#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.”

[death---dealer]

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

[boundinparchment]

Let’s Fall Silent

He was created as a companion to a capricious dawn; rejected, he haunted the waters of Snezhnaya until he grew bored. Saved by a foolish inventor, he wonders if there is more to life than his rejected purpose.

Or: whatever happened to that merman Dottore segment?

Sequel to my fic, “Endless.”

RATING EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI. ON AO3 HERE.

Water rushed through his gills and oxygen flooded his system in steady, rolling waves.  He didn’t need to breathe but yet his body seemed perfectly suited to do so, yearned to.

He looked down, the shining blue scales of his tail resembling stones he knew only in name and vague understanding.  Knowledge that was not his but readily given, as if he’d already read ten thousand books.  Webs between his fingers were gossamer thin and yet seemed to catch and push water as if made of the strongest steel blades.  

His fingers looked as if he’d dipped them in the reflections of the night sky, scales shimmering and shifting with the light.  

There was a weight on his right ear, a glass tube that seemed to contain a type of water.  Touching it sent faint shockwaves through his fingers and head, voices echoing distantly.

He assessed his surroundings: a tall man with blue hair and a white coat, eyes hidden; a clear boundary between them; a flicker of sunset out of the corner of his eye.  The creature titled its head, the fins on either side of his head flitting with the motion.  

Creator.  Right.  His image was almost identical to the bipedal human before him.  Intended for…

He turned his head, garnet eyes falling in the direction he felt another presence.

A flash of a memory—not his—told him everything.

Rejected without ever having a chance.  The dawn would kill him for carrying out his purpose if he ever so much as approached her.  Understandably so.  Sensations welled up inside him, foreign and intruded upon, not his to feel.  Although the man on the other side of the glass (yes, that was the word) had made him, he was nothing but a vessel for wish-fulfillment.  A bridge built to cross a too-large gap.

His Creator was a curious man.  Whether he wanted to see the dawn’s reaction to the addition to her tank or because he was too far along in the process to stop didn’t matter to the finned mirror image.  The result was the same.  The merman was awake and contained every awareness that already, the tides had changed. 

An existential crisis was not on the agenda.  There was still plenty more to do.  An entire world outside of this tank.  The dawn came from somewhere, of course, and water was the necessity for all life.

He swam, gauged how far to move his arms and the proper movements of his tail.  Easy, fluid motions that allowed him to cut through water came from somewhere deeper than muscle memory.  Base instinct left little room for error.

“Our observation time is short, Nadir.  How do you feel?” 

The voice did not vibrate the water in the same fashion other sounds did.  The Creator’s mouth did not move as it did with her.  It felt as if the words floated in his mind like driftwood waiting to be collected.

And what was it he was called?  Nadir?  He was named?  Given an…identity?

He wracked his pre-filled memory banks.  The merman held back the biting laugh that threatened his lungs for a moment.  An amalgamation of both living creatures and he was named after the lowest point of the sun’s daily descent in the sky.  Arguably, he was also the lowest point in his Creator’s infatuation, given her blatant rejection of his attempt to give her companionship.

The man stared, awaiting a response.  His patience was thinning, lips pressed together.

“I am…fine.  I experience no pain.  I can see, hear, breathe, and move,” the Segment spoke.  

The sounds were strange and guttural and his mouth moved in unnatural motions.  His vocal cords did not like it.  They felt too loose and lacked control over the sounds.

“Can you not respond without moving your lips?  Without making a sound?” His Creator asked.

The merman, for he was beginning to understand the differences biologically and his own identity in more depth, schooled his expression and focused.  He tried to feel anything beyond himself, than the water on his skin that rippled his fins and the hum of the filtration system and the low hissing from the far corners of the tank network.  He could see his Creator, sense his presence in a physical understanding of him occupying space facing the tank.  Whispers crept up into his ear and throughout the base of his skull but it was akin to the way his Creator once pressed an ear to a closet door as a child.

One way.  He could listen and observe, distantly, but he could not partake.

All the better, really, Nadir considered.  The others were very loud and boisterous and clambering for attention.

The only attention the merman wanted was that of his intended companion.

But he was not eager to have his existence snuffed so quickly.

When Nadir did not reply, and instead shook his head, the man on the other side of the tank brought a hand to his lips.  Silence dominated.

Until the Creator’s shoulders rose and fell in a single motion when he reassessed what the Segment could only assume were notes. 

“Perhaps it is the medium required for your physical form that prevents the connection.  I had to make several modifications to account for waterproof mechanisms.  Sound travels differently in water.  It stands to reason that water would slow other waves down as well…”

The bipedal man dropped the papers with a flick of his wrist, uncaring and bored.  They were worthless now, in the face of recent events.  He approached the tank, arms behind his back.

“I am otherwise quite proud of this particular specimen, Fjar.  If he were to reside in the far reaches of the waters here, or live elsewhere, would you object?”

Ah, so that was her proper name.  The word was familiar, danced across his mind when he recalled memories of a name and another land.  Once again, none of it his .  Nadir had not existed properly until roughly twenty minutes ago.

The dawn spoke, her voice made for water, beautiful as the sunrise she represented.

“As long as he stays far away from me.  From us .  Your work is appreciated, my Zandik, but you know how I feel.  I will have you , not an imitation of you.  He will be safe provided he never approaches me.”

Nadir stared at his Creator, who raised his head a fraction before removing his mask.  Eyes as red as a blood moon watched the Segment in return.  Exhaustion tugged at the skin beneath his eyes and Nadir caught a flicker of hurt well-hidden behind a cold and calculating demeanor.

“There is no shortage of food and means to occupy yourself past the hole in the ice,” the man called Zandik said.  “Her territory does not extend past that delineation.  She has never been one to stray far from comfort.  I do not anticipate requiring your presence as I do the others, so you are free to go where you wish.”

The Creator returned his mask to his face and turned away from the tank before leaving the room.  He did not look back nor hesitate before he crossed the threshold and the door shut behind him.

Something constructed in Nadir’s chest and he could not, in all of the databanks and memories he was connected to, put a name to it.  It was not sharp, like a knife, but it persisted from his chest up through his throat and crawled over his tongue.  The sensation grew worse as the tank shimmered and flowed, the source obscured but unmistakable.  

The Segment dove and found the pipeline connected to the ocean depths.  His skin prickled as the temperature changed and the balance of minerals shifted.  

At first, he lingered.  How could he not?

The only other of his kind, manufactured though he was, lived in these waters.  He held memories of what it was to be on two legs and feet, feel sand between toes and the sun on a face that was his and yet not.  

The best way to learn and understand was to observe, watch, see what unfolded without interference.  

There was no point in staying where he was not wanted.  But if nothing else, such knowledge would help him survive elsewhere.

___________________

He grew bored within the year and set out from the reaches of the far north, with nothing but the currents and memories of maps as guides.  

Down here, beneath the ice and at such depth, hardly any sun reached through the frigid waters.  His Creator saw to it that his vision was intended for all environments but the winter months made it especially difficult when light was so infrequent.

The overworld was vast but the bodies of water were far larger still.  Nadir had the world between his fingertips.  Anywhere.  Everywhere.  He could go to the land of Freedom, where it was said the air was clear and the water even clearer; or perhaps to the reaches of the land of Eternity, where he might have better odds among the yokai; the nation of War was far too hot for his liking and the adepti of the land of Contracts were protective of their legacy.

His Creator spent time in…what was it…a fountain…ah, Fontaine!  Although the nation embodied Justice, it was said that all life sprang forth from the waters of the land of Hydro.   Zandik had enjoyed it there under a guise that had no name and was never recorded.  No doubt the waters would be crowded but of all nations, it seemed the most promising.

He stuck to the shadows of the water.  The voices at the base of his skull whispered, screamed, and shouted all the while.

Until one day, his ears began to ring after a muted pop and his vision went dark as he caught a glimpse of a waterfall in the moonlight.  ___________________

When he opened his eyes again, he felt rocks and silt beneath him.  Everything felt dry .  Disgustingly so, as if every water droplet was sucked from his entire being.  Something bright and painful winked down at him and with difficulty, he raised a hand to cover his eyes.

Pale strands of aquamarine hair clung to him, long and tangled.  Despite how arid everything felt, his hair continued to stick to everything.  When he was swimming, it didn’t matter much but now?  It just made his dry skin itchier.

