#the rock tells me things that i ought to do and it makes me think the things i am are not so good &c &c

[livingdeaddoctor]

well boys i think we gotta pack it up for the night

[kurooh]

WORLD CLASS SINNER ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you nasty.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, car sex, creampies, overstimulation, crying, spanking, slight public sex, mirror sex, spit, hair pulling, freaky shit, motorcycle sex, riding (multiple things), filming, squirting, cunnilingus. | 4.7K words

xoxo, juno. happy belated birthday to satoru <3

GOJO SATORU.

“for the record, i love you,” satoru pecks a kiss to your cheek and his lips smack, “it is december 7th and ‘m getting my gift early.”

“it is not early!” you protest, snatching the phone from him and wiggling over to the side so you can mount it on the tall dresser. the camera app is open, overlooking the bed and ready to record satoru’s birthday celebration this year. bits of dry frosting color the corners of his lips, serving as the evidence of the cake you made him yourself.

“uh, no need to move so much,” satoru exhales coolly, hands finding purchase on your hips, “you said we’d take it slow, didn’t ya?”

“that was then,” you purr, voice low and sultry, “and this is now. unless . . you actually want me to?”

he shakes his head immediately, cheeks flushing a rosy pink while he pouts his lips. satoru sneaks a glance downwards, diamond eyes feeling a little wet at the sight — you’re sitting on his cock, with your cunt squeezing just above the creamy ring at his base.

“i thought so, ‘toru,” you giggle, blowing a kiss in the direction of the camera. it’ll surely add to the excitement when he’s watching this by himself some time along — after all, nothing else can get him off. your hands splay out on his chest, nails grazing his skin lightly.

“anyway, i’ve just been thinking . . and you’ve been such a good boy this year. i ought to spoil you for your birthday, hm?”

“what did you just call me?” satoru sputters, biting back a laugh although his voice trembles. “did you just say—”

the words die on his tongue immediately. your expression twists into one of pure bliss as you start to rock your hips into him, setting up a decent pace that has you crying out in delight. of course, he has no choice but to join you, his head tipping back while his eyes trace your features. god, you feel good — so tight, so hot, and oh so perfect. but sex feels even better because he’s pleasing you; seeing you falling apart on his cock all because of him will always get him going.

“shit, baby,” satoru gasps, groaning loudly when your fingers tangle in his snowy hair, “faster, please.”

you nod frantically, lifting yourself up and slamming back down on his cock so hard it’s like you’re being split open in the best way possible. out of habit, your fingers wander to your clit, and he pushes them away the moment he sees.

“no, don’t,” he replaces your fingers with his own and lets his free hand settle at the small of your back for support, “let me do it, babe.”

“toru,” you whimper as he flicks the sensitive bud around, “y-you always make me feel so good.”

“‘course i do, sweetheart,” he grunts, starting to jerk his hips upward. each deep thrust pushes his cock into places only he can touch, and your mouth falls open, face crumbling. “here, jus’ arch your back a little—yeah, you got it.”

satoru’s voice wavers as he tells you what to do, setting up a new position and angle for him to fuck into you at. beads of sweat roll down his temples while his chest heaves in exertion, the best kind — he’s never truly gotten tired when he’s fucking you. not only does he have the stamina of a wild stallion, but really, how could he get tired when you’re looking like an angel above him, crying out his name in a voice that’s a harmony if he’s ever heard one.

“so fuckin’ beautiful,” satoru grits out, eyes regretfully squeezing shut for a moment, “god, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezin’ like that.”

curses and sobs of euphoria fall from your lips. as the seconds pass, you’re only getting more intoxicated by the heat between you. misty tears make your eyes shine, and arousal pools deep in your stomach, growing more pronounced with each shove of his cock into your sweet spot. your legs are trembling on either side of him, and your tummy’s slightly more rounded than usual—satoru’s cock is in your guts.

he feels you start to tense up, notices a few stray tears falling down your cheeks. this is it. “l-look at me, baby,” satoru pleads, as if he’ll die without it, “look at me when you cum.”

it’s perfect — you look directly into his eyes, and the camera captures your orgasm perfectly. your cunt flutters and spasms around his cock, and you’re shaking so hard you fall on top of him, flinching away from his insistent fingers. it takes everything he has to hold the urge to cum back, but he manages to pull it off, not even spilling a drop.

“toru,” you mumble into his chest, shivering as he strokes away the sweat on your back, “why didnt you—?”

“savin’ it,” he breathes, teeth sinking into his lower lip in an attempt to try and ignore the way your walls are flexing around him. “hmph. as the birthday boy, i expect you to blow another candle for me.”

your head lifts immediately and you shoot him a glare, eyes narrowed in faux annoyance. “you did not just say that.”

“careful, careful,” he hisses, hands flying to your hips, “don’t wanna accidentally cum right now.”

“right, but you’ll never push me off,” you challenge him, playfully wiggling against his pelvis.

“that is not fair!” satoru whines, looking ridiculous with the dried blue frosting at the corners of his lips. “don’t torture me, pleaseee.”

GETO SUGURU.

“keep your eyes open, sweetheart.”

“‘m sorry, sugu, i just—”

his hand comes down hard against your ass, and the crack of the slap reverberates through the room. you shudder, blearily opening your eyes and looking into the mirror.

behind you, suguru’s flipping a bit of his dark hair over his shoulder and out of the way while holding onto your waist to keep you steady. you can see how pathetic you look in your reflection — drool freely slips from your mouth and you look completely dazed, all sweaty and tired while hearts spin in your eyes.

“hm, that’s more like it. want you to watch yourself, honey.”

you nod, eyes tracing the edges of your thighs and ridges of his abs in the reflection. suguru’s got you on your hands and knees, making you look fucked out and fucked up.

“s-sugu, i wanna touch my clit—it’s not enough.”

he raises a dark brow, eyes narrowing as you slip a hand between your thighs and find your clit with your fingers. now, he settles his hands at your hips, lifting you up slightly to pound into you at a new angle.

“alright. only if you don’t fall over, sweetheart.”

what a bastard. of course he has to set you up with an impossible condition like that — the new placement of his hands is the first sign of your literal downfall. suguru closely observes your reflection in the mirror before his own: you’re covered in bite marks and hickeys, with a sheen of sweat all over your body, which makes your skin look sticky. your tits swing, building momentum each time he slams into you.

beneath the sound of ass clapping, suguru can hear your pathetic, fucked out cries—this is the result of too many orgasms and being an annoying brat to him all day. his blood boils with both frustration and arousal when he recalls a particular memory, so he reaches forward, gathering your hair into one hand before pulling you backwards. messing around with your hair is something that holds a special place in his heart; he loves it whenever you touch his hair in any way, and the same goes for yours.

“takin’ it like such a slut,” suguru croons, his dark tresses falling into his face, “but i really can’t hear you that well. thought i made myself clear when i said i want the whole apartment building to hear how well i fuck you.”

“y-yeah, you did,” you gasp, back arching beautifully, “sugu, need you to touch my clit.”

he smiles wickedly. instead of allowing yourself to fall forward, you’ve decided to give up and steady yourself at the expense of rubbing your clit. suguru almost wants to give you a reward for that.

“not right now, honey,” he revels in the frustrated sob you let out, watching in the mirror as your face crumbles in some kind of distress. so dramatic, he thinks after mentally laughing. as if he’d leave you unsatisfied — how many times have you cum so far? “someone’s fucking greedy, hm? tell you what, sweetheart. cum without your clit ‘n i’ll eat your pussy up right after.”

it’s a good enough deal, and it only seems more enticing when he sticks his tongue out in the mirror, showing off the silver ball in the middle of it. his tongue piercing, and your favorite part of him eating you out.

“o-okay,” you agree tearfully, and he tugs you back by the hair so you’re facing him.

“tell me, tell the neighbors, who’s fucking you this good? answer me, honey.”

“you, suguru!” you moan loudly, feeling a surprising pressure building in your lower stomach, “i-it’s you, ‘s always you!”

suguru nods, letting go of your hair and slipping his hand beneath your chin rather gently. then he lifts your head and tips it back. “open that pretty mouth for me.”

you oblige immediately, going so far as to stick your tongue out for him. he spits right onto your tongue, and it tastes a little minty because of his chapstick and tea when you swallow. the gesture is an erotic expression of dominance and possession, and it’s one that has your cunt quivering around his cock. he lets you go, making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“oh, i feel you squeezing me,” he grunts, smacking your ass and groaning when your cunt automatically bears down harder. “looks like i’ll be devouring that sweet pussy of yours, honey.”

“hah, i need it,” mascara tracks darken your cheeks as fresh tears roll down, “t-think ‘m gonna cum, jus’ like you asked.”

“such a good girl for me,” he praises, egging you on by pressing his palm into your lower stomach, “my girl listens so well, doesn’t she? cum for me.”

the creaking of the bed grows louder as he pounds his cock into you harder, forcing a mixture of slick and cum to pour out from your used hole in glossy strings that stick to your thighs. he’s breathing heavily behind you, pressing into your tummy just right, and oh.

oh, you’re about to make a fucking mess.

a pitched sob tears from your throat when you cum on his cock, pussy gushing all over him and onto the bedsheets. sparkling droplets of cum race down your thighs and your entire body shakes on his cock, gripping him so tightly that neither of you can move.

“s-sugu, ‘m tired,” you gasp, stars flashing across your vision. “feeling kinda . . lightheaded.”

“you’ve gotta rest, sweetheart,” suguru laughs, and it rumbles out from the depths of his chest. he leans so far backwards his back cracks, and then he hands you an open bottle of water.

“what—what’s the record now?”

“ten in an hour,” he strokes your back with loving fingers, curling up beside you even though you’re upside down on the bed together. “let’s try to break it again in a couple hours.”

“how about tomorrow?” you suggest with a yawn.

“okay, okay. tomorrow night, my balls are shriveling up right now.”

“ew, sugu.” your nose crinkles and you scoot an inch away, too exhausted to move further.

“oh, stop it. it’s your fault anyways.”

NANAMI KENTO.

“kento—kennn,” you whine breathlessly, glossy lips parting to release a useless warning. “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, shit!”

“let me feel it, sweetheart,” kento croons, pressing his thumb particularly hard into your clit. the additional pressure has your head spinning too fast for you to even come up with a coherent thought as you orgasm with a drawn out whine on his cock for the nth time tonight. “that—that’s my good girl.”

beneath your bodies, the polished oak desk creaks dangerously, sounding far too tired for something that’s worth thousands. but kento doesn’t give one damn — he’d been stuck working overtime because of his shitty boss, who’d left him cooped up in his office, expecting his orders to be followed. the ultimatum was simple: do a ton of work or get fired.

kento had been so caught up he didn’t get the chance to call you, and the stress he’d been feeling began to ebb away once you stepped through his door with a bag of food from his favorite restaurant. one thing led to another, and soon enough the food had been abandoned somewhere and you ended up on the desk.

papers lazily drift off the desk’s surface while others are inevitably dampened by a mixture of wetness and spit, which leaks from your puffy cunt in thick trails down your skin. again and again, kento’s cock pushes even deeper, the blunt tip of it kissing your cervix rather roughly. meanwhile, his fingers toy with your swollen clit, drawing unrestrained cries from your lips while tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“ken, ‘s too much, i don’t think i can—”

“of course you can take more, angel,” kento huffs, firmly planting his hand beside your head for extra stability. the platinum of his watch glints in the light and his heavy breaths grow more ragged by the second, his chest heaving. sweaty strands of blond hair escape the gel’s hold, sticking to his slick forehead and making him look all the more ethereal above you. “i-i’m nowhere near finished with you.”

“oh god,” you whimper in realization, feeling that hot wave cresting in your tummy; it’s amplified by the rough rhythm of his cock and the attention he’s so generously lavishing your clit with. “g-god, ‘s coming . . ken, i think i’m gonna—”

a deep groan rushes out from him, all the way from the pits of his chest. hazel eyes squint as he watches your pussy push his cock out; it quivers momentarily before spraying cum all over his pelvis, and the sparkling droplets drip through his pubes, toward the shaft of his cock.

“did you just squirt, sweetheart?” kento asks curiously, heat rising to his cheeks and elsewhere.

“i think so,” you swallow nervously, too weak to sit up and look at the mess you’ve made all over him. “ken, i want you to cum inside me. stop holding it back.”

to be fair, this is probably the last time he’ll get the pleasure of fucking you on such an expensive desk. this despicable office he’s spent countless hours in is finally growing on him now that he’s got you in here like this — stripped naked and begging for his cum while making a mess of the shit all over his desk. and oh, he wishes he could see his boss’ face when he comes in demanding all of the finished work, only to be met with a sticky desk. the vision ignites an inferno in him and he guides his cock inside you, biting down on his lower lip when your greedy cunt swallows him.

