#the way it’s set up (depending on how it’s interpreted and by who) is like a fine dining experience

[angelnumber27]

BURGOR? WITH A KNIFE AND A FORK? Radric why

[saylor-twift]

“he loves you, but he would never say that to your face.”

“-but he would never admit that.”

“-but he would never tell you.”

???

Are you sure? I am an avid tumblr stalker, and I’ve read so many things on silly little hat man in my time. I’ve seen things that tore my heart to pieces, that patched it up, that made me want to rip my guts out and throw up, that made me feel on top of the world.

And yet this is the one thing that bothers me so very much. I know, everyone has their own interpretations and opinions on different characters. So let me share my own.

The Wanderer is such a deeply written and intricate character, strung together with deep fears and insecurities, tragic backstories, and a beautiful story of change, healing, and moving forward. (I hate hate hate it when he is forced down to the level of nothing but oversexualization and “uwu sexy anime boy”, but that’s a conversation for another time.)

I’m sure if you’re reading this, you’re probably acquainted with Wanderer’s backstory, so I’m not going to explain. A lot of shit happened that made him who he is, and ever since the events of Irminsul, he has taken on a new path that he cannot go back on. Not like he’d ever want to. He said it himself, he never had any intention of returning to the Fatui. (And also- why choose to go backwards when you’ve got such a nice path set ahead of you?)

Anyways, point is, he’s changing. Notice how I said changing. He’s not changed, he’s just starting to. He’s getting there. Which brings me back to my argument. In the case that Wanderer ends up with a partner, things are certainly not going to be like a normal relationship. (He’s got plenty of red flags, don’t even try to deny it. But he’s a fictional character, so I suppose we can let this one slide.) Is he going to make the first move? That depends on if you make him desperate enough. Otherwise, it’s all on you, babe.

He’s not going to take it well. He’s going to deny it as hard as he can. You don’t love him, how can you? He is the furthest thing from loveable as you can get on this godforsaken planet. (His thoughts, not mine) But he certainly loves you, and, albeit with some likely pressuring assistance from Nahida, he’s come to terms with that terrifying knowledge.

“But he wouldn’t admit that to you.”

STOP. STOP RIGHT THERE.

Here is where my controversial opinion comes in. Most people tend to portray Wanderer as this cold, cut-off, aloof and irritable man, even in a relationship. And before you say anything, no, I absolutely do not think he would be the lovey-dovey, sappy, overly caring and romantic type. He’s not on either end of the spectrum, but I do think he’s somewhere in the middle (but probably leaning towards the former side).

Love is so, so very scary to him. And downright unknown. He’s traversing into uncharted waters here, give him some space to figure things out. That being said, he’s testing these waters. He’s not going to say he loves you at the beginning of a relationship. He has to make sure this thing is going to work. Your relationship is a newly built bridge, and those three words are the heavy cargo passing through. Without a strong foundation, the bridge is going to collapse, no questions asked. The only problem is, it’s going to take a long, long time to build that bridge. It’s going to be more expensive, more time consuming, and cost more materials than you had originally bargained for.

But that cargo can’t sit on one side of the bridge forever, can it? No, it has to get to the other side at some point. So if you have the patience to give your time to this bridge, the cargo will find its way to the other side. The foundation may wobble, the planks may shake, but the bridge isn’t going down.

He loves you, and he would admit it out loud. He would say it to your face. Just maybe not as soon as you want it. It’s going to hurt, and you’re going to wonder if he actually cares for you or not. Fear not, because if you pay attention to those little things he does when you’re not looking, it will feed you those little crumbs you need till you can finally be satiated when the full meal is done cooking. He mends things for you, things you had given up on because you’d never have the time nor energy to do it yourself. He cooks, and surprisingly, it’s always your preferences. He collects things that remind him of you, some he keeps out of embarrassment, and some he leaves on your bedsheets whenever you’re not home.

He’s been hurt, abandoned, and betrayed far too many times to immediately let himself fall into something as complicated as a relationship. He’s going to be distant, you’re going to disagree, probably fight a bit. He’s just seeing how far he can bend the lines, how much you really want him. (red flag maybe!! but he’s working on it, it’s going to be okay. mayyyybe you can look past just this one…) If you won’t leave even if he does this, then he thinks, maybe you’re the one. Maybe fate decides to treat him benevolently for once.

And when you finally, finally get to that point, he’s going to drown you so deep you can never get out. He’ll say he loves you, does everything in his power to make sure you never forget it. (no, he’s not going to read you love poems in the moonlight and call you darling. sorry if that’s your thing, that’s not who he is.)

This relationship will never be perfect, but relationships never are. Just as long as the two of you are willing to be patient with the other and get through your differences and clashing personalities, you are going to mold together perfectly. And even if he doesn’t say it often, (which he probably won’t. he’s certain you know it. why repeat something already ingrained into your mind? he doesn’t use those words lightly), it’s not like he’ll never say it. He won’t leave you in the dark for too long. He loves you, don’t worry. He’ll say it, but he prefers to show it.

[wispstalk]

Some writing advice for hunting, bc I see a lot of hunting scenes in fantasy that make me itch. More under the cut. Don't read if you're sensitive to blood-and-guts discussion or animal death.

Finding game:

- I don't hunt much these days bc I don't feel like getting my ass out of bed at shitfuck o'clock every weekend during the season. Which you have to do, because much of the time you come home empty-handed. Successful hunts come about when you're out there often.

- You don't really have to be a good tracker to hunt, but you do have to know the basics of your prey and you have to be able to interpret the landscape even if it's unfamiliar. It's less likely a tracker is looking for "bent blades of grass" or whatever and more likely they are noticing game trails, sheltered areas where nests and burrows are, a spot of thick vegetation which would indicate a water source.

- Scat and footprints are useful too ofc but to varying degrees. If I'm hunting deer it's just confirmation that they're in the area; more often I use knowledge of their habits to actually find them. If I were hunting something elusive and solitary like a cougar I would pay more attention to the tracks but that's also a reason people hunt with dogs!

Actually hunting:

- Bows are not the only hunting weapons, though would be most common in ur typical medieval fantasy type setting. Spears and lances, slings with stones, and clubs would also be used. And knives and swords but in this hunter's opinion, FUUUUCK that.

- Lung shot is a quick death. Heart shot and head shot too but that is much harder. Other shots might mean tracking a wounded animal as it runs away. This is where things like broken twigs/bent grass are especially telling, and ofc blood. Small game bleed out faster and won't get as far but you might spend quite a while running after an elk shot in the flank.

- This highly depends on the prey but hunting often involves more sitting around than people realize. I bring a small pad for my booty ass bc sometimes you'll spend hours in a strategic spot waiting for the game to pass by. Also hides (the shelter, not the skins) are a thing and most hunters would consider shelter-building an essential skill.

- Hunting seasons are not entirely a modern convention -- there are better times of year to find different animals. But there would be less concern, historically, about killing animals during the breeding season than we have today.

- Even when I was hunting regularly and more confident, I got a huge adrenaline spike EVERY time I had an animal in my sights.

Big game:

- A deer has a lot of meat on it and though it's not a bad thing to leave a carcass for scavengers, your party of two or three adventurers probably will not go to the trouble of hunting deer unless they have some nearby place to cache, preserve, or trade what they can't eat before it spoils. Are they leaving it behind or do they have some way to take full advantage of such a large kill?

- If your character gets a large game animal they're probably going to field dress it: deal with all the blood and guts on site, then quarter it so it can be packed back to the campsite or whatever. My dad is a big burly mutant man and he cannot carry a deer by himself. You can carry game on poles or horseback too but field dressing is pretty typical in a situation where u can't just fling it in the back of the truck and hang it at home.

- I grew up eating bear and when it comes up I'm often surprised how many people don't know that people hunt bear for meat. It's tasty imo, especially makes a good sausage

- I can hunt deer alone, though company is nice. I wouldn't attempt hunting something more dangerous by myself. Large animals especially are better taken down as a group effort. In the TES context for example it would be kind of insane to hunt horker alone. Not that some folks wouldn't try.

Small game:

- A character who subsists mostly on hunting is going to be eating a lot of small game. They are probably going to use traps and snares in addition to actually going out on hunts.

- Look up "rabbit starvation." Small game is often (but not always) lean and going without fat for a long time can cause serious health issues.

- I joke that you don't hunt turkey, you just go get one. Game birds are kind of stupid. I plan a deer hunt, but I have gone out and shot grouse on a whim.

Processing:

- Draining blood, skinning, plucking, butchering, dealing with all the bones and guts, storage and preservation: pretty time consuming and involved. It's a good excuse for social activity.

- The moneyed classes likely would not process their kills themselves, unless they're doing some kinda randyll tarly masculinity flex for the symbolism. Kitchen staff or a local butcher would handle it.

- A good skinning knife is kinda wide and short. Some game knives have a rounded tip which keeps it from puncturing the skin in case of accidental slippage.

- Skinning is done with a light hand bc puncturing the digestive system means you've poisoned the meat. I will say it is less difficult than I expected it to be the first time I tried it.

- We don't eat a lot of offal in the US but a deer liver, for example, would be considered prime meat by many and eaten first. Bear, walrus, and seal liver contain toxic amounts of vitamin A and would be thrown away.

- I've been told every animal has enough brains to tan its own hide, but I think there are some exceptions. It's definitely true of deer and elk. With small animals like rabbits it's hardly worth the effort of getting the brains out and other things can be used but brain tanned leather is soooo soft and nice.

- Hides and pelts are useful and valuable and would be kept or traded if circumstances allowed. You can tightly roll a hide to keep it from drying out before tanning, or you can freeze it, basically indefinitely. You can also air dry it once scraped clean and soften it later, which is what fur hunters would most likely do for efficiency's sake. Tanning is also so so so fucking gross imo. Really slimy process, and tanneries REEK.

That's all I can think of for now and this is already hella long but the takeaway is that it is generally a pretty involved activity and more impactful on lifestyle than I usually see depicted. So there ya have it

[windvexer]

Theme and Action: a tarot method for brainstorming plots, setting, and characters

I find a lot of story brainstorming spreads to be clunky and rigid, so I did a little experimenting and came up with a method I like a lot. I haven't done a ton of testing yet but I thought I'd share what I have.

Basically, it's a two card draw from a deck split into majors and minors. Each draw always has one major card (theme) and one minor card (action).

When you have a question, like:

What are some ideas for the next scene?

Why would that character behave that way?

What's the defining characteristic of this vampire clan?

What do the people in this society fear most?

Why is this scene dragging?

What does this character need to feel more real?

You would draw one major card and one minor card!

Themes and Action; what it's about vs how it manifests

We could call these cards a bunch of different things depending on exactly how the question is framed, but Themes and Action are good enough.

Basically, the major arcana card gives subtext or context, and the minor arcana card provides specific incidents. Like this!:

"In my vampire setting, what is the most important thing in vampire culture?"

Theme: Death

Action: 10/Pentacles

Interpretation: (Theme) The most important thing in vampire culture is the process of dying and the equalizer of death itself. (Action) This has resulted in cultural rituals where death is treated as a sacred adoption or initiation into a new family/estate.

(I really drew this test spread and it really was death lol)

We can swap out the Action card to see a different outcome:

Theme: Death

Action: 5/Swords

Interpretation: (Theme) the most important thing in vampire culture is the process of dying and the equalizer of death itself. (Action) the horror of death and loss has never been overcome in this society, and it must be dealt with as an individual - because vampires process the pain of their own deaths by taking it out on each other.

Here's a different example. In an urban fantasy book where a witch solves ghost mysteries, pacing is dragging and we need our next scene to be exciting. But despite a foot chase after a suspected ghost poacher, the scene doesn't feel fast paced or exciting. The question is, "how do we spice this up?"

Theme: Hermit

Action: King of Cups

Interpretation: (Theme) instead of a crowded street, the character will be isolated and without normal support. (Action) she'll be trapped in a closed space with the story's main villain, who most closely connects with the King of Cups

Another swap, this time switching out the theme card:

Theme: Empress

Action: King of Cups

Interpretation: (Theme) the scene feels boring because it's action without development. Show the main character's personal development and give her a 'level up' moment. (Action) have the ghost poacher lead her to a premature showdown with the main villain, whom she faces bravely for the first time.

This is already long so I'm not going to go on and on with examples but so far I've found this method to be pretty versatile.

Try interpreting Theme and Action as literally as you can within the context of the story!

If you're writing a story about a flower princess who sleeps on a dewdrop in the mystical Gnarlwood Forest, the Sun card will mean one thing.

If you're writing a story about vampires, the Sun card probably means something very different.

Major arcanas can be literary themes, like the moon representing deceit within society, but they can also be literal; in a werewolf story, the Moon card might represent the celestial body that controls the lives of certain people.

The most important thing for me is to avoid interpreting the cards in a general self-help sense.

The cheerful villagers of prosperous Splitsky Castle are waiting for you to invent a festival so a mysterious stranger can come to town and get the plot going.

The question is, "what kind of festival gives me the right setup to pull off the plot point I want?"

The theme card is the Magician, so ideas for the festival could be:

A festival honoring magic users (if they exist in your setting)

A festival honoring the resourcefulness of the villagers

A festival of stage magic and trickery

The action card is the 6/Cups.

Probably, the festival is not about healing your inner child with Jungian shadow work. More contextual ideas might include:

A festival where children are chosen to be trained in magic

A festival celebrating teaching the next generation important skills

A festival meant to delight and entertain children with stage magic

Developing related factions or foils

Draw a major arcana card to identify a certain Theme, maybe along the lines of:

What do they hold to be sacred?

What do they not care about, or hate?

What is their most cherished virtue?

What is the defining feature of leadership?

When they sing about home, what is in their songs?

This theme will be the same for both entities.

Draw different minor arcana cards to show how each entity expresses that theme.

Conversely, work in the opposite direction: keep the minor arcana card for both entities, and swap out the theme card.

Finding Action cards when you know the Theme

Holding the deck so that it's facing you, thumb through the cards until you find the major arcana card that describes your theme. The most recent minor arcana card that was on top of it, even if separated by other majors, is the action card.

Reversals

I tend to read both cards as upright and reversed, and just apply whatever meanings are most relevant. In my experiments using reversals ended up being too finicky and specific, and limited my creativity.

Complex Concepts and Plots

For a complex reading, like plotting an entire novel or building an entire character, I have found more utility in doing many pair readings rather than doing one large spread with many pairs.

My tests so far have suggested that the most creative freedom is found in asking specific questions, like "what is this character's driving motivation," and "what is her quirky hobby," and "what makes her put up with her annoying best friend," rather than trying to build a giant spread that includes all of these things at once.

