#the color scheme is questionable but thank you i take no critic

[magnuficentwo]

I saw your takes on Rhys, and I was interested in hearing more! Specifically where you said, "Especially in regards to the characters of color that interact with him." I've heard some critiques about Rhys but not so much on this side of things. Do you only notice this in fanmade content, or would you say it bleeds into the games as well?

On a more general note, I skimmed through your other Borderlands posts and noticed you have similar criticisms with the game as a whole. Besides the glaringly obvious issues, have you noticed anything else people don't tend to speak about/ignore? Are there more aspects of the Fandom you wish were different? I'd be interested in hearing more of your viewpoints. Thanks :D!

This is such an interesting question anon, thank you so much for indulging my haterisms, but I did get a Little scared seeing just the 'I saw your takes on Rhys' notification because I thought my post might've seeped into his tag which I never want to do. Anyway ! Here's yapping !

To make a VERY long story short, while I notice this phenomenon happening a lot with fandom and the fan-made, it's something that specifically originates from the games themselves, and how it frames both Rhys and the people he interacts with. It bleeds from the source material itself because as I've discussed previously, Borderlands is Hella bigoted when you look at it in angles. Rhys is just a byproduct of the writing decisions.

Rhys Strongfork, as a concept, exists to be an everyman for the highest possible common denominator, and for the borderlands target audience, that character is white and male. Of course we have Fiona as co-protagonist, but Rhys is the character we open the game on and that we follow most closely, because the way he perceives the world around him is New and Exciting and Scary. There's nothing wrong with that inherently— that's how a lot of protagonist in the telltale / "choose your own adventure" genre are because they kind of Have to be. The character's purpose is not to grow on their own, it's to act as a vessel for the player to discover this world... But ☝️ I also find that to be a coward's way out, and only Barely an excuse for the way Rhys develops through the narrative. Which brings me, specifically, to my point about the way nonwhite characters interact with him, in which they don't so much talk to *him* as they do the audience.

Like, before my hyperfixated ass brings Katagawa jr into this (trust me It'll come later), we can just look at the way how he interacts with people in tales. Yvette immediately comes to mind here: Her interactions with him are strained in the few times she comes back around the story, and in one of them you can literally choose to let her die. Yvette barely has any screentime and when she does, she's portrayed in a specifically antagonistic light from the get-go, even when she hasn't done anything evil yet (Like man why'd you call her a leech Immediately), with barely any time to show any other sides of her that aren't completely optional on the player's part... Anyway, on an unrelated note, every director in the making of Tftbl was white, and so were most of the writers on the project. ANOTHER unrelated fact is that up until that point in the Tales' story, Yvette is the only Specifically Black woman in the Borderlands franchise to hold a major role. This is a pattern that Will continue.

Another example that I can think of right from the dome is Both Sasha and Fiona, but ESPECIALLY Sasha. This starts entering the realm of where both the game and the fandom get stuff very wrong. In Tales, Fiona is the co-protagonist. She's Pandoran. How are introduced to her from Rhys' point of view ? "You no-class scheming PANDORAN scum". Fiona and Rhys have a lot of fun banter don't get me wrong, their initial interaction starts on the wrong foot for several factors INTENDED in the story. It still however rubs me the wrong way when you have your white protagonist (whom at this point we've become more familiar with as an audience) be shouting at his co-star like the planet she's from influenced her decision to trick him as if it was intrinsic. Because you know. The Weird Baggage that dialogue like that comes with. Rhys gets the stick out of his ass afterwards, but that sentiment is so baked into the narrative and hardly ever confronted, so it feels like it's not a matter of "Perhaps it's bad to say everyone from a particular place is evil" and more just "SOME pandorans are ACKSTUALLY NICE !!!!".

And Sasha......... man, I feel bad for how people treat her. Now, I got into Borderlands many years later so I never got to see the impact TFTBL had during its heyday... but I still hear of the horror stories surrounding these two because people were *so* mad over the existence of two darker skinned women both being close to the main character, ESPECIALLY Sasha. It's not enough to have her delegated to just an optional romance you can choose to pursue as Rhys, because people refuse to even acknowledge that part of her existence at all. In her very first scene she's mostly quiet, and when she does speak she gets brushed off. When she calls out Rhys for working with Hyperion despite all the horrors they cause constantly, Rhys blows her off on most options. She constantly gets either interrupted or demeaned by this fucking guy until he has his change of heart. She can't even be like Remotely sassy without being seen as a bitch by both the fandom and the very narrative !! It sucks !! It's intentional !!

And now, here's time for me to yap about Katagawa jr and the way he's treated................Except I already did that in a different post, so I'll just give you the gist of it. Katagawa is one of two whole characters explicitly coded to be asian in the franchise, with the other one being Professor Nakayama. Both of these characters are obsessed with a (white) (male) CEO in a way that is portrayed to be creepy and unrequited, both going to huge extents to get their attention and both are killed unceremoniously as "punishment". Katagawa's corporation, Maliwan, is portrayed to be More Evil than others despite the fact that they're all in the same capitalist system. His obsession with Rhys is characterised mostly through an offhand quote by the writer of that arc in a way that doesn't leave a lot of room for interpretation. You can put the pieces together and arrive to the conclusion why this isn't great and why it pisses me off so much.

What I'm saying is, There's a deliberate choice being made here with how Rhys is presented. Rhys is an anomaly in the story structure because he's acting as the central character that the world of borderlands revolves around, so every other supporting character just acts as a crutch until he does something despite them all being way more interesting than him. They're only not protagonists because he's white and that means More Gamer want to buy Funny Videogame. It sucks and it makes me mad, but that doesn't mean my word is gospel or that you have to agree with me. At the end of the day It Ony a Movie and it doesn't matter 🫶

As for your second question (which I now realise I've neglected I'm Sorry), I just really do wish the racism was more talked about in general. People tend to act like it's something entirely unrelated, but like, this is a game set in A Space Desert with "Savages" that you have to kill indiscriminately in order to find a Big Treasure. It Is Orientalist, and to pretend like there's no correlation there is both willingly ignorant and silly of one's part. Aside from that I wish more people would do some worldbuilding... not even for the previous reason but because I think the xenobiology in this game is so sick and I want others to get insane with me about it. Maybe get more bandit apologism too but that's another thing for a different day.

Such a fun ask anon ! Hope this provided some insight in my view points <3

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Wimchlat

Very similar art this week, which kind of can't be helped because the entry does specifically say that it looks like a wolf with spots. There's some range here, though.

If you're not sure what this is about, you can find an explanation and previous posts here: https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

The entry artists are working from this week can be found here:

And if you want to participate in the next round, here's that entry:

...huh. I didn't realize which one was up next until I went looking for the link just now. That'll be an interesting artistic experience, I'm sure.

(Pursuant to some previous speculation on the "-bael" morpheme in the Dikebael and Dirubael, now I'm wondering if the "-at" morpheme in our randomly-generated words might have something to do with bodily waste.)

Anyway, this week's art is below the cut:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) notes that their version ended up quite fluffy, which I have also noted and enjoyed. For some additional detail, which includes some interesting animal facts, click on the linked post.

@doodlebethel (link to post here) is joining us for the first time, and has drawn an excellent not-quite-a-wolf. I feel the depiction of it aggressively guarding that sparkly sand is very well-executed.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has made the decision that the urine in question solidifies into a jewel basically immediately, which I think raises a lot of interesting questions (complimentary). Also, thank you for providing alt text.

@citrvsdrake (link to post here) observes that the creature hiding its urine sounds like cat behavior, so they leaned a little harder towards the leopard side than the wolf one. I think it came out well; an animal that is both relatively wolf-shaped and clearly feline has an interesting look to it.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) decided to base theirs on the maned wolf, which I think came out really well in this art style. I also like the decision to make the spots look like eyes -- together with the color scheme and the long limbs, it really has a fascinating (and slightly sinister?) effect. I kind of love this design, really. I want to know more about this creature. (Also, thank you for including alt text.)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) also decided to mix it up a bit animal-wise, and also landed on the maned wolf as an interesting non-wolf wolf option. It's also got ocelot features rather than leopard. I just really like the vibes here -- something about this art style is very charming to me. I'm not an art critic, so I can't elaborate on that. I would recommend clicking on the linked post, which has more information and also some tags I find quite funny.

On to the Aberdeen Bestiary!

... or not, actually. This is one of the folios missing from that manuscript, so the text actually came from Bodley MS 764, and we'll be taking the illustration from the Ashmole Bestiary.

That illustration doesn't help a whole lot, though it does also lean more feline, so we can get something there -- but I saw a number of comments saying that people had recognized it in the process of drawing, so it's probably no surprise that this is the lynx.

No, I don't know why people thought its urine turned into gemstones. Ask Pliny the Elder. (The supposed gemstone in question is called ligurius, by the way.)

I also don't know why the lynx in the Ashmole illustration appears to be having a staring contest with a ram... hold on, let me see something...

... okay, bestiary.ca doesn't have anything that explains that. It might just be an artistic decision. Things I did learn from bestiary.ca just now, though:

Ovid (yes, that Ovid) specified that the lynx's urine solidifies on contact with air, which means that those interesting questions (mostly along the lines of what is in that stuff) raised by CheapSweets's drawing are definitely still on the table.

Thomas of Cantimpre also says that the lynx has the hilarious combination of comic-book-style x-ray vision and a total inability to remember anything it's not currently looking at. So it can see through walls but just immediately forgets what it saw. I love that.

[mochinomnoms]

I’m not sure but I thought I might as well ask

is Yev based on Yzma from Emperors New Groove? Some of the reasons I thought this was due to his hairstyle (high ponytail) looking similar to one of Yzmas hairstyles where her black hair is pointed out or represents the lavender feather(?)/accessory , the purple makeup suiting her equally purple color scheme, and the mention of the “secret” lab which is like Yzmas lab in the palace. Also (this might be wrong) I think Quispe (his last name) is Quechua which is a language spoken in different South American countries such as Peru (which Emperors New Groove is based/set in).

Even if not I think Pomefiore is a great dorm for Yzma since she has been known to be stylish in the movie changing into several different outfits + the original concept of the movie was going to make her hate the sun since she blames it on making her age faster (snuff out the light was going to be her villains solo I recommend searching it on YouTube)

sorry for the rant I just really love Emperors New Groove, one of my favorite Disney movies

YES HE IS THANK YOU FOR NOTICE THE USE OF QUECHUA I STUDIED INCA FOR A CLASS AND WANTED TO REFERENCE THEM AND CORRECT!!! YZMA FITS BEAUTIFULLY IN POMEFIORE!!!!!

WAAHAHAHAHAHA I WILL ADD HIS FUN FACTS BELOW AS A REWARD!!!

Yev Quispe

“The new Housewarden of Pomefiore. A remarkably beautiful young man with skills rivaling the most experienced apothecaries. He demands attention and respect from all due to his status as a young heir, lest you become an unwilling subject in his experiments.”

Birthday: December 24th (Capricorn)

Age: 20

Height: 180 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: Kusco Mountains

Family: Unnamed younger brother

Other Names(s): Bluebottle (Floyd)

Grade: Junior

Class: C (No. 18)

Club: Science Club

Best Subject: Potions

Hobbies: Experiments

Pet Peeves: Mislabeling

Favorite Food: Ceviche

Least Favorite Food: Spinach Empanadas

Talent: Transformation spells

Appearance

Yev is a tall, lean man with tanned skin and dark brown eyes. He has dark purple layered hair that goes below his shoulders, with long side swept bangs framing his face. His usual hairstyle has him wearing his hair in a French braid, with his bangs and two pieces of hair curled below his chin. His hair is tied with a thick blue hair tie. 

He wears blue, turquoise earrings and is always seen wearing purple eyeshadow, dark eyeliner, and wine colored lipstick. He is often wearing a polite smile and critical gaze.

Personality

Yev is a confident, haughty young man who is self-assured in his looks and skills. He is well known to dislike being questioned by his underclassmen, holding very few in either equal standing or high-regards. Because of this, he is quick to point out others’ flaws when others point out his own shortcomings, known to be overly harsh when doing so. Over the years, this has made him overly critical of others to the point that he is condescending to most, especially to those that aren’t of his same social status.

Despite this, he is renowned for his skills as an upcoming potionologist, sought out by both cosmetic and pharmaceutical scientists for his unique skills in transformation potions and spells. Surprisingly, when compared to his predecessor, Yev has no issue getting dirty and cluttered when experimenting in his makeshift laboratory and enjoys making new discoveries, sharing them with others. He also has no qualms in involving others in his tests, allowing other students to take his potions and note down their reactions rather than testing them himself.

[kaleido-write]

Leasebound: artsyle or art choices

I've seen the latest comment and wanted to add information and context my credentials on the matter are being a multidisciplinary art student , I've done pretty much any type of art you can think about going from glass painting to kabuki theater.

Leo here this absolute king was eloquent and very nice in his questions wich i absolutely love , he showed a level of respect rusty isn't capable of

And here is rusty reply

1.

We start terribly wrong here , clothing *is* about personality, it is about someone preferences , likes , dislikes ect . Its here to tell us about the characters

Such as , well any characters in media their fashion style is representation of who they are , and the same goes irl .

Let's use the howl house as an exemple because it's a really great dos and donts made by a women so hopefully rusty will swallow better the criticism ! Dana uses fashion to show the evolution of her character and their personality , reducing fashion as unnecessary is a tell that rusty doesn't know anything about character design nor how to make a story that matters and make sense

And what do i mean by matters ? Because it can sound harsh and mean I admit it , i mean something that tell us something, not just a place holder to say she is relevant nor good because she made a comic . Because you can do something for a long time and still be bad at it . Time isn't always an indicator of something value

2.

Color schemes are completely natural in artwork ??? What is she talking about ??

Color schemes are so so important to ensure the color coordination of your panels , to ensure everything fits together without being such different color it will give a headache , color schemes are there to tell stories to and her complete lack of acknowledgement towards it tells me everything i need to know about her as an artist

She doesnt know anything about the theories nor is her limited art knowledge truly worked on , she simply started drawing one day and never bothered to study anything art related

3.

Its actually quite simple to do , all that work you find monstrous rusty is actually the before work you do , its the work you do to get to know your own characters and how you will tell your story , and it's quite easy to do , you simply lack the imagination and understanding of the importance of forework

4.

No rusty nobody is insulting your skills , Leo was simply asking about your stylistic choices , yk what you claim is an art style? Because there's a difference between the 2 if you didn't knew wich i know you don't.

5.

Rusty , you made a comic on the basis that lesbians don't have enough representation. How can you in your right mind complain over people asking if you will represent them too , how stuck up do you have to be really .

Also many many 1 person comics have theses little details , details that are not concise , like Jaden tattoo !! But apparently that tattoo and shez tattoo aren't too annoying to draw uh ?

You can pick and chose what you want to represent but don't belittle people for asking why you're representation is a very selective way of portraying lesbians , representation that at its core is the lesbians you would be attracted to nobody is blind enough to not realize you do that , especially with how much every main character slowly start to look like each other .

6.

Actually rusty you did break art design rules and comic making rules to actually make the comic go better and faster . You just don't know them so obviously you can't know that you broke them because you're too ignorant to actually study art properly

In conclusion no one (again) discussed rusty actual artstyle wich involve the way she draws , that's the artstyle

The art choices are wich color to use , the design choices ect , so thank you for anyone to actually take the time to learn what an artstyle is and maybe yall will stop bitching and moaning about a fight that doesn't exist .

Also special shout out to Sarah 🫶 hope you doing good too

Unfortunately yet again rusty and her over inflated ego took over any sense she may have and decided to just be absolutely mean and awful once more

Sarah only showed to you that a color palette is used *everywhere* (i will use neutral pronouns but if Sarah wish for me to correct the text with the appropriate pronouns I will) they came forward to show her and she had the audacity to complain ??? They didn't latch onto it they simply wanted to help you improve

It is a mistake rusty , you're actively making art mistakes because you don't know shit about art . You keep having the sheer audacity when many people who actually study art tell you you're wrong and making mistakes .

Yikes since you can't insult him you decided to misgender him ? You're right rusty you're not stupid you're pathetic cruel and mean and can't differentiate hate from genuine comments for wich reason ? Oh wait I know ! Because everyone that came forward with good tips and advice you see it as hate , you have no distinction of it because if someone doesn't comfort you into your self idealized version of yourself you feel too challenged and the idea of growing to be better is terrifying to grown ass women like you .

You seem to be incredibly bitter over making your comic for free , and to think of the hatedom as genuine interest when no rusty, me personally I simply take great joy in dissecting your work and seeing every mistakes you make , because you're a terribly mean person that has no idea what respect is and can't be respectful to people if they're not your bootlicker , i pity your friends and fans , they must live in fear of saying the wrong thing and make you mad

Cola we all blocked you because you too have no idea what you're talking about you too can't even tell us what is an artstyle from art choices

A great exemple of representation and simplified artwork is "high class homo" on webtoon with the main lesbian princess having a prosthetic leg or again "the cursed princess club" wich is amazing and has a simplified artstyle

What we are critiquing are art choices , please you all should go take art classes and learn a fraction of what I know

But rusty , Leo was good faith , Sarah was good faith , we are all good faith you simply chose to see it as attacks because of your over inflated ego , please go to therapy you need it more than me , learn that other people have feelings ok ?

No , it is a hatedom rusty , I do not in the slightest enjoy your work riddled with mistakes and hatred for anyone that doesn't conform to your narrow definition of how people should be.

If you're losing money then..stop it ? Stop complaining about losing money , if you have health issues too you should put that all first instead of a comic .

[starburstfloat]

Let's Talk Innuendos and Queer Subtext: TXT's Poppin' Star Lyrics Analysis

One of the joys of making progress in my Korean language journey has been the ability to analyze lyrics more critically by dissecting tone, word choice, or rhyme schemes that would have otherwise slipped by me a few years ago. And as someone who has a deep love for literary analysis and kpop, there's an unparalleled joy in getting to bridge the two together. I'm happy I have this space to do that. So without further ado, let's take a look at TXT's Poppin' Star from their first full-length album, The Dream Chapter: Magic (thank you nika for requesting this!).

This song feels like a sonic representation of this memefied image:

It's literally bubblegum pop at its finest. It sounds sparkly, cute, uplifting, and deceptively adorable, and anyone who has seen the choreography can attest to watching the video with a ridiculous smile on their face.

I could give high praise endlessly about this underrated early TXT Bside, but I wanted to prioritize the lyrics for this post! We're going to talk about the superficial meaning of the song before we dissect some of the more suggestive, metaphorical elements. Heads up I'll be mentioning sexual innuendos, so if that's not your cup of tea then please kindly leave.

My goal is to get you to see that, at the very least, this song is not just about eating candy. Whether or not we agree on the queer subtext is another debate, but I'm hoping this analysis post can be a lesson on interpreting figurative language and grasping inneundos.

Whenever I do analysis, I always start with the surface level face-value of what's being presented, and then I try to peel the layers and discern the underlying themes or suggested connotations based on context clues. Usually I leave out the initial face-value in my posts because it's something so obvious that it feels contradictory to present it. But it feels relevant to include for Poppin' Star. So what is the face-value meaning of the song when we look at the lyrics as a whole?

On the surface, this song appears to be about a young male protagonist who experiences a burst of emotions - dizzying warmth, sweetness, and a clouded brain - after he eats a variety of flavored candies. He states that he is not satisfied with the burst of flavor he's experiencing - now that he knows this intense feeling, he's craving more.

cr. color coded lyrics (though I'm cross referencing multiple translations and using my own knowledge of individual words and tonal conjugations to understand the song)

It doesn't take much of an analytical eye to catch the innuendo presented in Poppin' Star. What exactly is an innuendo? An innuendo is an allusive hint to something typically sexual. The keyword here is hint - it's something you pick up on based on subtly provocative language. Critics could argue that "your brain must be in the gutter" if you find sexual context where there is supposedly none. I'd say blaming the observer for a sexual interpretation is disrespectful to the art in question. Inneundos are meant to be spotted and discussed - they have the potential to heighten the art and unveil a greater message. Just because something is sexual does not mean it is bad.

Now that we have that cleared, it's pertinent to reflect on the surface value of the lyrics in contrast to the glaring inneundo jumping out at the audience. Let's look at the opening lyrics together:

One look at the lyrics, and you'll raise your eyebrows and go, "Really? You sampled a mouthful of candy and can't stop talking about how you're tingling all over, feel dizzy, and are melting from the sweetness?" The song's lyrics and language is quite figurative: the audience is guided to see beyond the literal meaning.

