#the time gaps between titles are not to scale

[twin-chains]

Chronological LOZ timeline because Nintendo are cowards

The blue titles indicate non-canon games

I’ll post the explanations to make it make sense later, maybe make a whole slideshow if I feel like it. I have big plans for explaining away Skyward Sword so stay tuned…

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Homesickness.

Pairing: Yandere!Silver x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 1.6k.

Commissioned by the very lovely @felix-the-lemon-king.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Physical Intimidation, Arranged Marriages, and Manipulation.

“You’re going to miss the ball, beloved.”

You flinched into yourself as you heard his voice, accompanied by the sound of clipped heels against stone floors and the slight reverberation of both disruptions against barren walls. A foolish, naïve part of you had convinced the rest that a royal guard – no, a general would have too much pride to be found absent from his own betrothal celebrations, let alone be seen in a servant’s hall, but you should’ve known better. There were many in Briar Valley who let their pride distort their vision, countless who allowed their rank and titles to overshadow even their most basic sense of rationality. Silver was, tragically, not among them.

And Silver was, tragically, the only resident of the valley you were engaged to.

You didn’t rush to respond. Patiently, you counted the seconds until he was standing at the base of the stairwell you’d took refuge in – not unlike the way you used to hide in spare bedrooms and vacant parlors as a child, whenever your parents were entertaining guests who had too many questions about your pointed ears and the scales on the backs of your hands. And, tangentially, you couldn’t say the bolt of dread that would always strike your chest when you heard you parents calling you out of that day’s chosen hiding place was totally dissimilar to the fear that knotted in the back of your throat as Silver stepped into your line of sight, coming to stand in the doorway at the stairwell’s base. He was still dressed in his regalia, his clothing evenly divided between the pitch-black armor of the royal guards and the formal attire that would be expected, given the occasion. His sword was sheathed at his waist – a sight that, weeks ago, might’ve made you somewhat wary, but that you’d since grown desensitized to. No part of you found comfort in the fact that he seemed to be constantly within arm’s reach of a weapon, but it was hard to be scared of something he never seemed to draw.

It took him a moment to find you in the darkness, his eyes more limited by it than your own, but he seemed to soften as his gaze finally landed on you. “You’ll miss the ball,” he repeated, his tone concerned rather than irritated. Another small blessing – for a knight, your betrothed seemed remarkably slow to anger. “Is something wrong? I know Malleus took charge of the arrangements, but if something doesn’t suit your preferences, I can—”

“It’s beautiful,” you assured, because it was. Because it had been. Because for any little girl from the Briar Valley or any other fae land had been in your place, this all would’ve been nothing short of a dream come true, but you weren’t a little girl, and you weren’t from Briar Valley, and you found very few things beautiful about the idea of getting married at all, let alone to a man you had only recently met. “It’s only…” You curled your hands around the fabric of your own attire. “I’m afraid I’m just… not very good at parties, I guess. I’m sorry.”

You half-expected Silver to frown, to urge you back to the banquet hall he’d come from, but he only sighed, shaking his head in a sympathetic sort of way before taking to the stairs and seating himself beside you, leaving a measured gap between your body and his. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you’re not used to being here, just yet.” He paused, flashed a small smile in your direction. Even at the best of times, you struggled to read his expression – not because he was overly cold, but because he always seemed to radiate that same uncanny, only a touch above off-putting warmth. At least a portion of it had to be insincere. Fae or human, there wasn’t a person alive who could be so consistently affable. “It took me months to adjust, the first time I left the valley. Everything was so alien – if I hadn’t been travelling with my father, I wouldn’t have lasted more than a day.”

It was difficult, but you did your best to smile, to laugh. Although your pairing had seemed strange at first, it did make a twisted kind of sense – a fae born without magic, raised by the human nobility of a country with only negligible ties to Briar Valley, arranged to marry a human with magical prowess in spades, raised in service of a fae king, for the mutual benefit of their homelands. You wouldn’t have been surprised to find out it was a part of some elaborate joke, the type it was rumored your kin were so fond of. It was only unfortunate that you had to be the target of their humor.

“The dark bothers me more than anything,” you admitted, before you could think better of it. “Where I come from, it’s almost always sunny. Having to live someplace without light and with so little warmth—” And so many cruel faces, and so many gnashing teeth, “—I suppose I’m at a bit of a loss.”

“It’s not always like this.” It was the most eagerly you’d ever seen him speak. “You’ve come during a poor season for it, but the view from the castle’s highest tower on a clear day is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and the valley’s coasts get much more sun. I’ve heard they tend to hold their festivals around this time of year, too.” He seemed to pause, to consider, then went on, “After the wedding, I’d be my pleasure to take you to one.”

At that, you let yourself relax. He was aloof, sure, but he was kind, too. You could be thankful for that, if nothing else. “I was planning to return home as soon as possible, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stay a little longer.”

“Of course.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought you heard him moving closer to you. “Malleus suggested we continue to stay in the castle while you settle, but… it would be nice, if we had our own home.”

Your delicate smile wavered. “Silver, I know we haven’t talked about this but—”

“Unless you’d like to stay here, I mean. But, I’d still like to show you the cabin where—”

“Silver,” you tried, again, letting out an exasperated laugh. “I meant that I’m not going to stay in the valley at all after the wedding. I understand why I’ve been asked to marry you, and it’s not that I haven’t enjoyed my time here, but—” Another laugh, a pleading glance in his direction. “I don’t belong here, as you wouldn’t belong anywhere but Briar Valley. You know that, don’t you?”

Now, it was Silver’s turn to go quiet. When you found the nerve to look toward him, you found him staring blankly ahead, his lips ever so slightly quirked downward. Huh.

So that was what he looked like, after he’d gone cold.

You didn’t see him draw his sword. His hand was on his hilt, grip tight enough to bleed the color from his knuckles, and then, your back was pressed against the harsh slant of the staircase, the flat of his blade pressed to the base of your throat and Silver above you. You didn’t scream. You didn’t move. You might’ve forgotten to breathe, too, if you hadn’t been shocked enough to let out a single, airy gasp – just loud enough to be audible.

“After the wedding,” he started, speaking slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid you might not understand. “I think you should remain in the valley, with me. I’ll build us a house – a cabin not far from the castle – and you’ll be safe and warm for as long as I can take care of you. Would you like that?”

You opened your mouth, but suddenly couldn’t remember how to move your tongue. Silver angled his wrist, the slant of his blade pressing into tender flesh. “Would you like that, beloved?”

“I---” You forced yourself to swallow, to shut your eyes. “I want to go home, Silver.”

This time, you felt something razor-sharp and frigid bite into the skin just below your jawline, drawing the thinnest possible trail of blood. “And you will.” Then, after a measured pause, “And that home will be with me.”

He wasn’t cruel enough to make you say it aloud. All it took was a quick nod, a pathetically fractured whimper, and he was drawing back, returning his sword to its sheath as he pushed himself to his feet. There was no mention of swords or cabins or the blood now dripping down your neck – only long, weighted look, the implications of which you didn’t wish to examine. “Stay here.” Almost reflexively, you moved to stand, but all it took was a tilt of his head and a flash of his blade to have you falling back into place, paralyzed. “I’ll tell Malleus that you won’t be returning. When I’m finished, we’ll return to our chambers together.”

You hadn’t formerly been sharing chambers, but pointing that out felt redundant, if not entirely useless.

You watched as he started to turn away, only to hesitate and return to you. With a deliberate kind of slowness, he lowered himself onto one knee in front of you, taking your limp hand in his. “Of all the people I could’ve been betrothed to, I’ve found myself increasingly glad that I’m betrothed to you.”

His smile was warmer than it ever had been, and yet, you’d never felt so cold.

“And, eventually, I know you’ll feel the same.”

[oceantornadoo]

love is a family business ch 1 (mafia lawyer!john price x mafia princess f!reader)

masterlist | next

follow and turn on notifications: @tornadoowarning

The thing about working for your family is that you don’t get a say, in well, anything.

“I still don’t understand why we have to do this.” You mutter, eyes stuck in a glare at your conversation partner, who just shrugs. “We need outside counsel to go legitimate, Dove. You know how tricky the Shadows can be.” You restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Your cousin, one of your family’s soldiers, likes to talk to you like you’re on the playground, toddlers arguing over toys. Always uses that nickname you hate - Dove. A trait he only shows with people his own age, never the higher-up bosses. 

“I get that. What I'm saying is, why Price & Partners? There are better barristers to go to.” Not to mention less overbearing, but you keep that bit to yourself. “It’s what Uncle wants.” You almost sneer at how he uses an informal title to refer to your father while talking down to the same man’s daughter, but you restrain yourself. “Ask him yourself, he’s your dad.” The linchpin to the problem - no one can stand up to you dad. You sigh, shaking off the instant regret that weighs itself on your shoulders. “You better have gotten the sister. I do not want John Price.”

John Price is in your office, caressing the spines of your books like he has the right.

“You’re in the wrong office. The Division for Pompous Assholes is downstairs.” You greet him with a glare, leaving your office door open in a clear message. He doesn’t receive it, another fault of John Price.

“You’re as cheery as ever.” Price replies, eyes flashing with contempt. He settles into one of the chairs in front of your desk, eyes flitting about as he takes in the office you never let him see. A bookshelf full of financial and self-help books takes up most of the wall, with your comfort reads hidden between tomes of theories and market analyses. Plants fill in the gaps, spots of green brightening the grey walls of your office. The visitor chairs are purposefully uncomfortable, dug out of the building basement when your father insisted that chairs were necessary. You prefer the couch off to the side, thrifted from your favorite discount furniture store that you know would be looked down upon if your family knew. It’s light brown, cushy with artfully bright throw pillows and perfect for a midday nap when you have the rare time. The desk takes up the rest of the room, dark wood to match the shelves and your name plated in gold.

Price taps the name plate with his finger, letting it vibrate on impact. You clear your throat in an attempt to go straight into business, but he gets there first. “Almost a real businesswoman.” Your eyes roll, unbidden. “Like you’re part of such a stand-up firm.” You bite out. When he shifts in his seat, you’re willing to bet your entire fortune that it’s because the gun in his waistband is digging into his spine. 

“Heard you’re trying to go legit.” Price replies, ignoring your question completely. Relieved to get down to business, you shuffle the folders left on your desk, trying to find your report. 

“Yes. The forecast I made-” 

“Surprised your daddy is letting you entertain this.”

Your head snaps up fast as a whip. “Surprised your sister let you come here all alone.” You retort, venom on your tongue. The invisible scales of your argument, tipping towards Price, suddenly straighten to a perfect balance. Your feathers ruffled, you straighten your shoulders and produce your calculations from your folder, setting the packet in front of Price. “Read it.” His calloused fingers brush the top of the paper, touching the spot your fingers just deserted. It feels strangely intimate, like he’s tracing the mark you’ve made. Your eyes meet, searing as something unknown and unspoken passes between you two.

“I-”

“Dove!” Colin, your secretary, knocks frantically at your door. He’s one of the few non-Made men that work in the building, paid more than he’s worth for his silence. “Your father needs you.” Colin reports. Price smirks at you. There’s practically a bell ringing in the distance, signaling he’s won this round. 

“Make an appointment for the next time you visit, Price.” You order him as you gather your things hurriedly. He grunts in the way that acknowledges your statement, but doesn’t agree with it. You make a grab for the report on the desk, but Price snatches it before you can grab it. “I’ll read it.” He explains gruffly. Shocked, all you can do is nod before leaving him there, staring at your desk.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Colin as you speed walk down the hallway. Your heels click rapidly, belaying your rising anxiety. Colin knows not to interrupt your meetings, which means this has to be important. “You know they don’t tell me these things.” Colin mutters. Despite his job, you’re around the same age, so he lets you nudge his shoulder in indulgent informality. 

“Be glad you don’t know. If everything works out, maybe we’ll be able to get more people like you working for us.” You reply, injecting forced cheerfulness into your tone. There’s already tension in your shoulders as you near your father’s office, on the opposite side of the building from yours. For a reason, so you don’t hear stuff like:

“Where the hell is my daughter!”

Your father’s voice reverberates through the walls of the building, echoed shortly by the sound of a pounding fist against a desk. You stand in front of the door, steeling yourself as you breathe in and out. One, two, three. You push through.

“There you are.” And there he is, in all his glory. Your father is standing, a hulking beast entrapped behind a mahogany desk. “Hello, Father.” The Chairman, boss of one of the major crime syndicates based in London. His hair, cropped close and rapidly graying in the past years, belays how frustrated he is. Its usual gelled stature has been interrupted, with a few strands laying this way and that. You’ve never seen him this out of control of his physical appearance, a sign that something is very wrong.

“Everything okay?” You ask timidly, a necessary change from your whip smart banter with Price. Father shakes his head, and a pit forms in your stomach. “Twenty dead. Thousands of weapons stolen. They took one of the MacTavishes, Charlie.” Your heart stops. The MacTavishes are one of your closest aligned families, known for supplying contraband items like weapons or documents. Charlie’s like you, determined to make something right out of all this wrong. He helped you prepare your report on going legitimate, using his extensive family connections for input on Scottish gangs with legitimate businesses. It’s symbolic that they only took him, when you know for a fact his brother Johnny was there as well.

Once a crime family, always a crime family. There’s no notion of leaving, of becoming a real company. A warning, written in blood.