“beg a little more for it, angel,” he chokes out, spreading your legs impossibly wider while drawing his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. “need to know just how you want it.”

you gasp sharply, back arching off the desk and causing your tits to press into his clothed, sweaty chest. “i want you to fuck me like you mean it. t-then, fill me up. please.”

you can’t even say another word before kento’s holding your hips down and plowing into you with a sudden ferocity. if he’s lucky, he can get you to squirt again and maybe this time he can get a taste—yes, this is the thought he wants to cum to.

he shudders, “i love it—ugh, fuck—when you tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“give it to me,” you cry out, eyes fluttering shut while your legs wrap tightly around his waist, drawing him closer. “h-haven’t i earned it, ken?”

kento comes undone at your words, teeth clenching with a loud grunt as he finally spills inside you. your squeezing walls milk him for everything he has, absorbing each throb of his cock into their sticky softness. his mouth hangs open breathlessly, and he weakly pushes his hips forward before carefully landing on top of you.

wood splinters and snaps beneath you, and you both tumble to the floor atop a heap of the desk’s remains. “kento, what just happened—”

“it’s fine, honey. let’s rest for a moment before we leave.”

“you aren’t gonna clean it up? what about when you have to come in tomorrow?”

kento nuzzles his nose into your cheek with a blissful sigh. “thank you for making my last day at this job special. i’ll be quitting and moving to the other firm closer to the house.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“this is what ya wanted?” with a coy chuckle, toji flattens his tongue against your slit and licks a long, languid stripe upwards. he easily finds your clit, and swirls the sensitive bud around with the tip of his tongue.

“yeah, but not the teasing—” a breathy gasp pushes past your lips when he pushes two slick fingers inside you.

“heh heh. you’ll survive a little teasin’, dollface.”

he’s so flippant with his words, so nonchalant. but his fingers are anything but lazy or uncaring as he bullies them deeper into your cunt, curling them right against that sweet spongy spot inside you. with one leg over his shoulder and the other hanging off the edge of the backseat, you’re fully spread and at his mercy.

“come onnn, toji,” he rolls his eyes when he hears you whine, tonguing at the glossy slick that covers his fingers and the skin around your hole.

“you come on, princess. just wait a second, ‘kay?”

“but i’ve been waiting,” you huff, lower lip trembling in frustration as your fingers push through the dark tufts of his hair. you can’t help but breathe a little heavier, the building anticipation becoming suffocating in the small space of the car. “all night. since we left to go hang out with shiu.”

“don’t tell me that’s why you’ve been so handsy, doll. hmph, i had to pull over so ya wouldn’t make me crash the car.”

“i wasn’t even doing—”

“that much?” toji finishes your sentence for you, the corners of his lips quirking upwards when you look at him desperately. “weren’t ya trying to get in my pants while i was going sixty?”

before you can respond, toji interrupts your train of thought by spitting right onto your clit. the glossy glob trails down his fingers and becomes extra lube for him — he wraps his lips around your clit and starts to sporadically curl his fingers. heat sears its way across your face and your back arches off the backseat, eyes briefly scanning around to make sure the road’s still empty.

it’s dark out and difficult to tell, but what does it matter? there’s no need to focus on spotting other cars, you reason.

“ah, fuck!” the expletive leaves your lips in the form of a startled mewl, a delicious reaction to toji lightly nibbling at your clit with his teeth. the gesture is playful but it drives you wild and makes your head spin, thoughts turning into mush. “toji, that—that feels really good . . ”

impatient as ever, you push his head down, forcing his face into your pussy in a greedy attempt to get more.

“ah ah,” he snaps upwards, pulling free from your grip and moving on top of you easily. you’re nose to nose and he’s speaking directly over your lips, sharing your breath. “i get to eat this pussy my way. she’s all mine, don’t forget that.”

“f-fine,” you cede with a pout, which he kisses away, feeling proud of himself.

“be a good girl ‘n maybe you can ride my face. how’s that sound, doll?”

“it sounds good,” you squeeze your eyes shut when he finally returns to his old position between your thighs, two fingers stuffing your cunt while his tongue laps at your clit as though it’s the best ice cream ever. the temperature in the car seems to spike; your body’s growing hotter and hotter with each lick or curl of his fingers.

“greedy pussy wants some more, hm?”

“h-huh?” you ask dumbly, a little zoned out.

but toji doesn’t repeat himself. instead he shows you what he said by pushing a third finger into your already crowded hole, smirking in satisfaction when you suck him in despite your verbal protests of it being ‘too much’. toji’s big, every part of him, and you always take him even though you complain — what can he say?

“a-ah, so fuckin’ full,” you slur your words, rocking your hips into his fingers to make the stretch burn a little less. “tojiii, go slow.”

“again, girl,” he huffs, rolling his eyes dramatically, “don’t tell me what to do. ‘n you’ll be just fine, this pussy was made for me.”

there’s no point in arguing, so you just let your head lazily lean back against the door. you were supposed to look around for cars, especially police cars, and you’ve given up entirely, deciding to blame your inability to search on the foggy windows.

toji scissors his fingers in and out of you mercilessly, sucking your clit roughly and groaning to express his enjoyment. the wet squelches of your cunt make your cheeks burn hot; it’s just so filthy that you don’t even know how to react. on either side of his head, your thighs tremble, squeezing around him every now and then.

“mmm, you’re so fuckin’ sweet,” he smacks his lips loudly and devours your pussy in between each word, “shouldn’t have made you wait so goddamn long, dollface.”

“i told you,” is all you can utter, hips twisting wildly into his face, “jus’ like that, keep sucking my clit—fuck, yes. ‘m so close, gonna make me cum.”

“aw, i’m gonna make you cum?” he teases you, mocking your tone in a way that has shockwaves of excitement and anger shooting straight through your body. you can’t even find it in yourself to answer, and a sudden flash of red and blue has your eyes squeezing tightly shut.

“‘m cumming, ‘m c-cumming, toji!”

instead of using his tongue on your clit, toji decides to sit back and watch your cunt spasm. to prolong your orgasm and overstimulate you, he slaps your clit a few times, chuckling each time you jerk or nearly scream happily.

“hmph, ya ougtta taste yourself,” toji pulls his fingers out of you and shoves them into your mouth, feeling his cock swell in his pants as your tongue cleans his skin. it’s even better when you moan as you do so, thoroughly enjoying the taste of your cum. “how’s that, baby? if ya can sit up without any help, i’ll let you ride my face.”

a sharp knock on the window startles you, and the bright light of an officer’s flashlight shines in through the foggy glass. without wiping his face, toji reaches into the front seat and turns on the car, then rolls down the window. the light illuminates the glossy cum all over the lower half of his face, and yet he smiles widely.

“good evenin’, officer. what can i do for ya?”

KAMO CHOSO.

“keep it s-steady, baby,” despite his words, choso’s voice shakes, slightly muffled by his helmet. “gentle on the throttle—nghhh, fuck.”

one of his gloved hands is firmly holding onto your hip, gripping hard each time your cunt squeezes around his cock. the sky is now a dark curtain of nighttime, darkness speckled with stars above. in front of you, car lights flash occasionally out on the road. street signs are caught in the bright columns of the motorcycle’s headlights, greens and yellows glinting in the white glow.

you bounce your ass back on choso’s lap, nibbling at your lower lip and allowing a whimper to slip past your teeth. his cock is buried inside you, nestled deep in your hot, sticky walls and extremely sensitive. he lightly strokes his free fingers against your clit, but not too often that it’ll be a distraction—after all, you’re driving a motorcycle.

“there’s a light up ahead,” choso points out, heatwaves crashing over him despite the cool breeze.

“i see it, cho.”

the motorcycle slows as you apply the brake, and you smoothly stop at the light. instead of remaining bent forward, you sit back onto his lap, taking in the last few inches of his cock. choso startles beneath you with a gasping moan and rolls your clit between his fingers.

“cho,” you whimper breathlessly, leaning your head into his shoulder, “gimme a kiss.”

“okay,” he whispers, leaning in slowly. the helmets clash together, but he manages to peck his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. you whine when the light turns green, sitting forward to take off again. this time, your face burns as you steady your feet, and the position allows you to bounce back on his cock with newer efficiency.

“shit,” choso gasps, bucking his hips upwards to match your rhythm, “i—hah, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

it’s dangerous in so many ways, but you look over your shoulder at him and he sees the heat in your eyes. it’s almost like you’re daring him to bust a nut inside you while you drive his motorcycle—god, that’s exactly what you’re doing. normally, choso doesn’t enjoy playing truth or dare, but he’ll make an exception for his girl.

with one hand on your hip, he tugs you down onto his cock and jerks himself upwards to make it a little easier for you. tears prick at the corners of your eyes like they always do whenever you take his cock — he’s stretching you out and filling you up so perfectly that it’s impossible not to become overwhelmed.

“faster, baby—t-there’s nobody on the road, you can put s’more gas into it.”

so you do, watching the needle in the speedometer increase as the motorcycle gains speed. choso moans loudly, his face flushing dark red beneath his helmet while his eyes flutter shut for a moment. “g-gonna cum, baby, tell me i can, tell me i can—”

each word grows more urgent, and his voice begins to splinter and break as he begs you for permission. his fingers carelessly toy with your clit, thumb rubbing quick circles around the bud and enticing you to cum with him. you feel dizzy, seeing stars flash across your vision each time you bounce down on his cock, not to mention the additional stimulation on your clit. something hot burns in your stomach and seems to rush throughout every limb in a way that has your body and mind going numb momentarily.

“cum in me, choso,” you sob desperately, gripping the handlebars frantically, “cum with me, cum with—oh, fuck.”

your mouth falls open in shock as you have the most explosive orgasm you’ve ever had with him; your cunt flutters around his cock, drawing him deeper as if it’s the last time you’ll be together.

choso starts to babble thoughtlessly, praises and gasps falling from his lips like the words of a prayer. “yeah, ‘m cumming—ngh, i l-love you, god you’re jus’ so perfect.”

he finally spills inside you, spraying white hot cum so deep it’ll take hours to drip out. the motorcycle wavers, lurching forward toward the next set of lights. beneath the helmets, you’re both panting, coming down from your highs and trying to focus even though you’re feeling a euphoric numbness spread through your body. when his thumb nudges your clit, you jerk as though you’ve been electrocuted, whining from the sensitivity.

“are you okay?” he asks lowly, voice ragged while his hand massages at your side.

“y-yeah, i’m okay. i just—i need to do that again.”

choso laughs, causing you to do so as well. “maybe in a few more minutes. how ‘bout we change up the position so you’re on your back? if we do, i’ll be able to see that pretty face.”

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x TALKACTIVE!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: this is so me.. i talk way too much so i'm lowkey just projecting myself on here. anyways, requests are open but i'm taking my time replying since i've been busy so just keep that in mind!

▸ hyun-ju is a good listener. a great one, even. she's got a big heart and soul, she's someone who is willing to listen to whatever you have to say. and she doesn't just listen, she tries to understand. which is a quality that is hard to find these days.

▸ you noticed it a bit later in your relationship. every time you talk, she listens and isn't afraid to ask questions regarding your situation or interest. she's genuinely invested in what you have to say. "oh, really? tell me more, hon."

▸ even if you just say random things or suggestions related to literally anything, she's all ears! whatever is going on in your head, every single sentence you utter, she's always nodding a long. she's probably wondering how you managed to say three sentences in a second.

▸ you tend to get very extroverted when you get comfortable. you'd ramble about anything for hours and hours, hyun-ju finds this adorable. she's definitely admiring you as you speak, your words always find a way to her heart.

▸ if you were talking about something she has no clue in, she's gonna research about it either online or in books so she could talk about it with you! even if small mistakes slip, her efforts show. and you appreciate that more than ever.

▸ "wait, you watched the movie and read the book?" — "yeah! i thought it would be nice to discuss it with you. you talked about it nonstop last week, so i figured i'd give it a look, and i must admit- you do have amazing taste."

▸ good moods mean you'd go on walks with hyun-ju and visit multiple parks at once. pointing out random birds, trees, and flower types. speaking whatever crossed your mind in specific moments.

▸ "oh look! a daisy. did you know daisies bloom in the spring like every other flower and their last bloom is in autumn? though, that's very common, um. ah! moon flowers, they only bloom one night a year." you'd giggle, "i did not know, but i do now!" hyun-ju smiles.

▸ during movies you can get very quiet. but as the movie ends, you'd ramble quicker than speed itself. "it's okay. at best. i just don't understand why the characters would do such things! i guess it is fictional, but still! does logic not exist in that universe?"

▸ same thing with books, you can read for hours in silence, but as soon as you close the book... "hyun! you must read this! not only is this one of a kind, but once you read it you can not put it down. i love it so much, it made me tear up a bit because of a character, but, um. okay, no spoilers!"

▸ hyun-ju could get really lost in your voice sometimes. you'd be talking about something silly like rocks or something, and she'd still be mesmerized. hyun-ju thinks that your voice could easily soothe her to sleep.

▸ and it's true, your voice makes her feel so safe. during conversations, she gets sudden realizations of how lucky she truly is. to be able to listen to you, in a calm setting, just the two of you.

▸ if you send her voice notes, she'd listen to it on repeat. especially when she's away or vice versa, she loves hearing your voice over and over as it gives ger comfort.

▸ "hey, hyun! i know you're really busy, and i know you only listen to my voice notes when you're done with work, so i ought to tell you about how much i love you. and how much i miss you. don't forget to tell me goodnight, or not the bed bugs might bite me."

▸ she would never think of your ongoing talks as unimportant. if you would suddenly pause and stop talking, she'd notice immediately. but hyun-ju always reassures you that it's perfectly okay.