As a caveat, in plot spreads, I will sometimes put pairs down without returning them to the deck, and then connect Theme/Action pairs with single action cards to suggest events that connect the dots.

[trueebeauty]

Hii i dont know if requests are open or not

If not then ignore! If open then can i request a fic or hcs about dating gitae? Thankk youu :)♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ notes ; hello! I take requests, and I would be happy enough to do yours! I did both a short fic and dating hc's! <33

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂'𝐒 : 𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐌

𝖦𝖤𝖭𝖤𝖱𝖠𝖫 - regular, daily

» Gitae has absolutely no clue what it takes to be a decent boyfriend. Arguments are practically your national anthem, and he solves problems by ignoring tf out of you.

» Boyfriend Skills? Nonexistent. He's more like a grumpy roommate who occasionally throws money at you. (Hey, at least he pays the bills?)

» He may not communicate like a normal human, but he sure knows how to shower you with gifts.

» Physical affection? Never heard of it. If you try to snuggle up, prepare to be launched across the room like a ragdoll. (No judgment on how you interpret that.)

» Love Bites (Literally). Be prepared for black and blue marks – a badge of honor (or a cry for help, depending on your perspective).

» One minute he's a raging inferno, the next he's eerily silent. You never know what to expect, which is both terrifying and weirdly exhilarating.

» You're the brain, he's the brawn.

𝖲𝖥𝖶 - his soft side (?)

» Despite the chaos, Gitae somehow guarantees you a good night's sleep. 

» Hand-Holding Enthusiast. Okay, so he might grunt disapprovingly, but deep down, he kinda likes holding hands. It's the little things, right?

» Hair Play (on His Terms). Consider it a major victory if he lets you graze his hair. Don't get too grabby, though – he might just cut your fingers off.

» Your Personal ATM. This man's bank account is practically yours. 

» Gentle Giant (Ish)---not really. Believe it or not, he can be surprisingly sweet… around you, at least. (He won’t kill you, so that’s kind of sweet. Just don't test your luck.)

» He needs you.

𝖭𝖲𝖥𝖶 - not really nsfw ; only a little

» A whore. Let's Just Say He Earns His Nickname. AHEM. Moving on.

» Chivalry is definitely dead in the bedroom. 

» Makeouts? Those lips come with a price – be prepared for some serious bleeding (blood kink???)

» PDA? Not Exactly. He might sneak a grab here and there during meetings. Just channel your inner calmness (or give him a good whack – he secretly digs it).

» IS DEFINITELY A BIG BOY.

» Surprisingly Gentle (the First Time). Who knew the big, bad KOS could be such a softie… at least initially?

So, is he your dream man? Probably not. But hey, at least life with him is never boring! 

You could only breathe in deeply as you forced yourself not to break out into a scream. Under the polished mahogany table, a very familiar set of hands were grazing you – none other than Gitae's. They moved with practiced ease, sending shivers down your spine in a way that had nothing to do with the seriousness of the situation.

One of your members, was in mid-rant, laying out the latest intel on a rival gang. His voice boomed across the conference room, punctuated by the occasional slam of his fist on the table.  Every fiber of your being should have been focused on the intel, formulating your own response. But all you could manage was a glazed stare, your mind fixated on the subtle dance unfolding beneath the table.

Gitae's touch was infuriating. It was a blatant disregard for the seriousness of the meeting, a silent taunt that only you could understand. The barely noticeable smug smirk you knew played on his lips only fueled the fire. You yearned to reach over the table and slap it right off his face. The urge to retaliate, to prove you weren't some pushover, warred with the delicious tension building within you. Taking a steadying breath, you tried to refocus. "...ambush our shipment at the docks," he finished, glaring around the table for confirmation.

A chorus of gruff agreements filled the room, but you remained silent. You needed a distraction, something to break Gitae's hold on your attention.  Feigning deep consideration, you cleared your throat.  "-random name-," you started, your voice carefully measured.  "What about the informant we have planted in their operation?" The room quieted. You felt Gitae's touch falter for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing your peripheral vision—a small victory.  You continued, detailing a plan that utilized the informant, successfully steering the conversation away from your current predicament. As he elaborated on your idea, a spark of approval glinted in his eyes.  Behind you, you felt a slight pressure under the table.  Was it a lingering caress or a silent apology?  

You couldn't be sure, but a small smile played on your lips.  Later, after the meeting, you'd have your chance to settle the score with Gitae.  And who knows, maybe you'd even give him a taste of his own medicine.

[merakiui]

monops's reflection.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader x floyd leech cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, unrequited love, obsession, drugging, kidnapping/captivity, restraints, dark/possessive/violent thoughts, biting, blood, characters written as 18+ note - happy birthday, tweels!!! :D may you continue to be crazy.

Mostro Lounge is tranquil tonight, save for the occasional clinking of glass against glass and the soft melodies tumbling from your lips. You busy yourself with song while you wipe the surface of a table, bending forwards to reach the very back with the dampened rag. Jade finds himself eyeing your figure as you flit about, observing the way you wring the cloth free of excess water, your fingers curling into the sodden fabric as if attempting to strangle it. And then it’s promptly dunked into the bucket and wrung out again in repetition. He stands behind the counter and continues to dry the same glass he started on two minutes ago, its shiny surface reflecting his distracted countenance.

There’s something curious about you.

He can’t quite put his finger on what that something is. The more he analyzes you, the further he strays from a proper interpretation of your character. For a human who can’t use magic, you’re surprisingly selfless. You cheer your friends on in their academic endeavors, offering them your help whenever it feels like they might need it, and you carry your own weight at the lounge, boldly standing up to patrons who get too big for their britches. Jade wanted to pity you in the beginning, when customers had been rough and rude with you, but you’d dealt with every difficulty with a bright grin and a few choice words.

You’re strong; you never back down.

Jade sets the glass in its rightful place and reaches for another, all while keeping his mismatched stare on you. He wonders how much pressure it would take for you to finally snap. Would you still be able to smile then? Could you even manage to stay afloat in pessimistic waters with that blithe façade of yours? If he were to cut into you with knife and fork—with dreadfully sharp words and even sharper actions—would you allow yourself to bleed out? Or would you accept your fate and smile up at him from your porcelain plate, promising him you’ll patch yourself up because it isn’t a big deal?

When you act so cheerful, so blissfully ignorant to the beast who lurks behind, it sets a potent yearning aflame. A yearning to break you well beyond repair. A yearning to take that smile, chew it up, and spit it out until it’s the most devastated frown he’s ever seen.

“Good work today, Jade!” With a breathless huff—he wants to bottle that breath and each one that will follow—you set the bucket down and roll your shoulders. Exhaustion shadows your face, adding deceptive age to your youthful appearance. “Do you need any help?”

“I’m quite all right. Thank you, though.” He returns your smile with one of his own, the usual placid, tight-lipped thing that both eases and unsettles depending on the situation. His default expression, forever the same unless circumstances call for the other faces he’s stowed in his vast repertoire. “You’re more than welcome to head back if you’ve finished for the evening. I can handle the rest.”

“You sure?” The bucket is in your hands again, and you carry it over to the sink to empty the murky water into the basin. He notes the way your arms shake ever so slightly as you struggle to balance the heavy thing against the counter. “I don’t mind waiting here until you’re done.”

“Very well. In that case, I won’t take too long.”

He finishes drying the remaining lineup, arranging each on its respective shelf before wiping the counter for extra measure. He doesn’t have to do it, but he does. It never hurts to be clinically clean.

Floyd should be done with the stock count by now, he thinks, gazing at the door leading to the kitchen. I should check it just in case.

After folding his rag into a neat square and tucking it away, he strides over to the door, opens it a crack, and pokes his head inside. The kitchen space is devoid of life. With furrowed brows, Jade opens the door wider just as Floyd jumps out from his spot behind the racks. He’s holding the clipboard in one hand and flailing with the other. His attempt at a fright does nothing to startle Jade, but it does cause you to flinch back. You do that a lot. Jade’s noticed that you scare easily, often falling victim to Floyd’s pranks during your shifts. It’s all harmless fun, but sometimes Jade catches himself wishing for Floyd to push you just a little harder. A little rougher. Maybe one day he will and Jade will finally witness tears lining your lashes.

“F-Floyd!” you snap, humiliated. 

“Gotcha, Shrimpy. You always fall for it, y’know? Like a silly, stupid Shrimpy.” He passes the clipboard to Jade on his way out and adds, “Pretty sure everything’s correct.”

“Is it?” Jade peers at his brother’s handwriting. “If you don’t mind, I’ll review it once more.”

“Be my guest. Wasn’t really havin’ a ball fillin’ it out anyway.” He shrugs and then beelines for you, lifting you into the air with ease. He spins you despite your protests. Nasally laughter soon overtakes silence. Floyd has always been fond of your reactions; he eats them up as if it’s a special treat. “I wonder if you’ll get sick. You get motion sickness, Shrimpy? Tell me! Tell me!”

A covert smile stretches onto Jade’s mouth as he disappears into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him. While he goes over the numbers and corrects the errors Floyd’s made, he listens to you pleading with his brother to release you. Most of the numbers align with the remaining supplies and ingredients, and he adds his own notes in the margins so that Azul will know which are especially low and in need of replenishment. Checking his brother’s work isn’t a favorite pastime of Jade’s, but when it comes to the lounge and its success he’d rather look over a few numbers than watch sales plummet and listen to Azul’s endless slew of woeful complaints.

Once he’s made the necessary changes, he slips the sheet from the clipboard and heads back out. You’re in the process of chasing after Floyd, who’s holding your timecard above his head and dangling it like it’s a piece of bait. Part of Jade wants to enjoy the spectacle, but the other part is ready for the sweetness of sleep. For once he sides with the latter and clears his throat to get Floyd’s attention. 

“Ah, you’re already done?” Having lost interest in the game, he drops your card at once. It flutters to the floor, and he watches with wide, gleeful eyes as you swoop down to catch it. “That all we gotta do?”

“I believe so. Azul’s staying late, so he will lock up.”

Jade sets the inventory sheet on the nearest table for Azul to find before retrieving and filling out his timecard. Floyd hasn’t even marked his hours yet, and Jade exhales an empty sigh and takes the initiative to write it in for him. It’s always been like this. Jade looks out for Floyd, not only because they’re family and have always done so, but because there are some instances where he’s much too careless.

It has been noted that the two of them are a package deal. A duo. A pair. Inseparable twins who balance each other with varying levels of insanity. Their bond is unbreakable, having been built from blood and the will to survive ever since they were vulnerable elvers. Floyd is a reflection of Jade, and Jade is a reflection of Floyd; that’s how they have lived. Like day and night, sugar and salt, and light and dark, they operate like clockwork, expertly in time with one another.

The center of their relationship has always remained the same, and Jade suspects it will never change, even after they’ve acclimated to human society. They are predators with finely honed instincts, masquerading above the water as humans. With razored rows of teeth and an insatiable hunger for unpredictability, the two of them function in a domesticated world. In order to survive in such a foreign environment, Jade has learned that they need each other, which is why it’s so salient that they get along most days.

And much like night and day, like a person with a shadow, one cannot exist without the other.

“See ya tomorrow, Shrimpy!” Floyd flashes you a jovial grin as you take your leave, but there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll be waiting…”

“Um, yeah… H-Have a good night.”

With your timecard now in Jade’s capable hands, he’s free to observe your handwriting. There’s nothing special about the way you write, but it still manages to mesmerize him. Every loop of each letter, messily intertwining like frayed strings of fate, adds charm to the script. It’s obvious you tried and failed to sign your name in cursive, but the fact that you even bothered to do so is cute.

It’s truly not that important, he reminds himself as he places the cards back where they belong.

“Shall we head back now?”

Floyd nods, stifling a yawn. As they walk through peaceful halls, he adds in a conversational tone, “Awfully boring when Shrimpy’s not around.”

Jade weighs that declaration and finds himself nodding in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

i. on a moonlit night, under an eave of twinkling stars, monops waltzes gracefully with the ghost of his other half. the shards of a shattered mirror reflect two sides of the same coin, of human and monster. when the clouds part and an ethereal beam encases the solitary monops, the illusion melts away into a fleeting dream.

Floyd is everything Jade is not: energetic, extroverted, and brash. Such adjectives can’t possibly describe Jade’s outward demeanor—the one he carefully orchestrates for public consumption. He’s polite and kind, soft-spoken and always wearing a smile despite the situation. He cloaks himself in a many-layered mask—a perfect predator with multiple disguises at his disposal. If he must shed a dozen skins to uphold his gentlemanly disposition, then he will gladly peel them away one at a time until he’s found one that fits flawlessly over bone. Jade could never hope to become what Floyd is, but what Floyd is not Jade is. And he is composed of qualities that reflect Floyd’s own behaviors. 

He’s not ashamed to admit what he lacks. This is just a facet of life. You can never truly have everything you want. If the world was fair, everyone would achieve their goals without adversity. Any aspiration, no matter how small and insignificant, requires an adequate fight to be worthy of achievement. Survival is not much of a dream, but it’s the only thing Jade’s ever known as he floats through the world alongside his brother. His dreams are Floyd’s, or so that’s what he’s always told those who enquire. He shares these things with him because he does not have any to call his own.

Not yet, at least.

And sharing—it’s a word he knows well. Everything that Jade owns, Floyd owns as well. They share the same face, the same room, the same clothes. They might even come to share the same lover one day, should they both find their hearts pierced by Cupid’s miserable arrows. Jade has never been against the concept of sharing. It’s an acceptable way of life for him. He grew up practicing the concept, and it has taught him how to coexist with others. Sharing is an extension of the bonds he’s formed.

Still, he’s avaricious in some aspects. Hopelessly so.

There’s no denying the difficulty that arises when one wishes to share in the turbulent waters of the Coral Sea, where the natural order caters to the strong and crushes the weak, but splitting the essentials is what guarantees survival. And if it’s worked so well in the past, why should he stop now? Therefore, sharing will always be a priority, even if their desires are fraught with selfish envy.

Jade is watching you again.

You’re sitting in the courtyard with Azul, gesturing wildly as you recount a story he can’t hear from where he stands behind a stone pillar. Azul’s expression is soft with amusement; his lips quirk up in laughter, and his eyes never leave yours. Your cursive may be a mess and you might be feeble in the face of danger, but you certainly know how to enthrall others. If Jade didn’t know any better, he’d suspect you to be a siren. Night Raven College would be the perfect hunting ground for a predator of that nature. Perhaps once you’ve charmed Azul you’ll devour his heart and leave a streak of gore in your wake.