“Who died? Is Johnny okay? Do they want a ransom?” You sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, fingertips playing with the fabric of your slacks. Now more than ever is a time you wish for another sibling. One with the same violent tendencies of your father, ready to hit back with war plans rather than questions. Being an only child, and a girl at that, puts you at a clear disadvantage in the life you live. The disappointment in your reaction is written clear on your father’s face, forehead wrinkles crinkling as he purses his lips.

“Not important. You’re here for another reason.” You furrow your brows in confusion. His face is one of stone, purposeful to keep you in the dark. These days, he’s your Chairman much more than your father. Days of walking hand in hand, visiting your mother’s grave and laying down flowers, all fade to distant memories. “What do you mean?” Another timid question, another exasperated facial expression. Instead of answering, he sips from the glass tumbler in front of him, the dark liquid in it most likely being scotch. He swallows silently before answering.

“They’re targeting you. Words leaked out you’re the one who wants to take us legitimate. Your competence isn’t a secret anymore.” He’s referring to the strategy you formed together long ago. Keeping you out of the spotlight, letting you go to college in America to keep your intelligence under wraps. A picture perfect image of a mafia princess, innocent and unknowing of the blood on your family’s hands. Less safety issues for the heir if they think you’re useless, and probably not the heir at all. There’s been illusions to one of your distant cousin, Kyle Garrick, taking over, all while you’ve been prepping for years to hit the families with a force they’ve never seen.

It all assumes that you want this life, this blood on your hands.

A dangerous assumption to make.

“So what are you thinking?” You know better than to offer your own opinion. By the way he’s restraining himself, you’re sure Father already has a solution. He encouraged your education and your project, but there’s been an itching feeling that it’s all been to keep you distracted. To work up to whatever finale he’s planning to end these attacks.

“Marriage.”

Marriage?

It’s not like you’ve never heard the word. The timeline you formed for him years ago has clearly been abandoned. Marriage wasn’t planned for at least five more years, once the both of you decided which allies you could trust. To abandon the plan is a show of how desperate he is, how little he cares for your opinion. How little he trusts you.

“Father, I don’t understand.” You bite out. It’s the most you can show of your reaction without revealing your weakness, the shakeable wrongness of your position. Your hands sweat and you resist from pulling on your collared shirt. “A wedding, You. The Shadows and all the other families will have to be there. The perfect time to strike.” Father smiles when he says it, like he’s glad to commit mass murder on the day of your wedding. In hindsight, it is a good plan. Other than that and a funeral, there’s no other kind of event that will get all the families in one place. Your family, The Family, can pat them down and leave them weaponless, shooting ducks in a barrel. So why do you feel so apprehensive? Words escaping you, all you can do is nod for him to continue. 

“It’ll need to be to a family that isn’t directly part of the Outfit, one that won’t take weeks to negotiate. One that we can buy.” You’re glad to be sitting as your mind spins, dizzying questions of who and when and how floating around like a carousel. Your father seems to have no qualms with selling you off to any bidder willing. It’s clear he means to bring another exterior family under yours, one who won’t object as much as an enemy family like the Shadows or the Graves. Joining with them would be opening up the Family’s weaknesses for all to see. And God forbid the wedding didn’t go through, not to mention how evil the potential husbands might be.

You should be thanking your lucky stars that he wants to marry you off to a supplier or a smaller ally.

Should.

“Do I get to have a say in the selection?” You murmur, resolute that any outright protests will be met with a silent glare. You have no bargaining chip, and the freedom of your love life is worth being able to continue making the Family legitimate. It has to be.

“If you have any strategic suggestions.” Translation: don’t suggest someone you would actually want to marry. Although, there aren’t any names on that list either. In an attempt to paralyze him with too much information, you start listing off any names you can think of. “Well, there’s the MacTavishes, of course. Johnny, the twins, and Ben are all unmarried, though I’m not sure if they’re dating anyone.” A snort bursts from your father. You’ve already made a mistake - unmarried relationships aren’t taken seriously in lives like yours. It’s like a tax filing, single or married. You blame the insanity of the situation on your slip of tongue. Plus, while the MacTavishes are some of your favored suppliers, they’re already extremely loyal and wouldn’t bring anything to the table.

“Nikolai-” 

“Be serious, daughter. This isn’t a game. Someone who would give you an heir.” He’s referring to the unspoken relationships between Nikolai, heir to a transportation fortune, and countless male socialites back in Russia. Licking your lips, you contemplate how much longer you can skirt past actual candidates. By the tone in your father’s voice, you’ve run out of chances. Speed is the only card you can play.

“Dean Griffen.” Gun manufacturer.

“West Finnigan.” Explosives expert.

“Blake Massey.” Drug supplier.

“Theo Volker.” House of the Lords, but Made.

“John Price.” Mortal enemy.

“Lee-”

“Stop.” You look up, cheeks warming from the embarrassment of having suitable suitors memorized. Part of your job, but it feels salacious now.

“The Prices just got hit with a government investigation for evidence tampering. Something about pissing off the Graves.” Father says, almost to himself. He starts typing away at his computer, and you desire to throw it to the ground. Price was a stupid name to mention, a zero probability of an enjoyable marriage. Your game, usually both tactical and strategic, has gone out the window. “If they’re being investigated, shouldn’t we stay away? It wouldn’t look good, especially with Kyle being considered for appointment to the House of Lords.” A stretch, since you’re third cousins, but a plea all the same. Father shakes his head sharply and your heart stops. “Not if we can pull some strings. They’ll be in our debt. Kate will be desperate to keep her assets from being seized.” Finality threads through his words. You start to shake your head, one last effort.

“Father, please, I can’t marry John. He’s horrible. Give me a day and I can find you more names.” Your voice wavers at the end, begging him to remember his daughter and not just his heir. For a second, there’s a glimmer of hope. His eyes soften minutely. And then, it’s gone.

No.

“This is your duty to this family, daughter. This is what you’ve been preparing for your whole life. You do this, and I will consider your proposal to be legitimate.” A thousand butterflies erupt in your stomach at his last sentence. A chance to have your work listened to. To get rid of the guilt that haunts you every corner, knowing how many innocents get caught in the crossfires of what they do. Maybe, if your plan is successful, he’ll allow you a divorce or an annulment. Uncommon, but not unheard of. Hope. 

“Deal.” You stick your hand out for a handshake. There’s a moment when you don’t think he’ll take it, but eventually you feel his weathered hand in yours. When’s the last time they embraced? A goodnight forehead kiss or a hug after a long day? Years ago, before your mother’s death, surely. When Father squeezes your hand, it feels like pride in your business demeanor. You pull away and straighten your shoulders. It takes two steps for you to open the door to your future.

“Colin!” He’s down the hall, waiting patiently for you. “Yes?” His blonde eyebrows knit in confusion at your summons. You’re not usually so authoritative with him, but you don it like a shield in preparation. “Go find Price and tell him we have a business proposal for him and his sister. Make sure you emphasize the urgency of it.” Colin nods and speeds off, his leather work shoes clacking on the granite floors.

Married to John Price, the son of a barrister empire.

The one thing you know is you won’t be changing your last name.

The rest is up to your family.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Girl when I tell you I absolutely NEED part 3 to Customary or I might die!! Omggg that yearning shit had me covering the smile on my mouth and licking my feet. 🤭 It’s too good! It’s too cute! You might actually be a wizard. I’m bowing down to you, slow-burn queen 🙌

My fingers.... They are burning.... with dESIRE.

Title: Wounded Pride. Fandom: ( Kindgom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of violence, blood, injury and mating. ) Words: 6K ( Someone stop me jk don't. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: You were ignoring each other, that much was clear. How long was it going to last? Noa felt like he was bursting at the seams and you felt like you had lost all sense of reasoning. ** Does Contain Spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. **

READ THE SERIES HERE. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ “Noa!” That was a frantic tone and lured the Chimp to raise his head in question. His ears moved to focus on where it was coming from. Off to his left, maybe 10 or so meters away. Not too far if he needed to run. He made a barking sound in response. Hearing his name was not enough.  His vision caught a few things. Leaves tangling against the ruins of a past structure. Echo in nature, through and through and hideously ugly. Nothing like what Apes built he beamed with decent pride at that. His body swung at the sound of his name vibrating along the walls encapsulating him like a barren playground. His set of feet and hands were pressed into the ground now. He was braced, ready to take off. Respond, Noa’s mind felt like it was melting, waiting for his fellow friends to communicate. He traced his gaze right along the trees that were bursting through the sturdy concrete, determined to grow in such ludacris circumstances. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than he had felt in quite some time, at least since his encounter with Proximus Caesar.  “Noa! You need to come quick!” The fur along his spine pricked at that, standing on edge. A sensation not often felt with him. It screamed ‘danger ahead!’ His nerves yelled at him, muscles feeling tense. The voice was very much Soona’s, tangling with Anaya’s as they began yelling over each other. Well, it couldn’t have been that serious if they were both taking time to yell, some tanglement of arguing with each other hitting Noa’s ears as he finally picked his pace up to a gallop. Coming to what could only be described as a skirting stop, Noa’s hands and feet dug into the earth below him to stop him from tumbling over, making quite crazed eye contact with Soona and Anaya as his mind caught up with his body. Both unharmed, he sighed from relief at that. Anaya was breathing heavily - Nervous? Noa questioned silently and looked at Soona again, shoulders fraught. He stared at her, expecting an explanation without having to ask for one. She was quick to oblige but didn't bother with words. Merely stepping aside, her entire self bumped into Anaya’s and they both shuffled to the side on all fours looking between Noa and what was behind them in the long grass that grew without care. Noa came forward, keeping his senses on guard in case there was danger with what Soona and Anaya had found. His friends were fast to follow right behind him. Noa never had it in him to advise that he was just as scared as they were at times like this. He swallowed it down and did what he needed. Soona and Anaya needed him to be brave and that was often his gift to them. Their gift back? Their unwavering friendship and support through the years. Green eyes scaled the grassy area in front of him to observe before he got too close. Some blades were painted red. Noa hesitated briefly. It had to be blood, Noa roughly vocalized to Soona and Anaya to stand back, stay back. They did just that, stopping their movements as Noa bridged the gap of two feet between himself and the patch. 

“Still… Alive?” Soona asked quietly. Noa glanced back at her, watching as she dipped her head precariously. Anaya was standing close to her, holding onto her arm out of fear. Noa looked back at the grass, or rather, what was in it. Between the long entanglements of weeds and vines he could make out the striking notions of blood splatter. Fresh, it still looked wet. Swallowing back something that was resting in his throat, Noa stood. If there was danger, he needed to appear as large as he could. One of the many tactics a Chimpanzee had when faced with the unknown. The extra height he got going from all fours to bi-pedal was all he needed to see clearly what was in that busted patch of grass. ‘Echo!’ He signed at Anaya and Soona. 

‘Has to still be alive!’ Anaya was fast to respond to his best friend, his hands finding it a bit difficult to move so quickly. The next set of words were jumbled but Noa understood. It had made a sound when Soona and Anaya probed it, which prompted them to call Noa in return. 

‘What…’ Soona’s signing was slow compared to Anaya’s. She was always more thoughtful and Noa savored that in this moment, trying so hard to keep himself from going straight into panic. ‘What… do.. We do?’

‘Put out of misery.’ Anaya wasn’t joking. 

Noa held his hand up, fingers twisted into a hard fist. Soona and Anaya both fell deathly quiet. He was not about to mercy kill. What was in front of him would die on its own once the cold of the night came around. There was evident damage to their legs, close to the ankles, blood pooling there and trickling down the smooth nature of the skin into the dirt below. He made a fast sign to his friends telling them. He heard them both gasp under their breath as Noa made a move closer, crouching to get more detail, his hands and feet tangling in on themselves with the spaced movement of Noa’s broad body. Cut around the temple, hit by rock maybe, or fell on face, burns around wrists, most likely from being bound. Noa was making quick notes of what he was seeing. He looked right. Nothing. He looked to the left and noticed blood droplets and traced their trajectory mindfully. It was coming from the direction of the cave that kept the Eagle Clan secluded from other Apes in the area. That was all Noa needed to know. The Echo in front of him must have been hunted, nearly to the brink of death.  ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

‘How?’ Anaya signed at Noa, huffing deeply at his friend who was pacing, very distraught. The sounds from the Ape in front of him told Noa to stop moving and to focus, pay attention to the conversation at hand but it was apparent with the shoulder movements of aggravation that that was not going to happen. Noa was an obsessive creature, and Anaya knew that. Once he was locked and entranced by something, by any force of nature, Noa would tear it open and figure it out to satisfy his need to fix, his need to deduce. That’s what made him so good at tinkering, at resolving. It must have been a secretive thing Noa wanted to talk about this time around, eager to get Anaya alone. Stalking and biding his time almost all day to get his friend pinned for a conversation. Without Soona, without his mother. ‘Echo got offended?’ The signing of those words were accompanied by a funny face, Anaya very obviously curious how Noa had managed that one. Neither had heard of an Echo being offended, though, from the Elders of the Clan, they had always made the assumption that they were quick to anger. Maybe the same thing, Anaya bargained with Noa, but Noa felt this was different than simple anger and told his friend that sternly.

Noa had put everything incredibly broad, unsure of how to approach his closest confidant with what had happened between himself and you. Too many details would give away Noa’s primal intent. He gave the gist of it with words a few minutes ago, Anaya intently listening to Noa’s voice waver. Up and down, the placement of his tone unsure and full of self-loathing. He continued, explaining in part the conversation about the human custom of kissing, only the important details, followed by a very cliff-noted version of the hunting endeavor. Anaya must have sensed the urgency, choosing to sign rather than put more effort into it by speaking. Anyway, he justified it further by thinking that signing was more private. Less likely for someone to overhear, or well…. Oversee. Tilting his head to the side, Anaya felt a sigh roll from him as Noa finally stopped pacing, now choosing to sit rather defensively on his hands and feet. ‘How?’ Anaya repeated. 