He heard the splashing of water and his…tail, yes, that word seemed correct swayed with the soft current.  He couldn’t recall how he arrived here.  All he remembered was ringing, like high pressure, and darkness.

There was a sudden rustle and then another sound, foreign but soft.  

“Are you alright?”

He gritted his sharp teeth and lifted his arm.  What language were they even speaking ?  The light was now obscured and instantly his skin felt several degrees cooler.

His bleary garnet eyes focused on the object, no, person before him.  Backlit by the brilliant light in the sky (was that the sun?), he could make out wide eyes shot with concern but as stunning as gems, lips slightly parted as if to speak again, and colors framing you that he had no name for.

You.

You were beautiful.

He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face as a distant sensation swam in his mind that another might be jealous of you.

“Can you speak?” you asked.

His throat was arid, his tongue thick and rough.  He dared not trust his vocal cords and instead shook his head, grits of sand embedding into his hair.

You made a sound that made his heart jump, a rush of air passing through your lungs that mimicked bells.  Your smile was apologetic, sweet in the way your lips curved and your expression conveyed your sincerity. 

“Silly question, this place is eternally dry and you clearly belong in the water.  Let’s at least get the rest of your lower half in the water first.  You’re too striking and handsome to dry out.”

Forward, too.  Had he met others like you before?

Your hands were warm, a little rougher, and with a little assistance, he was sitting upright with his tail properly in the water.  He was already feeling a bit better, even if his gills felt dry as they laid flat against his neck and his second respiratory pathways took over.  His hair, he realized, was much longer than he initially thought, tickling his back.

He watched as you pulled out a flask, opened it, and held it out to him.  His red eyes traced the line from the canteen, to your hands, your arm, and then your face.

Human.  You were human, same as…

Same as who?

“At least take a sip so your throat isn’t dry,” you prompted.  “It’s safe, I swear.”

He took it and put the metal to his lips, which he now realized were painfully cracked, and let the water pass across his tongue and down his throat.  The water tasted of iodine and he gagged as he swallowed.

So he not only needed to be in water but he needed water to survive.  That seemed counter-intuitive.  After all, he was mechanical .  Or partially mechanical.  What purpose did such a thing serve?

“Certainly tasted otherwise,” he managed to choke out, holding the container out to you.

Your fingers were warm against his webbed fins and you didn’t even hesitate when your fingers brushed his claws.  He could not determine if you were very brave or very stupid for that, with the way your touch sent a jolt down his spine and into his tail.  

Thankfully, his lower half was in water as he silently cursed at the other sensations that arose.  He would have to research this experience further…

“Out here, the water has to be purified before it can be consumed.  At least for me, at any rate,” your smile showed your unspoken apology.  “Do you have a name?”

A question he could not answer.  At one point, he had to have.  Someone gave it to him.  The opposite point of the rising sun…

Before he could respond, your hands found his hair and settled on something he didn’t feel until you gave a gentle tug.

“Oh, that has to hurt, no?”

He liked when your voice was tinged with worry, especially for someone you barely knew.  That was kind of you, if not incredibly foolish.  So many in the water gave him a wide berth, avoided him, and for good reason.  Or so it seemed.  In hindsight, he had no explanation, no context, just…end results.

You tugged on a different spot and he gritted his teeth again.

“When you pull on it, human , yes, it hurts,” he spat.  “Are you always so callous with all you come across?”

“I’m sorry.  You have…that’s a fishing lure…and a piece of a net…that looks like some kind of mollusk…if you’re going to have long hair, you have to care for it…this isn’t salvageable…”. You sounded almost sad and you reached around to show him a crude pair of shears, large and clearly intended for working with harder materials than hair.  “I can cut it but I’d have to remove most of it.  Your neck would be bare.”

“Why would I trust the one tugging on me to use anything with a blade near me?” 

The question felt logical.  After all, you’d caused him great discomfort.  Interrupted what was likely meant to be the embrace of death.  Maybe death was the purpose, the point.  After all, he hadn’t felt anything other than the drive to explore and understand.  And if his body couldn’t go on, then what use was…

“I can leave it if you want but it’ll weigh you down and create more drag when you swim.  Not very aerodynamic, you know?”

He turned his head and felt his skin grow hot at how close your face was to his.  You smelled of sweat, dirt, and something uniquely you and his heart began its own unorganized rhythm.  That sensation that sat at the base of his spine tingled and turned into an ache as it ran through him, ruining whatever trains of thought he had.  Now, all he could think of was your lips and how much he wanted to feel your heat against him, around him, how he wanted to see your eyes blown dark with base need…

He swallowed when you smiled and your low laugh jostled your torso into his.  You were soft , Archons above, so soft…

Your eyes seemed to marvel for a moment, dropping to the bottom half of his face, before you spoke again.

“I gave you water and made sure you didn’t dry out like a raisin; surely that’s enough reason to trust me?  All I ask in return is your name.  So if our paths ever cross again, I know what to call you.  It’s only polite.”

He couldn’t reply, too preoccupied with preventing you from realizing whatever was happening under the water.  He did not remember much but he did recall that such base needs were…a boundary for most.  One he could not get a grasp on but you were far kinder than he anticipated…

Why did that preconceived notion exist if there was no evidence to support it?  What happened ?

He felt the wet hair fall away in chunks, his neck muscles instantly relieved as soon as most of the weight was gone.  You worked carefully when the locks were short enough and only twice did you ask for him to wet his head.  Something about an even plane to work with.  He closed his eyes and leaned back a little into your gentle touch.  You knew exactly how to run your hands through his hair against his scalp.  The only sounds between the two of you was the harsh click of the shears as you worked.  

All the while, he resisted the urge to place one hand in his lap.  He couldn’t determine if he wanted to hide his protruding appendage or stroke it.

No one had touched him.  Ever.  Whatever memories of who he was were vague if not outright gone entirely but he knew that much.  His life had been solitary and this need had never existed before.

“There, all done!” You chirped.  “It’s actually quite curly when it dries.  Suits you better, if I can say so myself!”

Curly?  

He brought a hand up and felt the locks, shorn and…oh, they flipped and had patterns of their own…

You stepped away and from the pack you had thrown down, you pulled out a panel of reflective silver.  

“Here.  I’m an inventor, not a hair stylist, but I think I managed to keep your handsome visage from being ruined.”

He stared at you, and then the object, and back at you.  Didn’t people use that word for those they held affection for?  Or was it a general descriptor for someone who was pleasant to look at?

He would need to do a significant amount of research on human customs.  The knowledge he did have was insufficient and vague, like he had swallowed it without understanding its contents.

The merman took the shining glass and almost dropped it.  Familiar red eyes stared back at him, sharp teeth that tore through the flesh of any creature winked in the mirror, and his hair…

Oh, that was much better.  It wouldn’t get in the way, easy to maintain…

His right ear sported a broken piece of glass on a wire.  What had that been?  Could that pop have been…?

“Well, I don’t look like a shark attacked my head,” he muttered in amusement when he handed back the mirror.  

That earring should come out.  If it was broken, there was no point in keeping it.  Maybe he could replace it with something else.  He tilted his head to get better leverage on the post, his claws making the task harder.  Ridiculous.  How did that thing get in, then?

“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’, Mister…?”

Your patience ran out, it seemed.  He returned your expectant look with a weary expression.  Truth would be prudent.  He had no one else to turn to.  And if you did run your mouth when you returned to wherever you were from, no one was liable to believe you, were they?  

After all, that was a large backpack for a day adventurer and you had absolutely no fear helping a strange creature survive.

No, you, too, were an outcast.

“I cannot recall my name,” he said at last.  “The last thing I remember is a high-pitched ringing before waking up here.”

“Nothing?  Not even a nickname?  A notion?”

Your persistence might have been charming if he wasn’t so focused on not ripping his ear fin.  Was the stupid thing sewn into his flesh?  

You clicked your tongue and knelt down beside him.  Your softness pressed into his shoulder as you brushed away his hands and worked with the clasp and post, pulling the wire from the piercing.  When you offered it, he shook his head and you reeled your arm back and flung the broken thing into the water.  It landed with a plunk and sank where it hit.

“I do have a notion, if you must insist on information.  But you have not shared your name, only your profession, inventor .”

