#the person I will become in less than 24 hours is between me and a god

[dark-elf-writes]

Literally vibrating because the vengeance saga livestream is TONIGHT and then after that it will be basically midnight which means DRAGON AGE and whjskdodndbhdjdndnsbd

Not one of you is going to hear me shut up tonight and I am so sorry

[samkerrworshipper]

movin’ out

keira walsh x reader

i wrote a fic that isn’t super depressing or smut? sorry? it’s short, it’s a little bit funky and definitely not my normal style but it’s all i could piece together atm! i don’t think it’s technically a blurb but close enough! enjoy xo

warnings: none?

It’s been too long.

It’s all you can say or think the moment you see Keira.

Between you playing in England, her in Barcelona and then you playing for Australia and her playing for England the time you two can find together is so limited. Face times, constant texts and midnight calls are good for a couple of days, sometimes weeks but after months it becomes nowhere near enough to sustain a relationship. It’s the pains and trials associated with two professional athletes being in a relationship with each other, the disconnection was hard and the added hundreds of miles between you only made it harder.

You hadn’t realised how long it had been though, and just how much of a toll that might have started to take on your partner. Between the both of you playing a mid week game and then training every day in the lead up to weekend games you both hardly had enough time to make dinner and make room for your basic needs, let alone care from each other afar.

As you look at Keira now though, you’re really having second thoughts about the lack of check ins that you’ve been having with her and the amount of interactions you’ve been having that haven’t solely revolved around football.

“Hey baby.”

Keira looks ill, and not in the sick way, just her general features. She just looks unwell, like she hasn’t been sleeping at all, like she’s on the brink of a emotional breakdown and just generally miserable. You’d offered to pick her up from the airport but she’d denied your offer and you can see why now, she looks like she’s in tatters and is about to collapse in front of you.

“Hey.”

Every syllable is deflated, like she’s struggling to piece together the energy to move her lips.

You’ve known for a while now that Keira hasn’t been happy in Barcelona. Lucy leaving had been.. it had been tough. On top of the rest of the midfield finally being in good fitness and there being a lot less familiarity for Kei it was understandable that your girlfriend would be struggling, you just hadn’t understood how much.

You push her suitcase to the side in favour of bringing her straight into your arms. The way her hands cling to your jumper makes your heart thump.

“Hey baby, I’ve got you.”

You immediately feel sick with the guilt over the fact that tomorrow you have to leave, that you have a sweet twenty four hours to try and fix whatever this problem is before you are obligated to get on a flight and fly 20 hours further away. Your stomach actually hurts at the thought, here you are with your long distance girlfriend holding onto you like you’re her lifeline and your going to be dragged away in less than 24 hours.

“Let’s go to the couch huh? Get you off your feet.”

It’s phrased as a question but really you have no intention of standing in the entryway of your house for a minute longer. You lead Keira into your living room slowly, pulling her onto your couch with you and letting the slightly shorter woman to ragdoll on top of you. You don’t mind the cllinginess, it’s a far cry from how she is with almost every other human and to know that for the most part you are the only person who gets to see this side of Keira is special.

“Arsenal put in an offer.”

It wasn’t exactly public knowledge, Leah had told you though a couple of weeks ago when it had happened, you’d been a little bit dissapointed that Keira hadn’t told you when it was happening.

“I know.”

A part of you didn’t want to hear that Keira didn’t want to come, that she’d denied the offer. It was the part of you that still felt insecure about your relationship slightly.

“They told me, management. They didn’t even think about it. Even after i’d told them I was interested in coming back, that I wanted to come back to England. A million dollars and they turned it down.”

You take a deep breath, whilst Keira had made it clear to you that she wasn’t happy in Barcelona that hadn’t directly translated in your mind to her wanting to come to England or Arsenal.

“You wnat to come, to arsenal?”

Keira looks up at you and you get a good look in her eyes for the first time since she walked through the door fifteen minutes ago.

“England first and foremost, but Arsenal with you and Leah would be ideal. Not that it seems like it’s going to happen until my contract is up.”

You smile at Keira big and wide, there hasn’t been a point in your career yet where you’ve been in the same city, she was at Manchester and you were in America, then you moved to Arsenal and there was a period of 3 months where you were finally in the same country. Then it was Barcelona and the drift had started again. The idea of having Keira in the same city as you, potentially in the same house makes you giddy. But that’s all it it, a thought, because it’s not real and you’re in the same predicament of her being in camp for the next two weeks and then flying back to Barcelona before you’re back in the country.

“That would be nice.”

You purposely murmur it as quietly as possible.

“Yeah, would be nice.”

The reality is that for both of you there is no point in dreaming about more, dreaming only leads to let downs, big soul crushing let downs.

“You’ve just gotta gold on, you’ve got Kika and Ellie and Aitana, you just need to hold onto the people you have and make the most of it. You’re winning silverware at least?”

When the sound of a sniffle falls against you, your heart only clenches more.

“I want to be here, I want to be with you, not trying to find any spare minute in my schedule so that we can see each other for a second. I’m sick of always feeling like we have to make up for lost time, I want to live with you. Get our own dog, our own home, have our things, our own lives together instead of living separately.”

You nod against your girlfriends fluff of curly orange hair, it’s not often that it’s as puffy as it is, it’s only another sign to add to the list of how Keira must be feeling.

“You know, I really like that idea.”

You focus on Kei’s hair, undoing it from the makeshift bun it’s in and tangling your hair in the roots, carding your fingers through the ends and working up to her scalp.

“Just you and me, all the time, no more constant face time, surprise visits, rewatching games, coordinating schedules. Just you and me. It’s a good dream.”

That’s the thing, it can’t be anything more than a dream for either of you, in theory it would be lovely, amazing even. But dreaming is what gives the biggest disappointments.

“Maybe more than a dream.”

You ndo to satisfy Kei, because the last thing she needs on top of her own struggles and doubt right now is yours on top of it. But in your mind it just doesn’t work out, how can you expect it to work out when realistically the both of you are always going to prioritise your careers. It’s why you’ve both worked together so well, because there hasn’t been any mistranslations about the fact that you both are always going to prioritise your careers. It’s why in your head it doesn’t make sense that Keira would leave, she’s playing at the best club in the world, she’s at the highest level she could possibly be. A part of you is slightly insecure that her priorities are shifting, and it feels good but it’s also scary. You aren’t anywhere near to shifting away from your priorities, it’s been decided since you’ve been 12 that football was going to be the one love of your life. There were never boyfriends or girlfriends or plans to have kids or go to university, it was always just football. Keira had been the one flaw in the plan, but it wasn’t a true flaw. Keira made things easier, or as easy as they could be. It was just so natural that it was just all cohesive. The distance was hard but it was what made it easier to focus on your career, there wasn’t any direct distractions in your life.

“Maybe.”

There’s a big part of you that worries that you might not be able to sustain a relationship that’s not long distance because you’ve never had to. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up next to a person and then get ready for football and prepare for a fame. Sure, over the summer you spend every waking moment with Keira, but normally there is a tournament or you’re so focused on relaxing in the little down time you have that having Keira around is just an afterthought. What you have, the love and affection from a far and occasionally for a couple of days is what’s been perfect for you, the thought of having it as a constant is terrifying.

“I invited Leah over later, I assumed you’d want to see her before camp and you’re surrounded by everyone else.”

Keira peeks up at you, her eyes wide and suddenly brimming with tears. The blue in her eyes is so much clearer when their wet, it’s like it reflects directly off of the features of her face.

“I’ll be with Leah for the next two weeks.”

The underlying tone is very clear.

“Well, I’ll never say no to a night with my favourite girl. How about thai and the love island episodes we haven’t watched on facetime together?”

You know you’ve said the right thing when Keira’s face immediately lights up, but after a few seconds it dims and all of the energy that seemed restored fades.

“I don’t want to disappoint Leah. every time I’m here it’s to see you, which I love but when she comes to Barcelona she always spends it with me.”

You lean down and plant a kiss to her forehead.

“Leah is not going to be offended that you choose to spend the little time you have with me, like I said, you have two weeks together. She will be perfectly happy with that, I’m happy to tell her that you’re overtired from the travel and I want to keep you all to myself.”

When she lifts her head up,you don’t hesitate to press what you intended to be a peck to her lips, but before you even know what’s happening Keira’s hoodie covered hands are reaching up behind your head, pulling you in.

It’s a good feeling, you like your relationship for this exact reason. You don’t know how the sparks would work, if they’d even be there if you had this all the time.

It’s supposed to be a dream to have this all the time, and yet the more you think about it, and the more the idea becomes slightly tangible the more you find yourself skeptical of the whole dream. It just doesn’t seem like something you should have.

“C’mere.”

You don’t miss the way you immediately relax as Keira completely collapses on top of you, her bones practically melting into your own. It feels so good, your body feels so much better with her around it, your head goes quiet and everything just fits into place. It’s the part of you that worries that if you have this all the time then that part, the magical part will somehow drift away and all the moments that keep you coming back will stall.

“I’ll order the thai, and I’ll text Leah. Tomorrow morning you’re going to call your agent and tell him that you want it made clear to Barca that you want to come back to England and the next offer available they should take it. Then you’ll help me pack for camp and we’ll have some really great goodbye sex and you’ll drive me to the airport and we’ll be all soppy and kiss and hug and cry. Then you’ll go on camp and tell Barca that you want a couple of days off when camp ends, and I’ll fly home as soon as my last match is over and we’ll spend whatever time we can get together. We’re going to make this work, we’re going to make something normal happen, okay?”

Whether it feels right or not, it sounds right, and as much as you aren’t sure about the future you know that right now Keira needs support. She’s not getting it at Barcelona clearly and you need to give it to her or as much as you can piece together. You need to problem solve this, you need to prove that even with all of your internal doubts that you can make whatever she needs or wnats work. She might not be your priority over football, or at least that’s what you think, but she’s pretty damn close and she’s the most stable thing you’ve had in your life for the past couple of years. You’ve put her through hell, and you need to fix the hell she’s currently living in like she would do for you.

“We’ll make it work?”

You look down at your perfect fucking girlfriend, on top of you, relaxed and smiling and it clicks, it all just clicks into place.

“Yeah baby, we’re gonna make it work.”

——————

anyways have a great day or night! love you all! maybe next time i post it’ll be a orgy 🤭

[ihaveforgortoomany]

The American Dream explored through Schneider (spoilers mainly for Chapters One and Two)

Back again with Great Gatsby parallels with Reverse 1999, this analysis is inspired by the parallels seen in Chapter Six between characters like Isolda, Kakania and Marcus to the characters in Tosca; as well as how the nature of tragic plays are explored in said chapter.

Anyways here is a exploration of Schneider through the lens of the "American Dream" because while I love oranges I kinda wanna explore Schneider as a character more outside of the romantic angle (thats still here ofc but more on her motivations and development) .

What is the American Dream?

(Im not American, just someone who/ studied the Great Gatsby)

In short this is the idea that in the "New World"/ America, anyone can do anything as long as you worked hard for it - Gatsby embodies this idealism.

This idealism is notably disillusioned by the end of the 1920s known as the Jazz Age - a period known for Hedonism, Prohibition and the belief that society had become less moral. The Great Gatsby and Tender is the Night by Scot Fitzgerald is born from this pessimism of the 1920s.

So how does this relate to Schneider?

Schneider

Putting aside her flirtatious manner and being a literal mafia boss, she is a character that was forced to grow up very fast and provide for her family at a very young age of 11. The male voice hammers home how Schneider had taken on the mantle of the breadwinner for the Greco family and how she will go to every length to help and care for them, such as turning to the Foundation and the Manus.

Now cue the oranges

The American Dream and the nature of it being a myth is expressed in the storybook scene between Vertin and Baby Schneider, specially when they share that final big orange. Im pretty sure this scene the game sets to auto as baby Schneider talks about the New World and how the "God loves the world there" intercut with Schneider suffering and pleading - just like Vertin's illusion that idealised is not real.

Baby Schneider talking about the New World with so much hope and joy being cut by the older Schneider, now jaded by the rejection of the Foundation and now the Manus reinforcing the pessimism of the 1920s that concludes with the 1929 Wall St Crash.

The American Dream is a myth, it has always been: Schneider was denied salvation on the basis that she was human, denied by the Foundation, denied by the Manus once they found out her lie and is finally taken by the Storm because she could not be on the Ark/ the suitcase would not protect her.

(I wonder when Schneider realised no matter the outcome she would be reversed alongside her family, maybe the moment she told her mother to starting moving once she realised Forget Me Not was not going to hold the end of his bargain.

I mean like everyone I would of liked a playable Schneider or even more on her as a character than the crumbs we got. But I think it is more fascinating how we Don't. Know. Schneider. At. All. Purposefully we are left wondering who she is as a person with only less than 24 hours of knowing her.

We don't even know her actual name but shes left enough of an impression to

One - Trigger Vertin's deep sated trauma of the Breakaway Incident/ giving false hope of salvation for to fail

Two - Create a fandom wide trauma for oranges and haunt the narrative that we actively call a depressing moment oranges

Less than 24 hours Schneider gave us enough to never forget her.

[littlejuicebox]

An Early Highharvestide Feast

(Soft Dom Astarion x Female Reader)

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Setting: 4 years after BG3, "good" ending, Unascended Astarion x F Reader Notes: Took a break from my WrenxAstarion fic to write this Thanksgiving-themed (kind of but not really... lol it just worked for the plot), one shot. This idea was playing in my head, and I had to get it out. Hope you all enjoy and have a happy Thanksgiving! This might end up being a Part 1 of a mini story. I'd like to do the fluff scene with all their friends around and imagine the lives they've lived. I love to see comments about what you liked in the story, it inspires me for other fics. Rating: Mature 18+ / smut Word Count: 2.5K

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You’re in the kitchen, flowers strewn about the marble countertop as you arrange the bouquets for tomorrow’s banquet. It’s been four years since you’ve seen everyone at the same time, and finally, finally, the old gang will be back together in one room in less than 24 hours. Your heart practically soared in anticipation... a Highharvestide banquet in your very own home, with your favorite people in the world. You wanted everything to be just perfect.

The planning had taken weeks. Astarion had left the menu to you, of course, apart from the wine and alcohol selection. He had taken that from you quite early on and it had been more than a tenday before he solidified his choices between his frequent business meetings and your political events. He’d focused heavily on guiding you both in politics and expanding your wealth the past few years, while you focused on gardening and improving Baldur's Gate... plus navigating the lack of anonymity in your life.