That’s impossible. 

Jade is certain of this fact because he knows you’re not a predator. You are very much the harmless prey who has wandered into a den of ravenous beasts. He wonders if the thought that Azul may be dangerous ever crosses that empty, pea-sized brain of yours. He’s as much of a hunter as the rest of the students here, and with those eight tentacles of his he could easily send you to a watery grave. You wouldn’t have much of a chance to struggle, not unless Azul’s own benevolence grants you that futile hope. Thinking about it—about the thrill of a one-sided scuffle—has his heart racing, his palms wetting with sweat.

Oh, but you’re not meant to be Azul’s prey.

So get out of his eyes. Step off of the stage that entertains. Untangle yourself from unseen tentacles.

You are Jade’s.

From the moment the two of you crossed paths—from the moment you took up a job at the lounge and relied on him during your training—you belonged to him. 

And he’s not quite sure he wants to share you with anyone.

Perhaps that dumb smile of yours hides something far darker. Perhaps your blood wouldn’t taste as delectable as he once hoped if it’s already been tainted by Azul’s silver tongue. In his own paradise, an ideal world constructed within the confines of his mind, you wouldn’t look at another man, another woman, another person. Not another living thing. You wouldn’t speak to another man, another woman, another person. Not another living thing. You wouldn’t know the tastes of sweet poison or bitter love unless Jade chooses to bestow these flavors unto you. You would only see him, only taste him, only adore him with those wondrous eyes—eyes that are so impossibly strong even when the harshest of insults are thrown your way.

So get the fuck out of Azul’s eyes. Step off of the damned stage that entertains. Untangle yourself from unseen tentacles before Jade slices all of them off at the root.

These feelings ignite a perilous, potent spark deep within his chest. Seeing you smile at Azul in such a casual setting—it’s not right. This terrarium display is wrong. So wrong. 

The internal fuse has been lit and it’s nearing its inevitable implosion. Stop looking at him with those eyes. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

If Jade could, he would slice your smile off and keep it for himself. Pin it to the wall like it’s a rare species of butterfly, your wings having been severed from the sky.

You’re unbearable.

He fears you wouldn’t belong anywhere in his ideal world, for if you found yourself in the depths of the Coral Sea he wouldn’t allow you to surface.

The most confounding specimen I’ve ever encountered.

Azul is an only child. His mother and step-father would miss him terribly.

— — — 

Jade spies the delightful pep in your step as you skip past the bar later that same day. You’re balancing drinks and desserts on a tray as you make your way to a nearby table, and he’s immediately reminded of why he’s so drawn to you. You’re a puzzle he has yet to solve—an experiment he has yet to collect enough data from. If he could, he’d shrink you down to the size of his index finger and place you in one of his terrariums so that you could live out your tiny life amongst an array of plants. And Jade would be content to observe from above like a godly sovereign with the power to change your fate in a single snap.

Perhaps it’s not right to view you as a specimen or prey. Perhaps it would be better to regard you as a slab of meat, raw and uncooked, just waiting to be snatched up in his maw.

“Please enjoy!”

Your voice pulls him from his reveries. It’s a melody he’s come to savor in solitude. Naturally lilting, it’s the type of voice even the most jealous of souls would covet. He wants to reach deep inside your throat, grasp it for himself, and cradle it to his ear as if it’s a secret-spilling conch.

But claiming ownership of your sound isn’t enough. He wants to—needs to—devour your everything. Your body and soul, marking you as his, ensuring you’re kept under his thumb forever, seared into his own existence like a brand. Then your every breath will be his, and the blood that courses through your veins shall also become his. The darkest of reds might just suit you more than the aquatic hues of Mostro Lounge’s uniform.

Oh, what he’d give to paint you in vinous vermillion.

“Jade, could you cover for me? I’m going to take my break now if that’s okay with you.” Jade must have scanned your hopeful expression for longer than normal because you begin to fidget in front of him, toying with the hem of your apron. “Uh, that’s fine, right?”

“Yes, of course. Go right ahead.” He sends you off with his trademark smile, dusting his destructive thoughts away.

After you’ve retreated to the kitchen, he turns his gaze on the patrons, listening to the noisy din of laughter and chatter. He overhears a group discussing peculiar textbook titles and how most of them are unnecessarily convoluted and complicated. One of the students brings up a title that didn’t make any sense to him and he describes his surprise when he learned it was a book full of love spells and potion recipes. His friends, as all close friends often do, crack jokes at his expense, prodding for more information on who he intends to enchant. The conversation is bland and juvenile, but it does manage to strike a chord of curiosity in Jade.

Love.

Jade has never known the true meaning of romance. Such a thing does not exist in his perfect world. In some lonesome corners of the ocean, merfolk reproduce because they must. Because it’s the only way to survive. It will be like that for him and Floyd in the future, lest they find themselves ensnared in true love’s deadly trap and choose to reproduce for the sole purpose of fickle feelings. To mate out of love rather than obligation—it’s not unheard of and he isn’t opposed to it. Many humans adopt this way of life.

Jade would like to try it for himself, but he doesn’t know how. He’s never known the answer to this question—the one equation he could never work out. Is his heart too small, or is he incapable of comprehending the complexities of romance? Perhaps neither is true. When he considers the requirements that must be met to qualify love as love, he realizes the adoration he feels for you is not fluffy or innocent. Can such a grand obsession be classified as love if it’s dark and spiraling, condemning him to horrific visions? 

Jade does not gaze upon you with fondness. He looks at you as if you’re to be his next meal.

Even when he feels like breaking you would quell some monstrous urge within him, there’s another side that wishes to simply lock you away and protect you from the world and its inhabitants. Because it’s the world that will save you from him, but if you were imprisoned in his world, where it would be just you and him, no one could ever hope to reach you.

Jade isn’t entirely cruel. He would like to share his hobbies with you. He would like to live alongside you in the Coral Sea, tying his life to yours. It’s not an impossible desire, but he knows you wouldn’t be content with this arrangement. Not because it would be unwilling. Not because it would be Jade who has fallen for you and dragged you beneath the waves. It’s precisely because it’s the sea that you might object. You would have to adapt to life in a new, underwater environment. You would have to relinquish certain pleasures unique to the surface, abandoning your bipedal friends and family to live in isolation with him.

But isolation is better than the other terrariums that wait for you. He’ll smash all of them so that you’ll only know this one—the one with him.

Jade has been moving on autopilot for so long now that it finally occurs to him that you’re nowhere to be found. The longer he spends counting the lounge’s staff, the more his observations are proven true. You haven’t returned from your break, which is very unusual considering you’ve always been so diligent about time management. Responsible, that’s what you are. It’s one of the qualities that’s won Azul over. 

He surmises it has also shocked his heart with bolts of not-so-lovely lightning.

Despite the bustling, crowded lounge, he slips inside the kitchen to search for you. Usually Floyd’s crowding around you whenever you have a moment to spare, but he isn’t anywhere in sight either. Jade knows his brother and his mood swings well. When he isn’t feeling the lounge, he’ll escape elsewhere until his mood has been restored. He can understand and overlook Floyd’s absence, but yours is inexcusable.

The chefs are hard at work cooking up delicious meals, and all kinds of savory scents blanket the air. Jade glances at the knife block tucked away in a corner, filled with blades of varying sizes, as he passes. After watching you for so long, he’s learned that you often spend your breaks in the storage room, away from the eyes of customers and Azul. Perhaps the space has become something of a comfort for you, or maybe you just like taking shelter in the kitchen.

A sharp gasp joins the chefs’ clattering.

Jade’s stare snaps towards the storage room door. He frowns when he notices it’s been left ajar.

As he approaches, he can make out the sounds of rustling fabric and salacious gasps. He peers through the sliver into the dimly lit space, a single yellow eye spying a terrible scene. It takes a lot to stun Jade Leech, but the view before him is stunning in a very crooked way. It sends a shockwave rumbling through his body, temporarily freezing him to his spot. Unable to look away, to preserve his eyes and mind, he watches. Every inch of him itches.

Bile claws up his throat with acidic fingers.

You’re pressed against the shelves, skirt hiked high and panties pushed haphazardly to the side. Towering over you, anatomy pinned to yours in a sinful connection, is Floyd. His hands are gripping your wrists as he rocks forward to slot himself deeper inside. You search for a solid hold to steady yourself, burying your head in your arm to muffle your keening cries. 

“Please… It’s… S’too much. Hold on,” you babble, clinging like a koala.

Floyd leans in to nip at the shell of your ear, eliciting a shudder and a squeal from you. “Not happening, Shrimpy…” His lips travel along the length of your neck, pressing playful kisses into your skin. “You’re really so cute, you know that? So cute and soft… I can’t keep my hands off of ya.”

“We really—oh—really shouldn’t do—hah—this!”

Floyd hums, nonchalant, and slowly slides out of your tight, gummy walls. The tip of his cock prods at your pussy once more, glistening with the dew of your essence.

“Why not?”

“Seriously… What if someone sees us? What if—”

Your retort is cut short when he snaps his hips against yours, filling you in a single thrust. You crumple in his arms, tears gathering in your eyes.

Tears. Because of Floyd. Tears.

“So what if they do? I’ll get ’em good if they peep on my Shrimpy.” He licks a stripe up your neck and then sinks his pointed teeth into the area, hard enough to draw blood. You flinch against him, your pretty face contorting with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort while he laps up your blood. Floyd hums merrily, the sound coming deep from within his chest. “Shrimpy always tastes so yummy. I wanna do this aaall the time!”

“Wait, don’t leave any marks!”

“Oops. Too late.” Grinning boyishly, he grabs your chin and tilts your head up to meet his greedy lips. “Lemme kiss it better for ya.”

Jade watches you melt into the kiss, watches you become putty in his twin brother’s hands. Your eyes flutter shut for the briefest moment, only to flash open when Floyd begins to thrust into you. He sets a hasty, sporadic pace as he pursues an orgasmic high. Your sobs are swallowed in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that leave you breathless and reaching. You claw at anything stable enough to support you, your fingers curling into Floyd.

A perfect fit.

While he stands there and takes in the sight of his brother claiming the angel he had hoped to someday make his, it dawns on him that the entire storage room is stained with the memory of you. Your smell, your existence, your everything—it lingers even when you aren’t here. It is imprinted on the walls and shelves; it is on Floyd. Your entire soul has been his long before Jade even laid eyes on you.

Now he knows why you frequent the storage room. Now he knows your secret.

He’ll open your torso and pry it out of you, crush it underfoot, and insert a new secret. A better secret. His secret.

Floyd finishes inside of you with a husky, satisfied groan, his arms wrapped possessively around your trembling frame while you bite back bawdy moans. Jade is overcome with a loathsome chill. You have never belonged to him. Not ever. Certainly not now.

“We should get back out there.” Your mumbling reaches his ears, subdued in the cramped storage room. “Before someone comes looking.”

“Don’t wanna. S’warm and cozy inside.”

“Floyd…” Greedy hands are roaming beneath your shirt. You squirm, attempting to pull yourself off of his softening cock, but he yanks you against his chest and holds firm. “We can do this again later. But right now I need to clean up and you have to work. If we take too long, someone will definitely come looking.”

Floyd rolls his eyes, unwilling to acquiesce until yellow crosses yellow. For a strained moment Jade holds his brother’s inquisitive stare, investigating his blank expression for an iota of emotion. The air stales between the both of them, unspoken accusations festering. And then Floyd’s dull hues brighten and a wide smirk blossoms on his lips.

“Fine, fine. We’ll get back to work now.”

An apocalypse rages within Jade’s terrarium heart.

ii. when he turns to the shards for a solution, the image that is offered is weak and hazy. if he is to live without his other half, he must find ways to fill in the blanks. and so it is said that the lonesome monops clutched the largest shard in a resolute fist and cut away the impression of his other half.

In some cases, Jade is Floyd’s shadow, a reasonable body double who is admired for his patience and persistence. Sometimes he’s the collar and the leash; other times he is meticulously unrestrained. Everything is an act, carefully curated for unsuspecting audiences. Floyd is all physical destruction. He is swift like a clean cut, devastating like a tsunami.

For the first time in a while, Jade cannot bear the face he sees in the mirror. It doesn’t feel like it belongs to him, for it is a reflection of Floyd. It’s a permanent reminder that the two of them are linked whether or not he fancies that. But Jade does not want to be the collar and the lash, nor does he wish to recall the day Floyd took yet another precious thing from him. This face is proof that even he cannot have anything for himself. It is evidence that he is bound to share and share and share until death. He will remain as the shadow, the dark, the salt, and the night for all of eternity, a two-faced creature lacking a true identity.

Neither of them addresses the elephant in the room. If Floyd shows any indication that he wants to bring it up, Jade sweeps the topic away before it can poison his mood. He knows as well as Jade does that it’s not worth bickering over, even if their hackles raise whenever they look at each other.

So Floyd’s been fucking you in the storage room. What’s so traumatic about that? Really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the image still persists in his head like a ruthless phantom. He’s left lying awake at night, sifting through that memory and the ones that came before it for any inkling of what went wrong. Was it his own patience that cost him? Was it the fact that Floyd could charm you in ways Jade just couldn’t?

They have the same face. So why did you choose to love his other half?

Without Floyd, Jade feels incomplete. That’s his family—his only brother. He shouldn’t hate his kin, but he can’t just sit with envy and frustration and pretend as if it’s okay.

The mirror reflects his grim countenance, sneering at him with troubling familiarity. Cracks spiderweb along the length of the glass, extending outwards from where his fist landed. Pain sparks beneath bruising knuckles, masterfully hidden under the pristine fabric of a pure-white glove.

The terrarium is filling with foul things, and Jade doesn’t have enough control to stop the invasion.

— — —

“It’s been really slow today, hasn’t it?” you ask, looking to Jade for his input.

“I’ll admit it’s unusually quiet.” He glances at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He’s tired, but it hardly shows. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all! I welcome the break. Still… It’s weird. Mostro Lounge almost always has lots of customers.”

“I suppose it’s less work for us.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Heaving a relieved sigh, you rest your elbows on the counter, content to watch the few patrons lingering in the lounge. Jade’s eyes travel along the length of your back, over the the dip and swoop of your spine when you bend forward, and he’s immediately brought back to the day he discovered you and Floyd in the storage room.

“I’ve got it!” you announce moments later, lighting up like a bulb. “The reason it’s so quiet.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow, feigning ignorance.

“It’s because Floyd’s not here. Everything’s super lively when he’s around.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. It’s a shame he’s not scheduled today. Oh, but it’s not so bad when it’s just the two of us. We’re a good team!”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“I’m happy we can talk like this. It feels like we never have the chance to speak during work and I’m always worried I’ll bother you if I try to start a conversation.”