His eyes locked with yours and you never looked away, never so much as stepped back.  No, this lack of fear wasn’t confidence, it couldn’t be.  Perhaps you were touched in the head or just absolutely without sense from the high sun.

You tilted your head and he had to close his mouth to repress the urge to latch onto the column of your neck.

Killing you would do nothing but potentially result in people looking for him.  A dead body, even that of an outcast, brutally torn apart?  It would only reinforce whatever superstitions existed in these parts.

Your name was nothing more than a whisper across your tongue.  He wondered, briefly, if the jolts that ran through every part of him at the syllables was anything like being electrocuted.  He repeated your name as his tail fins twitched and he throbbed again beneath the water.

“Mmhmm.  Your turn.”

He paused, licking his cracked lips before attempting the name that lingered in his memory banks like a ghost.

“Nadir.”

“The opposite of zenith,” you replied.  “Where someone’s shadow would appear…the lowest point of someone’s spirit…” You frowned, almost wounded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that last one.”

“I did not know its true meaning.  That is beneficial.”

You shook your head and gave a smile that was too tight to be kind.  You had embarrassed yourself and whatever glimmer of enthusiasm had existed was snuffed out with regret.  

“Its meaning is irrelevant.  You look like the evening sky out here, when the sun finally falls and fades from a light blue into the shades of night.  We are not our names given to us.  I think there might be a more suitable one for you out there.”

You returned to your pack and fiddled with something.  A rag and a bottle and small pieces of metal.  The merman inched himself towards the deeper parts of the water, not intent on leaving yet but itching to test his physical capabilities.  You stepped into the water with ease, legs protected by leather, and you reached down, experienced hands sliding a post into place through pierced flesh.

Nadir, for he had no other name to refer to himself, touched his fin and felt the small earring.  A stud, nothing fancy.  When he looked up, he noticed the gold and tanzanite gem from one of your own ears was missing.

“Whatever you call yourself, as long as you have that, I’ll know it’s you.  If we ever meet again.”

___________________

Without a past and without more than loose tendrils of memories, Nadir found himself wandering the coasts of an arid desert beneath high waterfalls.  He kept his hair short, as you had shaped for him, and he quite liked the way it retained a fluffy volume, curling in a wild fashion.  

In the depths, he found caverns and ruins, documents preserved through sheer luck and machinery that sputtered and whirred.

So much of the machinery felt familiar, although he didn’t know why.  He knew exactly where to touch, how the joints held together, and the distance to keep from those blasted sensors that targeted enemies.  Working with them was as easy as swimming and converting hydrogen dioxide into its smaller compound to oxygenate his circulatory system.

Presumably, whatever past he held and whatever memories were once in his system held the answer.  But he was not likely to obtain them again.

Language was retained.  The world’s history, such as it was, and its geography, were readily available.  He knew he was on the cusp of Sumeru and Fontaine.

But he did not know how he came to be.  Nor understand why he was so fascinated with the notion of artificial life (other than, perhaps, that he was not quite organic nor mechanic).

Above the waterfalls was a large statue that glowed bright at night.  The water there was purer, crisper, tinged with a sweetness that came with the surety of one’s actions.  Climbing it would not be impossible, even for Nadir; he did not lack the muscles to achieve it.

But it would be a waste of energy and time.

Where there were steam engines and mechanics, there were pipes to provide water to the various parts necessary.  He could only conclude that there were other means to make one’s way into Fontaine.  

The Fountain of all life.

Part of him wished to stay here, in the seams of the nations, perhaps even set up a workshop.  There was plenty to explore and play around with.  Ships came through here regularly and superstitious sailors would be easy to bargain with.

But Nadir was never one for staying idle.  The world waited for no one and there was so much more beyond his tiny scope.

And so, upon several inspections and tracking of schedules, he entered one of the pipes at the most opportune time and came out of the darkness to shining brilliance and crystalline waters.  The shallows were tricky for a creature like him, for he could not easily hide and there was too much activity around for his liking.

The other creatures were friendlier than he expected.  Otters tumbled with their shells and presented him with a rock to tuck away.  Blubberbeasts rumbled and invited him to swim with them.  The crabs were troublesome but nothing he couldn’t handle with a hard thwack of his tail and a slash of his claws.

Glowing crystals, flowing fauna, coral reefs…everything here teemed with life.  

And below Fontaine City, there was plenty to explore, it seemed.

Yes, this would do quite nicely for now.

___________________

He settled in quickly.  Food was abundant and there were so many caverns and old ruins that Nadir was not without shelter.  Some of the ruins appeared to be some kind of research facility or library, which suited him just fine.

What did not suit him were the random devices that would find their way to his usual hunting ground.  They often scared the fish away and he would return to his vast underground network with only metal cogs and curiosity, his stomach grumbling all the while.  Many of these things were almost operational as well.  It was like someone tired of the project or could not finish it through and flung it out the nearest window.

Ridiculous.  Wasteful.  Pathetic.

Nadir fixed the contraption once he understood its mechanical intentions and returned it to the shoreline.  On more than one occasion, he tied a bow on one out of seaweed, just to be, well, petty and make it harder for the owner to pick up.

The devices were always gone within twenty-four hours and in their place, he found mora.  Which he had little to no use for but at least the sailors he traded with never questioned its origin.  

One day, Nadir was unlucky enough to be caught as he was placing an unfortunate device back onto the ledge.  

“So you’re the reason I’ve yet to be fined, huh?”

His garnet gaze burned as he laid eyes on familiar hair, shining eyes.  He would know you anywhere.

Surely not.

Surely you had more sense than to throw away your projects.  To complete them yourself.  

He couldn’t determine if he should be angry or ravenous.  You, in Fontaine?  It must have been fate.  But then again, fate implied agreeing with the Heavenly Principles and partaking in the constant samara cycles of the world.  Which Nadir wanted no part of.

“And you call yourself an inventor,” he muttered, running his tongue over sharp teeth.  “Can’t even follow through on your own work.”

“Not my fault everything’s been done before.  Just when I think I’m making progress, turns out seven other people did the same thing.  Nothing’s original.”

“So have I been fixing garbage for nothing?”

“No.  I did earn a position in research and development for a private company that works with the Palais thanks to you.  And I have been fairly compensating you…although in hindsight perhaps I should have asked if mora was the best way to do that…not many places to use it for those who live in the water…”

You trailed off, face alight with embarrassment.  Your attire was dingy and looked like you’d endured an explosion.  Nadir sank into the water, keeping his eyes and ear fins just above the surface.

“How long have you been in Fontaine?” You asked, settling into the ledge.

You removed your boots and stockings and stuck your feet into the water.  Nadir couldn’t help but admire your bare skin for a moment before raising his head.

“I do not know how you track time but I have seen winter and spring already.  That is roughly…six months, if I calculated correctly.”

“You were okay when the waters froze over?”

How did he tell you that he held memories of ice far thicker and water far colder?  

“I am here, am I not?” Nadir shot back.

You gave a wry smile in return.  Silence dominated as you watched him, just as he watched you in return.  

“You kept it,” you pointed to your hair and then your ear.

“Short hair is far more practical and the earring is quite pretty.  It reminds me that some humans can be kind.  If not a bit…lacking in self preservation.”

“Oh?”

Nadir gave a wide, toothy grin and you didn’t so much as flinch.  When you didn’t react, he slid his tongue out slightly, the exact way he would when eyeing prey.

“I could have killed you in the desert.”

“But you didn’t.”

“And I could kill you now.”

“You won’t.”

Nadir barked a laugh.  “What makes you so sure?”

Your smile widened.  He watched as, for the first time that evening, a spark shimmered in your eyes.

“Because you enjoy tinkering.  If you killed me, what else would you fill your days with, Nadir?”

“You think very highly of yourself, Inventor.  There’s plenty of underwater devices, I’ll have you know.  Some of the Research Facility fell into the water, after all.  And it’s quite easy to find the parts I need from defective mechs or bargaining with divers.”

“And who else would you talk to, hmm?  Who else is brave enough—”

“Stupid enough,” Nadir interrupted.

You raised an eyebrow but continued, “—to try and bridge the gap?”

Nadir’s gaze dropped to your bare knees and feet, where your skin met the water, before he flicked his eyes back up to you.  Even now, months after you saved him, you sat with him and treated him as an equal.  Anyone else would attempt to bargain with him, keep him at arm’s length but here you were, feet in the water, treating him like…

Like you wanted him.

