#so if it's something that differs by sector please do let me know!

[causeimcrayzeebee]

Wolfgang Akire through the lens of the law: an analysis

i would like to give a disclaimer that while im very interested in the law, im not a lawyer or in law school. my knowledge comes from the few law classes i have taken, participation in a couple mock trials, and some personal research, so please take this with a grain of salt! if im missing something or saying something inaccurate, please let me know! i am always open to learning more!! not to mention this is my understanding of law in the United States, so this may differ by country.

in the end, this isn’t meant to be too serious, just using the knowledge i do have and applying it to p:eg!!!

okay now spoilers for the prologue and all of chapter 1!

well ig before we get into it let me say rest in peace a king... I will miss you, you hypocritical bastard........

alright, so firstly, let’s consider Wolfgang’s character profile.

two things stand out to me here. the first is how he has “successfully defended over 200 of his clients without dropping a single case.” we can infer that Wolfgang is a criminal defense attorney. it’s possible he could be a lawyer in the civil law sector instead, but considering his strong feelings about murder and crime, and the fact that this is Danganronpa, it leads me to believe he is a criminal attorney for the sake of relevance (I don't think any of us would care if he were a corporate attorney after all).

now, that sentence you just read is particularly interesting in the case of Wolfgang Akire. From the prologue's mock trial, we can see that Wolfgang feels very passionately about murder, condemning the murderer even without insight as to why they committed the crime, instead big on retribution and justice (which the definition of could definitely be debated). Yet, as a defense lawyer, Wolfgang would have been defending people from criminal accusations, from anything to armed robbery, arson, or murder. we’re not particularly sure on his view of other crime, but we can assume he also has a similarly negative view of it that he has of murder. out of 200 people (within such a short time span of finishing law school too), what are the odds that out of all 200, not one of them was actually guilty? of course, lawyers have the ability to drop or not take on cases, but as his profile says, he hasn’t dropped a single case! it’s quite possible he had complete faith that every client was innocent, but with the evidence and files he’d have to go through, he had to have seen something that was damning and prepared accordingly to address in the most sympathetic way possible to avoid prosecution winning their case. and that's the thing with Wolfgang; his job requires building sympathy for the accused, and it requires sowing seeds of doubt in prosecution's case. there had to have been someone that he was defending from an accurate charge(s). so whether he knew it or not, he has very likely defended people guilty of crime; and yet, he still feels very adamantly against them.

Here's where I fall short on my analysis; I honestly do not know what to make of this conclusion. his behavior and his ideals are almost contradictory in a sense. is this insight to wolfgang's clear hypocrisy? but what does that really say about him? I'd love to know what any of y'all think in regards to this :0

Now, the second thing that stands out to me is that he wants to make sure that everyone is fairly represented and make sure logic and evidence drive the discussion. While this does seem to be true, the mock trial shows that he lets his feelings become a big part of the discussion as well. everything he does screams prosecutor to me, so it was shocking to find out he works as defense. Wolfgang has a very interesting way of viewing things, almost dichotomous, unlike what his profile says. it's similar to the format of a trial, where it's not meant to be a team working together to find the complexities and nuance within a certain issue, but rather an attempt to prove your point and disprove the other side. trials aren't supposed to be a discussion where everyone reaches the truth together (Danganronpa trials are not very accurate but of course I don't think they were intended to be in the first place), they are for you to win your case-- as a defense attorney, its poking as many holes into the prosecution’s case as possible. (little fun side note, this is very similar to how debate works; Wolfgang and Damon are a lot more alike than one would originally think.)

Considering all of this, it makes me wonder if Wolfgang was intentionally trying to split the group apart,,,, because it's easier. because it makes more sense. as defense, lawyers may pin the crime on another, but without the burden of proof that prosecution does, they can sling out accusations to increase doubt on prosecutions case without having to actually prove it (that would be left for a separate case). it's easier to divide a group and have a bunch of people follow you while isolating the 'other side', and with that division made, it's more likely someone you isolated will be the 'villian' anyways; and in this case, this was true-- Eva, who has been socially ostracized her whole life, was driven to murder to protect herself from the blinding fear that everyone was out for her (even if that wasn't entirely true). this could be just how Wolfgang has gotten used to going through his life. maybe the bad habits he picked up from his father were the divisive kind of us vs them mindset lawyers have to have in a courtroom.

speaking of his father, let's address the motive-- there's so many things that Wolfgang's blackmail could be about; faking his law degree, not taking the bar exam, defending horrible people, the list goes on. Honestly, a scenario i have considered is that it's about him defending his father for a crime he actually did commit, yet winning the case; or his father commuting a crime in general and winning his case, leaving Wolfgang conflicted as that is the sort of thing he does all the time, yet his father had just taken away his mothers life and gotten free (this is very much just me guessing a possibility though). when Wolfgang was hallucinating, he says he's not like them (to diana who he thinks is someone else) and he'll never be like them; It's most likely that he saw his father. the theory I'm going with right now is that his father was at the very least heavily involved in the likely murder of his mother (thus bring her back in reference to his mom). his father was probably also a lawyer and may have pushed wolfgang into going into the field himself, especially when he sent him to law school as a teenager. maybe Wolfgang wanted to live up to the expectations his father had of him. who knows exactly what Wolfgang wanted everyone to know him as, it was probably a long the lines of a competent lawyer. but, as of right now it's all speculation (objection! haha.... that was not funny my bad), so again, I'd love to hear some thoughts.

Another little funny thing i'd like to note is when Damon and Eva come back to the dinning hall and Wolfgang asks where they've been, Damon responds saying it was for discussing the motive. He's internally smug about how defeated Wolfgang seemed to be by that, and I thought that the funniest shit; very similar to being on cross examination, thinking you have the witness in your hands, when suddenly they wiggle out of your accusation. he's so real for that.

that is pretty much all i've got so far! let me know what y'all think and thanks for reading!!! :)

[reasonsforhope]

Crowdsourcing a question

Okay totally personal post here because, now that search engines suck, my research is failing me. So I'm crowdsourcing my question about the residential care work industry!

Hoping at least some of my followers have experience in/with the industry and some intel on this:

Actual question: How common is it for jobs in residential care work (residential centers, btw, not home care) to actually have two people on the night shift? vs. just saying they always have two people on the night shift in interviews and their official policies, and actually it's not true?

Because my current job was, it turns out, apparently totally lying about "you'll never be on shift alone with clients" at orientation (when it comes to the night shift, anyway). Which, holy fucking safety issues, Batman!

Suffice to say this was a very fun thing to find out like three days before my first regular shift

So, I'm thinking realllll hard about switching companies, and I'm trying to figure out if I could expect to actually have a coworker at a different company, or if it's like an open secret in the field that actually, basically all the night shifts end up being solo shifts, because the industry is so chronically understaffed or w/e

[nymphea0]

Until Death My love

Part 2.

Yandere husband x Wife Reader

Very long story, might be bad grammar or language in this story, so please correct me if theres any bad word or bad grammar. This story will came out with 4 chapter , so stay always love🦋����

word count around : 2000 words

Story Part 1 : Until Death My love

Story Part 3 : Until Death My Love

.

.

.

.

The sound of many vehicles and street lights were the only things that decorated the darkness of the night' You don't know how it could end like this, there are so many moments that you have gone through with Alex, your beloved husband.

It shouldn't be like this, but it happened so fast.

That night as usual, you became an obedient and very good wife waiting for your husband to come home from work, you prepared dinner that you cooked yourself, even though the servants really wanted to help you cook, that night you were very stubborn and made several dishes such as shrimp pasta alfredo, and roast chicken.

You waited as usual in the dining room, like the nights you had gone through before. But that night, Alex came home early in the morning, your husband came home a little later than usual.

You looked at the street with a sad face and remembered what had happened to you before, that day you learned another secret from your husband, alexandrovic Reigent.

You learned that Alex was the leader of the mafia association, the same association, that destroyed the place where you worked as a staff of a famous restaurant. You think that Alex is an ordinary man that you dated during school, you spent your days so happily with Alex, then you graduated from school and continued to college, you and Alex even studied in the same place with different majors.

Then you graduated with mediocre grades, until Alex said he wanted to build a business in the mining sector.

At first you didn't think that Alex's business would be very successful, but you were very happy with the success of Alex's business. Until one day Alex proposed to you to be his wife, right when it was your birthday.

That day you felt like the happiest woman in the world. .

.

.

.

'Date 05 01 19xx'

That was the day Alex went on his business trip as a CEO of a company that handles coal affairs. Like a normal day you prepared your husband's clothes, helped him put on his shirt.

"Alex how long will you be away on business?"

"Love ...I won't be gone for long, just 5 days .... hmmm? Do you miss me already?"

Your husband, Alex, coquettishly pouted at you who was busy tidying up his work needs.

"No, I don't miss you."

In a playful tone you answered Alex who seemed ready to tickle you.

That morning was filled with laughter and happiness flowing in the residence you shared with Alex. .

.

.

That afternoon was very boring without Alex, your husband for the next 5 days, at that time you for some reason really wanted to clean the room where Alex worked.

Alex's work room. As usual the servants at home really didn't want you to work, they looked as if they were afraid of something wrong with you.

Until you forced them and they had no other choice but to let you do what you wanted, well who would dare try to stop the wife of the Reigent house?.

Carrying a broom and cleaning equipment, you opened the door to Alex's work room, the room had a luxurious impression as Alex's job as a CEO of a coal company.

A room polished with African black wood, walls that are added with furniture such as classic lamps, lots of bookshelves and a document shelf.

A small pantry table that provides coffee and tea editing tools when Alex wants to drink something.

A polished work desk with additional high-quality marble with additional computers and also some documents scattered on the desk.

In short, this room is very comfortable and has a distinctive Alex smell, a blend of mint and a little musk aroma.

At first you tidy up and clean the desk where Alex works. Until you clean the bookshelf where Alex keeps books containing world history.

You clean the bookshelf carefully, rearranging the books. Each bookshelf is given a little space between 1 bookshelf and another, with the placement of a flower pot and also a classic lamp on the wall as a divider between shelves 1 and the others.

But when you were about to go to another shelf that you were going to clean next, your feet accidentally slipped between the black carpet that was the base of the shelf, with human instinct you held onto anything so that you wouldn't fall or get hurt, expert at holding bookshelves, you actually held onto the handle of a classic lamp that was quite low and you could reach.

With strong pressure you held the lamp, unfortunately when you thought it wouldn't fall, the chandelier was actually pulled down as you were going to fall, and you ended up falling with the wooden lamp that looked bent downwards.

After standing up and getting rid of the pain from the fall, you tried to fix the lamp to its original position.

But before you could even fix the poor lamp, you realized that the bookshelf you had previously cleaned was slightly tilted from the wall and showed a small gap, out of curiosity you tried to pull the bookshelf.

And there you see a small room with an area and size of 2 footsteps, the room is empty with 3 walls covered in black wallpaper and only lit by 1 lamp on the wall, on the floor there is a round carpet the same color as the walls in the room.

You think, what is this narrow room built for?, with slow steps you enter the room, trying to feel the walls but nothing happens. At that time when you think maybe this small room was built to store Alex's useless files.

When you was about to get out of the small room, my feet accidentally tripped over a lump protruding from the black carpet. Get up slowly and stand up, you try to push the carpet out of the room.

At that time, instead of the floor you saw, you saw a wooden door that was attached to the floor. Looking around, you exit the room and walk slowly towards Alex's study door, then with one turn, you lock Alex's study from the inside and walk back into the room.

Making up your mind, you open the wooden door, it's a little hard to open, but finally the door opens and reveals a staircase leading down, you don't see anything, it's very dark down there.

A dark basement!

When you look around the bottom of the stairs, you see a small light switch that is integrated into the wall right on the first step.

With a 'Click' a light shines under the room, holding a broom, you go down the stairs. Every step you take on the stairs creates a very unpleasant sound to hear.

Until the last step, you can clearly see this basement.

This room is very classic but looks luxurious. There are leather sofas lined up around a glass table, there is a bar table and also a billiard table, there is a television with a wide and thin screen and is very luxurious which is displayed facing the leather sofa.

Slowly you look around and realize that there are many shelves for storing wine bottles and other liquor, you always knew that Alex really liked alcohol beyond your expectations, but you didn't know that this room even existed in this house.

.

.

.

.

The house where you and Alex live, a 3-story house, with a very large front and back yard, equipped with flower gardens and also a small lake that flows behind your house.

During the 2 years of your marriage with Alex, you didn't know that this room existed.

Walking through this basement, you see about 3 gold and black framed picture displayed on the wall, approaching the picture.

The first picture , is a picture of you and Alex who have just finished their wedding, in the picture you are very beautiful and beautiful, sitting smiling happily while holding a bouquet of flowers, while Alex stands behind you while holding your left shoulder, Alex is wearing a black shirt combined with a collar decoration and also a gold hanger on his jacket pocket which is united with roses.

Under the picture is your name and Alex's name and the date you got married.

Picture of alex and his family wearing all black suits, you don't know much about alex's family.

But when you married alex, only his mother and father came, you don't know why his other family didn't come, alex only told you that his other family was anti-social, and after that you didn't ask much.

On the wedding day, his father and mother didn't talk to you, but you only got a soft smile from his mother and a cold stare from his father.

In the picture there are so many people you don't know, they all sit in rows on the benches, but there's something strange, there are several women sitting on their knees below among several men you don't know. Then you see alex and his mother and father sitting in the right row that doesn't blend with the middle row, there you can see alex with an unfriendly and expressionless face, a facial expression that you didn't even know alex could make.

Under the frame, there is a bold text that contains.

'ARCEINT REIGENT FAMILY'

You don't think much and just guess that Arceint is Alex's extended family name.

Then, the last frame is a picture of Alex and his parents, and 4 people you don't know, they each sit on a bench, while the 4 people you don't know, 2 of them are men and they sit on a bench, but the other 2 are women, and they kneel beside the seats of the 2 men.

Blinking slowly, under the frame contains the name Alexandrovic Reigent Arceint, followed by Alex's father, Rovalnov Reigent Arceint, then Alex's mother, Ilvanna Rosye.

And the names of the 2 men whose names you are not sure which one is correct are Xirent Reigent Arceint, then the other one is William Reigent Arceint.

You can only guess that maybe these 2 people are Alex's older or younger siblings. Since dating and getting married, Alex has been very secretive about his family.

Looking at the other names there are 2 other names written there, you guess it is the name of 2 women who are sitting on their knees side by side.

The names there are written as, Lilya Ergevan, and also Belleriya Woods.

You think that why their names seem so beautiful and elegant?

Looking around the room again, you think to continue cleaning up Alex's work room that was delayed and only conclude that this basement room could be a room where Alex relaxes when he misses his family.

Just as you are about to step on a step, your eyes accidentally catch a corner of the room that is quite dark, and there is a white door in the corner.

People used to say, curiosity can be your death, so be careful.

.

.

.

.

*Source image : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

@snowflakes666

[wosobrainiac]

Shelter

Pairing: Alessia x Leah x Pet!reader

With most of Arsenal rescuing pets, Leah and Alessia get talked into saving a traumatized pet from a shelter.

Warnings: This work includes Pet!play, and has themes of trauma and trafficking though nothing is explicitly stated. There will also be no sexual activities between the pets and the non-pets. Theres also nothing sexual in this fic. Its kinda cute if i do say so myself.

The univese is based on the Widow au universe found here

This is a side blog because I'm too nervous to post this on my actual blog. Please enjoy and let me know if you have more requests for this universe.

Alessia and Leah had never really considered getting a pet (human or otherwise) until their teammates started rescuing them. 

First was Steph and her partner, who rescued a former pleasure kitten, Bella. She was surrendered when her CEO owner upgraded to one of the newer HFeline models with upgraded sexual proclivity when he lost interest in her. 

Now she got to spend her days in a far too expensive cat tree, sunning herself and eating exotic treats from around the world. 

Next were Viv and Beth who saved an adorable pup named Lady from being a bait dog in a dog fighting ring. Caitlin and Katie soon followed with a hulking retired HK9 named Jax, who begged for scraps at every meal and was a sucker for belly rubs. Kim rescued a bunny, Peaches, from a cosmetic company and Lotte had gotten a pup of her own, Brownie, who was also a pleasurehound for a major network, rejected when he no longer drew high ratings. 

Arsenal was slowly becoming a zoo, filled with barks and purrs. Their team group chat had turned into a pet helpline filled with adorable pictures of the shenanigans 

And while Leah and Alessia had come to love the new additions to their team, the pair still had… reservations. 

Sure, the practice was widespread, and hardly considered controversial. And yes, some people willingly signed up to be pets when they turned 18. But many were surrendered due to debt, chose it over jail or were kidnapped and forced. 

It didn’t sit right with them. 

Not until they saw how their friends' pets were thriving after being treated properly. Not until they saw that they could offer the ability for pets to choose. The ability to show preference and desires and to have them honored. 

Plus, Beth and Viv had made a fair point. Rescuing a pup was different than ordering one from one of the many Labs, Tech Companies or suppliers. It meant taking someone who had been in a crappy situation and offering them a new beginning. One that would be a vast improvement. 