▸ if you feel tired or off, and you just wanna be quiet for a bit, hyun-ju likes to ramble too, she does it a bit more often ever since she's met you. her voice is sleepy, her head lays near yours, your bed is cold and hyun-ju is the only source of warmth. as she traces your hands, "do you wanna know what happened earlier in the office?" you'd nod, she'd talk and only stop when you've completely fallen asleep.

▸ "and that's the end of it. goodnight, angel." she'd place a kiss on your forehead before falling asleep herself.

[avocado-writing]

Omg Avo could I please have an Astarion x fem!virgin reader 👀 he can taste it in her blood and decides to reward/tease her for allowing him to drink from her 🤭 you’re literally the best I love you so much

notes: MWAH love you too darling. working on a longer astarion x virgin reader piece so this is just short and filthy 😌

pairing: astarion x reader

rating: E

You’re trying to tell yourself it’s not sexual. 

You’re trying. 

It could just be two friends helping each other out… in theory. You could let him feed from you while you’re asleep, awake the next morning none the wiser save for a smarting pain in your neck and a little wooziness. 

But you don’t. You insist you’re conscious for the experience. And you absolutely cannot hide what it does to you. 

You’re in Astarion’s tent, sitting in his lap as he rests his back up against a comfortable pile of cushions; your shirt unbuttoned and rolled down so that it gathers at the top of your breasts. They’re heaving in a way which borders on obscene, hardened nipples rubbing up against his chest, and you know he loves it. You can feel the smile beneath his fangs while he drinks deeply from the wound he’s made in your neck; hot wild blood thrums through you and blossoms onto his tongue, making you shiver all over. 

He breaks to meet your eyes with a grin, mouth all ruby with you. 

“There we are, pet. Don’t try to hide it. I want to hear you.”

“Ah!-Astarion,” you choke. Your voice is thick, getting caught in your throat with the heady pleasure wracking your body, and it only makes him more pleased. “People will hear…”

“Let them, darling. Let them all know what I’m doing to you. How much you love to be taken apart by me, piece by piece, until you’re just a shaking little mess.”

You moan properly at that, rutting down into his lap like an animal. He chuckles and you feel it reverberate through his body, where your skin presses against his. 

“I know so much about you, darling. Things your sweet blood gives away. I know you’re a virgin. I can taste it.”

That shouldn’t be as erotic as it is; in fact you ought to be so embarrassed that you bury your face to try and hide the heat in it. But all you can think about is how good it is, rocking your hips down to grind against the bulge in his trousers. His stiff cock catches your clit through your clothes and you gasp, totally spellbound.

“Pretty thing like you, never penetrated before? Well. At least before me…”

As punctuation to end his sentence, he runs his tongue across the dual fang marks over your jugular. You whimper, outright whimper at it. 

“Do you want me to slide a finger inside you? Two? My cock, all hard and ready for you?”

You nod, rocking down harder. Anything. All of it. Please. 

“It’d be easy, wouldn’t it? I know how wet you must be, practically dripping through your pretty underwear. No resistance at all, you’d take me so well.”

“Astarion, please, don’t tease me…!”

He leans back and admires you, taking in the sight. 

“Why rush? We have all night.”

You groan in equal parts frustration and excitement. 

Taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate

[allfryam]

feeder for president 2: mike’s story

This isn’t a direct sequel to feeder for president, but it takes place in the same universe, about a year after the law was implemented. We follow our protagonist Mike as he has to bid farewell to his abs because he turns 18 soon.

Mike awoke groggily and smacked his ringing alarm clock that sat on his nightstand. He slowly pulled off the covers and sat up. Still in his underwear, he walked sleepily to the kitchen to get some breakfast. A glass of orange juice and 3 scrambled eggs ought to do the trick. He yawned and scratched his lower abs. He had been going to the gym consistently for about a year now and you could tell. His rock hard abs were complemented by his thick, muscular arms and lean frame. It wasn’t easy having this body though. Ever since the lard law was put into place, gyms had been banned and healthy food was a thing of the past. Mike was smart enough to keep some old weights and dumbbells hidden in his garage so he could still keep his nice figure. That was all going to change soon though. His birthday was in a couple months and the second he turned 18, he would have to throw this healthy lifestyle out the window.

Mike had a plan though. He was going to try to eat as healthy as possible and continue working out even after he turned 18. He figured he would just have to gain 25 pounds of muscle instead of fat. How hard could it be?

well, it was finally here. Mike awoke like any other day, but his throat was a little sore from the new implant they gave him last night. Instead of his usual small breakfast, Mike ate 6 eggs, sausage, and toast. He had downloaded a calorie tracker app to make sure he was eating enough. For breakfast, he ate about 1700 calories. Nice. He was on track to hit 5000 before the end of the day. He made himself a protein shake with about 500 calories and headed out to his garage. Still shirtless, he lifted weights and did various exercises for about an hour. His chilled frame was dripping with sweat by the time he was finished. It was the middle of July and the only air conditioning in his garage was a dinky box fan that hadn’t been turned off in years.

for lunch, Mike met up with his friend Hayden at a local diner. Hayden used to have a similar frame to Mike, but Hayden turned 18 back in April, and as you may expect, his abs were a thing of the past. “Nice gut, dude.” Mike teased. Hayden didn’t really seem to mind. Most people had come to terms with the new law, and being bigger was the new fashion standard. “I think I’m gonna shoot to gain 35 pounds instead of 25 this year. The extra thousand bucks would be sweet!” Hayden said, breaking the silence. “Those extra fat rolls will be pretty sweet too huh?” Mike said sarcastically. Hayden just rolled his eyes.

when lunch finally arrived, Mike was starving. He ordered the double cheeseburger and fries with a large sweet tea. 1200 calories. A bit less than lunch but he would be up to 3400 for the day after this meal. Hayden ordered a personal pizza, a basket of loaded tater tots, buffalo chicken dip, and a large chocolate milkshake. “Jeez dude. You’re really gonna eat all that?” Mike commented. “If I’m gonna get this extra cash, I need to start eating more. I’m only up 10 pounds since April.” Hayden replied. “This meal should actually already put me over the 5000 calorie minimum for the day. I had a pretty big breakfast.”

by the end of his first day being an adult, Mike had eaten 5300 calories. He could have eaten more but he didn’t want to overeat like Hayden. He was gonna turn himself into a fat slob eating like that. Mike was gonna stay perfectly fit. This stupid law wouldn’t affect him at all.

“Damnit.” Mike whispered to himself, looking in the mirror. It had been about a month since he turned 18, and he was struggling to keep up with his healthy lifestyle. Eating 5000 calories a day was slowly catching up to Mike. He pinched the small belly that was forming on him. If he flexed, his abs were still visible, and you could hardly tell he had gained any weight unless he took his shirt off, but Mike was devastated. He had abs almost his entire life, and just like that, they were gone. Mike didn’t have time to sulk in the bathroom though. He had to finish packing for college so he could move out tomorrow. He and Hayden were going to be roommates and Mike was excited.

the boys first week at school was rough. Well, for Mike. Hayden was having the time of his life. The unlimited food plan meant he could practically live in the dining hall. Hayden had gotten even fatter since Mike had last seen him and Hayden didn’t seem to care. “Look around dude. Everyone has at least a little bit of a belly. You’re like the only skinny one.” Hayden said between mouthfuls of pizza. Mike hated to admit it but Hayden was right. Looking around the dining hall, there was a guy in a Spider-Man shirt that looked like it was two sizes too small, a guy that had pulled his shirt up to rub his bloated gut, a tall guy that had unbuttoned his jeans to give his belly room to grow, and even a guy with no shirt at all. He had his round gut on full display and no one seemed to care. Was it really better to just let yourself go like that? Mike pondered as he ate his burrito.

Mike decided to listen to Hayden and try out this weight gain thing. It was already happening to him slowly, why not speed it up? He spent the whole day eating whatever he wanted, not caring about his body at all. And to his surprise, it felt incredible! Eating stress free was the best thing he’s ever done! Tallying his calories at the end of the day, Mike discovered he ate over 7000 calories! He didn’t care though. If he was gonna be forced to gain weight, why not have fun while doing it?

over the next few weeks, Mike and Hayden continued to grow. They would eat constantly. One day they decided to camp out in the dining hall and eat all day. They got there bright and early at 6 AM when they opened and ordered a huge breakfast. Waffles, pancakes, French toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and more. They scarfed it down and rubbed their bellies while talking to each other. “Looks like Mr. Perfect is starting to fall apart.” Hayden teased, poking the sliver of belly poking out from Mike’s shirt. Mike blushed and pulled his shirt back down. “Shut up.” Mike huffed. They continued to chitchat for a few more hours until they were both hungry enough for lunch. Burgers, fries, pizza, tacos, chips, cookies, chicken, and various other meals were brought back to the table and munched on as the boys continued to talk. Two 18 year olds stuffing their faces with fattening food would be considered odd or inappropriate a few years back, but with the new law, it was completely normal. Everyone in the dining hall was trying to eat loads of food. Everyone’s clothes were a bit to tight. Everyone’s belly was a bit bloated. It was great. People weren’t judged for their bodies anymore.

around 6 or seven, the boys decided they had finally recovered from their massive lunch, they decided to grab dinner. They went all out this time, getting crabs, fish, pasta, rice, subs, shrimp, quesadillas, and more. Mike’s belly was barely fitting under his shirt, and his pants were super tight. Hayden had completely taken his shirt off, opting to let his expanding belly breathe. By the end of dinner the boys were stuffed beyond belief. They leaned back in their chairs, rubbing their bloated bellies, trying to stifle their massive burps.

“Dude! It’s already 8:45!” Hayden said about an hour later. “Yeah. So what?” Mike asked. “The dining hall closes at nine! We need to get dessert before they close!” The bloated boys rushed back to the food area to find some desserts. To their surprise, most of the staff gave them extra so they wouldn’t have to throw it out at the end of the night. They arrived back at their table with an entire cheesecake, 3 slices of chocolate cake, a plate full of various cookies, lots of pastries, and a huge sundae they had created with the rest of the I e cream and toppings. They started with that so they could eat it before it melted. It was vanilla ice cream with whipped cream, cookie dough, hot fudge, Oreos, caramel, and a cherry on top. They tore through it quickly and moved on to the mountain of other dessert. By the time they were finished, the boys were exhausted. Hayden had eaten so much, his bloated belly was touching the table. They headed back to their dorm and passed out with their bloated bellies grumbling in pain.

let me know if you guys would like a part two to this story. I really enjoyed writing about these two, and they quickly became one of my favorite characters. I know posts have been slow lately but I’ve been focusing on myself and I have officially started gaining! I started about a month ago and I’m up 5 pounds. It’s been slow but I’m having a really great time. If anyone has any tips please leave them in the comments.

[arpmemething2]

Batman the Animated Series sentence starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"All right, scum bucket, it's you, me, and thirty stories. You're gonna tell me exactly what I want to know."

"That's one way to remove a splinter."

"I have this natural immunity against poisons, toxins, the pain and suffering of others. Go figure."

"I failed you. I wish there were another way for me to say it. I cannot. I can only beg your forgiveness, and pray you hear me somehow, someplace... someplace where a warm hand waits for mine."

"Last time we met, you tried to throw me off a building."

"If you think I've been bad news before..."

"Old and infirm as you are, I'd trade a thousand of my frozen years for your worst day."

"What kind of a saboteur uses a six-thousand dollar Metronex to set a time bomb?"

"I never counted on being happy."

"A strong mind can fuel a frail body."

"I need a new car."

"There's no way you could have escaped from that explosion! How did you get out?"

"I'm gettin' too old for this."

"I suppose what they say is true: society is to blame. High society."

"Succumb to the fear!"

"Gee, it's amazing the things you find in people's glove compartments."

"Children and guns do not mix. Ever."

"I'm having a BAD DAY! I'm sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up!"

"They're not stupid, and it's your party."

"Aren't they just the cutest family you've ever seen?"

"It's midnight darling, time to unmask."

"It's gonna be one of those nights."

"When you look too long into the abyss, the abyss looks back through you."

"If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?"

"You've got to admit there's something between us."

"There's always time to heal."

"I didn't realize you'd taken up listening to rock and roll."

"Choosing a weekend date?"

"I don't believe in fate."

"An entire city screaming in fear. I wonder if we'll be able to hear it."

"Some thought I'd gone mad. Others thought I always had been. And so they put me where they thought I belonged."

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no tales."

"This city would fall apart without you!"

"I love that trick but I can never make it work."

"Taking up video games, are we?"

"I hate it when he does that."

"You are strong... but not strong enough!"

"They don't make straight jackets like they used to. I should know."

"He's not samurai. He's NINJA. They're spies and assassins. Their only code is to get the job done."

"A pixel is worth a thousand words."

"I am vengeance! I am the night!!"

"And who says opera has to be boring?"

"He always knew how to make an exit."

"Hey! Do I hit your kids? Oh, actually I do..."

"Now boys, didn't your mommies teach you that's not the way to get a lady's attention?"

"Not the robot theory again."

"Freeze, maggots! You're all under arrest!"

"You said you'd never let me go home!"

"What was she before she went bonkers?"