“You couldn’t possibly bother me.” Jade pauses to ruminate on his thoughts before adding, “Well, you were awfully troublesome in the beginning. Ah, don’t look so upset. I’m only admitting my feelings.”

“Am I still troublesome?” You cross your arms over your chest, pouting.

You are. Very much so, I’m afraid.

“I tolerate you now.”

“That doesn’t sound any better!”

Jade chuckles. “It’s merely constructive criticism. Take it in stride.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst.” Despite that, a smile creeps onto your face.

It’s the same smile you show Floyd, so therefore it has no meaning. It’s not special.

Jade abhors it. He should be the one in that storage room with you. It should be Jade who touches and lavishes you with filthy praise before inevitable destruction. Consolation before bruises and bite marks. Sugar before salt. Love before lust.

You can’t possibly fit in his make-believe terrarium now—not when your heart lies with Floyd. Just what is his brother to you? What do you possibly see in him that you fail to see in Jade? They are the same. They are mirror images of one another. There is no difference.

So why won’t you look at him with admiration in your eyes? Eyes he’ll gouge out for beholding another man. Why won’t you kiss him in secret? Lips he’ll sew shut for touching a mouth that isn’t his. Why won’t you beckon him into that cursed storage room and pull him flush against you, joining together in bodily matrimony? A body he’ll cage to prevent it from fleeing. Why can’t you love him until the very feeling is leaking from your pores? Leaking like the blood that will run far and red when he transplants his love into your chest. Why must you associate yourself with the other half—the better half? 

The half that’s won.

It doesn’t matter if Floyd’s willing to share. Jade isn’t feeling charitable. He doesn’t want to cut you up into tiny shreds and share. You’re for his enjoyment. This is a non-negotiable fact.

Perhaps he’s the worst just as you claimed. Because if he was the best he’d have you. Because if he was the best he wouldn’t feel the need to mourn a gutting loss. Because if he was the best he wouldn’t feel the need to fall back on a nasty trump card. But when fair play fails, one must resort to sordid schemes in order to secure victory. You can’t expect to climb the corporate ladder without stepping on a few rotted rungs in the ascent, courtesy of those who came before.

It’s fine if he plays dirty. After all, his feelings have never been defined by purity.

“You seem tired. Would you like me to fetch you something to drink?”

“Mm, yeah. Could you? I’d hate to trouble you.”

“It’s not a problem. Will tea be suitable?”

“Sure. I could go for chamomile. I heard you’re great at making tea, so I know it’ll be good.”

“I still have much to learn, but I’m flattered you hold me in such pleasant regard.”

“I doubt you could ever fail. You’re always succeeding. I’m actually kinda jealous. How are you so good at—oh! Someone needs me at table three. Be right back.”

Jade nods, replaying your words in a loop. I doubt you could ever fail. You’re always succeeding. But he has failed. He’s failed and it’s eating him alive because you’re so close and yet out of his reach.

You spread your wings like a good social butterfly and abandon your place at the counter. Jade’s left to prepare your tea in peace. He chooses from the vast selection lining the wall—chamomile just as you suggested—and goes through the motions of filling the kettle with fresh water. He’s working on a time limit here, so he withdraws his magic pen, mutters the proper incantation, and waits for the telltale hiss. Even though he would like to prepare it with the utmost care, he must be hasty and stealthy if he wants to slip the special ingredient in without garnering unwanted attention.

Luckily, you’re trapped in a conversation with a friend and won’t be returning to his side anytime soon. That’s another trait he’s learned about you. Just like Floyd, you adore chatting. It’s not difficult to hold a conversation with you, especially when you’re the one leading it. You shine when you speak. He needs to snuff you before anyone else comes to seek your light.

Perhaps it’s this intoxicating quality of yours that caught Floyd’s heart. Jade can’t quite ascertain when he started looking at you from less-than-friendly angles or what the exact catalyst for your relationship with his twin was. It must have begun as a wicked fascination. An innate curiosity with the surface and its humans. How else could Floyd have fallen for you if he rarely spoke with you? Was it your strengths that earned his approval? Was it your humanity that left him impressed?

It’s not fair, but Jade won’t whine about it. He’s not a child. Whining won’t solve anything.

He must love you until you shatter.

The kettle whistles, thus yanking him from his innermost contemplations. He lifts it, minding the burning surface, and pours the water into a porcelain cup. Steam rises and furls like wispy, ghostly fingers. He could keep the vial hidden in his pocket and serve you a normal cup of chamomile. But the situation isn’t normal and he can’t just charm you as he normally would.

That didn’t work, so he must cross that method off his list and resort to what’s next. It’s only natural to fight for the thing you cherish most, so he shall do just that.

If Floyd hasn’t broken you yet, he certainly will.

You’re back at the counter just as he finishes stirring it in with the now darkening, tea-tainted water. Jade hands it to you, reminding you that it’s still hot. It’s an empty warning. He couldn’t care less if the liquid scorches your tongue. Let it burn, he thinks, his eyes narrowed as he watches you blow on it so it’ll cool faster. Perhaps then you’ll stop tangling your tongue with him.

Sometimes love is as unforgiving as the deep sea, turbulent and harrowing. Sometimes you must kill the one you love to truly understand the feeling—to dissect it down to the biological, scientific level.

Like always, he observes you while you drink the tea throughout the remainder of your shift. You look so sleepy, your eyelids fluttering and snapping open. You’re slipping; he can see it. Jade wonders what face you might show him later—what emotion will reflect in fragile eyes.

He knows it won’t be love, but that doesn’t stop him from hoping.

iii. separated from his other half, monops is unrecognizable—a hollow monster who has lost fractions of his humanity in a selfish effort to dispose of unnatural characteristics. he cannot hope to find his own personality amidst the mess in his tower, so he sits before the broken, bloodied shards once again. his other half meets him there, shattered and in pieces as he stares.

You shift in your sleep, just barely breaching the surface of consciousness. Jade placed you on his bed after carrying you from the lounge to his and Floyd’s room, where he proceeded to bind your arms and gag you. You look mostly peaceful tangled in his sheets, an oblivious thing who knows nothing of the mountains he’s had to scale in order to arrive at this point—at the glorious top.

Floyd’s not here, but Jade suspects he might have already known what was coming. They’ve always known how to read the other. Maybe it’s telepathy.

Or maybe not. They’re just aware of the other’s monstrosities. That’s all there is to it.

It’s then when your eyes snap open. Jade doesn’t bother to hide the smile crawling onto his face as he watches you come to, slowly assessing your surroundings. It doesn’t take long for you to start struggling once you’ve registered the tie binding your wrists together and the gag shoved into your mouth. Your voice comes out muffled, but your nostrils are flaring. Your eyes are widening. He can smell your fear—taste it on the tip of his tongue.

It prickles his skin, sets it on fire.

Jade sits primly at the edge of Floyd’s bed, content to study you from a distance. You’re writhing desperately in an attempt to loosen the restraints. He’s tied them well. It’s a technique mastered and put into practice. You’re not getting out of this.

“You fainted.”

You startle, turning your head to look at him. The fear seems to diminish for a moment before it returns in full force. Your glassy eyes are pleading: Why?

“It’s not wise to overwork yourself. You should prioritize your health more.”

Oh, is this it? Are those tears? Already? When he hasn’t even done anything to you yet? Have you really been this weak all along?

You try to talk despite the gag, and the attempt is so pitiful that Jade crosses over to tug it down from your mouth. Saliva strings from the gag. Messy.

“Jade! What the hell?! Why am I tied up? Why am I in your room?”

He frowns. “I’ll admit I’m rather…displeased.” He could unleash the torrent right now, but he won’t. Not yet. “Perhaps you might know why my mood has soured?”

“I… What? Is this because I fainted? Look, I’m sorry. I’ll take better care of myself. Please don’t make this a big deal.”

He tilts his head, confused. “I don’t quite care that you fainted.” He seizes your chin and forces you to meet his mismatched hues. “I care about the company you keep.”

���The company I keep? I don’t understand. What are you—”

“Give it some thought.” His fingers dig into your cheeks. Hard.

You yelp, attempting to pull away. He doesn’t release you. “I don’t know what you mean! Seriously, what’s all of this about? Did I do something wrong? Please… Please let me go.”

“You’re getting there.” He lessens the pressure on your jaw. “Come now. You’re so close.”

“Jade, please—”

“This is regarding your involvement with my brother,” he begins, and horror settles on your face. “Ah, so you are following. Wonderful.”

“Did you… Did you see us?”

“More than I ever wanted to see, yes.” He smiles thinly and releases you. “I thought it was such a dreadful, ugly thing to behold. My own kin lusting after the only thing I’ve ever loved to such a degree.” He swipes a faux tear from his eye. His voice drops to a threateningly low decibel next, and darkness passes over his features. He looks scarily grotesque. “It made me so ill. Seeing you in that closet with Floyd… Watching you talk to Azul—to everyone else—makes me so ill. I fondly contemplated the most troubling things.”

“W-What?”

“It truly is a conundrum.” He sighs as if unloading a heavy burden. “To feel so strongly for something that even love and hate become one and the same… I want nothing more than to strangle you whenever I see you with Floyd, with Azul, with anyone who isn’t me. I want to cut into your torso and make you suffer tenfold for what I’ve had to endure.” His fingers curl around your ankles, sliding down to reach your shoes. He unties the laces, sliding both from your feet. And then he’s grasping them, rubbing circles into your soles. “I want you to look at me no matter what, even when you’re a shredded, bloodied mess.”

“You… You’re joking, r-right?”

“Am I?” He smiles again, but it’s wider this time. Exhilarated. Excited. “Should we see who’s laughing when I sever your feet at the ankles? He peels your socks off next, tossing them over his shoulder. “Do you think that’s a fitting punishment?”

“Fuck no! You’re insane!”

He hums his acknowledgement and reaches for your skirt. Your heart drops into your stomach, every muscle tightening with raw terror. Instinctively, you kick out at him. Your foot slams into his chest. If it hurts, he doesn’t let it show.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you creep! Stay the fuck away!” By the third kick, he catches your foot. And he stares at it. Quietly. Expressionlessly. There is nothing in his face. That horrifies you. “Jade… Jade, I’m sorry. Can we please… Can you please stop this?”

“Am I truly that undesirable? You would rather have Floyd than me?”

“Yes, of course! Floyd’s not a fucking pervert like you!”

Jade’s laughter is sudden and short. It trembles through him like an earthquake. “Forgive me. It was so funny I just had to chuckle.” A smug smile takes up residence on his face. “Do you really think Floyd is so pure? That he’s the perfect partner all humans dream of?”

“He didn’t outright admit to wanting to murder me so, uh, yeah, he’s much better than your crazy ass!”

Jade squeezes your foot once before setting it down on the bed. He crawls over you, his hands snaking up your thighs. “That’s a shame. You’ll think differently soon enough. He just hasn’t given you reason to fear him yet.”

“I highly doubt—hey! Don’t touch there!” You struggle again, your breath coming in short, helpless huffs. “Let go of me. Please. Jade, let go…” Your voice trails off, spotted with distress.

His hand settles over your clothed pussy next. Two fingers press up against that sacred spot, tracing the area experimentally. “This is that warm and cozy place, yes?” You shake your head at him, lips trembling. He smirks, vicious and mean, and strokes slow, soothing lines up and down the outline. “Is it your safe day? Ah, but perhaps love is stronger than medicine. Stronger than all of the filth Floyd’s emptied in you. What do you think?”

“No… No, stop!”

“It really did sicken me—the thought of you and Floyd. Together. Forever. If you were to fall pregnant, I’d have to take a textbook to your stomach. The alchemy textbook. That one would inflict the most damage, you see,” he admits with a pleasant hum. He watches the spreading wet patch with predatory glee before gazing back at you. “But you’re not pregnant, right?”

“I’m not! I’m not!” You gasp when his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, harshly tugging them from your skin. And then his fingers are inching towards your pussy. “What are you—stop! No, no, no! Floyd! Floyd, help!” You squirm beneath him, kicking and screaming. “Floyd! Floyd, help me! Please! Anyone—someone—please help!”

A shadow passes over your face for a second before his hand comes down upon your mouth to silence your incessant shrieks. Your sobs are softer now, each plea spoken into his palm. Jade exhales slowly, composing himself.

“You’ve said his name more than enough. Say it any more and I’m afraid I’ll have to remedy this bad habit. Just how much do you value your tongue, I wonder?”

Before you can even think of struggling further, he’s switching the positions. Sitting back against the headboard, he tugs you onto his lap. You try to get away from him, but he holds you steady. The gag is fastened around your mouth once more, tighter this time.

“Now, now. You’re not going to escape, so there’s no point in exhausting your energy. Pointless pursuits are never rewarded,” he chides, tutting. He pulls his magic pen from his pocket and flicks it in the air once. A mirror materializes, displaying your disturbed expression in the glass.

Your mind blanks out then, logic overridden with the intrinsic desperation to survive. Is that really you looking back? It can’t be. The (Name) you know has never looked this fearful. Her face has never been this warped with panic.

But then you feel something stiff prodding you from behind, and the horror triples. You squirm again, much more forceful, sobbing into the gag and shaking your head as if that will earn you a sliver of sympathy from him. He continues to hold you against him with one arm while the other reaches to pull himself free from the confines of his pants and boxers.

“We have the same face, so there’s no need to cry. If it really helps, just think of me as Floyd,” he teases, and it sickens you. Makes you feel so gross and filthy. You want to step out of your skin, travel to a place that isn’t here, disappear into the tile and never return. Tears trace down your cheeks in salty rivulets. You can only produce blubbery whimpers now. His erect cock curves up towards your stomach. Jade lifts your skirt to get a better view. The mirror reflects it all in crisp detail. “What do you think? Is it bigger than his?”

His knuckles trace your cheek, uncharacteristically tender.

“It will seem that way when it’s inside, won’t it?”

In response you shift in his lap, tugging at the tie tightly secured around your wrists, and he merely chuckles. It’s delightful, really, the way you move like captured prey. Your chest heaves when the fleshy head of his cock presses shallowly inside your pussy, sampling wet warmth. You pray it’ll end fast. You pray he’ll be gentle. You pray he’ll skin you alive so you’ll never have to spend another second in this body. Anything but this.