If we break down the individual feelings our protagonist shares, it sounds reminiscient of a first kiss or sexual experience. Considering how strongly the lyrics center on oral pleasure (oral as in the literal sense of the mouth), the rightfully assummed metaphor here is kissing. Let's look at all the instances where the song connects pleasure to the mouth:

별가루 가득 물면 느껴지는 불꽃놀이일까? / (Is this) fireworks that I feel when I bite a whole mouthful of stardust?

입 안을 채운 콕콕 따끔한 이 느낌은 또 / This tingling feeling that has filled my mouth

혀끝에 건전지 / A battery at the tip of my tongue

Our protagonist talks extensively about the pleasure in his mouth in correlation to feeling dizzy, warm, fuzzy, electrified, and excited - all feelings heavily associated with heightened sexual experiences, and notably kissing.

A striking detail is the fact that our protagonist is not alone during the story - he's actively talking to another person, meaning he's not literally eating candy by himself and getting an explosive sugar rush as the superficial interpretation insinuates. We notice this from the opening line which calls to a direct "you":

짜릿한 정전기 you’re popping star / Electrifying static, you're popping star.

Not only is this a reference to the title, making it an important detail to note, but it's also inviting the audience into acknowledging the relevant prescence of another character, some unnamed you. He goes on to say:

머리가 띵하게 기분 좋은 my love / Making my head feel dizzy, that good feeling, my love

He's directly saying "my love," so this person is clearly special to him. This person is his popping star - someone who evokes all of these explosive, tingling feelings.

The chorus is riddled with suggestive language: "This isn't enough / I need something stronger / A chew full of lemon, lime, orange, yeah / I need more, more, more / A stronger popping / A chew full of lemon, lime, orange, yeah"

Our protagonist is craving more flavor as he seeks a pleasure high. My interpretation is that the other character is wearing flavored chaptstick, perhaps fruit-flavored or candy-flavored, and our protagonist wants to taste more of the character's lips. Another interpretation is that they're both chewing on flavored gum, and when they kiss, the flavors blend together in a satisfying burst. Both feel plausible to me. The chorus suggests a kiss through the explosive repetition of surprised "oh's" that the members sing. It's hard to explain without hearing it, so skip to 0:48 in the song to catch what I mean. The explosive instrumental paired with the high-pitched oh's feels representative of an epiphany, or at least a heightened emotional state.

Perhaps one of the most glaringly suggestive parts of the song is Beomgyu's line after the first chorus, where he says:

잠깐 쉬어갈 땐 slime vacation / When (I) take a short break, slime vacation

This implies he's taking a break from exchanging slime, or saliva, with the aforementioned "you". Keep in mind that Korean sentences don't always need an explicit subject, so it's unclear whether Beomgyu is saying "When I take a short break" or "When we take a short break". However, later in the song, during a critical moment that I'll get to shortly, Yeonjun explicitly mentions the pronoun 우리 (we/us) which means we can assume this whole candy-tasting fiasco is, at the very least, a pleasure-seeking high that our protagonist is doing with someone by his side.

The kissing metaphor is more strongly suggested when Taehyun says:

어제 했던 건 벌써 지루해 / The things that (I did/were done) yesterday are already boring

더 더 더 강한 popping이 필요해 / I need a stronger popping

which tells me the song is self-aware enough to recognize it's not just about eating candy. Why would yesterday's candy be described as "the things that were done yesterday"? I also find it interesting that he's using the verb 지루하다 instead of 심심하다 when mentioning boredom. Both of these verbs mean "to be bored", but 심심하다 refers to boredom through a lack of action, whereas 지루하다 has the connotation of being bored by something because you've been doing it for a prolonged time; as in, you're getting physically tired of it. So, Taehyun is saying that the stuff he did yesterday has become repetitive and tiring, and he's now seeking a stronger high. Very suggestive language.

There's a line from Heuningkai that really stands out towards the latter half of the song. He goes:

가끔은 조금 위험해도 돼 / Sometimes it can be a little dangerous

엄마 몰래 자물쇠를 열어봐 / Open the lock without my mom knowing

The conjugation here is very interesting!! He uses the 아/어도 되다 pattern at the end of the adjective for "dangerous", which is a conjugation used to give permission for something. So, rather than him stating the fact that it's dangerous, he's giving permission to the speaker to be a little dangerous. It's a subtle nod at him approving risky behavior, so perhaps a better translation would be "it's alright if sometimes it's a bit dangerous".

"Open the lock" reminds me of Soobin's verse in Sugar Rush Ride:

, which I interpret as a more blatantly sexual inneundo for losing one's virginity. I don't think Poppin Star implies more than kissing, but asking someone to open your lock without your mom knowing, and engaging in risky behavior, appears symbolic to doing something you wouldn't want your mom to see, so at the very least it's suggestive language.

This interpretation aligns with the direct album overview provided by Bighit, which states that "The Dream Chapter: MAGIC tells the story of 'magical adventures' that boys encounter together with their friends [...] the boys share their transformation, confusion and exploding emotions that arise during their transition to adolescence." Notice that the official statement itself says that the album centers on a boy and his friends as they transition into adolescence. Interesting.

I'd be happy to leave the analysis there and say, "See? The song is clearly an innuendo", but then the writers toss in the gayest shit during the last third of the song that forces the audience to pause and reinterpret.

Yeonjun and Taehyun sing the following lines:

이건 어쩌면 나라에서 허락한 / Maybe this is something that the country has allowed

우리끼리만 숨겨둔 유일한 / Something we have kept hidden just among us

자 아무에게나 허락된 게 아냐 / Alright, it's not allowed to just anyone

입안 가득 터뜨려 / Burst a mouthful

The verb used here is 허락하다 which means to allow, permit, or approve. Talking about what your country allows in connotation to something you've kept hidden among the two of you…feels queer-coded. Especially when the rest of the song has been dedicated to pursuing a thrill from "my love", a pursuit which they acknowledge is intimately private given the line "without my mom knowing". Why bring up what's allowed in your country in a song that centers on a boy seeking pleasure? The last line is odd too - it's conjugated as a command, so our protagonist is telling us, the audience, that we should pop a mouthful of the candy too. In connection to the line above it, it's implied that he knows popping the candy aka kissing his love is not allowed for everyone, but he's encouraging others to try. Adding to the intrigue is the fact that they repeat the last two lines again, but change the command to 입안 가득 터뜨려 봐 which is a less forceful command and more like "Give it a try".

If the song truly were just about candy, talking about what your country allows and who is allowed to do it feels very out of place and strange. This, paired with the striking fixation on oral pleasure makes me believe the song is about a boy kissing his friend, and it's been a fun, exciting little secret between the two of them.

It doesn't feel like an exaggeration to find queer subtext here. If you're an avid TXT fan, you'll know their songs are very queer-coded, from 0x1=lovesong having the most blatant thematic connection (I still regularly think about Soobin's "I can't go to heaven, I don't belong there" line) alongside Sugar Rush Ride, which suggests we "swallow the sugar rush"....sir, swallow what exactly??!

I hope this could spark your interest and see the lyrics from a new perspective. Sorry not sorry if this burst your innocent perception of the song...like I said, it sounds deceptively adorable 😂 let me know your thoughts and thanks for reading!

[udretlnea]

The Exciting Chronicles of The Shapeshifter & The Eccentric Gentleman

I / II (You're here) / III / IV / V

As a child, you would wait And watch from far away But you always knew that you'd be the one That work while they all play

In youth, you'd lay Awake at night and scheme Of all the things that you would change But it was just a dream

(Warriors, Imagine Dragons)

Words: 2.2k

Weeks would pass since that day. The shapeshifter, who would later be named Mercy, was trained rigorously to utilize their powers constructively; simultaneously, their abilities would grow stronger with some exercises from Numbers Four, Five, and Seven. 

Mercy would quit trying to romance Number One. Reading his mind after assuming his form the second time made them realize he didn’t desire romance in general. As someone who became him, naturally Mercy would understand and respect his reasons.

After a month and a half of routine, Mercy became skilled and powerful enough to not only shapeshift into beings of unfathomable power, but also act as them too. To a normal person, they wouldn’t be able to tell the real from fake. Ordinarily, this would take at least a year, but thanks to their intervention it accelerated.

Now, Mercy found themselves sitting in a dark room in front of a screen; Number One finished setting up the projector, turned it on and manifested a pointer stick.

One pointed at an image of a red X. “So here’s the situation.”

Mercy nodded. One clicked and the image changed to a colored sketch for a hulking, green figure. It had a horned skull for a head and three eyes with yellow glowing pupils. Its ‘cloak’ was made out of grass, decorated with various flowers they couldn’t be bothered to try to name. The number next to it told them it was 9 feet tall. Compared to it, they were a measly 5 foot 5 inches.

One poked the screen at it. “I need to get an audience with them.”

Mercy vaguely felt their jaw drop. This…this creature-no, entity was surreal; it looked like it leapt out of someone’s amazing imagination and uprooted an entire garden for its cloak. No, cape…? In any case it looked fantastical. Mercy found it pleasant to look at.

(Art from this fic by the_moon_archives on ao3)

“This is Creator #AQ-120, but refer to them as Eldritch for simplicity. Eldy for short.” One retracted the pointer stick and chucked it behind him. “They’ve been at the ‘game’ for long enough that they know enough about the big picture that their knowledge is critical to my objective.”

Mercy raised their hand. “And what is the big picture?”

One grinned. “I’m glad you asked.”

The slide changed to show the words “SAGAU PHENOMENON” in bold black letters. General questions asking about it were scattered throughout. One pointed to the title. “Finding out what is causing this-this anomaly and putting a stop to it once and for all! I’m confident Eldy already knows what’s happening and I suspect something or other is preventing them from acting on it. So I thought I’d gently ask to take the reins from them.”

One summoned the pointer stick back in his hand. “The problem is Eldy is heavily guarded by cultists and priests. Especially this one lunatic: Rex Lapis. He’s not only a highly dedicated and religious god, but also the oldest and most experienced.”

The slide changed to show a tall, handsome man in white robes and a hood; despite that, two branch-like horns tipped with amber hues poked out of it. His face was immaculately sculpted with a nice jawbone and his captivating eyes with amber irises. He looked like a combination of a dragon and a human, the latter moreso.

Mercy stared into those hypnotic eyes. It was almost a crime how handsome he looked. Fortunately, One changed slides and tapped on an image of an elaborate temple. “This is where Eldy is living, or rather staying. The Temple of the Omnipotent Emperor is usually highly guarded 24/7. Only acolytes are allowed to enter, and the place is crawling with guards.” 

Number One sighed. “It would be ideal if we could simply schedule a meeting face-to-face with them, but to them we’ll be perceived as complete strangers with no social standing or power. Furthermore, their guest log is practically full all the time. Scheduling anything with them is an impossibility; we’ll be put on the waitlist if we even try. 

And then One smiled like a devious tactician who already thought of contingencies for their master plan. “Which is why we have to resort to more clever methods to set up a meeting. I present to you: Operation: Masked Fools. You’re the mask and I’m the fool, just to clarify.”

Mercy arched an eyebrow. “What an interesting thing to call it.”

“I know! Sometimes my naming sense is genius,” One laughed lightly. Mercy rolled their eyes with an easy smile. “It’ll be simple. We’ll be pulling a Spiderman: into the spiderverse nigh-end scene; in other words we’ll disguise ourselves as one of the acolytes, avoid unnecessary characters, acquire an audience in private, and leave before anyone notices.”

“You’re missing an awful lot of details. Like, what happens if we run into someone like Rex anyway? Or-or what if Eldy isn’t even there in the first place?” asked Mercy.

“Then we hide our presence, or act natural! And if Eldy isn’t there then we ask around, get our answer, and then teleport to them!” One said without missing a beat.

Mercy frowned. They still weren’t satisfied. “What happens if there’s like, an object that cancels my ability to shapeshift?”

“Then you hide while I find it and shut it down.”

“Well, what if Eldy calls us out while we’re disguised?”

“I…teleport us into a private room, put on my charm, and reassure them we mean no harm!”

“Right, like you have charm in the first place,” snarked Mercy.

One put a hand on his chest and spoke in mock hurt. “How dare you! I’m practically oozing with charm, thank you very much!”

“Ha! Liar! I’ve been in your mind. Would you like me to recount the first time you tried to flirt with a woman?” Mercy cheekily said.

One puffed out his cheeks. He didn’t dare say anything to dignify that statement. Mercy smirked with the energy of a cat that had found the bag of cat food all by itself.

“Let’s just move on,” One said, slightly disgruntled. The slide showed what looked like a throne room. “This is where Eldy is during the day. Normally, there’s a translator by their side to translate what Eldy says; they speak in a different language apparently, but it would be better if we were alone.”

“You’re saying…you know how to speak their language.”

“Yes. Next, we need to make sure that nobody interrupts us. To accomplish that, I’ll set up a mid-level perception filter around the room so that nobody will even think of entering. Think of it as a censor for the mind, one that reassures it that everything is ordinary,” explained One. 

He tapped his forehead with the stick. “Finally, after I get the answers I need, we teleport out, get back home, and review what we learned. Okay! Briefing over.”

One clapped twice and the lights turned on; the projector turned off as well. One stretched his arms. “I suggest you get a nap and catch some sleep while you can, Mercy. We’ll be deploying early in a couple days.”

“Understood.”

///

That night, Mercy laid in bed awake. They stared up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. Memories of today’s briefing stuck with them like a fly caught in a tape trap. It just refused to settle down. They tossed and turned yet nothing seemed to help. Not even counting sheep.

Ugh. Fine. With a defeated groan, they got up and out of their room but not before grabbing a white and black hoodie. Mercy quietly crept down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. They shut it silently, then examined the nightly scene before them.

Before them was a place that was still in its early stages; when Noraa (Number Four’s name, given after earning his trust) offered to shelter them, they accepted with a promise to assist him however they could. Thus, they’d move and attach bricks, turn boulders into rubble, and generally clear the way. A dozen buildings, including a moderately sized castle, served as the homes for those who lived here. 

This was the Kingdom of Delusion and while Noraa could call it home, Mercy…had a ways to go until they felt settled.

With that in mind, they started trekking along the beaten path. Hopefully all of this excess energy will just go away as I walk…

It would have to be a short walk as they didn’t want to stay up too long. A glance upwards showed the moon nearing its peak in the sky. That and the stars shining above made for a rather beautiful sight. Their chest felt light like a balloon as they let their feet guide them towards a circular clearing in the middle.

This was the site for the future town square. Although only hollow shells for buildings were here, at the very least there was a simple fountain. Mercy sat on the smoothened stone. They looked down at the water below. It was as clear as a mirror.

The shapeshifter (Mercy took to calling themselves that after hearing it countless times from them all) examined their appearance. After several days of experimenting with it, they were satisfied with their current form: A round head with a flat chin, light gray medium hair with bangs short enough that a pair of heterochromatic eyes peeked out; the right was orange and the other was blue. 

They had a build that was well-built yet had the right amount of fat (plump was what Number Six described it). Thanks to their head shape they looked androgynous. Overall it felt pleasing to look at.

Mercy shivered. They rubbed their hands to try to warm themselves-

-only to have a coat get wrapped around their shoulders.

Startled, they swiftly turned around to discover a tall young man with short, jade green hair, slightly tanned skin, and light green eyes in his nightwear. He wore a neutral expression as he opened his mouth. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Mercy withdrew into the coat. “...No.”

“Mm,” was all he said. He opened his right hand and a metallic staff manifested. Noraa casually pointed the tip to his left palm and a dotted white beam fired. A cup of milk appeared in his grasp. “Warm milk?”

Mercy stared at it briefly what the f- before moving to take it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” replied Noraa. He made himself another one and sat down right next to them. 

The duo silently drank their cups of warm milk. They savored its warmth and taste as much as they could. Once finished, Noraa took both empty cups and made them disappear via staff. Mercy found themself staring at it. 

It looked ordinary enough with a long jade green handle, but near the tip was where it started looking interesting. Inserted into a slot was an orange cube with a diamond gray panel that had five glowing square lights; the cube was big enough like a decently sized watermelon. There was a small barrel at the top where the beam came out of “Where’d you get that?”

The edges of Noraa’s lips pulled up. “Mm. Built it myself. I was inspired after I saw someone else’s.”

“I see. So you basically wanted a cool magic staff.”

Noraa nodded. “Don’t we all, at some point, want to pick up a stick and pretend to cast spells with it?”

“I guess. It sounds fun.”

“It is…” Noraa agreed. They both looked up at the starry sky. Neither said a word for what felt like hours. Mercy felt as calm and clear as a tranquil pond of water completely untouched, unsoiled. It was a nice moment, one they'd treasure.

They inhaled, savoring the pureness of the air when Noraa said something that caught her off guard.

“Mercy,” he licked his dry lips. “If you don’t mind me asking, what will you do after this?”

Blank. That was their mind. Nothing came up immediately so they said that. Mercy looked at Noraa who was still looking up. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just…I thought I’d bother asking since we know this is a one-time thing. This operation will benefit us, but I realize that it doesn’t benefit you at all. I mean, at least in the long run,” he explained. He looked at them with a face that screamed ‘worry’. It was something he did often; it was how he showed he cared. Mercy teased him by calling him dad. That made him stop doing it, at least for a while.

But back to the topic at hand. “I’m content with helping One at the moment. Once I fulfilled my end of the deal, I figured I’d just go out there and find myself. Do it the tried and true way.”

Noraa tilted his head as he processed that. “Yeah…okay. Valid.”

He covered a yawn. “Well, I’m gonna tell ya this right now: If you ever feel yourself in need of a safe space whenever your journey starts to wear ya down, my door’s always open.”

Mercy blinked. “That’s…actually very sweet of you.��

“Don’t mention it.” Noraa clicked his tongue. He stood up and stretched. “Mm, on that pleasant note, I think I’m gonna hit the hay. The milk’s kicking in. Want a lift?”

“Sure.” Mercy hopped off their seat. Noraa put a hand on their shoulder. Thanks to his staff, they disappeared and reappeared inside his house. As Mercy climbed the stairs they called out one final time. “Good night, grass head.”

“Good night to you too, dingus.”

“Snake eyes.”

“Vegetable.”

“That one didn’t make sense.”

“Good night.” Noraa marched off to bed.

Mercy chuckled quietly before doing the same.

///////////

A/N: @idkfitememate

This is mostly a set-up chapter plus some filler. A part of me thought it was a good idea to give a glimpse into Mercy’s bonds with two of the people who helped them adjust to life outside the mirror; after a month and a half of hands-on training it’s only logical for one to forge such a tight-knit bond.

I hope you enjoyed that slice-of-life bit because next is the exciting part. And I have enough action sequences stockpiled to draw upon. ;)

I've been wanting to write more on SAGAU somehow. This was my plan. The SAGAU Phenomenon is an ongoing anomaly where "countless human souls are prevented from passing peacefully; they are instead reincarnated or transported into Teyvat, totally unprepared for any trials. Depending on what kind of universe they're in, they will either thrive or perish." This is an original thing I came up with.

I wanted to make Mercy have an androgynous appearance since they can literally become anyone, any gender, etc. It makes sense from a design standpoint. As the first character I’ve ever written to hold that status, it felt easier since I had sources to draw upon (looking at you Pidge Voltron & Double Trouble She-ra). For their name, I spun a wheel with four choices: Halcyon, Mercy, Mica, and Blake. No guesses as to which one won.

Reblogs, questions, comments, and critiques are welcome (don’t be shy y’all!)

[chookily]

Chookily's Guide to complimenting art

Introduction

While it is a kind gesture to extend positive input to an artist I would never want anyone to turn positive input into a job. For the most part it's supposed to be fun!!! We should all learn to try not to take it personally if no one compliments our art every now and then there are various reasons why people may not compliment! They could be occupied, they may not know what to say, or it's simply not their personal taste. Remember for the majority it can be challenging to say something beyond "this looks cool!" and some people may even feel self conscious of what to them seems like a lowsy compliment. What's important is to learn to be confident of our own art. As an independent artist I face this dilemma multiple times and i've learnt how to reassure myself and be confident of my own abilities. Don't rely on others solely for positive reinforcement as you're only setting yourself for failure. This is also just a general reminder that you don't need to go to into full detail about artwork. Sometimes giving your general support through a reaction or just saying "This looks cool!" is enough and you should never be afraid to voice your support

Why is it important to compliment art? Other than the rudimentary and obvious reason there is a genuine skill you can train and apply in your own artwork when you compliment artwork. By complimenting artwork you are training yourself to discern and separate specific aspects of a art piece in order to determine the strengths of an artist. THEREFORE you are using critical thinking skills that help with eye training improved vocabulary and a better general grasp of art. (Plus you make the person feel very happy :>>>>) The Basics Don't focus on the bigger picture!