"This used to be a beautiful street. Good people lived here once."

"'Tis better to have loved and lost, and made a small profit, than never to have loved at all!"

"Chance is everything. Whether you're born or not, whether you live or die, whether you're good or bad. It's all arbitrary."

"But you've forgotten the first rule of comedy: if you have to explain the joke... THEN IT ISN'T FUNNY!"

"I told you not to speak!"

"Coming through! Hot stuff!"

"The snow is beautiful, don't you think? Clean, uncompromising..."

"When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping."

"What a pleasant surprise. Though I should warn you - breaking and entering is against the law."

"This could cause a stampede to pork."

"You really know how to put the fun in funeral."

"You ought to put your toys away."

"Would not, could not... would not, could not... oh, could not join the dance."

"Home. I never thought that could sound so good."

"Then I'll see you in your nightmares!"

"As the Bard said, "the fault lies not in our stars, but in ourselves.""

"You know what I'd have given for a death scene like this. Too bad I won't get to read the notices."

"He's a little protective of all this. I think he likes bats better than people."

"All your power and money has bought you an empire of misery."

"Don't try this at home kids!"

"I feel ill."

"Well, that was fun! Now, who's for Chinese?"

"You're about to fall out of orbit."

"Why can't he ever stay dead?"

"They can bury me in the ground, as deep as they like. But I'll grow back. We always grow back. Don't we, baby?"

"All men have something to hide. The brighter the picture, the darker the negative."

"You thought I was just another bubble-headed blond bimbo! Well, the joke's on you, 'cause I'm not even a real blonde."

"When the wage slaves start acting like they own the place, it's time to pull the plug."

"I've been known to be foolish, but ain't nobody calls me a liar and goes to bed happy."

"Since you don't like my side-splitters, how 'bout a skull-splitter?"

"This is kidnapping, mister! Last time I checked, it was highly illegal!"

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Bruce survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Four: Fight and Flight

Gabi followed Bruce out onto the trail behind the house. “How are you doing, Bruce? You’ve been awful quiet this whole walk,” Gabi whispered. 

Bruce picked up a big branch and used it as a walking stick. “I’m just thinking,” Bruce whispered, “Be careful. You might have to hold my hand through here. There’s a cave. It’s supposed to be closed off, but—.” Bruce turned around and reached for her hand. Gabi smiled and held Bruce’s hand. “I don’t want you to fall in.”

“Thank you, Bruce. I wasn’t asking you about—. I was asking in general,” Gabi explained. 

“Not so good, I guess. I always feel like something bad is going to happen, but I’m tired of being scared about it,” Bruce confessed, “Everything scares me now…”

“Like everything reminds you of that night?” Gabi questioned as they walked around a log and over a large rock. 

“Yeah… Aunt Gabi, is it ever gonna stop being this way?” Bruce whispered. Gabi frowned as Bruce tapped a board with his walking stick. “We’re gonna go around your way.” 

“Okay… And Bruce, have you ever thought about talking to a doctor—.”

“I don’t want to talk to a doctor. I want to be prepared the next time something bad happens,” Bruce sighed. 

Gabi grew silent as she pondered Bruce’s reply, and she quietly discussed different ways to approach the issue. “Do you mind if I talk to your parents about this when we get back? I think I have an idea, but I want to see how they’d feel about it first before I tell you,” Gabi explained. Bruce nodded. Let’s go back. Okay?” 

“Alright, Aunt Gabi,” Bruce replied, still holding onto her hand as he turned around.

**

Martha listened to Gabi explain her thoughts while Thomas wrote something down in his journal. They occasionally shifted their glance to Jacob and Alfred taking turns playing tennis with Bruce. “I don’t know. Couldn’t that make things worse? Introduce him to new worst-case scenarios?” Martha asked. 

“Well, it might… But he’d be prepared for it. I know that doesn’t remove the fear, and I don’t think that part of him can be easily fixed, but I know a first aid class is a good start to giving him some of his power back,” Gabi replied, “I didn’t say any of this to Bruce. I wanted to see how you two felt about it first.” 

“Thomas?” Martha asked. “Are you paying attention?” 

Thomas looked up and nodded. “Gabi’s right. And I think it’d be a good opportunity to organize something for the community, too. Maybe something good can come out of all of this. I was writing down a list of calls we need to make if I want to make this work,” Thomas replied. Martha reached for Thomas, and he scooped her hand up and leaned forward to kiss her knuckles. “Unless you don’t want him to…”

“I—. I’m scared, too. I don’t—. Can we talk to Bruce about it first? It’ll give me some time to think,” Martha replied, “And Gabi, I appreciate all your help. I never want you to think that I don’t. I’m glad my brother married you. It’s the best gift he’s ever given me… A sister… And pretty soon, a niece or nephew.” 

“Oh, yeah! Congratulations, Gabi!” Thomas exclaimed. “I couldn’t be more excited for you. Really, I couldn’t. You’ll love being a mother. I’m sure of it.” 

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to the final trimester, so I don’t have to worry all the time. It’s so early on, but I figured you both ought to know,” Gabi smiled. Thomas set his journal aside. 

“Oh, the worrying never ends,” Martha laughed, “But it’s so worth it. It really is… And you’re so strong. Boy or girl, they’re going to be a force of nature.” 

Bruce walked over and quietly stood off to the side, waiting for an invitation to come closer. “Bruce, do you want to sit with me for a little while?” Martha asked. Bruce nodded and sat beside her, while she popped the top off of a soda and handed it to him. “Gabi had an idea. She said that you might benefit from taking a first aid class to help you feel more in control in an emergency situation, and I—.”

“Could I?” Bruce interrupted without meaning to. 

Martha looked at Thomas, and he shrugged. “Sure, lovey. Of course, but I think I’d feel better if I went with you,” Martha suggested. Bruce set his soda aside and embraced her. “That’s okay with you?” 

“Uh-huh! We can do it together!” Bruce exclaimed. Martha smiled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she swallowed hard to suppress them. “Thank you, Aunt Gabi!” 

** 

After Gabi and Jacob left, Bruce returned to school. Even before the shooting, Bruce had a difficult time connecting with other children his age. Most of them ridiculed him for being awkward, but he didn’t mind it until the children started using the shooting in the alley as ammunition to torment him. He’d been back for three days before a group of children chased him on the playground with confetti cannons, shouting Crime Alley over and over until they cornered him. They kept laughing and popping off confetti cannons until Bruce snapped and threw a punch. And he kept punching until the yard duties pulled him away from the group. 

He screamed and turned his face into the male security guard’s shoulder as he sobbed hysterically. He didn’t stop until Martha arrived with Alfred. Alfred cleaned and dressed Bruce’s knuckles before affectionately brushing a few tears from Bruce’s cheek with his thumb. “Master Bruce, I think there’s something to be learned from this,” Alfred whispered. Bruce braced up, waiting for Alfred to chastise them. “You weren’t afraid. Were you, Master Bruce?” Alfred winked, provoking a smile from Bruce. Alfred replied with a gentle brush of his knuckles against Bruce’s chin. 

Martha exited the office with a satisfied grin on her face as she reached for Bruce. He ran into her arms, and she held him on her hip. “Let’s go pick your father up,” Martha whispered. 

“Am I in trouble?” Bruce asked. 

“Given the circumstances… No. We’ll talk more after we get home,” Martha replied as she kissed his cheek. “Are we ready to go?” Bruce nodded as she set him down. He held her hand as they left the office, and Alfred drove them to the doctor’s office to pick up Thomas. He was outside talking to a man on forearm crutches. They were smiling and laughing. Thomas looked out toward the street and pointed at Martha and Bruce before waving. Martha smiled, but it was the kind of smile she'd give to someone to take the bite off of bad news. Thomas’ smile faded as he realized the time of day, and he nodded at her. 

Thomas looked at his friend, and they parted ways before Bruce and Martha crossed the street to get to him. Thomas hugged Bruce. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you at school?” Thomas questioned. 

“Can we talk about it at home, honey?” Martha asked. 

“Alright. Well, Bruce, are you okay at least?” Thomas questioned as he looked Bruce over. “Looks like you’re all there. Oh, but you’re a little scraped up in the knuckle department. Alfred’s bandaging work, I see. Did ya win, Champ?”

[sabertoothwalrus]

I havent watched Fionna And Cake yet (scared) but Simons repeatedly appeared in my dreamscape as a subject of my affections..so..would the fandom hit me with rocks if i were to make Simon a dogperson lover? Kinda like Finnico but old and gross

this ask kind of hit me over the head cause I’ve been thinking it’d be nice if Simon had an ESA dog animal? dogs in Ooo are all kinda people. so it took me a second to process you meant dogperson in the catboy sense hfhshdjsjdhakskdkajd

Tbh I don’t think anyone will care. I think more people are averse to self-insert ocs and Nico is not a self-insert, so maybe that’s what made him palatable. Like. I don’t know man I could tell you how I think Nico got popular among tumblr users, but also you shouldn’t make ocs with that goal, and you shouldn’t care if you think your art is palatable or not. but also it’s a confidence thing. if you present it like you ought to be “hit with rocks” then people will, predictably, hit you with rocks. you can do whatever you want forever you don’t need some random tumblr user’s permission

[thesiltverses]

I don’t know who types up the ask answers on this blog but to whoever’s reading this: how do you all feel about being alive and sentient? What keeps you going, what purpose propels you through this chaotic void? What do you think (or hope) waits for you after your inevitable end? What do you think constitutes a life well lived?

I'm going to answer this in the most wayward and stupidly overlong manner possible, because the previous ask had me thinking about puppets, and I was already mid-way through writing up a book recommendation that's semi-relevant to your questions.

Everyone (but especially people who've enjoyed The Silt Verses and all the folks on Tumblr who loved Piranesi by Susanna Clarke) ought to seek out Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban.

Riddley Walker is a wild and woolly story set in post-apocalyptic Kent, where human society has (d)evolved into a Bronze Age collective of hunter-gatherer settlements. Dogs, apparently blaming us for our crimes against the world, have become our predators, hunting us through the trees. Labourers kill themselves unearthing ancient machinery that they cannot possibly understand.

A travelling crowd of thugs led by a Pry Mincer collect taxes and attempt to impose themselves upon those around them with a puppet-show - the closest possible approximation of a TV show - that tells a mangled story of the world's destruction, featuring a Prometheus-esque hero called Eusa who is tempted by the Clevver One into creating the atomic bomb.

Riddley himself, a twelve-year-old folk hero in-the-making surrounded by strange portents, ends up sowing the seeds of rebellion and change by becoming a conduit for the anti-tutelary anarchic madness (one apparently buried in our collective unconscious) of Punch 'n' Judy.

It's a book in love with twisted reinterpretation, the subjectivity of interpretation, buried or forbidden truths coming back to light (the opening quote is a curious allegory about reinvention and cyclical change from the extra-canonical Gospel of Thomas, which is a good joke and mission statement on a couple levels at once) and human beings somehow stumbling into forms of wisdom or insight through clumsy and nonsensical attempts to make sense of a world that is simply beyond them.

It rocks.

The book starts like this:

On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen. He dint make the groun shake nor nothing like that when he come on to my spear he wernt all that big plus he lookit poorly. He done the reqwyrt he ternt and stood and clattert his teef and made his rush and there we wer then. Him on 1 end of the spear kicking his life out and me on the other end watching him dy. I said, 'Your tern now my tern later.'

Riddley's devolved language - a trick which has been nicked/homaged by many other works, most notably Cloud Atlas and Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome - is a masterwork choice which may seem offputting or overwhelming at first, but which has its own brutal poetry and cadence to it, and ultimately which makes us slow down as readers and unpick the wit, puns, double-meanings and playful themes buried in line after line.

(Even those first five sentences get us thinking about cyclical change, ritual and myth in opposition to the dissatisfactions of reality, and 'tern' to paradoxically indicate a rebellious change in direction but also an obedient acceptance of inevitable death.)

In one of my favourite passages in literature and a statement of thought that means a lot to me, Riddley has been smoking post-coital weed with Lorna, a 'tel-woman', who unexpectedly declares her belief in a kind of irrational, monstrous Logos that lives in us, wears us like clothes, and drives us onwards for its own purpose:

'You know Riddley theres some thing in us it dont have no name.' I said, 'What thing is that?' She said, 'Its some kynd of thing it aint us but yet its in us. Its lookin out thru our eye hoals...it aint you nor it dont even know your name. Its in us lorn and loan and shelterin how it can.' 'Tremmering it is and feart. It puts us on like we put on our cloes. Some times we dont fit. Some times it cant fynd the arm hoals and it tears us a part. I dont think I took all that much noatis of it when I ben yung. Now Im old I noatise it mor. It dont realy like to put me on no mor. Every morning I can feal how its tiret of me and readying to throw me a way. Iwl tel you some thing Riddley and keap this in memberment. What ever it is we dont come naturel to it.' I said, 'Lorna I dont know what you mean.' She said, 'We aint a naturel part of it. We dint begin when it begun we dint begin where it begun. It ben here befor us nor I dont know what we are to it. May be weare jus only sickness and a feaver to it or boyls on the arse of it I dont know. Now lissen what Im going to tel you Riddley. It thinks us but it dont think like us. It dont think the way we think. Plus like I said befor its afeart.' I said, 'Whats it afeart of?' She said, 'Its afeart of being beartht.'