Admittedly, you’d stumbled clumsily through your change in status, from unknown woman to Lady Ancunin, while Astarion glided into the position like he’d simply left his post for a long vacation. You’d been happy to take the lead in the wilds while a tadpole was lodged in everyone's brains, but you were even happier to hand the reins to him once the city was safe. And you were always proud to tell your friends that he’d navigated the two of you through the changes quite well.

In fact, he'd just purchased a second property outside of Baldur’s Gate with aims to start your very own winery; his pet project that he loved quite dearly. It was beautiful to watch Astarion approach something with such passion and vigor. After becoming the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, it had pained you that he could no longer stand in the sun. Not as much as it so obviously pained him. His mask was carefully crafted, and yet you often saw right through it. You hoped that perhaps one of your friends would bring news of a cure for his condition to the feast.

He had always been adamant that he’d make the same choice over and over again, but guilt still stabbed you like a dagger to the gut when you saw him watch the sun rise from the deepest depths of your manor or caught him studying your tan lines from your many hours spent out in the garden, your own personal pet project, specializing primarily in night blooming plants.

Astarion’s voice pulls you from your reverie as he enters the kitchen with Scratch trailing behind him. His vermillion eyes are focused on a scroll in his hands as he grasps a bone from a jar and tosses it into the dog’s bed. Scratch obediently settles himself into the plush mattress, content to gnaw away at the treat.

“Darling, your dog went after the chickens again. One of the staff had to run him down and then give him a bath. We may want to seriously consider a trainer. Command beast works all well and good when you’re around, but not everyone has that skill set in their repertoire, dear.” His tone carries just the slightest tinge of annoyance; you two have had this conversation before. But you know in his heart of hearts that Astarion loves the blasted dog perhaps more than you do.

You glance at Scratch, currently focused on giving you his best look of feigned innocence. The look reminds you quite a bit of another white-haired miscreant standing in that very same kitchen and you chuckle. Distracted, you feel the miscalculated slip of your hand as you reach for a particularly thorned flower stem. The punishing sting causes you to wince and pull in a sharp intake of breath. Blood blooms in buds of red on your fingers and the scent catches Astarion’s attention immediately.

His eyes are alight as he chides you. “You really must stop bleeding everywhere, my heart. It’s distracting.” He places the scroll down and comes to your side, grasping your hand in his to examine the damage.

“Perhaps if you helped me with these arrangements like I’d asked, I wouldn’t be in this situation, my love.” You respond with a soft huff, but you extend your hand towards the vampire, already quite aware what his next move will be. He bends to lick the red droplets from your skin before he kisses the knuckle of your hand. Astarion will never waste such a precious thing, that much is certain.

“Perhaps if you more frequently used the staff -- that we pay quite well, might I add -- to do things like tend your garden, put all these flowers in vases, and perform any number of menial tasks, then you wouldn’t be in this situation.” The vampire retorts with a raised eyebrow. “All of this is below your station now. It truly pains me to see your beautiful hands doing such things, my dear.”

You smile as you close your eyes and whisper a healing incantation, sealing the superficial wounds with minimal effort. You swivel in your seat and turn to face your husband, eyebrow arched to mirror his own, voice slipping into a coy register. “And what, Lord Ancunin, would you rather see my hands doing?”

You won. You could see it in the darkening of his eyes as he placed his hands on either side of the counter and pressed forward to look at you, red eyes flitting between yours.

Astarion had ebbed and flowed in his sexual appetites, especially in the first few years of your union. He had been plagued by panic attacks and night terrors something awful; they still occurred but not with the same horrid frequency. Your many nights of herbal teas and "flower child" magic, as he so lovingly called it, eased the suffering. You’d been content to ride the waves of desire with him, and it seemed more recently, as the two of you adjusted to domestic life, his appetites had returned with force.

His face hovered just inches in front of yours, eyes alight with a combination of adoration and lust as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back and running his eyes greedily down your body, cocking his head as he fantasized about any number of dirty things. “I have several delicious ideas for those hands, darling.”

The flowers were scattered on the ground, along with a broken vase in an instant. The vampire hoisted you up with relative ease before placing you onto the cool, marbled counter. His hands grazed up the side of your silken gown and then delved under the hem to explore your bare skin. He quickly found his way to the junction between your thighs and a pleased, rakish smile crossed his face.

“No underclothes, Lady Ancunin? You truly do desire to test my patience today.” His eyes locked with yours as he knelt in front of you, draping your legs over his shoulders and pushing your dress up to reveal you to him fully.

You would have to enlist the help of the staff tomorrow afternoon. The tradeoff was well worth it, you thought, as your silver-haired husband bowed his head before you to run his tongue against your slit, a little hum escaping him as he tasted your warmth. He ran his tongue up to your clit, his lazy, languid strokes pressing into you. Always such a tease.

“Astarion…” You murmur, bucking your hips toward the vampire as your hands found silver curls of hair and took hold.

A smile snaked its way across his lips as he continued his torment. You were wriggling, desperate for more, which the elf adamantly denied you, his hands gripping into your thighs as he brushed his feather light tongue against you once more. Just enough stimulation to keep your attention, but not enough to provide any relief.

“My love..” Your tone is practically begging for him to give you more.

“Mm, darling. I do believe I need to show you what else your hands could do, don’t I?” He grabs your hand and yanks it towards your sex, where he guides you to play with yourself. Hungry red eyes watch the show as arousal begins to drip from you onto the countertop. He slips two long fingers deep inside your cunt and curls them slightly, pumping the digits in and out, which earns him a delightful moan. Still on his knees, the vampire removes his fingers from inside your walls and licks your juices off his hand before sliding your legs off his shoulders and standing. He makes quick work of ripping your gown over your head, pressing gentle kisses against the newly freed flesh of your chest. You are now completely barren and exposed to your lover, his lustful eyes stoking the fire between your legs.

His own arousal is now clearly straining against his clothes. Astarion quickly undoes the buttons of his collar and lacings of his trousers, freeing his cock before your hungry gaze. You’re still playing with yourself as you watch the man completely undress before you.

“Now darling…” He murmurs in that sensual tone reserved only for you. He guides your unoccupied hand to the twitching length of his cock and wraps it around the shaft, giving a few experimental pumps into your hand. “What else can your beautiful hands do?”

You take the queue and begin moving your hand around his length. Astarion hisses in pleasure, rolling his hips as he fucks your hand. The vision is quite lewd; you're playing with your own pussy as you pump your lover’s cock in time, your respective arousals just inches from one another but not touching. It's enough to cause the heat in your cheeks and your sex to rise and illicit several excited keens from you. He teasingly moves his length closer to your entrance, pulling away just as the head of his member brushes against you. You want to scream every time he pulls away, the bastard lives to tease you to the edge of desire.

Astarion was watching the scene with rapt interest, absolutely transfixed. His breath was quickening as he pressed himself into your hand, watching the head of his penis sheath and unsheathe itself under your ministrations as your pussy prayed to be plunged into, leaking arousal all over the cold countertop. He was always more in control in these situations, able to keep a firm hold on his desire in a way you never could.

“Look at my little treat, making such a mess on these expensive counters.” He murmured in mock disappointment and mock condescension, eyes burning with excitement. “Play with yourself and show me the mess you make when you cum for me, my sweet.”

You moan, desperate to have him fill you. “Astarion, please. Fuck me already. Please.” You’re keening, fingers rubbing against your clit with vigor. Desperate for something to fill the ache inside you, you remove your hand from your lover’s cock and shove two fingers into your wetness. The stimulation is fantastic and rips a moan from your vocal cords as your head tilts back.

Astarion chuckles darkly at the scene before him. It was no secret that he loved the way you inflated his ego when you begged for him, a writhing mess of wanton desire for his eyes only. The do-good, stoic hero of Baldur’s Gate turned into a desperate, needy little minx under his touch. He never tired of it. “Cum for me, darling. And then you will get your reward.”

You aim to do as he says, using one hand to plunge in and out of yourself while the other rubs frantically at your clit. Your legs are spread wide, displaying everything to the vampire as you push yourself towards release. Finally, the bubble bursts and an orgasm crashes around you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body and into your thobbing sex. The pulsing seems nearly endless, and you feel the ooze of your juices sliding between your legs as you ride the wave of pleasure. When you come to your senses and flutter your lids open, Astarion's eyes are boring into you with such desire that it causes a tremor of excitement to run down your spine.

In one swift move he has you in a new position. Your feet are on the floor, albeit legs a bit shaky, and your ass is turned toward your lover, body bent at the waist. Your face is pressed into the counter, into the stickiness of your own juices. Everything smells of sex.

A delicious groan escapes from the vampire as he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, ready to take you from behind. “Beautiful... now, let’s see if I am able to make you come undone once more.”

Astarion slams into you with vigor, the force of the movement knocking the wind out of you as he groans in appreciation. Your soaking wet sex offers no resistance and you gasp at the pleasure of the rapid intrusion. He repeatedly drags himself back at a tortuous, languid pace just to thrust himself balls-deep once more, snapping his hips into the flesh of your ass, moaning every time he takes you to the hilt.

“Oh gods!” You exclaim as he picks up the pace, pumping into you with increasing speed, his cock curving gratifyingly along your insides. You feel yourself clenching around him as his efforts push you toward another peak.

Astarion growls and grabs your hand, guiding it once again to your clit. You’re climbing up to a second release as he rolls his hips behind you in an unceasing onslaught.

“There you go, little love. Won’t you cum for me again?” He coaxes in a graveled whisper as his lips and tongue trail down your spine, never once ceasing his thrusts. The vampire’s teeth find a beautiful little spot at the meeting point of your shoulder and neck, and he bites down, just enough to draw blood. The sensation pushes you over the edge and you spasm around your lover, your cunt eagerly gripping at his length.

“Oh! Oh... oh, my love.” The vampire groans as your throbbing sex pushes him over the edge, his final pumps turning sloppy as he spills into you. The two of you are a mess of panting chests and tired limbs for a few moments before Astarion straightens himself up and gently pulls you from the counter, dotting kisses along your shoulder where he left the bite.

"That was wonderful." You whisper, turning to face the vampire as you plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Mmh.” Astarion agrees in a little hum as he looks down at you with soft and loving eyes, pushing strands of hair away from your face before holding your chin in his hand and planting another kiss on your lips. The slightest of smiles flits across his lips as he runs his hands down to the curve of your waist. You move to begin cleaning up the mess you two made when your lover grabs your hand and begins to tug you away from the kitchen.

"Now, now, darling. Leave that be. I haven't finished showing you what else your hands can do… and we only have a bit longer before our friends show and ruin all the fun. Seems my Highharvestide feast came a day early." He muses, before eagerly leading you to the bedroom you both share. The flowers would have to wait.

——-

Part 2: Happy Highharvestide Day (all fluff)

[seriouslycalamitous]

Okay, first of all, I’m absolutely in love with your writing style, it’s so good and you’re so incredibly talented!! I’m really enjoying your shapeshifter fic, and am very excited to see where it goes.

Secondly, I was wondering how you manage to write so much each week? I’m an aspiring writer myself, and would like to start writing my first long fic, but I’m having trouble with the long part…. Do you have any tips?

Again, love all your fics, am very excited to see how the shapeshifter one will end (my brain is theorising so many random things), and I wish you a very lovely rest of your day!

-✨

AWWW this is all very very sweet!! I’m so happy you enjoy what I try so hard to write for you guys, that really does warm my heart! I’m beyond excited to post the ending soon!!!!

And those are some really good questions! I can definitely answer, though i might ramble a bit!

Personally, I’ve been a writer for a really long time. Ten years — so i’ve got my fair share of experience with writing.

English is my line of study, something I could rant about for a while if asked. Because of this, some stuff comes more easily for me than it does for a lot of people. Practice and time are the best ways to improve, whether you have traditional school backings or not.

And, secretly, I actually DON’T write a chapter every week! I prewrite the majority of my fics, and I only start rushing if I post before my fics are completely done. With my last fic, BTDOM, I had only prewritten 4/9 chapters, and I started speed-writing like 9k words a week once the updates caught up to me.

It was rough, I don’t recommend putting yourself on a scheduled deadline like that unless you’re confident. I know I can write pretty consistently, so I don’t tend to worry. For example, two days ago, I decided to add 3.9k words to Ch5 of CWTT and i wrote it in under 24 hours and then slept SO HARD.

While I don’t think i’m out of this world crazy, I definitely am NOT the standard for a regular fanfic writer. I practically write every hour of the day. I have the google docs app downloaded on my phone, so I can write while I wait for the bus, write between classes, so on and so forth. When you’re used to operating like that, and it’s your only hobby, you become kind of obnoxiously quick.

As for advice, a general rule of thumb is to try and write a little every day. A friend of mine has a writing goal to write 1k words a day - but that could be shortened to 500 or even less depending on your comfortability, it’s just constant progress!

When it comes to long fics, you should sit down with yourself and figure out what exactly you mean by long. My fics are long in word count, but short in chapter count. This is ideal for me, as it takes away the pressure of planning things that I think might never end, and it makes it easier to reach a goal without carrying on certain plot elements for longer than is necessary. I really honestly do recommend this!

Something else that is important is not biting off more than you can chew. Especially for your first long fic, don’t try to add too many, if any, side plots should they be avoidable. Smaller cast lists can help with this. You want to make sure you can complete the main story itself without having to stress over a loose end you forgot was there. If you finish writing, and you realize there’s wiggle room that won’t interrupt the main plot, going back and adding things, or making spin-offs in the same universe can be a fun treat!

You don’t have to plot EVERYTHING either. I tend to start with the end, a few generalized middle scenes in my head, and the beginning in mind. The fluff in between is where cute scenes like pirates debating their captain’s love life can come in! It’s recommended that these fluff scenes still add something into the plot, obviously, like showing the reader how a relationship is developing, how outside people view it, how this person interacts with a magical feature, etc.

A scene of, say, Scar doing paperwork without acknowledging anyone else or anything else beyond the paperwork for a thousand words is boring to read and will be boring to write too. Spare yourself!

Anyway, as you can tell, I’m super big on writing and I know a lot and I CANNOT stop talking. If you have any more questions or want any more advice on specific things, I love analyzing writing, especially in fanfic, and I’m happy to help!