When it comes to analyzing artwork the least thing you want to do is focus too much on the grand scheme of the photo. Unless you're complimenting the certain atmosphere setting how convincing it is and other technical artistic merits it's best to focus on smaller things. Look at the linework look at the color palette or the brushworks or the effects what do you appreciate most about the art piece what do you find most unique and noteable? Once you point these out it can be very easy to give a compliment! Study technical artwork terms and techniques! The best way to learn to compliment art is to immerse yourself and absorb information. Learn the basic terminologies and techniques for art do your homework! Make the criticism personally catered to the artist! What patterns have you noticed in the artist's work? Try to point out the artist's best abilities and their strengths! Let them know what they are best at!! Focus on the mood/atmosphere of the artpiece what emotion does a certain art piece evoke? what does it make you think or feel? Art is a creative exchange of ideas and stories and in doing so you feed that creative energy!

Ask questions about the art piece

Engage yourself with the art piece to familiarize yourself it makes the artist feel special!

Conclusion This is my basic tutorial on how to compliment art, if you have any other advice feel free to share. Otherwise, thank you for reading!

[thekaijudude]

Ok, so as I’m writing this sentence, I just uploaded a speed art of me drawing another form of Milave: Mythical Mode. By the way, I decided not to try and make his base form look more like a pure fusion… for a rather large number of reasons. However, for Mythical Mode, I tried to take the aesthetic I was going for and… really try for it to be comparable to Saga.

Also, if you don’t think this is, at the very least, significantly closer to Saga… I’ll genuinely have some serious, serious questions for you about that one, lmao. For one thing, I’d ask how it’s still not comparable to Saga, and for the other, I’d ask how you think I can possibly fit more detail in.

Plus, seeing as this one took 20 to 30 minutes longer than the base form (which took over 40 minutes to design), I’m probably going to have a panic attack if you don’t think it’s comparable to Saga. So yeah, this paragraph and the one above are just a massive rant about how I’m really, really hoping you think this design is comparable to Saga.

Btw, that's not me trying to make you feel guilty for your opinion, even if that opinion ends up being that it’s still not on the level of Saga’s design. Nor am I trying to get you to lie to me about it.

Anyway, the questions still remain the same, but with an additional question this time: 

—What would this design look like as a suit?

——Where would you rank the suit with this design on a scale of 1 to 30, and where would that be in relation to Saga on said scale?

——Comparing the design’s complexity to Saga, how expensive do you think it would be to produce a suit with this design at the same level of quality as Saga’s suit?

Ah yes this is more like it

But it seems that you actually take your art very seriously tbh so you should actually upload them on your own blog and start your own thing over there as I have artist friends that do the same and actually build their brand cause u definitely can't do it over here since my blog isn't geared towards this tbh

Otherwise,

1) ya as said, this definitely looks more like a pure fusion, otherwise the only criticism is just literally the body proportions itself are wonky af (arms too thick, face looks squashed, why are the eyes tilted so vertically?)

2) 20/30, could definitely do something about the abdomen, and the color scheme is too varied and dosent flow well like Saga's. And ngl, the horns are really squashing the face too much

3) it'll probably actually cost less since as pointed out above, the "collapsing" theme isn't as consistent as Saga's

Thanks for the question!

[twwcs]

Curls™

[forkaround]

Top 3 Personal Favorite BLs of 2022

I would like to start by thanking everyone who replied to my 'What's the appeal of BL?' post. A friend had asked and I felt I hadn't given a satisfying answer but seeing all the reblogs and comments made my heart grow three sizes. These were things I knew to be true. These were things around me, abstract and translucent. And every answer made me so fucking happy. I could see hope. Thank You.

I got into BL this year and I can say, with ease that I've never been happier.

I am a writer. At 15 I had the idea for an epic fantasy. But things changed once I realized the female lead could end up with no one but this other female character. I steeled myself for a difficult battle because since this was gay this won't be published in India. (Back then there was still a ban on homosexuality. Section 377, if anyone's interested. A remnant of the British Raj. Lifted in 2018.) And I told myself this is going to be hard but it's fine. We can publish in the US. Parts of the story take place in the US anyway, and the rest is in another galaxy, so it's okay. We are fine.

At 20, I had an idea for a story where the female lead become the uncrowned Queen of India (Richest, most influential person in the country). Her motto was - Ambition isn't a bad word. I knew this won't be well received since a woman has ambition but I figured it won't be that bad. But I couldn't conceive of this character as anyone but a lesbian. And I knew this would never be made or rather published if she was the main character.

And in rolled the year 2022. I am 23. It's my 24th birthday and I am more excited for something else that's going to happen in two days than I am about it being my birthday and also the day I go to live, by myself, in Germany, miles from where my parents live. I can barely think about that.

All I am thinking about is -

Kinnporsche

This show is fantastic and no one can deny this but to me it's much more than a show because it made me believe there was a market for my stories. That I could do this and the road ahead wasn't as difficult as I'd thought I'd be. And that was because of how much of a phenomenon Kinnporsche was. Still is, idk. It trended worldwide every week. It trended in India every week since Ep 4. Major Indian magazines wrote about it. And for once I thought, maybe India is ready.

Kinnporsche was also a personal phenomenon. I had Sundays blocked off in my Bullet Journal as Kinnporsche Brainrot days. I bought wine for the first time in my life in anticipation of the Vegaspete episode. This show spawned 7 WIPs and added umph to pre-existing projects like the Ambition one I mentioned before. I had the time of my life reading metas and my critical thinking and media analysis skill improved because of this fandom. The fanworks were the first time in my life I've been as invested in the fandom of the fandom as I've been in the media. It glitters like gold. And in-between the changing genres and political scheming, stage blocking and color theory, and tooth rotting fluff and sadomasochism I found hope.

And what Kinnporsche started multiplied with the things to come.

Old Fashion Cupcake

I've mentioned I'm 24. I feel like I'm 40. I am a woman from a conservative country like India. I am queer but that's not the only thing about me that defies norms. And when you are young defying norms is a metric of success. When you go to college, though, things change and everything that you thought were things people were proud of, are suddenly not. All the talk of feminism and equal rights that had people clapping at 15 are all the same things that people snide at you about. It's the same with your family. And once you've finished college. The second that bachelor's degree hits your hand, the first question asked is - When are you going to start searching for a husband? And you've know for a while this is coming. And 25 feels like the end of the world. You can't imagine being 28, 30, 35, 40... And you've not even lived.

Then some guy, 5 years older than you, starts teaching his boss about some anti-aging thing. The boss is just like you, someone who hasn't lived and regrets it and you realize, a thought so powerful that your cry in the middle of the afternoon. There are as many years between me and Nozue as I've lived. It's not exact math but it shocks you down to your every cell. I feel old. But I'm not. Nozue is twice as old as me and I never thought him to be that old. And yes, life still sucks in many ways and yes, the rules of the universe are different for men and women but it also means my life doesn't end at 30. I won't be a haggard, old woman the moment the second hand moves to the next day on my birthday. Even if the world believes it - I don't have to. And it changes me coz all the things I thought I didn't have time for are suddenly things where I have all the time in the world. I have time for cute food. I have time for a cute cat. I have time to make my name. I have time to live.

And then comes something that makes me even more insane than I already am -

Love in the Air

I know. I know. But this is the first time I've seen someone that makes me as insane as Payu does. And I don't mean the department god status or the cool look. I mean the complete balance and grace this guy has. Before him it was Peggy Carter who I thought was just amazing but it was Payu that solidified the idea of why. He defies every expectation put on him. Good guy? No, he has connections to the mafia and can make you vanish with a phone call. Bad guy then? Nope, he is nice to everyone and is a general pleasure to have around. Any bad guy aesthetics are things he is passionate about in a nerdy way. The Cool Guy? Nope, he looks cool sure but it's not his goal to be a cool guy. He wants to be a nice guy. It's being nice that is cool. Nice Guy (derogatory)? Nope, he tests Rain but is pleasantly surprised every time Rain does pass the test. Narcissistic? Nope, he will put his whole pride aside for the man he loves. He will get humiliated for him any day. He is a well adjusted, respected man who is into kink. No tragic backstory, no dark impulses. Just some guy. Who likes kink.

He became dear to me and looking at him is the reason I realized that in order to make my dreams come true I can't just hope and have talent, I need discipline and balance too. But I also need grace to understand others. Enter Parpai. He spotted something wrong with Sky from the few seconds he seemed lost in thought. His priority in the finale was to take care of Sky and not being his hero or being The Hero. He cared about nothing beyond Sky's wellbeing. This is a type of character I can honestly say I've never seen before. The maturity and emotional intelligence shown by Parpai blows me away each time.

The clock struck twelve and I broke my first bottle of Merlot. Here to to an amazing 2023, an insane 2023, a wonderful 2023 and a kind 2023. I end this with love and gratitude, thing that before this year I considered superfluous, especially gratitude. But I've felt more gratitude this year thanks to BLs/GLs/QLs than I thought I was capable off.

What I wanted to do at 15 hasn't changed but now I have hope it can happen and time to make it happen and the balance and grace I would need to help me achieve my 15 year old self's dreams. Coz after a decade of being told it was stupid or unimportant I get to have confidence that all that I felt, things that others didn't agree with are real. And that makes all the difference.

[countessofbiscuit]

Hi! Loved your write up on Republic Intel and GAR special forces.

My question is where do Shadow Clone Troopers fit into your headcanon TOE? The intial backstory for the shadow troopers have them as the brainchild of Armand Isard, future director of Imperial Intelligence, to supplement the dwindling number of ARC'S and Republic Commandos and give Republic Intel its own clones (Though Covert Ops Clones would later be mentioned as belonging to Intel)

But later sources say the Shadow Clones are part of the Special Operations Brigade with no mention of their ties to Republic Intel. For the purposes of my own fic, I had the Shadow Clones transfered to being under SOB as a bueractuc win Palps threw Zeys way ( Palps: I have to play nice with the Jedi till it's time to kill them all Isard, just deal with it )

Anyway curious for your thoughts and keep up the good work!

Hey there! Chuffed to hear someone digested that meta in full :D

The short answer is, shadow troopers don’t fit anywhere in my scheme because I never encountered them organically in media outside Wookieepedia, and they didn’t have enough in-universe “critical mass” for me to give them much consideration.

If I had to give Isard/REPINT a clone Ground Branch, however, I’d just scrub the shadow troopers concept and give them the covert troopers, whom I have spent some time thinking about because yeah, they make a significant appearance in RepComm. As you headcanon, leveraging control of über-elite units is definitely something Palpatine would and could do, given all the institutional power he wields (not just ... weird political sithly influence).

Clone assassins Moz and Olun were trained by Prudii; no Null would have trained crack killers for REPINT and they didn’t do anything unwillingly. For this reason, I’d been imagining them as a hyper-secretive command within CLONINT à la JSOC that got handed to REPINT — the inverse of what you’ve headcanoned, essentially. JFK excised the paramilitary capabilities of the CIA and handed them to the DOD in 1961, which was surprising at the time because it gave the US military power to conduct covert action during peacetime. At the height of the Clone Wars, Palpatine would not have found it difficult to answer anyone who dared ask — or who even knew — why the civilian foreign intel department (the more established organization, with a 100% natborn, non-Jedi leadership) might benefit from being able to take direct, clone-trained, clandestine action should, say, elements of the clone army become compromised. That could obviously get very messy … which is exactly what plays in out in True Colors.

I guess it comes down to what media one wants to privilege in building out their SW bureaucracy, what one’s fic needs, and where you want to place accountability for the internal open season on clone deserters (because it was a lot higher up than Zey, whether or not he was privy to it). At the end of the day, I believe it was Palpatine, behind movable walls of plausible deniability.

Thanks for the ask; I enjoyed chewing over this stuff again and will definitely be thinking about it anew as I finish a current re-read of RepComm.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Mega Leech

Like every cartoon ever made, today's episode is the environmental episode. We all know how high-quality those tend to be, right?

Let's get into the twelfth (chronologically the tenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Mega Leech.

We start off with the shyest girl in Marinette's class, Mylene, mentally preparing herself for a protest with her boyfriend, tough guy with a soft side, Ivan.

Wow, real subtle foreshadowing there, writers.

The thing Mylene and Ivan are protesting is something called the “Oxygen Project” by Mayor Andre Bourgeois, which will supposedly create fresh air for Paris. To be fair, this isn't just a random character trait they slapped onto Mylene like what we've seen with other episodes this season to justify their new Akuma forms. Back in the Season 2 episode “Reverser”, a major plotpoint for the final act was that Andre was about to approve a project that would send trash into space, which Mylene and Ivan were protesting at, before the titular Akuma threatened to send the trash back to the Earth. This show can get weird at times.

Even though they're the only two protesters, Andre still has Officer Roger Raincomprix take them into custody. To his credit, Roger does try to resolve things diplomatically, and is very hesitant to take them to his car (even though they aren't handcuffed and there's no divider), he only does so when his job is threatened by Andre. And let's get the obvious joke out of the way now because there's going to be a lot of moments like this.

Marinette sees the event from her house, and after running late to school resulting in a brief moment of Unfunny Marinette Slapstick, tells the class what's going on. Surprisingly, instead of ignoring the whole situation like every other episode she's been in, Ms. Bustier decides to actually be a teacher for once and calls Roger. She says that she'll supervise their protest while the rest of the class comes with her.

Back at the park, Andre is about to chop a tree down with a chainsaw, but is soon called out by Ms Bustier. Mylene calls out Andre for the obviously not eco-friendly project, but he soon plays an ad for the Oxygen Project.

Huh. So this is how Druidia's canned air business took off.

To be fair, this is actually a funny scene, as it does feel like an over the top commercial you'd see, especially the kind that gets promoted by a politician. Of course, this funny joke is soon followed yet another reminder that Marinette likes Adrien, because the writers assume the audience will forget if they aren't bashed over the head with this knowledge every episode.

And as usual, Adrien ignores Marinette's odd behavior around him, but that's more because he's distracted by the ad, because he was told it was for perfume (did the oxygen line not give away the purpose of the commercial?). Quick question: Why is Gabriel taking part in this? Why is a fashion designer being commissioned to create a bottle for a government-sanctioned project? Does he just invest in random projects and hopes they'll go under so he can akumatize someone? As for Mylene, her classmates are naturally confused as to why she is opposed to this project if it's good for the environment. Her response is something that can ironically be used to criticize this very show when talking about the Oxygen Project.

We then get a moment where, of course, Chloe is the one to say she doesn't care about trees despite having no real prominence in this episode. Seriously, this is the only line she gets and it's to remind the audience how much of an irredeemable monster she is.

Oh my God, Astruc, why don't you just say she's a climate change denier while you're at it, seeing how you already view them as criminals? You clearly want to throw every negative character trait and label at her, don't you? If you're so crazy about hating her, why not make Chloe Captain Planet villain levels of evil?

Marintte points out the obvious flaw in Andre's plan to stop pollution by selling air in plastic bottles that can easily pollute the ocean, which gives the Mayor a lot of bad press, and even though she's the one to say this, Mylene still shames her for ignoring her attempts to get people to protest because she was busy. Yes, the show is seriously trying to blame Marinette for not doing enough to help the environment on top of her various other responsibilities like PROTECTING THE CITY OF PARIS ON A DAILY BASIS.

The families of the kids come to support the protest, and Andre tries to call Gabriel for help, but he basically tells him to figure it out himself, supporting my earlier theory in the process. He transforms into Shadowmoth and sends an Akuma and an Amok to Andre. This transforms him into Malediktator again and and gives him a Sentimonster ally, the titular Mega Leech.

Mega Leech is another example of a Sentimonster with a simple design but a really interesting set of powers. As soon as its summoned, Malediktator jumps into his mouth and summons an army of minature clones of himself (making me wonder why they didn't call the Sentimonster “Micromanager”) to jump into the ears of civilians and control them directly like Plankton in that one episode of SpongeBob. It's a pretty terrifying concept and a really clever extension of Malediktator's mind control powers.

Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and tries fighting off the Malediktator clones, but obviously gets overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. Marinette soon pretends to be possessed by a Malediktator clone to get Mylene to run away while she transforms, once again summoning her Lucky Charm as soon as she meets up with Cat Noir because the animators really want to show off the new suit. She uses the Lucky Charm, a single ice skate, to break the mayoral sash around one of the Malediktator clones and frees the Akuma and Amok, but Mega Leech is still around, along with the brainwashed civilians. She and Cat Noir realize that the Akumas and Amoks must have multiplied when Malediktator cloned himself. Ladybug tells Cat Noir to distract the Malediktator clones (the latter actually acknowledging how he always has to do that)

Ladybug meets up with Mylene in the sewer where she had escaped to earlier, only to find the girl crying. Ladybug offers Mylene the Mouse Miraculous, but she turns her down because of how scared she is. Unlike when they tried to do the same thing by having Zoe doubt herself in “Queen Banana”, this scene makes sense because Mylene has consistently been shown to be a very timid person. It feels much more believable to see this from her. Granted, it's undermined by Ladybug saying that Mylene is already like a superhero because of her protesting for a good cause. I get she's trying to reassure her, but the whole environmental lesson is kind of muddled by saying Marinette doesn't care about the environment because of how busy she was FIGHTING CRIME. Thankfully, the lesson is more about bravery being able to move onward in spite of fear.

Nevertheless, this still motivates Mylene to take the Mouse Miraculous and transforms into Polymouse.

And boy, is it bad. I'm not trying to body shame Mylene here, I'm glad they didn't try and slim her down either, but I'm really not a fan of the color scheme for the suit. With the use of pink and white, it looks way too similar to Pigella.

I get that they were trying to make Mylene look like a mouse, but I'm just really not a fan of the white gloves and boots. They stick out compared to Pigella, where they actually blended in with the color scheme. Then there's the actual suit itself. Why give the suit a hood if you're going to make it yet another skintight jumpsuit? At least with Carapace, they had more armor to help him resemble a turtle, but there's no excuse here. And finally, the hair. How can you take a girl with a very vibrant hairstyle, make it pink when transforming, cover it up, and then call it a day? There are just so many questionable design choices here. I don't think it's as laughably bad as Shadowmoth's suit, but it's really one of the weakest hero suits to be introduced recently.

I'd give my thoughts on how to improve it, but thankfully one of my anons gave their own ideas for a redesign.

Thank you to whoever sent this in. You certainly get character design better than some of the animators on this show, and that's saying a lot given they're supposedly better than the ones at Pixar.

Ladybug gives Polymouse the ice skate to use as a makeshift flail with her weapon, a jump rope, while she fights the Maledikator clones. Polymouse uses her power, Multitude, which turns her into a swarm of miniature clones to take on the horde of Malediktator clones and free the brainwashed civilians. Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir, but big surprise, Cat Noir gets brainwashed by a Malediktator clone. Sure, Polymouse frees him from the control, but I'm surprised Ladybug isn't more used to this happening by now.

Ladybug then gathers several temp heroes to help them out. She gives Kagami the Dragon Miraculous to become Ryuko, Nino the Turtle to become Carapace, Max the Horse to become Pegasus, and she gives back the Bee Miraculous to the super amazing Zoe so she can once again become the world's greatest superhero, Vesperia. There’s a brief joke where Cat Noir rushes to join the team pose, which could be seen as foreshadowing for future events, and if it is, good job, writers.

Pegasus uses his Voyage to teleport Vesperia above Mega Leech, where she uses her Venom on the Sentimonster, while Ryuko uses her Wind Dragon to gather all the scattered Akumas and Amoks freed by Polymouse for Carapace to trap in his Shelter. Ladybug purifies all the Akumas and Amoks, gives Andre a Magical Charm, tells him to rethink the Oxygen Project, and the heroes leave where Ladybug takes back all their Miraculous.