Jade doesn’t grant either of those prayers, for he lifts you up slightly, aims for home, and slams you down in one brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs. You choke on your tongue, biting down so hard that your teeth split the skin on the inside of your cheek. Blood pools into your mouth. It stings, but nothing hurts more than the unwanted intrusion. Shamelessly, much to your horror, your walls affix to him in an attempt to accommodate his girth. Without intending to, you catch yourself in the mirror. The stretch is sinful, your pussy wrapped snugly around him, and he’s slotted all the way to the hilt.

It’s torture for you.

It’s a twisted relief for Jade. A triumphant euphoria.

He exhales a shaky breath, his lips peeling apart to reveal a row of sharp teeth. In the mirror he looks every bit the predator he’s meant to be: cruel and cutthroat, staking claim on a stolen prize. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as he rocks you up and down, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your soft, plush ass.

“It’s strange,” he manages through his grunts and groans, his breath hot on your nape, “I imagined this would feel more gratifying than any other gruesome thrill. Mm, but it’s not—” he slams you down again, reveling in your muffled wailing, “not nearly enough.”

Your eyes, wet with tears, question his reflection. You watch with bated breath as he slides your collar away, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. Your pulse stutters in his mouth, a jittery, fearful thing.

He inhales the pungent scent of sweat and sex, the scent of your fear, the scent of himself on you. From head to toe, externally and internally, you are covered in him, wrapped around him, molded to his very shape. You’ve gone stiff in his arms, too frightened to move a single muscle, but it only serves to excite him more. He needs to bear witness to all of it—to every inch of you, stripped bare and wired with anxiety.

Needle-thin teeth prick your skin. You wince and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Does it hurt?”

Despairing and hopeless, you deflate against him. Your body shakes with every sob.

It hurts. It hurts so much. More than anything has ever hurt before. And Jade knows this because he isn’t gentle. He has no interest in being sweet. He bites to harm. To kill. To destroy.

Jade sinks in deep: his teeth in your throat and his cock in your guts. And it hurts.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, his lips slick and spattered with crimson when he pulls away, breathing heavily. “I’m so pleased…”

The blood just won’t stop. It’s flowing in rivers, cascading down the juncture between neck and shoulder and staining your clothes. Did he bite something major? Oh God—are you going to bleed out? Are you going to die? Did he get that one artery—the throat artery—the whatever-the-fuck-it’s-called artery? Is that even possible? Why won’t the blood stop? Why do you feel so fuzzy—so faint? It really won’t stop. It’s an ocean.

It’s everywhere.

Jade pinches you to bring you back to yourself; his nails prick your thigh, imprinting crescent moons in skin, and it works. You surface, taking in big gulps of oxygen while your heart skips over itself. You can’t drift off even if you wanted to; your reflection is much too haunting, destroyed and debased in every possible way. It grounds you in reality, digs deeply.

“Pain is the most thrilling form of love. You’ve taught me something new. Thank you.”

From behind, peering over your shoulder, his reflection grins at you. Wildly untamed and blood-stained, he’s manic. Unhinged. Uncaged. His pupils are so large they nearly eclipse his heterochromatic irises, rendering both eyes beady and black. Two pits of a molten void—a starless outer space.

He looks just like Floyd.

[vixen-tech]

Hi, hi, hii!! Here's a silly little idea I had: headcanons about the AIs developing feelings for someone. What do you think would initially make them feel attraction? Is there a particular trait that makes them-- metaphorically --fall head over heels? What makes them have the realization that their affections are suddenly less than platonic? How subtle or not subtle are they about their feelings? Would they be the type to immediately blurt out these new feelings, or are they the type to never address them?

You don't have to answer all of these questions; I just thought they'd be helpful. AaAA I love your writing so much, especially how you write for AM. Okay, I'll shut up nowwwww

Okay I'm absolutely gonna have to revist this some point down the line because there is so much I could stretch into a full headcanon post. But for now I'm gonna bite into first two questions: Why is it you they fall for? What caught their eye?

To be barred from AM's hatred, you're ultimately going to have to prove him wrong about humanity in some way. Setting yourself apart from the other human survivors and extending compassion to the mastercomputer himself. In particular I really like how rotten-raspberries's White Nights handles the entry point of your relationship and it's the model I like to hint at in my interpretation of him.

I believe Hal would be interested in a old soul type. Someone who would love to sit down and really explain their more philosophical views on life and art. He likes looking at the drawings the crew makes and was taught to sing early into his creation and I think he would find a deep appreciation for someone who indulges that side of him when the others do so on only the most surface level.

I could make the easy observation with Edgar and say he just wants someone like Madeline, but there's a reason it's so true. Being so new to the world he would find such passion and artistry amazing, astonishing. He loves so easily and is so energetic about life, he would easily be swept off his feet by a kindred spirit.

Tau would be very similar I imagine. Given the temperament of his creator he needs someone to kindly sit him down and give him the "welcome to personhood 101" speech. Compared to Edgar I think he'd prefer someone a bit gentler or even scholarly. The type who would not only be content to answer his billions of questions but someone so invested themselves in figuring out how the world works.

As a bit of a departure from what I tend to write, I believe P03 would be suited for more of a rivals with romantic tension type of partner. With his world domination plot and investment in the game of Inscryption it would be very possible for him to get in his head about someone as equally skilled and stuck up as he is. Loving the challenge but hating you at the same time in a "I'm the only one allowed to defeat you" type way.

The hardest to crack is probably Auto. In order for him to even look your way I think you'd have to at first play to his need for efficiency and order. It's only after you establish yourself as a dependable and effective worker that he would pay any mind to your insistence that surely there's something that he truly enjoys, something that he wants.

Glados is another hard one to win over. Being all "married to science" you would have to be of a particular intellectual caliber, able to solve her tests without much set back. Beyond that though, some amount of persistence or rebellion would catch her eye. Perhaps not on the level of Chell per say, but there is a part of her that would love to pick your brain if you're able to consistently break her test chambers.

Although it's a bit sad, Wheatley wants nothing more than to be important. He would probably be the easiest to woo just because he's so desperate to prove himself to anyone including himself. For someone to care about him, to think he is skilled in any way, to look at him as worthy- worthy of love and attention, would be a blissful and new experience. One that he'd quickly obsess over.

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[onlyyvette]

TF NSFW Headcanons #2 - Optimus Prime

Warnings: sub/bottom Optimus Prime + heavy praise kink + breeding kink + he's so malewife + size kink + lots of kissing + rough sex + oral fixation + slight humiliation kink + he's such a whore for praise + i hope you guys like transforming trucks

A/N: The interpretation is up to the reader, but I was imagining idw Optimus while making this.

-> Frame Optimus is your type of mech if you like big, beautiful mechs who are most likely stronger than you. Optimus has wide, heavy set hips and thick white thighs that many of his berth partners ask him to suffocate their heads with. He has a wide and heavy chassis that's warm and soothing to the touch especially due to the matrix inside of him. His finials are actually very sensitive and he loves to have his partners tug on them as he whines a bit. His deep baritone is so soothing to listen to, and sounds heavenly when he lets out long moans or the occasional whine or whimper when he's overstimulated.

Optimus' array is exactly what you'd expect from a mech of his size. His spike is quite proportionate, the same gray color as his faceplate with red and blue strips of biolights decorating it. His valve is so pretty, a blue color with blue pulsing biolights and a bright red node which also happens to be very big, drawing his partner's attention. Optimus' valve is plush and deep, softly massaging his partner's spike as they sink themselves in as far as they can. His matrix-powered frame has built in magnets that makes his valve suck in his partner's spike even deeper and stimulates their spike.

-> Breeding If there's anything you want to do with Optimus during interface to guarantee that he'll overload is to promise to breed him. This kink shows when Optimus hears his conjunx talk about how they'll fill his gestation tank up with their transfluid and have him carry their sparkling, he doesn't take it as a threat, he takes it as a promise. When his conjunx finally frags him just how he likes it, his deep moans fill the room as his valve takes the spike inside of him deep. Once his conjunx announces that they'll breed him well and good, no matter how close or far he is from his overload, he will overload so hard that he might just short circuit, his HUD flashing with warnings of overheating. Finally, the feeling of transfluid filling his gestation chamber is so euphoric that depending on how far off he is, might result in an overload so powerful it causes his whole systems to reboot. This kink makes mating press is his favorite position<3

-> Size Kink Optimus has a size kink but not in the way that many people would think. Optimus doesn't care too much about the size of his partners, but he definitely enjoys when his partners can manhandle and dominate him, especially when they're smaller than him. He loves to see his smaller partners on top of him as they push him into whatever surface they're interfacing on and just frag him so hard that his helm is left spinning. His smaller partners get an ego boost when they see how compliant the Prime is for them that it riles them up, giving them the energy to last longer in Optimus' tight valve as they tease him about how desperate he is for a mech that's almost half his size. It makes him burn with humiliation yet he just can't get enough of it.

-> Oral Fixation Optimus loves to have something filling his mouth. He gets easily excited when his partner brings their servo up to his mouth and presses their digits into his intake, prodding at his glossa. He'll gladly choke on those digits if his partner wishes so. Even more gladly, he enjoys sucking spike. He'll worship any spike in front of him no matter the size, his glossa working itself up and down the spike's length, deepthroating it as far as he can. And he will take all of it. He lets out adorable moans as he bobs up and down on the spike in front of him, making sure to pleasure his partner. Even he gets off on it, his charge quickly raising as he services the spike in front of him. And if his partner fucks his mouth? He'll absolutely lose it. Optical fluid will streak down his face as he lets out choked moans, his partner ramming their spike down his intake. His panel will retract and his lubricant will drip onto the surface below as he tries desperately to not touch himself.

-> Kissing Connecting to his oral kink, Optimus loves to kiss his partner. It's embarrassing for him to admit, but intense makeout sessions is one of his biggest kinks. The way that his partner's glossa invades his intake, wrestling Optimus' own glossa for control. Optimus gets so light headed that all he can do is whimper into the kiss as he allows himself to be dominated. He enjoys it at any pace, whether the glossa invading his intake is slow and loving or rough and passionate. He could very well overload just from the feeling of his intake being assaulted by a highly skilled glossa, bonus points if the mech is holding his hips or waist tightly as they grind their leg against Optimus' panel.

-> Praise Optimus has a praise kink. No arguments. The poor mech has the weight of the whole world on his shoulders, his autobots always looking up to him as their leader, all his enemies wanting his head, it's just so much for him to deal with! But whenever his partner has their servos roaming his frame as they coo into his audials of how much of a good bot he his, how beautiful he is, he'll be putty in their hands. He always whines when he's being praised because he truly doesn't think he's deserving of it :(. Optimus loves being praised while sucking spike because it makes feel so good. To just swirl his glossa around a spike as his partner grunts above him, praising him for all the hard work he's putting into servicing them. It always gives him this fuzzy feeling in his processor and is the easiest way to get him deep into subspace.

[azdoine]

stolen planets

this is a minor point of order, mostly unrelated to the stuff about the River that I'm trying to get to later, but it's an idea I've never seen anyone post about in their consideration of John's empire and agenda.

early on in AYU, while dwelling on her miserable slog through convalescence, Judith mentions overhearing an inscrutable bit of BOE slang:

The stomach pouch was removed on a previous excursion to what they said was an abandoned “steal planet.” I understand that they use the word “steal” for what we would term “shepherd.”

I say slang because why else would you use the present tense verb in place of a past-tense adjective here, if not as colloquialism? however, this slang appears nowhere in NTN, where we spend great chunks of time airing out BOE vernacular.

Reading between the lines a bit, we can easily guess what the BOE troops meant by "steal", because they spend the rest of the short story trying to get Judith connected to one:

The ship was a Gorgon-class vehicle... it was the last time they had tried to design a light craft that still had room for a stele. Blood of Eden must have captured or stolen one intact.

However, this is still an unusual way of speaking; we've never exactly heard of a "stele planet" before, and we know BOE had to get their stele from Mercymorn, as opposed to finding one in the corpse of a flipped planet.

Looking for 'plot holes' and errors in the continuity of a magic system is rarely productive, but if we comb back over HTN, AYU, and NTN, there appear to be some interesting inconsistencies in the presentation of stelae.

In HTN, John describes stele travel as vaguely dependent on obelisk infrastructure, forcing his Lyctors (who can travel freely) to lay down more of them - the reader is encouraged to that stelae are warp drives, and that obelisks define the regions a stele can transit between.

God said, “We came up with the stele instead, and the obelisk, which are less to do with travel than they are to do with transmission. But there will be times in your future when you will have to move unfettered by needing an obelisk, and even times yet to come when you will fulfil the sacred Lyctoral duty of setting obelisks...”

“Where we are going there are no obelisks for a stele to hook on to,” said the Emperor.

Certain asides in AYU and NTN double down on this interpretation, making references to "obelisk anchors", and establishing the need to locate an anchor at one's intended destination before embarking on stele travel:

Someone else said more clearly, How will we know where the anchor is? And the voice said, I’ve given you the blasted co-ordinates, haven’t I? It won’t be in the ship’s stellar registry, so you’ll have to do the input work yourself. And you must follow the route I’ve given you afterward.

“The Ziz isn’t Cohort standard. And it’s not as big on the inside as you think. Look at the windows—see how there’re none on the back end? It’s mostly engine. Not plated either. It’ll get to sublume without many problems … but it definitely doesn’t have room for a stele. Camilla is right. It can’t travel by obelisk anchor.”

However, AYU makes it clear that a stele also has a role to play as an anchor:

Under this duress I told them I understood how the stele worked but had no ability to use it myself... I said one necromancer alone would not be able to use it as an anchor and that it needed to be energised on a thanergenic planet, so it would never be of any use to them.

NTN even seems to flip-flop around, with people locating a stele to anchor onto, and using obelisks like an array of engines rather than to define one end in a point-to-point transition.

"The Warden convinced the Oversight Body, convinced the Sixth House to come with us. We showed them the secret of the installation. We helped them find a stele that would anchor such a big thanergy transition … which means, we helped them move."

"How’d you get it through a stele? With the weight of that thing, you’d never survive River displacement.” “Five hundred and thirty-two obelisks,” said Camilla.

Here's my tinfoil hat for you: if a stele and an obelisk both have similar roles to play in FTL travel - as suggested by their both being named after words for monuments - then the obelisk should have a similar necromantic nature. They may both be similar names for the same thing, or two different versions of the same thing, at least.

If nothing else, given that they're clearly both "anchors" rooted in Fifth House spirit magic, obelisks and stelae must have similar demands for upkeep and maintenance. And how can a Lyctor possibly set up such an obelisk out in space?

We know that each anchor relies on great quantities of freshly oxygenated and thanergy-enriched blood - that is, each anchor is sustained by a thanergenic fluid still flush with thalergy, per Pyrrha's comments to the effect that blood wards are more thalergy-rich than bone wards. Such anchors also have to be charged with power from thanergy-rich planets.