They could show them love, and give them dignity, something that was blatantly lacking from the pet trade. 

That’s how they ended up at a pet shelter on one of their few Saturdays days of trailing after two attendants, Kara and Lexa, as they introduced them to each pet and gave them a short description of their personalities. 

It was a nice way to do it, she thought.

It made each of the pets seem like more than just… objects. It made sure that they found the pet that fit them best. One they would click with. 

She also realized it let Kara and Lexa make sure that her and Leah would be good owners. 

Kara’s questions were subtle, asking about their jobs, the amount of time they could devote to a pet, what kind of home they lived in and what traits they valued. Lexa was more direct, point blank questioning them about what their plans were, and making sure that both of them agreed that many of the practices in both the pleasure and security sectors were despicable and not to be replicated. 

“And who is this?” Alessia asked as they moved on to the next kennel, her fingers trailing along the tall black bars that made up the space. 

Kara smiled widely, flipping the lock on the cage door and easing it open. “This is Missy,” 

She reached up to scratch behind the kitten's dark hair, as Leah followed her. 

“Hello Missy,” The blonde defender said, also reaching to pet the kitten, even as Alessia hovered by the door. 

The kitten batted at her hand, trying to catch it, earning a fond smile from the defender. “You’re a spicy one, aren’t you?”

“Missy is quite playful, and absolutely loves attention,” Kara hummed, scratching the kitten under her chin. “And cooking shows, or anything with fish on the screen really,”

“She does prefer elevated spaces,” Lexa added, gesturing toward the tower of platforms the kitten was laying on. “And will get depressed if she has to stay at ground level,” 

Alessia made a low noise, as Leah scratched gently behind the kitten’s ear, her eyes wandering down the line of kennels. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the kitten or any of the other pets they had seen, but she hadn’t felt that connection yet. 

Still, there were so many kennels left. 

It was heartbreaking how many of them were full. How many had little faces pressing against the black bars, trying to attract a potential owner? 

All except one down at the very end of the hall. 

She tilted back, trying to get a better look at what lay behind the bars, but all she could make out was a blue lump in the corner. 

She couldn’t deny the pull she felt towards the cage. 

“What about the one down there?” She asked, already stepping towards the dark metal bars at the very end of the hallway. 

A pained look crossed Kara’s face as she followed Alessia’s gaze. “She’s one of our newer arrivals,”

“Why is she all alone?” Alessia asked as they passed empty kennels on either side of the ones leading up to the one at the end of the hallway. 

“She’s having a hard time adjusting,” Kara explained, as Lexa walked in front of them. Leah trailed after them, looking much less enthusiastic. 

The tattooed handler grimaced as they got closer to the cage. “Given her circumstances, she might not be the best fit for first-time owners,”

Leah silently agreed based on the giant orange sign taped to the black bars of your area that read: 

Possibly aggressive

Two handlers are required during feeding 

“Less, what about Missy? We don’t want-” Leah suggested, catching the forward's arm. Alessia glared over her shoulder, effectively killing any further protests on her tongue. 

“The sign is just precautionary,” Kara said as they got closer, pausing at the door of the kennel. “She hasn’t been very interactive since she arrived, and we don’t have a good idea of her temperament yet,”

 “And she hasn’t seemed interested in food, or treats, so we require two handlers in case there’s a trigger there we don’t know about yet,” Lexa continued, unhooking her keys from her waistband and with a jingle. 

You pressed yourself into the far corner of the kennel at the sound, curling into a tight ball against the white bricks, and hiding your face from the group under a small blue blanket. 

Alessia couldn’t stop the coo that left her lips at the sight of your nose just barely peeking out from underneath the small blanket. 

“What’s her name?” She asked, shifting closer to the now open door, keeping her voice very soft. 

“We don’t know. Her previous owner only identified her by a number, and she hasn’t responded to any that we’ve tried,” Kara explained, her voice going very soft. “The only thing she’s liked since she got here is the blanket,”

As if you understood that they were talking about the thin fabric covering you, your fingers wound tightly on the edge like you thought they would take it away. 

All the movement did was shift the blanket to reveal more of your skin, littered with thick lines and yellowing bruises. 

“We suspect she was training to be a fighting dog and failed during one of the final checks,” Kara explained softly at their collective intake of breath. “She was in rough shape when they brought her in,”

Leah made a low noise of agreement, her eyes trailing the thick line of gauze that peeked out from the small flannel blanket you had tucked around yourself. It spanned from your too-skinny side, across your ribs, and to your back, where Leah was sure she could count each of your vertebrae.

It made her sick that someone could do this to another creature. “Final checks?”

“They put them with a bait dog to test their prey drive,” Lexa explained, easing the door to your cage open. You made no move to greet them. “From their records and the amount of titanium modifications they made, they thought she would be very… lethal,”

Leah made a low sound in the back of her throat. 

She knew about… modifications that people made to pets. The inhumane surgeries were considered upgrades. 

It made her sick that not only had you been physically abused, but you had also been surgically altered for someone else’s purposes. 

“Viv and Beth’s pup was a bait dog. She's such a tiny thing,” She murmured, thinking of how your scars mirrored those Lady bore. 

“They’re purposefully kept weak so the fighting dogs can beat them and gain confidence,” Kara said, stepping just inside the kennel and to the side so they had a clear view of you. 

Leah’s nose scrunched, thinking about how sweet and tiny Lady was, always rubbing up against legs and asking for pets and scritches. “Nasty stuff,”

“Indeed,” Kara agreed, crouching and leaning against the bars. You just curled tighter into yourself, shifting the blanket to cover more of your back. It slipped higher, revealing the thick scars on your legs just above your ankles. 

The place where your tendons had been cut to prevent you from standing on 2 legs. 

Alessia frowned, crouching next to Kara in the kennel entrance. “But she didn’t pass?”

“No. Their notes said her prey drive was too low, and unfortunately, that’s all the information we have besides the condition she was in when their compound was raided,” Lexa sighed, rubbing her forehead. “It appears that they were trying to enhance her hunting instincts with bearings and starvation,” 

Alessia hummed, stepping into the cage beside Kara and squatting so she didn’t intimidate you. 

“Hey pretty girl,” She said gently. 

You peeked up at her, blinking slowly, most of your face still hidden, meeting her blue eyes. She could see the terror in them, masked only by the deepest sense of anguish. 

She made a cooing sound. “It must be scary in here, huh?” 

A low whimper left your lips, and you shifted towards the door, and Alessia, dragging the blanket with you. 

The three women behind Alessia froze, and Lexa and Kara shared a look. 

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen her move,” Kara murmured, reaching into the fanny pack around her waist and pulling a small slice of sausage out. At the same time, Lexa put one hand on the spray at her hip, and gestured for Leah to get low like Alessia and Kara were with the other. 

They didn’t think you would snap, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She followed Lexa’s instructions, kneeling and placing a gentle hand on Alessia’s shoulder. 

“Try this,” The blonde kennel attendant kept her voice low as she passed the piece to Alessia, neither of their eyes leaving your timid form. “We haven’t had much luck getting her to eat, but maybe you can,” 

She held the sausage out to you with a flat palm, and all four women held their breath as you scooted forward, and stopped, watching them with wide, terrified eyes. 

“It’s ok, sweet one,” Alessia said, her voice soft, reassuring. “You can take it,” 

You glanced from the treat to Alessia’s face and back, your nostrils going wide as you sniffed in the new scents, sliding just a bit closer to them. 

You didn’t reach for the treat, instead you ducked your head and very gently raised it to touch the back of Alessia’s hand. 

She moved slowly, taking the treat with her free hand and flipping her palm over to gently scratch your head. 

You practically melted, pressing more of your head into her hand. Her nails ran over your scalp, and a sound that was cross between a purr and a growl fell from your lips. 

Leah couldn’t hold in her little awe.

“She’s adorable,” She mumbled, inching towards you and extending a hand to join Alessia’s. She picked a spot just behind your ear, gently stroking the place where your skin and hair met. 

You paused as you registered the new sensation, your body contorting like it didn’t know if it wanted to lean in closer or pull away. 

“It’s ok. It’s just Leah. She won’t hurt you,” Alessia murmured, though she could tell you didn’t quite believe her. 

She gently nudged Leah with her free arm, a silent order to say something that wouldn’t break the tenuous truce you had developed. 

“You’re ok,” Leah murmured, gently scratching behind your ear. “Less is right, you are quite cute,”

You made a groaning sound in the back of your throat that was a mix between a grumble and a purr. 

It pulled a smile from her lips. “You don’t like being called cute?”

You made the grumbling sound again, shrugging to displace Leah’s hand behind your ear. 

The defender chuckled. “I see how it is,” 

Alessia dragged her nails more deeply against your scalp, turning your grumble purr into a straight up purr, a wide smile pulled across her lips. “I want her,”

Leah hummed in agreement. 

You were clearly attached to Alessia, and she trusted that - despite the large orange sign on your door- that you wouldn’t hurt the forward. 

You were just scared and hurt, and you deserved a chance. 

“Kara can get you set up in a room so we can fill out some paperwork and go over some of our suggestions, and I’ll get this one set up with a nice new collar and a muzzle,” Lexa said, pushing herself to her feet. 

You flinched at the movement, causing the blanket to fall from your back. 

“Shh pretty girl,” Alessia soothed you gently. “You’re ok,” 

Leah frowned, gesturing towards where you were practically melting at Alessia’s touch. “Why does she need a muzzle? She hasn’t been aggressive,”

A pained expression crossed Kara’s features as she also pushed herself to her feet, more slowly than Lexa had. “The muzzle is just precautionary. We’ve had her isolated since she’s been here, and we don’t want an incident if she gets overwhelmed,” 

Leah sighed, she had to agree. 

The last thing she wanted was for you to lash out because you got frightened. 

“I don’t want to leave her,” Alessia murmured, and you nuzzled deeper into her hand. 

She took that as you saying you didn’t want her to leave either, but she knew she had to. 

“They’ll only be a few minutes,” Kara promised. 

“And I’ll take good care of your pretty girl,” Lexa added, smiling genuinely at them. 

Alessia’s fingers dragged through your hair one more time, as she released a long breath. 

“I’ll see you in a few minutes alright?” She said, giving your one last scratch before she pulled away.

You pouted as she stood, making a low, upset sound.

“I know,” She repeated. “Just a few minutes, and you get to come home with me and Lee,” 

You huffed, turning away from them, grabbing your blanket between your teeth and heading for your little corner.  

Alessia frowned, but didn’t stop you. 

She knew it would take a lot to earn your trust. 

“It’ll be alright,” Lexa said as she closed the door of the kennel. “We’ll come find you guys as soon as I got her all set up,”

OoOoOoO

“She’s had all of her shots, and her medical paperwork is in the file. The first issue we should discuss is her temperament,” Kara began, sliding a stack of papers across the table for them to read, pointing to the first page that listed dietary suggestions. “I would suggest hand feeding. It’ll help her learn to trust you,” 

“You said she hasn’t been interested in food,” Leah said, looking down at the page. 

Next to likes and dislikes almost nothing was checked. There were no notes. 

All except a little star next to the line that read Peanutbutter. 

“No,” Kara agreed quickly. “But that could all be down to stress. Variety will be your best friend in the beginning. Stick with finding foods she’ll enjoy first, and then we can worry about meeting her required macros later,”

Alessia nodded, her mind already working through the foods they had in the cabinet and the ones they would need to buy. 

The Arsenal meal team had done well to provide the growing zoo within the team with foods that fit their preferences. If they could grill Jax a T-bone steak for lunch every day, then surely they could grill whatever food you latched on to. 

It would just be at home they would need to worry about. 

“I’m also going to suggest obedience classes,” Kara continued, flipping the packet of papers to show them a flier. “We offer one three times a week that I think would help both of you and your new pup,” 

“This is the one Lotte takes Brownie to,” Alessia noted, taking the flier. 

Leah hummed. “Beth and Viv took Lady last week too,”

“Friends in class are good,” Kara nodded. “It will help her to be around the same pets, and she should feel more comfortable,” 

Alessia and Leah shared a look. 

Making you comfortable was their number one priority. 

“We’ll be there,” Alessia said, only looking away from her girlfriend when a light knock sounded G the door, and it slowly swung open. 

Lexa peeked her head in, before she looked behind her. “Alessia and Leah are in here, don’t you want to say hello?”

They waited another long second, before your face very hesitantly appeared beside Lexa’s leg in the doorway. 

“Hey pretty girl, you’re ok,” Alessia said, breaking into a smile. 

You perked up considerably at her voice, looking up at Lexa as though you were asking for permission to actually enter the room. 

“Go ahead,” Lexa smiled down at you, reaching down to unclip the leash from your collar. “I think they’re excited to see you too,”

You waited a long second before you eased your way into the room, your blue blanket tied around your collar so it fell around your back like a cape. 

“Come here sweetheart,” Alessia cooed, drawing your wary eyes away from Lexa and Kara towards her and Leah. 

It took you another long second to make your way over to her, gently nudging her leg with your head. 

She reached down to scratch the sensitive spot just behind your ear, over where the straps of the leather muzzle landed. 

“Are you sure she needs that?” Leah asked, watching you carefully paw the material that covered your mouth. 

“It’s just precautionary,” Lexa repeated, taking the seat beside Kara. “She’s not aggressive, but fear can provoke a reaction bite. I would suggest she wear it when you’re going to be around people and other pets, just until she’s socialized and loses that fear response,” 

Leah and Alessia shared a hum, though Alessia didn’t look thrilled with the suggestion. 

They understood, yes, but it felt… dehumanizing. You were a person after all, despite what you had been conditioned to believe. 

At the same time, they both knew they couldn’t risk you biting someone, even out of fear. 

“We just need a name for her to complete the paperwork,”  Kara said, flipping the packet to the last page. “You can use pretty girl if you like,”

Leah and Alessia shared another look. 

While pretty girl was a nice nickname for you, they had something different in mind for your actual name. 

“Let’s go with Y/n,” Leah said, looking back towards Kara and Lexa. 

You hummed contentedly at the name, leaning into Alessia’s fingers. 

“I think she likes that name,” Alessia cooed, digger her nails under the straps of the muzzle, making sure none of your hair tangled in it. 

You made another sound of contentment as Kara finished filling out the papers and slid them to Leah and Alessia. 

“Just sign on the dotted line, and she’s all yours,” 

It only took them a second to scrawl their signatures on the indicated lines, and then Alex’s was passing them your leash. 

“Enjoy your new super pup,” Lexa said, winking at you. “And treat her well,”

“We will,” Leah promised. 

They would take care of you, and fix the damage that had been done if it was the last thing they ever did. 

OoOoOoO

Getting you back to their apartment had been… interesting. 

You had not been thrilled about the chest harness they strapped you into, but you hadn’t minded the car ride, even enjoying it when Alessia opened the back window for you. 

It was fine until they pulled up alongside a car that also had a pup in the back. You had pulled away from the window immediately, nearly jumping into the boot of Leah’s jeep before he started barking.

By the time the light changed and Leah eased the car forward, you were shaking like a leaf. It struck both of them as slightly off considering you had been trained to be a fighting dog. 

You had been very hesitant as they got you out of the car, your eyes swiveling around as they led you into their apartment and showed you around. 

Since then you had been curled up on the soft pet bed they had stationed in the living room, not even letting them close enough to you to remove the muzzle. 

They knew it would take time for you to settle. Their friends had all warned them of that already, so they let you be, flipping through channels until they got to a shark documentary that seemed to catch your attention. 

Alessia was thankful that the kitchen was connected to the living room so she didn’t have to leave you as she made dinner. Not that she didn’t trust Leah to watch you, but she didn’t want you to think she had disappeared. 

The first step to building trust was to show you that they were there, and you were safe. 

She stuck with simple foods, chicken and rice, partially because Leah didn’t like anything remotely adventurous and partially because she didn’t know what you would enjoy. 

She and Leah ate first, sharing worried looks when you didn’t even patter over at the smell of food.

After their meal was cleaned up, they turned their attention to you. 

They started by sitting on the floor in front of their couch, a good distance from your pet bed, with your food bowl. 

“Hey pretty girl, are you hungry?” Alessia asked gently, holding the bowl out for you to sniff. “If you come a little closer I can take your muzzle off and you can eat,”

You didn’t lift your head off of hand, or make any move to approach them. 

Your nostrils didn’t even flare out to smell the bowl. 

It sent red flags spinning in their brains. 

They shared a look before Alessia passed the bowl to Leah and scooted closer to you, to the edge of your bed. “Ok pretty girl, will you let me take the muzzle off?”

Your eyes flickered away from shark show and towards the blonde briefly, before your head tilted minutely. 

She took that as the ok to reach for the buckle on the leather contraption attached to your face, carefully easing it open and sliding it off of your head. 

You yawned wide as soon as it was removed, scrunching your nose adorably. 

Alessia passed the leather contraption she never intended to use again back to Leah, and the defender passed her the bowl. 

She reached into the bowl and pulled out a piece of chicken, carefully holding it out to you with a flat palm. “Eat for me, pretty girl,”

You huffed. 

“Please,” Alessia said, her voice edging on pleading as she offered you the piece again. 

You sighed, clearly unhappy, but you leaned forward and took the piece of chicken from her gently, chewing and swallowing. 