‘I do not know.’ Shamefully, Noa dropped his hands after admitting that, his jaw clenching tightly for a moment as he grinded his teeth together. They clattered, his canines distracting his train of thought for a split second as he moved his tongue over them. ‘Echo just…’ Signs were not coming to him. Thoughts were not coming to him. Throwing his hands up in vivid frustration, Noa gave up and let a growl fall from his lips, snarling his lips for a second as it became a bit louder before tapering into a hum of sorts. Anaya blinked, hunching forward on all fours and drifted his way very slowly to sit by Noa. 

‘Why… you bothered?’

‘I do not know.’ He repeated this time. 

Anaya nodded, only looking at his friend from the corner of his eye. ‘Maybe… Apology?’ That was definitely an avenue that Noa had considered, in fact it was the first thing that popped into his mind. Chimps were good at apologies. Never with words, often they reached their hands out, palms up and waited for the party getting the concession to accept. It had a great acceptance rate, but Noa doubted you’d want that. Just throw an apology your way and see how it sticks! What could go wrong? You’d never talk to him again…  He grunted out a denial to Anaya at that prospect and turned his shoulders away. Defensive in nature. 

‘You… need tell Anaya…’ He tilted his head in hesitation, knowing what he was about to suggest would be a dangerous path, even though they were friends. “What Noa actually said.” There was confidence in his verbalization, stressing and driving home to Noa that it was a necessity to spill his guts for Anaya to properly gauge the situation and help. “Asked.. about mating.” Noa was fast to speak, hoping that maybe his voice was too weak for Anaya to understand. He underestimated it though and it came out sounding like a sour grape. “Asked if pleasured.” Noa turned his face towards Anaya, giving him a certain look that told him all he needed to know. He got his needed information and now he needed to process. And… It surely brought to light a lot of things. 

A lot. 

Anaya sat back on his butt, displaying a rather surprised expression. Noa didn't bother looking at him, already able to see the emotions on his friend's face just in his mind. That’s what they got for years of being around each other. Each minute move either face or body was known and read right away. 

“Stupid.” He told Noa honestly which resulted in a chortle from the Eagle Clan’s leader. It was the sound of agreement. “Echo like privacy. Stupid to ask. Not like us! Keep many secrets away from Noa, from all Apes.” There was intense scrutiny in Anaya’s voice. There was a reason why the Elders told stories, wary ones, about the Echo’s. About how they were and how they disregarded things that weren’t important to them. Selfish! Anaya chuffed, wanting to pull Noa in physically and beat him into submitting, giving Anaya all the answers he needed to deduce what Noa was already enthralled in. Instead though, he urged, “Why ask?”

Noa dropped his shoulders at the mild scolding and dipped his chin towards his body. He knew what Anaya was saying was right and there was no logical excuse anymore why he asked what he did or why he felt somehow entitled to an answer from you. ‘Curious.’ He didn't have it in him to speak.

Anaya wasn’t seething perse, instead, he was statically quiet which was even worse to Noa. Anaya was a chatterbox, even if it was about nothing of consequence. This… Was out of the norm and it made Noa incredibly uncomfortable. He began shifting his weight from one side to another, swaying out of mere anticipation of being scolded again. And if Anaya got too into it, Noa could just choose to gallop away. He didn't have to take it! He was the leader. He was… He was the Eagle Clan. 

“Stupid.” Anaya muttered again, picking himself up and moving. He couldn’t be next to Noa as he processed. 

“Told me they only mate out of survival, hardly… the other reasons..” Anaya’s mouth popped open. Noa got further into the conversation than he led his friend to believe. Previously, the assumption was made that you didn't respond and merely began ignoring him out of offense. 

Anaya exploded. “Echo not stupid, Noa is. Should have left it to die in the woods when found. Then, Noa wouldn’t be here telling Anaya stupid things!”

Noa lurched at that. Not at Anaya, but unquestionably at the implications of his words. At least, that was what Noa was going to tell himself later when the guilt set in that he drew his aggression at his best friend. The animalistic movement was taken the wrong way, made evident as Anaya billowed as Noa approached him, drawing into himself to appear smaller, more weak, more favorable. Raising his hand up, Noa was chaste to brush his fingertips against Anaya’s open palm. Apology. Simple and clean. Anaya submitted to his friend and watched as he turned, leaving the Chimp still as dumbfounded as before. Though, with a bit more insight. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

You could smell dried blood but you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your heavy eyelids. Warmth was collapsing over you, wave after wave. Each one brought another one of your senses with it. There was a mild tingling in your right ear, prickling at your hearing as you tried to adjust it enough to figure out your surroundings. Last thing you remembered was stumbling… Hands pacing over a bricked wall in the dark, trying too hard to find a place where you didn't need to run for your life. Your hand pressing to your forehead, bloodied from a cut on the side near your temple, vision blurring in and out of focus. Your knees buckled from exhaustion, crashing onto grass that definitely appeared softer than it felt… It was hot for a second but then it was awfully cold, your body taking a plunge into an invisible ocean of sheer ice. Then, it all went black. Maybe, if you were lucky, you were dead. Whirling endlessly in limbo somewhere between the Earth and the Heavens, searching for the next place to go. Maybe you were asleep, dreaming up violent situations from your subconscious. After all, it did what it wanted to in your dreams; you had no control over that. Would you be aware if you were dreaming though? That idea spurred you to cross it off the list of possibilities. Hm… Or maybe you were dead, you repeated. Your eyes did not want to open. You were so warm… Another wave hit you all of a sudden and you became aware of the smothering sensation of animal fur against your back. Against your arms. Against your legs. Against your entire body. Voices without bodies were floating around you. They sounded human enough and that put you at some ease. You jumped the gun there. Thinking you had been caught by a bunch of ravenous Apes. Ha. Ha. Ha…

Jolting, you were abruptly conscious. 

Not conscious enough, you decided. Drawing a deep breath into your lungs to accommodate for the lack of air you got while passed out, you found your eyes peering into green ones directly above you. Not just regular green, you tilted your head and tried desperately to ignore the throb coming from your temple. Entrancing, grappling for dominance with flecks of outstanding gold against a canvas of darkened pupils. Oh yeah, you were dead. You were definitely looking into the eyes of God, you said sarcastically in your wounded trance and shut your eyes again. “Awake! Echo is awake!” You heard that clear as day and it did nothing to help the already soundless nature of the drumming in your head. It was followed up but a few soft hoots of acknowledgement which caused the hair on your arms to stick up in defense and your eyes to fly open without reserve. Ape. Ape. Ape. You counted them with wide eyes. Three. Maybe? Maybe more? You had a hard time telling as your eyes were adjusting back to some sort of normalcy after being drenched and flooded with blood. Wherever you were was not very bright save for a fire in the corner that drifted up what appeared to be wooden planks that were tilted inwards. No natural light came in and it beckoned your internal clock to assume that it was night time. You were in a structure of some type; that was easy to figure out regardless of lighting. With Apes. Not just Apes, you squinted and raised yourself on your forearms. Chimpanzees. Three sets of eyes, similarly colored to the ones you woke up peering into. You had no idea nor interest in knowing which one was observing you so closely. If you weren’t dead before, you may as well have been at that moment as you sprinted backwards, almost face first and staggered to your feet. Automatically, you were in a defensive position, trying to ignore the feeling of twisted pain in your ankles. Racing your hands everywhere, you tried to find something to grab. Something to defend yourself with. You needed to! There was nothing in the vicinity. You couldn’t even tell where the door was and your eyes were frantic to find some sort of escape. Shoulders rising and falling quickly, you turned and looked at the Apes again. Your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Your head was pounding and you felt like if you moved your feet anywhere, you were going to tumble. What did they want?

Your mind was flying at a faster speed than you were able to process any cognitive thought. Words were blaring in your ears without anyone yelling. Your group of fellow Humans were all hunted, their chanting still wild in your head. Apes were dangerous. Apes showed no compassion. They liked the kill, they liked the satisfaction. The deeply ingrained instinct to be afraid of them because you didn't understand them, the wild weaned fear of what they could do to you. What they were planning to do! Were they… Oh god, they were going to kill you and then skin you and then eat your insides--- you scrambled again, no regard for how you must have looked as you dropped to your knees, muttering under your breath as you flew around on all fours. You needed to find a way out. There had to be a way out. They were going to attack, they were moving!

Wait.

You paused, hunching on your hands and knees, feeble attempts made to catch your breath but you still found yourself panting like a wild animal. Mouth agape, you looked at the Apes in the room with you before letting your gaze fall down to their hands. Were they… Using sign language?Your back came into crushing contact with the wooden wall behind you, earning a tiny flinch from you as your right shoulder blade radiated. You must have been bruised there, you thought. Despite the grinding pain you were in, you tried to push further back as one of them, only slightly bigger in stature compared to the other two dropped to all fours, now eye level with you, and languidly moved towards you. First a hand, followed by a foot and then repeated until they were right in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat as they leaned in, deathly close to your face that you were able to smell them in your nostrils, mixing now with that previously noted taste of dried blood. Oh, they were going to rip your face off.

“Alive.” They said to you, taking a brash step back when you moved. No shit, you wanted to say but you couldn’t find your voice. Your eyes widened at the movement of them and the sound of their voice. Not aggressive or mean, but it was pensive and quiet. Observant, and you wondered if they were even talking to you or just verbally acknowledging to the other two Apes that you were, well… Alive. Whoever this Ape was… Was courageous enough to face you, to be near you but obviously held some reservations. There was absolutely no way they were just as afraid as you were. 

“Injured.” That was directed towards you, eye contact frantically being made when the smell of fresh blood became more abundantly noticed. Almost afraid to look down, you felt a small gush coming from your right calf. It slipped down the curve of your muscle, mixed with something… A paste of some sort that in itself, in your cloudy disposition, was rather fragrant if you focused on it. Something like a root, pulled and crushed from deep in the Earth. How did that… Get there? You looked at your injury, nothing more than a gash, deeper than it appeared though and it ached if you moved your foot in any awkward positions. “Wh…” Your voice came out ridiculously hoarse, hand reaching up to touch the outside of your throat. The Ape in front of you was watching it all. The inquest on your face, your fingers holding along your throat and focusing on your heart beat. How long have you been out? A day? Two? A week? Swallowing hard, you lubricated your vocal cords just enough to force out a question, “Wh-- What did you… do..t’me?” That was definitely slurred.

“Did nothing!” Another Ape finally spoke, their voice frantic and distraught.Not from nerves…. Right? You looked at them, then at the one adjacent, who was just a touch smaller than the other two, before your gaze fell on the one closest to you, wrought breathing causing your lungs to feel rather tight. Shifting, you tried to relax but found that it only brought discomfort. 

“Injured.” The one in front of you said again, this time with a bit more confidence. Whether it was true or faux, you had no idea but it was difficult to sort anything through your thought process at the moment. You were barely processing the fact that there was quite literally a hole in your calf let alone that an Ape was communicating with you so… Civilly. “Found in… ruins. Dying.” Your lips parted, suddenly becoming aware that you were thirsty. The severity of the words spoken hit you like a feathered ton of bricks. Softly at first, it was initially hazed by the idea that they were capable of saving you instead of killing you. Then, it sank in and it felt like your body was tied to a chair, someone banging on your chest over and over again to just drive the point home that all your preconceptions about these Apes might have been wrong. No! It couldn’t have been wrong! You lived your entire life afraid of them, being told from your childhood to be afraid and to always run away. It was only solidified when each of those Humans you were around were hunted, killed and their bodies dragged around in a triumphant show-boat by a group of Apes on the back of their horses. Squeezing your eyes shut at that visual, often the cause of nightmares for you, you shook your head vehemently. There was no way. 

“We…” They continued on, “saved.” There was a gesture towards the two Apes across the room. “Brought Echo back here… Spear head in leg,” Huh, that explained that, you bargained for some sort of reality. “Took out, stopped bleeding then…” They came to a slow stop and signed something over at the other two. You had no idea what they were saying now. Sign language was not your forte. Maybe, if you could push aside the vibration in your head, you’d be able to read them from body language but that was thrown out the window when you opened your eyes, tears forming at the edges and ultimately blurring your vision. 

“Echo then wake up.”

You snapped, “Wha… What the hell is an Echo?”One of the two behind lurched ever so slightly at the apparent aggression you put into your words, but the one crouched in front of you put a hand up to tell them to stop. 

It gestured at you. 

You rolled your eyes. That must have been their name for Humans. Each clan called them something different, you had figured that out over the years. Instead of having individual names, the human race was deduced down to a word such as ‘Echo’ or ‘Nova’, which you had heard in passing, speckled usually in more secluded clans and only talked about in detail when you were around the fire late at night with other humans. It was lore, it was ghost stories. It was reality now. “I--- Have a name…” You whispered. “(Name).” Hm… With a tilted head to the side, a response came. “Noa.” Finally giving you a bit more clarity. He pointed at the two Apes behind him accordingly, “That Soona,” She looked at you, terrified obviously, but seemingly confident in her friend's ability to talk to you. “Anaya.” Even more terrified, and not as obviously convinced in this Noa Ape to be as outrageously courageous as he was appearing.