Good luck with your fic!!!

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 24) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Chapter 24

Your phone is buzzing in your pocket, but you ignore it. You’ve set special ringtones for the important people, to let you know exactly who’s calling, and everybody important knows to call you rather than text if it’s urgent. Even if there was a phone call, you’d think twice about answering it today. The last quirk was transplanted into Tomura three weeks ago, and he’s been in stasis ever since. And this morning when you arrived at Jaku hospital to work on the bullets, the doctor informed you that he’s ready to wake Tomura up.

The doctor is anxious about it — he’s referred to Tomura more than once as his greatest achievement, his magnum opus — but you’re terrified. The instant Tomura opens his eyes, the clock will begin to tick, counting down the hours or minutes or seconds until the doctor realizes that the body theft he and All For One were trying to pull off didn’t work, or worked by half, or something. You’re not sure exactly how much the personality imprint of a copied quirk is reduced by. All you know is that if the doctor was confident that giving you a copy of Overhaul’s quirk wouldn’t influence your personality the same as the original, you can be confident that the same is true for a copy of All For One.

“Let’s review the procedure again,” the doctor says, and you nod, even though you’ve reviewed it twice already. “I will pass electric current through the fluid in the capsule, which will revive Shigaraki. After that, the fluid will drain from the capsule, the walls will retract, and he will be accessible to us. He is likely to be disoriented when he wakes, which means that the task of removing his rebreathing mask will fall to you rather than me. He’s less likely to kill you.”

You nod. “After he awakens and the mask has been removed, we’ll review the procedures he’s undergone and proceed to testing the efficacy of his new quirks,” the doctor continues. “Then the two of you may return to the Paranormal Liberation Front and begin the work of destroying this hero-saturated society.”

You nod again. The doctor studies you. “This is a great accomplishment, you know. You should be proud of the part you played in it.”

One part of it. “Yes, sir.”

“All right, then.” The doctor lifts the phone he’s been using to monitor the capsule and Tomura’s vitals, swipes past a few screens, and enters a command. “Wake up, Shigaraki Tomura!”

Of course he’d choose right now to act like a mad scientist. You catch yourself just in time to avoid rolling your eyes; you aren’t wearing your veil right now, and it’s not the kind of thing you want to get caught doing. At the doctor’s command, electricity charges the fluid inside the capsule, and Tomura’s body jerks, hands clenched into fists and back thrown into an impossible arch. It looks agonizing. It looks too much like he’s looked during the torture sessions of the last few months, even before his eyes open. The doctor enters another command, and the fluid levels begin to drop, followed by the walls of the capsule retracting. Tomura tries to get his feet under him as the fluid drains, but his legs give out, and he pitches sideways. You race forward to catch him, getting there just in time. “Tomura –”

He seizes you in an iron grip and holds on tight. He was strong before, but you were keeping track of each strength quirk as they were transplanted into him, and you know that there’s no breaking out of his hold if he doesn’t want to let you go. His shoulders are heaving. He’s trying to breathe, but the mask won’t allow it. You have one arm free, and you reach up behind his head, undoing the clasps holding it in place. It falls away, and Tomura sucks down one ragged breath, then another.

His voice is hoarse when he speaks. “Is it over?”

“The transplantation of quirks is over, my liege,” the doctor says. Tomura’s shoulders stiffen. “Your reign over this world is just beginning.”

Tomura draws back slightly, looks up at you. He looks weirded out, and it gets worse as the doctor comes closer. “How do you feel, Shigaraki?”

“Cold.” Tomura sinks back against you. He’s shivering.

“That’s to be expected. Saintess will get you cleaned up.” The doctor gives you a meaningful look. “Hurry. There’s much to do.”

You set out towels and clean clothes beforehand, but when you try to get to them, Tomura won’t let you go. “Don’t,” he says. “I feel — weird. What happened?”

“You’ve been in stasis for three weeks, my liege. Some adjustment is required.” The doctor’s being a hell of a lot nicer to Tomura than he’s been in the past, probably because he doesn’t think Tomura is Tomura anymore. “You can let go of Saintess. Her loyalty to you is absolute. There’s no question that she’ll return to you.”

Tomura loosens his grip on you reluctantly, and only long enough for you to pick up the towels and wrap one around his shoulders. His teeth are chattering as he pulls the towel tight, and you hurry to drape another one over his head. The doctor comes closer, opens his mouth, and Tomura speaks up without looking at him. “Leave.”

“My liege?”

“You have other things to do, don’t you? You promised me Nomus.”

“Of course,” the doctor says, scrambling. “I have several completed. Let me retrieve them.”

“Now.”

“Yes, my liege.” The doctor scurries off. As soon as he vanishes around the corner, Tomura kisses you.

It’s not a great kiss. The fluid he was submerged in during stasis tastes terrible, and drops of it have run down his face from his hair. His lips are cracked from three weeks of recycled air moving over them, splitting with the slightest pressure of his mouth against yours, and he’s shivering so badly that you’re at constant risk of catching a bite. Even so, it’s him. He’s awake, and for the first time in months, he’s not in agony — and he’s not angry with you for helping the doctor. Your eyes well up and you squeeze them shut. You don’t want to cry because you’re happy. He won’t understand.

But the person kissing you was someone else before he was Shigaraki Tomura, and he used to cry all the time. Tenko draws back, grinning that too-wide grin. “It worked,” he says, and you nod. “Do you want to kill him, or should I?”

A laugh startles out of you. “That was fast.”

“He wants stuff. I don’t give a shit about it.” Tenko doesn’t look like he gives a shit about much of anything at the moment. He’s wiping tears off your face with the corner of a towel. “We don’t need him anymore. We can do whatever we want to do. What do you want to do first?”

Now that you know he’s okay, that he’s still himself, what you really want is to curl up with him and take a nap. You can’t remember the last time you slept well. But there’s something you need to tell Tenko first, something important. “I did something,” you say.

“Overhaul’s bullets. You told me about those.” Tenko’s still grinning. “He had to torture a kid to make them and you figured it out on your own. How many did you get?”

“Lots,” you say, “but that’s not what I mean. I, um –”

“What?” Tenko looks a little closer at you, his brow furrowing. “What happened?”

You have to get this out fast, and you have to do it before the doctor gets back. “It’s about the quirk. All For One,” you say. “I –”

“My liege!” The doctor’s back, and you shut your mouth, shake your head when Tomura tells you keep talking. “I have six High End Nomus ready for your use. I’ve keyed them to your voice already, but a field test would be in order.”

You know about the High Ends. A few times the doctor’s left you in charge of supervising them post-transplant, and you hate it. No matter how many times someone reminds you that you aren’t quirkless anymore, you’re still acutely aware of the difference in power between yourself and everyone else — and it’s never more apparent than when you’re dealing with the High Ends. Tomura is nodding along to the idea of a field test, but once it’s tested, he floats an idea that makes the doctor’s jaw drop. “I want them to answer to the rest of the League, too.”

“What?”

“If they only answer to me, and some hero shuts me up, then we’re in trouble.” Tomura is squeezing stasis fluid out of his hair. He seems surprised by how long it’s gotten. “The League fights as a team. If one of us is out of commission, the rest need to be able to step in. Start with her.”

He gestures at you, and the doctor’s eyes narrow. “My authority over them has ceded to you, my liege. If you’d like the Nomu to answer to Saintess, give them the order.”

“You answer to me,” Tomura says to the Nomu. They nod. “Now you answer to her, too.”

He points at you. “You’ll need to use her name,” the doctor says. Tomura says your name. It feels odd to hear. It’s been a long time since someone used it. “There. Saintess, give an order.”

“Um –” You think about ordering them to kill the doctor, then chicken out. “Uh, say something.”

“Something,” they say in unison, and Tomura snorts.

He looks to the doctor next. “Bring the rest of the League here. Does that Nomu with the Warp quirk answer to me now, too?”

“Yes,” the doctor says, “but you shouldn’t need it. You were given a copy of the Warp quirk as well.”

Tomura glances at you, grins, and it kicks off a feeling you remember from forever ago. You aren’t proud a lot, and when you are, it’s not usually of yourself. But you were always proud when you came up with the perfect twist for one of yours and Tenko’s games, proud when you made him laugh, proud when the story you were telling let you save him and he was just as enthusiastic as he was all the times he got to save you. You did something right. You helped him. You get to be proud.

“Okay,” he says, “how do I do it?”

That’s your job, too. You scurry to his side, resolutely ignoring your phone buzzing in your pocket, bringing with you the binder where you’ve accumulated the fact sheets and diagrams for every quirk Tomura received. Warp lets Tomura bring people from a fixed point to his own location, and it requires a certain familiarity with the people in question. Something occurs to you as Tomura’s extending one hand, turning it this way and that. “Should we warn them?”

“No,” Tomura says. He’s smirking now. “They could use a surprise.”

The smirk fades and his brow furrows as he tries to activate the quirk, and you’re so busy watching him, reveling in the fact that he’s alive, that he’s awake, that he’s on his feet and not in pain and happy, that you don’t notice the doctor sneaking up on you. He taps your shoulder, scaring the hell out of you, then motions for you to lean down so he can speak in your ear. “Something has gone wrong.”

“He seems okay.” You play dumb for all you’re worth. “I know we haven’t tested all the quirks yet, but don’t you think –”

“He’s not taking this seriously. These are the actions of a child, not of the next All For One.”

You feel a surge of triumph. It worked. The doctor was expecting someone else when Tomura awoke. He was expecting All For One, and instead of inhabiting Tomura’s body, All For One is locked in a cell in Tartarus where he belongs. The doctor looks frustrated. Confused. What is he confused about? The only person who could have fucked things up this badly is the only other person who’s had access to the quirk database, to Tomura. Does he think you’re not capable of something like this? You’re more than a little concerned to realize that you feel insulted.

The doctor is pacing, musing to himself. “Perhaps he was deprived of oxygen at some point during the process. Prior to the transplantation of Super-Regeneration — but after All For One was transplanted. Or else I miscalculated the neural load of the quirks. If I had made such a mistake, then there would be evidence in the form of misapplied quirks, and — Shigaraki Tomura, how are you finding Warp?”

“It’s fine,” Tomura says, unconcerned. Five puddles of warp sludge are appearing in midair, hovering before him.

As you watch, the members of the League appear, coughing and gagging as they try to clear the sludge. None of them are facing in the right direction. Compress is wearing pajamas, and not wearing his mask. Toga’s hair is messy and so is Spinner’s, and Twice has the sleep version of his mask on, the one that leaves his mouth and nose uncovered. Tomura looks puzzled. “What time is it?”

“Uh –” You pull out your phone to check and see that your screen is covered in notifications from Mitsuko and Ryuhei. “It’s two am. Everybody must have been asleep.”

Asleep, or in a uniquely terrible situation to be warped out of — Dabi appears last, and appears naked. Tomura takes one look at him and starts wheezing with laughter. “What the fuck?” Dabi demands, and turns around. The fury evaporates into confusion at high speed. “What the hell?”

Tomura throws one of the used towels at him. It hits him in the chest and falls to the ground as the other League members turn to face Tomura as well, and eyes wide and jaws dropped. “Boss?” Twice ventures.

“I got the quirks,” Tomura says, and grins.

Out of everyone, Toga recovers the fastest. “Which quirks did you get, Tomura-kun? Let’s see!”

“You already know which ones,” Tomura says, but you can tell he’s excited to show off a little. “I got — let’s see –”

He crouches, then jumps upwards with enough force to shake the entire room, vanishing for the ceiling at high speed. You hear a muffled curse, and he drops back down hard enough to leave a crater in the floor. There’s a scrape on his head that vanishes a split second after you see it. “Air Walk and Super-Regeneration. That’s two.”

Spinner sidesteps Toga and Twice, headed straight for you. “What’s wrong with him?” he asks. “He’s, like — hyped.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” you say. “This is what he’s like.”

Spinner gives you a weird look. “Then what did you mean when you said –”

Your phone rings with Re-Destro’s ringtone, and you give Spinner an apologetic look before answering it. Re-Destro is already talking when you raise the phone to your ear. “— half the high command disappearing from their beds in the middle of the night is highly concerning no matter whose orders it occurs under! If the Grand Commander requires protection, why did you not summon –”

“Nothing’s gone wrong,” you say, cutting Re-Destro off. “Tomura’s awake.”

“Oh!” Re-Destro’s voice brightens up to an almost ridiculous degree. You hear him announce the news to someone nearby, and then his voice is right back in your ear. “When will he return?”

“We’re running tests to confirm that the quirks are all working properly. Then we’ll be back,” you say. “It shouldn’t be long.”

Re-Destro starts hemming and hawing about how he needs a more accurate deadline if you expect him to put together a proper reception for the Grand Commander’s return, and you cut him off as politely as possible, with mixed results. “I want to talk to the Grand Commander,” Re-Destro says. “Put him on the phone.”

You glance around for Tomura — Tomura won’t feel an ounce of guilt for hanging up on Re-Destro — but he’s nowhere to be found. Then an arm wraps around your waist from behind, and Tomura pulls you back against his chest as he lifts the phone out of your grasp with his other hand. “I’ll be back when I’m done,” he says, and you can hear Re-Destro stammering. “I want to eat something and I want a nap.”

That sounds perfect to you. You lean against him and listening to Re-Destro tripping over himself to order someone to change the sheets on Tomura’s bed. “What would you like to eat?”

“Sushi,” Compress calls from where he and Dabi are inspecting one of the Nomus.

“Ice cream!” Toga adds.

Twice has a request of his own, and so does Spinner, all of which Tomura relays. You know he doesn’t really have a favorite food, and finding him one is one of your projects for the new world. Tomura waits until Re-Destro’s sent who knows how many people scurrying off to make his requests a reality. Then he delivers a final one. “Cake.”

“Cake?” Re-Destro repeats, puzzled.

“Birthday cake,” Tomura clarifies. For a second you’re just as confused as Re-Destro is, trying to figure out if Tomura’s chosen a new birthday for himself. Then Tomura nudges your temple with his chin, and you glance up at him. “Do you still like the same kind?”

Your heart doesn’t lift, exactly. More like a lurch. “Wait, today’s your birthday?” Spinner asks, way too loudly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot your own birthday?” Toga looks appalled. “That’s so sad.”

“Even if I had remembered, I wouldn’t have said anything. We haven’t celebrated anybody else’s birthdays, either.”