“Good girl, Y/n,” The forward hummed, reaching into the bowl and pulling out another piece. 

You let her feed you a few more bites before you buried your face in your bed, clearly signaling that you were finished with your meal. 

Alessia sighed again, looking back at Leah who could only shrug. 

She turned back to you and slowly extended her hand, scratching behind your ear. “You can be done,”

You made a groaning noise that sounded like relief. 

Leah snorted, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the half-filled bowl of food from Alessia. “I don’t think I ever per a pet who was happy dinner was over,”

“Y/n is one of a kind,” Alessia agreed, her nails dragging pleasantly against your scalp. 

OoOoOoO

Bedtime was relatively easy. 

Alessia and Leah went about their normal routines, only adding brushing your teeth and showing you where there was a second bed for you at the base of their bed. 

This one had a fluffy red blanket and a stuffed dragon. 

You had been… hesitant at first to get into it, looking at the door for the blue bed that existed in the living room. 

You chose to sit just in front of it, curling in a little ball that didn’t look comfortable, and draping your favorite blue blanket around you. (Alessia longed to fix it since it was bunched and only covered half of your body). 

Again, Leah and Alessia let you be. 

Lights were turned off as a stupid show played on the television as all three of you wound down, and before you knew it, a silence had settled over the room. It was broken only by the sounds of breathing and the occasional shift on the bed.

It was… uncomfortable. 

You weren’t used to it being so… quiet. 

You were used to the sounds of barks, and chain link shifting lulling you to sleep. You were used to a corner you could curl up in. 

You weren’t used to a bed, and you wanted to lay in it but you were sure it was a… trap. 

Just like you had thought the chicken Alessia tried to feed you was a trap. 

It had always been a trap before. 

You huffed, shifting next to the pet bed. 

Maybe if you slept in it, but woke up before the two women who had adopted you, you would be safe. 

It was soft, and you would be warm. 

You shifted again, freezing at the sound of someone moving from on the bed permeated the room. 

You had woken them up, and now the other shoe would finally fall. 

You curled tighter into yourself and waited for the pain that never came. 

Instead, there were only soft footsteps. 

“Trouble sleeping?” 

Your eyes blinked open at Leah’s soft question, meeting her blue eyes in the low light of the television. 

You nodded hesitantly. 

“Me neither,” Leah agreed. “Let’s go get a midnight snack,”

You padded after the defender as she headed towards the kitchen, stopping by the island near the stove as she headed for the cabinet by the fridge. 

She grabbed a brown jar with a teal lid, setting it on the counter before rummaging around in the drawer below. 

“Ah ha,” She cheered, holding up a spoon victoriously, grabbing the Jar, and turning to face you. 

Your head tilted to the side at the object. 

“I think you’ll like this,” She said, unscrewing the top and dipping in the spoon. 

When she pulled it out, the most delicious-smelling substance you had ever encountered coated it. 

You watched with rapt attention as the spoon disappeared into her mouth and came out clean.

Your mouth watered. 

“Peanut butter?” Leah asked, tilting the jar your way. 

Your head tilted, and you just barely leaned forward on your knuckles as your nose flared, trying to catch more of the scent. 

Leah’s lips tilted up at how adorable you looked, as she dipped the spoon back in the jar and then held it out for you. It was just out of your reach, closer to her than you had ventured yet. 

You had an immediate connection with Alessia but were still incredibly wary of her for some reason, she tried not to let it bother her.

You were hesitant to take the step forward. 

But it smelled so good. 

Your tummy rumbled, and your tongue darted across your lips. 

Leah stayed perfectly still, watching you with bated breath. She knew this was the only way to build trust with you. To show you that they wouldn’t hurt you. 

You very slowly took a step, tilting your head towards the offered treat, your eyes moving rapidly between her and the spoon. 

Your tongue carefully made its way between your lips and licked the spoon. 

Your eyes went very wide at the taste, and you quickly leaned closer to take the spoon into your mouth. 

“Good right?” Leah asked with a chuckle as the spoon came out of your mouth, completely free of peanut butter. 

You woofed softly, using your nose to nudge the now empty spoon back towards Leah, eyeing the jar on the counter.

She followed your eyes, shaking her head. “How about we try something else?” 

Alessia would kill her if she found out all you had eaten was Peanut Butter when you hadn’t been interested at all in dinner. She would point out that you needed carbs and protein to help you get to a healthy weight while being healthy. Neither of them liked how… skeletal you were, and any food was good really, but so was balance to give you the most sustainable energy they could. 

Leah searched the counter, looking for something to pair with the only food you seemed to like. 

“What about some banana?” She asked, grabbing for the fruit. 

She opened it and broke off a piece, offering it to you. 

You leaned forward to sniff it and pulled back in disgust. 

“What about if we add some Peanut butter?” She asked, digging the spoon back into the peanut butter and sticking the pale yellow slice on top. 

You stared at her skeptically, sure that the fruit would ruin the delicious brown treat underneath. 

“It’s good, trust me,” Leah promised when your eyes flickered back up to her. 

You huffed, scrunching your nose up at it, and then flinching away when you realized what you had done. 

“No pretty girl, you’re ok,” Leah said, dropping her voice and immediately sinking down so she was on the same level as you. She didn’t want to frighten you. “You’re allowed to not like things,” 

You curled into yourself, tucking your body as close as you could to the island. 

Leah wondered idly if Alessia would have elicited the same reaction from you. You seemed to trust the forward more for whatever reason. 

She gently pulled the banana bit off of the spoon, popping it into her mouth and offering the peanut butter to you once again. 

You sniffed, barely peeking out at her. 

She understood now why peanut butter was the only food on your list at the shelter. 

It was the only thing besides Alessia (and maybe your blue blanket) that you would risk coming out of your shell for. 

“You can have it,” Leah assured you, keeping her voice soothing and calm, ignoring the soft sound of padding feet coming down the hallway from their bedroom. “You’re ok,” 

You sniffed again, wishing you had brought your blanket with you on this excursion. Bad things always happened when you forgot it. 

You wanted to trust Leah, and the peanut butter did smell amazing. 

Very slowly, you leaned forward towards the spoon, making eye contact with Leah before you took it back into your mouth. 

She kept still as you licked it clean with a satisfied sigh, and pulled away. 

“Let’s go to bed,” She said, slowly pushing herself to stand, placing the spoon in the sink to be dealt with in the morning, and putting the jar of Skippy back into the cabinet. 

You woofed again softly, padding after her once she was done. 

Maybe things would be good here.

[genji-centric]

hi!! may i please get a uh ram nsfw alphabet or even a junk nsfw alphabet😁 ur pick💕

Ofc!! I'll start off w Ramattra l, I got some Junkrat requests you can look forward to in the future ^^

Ramattra NSFW Alphabet

MDNI!!! NSFW under the cut!

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ramattra isn't one for.. bonding after you both finish. He's more relaxed than he usually finds himself, for an act so simple he was surprised to feel.. almost complete. Of course, he doesn't let his mind wander. He's a leader and can't waste his day alone by your side. But after being so rough, well, he can't just abandon his little pet human. He would carry you to the bathroom and draw you a bath, make sure any aches and sores are taken care of before he departs. Maybe once he reaches his goals, he could set aside time for you, make you an important part of his day even.. but for now, that's the only care you will receive.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ramattra is an omnic, cold, and robotic. Due to his build, he is powerful. The upgrades with his nemesis give him strength others could only dream of. His wit is beyond most humans he suffices, and he's one to pride himself on his parts. But his favorite is his hands. With them, he can upgrade himself as he so pleases, hold the staff he brings to battle, pin his favorite pet to the wall as he thrusts from behind whispering insults as you sob. On you? Well.. all humans are the same in his eyes, but you.. you are different. He can't choose a certain part that's his favorite. If he kept the thought in mind, he would settle of how.. squishy human flesh is. How easy he can mold you into positions.. that's what he finds enjoyable the most.

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ramattra doesn't cum, in fact he finds the idea rather.. unpleasant. Just another thing about humans he couldn't help but despise. Such organic ways of reproduction are messy.. and reproduction only creates more soldiers to harm his people. Yet his ideas can shift, for being a monk in the past, he has learned to change his ways. With a mind open he can find a sick pleasure in your cum, he doesn't which to be covered. Oh no, he likes bending you in ways where you get your fluids on yourself. It's demeaning, but that's the case for many moments with him.

D = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ramattra.. well, he never saw himself having such relations with a human. Something so.. simple didn't catch his eye. So he still feels a bit odd when he holds you, gropes you, claims you. You, to him, is his dirty secret. He doesn't want other omnics to know he fell for such a thing, a human? Him? The idea is preposterous, so for now, your lives are kept private. But one day, he oh so wishes to free the little secret and claim you on the factory floor of the Null Sector as others look on to such a display.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ramattra doesn't.. only because of you he gave those omnic enhancements for human relations a try. But believe me, he learns fast. During the first time, it only took gentle guiding before he was already rearranging your guts while saying filthy things in your ear. You would've thought he was highly experienced, but no, Ramattra would never share the fact he spent how long researching human anatomy for this.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes control, Ramattra wants to be the one in power. He bends his little human around as he so pleases. An ironic change of power, instead of the humans in control, it's him, the omnic. If you forced him to answer. He'd laugh and say, "What a petty question," before he would give in. His favorite is doggy, forcing your face into the pillow while he pounds at a harsh pace from behind, watching the curve of your ass jiggle from how hard he was going.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He isn't humorous outside of the bedroom. Inside is no different. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't laugh, oh no. He would laugh at you, your reactions, how fragile humans are.. how needy they are. "Ha. Already all sensitive? Weak. You humans can't even handle such little time with a thing you crave.."

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ramattra doesn't have hair. Unless you count the wires he has, but he doesn't actually have hair, let alone pubic hair.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ramattra isn't one for romance. But you.. well, he can make an exception just this once. After a strenuous day, watching armies go into battle. There's nothing he wants more than to see his little pet.. ironic how that is. After taking out the stress of the day on you, he's content to just hold you. Pet your hair and whisper sweet nothings. "You did well.. very well." Simple compliments are the world coming from him, Ranattra is no romantic lover. But during those soft moments, he feels like any person's dream.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he first installed the.. enhancements he got. Of course, he had to try it out. The sensors.. well, they were a strange feeling but somewhat pleasant. When he felt something.. start to tighten, he grew concerned there was a malfunction, something he needed to fix. But he continued, and he found himself being pushed over the edge. Like his motherboard overloaded for a moment before this feeling of pure, relaxion hit. It was enjoyable, and if his little pet human isn't there to help him out, he might use his hand once more.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ramattra is well.. he thought things such as sex would be simple. It's just an act, nothing more.. right? He was soon to find out there was much more than just the act itself, emotions, positions, and even different kinks. At first he didn't want to expierement, but he found himself getting rougher and enjoying it. Without telling you, he looked into the more.. extreme parts. Hard domination peaked his interest, along with bindings. After trying them out, he learned he loved to deny you, making you whine and cry for your release. It pleases him, making a human beg for his mercy.

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

He's a private man, opting to claim you in your bedroom or his quarters. Away from any prying eyes, away from judgment. He still feels a small bit of embarrassment knowing he fell for a human. It isn't directed at you, but it feels like a weak point in what he fights for. So he just wants to keep his time with you private, just for him to enjoy.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Ramattra wants to say he doesn't crave sex like the pet he has.. but that just isn't true. After a long day, leading his army, meetings, and so on. He needs to release his stresses of the day into you, to rut into the tight, warm walls he grew to love. He loves watching you grow needy over him, using his legs to hump against like you were in heat. Just how desperate you get over him is that it turns him on more than anything.

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't want to be subservient to a human, no. Omnics have already had to bend to the will of humans to be cast as monsters once they had the freedom of choice. Being told what to do.. getting told by a pet of his wjat to do. It's just not something he will entertain the idea of. He wants his little pet to he obedient, not him.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ramattra doesn't have a mouth. Even if he did, he wouldn't waste such time with a lowly human, even if it was you. But oral for him? There's nothing he wants more than to put his little pet human in it's place on their knees below him, only allowed to please him.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ranattra isn't one to be soft, especially on a human. When he gets to have his way with you, he calls the shots. And he prefers it to be fast, rough, and make it so you can only focus on him. It's a way to pound all that stress into his own little human of his own, but on the days he accepts the fact a human has his heart then.. well, he decides to be slow. To enjoy the warmth you bring, the sounds you make.. all just to admire. All so different, but all so unique.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Ramattra isn't one for quickies. If he wants it himself, he will take his time. Some things just can't be rushed. But if his pet is being particularly needy, then fine, he will give in just once. He won't admit the fact he enjoys he has the ability to make someone desire him in such a way, it's a boost in pride for him.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Fighting wars is risk at its rawest form. Sending troops after troops to battles the machinery used would need to be rebuilt time and time again. Ramattra is used to risks. It's what he does on a day to say basis. This is why he wants to keep his time with you private, with little risks of being caught or putting you in danger. He wants to be in control of everything entirely. If there's the chance something could go array, he is not interested.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As an omnic, his stamina is nigh infinite. He can go for as many rounds as he so desires, and he uses that to his advantage. Each time you two have sex you are left disheveled, tired, and sore. He can also last as long as he wants. He has control over himself. Ramattra is mean but isn't heartless. He will listen if you truly need to stop.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He sees no purpose in using toys. He is right there, so why do you need a small bit of silicone? Because Ramattra is an omnic, he can switch out parts as he needs. After his favorite little pet has been rather.. obedient, he decided to treat them. As he started the process of preparing his little human to take him, his fingers began to vibrate. It was sudden, but felt oh so good. After hearing the noises you made, Ramattra decided he would happily install more.. erotic functions to his body.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

As a former monk, he knows patience. He has spent years of his life dedicated to meditation, waiting. His skills he still practices, the patience helping him plan each move carefully. And how long he can hold himself from you, he can go weeks without touching you. All while whispering about how your treat is soon to come, he wants you to disobey.. to touch yourself behind his back. His teasing is all with the goal to punish you. All humans are weak minded.. unlike him. So go on, he wants you to give into those selfish human desires. It isn't unfair. He just wants to prove a point.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ramattra isn't one to moan. Be loud, and give you the impression he's enjoying himself. You are more likely to hear him make noise on the battlefield over the bedroom. That's just how he is. When he's close, he would let out some grunts, but when he crosses the finish line, he goes quiet and enjoys the feeling. He would much rather listen to you.

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he succeeds in his goal, giving omnics power, he believes they all deserve he will settle down. He doesn't wish for a pure domestic life, but he truly does wish to have you by his side as his lover. To keep you on a pedestal by his side, his favorite pet human. He wants nothing more than to show you off, to claim you in front of others once he doesn't have to worry about appearances.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

After you came into his life, he learned more about humans. More than he ever wished to. Out of curiosity, he looked into omnic and human relationships and was surprised there was.. certain upgrades for such cases. He kept it a secret, but Ramattra had located such an upgrade. The.. device is purple in color. Made of silicone, with ridges from the base to tip. It's both squishy and firm, with wires he connected to his other sensors. Ramattra was genuinely surprised he could.. feel such sensations, but after getting the upgrade, there is no going back.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ramattra in an omnic who holds off on more.. indulgent activities. Only you had made him even entertain the idea of such obscene actions. To which he tries to ignore the need, but after getting a taste, he finds himself fantasizing about taking his little pet human more and more. But he holds large amounts of self-restraint, only he knows how often he dreams of indulging such.. peculiar activities.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ramattra doesn't need to sleep, but when he's feeling rather.. tender, he will hold you close and let you rest in his arms. You look so small compared to him, and he feels protective. If you can fall asleep as he holds you, he will sit in silence. Meditating and enjoying the moment of silence you share.

[ray935sworld]

An unexpected guest

Soulmate AU marcmarc Part 8

Whole au here

17.12 winter writing

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

They have literally only been together for 5 days and Marc already managed to mess up.

But riding at a motorcycle at 300km/h didn't really let him have too many thoughts on it now. He gave himself the following straight to curse himself relentlessly.

Idiot. Yellow flag. Asshole. Yellow flag. Oh please let it stay yellow. He blinked quickly. Stay yellow. Fucking cunt. Idiot. Green flag. Ass-

And done. Sector clear. Blinked twice. He pushed the thought back. Done. No more flag means no more worries. It was okay. It was fine for now.

Now he just had to focus on bringing home a good result for Honda. One last time. It didn't even had to be a podium. Just a decent finish.

But he finished his last raceat Honda like many races in his career had ended. In the gravel.

He felt his bike leave the track. He felt how it just kicked his body off. It felt like a horse having enough from it's rider.

It was quick. Hurtful.

And it ended a lot for him. It ended his race. His season. His job as an active rider at the factory that he has been with since more than a decade. It also ended his professional partnership with so many amazing personas.

Like Santi. His mechanics. His engeers. Everyone he had spent years trying to make the bike work.

And now it was over. Just like this.

Sitting in the gravel, it hit him like a million rocks. He had been so caught up in saying good bye, loving Marco, preparing with Ducati that he forgot to realize that this was now really over.

He made his way back to the garage, more emotional than ever before. He got hugs and kissed on the head. Encouraging words and comfort.