His chest constricted.  In the deep reaches of his mind, he tried to remember a time or a place someone wanted him and he came up short.

He reached a webbed hand, mindful of his razor-sharp claw, and danced a finger on the sole of your foot.  When you didn’t react, he swam closer, skimming his palm across the muscle of your calf.  

“And what gap might that be, hmm?” He asked as he situated himself between your open legs.  

From this angle, you were smaller than he originally thought (or perhaps it was the ledge height); he towered over you regardless.  His heart danced in time with the cadence of your laugh when his nails tickled your skin ever so slightly.

You smelled different than the last time he saw you.  Metal, soot, and the air of the thunderstorm just before the crack of lightning.  

He expected cockiness, a sharp remark.  But all Nadir found was a simmering gaze and parted lips, perfect for the taking.  Your breath mingled with his and he couldn’t help but wonder what you might taste like.  

“This one,” you whispered.

You leaned forward and Nadir gripped your legs to keep you from falling as your lips crashed onto his.  You were all softness, eager heat, and searing touches as you rested your hands flat against his bare chest.

His head swam as you pressed exploratory kisses to his mouth and jaw.  He read about this, along with many other things regarding human courting and mating.  Few researchers knew of or studied the creatures he was created to mimic.  But he knew enough to recognize that his body’s responses were normal, even if he disliked the loss of control.

Nadir gave a hiss as your dull teeth grazed the curve of his neck before you swirled your tongue across his skin.  His skin felt as if he were on fire.  A shiver ran down his spine and a throbbing ache settled in his lower belly as he hardened at your teasing.  

As long as he kept himself in the water and you stayed on the ledge, he might survive this encounter with shreds of self-control.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, human ,” he murmured.

“Am I?” 

You laughed softly into the soft flesh of his neck and he twitched beneath the water as a jolt ran straight down to his member.  Your warmth left him as you pulled away and he gripped your legs harder when you cupped his face.

“Looks like you’re liking it, though.  Flustered just like when I cut your hair.”

Well, that left him with no choice.

Nadir pulled you into the water with a splash and he dove, crashing his tail on the surface once to create additional spray.  He heard a cry as you flailed, your head bobbing above water once, twice, and then you began to…

Panic shot through him, killing everything else as he darted towards you.  In one swift motion, he scooped you under your arms and brought you back to the surface.  His heart calmed every so slightly when you gasped and coughed (although he would not have minded pressing his mouth to your again).  The ledge you were on was too high to easily reach, he realized, and he brought you to the nearest patch of shallow water.

“You could have mentioned that you couldn’t swim,” he muttered, settling you into the shoal.

“Right, yeah, because I’m going to admit that to a man with a tail and fins who lives in the water.  That’s like telling your murderer where to shoot you.”

Your voice cracked.  You sniffed and then coughed again before getting to your feet.

“Am I not allowed to tease you back?”

“ Teasing would be pulling away and splashing me,” you shot back, extending an arm out in emphasis.  “Finding something else about me to make a flirtatious response about.  Not putting me in danger.  What if I hit my head going down?  What if you didn’t have the reflexes you do?”

You wrung out your clothes and tried to make yourself presentable.  The previous flush across your cheeks was no longer soft and endearing; you instead looked like you were trying to embody the red creatures he saw in the regions near the Fortress.  Your eyes shone but not with the usual enthusiasm nor vibrancy he liked.  In fact, you didn’t look at him at all.

“For the record, most people apologize when they hurt someone else.”

He wanted to call after you as you trudged through the water, your name (your beautiful, brilliant name) on his lips.  But he didn’t want to taint it.  You didn’t deserve that.

Nadir watched, only the top half of his face to the bridge of his nose above the surface, as you made your way back into the city without sparing a glance back.

___________________

He never had a single device thrown into the nearby waters after that encounter.  

And you never came to claim the one you left behind.

It glared at him every time the morning sun glinted off the metal and he caught the stupid thing out of the corner of his eye.  A constant reminder of you , as if the pangs that shot through his arms and chest weren’t enough.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt you.  In fact, despite his words, he never would have been able to bring himself to truly sink his teeth into your flesh.  Nadir would never be able to live with himself if he watched life fade from your eyes and your body slump.

Which made him all the more frustrated with himself.  Pulling you into the water had been a gut reaction, a way to equal the playing ground when you were so intent on mocking him.  He did it with sailors who tried to cheat him out of an agreement.

How was he supposed to know you, someone who lived in the city of Hydro, couldn’t swim ?

Part of him tried to simply forget you and move on with his existence.  That’s what any normal creature would do, after all.  You weren’t like him and you certainly weren’t as clever as he was, at any rate.

But he never heard anything as beautiful as your laugh and the way you smiled at him…

He tried not to take the physical reactions into consideration, how he imagined you might feel beneath him, what coupling with you might feel like as you squeezed him, your lips parted and eyes lidded…

His seed joined the seafoam one morning before he grabbed the stupid contraption and brought it back to his workshop.

How did one apologize ?

This device was meant to be a timed lantern; the user would set the amount of time on the bottom in increments of five, ten, fifteen minutes up until a full hour.  You had not positioned the heat sensor right and it kept turning off before the actual timer recognized the appropriate measurement of time.  It was functional now and to change anything would render it useless for its intended purpose.

Nadir frowned.  He’d had a purpose once, hadn’t he?  His creation was not random; one did not just assemble pseudo-biological systems for no reason, after all.  Despite having no memories of his creator, he knew his muscles were synthetic and his biological systems were as functional and necessary as any other living creature.  Granted, he never tried not eating, but why else did he physically respond to your touch at all, if nothing was functional ?

He shoved the thought aside as he disassembled the housing on the lantern and removed the bulb, leaving only the lighting node itself, the sensors, and the glass panels through which the light shone.

The timer moved a set of cogs as it counted down and the heat sensor had a little lever to insert a piece of non-conductive material into the circuit, cutting off the flow of power.  Simple and basic wiring and cog placement.

But…

He rummaged through and found a comb and wheel, the pieces sliding home as if they were meant to be there.  Thorough testing revealed that another song might be needed, both because this one was grating to listen to and because he needed to take the extended intervals into consideration.

While he continued to work on the abandoned device, he sought pathways into the city itself.  Just like with the waterfall and the elevator’s steam engines, there was no way all of the machinery in the city operated without some kind of system to pump water through the streets.  Eventually, he came upon pipes and underground tunnels, entire networks of stairs and walkways far beneath the sunlight of the city.  

Small houses, crammed in next to one another, food stands and market stalls packed as vendors bargained and shouted.  Children ran along the waterways, pretending sticks from the surface were swords.

He never allowed more than his eyes above the surface and never for too long.  This was too close for comfort.  The last thing anyone down here needed was a rumor of a monster lurking in the water.  

It took weeks but he finally heard murmurs of your whereabouts.  A child, knelt down next to a broken mechanical animal, was told your name and that you fixed machines all the time.  That you could be found on the outskirts of the market when you weren’t working on the surface.

The sections there were shallower, if not outright inaccessible Nadir recalled.  Perhaps not quite a problem but admittedly, it made this all the harder.

Upon hearing your voice from one of the tiny cramped living spaces, he burned the image of your door into your mind until he finished the device.  He wrapped it carefully and made his way back to your location, the invention clutched tight to his chest.  Knowing at this hour that no one would spot him, Nadir lifted himself out of the shallows before the grating covered the waterway.  He pulled himself along with one arm until he reached your door, carefully placed the gift where you would see it and not break it, and gave your door a good thwack with his tail.  You grumbled a threat to supposed intruders as he made his way back to the water and he dove just as he heard your door open.

Quietly, he surfaced and watched as you picked up the wet oilskin package and opened it.  You froze almost instantly in recognition (he had not changed the shape in the slightest, despite his modifications).  Nadir’s heart hammered in his chest and his mouth became surprisingly dry when you wound up the key on the bottom.

The lantern flickered to life and images began to move between the bulb and the glass panels, casting shadows on the metal walls.  Notes from a song he only knew in composition danced in the air as you watched the shapes.  Nadir’s eyes were glued to your face.

A tail became legs.  The figure walked to another.  A kiss.  A house.  A life.