“It’s not too late,” Twice pipes up. “Mine was in May.”

“Mine was in August,” Spinner says.

“Mine, too.” Toga glances at Compress. “What about you, mister?”

“October.”

“I’m not telling you my birthday,” Dabi says, even though no one asked yet. “This is stupid. Shigaraki didn’t say his either.”

It’s quiet for a second. Tomura doesn’t say anything, and the answer comes to you in a bright, painful flash — he doesn’t remember. “It’s in April,” you say.

“You don’t remember your own birthdays but you remember each other’s?” Twice looks surprised. “That’s cute! It’s weird!”

Tomura doesn’t say anything. His grip around your waist tightens, and you cover his hand with yours. “Grand Commander?” Re-Destro ventures.

“Yeah.” Tomura’s voice sounds odd. He clears his throat. “We’re gonna need more than one cake.”

Your phone ends up getting passed from person to person, so everyone can put in their cake order. Dabi comes over just as Tomura’s regained custody of the phone, and when he reaches for it, Tomura holds it just out of reach. “Birthday first.”

“January,” Dabi growls, and snatches the phone. He orders some mix of flavors that shouldn’t go together, then shoves the phone back at you. He clearly has more to say, but he holds off until after Tomura’s hung up on Re-Destro. “You all are insane. You got unlimited power and the first thing you do with it is throw a birthday party for your girlfriend?”

“It’s for everybody,” Tomura says, unruffled. “What’s the point of unlimited power if you can’t do whatever you want with it?”

If you had been worried at all that your sabotage didn’t work, that All For One had taken some grip on Tomura through his copied quirk, this would be enough for you to let it go. You don’t doubt Tomura’s desire to tear down society or his hatred for heroes, don’t disbelieve the brainwashing All For One must have put him through — but at the same time, you think it’s telling that the first thing Tomura decided to do after waking up with enough power to destroy the known world was to throw a party for his friends. His friends. And you.

And if you needed more proof, all you’d have to do is look at the doctor’s face. His bafflement and frustration are written all over it. “Shigaraki, we still have tests to run. And if it’s still your intention to order the Nomus to respond to the others’ voices as well as yours –”

“It is.” Tomura’s arm tightens around your waist a final time, then loosens. “Let’s make it fast. We have a party to go to.”

The other transplanted quirks are in perfect working order, a fact which only seems to confuse the doctor further, and before the doctor can do anything more than make a few noises about wanting to run some more extensive tests, Tomura orders the Nomu to activate Warp and returns you all to the PLF headquarters. You’re not sure why he didn’t do it himself. Re-Destro’s gone overboard with the party, although given all the food and the six different varieties of cake the League ordered, it was already over the top to begin with. You get separated from Tomura in the minor chaos, and waylaid by Skeptic almost immediately. He announces himself by dropping your veil over your head from behind. “Keep that on,” he hisses at you, when you jump out of your skin and move immediately to yank it off. “The spy is somewhere nearby.”

“The spy?” you repeat. “You know who it is?”

“I share your suspicion and Spinner’s.” Skeptic glowers at you. “Don’t act so surprised. My loyalty is to Re-Destro, and through him, the Grand Commander. I have no intention of letting anyone else derail Re-Destro’s dream.”

Anyone else — because the League’s already done it. You add another name to your short list of uneasy allies, all bound together by separate loyalties — the doctor’s loyalty to All For One, Skeptic’s loyalty to Re-Destro, Spinner’s loyalty to the vision Tomura’s sworn to create. It’s a fragile web, one with gaps wide enough to see disaster through, if the doctor finds out what you did, if Skeptic and Re-Destro realize what Tomura really plans to do to the world, if Spinner’s win condition for the war to come changes. But you think it’ll hold together. Tomura can hold it together, and you can help him, just like you’ve done from the beginning.

You nod to Skeptic. “Thank you.”

“Your contact at the HPSC requires specifics to make a query, doesn’t he?” Skeptic doesn’t wait for your answer before he keeps talking, and you have barely a second to realize that the PLF knows who Kazuo is. “Since he can’t ask directly whether the individual in question is the spy, I’ve collected as many dates and times as I can. Give him those and tell him to narrow down what the spy was doing in those time periods.”

Dates and time-stamps should be more than specific enough. Skeptic air-drops the file to you and your phone buzzes in your pocket. You thank him again, glance around to confirm that Tomura is still in the room, and check your phone. There’s the file from Skeptic. There’s also a bunch of texts from your friends.

Mitsuru’s texted the old group chat, the one with Hirono’s and Sho’s numbers, asking if and when the group is having a party for you, and if he can bring his girlfriend. Ryuhei and Mitsuko are asking the same thing in a separate chat, and you have a text from Kazuo, too — happy birthday, plus a notification that your cousin Manami’s been released from jail, charges dropped. He’s got a few misspellings in the text, which is weird. Then again, it is four in the morning.

Tomura sneaks up on you while you’re asking Mitsuko and Ryuhei if one of them can track down Manami, who has absolutely nowhere to stay. He reads over your shoulder. “Your cousin’s out?” he asks. You nod. “Tell your friends to take her to your apartment if you still have it.”

You do. You’ve even been paying rent. It’s not the worst place for your cousin to crash. You send the message, and Ryuhei responds with a thumbs-up, followed by an eye emoji. “Good thinking.”

“Let me know when they’re there,” Tomura says. You twist in his arms, peering at him through the veil. “You should have all your friends at your birthday party.”

“I can’t believe you remembered my birthday.”

“Did you ever forget mine?”

“No.” You always got a little sadder in the first week of April, for reasons you never talked about with anyone. “I could never forget your birthday.”

“Then how come you think I’d forget yours?”

You don’t answer, but you don’t have to. Tomura knows why, and his gaze slides away from yours. “You think I forgot you,” he says. “I didn’t.”

Your mind is totally blank for a second, and a second is all it takes for someone else to swoop in. “Hey, you’re the Grand Commander!” Hawks is grinning as he alights next to you and Tomura. “Welcome back.”

Tomura reacts about how you’d expect him to react to the presence of the Number Two hero. “What are you doing here?”

“Saintess here didn’t tell you about me? I’m hurt.” Hawks slings an arm around your shoulders. “I guess you probably had other things on your mind, huh? You should see it, Grand Commander — Saintess and Spinner are the only ones around here who work harder than I do.”

“You?” Tomura scoffs. “What do you do?”

“Ah, Grand Commander! I see you’ve met our greatest asset.” Re-Destro rolls up in his wheelchair, beaming. “The Number Two hero has been using his platform to spread Liberation ideology far and wide. With every day that passes, more and more people grow sympathetic to our cause. It’s the sort of task only he can complete.”

Tomura’s lip curls. “I don’t need their sympathy. They’ll understand when I make them understand.”

“Hey, easy. I never said we’d get everybody,” Hawks says. “Trust me, Grand Commander — there are still plenty of people in need of a lesson that only you can give.”

He’s still leaning on you, arm around you, and suddenly you’re reminded of another moment, months ago — Overhaul, healing your hand, while Tomura couldn’t do anything but watch and seethe. You duck out carefully from under Hawks’s arm and stand clear. “Why do you care about this?” Tomura asks him. “The way the world works is a pretty sweet deal for you.”

“Just because it’s sweet doesn’t mean it can’t be sweeter,” Hawks says with a shrug. “The world order could use an update, and I’d rather be one of the people doing the updating. And speaking of updates –”

He leans close to Tomura, studying him. “How are those new quirks treating you? Dabi said you were getting the good stuff.”

Your stomach lurches with terror, followed by frustration. You and Spinner put a lot of work into making sure Hawks knew nothing about the quirks Tomura was getting. It turns out that instead of compulsively feather-checking yourselves, you should have been taping Dabi’s mouth shut. “I got the good stuff,” Tomura agrees, without adding any more detail than that. “If you’re waiting for me to put on a show, don’t hold your breath.”

Hawks laughs. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Grand Commander. I just wanted to introduce myself! I’ve been waiting a while to meet you.”

Tomura inclines his head, then turns his back. It’s the kind of dismissal Re-Destro’s gotten used to, based on how quickly he captures Hawks’s attention and steers him away. Tomura opens his mouth the instant Hawks is gone, but you raise a finger to his lips to quiet him. You’ve just spotted a small red feather resting on Tomura’s shoulder, almost hidden by his hair. You pick it off, resisting the urge to crush it, and hurry after Hawks. “Hang on,” you say. “You forgot this.”

“Thanks,” Hawks says. He’s still smiling, but his eyes are wary behind his visor. “Sorry to interrupt back there. You think he hates me?”

“It isn’t you,” Re-Destro says before you can say a word. “The Grand Commander is very protective of his disciples. Particularly her.”

You really wish he hadn’t said that. You hold the feather out for Hawks to take, then hurry back to Tomura as soon as it’s gone. Tomura’s already pissed. “That’s the spy,” he states.

“I think so,” you say. “My HPSC contact hasn’t been able to confirm it yet, but — me and Spinner both think so. And Skeptic –”

“I’ll kill him. And Dabi.” Tomura’s teeth are bared in a sharp smile. “Nobody who benefits from this bullshit system would ever help tear it down. How the hell did he fall for it?”

“Um –” You really don’t know how to say this in a way that won’t result in Tomura Decaying the entire villa just to get to them, and you fall back on a tried-and-true method. “Remember how we said Dabi just needed to get laid? According to Spinner, he, uh, did.”

Tomura stares at you. “And he apparently missed the memo about what we do with heroes,” you continue. Tomura’s mouth twitches. “All that work the rest of us put in making them unfuckable –”

Tomura’s mouth contorts. “This is serious.”

“It won’t stop being serious just because you laugh about it,” you say, and Tomura lets out a reluctant snicker. You come closer to him, hoping he’ll reach for you, and he doesn’t disappoint. “I was more worried about it before you woke up. You’re not as vulnerable now.”

“I’m the same kind of vulnerable all the time.” Tomura’s grip on you is tight. “You and Spinner and Skeptic are working on it?”

You nod. “We can’t move until we’re sure.”

“I’ll move once you’re sure. He’ll be happy — he can see my new quirks up close.” Tomura scoffs. “Heroes think they can go wherever they want, take whatever they want, ruin whatever they want. I can do that now, too.”

“You can do more than that,” you remind him. “That’s why you did this — so you can do whatever you want. And you got through it. I’m so proud of you.”

You’re proud of him, but it’s not just that you’re proud. You’re relieved. You never have to stand helplessly by and watch someone hurt him, forbidden from stopping them. There won’t be any more agonized screams, although the ones you heard will haunt you, are haunting you already. That part’s over. All that’s left is to win the war. You can’t wait for that part to be over, either.

“I want a lot of things,” Tomura says. “You never told me what you want.”

“Hmm?”

“I asked you one time. You just kept talking until I fell asleep,” Tomura says. You’re too surprised to respond. “How much stuff do you think I forget?”

So far since he woke up, you and Tomura haven’t been able to talk for longer than a few minutes without an interruption. This time it’s Toga. “Come on, Tomura-kun,” she says. “We can’t have cake without you!”

“We’re not done with this,” Tomura warns you. But he turns to Toga. “Fine. But Twice has to make a clone of me so we can see if the cakes are poisoned.”

Toga giggles. “They aren’t,” she says. “Spinner made Re-Destro try them all first.”

Tomura laughs at that. You decide, only a little grudgingly, that you forgive Spinner.

It’s almost noon by the time everyone splits up to get some rest. The only person who isn’t even slightly tired is Tomura. His earlier desire for a nap seems to have dissipated, but he follows along with you back to his rooms. You have a feeling you know where he’s going with this, and you’re half-right — as soon as the door shuts behind him, he’s all over you, and for a few minutes, you’re able to lose yourself in kissing him. But then Tenko pulls away and asks the goddamn question again. Or a variant on it. “Why won’t you tell me what you want?”

“Why are you so hung up on this?”

“Because.” Tenko picks you up with shocking ease and drops you on the bed, then climbs on after you. “You never say it. Everybody else says what they want all the time. But you never do. Not even when I ask.”

“I don’t want to be selfish.”

“Wanting stuff is selfish?” Tenko pushes you back down when you try to sit up. You don’t doubt he’d let you up if you asked, but you’re equally sure that he won’t let you up unless you tell him to. “Come on. I couldn’t give you stuff before, but I can now.”

He leans down to kiss you, and even as his lips split, you feel them heal instantly. “It’s your birthday. Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

Tenko rolls his eyes, but you see a hint of that too-wide smile on his face. “What else?”

“Let me think.”

“You said that last time,” Tenko complains. You push lightly at his shoulder and he lets you up — then lets you shove him over onto his back. “Why is this so –”

You cut him off by unzipping the jumpsuit he still hasn’t changed out of, pulling it open from his throat to his navel. Your hands slip inside almost of their own accord, too impatient to go slowly, needing to touch him and prove that he’s in one piece, that he’s all right. Even with Super-Regeneration, the scars he got before he received it are still present, including an enormous one in his abdomen where the vast majority of the equipment went in. You remember wrapping that wound, or draping it with clingfilm so it could be easily accessed for the next procedure, wishing the entire time that you could stitch it and bandage it and let it heal. Before you can stop yourself, you bow your head and kiss the scar.

Tenko’s abdomen flutters beneath your lips as he laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Something I want to do.” You kiss the scar again, and as you’re doing that, you catch sight of another one, a few inches to the right. That one could probably use a kiss, too.

Tenko’s laughing at first, clowning on you for trying to kiss it better when it’s already healed, but then he quiets down — and more importantly, he stays still, letting you examine each scar, running your fingers over them before applying a kiss. You peel him out of the jumpsuit one shoulder at a time, kissing his hands as he draws them from the sleeves, taking your time with each one. This is what you wanted to do, the first time the two of you fooled around — getting to know every inch of him, figuring out what makes him squirm, paying such attention that he can’t doubt how much you want him.

Tenko relaxes beneath you, even as his breathing catches. The single protest he puts up sounds distinctly obligatory. “It’s supposed to be your birthday.”

“I’m getting exactly what I want.” You look up and make eye contact. Tenko’s propped up on the pillows, watching you, his face flushed. The color darkens the longer you keep looking at him. “If you want me to stop –”

“No,” Tenko says immediately. “Don’t do that. It feels good.”