Then he realized that nagging feeling in his chest wasn't from his DNF. Okay maybe not just from his DNF.

It was also from the fact that he ended the race of someone else. After literally not even 30 seconds. First turn bought the first DNF.

He had only needed one corner and a less than a week old relationship and he had immediately yeeted his own soulmate in the gravel.

He felt himself freeze. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Oh double, triple, hyper fuck.

He stood there frozen in place. Hadn't he wanted to prove Marco that he was the exact opposite of what Rossi might have said about him? And now he had acted just like the version Rossi had always painted.

He felt himself panicking. Nerves hit him hard. Harder than he expected. He bit his lips, not even wanting to imagine what the older Spaniard might currently be telling Marc boyfriend.

But there was nothing he could do. He had seen Bez in his box, looking tired, hurt and fucked up about the situation. It was enough that Marc wanted to crawl inside a ditch never to be found again.

At the same time, all he wanted to do was run to him, apologies and hope he would believe him when he said it was an accident. He wanted to crawl in Marcos lap, cuddle him and apologize.

He wanted him to hold him so he could forget his DNF and the fact that it was his last race with Honda and instead focus on Bez being P3 in the standings.

At least he had proven that he wouldn't ride differently just cause they're dating, his brain submitted and he cursed his own thoughts for that one.

He sighted, knowing that his worries wouldn't help. Right now Bez was at his garage. He had already gotten changed so there was no way they could 'accidentally' meet when Marc got changed.

And the Italian was watching the race, already a smile on his face in celebration for his best friend.

And after that the actual celebration started.

"Today Marquez made me fall-" that was all Marc heard from his boyfriend about the incident. The words burned in his head. That was not good. That was so not good.

His fingers nervously hovered over the screen. He wanted to text him. Something anything!

But there was no answer. He sighed and decided to just go on about the rest of his day.

Marc: Hey, I'm sorry how today went. I didn't mean to crash you.

I'm sorry

Please I really didn't mean to. I never wanted to crash anyone. Especially not you.

I just hope your okay.

Please answer me when you read this so we can maybe talk if you want to?

I love you even if I'm an idiot

He celebrated with his team, had dinner, a party.

Then he watched the gala from his motorhome. Normally he didn't accre about that stuff, but now someone he cared about was standing on the stage.

His soulmate looked stunning. Absolutely handsome. He should wear a suit more often.

He wished he'd be there with him. He wanted to be the one walking next to him over that carpet.

For a moment he smiled, imagining his life if he wasn't a rider. Just a boyfriend. A wag. Or a hab or whatever the male equivalent was.

He'd be happy to be a wag if he was Bezs wag. He could stand in the garage, looking at the races, looking worried. Annoy some people. Being in the ears of Marcos team until they gave him a yapp prohibition.

There wouldn't be tention. He wouldn't be there enemy. Just another friendly face.

Maybe he'd be a mechanic in Cevera. He'd be living a normal life with his motogp star boyfriend. No one asking for pictures or autographs. He would be able to move to Italy without feeling like a whole nation despises him.

He sighed, knowing that this life wasn't on the table. He was just looking for a way to not deal with the current trouble and drama.

An hour passes. Another hour went by and he still hadn't heard from his boyfriend. He assumed he was out with Pecco, his team and the academy, celebrating.

He had also celebrated with his team.

So he knew it could take a while and he didn't hold it against him. Afterall he didn't care when Marco came to him. He only cared if he actually came.

Maybe he was angry at him, for crashing him. He wouldn't hold it against him. But still... He just hoped they would be okay.

But when he returned, late at night, there was still no sigh. No text. No call. No Bez. And it worried him. He probably had already messed up.

He knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep like this. So he stayed awake,

Then someone knocked on the door.

Then again. He heard voices. Multiple. Not just one which could have been his boyfriend. And he wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Then he opened the door, faced with Valentino Rossi and he decided it wasn't good. There was a hateful expression on the Italians face.

Okay that wasn't just not good. This was really, really fucking bad.

But at least he had Bez with him. A very, very drunk Bez, leaning against the older Italian. But his face lit up when he saw Marc. He smiled, his grin reaching far above his ears. His eyes were shining.

Unlike Vale who still had the biggest "Fuck you" expression in his eyes.

"Eh-" "So you are not just fucking my title but also my students?" Rossi asked, his voice colder than titanic water. "EEEYYYY!" Bez intervened immediately. "Not studentsssssss. Just me. Only me. FOREVER ONLY ME!" "Yeah he better. Or it'll be his last fuck"

Great.

"And we haven't even fucked" Marco continued and the Spaniard suddenly realized that disappearing into the ground would actually be the best option.

"He wants to woo me. And we had the race. But now there's no more racing so he can finally fuck me into the mattress. Or I fuck him. That'd be even better. I reeeallllly want to fuck him. Like reeeeaaaal hard."

And with that disappearing in the ground was still not enough. He saw how the eye brows of the older Italian were raised. His mouth slight open as if he was about to say something but didn't know what anymore.

Same Rossi. Same.

He swallowed hard. Fuck, silence would just make this more awkward. So he decided to act like that hadn't just been sat.

"Hi... So... Ehm... He told you? About us?" Which definitely was the wrong decisions, based on Vale's look. "No. I can read his mind. What do you think dibshit?"

Even better.

"He refused to stay anywhere except at your place. So can he stay here or should he sleep outside?"

"No. Fuck, no of course not." Okay, sort your mind. Get in line. Act polite and like the perfect son in law. Quickly he stepped aside to let him through and close the door again.

He then stepped towards Marcos other side, carefully trying to take his other side to stabilize him. "I'll help you-" he wanted to offer but got interrupted quickly. "I can carry my boys on my own."

Perfect. New record to offend Rossi. Actually he probably had a negative time with this one. After all he definitely had already offended him by dating one of his students.

Not that he as a person cared. He didn't care what Rossi thought about him or if he approved his relationships or not. He couldn't care less actually. But Marco cared about his opinion. He was important to Marco so Marc had to play nice and somehow try to get this together. So his opinion was important to him to.

He quietly guided Vale to the bedroom where the older placed the curly head rider.

"Mmmmmh" Marco exclaimed. His eyes were closed as he burried his head in Marc's pillow and sheets. "Smells like Marc" "Are you happy?" Vale asked, kneeling next to the bed, eye to eye with his boy.

His voice was soft. Filled with love and care. Marc was standing at the door, give them space, contemplating to leave to give them privacy or staying. He stayed. Just to watch the relationship unfold.

Vale pushed a strain of hair out the drunk ones face and whispered something Marc couldn't understand. Then he stood up, giving Bez a kiss on the forehead. "Love you, papa" the boy whispered and Vale grinned.

"Love you too, bambino. Now get some sleep." "Okay... Where's Marc? Need to cuddle Marc or I can't sleep." he sounded pounding. Like a child that was frustarted about something.

The Spaniard was about to step forward when Vale pulled him back. "No worries. He'll be there soon. I just need a word with him"

And kill him, Marc added in his head. This couldn't end well. Nothing of this could actually go well at this moment. Vale was clearly pissed - at least he seemed to only be pissed at Marc. Not Bez. That was a win.

But still. He had to somehow handle this. He had to figure this out before Marco got a mental break down.

"So... You're dating Marco" Vale said, leaning against a cupboard. His eyes dark. Arms crossed infront of his chest.

"Yes. I am" he said and felt like a child under the older man's eyes. Where was that fucking 8 time World champion confidence when he needed it?

But this wasn't about a championship or a race or racing or something like this. This was about something even bigger and more important.

Marco.

"I want you to break up with him." It felt like a break in his heart. "You're not good for him and we both know that you will hurt him. Physically. Mentally. Both. Everything. You will hurt him in every way imagineable."

It sucked all air out of him. No. No he wouldn't. He wouldn't hurt Marco, never him.

"In the end it's Bez that will suffer. You're just going to move on. But he - my boy - you will break him"

"I-" No. He had no idea. He felt anger rise in him. It wasn't like that. He wasn't like that. "How fucking dare you?" he shot back. He won't hurt Marco. No matter what he had to do, he wouldn't.

"You have no idea what you are talking about. You don't know me. You never did. I love Marco. I love him withe everything that I am and have. He is my soulmate and I will stay his soulmate to the day that I die. I will love him till the day that I die and then come back and love him even longer. I would never ever hurt him!"

"And what was that today?"

Fuck.

"A fucking accident!" he exclaimed. "I would never, ever hurt him on porpuse! I love him! If you like that or not, I am a part of his life now. So please, fucking hell, I am begging you, you're too important to him. Can-"

It was a laughter that interrupted him.

Confused he blinked when he saw Vale's serious facade Crack and reveal loud and rich laughter.

"I'm sorry." he said, still giggling. "I'm sorry. I really thought I could pull this off with a straight face but that just broke me." "I- I - I don't understand." he exclaimed.

He blinked a few times and wondered if this was a weird dream. "Obviously. Oh that look on your face." Vale grinned at him. At least it looked - happy?

"What?" "My god, Marc, do you really think I give a fuck about who my boys are dating?" "Again. What?"

Vale smiled at him. It was a creepy smile that did make Marc feel slightly unsettled but it was better than the murder looks from earlier. "I don't give a fuck that you - Marc Marquez - are dating Marco. I care about the facts that he is loved and cared for. And you clearly do that. He talked a lot about you, you know... So really, I don't care. I just wanted to have some fun giving you a hard time."

"Wait, that just - your hate and the breaking up part was-" "Fake. Yes. I don't want you to break up with him. Actually, if you do, you'll wish the times from 2016-18 back because if you do hurt my boy, I'll finish you. Understood?"

Ah. There was the threatening he expected.

"Understood."

"Great! So now that that's solved - by the way he told me when he was more or less sober. I'll still give you a hard time, I do with all of my boys partners but you are welcome at the ranch, if you want to... But no riding for you. For now."

"Yes!" he quickly agreed. "I'm happy as Marcos wag" He earned another smile for that comment.

"Great. I'll see you around" Vale decided and went toward the door to let himself out. But then he stopped and turned back around.

"OH before I forget it-" he said and handed him a phone. Bez phone. Confused Marc stared at it. "Marcos phones?" he asked.

"Yeah. Last time we let him have his phone will drunk and stoned, he posted a dick pick on his story" "He did what now-" "Anyway... Cute texts by the way. The 'I love you even if I'm an idiot' was so sweet I almost through up. Fucking softie. See you!"

With that he left and Marc wondered what he had gotten himself into.

But when he laid down in bed, immediately being taken into a bear hug that felt like Marco never wanted to let him go, he couldn't be more happy.

[hihoace]

Humans drink poison?

(here is part 3. I hope you will enjoy it.)

Helle laughed out loud watching the scene. Which reminded Ga'al that he's not alone with Fe'ek, so he let his friend live another day.

She was curious as to what does Ga'al still do to make him fall asleep but it seemed she'll have to wait to learn that.

"So yes... We all had our ways to stay calm... You'll be fine." Ga'al tried to save whatever left of his dignity after the previous scene.

"Sweet!" she smiled than she heard the metallic noice that ment it is soon time to sleep on this side of the ship. "Oh, that's the first nightcall, think we should eat dinner, right?"

"Oh, you are so right... Humans are not exclusively herbivorus, right?" Fe'ek asked. When Helle shook her head he nodded. "Perfect. That means I don't have to cook separatly!"

He started to pack out his cooking tools. He knew he could just use one of the fast food packages but no matter how long he stayed on the ship he couldn't get used to them. They tased like plastic to him. Ga'al was perfectly fine with them, but still preferred "real" food so he also agreed to get a few cooking tools and make a kitchen in their quarters. It took months till they got the green light to build it, but they both agreed, it worth the effort.

While Fe'ek made dinner, Ga'al and Helle started to have a conversation. They talked about their homes. Helle was amazed that on Ga'al home world, the cities were builed on trees. He talked about how Felleg, the biggest city there was taking up half of the planted and still it could not be seen from above.

And Helle told stories about Gaia's culture and how it is still devided into small local regions and all of them have different laws and a lot of the time, even different languages. Fe'ek was listening to them from the kitchen.

"So what do your species eat? Do you also like fish?"

"Yes I personally like it, but some of us hates the taste or the texture. Humans can eat almost everything. I even like coffee in the morning."

Ga'al stopped mid movement. "What?"

"Coffee!" Helle repeated.

"Oh I thought you said coffein... The poison."

"Coffee has coffein in it." Fe'ek peeked out from the kitchen. "I've been working with poisons before and learned that humans are somewhat immune to them. 400 milligrams of coffein daily is completly manageable for them."

"And we can drink more from time to time, but if we go above that every day it can cause some heart problems." Helle added.

"You mean to tell me, that the worst poison that is still legal is barely causing an inconvenience to you?" Ga'al was buffeled.

"That's the main reason it's still legal. Some scientists even suggest that it is beneficial to drink it every day, though it's still debated." Helle shrugged.

"And wait, I know something even better!" said Fe'ek as he came out from the kitchen. "Humans can digest alcohol."

Ga'al stared at Helle. "Is that true?"

The girl just nodded. "Though I hate the taste of it."

Up untill this point Ga'al has looked at Helle as someone who has a very similar physiology to him and is otherwise harmless. Now he was was looking at her with a bit more respect. Helle tilted her head to the side.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Dinner is ready by the way!" Fe'ek's hand landed on Ga'al's shoulder. "Could you two set the table, please?"

Ga'al nodded again.

He was silent troughout the dinner while Helle and Fe'ek exchanges a few gossips from the ship. Helle seemed to know a lot about what happened lately in sector no. 12 and 13 and Fe'ek knew all the local gossips in 25 and 26 where they worked.

After eating they cleaned up the table and the kitchen. Everything was done when they heard the nightcall again. It was time to sleep. The lights of sector no. 24 went out with the lights in theor room.

"Oh well... I think we should sleep..." Fe'ek yawned.

Helle started looking for her nightlight. She turned it up as soon as she found it.

Ga'al offered his bed to her, but she declined the offer, saying she's fine with sleeping on the couch and she doesn't want to be any more of an inconvenience.

After that everyone went to sleep. Helle fell asleep almost immidietly. Fe'ek noted that she probably had a long day. Ga'al agreed.

Before falling asleep Fe'ek taught Ga'al some things about humans he knew. He reassured him that even though humans are fine with alcohol and coffein they are not immune to botulinum for example. Ga'al fell asleep after a while so he could go to sleep too finally.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

i adore reading your analytical posts abt soc so much jts not even funny; stumbling upon your account was like a coming across a goldmine 🙏 ALSO I RLLY WANT TO ONOW ABT THE SHE TREATS US LJKE MARKS ESSAY IVE NEVER THOIGHT ABT THAT RLLY also i loved the mr crimson post anw im sorry i’ll shut up now

Thank you so much, I’m so glad you like them!!

This is the first time someone’s submitted a question so bare with me because if there’s any way to do this wrong I’ll probably manage it, but here are my thoughts on the red herrings :)

She’s treating us like marks - an analysis of Leigh Bardugo’s use of red herrings in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom

*warning: CONSTANT SPOILERS AHEAD!*

I happen to be an absolute sucker for a good bit of foreshadowing, I think if it’s done well it’s one of the best literary techniques out there, so it’s something I always like to try and be on the look out for when I read. With books that I go back and reread, in this case many many times (seriously I’ve never specifically counted but I’m pretty sure I’m at over ten times each for the duology, it’s ridiculous), I like to find the things I didn’t realise were foreshadowing the first time round. When rereading six of crows and crooked kingdom, I realised that a lot of the things I expected to be foreshadowing didn’t actually come to fruition whilst other, seemingly less important, details were the actual foreshadowing. I LOVE IT! It’s genius, because it leaves the reader worrying about one thing so they’re too distracted to realise the groundwork is being laid for something else. But you know what that makes me think of? Kaz’s ideology of “What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet? […] Tell him you’re going to steal his watch,” and “you have to let the mark feel like he’s won”. Leigh Bardugo literally cons us, and she tells us that she’s doing it in Crooked Kingdom when the group are certain that they know where Inej is being kept, but Kaz says “Too obvious. He’s treating us like marks”. GENIUS

So I compiled a few of my favourite examples (in no particular order), if you know of any I’ve missed please add more I would love to see them!!

The cannon at the Ice Court. When the Crows first arrive in Djerholm they see a cannon built into the the cliff face, a defence mechanism for the Court, and Kaz says what might be one of my favourite underrated lines of his: “I’ve broken into banks, warehouses, mansions, museums, vaults, a rare book library, and once the bedchamber of a visiting Kaelish diplomat whose wife had a passion for emeralds. But I’ve never had a cannon shot at me”. Jesper jokes that “there’s something to be said for novelty” but then continues to say that a cannon would be useless against a ship as small as theirs and that it’s designed for “invading armadas”. They don’t mention the cannon again, but it stuck in my mind when I first read it as a looming threat, a reminder that the danger wouldn’t end when they left the court. So when they arrived in the harbour was I expecting soldiers, or a heartrender, or for Nina to take parem? Nope, I was too busy worrying about the schooner being blown to pieces - especially when the Crows all have such specific painful and/or traumatic experiences linking to water, with 4 out of 6 of them being drowning related. But that isn’t to say that the waiting soldiers at the dock weren’t foreshadowed. All the way through Leigh Bardugo constantly reminds us that Matthias had never seen black protocol in action, and that his time in the prison sector had been brief, but she lulls us into a false sense of security by letting us believe that the secret bridge onto the White Island was all Matthias was hiding. We trust him by this point, so we don’t expect anything to be different to what he’s told us, even though this is an aspect he couldn’t possibly have predicted. Bonus points for the fact that Nina’s poor well-being in the aftermath of the drug is foreshadowed by a joke at the awful Inn they go to before the job; the food is disgusting and she says “when I don’t want to eat, you know there’s a problem”, and in Crooked Kingdom it’s many times emphasised that she’s unhealthily losing weight and her appetite has vastly decreased, with Matthias buying her chocolate biscuits “in the hopes she’d eat something”.