He once read a tale about a girl from Remuria, born partially in the image of an Oceanid, who fell in love with a person on the surface.  She made a bargain for her voice in exchange for the excruciating experience of legs, endearing pain with every step just to be with her true love.

It was too flowery for Nadir’s liking and seemed to reinforce the idea that people should stay where they belonged.  Nonetheless, the base sentiments were there.

You closed your eyes and clutched the lantern to your chest when the song ended.  

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, the words as loud to him as though he spoke them right next to him.

He did not expect you to join him the following evening.  But when he heard the notes as he was hunting for dinner, he could not help but heed the call.

You stood on the ledge, lantern in your hands.  Your face was puffy and you looked like you hadn’t slept.  A terrible look for you, if he were honest, but now was not the best time to say such a thing.

“Is this how you feel?” you asked.  “About me?”

Your words were soft and you broke your gaze away to look at the lantern you held.  He should have had a speech prepared.  Or at least a sound argument.  In actuality, he never expected you to show up again.  It had been enough to express how he felt through the shadow art and he would have been content with your apology, even if he wasn’t supposed to overhear it.

The longer the silence stretched on, the thinner your patience became.

And you were gracious enough to make the trip.

“If you are asking if I love you, the answer is truthfully that I do not know,” Nadir admitted.  “I have never had the life experience to tell me one way or the other and it is easy to mistake infatuation and lust for something more…foundational.”

He ran his tongue over the sharp points of his teeth.  

“But I do know that I never meant to harm you, that I never wanted to harm you, and I think I would be quite happy seeing your face every day of my existence.  However long that’s meant to be.”

He could see by the way your expression shifted that you had plenty of words to say.  For the first time since he met you, however, you opted for silence and instead placed the lantern down on the ground.  You removed your boots and uniform, leaving yourself only in the thin underclothes that gave the vague outline of your true form.

And then you jumped.

Your name left his lips as soon as you broke the surface and Nadir flicked his tail, propelling himself forward.

Was the idea of loving him so abhorrent that you could drown yourself to be rid of him?  Did you truly have a death wish?

Hands found his chest before arms wrapped around his neck and he surface with you clinging to him, your feet kicking.  Nadir glared down at you, a cheeky smile across your face the whole while.

“What were you thinking—” he started.

Wait, kicking?

You giggled and pushed away from him, moving your arms and legs to keep yourself afloat.

“Forced myself to learn.  I didn’t have a lot of time after my shifts for much else.  But I realized I was actually angry at myself,” you said.  “Had I known how to swim, that night would have gone differently.”

Your movements were clumsy but calculated.  Swimming wasn’t even second nature to you, or even third; he could see it in the way you expended too much energy in treading, in the clear discomfort of you submerging yourself under water.

“I’d like to try again,” you said, swimming slightly closer.  “If you’d be open to it.”

Nadir couldn’t name the feeling that seemed to stem from his fins and reach all the way into his head, making him dizzy.  

“You… want to…”

“Would I be here if I never wanted to see you again, Nadir?”

No, you didn’t seem the type, he wanted to say.  But sometimes, silence was better.  It didn’t weigh everything down.  And he very much enjoyed this warm feeling swelling inside of him seeing you in the water with him.

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

___________________

It took time, as all things did. 

You moved out of the undercity and, with a little help from a few colleagues from your company’s engineering department, assembled a house over the water just northeast of Fontaine City.  The trip into the city was the same length of time as before.  Only now, there were beaches instead of stone ledges and you had plans for creating underwater parts of the house for Nadir.

The lantern often lit up your room at night when the two of you went to sleep, both of you keenly aware of the other’s absence.

You didn’t want a solution that involved changing him, you said one night, toes in the sand.  Although you might never share the same bed nor eat at the same table, you were content to have dinner in the same space as him and to sit on the beach and discuss various mechanical ideas until the early hours of the morning.

At some point, he confessed to knowing that he was not entirely organic and that he hailed from a frozen country.  Beyond that, he held little to no recollection; when you protested about closure, he pressed his lips to yours and said that you were all he needed.

Hearing your resolution on not changing him meant more to him than he could truly put into words.  Finding a way to give him legs would be more practical but there was so much of human life that he didn’t understand nor wanted to.  

So instead, he opted to hold you close, tail in the tide, and point out the available constellations.

Until your breath was too hot on his neck and he lost the ability to concentrate.  This close, your scent mingling with the fresh evening breeze, your soft warmth pressed against his side, Nadir wondered if he might combust.

Discussions of logistics happened, of course.  You were no biologist but you admired his form on more than one occasion and took to sketching him when you needed a break from schematics.  He had felt your wet folds before when you directed his hand through your panties and demanded he understand just what his affections did to you.

He did. All too well.

Nadir grew hot when your hand wandered, tracing his slit and the tip of his member.  He gasped when you coaxed him further, your lips on his neck and his cock in your hand; he turned his head and found you gazing not at the stars but at him, every bit of you burning with a deeper yearning than mere lust.  

“I mean it.  I don’t want anything different.  Just you.”

You ran your hands through his hair, tugging slightly and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I want to taste you first,” he panted.  “Properly.”

Before he could rearrange either of you, you remove the remainder of your garments and situated your legs around his neck.  Your folds were glistening with your own slick and he only caught a glimpse before his nose was pressed against your clit and your scent and taste overwhelmed him.

Nadir gripped your thighs tight, nails digging into the soft flesh as he licked and teased.  He did his best to keep his teeth covered as he dipped between your folds, feeling your velvet walls against his tongue.  He pulled away only long enough to nibble at your thighs and nuzzle between your folds, reveling in the way your desire dripped down his chin.  

Your taste made him dizzy and served to only harden him further.  Your feisty hand reached behind you and squeezed his length and he groaned, the edge already closer than he wished it was.

No, not yet.

He pulled your hips down onto him and pushed his tongue into you as far as it would go.  Judging from the jolt that rocked both of you, that was much deeper than you anticipated.  He flicked across one particular spot and you bucked again as you gave a low whine.

Now that was interesting…you enjoyed that…

Nadir repeated the motion and you clenched around his tongue with a louder cry.  He continued, unrelenting, until you shuddered, walls fluttering as your taste changed and you gushed atop him.  You were breathless, chest heaving, glowing with a desire yet to be extinguished.

He licked every drop from your lips and your thighs.   You tasted magnificent and he couldn’t let that go to waste.

Your hands reached for him again but Nadir leveraged you with ease and flipped both of you over, your back on the sand and legs wrapped around his waist.

“I need all of you,” he whispered.  “Just you.”

You felt absolutely divine against his tip and he eased into you slowly, inch by inch, your swollen walls still fluttering.  He watched your expression, eyes widening and lips parting in pants as he finally bottomed out.  You were already beautiful but like this? 

Such things were not meant for this world.  And yet you were all his .

Your hands trailed across his back and down along his hips, tracing the scales of his tail.  He moaned when, as he pulled out slightly to simply steady himself, the heel of your foot pressed against his tail and pushed him back in and you held him there, filling you entirely with his length.  He nipped at your neck in retaliation.  

“Nadir…”

Oh, when you said his name like that, dragging out the last syllable…

He pulsed inside you and you had the gall to bring your other leg up, pinning him inside you.  Nadir gritted his teeth and, claws digging into your waist, pulled you further down the shore and into the water.  He flipped both of you so you rested atop him, legs encircling his waist, and your bodies still joined at the hip.  You sputtered for a moment but were wholly undeterred

He continued to thrust into you lazily as he floated along to deeper water.  He held you tight, and pulled your body further underwater, until only your heads were above the surface.  You were weightless on top of him, shrouded in his element, and he dragged out both of your releases until you convulsed on top of him, moaning incoherently.  

Nadir buried his face in your neck, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his guttural groan as he released deep inside you.  He shuddered as you peaked again, the intensity too much for him to bear so soon.

He kissed and licked your shoulder apologetically as you both came down from your high, tangled in one another.  In the distance, the water sparkled with the promise of daybreak, the sky already full of soft pinks and oranges.  Had you truly been up all night?

“Have you ever seen such a beautiful sunrise?” you whispered, nuzzling closer to him.

A vague memory tickled his mind.  A flick of fins, a touch of dawn, possessive glares.

If that was beauty by most standards, then he wanted no recollection of that.

“No.  No, I have not, my love.  But every day with you will contain such light.  I’m sure of it.”

[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.