That’s what you wanted. When you bow your head again, it’s a struggle to stop smiling long enough to kiss him.

Tenko stays relaxed for the most part, at least until your lips brush the trail of dark hair leading from his navel to his groin. You follow it, with your mouth and your fingers, and you feel the muscles in his legs go tense. You touch the inside of his thigh through the jumpsuit, run your fingers over the seam, slide one hand up to his chest. Your fingers brush past one of his nipples and he startles. “Does that feel good?”

“No.” It sounds like Tenko’s speaking through gritted teeth, and his body tenses when you do it again. “Fuck –”

His legs shift apart, making more room for your hand, and you keep toying with him. You didn’t plan to tease him, and you don’t think you are — just taking your time, seeing if what he likes has changed at all, figuring out the best ways to wind him up. He’s hard beneath the jumpsuit, and when you trace over the outline of his cock, he lets out a gasp that makes your face flush. “Are you trying to make me come in my pants?”

You wouldn’t be opposed, exactly. “Do you want to come somewhere else?”

“You know where.” Tenko sits up and reaches for you, Decaying your clothes, then his, with two brushes of his fingers. “Here.”

His hand slips between your legs, and a grin crosses his face when he realizes how wet you are. He pulls you into his lap easily, like you don’t weigh anything at all, giving you mere seconds to help guide him before he pushes into you. It’s so sudden that you almost whimper, almost gasp, and Tenko freezes. “Did that –”

“No.” You cut him off in a kiss.

This is the position you and Tenko wind up in most often, but this time, it’s less that you’re riding him and more that he’s fucking you from below. You have so little control that you can’t communicate what you want by moving there, and eventually you lose access even to words. Tenko seems to like that, seems to like teasing different sounds out of you. He’s breathing hard, fighting for his own control, but his eyes never leave your face. There’s nothing you can do but look back.

You see it in Tenko’s eyes when pleasure shifts to desperation. His nails sink into your back, his grip tightens on your hip, and he loses control, coming so hard that you actually see his eyes roll back. You can’t fail to be pleased by that, but your whole body is tied in knots. You don’t like edging. You need him so badly that it almost hurts.

Tenko doesn’t apologize. He pulls out and flips you to your back with shaking hands, stopping for a quick, messy kiss before drawing away, dropping down until he’s sprawled between your legs, propping them over his shoulders one at a time. He came inside you thirty seconds ago, and now he wants to eat you out? “Tenko,” you protest. “That’s messy –”

“I don’t care.” Tenko is breathless, his voice rough. He speaks with his mouth buried in your hip, his hair tickling the insides of your thighs. “I want you.”

He’s never eaten you out before, and he’s picked the worst time to do it — and you feel like you’ll die if he stops. Your legs shake and your back arches and your muscles clench around nothing as he pushes your legs further apart and seals his lips around your clit. You were already close. Heat floods your lower abdomen and you come, gasping Tenko’s name. It’s on the tip of your tongue to beg him not to stop.  

When you look up, you see that his mouth and chin are wet, and he’s grinning at you. “That was hot,” he says, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Your face burns. “You got me going again.”

He’s hard. You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh. “I didn’t do anything.”

Tenko’s lips move against your neck as he sinks into you again. “Yes you did.”

You hear the echo of something you said to him in what feels like another life, but then he rolls his hips forward, and your mind empties instantly of thoughts about anything at all.

The two of you are slower this time. Not so frantic. Almost lazy — and it feels good. In spite of the fact that you can taste yourself and Tenko on his mouth when you kiss him, you can’t stop. Your lips barely detach from his, and your hands never leave his hair, and in spite of being almost too sensitive and a little sore, the orgasm that washes over you is one you barely had to chase. Tenko’s perception of his own self-control is typically skewed. He always looks surprised when he realizes he’s passed the tipping point, and there’s something almost cute about it. Cute enough that you’re laughing as his hips rock forward unevenly for a few more thrusts before he slumps forward against you.

He makes a discontented sound. “What’s funny?”

“You. You always seem like you’re not expecting it.”

“Yeah. Any second now I’m going to wake up and it’ll all have been a dream.”

“Tenko.” You still sound way too out of breath. You take one or two deep ones, wondering if it’ll help clear the lump in your throat. “That’s –”

“I didn’t forget about you,” Tenko says, and you go quiet. “Just because I didn’t recognize you right away didn’t mean I forgot.”

You don’t know what to say. “I didn’t think you forgot who I was. I just didn’t think you remembered what we were like.”

“I remember more than people think I do.” Tenko pulls away from you, then nudges you onto your side so he can wrap himself around you from behind. He presses his face against your shoulder, then jerks back. “You let me scratch you?”

“I had other stuff on my mind.” You reach behind you blindly and pull him close again. “Stay here.”

It takes him a little bit, but Tenko eventually settles back into the same position as before. “Sensei wanted me to remember some things. My family. What they were like. What I did to them.”

“What happened to them,” you correct, and your heart lifts when he doesn’t argue. “Keep talking.”

“Or he wanted me to remember how it felt,” Tenko says. “What it felt like to be in my father’s house. All the worst things that happened were there. That’s what Sensei cared about. What happened outside it didn’t matter to him. I don’t know why.”

You think you might. Keeping Tenko’s attention focused on the house he was tormented in, keeping him focused on his pain and who was responsible for it, would have gone a long way to nurturing the hatred Tenko holds for the world as it is. “He didn’t care about what happened outside the house. So I would think about that sometimes. I talked to Kurogiri sometimes, before they took him away and made him different. I think they thought it was because of him, but it wasn’t. I wasn’t always alone. I had friends.”

He still has them. When Tenko gets to be himself, people are drawn to him. They always have been. “And I had a best friend,” Tenko continues. His grip on you tightens and he wedges himself closer. “I used to wonder what happened to you.”

He yawns. “Nothing much,” you say. “It was just a life. It would have been better with you.”

You feel awful for saying it. It’s not Tenko’s fault that All For One took him away. He doesn’t act like you’re guilt-tripping him, though – he curls up tighter around you. “Hey,” Tenko says, and you bite the inside of your cheek, holding on to your guilt. “You said you had something to tell me before. About Sensei’s quirk. I was supposed to get the original, right? Did the doctor switch it up on me?”

“No,” you say, and Tenko makes a questioning sound. You squeeze your eyes shut and spit it out as fast as possible. “I did.”

“Huh,” Tenko says, after the worst silence you’ve ever heard in your life. “Okay.”

Your heart is hammering, your entire body flooding with adrenaline — but there’s nothing for you to run from. Tenko is still wrapped around you, seemingly unconcerned and based on the way he’s flopped against you, settling in for a nap. “Okay?” you repeat.

“The copied quirks do the same thing as the originals, right?” Tenko yawns. You nod. “Like I said. Okay.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

Tenko yawns again. “You don’t trust the doctor. If you went against him, there was a reason, and —” a third yawn, even bigger than the others “— I trust you.”

“But —”

“You can keep talking about it,” Tenko says. “I’m going to sleep. Love you.”

“Tenko –” you protest, but he kisses your shoulder and shuts his eyes. He’s asleep seconds later.

You can’t believe it. You can’t believe a lot of what’s happened today, from the enormous to the ridiculous — everything from Tenko waking up in one piece to finding out that Dabi spilled his guts and maybe other stuff to Hawks to finding out that Tenko remembered you the whole time. Also that Tenko apparently thinks nothing of eating you out after he’s just come inside you, which is its own circle of weird. But none of that stacks up anywhere close to the fact that Tenko took the news that you switched the original quirk with a copy with absolutely no worries about it whatsoever.

Is it really that weird, though? You know Tenko trusts you. There’s never been a question of that, and he asked you to stay with him during the quirk transplants because he trusted you to look out for him. You did what he asked you to do, and he still has the quirk. Why were you so worried? Maybe because if your swap had failed, the moment you told Tenko would have been the moment you found out he wasn’t Tenko at all.

A shiver runs down your spine, and Tenko, already asleep, tightens his grip on you. You have a feeling you’re not going to be going anywhere without Tenko attached to you for the next few days — or you aren’t going to be anywhere other than this room at all. You don’t mind the thought. The quirk-canceling bullets work, and you have dozens of them. Tenko’s new quirks are in perfect working order, and he’s still himself. He knows about what you did, and he’s not angry. You remind yourself of those things, over and over again, until your heart rate begins to slow.

Tenko finally has the power to do whatever he wants to do, and you’re going to help him. And once it’s over, the two of you can build the world you should have gotten to live in from the beginning. You keep thinking about it as your breathing settles, and as you drift off, it occurs to you that this is doable. Tenko’s not the underdog anymore. The two of you could win, just like in your games as kids. For the first time, it feels like a real possibility. Not just something you can dream about. Something you can hope for.

Chapter 25 ->

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

On the language debate, I personally headcanon that the main language spoken at NRC is a common one. (?) (Like how English is the business language, or like how generally Native Americans had a common language that they spoke when trading with other tribes.) And Crowley or the Mirror used magic so that You was temporary fluent in that language.

After the ceremony, Yuu has to learn the common language and picks it up really fast (as one would in such a situation). Therefore, Yuu can still speak it when away from NRC.

(I also headcanon English as an ancient language akin to Latin, because I heard that Arabic was canonically an ancient language.)

[Referencing this post!]

I’d buy that everyone at NRC speaks the common language to some level of proficiency; it’s like how international students typically need to speak the language of whichever country they hope to study in and need to prove their fluency in an exam beforehand. As I said in the original post, the light novel does mention a translation spell over the school, so maybe that’s part of the “magic” that helps Yuu to understand what the others are saying.

Now, it’s theoretically possible for Yuu to learn the common language of Twisted Wonderland in a year, but I don’t think immersion alone would cut it (especially since the main story is only up to like 2/4 to 3/4 of a year so far) . They’d probably have to put in significant effort outside of everyday conversations to pick up its rules (because remember that language isn’t just vocabulary but also grammar, syntax, and social conventions). Yuu would also need consistent feedback from people since that’s how one usually “fixes” their incorrect language use. It’s similar to how adults would correct a child learning their first language; ie a kid says “wadur” instead of “water”.)

One site I looked at suggested that, depending on the language categorization (I, II, III, of IV), it can take 24-92 weeks’ worth of time to become an “advanced” speaker. Realistically, just getting to the basic conversational level could be hundreds or thousands (700-2500+) of hours on its own—and Yuu has to do this on their own time between homework, going to classes, and managing all the issues that Crowley doesn’t 💀 To me, that doesn’t sound like a lot of free time. Counterpoint to my own point though, we also have to consider that Yuu is... well, technically Yuu can be any age you want, but most Yuus are implied or portrayed to be 16-18. The critical window for language acquisition is theorized to be anywhere from the first three years of life up to as late as 17-18 years. After this critical window, the ability for language development tapers off. So, thinking about that, Yuu's brain could still be very pliable and able to absorb new language (though they'd have to work quite intensely to pack in as much as they can before this ability starts to decline).

Something that I feel would be difficult for Yuu is that the characters often use slang (Cater, Floyd, Idia, etc.) and/or uncommon words (like Vil’s “pulchritude”). The former may not follow the standardized rules of a language or may be idioms (other non-literal meanings for common words), which could make it hard for a non-native speaker to understand. The latter would not be used that often, so Yuu would be forced to guesstimate what the word means. I’d imagine this would make fluency challenging, because as immersed as Yuu is in Twisted Wonderland, less frequently used words are harder to grasp.

Maybe Crowley cast a translation spell ON Yuu so that they can still converse with people in the common tongue whenever they leave NRC? Or, since the events basically occur in an AU, more than a year has passed so it has allowed Yuu more time to absorb the language. Language in TWST and how it works… It’s really interesting to think about!

[dcdreamblog]

As someone who works in American health insurance (boo hiss) customer service, one call that I get frequently, about once every two months is "why doesn't my plan cover Miraclo (tm)?" And then I have to explain that there's no such thing as "generic Miraclo" and don't even get me started on so-called "herbal Miraclo."

So may I ask you to write a bit about the history of Hourman and why Miraclo (tm) isn't covered by most health plans?

Ok, I agree with you but I should warn you, if you are a person familiar with the medical field this explanation is going to make you cringe yourself sideways. Here goes. 1. Rex Tyler AKA Hourman, was not a pharmaceutical scientist by trade. He was a biochemist. His job was not to invent medicine specifically and he invented Miraclo on accident. The only three subjects it was ever tested on were

A. Tyler himself B. Rats C. An owl (if certain stories are to be believed)

2. Miraclo was never released to the public and we still don't know what's in it. As with any drug or chemical agent that grants superhuman abilities it is HEAVILY controlled and the only reason it hasn't joined the likes of Venom on the most wanted list is because it never leaked to the drug trade in the first place.

3. SPEAKING of Venom, Miraclo is how that drug got started when only PART of Tyler's notes ended up in the wrong hands.

And finally,

4. Miraclo is not safe for human consumption over any extended period.

It makes the muscles stronger, but not as strong as it makes them FEEL. Making it super easy to deeply injure yourself.

It only lasts for an hour (at MOST, for anyone other than Tyler its effectiveness can be measured in minutes if not less), meaning it would be useless for the treatment of basically any medical issue.

As you can expect from such a potent rush, the come down is worse. It leaves the subject weak, shaky, disoriented and aggravated.

It's addictive

It can only be taken once every 24 hours between doses without instant, violent overdose reactions.

If it IS taken "safely" over extended periods it strains the involuntary muscles, most specifically those around and within the heart. Placing the user at increased risk of random heart attacks.

It also sharply spikes your risk of developing virulent and aggressive leukemia

And, over time The debilitating effects after each dose become more and more permanent, meaning it makes the muscles it empowers weaker without it over time.

Before anyone even THINKS the words "but what about Hourman's son Rick" Rick Tyler is A. a metahuman B. using a form of Miraclo that makes it "nonaddictive" but doesn't get rid of any other side effects. C. Had cancer and D. spent several years retired under the assumption that the Miraclo rush had helped him kill a man.

I respect the Tyler men, deeply. We would not be living in this world we have, maybe even a world at all, without Hourman. Miraclo is a closely guarded secret for a lot of really good reasons and even their teammates have interceded multiple times with the worry that while it might make them for effective heroes it is almost certainly shortening their lifespans. (The original Hourman and Doctor Midnite infamously butted heads over it constantly)

The only difference between Miraclo and Kobra Venom is that nobody with a profit motive knows how to make Miraclo.