“Are…” You quivered in on yourself and looked at him. A string of tears hit your cheeks, hurting at your temple even more than before and profusely lit the flame that caused the beating in your head to intensify rapidly. “Are you going to kill me?” Noa looked at you, draping you in some sort of melancholic state as you realized just how… human his eyes were. How they observed every morsel of your face, taking in the details and probably thinking just how hideous you were compared to Apes. How he’d scrutinize your scent, your well being, your entire self. But, he said nothing, gaze flickering between your eyes before he moved attention to your calf again. You followed suit. It looked worse than it felt, at least you had that. If he were going to kill you, wouldn’t he have already done it? There was a fleeing moment where he felt offended at your accusation, feeling the same coming from Soona and Anaya - primarily the latter. But, he had to remind himself, you were Echo. You did not know any other ways.

“Not all Apes are that way. We do not kill… Echo’s here.” You stiffened watching as he drew himself onto his hands and feet again from his default crouching stance. That was a complete and full sentence. You tried to not bark at him with confusion, not impressed by any means… Well… No! Not impressed. You knew they could talk. It was well---You knew… they could… Your eyes blurred and you felt your head fall to the side before you urged yourself into a more aware state. It lasted only moments before you lulled into an awkward dance with unconsciousness and invested fear. Coldness rocketed right through your leg at the application of more of the root smelling paste to your wound. It didn't sting perse, instead, it felt numbing. Were you so out of it that you didn't see Noa grabbing what appeared to be a clay jar of sorts? Fingers pushing into it and then smearing its contents on your body? You so desperately wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, putting on you but you were shot with another wave of black. You passed out. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Almost sickly aware of the pair of green eyes on you at all times, intricately staring at your movements down to the minute shift of your shoulders as you breathed, you did everything you could to ignore them. Your hands were busy; helping Soona untangle some twine that had gotten itself into a mess of very intricate knots. She had praised you for your help, explaining that ‘Echo hand… smaller than Ape..’ It was a simple and gentle compliment from her, you being grateful to be of some use to someone else in the Clan and not just Noa. With your hands working, your mind fell into a leisurely state as you tried so desperately to convince yourself that Noa wasn’t foolish enough to pull you away from a social situation with Soona. It would seem suspicious and ultimately, Soona would tell Anaya who would then in turn absolutely panic and tell Noa to back off, leave you be and that the only purpose you served here was to please Noa’s curiosity about the Teachings of Caesar. Thinking those things did nothing to help you feel calm. In fact, it was very much the opposite. Your mind did not stop at that though, enticing you to look up. You swept the entire village with your gaze. He had to be there somewhere, he rarely chose to drift off by himself without either of his friends, or even you on occasions but that was only when you served a purpose to him, you convinced yourself that at the moment the agreement was made that you would help Noa understand about human culture. You were still actively trying to convince yourself of that after the last two conversations that abhorrently played in your head in excruciating detail. The absolute devastation on his face when he realized that he had asked you the wrong thing and your petty response was the top of the list for your mental replays. It was your pettiness and inability to say anything positive in response to him that got you the most worked up despite your answer to him being that of pure truth. Humans didn't mate, in Noa’s words, for pleasure. They mated for survival. Setting your twine down now that it was a straight line, you looked over your shoulder once more before glancing down to pick up another knotted piece to work on. Well… What were you supposed to tell him? Looking at it now in a less offended state, you should have just told him that you didn't want to answer. There were a few times in the past that Noa attempted to push a question on you, soon coming to embrace acceptance that you weren’t willing to give him any response and he’d drop it. The two of you never fought about it, never went days upon days without talking or seeing each about them. Were you even fighting? Tilting your head, you shuffled on the ground and spread your legs out instead of sitting cross-legged like you had been for at least the last half hour. Then you began bargaining. He had asked you before if you had mated. If you had someone before you found your way to the Eagle Clan. You never answered him, even then. It was left alone for a long time, Noa not wanting to pry into obviously human privacy. So he was consciously aware of the status of the question he begged you to answer only a few days ago.  You fixated on the way he had signed that word. Pleasure. It was a slow signing, his two hands in front of his chest with a perpendicular circular motion. It was a flurry of intensity. The question. Your chaste answer. Noa falling silent next to you, no doubt self-reflecting at the idiocy of the question. And then… Oh… You had the absolute torture of being silent for the rest of the hunting trip. Noa ignored you, you could sense the coldness coming off of him in waves due to his inner thoughts taking over. You wanted nothing more than to ask him when he inquired about pleasure. How he even knew that it was a pleasurable experience for a human. Was it for Apes? Chimpanzees? You had no idea, choosing to linger in your ignorance and figure that it was not an element to their mating standards.

Huffing, you sat your twine back down and told Soona in a soft tone of voice as to not alarm her, “I need to go pee.” She let you go with silence, figuring your rather fast pace was due to really needing to relieve yourself.

A quick excuse to get you on your legs, pacing towards the right and through the entire embankment of the village to the very edge. Kicking a rock under your foot as you approached the small creek, the very sight of the first incident with Noa, you felt like doing nothing more than grabbing your hair and screaming to the high heavens. What was wrong with you!? Now you were the foolish one, asking questions that shouldn’t need to be asked, that didn't need an answer because what fruit would come from knowing if Apes mated at all for pleasure?

Coming around the small creek embankment, your fast feet came to an almost stumbling stop. Your mind didn't process as quickly as you halted harder than anticipated and almost felt yourself go face first into the shallow water in front of you from the sheer momentum you had. A set of broad shoulders, lined delicately with thinning fur in preparation for the summer, were facing you. Sun peeked across the west as it began its gentle descent into night, flushing the sky now with a light hue of pink and orange. Ah yes… That oh so familiar body in front of you, hand dipped in water in quite solace was none other than the Chimp you were ignored by for days. Well, not just ignored by. You did your fair share of skipping around the stone to not run into him.

Tightly wrapping your fingers into fists at your side, you contemplated going back. It appeared he hadn’t heard you, hadn’t sensed you coming or at the very least, you weren’t worth turning around or acknowledging. Your heart sank at that thought. You were just another tool he used to get his way into fixing a problem that wasn’t his to fix. He… Looked so small… You brought your bottom lip in and chewed it out of deliberation, eyes scaping up his back, broad by nature, but from his posture now, it was brought in on itself and he looked reminiscent of a little kid who had just gotten into big trouble. Maybe, you muttered inside of your own head and trailed your way towards him. You were still contemplating if you wanted to talk to him, but the very least you could do was to appear next to him and give the chance.

‘Know you are there.’ There went your element of surprise as Noa brought his hand back in and rested it against his chest in a coiled position. He wasn’t just crouching, he was holding himself.

“I---” You stumbled backwards, feet shifting to move your weight but your mind was telling you not to run. To confront. You didn't want to! You wanted to leave it alone, you didn't want to… To… Have to see his face. “I’m sorry, I didn't know you’d be up here, I just needed to---”

“Think.”

Swallowing softly, you planted yourself behind him, only a few feet and looked at the water that was so enviously caressing his hand. Looking down at your own palm, you felt it tingle with want… You wanted to be that water and freely float yourself against him in some bid to calm, ease… Love… “Yeah…” That was spit from your mouth so softly, almost afraid that Noa wouldn’t be able to hear. He didn't turn to face you so you figured that he did in fact hear and was either waiting for silence to fall over the two of you again or for you to say something else. He waited.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ Tag List: @ohwaitimthewriter @saturnnie-03 @hera-annwn @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @callsignwindow @moonchild1433 @kaenalsha @whamsworld @yummyfant @unsteady-bitch @twinspineout

( Sorry if tumblr is a jerk and doesn't tag properly. It does that sometimes I've noticed. )

[lxkeee]

I'M IN THE WIND, YOU'RE IN THE WATER

PART TWO

-Angel! Lucifer Morningstar x Mermaid! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Fanfiction/Romance with slight angst

Synopsis: what if there are other supernatural beings that existed alongside angels?

Notes: If only I wasn't lazy in making my titles have ombre colors I would've had pretty colorful titles rn>:(

PART ONE | PART THREE

It has been a few days since the two immortal beings of different kinds met, Lucifer and [y/n]'s friendship bloomed. Occasionally spending time by the island and getting to know each other better, at the very same shore where [y/n] had dragged Lucifer to save him from drowning. Sometimes the two liked exploring the area around the island, Lucifer flies gracefully against the wind while [y/n] swam beautifully in the water, just like now.

Large and majestic white wings spread out behind his back, flapping to keep himself in the air. The golden rays of the sun caressing his skin, his blue eyes squinting against its harsh rays, a grin plastered on his face as he performed tricks in the air—twirling and diving, truly astonishing to watch as [y/n] admired him as she swam underneath the cold dark waters, the cold waters of the sea hugging her form, her large majestic tail swaying against the strong currents and allowed her to keep up with him. The water runs against her scales, caressing her skin.

Raising her arm up, allowing it to break past the surface of the water. The water currents hitting her arm as she reaches up to the angel flying above her.

Lucifer's eyes gleam, a grin forming on his face as he looks down on the water, his form reflected on the clear and crystal blue waters, he could see his friend's majestic form underneath, swimming to catch up to him.

Without hesitation, he reaches towards her—extending his arm and allowing his warm hand to intertwine with her cold ones. His soft hands against her round ones, their hands a perfect fit like it was made for the other to fill the gaps. His light blond locks fluttered against the wind, it was neat and tidy but now it's messy from the strong winds. [Y/n] laughs underneath the water as she sees how messy his hair is but despite the mess, he still looks beautiful to her. Blue eyes focus in front of him, his tongue sticking out in the process, a small smile on his face. Majestic, absolutely divine. Her eyes dilated as she admired him.

Reluctantly, she slowly removed her hand away from his—this caused the angel to pout slightly, he genuinely enjoyed holding her hand. With a soft sigh and a small smile on his face, he opts to let his hand run against the current, feeling the coldness of the ocean against his skin. Thoroughly enjoying the sensation of her home against his hand.

Lucifer smiled softly, eyes half-lidded and dilated as he looked at her majestic form swimming underneath the crystal like waters. Her hair swayed against the currents of the water but still looked so silky and soft.

No words needed to exchange between them, this is enough.

Eventually, things have to end. The two returned to the shore. Lucifer helping her, of course. They didn't notice how much time had passed, finally realizing how much time they spent just flying and swimming around and having fun. They sat beside each other, gazing at the horizon and admiring the setting sun. Pink, orange, red, yellows, and blues painted the skies, stars beginning to be visible, birds flying over the clouds and towards the horizon.

The sounds of the waves and the sounds of the birds chirping fills their ears.

They remained quiet, sitting side by side. Her hands support her body as she planted them on the sandy grounds of the shore, his hands on the hand is placed on top of his knees. Lucifer tilted his head to look at her, admiring how the sunset is reflected through her eyes, the rays highlighting her eyelashes. Beautiful, he thought to himself, unaware how much his eyes dilated the moment he gazed at her.

His eyes lowered to see their hands just so close to each other.

Without thinking, he moved his hand and placed it on top of hers.

[Y/n] flinches slightly from surprise, Lucifer's eyes widened at the reaction, thinking that the physical contact was unwanted. He hesitantly and slowly moved his hand away from hers.

"Don't." She says softly, tilting her head to face him. He loved how her eyes sparkled when she looked at him. [Y/n] smiled softly and decided to remove her away from the sand, wiping the excess sand away from her skin and gently intertwining her hand with his.

Silence, aside from the loud beating of their hearts that only they could hear.

Of course, the other didn't know how much and how hard it was beating against their ribcage.

They shyly gaze away from each other's eyes, pink dusting their cheeks. The two of course, not knowing why their hearts are acting like this or why they feel so incredibly shy.

With courage, [y/n] leans her head against his shoulder. He flinches slightly but eventually calms down. Leaning his head on top hers in return. He could feel his suit getting soak a bit but he doesn't mind, not one bit. Extending his wings, he wrapped it over her shoulder, keeping her warm against the cold ocean winds. [Y/n] smiled softly, snuggling more against his side for warmth.

He's so unbelievably warm, in a comforting way.

“Thank you...” She whispers softly as she snuggled against his side, staring up at him through her eyelashes. He loved the way her eyes looked through her eyelashes, he could see his reflection on them, he could see the stars and galaxies in those [e/c] orbs of hers. A smile found its way to his face.

“It's nothing much, I don't want you getting a cold now.” he says with a small chuckle, the two resumed to staring at the horizon. [Y/n] chuckles softly beside him.

“Me? Getting a cold? I doubt it.” she says playfully and he rolls his eyes teasingly.

“Whatever you say.” he says with a small chuckle. Silence falls on them once more.

Absolute peace, they could get used to this. They wished that time would remain still.

TAGLIST:

@kaurochika @akemika75 @kouyoumarryme @local-mr-frog @myluckymoon @nirvana5874 @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx

[mono-blogs-art]

Pluto - Family, Love, and Forgiveness

A tale of two estranged sisters turns into a who-did-what mystery full of twists and turns. Wrapped up in it is an impossible sapphic love story where no one gets away without being hurt. "Pluto" is beautiful, heart-breaking, and introspective - a character-driven drama that sets a new standard for Thai GL going forward.

Here's my full review, with a short spoiler-free version first and a much longer spoilery part under the cut. I'm sorry - there's just so much to talk about here, and it's impossible to do that without giving away the major twists!