While Hoban is, I think, deeply humanistic to his bones and even something of a wayward optimist, the notion of human beings as helpless and ignorant vessels, individual carriers - puppets, if you like - for an unknowable and awful inhuman power-in-potentia and life-drive that lacks a true shape or intent beyond its own continued survival (even when that means destroying us or visiting us with agonising atrophy in the process) conjures up the pessimism of Thomas Ligotti, another big influence on our work and a dude who was really into his marionettes-as-metaphor.

Let's go to him now for his opinion on the thing that lives beneath our skin. Thomas?

Through the prophylactic of self-deception, we keep hidden what we do not want to let into our heads, as if we will betray to ourselves a secret too terrible to know… …(that the universe is) a play with no plot and no players that were anything more than portions of a master drive of purposeless self-mutilation. Everything tears away at everything else forever. Nothing knows of its embroilment in a festival of massacres… Nothing can know what is going on.

Curiously, both Ligotti and Riddley Walker have appeared in the music of dark folk band Current 93, whose track In The Heart Of The Wood And What I Found There directly homages the novel and ends with the repeated words,

"All shall be well," she said But not for me

These words, in turn, hearken back to Kafka's* famous reported conversation with Max Brod:

'We are,' he said, 'nihilistic thoughts, suicidal thoughts that rise in God's head.' This reminded me of the worldview of the gnostic: God as an evil demiurge, the world as his original sin. 'Oh no', he said, 'our world is only a bad, fretful whim of God, a bad day.' 'So was there - outside of this world that we know - hope?' He smiled: 'Oh, hope - there is plenty. Infinite hope, just not for us."

So, we walk on.

We carry this thing that's riding on our backs, endlessly bonded to it, feeling its weight more and more with every passing day, unable to turn to look at it. Buried truths come briefly to life, and are hidden from us again. Perhaps they weren't truths at all. We couldn't stand to look the truth directly in the eyes in any case.

If there is hope, it's for the thing that looks out from our eyeholes, which thinks us but cannot think like us. We'll never get to where we're going, and the thing will never be born. There's no hope for it. Perhaps we don't want it to win anyway. It's nothing, and the key to everything.

The Jesus from the Gospel of Thomas says:

'When you see your own likeness, you rejoice. But when you see the visions that formed you and existed before you, which do not perish and which do not become visible - how much then will you be able to bear?'

Kafka, writing to his father, begins by expressing the inexpressibility of his own divine terror:

You asked me why I am afraid of you. I did not know how to answer - partly because of my fear, partly because an explanation would require more than I could make coherent in speech…even in writing, the magnitude of the causes exceeds my memory and my understanding.

Kafka concludes that while he cannot ever truly explain himself, and that the accusations in his letter are neat subjectivities that fail to account for the messiness of reality, perhaps 'something that in my opinion so closely resembles the truth…might comfort us both a little and make it easier for us to live and die.'**

It doesn't bring comfort to Kafka, whose diarised remarks both before and after the 1919 letter make it clear that he views his relationship with the things (people) that birthed him as an endless entrapment that prevents him from attaining any kind of self-actualisation or even comfort, since he cannot escape their influence or remember a time before them:

I was defeated by Father as a small boy and have been prevented since by pride from leaving the battleground, despite enduring defeat over and over again.

It's as if I wasn't fully born yet...as if I was dissolubly bound to these repulsive things (my parents).*** The bond is still attached to my feet, preventing them from walking, from escaping the original formless mush. That's how it is sometimes.

Samuel Beckett returns again and again (aptly) to this pursuit of a state of true humanity and final understanding that is at once fled and unrecoverable, yet to be born, never to be born, never-existed, endlessly to be pursued, pointless to pursue. From the astonishing end sequence of The Unnameable:

alone alone, the others are gone, they have been stilled, their voices stilled, their listening stilled, one by one, at each new-com- ing, another will come, I won’t be the last. I’ll be with the others. I’ll be as gone, in the silence, it won’t be I, it’s not I, I’m not there yet. I’ll go there now. I’ll try and go there now, no use trying, I wait for my turn, my turn to go there, my turn to talk there, my turn to listen there, my turn to wait there for my turn to go, to be as gone, it’s unending, it will be unending, gone where,where do you go from there, you must go somewhere else, wait somewhere else, for your turn to go again

I’m not the first, I won’t be the first, it will best me in the end, it has bested better than me, it will tell me what to do, in order to rise, move, act like a body endowed with despair, that’s how I reason, that’s how I hear myself reasoning, all lies, it’s not me they’re calling, not me they’re talking about, it’s not yet my turn, it’s someone else’s turn, that’s why I can’t stir, that’s why I don’t feel a body on me, I’m not suffering enough yet, it’s not yet my turn, not suffering enough to be able to stir, to have a body, complete with head, to be able to understand, to have eyes to light the way

From Thomas' Jesus:

When you make the two one, and you make the inside as the outside and the outside as the inside and the above as the below, and if male and female become a single unity which lacks 'masculine' and 'feminine' action, when you grow eyes where eyes should be and hands where hands should be and feet where feet should stand and the true image in its proper place, then shall you enter heaven.

Tom's Jesus makes a particularly Gnostic habit of both insisting that the hidden will be revealed and demonstrating the impossibility of attaining a state where the hidden ever can be revealed. Contrary to C.S. Lewis, we will never have faces with which to gaze upon the lost divine and the mysteries that shaped us, and crucially, as Christ puts it, we would not be able to bear the sight of ourselves if we did.

We will never become the thing that's riding on our backs.

Jesus again:

The disciples ask Jesus, 'Tell us how our end shall be.' Jesus says, 'Have you found the beginning yet, you who ask after the end? For at the place where the beginning is, there shall be the end.'

The Unnameable:

I’ll recognise it, in the end I’ll recognise it, the story of the silence that he never left, that I should never have left, that I may never find again, that I may find again, then it will be he, it will be I, it will be the place, the silence, the end, the beginning, the beginning again, how can I say it, that’s all words, they’re all I have, and not many of them, the words fail, the voice fails, so be it

The final passage of The Unnameable, which often is hilariously shorn and misinterpreted as an inspirational quote about how if you don't succeed, try again:

all words, there’s nothing else, you must go on, that’s all I know, they’re going to stop, I know that well, I can feel it, they’re going to abandon me, it will be the silence, for a moment, a good few moments, or it will be mine, the lasting one, that didn’t last, that still lasts, it will be I, you must go on, I can't go on, you must go on. I’ll go on, you must say words, as long as there are any, until they find me, until they say me, strange pain, strange sin, you must go on, perhaps it’s done already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don’t know. I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on. I’ll go on. †

We bear this thing that's riding on our backs. We'll never get to where we're going, and the thing will never be born. If it was born, it'd be too terrible for us to bear. There's nothing riding on our backs.

It will never speak us into being.

We keep on calling out into the silence, we keep trying to explain or understand the thing that's riding on our backs, searching for a way to birth it before we die. Our words about the thing are crucial, and they're meaningless, and they're all we have, and they're nothing at all. We cannot name it and we cannot express it, but we cannot stop trying, and we will keep turning back to our words about the thing, obsessing over them, tearing them to pieces, putting them back together.

I'm fumbling at something I can't think or say, but fumbling is all we're capable of. There could be beauty and meaning and comfort in the fumbling, but it's also vain, and foolish, and pointless, and we're lying to ourselves about the beauty and the meaning and the comfort, and we're indulging ourselves pointlessly by going on and on about the pointlessness of it. Nothing can know what's going on. We will never get close enough to understand without being destroyed.

Thomas' Jesus again, warning those who seek to reveal what's hidden:

He who is near me is near the fire.

Riddley Walker, reflecting on the Punch puppet's inexplicable desire to cook and eat his own child:

Whyis Punch crookit? Why wil he al ways kill the baby if he can? Parbly I wont ever know its jus on me to think on it.

If you got to the end of this, congratulations: but the above is honestly the most appropriate patchwork of what I believe, what propels me, what I feel.

As for what comes after life, I think it's fairly straightforwardly a nothingness we are tragically incapable of fully knowing or accepting - it's Beckett's unimaginable and unattainable silence, a silence that his characters' voices keep on shattering even as they cry out for it.

-Jon‡

*I can't remember if Kafka makes prominent reference to Czech puppets in his work, which is interesting in its own right given the thematic relevance (the protagonist in The Hunger Artist is perhaps a kind of self-directing puppet show?).

However, Gustav Meyrink - who some unsourced Google quotes suggest was pals with Czech puppeteer Richard Teschner - did write a strange little story, The Man On The Bottle, about an audience watching a 'marionette show' who are too wrapped up in performances and masks to interpret the reality that they're actually watching a human being suffocate to death.

**Thomas Ligotti: "Something had happened. They did not know what it was, but they did know it as that which should not be.

Something would have to be done if they were to live with that which should not be.

This would not (be enough); it would only be the best they could do."

***Beckett's Malone Dies actually kicks off with a related sentiment:" I am in my mother’s room. It’s I who live there now. I don’t know how I got there...In any case I have her room. I sleep in her bed. I piss and shit in her pot. I have taken her place. I must resemble her more and more."

† I don't necessarily align myself in humour with Ligotti on a lot of this stuff but I imagine he would recognise both Beckett's writing and Kafka's frustrations re explaining the causes of his hatred for his father as sublimation: finding artistic and philosophical ways of sketching the inexpressible horror and uncertainty of our existence in order to reckon with it at a remove without destroying ourselves. A higher form of self-deception, but self-deception nevertheless.

‡Muna's more of an anarcho-nihilist, I think.

[notmorbid]

twin peaks: season 1.

dialogue prompts from season one of twin peaks.

is this going to happen every damn time?

now means now.

i thought the only time you cared about was making time.

i'll see you in my dreams.

don't do anything i wouldn't do.

come on, cowboy, light your fire.

i thought i was your little pick-me-up.

quit worrying and start scurrying.

nice day for a picnic.

don't walk away from me like that.

you're not telling anybody anything.

buy you a coffee?

i've never seen so many trees in my life.

have any trouble finding the place?

the whole town's really badly shaken up.

what kind of fantastic trees have you got growing around here?

i told you i had a feeling we'd see ___ again.

you gonna let me in on whatever the hell is going on here?

don't tell me where i ought to be.

muffle it, junior.

i'm not your friend.

i sure know how to pick 'em, huh?

i don't need any damn sympathetic anything.

is there some law against having a picnic?

who are you protecting?

what kind of cigarettes do you smoke?

you're not drinking and driving, are you?

the best-laid plans of mice and men...

don't do it for me. do it for yourself.

there's liable to be a little trouble this evening.

you want me to follow at a discreet distance?

i changed my mind. i'm not sorry.

do your palms ever itch?

who would do a thing like that?

guess why i'm so happy today.

you woke us crying in your sleep last night.

if we tell the truth, we don't have to get our stories straight.

we got places to go and people to see.

i think now i understand how you feel about ____.

don't drink that coffee! you'd never guess: there was a fish in the percolator.

don't 'sweetheart' me, you old dog.

i respect your rebellious nature.

the quieter we become, the more we hear.

you think you got problems?

let's get the hell out of here.

i was up all night working on that invention.

you cannot come by here like this.

it's not the first time and it won't be the last, but i'm in that doghouse again.

god, i love this music.

i've seen some slipshod, backwater burgs, but this place takes the cake.

you don't know what you've done for me.

i told them you were on your world tour and they should contact your press agent.

get your boots off my bed and go to your room.

what is going on in this house?

i mean it like it is. as it sounds.

when i saw the face of god, i was changed.

let's rock.

where we're from, the birds sing a pretty song, and there's music in the air.

thank you for talking to me.

let me tell you about the dream i had last night.

do you know where dreams come from?

i've got compassion running out of my nose, pal.

stupidity is not a necessarily inherent trait.

i do not suffer fools gladly, and fools with badges, never.

the old rustic sucker punch, huh?

in ceremony begins understanding.

don't be afraid. we will all be there together.

sounds like you've been snacking on some of the local mushrooms.

what are you looking at? what are you waiting for?

you damn hypocrites make me sick.

save your prayers. ___ would have laughed at them, anyway.

this must be where pies go when they die.

there's something evil out there. something very, very strange in these old woods.

something horrible is going to happen.

they want to hurt me. i know it.

be a man about it. ask me to my face.

i'm a terrible person. i pretend that i'm not, but i am.

people think of me as their friend. the truth is, i really don't care.

nothing is going to happen to you. not now, not ever. not while i'm around.

do you believe in the soul?

you always said you could never tell us apart.

in real life there is no algebra.

maybe you should run away and join the circus.

i swear on my life, i have changed.

the shortest distance between two points is not necessarily a straight line.

not too many secrets left around here.

i've got one man too many in my life, and i'm married to him.

there isn't all the time in the world. i see that now.

to be perfectly honest, i'm tired and a little on edge.

i can't believe you were ever my age.

i have to put gas in my car like everyone else.

maybe that's our trouble. we never want to hurt anyone. we never just take what we want.

i got your note. are you alright?

you little fruit loop.

they move so slowly when they're not afraid.

i've got tea, i've got cookies. no cake.

shut your eyes and you'll burst into flames.

fire is the devil, hiding like a coward in the smoke.

you're not going to hurt me again.

what you need right now, more than anything else, is a friend.

secrets are dangerous things.

i don't appreciate your attitude.

i'm a little better at faces than names, i guess.

you think people really change?

every day, once a day, give yourself a present.

mother always said i was born lucky.

no names. you don't offer and you don't ask.

there used to be something caring between us.

i never should have taken you up to that house on the hill.

if somewhere under all that scar tissue there's the faintest flicker of what we used to feel for each other, i'm asking you to feel that now.

given what i've become and the way i've treated people, there's no one else i can turn to.

i can't blame you for dreaming.

i always talk too big. that's my biggest fault.

what kind of dangerous game have you been playing?

