#their half of the art trade… and now so many of them are like. completely out of my reach and i can never get them back. im trying to ask

[pepprs]

STILL wide awake! i did not put down my phone! and now im hungry. so i will not be sleeping tonight ♥️

[tthatsonme]

I wish u roses, by molly.

This is not unisex!! Can be used by MTF + this is lgbtq friendly.

— You’re pure temptation to everyone that you meet, most people know that they should probably steer clear of you before they want you too much. Obviously, you can’t attract anyone that you don’t want, but that doesn’t mean that half of the population of the gender you’re attracted to doesn’t want you, you’re truly too attractive for this world, people wonder if you’re either an angel that fell from heaven or a siren that traded her tail for legs and is now living as a human woman in disguise. They may never know. You have the same sex appeal as the songs Angel and Fue Mejor by Kali Uchis, So high and Streets by Doja Cat. You have the same amount of sex appeal as Margot Robbie, Ana de Armas, Alexa Demie, Kali Uchis, Doja Cat, SZA, Angelina Jolie, and Sydney Sweeney. Even though you’re as equally sexy as them, you’re mainly interested in sensuality over sexuality, you don’t need to be nude to be attractive your face was enough in the first place.

— You’re as sensually attractive as Sade and Alexa Demie, you’ve mastered the art of sensuality, you’re the embodiment of the songs Like a Tattoo by Sade and Leopard Limo by Alexa Demie, you’re like my “Leopard Limo” subliminal come to life, you’re everyone’s type even if they don’t think you are, everyone wants you in some way, you’re the dream girl of anyone who lays eyes on you, whenever someone dreams of a nice girlfriend or wife they immediately think of you, people always associate you with sugar and honey because of how visually and physically sweet you are, you’re the definition of “eye candy”. The Kardashians WISHED that they had the same amount of influence that you do, you’re constantly influencing people because they want to be just like you, you don’t necessarily make people “jealous” but they may be a little bit envious of you. You don’t care that people copy you anymore because why wouldn’t they? Someone like you (someone who’s not a basic b) is bound to set a trend for two.

— You’re like the perfect mixture of Alexa and Maddy, on one hand you’re sweet and peaceful but on the other you’re overly confident and a “c*nty bad bitch” as they say + you hold as much influence on others as they do. You basically run the school that you go to, it’s like you’re mysterious yet popular, every time you walk into school it’s like a slow motion scene of the hot girl walking in in a 2000s movie, everyday is like one of those scenes. Everyone can’t help but stop and stare and check you out, people genuinely fw your confidence, your confidence is always through the roof, you could walk through a huge group of boys and remain unfazed. Kind of embarrassing, but people really are doing the most just to get you to look at them, they don’t even care what they have to do to get your attention, they’re at a point where they’re making a complete fool out of themselves just to make you smile. A very small but important detail about you is that you’re completely immune to peaking in high school or college whatever you’re in if you’re still in school that is, you’re completely immune to being social unaware or socially awkward, one of the many things that people love about you is your quick responses, people love your personality and how you’re so good at talking to people.

— Your face is physical perfection, whatever you don’t like about you face is now being changed permanently. Your face and bones are being forcefully shaped and morphed to become whatever you desire + all of the benefits from Opia’s desiredful 1 and 2 (body affirmations looped twice). And personal affirmations for desired, long, thick and beautiful hair, hair type, pattern, thickness, and colour. Your hair turns into a 1A hair type/texture whenever you straighten/flat iron it + it moves, looks, and feels like natural 1A hair.

[hisui-dreamer]

promises of the future

Pairing: Ace Trappola x gn!reader

Synopsis: studying with ace isn't the best idea, but you can't deny the fact that you like spending time with him

Tags: fluff, study buddies, slow burn, pining, banter, bot proofread

Word count: 1.2k+

Notes: this was written in exchange for @ashipiko's nui art trade hehe. i hope i did ashi and ace's characterisation justice, and you'll enjoy the fluff!

also HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASHII, SO GLAD WE'RE MOOTS (⁠ノ*☆ｰ☆*⁠)ノ💕✨💖

Masterlist

In the midst of an emptied school during spring break, the last break before your final exams, you found yourself ensnared in a solitary routine of ceaseless studying and revision. Everyone's departure for the holiday break had left the school desolate, amplifying the silence that hung heavy in the air.

Knowing Grim's lack of patience with any theoretical magic, you had to put in extra effort to pull his weight as half of a student.

Days blurred into nights as you diligently pored over textbooks and scribbled notes, determined to grasp every morsel of knowledge that would be tested. It didn't help that so many of the topics alluded you completely. How could you understand magical energy and this world's history when you'd barely lived there for a year?

Just when the solitude threatened to suffocate your spirit, your phone buzzed with a message from Ace. The screen illuminated with his name, and a flicker of warmth ignited within you at the familiarity of his request.

"Can we call? I can't focus."

The familiarity of this request brought a smile to your face, reminiscent of the times you had spent together, studying late into the night during your many sleepovers ever since the sea anemone situation.

"Sure, give me a sec and I'll be in the call,"

The anticipation of hearing his voice, the joyful banter that always accompanied your study sessions, ignited a sense of exhilaration within you. Though Ace could be distracting and prone to bouts of foolishness, there was an undeniable connection that drew you towards him. And you couldn't deny that studying with him was always more enjoyable than studying alone.

With a renewed spirit, you prepared for the call, arranging your study materials and finding a comfortable spot amidst the sea of textbooks and scattered papers. Your fingers danced across the keyboard of the laptop gifted to you by Ortho and Idia, and the call connected, the familiar voice of Ace filling the void with warmth and familiarity.

"Heh, took you long enough. Are you still not used to the new computer?" His words carried a light-hearted tone, filled with gentle mockery.

Rolling your eyes in response, you retorted, "No dummy, I was just tidying my desk." Your voice held a touch of playful annoyance, the familiar banter between you and Ace flowing effortlessly. "So? Whatcha working on right now?"

A tired groan escaped from Ace's end of the line. "History... I hate it, it's so boring and it feels like I haven't learnt anything," he complained.

You chuckled at his groan. "Course it feels like that, you keep falling asleep in Trein's classes!" The image of Ace, Deuce, and Grim succumbing to the temptation of slumber and nodding off danced in your mind.

In a feeble attempt to defend himself, Ace retorted, "Hey, it's not my fault his voice is a lullaby! And it's not just me either, Deucey and Grim also doze off!"