[mariacallous]

I’ve been practising medicine and providing abortions in Arizona for the last 29 years. When I first opened my own clinic in Phoenix back in 1999, getting an abortion was relatively straightforward. But over the past two decades, Arizona’s Republicans have tried to make it as difficult as possible for women to terminate a pregnancy. When the state goes to the polls on 5 November, we’ll be voting not only on who becomes president, but on whether abortion is a constitutional right. In a historically Republican swing state where Donald Trump is only just ahead of Kamala Harris in the polls, as many as 22% of respondents named abortion as their most important election issue.

That’s not surprising, given what is required to end a pregnancy in Arizona today. There are just nine abortion clinics in a state of more than 7 million people. Since pharmacies and physicians in Arizona aren’t allowed to send out abortion pills by post, women must travel to visit one of these clinics in person. A state-mandated “information session” describing the risks of the procedure is required at least 24 hours before every abortion (even though the procedure is usually far safer than childbirth). Federal law means most abortions aren’t covered by Medicaid, so they cost between $600 and $1,000 (£500-£770), plus two days off work, plus the cost of travelling across the state, plus two nights’ accommodation.

Perhaps that’s affordable if you have a decent job. But it’s not if you’re poor. “Pro-choice” is no longer an apt description for abortion access in Arizona, because while the procedure is technically legal up to 15 weeks (unlike in Texas, for example), many women aren’t in a financial position to make that choice. The New York Times recently ran a story showing that 171,000 women in the US travelled out of state for an abortion last year. Some travelled hundreds or even thousands of miles for a procedure that usually takes less than 10 minutes. Women are furious that it’s come to this, and they will channel their fury at the ballot box.

Arizona has long been considered a Republican stronghold, but the vast majority of people support women’s reproductive freedom, and Republican lawmakers have not been voting with with their constituents. Organisations funded by the Christian right, such as the Center for Arizona Policy, have lobbied state Republicans to adopt increasingly extreme positions. This is the political climate that led to the Dobbs decision, a 2022 supreme court ruling that there is no constitutional right to abortion, and it’s why so many of us worried that Arizona was going to revert to a full ban on abortion. Without the protections of Roe v Wade, the state could have returned to an 1864 law that banned abortions even in cases of rape or incest.

Thankfully, our state legislature voted to repeal the 1864 ban earlier this year. And the anti-abortion lobbying that culminated in the Dobbs decision has only made people more aware of what they stand to lose. When I wear my T-shirt printed with “Abortion is healthcare” to my local pilates class, women give me a thumbs up. It’s ironic, really: having fought to make abortion nearly impossible, Arizona’s Republicans may now have cost themselves the election.

Last month, I watched the presidential debate at home with my family. Joe Biden had dropped out, thank God, and there was an incredible optimism about Harris. She is unafraid to use the word “abortion”, for one thing. Biden rarely talked about it. Obviously, he was supportive of women’s rights, but he never seemed comfortable using that word. Nor did Hillary Clinton. So hearing Harris talk about our rights to reproductive freedom and bodily autonomy is deeply refreshing. With Dobbs, Harris has found her voice.

On the night itself, Trump resorted to making wild claims, arguing that the Democrats were “executing” babies. “Nowhere in America is a woman carrying a pregnancy to term and asking for an abortion,” Harris shot back. “That is not happening. It’s insulting to the women of America.” She was calm and articulate, while he seemed increasingly unhinged. She spoke of women suffering from miscarriages, of the physical pain that they’re experiencing. Her frankness about patients’ suffering – at one point she told the story of a woman who was denied emergency care and ended up bleeding out in her car – was a reminder that the country we live in now is different to how it was in 2016 or 2020. Women’s reproductive rights have been trampled on, and we have to be open about what this means.

The debate was an early indication of the gender split in this election. A recent NBC poll found men favour Trump over Harris 52% to 40%. With female voters, Harris leads Trump by 58% to 37%. I often say that there’s a man involved in every pregnancy, and I’m glad to see that some men are being more vocal about abortion rights. Still, it’s striking that while women are pulling away from Trump, men are gravitating towards him. A vote for him seems like a vote for a type of masculinity that sees feminism as toxic and regards men as the truly oppressed. How else to explain the appeal of a man who boasted of grabbing women “by the pussy”?

The strange thing is how out of step the Republicans now are with public opinion. Perhaps that’s why Melania Trump recently claimed to be passionately pro-choice. The Trump campaign is flailing over abortion, and now seems to be frantically trying to project a more reasonable image. Yet the Republican commitment to minimal government has always sat uneasily with their anti-abortion stance. If you’re a Republican, it’s possible to think that you should be able to carry an AK-47 without the government interfering, and think that the government should interfere in a woman’s decision over whether to carry a child, and not to see any contradiction between these two stances.

Even on their own terms, anti-abortion laws don’t work. Countries that ban abortions don’t have fewer abortions; they just have a larger number of unsafe abortions. If Republicans really wanted fewer abortions, they would fund more sex education and free contraception. As it stands, many want to ban birth control, an issue on which Trump has flip-flopped. This dissonance only makes sense when you realise that anti-abortion laws aren’t really about abortions. They’re about controlling women.

It’s now just a few weeks before the election. If you ask me which way I think Arizona will vote, I’d say blue. I live in Flagstaff, a city north of Phoenix, and traditionally a more conservative place than the capital. But there are Harris signs everywhere in people’s windows and front yards. We need a secular government that doesn’t interfere with people’s medical decisions, or impose its radical religious beliefs on the population. I’m feeling optimistic: I think people are seeing Trump for who he really is, and for how dangerous a second Trump presidency would be.

[crguang]

haven’t read kafka’s voice lines in a minute, but I just reread them, and like I need to know more. like her being a devil hunter. why were there devils on her planet in the first place, was it bc of the stellar on or just like smth else. why’d she become one. and it was always interesting to me that it seems like she kind of didn’t like her home planet, obviously she could be lying. ig she wasn’t that close to her family and she probably didn’t have friends bc she’s a loser and isn’t good at connecting w people. And I’m curious abt where and when she started saying "When making friends with someone, keep the right distance, in order to maintain a long-lasting relationship." and firefly thinks she doesn’t believe that? if Kafka didn’t care abt anyone on her home planet ig that would make sense? idk hsjjghsh I’m not coherent enough but I need more Kafka. I do wonder abt how people who can’t feel fear yk survive and all, but idk. Her sea voice like is also interesting like why was that such a personal place?

Also my fighter between the two kafcats os probably the happy one bc she’s just so cute…I want to a symphony a few days ago and I couldn’t stop thinking abt Kafka, like violin=kafka for me. She def would liked it, trust me. On a side note, do u think she’d be concert master? it’s like the best (violin I think) player and everyone tunes to them bc, and they usually get all the violin solos.

and I’m gonna have to clear out some stuff bc I don’t have enough storage for ptn…don’t ask. I know I’ll like it bc women, ugh I should just get more storage.

less than 24 hours til the banners come out im actually terrified, but umm we’ll see. And I have a quiz ig but you def got me covered fr (didn’t know you take comp too)

-🌠

now that ive read AND listened to her voice lines i find it curious that she seems to have a bit of nostalgia in her tone when talking about the destruction of her planet. like you can tell whenever she has a smile on her face as she says certain lines and she’s always so playful (spent a whole hour just listening to her yesterday im ill) but this line was one of the serious-ish ones. she could be acting all mysterious on purpose but i guess we won’t know until more info comes out…. i really wonder if she had friends or something before because she says she rarely ever saw the same person twice due to her work.

THE SEA VOICE LINE. HELLO. WAS NO ONE GOING TO TELL ME HOW EXCITED SHE GETS?! THE CUTE EMPHASIS ON “fiercest”?!?!?! YOU ALLLLL FAILED ME. she speaks so genuinely as if reminiscing that place then she composes herself after a pause… wow. my baby. she’s so cute 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

i also go violin = kafka and omgg going to a symphony sounds so nice i hope u had a great time. straight up unbiased thoughts i think she would get the solos because she seems really rigorous in her practice of the violin despite having a very unstable job. she doesn’t strike me as the type to go for easy to play pieces either, especially when you consider what kind of music she’d like. so she’d work for that solo!!

hope your pulls went well i thought i was gonna be devastated if she came at hard pity but turns out im too happy that shes home at all🥹

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

What caused the conflict between Robespierre and his supporters and Thermidorians that led to the events of 27/28th July? Everyone keeps saying different things

If we’re talking about a specific event that lead directly to July 27, the answer to me is pretty simple — it was the speech Robespierre held the day right before it, in which he called for new proscriptions against deputies in the Convention, the Committee of Public Safety (CPS) and the Committee of General Security (CGS), without being clear about exactly which ones he was targeting (even after explicately having been asked to to do so right after the speech was finished). If dissent between the robespierrists and other deputies, as well as more longgoing plans to undermine the former, had existed already before this speech was held, what ultimately happened on July 27 was not a result of these as much as something improvised in less than 24 hours in response to the sudden crisis it had caused by making everyone fear they might be on Robespierre’s list.

If we’re talking more about the underlying motives which made the situation on July 26-28 happen in the first place, for Robespierre’s part, he had grown convinced that the Convention and the two government committees contained conspirators within their midst. Exactly which people he suspected to be part of this conspiracy is hard to know for sure, seeing as he, as already stated, didn’t make himself clear enough in the speech (I’ve speculated a bit on which people I think it’s most likely he had in mind in this post). It is equally dubious whether Robespierre’s collegues at the CPS to some extent had supported his views or how much this new conspiracy was his own hobby horse. Regardless, Robespierre believed the conspirators had to be unveiled and crushed at any price, and, after openly having expressed his fears about them a couple of times at the Jacobin club, he finally decided to openly ask the Convention to take action.

When it comes to the people who overthrew Robespierre, once it was over and done, they would almost all give the same answer as to why they had acted the way they had acted — Robespierre was either acting like or aspiring to become a tyrant/dictator, and they killed him in order to put a stop to this authoritarian project. While I wouldn’t dismiss a fear like this to be nothing but a post construction, it can nevertheless also be established that, when looking closer at these guys’ activities shortly before thermidor, many can be revealed to have had motives grounded in personal dissatisfactions and/or fears of Robespierre as much as any eventual noble intentions. Some examples can be seen below:

Tallien (spoke against Robespierre during the session of 9 thermidor, was one of ten deputies to have signed the pampleth Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal [sic] par neuf représentants du peuple contre Maximilien Robespierre, pour le poignarder en plein senat released shortly after thermidor) —  Openly denounced by Robespierre on June 12 on the grounds of being ”one of those who speak incessantly with terror, and publicly of the guillotine, as something that concerns them, to debase and disturb the National Convention.” His mistress has been imprisoned since May 22 (the warrant for her arrest was actually written by Robespierre himself, but idk if Tallien was aware of that) and he is in dire need to get her out of jail. In his memoirs, Fouché claims that Tallien was one of several deputies he in the weeks leading up to thermidor would tell: ”you are on the list, you are on the list as well as myself, I am certain of it!” no doubt alarming the latter.

Fouché (Pointed to by several contemporaries as the leader of/important for the conspiracy. Did however not play an active role during July 27-28) — was recalled from his mission in Lyon on March 27by a rather frosty decree written by Robespierre. After returning, Fouché possibly had a private meeting with him where he would have been scolded for his conduct (though interestingly, on April 8, Robespierre is recorded to have ”praised” Fouché after the latter had read a report regarding his activities in Lyon…) He has also come under suspicion for his alleged atheism and ties to certain hébertists (most importantly Ronsin who had been his collegue in Lyon before getting executed alongside the hébertists in March 1794). On July 14, Fouché was openly attacked by Robespierre, who called him ”the leader of the conspiracy which we have to thwart" and got him expelled from the jacobins. If Fouché wasn’t already plotting Robespierre’s downfall at that point he surely must have started doing so after this incident.

Billaud-Varennes (spoke against Robespierre during the session of 9 thermidor) — Indirectly denounced by Robespierre in his final speech, both through the phrase ”why do those who told you once that we are walking on a volcano think that we walk on only roses today?” and the suggestion to purge members of the CPS. Booed down and driven out of the Jacobin Club under shouts of ”the conspirators to the guillotine” when Robespierre rerread said speech there on the evening of July 26, which probably gave him a very strong feeling that he was on the menu and would be executed if Robespierre was not. Claimed after thermidor to during a CPS meeting loudly have accused Robespierre and Couthon of pushing through the law of 22 prairial without anyone else in the committee having been involved, leading to the session becoming so stormy that the windows had to be closed.

Collot d’Herbois (spoke against Robespierre during the session of 9 thermidor, was also chairholder during this session) — Driven out of the Jacobin Club under shouts of ”to the guillotine” at the same time as Billaud-Varennes. According to one report, this was not before he had thrown himself before Robespierre’s feet and begged him to reunite with the CPS. Had been tipped off by Fouché on April 20 that Robespierre was investigating the latter for his actions in Lyon, which would make him guilty by association. Claimed in his defence (March 1 1795) to once have been declared ”traitor and conspirator” by Robespierre, ”because I had strongly supported the useful and wise proposal that Lindet made, to require horses and carriages in each section of Paris, in order to provide for the supplies of the armies.” According to Michel Biard’s Collot d’Herbois: légendes noires et révolutions(1995) Collot and Billaud’s abandonment of Robespierre is best understood through their perception of his political role than it is by any eventual differences in political or religious matters.

Vadier, Élie Lacoste (spoke against Robespierre during the session of 9 thermidor, Lacoste being the one to demand an arrest warrant against Augustin Robespierre) — these were both members of the CGS. Robespierre had explicately denounced said committee, and particulary its agents, in his July 26 speech, ending by demanding it lose its autonomy to instead become subserviant to the CPS. The CGS had however already earlier that year been robbed of some of its special attributes, when, on April 20, a CPS driven police bureau, mainly directed by Robespierre, Couthon and Saint-Just, had been introduced, something we might imagiene also became an object of irritation. Two months later, Robespierre had also personally taken care one of the committee’s cases (the Catherine Théot affair, which I wrote about more at length here) was taken away from them to instead be run by robespierrists. The handling of said affair was also something Robespierre explicately denounced the CGS for in his July 26 speech. It is also commonly stated that Vadier disagreed with Robespierre’s religious ideas, he himself being a militant atheist, but I’m not sure for what the source for that is.