[rebouks]

Wyatt’s home was neat, tidy and exposed very little of his true character, just as Brynn had suspected. There were no knickknacks strewn across shelves, no photographs or clutter, and certainly nothing that held much sentimental value; unless he kept such things hidden, though she figured it more likely he simply didn’t have any.

He’d caught her eye now and then but said nothing, unphased by her nosiness as she roamed freely; clearly he had nothing to hide-.. not from her, anyway. Intent on picking her apart from the inside out – much the same as she to him – he studied her relentlessly, bewildered by the fact she’d invaded his sanctuary so audaciously.

Brynn had never met anyone quite like Wyatt, a man who knew exactly what he was, yet bared absolutely no apologies for it. He was cool, collected and intelligent, he couldn’t be cajoled with false compliments or pretend beguile, he didn’t fall over himself to please anyone, didn’t tell her what to do or what to say or how to act, didn’t try to own her or parade her; a stolen prize to be pinned to one’s chest as a badge of honour, wealth or depravity-.. and for the first time in a long, long while, Brynn felt free. Free of her mask, her falsities and her scars.

Brynn: You have a lot of books. Wyatt: That’s not a lot. Brynn: Is way more than I have. Wyatt: You don’t like reading? Brynn: I do-.. is just hard work. Wyatt: Practice makes perfect. Brynn: Maybe you could teach me? Wyatt: You’re finding an awful lot of excuses to spend more time with me…

The atrocities in Wyatt’s past should’ve deterred her, but over time, she’d found herself drawn to him because of them. A shared existence in the darker realities of life, however opposite they may have been.

He could’ve continued down that path after the death of his father, could’ve picked up where Ashton left off, but he hadn’t. He’d fled to where he felt free instead; leading a simple, lonely life, searching for a soul long since forgotten. He was grey, and so was she.

Despite his outward arrogance, Brynn could feel the familiar ache of desolation within Wyatt. He wore his wretched personality like a cloak, peering out at the world as a gargoyle would, poised to deter anyone that came too close with a well-practiced, stony demeanour; but even the hardest of stones could break with the right tools and a little persistence…

Brynn: You think I came all this way for snow and rocks? Wyatt: I’m starting to doubt it. Brynn: Only now? I thought you more intelligent than that.

Brynn smirked, her piercing, lustful gaze rendering him speechless for the second time that night. She wasn’t wrong, he knew by now where this was headed, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around the why. She ought to know better given everything she’d been through, everything she knew about him-.. everything he’d put her through; directly or indirectly, it didn’t matter.

Wyatt swallowed forcefully as he felt a hot flash of guilt wash over him, trying to rid himself of the unpleasant lump stuck in his throat. He hadn’t realised it at the time, but he’d felt something toward her ever since she’d given him that stupid phone in Del Sol. She’d trusted him to do the right thing, even though she had every right to assume he wouldn’t.

Putting it down to the fact that no one had ever believed in him before, he’d brushed those thoughts aside; he was probably just desperate for some sort of approval, fairly natural for someone who was emotionally neglected as a child. It didn’t mean anything.

Brynn: You don’t understand, do you? [Wyatt squinted; he didn’t want to admit that] Brynn: Tell me why. [Wyatt hesitated, but ultimately acquiesced] Wyatt: You said you’d never forgive me… Brynn: I not use the word never, did I? Wyatt: You should’ve. Brynn: I told you; I see you.

Wyatt: What do you s-… [Wyatt promptly forgot his question as Brynn clambered on top of him, his hands reaching for her instinctively, hungrily…] Brynn: Use your heart tonight, not your head.

Previous // Next

[blackjackkent]

OK, time for a very small nice thing for Rakha to counteract all the Horrors.

"*sniff*"

Narrator: The dog seems wary, sniffing you intently.

Offer your hand to the dog to sniff, being careful not to spook it.

Narrator: The dog sniffs your hand and seems more at ease.

"*Bark!*"

-----

Wyll watches Rakha with the dog, a slight smile touching his lips. And Jaheira watches Wyll, and frowns sympathetically.

"I can only imagine it is a trying time to love her," she says gently, in a voice low enough to reach only his ears.

Wyll stiffens. His eyes don't move from Rakha, but Jaheira can see the way he turns his body. It's an unconscious motion, protective, ready to step between Jaheira and Rakha if the need should arise. "Are you suggesting I ought not to?" he says carefully.

Jaheira smiles a little to herself. She could have expected this response. He's a good man, the Ravengard boy - the sort of stout support Rakha will need in the times to come. Caden had Aerie, and it made all the difference in some of his lowest moments.

And Wyll is not so far out of the way from Aerie, really. Both of them torn from their homes by terrible circumstance, mutilated by the cruelty of uncaring masters, and yet full of warmth in spite of it all. Both of them tossed into the way of a Bhaalspawn in whom they found light and love and hope in spite of the darkness. It's a comforting parallel.

And yet... Jaheira has to admit Wyll's path is strewn with far more rocks than Aerie's was. Caden carried Bhaal's taint, but he never slipped so far into the dark as Rakha has. There is an animal ferocity in Rakha that Caden never had, a beast that strains far more strongly at its leash.

"Hardly," she says. "Indeed, I am very glad you do. I only mean that it is not easy to love one so marked by fate."

Wyll hesitates. She can see his loyalty warring with his honesty.

She smiles faintly. "You need not confide in me unless you wish," she says. "Certainly this is only an old woman's meddling."

"No, it's--" He frowns, looks away for a moment - checks to see that Lae'zel and Minthara are not listening, that Rakha is still distracted by the pup. "I hate it," he admits, so low that even Jaheira can barely hear him. "I hate what it does to her. I look at her now... that little smile she gets on her face, that moment of gentleness. All the questions, the moments when she wants to learn, to do the right thing, to understand everything. The music. The magic - the beauty she sees in it, the things she tells me about..." He swallows. "That's the woman I love, and I'd do anything for her. But there's something else there that's not her at all, and it frightens me so terribly."

He trails off, looking down at his boots. "It isn't fair."

"No," she agrees quietly. "No, it most certainly is not. And it is a cruel truth, in my experience, that such unfair business lands all too often on the shoulders of those who deserve it least."

He fidgets uneasily with the hilt of the rapier on his hip. "If what she says is true... she did terrible things, back before she lost her memory. Am I simply a fool, to think that isn't her? That I can love her in spite of that, that she's someone different now?"

"Only you can answer that for yourself." Jaheira studies his expression thoughtfully for a moment. "But if you want my opinion - no. It does not make you foolish, but brave." A pause. "I have cared for many, in the past, who knew their share of darkness. And I am no fool. The foolishness would be in believing she has no choice to change."

He relaxes visibly and his eyes brighten at the reassurance. "Yes," he says. A slight pause. "Your friend... Gorion's Ward..."

"Caden," she says. Her lips twitch. "The legends speak of him always with such grandiose titles..."

He laughs softly. "Caden, then. Did he... frighten you, ever?"

She is quiet a long moment before answering. "At times. There were moments when I knew he struggled with things I could not see. And it frightened me to know that in the end it was his journey, and I could do nothing but stand at his side and see him through."

Wyll nods. "I would take the burden from her, if I could," he says.

"I know you would." She claps him gently on the shoulder. "And it is for that reason that I am glad you cannot. Do not tear yourself apart trying to lay an easy path that does not exist. She will need you, whole-minded and strong, for what is to come."

He draws a slow breath, and she can hear a slight tremble in the exhale. Ye gods, boy, you are so terribly young to face such trials, she thinks bitterly. I never knew love that did not have its touch of pain, but you have earned something bearing a less sharp edge.

But I am familiar with the sense, by now, of standing on history's cusp. Had she not had your guidance, I think Rakha would have a great deal more blood on her hands. And I think, perhaps, one day the strength of your heart will be seen to have saved the world.

"Thank you," he says softly.

She nods. "I am here when you need me," she answers. "And you will - of that I am certain. We have, all of us, a very long road ahead."

[georgiapeach30513]

Hi peach ❤️ Mrs pasta checking in

It’s been a long week, huh? If you’re in the USA, like some of us, 😵‍💫 but I’m going to avoid the politics talk.

I hope you are faring well despite everything.

I have no shade to throw today but I do want to remind some people on here in the midst of a lot of toxicity (not politics related). There’s a small group on here that has turned into a hilarious mix of haters/antis/no longer sure what they’re supposed to be but they’re 100% counterproductive. Imagine being that bored with your own life you spend your days torturing yourself following someone you “hate.” But I guess some people like being miserable.

Ramen, try as he might, is not a very good liar and I don’t think he would make a convincing salesman 🤣 but I do think that he filmed a movie in 2022 and it was delayed a year to release, and now that some are feeling extra in their feelings about him, are seeking confirmation through searching the internet for bad reviews on his film so they can project more negativity onto him.

He’s actively worked on three (still working on the third) projects this year. None of these projects have been released and I don’t believe they’ve confirmed any release date for these films either (correct me if I’m wrong).

So if that’s the case, I think it’s wise to wait things out and see how the rest of these projects pan out and whatever he decides to do next. bemoaning and groaning on a movie that was filmed 2 years ago as a yardstick of a person’s current life and career is a bit of an interesting choice. I think most of his fans knew this movie wasn’t going to be an awards darling by any means and especially knowing that the rock and his crew are behind this..how is anyone surprised if it’s a goofy overblown exaggeration of a ride?

Besides, the actors that work on this film are all professionals. They all do this for a living and promoting a silly goofy probably not going to be a hit with critics movie and playing along with the silliness is part of the job.

Marketing. PR. Yes yes it’s all mostly lies and manipulation. A lot of us have tried telling some of you that Hollywood is a business first, and everything else second. If you sit here upset that a celeb would possibly play up or even “lie” about something while promoting a film, then you may want to get out of this fandom and check the rest of the world.

This is not me being mean or invalidating other people’s feelings. I’m just telling you all as someone who works in an industry that’s all about manipulation and selling, myself. I do it because it’s a job. I don’t agree with everything but they pay me. I separate my own personal feelings from my work and then I go home. Life moves on no matter what.

Peach, thank you for being ramen’s shining beacon of support. They really ought to start paying you and anni for the work you both do for this fandom.

😘❤️

Be well

Mrs. Pasta! I was hoping you would drop in this week because what a week we've had! But yes, there's a reason that I avoid politics here, and that's because this is my escape. And like most of us, we're just not in the best place.

Unfortunately it does seem to have a heavy dose of toxicity in our little corner on tumblr. I think there's quite a few groups that are a bit counterproductive instead of just enjoying the plethora of content we've been gifted, but hey ho.

Ramen is one of the worst liars I have seen. And I'm not sure what that means sometimes. This movie was filmed in 2022, and carried on into 2023, and of course, was originally set to released Christmas 2023, but who knows what was going on behind the scenes for it to be delayed until this holiday season. This movie was also never going to be a critical success. Movies like this are meant to be for audience success, but what do I know?

I actually find it quite commendable that he's been able to make himself be so busy this year with work. Compared to what his tone was in the GQ interview fall 2023, this is a stark difference. He's showing that there is work to be had if you want it. He's taking on smaller roles, and he still seems proud of that fact. However, as of yet, there is no release date for any of these projects filmed this year. I suspect Honey, Don't release should be announced soon-ish.

And I think you're right about expectations on Red One. Judging the trailers, I think we're getting exactly what I thought we would be getting. It looks like a fun, goofy, not too serious Christmas movie. And honestly, I love those. Not every movie was meant to be a critical darling, or be awarded. Sometimes you just want to have a good time.

I think if most people would look at Hollywood as a business everyone would be better off. It is just lipstick and rouge, and they show us what they want us to see. Sometimes there's some cracks in the foundation, and we see a bit of the lies and manipulations. And in this case this is a family movie, so to no surprise some people are playing up the family aspect of it all. Interesting, and yet not, all at the same time.

Sometimes you have to pick and choose what you want to see, hear, learn, and you just have to learn it's not that serious at the end of the day. It's entertainment, and when you look at it as such, you have a lot more fun. And honestly, a lot of us have been entertained lately.

Ooh, you got to watch talking about pay on here, it sends the wrong message, and people like to call you the p word. Anne and I, and so many of our mutuals and followers, just want to have fun. Isn't that was a fandom space, such as tumblr is supposed to be about? Not about constant drama and arguing, but enjoying an entertainer? Their work? Getting excited about public appearances? Spreading memes, gifs, and works of fiction?