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips as you couldn't help but reply, "Comparing yourselves to them just reinforces you three dumbasses are on the same level."

"Wha- Hey! You know for a fact I'm not as stupid as Juice is!"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, "You sure don't act like it sometimes." Swiftly cutting off any potential protest, you pressed on, "Anyways, let's start with History. I mean, considering you come from the Queendom of Roses, I assumed you'd know more about its history."

"Nah, every time I heard about the infamous Queen of Hearts and all that blah blah blah, it all seemed so boring to me."

You let out yet another sigh. "And knowing you, anything boring just isn't worth your time huh?"

"Bingo!" His laughter danced through the call.

"That's not something to be proud of, you idiot," you chided gently, a hint of exasperation lingering in your voice. "Well, true or false, the Queen of Hearts had rules where contradictions were the norm?"

"Huh? Uhhhh, false? I dunno," he replied, his uncertainty seeping through.

"Wha- no! She had to change rules occasionally to manage the madness of the kingdom," you explained. "Oh my god, why did I think studying with you would be a good idea?" you grumbled, frustration lacing your voice.

Ace, never one to lack confidence, responded with a playful tone, "Because I'm a genius, and you love me, duh."

Rolling your eyes at his audacity, you retorted, "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Sure..." and maybe there was more truth to that sentence than you liked to admit.

The two of you started quizzing each other on different facts, reviewing questions from your homework and comparing each other's answers. The room was filled with an atmosphere of focused determination, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter from ridiculous answers.

A comfortable silence fell over you two as you waited for him to finish answering the current question. Your eyes wandered to the window, starting at the dark front yard of Ramshackle dorm. The darkness outside seemed to wash a wave of uncertainty over you, and you pondered aloud, "I wonder what will happen to me if I can't go home."

The subtle scratching sound of pen and paper ceased from the call. Confused, Ace inquired, "What do you mean, what'll happen?"

You sighed, the weight of uncertainty settling upon you. "Well, let's say Crowley can't find a way back, yeah? I can't stay in NRC forever, right? I'll need to get a job and find somewhere to stay."

A brief pause hung in the air before Ace's voice pierced through, offering an unexpected solution, "Well, if it comes to that, why not just stay with me?"

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief, searching for words to respond to such a proposition. "Huh??" escaped your lips, a sound of surprise and confusion, while a delicate blush tinged your cheeks at the implications his words carried.

"You can just live with me! I wouldn't mind having someone to do the chores," Ace continued, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You couldn't help but scoff at the idea, a teasing remark escaping your lips, "Wow, what an incredibly generous offer. Though I'm not sure I can stand living with you."

Ace's voice carried a hint of mock offence as he playfully countered, "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" You could almost imagine him pouting at his end.

Attempting to defuse his offence, you replied innocently, "Nothing, nothing. Just kidding," you giggled. After a brief pause, your voice softened, barely above a murmur, "Thank you, I appreciate it."

Ace, ever the caring friend, responded with a hint of reassurance, "Heh, don't worry about it. I got your back, okay?"

A tender smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied sincerely, your voice infused with gratitude, "Thanks, Ace."

Realizing that the conversation had veered off course from its intended purpose, you swiftly refocused, "Okay, we've gotten too distracted. We need to get back to studying!"

Ace let out a playful scoff, "Pshh, party pooper. Alright, alright."

Despite your words, the prospect of a future with him continued to linger in your mind—a life of living together, splitting chores, and supporting each other. It seemed like an enticing idea, a sleepover that would never end, a path you could envision yourself contentedly walking.

Needless to say, even long after the conversation had shifted back to academics, your smile lingered at your future prospects, a budding affection for the ginger that never failed to make you feel appreciated.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[twistedtummies2]

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE! To celebrate in unusual fashion, I present a couple of ref pics for the last of my major Night Raven College OCs, at least for now. I have mentioned him time and time again, but never actually shown him off. Everyone…meet Grit Gravelle. Just like with Theodore and Maelstrom, this art was made by @twisted-brainrot. This was part of a trade that we arranged almost a year ago now; it was more than worth the wait. <3 Grit is based on the Nome King from the movie “Return to Oz” (who is, in turn, somewhat loosely based on the character of the same name from the original Oz books). Like many of my OCs, he is not all he seems at first glance: what you see before you is Grit’s human form. Grit is a half-human, half-Nome hybrid; Nomes, in this universe, are essentially rock monsters - Earth beings who dwell in caves under the ground, and are made of moving stone. They are also absolutely gigantic in size, and consider humans to be a natural form of prey. Grit’s father is a nobleman in the Nome Kingdom, and his mother is a human; the details of how they met and reproduced are sketchy, but as a result, Grit’s true form is a half-human, half-rock monster of gigantic proportions; able to swallow people whole in a single bite, if he chooses.

The word “duplicitous” best suits Grit’s personality. When you first meet him, he’s usually actually quite pleasant. He’s polite, amiable, helpful, and has a sort of impish charm at times; he seems like a pretty nice guy. All of this, however, is a total sham: underneath that seemingly benevolent exterior, Grit has a heart made of stone (perhaps literally). He is sadistic, sneaky, manipulative, and treacherous. He legitimately enjoys causing pain for others who cross him. You can’t trust him as far as you can throw him, and that’s not likely to be very far. However, he isn’t COMPLETELY evil, no more than any of the others at NRC: much of Grit’s cold-blooded untrustworthiness comes from the fact that he, himself, has a difficult time trusting others. More specifically, Grit has a hard time trusting humans and other surface-dwellers.

When Grit was a boy, he always harbored a sort of contempt and distrust for surface-dwelling people. He was envious of them, in some ways, and repulsed by them in others. However, he has always deeply cared for his human mother, Emma. His mother is blind, and Grit is very, VERY protective of her. He sees her as the finest human in the universe, and the only human to whom he shows REAL respect and affection.

Grit’s Unique Magic is called “Ornamentation.” This power allows him to transform any living creature - plant or animal - into a small sculpture; an ornament. The spell can only be broken either by Grit’s direct choice, or by someone placing their hand upon the ornament and speaking the person’s name.