Back at the park, Andre decides to plant more trees in what's obviously not a desperate attempt to save his reputation. He may say he's doing the right thing, but I doubt investors will be happy that the project's being aborted just like that. We get one more hilarious moment where Marinette stutters around Adrien, who soon goes home and gets sent to his room by his father (because we just needed an Angstdrien Depreste scene this episode for some reason), who fidgets with his ring and stares ominously as the episode ends. And in case you live under a rock, this reignited a certain fan theory I'll be talking about in another post.

Overall, I thought this was a pretty decent episode. The environmentalism subplot was pretty standard for episodes like this, with how the antagonist is a rich asshole who doesn't see how he's harming the environment, and gets his mind changed by a hopeful youth. I'm glad Andre isn't Captain Planet villain levels of evil here, though I am glad the episode acknowledges that there's no single solution to stopping pollution, and that there needs to be more unity if we need to help the planet's situation.

While it had a bumpy first act, things really started to get interesting as soon as the action started. Questionable design aside, I thought Polymouse (who didn't even name herself in the episode) had a good first outing with the use of her powers coupled with the use of the Lucky Charm. The first act with Mylene really showcased her character and her courage in the face of adversity well. Part of me kind of wishes we could have seen her interact with Ivan while she was transformed, but then again, he was still brainwashed I think.

The other heroes honestly felt shoehorned in during the climax. I get that they helped gather all the Akumas and Amoks, but there was really no buildup to them appearing like in other episodes with multiple heroes.

The one major problem I have is how the episode tries to blame Marinette for not being as kind as Mylene because she didn't know about the protest, even though, as I have stated multiple times, SHE ROUTINELY SAVES PARIS EVERY EPISODE. I think that counts as saving the planet.

This episode had some flaws, but it was still pretty enjoyable, and it was one of the better episodes this season so far.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: January 28th, 2021 (Part 1)

And we’re back with many more ask answers! Thank you for waiting.

Is lizzie/the main character tripping over a rock a random event in barbecue? or does it require certain choices? i picked the same choices in multiple different playthroughs but ended up with three different outcomes (1. nothing happens 2. liz trips 3. i trip)

Yep! It’s completely random. Just a little moment of life you don’t have control over, haha.

wait just double checking you stated that derek would be another romantic interest you can pursue in step 4 right??? im just asking cuz hes my fav character 

oh wait and btw i was the one that asked the question about derek being in the step 4 just now, and will you have to pay extra for like a dlc or something bc i play the free version rn and i just wanted to check!! 

Yeah, you will eventually be able to romance him, but unfortunately it is a paid DLC. Cove is the only love interest who’s entirely free-to-play. You can  follow our social media for when we giveaways for a chance to win a key for it, though.

i know that y’all said the step 3 dlc and step 4 will be released early 2021, is there any update to that? for example, a rough amount of days/weeks until release? no pressure at all, i’m super excited!! <3 

The Step 3 DLC will be about in maybe two-two and half months or so. Step 4, we’re not entirely sure. Maybe a few months after the Step 3. We don’t want to give set dates until we’re really close to the release since otherwise we wouldn’t be able to 100% guarantee them.

First off love the game. Second I'm a little confused on how the nsfw dlc is gonna work. Because based on some stuff you've said it sounds like a patreon only thing and others make me think it could be an itch/steam thing after the fact? Would you mind clarifying for me 😅. Also if it's a patreon only thing do you need to become one before it's released? 

It’s not going to be on Steam/Itch. The actual game of Our Life is safe for teens with no adult content. Any 18+ stuff we’re releasing is separate bonus content. Right now the only for sure plan is having it available through Patreon. If there’s another hosting site that’s not Steam or Itch that’d be easier for people than Patreon we might consider uploading it there too, but nothing else is set.

If you want the bonus Moment you’d have to join once it’s already out or sometime after the release. Joining now would get you our current rewards, but wouldn’t get you future content that’s coming later.

this is probably an awkward question and i apologize, feel free not to answer, but i just wanted to address the elephant in the room....will step 4 acknowledge covid/2020 world events?? i kind of hope not bc i'd like to just exist in a fictional version of the world where things are happy in this quaint seaside town and the world isn't falling apart, but i'd understand if there are some references to it. just thought i'd ask so i can Prepare if that makes sense

Step 4 isn’t going to include Covid or even reference it. When we set Step 4 in that year we definitely didn’t know there’d be a global pandemic during it. It’s too late to move the timeframe earlier or later, but we’re not going to make Step 4 stressful for anyone because the real world became so much more stressful. The universe of Our Life will just be an even more idealized place than it was before.

hiiiii! i'm really sorry if this is a bother. i was just curious if cove has a canon setting for each step, like is it canon that he stays candid the whole game and is super sporty for instance and the rest are variations? thank you for your time!

None of those settings are canon. They’re all equally valid.

I love the game and Cove so much that I ended up spending most of the holidays playing it. Definitely worth it! Idk if you're taking suggestions/criticisms, but I chose the peach skin tone and seeing it written as "my peach skin" in the game broke immersion for me because I kept thinking it was referring to the fruit instead of my skin color. I think that skin color is most commonly referred to as "fair" but "peachy" or "rosy" would work too if you're looking for a different word 

Thank you for sharing your experience. We’ll change it to “peachy” in the next update!

So I accidentally overwrote a save file with a different one, is there any way I can recover that save? 

Sadly, there isn’t. Not unless you had a backup of the actual save file files in a separate location you can get. I’m really sorry. You can try using the skip feature to quickly speed through the game and get back to where you were though.

Do you try to maintain the color scheme for the clothing throughout the years in Our Life? 

Yes, though in hindsight not as much as I wished I did, haha. It could’ve been a little more cohesive. It was a bit too broad in my opinion.

I noticed that Cliff mentions he wasn’t much older than Cove before finding out he was going to be a father when he finds MC in bed with Cove during Part 3 so doesn’t that Cliff and Kyra were teenage/young parents? 

Yeah, Cliff was nineteen and Kyra was eighteen when Cove was born. They were just a couple of kids.

Does Cove have a favourite holiday? 

It changes depending on the year. Around Step 1 he’s not a huge fan of a lot of holidays because he’s not together with his whole family for them. But once he’s older and Kyra comes around more, he starts appreciating major family holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas more than other holidays because he knows how it feels not to have that. Though summer vacation is of course his most favorite all the time, if that counts as a “holiday”.

I tried to join your patreon but I can’t seem to? The website keeps saying something went wrong and to try again. 

I’m sorry you’re having trouble! I think contacting Patreon support would probably be the best option if the joining process itself is having issues.

How much is it to become a part of your Patreon? I don’t have a lot of money currently but would love to help you out more than just buying the games and dlcs. 

Aw, I appreciate you wanting to support but the Patreon is really optional. You don’t need to push yourself to join if you don’t have extra funds for it. To still answer the question, the tiers are $1, $5, $10, $15, and $20 in USD. Each come with different perks.

I had this idea for a future daughter for the MC and Cove being named "Poppy", after the flowers on their hill~

That’s a really sweet idea! I’m sure Cove would be a fan.

So if you don't mind me asking, how do you get Cove to propose to you in Step 4 and not the other way around? 

I’m afraid that’d be too big of a spoiler to give away before the epilogue’s release, at least in terms of specifics. Generally you’ll just have to be patient and try not to propose first, haha.

will we get to move in with cove in step 4 😮?? or is that a secret 

You can be living together with Cove in Step 4! Though you wouldn’t get to see the place itself. That’s up to your imagination.

Is it bad that I'm completely in love with Cove's dad... What I gotta pay to romance Cliff 😭 (I don't mean as Jamie because that would be wack) 

That’ll cost one million 20 twenty dollar bills, haha. I’m really glad you like him, though sadly we aren’t able to make a separate game where you can romance Cliff. I wish we had enough time to make tons of new scenes/extra stories in the Our Life world, but it just takes too long. Maybe people will make fanworks about it.

—–

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog  

[thereisnochillinsideme]

Chasing Rainbows (Yuri Plisetsky x Reader)

Hi, so I made my first post recently and all of you have already been so so supportive and I thank you so much. This will be my first fic. It’s between Yuri Plisetsky and a female reader who is a pianist and part of the deaf community. i thought it was a very interesting idea when I thought of it and I wanted to share it. i asked a friend of mine who is a member of said community to help me with accuracy because I myself am not part of it. i just wanted to try out writing it. I don’t think I’ve put in anything offensive, but in the beginning, when Lilia asks the reader to play piano for Yuri, Yuri asks how she is supposed to know what she is doing. I don’t think it’s very offensive, but if the community finds it offensive, please let me know and I will take down this post immediately. There are also parts in which I want to imply that the dialogue is in sign language, because I don’t want to write out the character signing each letter. Anything in italics is dialogue in sign language, anything with the regular quotation marks are spoken dialogue, and any thoughts from the characters have just one apostrophe at beginning and end instead of quotations. I figured since Russia is where Yuri and reader are, specifically St. Petersburg, I’ve made her use Russian Sign Language and typed out according to that, though I don’t know if I made any mistakes. Please alert me if I have so I can change it. I also didn’t want to assume anything about physical appearance, so I’ve left hair length, hair color, eye color, and skin tone open to interpretation. I don’t own Yuri, but I own the story and Y/n’s personality. That said, please read and enjoy and give me any feedback! Also, my asks are open and I don’t have too many ideas right now, so please request something! Enjoy!

Yuri Plisetsky wasn’t a very big fan of people.

There wasn’t really much wrong with them, it’s just that they were distracting and he was ultra-focused on reaching his goals.

There were a couple of them that he could stand, like his grandfather and his coaches to a certain degree. But in the grand scheme of things, Yuri Plisetsky decided to mostly stay away from people.

This is why he was so annoyed with his ballet coaches new announcement.

“A live pianist? What for?” Lilia rubbed her temples in exasperation. “You have trouble expressing certain emotions during your performances. Some come naturally, but others don’t. The music is what determines the emotion you’re trying to express, so what better way to help with that then to see the person making that music.”

Yuri groaned. “They’ll just slow me down and make mistakes! The recorded playing is enough for me! I don’t need a person!” Lilia looked at him with an annoyed expression.

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met? ‘If selling my soul is what it takes to win, I’ll give you this body, no holds barred.’ Are you going back on your word? If you’ll really do whatever it takes to win, this should be no problem.”

Yuri looked down and nodded his head. I guess I can find some way to deal with this.

Lilia smiled. “Good, you’ll meet her tomorrow.”

Yuri internally groaned again. Her? It was a girl? Great. She’ll probably fangirl over me so much I won’t get time to practice.

The next morning, Lilia informed him that the pianist would be joining them in the studio shortly, as she would be a bit late. Yuri was hoping she wouldn’t come at all.

But alas, his prayers were unheard when there was a knock at the studio door. Lilia immediately opened it to reveal a girl with h/l, h/c hair, e/c eyes, and a very cold and stoic expression, a red lollipop sticking out of the right side of her mouth. He noticed that strangely, she had gloves on.

The brown leather outlined the shape of her fingers so he had a slight idea of what her hand was like, but he wondered what she was hiding under the soft leather.

After she opened the door, Lilia began doing some strange hand signs that Yuri didn’t recognize. She moved her hands around rapidly, pointing at Yuri a couple times so the girl turned her attention towards him. She peeked out from behind Lilia and raised a gloved hand in greeting, the stoic expression never leaving. He nodded an acknowledgement, wondering if she knew who he was.

When Lilia finished her hand signs, the girl replied with some of her own. She then walked to the sleek black piano in the corner of the room and began running her gloved fingers over the keys. Yuri decided to try and talk to her, see if she was a fangirl.

“Hey,” He called out in her direction. it seemed like she wasn’t listening. All her attention was on the keyboard, running the smooth leather over the ivory keys.

“Hey!” He tried again.

Lilia walked over to him and began watching you as well. “She can’t hear you.”

Yuri was confused.

“What is she, deaf?”

“Yes,” Lilia replied

Yuri was very confused. How were you supposed to play the piano if you couldn’t hear? He couldn’t risk anything right now, he needed to win the Grand Prix!

“How the hell is she supposed to play the piano if she can’t hear?! She’s going to slow me down!! She doesn’t even talk, she just does her weird little hand signs!! i need someone who knows what they’re doing!!”

At this point, the girl had stopped looking at the keys and turned her attention towards Yuri yelling at Lilia. She looked to Lilia, silently questioning with her hands what Yuri had said. Lilia launched into rapid sign language, explaining everything Yuri had said. Yuri watched her expression, expecting her to cry or something. What he wasn’t ready for was her reaction.

As Lilia finished explaining, Yuri waited for the tears to start dripping down her face. Instead though, he heard a clear scoff come from her throat. He looked at her in surprise, hearing a crack as she bit down sharply on her red lollipop. She made your way over to him and grabbed him by the shirt collar with one gloved hand, bringing her face centimeters away from his. “H-hey! Put me down!”He could smell her cherry lollipop on her breath as she opened her mouth. He froze once he heard words streaming out.

“For the record, I can speak, pretty boy. I just don’t prefer to. I can communicate much more effectively through BSL. Yeah, I’m deaf, you got a problem with that? I may not be able to hear, but I can confidently tell you that I am the best pianist you can get around here. You want someone who can hear, don’t you? Someone who ‘knows what they’re doing’.” She said the words in a mocking tone. “No one but me decides whether I play for you or not. And you’ve just showed me that you’re not worth my time. Go settle for some second-rate pianist and have fun prancing around. I have stuff to do.” She dropped him down like a sack of potatoes, signed a quick goodbye to Lilia, and walked to the door.

Before she left, she stopped for a minute and looked back, quickly taking the lollipop out of her mouth. “Stop hiding behind your red.” She said, popping it back in. She walked out without a second glance

Lilia looked at the boy, still frozen, lying on the ground, barely hearing what the girl had said. Lilia pinched the bridge of her nose. “You just lost a very good pianist. I can try to find someone else, but they won’t be as good as her. I hope you realize what you just did. Now get back to practice, we’ll use recordings for today.”

After practice, Yuri began to think of the girl. If she couldn’t hear her own playing, how on earth would she know if she was playing well or not? It was impossible!

As he lay on his bed, he began to think more about the encounter he had with her, the bright red cherry lollipop peeking out of pearly white teeth, the light scent of leather wafting into his nose from the glove holding firmly on his shirt collar, what might have happened had she brought her face… just… a bit… closer…

His face immediately turned red as he covered his face in exasperation. What on earth was he thinking?! Why would he want to do… that… with her of all people?! He had only seen her today and she threatened him and left the studio!

Stop it Yuri. You shouldn’t be thinking such stupid things. You have a Grand Prix to win. You have to beat the piggy.

Lilia knocked on his door. “Come down for dinner. Are you sick? You’re as red as borscht!”

“I’m fine! Be down soon.” Lilia left as Yuri splashed cold water on his face, trying to rid himself of thoughts of you.

The next morning, Lilia brought in a new girl named Katerina. She was a bit of a fangirl, but Yuri figured he could deal with that.

At least she could hear her own playing.

During their practice, Katerina messed up the combinations at least 3 times each, Lilia making them start over every time this happened. By the end, Yuri’s legs felt like jelly and he had yelled at Katerina 7 times. The minute Lilia said she could leave, she ran out the door, hastily grabbing her things. At least now she knew why they called him the Russian Punk.

Yuri looked at Lilia staring critically on him as he lay on the floor, desperately trying to catch his breath.

“Couldn’t you *pant* find *pant* anyone *pant* better?’

“You had that chance before, you just threw it away.”

Yuri groaned, she was still going on about that.

“Just how good can a deaf person be at piano anyways?”

Lilia sighed. “You want to see?”

She pointed at the studio window that overlooked the street. Over on the other side was the girl walking with her lollipop and gloves. Even from here, her usual stoic expression was still visible. It never left her face.

“Follow her. Don’t let her see you. If you don’t take my word on her playing, you’ll have to see it yourself.”

Yuri sighed, but not questioning his instructor, he put on his jacket and walked out into the cold night, following the girl and her red lollipop. He hid in the dark corners they passed so that she couldn’t see him and pulled his jacket over his head, covering his tiger shirt. He shadowed her until they got to a small café, lit up by the string lights outside. He wondered why Lilia would make him follow her to a café, but not one to question his instructor, he crept inside, making sure she couldn’t see him.

The entire café greeted her with a yell. “Y/n!” they said. Y/n. So that’s her name. I never even got to learn it. He thought. He then wondered why he was thinking that because he would never have to use her name. Though she couldn’t hear, Y/n seemed to know they were greeting her and raised a gloved hand to return the gesture, her stoic expression still there during her greeting. He went and sat in a far corner of a café watching the girl with bored eyes. She walked up to the counter and gave some signs to the cashier, who returned them with some of her own and a bag with a single cheese danish inside. Yuri wondered why his instructor had sent him to follow this girl and watch her buy a danish. Nevertheless, he continued watching her.

He had nothing to do, after all.

As she was about to sign a goodbye to the cashier, he saw a small kid, around 6 years old, tug at the leg of her pants. She bent down to his height and tilted her head, silently asking him what he wanted. Yuri watched as he brought his hands up in front of him, making shaky hand gestures while still speaking to her out loud. “Miss Y/n… would you… play for us a little bit?” Yuri watched her. He saw something strange. Y/n’s stoic expression was slowly contorting. Her lips turning upwards and her eyes growing softer. She nodded a yes with a smile on her face. She ruffled the boy’s hair and held  his hand as she walked to the piano at the back of the café. She sat on the bench and the boy sat beside her. She looked at him anticipation, waiting for him to pick something for her to play. He pulled some sheet music out of the bag laying next to the piano and handed it to her. She only looked at the first page for a split second, reading the title before nodding and handing it back. Finally, finger by finger, she pulled off the leather gloves. Yuri could see nothing at all different about her hands. They were just like anyone else’s hands, covered in s/c skin, with the lithe fingers of a musician. Yuri and the boy sitting next to Y/n watched her hands as she lifted them and placed them lightly on the keys. She lifted them again, preparing to start the song.

The minute her fingers pressed down on the keys, Yuri could no longer hear the notes. He only heard a sound. It was a beautiful sound, but he couldn’t really identify it. He didn’t hear the combinations of the notes she pressed, he heard music. It was less of what he was hearing and more of what he was feeling. It was just something in the way that she played the notes. Maybe it was how hard she pressed the keys, or when she pushed the pedal. No, it’s not any of that. He thought. It was the feeling she put into the music. The music brought him back to a memory. He was laughing, eating pirozhkis with his grandpa. He didn’t know what they were laughing about and he didn’t care. He was just happy to be there, with the person he loves. But how could she, someone who doesn’t even know him, be able to bring him back to such a precious, private memory with her playing? He then began to realize that it wasn’t the memory that she was conveying.

It was the feelings tethered to that memory.

There was love, and there was a second feeling. He would try to put it into words if he could, but it only felt like one thing.

Home.

He fell deeper into the haze of memories she threw him in, thinking about all the things he did with his grandpa back home. The playing made him feel like he was actually there, with his grandpa next to him, sitting with him after a practice ran late, eating pirozhki, laughing over something stupid.

He looked around at the people around him, all smiling fondly and he realized that the feeling she conveyed wasn’t just for him. It reached everyone. For him, that memory was of him and his grandfather. For the two men at the other table it was something else. It was a different memory for the 5 kids and 3 women as well.

It amazed Yuri, how she was able to make a simple combination of notes on an instrument convey such an intense feeling and hold such a personal meaning for every person in the room. He now realized why Lilia wanted her to help with the emotions.

Y/n gave a hug to the little boy and walked out with her cheese danish. After regaining his composure, Yuri left as well and went back to Lilia’s house. Lilia met him at the door, not asking any questions. But, as he walked by her, she quickly pulled his hood down, allowing her to see his face. “Your red, it’s fading. You did hear her play.” Yuri was confused by the words, but shrugged them off because he was tired. He walked up the stairs to his room, letting the love that still enveloped him deteriorate with each step.

The next day, after another mistake-filled practice with Katerina, Yuri crept behind Y/n again to hear her play at the café again. He did the same the day after that, and the day after that. The routine was like clockwork. Practice finished, and he followed the girl with her red lollipop and gloves. Every night it was a different piece that resurfaced a different memory. Songs with love, tranquility, joy and others. He would always keep his face straight, but let the emotion wash over him. Tonight, it was one filled with intense anger. With a different piece came a different memory. He began to remember when he had lost Victor to the piggy back in Hasetsu, even though he thought he had finally found his Agape. Agape wasn’t easy for him and finding it was one of the hardest things he had to do. The piggy didn’t even know how to perform Eros and he won with it by thinking of a pork cutlet bowl. They were good, but they shouldn’t have been good enough to make him win! It wasn’t fair. Victor always broke his promises. He remembered how he walked out of the competition early because it was painfully obvious that the piggy won.