Mrs. Pasta, as always it's a pleasure. And I look forward to your next drop in. As always, take care!

[allwormdiet]

Interlude 1

Time to meet the parent.

Scion is so fucking weird. Like even being spoiled on what his deal is, what a fucking wild introduction to the world's first superhero. Absolutely buckwild. Naked golden man just floating above the ocean looking depressed. What a way for the world to be changed forever.

Cancer and suicide are both hard things to grapple with, and they're both things that have rocked my family and loved ones. This, I dunno, incidental fucking gesture just feels so. I don't know what to call it, it just feels. Makes me feel. Whatever.

Again, just, that's gotta be so fucking weird for a superhero to just suddenly exist. No way people jumped to superhero first obviously, might as well have been the Second Coming for all anyone would know, but still. I want to know what it is that makes Scion act like a hero when his ultimate desires for Earth are. Pretty unheroic? Maybe there'll be an answer for that, and presumably it's more subtle in the long-term than just immediately going apeshit, but it's still a mystery to me, so I'm left with the speculation.

Feel like I've heard the name Vikare before but fuck me if I can remember the context. Setting that aside, there's something, I dunno, telling? In that the first capes were superheroes, that the villains came after. Even in a world that's as shit as this one, the first instinct people had when they realized they had actual for-real superpowers was to do good. That's honestly a bit less cynical than I was expecting.

It is interesting that the honeymoon period for heroes lasted not even half a decade, that's longer than I'd have expected. And I think this is the first time we hear the word parahuman, which is fun. "Para-" meaning alongside or distinct, they're not superhuman, they're not inherently better, they're just. Different kinds of human. That's a clever pick.

Whatever else can be said about Danny Hebert (and we are getting to whatever else can be said about Danny Hebert, gimme a minute), this is a really really really good way to immediately get us in his head and on his side. When someone isn't where you expect them to be, when it's the middle of the night and they're not in the house like they ought to, that's fucking terrifying. For a parent to realize their child has disappeared, I cannot even imagine.

And yeah, not far behind Danny being terrified for his daughter is this complicated tangle of longing-anger-guilt for his wife. His wife whose death has absolutely nothing to do with the lack of a cellphone I'm sure.

And I'll be the first to admit I was a lot like Taylor back in high school, although I had a friend group and the bullying was a fraction of a fraction of what she's dealing with. My wildest nights were spent in a too-hot garage drinking novelty sodas and playing RPGs with the world's crappiest Dungeon Master. But I'm distracting myself.

"I hope that my daughter's only source of catharsis hasn't gotten her kidnapped or raped or murdered in this godawful city in the middle of the night" is such a horrifying thought to have to grapple with. God.

Speaking of horror.

I know about the thing with the locker, and God what a nightmare. Like, obviously, number one victim here is Taylor, and it is a testament of immense moral character that she didn't kill anybody for that torture, but Danny takes silver in the aftermath. His daughter has been tortured, and nobody will punish wrongdoers, nobody will even say who it was. Taylor won't even say who it was.

Anger and futility juxtaposed again. Danny rages for his daughter but it's fruitless except for a settlement to cover the hospital stay, so all he can do is wait and hope that something changes for the better.

This is actually something I've always wondered about. Taylor goes to such extreme lengths to not tell Danny about her life, and I've never fully understood why. Like the cape stuff I get, or at least mostly get, but Taylor doesn't open up to him about the bullying in anything I've ever seen or heard, and I don't know what's stopping her. It hurts both of them in the end.

And here's Danny's failure, right? He doesn't commit. He's letting Taylor lie to him, he's letting Taylor think she's getting away with lying. That's... kinda useless.

Honestly the fucked up thing is that Taylor's already got that anger in her, Danny worries about hurting her and he's not WRONG to worry about that, but to some extent she's already got that same kind of smoldering emotion as he does.

And the fact that he's tried so goddamn hard to protect her from his anger, the fact that she's caught the edges of it anyway even if it's never been targeted at her, that's just so goddamn sad. The Hebert family makes me sad.

Current Thoughts

The thought I can't get out of my head is that Danny doesn't want to confront Taylor because he doesn't want to chase her away, doesn't want her to feel unsafe with him, but like. One day she's going to leave anyway, drifting apart from him as their lives grow so much more different from each other, and what she's going to remember is that he never tried to keep her by his side, that he gave up on trying to fight for her. And that's worse. That's so much worse.

[exactlycleverpirate]

Rafayel Timeline Redux Repost (All in one post)

All the formatting got removed, but hopefully having it all in one post will be helpful for some people. I might fiddle with this later and see if I can fix the formatting.

Spoilers under the cut.

“The Princess with a god’s heart, the God of the Sea who saved her - the Lemurian who rescued her from a cage time and time again…

They will meet once more.”

?? Island of Songs (Myth) 

(I put this at the beginning because Amund says this is where everything started. It could also possibly take place near the end of Earth’s life or the beginning of Philos’ life.)

Amund: “If that island sparked the beginning of our demise, then everything should end there.”

MC is trapped on an island surrounded by gray skies and gray waves. She is waiting to be rescued by someone from the sea, because otherwise the waves will one day drown her. She is doing the same thing over and over.

“The sky gloomy, and the water a gray desert. Waves crash against the island in the center of the ocean. On the island, I am in a hut, surrounded by silence and solitude. I know that one day, the tides, boundless and cruel, will take me away. It’s…I’m waiting for someone from the sea to rescue me from this prison.”

Hidden in these sandy tides are ruins, its structures of various sizes. MC: “...Where are we?!” Rafayel: “The Island of Songs.” MC: “(It…sounds familiar.) Rafayel, I…I think I’ve been here before…” Something is calling out to me. Not waiting for Rafayel, I hurry and run into the ruins. Golden sands cover what was once an island. Fragmented walls and scattered roof tiles cover the ground. Withered branches reach to the sky. MC: “I feel like I know this place… I’ve walked these streets… I’ve seen these roof tiles… We’re in…” I run my hand along a wall, reaching a broken window. I can almost hear the gray waves lapping at the rocks. The loneliness and silence from my dream materialize, wrapping around me. MC: “This is the place I’ve dreamed about!” Rafayel: “Your Highness remembers.” MC: “In my dream, I was…” I was doing the same thing over and over… And next to me was… (see below)

Here is where the legend of the God of the Sea is born.

Rafayel: “Whence a Sea God’s legend arose.”

There are tablets of Lemurian prophecy and history buried on the island. MC knew they were there. (Did she write them or was she there when they were written?)

I start to dig. My intuition tells me an object of great importance is near. MC: “You said a Sea God’s legend originated from here… There…has to be…” I find a slab, cracked, in the ruins.

Rafayel: “The Tome of the Sea God? What does it contain?” Like golden leaves on the water, the symbols float and form words. Rafayel: “It’s Lemuria’s history and the Sea God’s prophecy.”

In exchange for her sincere devotion, Rafayel gives MC his heart. They make an eternal vow and bond, etched on their very souls.

Rafayel: “Is Your Highness not my master?” MC: “Master?” Rafayel: “Once Lemurians are bound to someone, we can never go against them.” MC: “Are you…referring to the time you were gifted to me? Taming requires plucking a Lemurian scale. I did nothing of the sort.” Rafayel: “Our bond has existed for years. Long before the sea dried up.”

MC: “...The heart belongs to the God of the Sea.”

MC: “Desiring the sincerest worship of mortals, thou must offer an irreplaceable object.” Rafayel: “The Sea God's heart, mine heart. Dost thou want it?”

MC: “You’re the god who gifted me this heart.”

MC: “We made a vow. You are the God of the Sea who has my sincerest devotion.”

It is my bond, my vow with Rafayel engraved deep within my soul.

MC: “Our vow is eternal.”

On the happiest day of his life, Rafayel kisses her and devotes the entire ocean to her. (Did they get engaged or married? Rafayel later calls her his beloved bride.)

“No gray waves, no lonesome islands. A desert of blue-I think if the desert is azure, it ought to look like the sea. In boundless blue, a young man, the God of the Sea, holds a girl’s hand. They walk to the horizon. The God of the Sea gestures for waves to bloom under the girl’s feet. Fish swim. White gulls circle overhead and sing as they land on her shoulder. To the God of the Sea, this is the happiest day of his life. And when he kisses her, he devotes the entire ocean to his beloved.”

Lemurians later believe that the heart was acquired through deception, and that the humans stole it, resulting the the God of the Sea’s death.

Amund: “I believe in Your Quintessence. Her method of acquiring the heart wasn’t forgotten, was it? If that island sparked the beginning of our demise, then everything should end there. The Lemurians cannot be deceived again!”

MC: “The Lemurian tales I’ve read said the God of the Sea died long ago… I’m sorry, you must refer to it as a “slumber.” How can there still be a God of the Sea?” Rafayel: “Does Your Highness know why he perished? His heart was stolen by humans.”

Thousands of Years ago, Lemuria disappears and becomes the stuff of myth and legend.

?? Abyssal Witch (Fragrant Dream) (I choose to interpret this as a memory, but it could also be an allusion to something that could happen in the future or just a dream. Whatever it is, Rafayel reacts to it like it is significant.)

Rafayel and MC were lovers (possibly during the Island of Songs sequence of events?). He would play his flute beneath her window and they frequently explored the sea together.

The last time she saw the sun before becoming the Abyssal Witch, she sat in a boat with her head on her lover Rafayel's shoulder.

She is cursed to be a Sea Witch in the Abyssal rift and loses all memory of being human and of Rafayel. She is accompanied by a red fish and a blue fish.

Rafayel finds her and begins a quest to gather the materials for a potion to turn human. This includes one of his precious scales, a bottle of his eternal blood, and a song in a conch.

Once the potion is complete, he uses the fragrance to turn her human and restore her memories.The potion she made has a bitter scent reminiscent of fermented aquatic plants. As he vanishes into sea foam, he returns her to the shore so she can live and be free.

(When she regains her memories, the voices that play are of current day Rafayel, from his card Your Fragrance. Possibly just because she is remembering this in a dream, rather than those being the actual memories she recovered at the time.)

(Rafayel makes a jibe in Nightly Stroll about waiting 800 years, so is this event and/or the Island of Songs possibly 800 years before the main story, circa 1248? My inclination is to say Island of Songs takes place before Lemuria disappears - and is in fact the impetus for it to disappear - thousands of years ago, but it takes him a long time to find her, potentially putting Fragrant Dream in 1248. But this is all speculation.)

2024 (...probably (Rafayel literally says probably about his age in his interview…)) Rafayel born March 6th (Promotional video, in game profile)

2026-2027 MC born. (This age comes from chapter 5.1. The letter she gets from Grandma says she was 7-8 when they started experimenting on her, and she was adopted by Grandma after the Chronorift Catastrophe in 2034.)

?? Child Rafayel likes escaping to explore the ocean. On one or more of these excursions, he sees a human floating lantern festival and puts out their lanterns. (Ocean At Night)

2034

Rafayel would be 10 at this time. (If his birth year is correct.)

Deepspace Tunnel appears

Chronorift Catastrophe

MC (age 7-8) now has Protocore Syndrome in her heart, is adopted by Granny, and has little memory before this event.

On December 31st, Lemurian ruins are discovered, after a tsunami southeast of Linkon city, when a rift opens up and reveals it.

Child Rafayel is given a Whale Call as a means of protection, in case something happens on one of his escapes from Lemuria. However, he never uses it, because he never escapes again after this, and sometime later he buries it in the Lemurian city. (Whalefall Lament)

Sometime before 2038, MC goes on a field trip to Hat Island (possibly when she meets Rafayel?).

?? Pinkie Promise as children. (MS Chapter 7.11) At some point in MC and Rafayel's childhood, Rafayel visits the surface world but gets trapped on the beach on his return trip (on Ebb Day?) (Perhaps during her field trip to Hat Island?) (A summer day by the seaside involving seashells? (Anecdote 2)) She saves him and they make a pinkie promise. Rafayel says if she doesn't return, he will chase her to the ends of the earth. (Nightly Stroll) (Could be in this life or a previous one.)

Rafayel: “It’s settled, then. If you don’t return, I’ll…I’ll chase you to the ends of the Earth.”

?? Lemurians Slaughtered. Some survivors go into hiding living on land among humans, including his Aunt Talia and K. (Anecdote 3) (See What Happened to Lemuria and Rafayel for a detailed breakdown of this. Could be in this life or a previous one.)

Rafayel's Anecdote 3 immediately precedes Anecdote 2 (See 2044-2047). 

Rafayel is an Opera singer in Verona going by the moniker “Mo”, hunting down and killing people, possibly as revenge for the destruction of Lemuria and slaughter of his people. 

He is being investigated by a private detective named Louis. 

He is not painting at this time. 

Rafayel's only living family on Earth is his Aunt Talia, also Lemurian. His Aunt Talia is also in Verona. Talia thinks Rafayel of the past was like a blazing flame. But ever since the incident in Lemuria, he is like a battered reef - cold and hard outside, but inwardly riddled with cracks, vulnerable, and on the verge of crumbling. She remembers he used to like painting. 