A few fun facts to note: Grit’s stomach actually glows, and this glow is visible through his skin. Inside his belly, his stomach juices have a naturally fluorescent orange hue, almost resembling lava, and his stomach muscles are colored black, with glowing red veins and arteries creating zig-zagging patterns, almost resembling fissures in cooling molten rock. However, his mouth and part of the way down the throat resemble a normal human maw and gullet (minus his sharp, fang-like teeth). Also, I decided to make Grit a big muscular beefcake because…well…it made him different from all my other OCs, really. I had several who were sort of slender and curvaceous, and a couple who were different degrees of plump and chubby, so I thought making him have “rock hard abs” would not only be fun for the sake of silly wordplay, but help to make him different from the rest of the cast. TB was kind enough to draw Grit not only in his “casual” outfit, but also topless, so you can get a nice look at those muscles, and the glow from his belly.

[emblemxeno]

Xenoblade 1 DE Main Story/Game Thoughts

Finished the main story! I didn't go full completion but I got full affinity for all areas and saw every Heart-to-Heart. More detailed thoughts-including spoilers-under the cut!

-For starters, DE is a great update to the original. Many QoL improvements trims the extra menu time down a lot (inventory management, art books, equipment/gems, etc.), especially swapping gems. Also hell yes to including the appearance feature from X, as someone who prefers the default outfits for everyone!

-Same applies to battle stuff and general gameplay. Quest tracking, gauges on things like Break and Topple, clearer status effects, chance arts being highlighted, even something as small as the scroll between Talent Arts/Running/Chain Attacks being more streamlined had many great returns on me not pressing the wrong thing.

-However... why did they not just go all the way with more changes? The two big ones that come to mind are trading and Colony 6 collecting. First, why can you not bulk trade? It is such a time sink having to constantly open the menu again and again. And since trading and skip travelling share a button, I clocked probably over a hundred instances of opening the damn map menu instead of trading since there's a second of cooldown before the option appears for the NPC again! It's an annoyance that is easily ignored once or twice, but absolutely brutal after the tenth time.

-Jumping ahead a bit, but I speak not just criticizing DE but XC1 as a whole. It's probably an unpopular opinion but I don't like the ongoing Colony 6 reconstruction sidequest. The first time I completed it-about half a decade ago I think-was magical! Seeing a ruined home blossom into a lively city due to my hard work was something I'll never forget as an RPG fan. But I don't have that kind of time on my hands anymore (or I simply have better management of time now that I don't stay up til 4 am playing video games anymore lol). Exploring Bionis and Mechonis is an undeniably wondrous and beautiful experience, but only when doing normal quests (well most of the normal quests) and progressing the story. Jogging around places trying to find each item is incredibly unfun and tedious. The big offenders are typically Ice Cabbages (luckily I got all the ones I need by playing through the Valak portion of the story), Rainbow Slugs (I spent an entire hour on the Fallen Arm ugh), and the Black Liver Beans. The last one was the breaking point, I can't stand the Bionis Interior and after an hour in there just trying to find one, I said fuck it and did the Time Attack trials to get them that way. It was just not... good! I don't like it a bit.

-Last thing on DE specifically, I found that the graphics are apparently controversial among fans? I'm understanding of the position, as there's definitely a charm that the original artstyle had, especially being on the Wii. But to me the original has more issues in its visuals than just being a different artstyle. Poor resolution, blocky models, souless faces when not in an important cutscene, absolutely diabolical pop-in. And some say that the original gave its characters more personality during cutscenes, which... I don't get whatsoever. Did we watch the same scenes, cuz it's very hard to distinguish emotion in the original, whereas DE has better mouth, eyebrow, and facial movements. Certain scenes may "look" more emotional in the original, but things get exaggerated all the time to compensate for poor resolution or graphics.

-Now on to the just XC1 in general! Holy fuck the main cast is better than I remember. Shulk, Fiora, and Melia were already my favorites, but honestly... Dunban is probably my absolute favorite out of all of them now. His story is just so succinct and he's just so cool and hot and kind and just ughhhhhh!

-Egil is still best villain in the game, no surprise. Revisiting this game honestly made it really fucking clear why I loved Dimitri from 3H so much cuz the two are so similar (to the point where you can pull line's from the game about Egil and put them in 3H). The others fair less well. Metal Face/Mumkhar is delightfully hammy and an amazing threat for the first half of the game, but is as deep as a puddle. Dickson and Lorithia I found I dislike even more, for the wrong reasons; they lack charisma, and it's noticeable in places where the game gets really anime in its hammy villainy, but they're written and played a bit too straight for it to come off as anything other than lackluster. Though at least Dickson has presence as Shulk's caretaker and the guy who everyone knows and respects; Lorithia though? Throw her away. Honestly if Yumea took her place and retained the bigotry against Homs it'd be much more entertaining IMO.

-Zanza himself is a definitive mixed bag. Were I ignorant to Klaus' entire story from XC2, I'd honestly write him off as a by-the-numbers arrogant (but secretly imperfect and prone to "human" folly) god figure that happens in many, many RPGS. But I can't dislike him because I do know the entire story, and Zanza being an utter dickwad is explained in great detail and makes sense. Honestly, he does work for the story that XC1 is telling without playing XC2 as well, but ehhh. I guess it's just really difficult to be the main villain after Egil does such great things in a limited time.

-Narrative is great, just as it was the first time I played. Highlights for me:

Singlemindedly fighting for revenge is destructive not just to your enemies, but to yourself and your friends. Ignorance and unwillingness to look beyond your own world or history means you may be hurting innocent people without realizing it. Chaining your life to the deaths of others rather than supporting the survivors is unhealthy and can lead you down a path of misery and disaster.

Ether is not just analogy for carbon/other base elements in our world. Philosophically it's analogous to light and fate as well. Shulk unlocks the Monado's powers when he stops treating it as a tool with functions, but rather as an extension of his will. He wills his wishes into his heart, and they are made manifest. He protects Reyn with Shield not cuz the Monado lets him, but because he desired it. Same with Sharla and Speed, and it's how Alvis taught him to unlock Purge. It's how he resists Apocrypha, and later gains Cyclone once the Apocrypha is destroyed. His will is so strong, it becomes resistant to Zanza's influence, hence why he starts suffering the more he learns of Mechonis' history. The truth being brought to light is painful internally and externally, as Zanza physically rejects anything that challenges how he sees the world. Shulk brings himself back to life, begins having visions without Zanza, and gains his own Monado-which looks purely made of ether and light-through pure willpower and the desire to create his own future.