[lgbtawarenessproject]

[Image ID: An individual with long brunette wavy hair, white complexion, pride earrings, and a transgender T-shirt with incomprehensive writing. The individual is white with a gap between the two front teeth. In the background are framed butterflies, a green neon light, and a table with a plant. The video periodically shows images of a painting of Mesopotamia, a orange and grayscale image of Enheduanna, a grayscale image of Lucy Anderson wearing a hat and dress-coat, Michael Millis standing behind a podium, and a large scaled image of a riot near the capitol. End ID]

[Caption ID: The individual says, "We have always been here, and that's the message I want to start off with pride. You see, thousands of years ago in ancient Mesopotamia, the priesthood of Innana, they were made up of transgender priests. And the very first human author Enheduanna whenever the very first time a story was put onto tablets with synbols was written about that priesthood. Transgender people are a part of the DNA of what it means to be human. We have always been here. Fast forward, 2000 years, the empress Elagabalis, a transgender roman Empress, that you never hear about in the history books. Demaned, she be referred to as herself. She went by the title of queen. We have always been here. Fast forward 2000 more years, Lucy Anderson, a black trans woman in 1980, transitioned as a kid. She became the best-known cook and socialite in her town in California. And whenever she was arrested and they found out her assigned sex at birth, all the townspeople gathered up and demanded that she be released because they had a feast to throw that night. We have always been here. And so, whenever we see people like Michael Millis stand in front of seatbelt calling for transgender eradication, that is impossible. Because you can eradicate every last one of us, and we would still be here because we would continue to be reborn. We are a part of what it means to be human. And so, they will still try. They passed all these laws to target us, and yet, look around. They failed. We are still here. They failed to eradicate us. And we will celebrate their failure for an entire month, and our joy will be our resistance. Happy pride. End ID]

A member of our discord did this ID for us!

[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!

[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.

[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.

[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.” 

[peppermint-cardboard]

alright alright alright i wanna talk about the new Alien movie. i’m gonna talk about the new Alien movie ok???????

this post is gonna be long. be warned lmao

this movie. oh my god dude. this fucking movie. fucking THANK YOU Fede Álvarez for making this fucking movie. oh my god. this movie was (in my opinion) at LEAST as good as the first two. it lives up to the tone and feel of Alien and captures the same grander scale of Aliens, all while bridging the gap between those two movies in a super satisfying way. it’s a direct sequel to the first movie in a really cool and interesting way that i really was not expecting, wrapping up one key story while opening another. the cast is incredible. everyone say thank you to Cailee Spaeny and David Jonsson right now. the writing was great. the music was amazing. the practical effects???? oh my god dude the practical effects. the practical effects were TOP NOTCH. HAVE YOU FUCKING SEEN THE ANIMATRONIC XENOMORPH????

ok spoiler time!!!!!!!!!! spoilers under the cut!!!!

the movie opens with a fucking bang and honestly the prologue is one of my favorite parts. the weird fucking Echo Probe with the MU/TH/UR 9001 AI?????? the weird red eye?????????? the familiar computer sounds???????????????? BIG CHAP FUCKING COCOONED IN THE VACUUM OF SPACE???????????????????????? THE WRECKAGE OF THE NOSTROMO????????????????????????????????

and then the human scientists on the station in the creepy outfits cutting open the cocoon and its fucking Big Chap in there and then the smash cut to the title??? i fucking loved it.

after that it’s just immediately into another banger set piece, the super bleak Wey-Yu colony. reminded me a lot of Aliens and Blade Runner, but also felt new. the far-off star in the distance was super cool and very eerie. and then of course the real villain of the movie casually doubles Rain’s work hour quota without a second thought which is really just blood-boiling.

then were introduced to the Corbelan, which feels Nostromo-like, yes, but also very new and fresh. i love its weird thrusters and how it just shoots straight up into space and the shot of it taking off was fucking breathtaking. actually let’s talk about the cinematography here for a sec. the lighting is always so fucking cool and moody, not quite as harsh and stark as the first movie but close. it fits with the theme and tone of this one i think :3

anyway the fucking Renaissance station…….holy shit dude. the premise was fucking cool, and the look and feel was even cooler. i really like the main crew’s mission to get crypto pods, i felt like that was a cool way to set up the stakes and give them a reason not to immediately leave. the gravity generators were a really cool plot device and also a cool bit of worldbuilding. i loved seeing the generators from Alien Isolation and the "MU/TH/UR 9000" system too, that was neat. and then. oh boy. the fucking flooded cryo chamber with the cloned facehuggers??? the crazy red lighting?????? THE DOOR LOCKING AND SAYING "CONTACT SCIENCE OFFICER"?????????????

i liked the addition to how Synthetics work, with the driver and disk being kinda like SIM cards. i thought the idea of adding Rook’s clearance add-on thing to Andy was neat, and Andy’s eyes rolling back into his head to reveal Company logos was super creepy and also cool.

oh, and speaking of Rook… honestly, i loved him. the CGI to make him look like Ian Holm doesn’t really bother me, especially now that i know his widow and children were all on board with it. i loved what it did for the plot, and for those of us who’d seen the original movie it was an awesome tension-builder bc that guy? that guy Rook? that’s Ash, my friend. i liked how at first he seemed helpful but then his demeanor completely shifted when he saw that the Prometheus Fire compound was safe, like he suddenly reverted back to his original programming and mission. ALSO BIG CHAP’S SHREDDED CORPSE ON THE FLOOR ABOVE THEM?????? fucking GNARLY!!

i think seeing Navarro get facehugged was honestly the most horrifying time it happened in the series, it was so fast and visceral. Aileen Wu’s physical acting in that scene was fucking amazing, so intense. and the race against the clock for them to freeze the Facehugger’s tail and take it off her was something new and very cool. seeing her get chestbursted was, again, insanely visceral and horrifying, especially when she sees the thing trying to break out of her with the handheld x-ray thing

the scene where Rain, Andy, and Tyler snuck through the Facehugger-infested room was super cool and also fucking terrifying

despite my opinions on the other prequels i really liked how they handled The Black Goo from Prometheus and Covenant, and i liked that it seemed to be a soft-retcon too? the stuff coming from the Xenomorphs instead of being used to make them was very neat. i liked how Rook’s attitude toward the alien and The Black Goo paralleled Ash’s and it really worked as a logical next step from that.

Andy’s abrupt shift to being like,,,,superhumanly strong was very cool, and i loved seeing his new Company-serving mission conflicting with his love and loyalty to Rain throughout most of the movie

seeing an earlier model of the pulse rifles was pretty cool, and i really liked how they had to be more sparing in their use of them, adding tension before that final cathartic Zero-G scene near the end

i loved (hated) the cocoon on the wall. it was insanely fucked up and disgusting and Giger would’ve been proud and i loved it. Bjorn’s death by acid blood was terrifying. the chase scene with Kay had me actually hyperventilating and jacked up my cortisol levels. it was great (horrifying)! Andy making the call not to open the door for her was gut-wrenching.

ok i gotta speedrun the rest of this movie lmao

the lab with the 3D-printed facehuggers and the nest inside the lower levels of the station was both awesome and terrifying, and i really wasn’t expecting them to be able to save Kay. Tyler’s death was terrifying and very Brett-esque, and just the sheer number of Xenomorphs and Facehuggers on the station was enough to make me nauseous

Rook’s betrayal was completely expected but you could still feel the weight of it bc the characters didn’t know it was coming!!!!

the "get away from her, you bitch" line from Andy was kinda silly and sorta didn’t fit but i was still grinning when i heard it lol

Kay injecting herself with the Prometheus Fire at Rook’s recommendation was just,, the cherry on top of the sundae of Fucked Up Shit Foreshadowing, and oh boy. the outcome did NOT disappoint in that regard…

Rain killing all the Xenomorphs with the pulse rifle in zero gravity was awesome and her swimming through the clouds of acid blood was terrifying

the gravity coming back on was another unexpected "oh, fuck" moment, and the elevator shaft was horrifying

and of course, Rook’s death and the destruction of the space station was an insane, fitting, and visually STUNNING conclusion… UNTIL things start back up again for the Corbelan crew and poor Kay fucking GIVES BIRTH to an egg containing the very Engineer-like Offspring (most visceral and horrifying scene in the entire movie istg), which was fucking terrifying all by itself.

the ending was definitely reminiscent of the first movie with the "last survivor of the Corbelan" line but it didn’t feel too repetitive either.

all in all i think Alien: Romulus was fucking AMAZING. it’s been rattling around in my brain since i saw it and it has me growling screaming gnawing on the bars of my enclosure i fucking loved it. i loved it as a movie on its own and i loved it as a sequel to Alien. Fede Álvarez, the cast, and everyone else who worked on this movie did a fucking amazing job. i loved every part of it with the exception of like,, three lines that all lasted like 2 seconds tops. no big deal lol

i’ve heard they have ideas to make a Romulus sequel by tying in the other prequels and honestly i kind of hope they don’t do that? i love where this movie stands in the Alien universe right now, being self-contained but not without connections to the rest of the franchise. Álvarez has said he’s not gonna rush a sequel if one gets made so that’s definitely a good sign right off the bat.