Summary: Overall: 9/10 - I'm gonna need to tweak my scale going forward because of this show, I can't keep giving out such high scores... but this really is the best Thai GL I've watched so far. By a significant margin. Genre: Family Drama, Romance Watch if you are looking for... : complex familial relationships, a bonkers story that somehow works and takes its time to explore characters and their complicated feelings Watch out for... : homophobia from family, assault, a main character is blind and a minor character is in a wheelchair and the series doesn't consistently handle those topics well Length: 12 episodes averaging about 55 minutes each Where to watch: GMMTV YouTube channel, whole show is free to watch with subtitles in multiple languages. It's also on streaming service viu if that's available in your country.

"Pluto", full title Pluto: นิทาน ดวงดาว ความรัก (Tales, Stars, Love) is a 2024 Thai drama series based on the novel by the same name by author Chao Planoy, who (in)famously also wrote the novels for GAP, Blank, Affair, and many others in the modern Thai GL genre. It stars Namtan Tipnaree in a double role as twins Ai and Oom, and Film Rachanun as love interest May. The show is GMMTV's second big entry into the GL world after "23.5" earlier this year.

Identical twins Ai and Oom could not be more different: While Ai is a good-for-nothing with no real job, Oom is successful and about to get married to her rich boyfriend. However, on the wedding night, Oom reveals to Ai that she's actually secretly still dating someone else, and asks her twin to impersonate her to break up with her sidepiece. Shocked, Ai refuses, and the two sisters part in strife. When Oom gets into a severe car crash that puts her in a coma, Ai's entire life comes crashing down. In an attempt to fulfill her duties as older sister, she honors Oom's request - only to find out that May, Oom's other lover, is a woman. And a wealthy lawyer at that. And also blind. What happened between her sister and May? Ai can't bring herself to go through with the break-up and keeps impersonating her sister, falling deeper into the lies. And the circumstances of Oom's accident seem more and more suspicious. What exactly happened to Oom on her wedding night? And who the hell is May?

... that was my best attempt at summarizing the first half of episode 1. Yeah. It's a lot.

Pluto is somewhat infamous for being one of the more "problematic" Planoy novels. To say that the adaption process was hard is probably an understatement. Despite all that, what the scriptwriters and director put together in these 12 episodes is - although still clumsy in parts and stumbling over the finish line - an overall loving piece of sapphic media that draws you in and holds you close until the end.

In the past year I've seen quite a bit of Thai GL dramas and oftentimes what was missing for me in the writing was proper care for the characters. Room for the mains to breathe, to show rather than tell us their lives, and let them sit down and process whatever drama they've experienced.

Pluto does this really, really well.

This goes mainly for the twins and May, although most side characters also get space to bloom. It's not perfect and in some parts left me wanting more but the show only has 12 episodes and already needs to fit a lot of twists in those somehow. I'll talk more in depth about specific characters and why I loved them in the spoiler zone.

Snap25, the writers and the director really outdid themselves, judging within the genre conventions. There are still the usual hiccups in the audio department and troubles with color grading (which has been improved for streaming), but Pluto feels, looks, and sounds great.

The show does a lot of beautiful Show Don't Tell and lets the actors' performances and the shot compositions speak for themselves. There's still room to improve but there was a clear intention and art direction behind it.

Namtan Tipnaree as both Oom and Ai is the immediate star and her performance was seriously impressive; from Ai's laid-back coolness and emotional depth to Oom's bitterness and insecurity. Likewise, Film Rachanun is so charming as May - whether it's the troubled, stern May of the past or the warm but mysterious May of the present - you can't help but fall in love with her the same way Ai does. And as we watch the two come together, they have a familiarity and softness building between them that just melts your heart.

The show is well structured and keeps you on your toes as it unveils the mystery at hand piece by piece. Questions that you may have in episode 1 may only get an answer in episode 10 - but they do get answered, and we see things from every perspective until the full picture forms.

There is a lesbian love triangle happening in the background that provides a bit of emotional relief from Ai and May's heavy drama, but it ultimately, unfortunately, feels kind of pointless and unfit to support the main narrative. The finale also feels rushed, contrasting the otherwise satisfying pace the show keeps to let its characters breathe, but in my opinion, the show still ties up satisfyingly.

Conclusion:

Pluto is about forgiveness - both seeking it for yourself, and giving it to people who've hurt you. Every character hurts or lies to someone, often to devastating results, but it's almost always to protect someone in some way. It's a tragedy that makes you feel for every character in this web of deceit.

It's about family, or the lack thereof, and how the scars from that shape you as an adult. All main characters yearn desperately for love, a love that's unconditional, and we watch them struggle and fall in the pursuit of it.

I loved Pluto, and although there's a full essay waiting for you under this cut, there are still many more things I could talk about, both positively and critically. But there's no denying that it moved me in a way I'd been craving from this genre for a long time. And I hope to feel that again. Until then, I must subject all of you to it - so go watch it! Now! And say Hi to my best friend Ai-oon for me!!

Thanks for reading - now it's time for spoilers!!

Character Focus - now with full spoilers!

As previously mentioned, one of my favorite things about the show is how lovingly it treats its characters, so let me just tell you about some of my highlights.

Grandma Duean fulfills the adversarial parent role in the show and characters of that type almost never get to be a full character in this genre. So imagine my surprise when she’s actually allowed to have complex feelings about her two grandchildren, her legacy, her family pride and traditions. It’s like I’m asking for the bare minimum and being surprised to actually get a full meal consisting of an interesting old woman in a show revolving mostly around a bunch of dysfunctional 20-somethings.

Speaking of which, I couldn’t leave this review without raving about my best friend in the whole world, Ai-oon. Easily snatching the top spot of favorite protagonists of the GL genre for now, Ai is relatable, endearing, and just having the worst fucking time of her life. The whole show doesn’t work unless you can sell that Ai would care to do anything for her sister - and later on for May. So we get Ai, who feels guilty about what her grandmother sacrificed for her and the situation she and her sister are stuck in. Ai, who’s so desperate for love and affection because she grew up believing herself to be the family disappointment from the get-go. And then; May, who is so willing to give that affection and does it immediately upon meeting Ai - not just because touching is one of her primary ways to get around in the world, but also because she genuinely cares for her. Ai is completely overwhelmed with the amount of care that suddenly falls into her lap and succumbs to it. She has no other choice but to impersonate Oom and to defend May, not just because she feels bad for May, but also because she can’t resist her selfish wish of being loved so unconditionally.

And that brings us finally to May. The show needs to sell us that May has a really, really good reason to believe Ai’s lies, otherwise the entire plot falls apart - while at the same time letting us feel that there’s something more behind that. She’s just sort of cute and quirky at first, but episode by episode we peel back the layers to reveal May’s true intention. May falling for Ai’s deceit is the central element that holds Pluto together, and as we learn about the whole backstory things click into place. At her core, May is vulnerable and her walls are so thick that she’s become calculating, bordering on manipulative, and desperate. She needs someone to prove themselves before letting them in, and letting in and being truly loved is all she wants. And oh girl, she puts Ai to the test. On the other hand, May is strong and genuinely kind, a philanthropist who wants to use some of the privilege she was born with to help others. As we learn that it was actually May who’s been deceiving Ai all this time, her lies and searching for that girl that was nice to her just because all these years ago, fully expose a complex woman stuck in constant conflict. She’s a multi-layered character that crawled her way into my heart despite all of the shit she does, and the story manages to center her tender heart enough for it all to hold together. And for that, I applaud it.

Although Oom is absent for most of the series at first, she gets to shine in the later half. She’s Ai’s foil, sharing her insecurities but translating them the opposite way. While Ai is a self-destructive altruist, Oom is prideful, petty and manipulative. She’s the major “villain” of this story, the central antagonist standing in between May and Ai, although that flattens her character in a way she doesn’t deserve. When she wakes up to threaten our two mains’ relationship, I actually really liked Oom. The show does a great job of showing us her conflict of heart between May and Paul, and always feeling lesser than her sister, but desiring nothing more than to be loved by Ai. Oom gets to grieve and despair and although it’s ugly, it feels real and touching. Her PTSD gets handled semi-well in the show and sort of hand-waved away in the finale, but ultimately Oom gets to be a full character driving her own life forward, rather than just a spiteful obstacle, and I loved that.

Family Before All:

The strongest part of Pluto is the relationship between the twins, and between the twins and Grandma Duean. That to me is the heart of the show. It’s the connecting piece that makes all make sense - why Ai and Oom do what they do. They grew up without their parents with only their poor grandma to take care of them, and still she provided them with all they needed and then some. But there’s also misery festering because Ai is street-smart while Oom is booksmart - and both of them think the other one is grandma’s favorite. They do things for each other in silence because they can’t properly communicate, but still care for each other. They both keep secrets from their grandma so as to not upset her. But in between it all are moments of warmth, cuddling, eating food and joking together. And at the end of the day, all three of them are given the time to look back at what they did and process their feelings. There are many quiet moments where Ai is allowed to just sit and cry, for herself, for her sister, for what cards she’s been dealt. And I really loved that.

On the contrary, May’s family is cold and manipulative. And also filthy rich. She’s an only child with an abusive father and a mother who can’t say no to him, and her upbringing was loveless. It contrasts nicely with Ai and Oom’s warm family and explains a lot of why May becomes desperate for a love that’s truly unconditional as an adult. Unlike Ai, she cares little about her family and tries to be as independent as possible. She’s s been manipulated, blackmailed, and alienated for being a lesbian. But even then her feelings are complicated, and when she suspects something may have happened to her parents she immediately seeks them out. In the end, she can’t bring herself to not care at all. When her father eventually seeks her forgiveness and offers reconciliation, she’s confused - but accepts him. May’s kindness and ability to forgive others is tied to her arc of learning to forgive herself.

Forgiveness and Atonement:

Seeking forgiveness and atonement for your sins are the driving forces behind the characters actions. Ai seeks forgiveness for being a useless granddaughter and older sister, and later also for unintentionally causing May’s assault. May seeks forgiveness for letting herself be blackmailed into defending Batman to win his case, which led to Ben’s family losing their money and his mother to commit suicide, ruining two innocent lives. Oom believes she was the cause of their parents deaths, a debt so huge she can’t even talk to her sister about it and that makes her desperate for validation and stability. And Grandma, who believes she failed to raise the twins and is the cause of all their pain, eventually realizes she unintentionally fueled the rivalry between them that destroyed their relationship. Even minor characters like May’s father or Kosol’s stories end in seeking forgiveness.

Letting your pain go and forgive someone is incredibly hard. At the climax, Ai can’t let her heart win over her responsibility to her family, and she sides with Oom over May. She has to. And May, even if it destroys her, understands. It takes a whole year of therapy for Oom to let go and accept her new life, to rebuild her relationship with her family and most importantly herself after the accident. Only then is she finally able to let May go - and let Ai be with her. At Ai and May’s wedding, Oom is there because she’s family, despite everything. Pluto shows the characters’ quests for atonement as well as their struggles to forgive others beautifully and with a lot of heart, and it feels like the characters deserve the spots they end up on.

Missed Opportunities, But a Step in the Right Direction:

Pluto also falters, especially towards the end. While I think that episode 10 & 11 are the highlights of the series, episode 12 (the finale) is the weakest by a landslide. May seems to, at least partially, see her assault and her resulting blindness from it as karmic punishment for her mistakes. May’s father does a complete 180 with no build-up after the time jump in the finale and is suddenly trying to rebuild the relationship with his daughter - and Ai-oon, who he even explicitly accepts to take care of May in his stead. Although Oom’s journey is wonderful, the time jump is so sudden and the finale so badly paced overall that it lands shakily. And I don’t even know what to say about the Pim-Jan-Pang love triangle. I’ll admit that I wasn’t really invested at first, but it built up nicely and climaxed in a super interesting confrontation with a three-way kiss - and then in the finale we just don’t address that complexity again. Jan and Pang are just together because they realized that those feelings were the most stable. I’m not saying that this is unrealistic or even bad in-universe, I’m just saying that as a viewer with the way it was presented to me it was frankly boring.

Now, all of this was to reiterate my previous point, which is that Pluto as a source material is just a mess. Disabilities are used as plot devices, character relationships are built on flimsy deceits that only make sense if everyone involved swallows a bunch of stupid pills, and queerness in itself is not really addressed unless it’s characters being homophobic. It’s a fantasy world that’s really fucking hard to pin back down to reality.

But on God, they tried and did it, and I’ll forgive them for a lot of the fumbles along the way because as a whole, this show is good.

No wonder it took the writers so long to finish the script after the project’s announcement in 2023. There was near silence about the project until a month before it was set to premiere, and comparing the final trailer to the pilot already showed that it had done leaps in development. Not only did the project suddenly have an art direction, we also got the character focus and emotional depth it desperately needed. And on top of that, over the 1+ year development the leads had built up an incredible chemistry that just makes you fall in love with Ai-oon and May’s relationship. And it paid off, because while Pluto was barely starting out, Namtan and Film were already announced to be continuing their on-screen partnership for the big ensemble GL “Girl Rules”. I hope that they continue to put focus and care into this genre, because with 23.5 and Pluto they’ve really put out two of the best lesbian series of 2024. In my opinion!

I’m very, very excited to see how this show will shape the future of Thai GL, or at least set the standard for future GMMTV shows.

Thank you for reading - I’m truly passionate about this show and I hope to see more of Namtan & Film’s new project(s?) very soon. Cheers!