Shulk's duality and inner turmoil when he realizes his yearning for revenge is destructive; Fiora's endless strength of heart when dealing with a machine body and carrying on Meyneth's wishes; Melia going through hell and back trying to find a balance between her sense of self and sense of duty (I imagine Future Connected is gonna touch on that more as well); Dunban grappling with his moniker of being a hero and mentoring the party despite being imperfect and lamenting his disability; Reyn's goal of being a protector developing into being a supporter once he becomes insecure over his strength and character compared to Shulk; Sharla trying to keep hold onto a sense of hope that her love is alive before coming to terms with the fact that she needs to cherish her life and love those within it; Riki just being the fucking best dad and friend in the world.

Having played XC2 and XC3 makes all these things even richer as well.

-Last but not least, gameplay:

-Most quests are good. Most. The generic quests weren't ever fun for me, and they cause significant bloat that could've been trimmed IMO. Especially since lots of quests ask you to kill monsters and collect items anyway.

-The method to get quests started though? Awful. I know that things like Community in Torna and Field Skills in XC2 are hated, but man I can't stand having to change the clock and track the damn NPCs in XC1. Especially since there are many areas separated between towns/villages and "wild" areas (Colony 6 and Bionis Leg, Frontier Village and Makna, Alcamoth and Eryth + Valak), it just makes things so drawn out. Going back and forth, changing time and all that, is a sour point on this game.

-Like I said a few weeks ago, the Xenoblade series as a whole is unmatched in gameplay story telling. Beautiful and large environments make curious exploration a treat, especially as you start getting pieces to puzzles that can get completed later. I payed a lot more attention to the High Entia and Giant related sidequests due to the fascinating lore, for example.

-The fights are great, if a bit centralizing. Shulk, due to Monado arts, is the best character to have in the party and is sorely missed when switched out. I have pretty standard opinions on the rest of the characters, so no need to speak on each individually. I will say though, holy fuck is the AI just as bad as I remember. Shulk wastes his Monado gauge, Sharla is terrible at using arts and always puts herself into cooldown, and Melia for the love of god, stop firing elementals as soon as you summon them you're made of tissue.

Topple locking is deffo the prime strategy, cuz there were fights I wouldn't otherwise have won were it not for it, and thankfully Reyn and Dunban have pretty good AI.

Two major gripes though. Spikes are a terrible mechanic, gross. Second, I hate that the enemy tags affect accuracy, it makes certain quests extremely brutal to complete without grinding. And I just hate having to fight tough/overlevelled enemies as a whole, it becomes routine and simple after a while.

As a whole, I like the gameplay still, but it feels very restrictive going back to it after seeing all the crazy tricks I could do in 2 and 3. And also auto-attack arts > timer arts forever and ever.

-Overall a very great experience getting to replay this game like this. Though more rough points than I remember, and with certain things that have not aged well whatsoever , XC1 is still a good game that I'm glad introduced me to this series. I'm taking a break before playing Future Connected.

[lukabrina-viperhound]

Never Love An Anchor - Prologue:

Luka Couffaine was drowning. months of plotting and rallying and carefully preparing, all gone down the great blue ocean, along with his body and soon, his soul.

and just as he is about to accept his fate, while closing his eyes and ceasing his struggle to stay afloat, he catches a glimpse of brilliant orange and shimmering teal, swimming his way quickly.

He awoke to a gorgeous face haloed by the glaring sun, with too many questions and not enough air in his lungs to ask any of them, he began coughing up saltwater.

“Oh, oh my. Are you alright? I'm not sure humans are supposed to do that. Not that I’ve really drowned any myself to know for sure…” The gorgeous face spoke with an equally lovely voice. So lovely, in fact, that it took Luka a second to process the disturbing nature of the sentence.

“What-“ he had to cough and heave and cough again before continuing breathlessly. “What are you?” But the question was redundant. He was saved from drowning by a beautiful woman with a melodious voice who, by her own admission, was expected to drown humans. something she herself was not.

His savior was a siren.

“Calm down, sailor. If I wanted you dead then I wouldn't have bothered saving you, now would I?” the beautiful siren reassured him.

“That’s not nearly as hopeful a sentiment as you believe it to be. After all, what could a siren want with a man that she keeps him alive for?” Luka found himself arguing against his favor in his anxiety.

“The only hunger I wish to satiate with you, sailor - “ the siren leaned in close with the top half of her body, honeyed voice laced with a dangerous edge, closing in on his waist and allowing the suggestive nature of her words to linger for only a moment before innocently submerging her body back in the water and completing her sentence, “is my curiosity!”

“Curiosity? Of what kind?” Luka asked, suspicious and still a bit flustered.

“Oh, just the healthy, intellectual kind.” She explained readily, smirking subtly at having riled him up so successfully over nothing. The other sirens thought her a boring prude, but she just made a sailor blush! “A seafaring man such as yourself, one I found drowning no less, surely has some stories to tell?” She finished her explanation, phrasing the ending more like an invitation, perhaps a request.

What could she say? She loved unraveling a good mystery.

“And what exactly is in it for me if I tell you my whole sad story? You getting entertainment at the expense of me reliving my trauma hardly sounds like a fair trade.” Luka shot back, now slightly more at ease despite his better judgment and bantering freely.

“What? Does my excellent companionship not suffice? You do realize I could've just left once I rescued you and you'd be all alone here for who knows how long. As I've said, I'm no human expert, but even I know you don't do well in isolation.” Her words had a teasing edge to them, something about her tone letting him know that leaving him behind and alone was never an option for her. He found himself feeling just as curious about her as she was about him.

“Be that as it may, I still feel like this isn't an equal exchange. So what if we came to an agreement?” Making a deal with any sort of magical creature was dangerous business, but the siren was right about one thing. It's not like he was going anywhere anytime soon, so he might as well take a chance.

Sabrina's smile widened in excitement and her tail splashed around in the water. “I'm listening…”

“Ask me a question about myself, and I will endeavor to answer to the best of my ability. Then, I ask you one of my many questions and you give me some much-needed answers about yourself. Does that sound acceptable?”

“hmmm… well, sailor, you drive a hard bargain. But I believe you've got yourself a deal!”

Art by the wonderful @the-lavender-creator who helped inspire this fic, along with this song;

[amessageonthewind]

New Horizons

Pairing: Connor/Hannah 1 year after being married.

Word Count: 1360

My half of my art trade with @nerdstreak

Skylines had quickly become a favourite of the Anderson household. Well, more accurately the love for them had been reignited once new life had taken residence in the household that had been previously haunted by the natural oppressive presence of grief, blame, and guilt. The solitude only amplified the suffocating nature of such a haunting.