The poison pill. Leigh Bardugo worked very hard in Crooked Kingdom to make us think that Nina might die. We went into that book knowing there was a strong possibility that she wouldn’t come out the other side; we knew very little about how she was coping with parem withdrawal at the end of soc, but we had seen around a minimum of five grisha being destroyed by the drug so far. (That’s a guess I haven’t actually counted). So we went in with the idea that she was already in a precarious situation, and even though we begin to see her regain herself she struggles throughout the novel both physically and mentally in the aftermath of the drug. Matthias begins to dream of being lost on the ice in the worst storms known to Fjerda, knowing that she was out there somewhere and that he could not reach her. This sounds like it’s foreshadowing her death. Then when the pair go to the Ravkan embassy, Tamar gives Nina a small yellow pill that Genya made; she explains that it kills instantly and painlessly, saying “we all have them” to make sure they cannot be drugged and enslaved by the Shu government, who are hunting for grisha with the Khergud at the time. Matthias is terrified by this, but Nina just slips it into her pocket without a second thought. At that moment I thought that Nina would almost take the pill only to be stopped by someone else, because it felt too obvious that it would kill her, but I did wonder if the Khergud would be the ones to stop her and so she would still be lost. But the pill never gets mentioned again, except when the Dime Lions come for Nina at Sweet Reef and she briefly remembers that it’s still in her pocket. Then never again. And Matthias’ dreams were, of course, actually foreshadowing the FESTIVAL OF PAIN AND TORTURE that is chapter 40.

Mr Crimson. I’m so glad you like my Mr Crimson idea! Basically I posted saying I think that he represents death in the novels and I’ve also talked before about how I think the Komedie Brute costumes that the characters usually adopt are representative of their character; Kaz the Madman, Nina the Lost Bride, Inej and Wylan the Grey Imp, and Jesper and Matthias Mr Crimson. I won’t go into detail about all of them but if you’re interested the post is on my page, but with the idea that Mr Crimson represents death it’s very important to me that, although all of them wear his cloak at least once, he is the only Komedie Brute character taken on by Jesper and Matthias (at least to my recollection, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong). So of course I would argue that Matthias taking on the image in Crooked Kingdom foreshadows his death, but in that case what does Jesper’s represent? I came up with two options but I actually think you could combine them into one: it’s a red herring to make us align him with the literal death of Matthias, whilst actually foreshadowing the metaphorical death that his addiction and mental well-being are driving him towards as he tries desperately to stop them - in his own words to Colm “I’m dying anyway, Da, I’m just doing it slow”

Oh god sorry that this is yet another long post I hope y’all enjoyed this enough for it to be worth the time it takes for you to read all my ramblings 😭

Tagging people who asked for this one in the replies to my essay titles post - @the-magnificunt @flerkenkiddingme @luridorangeandviolentviolet @snowblack-charcoalwhite

[ranahan]

What do you think is the correct word for "greater Mandalorian space"? I've seen 'Mandalase', don't remember where though, and have been using Tra'Manda in my own fics. Is there anything established in canon/fanon?

Good question! I’ve pondered it myself and the answer I’ve arrived at is that there should probably be several words.

See, what is meant by “the greater Mandalorian space” probably varies depending on the time and the speaker and the context, because the Mandalorian civilisation is a bit like the Roman civilisation: do you mean Rome the city, Rome the administrative region, the Roman Empire, or the Roman world as a cultural area?

For Mandalore we have at least these different senses:

Mandalore the planet (“Mandalore actual” or Manda’yaim)

Mandalore system (which includes at least three other inhabited planets and moons)

Mandalore sector

The entire area of space administered by the Mandalorian government (which is never really defined in canon)

Mandalorian Empire (historical)

The wider Mandalorian cultural area/area influenced or historically a part of the Mandalorian Empire

The indented words are from the unedited parts of my dictionary, so they are somewhat tentative and I’m not necessarily married to them. However this is what I currently have.

#1

The first is easy, the planet Mandalore is called Manda’yaim in Mando’a.

Manda’yaim: 1 the planet Mandalore, the fifth planet in the Mandalore system, capital world of the Mandalorians; 2 during periods of diaspora, can also refer to other Mandalorian areas or enclaves

haat’manda’yaim: Manda'yaim proper; planet Mandalore in contrast to its satellite Concordia, other planets in the Mandalore system, other Mandalorian worlds, or Mandalorian enclaves of the Mandalorian diaspora

#2

The Mandalorian system we can probably form directly from the word for a star system, perhaps Mando’tolase, lit. Mandalorian system, assuming tolase is also the word used for star systems and not just for other kinds of systems (not sure which way I lean on it tbh). Or Manda’tolase, if you subscribe to the fandom take that the star Mandalore is named Manda (or a variation thereof).

Or people might colloquially refer to the Mandalorian system also as Manda’lase.

I imagine there’s probably some kind of interplanetary law which defines what area of space is considered to belong to a planetary system and what is “international waters”/deep space.

#3-4

The third is what I suppose you were asking about. I’ve seen Manda’lase all over the place, but I don’t actually know where it came from—if anyone does know, please let me know! Linguistically the derivation goes something like this: manda ‘the shared Mandalorian oversoul’ > manda’la ‘having the Mandalorian soul, i.e. Mandalorian’ > Manda’lase ‘all of Mandalorians collectively’. In any case, I rather like it and have been using it myself since it seems about as established as anything in Fando’a.

Edit: Manda’lase appears to have been coined by Batsutousai; thanks for @johamur for pointing it out!

Mando’tra, Mandalorian space could also work. Manda’tra, substituting the word mando ‘mandalorian’ for manda ‘soul’, sounds to me a bit like the emphasis is on the shared culture less than the shared administration. Not that Mandalorians themselves necessarily see a big difference there.

It’s unclear whether Mandalore sector refers to a geographical area or an administrative region. I guess in everyday speech, people might conflate the two and use Manda’lase for both. So you might end up with a definition something like the following:

Manda’lase: 1 Mandalorian space; 2 Mandalorian system; 3 Mandalorian sector (colloquially)

In any case, I haven’t come up with a word for sector I like yet, although it’s on my list of needed words.

#5-6

For the historical Mandalorian Empire, I have:

Mando’alorai (or Mand’alorai): 1 Mandalorian Empire (historical); 2 still sometimes used of the regions that used to be governed by the Empire as a cultural area

alorai (n): 1 empire; 2 realm, domain, holding, governed area

Where alorai is either a portmanteau of alor + veeray, or alor + the same nominal suffix -ai we have in e.g. parjai.

Another option is:

Ori’Manda’lase: Mandalorian Empire (lit. Great Mandalore); Greater Mandalore, the historical region of space once controlled by the Mandalorian Empire

ori’manda’la (a): imperial (of Mandalorian Empire specifically, not other empires); of or belonging to Greater Mandalore, the historical region once controlled by Mandalorian Empire

ori’manda’lase tugoten (n): Mandalorian Empire Revivalism (Revanchism), an ideology on Mandalore that supports the revival of the Mandalorian Empire and a return to Mandalore's conquering days.

ori’manda’lase tugotenii (n): Mandalorian Empire revivalist, a supporter of Mandalorian Empire Revivalism. Tugotenii for short.

I’m using revivalism and revivalist over revanchism and revanchist, because in the Star Wars universe revanchists could be confused with supporters of Revan.

In any case, I think context should determine whether you mean the historical empire as a nation state, or the historical empire as a current area of cultural influence. Most reasonable beings would use Mandalorian Empire in either of these two senses, but then you have the likes of Tor Vizsla, who’d probably use a term with a similar sense to “Greater Russia”, i.e. areas that “should” belong to or be returned to Mandalorian governance.

I have some other scattered words and thoughts about Mandalorian government and citizenship, but this is already pretty long. In any case, that’s what a quick search through my dictionary file brought up, hope you found something to your liking!

[darqx]

It’s late and i cant think of a title OTL

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

FFFFT IF ONLY MY IRL SELF WAS AS PRODUCTIVE AS YOUR DREAM VERSION OF ME, DEAR GOD XDDD

Oh he has a number of Royal duties and that’s mainly running the equivalent of a country lol. So a lot of politicking, making decisions for his sector and that no one but him is fucking with the trade route, getting rid of rabble rousers if needed, fighting any Battle Royale challenges (not often nowadays). That’s not his daily routine obvs but any given day would have something particularly related to the politicking.

I cannot say if Rire would take someone as a Royal Consort but he could. Other Royals have spouses so it’s not like it’s unheard of lol.

My personal opinion is that Rire is like a master to demon!Strade (cos he DID give Rire his soul in this outcome) but also he’s not tugging on his leash all the time because he finds it infinitely more entertaining to let him loose and see what happens.

I have answered before how Rire would be as a father! It’s in this answer dump. To quote here:

Aristocrat dad, when he is around simultaneously kind of strict (has expectations of child) but also school of hard knocks and doesnt care unless you are annoying him so not overbearing. Teaches child essential things like ballroom dancing, manners and how to destroy people.

Also will not hesitate to kill child if they conspire against him so there’s that.

I’ve had a few of these recently and whilst I’ve answered them directly I figured one being placed here might be helpful.

With Rire (and only Rire for me lol) because he's mostly known through BTD - me and Gato decided that as long as people were using their OWN art, then they could sell fan products of our main BTD characs. So, a) as long as someone is only using their own BTD artwork and b) saying where the characters are from/not claiming the characters as their own, then it is ok.

(though, this is just for me and Gato's characs I think - Gato might want to clarify her stance if anything has changed. I don't know what EP's stance on this is)

Hello! To answer your qs, yes Rire is quite partial to that style (not entirely too sure about the age itself per say but some of the aesthetics and culture, which was already a bit similar to his own) :D

I think there are no real “rules” to having oc insert interaction, unless you are trying to be very true to the source material lol. After all, oc insert is mainly to have fun with an existing concept right? :) With BTD, since the “au” was already like a smash bros kind of thing with characs from different universes (ie Rire from my BP au, Strade from Gato’s TINR au, Sano from whatever EP was working on), there’s kind of almost...nothing that can’t be shoved in XD. This is because whatever rules that apply for our individual aus don’t apply to the BTD one. So if you wanted to have fun with your god/deity oc then you can if you really want ✌🏻

Rire’s reaction to one would really depend on the power level of said god/deity. If he calculates that he has a very low chance of say beating them in a fight, then he would probably make sure their paths do not cross often. If they are of around equal power or he is more powerful, then his actions wouldn’t change much from what we have seen from him already. He is always making sure he gets the best outcomes from things.

(A realm for souls huh? That might be interesting for Rire considering he is a soul stealer/soul eater demon haha!)

I do not, sorry ~

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Hi, hope you are having a great day! I wanted to ask about how would you describe the features of someone with heterochromia so that the readers would know that they have 2 different eye colours? Whether they have brown+black eyes, brown+green eyes, hazel+blue, etc. Especially if they have complete heterochromia, central heterochromia and sectrol heterochromia. I'll take any suggestions that you have -🦋

Hi 🦋 :)

I hope you're having a great day too!

How to write heterochromia

do not repost. I read that the word also applies to hair and skin, so to be sure: this post is about the eyes. Not an expert, if you want me to correct something please let me know!

Different types of heterochromia

Complete

one eye has a different colour than the other eye

this can be because of genetics, but also because of disease or an injury

Sectoral

one iris contains different colours in sections

Central

one iris contains different colours

a tighter ring around the iris in one colour and the outer ring in a different one

the inner ring can also have spikes which makes the colour appear in the form of a star

Heterochromia is rare among humans. One of the eye colours is the original one and the other one has a pigment disorder. A simple heterochromia doesn't come with medical issues. A partial heterochromia is often not that pronounced and noticeable.

How to write it

don't try to focus too much on the eyes

don't mention them in every chapter

if they are a very visible form of heterochromia (for example complete with a lighter colour and a dark colour) then you could write a character's reaction to seeing them when they first meet, because it is something that is rare to see

if they have a sectoral or central form which is often not that noticable, I would mention it even less

another character would have to focus on their eyes to see it

so you could mention it through another character in a scene where their faces get very close to each other and they stare into each other's eyes

More ideas:

ask yourself, why do they need to know the eye colour? Eye colour ususally doesn't say a lot about a person other than physical appearance

if it's only about physical appearance, see how to write it above

if it's important for the story (e.g. magical powers) then you can of course mention it more often

same goes for, if the colour of the eyes changes for some reason (which is also possible without magic, due to a disease or injury)

- Jana

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Poets and Painters (Late Afternoon) - Wolffe x Reader [Mature Fic]

Warnings and Information: In desperate need of just one day to take his and his men's mind off the war, Plo Koon orders that everyone make a stop on a relatively uninhabited planet in a peaceful sector of the galaxy to… have a picnic? Just what does he have in mind? A certain flint-gray Commander is finding it hard to believe that they're just on the planet for a day of R&R in the middle of a war, so he isn't letting his guard down. Perhaps someone will help Commander Wolffe find some way to help him relax before the day is over… 2nd person POV. Reader is undescribed save for minor details like personal touches to a uniform, and has a gender-neutral alias. Allusions to canon-typical violence, mention of injury and loss [and in this segment, more explicit conversation about death and what comes after], Plo just being a dad to the 104th Battalion in the background. Swearing. Discussion of more adult themes and some lewd jokes the more the fic progresses (this is not an Explicit fic but it is Mature; Minors please DNI). Takes place on a fictional planet. 

Word-count: 5,342

Late Afternoon

Everyone will look a little sun-kissed by nightfall after spending all day basking in the light of Little Archossi's nearest star. It'll be easier to notice on some members of the crew with skin different than the deeper browns commonly found among the Clones. Hopefully people found and remembered to use sun protection this morning. (Or, the medics aboard the Triumphant have a lot of bacta gel in case people come back to the cruiser looking redder than the skies over Dathomir.) 

You’ve been doing your best to prevent getting sunburned, others don’t give a single kark in the galaxy. Much like this particular Clone who’s lazing in the grass, fingers interlocked and tucked around the back of his head, one leg propped up in the air on the opposite knee as he sways and bobs his foot in time with some song stuck in his head that’s popular on the Holonet these days. Maker alive, you can only hope he won’t get sunburn, given that he's a spacer. (You're pretty sure he is, anyhow, given the uniform of a naval officer.)

 "I wish we had more days like this… Don't you, Arcadia?"

Those who spend much of their time in space and under artificial lighting are loving this. Sun lamps can only do so much for keeping their overall mental well-being buoyed. For all the technological advancements in the galaxy, there are some few things there are still no shortcuts for. 

You certainly don't disagree, but you need to finish passing out the rest of this crate you volunteered to distribute to people on this side of the clearing. This trooper lazing about in the grass is slowing you down, so you playfully roll your eyes, and fix him with your best look to show him you're not afraid to mean business if he doesn't sit up soon. "Maybe when the war's over, soldier. C'mon, take your ration so I don't lose my momentum. Commander Wolffe wouldn't be happy to hear if anyone goes hungry today." 

No, he probably won't be, the trooper agrees with a kind chuckle. He sits up and takes the ration gratefully. "First thing I'll do is have a picnic, I think. When the war is over." The troopers and crew are - technically speaking - having a picnic right now, you point out with a bemused grin, handing off another individually wrapped ration bar to his neighbor. "I mean a proper one. With food, instead of rations! Something with flavor. Not colorless and loaded with bland preservatives." 

"Beige is a color." you retort. 

"Karkin' ugly one, sure." 

You fix him with a teasing grin this time. "Are you pulling a prank on me by pretending to be Orchid? I can actually tell the men apart from one another, you know." A careful balancing act of patience and practice, to be sure, but the time spent observing everyone pays off for moments like these grateful smiles. 

"You can? Then who's that over there, slinking out of the forest just a little off to the left?" 

Yes, you definitely can, you promise the Clone trooper who's decided to be cheeky with you. And- perfect! You've got just one ration pack left in the box, and he doesn't have one in his hands, as far as you can tell. "Everything okay, Comet? Have you gotten a lunch ration yet?" 

"Oh good, I would've hated to miss chow. Thank you, Arcadia. And yeah, everything's good; just well-hydrated." 

You toss him the last ration pack from right where you are and tuck the box against your side now that it's empty. "Better that than being dehydrated. Enjoy your lunch, Comet." 