Fréron (spoke against Robespierre during the session of 9 thermidor, was one of ten deputies to have signed the pampleth Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal…) — was never openly denounced by Robespierre as far as I’m aware, nor was the decree recalling him from his mission in Marseille, on the grounds of having gone to far when wanting to rename the city, been neither authored nor signed by him. We do however know Fréron had been close to the dantonists executed in April, thereby making revenge and/or fear of being seen as ”guilty by association” a possible motive. The same thing can be said for other men traditionally described as dantonists that we know worked against Robespierre, such as Bourdon de l’Oise, Thuriot, Guffroy etc.

Guffroy (was one of ten deputies to have signed the pampleth Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal…) — disillusioned by the fact Robespierre and the rest of the CPS have failed/chosen not to act on the representative on mission Joseph Lebon after Guffroy multiple times had denounced him to them.

Bourdon d’Oise (spoke against Robespierre during the session of 9 thermidor) — Had spoken against the law of 22 prairial both June 10, 11 and 12, earning himself a reprimand from Robespierre on the latter of these dates. According to the memoirs of Pierre Nicolas Berryer, it was after this session Bourdon started plotting for Robespierre’s downfall, seeing in it ”a struggle to the death” between the two, and planning to on his own stab him to death with a cutlass.

Lecointre (author behind the pampleth Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal [sic] par neuf représentants du peuple contre Maximilien Robespierre, pour le poignarder en plein senat released shortly after thermidor) — Openly spoke against the law of 22 prairial when it was introduced on June 10, asking for an adjournment and applauding the deputy Ruamps when he said he would blow his brains out was the law to pass. In the above mentioned pampleth, he wrote that it was when he heard rumors Robespierre was the only person behind the law he decided to start working to undermine him.

So as can be seen, there’s not really a single motive for the conspirators, but a whole bunch of them. To understand them better, it is also important to remember just how the political climate looked like by the summer of 1794. I think it’s safe to assume the trials and executions of the hébertists and dantonists in March and April had unnerved several of the Convention deputies, the death of Danton in particular being seen as evidence that anyone could be declared a counter-revolutionary. Then just two months later, the law of 22 prairial gets introduced by Couthon and Robespierre, a law which strips the Convention of its exclusive rights to bring its own members to trial. This just two days after Robespierre has presided over the Festival of the Supreme Being, an event which had put several members a bit off. With all these things combined, I don’t think it’s fully unreasonable people would be willing to believe Robespierre was up to no good/planning to make himself a dictator, especially if someone was actively spreading/confirming that fear. It’s also important to keep in mind that on both sides of the conflict, the deputies were overworked, tired, irrational and suffering from the summer heat. I think thermidor is therefore best understood if we assume none of the men involved in it were necessarily on their most rational behaviour when things went down.

[ihaveforgortoomany]

Time spent and Schneider: more parallels to The Great Gatsby (story spoilers for everything before 1.9)

Again for a character with very little screentime, around 2 Books and less than 24 hours I seem to have alot to say on her and her impact on the narrative as a whole.

While Books 1 and 2 are set in the 1920s Jazz Age, more specifically I think it is set in the eyes of Scot Fitzgerald's view of the 1920s Jazz Age, focused on the hedonism personified in the nature of the Storm being manifested as gold and money replacing food. (While In Our Time was written by Hemingway, I have never read so I cannot fully explore that theme).

So.

Heres me talking about the failure of communication and relationships through the fickle nature of time and the time spent with others, featuring Schneider.

(Have a Vertin nui)

Gatsby and relationships

One of the core themes of the Great Gatsby by Fitzgerald is the failure of language to communicate meaning: what do I mean? What I mean is that all of the relationships in Gatsby ultimately fail or remain broken is because of the lack of communication, the ability to understand of empathise with others, keeping a barrier to truth and honesty under facades and lies.

For the sake of keeping this linked to R1999 I will just discuss the central couple Daisy and Gatsby. Not only does the relationship fail due to societal standards and the myth of the American Dream, at its core this is a tragic love story about two people who truly did not know each other in the slightest. Gatsby's true name was James Gatz, despite begging Daisy to be his alone, it is hypocritcial for him to demand fidelty depsite his own history of sleeping around. While the Book does spend alot of time looking at Daisy and Gatsby, to say these two innately knew each other is false, they met under Gatsby's facade of being from a rich background and had only knew each other for a few weeks and days before Gatsby went to war. Yet this was enough for Gatsby to commit the rest of his life to becoming someone Daisy would love and reunite with again, even if it was doomed to fail.

Reverse 1999 and time

So how does this relate to R1999? Ofc the theme of the game surrounds time, the cruelty of time being reversed and erasing people into non-existence but I would like to speculate that the game explores human connection as well.

For example, the Uluru event exploring how both Ezra and Spathodea try to overcome the differences and prejudices between arcanists and humans to work towards a shared goal and ultimately succeed, the stadium becoming a symbol of the joint efforts of arcanists and humans.

For Schneider, the time spent with her is few and far between, as the player and viewing Vertin we pick apart the scarce interactions and cling to the fragments her existence has left behind. We can research her background, the people and books and movies she was inspired by but truly we cannot understand her fully as a person. Regardless that does not change that fact that meeting her had an impact on both the player and Vertin and shaped the narrative, that connection with her even if it lasted less than 24 hours will carry on long after she is reversed.

This mirrors how in Gatsby, while the text is about him, his failed relationship with Daisy and the mystery about his identity we cannot fully understand him as a person with the fickle nature of time and his death. Time even if it isn't reversing into different eras and periods does often rob us of understanding each other, in reality someone like Vertin being born in the 1990s and Schneider in the 1920s would have likely never met had it not been for the Storm.

Does that mean meeting her was futile if she was a dead women walking? No. R1999 seems to hammer home that all time is important, and that we should value it no matter how long or short it maybe and ultimately carry forward. Even if Rayashki is gone, its values carry on in those who remain, even if Schneider and countless others who have disappeared in the Storm are gone, their existence still carries on in the people who remember them.

[felixstudios]

Playground Swap AU!

This is an AU that swaps out which playgrounds the 16 managers from 1.3 reside in as well as trying to strike a balance between their own personality and the personality of the Cog they're swapping places with. Additionally, "gimmicks" {usually the cheat or power the manager is most known for} are swapped. Some job titles are swapped, while some are not- and that one was completely random just to add to the chaos of this AU.

Credit to the creation of this AU belongs in part to @peachymunmagenta for giving me the initial idea and I basically took it and ran off with it. They also came up with the TTC/AA swap!

This post is considered the "master list" of this AU. That means over time I will edit it to include links of extra information/lore made in other posts.

31. August, 2023

New Management Changes - Effective Immediately!

It has come to our attention that our newly hired managers have not had the expected outcome of getting rid of the Toons. While progress has been made in slowing them down, that isn't enough. We will be experimenting with new corporate structures that will move some of you to different districts to see if this helps the Toon problem. Some of you have also changed departments- if that is the case, contact your new boss for your new uniform within 24 hours of receiving this notice or else YOU'RE FIRED.

The new assignments are as follows:

1. Toontown Central & Acorn Acres

Swapped pairs: Buck/Chip and Spruce/Brian

Buck Ruffler, Acorn Acres Kudos Manager

Duck Shuffler, level 50 Cashbot

Fight concept

-Gains an override so that his last minute changes to projects become efficient and more beneficial to the company

-A little more serious, but he's still pretty out there.

-Buck's override is triggered if he spins his slots and rolls 777 {and will deactivate with another 777}. Additionally, his other slot outcomes have been changed while the printing stays the same.

-During an override, Buck would be very similar to Chip in canon in that he'd be monotone and incredibly hostile to Toons {but his speech impediment would still be there lol}. I feel like in a battle this would be reflected by Buck doing more damage, his slot outcomes changing to things that are way more negative for Toons {but also WAY more random}, the inability to receive a 'bust' outcome, and/or getting more slot rolls per turn.

Chip Revvington, Toontown Central Street Manager

Chainsaw Consultant, Level 5 Bossbot

-He leaves firing employees more up to chance than anything

-Despite being such a low level, since he's a manager he can fire any non-manager Cog. He just couldn't fire any managers that are above him, which is fine for the company since they don't want layoffs that high up their management chain

-Without his override anymore and also some of Buck's personality, he becomes quite friendly and even slightly outgoing. He even jokes about his chainsaw and how scary it looks when he's nothing like that

-Has WAY less cheats since he's literally the first manager now. It would still operate based on an RPM meter, but it'd be WAY more straightforward and forgiving... Something like +1K/turn regardless of what attacks are used, cheats draining all his RPM regardless of when it was used or how much he has, only having 2-3 cheats {and just one RPM meter}, and each cheat's trigger is easy to figure out or is literally said to players.

Spruce Campbell, Toontown Central Kudos Manager

Treekiller, Level 12 Cashbot

-He strategically steals paper and logs {along with other resources} from the Toons

-Although he still SEEMS to talk and act exactly the same as in canon, this is now just an act he puts on for the Toons so they don't realize how genius he actually is

-Becomes a little full of himself, but not to unreasonable standards. He just likes to boast about himself a lot

-In battle, his cheats would both be annoying like Brian's and use some of the resources he's been stealing

Brian {no last name}, Acorn Acres Street Manager

Prethinker, Level 24 Sellbot

-He just works on more projects than before but becomes a bit more outspoken

-Is now okay with admitting he made mistakes and doesn't hold it against himself very much

-His cheats now reflect the resources around him and have an underlying theme of wood and acorns

-Since he's also later in the game, his cheats are more complex and allow for his strategic prowess to truly shine

-A bit bolder than before, which sometimes backfires on him. This is especially true if he accidentally makes a miscalculation

2. Barnacle Boatyard & Ye Olde Toontowne

Swapped pairs: Misty/Prester and Mary/Holly

Misty Monsoon, Ye Olde Toontown Kudos Manager

Witch Hunter, Level 20 Lawbot

-She convinces large groups of people to have class action lawsuits

-Will send out anonymous letters to Cogs in an attempt to get them riled up against Toons and start a witch hunt against specific Toons {usually whichever one hurt her the most that week}

-Still very quiet, but now it's because she's incredibly bitter and jaded towards everyone and doesn't wanna talk to anyone

-Still has self esteem issues, but she buries this really deep so that way nobody knows about it

-If she does speak, it's usually something really vague. She prefers to do her mob collecting from the shadows so as not to trace it back to her

Prester Virgil, Barnacle Boatyard Kudos Manager

Rainmaker, Level 16 Lawbot

-He gains weather changing abilities, which he uses to cause disasters and convince the company they need to make insurance claims {or sometimes normal Cogs}

-Doesn't use... as many big words

-A bit more soft spoken, but still pretty obnoxious about things

Mary Anna, Ye Olde Toontowne Street Manager

Deep Diver, Level 10 Boardbot

-She's put her defenses up and does her deep searches with more bias and sass

-With bias now comes sometimes overlooking things or having a confirmation bias where things might not get as thoroughly checked

-Mary is now also a perfectionist trying to work through this flaw in her performance because it's causing her a lot of stress

Holly Grayelle, Barnacle Boatyard Street Manager

Gatekeeper, Level 7 Boardbot

-Does extensive research into pretty much anyone she or the company wants to interact with, hire, ETC. to determine if they're allowed to or not

-A little more mellowed out and not so bad of a perfectionist anymore, but she hasn't completely toned it down

-Quieter, but it's because instead of talking so much she's observing. This will inform future judgements she makes about others, for better or for worse

3. Daffodil Gardens & The Brrrgh

Swapped Pairs: Cathal/Flint and Ben/Cosmo

Cathal Bravecog, The Brrrgh Street Manager

Firestarter, Level 20 Bossbot

-He tries to help out his dad from The Brrrgh, but he just seems to always cause problems

-Very chill and laid back manager who outwardly doesn't show much reaction to his mistakes... at first.

-Over time {and in battle this would be reflected by entering different phases}, he becomes more and more insecure about it until he's clearly pretty anxious and worried. This results in more severe mistakes being made and so the cycle goes on and on

-Tries to get praise from his dad, but he's pretty sneaky around the subject

-He will gain Flint's fire abilities, and it does NOT mix well with his anatomy that's not built to take the heat

Flint Bonpyre, Daffodil Gardens Kudos Manager

Multislacker, Level 24 Sellbot

-Flint is 'burnt out' and doesn't have the emotional capacity to do much work. This would be literally represented by the flame on his head always being very weak

-Very quiet since he just doesn't have the energy to speak much

-Spends most of his time kinda staring off into space or only putting in just enough effort to not get fired

Benjamin Biggs, The Brrrgh Kudos Manager

Bellringer, Level 38 Sellbot

-He gets to have a mafia of his own and they go around "convincing" people to buy from COGS, Inc.

-Uses gossip and blackmail to control everything, basically

-Not really much for getting himself into trouble anymore and is WAY more interested on just finding dirt on anyone and everyone in case he encounters them at some point and needs to "persuade" them

-Instead of Satellite Investors, he has Bell Boys... lol

Cosmo Kupier, Daffodil Gardens Street Manager

Plutocrat, Level 13 Cashbot

-He uses the power of his money to create quite a bit of gossip. Money talks for him a lot

-Whether it's starting fake rumors, starting true rumors, or hearing gossip about somebody, he's paying for it

-While they no longer appear in battle, his Satellite Investors still help him out with a lot of stuff

-His cheats would still be ice themed, but they wouldn't be as extreme both due to not having a frozen office and for being earlier in the line

4. Mezzo Melodyland & Drowsy Dreamland

Swapped pairs: Belle/Tawney and Dave/Graham

Belle Dama, Drowsy Dreamland Street Manager

-She delegates her work to other Cogs and has to frequently nap due to her age

Mouthpiece, Level 30 Lawbot

Design concept

-One of her cheats would literally be not attacking for like 2-3 turns but in return she gains like 50-60% of her health back

-But even though she's old and a bit more frail, she's still got hands to throw. AKA she can do a lot of damage!

Tawney Esta, Mezzo Melodyland Street Manager:

Featherbedder, Level 16 Bossbot

-They do their work with less napping and delegation basically I guess

-Maybe more social

-I really didn't know what else to put here

Dave Brubot, Drowsy Dreamland Kudos Manager

Pacesetter, Level 66 Sellbot

-He basically does his show but like... really fast

-As a star performer, he sets ALL the trends, babe! Both in the company and even on social media!