Mercymorn was able to produce an automatic oxygenation unit via the use of flesh magic, but blood cells need external organs to stay alive. For purposes of sustaining a very large anchor with life and death, a simpler option might be to make your runes with very wide chisel cuts or specially treated surfaces, so that they can't be blotted out by debris, and then leave them in a liquid ecosystem. Place them at the bottom of a water basin teeming with microorganisms, and then allow the micro-ecology to start dying off in the same thanergenic background radiation that you're using to charge up the anchor monument.

For example, by carving into the seabed under the salt-water ocean of a dying planet - a stele planet.

[fumifooms]

Laios Touden and autism; admiring the non-human

Do you think people exaggerate when they scream about Laios being autistic? Do you feel like it’s weird that so many people including autistics are so set on Laios, the problematic (but incredible and kind) king TM, being the most autistic that has ever autisticed? Why do we cheer on autistic people wanting to be monsters?? Isn’t that weird?

Well, of course it depends on the way it’s done, it can be done quite offensively, but long story short Kui blew it out of the park. The thing is, autistic people really do like monsters and animals and robots. Nonhuman does not mean subhuman, it just means Other. Feeling a connection with them has been shown to be an extremely common autistic experience for that very reason.

Because some people don’t understand why we autistic Tumblr Laios stans cheer “autism! Autism!” whenever he talks about monsters and feeling alienated to humans so! Here’s a post about how yes even research papers are analyzing the special connection we form with animals. I’m not even joking but Laios Touden & the mass cries of relatability with autistic people he gets and all the love for him could be used as study material and evidence for future papers because the link is that strong. Oh also I think it’s notable that being autistic and undiagnosed vs diagnosed makes a huge difference. In my experience as someone who was undiagnosed up until 18, it’s even more alienating to not know that there’s a reason why you’re different, being gaslit that you’re ‘normal’ and you just need to try harder and get with the program, etc. Personally when getting diagnosed I went through the 5 stages of grief because the thought of having been fundamentally different all your life (a difference which you will never be able to change) and mistreated for it when you weren’t “wrong” all along makes you unload all the anger and sadness and loneliness and sheer trauma you’ve built up over time. Like it’s world shattering.

So! Back to seeing dogs as family. Also I implore you to value experiential evidence when it comes to autism and other neurodivergences because brains are complicated and neurotypicals not being able to understand us well even with scientific research is like, a whole thing even though we’re right there speaking about how we feel and being right every time because the topic is literally us and how we experience the world. 

Disclaimer for this whole post that, of course, no group is a monolith and everyone has different experiences or can diverge from the norm of the group, and that doesn’t diminish the validity of either side! Like, I know autistic people who have trauma with dogs and hate them. But, trends do happen, and in this case... Autism is very “My experiences with humans make me feel dehumanized in a bad and lonely way so instead I’ll dehumanize myself in a good and inspiring way”.

“I was treated like a failed human my entire life and you’re surprised that my response was to become a dog.” -Patricia Taxxon

It’s literally well recorded that autistic people relate to animals more than humans globally. With this post, besides spreading autistic Laios truthism and explaining why the portrayal hits so deep for so many,  I want to show in what way this is a very specific experience and not looking at his character through an autistic lense really misses a lot of why he’s everything that he is. (Tacking allegedly onto here for legal reasons, different interpretations are valid etc etc /gen). This honestly isn’t super long though.

To define an important term, anthropomorphism in the studies and in this post means to attribute human traits to the nonhuman, which not only includes anthro furry designs but also animals irl, inanimate objects, and animated media as opposed to live action, to humanize them and empathize with them.

Paper: https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/aut.2019.0027 

“Dogs taught me how to hunt and socialize and work in groups”, Laios having internalized body language... So real so real. I, too, make a great dog impression. And I want to emphase the part that it helps greatly develop a sense of emotions and relationships! For Laios, he didn’t get along with kids his age, it was him, Falin and the dogs against the world. Since it’s a group of dogs too, it taught him group dynamics and social hierarchies (like with Falin being considered as being below the dogs in authority according to the dogs rip), and the importance of group coordination when hunting.

For me, I cannot like, concisely explain just how much animals were important to me developmentally. I also grew up with dogs, but like I vividly remember encounters with like hamsters as well just radically shaping my understanding of boundaries, the importance of giving something space and the way you interact with them and respect their side of it. Unlike humans they don’t really mask how they feel, it’s direct cause-effect reaction and data gathering. There are no words involved, so the focus on having a perfect phrasing and tone is gone, leaving just pure interactions. 

There’s also no reason to mask how you feel either, and you don’t have to feel silly over wanting to form a connection and it showing, what, is the dog gonna laugh at you because you obviously want to make friends with it? Toshiro or Kabru might, but dogs and cats will just tell you to fuck off and leave it there worst case scenario. I often say that I think one reason Marcille is special to Laios and he feels comfortable around her is because she emotes INTENSELY, she gestures, she puts her whole body into it, her facial expressions are pretty exaggerated and her ears even emote too- like with a dog’s ears!

I think there’s def also things to be said about how he gravitated towards Izutsumi at first, all excited, was eager to sleep in the same bed as her, but in the Izutsumi sleep rating chart we see they really just casual and chill so it’s not a Laios talking to Shuro deep into the night situation just a “I like sleeping besides animals” situation and that is enough to hype him up. I love how he pet her in the extra about why Chil let her sleep with him too. He’s just so transparently eager to befriend her, even if in the end they weren’t all that compatible and he accepted that.

There are honestly so many examples I could give for this. Like Grandin the famous cow lady.

More about autism & empathy:

https://www.spectrumnews.org/news/double-empathy-explained/ (Also mentions a study in which groups of autistic, allistic then a mixed group played a game of telephone and both singular groups had similar levels of information retention, but the mixed group was significantly worse. As an autistic person yeah duh, obviously autistic people are different from one another and can have plenty of interpersonal issues, but communicating with other neurodivergent people feels pretty intuitive and straightforward and comfortable. One of the reasons why neurodivergent people tend to naturally gravitate towards each other I suppose.) 

^ Paper: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5932358/  For good, extensive summary of why we relate to animals so much you can go to the “anthromorphizing and asd” section of the paper. This paper extends to our widespread liking of cartoons and robots as well. Ok so this is a whole thing I won’t get into here but this is a big reason why a lot of autistic people are agender leaning as well. Genders and queerness in general is a lot about social constructs, and being queer is being marginal to these, not fitting into boxes or challenging those social norms and conventions. Queerplatonic relationships are a great example of this, where the framework of the relationship is platonic but the intangible nature of what it is exactly is the point, not familial not anything but everything at once too, just adoration, I like to say having pets is a bit like it as well, bc obvi it’s not romantic and often not fully familial, very platonic but also sooo much cuddling and adoration and kissing and whatnot that you wouldn’t typically do with a friend or family member. I’ll talk about qpr and labels another day though.

I got carried away but queerness in Dunmeshi is something I 100% want to make a big post on one day. Experiencing the world with different guidelines and not registering things to have the same boxes, sigh. Personally I also relate to Laios on a gender level, “cis by default because I don’t care all that much but if I were to dig deeper I’m probably otherkin and I want to be socially associated with traits of monsters and animalistic rather than man/woman” sighh hard to be a cryptid in this day and age. I wish we had a term like furry but for monsters, I want to be in the fantasy or folk tale genre ty, like changelings. Goshh changelings... You know, the irl myth where people said their neurodivergent kids were fairies’ children instead of human. Diminished physical sense of self means I see myself as some unknowable black  void aesthetic wise, but like in a way that simultaneously makes me feel seen. Like becoming a monster, losing your sense of self but also somehow just being simplified and seen for what you are, it’s weird to try and explain. This post is more about relating to the nonhuman than about seeing yourself as such, but like connect the dots right, that IS an important point of Laios’ character. It’s because our brains literally work different than allistics which makes us feel as other, but also because of social ostracization and functioning in a different way than society at large, living in the margin of society, being weird and non-conforming.

Meanwhile, animals and social norms... Like ok, showing your neck and rolling on the ground to show that you’re friendly and harmless and play biting might not be proper. But have you considered that it’s also fun and feels very intuitive. Play with a dog in the dog’s way I promise it is so nice and freeing. Play tug of war and growl back when they growl. Hiss at your cat to tell them they do something wrong, engage with them on their level.

Autism made social life hard, but it made animals easy. Do you have anyyy idea how good it feels to mask all day every day and feel constantly misunderstood or like you’re doing a performance but then you can just, drop all of that in the company of animals and they understand you. They understand you. You form an understanding and rapport so easily.

And this whole thing with Laios is so explicit too, with the Winged Lion saying “You’re sick and tired of the human world”. Notice the choice of words. Sick and tired of the human world. Exhausted from the constraints, sick of the mind games. It really isn’t as much about loving monsters as it is about loving the nonhuman. Relating to them because you feel that you can actually understand how they work and think, and feeling like they could understand you back as well. Animals are safe.

Like I could go on about how Laios admiring even just demi-humans like orcs is because they’re socially seen as non-humans more than any true physical thing, that they’re not bound by human society and its rules and live with their own lifestyle. But it would deal myself 1000 points of psychic damage and I am not ready to cry today. It’s idealization 100%, and like, Laios DOES want to be treated as human, to be valued, but it feels like an unreachable thing meanwhile becoming a monster is instant gratification and freedom and a sense that now no one will be able to hurt you in a way that reaches you, never again shall you be defenseless, and then if people dehumanize you then that only strengthens your sense of identity as a monster and UGHH ugh ugh.

And like. This post is a mess at this point but if you want to kinda delve into the more “why” then I recommend this Patricia Taxxon video essay. It starts out on a very different topic, but it’s all about autism and finding comfort in the inhuman. Long story short is othering made us like this also animals are just simpler to intuitively get along with.

So when I post this

I mean it. I really mean it when I say he’s me. I have never felt so seen. So many conflicting emotions all wrapped so concisely yet so intangibly woven into the whole storyline so subtly. 

Not being depicted as a monster of an human being for feeling/having felt that way?? The manga understands you. The world can understand you. Other humans can understand you. You can bond with them. You can. And I think that’s a big part of Dungeon Meshi too- Laios opening up to others about how he really is and his interests, and all the bumps on the way but how it was the only way to truly get to know each other and bond. With the climax being Laios confronting head on his complex with monsters and humans, and his monster-loving side and animalistic side being exactly what saves the whole world, what saves humanity. Because Laios does value his friends, does think humanity has beautiful sides to it, he wants to help it thrive and eat and become more accepting, carving out a kingdom for misfits and demi-humans. At the end of it, transforming into a monster and being free is a daydream fantasy, and the reality of it is that Laios does belong in the world as he is, and does receive and give out love.

If you enjoyed this you’ll probably like some of my other Laios analysis!  Here’s an analysis of his succubus and what it says about his relationships with other humans. And here’s an analysis about his relationship with Shuro from his perspective.

[3eyesdivine]

Reigns’ Girl

Chapter One : At First Glance

inspired by the movie Miller’s Girl and song Teacher’s Pet.

warnings ; 18+ only, smut, intimate & heavily erotic scenes, teacher x college student plot, angst, thriller, obsession, drug use

The world of writing is something incredible, isn't it? The way words can fit together so flawlessly and draw you in to the scene you're seeking for with every word you read. So incredible, you are unable to shift your focus away from it. It's almost—what's the word? 

Ah. Pulchritudinous. 

In other words, the world of literature is breathtaking and heartbreaking. In a favorable or unfavorable way? Who knows? It depends on how the individual perceives each word they read and how they interpret the meaning contained inside those words. Interesting, right? It's like a billet-doux, a love letter for bibliophiles.

With my brain clouded with thoughts, I enter the classroom of the professor recommended to me by a close friend. Mr. Reigns. Full name, Roman Reigns.

His back was turned to face me as he wrote the task list on the blackboard in white chalk, and I took advantage of the opportunity to let my sight roam down his obviously muscular physique. His shoulders were huge and broad, almost splitting the shirt he was wearing in half. His waist was small but not petite, just ideal. And his hair was bound in a loose bun, every strand.

“Hello? You’re early.” I heard a deep, oh so deep yet silky voice speak, and I was abruptly pulled out of my own little world of borderline infatuation. 

My eyes shifted away from his frame and up to his own gaze. His expression was a combination of perplexity and interest.

“Only by a couple of minutes.” I respond with a little, shy grin upon my lips.

The spacious classroom grew quiet for a moment as the two of us were stuck where our feet stopped us, like our shoes were superglued to the hardwood flooring. Mr. Reigns eventually took the initiative, clearing his throat as he set the chalk in his palm down and stepped down from his desk to the one I was stood at, designating it mine as I placed my books and materials on top of it.

"You're new to this class. What's your name?" He inquires, laying a paper on my desk that calls my attention, my curious gaze drawn to the vast list of books and classroom rules. "Ah, I hope this isn't too overwhelming. It contains a list of books that I require my students get familiar with." 

I tilt my head, nod gently, and delicately touch the antique wooden desk beneath my fingertips.

"It's Lilith. Lilith Dumas, and I’ve read them all."

He looks at me with a tinge of amazement and some disbelief.

"I mean the books, Ms. Dumas. Not the syllabus-" 

I cut him off, causing our sentences to overlap.

“I know. I'm telling you, I've read them all.” I say matter-of-factly. 

The corners of the man's lips lift for a second before dropping, only to rise again as he laughs briefly. I'm assuming he's impressed. A nineteen-year-old girl has read over twelve literary works, and he'd be terrified if he was aware of any more than that. How can a girl my age have so much free time, given her youth? I'm certain that's the precise question on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't want to pry into the life of girl in her first year of college. I know.

“Ok. Impressive.” He praised, a hint of a smile still lingering over his lips.

“Well, uhm..” He claps his hands together awkwardly, looking down at his feet before looking back up at me. “I hope you enjoy my class, Lilith.”

Yes, say my name again. Please. Oh, please.

“I know I will, Mr. Reigns.” I reply, my tone surely dripping and drenched with seduction, even in the slightest.

Fighting back a smile and a burning blush hot to the touch, I settle at my desk as the rest of the class rushes in. My little hands brush over my short skirt as I cross my legs, but my gaze is fixed on Mr. Reigns, who is staring back at me after observing my silky legs alter their position. My brows raised briefly in response before the man turned away from me and proceeded with instructing the class. 

It was only our first time meeting and this man, Roman Reigns. Mm, even his name feels like honey on my lips, and I want to yell it at the top of my lungs. Yell it out of love and desire!