He also recently attended a Seamoon Ceremony for another Lemurian, K, who dies and is returned to the sea (after having his scales and blood taken). Lemurians are hiding amongst humanity, but being hunted, tortured, harvested for their scales and blood and killed. It is suggested that Rafayel is trying to accomplish something to save the Lemurians, saying, “Not every Lemurian survivor can wait.” It appears the longer he takes to accomplish his goal, the more of the Lemurians die in the meanwhile. 

Rafayel leaves Verona and moves to Linkon city. He has a picture of MC in his pocket, likely given to him by Louis, who gave Rafayel a new lead. Rafayel burns papers in a file before he disembarks the ship. He has a business card with relevant information. (Anecdote 3).

Sometime between 2043-2045 MC (17-18) begins attending University of Linkon. (School year usually begins in September.)

2043-2047 Rafayel's Anecdote 2 takes place sometime in this timeframe while MC is at University of Lincoln. 

Rafayel comes onto the scene in Linkon city with the release of his masterpiece Illusion (in the summer). His popularity as an artist skyrockets. He is staying in a hotel at this time and doesn't have his studio yet. 

In late summer, Rafayel receives an email informing him that MC is attending University of Linkon. He takes a position as a special lecturer there. He is then invited to remain as a visiting professor for a year.

He meets with someone at The Nest who provides him with more information about MC. Rafayel learns that people are watching MC, some for years, and are about to set something into motion. The man says Rafayel is getting into the game late, but Rafayel knows he's been in it since the beginning. The man doesn't have more information about who else is after her. The man gives Rafayel a distant photo of MC. Rafayel takes the photo, then burns the file and other pictures, telling the person that if he does anything unnecessary he'll never be able to work with anyone else again. 

Rafayel believes she is being surrounded by dangerous entities, some of whom may possibly be trying to use her to trap him. He describes her as bait. This is part of why he doesn’t approach her at this time. He decides he can afford to take his time and make his moves carefully.

Thinking about her brings him deep pain. He describes his feelings for MC as akin to a spice, painful and addictive and indicates he is prepared to be with her for the rest of his life, but also wants to “settle the score, bit by bit, slowly and steadily”.

He sees a picture of her on campus and learns where her major usually has classes. He recognizes her pictures right away, despite it being many years since he last saw her. He notes that she is older now, but still has the same mirth in her eyes. Rafayel acknowledges that “he has taken the bait she used once before”.

He sees MC again, talking to some of her classmates. He is confused that she doesn’t seem to know anything about Lemuria. (Anecdote 2)

Rafayel hires Thomas to be his agent. (Anecdote 1)

Thomas learns about business management to be a better agent for Rafayel. (Anecdote 1)

2047-2048 MC graduates. (School year usually ends June-July)

2048 Pregame

The month before the main story, Rafayel's art broke the record for the highest selling art at Lizio Auctions. 

At the start of the year, (per Main Story chpt 2.6) Rafayel returns to the country from overseas. He is known for spending six months painting in his studio, then traveling the world for inspiration/materials for the other 6 months.

2048 Main Story begins. MC (age 21-22) begins work as a Deepspace Hunter. MC and Rafayel are reunited, though MC does not remember Rafayel. Rafayel’s home is called Mo Art Studio.

Rafayel acquires a red Flamula from Lemuria the first time he reintroduces himself to MC. She gives it to him to take home. She later names it Reddie.

Philos - 30,000 years after the seas dried up. Rafayel's Myth takes place on Philos, likely sometime between Xavier and MC meeting for the first time (Xavier’s Anecdote 3) and Xavier's myth story. The oceans have been missing for 30,000 years (possibly because Earth was destroyed and Philos was made with a fake core holding separate tectonic plates together). 

“...we had substituted Earth’s extinguished core with a powerful, artificial one. This core holds fragmented landmass together, preventing them from scattering into the starry sea. So aside from more dust, more cloudy days, and cumbersome travel between tectonic plates, our planet isn't much different from the Earth of years past.” (Xavier’s Anecdote 3)

“People like Xavier, they'll experience many centuries. As long as Philos’s core still has energy, their lives shall last forevermore like the planet's.” (Xavier’s Anecdote 3)

MC was born from the depths of the planet. She has a special heart that makes the people of Philos immortal and is guarded in a palace, treated as a princess, and not allowed to leave. (See Xavier’s Myth for the connection between MC’s heart, the people’s immortality, and Philos's core.)

“Many, many years have passed on the humble planet of Philos. And on this land lives a noble princess. Her heart, pure and flawless, is blessed by the gods. It protects Philos forevermore, granting immortality to its denizens.”

“I am not a daughter of the Philos royal family. I am no one’s child. I am a person who awoke from the depths of the planet.”

“In the center of Starfall Forest, which had an unstable Protofield, was the heart of Philos. But it was hollow. Philos was made by mortal hands. It shouldn't have existed, and the core's energy had long been exhausted. The only way to keep the planet from dying was to fill its heart with energy. Philos was a planet where almost everyone lived eternal. Thus, humans were the most abundant resource that yielded much energy. Almost everyone who set foot here became the planet's food. Wanderers were a side effect born from the abnormal phenomenon.” (Xavier’s Myth chapter 8)

Xavier: “They found the perfect sacrifice. She can die and be reborn without end. In their eyes, she was the planet's very life force. For only she has achieved true immortality… The royal family believed if they sent her into the planet's heart when the time is right, their problems would be solved. No one asked how she felt or whether she was willing to sacrifice herself. They also care little about her being left in a hole to die and be reborn again and again.” (Xavier’s Myth chapter 8)

Child MC is gifted a young Rafayel as a Lemurian slave. She sets him free. (Rafayel later tells her he allowed himself to be caught on purpose to meet her.) When she set him free when they were children, he made a vow to return to her one day, giving her one of his scales which she has as a little blue fish in a tank, but she doesn't know it is the scale he gifted her. (Later, when they are adults, MC learns Rafayel was bound to MC when the oceans still existed.)

Rafayel: “I’ll return one day and find you.” He takes my hand. To my surprise, a little blue fish swims between our palms. Rafayel: “Fish are emissaries of the God of the Sea. This is my vow to you.”

Rafayel: “Is Your Highness not my master?” MC: “Master?” Rafayel: “Once Lemurians are bound to someone, we can never go against them.” MC: “Are you…referring to the time you were gifted to me? Taming requires plucking a Lemurian scale. I did nothing of the sort.” Rafayel: “Our bond has existed for years. Long before the sea dried up.”

“Deep within the palace, the little blue fish slowly turns into a silver scale and sinks to the bottom of the glass bowl.”

MC remembers living on the Island of Songs in a hut by herself, surrounded by the ocean. (See the beginning of this timeline.) (Was this in her first life or some subsequent life on Earth?)

Rafayel and MC are reunited as adults on her 99th attempt to escape the palace. They meet several times and grow close.

There are other Lemurians on Philos with Rafayel,  including Amund. They are killing human nobles, with the belief that by doing so, it will help restore the oceans and Lemuria.

Rafayel is referred to as the God of the Sea in the myth (Amund says he has served other Gods of the Sea over the past several centuries. Is this different incarnations of Rafayel, or other people entirely?)

MC: “Why do Lemurians need to kill humans? Revenge?” Rafayel: “Your Highness and I know revenge is meaningless. The seas are but sands for 30,000 years. We only want one thing.” MC: “The Lemurians want to go home?” Rafayel: “...Yes. We must awaken the seas and return to our homeland.”

MC can use a Lemurian Fishtail Beacon to summon Rafayel.

Rafayel and Amund are plotting to recover “the God of the Sea’s (Rafayel’s) heart from MC by cutting it out with a dagger on the Island of Songs. However, the heart must be given willingly. Rafayel is uncertain whether the legends are true about killing MC to restore the oceans and Lemuria. Per the legend, the goal seems to be attaining Absolute Power. 

According to the legend, “Lemurians who seeketh Absolute Power: Combat the treacherous tides. Dive into The Deep for pearls. Find a true love. When blessed with a true love’s kiss, claim her heart by your own hand. A heart, pure, flawless-and filled with love. It is the best offering humans can give to Lemurians. -Lemurian Ruins, Slate No. 0065, Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God”. 

(Amund has served multiple Gods of the Sea over the centuries. Are these all reincarnations of Rafayel or are there multiple Gods of the Sea?)

6 months after Rafayel and MC celebrate her birthday, he and Amund take her to the Island of Songs (now no longer an island), which she recognizes. She remembers her past life with Rafayel and realizes that Rafayel will fall into eternal slumber and the seas will never be restored if she does not return his heart. She offers to cut it out, but Rafayel refuses, saying he and the Lemurians will have to find their own way to change the story. He attempts to erase her memories and sever their bond to save her. Rafayel calls her his beloved bride.

Rafayel's flames are black because his power is dying.

“The black flames don’t flicker. They burn silently like the man who lit them. No energy, no warmth, and no hope in sight.” (This is similar to how Rafayel describes being trapped on the beach to MC in Nightly Stroll: “No way out, no hope, and waiting to die.”)

Rafayel: “The…seas will dry up.” MC: “Anything else?” Rafayel: “When the God of the Sea is revived, the seas will awaken. To take back what he’s lost, the God of the Sea must kill his beloved.”

Rafayel: “A god must protect his followers. If the legend pertaining to the God of the Sea is inevitable…”

Rafayel: “Shouldn’t the God of the Sea himself change the story?”

Rafayel: “If the ending is fixed, let us start anew and be rid of this tale.”

Rafayel: “Lemurians must rewrite their own story, with their own hands.”

Rafayel: “Goodbye, my beloved bride.”

MC is returned to the palace with no memories of Rafayel, but she watches the blue fish he gave her when they were young and slowly begins to remember. Hearing that the Lemurians are on the verge of being captured, and remembering that Rafayel intends to leave, she runs out of the city to find him, her memories and their bond once more intact. Rafayel and Amund are outside the city preparing to leave. Rafayel believes there is a way to restore the Lemurians’ home, even if he falls into eternal slumber.

MC: “Miss Natasha, who gifted me this fish?” Natasha: “Your Highness’s most important person.”

Amund: “What is Your Quintessence waiting for? I’ve served as a Lemurian Elder for centuries. Your Quintessence is the first God of the Sea who dared rewrite the Tome of the Sea God. Refusing to take her heart, Your Quintessence’s life must burn away. Your-” Rafayel: “What matters is our opportunity to return home. Having a God of the Sea makes no difference.”

Unsure how to resolve things, they set out on a camel across the desert to find Whalefall City. Amund is with them. Rafayel suggests that somehow by going to Whalefall City, he’ll be able to show her the sea. (Based on the Tender Moment, Whalefall Lament, it seems likely that Whalefall City is the name of the Lemurian city under the sea that Rafayel grew up in as a child on Earth.) The blue fish in the palace turns into a scale, presumably the one he gifted her to form their bond.

“Deep within the palace, the little blue fish slowly turns into a silver scale and sinks to the bottom of the glass bowl.”

“Philos’s seas have dried up for 30,000 years. The prophecy of gold has faded. Maybe there will never again be churning rivers or boundless seas. The Princess with a god’s heart, the God of the Sea who saved her-the Lemurian who rescued her from a cage time and time again… They will meet once more. -Legends From Deepspace: Sea of Golden Sands Chapter 1”

Rafayel: “Didn’t you want to visit the sea? We’ll head to Whalefall City.”

Thoughts, comments, theories, corrections? Please share!

[airandangels]

Assorted thoughts about Infinity Nikki

The controls when playing on mobile are really poor. I would almost say don’t even bother with it unless you have a Bluetooth controller to link to your phone or tablet. It’s still a bit difficult (Nikki tends to bumble off the edges of things when I thought I’d made her stop) but the difference is huge, particularly in the dungeons that require platform jumping.

The bike controls on mobile are simply diabolical, so my Nikki jogs everywhere.

The graphics are really lovely, although I can tell I’m not getting the half of them on a phone screen. It’s the difference between pretty and beautiful. I am obviously not going to buy a gaming PC or laptop for the sake of a dress-up gacha game, but I wish it was available for the Mac OS. My iPad is older and can’t even run it.

I’m not a big fan of the way all but two of the ability outfits change Nikki’s hair colour to assorted shades of blonde. She’s a natural pinkhead and I think that ought to be consistent in those sets. It looks to me like an alternate specialist Nikki taps in and then out again. I imagine they have different personalities; purification Nikki is elegant and calm and has a sort of hallowed air about her, a bit of a Virgin Mary vibe. Fishing Nikki is mellow and down to earth. Bug-catching Nikki is perky and excitable. Animal-grooming Nikki is Fluttershy. And floating Nikki, well, she’s the problem child. Floating Nikki’s all like “I bet I can make that. Hold my beer, Momo,” and then (narrator voice) “She did not make it.” She’s not even very good at floating/double-jumping, she’s hard to direct and if you accidentally hit the jump button again she drops like a rock. Fortunately, there’s no fall damage in this game, unless you fall into water more than knee deep which is instant death. In that really cool cutscene where Nikki helps Nonoy by flinging her through the air like the fastball special, I was like “I’m glad this is a cutscene because there’s no bloody way I could do that manually.”

Where are Nikki’s cute swimsuit and rock-climbing sportswear outfits? Coming in an update, I hope. Nikki has prettier outfits than Link but she desperately envies his climbing and swimming. Also his ability to aim.