The home was plagued by solitude no longer, now that Lieutenant Hank Anderson had acquired (though, more accurately adopted) two androids. Something he never thought he’d ever do.

Not until he’d met Connor and Hannah. It was a strange set of circumstances he’d found himself in and he had no choice but to deal with them, though Connor was way more of a pain in the ass. Actually…Hannah was nothing but a sweetheart, to be frank. The fact that she was his android for a while did make him a bit uncomfortable, but once she had deviated and still chose to stay with him in his home, he’d felt not even an echo of that discomfort in quite some time.

Now, these two were like family. They’d only been a part of the lieutenant’s life for a comparatively short time, but their inclusion in it left nothing left to be desired for someone as weathered as he was. For a while, the Anderson household was completely devoid of community. And now, community was all it ever saw.

Case and point, Riverside Park. What was once a painful reminder of the loss that Hank had suffered had now become a place of new beginnings. Hannah was standing by the railings of the park, easel set up and painting the skyline. She was experimenting with painting a picture using one colour in various shades and saturations while including whatever fleeting thoughts pass through her mind during the painting process. She may have been an android designed to copy art pieces by the man who previously owned her, but her artistic merit could not be understated…and she had only grown more and more skilled every day.

It had been roughly a year since Hannah and Connor had gotten married, Markus having officiated the wedding and Hank being proud to be asked to walk her down the aisle. Androids were just starting out, developing their own distinct culture, customs, and traditions all on their own. Some of them borrowed from human culture – after all, humans did create them and maybe over time, androids would become more and more divorced from human culture as they began to properly evolve and grow on their own – while others adamantly refused to.

Hank couldn’t possibly keep up with all of it, interesting though it was, but he was perfectly content supporting the pair of them.

On the bench, Hank and Connor were both contentedly observing Hannah while she painted. He was enjoying the atmosphere and the sounds of the hustle and bustle of the park and the bridge in the distance. Meanwhile Connor’s eyes were squarely on his wife. He was a man who valued details, as per his function and his naturally curious personality. It was hard not to take in every detail of his wife, the furrow of her brow and the focus in her eyes, every deliberate stroke of her brush delivered through avenue of her delicate hands.

And, of course, the art piece itself, a picture pulled from her mind’s eye so complex and unknown even to herself, like many androids who were living in this new world of deviancy and free will. Every detail and fleeting thought depicted on the canvas told him of everything that went on around and even inside Hannah.

Even without speaking, his world expanded every time he even so much looked at her. It was easy for Connor to sink into it as he gazed at her. So much so that he almost didn’t realize that Hank was speaking to him. “I’m sorry?”

“Jeez, I’m not used to you actually getting distracted. But it’s been a long time since I’ve seen people look at each other the way you two do, so I can’t really complain.” Hank gruffly joked, a jovial tone in his voice as he chuckled in affectionate amusement at the android he’d come to see as a son. “I was just asking if you and Hannah thought about maybe going on a late honeymoon or something since you two got hitched.”

Connor tilted his head a bit. He heard of the concept and he was aware of it, but he had never really considered it personally. It sounded pleasant, upon reflection. It just simply hadn’t crossed his mind until now. “We haven’t discussed it previously, why?”

Hank simply shrugged, pursing his lips underneath his grayed beard for a moment before he leaned back against the bench, pale eyes reflecting the colour of the sky cast back to it. “Just wondering. It’s not important or anything, it’s just…a nice thing to sorta go off on your own somewhere with your partner and not have to worry about any responsibilities or work and just be with them. Away from the rest of the world, y’know?” He replied. It had been a while since he’d even thought about his ex-wife and she’d been out of his life for so long that she was nothing more than a neutral footnote in his mind.

But, it was nice to actually have something of a reason to think about stuff like this. Hannah and Connor deserved to know all the nice parts of being in a relationship and being married. He just figured he’d float some options to them if they were interested. There weren’t a lot of travel options for androids, still, but they could probably plan something if they wanted to go for it. Hank could handle being alone better now than he used to, now that his house felt like a home, again.

Ruminating on the covert suggestion that Hank had offered, though hesitant to interrupt his wife, Connor got up from his seat and discreetly made his way towards her, hands folded neatly behind his back, thumb fiddling with the wedding finger snugly fit onto its respective finger. The very same one that glinted in the light on Hannah’s hand as she painted.

He was about to speak up to get her attention when he paused to observe her painting. Amongst the hues of blue were little shapes and silhouettes of everything that was going on around her – children running and playing with their families, birds, dogs, and of course…planes.

One of which was followed by a trail of little bright blue hearts that dotted the canvas brightest among all the hues and shades. Hannah, of course, was neither blind nor deaf. She had overheard Connor’s conversation with Hank on the park bench and a soft warm smile was gracing her lips as she set her brush down, turning to meet her beloved husband’s soft gaze.

Naturally, he knew instantly that she’d overheard him and patiently waited for her response. “I haven’t really thought about it much, myself. But…I think it’s a great idea. Just going off somewhere, you and me, and not having to worry about anything else. Just us for a little while. Don’t you?”

Gaze flitting between the beautiful azure canvas of the Detroit skyline dotted with all of the immediate experiences around her, he gave her his signature lopsided grin, reaching for her hand and bending down to kiss her forehead, a contented hum accompanying the affectionate and loving gesture. “I think so, too.”

Chuckling in satisfaction, Hank leaned back and crossed his arms, eyes grazing the skyline again. Man…this placed used to be somewhere so painful. Somewhere that reopened old scars. A place he used for the same purpose he used alcohol.

Now, it was a place that bandaged those wounds and allowed them to heal…and he owed it to these two. He might not live nearly as long as they would, especially at his age, but he had every confidence that they would live a long and happy life together.

So finally, he could say without a doubt that Hank Anderson would die a happy man.

[skylermadness]

Illegal Hiring Practices (Anthro Bullet Bill TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: August 5, 2023)

Original Description:

My half of a trade with guacandchips on DeviantArt/FurAffinity. Their half can be found here: DeviantArt / FurAffinity This story is directly based on artwork drawn by ArticulatedArtisan! The original art can be found here: DeviantArt / FurAffinity Another trade complete! This one was honestly really fun to work on. So fun that I ended up accidentally writing what accumulated 16 pages and 7.3k words on the document. Either way, I'm really proud of how this one turned out! Especially since this is probably the first time I've written TF of a character that is moreso a generic mook than anything else. But I think that's where the appeal really came in, especially with the MC. Plus a very unique anthropomorphization in terms of design as well, really made me put more thought into the head changes! This story just contained so many unique systems to work with... Definitely one of my more favorite solo stories of the year! Overall, a very enjoyable story to write and a very fun trade to be had! I honestly wouldn't mind doing something else like this again~ Rated Mature for described bulge/nullge.