-You thought he didn't slow dance before? Well now he REALLY doesn't slow dance

-Becomes more self-absorbed, leading to a lot of posters of himself being hung up around his lobby and his stage

Graham Payser, Mezzo Melodyland Kudos Manager

Major Player, Level 28 Bossbot

-He's slowed down a bit and replaced it with more drama!

-Think you can take on someone as beautiful, stunning, and perfect as him? Think again!

-Even without his signature speed to help him, he's still quite the formidable opponent who will use his strength and ranking in the company to his advantage

-Also WAY more into performing and showing off. Somehow. Because he wasn't already maxed out here.

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #11: Symphonie Fantastique

Madness has taken hold at the Maidchen court. What always comes across as so easy here, is a real challenge, which unfortunately also takes its toll. I now have a real coffee problem by now, so I sometimes have heart palpitations at night. Then there's the incredible time pressure to present you with something cool that has to be ready in less than 24 hours.

If anyone asks why we're sitting in a three-person cell in a asylum by November, tell them it's because of absinthe, reading too much Lautréamont and hysteria. Please.

And that brings us right back to today's topic. Yesterday we escalated. Really. So much so that one girl is hoarse and the other is on the verge of tinnitus. Additionaly, one of our speakers died due to the volume and overdrive. Here you can listen a true masterpiece by Maidchen standards. We had to stop in between, because of laughing over and over, again and again. Both while writing and during the recording itself. Even while cutting. And even more so when the neighbor simply started practicing the tuba for unknown reasons. I didn't even know he had a tuba. It must be new. Totally surreal. But luckily, he didn't call the police on us. And you wouldn't believe how many takes we “indulged” in. (There were 26. 26!) I hope we can convey these moments of pure joy. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE WHOLE SONG TO GET THE VIBE! ;)

The reason for this was our contribution for today, Berlioz “Symphonie Fantastique” aka probably the creepiest piece of classical music that has ever existed. And thank you so much, @franzliszt-official for giving us this opportunity.

So, here’s our plot summary:

We really always wanted to write something about this masterpiece of brainf***, but unfortunately we didn't have the right idea - and you see: With a gun to your head, even the muse must speed up. Let’s see how far we can go with this. The plot of the symphony - just like the story before and after it - is so obscure that it has become a kind of running gag for us. Life (and art) can't write better stories. Never ever. And before I tell you the whole story, if you don't know it yet: there's a wonderful YouTube video with a short summary that I highly recommend you watch (the whole channel is amazing!!!). WTF, Berlioz, really, WTF.

Oh well, it's still about Liszt. Liszt was a huge fan (Really, Franz. I love you, but why? WHY?) of this symphony, just like Wagner (but nobody here give a shit about Richard‘s opinion anyway)  Franz may not have been directly involved in the creation of the “Symphonie Fantastique”, but his piano transcription and his interpretations made a significant contribution to this work becoming one of the most important works of Romantic music. Liszt made it accessible to a wider audience, interpreted it and developed it further, thus having a lasting influence on music history.

That's why we originally wanted to deal with the “Dies Irae” theme, but let's be honest… everything stinks against the main story.

And then there is the “Idée fixe”, the central theme of Berlioz's symphony, the beloved, who appears again and again musically as a motif and ultimately drives him mad. You could also apply this to the Maidchen. Fun fact: 97% of all our lyrics have a hidden hint to Franz. Sometimes so well that Lacelove doesn't even notice ;) Whoever finds them all: Get in touch. You'll get an exclusive shirt and your own song written. I promise.

Oh, dearest, dearest love, you surely will never know that I’m gonna write to you A symphony of love  in just one night Oh, dearest, dearest love, I only dream of you and in my longing I wish you were here Oh, dearest, dearest love, Where have you gone? You dance with a hundred others You erase me from your mind Oh, dearest, dearest love, Fate is not fair My sky, full of violins But my heart, it's so heavy So heavy I try to forget you On noble pastures The shepherds who soothed me Make their songs known But then I see you before me With a smile like a sword You belong to someone else now You're...not worth it That's why I'm whistling opium now And will just kill you. DIEEEE! DIIEEEEE! OH GOD! JUST DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE God alone knows, I will be judged for everything I have done and none of the heavenly angels will weep at my grave And so I see your face One last time before my face Oh, dearest, dearest love Why don't you save me? Oh, dearest, dearest love then it comes back to me You spawn of hell You are the queen of the witches. ORGIES! DAMN ORGIEEEEEEES! OH GOD! ORRRRRGIIIIIESSSS! Oh, dearest, dearest dearest, will you be angry with me? I invite you on the day of the premiere To find out Oh, dearest, dearest love then you'll be my wife Otherwise I'll threaten you with my own s*i*ide You know that very well IF YOU DON'T MARRY ME, I'LL K*** MYSELF! I'LL K**** MYSELF! AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!!!!! YAAAAAAAAA! And then, she actually married him.

[heylittleriotact]

I read the rules AFTER replying to the post. The title that most intrigues me is Senna Origins, because yeah, Senna. I might be a lil obsessed.

For you, anything! Thank you, friend 🥰

This is a portion from Senna’s backstory, which mostly focused on their upbringing and youth in the Feywild, and their activities within the Seelie Court as a young adult. I actually have yet to finish this because in the campaign that Senna exists in, they’re 472 years old and have spent around two centuries in the Material Plane and having to account for almost 500 years of being alive is… well it’s a lot.

I was picking them off one by one, pulling away pieces of a war machine that was driven by greed, privilege, and hubris. Lillian was becoming more and more powerful, her ideas were holding more sway, and I was becoming far too big for my britches: It was no longer enough for me to control the ebb and flow of the Seelie Court with my humble influence. I decided it was time to bless the Unseelie Court with my unique knack for taking out the trash as well.

(It’s vital to understand that the following decisions resulted in me ultimately drinking for roughly a decade straight in the Material Plane, and then sleeping for another 24 years to nurse away the cumulative hangover.)

Back when we had our silly little pissing contest with the Unseelie Court and Lillian and I were put on the front lines for a short time, the biggest battle we fought was against a monster named Baron of the Withering Spiritual Resilience - We called him Bows’r - He was big. He was mean. He was a graceless oaf (but really probably a lot more graceful than you know… un-Fey standards), and he led a battalion of four thousand to near victory against our own force. He was high ranking in the Unseelie Court, and I figured if I’d defused the powderkeg that was my own court, I may as well balance it out on the other side too.

I approached this differently though. There was a lot of sneaking, a lot of cloak and dagger, a lot more cloak, and a lot of being really, really careful that this didn’t get back to Lillian, or the rest of the Seelie Court, who still at best barely tolerated me.

See, my goal wasn’t to take down just Bows’r. My goal was to take down Bows’r, by goading him into an attempt on Oberon himself (actually knowing full well that I didn’t really have any kind of personal issue with Oberon, aside from the fact that he was one of them, and back then that was enough. Yes. I was an idiot, thanks.)

It would have worked spectacularly if I hadn’t suffered a betrayal within my own ranks which tipped Bows’r off, led him straight to Lillian instead of Oberon, and ultimately squared things such that the might of both Bows’r and Oberon were unjustly laid upon Lillian.

This was not just a matter of mistaken identity, a few bruises, and a socially awkward situation. The world of the fey is not so droll. No. This treachery meant that Lillian was implicated in the plot that was mine, and for the fact that Oberon’s name was even mildly associated, the perceived challenge was answered with the swift, practical retribution of The Hunter.

My love was taken away. Pierced by thirty-seven golden arrows even as I sought to buy her freedom with whatever means I could.

I watched it happen, I saw her face - content, relaxed - safe. I saw it fall to fear and surprise as the Green Lord appeared and took his prize, as triumphant and gleaming as any god would be in a tale told to you by someone else. I saw her curl, stretch, curl, shudder, and succumb on her feet to the wounds inflicted on her.

There was no time to explain, you see. Between my fatal error, Lillian’s false implication, and her blood on the mossy ground, less than a few hours had passed. There was no room to talk my way out, no way to talk her out, no army at our back, and nowhere else to go but… anywhere. And if you know even the loosest concept of anywhere, you know it means little to Oberon.

All I could do was watch as the Green Lord stooped and shouldered the body of a woman much larger than he, and all I could think of was the image of a hardened hunter hauling off a well-earned kill. Her blood trailed down his green shoulders and arms as he looked at me, without words.

“Release her,” I managed, from my broken and pitiful position on my knees. The hot tears that carved down my cheeks felt foreign and terrible. I felt, for the first time in my life, that I might be sick for the fear and grief that ruled my body now. I was no longer an instrument to the music: I had been swept up mercilessly in its unyielding fury.

The Green Lord’s cheek curled in a wry smile. “Set a trap, spring the line, and request from me that which is mine?” Lillian’s form was shifted up higher on the shoulder, and I swallowed back the gag that forced its way into my throat when I heard a bit of blood drip out of her own onto the forest floor. I forced myself to my feet, horribly aware of the soil and plant-life wedged deeply under my fingernails, horribly aware of the dryness of my own mouth and the wetness of my pants as I ignored the quaking in my knees and the sharp metallic flavour of fear on the back of my tongue warning me that my life was in very severe danger. I breathed in as deeply as I could - a shallow and sad attempt at best - but I forced my head high, forced my expression blank, and willed my forsaken knees still. There was music in this nightmare too. There had to be. I just needed to listen.

I looked Oberon in the face. In the eyes. And I said (as if it mattered, which around the Feywild, it very may well):

“Let her go, please.”

And he laughed in my face and disappeared from the forest in I don’t know… a fucking raincloud or something probably.

And he took Lillian with him. He took Lillian. My love, my queen, my hero. My best friend. My only real friend.

The problem - the real problem aside from him murdering my lover in front of my eyes for a crime that was not hers - was that he also took my child. My child that Lillian had only told me about moments before Oberon’s intrusion.

My beloved, and my future: Gone in the time it takes a leaf to fall from a tree.

[thornvault]

Kali Introduction Post

As I've previously threatened, here's info on my Magnifico ship OC (shoutout to @king-magnifico-haven who actually asked for this!! You're so special to me rn 🩷)

Keep in mind that Kali is still a VERY new concept (originally created less than 24 hours ago at the time of writing this, though it may take me a minute to post) so a lot of this information is very likely subject to change. I have the basic idea, but as I toy around with the story I'll be thinking of new things. I'm impatient though so I'm posting what I got so far anyway!

Please be kind to the art. I don't like drawing humans so I don't do it very often 😆

Summary: Kali is in their mid-20s, nonbinary (they/them); they start out as Magnifico's apprentice and eventually become a Dark Mage, but in a good way. They're mastering that damn book. Kicking its butt. They're very motivated. Powerful OCs are cool and sexy!

Personality: Kali is soft-spoken but firm. They are most comfortable being in the background and much prefer to take orders than give them, but they're capable of taking charge if the situation demands it. They are outwardly polite and without much of a temper, though they have a mischievous side that they may show once they feel comfortable. Still new to the concept of safety, they can be a bit skittish and a people-pleaser, but they'll unlearn those habits in time. Once they grow more accustomed to their new home, they'll gradually become more outspoken as time goes by.

Plot: The main change to the movie for this AU is that there are several months or even years between Asha's failed interview and the rest of all that plot. Instead of immediately making a Wish Upon A Star™ and being heard, it stews a while, maybe Asha even gets her own little underground rebellion going before Star ever shows up. Let there be a proper plot. Once she turns 18, she'll just choose to keep her wish, what's Magnifico going to do about it? He may not like it but it does seem like a voluntary thing to do so he's not going to force her. For now.

Anyway. Onto Kali. They're relatively new to Rosas, a war fugitive from a place I haven't yet named. Kali has seen more than their fair share of suffering and loss. The Kingdom of Rosas always sounded like a fairytale to them, they never fully believed it to be real until they found it. Welcomed to a safe haven in exchange for nothing, they feel indebted to the people, and Magnifico especially, for taking them in.

Their Wish™ is to be able to help, to make a difference - however small - in the lives of people and all living beings. The pain they've endured has made them gentle, not cold, and they just want to make things better. Their past reminds Magnifico of his own, and seeing their wish when they give it to him, he offers them the position of his assistant - what better way to help than by learning magic, after all? Kali turns out to be fairly talented in it. It'll take a while to learn all the spells and potions and whatnot, but they clearly have the potential.

We all know why I'm here, of course. As surely nobody who's ever met me could have guessed, this mentor/student arrangement turns into an affair, which then turns into the real deal. Only there is the small problem of the Queen who may not be entirely on board with this concept. Sorry Amaya.

I haven't entirely figured out how things will play out here, only that Kali will stand by Magnifico and try to help as he slowly slips off the deep end, whereas Amaya just sort of drops him the second he starts glowing (really, Kali felt bad for her, but if she wanted to keep him she should've treated him better). It's not that they fully agree with his methods, but A) he's their mentor, surely he knows best; and B) he's not entirely wrong. Yeah, people should get their wishes back if they want them, it's THEIR wishes after all, but damn you're not even going to ask him nicely? Just break in and steal them after he's spent years keeping them safe for you? And he's clearly not doing well so they're sort of stuck between being supportive and trying to steer him into another direction, it's a weird position to be in.

Anyway, let's assume we're still going with movie canon to some degree and the ending still happens. Amaya offers Kali a position as High Mage; though wishes will of course no longer be taken nor granted, magic can still be useful. They may continue their studies by themself and continue living in the castle. It doesn't feel right at all, and they miss Magnifico.

So Kali does the unthinkable, and gets out that book. They're careful, very careful, but they have a lot more time now than Amaya and Dahlia did, and there has to be some way to free him. Getting him out of the mirror sounds easy enough, though it does require using spells from the forbidden book. But then there's the whole deal with unbinding him - well, at that point both of them, really. They visit him in the dungeon as often as they can without arousing suspicion, but it does take a long time for them to find a way to do all that.

And that's the story of how Kali begins to study forbidden magic and ways to use it safely, and revolutionizes the entire concept of how magic works. They can do it because they have genuinely good intentions with it and know how to keep their emotions in check. They got a pure heart. Come on, it's Disney, bear with me here. That makes sense in-universe. Magnifico gets fixed by True Love's Kiss and you can take that from my cold dead hands.