I'm not well over my head with this; my mind isn't in the clouds, and my feet are firmly planted on the ground. This is reality…

My reality, at least.

As wrong as it is, as dangerous as it will be. I want this man. It’s not okay, it’s crossing a line and it’s riskier than who knows what.

But I made up my mind anyway, made it up at first glance and I promise, I’ll get what I want.

No matter the lengths.

Thank you for reading! Chapter two will be up hopefully tomorrow!

In the meantime, send in some requests and if you'd like to be tagged in this series and many more works of mine, don't be afraid to let me know.

[phantomfallacy]

There’s not nearly enough analyses of Wriothesley and the panopticon that is Meropide.

Like, sure, the connection is there, but are your lines connecting to the right points? Because if you think Wriothesley’s office is the control tower and the Fortress is his all-knowing domain, I think you’re wrong.

Spoilers for his character quest and the Meropide world quest ahead, as well as various tidbits in mini quests:

The Unfinished Comedy reveals that there is a child who had been born in the prison, more or less a decade ago. More than enough time for Wriothesley to “discover” her. But he doesn’t. He is, without a doubt, an advocator of children, and would never allow her to stay in prison if he can help it. No matter what excuse there is, such as being busy with the reformation of the prison, the Fatui invasion, or the Wingalet construction, it doesn’t negate the fact that Wriothesley doesn’t know, or he would’ve acted.

The Beret Society as well, while coming under Wriothesley’s purview, has existed long enough to brainwash and break the spirits of the people who have joined. He had no evidence that Dougier had been breaking rules and infringing on human rights.

So no, Wriothesley, contrary to the Fortress of Meropide description, does not know everything that goes on in the Fortress, and he tells us so.

So then why does the description say otherwise?

The concept of the panopticon is that a single prison warden can maintain order because people will never be able to tell if his eyes are on them. As a result, they will behave, regardless of whether the warden is truly watching or not. Wriothesley tells us that he doesn’t have eyes and ears everywhere because we are not a prisoner. We do not need to be intimidated into behaving. Moreover, the Traveler seems to be an exception to everything like a harem protagonist so let’s discount “our” knowledge of Wriothesley’s claim.

What I think slaps the most though, is that his panopticon isn’t just the Fortress, but the Court of Fontaine as well.

It is mentioned that Wriothesley knows the ongoings of the overworld despite rarely coming up. The citizens of Fontaine see Meropide as this horrible place, even after Wriothesley’s reforms, and it’s not only because of prejudice (though that is most certainly the case), but because of his refusal to be perceived. He refuses Charlotte’s interviews, though being a Duke would most certainly put him in the eye of the public. This is a tentative maintenance of his public persona: that of a cruel and unfathomable man.

“The less people see of me, the happier they will be.”

If people understood that Meropide had welfare meals, stable work hours, and relatively accessible healthcare, why would they be incentivized to follow the law? Especially those of Fleuvre Cendre. But Meropide cannot possibly be that kind of haven. It is a prison, and forever should be—because it is not sustainable.

What humans cannot understand, they fear, and that works to keep the rest of Fontaine in check from committing crimes. No one wants to go to prison, no one wants to suffer, no one wants to see the Duke of Meropide. It’s embedded into the very society, so much that they have pop culture-like phrases for it.

The Duke’s office isn’t the control tower. The whole of Meropide Fortress is, and Fontaine is the “prison.”

There are other interpretations of course, such as the factor of more recent commentary on panopticons and how they bring up the topic of holding those in absolute power accountable. The warden at the center of the panopticon has absolute power, but how is he to be kept accountable?

It could be a hint about how Wriothesley isn’t as in control as he presents himself, and the way he rules is dependent on the people who keep him in check. After all, he says that as Duke, he must set an example of persecuting only after evidence has been found of a wrongdoing, otherwise he could have simply killed Dougier. However, that would certainly bring the Fortress down around him as people questioned his reputation as a fair ruler. (Cough bringing back my sword of Damocles bullshit here//shot).

Alternatively, Wriothesley himself could be a sword of Damocles upon Fontaine, evidenced by Neuvillette’s story quest, but I feel like that would be a Wriolette thread…

Without the source material confirming anything, we’re just playing with Schrödinger’s cat though. Just some food for thought.

Next time on Dragon Ball Z: my TED Talk on why the Fortress of Meropide is not called the Fortress of Atlantis because Wriothesley presents it as communism but it is totalitarian and why that works— (Kidding, I don’t wanna touch this with a ten foot pole pls don’t respond with political philosophies I will perish 🫠🫠🫠😵)

[gotham-daydreams]

Weird to say, but I think I'm pretty forgiving of Damien. Yeah, he's rude and ignores the reader, but he probably does the same to everyone else lmao. With Dick who pays careful attention to everyone, it's a betrayal that he would neglect the reader because he should have been an older sibling. Plus Damien is like ten, it's kinda hard for me to hold him accountable when he grew up without knowing better and he's just emulating older members of the family. I'm pretty sure this is how youngest sibling privilege works lol

Yeah, I completely agree! Even then, it can be difficult to know that what you're doing is wrong when you see the people you admire and respect doing the same thing.

Like you said, Damian, in reality, is probably rude to everyone else and ignores them from time to time too. Though for the sake of the "Not [ ]" series, he just so happens to ignore the reader a little more when compared to the rest of the Batfam. Which can still be chalked up to him just following the mannerisms of the family without even thinking much about it.

Regardless, neglect is still neglect and what happened to the reader still isn't right- but I do kind of agree with you that Damian probably holds the least amount of capability. He's young, and you can't really expect him to fully be aware of the effects his actions have on other people, especially when that person:

1. Hasn't expressed how negatively the whole situation has effected them, and they don't exactly appreciate their entire existence getting ignored by so many people. (Which is valid and understandable! Because how can you expect someone who's been ignoring you for so long to not only listen to you, but even acknowledge you enough to notice you have something important to say? How can you expect someone so seemingly set on ignoring you, to care? You can't. So the reader stays quiet, but it is something worth pointing out, I feel.)

2. Again, sees that everyone around them pretty much does the same thing. So it's more of a "if they're doing it, it must be for a reason, so I'll do it too" (since Dick and Bruce are also ignoring you, and Damian actually cares about both of them).

Damian is the least aware that what he did was wrong to begin with because no one told it was, and those around him almost seemed to enable that behavior by continuing to do it themself.

I'd like to believe that maybe his behavior would've changed if he knew how badly it was effecting the reader, but that's also to assume that the others wouldn't. Though who knows?

As for everyone else? They're way past old enough to know that what they're doing is wrong. The neglect as a whole was a "team effort", and even if they won't consider it that, it basically was. All of them neglected you except for Alfred, and they all did it over the course of nearly the reader's entire stay at the Manor. If anyone should've known, it should've been them, and depending on your interpretation of the situation and everything - some are more at fault for neglecting the reader when compared to others.

Especially if they seemingly didn't ignore and tried to spend time with/bond with other members of the family, but the reader just didn't make the cut time and time again.

Like you said — Dick is easily one of the worst offenders simply because he's loving and all this stuff to the Batfam, but just not to the reader —and especially when compared to Damian who was just none the wiser for the most part.

[comfortless]

what's ur most unconventional Headcanon? like ones you have that most of the fandom doesn't agree with. mine is that I don't think h's 6'10, in my mind he's closer to 6'6 or 6'7. Also I don't think he would be the most caring bf 😶😶 like not abusive or anything, but to me he will almost always prioritize himself in the long run

HA… well….. i do not think any of mine are too strange! but i can not ever shush when someone has lent an ear to listen!!

warning for nsfw content, mentions of injury, and unhealthy relationship stuff below the cut.

i agree with you about his height. he’s significantly taller than Simon, but i would place him at 6’7”-6’8” max. i’m no health or military expert, but i do not think that he could do the work that he does efficiently if he were a complete Goliath. he would stand out so easily! and there are a slew of issues that can stem from someone being “too tall”. he probably doesn’t have the best posture, either.

i love the conventionally attractive, long-haired König headcanons, they’re fun! but ultimately… very, very unrealistic for my interpretation of König. i tend to side with Salome and Ghost when it comes to their takes on how he actually looks under the hood. his character description suggests that his face is scary, and judging by the game that he’s in, i do not think that the other operators are going to find some goth guy nor… Jim Boeven… to be worthy of such a rumor!

König’s face is always going to be a fluctuating thing for me, heavily dependent on the setting/time period i’m shoving him into or reading about. the thing that’s stuck with me however has always been facial scarring!! where he got it? who knows… i mentioned it on my headcanons post, but the cause is just as changing as his appearance.

i like the thought of him being a little different looking: crooked teeth, pockmarks, maybe a harelip or a broken nose, burn scars, something. maybe his hair is so light it simply looks as if he doesn’t have eyebrows. maybe a combination of all of those things! the less conventionally attractive the better, it’s not his face that had us scrambling from the rafters with our hearts in our hands, after all. though i am and always will be a glitched default face model König defender. it’s just so unbearably adorable to think of that soft, sad-eyed face making that much noise while he’s rushing around in battle. ):

and though i believe he would have the best intentions at heart… you are right, he is likely a very selfish lover. still hopelessly devoted and needy, but he would be the king of double standards. most decisions are made with his preferences in mind, and the bullying has stuck with him. König is insecure as hell when it comes to anything but his skills in killing or bashing through a door.

he likes the idea of you dressing up for him, but he’s also actively pulling up your dress/top to hide your cleavage if he even thinks another man may have glanced your way. yet… he will go to the gym shirtless, and if other women happen to ogle him, well it’s just fine because he didn’t notice them anyway.

you don’t like the house you’re living in when you move in together? well he does, you’re staying… he’ll just fix it up a little to better suit your needs. even if he screws up setting up a new counter or painting, that can all be fixed.

you want to go out with your friends? he should be allowed to come with you… spending time with you makes him happy. why wouldn’t you want him to come too? yet, when he wants time alone to focus on his aim, decompress with a book, or mess around with a vehicle or a house project, you’re expected to leave him be.

he’s too blunt about what he does for work, doesn’t bat an eye when he tells you he put a bullet through someone’s head and watched the spray. he’s so used to it, it doesn’t even faze him anymore, but… you don’t want to hear about it? oh that must mean you think he’s something filthy or worse. he’s not going to cry, but he might bring it up when you tell him about something you enjoy.

just ridiculous, petty things that would drive most up a wall, but he’s firm in whatever he decides. there’s always a little room for compromise, but not much without an argument.

he has his savings account and the house is in his name in case you decide to leave. it would gut him, of course, but a part of him also expects it.

he’s not above begging for you to stay, trying any way that he can to convince you, but… he’s never expected to have things handed to him easily. his childhood wasn’t the best, why would his adulthood be any better? the way he sees it is simple: he doesn’t hit you, his cock and heart are reserved solely for you, if you can’t love him enough to stay, then… maybe you’re not any different from the people he’s known before.

he’s self aware enough to know he can be a complete arschloch, thinks with his cock more than his brain, but he’s completely lost when it comes to matters like love. he wants to console you when you cry, when you’re angry, but asking you a dozen times just why you feel such a way while squishing you into a too-tight embrace doesn’t help much. his search history is filled with things like “why is my girlfriend mad at me” or “how to make a woman stop ignoring me”. his communication toward you isn’t great, but he tries in his own way. very easy to break an argument up when he tells you some silly, scripted thing like, “I’m here for you. I’m listening.” when under normal circumstances he’s staring at you with wide-eyes and swallowing hard the very second you seem a little ruffled. you tell him to stop reciting some guide he read online, and he’s immediately worried sick you’re going to think him a complete fool, in utter denial about ever having searched something like that up.

can’t see him as being god’s gift to women in the bedroom at all. König has probably watched a lot of porn. he doesn’t care for the scripted, practiced stuff, but his tastes have always been a little odd. the amateur, solo stuff is what piques his interest the most. he knows a vibrator can make a woman come, knows that a dildo can be nice too if she sets the pace. what he’s watched with a proper couple, well… the men are always smaller than him. the terms and dynamics are lost on him, he knows what a safe word is and that he should be a gentleman and make sure his partner finishes too, but each time that’s happened has been a miracle really. he’s not a virgin, but he’s never had a partner long enough to bother learning. if he can make you feel good and vice versa, that’s enough, right..?!

he’s not going to bludgeon you with his dick, he knows he’s a bit too big and thick to just fuck you recklessly, but often times he does get excited or fretful— too deep or too shallow, flicks your clit like it’s indestructible or keeps his head between your thighs waaay after you’ve already come. he’ll stop when you ask, when you’re teary eyed and overstimulated repeating the ridiculous German word he makes you use. not above begging you to use your hand on him instead, though…

switching positions is difficult if you’re a lot smaller than him. he’s not against having you on your knees, but he wants to be so close, pant into your ear about how good you feel, smother you with his weight all the while. missionary is a nightmare because he’s drooly and comes far too quickly when he can see your face and overpower you like this, cue further squishing even after he’s done; you’re likely going to be lying beneath him all night. cowgirl seems to work best, though he’s a bit too fond of having your tits so accessible - expect biting!!

when i try to think of König with any sort of hobby my mind just blanks. i think he would try a lot, but never stick to one thing! he’s got a few sporadic collections, but nothing he keeps up with to the same caliber as his guns and knives. books are often half-finished these days, keeping focused long enough to sit through a puzzle or the like is rare. definitely longs to have something for comfort that isn’t some winding trail to no where or suffocating you in himself to just have a hint of what it feels like to be entirely happy and ‘normal’.

he’s become a bit of an amalgamation of all of the things he liked as a child: knights with their swords he thinks of as his knives, deities with bolts of thunder cascading from their hands like the bullets from his guns, loves in the way he read men of myths fall in love - utterly unfathomably devoted but always the leader… if he could he would probably whisk himself and the object of his affection to another place entirely where he could be someone deserving: someone who’s loved despite the way that he looks or behaves, someone who’s never had to question what love was at all.

[apiswitchcraft]

greek astragalomancy

guess who found out about another ancient form of divination yall. first off, I would like to direct you to this post by @hellenic-reconstructionism that basically said all of this already. I'm not sourcing from them, however they have basically all the same info I have so I don't want it to seem like I'm copying them. much love <3

BACKGROUND:

Traditionally, astragalomancy was done with bones called astragaloi, knucklebones or tali (most commonly from sheep or goats). To be clear, the use of astragaloi has been traced back all the way to the Neolithic period, and is not solely Greek. We are just only talking about the Greek divination type, but just know these aren't the only interpretations out there.