THIS MOVIE WAS FUCKING AMAZING AAAAAAAAAA ok im done :) for now :)

[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

[chorusgirls]

𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙱 𝙰𝚃 𝙶𝙾𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙴𝙳 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙵 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶.

…  BIRTH NAME   …  salomé atreides.

…  NICKNAMES   …  none you'll say to their face.

…  AGE   …  assumed forty.

…  GENDER  …  demi woman.

... PRONOUNS ... they & she.

…  SEXUALITY   …  bisexual. kinsey scale 3.

…  CIVILIAN OCCUPATION   …  ceo of anunnaki pharmaceuticals.

…  CRIMINAL ALLEGIANCE   …  the highest bidder.

…  NOTABLE ATTRIBUTES   …  vaguely unidentifiable accent, lightly french. voice claim: marion cotillard as talia al ghul. symptoms of perfection that turn the corner to unnatural: poreless, glowing skin, free of wrinkles; facial symmetry; hair that does not fall flat; a perpetually unnamed, tempting scent. a ringlike scar centered between her breasts.

…  CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS   …  talia al ghul  ( dc & the dark knight rises ). catherine tramell ( basic instinct ).  lady trieu  ( hbo's watchmen ). sévérine ( skyfall ). lady jessica ( dune ). amy dunne ( gone girl ).  cersei lannister  ( game of thrones ). pamela isley ( dc ).  medusa  ( greek mythology ).  scylla  ( greek mythology ).

( + ) ingenious, persuasive, patient, charismatic, intuitive, eloquent, sensual, observant.

( - ) cunning, resentful, possessive, anarchistic, enigmatic, manipulative.

PLEASE BE AWARE THE FOLLOWING BIOGRAPHY CONTAINS TRIGGERING TOPICS.

𝚂𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂.

trigger warnings: murder, poverty, prostitution, age gap, implied sexual assault, trafficking.

your father comes from a flat place: all ice, too hard to dig through. his world, unlike yours, is a wide one, his pain centralized to the fact that it is endless but empty. you learn later that the name for his wound is RED EYE, the name passed off with all the grandeur of a fatal diagnosis. and what is that you, bled for his sins, should care for the pinkness of one single vestige? the ritualistic stripping of the body, the drowning and remaking, is nothing in comparison to the informal breaking of one: your father's pain was in service to a purpose. yours was punishment.

your home has no name. so few places in this world that have escaped cataloging, geographers and mapmakers, and yours is one of them: if it ever bore a title of possession, you cannot say it because your mouth is too occupied with choking. the name of your home is nothing more than a scream. a guttural cry. in the place without name you're born to shaking grounds, your birth tied inexorably to bombs dropping. you, the child of a woman who knows these lands and the man sent to pillage them, do not exist without war. you would not exist without the promise and execution of brutality.

she dies in front of you. that's another way to say they kill her in front of you. that's another way to say they let you cover your siblings' eyes only because yours stay open. for association with the disruptor. they point to the body & tell you its kindness that you do not meet the same fate, that they banish you to the outskirts instead. your eyes, the same colour as your father's — the mark, the evidence — stay blistered open for years. sleep is little and rare, delicate and costly; with mother gone you are the provider and the shelter both, your brothers & sister tucked under your arms. it's called tooth & nail survival because that's all you have left in the end, bared fangs and a single, measly weapon in your pocket. you do what is necessary, thieving food of tables & allowing men to play graverobber with your body. your father, remember, was bled for a purpose. you were skinned for pleasure.

let us revisit: the cry, the guttural scream. the name of your home and the sound of your history. that's what life is, for some time. the throat grows raw at some point, the sound dimming when you meet him. a french diplomat, enamored of your gamine body, the harsh wonder of your electric eyes. he takes you and he keeps you, a mistress shelved in the back of his garden in the red marble house, hidden among the rhododendrons. it is not the happiest part of your life because you are never happy, but it is the most important: money enough earned for the siblings who have survived, and lessons in ascension for yourself. black velvet dresses that sweat in the wet country heat, meals at his cool long table, hair done up in a bow, learning to eat off fine china. a favoured pet, a smothered lover. a novelty to his visiting friends, who marvel at your grace and the bite that follows. you are not happy. but you are learning: your strengths, and their weaknesses.

all that knowledge on how to cross the pit, and still not enough to avoid when it gapes open beneath you. your lover smuggles you across continents under his arm, tucked into the suffocating folds of his jacket. a new life, he says. it's only your last one redressed. he's paid, you're told, a substantial amount for your acquisition: an exotic, gamine creature unlike the others. he has either the grace or the audacity to look embarrassed when you realize what's happened, the moment you recognize you've been sold as the pound of flesh and the bow around it.

a third act, the scream muffled now, lodged in a pocket of the throat where no one can find it. you learned long ago that thrashing against fate does no good, so instead you go still: placid as the doe drinking from a river, they imagine, forgetting what other creatures go undetected at the side of the water. yellow eyes in the dark, thorny scales, rows of teeth. in the organization that holds your leash you become indispensable, a favourite of the gods and the ones they serve.

the loosening of your puppet strings takes years, and you ripen all the while. higher bidders, horrid tastes. medusa didn't grow snakes till she was wronged, and your serpents bellow like twine around eden's first branches. in russia the scissors find you, the colour of your electric eyes lighting the way. the eyes, you've always known, of your father's. a comrade of your father's they say, his own eyes pink with familiarity. red with guilt. the escape takes several more months because you refuse to leave emptyhanded: when you flee, it's with jewels filched from the crown. it's with fangs sunk into the ankle of the one who put you in a basket.

salomé is not your name but it is your story, the daughter baring seven veils and the head of a man in your fist, clenched by the hair. america is soft as yarn, stretched in your hands, turning into the shapes you make it. men similarly unspool like guts for your blade, spilling what you demand in exchange for your touch. the one you will call husband is a conscious mark, as they all are. you've lived too long under the crosshatch of others to live now without aim.

philomene atreides, the ceo of anunnaki pharmaceuticals ⸺ a genius, perhaps, and certainly a fool. others might have called his wings wax when he tried to fix the world, but they only melt in the the attempt to correct you. his product, inserted into your heart. an ownership. another leash. we know what is to be done with leashes.

philomene atreides, the ceo of anunnaki pharmaceuticals ⸺ murdered in his bed. you, they say, spared the same gruesome fate by luck alone. you, with a severed rope in your palm, your neck barren and lovely.

you, after some months spent in mourning, voted unanimously as the new head of the snake. all you've ever had, all you've ever needed: electric eyes, tooth and nail.

SUMMARY: salomé is the daughter of a red eye mercenary and an occupant of a small country he was sent to destabilize. their mother is later killed violently for associating with a disruptor, and salomé & her half-siblings are ostracized as punishment, often met with violence. salomé assumes the role of provider and caretaker, engaging in everything from petty thievery to prostitution to make ends meet. this is how she meets her benefactor, a french diplomat who takes her as a secret lover. it's him who gifts them their first learnings in elegance, and the first time she starts crafting herself into a new person. the benefactor-lover sells her to an international organization, and she spends the years with them building trust & reliance, instituting herself as a favourite of the heads. like the mythic woman she names herself after, it's by getting close that she eventually takes his head on a platter. in their eventual escape, aided by a red eye defector close to her late father & a russian operative, she topples much of the organization and absconds with their money. in america they remake once more, a high class escort that grifts their way to new york's elite. she consciously pursues and then marries the founder & ceo of anunnaki pharmaceuticals, a union that lasts only four years, until his murder in their marriage bed by her hand. after several months, salomé is named unanimously by the board as the next ceo of anunnaki.