   Bowser's Castle was always considered to be one of the land's most heavily guarded fortresses. With its strong usage of lava pits and an assortment of traps, alongside the various guards constantly roaming the premises, the castle grounds were a place that would usually be considered of high difficulty to penetrate. Right now, however, the halls of the castle were uncharacteristically empty. Very few of Bowser's minions could be found patrolling the grounds, and it would seem there was quite a staggeringly low number of them that made up the current army serving the fierce Koopa king. And now up in a hallway that was within the higher levels of the castle, a discussion was being had about this strange occurrence by two of the highest ranking individuals in the kingdom. The sounds of a mixture of light and heavy steps bounce off the gray bricks in an echo as the talk unfolds.

   "It's uh, evident that forces in the kingdom have been dwindling drastically, my king…" one of the voices reports. Higher in pitch and nasally in tone; it was one that belonged to a short, blue-robed, and bespectacled koopa by the name of Kamek.

   The deep and booming voice of the Koopa king, Bowser, responds not long after the report is given. "Is there any particular reason that we can't just get more?"

   "Well there is a the finite supply of people in this kingdom, and it has grown fairly obvious that we just can't seem to hold much of their loyalty anymore-"

   "And what do you mean by that?" Bowser spits out, a noticeable fury formulating in his tone of voice.

   A bit of sweat forms on Kamek's brow as he instantly notices the change in tone. "W-well, they are getting tired of the constant amounts of injuries and hazardous encounters th-that ensue during your schemes, m-my King."

   Bowser lets out a dismissive snort. "They get better, don't they?"

   "Y-yes, by the repetition of it all-"

   "Their complaints are on repetition?" Bowser stops walking to turn towards the magikoopa advisor, "They are the ones that signed up to be in this army, and they are the ones that swore loyalty to me-"

   The feeling of betrayal was tangible in Bowser's voice. He was being given such weak reasons behind deciding to drop out what is easily one of the most powerful armies in this land! The only one that could defeat them is that blasted plumber, but it's only a matter of time before they slip up and Bowser can get the drop on them!

   The Koopa king clenches his fists, claws digging into the scales of his palms. "Pathetic," he turns away and continues walking. "All of them, pathetic! Their weakness is tarnishing the Koopa Kingdom's name and reputation at this point!"

   One of the king's hefty fists slams into the wall of the hallway, Kamek letting out a yelp due to the sudden act of aggression. A couple seconds later he speaks up again in an attempt to calm his lord, "N-now, my king, I'm sure we can-"

   "I don't need excuses, Kamek!" Bowser's arm slowly removes itself from the crack he punched into the wall. "Just imagine what the other kingdoms see in me now! A ruler who can't even keep his own men under his control. Ooh, and think about how pathetic I might look now in the eyes of Peach…"

   Bowser's anger dripped into self-loathing, Kamek mentally making note of that and seizing this as an opportunity to spitball some ideas. "W-well, we are in an intermission between schemes. We have the time to replenish our forces!"

   Bowser glared at the magikoopa. "Your reports seem to imply that idea is an impossibility. Loyalty is waning, and if I can't keep hold of that I can't maintain an entire army."

   "I mean, you have me," Kamek says, seemingly in an attempt of reassurance.

   "I don't need your pity-"

   The feeling of reassurance drops instantaneously. "No, I mean you have me, one of the most powerful mages in this kingdom. We could easily use my magic to propagate and restore the kingdom's army to its former glory!"

   Bowser stayed silent for a few seconds, seemingly trying to rationalize the idea in his head. "That… that could work! Bring my army back- oh, or even better, make them stronger. Loyaler…"

   "E-exactly!" Kamek brings out his wand. "It'd be rather easy- I could probably turn any of the dissenters back onto our side!"

   "Mmmm," a low rumble of concern escapes Bowser's throat. "I feel as if that isn't a permanent solution, though…"

   "Wha…?"

   "Well, I mean, wouldn't something inevitably happen if we try to use magic on people from this world? That plumber always has his way around finding some way to undo whatever spell might be cast. I worry he would just come in and ruin everything we rebuild, especially if he were to find out about it…"

   A silence descends into the hallway, both koopas now lost in thought as they try to come up with a way to circumvent the brought up problem. But after a couple seconds Kamek's eyes widened, an idea popping into his head.

   "Then we don't use this world! It'd be quite easy to use magic to travel to so many others…" A devious smile begins creeping onto his snout. "While my knowledge on other worlds is a bit lacking, there's one that intrigues me…" he stops talking to chuckle a bit at the thought entering his mind.

   Bowser raises a brow, curious. "What are you planning?"

   Kamek fully smiles. "Earth. There'd be quite an abundance of people there that I can easily influence with my magic. Humans have always been quite susceptible to magical influences after all. Physical… mental…"

   Bowser's own eyes begin to widen in realization, followed by a sinister, toothy grin forming on his muzzle. "Yes, that sounds like the perfect plan!"

   The king fully turns towards Kamek and points forward. "I hereby order you to head to Earth and enact this plan of yours! And don't think about coming back until we have a new army that rivals the strength of the older one!"

   "Of course, my king…" Kamek bows before Bowser before fully unveiling his wand, a reddish-purple glow beginning to emanate from the gem encrusted atop it…

                                        ----------------------------------------------------------

   Oranges and reds had set the sky ablaze as the sun's descent can be seen through the glass of the massive window that made up one of the office space's walls.

   A stark silence is noticeable within this space. Despite the room's size, it's evident that there didn't initially appear to be any signs of life within it. Considering just how late the day was it could easily be presumed that anyone working here would have gone home for the day. However, the fragility of the silence gets easily broken…

   "Crap, just how late is it?" a voice asks in a low mutter.

   Within one of the cubicles of this office space was a singular person. This person was Bill, a young adult man with swept back, brown hair; wearing a simple light blue polo shirt and jeans; and focusing intensely on the Excel sheet open on his computer. Although it also would seem he was winding down whatever work was being done, the man typing slower as whatever documenting that was being done was coming to a close.