^ me smooching your little nose for having read all that <3

[theresattrpgforthat]

Mint Plays Games: The Wildsea

I spent the month of April (and a little bit of May) playing a game of The Wildsea as part of our Planedawn Orphans meta-campaign series. The Wildsea is the brainchild of Felix Isaacs, and published under Myth-Works, and it’s had such a successful crowdfunding experience that it’s got a number of special scenarios, expansions and game accessories for the dedicated collector. I have access to the original game, as well as the Storm & Root expansion, but most of what we used was just from the original game.

The Wildsea was chosen to represent the “Earth” element from the checklist in Planedawn Orphans, this time targeting a relic titled “The Titan’s Throne.” Once again, we had a few folks who signed up to play as their Planedawn Orphans characters, and a few people who just signed up to play The Wildsea.

Once again, the setting and character creation was very very fun, and in this case, I think it might have been my favourite part of the game, especially when we got to ship creation. I’ve often referenced Forged in the Dark games as a cornerstone for The Wildsea in the past, but the character and ship creation process is, in my opinion, much more time-intensive than many other typical Forged in the Dark games. When you sit down to make a ship, each player has a number of stakes they can spend to ensure that the ship has a component or two that they really want. Our crew decided to build our ship out of the body of a giant lamprey eel, covered with copper scales and complete with a lightning spear built into the tail. We all agreed it would likely be horrifying to look at; and we embraced that horror whole-heartedly.

The rules are very similar to Forged in the Dark, with the added mechanic of a Twist, which makes the generally larger dice pool more interesting; roll two of any number and apart from success or failure, you’re going to have something else interesting happened. However, I feel like the twist mechanic kind of threw my play group off their rhythm, since the narrative kind of had to stop in order to give them time to think of something that they could add to the narrative. This might just be a table issue, as some groups of players might be jumping to add details to the narrative, while others might be more used to looking to the Game Master for guidance.

The game has a lot of interesting set pieces and hints of lore built into its setting, but there’s more prep that I think might be required than I originally thought. There were moments where the freedom of the setting led players down paths that I hadn’t anticipated, and I had to quickly invent NPC’s and setting descriptions that I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve heard about this kind of problem described before about the family of improv-heavy games, of which PbtA and FitD are definitely members, but this was the first time that my sparse notes in terms of locations and NPCs felt like they really bit me in the behind.

Overall my experience with Wildsea was a bit more stilted than I would have liked, but I don’t think I need to lay all of our problems at the game’s feet. Our game group had a big lull in between sessions, and we had to meet in a format that meant that communication was sometimes slowed down or difficult. I definitely want to give this game another go in the future, hopefully with a group that can all meet in the same place, and hopefully with less gaps in between sessions. The biggest takeaway that I have from this game is that Game Masters should definitely look through all of their players’ character sheets and take note of what each character is geared up for and what the players have indicated is interesting to their character arc, because I think the game will connect with your players more if you have designed threats or set-pieces that speak to those abilities.

[nitewrighter]

I had a crazy idea; What if Livewire ended up becoming a Spidey rogue instead of a Superman one, and as the result of one of Peter's experiments at S.T.A.R Labs going wrong? Get a little bit of that Spectacular Spider-Man style Electro origin, but still largely keeping that "Jerk turned Supervillain by complete happenstance" origin inherent to most interpretations of her character?

Honestly, just how many DC villains and villainesses could reasonably work as Rogue transplants, assuming we don't also decide to transplant some of his more iconic villains as well? I feel like plenty of Flash rogues fit his vibes, but at the same time, I feel like he can also handle some considerably grittier DC villains.

On the flipside, who among Spidey's own Rogues from Marvel would make for decent antagonists for what DC heroes?

Sorry this has languished in my inbox for so long!!!

I mean like, at the end of the day, the big differences between Marvel and DC in terms of the development of their rogues and their respective relationships to their heroes lies in that whole, "DC started before WWII and that heavily influenced its heroes and Marvel wasn't really major competition until the Lee-Kirby double whammy in the 60's" timeline thing I've mentioned in other asks. But like, as both of their continuities have been done and re-done, and as both publishers have swapped artists and writers over the years (Hi, Jack Kirby, Hi, Walt Simonson, Hi, Ram V) you've had like... less and less of an... I guess ideological/narrative gap between the two titles? I mean in theory you could slap any villain with any hero with the right writer. Heroes always represent an aspect of ourselves we want to root for and villains represent an aspect of ourselves we want to confront and conquer--once you figure out those core mechanics of the characters and adjust them accordingly to a narrative logic, you can do anything. It's like cooking, really.

That being said, like, Flash villains definitely come to mind in terms of both their campiness and how they've managed to scale up both their threat level and their humanity over the years.

Piper and Trickster: *bickering that is midway between buddy cop-but-evil and old married couple*

Spider-Man: I can come back later. Do you want me to come back later?

But I also like the Steel Family monsters of the Week for Spidey a lot, too. They're often very tech-y and very involved with whatever sciencey nonsense the Irons family is digging into that week. There was this one comic issue, I forget which one, where Natasha was fighting physical manifestations of AI mimicking internet trolls, and that just seems like something delightful for Spidey to deal with.

...I'd like to see Wonder Woman fight Doctor Doom--I dunno if that seems random, but just on a vibes level that really works for me.

As for Spidey's rogues--I mean I'm going to be honest, I've never been very impressed/attached to most of Spidey's rogues--I have a soft spot for Green Goblin, but that's because I was 10 when the first Tobey Maguire Spider-Man came out. That being said, Spidey's rogues gallery could be a great recurring villain cast for the Teen Titans. I feel like the Teen Titans often get too much space to be smartasses with their villains--there is a certain narrative scrappiness to Spider-Man villains that could work out really well--if they make the threat environmental as well as villainous. I mean like, "Raven, you don't have time to psychically lobotomize this guy, you gotta quell the crowd so people don't get trampled" sort of stuff. Scale up the environmental threat of Spidey's villains and you could have some really spectacular Teen Titans group fights.

[bunnakit]

I promised ages ago that I would remake this post with some easier to read text and properly put the text in a post, and 3 months later I finally did it!

Just a reminder, this is all my own observations, research, opinions, etc. We only have 2 examples of the Zonai to base things off of, which means we have to draw a lot of assumptions and fill in a lot of gaps. There's no wrong way to engage with their lore, create an OC, etc. This is just a breakdown of what I've noticed, looked up, pondered, and the process I used to make my own Zonai~

Something I think is important to note (and keep forgetting to mention) is I named Vasru using the naming conventions we can easily discern - Mineru and Rauru both end in 'ru' but it's unknown if this is a title, family naming convention, or simply something applied to all Zonai.

-

Long neck, arms, and torso but relatively short legs by comparison. Wide hips with very narrow waist seems consistent between AMAB and AFAB but unknown if racial or familial trait.

Rauru has small horns, unknown if Mineru does as well as we never see beneath her mask. Unknown if horns are a sexually dimorphic trait or individual trait.

Floppy vs upright ears are potentially a sexually dimorphic trait but could also differ per individual.

Shared center eye, nose, and eye markings. Unknown if racial or familial.

Hair, ear, and eyelashes all same color. Unknown if white hair is racial or familial.

There seems to be a penchant for jewelry and adornments.

Unknown if limited to royal family. Shows heavy Mayan influence and often features nods to the Triforce, Sheikah Eye, and dragons.

Rauru features a tuft of scale-like fur on his chin and cheeks, only cheek fur is shared with Mineru. Chin fur is likely a sexually dimorphic trait.

Sexual Dimorphism - A distinct difference in size or appearance between the sexes of an animal in addition to difference between sexual organs themselves.

-

Draconification is known to be achieved through swallowing a secret stone.

The Zonai and the dragons share many physical characteristics such as horns, ear, and eye structure. In an excerpt from 'Creating a Champion' we learn the dragons do have some goat-like features intentionally.

The existence of the 3 dragon-themed armor sets along with repeated dragon structures in Zonai ruins could imply that Dinraal, Farosh, and Naydra already existed in the time of the Zonai.

It's important to note as well that the Zonai were often seen as Gods from the heavens. With this and the obvious connection the 3 dragons have to the 3 Goddesses from previous games (Din, Farore, and Nayru) I don't think it's out of the realm of possibility that perhaps Dinraal, Farosh, and Naydra were Zonai tasked with protecting Tri-Force (which the Zonai were known to worship) and in an effort to better guard the Tri-Force they swallowed each piece and underwent the process of draconification. The shared names, elements, and corresponding Tri-Force pieces just make this thought process very interesting to me.

-

When designing my own Zonai OC (Vasru) I was very careful to pull as many details from the game as I could. In an effort to keep his design from being too busy I simplified some elements of the various armors and jewelry.

Vasru is transgender and to represent this I took the markings from the Ancient Armor (the reward for finding all shrines) and used them beneath his pectorals.

If we operate under the assumption that horns are a sexually dimorphic trait we can then assume Vas'use of the Dinraal inspired headdress is in an effort to cover that missing feature.

When designing a Zonai I believe it's important to take inspiration from elements of the game and respect the Mayan influences shown.

Have fun!

[autumnalwalker]

A Dream About False Priests

A woman long since lapsed from her faith dons the vestments of this land's priests.  It is not like what she's used to, but she admits she cuts a striking figure.  One of her companions calls her "Prior" and she feels nostalgia at the old title.  It carries a certain gravitas of authority that she's fond of.

Together, they take a car and circle around the grand cathedral in the middle of the city.  Around the back corner, and out of sight in the narrow gap between the place of worship and a parking garage.  They ascend the garage and make the impossible floating leap to the top of the cathedral where they slip in through an upper window.

Inside is a great vaulted space of light and air.  Their approach would be terribly unstealthy if only anyone thought to look up.  No one ever looks up.

The service is ending when they arrive.  Once the last faithful stragglers clear out, the party descends to find their target, the middle-aged priest who had been leading the sermon.  They find him in a red-capretted side hallway, pushing an elder member of the clergy in a wheelchair.

They wait for the old man to safely get out of the way, deposited in a room and then attack the priest without warning.  Blades of light, conjured ice spikes, and a thrown chair that separates into a hail of splinters all collide against a holy shield.

“You would dare assault a priest in the house of the Lord?!” the outraged-but-unharmed target demands.

The Prior smirks.  “You and I both know this isn’t your Lord’s house any more than it is mine," she says.  "I’ve seen the thing you keep in the basement, bleeding it dry to paint the halls with runes.”

The battle ensues.  The Prior tells her companions to disperse and take care of their other objectives, leaving her to duel the priest.  The hallowed halls fill with golden fire, shining swords, chiming bells, angelic feathers, gleaming aegises, and all the other trappings that the people of this land associate with divine power unleashed in smiting justice.  The Prior and the priest, it seems, are evenly matched.

Seeking to tip the scales, the priest chants a new, more ancient invocation in a different tongue, summoning hungry crimson flames to devour his foe.  For a moment the Prior is consumed in a hell of fire, and then a strange wind snuffs the old flames like a candle.

The singed Prior cracks her neck and wipes blood from her lips with the back of her hand.  Charred scabs fall away, leaving behind new, unblemished skin.

"So I guess we're finally going full mask off, huh?  Fine.  Two can play at that game."

A sharp green light appears in her right hand.  She points and the light leaps towards the priest, striking him and inundating him with -

"Healing magic?" the priest asks incredulously as the few cuts and bruises he's suffered in this duel fade before the Prior's eyes.

"It's something no one configures their barriers to keep out," she says.  "And why would they?"  Her stance is relaxed now, her voice increasingly smug with every word.  The tone of one who knows she's already won and is all to happy to explain why.  "But the thing about healing is that it's ultimately just cell division."

She raises a finger and a mote of green light appears above it.  The mote splits into two, and then four, and then eight.

The priest tries to speak but doubles over in a sudden cramp.

"Amplify that enough, let it run wild, and that's how cancer works."

The priest lets out a wheezing gasp.  There is a lump in his throat.

"Take that to an even further extreme, and, well…"

By the time the Prior's companions return, an insensate lumpy blob of flesh fills the hallway.

"I've been meaning to ask," one of them brings up later, "how do you still have power?  I thought you said you lost your faith a long time ago."

The woman who was once a Prior makes a toothsome grin. "I still believe in something."

"What?"

"Control.  Power itself.  Me." 