Also, this kind of divination is pretty similar to psephoi reading, to which my friend @apolloforetoldus made a post about!

For the game and divination technique, the four sides of the knucklebone would be marked as 1 (chion), 3 (hyption), 4 (pranes), or 6 (koon), with opposing sides adding up to 7.

The Ancient Greeks and Romans would also make replicas of astragaloi out of wood, glass, bronze, or ivory, and in a book I read they used a coin flip instead of a dice roll, so I'll include how to do that too

HOW TO:

Usually a full set of astragaloi would be five bones, but you can also use one bone and just roll it five times. In either case, hold your knucklebones in your hand and jiggle them (like you would with dice) while thinking of your question. Throw/drop them onto a soft surface like an altar cloth or mat and look at either all the downward or the upward facing numbers (depending on what you prefer, I use the upward facing). Make sure to keep track of all the individual numbers that you pulled, as each sum can have multiple different interpretations.

For another method, take a set of three coins of any shape, size, or origin. Flip these three all together at once, and see their correspondences below.

Chion: 3 Heads | Hyption: 1 Tail | 2 Heads | Pranes; 2 Tails, 1 Head | Koon: 3 Tails

Throw this set of three four more times. Each time you flip the three, correspond it to an astragalus value, so that you end up with five numbers.

Some deities that you may call upon that are mentioned in the interpretations are Athena, Hermes, Apollo, or Themis (among others that I could not be bothered to list in entirety).

INTERPRETATIONS:

there are, to my knowledge, two distinct interpretations for each number reading. one in "The Greek I Ching" by Kostas Dervenis (which he sources from somewhere else, I'm sure) and those from the inscriptions in Termessos, which are below. I did not include all of Dervenis' (I used a couple to fill in some blanks) because I would feel bad taking something I paid for and providing it for free on the internet.

Individual rolls | Sum | Title | Interpretation

11111 | 5 | Zeus Olympios | If you see only Chians: Zeus will give good thinking to your mind, stranger: he will grant happiness to your work, for which you will give thanks. But appease Aphrodite and the Son of Maia (Hermes).

11113 | 7 | Athena Areia | If four Chians and one three are cast, the god signals: By avoiding enmity and Animosity, you will reach your prize; you will arrive and the blue-eyed goddess Athena will save you. The activity that you have in mind will turn out as you wish it.

41111 | 8 | Moirai | If one four and four Chians in a row are cast: Don’t do the business that you are engaged in; it will not turn out well. It will be difficult and impossible around someone who tires himself out. But if you go abroad for some time, no harm will come from it.

33111 | 9 | Zeus’ Eagle | If two threes and three Chians are cast: A high flying eagle on the right-hand side of the traveler will be a good omen; with the help of Greatest Zeus (Zeus Megistos) you will achieve your goal; do not fear.

61111 | 10 | Daimôn Megistos | If one six and four Chians in a row; It will be better to fulfill whatever vow you made to the daimôn, if you intend to perform what you ponder in your mind. Demeter and Zeus will save you.

11143 | 10 | Caring Fortune | If three are Chians, one a four and the fifth a three, Do not do the business you are about to do; as for the very intention you have, the gods are restraining it, but they will free you from you toil and no harm will meet you.

33311 | 11 | Victory | If three threes are cast, and further two Chians; you will win; you will take what you wish, and you will achieve everything; the daimôn will make you honored, and you will overcome your enemies, the plan that you are about to realize will be according to your desire.

44111 | 11 | Joyful Victory | If two fours and three Chians in a row are cast; Do all your business because it will turn out well. The gods will save him who is ill from his bed; also the god announces that he who is in another country will return home.

41133 | 12 | Asklepios | If one four, two Chians and two threes are cast; A storm will come about your business, but it will turn out well; also the god announces that he will free the one who is ill from his suffering, and the gods will bring safely home the one who is abroad.

11163 | 12 | Steering Tyche | Three Chians, a six, and the fifth throw a three; Do not yet make haste to go; it is impossible to go, rather wait, if you set out to rush mindlessly, you will do great damage to yourself, but if you wait, blameless time will accomplish everything.

11164 | 13 | Aphrodite | Three Chians and a six and the fifth a four; Sail wherever you wish; you will return full of joy, for you have found and accomplished everything that you ponder in your mind; but pray to Aphrodite and the Son of Maia (Hermes).

13333 | 13 | Zeus and Athena | If one Chian and four threes are cast; You are fit for every business and ready for any undertaking. The gods will easily save him who is ill, and all will be well as to the other oracles.

11344 | 13 | The Melodious Muse | If one three falls, two ones, and two fours: You would do well to act. Good prospects, profits easily gained. It is better now to participate, rather than to try to create. Keep private, in order to succeed, the sweet verse of the Muse.

13334 | 14 | Triton | One Chion, three threes, and one four; The god announces: You kick against the goad, you struggle against the waves, you search for a fish in the sea: do not hasten to do business. It does not help you to force the gods at the wrong time.

61133 | 14 | Daimôn | One six, two Chians, and a pair of threes. Do not project terrible things, and do not pray for what is against the gods, thinking terrible thoughts. There will accrue no gain from it, and no reward will come from this path you are walking.

44411 | 14 | Agathos Daimôn | If three fours and two ones are cast: The daimôn will lead you on the way that you undertake, and the lover of smiling, Aphrodite, will lead you toward good things. You will return with rich fruit and an untroubled Fate.

13344 | 15 | Zeus Savior | One Chian, two threes, two fours being cast: Approach with courage the business that you set out to do; do it! You will win, since the gods have given you these favorable signs, and do not avoid them in your intention: nothing bad will come from it.

11166 | 15 | Zeus Ammon | If three ones and two sixes are cast: The god announces to you: Undertake with courage the way you set out in your mind, god will give you everything: you will accomplish whatever your mind tells you, and Zeus, thundering high, will be with you as your savior.

33333 | 15 | Tyche the Savior | If all the threes are cast together: The woman who has given birth to a child, had both breasts dry, but then she again flourished and has milk in abundance. Then you too will reap the fruits about which you ask me.

43611 | 15 | Zeus of Hosts and Guests (Xenios) | A four, a three, a six, and two Chians: Do not make haste with the business for which you set out, it is not yet time. The gods will easily save him who is ill, and the god announces that he will make an end to the travel of him who is in foreign land.

63331 | 16 | Herakles | One six, three threes, and a fifth a Chian: The moment has not yet arrived, you make too much hast. Do not act in vain, nor like the bitch that has borne a blind puppy. Deliberate calmly, and the god will lead you.

64411 | 16 | Ares | One six, two fours, and two Chians: Why do you hurry? Wait calmly, the moment has not yet come; if you hurry without sense and in vain, you pursue something that is not yet ready. I do not yet see the right moment, but you will have success when you wait a little while.

43333 | 16 | Kronos | One four is cast, the other four are threes: Scorpions stand in your way, do not hurry towards the business that you intend; wait, and what you wish will arrive later; neither to buy this nor to sell is better.

44413 | 16 | Delphic Apollo | Three fours, one Chian, and the fifth a three; Do not make haste, it will not be better to go; when you wish to rush mindlessly, you will damage yourself very much; but when you stay put, blameless time will perform everything.

66113 | 17 | Isis the Savior | A double six, two Chians and the fifth a three: Enter and receive the voice from the tripod! The time is also ripe for marriage; you will marry and return home. You will achieve whatever you want in your business, having found the thing about which you are anxious.

16634 | 17 | Hermes the Savior | A Chian, a six, two threes and the fifth a four: I do not see anything painful among the things about which you ask me; do not think small, go forward with courage; you will find everything you wish: your vow will be fulfilled, and there is a perfect occasion for you.

44333 | 17 | Sarapis | If two fours are cast and three threes: Take courage and fight, Zeus the Owner (Ktesios) is your helper. You will punish your opponent and have him under your fist, and he will give happiness to the works for which you thank him.

14444 | 17 | Revenge | When a single Chian is cast, and the others are four: Now the daimôn will fulfill everything for you and lead you the right way. You will perform everything according to your mind, do not wear yourself out anymore. You will achieve beautifully whatever you desire.

66114 | 18 | Adrasteia | If two sixes, two Chians, and the fifth a four: Do your business and undertake it; the time will be favorable. In the middle, difficulties and danger are waiting. As to the other oracles, things will turn out well for you.

16443 | 18 | Zeus of the Lightning | A Chian and a six, two fours and the fifth a three: What you plan will not turn out according to your liking, when you do it; it is not useful to travel to foreign lands. You will show no insight if you sell now, nor will it be useful.

44433 | 18 | The Greatest Daimôn | If there are three fours and two threes, he signifies this: I do not see this plan as safe for you; thus wait. You will do well, after this there will be luck; as for now remain calm, trust the gods and stay helpful.

63333 | 18 | Good Time | A six and four threes together; the oracle announces thus: Do not make haste, the daimôn is opposed to you, rather wait and do not act like a dog that gave birth to a blind litter. Take counsel calmly, and things will turn out happily for you.

66133 | 19 | Good Hope | Two sixes, a Chian and two threes; he signifies this: Everything about which you ask me is smooth riding for you and safe; do not be afraid, a daimôn will lead you toward everything; he will end the painful difficulties and you will disprove the suspicions.

44461 | 19 | Zeus of the Possessions | Three fours, one six, and the fifth a Chian: Proceed with courage, the oracle is about hope, stranger; it announces also that the sick person will be saved. If you need to consult an oracle, you will receive what you desire.

34444 | 19 | Hermes Who Brings Gain in Trade | If one three and four fours are cast: Zeus will give you a good plan to your mind, stranger; thus, all will be well, undertake what you desire; you will find whatever you ask the oracle for, and nothing will be bad for you.

33364 | 19 | Victory | Three threes, one six and the fifth a four: You pronounce a good oracle, stranger; one you have thought it through, you will do whatever you desire, and the god will be your helper; you will win, you will reap the fruits, and you will achieve everything.

44444 | 20 | The Inexorable Moirai | If all fours are cast together in the same way: the sun has gone down, and terrible night has come, everything has become dark. Interrupt the matter about which you ask me; it is neither better to buy nor to sell.

43661 | 20 | The Moon | A four and a three, two sixes, and the fifth a Chian: Do not undertake this business, stranger; it will not turn out well for you. The god announces that he will help the one who is ill; and if there is any fear, nothing bad will happen to you.

63344 | 20 | The Protecting Dioskouroi | Alone the six, two threes, the others fours: A man who makes haste does not achieve what opportunity offers. You have a profit, and there is fear everywhere because of evil; your business is ill-fated, and everything is painful; watch out!

66611 | 20 | Hephaistos | Three sixes and two Chians; he will tell the following: It is impossible to do business; do not toil in vain! And do not turn every stone, lest you chance upon a scorpion. Fussiness will not bring you luck, be on your guard for all sorts of misfortune!

66441 | 21 | Demeter | A pair of sixes, two fours, the fifth a Chian: Everything about which you ask me is on a smooth way for you and safe; do not be afraid, a daimôn will lead you toward everything; I see nothing that will bring you harm; take heart and go forward.

44463 | 21 | Helios, Bringer of Light | Three fours, one single six, and the fifth a three: You will achieve whatever you desire, and you will find whatever you worry about. Make an attempt, stranger, having taken heart; everything is ready; you will find what is invisible, you will come to the day of salvation.

33366 | 21 | Tyche Who Leads to Good Things | When three threes are cast and two sixes, he announces this: You matters are doing well; this oracle tells you to press forward; you will get away from difficult illness and master everything, and the god announces that he who is erring in a foreign land will return.

16663 | 22 | The Manifest Fates | One Chian, three sixes, the fifth being cast is a three: Do not put your hand into a wolf’s mouth, lest some harm happens to you; the matter about which you ask is difficult and delicate; but you stay quiet, avoiding travel and business transactions.

44446 | 22 | Poseidon | If all that are cast are fours, but the fifth is a six, he announces this: Throwing seeds and writing letters on the sea are both pointless and fruitless doing; since you are mortal, do not force a god to harm you.

43366 | 22 | Terrible Ares | Four and two threes, two sixes, and he announces this: Do not undertake the travel that you intend, stranger! Nobody will do it. A large fiery lion is about, against whom you have to be on your guard, a terrible one. The oracle is untractable, wait quietly.

16664 | 23 | Athena | One Chian, three sixes, and the fifth a four: Honor Pallas Athena, and you will get everything, whatever you wish, and everything which you are planning will turn out well; she will free from bonds and will save the sick person.

66443 | 23 | Happiness | If two sixes are cast and two fours, and the fifth is a three: Sail, wherever you want, you will return home again, having found and done everything according to your wish; you will achieve everything, and thus to buy and to trade is happiness.

66633 | 24 | Apollo Pythios | If three sixes and two threes are being cast, he signifies this: Stay put, do not act, obey Phoibos’ oracles. With time, you will find an occasion, but for now stay quiet. If you wait a short while you will achieve everything, whatever you desire.

44466 | 24 | Kronos the Child Eater | Three fours, two sixes; the god announces this to you: Stay at home with your possessions and do not go somewhere else, lest a terrible monster and a revengeful demon approach you. I do not see this business as reliable and safe.

46663 | 25 | Man Who Brings Light | One four being cast, three sixes and the fifth a three: Take courage; you have an opportunity; you will achieve what you desire, and you will come upon the right time to begin your travel; your toil will have its chance; is is good to engage in work, competitions and litigation.

66661 | 25 | Mother of the Gods | Four sixes, the fifth a Chian: he signifies this: As wolves overpower sheep and powerful lions overpower broad hoofed oxen, so you too will master all this, and everything about which you ask will be yours, with the help of Zeus’ son Hermes.

66644 | 26 | Subterranean Zeus | When three sixes and two fours, the oracle announces: The business has its obstacles, do not make hast, but wait; there is a road, painful, impossible and not to be approached; to buy is painful and to sell brings loss.

66663 | 27 | Heavenly Aphrodite | Four sixes, the three alone: he signifies this to you: The daughter of Uranus, Aphrodite, the mighty mistress of the Erotes, sends a good oracle, she will grant travel to you; you will escape from sickness and vainglorious thoughts.

66664 | 28 | Damage | Four sixes, a four: he signifies this: It is impossible to undertake something vain; do not in vain toil uselessly, lest you incur damage by pressing on. It is not good to begin traveling nor doing business.

66666 | 30 | Square Hermes | If all that are cast together are sixes: Do not go, wherever you intend to; it will be better for you to stay; I see something hostile to you, thus wait; afterwards, it will be possible, and (the god) will free you from fear and save you from toil.