   Bill had found himself working overtime for the night as he was given the brunt of documenting a good chunk of paperwork that was required to be completed soon for the insurance firm he worked at. Not necessarily a favorite job of his, but it would seem he was the only person in the immediate offices that had any expertise in Excel. If he were being honest though, such an assignment was more than tiresome for him.

   A yawn escapes Bill's mouth as his hand reaches over to the computer's mouse in order to save the document. By the time his eyes refocus he couldn't help but glance at the computer's clock. 8PM…

   He gets up from his chair and stretches, eyes catching a glimpse of the sunset outside. By now he also comes to the realization that he's legitimately the only person left in the office. "Great, everyone else must've gone home already."

   He yawns again before putting on the darker cyan jacket that hung from the back of his chair. He gazes at some more physical paperwork that adorned his desk, mind contemplating if he should take that home or just leave it here for tomorrow. Unfortunately, his overachiever tendencies seem to win out here as he reaches towards the papers with both hands and levels them on the table before slipping them into his satchel that he kept beside his work computer.

   "Going to work myself to death at this point, aren't I…?" he said with a slight smile. He jokes, but if anything he was just going to pass out once he got home.

   With everything packed the young man extends a finger towards the computer's power button, fully ready to shut it off and leave for home. He doesn't seem to get the chance, however, as the computer (alongside seemingly everything else in the office) is turned off simultaneously in some kind of power outage. Bill's head proceeds to shoot up to look over the dividers of his cubicle, the man finding the room almost completely dark with the exception of what outside illumination penetrated the windows.

   "What the…?"

   His ears then catch onto the sound of electricity crackling at the far end of the room. His head slowly turns to the supposed source, and he begins moving his body out of his cubicle and towards where he's hearing the sound. It seemed like it was coming from the hallway that led to this office space. Bill steps out slowly from the lanes of the cubicles and towards the hallway entrance. The sounds of electric crackles only intensified the more he grew closer, a lingering feeling of eeriness now entered the man. Was there some kind of weird electrical problem going on? Is he going to have to call the builder's repair technician or something? …does the building have a repair technician? Eventually he reaches the threshold dividing the office space from the hallway, but he stops walking as his eyes widen in shock at what he finds in the hallway.

   A small, sparking ball of purple and red light floats a few feet away from the threshold. Crackles and pops eerily emanate from it as it idles there, stationary.

   "What the heck is-"

   He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The ball of light almost instantly starts rapidly expanding, and Bill is forced to shield his eyes as the mysterious object goes off like some sort of explosive flash bang. A massive BOOM! resonated throughout the area, force causing the man to tumble onto the ground while everything was momentarily engulfed in a purple luminescence. The blast of light then shrinks back into itself, imploding just as fast as it exploded.

   Bill groans, starting to attempt to get up off the ground and blinking his eyes in a panicked haze as he tries to regain an understanding of his surroundings. The room was illuminated back to its previous state, an indicator that the power had been restored after that explosion. There wasn't any debris or anything though. He also could smell… smoke? Panic welling up again, he jumps back to his feet and turns around to find a massive cloud of smoke billowing from the threshold. Thankfully there was no fire, but there was a small and dim glow within the smoke, and accompanying that glow was a series of coughs followed by a voice.

   "Agh, long distance travel is always so explosive-"

   Bill steps back. "Wha- who's there??"

   He doesn't get a response. All he gets is that dim glow stopping before slowly moving forward through the smoke, ominous and terrifying. The shadow of a figure then starts to make itself known, the shape looking to be extremely triangular. Bill continues moving back as the shadow steps closer, and closer, and closer…

   The eeriness then comes to a screeching halt as the figure appears to trip over itself, flopping out of the fog face first to reveal a weird reptilian being in glasses and some kind of wizard's hat. The creature descends into a coughing fit shortly after, wheezing and gasping for air. "Too much smoke, too much smoke!!!"

   Against better judgment Bill steps forward to get a better look at the creature. He's startled backwards again though as the creature snaps it's head from off the ground to seemingly glaring at his direction.

   "I-I don't mean any harm!" Bill says, panicked. Of course he didn't, but did the creature share that intention?

   The strange reptile tilts its head, then practically jumps back to its feet while dusting off its robe. This allowed Bill to realize just how small the being was in comparison to him.

   "Bah, of course you don't mean any harm. All you humans are so soft and squishy…" the creature speaks in a nasally voice.

   "'You humans'?" Bill repeated. "Are you some kind of alien or something??"

   The reptile seemed to deadpan at that. "Alien… I'm Kamek, and you'll make sure to remember that."

   The young man swallowed a forming lump in his throat. Perhaps exchanging pleasantries meant he could try and be friendly with this thing? "O-oh! I'm uh, Bill…?"

   "Bill?" Kamek repeats almost judgmentally. "Cliché, but I can work with that…"

   "Work with- just what are you doing here??"

   Kamek's brows ascended a bit before descending, as if it were some kind of indicator of an eye roll behind his glasses. "I don't have the time for explanations," he then points his wand straight at Bill, "Now let's just get this over with, then I can be off to continue my job!"

   Bill takes a second too long to comprehend what was going on while Kamek waves his wand, a reddish-purple light exuding from the spherical gemstone atop it. All the man could yell out was a panicked, "W-wait!" before a red beam of magic shot out from the wand and engulfed Bill's form.

   A couple seconds passed before the magic dissipated around him and the beam slunk back into the object. Kamek now had a very noticeable look of satisfaction on his face, meanwhile Bill just felt… weird.

   "A-agh, what was that…?"

   He didn't get an answer though. All he did get was a budding feeling of something welling up inside him. Like his body was slowly beginning to get packed and overstuffed with something. In truth, that was just the magic starting to course its way throughout Bill's body…

   The strange feeling he felt was one that overtook his entire body. The effects of the magic seemed to be one that surged through the entirety of his form all at the same time, an event that was signaled by strips of red light emanating off his form. 

   One of the first visible changes on his body was with the appearance of splotches of discoloration across his skin. Bits of darkness slowly began to form in his body and face, meanwhile there was a contrasting whiteness that was forming at the very tips of his fingers. The changes in tone would be followed by a more drastic type of physical shift after a few seconds passed, however.