[edge-oftheworld]

thinking about the way when i interact with fellow aussies on here I see so much disappointment about how they didn't come here on their last tour. how sydney 5sos fans are a different brand of human i'm not really sure how to describe (we all freaked out when we went to the same concert lauren was at for example). thinking about how the australian leg of take my hand tour felt like it was almost its own thing, sandwiched between the gap after the bulk of the tour before it and that short gap before they announced the most recent tour after it--almost as if it was meant to bridge both of those tours. how they played in newcastle and on the gold coast and it wasn't quite cairns or coffs but it was a bit more than your state capitals headline tour. how, with the exception of the big four, we often don't realise how small our cities are on a global scale. there are only 27 million of us on this desert island.

thinking about how they wrote easy for you to say and had to perform it on tour six months before its actual release, it was so important to this setlist, to the vibe, and how it's about nostalgia and missing sydney and they finished the tour in sydney and it makes me wonder, i can kind of guess when the song means the same thing to me, how much it hurts to be able to perform here and yet not be able to stay for longer than a holiday. and yet they do do that for us, put on shows about as regularly as any other artist does. even if they didn't play splendour in the grass. or falls festival. even if it's been four years since fire fight australia, it was only months ago sierra was promoting beyond blue as a charity to donate to. friends of friends did some fundraiser for a youth centre in blacktown: maybe I have to look to see it, but I can see the impact they've left.

and then I see how happy they all seem to look when they've gotten a chance to hang out in australia. ashton covering songs in the heat. calum obviously having a blast. luke dropping sydney pics that were assumedly from before it got really hot, looking carefree, a familiar skyline and familiar urban graffiti. the way when michael arrived in perth for the first time after lockdown he simply had to tell us all right away. and i've always kind of seen them coming back here for good? heck, joel madden even assumed right on his podcast some of them might have already. the way ashton doesn't have a dog in the states, and how i've always seen him with an aussie. the way luke integrates seamlessly into the life and culture of the inner west area; and calum carries blue mountains vibes with him wherever he goes, as michael does with the sydney pop punk scene. we know brandy and sierra at least love australia--i was actually fangirling about sierra in their comments with the veronicas just the other day (bless them for deciding my comment was something that needed to replying to). while crystal does have a massive group of usamerican friends and family I can see her enjoying the vegan places in melbourne and brisbane (they're coming to sydney too. the inner west and parts of the north side are almost there) and maybe being a little more hopeful about politics. I can also see it being a really healthy place to raise lua.

maybe it's the hopefulness of an urban designer who sees the impact of art and culture and having people around who create for a living on our cities, but maybe I see myself in 20 years bringing my kids to see them play and being able to tell the story of a series of songs (red desert, efyts, whatever is next in the theme in the works for 5sos6 as well as the solo stuff like a lot of wfttwtaf and boy) and how they figured out what we all have to, how to find and create a place that's home to you--because it's actually a pretty likely event. and i love seeing the evolution from the 'let's get out' / 'worked every weekend just to get out of town' vibe of self titled and sgfg to now. I really do want them all to feel like they can relax now after so many years of working and depriving themselves of the love that comes from belonging (I do feel like we've heard more about it from luke and ash specifically) and I also get the subtle vibes of where that might happen. and how much it might hurt when they don't get to have that. what did they do for aussies? gave us hope that we could make it, in whatever we want to do and whatever success means for us. maybe it's just me though. for now. maybe i've got the expectations of someone who grew up unable to afford things like concerts mixed with the anticipation for this june. I hope i'm not projecting, but also, the empathy I feel when I see myself in someone is usually spot on.

so idk. one day i'm gonna design some really classy public housing made to unfuck the status quo and i'm gonna raise money to build it and sierra will write a song and say she's doing a donation to this charity in australia doing things about homelessness and the class divide and it's gonna help me fund it. that's just one option of something i can see going down that's not completely unrealistic if very very optimistic but it's how i live my life. but i'll go to a 5sos concert eventually. i'll play their songs i've arranged with an orchestra one day too and we'll do it impressively, noticeably. i don't really know what else i'm supposed to expect? I know my experience is worlds away from many people's. but these guys inspire me to create and I don't really need anything else to do that.

[alexandriaisburning]

045: Gundam Extreme Vs Force

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The first North American release in Bandai Namco’s Gundam Extreme Vs. series, Gundam Extreme Versus Force was a bizarre introduction for English speaking fans of the series. A Vita spin-off of a massively popular arcade fighter, it brough zero context with it to understand the underlying mechanics, and changed enough about the format to disappoint the small group of Extreme Vs. die-hards that had been waiting for an English release. 

Vs. Force was the first release in the series since early Gundam Vs. titles such as Federation vs. Zeon and Gundam vs. Zeta Gundam, titles from when the series was still developed under Capcom, before the dramatic shift in direction of the Extreme Vs. series. Under Bandai Namco, the series dramatically increased in speed, with a focus on a 2v2 team format, with a high technical skill ceiling, and a large amount of tactical considerations thanks to its massive roster of playable mobile suits. 

The sheer popularity of the series created many imitators, including some from Byking, former Capcom developers who developed earlier entries in the series. A few of these would be localize, but all nuances were likewise lost on the Western audience, who often dismissed them immediately without the Gundam Versus series to contextualize them. 

Key to the Extreme Vs. series is the use of boost, which is used not only to enable fast movement, but can cancel the recovery of various attacks, allowing you to chain moves together smoothly. Otherwise lengthy attack animations can be chained together to pull off rapid fire barrages, or to perform tricky mixups that rapidly shift direction and attack type. 

Once you understand that Extreme Vs. is at its core a fighting game, a lot of the otherwise strange mechanics make sense, such as the mandatory lock on, the restricted attack ranges and homing properties, and the forced knockdowns which prevent lengthy combos and force a reset to neutral. 

Extreme Vs. Force takes all of these existing mechanics and attaches it to what’s essentially a stripped down MOBA, placing its already niche appeal inside another niche. 

Most stages in the campaign take place using this “Force Battle” format, giving you up to 4 teams of 2, and asking you to attack and defend bases. Each base allows enemy squads to spawn from them, as well as Minions, low level enemies that bolster their forces. The base themselves can attack as well, giving it a dynamic not unlike the Tower and Creep mechanics of MOBAs. Killing enemies gives you Force Points, which can be used to activate team tactics that boost stats, revive teams or can be saved up for super attacks. The large scale details are simplified compared to a proper MOBA, but alongside the expansive roster full of unique movesets, it leaves a lot of variables to explore. 

When it comes together, Vs. Force sells the feeling of participating in a large scale conflict. Massive units and warships tower over the field, with a scattering of minions and mobile suits of different performance levels. Machines in Extreme Versus Force are intentionally unbalanced as part of the team building aspect, so the gaps in power naturally sell the difference in military might between the factions. 

The framing narrative achieves none of that. Framed as two AI navigators on a tour of the events of the Universal Century, it’s bogged down with the same empty beats as many Gundam crossover games, with dialogue whose whole purpose seems to be getting the voice actresses in the booth for the maximum amount of time, rather than delivering any meaningful narrative of character development. 

And while the campaign does an admirable job of delivering on its hybrid approach, as it goes on it becomes clear that the most effective strategy is a defensive one, leaving most of your team behind to defend your base, rather than risking a proactive attack. Your teammates are often outmatched in most situations, leaving you as the vanguard for capturing points, without their support. Any other approach generally ends with your base being destroyed before you can stifle the enemy approach. 

This could possibly be remedied by multiplayer, but strangely for both the Extreme Versus series and a portable game, there’s nearly no multiplayer options. Force Battles can’t be played online or ad-hoc, leaving only a post release 1v1 mode with supporting AI partners as your sole option. 

With the right primer and infrastructure, Versus Force could have presented a legitimately compelling alternative playstyle for the Versus series. Instead we got a spin-off of an unfamiliar and complex game, missing the appeal of the larger series, and portable titles. As a standalone piece, it remains compelling, provided you’ve been primed to understand it, but as an introduction to the larger series, it’s a bizarre and mistimed one. 

[mariacallous]

What does it mean to have a middle-class, white-collar professional job?

It used to feel like a promise, a guarantee of a life that might not always run smoothly but would at least be stable, verging sometimes even on smug. It probably meant a mortgage, the kind of job title that made people trust you, and a sense – especially for those who were not born into a middle-class life – of having reached safe harbour. You wouldn’t be rich, but you’d be comfortable. Perhaps just as important, given all success is secretly relative, you would know exactly where you stood: never top of the pile, but at least a reassuringly long way off the bottom. But what happens when those layers start collapsing into each other?

Earlier this week, the Resolution Foundation thinktank released a technical update on the labour market that would probably have gone unnoticed if it hadn’t been published in the slow news days between Christmas and new year. Its authors noted that new graduate salaries have fallen in real terms over the past two decades by about 4% on average, while the minimum wage has risen by 60%.

Though the two lines are still a long way from crossing over, for gen Z and millennials in particular the boundaries between white-collar and blue-collar worlds are getting blurrier.

At first glance, a narrowing of the gap sounds positively healthy. In a more equal society, why wouldn’t the living standards of a barista move closer to those of a barrister? But to put it mildly, what has been happening to the labour market ever since the 2008 crash doesn’t exactly feel like the kind of benign levelling up that brings insecure working-class lives closer to smug middle-class ones, while forcing everyone to shake off snobbish assumptions about which jobs really matter. If anything, it feels more like the opposite: a long levelling down that has seen wages flatlining except where the state actively intervenes to force them up, and precariousness creeping up the income scale instead of security trickling down.

Two decades ago, the median recent graduate starting out in a genuine graduate career could expect to earn two and a half times the minimum wage. Now the premium is only 1.6 times minimum wage for median earners, according to the Resolution Foundation, and the lowest earning graduates are fast approaching parity.

Jobs so hotly desirable that young graduates have to jump through endless hoops and internships just to get a foot in the door – say in publishing, or charity and NGO work, or (let’s be honest) large parts of journalism and other creative industries – offer starting salaries in some cases barely above the £25,000 a year to which a full-time minimum-wage worker waiting tables or stacking shelves could be entitled as of this April. The old glamour and prestige still clings to these careers, but the money? That’s gone, and in some cases it is unlikely to be coming back: not with AI now threatening to gut jobs everywhere from the visual arts to the junior reaches of what were once considered bombproof careers such as accountancy, insurance, law or IT.

The last government’s political response to all of this was mostly to argue about whether fewer teenagers should go to university in future or more of them should do maths, as if the problem were kids wanting the wrong things out of life rather than a stagnant labour market, while ignoring an ominous head of steam building up in the here and now. There is a growing pool of young graduates who faithfully did everything they were told would help them get on in life – working hard at school, getting the grades, slogging through their degrees and sucking up the prospect of years of debt repayments to pay for it – only to realise that they may never be rewarded in the way they were promised. How gen Z reacts to this potentially painful readjustment will help shape the politics of this parliament and beyond.

In his 2023 book End Times, the US academic Peter Turchin identifies “elite overproduction” – essentially an economy creating far more educated, ambitious potential elite members than it has prestigious jobs to offer them – as a key trigger for revolutions and civil wars, especially when combined with deep economic inequality and high public debt. Though from the outside these thwarted alphas still look relatively privileged compared with their peers, it’s the gap between what they think they were promised and what they actually got that breeds explosive levels of resentment. Frustrated wannabe elites can morph into angry counter-elites, turning on the establishment they had originally dreamed of joining when they realise it isn’t actually going to let them in after all. Though populist parties traditionally do best among working-class voters who never went to college, Turchin argues that it’s when these frustrated elites make common political cause with the more genuinely impoverished masses that they are most likely to combine and crush the centre. If Reform UK succeeds in its dream of overtaking the Tories as the main challenger to Labour – the threat increasingly preoccupying Keir Starmer’s government as it heads into what will undoubtedly be a difficult year – then it might be by bringing together such an unlikely coalition of the aggrieved.

You could argue that a young professional uprising seems a remote prospect in a country such as Britain, where frustrated elites are more likely to vent their anger by just going on strike – as junior doctors did last year, protesting that they could be getting a better hourly rate at Pret a Manger – or kicking out a Tory government than anything more revolutionary.

But the idea that political instability often follows when governments make promises they can’t keep is a sound one, and your heart doesn’t have to bleed for disillusioned graduates to worry that something is broken here. Gen Z voting patterns around the world now suggest at the very least a backlash against mainstream parties and craving for more radical ones. Across Europe and the US, young voters are turning to the far right in worrying numbers; in Britain, the Greens on the left and Nigel Farage’s Reform party on the right experienced surging support among the under-30s last summer. This may be the year we find out whether that was in retrospect the high-water mark of the gen Z revolt, or merely the beginning.

[captainderyn]

[Fictober24] Day 11: "Well, that went great."

Prompt: "Well, that went well."

Fandom: LOTRO Pairings: Raenor/Wulfwryn (though romance not featured heavily in this prompt) Warnings: None Spoilers: A Game of Brigand Bashing quest

Summary: Wulfwryn plays a game of Brigand Bashing with the children of Langhold. For the first time in a long time, Raenor seems a glimmer of joy beneath the surface, until duty calls them back once again.

---

The heavy weight that lay across Wulfwryn’s shoulders seemed to lift as she ran across the clearing chased by a hoard of clamoring Rohirrim children. The group had first started by running from her, shrieking and laughing as they’d avoided the plush baton she’d tried to ‘strike’ them with in a game they titled ‘brigand bashing’. 

Now it appeared that Wulfwryn was the brigand, and the children were trying their hardest to bash her. She stumbled to a half as five smacked at her legs in quick succession, raising her hands in surrender. He could not remember a time in recent memory that her smile had been so easy or her laugh so bright as it was right now as she called for a truce. 

The kids, all panting themselves from exertion, willingly collapsed in a circle around Wulfwryn as she eased herself onto a fallen fence beam and leaned her forearms across her knees. 

“Consider me beat, brave warriors.” She said and the children cheered among themselves, exchanging high-fives and pats on the back. If Raenor were to guess, there weren’t many times these days that the group of children in this town had a willing participant in their game. 

The children played like they were planning out a full scale battle. The Thane's daughter already had the air about her of a seasoned warrior, though she herself had never seen combat. 

 That very girl watched Wulfwryn with rapt attention as Wulfwryn launched into an animated story, drawing a map in the dirt with a stick and waving her free hand around. 

Raenor was too far to hear exactly which story she was telling, and did not dare to move closer. Though the children hardly had the same reservations as their parents and elders, they were still uncertain of him as an elf and he didn’t dare ruin their fun. 

The peace was broken moments later as one of the Riders approached. Dala drew his horse up at the edge of the clearing in a rustle of equipment and snorting. 