He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles grew paler than they already were, which seemed impossible. He thought of how close Victor was with the piggy, how the piggy would be the one doing the routines Victor created, how he was not even sure that he could beat the piggy now that he had Victor. He didn’t even notice when you ended the piece, still stuck in a haze of red. He didn’t notice when the man at the table near him started crying, muttering something about his former wife. All he noticed was his own anger, all he could see was red.

Until he noticed,

He wasn’t supposed to be seeing red.

He was supposed to see the dark yellow hiding behind it.

She wasn’t conveying anger.

She was conveying betrayal.

The music was rapid and fast-paced, but it had an undertone of sorrow and longing.

Yuri wasn’t mad at Victor.

He was sad.

Sad that his trust was broken.

Sad that he couldn’t rely on him.

Y/n began playing something else.

Through the sorrow, Yuri began to listen.

At this point, he didn’t know what to feel.

The piece permeated his being, he could feel it through every part of his body.

It was the most beautiful piece he had ever heard in his entire life.

Yuri didn’t know what chords were in the piece, or how fast it was, or even if it was being played wrong.

All he heard was music.

Music in its purest form.

He had no idea what it was supposed to make him feel.

Yuri realized, it wasn’t supposed to make him feel anything at all.

The music was just music.

Music is just a combination of notes put in a certain order.

The emotions didn’t come from there.

They came from the person making the music.

He finally understood why he had trouble expressing certain emotions in competition.

It was like the colors.

He had all of them, an entire palette like everyone else. He was afraid that they weren’t pretty enough for other people to see, so he covered all of them with a thick curtain of red.

But here was Y/n.

She was here, showing off her rainbow to everyone else, letting them know that they had the rainbow inside.

Letting him know that she could see past his red.

Some people don’t like certain colors.

There are those who dislike red, some who hate blue, a couple who can’t stand the sight of purple.

But there are those who love those same colors.

Which side are you supposed to cater to?

You can’t please everybody.

You don’t need to please anyone at all.

You possess all the colors and you can use all of them as you wish, you can create.

We are rainbows.

We are humans.

The realization overtook his body. His eyes started to water. The tears started coming out and he didn’t even try to stop them. This was how he felt and he needed to accept it. The red curtain was blown away as he saw the rainbow inside of him. His sadness, joy, love, everything.

He was no longer a red cloud.

He was a rainbow.

She opened him.

The feelings swallowed him as she ended the piece, walking to the counter to get her danish.

But before she left, she walked straight to the table he was sitting at, tapping him on the forehead. “Oi, pretty boy, get up. Lilia’s probably worried. “

Yuri was surprised. How did she know it was him?! As if she was reading his mind, she replied. “You aren’t very good at creeping around and the hood does little to hide your face. Walk with me.” Dumbfounded and still dazed, Yuri got up and obeyed Y/n, walking next to her. She took out her lollipop, which was now nothing more than a stick, and threw it out. She picked the danish out of the bag and bit into it as they walked out of the café. They walked a bit in silence before they came across a ledge overlooking the nearby canal. Y/n sat down and patted the spot next to her, gesturing for Yuri to do the same. He obediently sat and watched the water move. She took another bite out of the danish before offering it to him. He took a small bite and leaned back, continuing to watch the water.

Soon, she began to speak.

“I noticed you the first time you followed me. i didn’t say anything because I knew it was Lilia’s doing.”

She turned her head, making direct eye contact with him for the first time since the day in the studio. Her eyes reflected the yellow from the dim streetlamps that surrounded the canal.

“Give me your hand.” She said simply.

Yuri agreed though he was still confused. She began tracing the lines on his palm before stopping at a specific one.

“You see that?” She asked. He nodded. “This is where your nails have left imprints on your palms, meaning you clench your fists a lot. It shows me how angry you get.”

She then tapped a covered finger between his eyebrows. “There’s a crease here, meaning you frown a lot.” She brought that finger down to the side of his lips. “You also have this small wrinkle here, showing that your lips are usually angled downward, adding to the frowning.” Her gloved fingers stayed there, brushing over the dent in his skin. He began to turn red when he realized the position they were in. She seemed to notice too, quickly retracting her hand, trying to hide the extremely faint blush on her face.

“W-what I mean is, if anyone looks at you for a couple seconds, they can see the small signs that tell how much you get angry."

“Your anger is a force to be reckoned with, that’s clear to see. But you give it too much power so that it shrouds your other emotions. Many people are like that. We all have one emotion that usually overpowers our others. The trick is learning how to control it as much as your others. The emotions you are composed of are what make you human. Your humanity is not something you invalidate.”

She stood up. “Lilia will get worried soon, you should get back.”

As he stood up as well, she stopped him and brushed the hair away from his eyes. She stared into them, and surprisingly, let out a soft giggle. He gave her a questioning look. “Your red.” She said. “It’s cleared.” She tucked the hair behind his ear and walked off in the opposite direction, leaving Yuri to think about her for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Yuri went to the studio, expecting another day filled with Katerina and mistakes. What he didn’t expect to see was Y/n with her gloves off playing warm-up scales on the piano. He looked at her in awe as Lilia made her way over to whisper in his ear. “We somehow got her back, don’t botch this up again.”

Practice went perfectly that day. Y/n never made a mistake with what she was asked to play, and Yuri began to let his emotions take the lead in the dance. He was slow to accept them at first, but gradually let them in. Once practice ended, Yuri walked up to Y/n and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked at him, wondering what he wanted.

He brought his hand up, closing it into a fist. He then brought his fist to his chest and moved it in a circular motion. Y/n’s eyes widened.

He was saying sorry.

Yuri then brought his open hand to his chin and then moved it forward, clearly mouthing two words so that she could read his lips.

Thank you.

Y/n remained in shock for a minute and Yuri feared he had done something wrong. ‘Damn YouTube video!! They probably gave me the wrong gestures! What if I said something offensive?!’

The thoughts stopped streaming in when he heard Y/n speak again. “No problem pretty boy. Just refrain from saying anything stupid. Now I have a danish waiting for me. Want to come?”

Yuri nodded, following Y/n out of the studio.

He stopped her once again outside the café, a strange look on his face. “Got something to say?” She asked. He nodded. “If you enunciate well enough, I can lip-read.”

He opened his mouth. “That day, what I said to you about you not ‘knowing what you were doing’, I’m sorry. I’ve been under so much pressure for my senior debut and I was scared that you might slow me down. You are an amazing pianist and I shouldn’t have judged you like that. I know i insulted the entire deaf or hard-of-hearing community and I sincerely apologize.”

Y/n nodded. “Just because I’m deaf doesn’t mean I can’t do stuff like any other normal person. Don’t worry, I accept your apology. Just don’t say anything like that again, pretty boy.”

Yuri nodded in understanding and continued into the café for Y/n’s daily performance.

After that day, the boy’s routine changed a bit. He would wake up and go to practice, but afterwards, instead of hiding in alleyways trying not to be seen, Yuri would walk side by side with Y/n, talking and laughing on the way. He would enunciate his words more clearly so she could lip-read and understand him. He also started taking some online sign-language courses so that he could communicate with her more effectively. Their conversations were mixes of a few words and signs, but in the end, both understood each other perfectly. Y/n started to carry around two cherry lollipops, one for Yuri. Yuri would carry around an extra jacket for Y/n, who frequently forgot to wear one. “Seriously dumbass! Who remembers to wear gloves but not a jacket?!” “Me.” “You’re an idiot.”

Every night, Yuri would sit in on Y/n’s performances and they would share the danish on the way home. They would sign a goodnight at the canal and repeat it all over the next day.

Their conversations were of anything they could find to talk about, resulting in both knowing extremely random things about each other. ‘Y/n only wears the gloves because she’s really prone to dry skin. Yuri has three cat-ear headbands. Y/n doesn’t even know that she looks mean. Her stoic face is just her resting face. Yuri believes conspiracy theories. Y/n has a least favorite multiple of three, it’s 27. Yuri has a pair of fluorescent orange socks with cats all over them. Y/n’s feet are cold 24/7 because she doesn’t like wearing socks. She thinks they feel weird.’

Eventually, one day, Yuri decided to go to the rink and skate as a change of pace. He also decided to bring Y/n with him.

Can you skate? He signed as he watched her lace up her skates. “I can move around without falling, if that’s what you mean.” She steadily replied out loud.

Y/n stood at the side of the rink as she watched Yuri perform the Agape that failed him back at Hasetsu. His movements were perfect, but the emotion was not. The movements, aside from being perfect, were so sharp and harsh that Y/n physically winced. Yuri had vented to her many times about the incident at Hasetsu involving Victor and the other Yuuri, so she had a basic idea of the situation. As he finished, she gestured for him to come over. This is the routine from back at Hasetsu, correct? She signed. He nodded. Your agape isn’t there. You’re letting the anger from the incident cloud the entire routine so it becomes angry. Don’t think about Victor during the routine. Think of your agape. Yuri nodded and tried the routine again. This time, his movements were still perfect, but more fluid and beautiful. Y/n smiled. Now this is agape.

As they made their way back, through broken signs and a couple words, Yuri explained his desire to beat the other Yuuri at his next competition. Y/n giggled. She thought it was cute, the way that Yuri referred to people by little sign language nicknames he made for them instead of spelling out their names. He referred to Victor as just V in sign language, not wanting to spell out his name. He referred to the other Yuri by putting an open palm under his chin and curling and uncurling his knuckles, the sign for pig. He referred to Yakov as old man, and Lilia as scary ballerina. She wondered how he would refer to her. One day, when she got curious enough, she asked him. She expected him to do something silly, but instead, he hooked his index fingers together and shook his fists twice.

Best friend

Y/n felt a rush of happiness. This was the first time anyone had called her their friend, much less their best friend. She immediately hugged Yuri and felt him stiffen under her. He was frozen for a few seconds, but eventually, he wrapped his arms around her, muttering “Don’t go all soft on me now.” even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. She could see the blush on his face when she pulled away, but she decided not to mention it in hopes of hugging him more often. She blushed at the thought she just had. Why did she want to continue hugging Yuri?

Y/n brushed off the thought and continued walking with Yuri as he changed the subject by asking her a different question.

Slowly, Y/n began to get more comfortable with Yuri, the same with Yuri. One day, he finally plucked up the courage to ask her something he had been wondering for a very long time.

If you don’t mind me asking, how can you speak so well?

Y/n smiled sadly at the question as she signed back.

I was born with hearing, but it slowly deteriorated due to a medical condition. When I was 9, it went away entirely. I could already speak quite well and I just learned sign language.

Y/n gave Yuri a moment to register what she said because he was still a beginner when it came to sign language. She then continued when he nodded.

I always loved to play piano. I stopped for some time after I lost my hearing because I was afraid of making mistakes. Eventually, I realized that hearing wasn’t what was stopping me from making music. It was me who was stopping myself. Mind over matter. Once I broke down my personal barriers, I could play again. I’ve applied to a couple conservatories recently to see if I could play professionally.

Yuri stopped walking and held Y/n’s hand as he stared into her eyes. Something wrong?  She asked. He put a hand on her cheek as he continued staring into her eyes. It’s blue, isn’t it? He signed. Your dominant color. Sorrow. Y/n nodded.

I know i said all that stuff about mind over matter, but almost everyday, I wish I could hear at least one note that I play. I would give anything at all to hear the music.

Yuri moved forward and wrapped his arms around Y/n as a few tears dripped from her eyes. It was still, quiet, except for Y/n’s barely audible sobs echoing in the empty street. Suddenly, Yuri felt something drop on his head. He looked up to see a drizzle starting, eventually becoming full-on rain. Y/n slowly pulled away as she felt it too. As she looked at the rain coming from above, she began to smile. She grabbed Yuri’s hands.

Dance with me, she signed.

Yuri laughed. There’s no music.

So? Who needs it. I certainly don’t.

Yuri scoffed at the girl’s silly behavior before putting his hands on her waist while she did the same on his shoulders. They swayed slightly, Y/n moving forward to rest her head on Yuri’s chest, his chin on top of her head. Both were blushing, neither could see. They just lived in the moment, each relishing the feeling of the other in their arms.

After some time, Y/n pulled away. I don’t want you to catch a cold. We should get home.

Yuri grabbed onto her wrist. Wait.

I wanted to tell you something.

Then say it. She was always so blunt.

I would’ve, but I believe actions speak much louder than words you can’t hear.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. What did he mean?

Yuri tilted the girl’s chin up, moving forward until his lips met her own.

If someone told Y/n the day she met Yuri Plisetsky, that one day she’d be kissing him in the rain, his arms holding her as if she’d disappear once he let go, she would’ve drop-kicked them to Japan.

But right now, she wasn’t thinking of the ironicity of the situation, or even what would happen after the kiss. She was thinking of what she could do to make sure Yuri Plisetsky didn’t stop kissing her. As they continued, Yuri reached for her hand, only to pull off her glove and stick it in his pocket. He did the same to her other hand as she took her bare hand and tangled it in the soft blond mass of hair, lifting it away so she could see Yuri’s perfect green eyes. But she wasn’t going to see them. She was too afraid to open her eyes, fearing that once she did, she would discover that all of this wasn’t real and she was still alone.

But as she felt Yuri’s lips on her own, his hands on her waist, she had a sudden rush of courage. She slowly opened her eyes, only to be met by Yuri’s own green ones, there, clear as day. Tears started streaming down her face, mixing with the rain. Yuri immediately noticed and pulled away. What’s wrong?

Nothing. I’m just so happy. I thought I would open my eyes and you wouldn’t be there, or you’d disappear-

Yuri pulled her into him and held her tight. He kissed the top of her head as she buried her face into his chest. He held her there tightly so she wouldn’t see the tears on his own face as he, knowing she couldn’t hear him, bent next to her ear and whispered “I’m right here.”

He shivered and pulled away, signing at her. We’re going to catch a cold dumbass! Why do you like rain so much anyway?

Y/n looked up at him, a smile on her face, holding up shaky hands.

After the rain, comes the rainbow.

After that day, Yuri’s routine was altered a bit more. It was still mostly the same, he would have practice in the mornings, walk to Y/n’s performances, but it was different in the little ways, which he liked.

He liked how he now held Y/n’s gloveless hand on the way to the café as they continued to talk and laugh over whatever they could find. He liked how he walked her out of the café with an arm around her waist. He liked how they spent a few extra minutes at the canal, watching the water and stealing kisses before leaving.

He never wanted it to end.

But it did.

Yuri finally got his assignments.

On the same day, Y/n got an offer from a piano conservatory in England.

Both were panicking.

Neither knew about the other.

They were too afraid to leave each other behind.

The walk to the café that day was quiet, both were thinking of how to tell the other.

They tried to put it off as long as possible.

After Y/n played at the café, they ended up blurting it out at the same time.

Neither knew what to say.

Y/n made the first move. She walked forward and wrapped Yuri in a hug as he hugged back. She pulled away.

I’m so proud of you! She signed.

And I’m proud of you! He replied.

You’ve made such amazing progress with your agape and I know how amazing you are. You’re going to win gold! I know it!

Yuri smiled. And I know how amazing you’ll do at the Conservatory!

Yuri’s smiled started to fade. I don’t want to lose you. I want to pursue my dreams and I want you to chase your’s, but I can’t wake up every morning pining for you.

Y/n understood. The feelings were strong, but it couldn’t be like this. Both of them had their own dreams and would do anything to achieve them.

I understand Yuri. Which is why i think we should give this relationship some time. You are the right person, but it’s too early. We can both achieve our dreams and pick up where we left off. We have to chase our own rainbows.

Yuri thought about that. Skating was something he loved, but he also loved Y/n. Y/n loved her piano, but she also loved him. The relationship was nice, but he wanted to win gold, and a relationship wasn’t what he needed right now. She didn’t need it either. He nodded.

It’s probably a better idea to get our careers more on track before this. But I want you to know that I do love you. I love you so much. Never forget that.

Y/n grabbed his hand and stroked it. I love you too. More than anything.

Y/n looked down at his hand and smiled as he raised an eyebrow. What are you smiling at? Y/n pointed down at his hand.

The line I showed you that day, the one left by your nails. It’s gone. You haven’t clenched your fists as much. She lifted her hand to his face. The creases are gone too. You’ve improved Yuri! She cupped his cheek. Yuri smiled.

It’s all because of you.

You showed me my rainbow.

Y/n came to see Yuri off at the airport when he left to compete. Her flight to England would leave the next day. She grabbed Yuri’s hand right before he boarded the plane.

Don’t forget to text me. You have my number. Just because we’re on a break doesn’t mean you’re not my friend anymore, pretty boy.

Yuri laughed. I thought you stopped with that nickname.

Never, pretty boy.

Okay, I promise, now my flight will leave without me.

Fine, I’ll let you go.

As she let go and he was about to leave, she grabbed him again. He turned around.

What now?

It’s just… I love you. Don’t forget that.

Yuri rolled his eyes. I love you too idiot, and I couldn’t forget you if I tried. Now I have to board my plane.

She nodded. Go Yuri. Go chase that rainbow and don’t you dare stop.

Yuri walked to the flight attendant who then scanned his boarding pass. He looked back to see Y/n waving at him. He waved back and forced himself to leave, not looking back. Y/n did the same. It hurt for both of them, but they knew it was for the best.

4 years later…

Yuri laced on his skates while he thought about the girl waiting in the audience for him. He thought about all he had to go through those past 4 years without her. There were days when he woke up feeling horrible, needing her comfort, but unable to receive it. There were even days when he hated her. Scrolling through his Instagram to see a picture of her standing a bit too close to a male friend. He even tried to move on a couple times, agreeing to small dates with the women who flirted with him at parties. But every night, he would come home dejected because those women were not her. They knew nothing except his physical appearance. They didn’t know about his fuzzy pair of orange cat socks and they didn’t tease him about the fact that he believed in conspiracy theories because he never told them any of that stuff. He couldn’t tell them any of that stuff.

They weren’t her.

They never would be.

He couldn’t ever find someone like her, she was one of a kind.

There were days when he thought he would never feel love again.

But there was something that kept him going.

Six words

I love you. Don’t forget that.

The message she sent after he saw that photo ranting about how annoying that male classmate was, the good-luck FaceTime she gave him before every serious performance, him doing the same to her. All the little things kept him afloat.

And most of all, the promise she made him.

He was talking to her late at night, trying not to get caught by Yakov. He was ranting about how the music for his performances just never felt right to him. Yuri’s eyes were beginning to droop out of exhaustion and she saw his signs getting slightly more sloppy, he was getting sleepier. He was lying down, and as she continued signing, she saw his eyes close as he fell fast asleep. She smiled at the sight of sleeping Yuri before her. She didn’t know that he was only half asleep, so he could still hear. She did something she hadn’t done since the night she showed him his rainbow.

She spoke to him.

It was only 11 words, a promise that she didn’t expect him to hear, but he did.

“Yuri Plisetsky, I promise, one day, i will play for you.”

She then ended the call to let him sleep, not realizing that he heard you.

He kept that promise in mind during every performance, giving them all his best no matter how he felt. He was going to achieve his dreams so that he could see her again.

And he made it.

He won gold at the Olympics, breaking many records in the process.

She had become a critically acclaimed pianist, performing in a world-touring orchestra and teaching children when she had time.

Their dreams were achieved.

And now, she was there in the audience, about to see him for the first time in person after 4 years.

He still loved her.

She still loved him.

And she was keeping her promise.

He skated onto the rink, ignoring the crowd cheering and looking for only one face.

There she was,

Right in the front row, closest to the rink.

She had changed.

She no longer wore the gloves, and she didn’t carry around the red lollipop.

But it was still her.

As his name was being announced, Y/n and Yuri looked at each other.

He signed one thing to her, something he wished he could say to her again every day after he left.

I love you

Y/n signed it back

I love you too. Now kick some ass out there. I didn’t record this piece for nothing

Yuri smiled, she really hadn’t changed much at all.

He listened to the announcer.

“Now, we have Olympic gold medalist,Yuri Plisetsky, skating to “Rainbow”, an original song by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, written and conducted by Y/n L/n with a piano solo from her as well.”