"Where's your's?" He's sweet enough to worry and ask why you don't have any food for yourself, but it's unnecessary. 

"I'll get one from another crate, don't worry, Comet." you assure him with a warm smile. You'll probably see him soon enough when he joins the small assembly on the hill under the red and yellow leafed tree with Sinker, Boost and the Commander. You imagine you'll be joined by Plo Koon as well. 

But will you still get to address Wolffe like an equal in front of his sergeants when it’s no longer just the two of you? Or should you play it safe and return to addressing him as commander and sir rather than risk looking, acting, overly familiar?

"All finished, Arcadia?" 

"Passed off the last in the box to Comet." you explain, sitting across from Commander Wolffe rather than next to him. His brothers have taken up their places beside him, leaving you no room to join. And that's fine; you already sat side by side with Wolffe for hours. 

“Then that should be everyone. Here.” Rather than ask one of his brothers, Wolffe gives you one of the rations in the box settled behind him in the shade, sheltered from the sunlight. You take it gratefully from his hand. “Thank you, sir. Hopefully these aren’t too bad.” Always a bit of a gamble, ration bars… Some are pretty soft and crumbly while others are tough and chewy. The flavor is oftentimes fairly plain at best, or rather unpleasant if you’re unlucky in your choices of supplier. But a meal’s a meal. 

As you’re chewing your first bite of the ration bar thoughtfully, trying to imagine who in their right mind would willingly scarf these down were it not for a war, the Commander politely clears his throat to get your attention. 

“You’re still welcome to call me Wolffe, Arcadia.”

The slight warmth in your face has nothing to do with the sun above you; it's the six eyes trained on you and your every little move as you further shuck the wrapper encasing the foodstuffs. "Sorry, I… didn't want to assume it was still okay now that it's not just the two of us." you explain, nodding hello to Sinker and Boost in kind. (They return the gesture just as politely.) But if you're still invited to address him without his rank, or a respectful term, then you certainly will. It had just been better to play it safe. 

"I see…" His eyes narrow here, and for a heartbeat, you think he's almost sort of glaring you down, but you realize he's squinting and looking behind you. "What is the General doing…?" 

You turn and look.

Master Plo Koon is standing at the edge of the clearing, speaking with Comet, who's pointing deep into the trees. He's making animated hand gestures, and demonstrating the size and shape of something to the Jedi. Tall, and coming to a peak. And he's not having a lot of luck with properly conveying a few other things, as evident by the long, growing pauses and the Kel Dor softly shaking his head. Finally Comet gets a better idea, and is gesturing for the General to follow him. 

"Arcadia, could I use one of the pages in your sketchbook? There's something I'm trying to figure out how to explain to the General. There's something in the forest, I think."

That gets Wolffe's attention. 

You carefully tear one of the pages out by the perforated edge, and pluck one of the graphite pencils from your bag for him to borrow. The words something in the forest sounded a little urgent to you, and like the Jedi, you want to understand what's going on now. Like Wolffe, you want to determine if this thing is a threat. 

Comet thanks you, and begins to send the pencil shwoop!-ing against the page without a moment of hesitation. He's gotten a good look, some of the shapes looked pretty organic to him, from what he could make out. Boost chuckles, trying to lighten the growing tension when Wolffe gets to his feet, and stands beside his brother, observing. 

"Yeah, they're called trees, Comet; those are pretty damn organic." 

Comet shakes his head firmly, his full lips pursed together in concentration as he quickly tries to sketch down what he saw. "No, it looked different. Like a sort of… hut built around a tree. But it was really far away, so I couldn't see it clearly." When he came back from doing his business out in the woods, he meant to inform the Commander and General what he saw; but you had stopped by with food, a momentary distraction. 

What Comet thinks he saw was some kind of structure from the inhabitants of Little Archossi. "Perhaps I should investigate the structure and the surrounding area, to determine what it is that Comet saw... Commander Wolffe, remain here with the battalion, and be prepared for anything." Plo Koon offers, beginning to walk where he's been directed. 

Wolffe bristles at the idea of General Plo volunteering to investigate the structure alone. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea, General." 

He is invited to stand down, asked to watch over his brothers and the crew once again. "Don't worry, Commander," the Kel Dor adds soothingly, laying a steady hand on the shoulder bell that bears the face of the wolf on the flint-gray armor, "I do not sense any threats or hear any warnings from the Force, for the time being."

"... very well, General." the man with the mark of a survivor agrees reluctantly. 

Survivors get scars for their efforts, Arcadia. Skin-deep, scrawled in the deepest recesses of their minds… it doesn't matter. A scar is a scar. But the victims… the dead… they are lucky if they get a crude headstone in this war. 

"I'll keep an eye on the men. Wait for your orders." Wolffe promises a little more firmly. And you, interrupting Boost and Sinker without intention, offer to help the Commander keep an eye on everyone this time. The look the three of you direct his way says, in a way impossible to mistake for anything else says you think you're doing this again, alone? 

Somehow, we'll pass the time together. 

According to the display in the upper right-hand corner of the datapad in your hand, the time is 14:30. You have another half-hour to go before it is 15:00, and have agreed with Sargeants Sinker and Boost that is when you should start to become concerned for the male Kel Dor's absence. 

Jedi Master Plo Koon left to investigate the structure out in the forests of Little Archossi at 12:30 sharp, and he has not yet returned. But he has touched the comlink at least once, to inform his commander of his findings. 

"The structure is a crude hut… One in desperate need of repair; time has not been kind to it in its occupant's absence. I sense it has been empty for a long, long time. I saw other, similar structures further still into the forest - I intend to investigate these as well. No trouble in the clearing still, I hope, Commander Wolffe?" 

"No sir. Everything is fine." Wolffe had promised him, likely grateful that the Jedi could not see the tightness of his jaw, and the disapproving shake of his head. He still didn't (and still doesn't) like the idea of his general being so far from the safety of the clearing without company. 'Someone should have gone with him' has been uttered more than once to the three who have volunteered to split the load of monitoring the company and the edge of the surrounding forest. 

"General, I-"

"Yes, Commander?"

Wolffe had shaken his head again, and changed his mind. "...I thought you would like to know Tack confirmed the blue flowers are in fact Dinocaeruleus anthos and has checked the credibility of the original findings. He and Arcadia believe it will still be best not to draw excessive attention to them." 

You and Tack both had been praised and thanked for your diligent assessment and skills as a researcher respectively before the Force-wielder said he expected to return to the clearing by 15:00 at the earliest. If anything delayed him, he would be making contact once more. 

The nearest star is no longer directly overhead, and the shadows are just beginning to lengthen and throw themselves further eastward. You distract yourself from your worries about the General's absence with something to read for a moment, something chosen at random. (You were "instructed" to take a break as part of some protocol (one you are partly suspect of being made up).) 

You're not paying much attention to the Aurebesh on the screen, quite honestly. 

You're more distracted by the Commander and his acts of quiet anxiety. Patrolling the circumference of the clearing once again, routinely stopping and watching in the direction of the dilapidated hut for any signs of the Jedi. Discreetly conferring with Sinker and Boost. And when they can convince him, he returns to either of the tallest grassy hills for a moment to stop and observe all of his men at once. 

The time is now 14:35. 

And your reading material is about as interesting as an instruction manual on how to polish and clean up a blaster without corroding the material or compromising its firepower. So you decide it's time to try something else from the reading material you have loaded up on the device. 

It's labeled as one of the free holo-novels of the month, courtesy of the five-credits-a-standard-month subscription service that was recommended to you, a best-seller. But there's no synopsis or pitch of any kind that advertises what you'll find inside and why you should read it. It boasts a generic title (The Rush of Hyperspace) and pretty innocent cover artwork of an astro-map. 

Curious, you select the best seller just as Orchid passes by behind you. The whispered words from over your shoulder chill the very blood in your veins.

"Psst, hey, Arcadia! You realize you're reading that in public, right?" 

"What do you-?" your eyes flit to the very first sentence now that the screen has loaded in, and oh galaxy and all her stars. The very first sentence talks about how much this protagonist - a soldier - misses his girl, and the steering column is not the only thing he's throttling at the mere thought of her… the words 'a loud, sinful groan filling the cockpit' are practically seared into your retina. 

Oh fuck, fuck, FUCK! 

You've never backed out of a story so fast, nor anxiously prayed that Orchid would keep his fucking trap shut. "I had no idea, I swear." 

"One of those stealthy ones?"

"I don't know, Orchid. And keep your karking voice down." you warn him, removing the free story from your suggestions so you can't make the same mistake twice or be recommended more of the same thing in the future. 

"Sorry. Was only trying to warn you that your screen was visible to everyone. What you do and don't read isn't my business, just like what I read isn't yours." Orchid replies with a casual, little shrug. "I ain't gonna tell anyone, Arcadia." he promises.

Your voice comes out in a low, threatening purr as you tell him you're going to keep him to his word. "They'll find you fertilizing the rest of the flowerbed if I find out you have, Orchid." 

While the threat doesn't have quite the intended effect, you're grateful that Orchid is taking you seriously, in his own way… "Hah, I suppose that'd make for a fitting end. Name myself after a flower, get turned into flower-food when I die..." He smiles, finding humor in the threat while promising again that he really won't tell anyone. 

"I hope I'll make really beautiful flowers when I die." 

It's a little strange, almost unnerving to you, that the possibility of dying doesn't seem to phase him. That he's making jokes about it, almost. You suddenly feel worried about him. "Orchid-"

You're stopped with a single, apologetic smile. "Sorry, sorry. I know that all sounds pretty morbid, Arcadia. But I've made my peace with it and I don't bar myself from joking about it either, really. Now, I don't want to die, of course, but I'm not really afraid to, either." 

You suppose that's fair, with some internal reasoning. "I guess that makes sense. Everyone has different thoughts about the inevitable end of a lifeform's conscious existence. What it means for them, to them. What happens to us after. Or, what we hope for, like…" you add with a nod to Orchid, "making beautiful flowers from… whatever's left." 

There's a partial, amused chuckle from Commander Wolffe, who's recently returned to the hill following another perimeter sweep, and has been listening to you and Orchid for the last few moments. The time is now 14:50, according to a fleeting glance at the top of your datapad. "More of your philosophical ponderings, Arcadia?" And care to explain why you threatened to bury one of his men in a flowerbed, while you're at it? 

(Thank the Maker he didn't hear what sort of novel Orchid had seen you open, at least. Something so raunchy it opened right into the act of self-pleasure and cultivation within the very first paragraphs.)

"Ah, y'know me, Commander," Orchid says dismissively, taking the heat off of you to explain away the situation, "just saying the usual banthashit that makes Soapsuds threaten to wash my mouth out. Arcadia got a little more creative than that, though!" 

Commander Wolffe sighs, looking both surprised and unsurprised. Yes he certainly does 'say the usual banthashit', but to turn it into a discussion about death and what comes after, that's an unusual thing to follow up with. (Usually it's more lectures about discipline and reading the room.)

"Well, Arcadia has a knack for that." 

Strange how only this morning, you and the commander were little more than perfect strangers, and by midday, you were calling the other by name in private. And now, here in the early afternoon, you had briefly shared lunch together, and still called each other by name, only now permitted - promised, even - to do so in the presence of others. 

"Oh yeah, I saw the art," Orchid replies with a strangely wolfish grin, "good stuff. Looked like worship."

The words "The fuck do you mean by that?" find themselves clawing out of your throat before you stop and consider the tone, the snappy weight of them. Trying to cover your self-perceived blunder, you're now laughing nervously, tugging a hand through your hair in a harsh movement. "Maker alive there's something really weird about this planet, everyone's saying all this sage shit and acting so damn… strangely today!" 

You've fooled Orchid. But you haven't fooled his commanding officer. Not entirely. 

"Oh I just meant-"

"I would agree, Arcadia…" Wolffe begins with a thoughtful look as he regards a chrono for the time - now squarely 14:55 - and chews over something on his mind before speaking with brevity, "Today has been anything but normal. Strange planet. Strange plants and animals…" Strange lack of communication from his General, you figure he must want to say. This is a little out of character for the Force-wielder to behave in some of the ways he has today; by and large delaying the 104th battalion for most of a full day that could otherwise be spent traveling just for a day in the sun. 

All for what? has been asked, secretly, over and over. By yourself. By the flint-gray Commander, of course. By Sinker and Boost, too. 

Why are we here on Little Archossi? Where is Plo Koon? 

And how will you keep a newly forged friendship of sorts from fizzling out after today? … Are you even friends? Have you misread your interactions of the day so far, believing there's something special? With you, for you? 

You're not special. 

You're just Arcadia.

Taking note of your silence, or perhaps a troubled expression, Orchid asks you what's wrong. "You look deep in thought. Something on your mind?"

"Just hoping General Plo returns or contacts us at 15:00 when he said we should likely hear from him." you offer after a shrug. It's true enough at least. Unless he's run into trouble, or has been delayed, there should be little reason that you would not see the Jedi as he concludes his search of the area beyond the decaying structure. 

"Same here," Orchid replies, nodding to his Commander in a more respectful manner than he would when talking to Suds, "you too, I reckon, sir?" The singular, short exhale is Orchid's answer. "Oh, right, stupid question; of course you are, Commander." he offers almost apologetically, face darkening with embarrassment. 

"I had to watch, helpless, inside that damaged escape pod, as my General and my brothers fought off those battle droids who were killing the survivors… Desperately trying to keep that distress beacon active, all because he had the hope someone would come for us." 

You had finished adding some of the deep blue to the fluffy black curls of his hair that served as the highlights while Wolffe recounted for you, in more detail than what had been supplied by Tack, the Battle of Abregado. 

And the way he was telling you, it seemed to suggest something to you. Something you could only guess at. 

"Well… given that you're sitting here next to me, telling me this story, obviously General Plo was right. Did you…?" The words "not fully believe that at the time?" hang in the air between you, unspoken. He'll know. Smart and capable man that he is, the seasoned leader of the 104th battalion will figure you out. 

"I wasn't sure." Wolffe admits with a grim expression, ripping up blades of grass by the fistful the longer he talks. "We were promised, pledged to, that we were not expendable to General Plo. Now perhaps General Skywalker and Commander Tano still would have come to scout the wreckage even if it wasn't for General Plo, because they seem to truly care for their men from the look of things… But we had no way of knowing at the time, for sure." 

A tender hand is laid on his crossed leg, just for a moment, a silent offer of comfort for him. 

He takes a deep breath before speaking in a hushed voice. "Given that I am sitting here, next to you as you said, Arcadia… ultimately, the General was right." 

"I'm glad he was." you whisper back, just louder than the slow, smooth sweep of the coloring pencils in your hand against the page.

Stirring up such emotions to the surface will take a toll on him the longer you draw out the conversation, so you were sure to move on to something else. Something innocuous, something ordinary. 

Does he ever play games to pass the time?

The chrono has barely ticked over to 15:00 when the Commander's comlink trills. A sound famous for being rather startling at times is for once one of the most wonderful sounds in all the galaxy: it promises that the Kel Dor is safe.

"There are more dwellings further from the decaying structure that Comet saw from the clearing. I believe I found one of the settlements, but I will be returning to the battalion instead of making contact."

"Why is that, General?" Commander Wolffe wonders, brow furrowed with confusion. 

"I believe the inhabitants of Little Archossi are nocturnal… and should I wake them simply trying to make contact, I'm afraid I would appear to them as a threat instead." the Jedi explains haltingly, voice sort of rumbling down the mic and audio sensors. You wonder, with how cautious his tone is, if he is near the settlement right now as he speaks. "I will be back shortly… and will explain in more detail."

"Understood, sir." Commander Wolffe dismisses himself from the communication, just short of breathing a sigh of relief. The General is safe and will return in a timely manner, then. He can allow himself to loosen his guard. 

Orchid is a little more crude in his relief as he thanks the Maker before excusing himself. Being soldiers, you rationalize that their language is going to be more colorful than most peoples', but Orchid… he's something else. 

"How the fuck do you even spell that?" you wonder to yourself with a shake of your head, "And where does he find all these words?" 

"It's best you don't ask." Wolffe cautions you. "Only inspires him to find more." The look he supplies you with suggests more than just speaking from experience. Don't encourage him. I don't need more headaches on the day we're meant to be relaxing, apparently.

"I'll be sure not to." you promise with a soft laugh and a teasing smile. "Best not to invite trouble in the General's absence." 

Best not to invite trouble, or give the impression of it, at every available opportunity. 

Wolffe, still as a sentinel beside you, greets the Kel Dor as he extracts himself from the forest and reenters the clearing. "Welcome back General." 

You imagine you're being regarded with a great deal of confusion, an unexpected sight beside the Clone Commander. "...Arcadia, is something the matter?" To be greeted by his men is one thing, a normal and familiar occurrence, but this time one of the crew is present. Has something happened in his absence? Given your talents in risk assessment, have you found anything that would be a cause for concern? 

"Just keeping him company," you explain, indicating Commander Wolffe beside you with a little gesture of your free hand, "while I sketch one of the Dinocaeruleus anthos flowers. For Tack." You felt you'd rested your wrist long enough when you made the offer to the researcher Clone, concerned for the device when he complained it was growing hot after hours without end in direct sunlight. 