“I did not realize the folk of Gondor wasted their time on children’s games.” he called by way of greeting. Perhaps there was meant to be a touch of humor in his voice, though it fell flat. “That must be quite the luxury.” 

Wulfwryn’s body seized back all the tension it had momentarily loosed, her shoulders going rigid. 

“Well, that worked out great.” Wulfwryn grumbled, buckling her belt back around her waist. The worry lines between her brows and aside her mouth deepened as she attached first her sword to her belt, then her shield to its guige and slung it across her back. “I try to show the locals we aren’t a threat by entertaining their children with their game and it seems all I’ve done is earn their ire.” 

Raenor watched Dala glower at them from beyond the clearing wall and noted the rapid tapping of his foot. “Uncertainty and tension don’t breed hospitality.” he said, half in agreement and half in placation. It did little, as Wulfwryn followed his gaze and heaved a sigh. 

She tossed her braid over her shoulder, tugging her gloves back on. Though she’d opted against her usual heavy armor for their touch-and-go missions across the Great River and Gap, she still remained prepared to fight at a moments notice. Whatever Dala had tasked with them now, it certainly was not going to be peaceful. 

Raenor fell into step next to her as she made her way towards the guard, “The children were enraptured by your stories.” 

Wulfwryn’s lips tugged up into a tight smile. “I would have loved to tell them more. It is a sad day when children as young as that play in preparation for war.” 

 Dala nodded to them as they got close enough to hear more clearly. The children streamed back into the camp with a flurry of sullen greetings and thank you’s to Dala and Wulfwryn respectively. 

“Adults in this town do not waste time with child-games, Wulfwryn. If you wish to face brigands, it appears a small band of them have returned from exile to harass a local farm. Instead of playing with our idle children, you could perhaps prove yourself useful by dealing with real enemies, eh?” he said and again, the humor did not reach the far reaches of his voice nor did his smile reach his eyes. 

“If that is what you require of us, then we shall gladly do so.” Wulfwryn replied tightly. “I hope the Rohirrim do not always look down on providing their children much needed smiles.” 

Dala’s lips pressed into a thin line and any remaining pretense of humor dropped from his voice. 

“Smiles do not win wars nor keep them safe. I assume you understand this.” 

Wulfwryn set her jaw, eyes stormy. Raenor nudged her, hard, with his shoulder. Such a sharp tongue was unusual for her, though it had been lashing more frequently as of late. 

Her eyes flicked to his then back to Dala and she took a breath, forcing her posture to relax. 

“Of course, tell us what you need of us, and we will return with haste.” 

[batsplat]

Looking ahead to this Sunday’s American GP at Laguna Seca, where Rossi has never won in three previous attempts, the Fiat Yamaha rider told MCN: “In the last races Casey has done a great job and he is very fast and now we have to stay concentrated. “But our situation is a lot more positive than last year. It’s always difficult when you have to follow and you have to race sometimes with not enough speed, but a difficult period for my career was last year. Now I have fun and I like to ride the bike, and in the team we have a good atmosphere to make the best and we hope it is enough. “But the championship is long, and we saw at the start of the season that the Ducati was slower than us. Now it is faster so it is possible to work and to bridge the gap to fight with Stoner and with (Dani) Pedrosa to the last race. Now we suffer a little bit but we have the potential to come back to the top.” Rossi said it was vital he stopped Stoner’s revival, as Laguna is the first in a sequence of three races where Stoner dominated in 2007. Brno and Misano follow Sunday’s 32-lap Laguna Seca showdown and Rossi added: “This moment of the season is difficult for us because we go to three tracks where Stoner last year made some great races, so this is a tough part of the season. But we have a good advantage in the points and quite good speed.”

Valentino Rossi looking to end Casey Stoner's revival

Casey Stoner proved last year that [taming the Ducati] can be done, in emphatic fashion. The Australian ran away with the race last year, Laguna Seca proving a vital stepping stone on his way to the world title. With Stoner's current resurgent form, and with so little time between races for the other teams to respond to his improvement, it would be a foolish person who would bet against a repeat of last year's dominance. Based on the evidence of the past few races, we should know whether Stoner will be stomping all over the competition by about the 4th lap of the 1st session of free practice. At previous tracks, that's how long it's taken Stoner to be on, or over, record pace. If he's that fast on Friday, the race could effectively already be over. The man most capable of preventing that will be under a lot of pressure at Laguna Seca. Valentino Rossi started the season slowly, but by the time he'd won his third race of the season in Mugello, it looked like he could be romping to another triumphant title. Since Barcelona, Stoner has come back with a vengeance, with Rossi so far powerless to respond and forced to settle for 2nd place. Add to this the fact that Laguna Seca is a track where The Doctor has yet to win, and has never been particularly happy at, and you start to see the scale of the challenge ahead of him. Rossi's 5 premier class titles say that this is the sort of challenge that Rossi can handle, but it makes it no less formidable.

2008 Laguna Seca Preview - No Rest

The first session of free practice was very much business as usual at Laguna Seca. Casey Stoner was quickest, though it took him 6 laps to be the fastest man on track this morning, rather than his usual 3. Stoner was running low to mid 1'22s with ease, until he started hitting 1'21s. As a reference: That's nearly 4/10ths of a second faster than the existing pole record, set by Casey Stoner last year at Laguna. Valentino Rossi was the only man who managed to get close, though every time he got anywhere near, Stoner went back out and took another couple of tenths off his best time, opening the gap up to over a second, before Rossi closed it back down again. Chris Vermeulen's form shows that he is still very good here at Laguna Seca, and will be a factor in the race on Sunday.

2008 Laguna Seca FP1 Times Day 1 - Stoner Smashes Pole Record As Usual

Conditions may have been different, but the outcome was exactly the same. Once again, Casey Stoner thoroughly dominated qualifying practice, leading by at least half a second for almost all of the session. He saved the last to best, taking another 0.1 of a second off his track record, set in the morning. Stoner is now 0.466 faster than his own pole record, set in 2007. But he's not just quick for a single lap. Stoner was running constantly in the low 1'22s, about half a second quicker than the next fastest lapper, Valentino Rossi, who was running consistent high 1'22s. At this rate, there's going to be a fantastic battle for 2nd place.

2008 Laguna Seca FP2 Times Day 1 - Stoner Smashes Pole Record Again

1.

Bridgestone, on the other hand, are doing just fine. In every session so far, Casey Stoner took the fastest lap within 5 or 6 laps, and never relinquished the spot at the top of the timesheets. And qualifying practice was no different. On his 4th lap out of the pits, and his 3rd flying lap, Stoner was already under last year's pole record, and was just getting warmed up. After a brief sojourn to the pits, Stoner was back out, and flying. This time, it took him 2 flying laps to smash the pole record, although whether "smash" is a strong enough word to describe taking 7/10ths of a second off last year's pole time is questionable. But if anyone thought that lap was something special, the Australian set them straight. In one of the most intimidating displays of pure, unadulterated speed, Casey Stoner set a run of 7 straight laps of low to mid 1'21 seconds, keeping most of the field well over a second behind him. This was just working at race setup. Stoner wasn't even thinking of taking a qualifying tire yet, and the paddock held its breath at the thought of what would happen once Stoner put soft rubber on his Ducati. It was pretty clear that the battle in qualifying would be the same as the battle in the race. It was just a fight for 2nd place, the pole sitter and race winner - barring the arrival of the four horsemen of the apocalypse - already set in stone. Valentino Rossi was the obvious candidate for the runner-up spot, and was quick right off the mark, but sadly for Rossi, only Greatest-Of-All-Time-quick, not Stoner-quick. Rossi's string of laps chasing a race setup was in itself deeply impressive. A run of 17 laps, 12 of which were low to mid 1'22s. Rossi clearly had race pace, but the question was, would he be able to improve on the mediocre qualifying positions he's had recently.

2.

Nicky Hayden looked like taking the 2nd place on the grid, setting a lap of 1'21.430, but the American lost out to Valentino Rossi in the dying seconds of the session, the Italian setting a blistering lap of 1'21.147. Rossi is clearly very fast at Laguna, but his times tend to pale a little when held up against Stoner's.

3.

This is Casey Stoner's 5th pole in a row, and coming off 3 wins in a row, it's hard to see how he can be stopped from taking his 4th straight win. Valentino Rossi's only hope is that he can get in Stoner's way early in the race, and hope the Australian makes a mistake. At least Rossi is in with a chance of being able to get close to Stoner, starting on the front row.

2008 Laguna Seca QP Report

The Aussie said: “I’ve always kind of enjoyed this track since the first year I came here. We were quite fast straight out of the box in 2006 and you know I’ve always got along with this track quite well. I think because it’s quite different. “It’s not your average kind of circuit. With the ups and down and the bumps and it’s quite a slippery circuit, so it tends to suit my style a little more. “I’m just really happy with the way the whole weekend’s gone. We’ve slowly but surely improved our set-up as the weekend’s gone on and we’ve got to a point now where we’re very happy. We’re confident going into the race.”

Casey Stoner confident of Laguna repeat

Fiat Yamaha rider Rossi though was happy to be on the front row in second place and he said: “For sure it will be very important to make a good start, because now we are on the first row, so it is a good point and a good place to start. “We have to have a good start and after we see what happens, because we have a quite good pace, I’m quite fast but it’s a long race, very difficult for the tyres and also for many riders because this track doesn’t have any moment to relax. “I’m pleased with this result and I think we’ve done a good job today. This morning, even though it was very cold, we were able to make some good steps forward, especially with the suspension setting, and I was able to be quite fast. This afternoon we were able to do a long simulation and this was very important to help us understand how the tyres will be tomorrow. Second place is good for us and I think we’ve done a lot better in the practice this weekend than we have in the last couple of races, so I’m happy about this. “Casey is very fast and I don’t know exactly how to beat him – maybe I need to start 30 seconds earlier! Whatever happens a good start is going to be very important and then I will just try to stay with him and keep pushing.” Rossi has never won at Laguna Seca and he said the target will be to better his previous best result of third back in 2005. He added: “It is not one of my favourite tracks, but when the setting and the tyres work it is a lot more easy compared to the past. And I try to improve my best result, which was third from the first year. I think this year we have the potential to make a good race.”

Valentino Rossi happy to be on front row at Laguna Seca

[ashes-writing-corner]

So I got the main guys of the 141st done, but what about other CoD characters? Do they have dragons? Abso-fucking-lutely! And I'm gonna continue this little series with a recently found favorite and his dragon:

König and Amsel

König

1. König is of course a title. For the sake of this AU his name is Kaleb (I refuse to call him Kilgore because that sounds WAY too extra/on the nose).

2. He is, of course, king of his own kingdom, called Edren, which borders Athana to the north.

3. He became king at fifteen, after his father was killed by an assassin from another kingdom. At the time he was considered too young to rule, but he was a fast learner and took to heart both the words of his advisors and the needs of his people.

4. Kaleb is betrothed to Princess Lyra of Athana, and has been since they were both children. There's a five year age gap between the two, and they alternated visiting each other's kingdoms during the summer months, so as to not interrupt either of their studies, until they were both adults.

5. He does deeply love Lyra, but admits he's jealous of her close connection with the Ghost of Dragon's Keep...

6. Claimed Amsel at the age of seventeen, which actually angered a lot of the common people in Athana, as they saw Amsel "The Black Bird" as their primary protector.

7. Has impeccable aim with a crossbow, on both dragon and horseback.

8. Has been teaching Lyra his language. He's basically like her own version of duolingo.

9. While a good ruler, Kaleb is a jealous man. He sees Simon as competition for his betrothed, and does what he can to keep Lyra from him while he's in Athana.

10. Let's just say hell has no fury like a giant scorned. A giant who also happens to have the second largest dragon in existence at his disposal...

Amsel

1. Known as the Black Bird to the commoners of Athana, Amsel is the second largest dragon in the known world. Only his mother Nova is bigger than him.

2. Is the brother of Lyra's dragon, Talaera. The two were nest mates and are still close. Their riders are betrothed but that doesn't mean they'll mate. Dragons are cool, but incest isn't, even among them.

3. His scales are a deep purple that they look almost black, hence the name Black Bird. His flames are deep violet with veins of black and red.

4. He can eat cattle and other livestock whole, and often does. This actually angers a lot of the farmers in Edren, who've been calling for Amsel to be locked up.

5. Is protective of his sister and family, as well as his Rider. Amsel has a relatively nasty temper towards anyone who dares to think of harming them.

6. Amsel tolerates humans. He doesn't necessarily like them, but he tries not to harm them either. They're like insects to him: sometimes fascinating, other times a pest.

7. Refuses to wear a saddle as he finds them binding. Also has a deep hatred of chains. Do not bring a chain anywhere near Amsel, as he will melt it.

8. Like his Rider sees Simon, Amsel sees Brightfire as a threat rather than competition. He believes Talaera deserves better, but Tala is stubborn in that regard.

9. He has defective muscles in his throat, so rather than roaring he screeches. His voice is a little higher pitched than one would expect (kinda like his Rider...).

10. Has no desire to be used as a weapon to hurt people, fearing he'll become as notorious as his father, Daharak the Hellborn, who is now seen as a force of evil.

And that's it for these two! I really hope you guys liked it! I have a few more characters for this AU already made (Laswell, Graves, and, because I actually do love her, Farrah). I don't know if I'll do anyone else from the game after that. If the interest is there I might take suggestions and include others in this AU. I'd like to incorporate Alejandro and Rudolfo, possibly even Valeria and even Makarov into this at some point. Let me know what you guys think!