Yuri took a deep breath as the starting notes of the song rung in his ears.

It was amazing.

He threw himself into the performance, every movement perfect, the love perfectly clear in every breath he took. It was the best performance of his career.

Because she was there.

As the last few notes rang out while he was in his ending pose, he was only looking at her and she was only looking at him.

They were the only two people in the world.

The score didn’t matter to him now, it didn’t matter to either of them.

She got out of her seat and threw her leg over the barrier separating you from the rink. Y/n knew it was reckless to get on the rink without skates, but she didn’t care.

Yuri skated over and caught her as she jumped over the barrier into his arms.

He was still holding her, so he couldn’t sign. Y/n read his lips instead.

“You idiot.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too idiot. You really couldn’t wait, could you?”

“I’ve waited 4 years. That’s enough.”

She grabbed his face and roughly kissed him, still in his arms, as the audience cheered.

“I kept my promise, didn’t I, I’m still here.” Yuri said with a smirk.

“Yes, you did. Why did you chase after me anyways?”

Yuri grinned.

“After all the rain comes the rainbow. i never stop chasing my rainbows."

[dirty-holy-things]

The Space Between (your heart & mine)

Chapter 16 has been posted to Ao3, and below to Tumblr.  Catch up on chapters 1-15 on Ao3. 

Notes: 18+, explicit!!!! This chapter is the ‘burn’ of the slow burn we’ve been developing for 15 chapters. We’re finally there, for those of you who have been long-time readers. Please note, I’ve never written this much smut before. It’s A LOT, and I mean a lot of this chapter. M & F, oral receiving and penetration. Unprotected sex for the sake of storytelling, but please wrap it before you tap it IRL. Praise kink, because Din and Reader need validation. Some fun and adventurous positioning and activities. Also, very romantic ending. 

Words: 9.1k update, 75.7k total. 

If you would like to be added to my taglist, please fill out this form!

Having stepped into the dimly-lit club, your eyes took a moment to adjust and take in the scene around you. Low-slung leather chairs and booths were scattered throughout the dark room, their occupants being some of the more fearful individuals in the galaxy. These cruel and cunning men, however, were in varying states of disarray due to the large amounts of alcohol and spice that were brazenly displayed on the tables they were seated at. In addition to the smoke-stained booths, there were several raised platforms that held women who were twisting themselves around metallic poles, their bodies scantily clad as they danced sensually for the crowd of drunken onlookers.

And that was where you would find yourself shortly after being allowed into the club.

They had assumed you were one of the dancers.

A large, burly man grabbed you by the arm and you instinctively threw your elbow back into his gut at the sudden intrusion of your personal space, your arm connecting with a solid expanse of hard muscle. “C’mon, babydoll, don’t be so sensitive,” the man grumbled, hauling you towards the unoccupied pedestal. “Do your fucking job and don’t bitch about it.” He tossed you forward into the velvet-covered platform, and as you caught yourself on your hands, you understood that you had about three seconds to decide what you were going to do next.

Do you confront the man about the mistaken identity, and risk causing a scene? Risk losing the bounty, or possibly getting yourself hurt once they realize you’re not meant to be here?

Or do you get up there and find a way to make this unexpected plot change work for you?

Credit due to @knivesareout​ for the perfect moldboard and for her undying love for me and my fic. 

Also tagging @soyelfuegoquearde​ for beta’ing my project and giving me all of the constructive criticism and positive feedback that has helped me grow as an author. 

And my love @emmikmil​ / @bdavishiddlesbatch​ for her never-ending love and enthusiasm for Din and Reader.

I love you all so very much. 

Chapter 16 - Read More

The things that you had heard in passing about Corellia were too kind in their assessment, and they had been harsh to start. There was a filmy scum that lingered in the air and clung to clothing, surfaces, even to the air in your lungs. The industrial planet was bleak and grim, and you were almost beginning to regret your offer to assist Din with this bounty; would it have really been so bad to hunker down here in the ship, sleep for a while, maybe even pick up a book in town to keep you entertained? However, you also knew that if you had to spend an undetermined amount of time cooped up in the ship, without Din, trying to manage the kid on your own, no view except that of a dirty industrial cityscape, being constantly terrified that Din could get hurt again — you would probably lose your mind. So you decided to step out into the grisly world of Corellia, Din at your side.  

The towers of steel and metal that warped up towards the sky were certainly a departure from the organic beauty of Bardotta that you had grown accustomed to during the last job. You tried to find something appealing in the architecture, your eyes scanning the horizon, and came to the conclusion that there was certainly... dedication and precision in the construction, and that was something that you could appreciate. You needed to find something agreeable within it all. 

The kid was sleeping in his cradle, the wampa having been tucked under his short green arm, left to rest in the ship during the course of what was predicted to be a short job. Din navigated the two of you through the dirty, narrow streets of the city and away from the shipyard. He didn’t seem to notice or mind the filth too much, as he stomped onwards through puddles, mud, trash, splashing it onto his clothing and armor — and being a bit more hygienically minded, you took the extra effort to keep yourself clean as you sidestepped what could reasonably be avoided. It was unnecessary self-preservation as the cleanliness of your boots probably didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things, but it was just in your nature. 

Din was leading you both to a well-concealed speakeasy, known for hosting an intriguing assortment of characters that preferred to avoid the prying eyes of the galaxy, and partake in... questionable activities. Din had made contact with an acquaintance who was able to provide you with instructions for how to enter into the underground club, including the password that was changed frequently specifically to avoid situations like yours. It was mean to be a safe haven for the rich and powerful; there would be drinking, music, smoking, gambling, bloodshed, prostitution, drugs, fighting, and that was on a quiet night. Gods only knew what else the oncoming evening could hold. You weren’t particularly worried, however, knowing that the towering bounty hunter that stalked along in front of you would keep you safe if worst came to worst. And you didn’t have any significant worries about this job, the nature of it being simple and familiar. 

The setup of this job was similar to the one you had helped with back on Canto Bight; you’d flirt with the target, have a drink, bat your eyelashes, and draw him away from the crowd with a thinly veiled proposition. It wasn’t rocket science, luring a man; there were quite a lot of things in life that were harder, like navigating a ship or even firing a blaster. And yet Din seemed incredibly nervous and stressed on your behalf, holding enough worry for the two of you. While you had grown used to periods of silence from him, this one felt different. This one had an undercurrent of tension that rolled off of him in waves, so thick you could almost see it — or maybe that was just Corellia, and you were reading too much into this. 

The sun was beginning to set along the horizon, reflecting beams of orange and crimson and gold throughout the city’s structure; you remembered how Din had shared with you that his favorite color was orange, and you wondered if he was finding some sort of beauty in this moment as well, or if he had even noticed. He hadn’t said anything to you for quite some time now, having navigated you from the outskirts of the city and its shipyard, to the bustling urban center that housed a variety of species and droids that were frankly quite rude. You had been bumped into on more than one occasion without so much as an ‘excuse me.’ You figured you had just grown used to the niceties that were afforded on a planet like Chandrila, and reminded yourself that you had chosen to leave that place in favor of travel — which would include a change in attitudes and social customs. You still made a point to apologize to those you collided with though. 

Having seen the industriousness of the capitol city here on Corellia, you were increasingly intrigued by what this speakeasy experience would be like. Din had informed you that it was a popular spot for those working with Crimson Dawn, the Hutts, the Pyke Syndicate — violent, ruthless individuals. The target for this evening was a Twi’lek who had been working for the Hutts, who had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared with a large shipment of spice; it was suspected that he had run off with it for himself, feeling brave enough to try and hide. It was a stupid choice, even you knew that — while Orron had never tell you much about the spice dealings, you still knew that double crossing the Hutts was borderline suicidal. The sheer confidence and conceit of such a bold move was intriguing, that couldn’t be denied; but hiding from the Hutts was nearly impossible, and his bold stupidity would be catching up with him today. 

You had worked to prepare yourself adequately for the evening, having brought along a pack of supplies that would transform you into an appealing bait prior to your arrival. You had correctly assumed that dressing for a party before trekking through the city would be a poor decision, and you applauded yourself for your foresight, seeing the grim state that your clothing was now in. The sun was descending lower into the skyline and you knew that you were getting close to the destination, based on the projected timeline for the job. 

Picking up the pace so you were now walking in stride with Din, you tilted your head in the direction of a small shop that would likely afford you some space in a fresher to change and finish preparing. He nodded silently in agreement and you disappeared inside, finding a young boy with mousy blonde hair sleeping behind the counter. He was startled awake by your unexpected entrance, and you tossed him some credits to accompany your question about where you would locate a fresher. He pointed to the back of the store wordlessly and you thanked him before disappearing. 

You closed the door behind you and locked it securely, before stripping out of the clothes that had accumulated a fair amount of muck in the past hour’s journey. You wriggled your way into a sparkling silver dress that just barely skimmed your thighs, admiring the shimmer of the sheer fabric as it clung to your body. The dress choice had been intentional, the versatility of it appealing; you knew it would sparkle like diamonds when caught by bright lights, and would set off a soft, illuminating glow in low light. Either way, eyes would be drawn to you. You slid on a pair of white boots that propelled yourself a good four inches higher into the air, and added a few pieces of jewelry to round out the look. You pulled your hair out of the buns you had tied it up in, as it now fell around your shoulders in casual waves, and you put on just enough makeup to highlight your features. Assessing that you looked enticing enough, you slid back into your dark grey coat that would hide your glamorous appearance from the city-dwellers until your arrival at the club. 

As you stepped out of the shop to rejoin your companion, you readied yourself to say goodbye for the evening, trying to shift your perspective to the job at hand rather than the part of you that was incredibly sad to be parted from Din. Even knowing that the separation was only temporary, you would still be eagerly looking forward to being reunited. Staring up into the visor of the helmet, you stepped closer to him and placed your arms on his hips, wanting to pull him in closely but also understanding that it may not be an appropriate choice as you were out in public. He placed a gloved hand on your shoulder and another on the small of your back, the helmet coming to rest against your forehead. 

“Do you have the blaster? And the knife?” He asked, his voice sounding constricted even with the modulator. You were getting better at deciphering that which the modulator tried to hide. 

“I’ve got the knife, but the blaster doesn’t really go with this outfit,” you joked, reassuring him that you were protected. “This’ll be easy, I promise.” You whispered, trying to build up his confidence and sense of security. “Just like last time. We can get the job over with quickly, and then go home.” 

You heard a soft sigh come through the modulator as he nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

 “I’ll see you soon, Din.” 

***

Getting into the club had been ridiculously easy, especially once the guard at the door saw the way that you were dressed. For being so secretive of a club, you were shocked at the ease with which you were able to sneak in; you assumed that they just didn’t worry too much when a beautiful young woman turned up at their door. Din was going to take more of a… back-door route into the club, dispatching the guard who protected the service entrance, and he would find a discreet place to hide and watch out for you and the target. You had kept the knife, and the comm that was connected to his, and you would alert him when you had lured the Twi’lek away from the party and the crowd. Din would then join the two of you, disarm and cuff the target, and then you would go home to the Razor Crest. It was a simple plan, with a hefty payout for an evening of easy work. 

... Or so you had thought. 

Having stepped into the dimly-lit club, your eyes took a moment to adjust and take in the scene around you. Low-slung leather chairs and booths were scattered throughout the dark room, their occupants being some of the more fearful individuals in the galaxy. These cruel and cunning men, however, were in varying states of disarray due to the large amounts of alcohol and spice that were brazenly displayed on the tables they were seated at. In addition to the smoke-stained booths, there were several raised platforms that held women who were twisting themselves around metallic poles, their bodies scantily clad as they danced sensually for the crowd of drunken onlookers. 

And that was where you would find yourself shortly after being allowed into the club. 

They had assumed you were one of the dancers. 

A large, burly man grabbed you by the arm and you instinctively threw your elbow back into his gut at the sudden intrusion of your personal space, your arm connecting with a solid expanse of hard muscle. “C’mon, babydoll, don’t be so sensitive,” the man grumbled, hauling you towards the unoccupied pedestal. “Do your fucking job and don’t bitch about it.” He tossed you forward into the velvet-covered platform, and as you caught yourself on your hands, you understood that you had about three seconds to decide what you were going to do next. 

Do you confront the man about the mistaken identity, and risk causing a scene? Risk losing the bounty, or possibly getting yourself hurt once they realize you’re not meant to be here? 

Or do you get up there and find a way to make this unexpected plot change work for you? 

You bit the inside of your lip to the point of bleeding as you quickly came to your decision. You brought yourself up onto the well-worn, blood red platform and into the blisteringly hot stage lights that were turned on you and the other dancers; taking a moment to pretend to bask in the cheers and lewd hollers that followed your entrance, you tried to get a feel for the rhythm of the music that you would now have to dance to. 

Fuck, let’s hope they’re high enough to believe this. 

Closing your eyes, you sank into the rhythm and melody of the music that the band was playing, and you began to move your body in time with it, trying to put on a show despite never having danced before a day in your life. This would be an awfully convenient time for some Force abilities to show up. 

You had no such luck, but the drugged and drunk patrons didn’t seem to mind much; you were there for their amusement and pleasure, to fuel their egos and sense of power. You were also just one of several dancers; subtly turning, you observed the others so you could try and copy their fluid and sensual movements, the muscles in your thighs and core being worked in ways that you had not experienced before. You kept an eye out in the room for the target, and eventually you spotted him sitting about three booths away, a group of nasty looking mercenaries at his side. 

Alright, let’s get this over with before my legs give out. 

Batting your painted eyelashes at him, you winked at the Twi’lek and blew him a kiss before turning your focus back to the dance that you were trying to pull off. 

The band changed songs, and the other dancers kept going, adjusting to the new tempo and you assumed that’s what was expected of you as well. You wondered when this would end, when you would have an opportunity to get this night over with — your legs were burning as you stretched, bent, spun, flexed in different and new ways, all while trying to maintain some semblance of decency — you didn’t want anyone but Din to look at you how these men were. 

Keeping your focus on the target, you saw the Twi’lek man gesture to the burly man who had brought you up here; a quiet conversation took place during which he pointed directly at you, and then you witnessed the Twi’lek hand the man a stack of Imperial credits. 

He was buying you. 

It was a departure from the original plan, but then again everything about this night had been. The original plan had been left in the dust, and you just hoped that Din would be able to keep pace with the changes. Following the men’s transaction, you watched as the Twi’lek disappeared through a hallway into a private room, and the large man made his way to the platform you had been brought to. Coming to a halt in front of you, he grunted something entirely unintelligible over the sounds of the music and the crowd, but the meaning was not lost on you. Your services had been bought. 

You climbed down from the platform, the glow of the hot stage light leaving you, and you sighed in relief; the man pointed in the general direction of where the Twi’lek had gone and you wordlessly took your cue to join him. Slinking your way through the tables, you ran your hand along the knife that had been carefully concealed, hidden underneath your dress and pressed against your ribs; you were suddenly very grateful for Din’s insistence that you carry it. You then retrieved the small comm from the bosom of your dress, having cleverly hidden it there; you pressed the button on the side once, twice, three times, alerting him that you were moving and the final phase of the plan was in action. 

You arrived at the end of the hallway to find the door to the private room; it was one of many discreet doors, but this was the only one that was cracked just slightly to indicate to you where to go. Feeling your heart start to race, you hoped that Din would be close behind you, as the thought of being alone with this man for an extended period of time was admittedly quite terrifying; the thought that he had bought your... services, and would be expecting you to engage accordingly, made your skin crawl. The nervousness that you hadn’t felt previously was starting to catch up with you, and you had a bit more understanding of why Din had been as concerned as he was. 

You could feel an acidic, stabbing pain of nervousness in your gut as your feet carried you closer and closer to the dark walnut door. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, pushing that nervousness and fear away, you knocked softly on the door to indicate your arrival. You stepped into what was a surprisingly clean and relatively quiet room; it was free from the colorful and flashing lights of the rest of the club, instead being dimly lit with candles that illuminated comfortable-looking furniture, and a table with a bottle of sparkling wine. 

You turned your gaze to the Twi’lek in front of you; he wasn’t unattractive, but the fact that he had the audacity to try and purchase sex from a woman — no, he wasn’t even purchasing sex from a woman, it was from a fucking pimp — was nauseating, and the smugness that rolled off of him threatened to make your nose turn up in disgust. Forcing aside your personal assessments, you smiled at him and took a seat next to him before pouring you each a glass of wine. You knew you needed to focus on playing your role and getting the job over with. 

Taking a sip of the wine you had poured, the carbonation tickled your nose and you giggled instinctively, not accustomed to the sensation. The man took it as an indication of interest, however, and his hand moved to your upper thigh, pushing the hem of your dress to the side. He downed the rest of his drink quickly before turning to place his other hand on your shoulder — and then his body was moving closer and closer towards yours, and your heart pounded, your head screamed at you to get the fuck out of here, where is Din, fuck, should I kill this guy? 

Right at the moment that you had moved to make a grab for your knife, the heavy wooden door you had walked through opened quietly and you breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the beskar that glowed in the lamplight. The Twi’lek kept his hands where they were on your body, but turned from you to speak to the intruder, growling, “Hey buddy, get the fuck outta here, can’t you see we’re busy?”

You winced and concealed a laugh, knowing that while this man may not die tonight, he would not be feeling too great once Din was done with him. The door closed and the three of you were concealed from the party, contained in the privacy of the room together. Before the man had time to touch you any further, Din reached out to grab the Twi’lek and roughly hauled him off of you, only slightly throwing his body into the glass table that shattered on impact. 

You didn’t need to see Din’s face to know that he was absolutely livid. Having been removed from the unwanted grasp of the Twi’lek, knowing that you and Din were both safe, there was a part of you that got a sort of thrill from the protectiveness that Din displayed for you. It was also shockingly and undeniably attractive watching him rough the guy up, and your biological, hormonal  response to the sight caught you a bit off guard.

The Twi’lek was unconscious, but thankfully not dead; after having been thrown through a glass table by your protector, he was... quite easy to disarm and handcuff. After Din had thoroughly secured the situation at hand, he stomped over to you angrily, the force of his steps echoing around you, and you could feel the rage and possessiveness that was positively boiling underneath the armor. “Are you alright?” He asked brusquely, pulling your scantily clad body into his heavily covered one.

“Yes, Din, I’m fine — things didn’t go exactly to plan, but I’m—“ 

He cut you off as he brought his hand down to cover your eyes— surprised, you started to recoil on instinct, until you heard the click of his helmet being removed; and then his lips were on yours, kissing you greedily and intensely in a way that you had never experienced before. Instinctively, your hands reached out to pull him closer into you and you were hit by an absolute tidal wave of need for him. You bit down on his lip, an animalistic drive taking over your body, and he growled underneath you. “Fuck,” he grunted, pulling away from you but keeping his hand securely over your eyes. “Fuck, fuck, not here — get you home —“ 

You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or not, but you whined as your body screamed out for more contact, more attention than what you were receiving. You heard the helmet click back into place and your chest deflated, knowing that you would not be getting what you needed; at least not yet. His hand moved away from your eyes and you saw Din standing in front of you, breathing heavily and roughly. You clearly weren’t alone in your own desires, but Din at least had the foresight to know that this was not the time or place. 

He wordlessly turned to grab the unconscious man and haul him out, being rougher than you had expected as the man’s head knocked into the door frame with a thud. You followed along behind him, trusting him to know what he was doing despite the adrenaline and the hormones that were rushing over you both like Naboo’s waterfalls. He navigated you carefully out of the speakeasy, until the two —no, three— of you were back into the cool, muggy evening air of Corellia. You saw a guard had been dispatched by Din at the back door, and a M-68 Landspeeder that was presumably stolen was waiting for you. Din lifted the unconscious body into the back seat and allowed it to slump over before he was then reaching out to grab you, his hands planted tightly on your waist as he lifted you up, as though your weight was nothing for him, and set you down into the passenger seat of the speeder before climbing in next to you. 

The journey back to the ship was blessedly short compared to the initial journey into the city, thanks to Din’s questionable acquisition of a vehicle, but it was just as silent as the day’s earlier journey had been. You weren’t sure of what was going on in Din’s head, but you knew that you were aching to get back to the security of the ship and to be able to be alone with him. You felt excitement blooming within you as the Razor Crest came into your line of sight, but Din remained maddeningly silent. 