Offering to draw this strange little flower with blue silky petals, as accurately as you could to the best of your abilities, once again made for a pleasant distraction for the one-oh-fourth's battle-hardened leader. (He'll actually stay put so long as you're working on something, it appears.)

"That's very kind of you, Arcadia." Plo compliments you deservedly. "Making Tack a botanical illustration to reference at a future opportunity… Most helpful." 

"Feeling rather spoiled." Tack chuckles agreeably. "An Arcadia artwork of my very own." 

Stifling a sigh for the time being, you instead laugh softly and opt for teasing him in return. "Consider yourself lucky that I was bored and wanted to kill some time while waiting for General Plo to return. Can't expect these every time, Tack." 

"Oh, I would never," Tack promises, "that'd be pretty karkin' entitled of me…" Swallowing his sudden nervousness, Tack recomposed himself after a beat. "It's good to see you've returned safely, General Plo." 

The Kel Dor before the three of you dips his head in a gesture of polite agreement, mirroring the relief felt by the collective trio with gratitude of his own from the way his shoulders slacken ever so gently, and the time he takes to answer. "Thank you, Commander Wolffe and young Tack, both. I am relieved that no trouble found you all while I was away, and that I was able to return safely as well."

You don't need the use of the Force to sense the budding concern within the men to your left and right. "Oh? Did you run into trouble, General?" you ask, verbalizing the wonder shared by all. 

With a simple shake, whatever fears swelling within you are abated, for the moment. "Not the sort you assume, no. There was something nearly troubling about the settlement when I came upon it; the stillness was unexpected. I presumed the inhabitants would be going about their lives up to my approach, expecting them to flee or fight if I made myself known, should I have made contact… But there was nothing. The entire place was still, deep in slumber."

And waking them up would have been unwise, Wolffe paraphrases the relayed message sent in earlier, connecting all pieces of the explanation. "Came back to avoid giving the impression of a threat in the event they found you." 

General Plo nods before further adding he also sensed a strange presence in the Force in the settlement; he wants to wait closer to nightfall to potentially return, rather than leave. "I understand you must have your concerns, all of you… Especially yours, young Tack. But there was something strange… a flutter in the Force in that settlement that I cannot ignore." 

His mere acknowledgement of the concern is a slight comfort for the moment. But why had Tack in particular been singled out? He had reacted the least between Commander Wolffe and yourself to the addressal of strange presences and the notion to remain on Little Archossi as night fell, rather than leave before the full setting of the sun as was originally planned. 

The tight squeeze of the Commander's jaw had you concerned for the eventual ache to come following such an action; not to mention the sort of subconscious, nonverbal signals commonly associated with it were not entirely positive. Subtle insights to Wolffe's way of thinking. 

The General wants to stay here past dark, now? A flutter in the Force could be anything, mean anything, or worse yet, nothing. Is the Force known for playing tricks on those it bestows its blessings, could this be a test? (But why would the General be tested here, now, on this likely uncharted planet untouched by war?)

Tack had given no such signs on the other hand, apart from now with the stammer in his voice. "G-General, I'm not certain what you mean…?" 

Later, Plo Koon promises, he'll likely take the time to explain how he sensed the worries Tack has about this situation; for now, it appears he's getting a feel for the opinions of his commanding officer, Wolffe, and a member of the crew with training in risk analysis, you, first. "Are there any reasons you believe we need to consider that sway in favor of leaving before nightfall?" 

Someone, between the two of you, gives a long-suffering sigh first. 

"The safety of the Clones, and crew, sir." Short, to-the-point, and continual in his concern for his brothers, Commander Wolffe makes a rather obvious and deliberate point to communicate his reasoning. 

And you did not miss the way his eyes, the brilliant silver and the rich vandyke, had raked you from head to toe as 'and crew' parted his lips. It wasn't a simple glance, or meeting your eye, but he eyed you up and down. (Why? Why had he done that?)

Since Wolffe has expressed concern for Master Plo's forces so succinctly, you opt to voice your concerns stirred up by the Kel Dor's observations he's reported back with. 

"I'm not wild about the idea of looking like a threat to the people living on Little Archossi… There are so many of us. We had no real way of making contact before taking the gunships here this morning, and… I hate to make assumptions, but I have concerns we could vastly outnumber the inhabitants of the settlement and not know it. If I were them… I think I would be concerned about so many people suddenly showing up on my planet by the time I've woken up." 

Two sides of the same credit, you and Commander Wolffe. In the end, the concern of overall safety, and the concern of appearing safe have been taken into account. 

If he explains his findings to everyone else in the clearing, Plo Koon thinks inviting everyone to decide for themselves is the best option. It is officially the start of the late afternoon here on Little Archossi, and there is still time to plan for an encounter.

Those who wish to return to the Triumphant will leave before the sun begins to set. 

With the will of the Force, and a healthy dosage of luck, any potential large-scale interaction between the soldiers of the Republic and the people on this forested planet will go off without a hitch.

Don't have a fic taglist form for the time being. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[FFF Masterlist] [Series Masterlist] [TCW Masterlist]

[Early Morning] [Midday] [Here] [Evening] [Deep Night] [Golden Dawn part 1]

[Golden Dawn part 2]

[onwriting-hrarby]

On endings—The last sentence

Hello, it’s been a while! After finishing Rotten Judgement I have been taking a little break with writing my novel and also reading quite a lot, but RJ has still been on my mind because I wanted to talk about endings. Or, more specifically, about the last sentence. I would also like to do a literary analysis on the last chapter (how I built the pace for it), but I feel like that would be giving too much into the readers’ readings and feelings. Yet, if you would like me to talk about building a pace (with examples), please tell me so.

In this little post, we will talk about:

The importance of an ending

How does an ending need to be?

When does an ending appear?

Motifs and themes

On changing endings—because of the people

Again, bare in mind that this is not "writing advice" per se, only my impressions as a professional in the sector :) also, tagging @writeblrsupport in case they find it interesting and want to share!

First things first—The importance of an ending

People say that while writing it’s important that you get a nice first sentence, gripping, that keeps the reader into the page. It’s not that I disagree, but I do believe that we have bubbled up this notion of “the first sentence” a little too much: it is not the first thing the reader reads. Nowadays, the first thing we might read about a book can be the review on bookstagram, and if we are in the bookshop, we might choose the book for its cover or typo—to end up reading the claim or the synopsis. This notion of the first sentence might have worked when the novels were inside newspaper, written by chapters, and the chapters needed to be gripping and auto conclusive. Of course, if the first sentence is all that—all the better.

But I consider the ending to be more, if not equally important as the first sentence. Colum McCann says something along the lines that our last sentence will be the first sentence of the imagination of the reader—of what’s further than the ending. It will be the first thing the reader is left when they finish the book.

Yet—don’t make it senseless. The ending has to be coherent with the story. Ending the last sentence with a plot twist or a shock just for the sake of it—for the “remembering” effect—is not the way to go. Mainly, because the reader will frown, take themselves out of the narration completely, and get angry. (I am speaking with knowledge: I said no to a translation because it had this problem.)

How does the ending need to be?

I guess, for me (as always, I speak from personal experience), the endings should be gripping, coherent, and satisfying. I’ve talked about coherence, but let me explain a little about gripping: When I say gripping, I don’t mean that it’s full of tension, or shocking, or leaves you breathless. That, if your story demands it, too. What I mean is that the whole path to the ending (the so-called “resolution of conflict”) should have your reader seated the whole time, wanting to know how it ends. There are different narrations and paces to this: crime, mysteries, fantasy or sci-fi generally have a faster path to this resolution of conflict, and their ending tends to be, yes, gripping (in its original sense). Other narratives, like realism, or character-based books, or non-fiction, might have a slower one. That is good, too, because as I’ve said, most of all the ending should be coherent. But still, the book should not fall out of the reader’s hands. If it does, then there’s a problem with the pace. Generally, you won’t help that with the ending, but sometimes you can do it. The reader wants to finish the book. We don’t have to sacrifice, to my view, any coherence, any intention of us as writers, or any literary quality, but we have to be aware of the grippiness of our text to balance it out to have a satisfying ending.

What do I mean by satisfying? Again, that it’s not confusing, that it makes sense, that doesn’t make the reader feel like they didn’t follow. The reader is not dumb—will never be—so you should treat him with respect. (The readers are more intelligent than the authors, and they pick up on things you wouldn’t have even thought about in your prose.) The satisfaction is that final breath when we close the book, this exhilarating feeling, that “good, very good” that we mutter after the last page. I believe we should strive to leave our readers with this kind of satisfaction.

In summary: if you have a bad beginning, you have a whole novel to make up for it; if you have a good novel but a bad ending, the thing falls into pieces at the last sentence.

When does the ending appear?

This is as easy as to answer Where do people get inspiration from—there isn’t one answer, everyone has their way. To me, though, it works best if I know where the story is going to go from the beginning.

When I start writing the story, it’s almost 6 months after I started thinking about it—not purposefully, but during walks, or talking with friends, some dialogues and scenes occur to me, and I also get to know the characters better. Because I do a character-based narrative, their motifs are the main things I need to have clear when I plot a story. I usually think about the beginning: what is the starting point for the story (which can or cannot be the same for the characters if I’m doing in media res, etc), with which scene do I want to begin? Then, normally, I will get glimpses of possible scenes that go in the middle: an important point for them, maybe the climax. But I always, ALWAYS get the ending before finishing the story. And normally I think about the ending—more like, it comes to me—before I begin writing the story altogether.

Why? Again, Colum McCann says something that pinpoints exactly the answer I would give to you (but better): if a story is a plane and the ending is a destination, we don’t need to know the exact destination, but we need to know that the plane will land.

I leave myself a chance to change the ending if I’m writing the story and I see that the ending is going to change according to what the story needs, but it rarely happens, because I tail my stories around the ending, and not the beginning or the characters. Let’s say that I’m writing a romance: if I tail the story around the beginning (the characters meet), then I have a confusing plot because there are just a million ways in which the characters can evolve from that. If I tail the story around the characters (one is cute, the other one is grumpy, they fall in love) then I have all feelings and a plot, but I don’t think I have a motif or different layers. If I tail it around the ending (the characters get together despite their differences) suddenly I have a message.

I am being a little reductionist here, but you get the gist. Again, this works for me, but it cannot work for you at all! It all depends on what you want from your story, in the end.

Motifs and themes

I feel like endings should be conclusive in the novel, too. That is: in a way, they should summarize the motif of what you want the reader to stay with in your proposal. I don’t know if I succeed with every single ending of mine, but I think I have grown the capacity of doing this kind of summarizing without being too obvious.

The book shouldn’t be a thesis, but it should put something on the table. It can be a secret pact between you and the reader, but it has to lay motifs and themes that the reader can observe and think for themselves. But if your book is too obvious about the theme or your intention as an author, the reader will get bored easily because, again, the reader is not dumb and doesn’t want to have a lecture on it. Laying out your motifs and themes has to be subtle enough for the reader to choose whatever they want to fixate on, and ending with this motif reverberating has to be subtle enough to avoid boredom but clear enough so that the reader knows they have understood and they are with you.

Following the previous point about changing endings, and to go back to the intention of this little post, I had to change my last sentence completely.

Mind you, I had the last sentence written 6 months before writing the ending! Oh my! I had it scribbled in one of my notebooks, the page marked with a dog ear so that I wouldn’t forget I had to end like this. But—stuff happened, that stuff being that my main motif of the story changed.

It wasn’t planned, and it wasn’t suddenly: the story had always revolved around love as a constant effort and life as a constant struggle. Because my main intention was to talk about the first one (and it was what I had people lured into my writing in the first place), six months before the ending I had my first sentence, which was: 

“And hands in hands, because they know that love is never the end of any story, they stare at each other and promise wordlessly to keep walking down this path—the one that is bumpy, full of trial and error. And swear to keep on trying, incessantly, every day, together.”

But I wrote that when I was in Chapter 10 (of 21) of the story, so of course, I should have given myself the space to change it. I was stubborn, and I didn’t, so when I started crafting the last three chapters and doing revisions of the other 18, I realized—late, and almost because I had to—that the story didn’t revolve around the love, but about the life. The way I had plotted the last chapter of Rotten Judgement, even, was all about a political revolution! There wasn’t love in it! Or not romantic love per se. There was a birth at home! Now it’s all clear to me, but please imagine me having to write a whole seating 30-page chapter and coming to the end and… it doesn’t work.

What happened, then? What had I done wrong?

Historia, the character who’s giving birth in the bathtub, was the character who was setting the pace of the chapter, which transitioned between the birth and the demonstration. The pace of the birth was very clear to me, and every stage signalled a change in pacing overall (I won’t say much here, this belongs to the post about the last chapter and pace per se). When Historia’s son finally comes out of the womb, it serves as a little epilogue to the fast pace of the chapter. It all stops, and then the son is born.

Mikasa and Eren, the couple, help Historia with the birth of the son. Tired but exhilarated, he kinda proposes to her, and thus the first last sentence should have been born. But ending with the love of the pair would be to neglect that even if the city was burning there was a new birth, a possibility of doing things right. So, it was clear to me that I had to end the ending with Historia grabbing her son for the first time, and the son opening the eyes to this chaotic, political life—so, my second theme.

What I did was to move the couple’s scene and first last sentence to this slow pace.

The ending to that 200k story and 30 last pages of revolution ended up like this, thus:

Amidst tearful cries in the bathroom, they [Eren and Mikasa] giggle against each other desperately. And hands in hands, because they know that love is never the end of any story, they stare at each other and promise wordlessly to keep walking down this path—the one that is bumpy, full of trial and error. And swear to keep on trying, incessantly, every day, together. From out the window, the sirens hustle closer and closer to the building now. Smoke columns rise from the avenue and the Parliament. Some screams penetrate the walls of the apartment, but the air is filled with hope and the anticipation of their friends—surely—coming back. The new mother [Historia] crouches forward to the midwife, takes the head of the newborn with care, then his whole little body, red and moving, watches his little mouth open and his closed eyes and the mother puts their baby against her chest. Little Marco falls silent for a moment as if he was taking in the arduous work of being alive.

On changing endings—because of the people

On a last note, I wanted to address writers who change the ending because they see that the fans want something specific, or that the public is not taking the leading up to the ending well. Some mentions: High School Musical The Musical The Series (they changed the ending of the main pair because they saw that another ship was very famous and the main character wasn’t in the show anymore; it resulted in a shit-show of character development); Sherlock (resulted in the worst 3rd season ever); Game of Thrones (don’t let me get started); Sally Rooney’s Beautiful world, where are you (an epilogue set in the pandemic which reads like an adding that she can’t even have written); How I met your mother (oh please), and much more.

Don’t do it—don’t! You know what the story needs. You know what you want to tell. Don’t let anyone influence you. Be Succession. End when you need to end, and with what makes sense for the story to end with.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday!

What's a worldbuilding detail from your setting that you haven't talked about as much as you'd like? Ramble at me, please :D

Heya! Sorry for letting this sit for a while and not even answering it on a Wednesday but I'm doing it now!

I don't talk about the Alium holidays I've come up with yet. It's incomplete, but here's what I have so far:

The first publication of the power database.

Alium is very science-centric, so celebrating the publication of the first time their powers were scientifically categorized would be exciting. I feel like the main way to celebrate would just be wearing a pin with your power level or something, though some people would have gatherings with friends and family.

The diagnosis of Carlton Wanser, first Inutilia.

The Inutilia is the name given to Alii who don't develop powers. Given this is such a divisive sociopolitical topic, it depends on the individual how they view this day.

Some people treat it as a day of shame - the first time an Alii was documented to have no powers. The first "useless" Alii.

Others treat it as a day of celebration - some of Inutil pride, some as a call for action.

Others still mourn Carlton, as no one knows what became of him.

The day of Sector unity.

There are 10 Sectors in Alium that primarily get along with each other. I believe the day the ten governments made an agreement centuries ago to have completely civil commerce, trading, cooperation in general, etc between them would be worth celebrating.

I also have a general outline for a ten-month calendar, each month generally being named for each Sector, with an extra week at the end to celebrate the unity of the Sectors. There are parades, days off work (mostly), and other ways to celebrate. Most get together with friends from different Sectors to celebrate.

Pride/Awareness for those with “defective” powers and Inutilia

Each power has their own flag (no I haven't designed them yet but I will) and I think Inutilia and Alii with "defective" powers (those with powers below the Level-1 in the database; for example, a healer who cannot heal, just sense illness) would each design their own flag for a week for them. Disease Detection Awareness Week, for example. Nothing usually comes out of this other than a small chance of feeling a sense of belonging among these Alii who otherwise feel isolated.

That's what I have! Thanks for the ask!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[klinefelterrible]

I believe noone would ever read it but it's okay

So I saw this picture on instagram today and took it literally, so here's my little fic to this idea

Human: so yeah this is nice

God 1: I Am God

God 2: Me Too

Human: I decided I will plant some potatoes here on this beautiful land

God 3: You should have a wolf here, wolves are old school

God 1: God 3’s got a point

God 2: What you need is a woman, son

God 3: We can give him a wolf and a woman

God 1: Not enough mana

God 3: human gotta pray, eh?