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

per the main's location page, salomé is something of a mythical figure within the city ( "as insane as the stories surrounding them are. a god among mortals, a suspected killer, a widow" ) and they do absolutely nothing to dispel the mist surrounding them.

had a congenital heart defect that worsened in her thirties; their heart is now something between tony stark little blue core and jason statham in crank - an implant created by her late husband or commissioned by him (stone inc? DETAILS IN PROCESS!). the only one of its kind. incredible and vastly imperfect. her late husband was, initially, the only one who knew how to keep it going - a threat of possession that he held over her until he. well. oops.

the first to take trial-approved drugs before they're released to the public, but still there are some she saves exclusively for themselves. skin glows, hair never falls flat. there's something almost eerie about the perfection

throws outrageous, outlandish parties, but ur probably never invited

actually, have you ever seen salomé age ? mm..

red eye is not aware of their father being one of their mercenaries<3

bathes in an unusual concoction & wears pheromones bred within anunnaki for various purposes. ever smelled

deeply deeply good at figuring out what you need and offering it, in herself or in her palm

often mistakes as being ms. atreides, but sal never took her late husband's name officially

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂.

bane to her talia; private security.

salomé has officially been exonerated for the death of her late husband, philomene atreides. but whose to say a new development couldn't occur<3

[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!

[cospinol]

spring 2024 isekai log☆ we very, very narrowly missed a 1-2 isekai finish in my overall seasonal ranking this time around (thanks to tadaima okaeri stealing second place by finally deciding to lean into the sleazy side of its setting a little at the eleventh hour) so i think the takeaway of this season might be that i have bad taste in anime. anyways, highs and lows!

can you believe it, a season where the isekai log hosts the season's best show by a mile???!!! kantei skill is really, actually almost perfect in every way - neatly plotted, thoughtful in its theming, and absolutely bursting at the seams with delicious little character dramas. every single member of the main cast is good enough to carry an entire series on their own (as is appropriate to a plot about acquiring really good personnel), and the mock-battle arc that the season ends with once the whole cast's been brought together is not only a delight in its own right but a confirmation that this series both intends to commit to and is very clever at coming up with military strategy plots - basically all of its priorities are exactly what i want them to be ,and it executes them almost perfectly all the time. i haven't mentioned the isekai aspect at all yet because it's a classic case of 'we put tensei in the title to increase the viewcount of this standard fantasy series' and it almost never comes up in the series at all, except one random reference ars makes to hattori hanzo late in the series that came so out of left field that it made me laugh out loud. i can't overstate what a selling point ars is a protagonist, too, the rare case where his being a little plain and clumsy in some respects and highly competent in select others functions as *incredible* gap moe, he is so cute!!! nothing but respect for MY future emperor... this is a preliminary 8/10 but if next season continues to deliver while raising the stakes i'll increase the whole package to a 9

dainana ouji is structurally and tonally a lot more conventional - it's a goofy comedy about joining the adventurers' guild and killing demons and so on, it's just also insanely good on a technical level, understated but incredibly stylish with an excellent sense of comedic timing; its pacing is breezy and its cast is endearing, and the tournament arc in the manga (which it convinced me to read ahead in because i was enjoying it so much) promises even more. this series is a lesson in simple excellence, that's all!

after that of course there's nowhere to go but down, so we're immediately dropping down to the 'basically average on a normal isekai scale' sector with the new gate, which is really... generally pretty Fine for a normal isekai. it's hard to praise much about it when it has such stiff competition but while its writing is always thin and basic it's got close enough to an idea of what a story should look like to spare it from a lower score, and it never made me angry, so (<- a sad glance back at my usual standards for the genre). the only thing of any note at all about this show, unfortunately, is that it's incredibly ugly on a 'something went very wrong very early in production' level such that all of the characters look wildly off-model at all times; please look at what the protagonist's design already looks like on the poster and then imagine how the show's faring by episode eight

madome (not an isekai, but it's a basic fantasy LN with maou in the title, so) earns about an equivalent middling-four that i did also lightly consider bumping up just a little because its approximate competence in most respects eventually gets it to a pretty cute and decently well-earned no-harm-no-foul slice of life status quo by the very last episode, but ultimately for all this show's extensive parade of gimmicks and light-novel flights-of-fancy it never came up with anything that i cared enough about to give it an extra affection point. also, critically, i think the single most important aspect of the show (the romance between the two leads) is just nothing to write home about; it's not actively irritating but their respective neuroses don't interact in a particularly interesting or cute way - and i know they could, because this show is extremely similar to last fall's ikenaikyo (which has the exact same 'lol it sounds sleazy conceptually but it's actually fluff' premise (as well as just about the exact same protagonists), but which i didn't review at the time because it didn't put the demon lord part in the title, natch) and fares very poorly in comparison -- and as much as i liked that romance, i only gave that show a five, so. them's the breaks!

one level down, from 'nothing special here' to 'no, i mean there's literally nothing here', is dekisoko, where... there is nothing. the gimmick is kind of that it's not really an isekai because he was reincarnated in the same world, i guess, but it can't actually commit to it enough to give us any indication of when/where his first life took place relative to the current setting, which might give you some indication as to the care and consideration put into this series's writing. of course the premise is just a basic veneer and a justification for mc-kun's op abilities and what it's actually dedicated to is absolutely fucking nothing; it listlessly goes through some basic isekai motions (dad possessed by a demon! evil but not evil holy knights! elf forest! and other greatest hits), looks extremely bad the whole time, and then stops. the only character of note is the goddess (??) from the protagonist's previous life who also was reincarnated along with him(??), who has Two character traits (kinda goofy and speaks in the third person), which is twice as much as the rest of the harem, and a few cute interactions with the mc over their shared history, but then of course she's not even the main girl/actual fiancee, even though she's the redhead with twintails! the state of the genre, honestly...

and finally re:monster. this fucking show...... okay, so this show is pretty clear about what it is from the get-go; it's a basic tensura-like where the protagonist makes the most of being reborn as a low-level monster by using his random unrelated hax. the first few episodes of the show cover his early levelling-up as a small child whose peers are barely sentient, and instead of choosing to have very little dialogue it features a constant voice-over where the mc describes the events that happened to him, in first-person past tense, clearly almost verbatim from the light novel. it was around the fourth episode, when the protagonist was fully grown and now clearly having conversations with the other characters that we'd occasionally hear a line or two of between stretches of the same narration that had been going since the beginning in exactly the same overbearing quantity, that it hit me...... that this was going to be the entire thing. yeah, technically this is a television show; it's got pictures, and occasionally it trusts that you can understand that the protagonist is fighting a monster right now without having it explained to you, but for the most part what the experience of watching this series is actually equivalent to is reading a series of detailed episode summaries on a dedicated fan wiki, or possibly listening to someone read you a light novel!!! i swear could count on one hand the number of scenes where two characters exchange more than five lines of dialogue before the narration swoops back in to explain 'that scene happened to me' and shuffle us on to the next set-piece; we are never in ogurou's head in real-time; nothing happens in this show, it's all already happened. then we did this, then we did that. it never stops!!!!!

i did a little poking around to see if any other reviewers were as bothered by this as i was but it seems that i'm the only person in the world who this format drove out of their fucking mind - every time the 'next day' sound effect plays it's a drop of water on my forehead, slowly bringing me towards the brink. this fucking show... of course the plot's also atrocious even for a tensura-like and the tone (insofar as it's possible to set a tone in a wikipedia plot summary) is incredibly broken; in particular it's flippant about (and full of) sexual violence on a level that's shocking even for the genre and in a particular way that's downright nasty, given the fluff piece(????!!) that it generally seems to want to be when it gets down to character interactions; there's also all sorts of miscellaneous stupid crap like the names of the female characters not being revealed until after they've given birth to the protagonist's babies(??????????!!!!!!). i did ultimately just keep watching in the end to see if it would ever actually become a real show. it did not

and that's isekai for you. oh, i dropped tsukimichi 2 in the end; i'm only about eight episodes away from the finale but all of those episodes are the same showpiece-arc that i don't like the premise of lol. the moral of the season is that 'let's make a village for monsters' premise is the real evil and all the other subgenres should gang up on it and kill it