He got the limp body securely sealed into carbonite with impressive speed, before picking your tense and wanting body up and out of the vehicle. Much to your surprise, he didn’t set you down on the ground, but rather carried you up the ramp and into the ship you both knew as home. 

You could feel the adrenaline and desire pumping through your body as you felt Din’s strong arms wrapped around you, carrying you gently but with a force and determination that was a bit nerve-wracking. You were fairly certain that you could hear his heart hammering against the beskar chest plate that you were pressed against, and his gloved hands just barely dug into your skin, making your heart race in anticipation for what was undoubtedly about to come next. 

The lights in the cabin of the ship had already been turned off, and your sense of anticipation heightened with the deprivation. Din takes his helmet off in the dark. He placed you down unexpectedly, your feet fighting to keep you upright, and that coupled with the darkness was momentarily disorienting. He stepped closer into you, his frame eclipsing yours as you were backed into the wall of the cabin and you could feel the steel paneling against the skin that your silver dress had left exposed. The cold steel coupled with the desire that was burning through you, radiating from your core, gave you an intense sensory overload that left your chest rising and falling rapidly as your breaths became more shallow, a soft whine arising from you. 

Your hands reached out, grasping for any bit of Din that they could reach, and you somewhat forcefully dragged him into you, using his body to pin yourself against the wall of the ship. You heard a grunt come through the modulator and the fire inside you crawled up your chest as you told him in no uncertain terms to “Take that off, right fucking now.” 

You heard the helmet drop to the floor not a second later, with no regard for its integrity — but honestly, it was beskar, you’d be more worried about the integrity of the floor than the helmet — and the impulsiveness of the gesture only fueled the scorching fire that was running through your veins, setting every nerve ending alight. Finally having been freed from the restrictiveness of the helmet, Din growled your name under his breath as he leaned in to kiss you, echoing the fierce desperation with which he had kissed you in the speakeasy. His arms wrapped around you in a vice as his hands grabbed your ass, and he licked into your mouth, the heat and the taste of his tongue making you moan underneath him reflexively. You kissed him deeper, needing to be as close to him as possible — the cool beskar pressing into you made him feel even more domineering, powerful, but you resented its presence and the way it barricaded you from Din’s body. 

“Never doing that again — not going on another job with me —“ Din grunted, his words partially lost in the heavy, bruising kisses he was trailing up your neck. “Saw you— saw you dancing, saw that motherfucker pay — should’ve killed him —“ 

God, the possessiveness and the protectiveness was fucking hot. There was something within you that reveled in his intense desire to protect you and keep you to himself. Memories of the fresher came back to you, how he had called you his good girl, and the prospect of hearing those words spoken into your soft skin again made you achingly wet for him. You sighed into him, your body melting underneath his touch as he kissed and harshly bit at the soft skin of your neck, loving the way his teeth felt scraping and sinking into you. It felt as though there was a storming, angry ocean of desire and desperation crashing into you ceaselessly, so overwhelming that you worried you might drown in it before Din would be able to give you what you needed. 

You tangled your hands into the hair that you noticed was growing even longer, the curls feeling so real and so human, despite the forced disconnect of armor and anonymity. “Din,” you sighed, tugging his curling hair gently, trying to pull him out of the smoldering anger he was experiencing, and back into this moment with you. You didn’t want to hear any more about the job, the club, any of it — you wanted to hear Din tell you that you look so pretty taking his cock, you’re his good girl, your pussy feels better than anything in this galaxy. 

“My girl,” he whispered roughly, digging his fingers into your exposed skin, the warm baritone of his unfiltered voice setting off butterflies — and for a moment you wondered if he could actually read your mind.  

You nodded in agreement —you’re his girl, always — whimpering as one of his hands moved from your backside to roughly cup your breast; you felt the aged leather of the glove against your skin and realized he was all too clothed in comparison to your exposed form. Your dress had shifted to bunch around your waist as Din had pressed you into the wall, progressively revealing more and more of you to him. You reached out to grab his gloved hand, bringing it up from your chest and to your flushed face. He paused for a moment, waiting to see what you were doing; and then you brought his hand up to your soft mouth, gently biting down on his thumb and pulling the glove off with your teeth. The taste of gunpowder and leather lingered on your tongue, and there was some small piece of you that got a thrill from it. 

It had been an experimental move, one that you weren’t sure how he would respond to, but the groan that echoed through him shot your adrenaline and confidence sky high, knowing that you made that happen, knowing that you were giving him what he wanted. And although he had you pinned against the wall, you still tried valiantly to remove some of the layers that separated you — you needed to feel his skin against yours, needed to be able to kiss him all over, wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him in new ways. 

He took your cue and backed up slightly, allowing your chest the room to expand with much-needed deep breaths as he rushed to pry the armor and equipment off of himself, each thud and clang of beskar on the floor sending stronger and stronger waves of heat through your body; you wondered if this is what it was like to catch fire under the unforgiving suns of Tattooine. 

You heard something soft and distinctly not-beskar land next to the two of you, and assumed that he was finally beginning to work his way out of his underclothes. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and yanked him back towards you forcefully, needing to feel the heat of his body pressed against yours. You could feel the defined muscles of his abdomen, the assorted scars that scattered his frame, the broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms; you kissed down his neck and to his chest, biting down harshly and then soothing the area with your tongue, loving the way that he writhed and moaned against you as he held you against himself.  

Your hand moved down from the wide expanse of his shoulders to palm at the rock hard erection that was unfortunately still barricaded by Din’s pants; and as you curled your fingers around his cock, Din growled and gathered the sheer fabric of your dress in his hands, pulling it down rapidly and aggressively, leaving you to try and extricate your arms from the delicate straps before he ripped it entirely off of your body. Eventually shimmying yourself free of the dress that had blessedly remained intact, you felt the pile of tulle and sequins fall to your feet. You kicked the garment away from you, a subtle hint to make Din distinctly aware of how exposed you now were. You pulled at the rough utility fabric that concealed the lower half of his body, that concealed his throbbing erection that you so desperately needed to feel within you — and Din stepped out of the clothing, the two of you breathing heavily at the amount of skin to skin contact you now shared; you wondered if he had ever been this bare, this exposed, with anyone before. 

Although it was dark within the cabin of the ship, you knew each other’s bodies well, having spent several nights sleeping together, and your previous interactions during the shower having brought you closer than ever before. Your breath hitched in your throat as you had a sudden feeling of nervousness; you couldn’t understand why you were suddenly anxious, as this was something you had wanted for so long — but apparently you weren’t the only one with some nerves. Din’s breath shook as he pulled your body into his, whispering your name. “I don’t know that the bunk will be, ah... comfortable, or, you know, enough... space.” 

That was a fair consideration, remembering how close you slept next to him; it wouldn’t offer enough space for anything other than sleeping. 

An idea occurred to you; you leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, before you pulled away from his grasp, the chill of the cabin catching up with you as you crossed to retrieve the well-loved blankets from the bunk as you placed them onto the floor, creating a makeshift bed for the two of you. “Problem solved,” you whispered, grabbing his hand and guiding him onto the softened surface with suddenly confident steps. 

He laughed gently, and you could feel a smile working its way to his face as you kissed him. He swung you up into his arms with ease, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carefully brought both of your exposed and nude bodies down to the floor. You were acutely aware of how his muscles flexed and contracted as he held you closely, his sculpted and scarred body feeling incredible as it laid on the floor next to yours. Now, being able to effectively move and maneuver yourself around him, you were emboldened to try something you had never done before, feeling confident as your adventurous ideas had been well-received so far. 

Your soft and gentle hands pressed Din’s wide shoulders down into the unyielding floor and he complied, willing to let you have the control right now. You positioned yourself over his body so that your head was pointing in the direction of his feet, while you propped yourself up above his impressive, large frame on your palms, the arch of your back offering him a perfect view of how wet you were for him, damn near dripping onto his chest. He groaned explicitly as you bent forward to take his cock into your mouth, and you could feel the tension moving through his body as you took him deeper into your throat, your tongue swirling around him and tasting every exquisite, velvety inch of him. 

You were relieved when Din’s broad and calloused hands came up to rest firmly on your ass, understanding what you were needing from him, and he pulled your aching center down to his stubbled jawline, to allow his tongue to trace gently over your clit, finally offering you the pleasure and stimulation that you had been needing since Din had kissed you feverishly in the club. You felt your eyes roll back with a wash of pleasure and relief as he sucked gently on the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue across it in rhythmic circles, occasionally allowing his tongue to explore further into your body and enjoy all of the wetness you offered him — and you hummed in satisfaction against his thick cock, as you moved your mouth up and down his length, enjoying the wet sounds sounds it produced as you continually swallowed around him, loving the deep grunts and animalistic groans you received in response. The humming must’ve added some enjoyable stimulation for him, as you tasted his precum on your tongue; and then he slid two fingers into your tight cunt, working to open you up to be able to take the considerable length of his cock. You loved the deliciously wet and sloppy sounds that came from the two of you; your mouth, as you continuously drug your tongue along the underside of the cock that was hitting the back of your throat, and your pussy as Din finger-fucked you on the floor of the ship. 

He added a third finger to your tight entrance and you instinctively cried out at the stretching sensation, your body writhing as his thumb moved to tweak continuously over your clit with varying levels of pressure. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Din sighed with a laugh. “If you think three fingers is a lot, you’re in for a surprise.” His voice sounded like gravel, rough and breathy and cracking beneath you, sending you higher and higher with his cocky assessment. Well, you were never one to shy away from a challenge. 

You could feel the weight of your orgasm building within you, the heady and hot tension that had coiled at your center spreading its way out to your stomach, your thighs, threatening to break at any moment. Your muscles constricting, you chased that peak, that high, and your mouth slid off of Din’s cock as you gasped for air — “Din, fuck, Din, I’m gonna cu—“ 

And then he quickly pulled himself away from you, right as you were right there, and you cried out in exasperation and frustration at having been denied your orgasm; your entire body was screaming with anger and deprivation, and you felt as though you might shatter with all of the tension. 

His body moved away from underneath you as you came to rest against the makeshift bed of blankets, and in the dark, you had absolutely no idea what was going on or why he had done this to you. “Din, what the fuck?” You hissed angrily, your hands reaching out to try and grab him and bring him back to you. But then you suddenly felt two strong, familiar hands grasp your waist from behind, and you were abruptly yanked upwards by your waist and onto your knees, the blankets ruched up underneath you; the disorientation of the darkness was intimidating but also incredibly exciting — although you were still somewhat pissed at Din for his asshole move. 

You were on all fours, desperately waiting for Din to do something, anything. 

“Look at my pretty girl, waiting so nicely for me.” 

You felt Din’s muscled thighs and his thick cock press up against your exposed backside; you were able to determine that he was on his knees behind you. You whined in anticipation, not minding the hint of desperation that crept in with it. 

“Gods, look at you. Fucking dripping wet, making a mess for me. Is that all for me, sweet girl?” He hmmed confidently, dipping his finger inside of you and bringing your wetness up to his mouth for a taste. “Bet you’re just dying to take this cock, to cum on it for me, aren’t you?”

You whined once more, a small, needy sound that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so desperately wanting to cum after your earlier denial; your muscles still quaked and tensed as you hovered right on that edge. You pressed your ass further back into him, trying to get some sort of stimulation against your aching cunt, but Din just cupped your ass and pressed your shoulders down into the floor; you felt the wool blanket against your cheek as you writhed against him in frustration. 

“Please,” you whispered. 

“Please... what?” There was a somewhat maniacal edge to his voice and you felt a thrill of anticipation shudder through you. 

“Din, please!”

“Please what?” His voice cut through you like steel. 

You could feel the blunt and swollen head of his cock pressed against your throbbing entrance, and fuck, while you didn’t want to beg you couldn’t help it any longer, the unyielding desperation coursing hotly through you as you just gave in to what Din wanted. “Fuck, Din — please, please fuck me, please let me cum for you —“ 

A satisfied chuckle coming from deep within his chest, Din finally pressed forward into you with a ragged, shaking moan — and the resulting moan that came from your body echoed his own, as he buried himself impossibly deep into your tight and soaking cunt, while effectively pinning your shoulders to the floor and rendering you immobile. You had thought you would be prepared for the sheer size of him, the girth, the length that you had taken in your mouth and throat, but it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before — he really had been right in saying that three fingers wouldn’t compare. 

For a brief moment you wondered if you would even be able to take all of him inside you — and your question was quickly answered as he pulled back from you, dragging his cock along your inner walls, before his hips snapped forward to slam into you with a shocking and devastatingly incredible force. Feeling his cock sink deeper and deeper into you, your body offered little resistance to this pleasure as you cried out at the stretching and filling sensation, hurting but in a good way that just made you crave him even more. 

Din’s hands found their place along the bend of your hips as he pushed and pulled your willing body into his; and with each thrust forward penetrating you even deeper, you felt the edges of your mind starting to go white-hot with pleasure once more. You reveled in the sounds he made, needy and wanting, loving that he wasn’t one to shy away from letting you know just how fucking incredible this felt for him, too. 

This was unlike anything you had ever experienced with a man before, Din was unlike anything else in this galaxy, and you knew that even if you spent a hundred years with him you would never get enough of this feeling — the feeling of his throbbing, veined cock dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting spots inside of you that you never even knew existed. You could feel the ever-increasing slickness of your cunt that allowed for him to slide in and out of you repeatedly, while the lower half of your body started to constrict with that same heat of pleasure that he had ripped away from you just moments ago — but that didn’t matter anymore, you had no room for grudges as he completely filled both your body and mind. 

He said your name over and over, the sound spilling from his lips like a prayer, like a curse, like a promise — and you reveled in the sheer adoration of each utterance that tumbled from him. You wished that you could give him the same verbal adoration and praise that he offered you, but you were completely incapable of doing anything except making lewd, high-pitched, unintelligible sounds that echoed and radiated through the walls of the ship, becoming more desperate with each powerful thrust into your clenching and tight cunt. 

“Gods, I knew you’d take my cock so f-fucking good, look at that — such a pretty girl, such a g-good girl — fucking knew you’d feel incredible from the m-moment I saw you, wanted to fucking split you in half on my cock —“ 

The praise and dirty words Din offered you tickled a previously-repressed, unexplored part of yourself and after this awakening you wanted more of it. Seeking out that praise and reinforcement, you decided to take back some control in this situation and initiate something more — Din had you fairly well pinned against the floor, his hips ramming his cock into you relentlessly, but you were able to shift your arms in a way that allowed for you to reach around the back of your thighs and spread yourself open even further for him. Your movement caught him off guard as his hips snapped into yours forcefully, his cock penetrating so far into you that you thought you may never recover from it — and the force of his thrust collapsed both of your bodies into the floor as a guttural fuck escaped from him. 

You felt his broad chest and the heaviness of his frame crushing you into the floor, but you didn’t mind, loving the pressure of his full body weight against you while his cock was buried inside you so deeply that you could feel him twitching inside of you, could feel each beat of his heart pulsating through his body. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he gasped, pushing himself up off of your body and off of the floor. “I don’t know what the fuck you just did, but I’m going to need you to do that again for me.” 

You grinned, somewhat delirious from all of the stimulation and physical sensations you had experienced here on this makeshift bed. And yet for all of the wonderful, amazing, beautiful things you had felt — you still hadn’t cum, and your very skin felt as though it was crawling with a fire that left you aching with every second that passed by. You wanted to cum, wanted Din to make you cum; and you wanted to make him cum in return, giving each other the release and bliss you had been wanting since your first meeting on Chandrila. If you were to tell the truth, you’d tell Din that you had wanted him from the very first day, even though you had fought so hard to quell those feelings. 

You couldn’t see well in the darkness that shrouded the cabin — couldn’t see anything, to be honest — but you could feel your hands connect with Din’s shoulders and you shoved him back down onto the floor, appreciating his willingness to follow your lead. Your hands traced gently down his body, feeling every hard line and ridge of him, feeling every scar, and loving every inch of him that he had allowed you to see, at least in this way. You swung your legs over his waist and positioned yourself above him, guiding his thick and still-wet cock back inside of your tight and enveloping cunt; the two of you gasped at the sudden, clenching contact and rush of adrenaline, and you began to ride him in earnest, loving the sound of your skin slapping against his as you crashed into him over and over and over again. 

“Gods, you just love it when I ride your thick cock like this, don’t you, Din?” You said with a malicious grin, hoping to draw out the same kind of dirty words he had given you earlier. “Just falling apart for me so easy—“

“Fuck, yes, I do love it my sweet —“ He choked out, his hands finding their way up your body and coming to rest at your breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples with his rough touch. “Love watching that tight pussy take my cock, love how you feel on me, love how you taste — you’re just so fucking incredible—”

“Show me how much you love it,” you challenged, an edge creeping into your voice. “Cum for me.” 

His groans turned into irregular grunts of pleasure as he moved to hold your body in place, restricting your movements as he fucked up into you, sounds spilling forth from him. “Believe me, I will cum for you — I’ll cum inside that sweet, perfect pussy. But you’re gonna cum for me first, sweet girl.” 

Din’s threat— or promise, depending on your perspective — echoed through you and a crashing tidal wave of need threatened to collapse your chest and inhibit your very breathing. Your body was positively aching with tension and strain now, your muscles screaming out in exhaustion — you needed to cum, you needed the release, you needed to fall over that peak and then rest next to Din. “Yes, please, please, please,” you cried, each word becoming more and more deranged and desperate than the last. 

“Tell me what you need, sweet girl,” Din panted roughly, continuing to hold your shaking body in place as he fucked into you relentlessly. 

You weren’t sure what you needed except more of Din, and you didn’t even know how to ask for that as he was clearly giving you everything he had, thrusting up into you and offering up each and every groan of pleasure that your pussy wrung from him. More. You just needed more. 

“Kiss me, Din Djarin.” 

He laughed softly and you could hear the smile in it; for all of the dirty words and debased, debauched actions, this sweetness was what you wanted and what you needed. He pulled your body in close to his, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before rolling the two of you over so you were now laying against the blankets. His cock never left your center, even in the transition; and then his hands brought your legs up to rest on his shoulders and he began drilling into you with an unholy force, crumpling your body in half with each thrust as he bent downwards to kiss you. He was panting and you could feel a bead of sweat drip from his forehead as he worked to get you there, fighting off his own orgasm, needing to get you there first. 

As his lips pressed repeatedly into your soft and hot flesh, you could feel it coming on; that tense and aching heat coiled within you, your back arched up from the floor, and your hands rose up to pull Din in closer to you, gripping his hair forcefully. You couldn’t see anything in the blackness of the ship but your vision was changing regardless, as your body readied itself to jump from that cliff, giving you the release you needed. “Din—“ you gasped out, your muscles constricting. 

“Yes, yes, cum for me sweet girl — wanna feel you cum on my cock,” Din grunted, thrusting into you with each word. He leaned in to kiss you once more and it was everything you needed. 

It felt as though a seismic charge went off inside the small ship, your muscles contracting and quaking as your body was taken over by wave after wave of undulating pleasure. Your skin felt like it was vibrating at a new frequency, each nerve ending heightened and feeling overstimulated as you cried out in unintelligible but unmistakeable pleasure. Your cunt clenched around Din’s cock, spasming with each new wave of pleasure that overtook your body. 

Din snarled at the feeling of you clenching and coming undone around him and you knew that he was close; you drug your nails against his scalp, his hair tangling between your fingers, and you leaned up to gently capture his earlobe between your teeth, tugging slightly. “Want you to cum for me, Din. Want you to cum inside me.” 

The rapid movements of his hips became increasingly irregular until you felt the heat of his release within you, his body collapsing on top of yours as he inhaled deep and ragged breaths, you could feel him shaking on top of you, could feel his muscles and his cock twitching as he was lost to the overwhelming pleasure of his orgasm. Hot ropes of Din’s cum coursed through your pulsing and throbbing cunt, coating you and filling you in a way that made you writhe in pleasure and self-satisfaction; you couldn’t help but think of the way you’d be left dripping from him, a mix of both of your orgasms coating you in a messy, magnificent bliss. When he finally pulled away from your feverish and trembling body, you felt the mix of fluids cascading down your thighs in a way that almost made you want to climb on top of him again. 

You were both left entirely breathless, every ounce of energy spent in giving the other what they needed and had been denied for so long. Din’s body rolled off of yours, allowing you to breathe deeply and you inhaled lungfuls of cool air, quieting the fire that coursed through your body. His chest taking deep and ragged breaths, he pulled you in close to his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as he sighed and kissed every inch of exposed skin that he could reach. You were utterly wrecked, entirely devastated, and more blissfully happy than you ever could have imagined you could be. 