Human: So, uh– Dear gods please I'm begging you I need a woman and a wolf and I am so thankful you're surrounding me on this gorgeous island and stuff

God 2: *sigh* and it started so well

God 3: I think I can handle a wolf with this, hold on

God 1: It would be easier if you got him a pup

God 3: good point

God 1: Maybe some mana will be enough for a woman

God 2: maybe for a not very smart woman, yes

God 1: you said a woman, not a smart woman

Human: what's the difference?

God 2: *sign* I'm beginning to think he's not very smart either

God 3: would you guys stop yapping for a second, I need to focus

Human: So anyway you guys do you and I will be there planting potatoes

God 2: maybe you could chant some praising songs for us

God 1: that would be helpful

God 3: yeah, sing us something with a lot of Pleases and Thank Yous

Human: How about Dua Lipa’s “pretty please”?

God 3: now that's a fine piece of ass

God 2: one of my best creations so far

God 3: I thought it was God 1’s work

God 1: I was on vacation that day

God 2: On vacation… Hey, we don't feel any difference!

Human: I haven't started yet!

God 2: Any time!

God 3: So anyway what are the chances of her lookalike here?

God 2: Fuck if I know

God 1: oh, he started. I can feel it.

God 3: now if we all concentrate we could have a Dua Lipa lookalike here

God 2: yeah but I'd better store that mana and make her, you know, better in harvesting

God 3: what for?

God 2: she is supposed to be of help to our human

God 1: …and he is in his farming mode now, I get it. Okay

God 3: Okay I guess

God 2: we can always get him two

God 3: We did it once with Xena and she's not into dudes

God 2: it was your idea to make her that meaty

God 3: bless me I guess

God 1: I think let's keep it with one Dua Lipa lookalike and let's make her into farming and shit

God 3: watch it

God 2: remember how we made Dalilah into shit?

God 1: fair point

Human: you guys are okay?

God 2: why?

Human: it's starting to rain

God 4: yeah you wanted your potatoes to grow without water?

God 3: there he is

God 2: make it stop

God 1: you're spending our precious mana

God 4: I thought we were here to help our human

God 2: We're saving mana for Dua Lipa’s lookalike

God 4: that is good stuff, boys

Human: thank you!

God 4: don't mention it

God 1: go play with your puppy

God 2: I love puppies. But I love women more

God 4: So how much mana do you guys need for her?

God 3: I think we're just okay, but human needs to crave her more

God 2: yeah, craving is a very important factor here

God 1: wish I knew that sooner

God 2: well who knew

God 1: I should have known

God 4: I know now that we need to cover our own sectors and communicate about that common spots

God 3: yeah about that, are we ready for human to reproduce?

God 4: I like it when humans reproduce

God 1: pervert

God 4: au contraire! More humans, more begs for rain! I like it when they sing happily in the rain

God 2: some of them can sing, damn

God 1: do I hear a little pride here?

God 2: maybe a little, yes

God 3: I hope for the show. You guys remember Sodom?

God 1: I loved that city

God 2: what a waste

God 4: I was on holidays there back then

God 3: I practically lived there for years

God 1: Girls there knew how to sing, damn it

God 4: and they had boobs!

God 2: I cannot not be proud of myself, I mean after all what else should I feel

God 3: yeah, yeah, sure, go ahead

God 4: I believe what we need here is some lust

God 5: yeah so I was here all the time but all I heard was the potatoes

God 2: good friend for all the boobs

God 5: I mean I don't try anything else

God 3: anyway did you see the puppy yet?

God 5: i did. nice work!

God 3: So we will give him Dua Lipa's lookalike

God 5: damn right you will, shiiit

God 2: do we need to worry

God 5: no need to worry. He'll just need you sometimes more

God 1: And that's a good thing, yes?

God 5: balance and harmony, boys

Human: I planted a few rows!

God 3: good for you! Now pray for the bountiful harvest

Human: okay

God 2: I'm ready for some action

God 3: Should we all help you somehow

God 5: I already am helping

God 1: don't make it messy I'm begging you

God 5: I like it messy

God 4: yeah but we mean like dick in the ass messy, not spontaneous combustions messy

God 5: our human craves some of it

God 1: oh hell no

God 2: so what

God 3: no problem

God 4: yeah it's nothing, you guys remember Sodom?

God 5: I loved that place

God 1: yeah it was okay

God 3: and the goats were happy, too. And the mares

God 4: that one stable boy was happy, too

God 5: I see you looking at me

God 4: just don't make it too messy, okay

God 5: I will not

God 2: okay guys make me some space

God 1: i love it when it happens

God 3: I think we might have some mana left for, uh

God 1: It would probably be better if we left human craving for dick in the ass for some other time

God 3: I, uh, wanted to ask what animal would be the best for this

God 5: dragons are always the best

God 2: he's got a point

God 1: I like dragons

God 4: How it's supposed to help our human

God 1: we'll, uh

God 3: I'll make it rather sweet and loving

God 2: Dua Lipa will be like that exactly

God 5: oh and more

God 4: yeah I think we should wait with the human to grow a little more

God 2: you're afraid of sudden fetishism?

God 5: I told you I'm going to be careful

God 1: yes you did tell us but what does it have to do with reality

God 3: good point

God 2: She's almost ready

God 4: yeah naked woman in high heels ready for some serious action in dirt

God 5: let's not get over our heads okay, she's a star and they need nice shoes.

God 2: that's how it's supposed to be

God 1: I like them hookers in heels

God 4: you practically invented them

God 2: and potatoes too

God 1: Are you guys jealous

God 5: look, she plays with the puppy!

God 4: how cute!

God 3: she isn't very busty, is she

God 2: have you seen her thighs, though?

God 4: back in the day I saw thighs like these smashing coconuts

God 5: Ahhh good old days of Sodom again

God 4: what happened back then anyways

God 3: taxes

God 2: what an idiotic idea

God 1: I understand your point of view

God 2: I sense there's a “but” there somewhere

God 1: we tax human with prayers right?

God 5: I see you missed a point here

God 3: completely missed a point

God 4: I see her on all fours closing to our unsuspecting human

God 5: don't look at me like that, I didn't do anything

God 3: in case of emergency, break glass and unleash the dragon

God 1: what glass

God 2: what dragon

God 3: I'm working on it

God 4: oh look, she likes him

God 5: la di dah

God 1: she is going to devour him

God 2: I did a good job

God 3: she is making a good job

God 5: you don't need to thank me for the show

God 4: damn she's into it

God 5: yeah that's the best part

God 6: so you guys are having fun yet?

God 2: we do

God 5: and so is human

God 6: the human is fearless, you guys don't worry?

God 4: worry about what

God 6: he won't need you anymore

Human: oh god oh my god ohhhh godddd

God 6: oh I see

God 2: and he has some potatoes

God 1: And a wolf

God 6: …and what a nice setup this is!

Gods: yeah we did a good job

Human: OH YEAH

God 5: and human woman does even better job

God 6: stop bragging, it's not very nice

God 4: if he prays for her to have bigger boobs, I'm giving them to her

God 1: he won't even notice their existence

God 3: Wanna bet what his next prayer will be about?

Wolf pup: woof

God 1: good harvest

God 2: Second woman

God 3: a dragon

God 2: can I change mine?

God 4: rain

God 5: he will pray for her to be more kinky. Or grow a dick

God 2: I want to change mine into second woman with a dick

God 3: maybe he wants some chickens and eggs, I don't know

God 6: wait a minute I think he said something

Human: would you like to meet our friends?

Girl: who are they?

Human: gods who created you, me and everything here

Girl: I don't believe in gods

God 4: ooooh bummer! I can struck her with a thunder if you guys want

God 5: I have a better idea

God 2: what

God 5: I will rewire that brain a little

God 1: and you were surprised we were suspicious about you

God 5: you want my help or not

God 3: how about a dragon now

God 2: I think it's time for this girl with dick now

God 4: good idea

God 1: what are you going to do about her?

God 5: I will just put some more heat into her

God 3: that's not a too bad idea

God 2: and if it doesn't work

God 3: you'll getting that dickgirl here

God 2: fuck yeah

God 4: so tell me what are you going to do

God 5: oh just relax and watch

Girl: I don't believe in gods but I do believe in heads

Human: that's niIIICE oH HoLy ShIT

God 5: and voilà

God 6: you guys now know why it's called ‘french sex’

God 4: because french were so fucked up?

God 3: because french are so fucked up

God 2: Their women are beautiful

God 1: they don't shave armpits

God 6: they don't shave anything

God 4: mana level max, we can create anything we want

God 7: Let's make a dickgirl

God 2: that's my idea

God 7: let's make it two!

God 5: I'll make them in constant heat

God 4: let's give them a power of storytelling

God 3: I'm giving them a dragon too

God 1: so now we have two people, a man obsessed with potatoes and a girl obsessed with blowjobs and a wolf puppy obsessed with, uhm, licking it's balls, and you guys wanna add two horny dickgirls and a dragon here?

God 4: pretty much, yes

God 5: yeah

God 4: I love those exotic households

God 2: And our little human is about to be very happy

God 1: he'll get someone's cock up his ass, right?

God 6: ahh you guys remember Sodom?

God 7: what a waste

God 4: I need a nap

God 5: let's go, give them some time

God 2: it will take me some time to make those two dickgirls

God 5: let me help you

God 2: thanks

God 1: thanks but no thanks?

God 3: stop being so obsessed, he's going to be fine

God 2: oh he will be fine already

God 4: I have an idea

God 5: an olive tree?

God 4: how did you know?

God 7: oh I get it how did he know

God 1: perverts

God 3: HE WILL BE FINE

God 1: yeah, but

God 5: you want him to suffer?

God 1: no

God 5: so stop being such a wimp and leave the human alone, we got this

God 1: meh

God 2: first dickgirl almost ready

God 3: I am going to make some chickens and maybe some pigs and stuff

God 4: no pigs

God 7: yeah you guys remember Sodom?

God 2: what a waste

God 3: oh shit yeah you guys are right

God 6: I believe we need to tame this girl a bit

God 5: after the human shoots the last of his seed, she'll stop

God 6: and how does she know when to stop

God 1: wake me up in two weeks

God 4: sleep well

God 5: my work here is done too

God 2: what about the second dickgirl

God 5: what about her

God 2: are you not giving her some special treats of yours?

God 5: Being a hot dickgirl isn't enough?

God 2: are you kidding me?

God 5: What?

God 3: what's the problem now?

God 2: so one is in constant heat and the other isn't?

God 5: have you heard of netorare

God 6: yeah, we know it from, uh

God 2: Sodom

God 4: I was about to say that

God 5: Dickgirls love it

God 2: Technically it's rape

God 5: technically, shut the fuck up

God 3: We made rape the most common date idea

God 6: no we didn't

God 5: It was me, wasn't it

God 7: Nah, it was that other one

God 8: I wanted it to happen

God 5: great, now you're here too

God 3: We have two chickens now

God 2: And two dickgirls

God 4: and a wolf

God 5: and a pair of humans

God 6: I believe there are potatoes, too

God 8: you know what this island needs?

God 5: a kangaroo

God 2: ah shit

God 3: I'm not doing that

God 4: please don't

God 8: human passed out

God 5: and the girl seems tired

God 8: Easy target for the dickgirls

God 2: wait no

God 5: wait yes

God 4: I can make a thunderstorm any second now

God 5: let's not jump into any extremes, okay? I made dickgirls attracted mostly to human.

God 6: I like your “mostly”.

God 2: yeah it doesn't sound like a lie at all

God 3: Imma go and make some worms and stuff, see you guys later

God 2: don't make a kangaroo

God 3: no worries mate

God 2: you guys are okay now?

God 5: dickgirls have fun

God 8: one is netoraring the other

God 6: I don't think it's alright

God 7: yeah it is alright

God 2: it reminds me of Sodom again

God 7: we didn't have that genetics like we do now

God 4: yeah people were smaller

God 5: that's why we invented Christian Louboutin

God 2: yeah it was a good idea you came around that day

God 5: sheer accident

God 2: so I always say

God 4: I miss Sodom

God 8: the taller dickgirl is on her way to recreate it here

God 7: That's their purpose

God 8: what a waste

God 2: what

God 5: Sodom

God 2: that, yeah

God 4: I have an idea

God 2: just tell me the list

God 5: I can help you with that

God 8: I can help you helping them with that

God 6: are you guys thinking of another Sodom

God 5: fuck yeah

God 7: Let's put Pamela Anderson there

God 6: but please the younger one

God 5: let's put twelve Pamelas Anderson there

God 2: easy guys, we have to start over with one human

God 5: yeah… it was nice to dream

God 8: it is always nice to plan a little

God 6: I need to sleep

God 4: Let's observe human and his three girls here

God 5: more like let's observe three girls and their human sex toy

God 8: i love how you think

God 7: such a waste

God 2: Sodom again?

God 7: yeah

To be continued (maybe)

[bafflement]

Deaged Oz AU - Evacuating Mantle

"NO, James." Tip was very adamant. "If Mantle needs to be evacuated, I will be there to help the others get everybody out. I know you've ordered the evacuation, but there will be people who won't listen to you. I can't let them die!"

"It's too dangerous, Oz. A Schnee in Mantle is asking for trouble and you're still only eleven. What if you get jumped?"

"... if you honestly believe me to be less than the equal of anyone I am likely to face on the streets of Mantle, James, then we need to have a rather different conversation. I am not, in fact, defenceless. Besides, I'll be going with most of team RWBY, Nora, Jaune, Qrow and Oscar. I won't be alone for long enough for them to attempt to snatch me again."

"Salem already grabbed you once!"

"Yes, and yet I got away, thanks in part to the help of others around me. It is far too soon for her to try that again, we both tend to think more in decades than years and it has been barely a month. Besides, I won't be unconscious this time."

"I don't like this, Oz..." Ironwood sounded rather defeated, though. He knew when he'd lost and he also knew that his approval rate was through the floor.

"... I will be alright. I have no desire to die doing this, James... but everybody we can save must be saved, all lives are important."

Ironwood sighed, deeply. "Be aware I will be actively tracking you. At least Weiss will not be joining you, but still... please be careful, my friend."

Tip just nodded, looking grave and left the office without waiting to be dismissed. He glanced at the others, all gathered waiting for the answer and inclined his head. Operation rescue mission was officially a go. He could feel Qrow move into a supporting position beside him and quirked a quick, grateful grin up at him. Qrow always knew when he needed comfort and he certainly did right now.

"So, what's the plan, Pocketsized? Winter and Weiss aren't going, are you planning to disguise yourself, or..."

"Most people have a specific image of what a Schnee resembles, Qrow. I don't quite match that, after all."

"No, but your image has been shared... at least consider that hair dye again?"

Tip pulled a face. *I... don't have it anymore. It was left behind in the rush of leaving Mistral."

Qrow just stared at him, eyes narrow. "Left behind by accident, or deliberately?"

"I dislike having pink hair, Qrow. Besides, that would probably also be an admittance under these circumstances. I could easily find a hooded cloak though?"

"... good enough. But you go nowhere alone, Pocketsized... I mean it. If you're not with me, you're with one of the others. Oscar, too. I suspect both of you will be targets by now."

"... understood. But we really do need to go."

Finding a hooded cloak was easy enough, even if it was brown as opposed to his usual green. The change in color might even be to his benefit, he mused, glancing down at the white shirt and dark pants with something approaching satisfaction. There wasn't so much as a hint of green anywhere on his current clothing, though he still bore both Old Regrets and The Long Memory, there wasn't a chance he'd go out into Mantle unarmed.

Shrugging, the party set out, taking a bullhead down to Mantle and fanning out to try to locate survivors. True to his word, Tip went nowhere alone, always accompanied by at least one other member of the team. He sighed though, there weren't really enough of them to make shadowing him particularly sustainable.

Most of those they found in the partially deserted streets listened to their pleas to evacuate well enough, One or two of the more desperate looking Faunus seemed disinclined to listen to Humans, but when Blake pleaded, they moved quickly enough. All was going well.

Rather too well, considering Qrow's semblance. A rather well appointed building, outside the norm for the sector they were walking, contained an old man who seemed very vaguely familiar. He stared at Tip through rheumy blue eyes and only shook his head.

"Sir, we need to to move. Atlas is coming down and it will fall on you if you don't leave!"

"Hello, Winter. Tell your father he owes me a drink, would you?" The old man chuckled. "What need do the dead have to move?"

Tip stared at him, even as Jaune tried to reason with him too.

"Prism, too? Why this is certainly a good welcome."

"... Prism? That's dad's name, I... who are you?"

But Tip had worked it out, wincing. "You'd be Hawke Winchester, correct? What are you doing down here? Your son would be devastated if you died..."

"You're dead, little Winter. Seeing you here means I must be, too..."

"I... no, sir. I'm Tip. Wintertip Pine. I'm not... you need to move!"

The old man continued to babble until Tip, mindful of their time limit, carefully hit him in the head with his cane. Nora lifted the unconscious body back to their bullhead and lay him gently on one of the couches.

"One of us needs to stay here. Pocketsized? We can probably move quicker without you, you've done enough."

"And if he wakes and thinks I'm a ghost again?"

"You're the adult, technically, Tip. Work it out!"