This life was turning into everything that you had ever wanted, and feared you would never get. You felt tears of happiness pricking at the corner of your eyes, and you smiled into Din’s chest, never wanting to leave this moment. 

He must’ve felt the tears that had slipped out and onto him; bringing your face up to his, his hand cradling your cheek gently, he kissed your forehead. “Sweet girl, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you whispered, a brilliant grin spreading across your face. “Everything is perfect. You’re perfect. This life here, with you, is perfect.” 

You would later blame it on the rush of dopamine and oxytocin, but truth be told, you could no longer deny the truth to either yourself or to Din. Feeling emboldened and safe in this space with him, the truth tumbled forward from your lips, unable to be concealed any longer. 

“I love you, Din Djarin.” 

It felt beautiful and exhilarating to speak it out loud, to acknowledge the truth of your feelings. You didn’t even necessarily need for Din to say it back; that’s how secure you felt in this moment, in this feeling of love. You would love him endlessly, would love him through hell or high waters, would love him whether you were right next to him or lightyears away. You couldn’t hold back the truth, and nor did you want to. You loved Din Djarin, more than you had ever loved anything in existence, and while it was exhilaratingly terrifying, it also felt like the safest, most comforting thing in this galaxy. 

And  it was a whole new kind of bliss that was revealed to you when he spoke to you in response.

“And I love you.” 

[babeyvenus]

The Wolf Among Us

Bigby x OC

Summary: Sonya Blaze, A.K.A. Hell Rider, is a half fable, half mundy girl who comes to Fabletown to learn more about her side of the folktales. She works alongside Sheriff Bigby Wolf's as his newest partner and together they strive to find out who's behind the unexpected murders in Fabletown.

TW: Mentions of death, gore/blood, alcohol, smoking drugs, sex implications, suicide, guns and ofc language.

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Chapter 8: Puddin' N' Pie

Sonya looked up at the purple, pink and red neon light of the street signs they passed. It was bright, but each wave of light made her sleepier. She nearly dozed off before the cab came to a halt. The bright neon light of a sign came into view. The Puddin’ n’ Pie.

Both her and the Sheriff got out of the vehicle and approached a woman who came out from the shadows of the dark alleyway with a curious smile. Her short blonde hair was a light purple thanks to the neon signs that brightened the area. Sonya paid attention to a specific thing that made her stick out. A purple ribbon….

“Sheriff and Miss ?” Sonya sighed. “Just call me Sonya, please.”, she says. The blonde woman smiled. “What a pleasant surprise. I’m not sure I’ve seen you two here before.”

Bigby wanted to sigh out a huff. “You’re always welcome, of course.”, she says, then gives them a sly smile. “Is it business? Or pleasure?

The question makes Sonya’s eyes widen. “I’m a friend... of Georgie’s.”, Bigby says, quickly. “Where is he?” The woman narrows her eyes as she raises her eyebrow, folding her arms. “A friend, huh?” Sonya frowns at Bigby. Nice going.

“You’re in luck,” she says, giving them a smile. “He’s here. Come on.” She turns and leads them to a side door entrance, pushing a key into the lock before hesitating, and giving them a glance, sighing. “I should warn you that Georgie doesn’t like to be bothered when he’s working. And... he’s in kind of a mood right now.”

“Welcome to the Puddin’ and Pie,” she announced, presenting the place. “Where we cater to the diverse tastes of the Fable community. Your pleasure is our pleasure. Your desires are our desires. Your imagination is the menu, and discretion is our guarantee.”

“It’ll be fine,” Bigby reassures, with a smile. “I have a way with people.”

Sonya snorts, earning a glare from him.

“So, I’ve heard.”, the girl says, turning the door handle and moving inside. They follow her into the building. Sonya looks around shyly at all the sexual posters.

Bigby raised his eyebrows, looking around and stayed quiet. The further they went, the more your ears heard the booming music coming from the last room. They eventually came to the larger part of the bar. Sonya’s eyes widened at all the pink/purple color scheme they had.

Stepping out from behind Bigby’s back, she caught the sight of a man fussing at a barely clothed woman. Sonya looked away from the girl and paid attention to the floor.

“Aw, fuck’s sake,” the man growled, unimpressed. “What do you think you’re doing? You look like you’re trying to take a shit! Who’s gonna want that? No one’s gonna want that!”

Bigby looked at her blankly. She wishes them good luck, and then leaves. Bigby looks at Sonya as she looks back. He rolls his eyes before he sighs, making her smile. Bigby walks towards Georgie, and she follows. She took note of a tall blond man cleaning silently. “Hey.”, Bigby calls, gruffly. The man who glares at Bigby, Georgie, rolls his eyes. “Oh, it’s you,” he dismissed, “We’re closed.”

Sonya scoffs at the man’s criticisms. What an asshole…

Bigby interrupts her thoughts. “Nice guy.”, Bigby mumbles. “You do have a sense of humor,” the woman compliments with a smirk. “That’s good.”

When Bigby crosses his arms, Georgie shakes his head, “For fuck’s sake…”, and stops the music. “You stay right there,” he ordered, pointing to the girl on stage, who looks increasingly shy and uncomfortable. It made Sonya feel bad. “Don’t even think about sitting down. We’re not finished.”

Sonya frowned at his comment. Georgie finally made eye contact with her, his smirk widens. “Oh, you just need some meat. Suits you. This your new Little Red?” Both her and Bigby glared at him. “I must say, I didn’t take you for the type to lower your standards.” Bigby growls. “Georgie, enough. I’m not here for that,” Bigby states angrily.

“Leave her alone, asshole.”, Bigby growled, standing in front of Georgie. “Sure,” Georgie replies, with a smirk. “Whatever you say.”

He leans forward in his chair, making himself more comfortable. “What do you want then? You here for a little taste? Tell you what. Come back after midnight, maybe. I can hook you up,” he winks, and thinks for a moment. “Or, knowing you, she’s probably not quite your style.” Georgie made a pointed nod towards the girl on stage.

“Okay, alright, Sheriff,” George rolls his eyes. “Just fucking with you. Look, I know why you’re here.” Bigby shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”, Bigby asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Ooh, ‘I’m not here for that’.”, Georgie mocks Bigby, laughing. “Just stopped in for the chips, then? Jesus, Bigby, you’re so corny. I love it, though. No, seriously. I love it.”

Bigby closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, making Sonya place a hand on his back.

“Listen, Sheriff, around here, we can’t afford to wait for you and your swarky pals to take an interest,” Georgie says, “we have to look out for each other. When shit happens, I hear about it. Especially if it concerns my livelihood.”

Bigby crosses his arms, “In that case, I assume you knew Lily was glamoured?”, Bigby asks, with a smile.

“You know, it’s illegal to impersonate another Fable.”, Bigby warns, leaning in. “It’s frowned upon.”, Georgie argues. “It’s illegal as long as I don’t like it,”, Bigby counters. “The thirteenth floor would never provide a glamor like that. It’s strictly black-market stuff.”

“Of course she was, you daft git,” Georgie replies, “She was a troll.” Sonya facepalmed.

“No,” Bigby sighed. “I mean glamoured to look like another Fable.” Georgie shrugs. “Yeah? Well, so what?”, Georgie dismissed. “Who gives a toss? People get up to all kinds of things when nobody’s watching.”

Bigby raised his eyebrows with a dull expression on his face and pulled something from his pocket. It’s the glamour tube that they found earlier on Lily’s body. “Nothing to back it up, huh?”, Bigby asks sarcastically, shoving the tube in Georgie’s face. “What the fuck is this, then?”

“OOoohh,” Georgie mocks. “Strictly black market, is it? How exciting! This is exactly what I would expect from a thug like you. Storm in, throw around a bunch of accusations, try to scare people, but you’ve got fuck all to back it up."

Georgie huffs. “And we’re just all meant to jump any time the wolf shows his teeth.”

Georgie looks away, refusing to look at it. “Get that out of my face.”

Bigby frowns, “We found it on Lily’s body, and it’s definitely tly a back-alley job. Where did she get it?”

“She had clients, Bigby. Maybe one of them was into it. Lot of fucked up people in Fabletown.”

“You’ve got this all wrong,” Georgie explains, “If Lily was doing a special glamour, it wasn’t for me. For fuck’s sake, you think I want that kind of heat?”

Sonya sighs and looks up at the girl. They make eye contact until the girl looks away. “Who was she doing it for then?”, Bigby interrogates.

Georgie resumed the music by pressing play on his boombox. “Go on then!” he orders the girl, who had been standing silently on the platform. She looks embarrassed and shy, but starts to dance once more.

“Like who?”, Bigby asked. “Try looking in a mirror.” Sonya looks at Georgie, “You’re one to talk.”

Georgie frowns but then smirks again. “Anyway,” he finishes, “its got naught to do with me.”

Bigby looks between them, then at Sonya. She looked at him with a tired, frustrated expression. That seemed to be enough for Bigby, as he's had enough of Georgie. He made a move to shut the music off himself. Georgie stood, and went to take a swing at Bigby. He tripped backwards over himself and caused his boombox to fall onto the floor and break.

The music instantly stopped and Georgie let out a string of profanities, making Sonya snicker as she slipped away. Sonya took that chance to walk up the stage and took off her hoodie to give to the girl.

Georgie growled as he stomped like a child. “You!”, he yells, pointing at Sonya, “Get off the damn stage! And you!”, he pointed at the half clothed girl. “Take your sad fucking face where I can’t see it!”

The girl is quick to do as she’s told, rushing off stage. Sonya watches her disappear into a room before getting down. “Are you proud of yourself, mate?”, Georgie sneers at Bigby, “Proud of your little mess?” He bends down to pick up the boombox.

A tall and muscular blonde man from before comes up to him. “Fuck off, Hans,” Georgie sneered, shoving the boombox into the man’s chest. The blonde man does what he’s told, carrying the boombox away from the commotion.

“Hold on a minute,” Bigby calls after the man. “Hans, is it?” The man nods. “Hans just cleans up and provides a little muscle when we need it,” Georgie explains, annoyed. “He’s not gonna know anything about the girls and their clients or any of that. No one knows, don’t you get it? It’s by design. ”Discretion is our guarantee”, right?”

Georgie walks towards the bar. Bigby follows him and crosses his arms. Georgie continues, “And the way we guarantee that is that no one knows anything they don’t have to know. Including me. I cover my eyes and take my cut. End of story.”

“Why not look it up?” Hans suddenly interjects. All three of them turned their heads to look at him, Georgie glaring at him more than anything. “What’s that?”, Bigby asks.

“There is no book,” Georgie shuts him down, immediately before turning to the taller man. “And as for you, Hans, we need to work on your communication skills, and I’ve a fairly good idea where to start.” Georgie picks up a baseball bat that had been laying on the countertop of the bar.

“Isn’t there a little book with all the stuff about the girls and all that written in it?” Hans questions.

“A book?”, Sonya asks. “You’re a fucking moron!”, Georgie shouts at him. “Show me,” Bigby demands, coming to Georgie.

Bigby quickly snatched it away from him. “Hey!” Georgie complains, “That’s my personal property!” Sonya gets in front of Georgie. “He wouldn’t have said anything if this book never existed.”

Bigby moves Sonya behind him before he slams the baseball bat down on the bar, giving Georgie a look. Georgie scoffs a laugh. “Sure, go ahead. Do what comes naturally,”, he said, crossing his arms.

Bigby gives Georgie a smug look as he slides the bat along the bar slowly, taking everything that had been on the countertop along with it. Glasses slowly roll off the counter, shattering on the floor. Bigby stops just before the boombox, and smiles at Georgie. “Tell me about the book,” Bigby says.

“You haven’t got the slightest clue about anything,” Georgie answers. “That’s kinda why we asked questions…”, Sonya mutters. Bigby places the bat over his shoulder, walking towards Georgie, and backs him against a cigarette dispenser.

“Hey now,” Georgie begins, a little nervously. Bigby gives him a smile, “Tell me about this book.” Georgie frowns deeply and moves behind the bar as Bigby follows. Bigby glances at the TV, feeling smug. “Don’t even think about it,” Georgie warns.

“Look, Georgie, why don’t you just tell me where the book is?”, Bigby reasons, with a wolfish grin. Sonya huffs in frustration. “Can we please not go round and round about this?” Georgie complains, “there is no book.”

Bigby places his foot on top of a standing keg, and tips it ever so slightly with a whistle, glancing at Georgie, tapping the baseball bat into one palm.

“Do NOT touch that. You hear me?” Georgie warns. Bigby frowns. “Give me the book.” He moves his foot but something catches his eye. Sonya follows his gaze, seeing a small hatch within the tiled floor. A floor safe.

“Well, well, well,” Bigby states, hummed, pleased. “What’s this? Looks like a floor safe.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Georgie denies, “It was here when we moved in. I don’t have a key to it. Sheriff, will you come on? Fuck’s sake, I’ve gotta open in a few hours!”

Bigby simply glares at the smaller man, “Give it to me.”, he says, before moving closer to Georgie. “You’re a big bad bastard. We get it. Everyone’s guilty. We fucking get it,” Georgie begs, stepping backwards. “Jesus, you’re killing me! I’m begging you – I'll pay you!”

"We don't want your dirty money.", Sonya says, walking over to the DJ booth, squatting next to a power outlet, and lights her finger on fire, surprising both of the men. "We want answers."

Bigby simply gives him a look, turning away, resting the bat on his shoulders while he walks toward Sonya.

She brings her finger awfully close to the cord that powered the booth. “Leave it,” he warns, “there’s nothing there for you!”, he shouts at Sonya.

She glared at him as he got close. “Georgie, so help me–! Tell us where the damn book is or I’m burning this shit to ashes.”, she demanded. “Alright!” Georgie yells, giving up as he rummages through a small box. “Fucking unbelievable.” He finds a key. “Fucking come on then.”

Bigby smiled at her as she stood up. She gave him a thumbs up as they walked back to the floor safe.

Bigby follows him to the floor safe, watching Georgie open it up. Inside there was a roll of cash, and the supposed book. Georgie pulls the book from the safe and shoves the book into Bigby’s chest.

Bigby moves to the bar, placing the book down and flipping through the pages. It appears to have logs of the names of the girls and their past customers. “Here.”, Bigby states, pointing at a page. “This is Lily’s last entry. So, tell me Georgie, who’s this ‘Mister Smith’?”

Georgie folds his arms and leans back against the bar. “Oh dear. I’m afraid it might be a fake name, Bigby. Secrecy is sort of how this whole thing works. Even Hans knows that.”, he says, sarcastically. “What’s 207?” , Sonya asks, pointing where Bigby’s finger is. “A room number?”

She looks back at Bigby who glares at Georgie and sneaks away into the door. She looked around before walking inside. She notices a note, coins and a compact makeup mirror on the floor. She cleans up the floor and picks up a letter.

“I don’t fucking know. Millimetres maybe?” Georgie replies sarcastically. “Don’t bullshit me, Georgie.”, Bigby growls. “This is YOUR book. YOUR girls.”

Sonya sighs, noticing a door being cracked open.

“But I’m not their fucking secretary. ”, she hears Georgie argue back. “I give them a stage, I give them music. I provide ‘an erotic venue to attract and retain clients’. But let’s be clear on something, the girls make the arrangements with the clients. Not me. The girls. They’re the ones with the Mister Smiths, and Joneses and Mister X types. Whatever happens outside the club, that’s on them. I log the business, take my cut, and I’m out. Now,” he reaches under the bar and pulls out a phone. “I’ve had quite enough of you and your bullying. Excuse me while I call your superiors to make a complaint.”

Bigby rolls his eyes, standing up straight and looks around for Sonya. She peeks out of the door and beckons him to follow her while Georgie was on the phone so he can file a complaint. He comes over to the door, walking inside. “What’s up?”, Bigby asks quietly. She gives him the note.

“Faith,” he read, giving her a worried look that she returned. “Thanks for covering for me tonight. Let’s talk before you go over to the apartment. Lily.”

“I heard you out there,” she says, looking towards Bigby. “I don’t remember ever seeing you two here before.”

“Looks like they both saw one of Lily’s clients...”, Sonya mutters. He reads it again and places it in the cubby for Faith.

She peeks around the corner, holding a hand up to Bigby before seeing the girl from before, now completely dressed. “Hi.”, she waves, walking over to the deflated girl. Bigby followed behind her and stayed back.

“Somebody else said the exact same thing.” Bigby replies. “We’re just new to this part of town.”, Sonya says. “I guess we’re all surprised,” the girl says, bringing her lipstick up and reapplying it on her lips. She looks at the hoodie Sonya gave her and hands it to her. “Thank you, by the way.”

Sonya smiled, taking it back. “You’re welcome.” She noticed Bigby scanning her expressions. “You’re trying to place me,” she said, catching him off guard. “They used to call me The Little Mermaid.”

“Of course you do.” Nerissa sighs. “I don’t have answers. You’ll have to find those yourself.”

Sonya’s eyes widened. Ariel…!?’

She asks, “Your legs... are they glamoured?”

The girl looks at her in the mirror, and frowns a little. “No, They’re real. Do you like them? They cost me a lot.” Sonya rubbed behind her neck, looking down.

“My name is Nerissa.”, she says, making Sonya raise her head. “Well, Nerissa,” Bigby says, “We’ve got some questions.”

“Does the number 207 mean anything to you?”, Bigby asks. “I assumed it was a room number. But where?”

“What is up with that phrase?,” Bigby asked, in frustration. “What does it mean?”

“We can’t talk about work.”, Nerissa says. He crosses his arms. “This is a murder case,” Bigby reminds. “I mean CAN’T,” Nerissa emphasizes. “These lips are sealed. Discretion is our guarantee. It’s how things work here.”

Georgie's words repeated in Sonya's mind. "Discretion is our guarantee."

Bigby pulls the book from his pocket and walks up to Nerissa. He slams the book on the table, already open to the page, and points. “This is what I need to know about!”, he says. “Lily’s last entry. Who’s Mr Smith? Where is room 207? I have to know!”

Her tone made Bigby hesitant until he caught onto what she was trying to do. “...Okay... What would I need to do?” Nerissa takes the book, grabbed her lilac pen and writes in it. “I need a hundred and fifty. It’s not good to be short.”

“These... lips...”, Nerissa whimpers, making Sonya glare at him for being so aggressive.

“Bigby.”, she warns, making him turn to her. She gives him a look with narrowed eyes. Nerissa asks, “Sheriff Wolf, would you like to make an... appointment... with me?”

Bigby reaches into his pocket and pulls a wad of cash. Sonya’s eyes widened at it. “Wait here for a second,” Nerissa says, standing and walking to the door of the room. They waited for a brief moment, before she walked back to the room.

Bigby pocketed the book and turned to Sonya, giving her a shrug. Nerissa returns with what looks like a room key. She places it carefully in Bigby’s hand. The room key number is engraved 204.

“Not 207?”, Bigby asks. “You’ll think of something,” Nerissa replies, rubbing one arm. “The Open Arms,” Bigby reads on the key. “This is where they met.”

“Enjoy your stay,” Nerissa wishes. “I hope you find what you’re looking for...” With that she walked through the door and back out to the bigger section of the club. Bigby glances down at the key in his hand.

Sonya looks at it then looks up at him. “You gonna find out where this place is?” He nodded. “I don’t think its too far from here.”

They walked out of the bar, looking up at the sky. “I can’t help but wonder if we’re getting any closer or farther.”, Sonya says.

Bigby looked at her. “We’re gonna solve this. I promise.” Sonya looked at him, her tired eyes meeting his. She gives him a smile. “I believe you. I’m behind you every step of the way.”

That lifted his heart to know someone was supportive of him, outside of Snow, that is. Even then, he wasn’t too sure. She waved down a cab, walking to the curb. The cab pulls up and just before Sonya gets in, Bigby speaks up. “Hey.” She turned to him. “Yeah?” He hesitated and sighed. “Be careful. Please.”

She smiled, walked up to him and hugged him. He stiffened, shocked at the affection but puts an arm around her. “I’ll see you later. I promise. You just do what you need and we can get this done.”, she says, before pulling away. “You stay safe. I’ll be with Snow at the funeral.”

She climbs in the cab and Bigby watches the vehicle pull off and drive away.