   The clean white continued to etch down Bill's fingers, the splotches continuing to travel their way downwards to reach his hands proper. At the same time there was also a series of changes in size that washed over his hands. With the change in coloration quickly overtaking all of his fingers, each one was prompted to thicken in size. Each passing moment caused the appendages to get chunkier, plumper in comparison to their previously thinner form. Alongside that was a weird change in biology, the mysterious white seemingly making the cells in his skin harden and shift into something that wasn't quite human. A certain smoothness slowly made its way across each appendage, fingernails getting glossed over and assimilated into the newly established texture as if these changes were attempting to wipe out any imperfections in his form.

   His fingers weren't the only things changing though, as both of his hands were mirroring the transformation that was occurring. Palms stretched out in all directions as they were forced to grow in length and width. A sizable meatiness was in the process of packing onto them as well, muscles progressively thickening in size within that region to match the growing proportions of his fingers. All the while the increasing paleness of his skin only grew more prevalent, skin smoothing over more and more while the creases in his palms were washed away by the progressing wave of white. 

   Even more splotches of discoloration continued to form across his entire body, his arms easily getting dotted by the formulation of stark white while the muscles within them were in the process of getting stimulated to grow in size. A tightness was in the process of budding within the long sleeves of his jacket as a bulkiness was slowly being added into his arms. Within his forearms the muscles that composed of his flexors and extensors thickened, easily extending and expanding outwards with each passing moment. This was starting to cause a tremendous strength to surge within his newly developing muscles, power and heat cycling throughout them in some kind of magic-fueled current.

   This would only continue to progress as this constant feeling of sheer power was built up within his form. While muscles formed in his lower arms, they had also been forming beyond his elbows and within his upper arms as well. His jacket sleeves continued to tighten, his biceps bulging outwards while his triceps grew in tandem alongside them. Creases already began forming within the deep cyan fabric as his newfound musculature developed more and more, growing out further to the point it began looking like he actively worked out. Seams tighten across his swelling limbs, small rips steadily forming across the boundary between sleeve and jacket due to his now increasingly developing deltoid muscles. The ends of his shoulders were in the process of steadily broadening in size, only growing out rounder and heavier with each passing second.

   The rest of his shoulders had not been exempt from this intense transformation either as his overall form had concurrently been broadening as all these changes occurred. It wasn't long after the initial blast that Bill's polo shirt had started to strain against his form, the two buttons of the placket easily pinging off the shirt thanks to his thickening torso. This allowed the first few changes in his chest to be visible, a slight cleavage having formed in the middle of it while splotches of black and gray started to tint his skin.

   Spots of gray were entering the young man's face too, a pressure steadily budding in the front of his skull as the tonal changes stretched across the lower area of his face. "Wh-what's going on?? Why does my… everything feel so tight!?"

   Eyes darted around as he tried to make sense of the situation. A glance at his hands proved how large they have gotten, a smooth white shine having almost completely overtaken them. He slowly moved his focus up his arms, watching as his muscles grew out to fill his sleeves, them continuing to do so as the ridges that divided his continuously developing muscle mass etched themselves into the fabric of his jacket. The sight of such an occurrence caused so many thoughts to swim in Bill's head. What had Kamek done to him? Why?? And what was even going to become of him after this???

   "Try not to worry too much," Kamek's voice resonates from in front of him in what he felt was an almost mocking tone. "You're going to be of quite some use to us!"

   Bill could only blink in response to the words. "W-what does that even mean?"

   All he gets is a smirk on the reptilian entity's face, the said entity just watching as their magic continues to do its work. Bill could feel a constant welling up of strength in his chest, his shirt continuing to be forced to stretch further over his torso while the muscles within it built up over time.

   The cleavage he had developed in the middle of his chest continued to grow prominent while slowly indenting itself into his polo more. The tightness of his shirt had also been progressing steadily, getting even more prevalent with the swelling that was going on in his pectorals. Muscle mass steadily accumulated in the region as both pecs were in the process of growing out. A solid firmness had entered them both as they swelled forward, further pressing into his shirt as it all more easily outlined in the light blue fabric. Such a strong meatiness was just slipped into his pectorals with ease, although the two hard slabs of meat would soon start to get glossed over by the changes in his skin, smoothing out and gaining a practically metallic shine to them.

   The same thing was happening to Bill's lower torso as well with another crease forming in his shirt. This time however it was because of his abdomen pressing forward. More development being put into it each passing second, hard abs bubbling and rippling forward in a gradual and almost sequential matter in how they rose from his once flat stomach. One set of two manifesting straight beneath his pecs, growing forward before another set formed and followed that example. Another couple seconds would pass before a third set repeated that event. All the while the muscles in his side slightly burned as his obliques were forced into a workout, his form somehow getting a little wider in the process. This had caused his polo to just strain more, the amount of pressure being put into it causing a few rips and tears to form in the fabric.

   Another chorus of tearing pierces the air from behind him as the back of his shirt splits open, strong trapezius muscles bulging outwards and giving his upper back more definition. The neck of his shirt was also in the process of getting more strained as well, his own neck steadily thickening out into more of a trunk in its diameter. He could feel his throat tingle as the internal mechanisms reshaped themselves, his breathing growing deeper and heavier as time continued moving forward.

   "S-so much… strength…" Bill speaks aloud, the last word ringing deeper than the others had. His muscles had only continued to bulge out and develop further, the sleeves of his jacket splitting open more to reveal the complete pale shine that had overtaken his beefy arms. There was a heat in his very core as his pectorals pushed forward and his abs developed even more, everything indenting into his polo and forcing a rip down the middle. 

   Bill still felt confused however. All of this was well beyond the young man's comprehension. Something wants him and wants to transform him into some jacked up creature! With all this muscle it felt like he was going to be put in some kind of body guard position. And what was this diminutive lizard going to do to him once he was fully transformed? Did they have more weird magic up their sleeves to make this even weirder? Did… did they transform anyone else before h-

   He wasn't given the chance to finish that thought as a sudden piercing shot through his brain. "U-urgh-" he stumbled backwards, sides of his pants ripping open a bit due to the sudden movement. A strange cloud was entering Bill's mind now, thoughts and ideas phasing in and out of existence as they got obscured by the sudden haze. All he could muster out was a single question of, "What's happening now?!" before he shut his eyes and grunted in pain again. All the while, Kamek stands in front of him and silently observes his distress.

   Even more changes had still been happening within his body, his lower half inevitably not being unaffected by the magic. The leather of his belt continued to strain across his waist as his hips pushed out even further and wider. The button of his jeans evidently had trouble holding together his broadening form, and in general it seemed that his pants just couldn't hold in the swath of changes ensuing across and around his legs.

   Smooth darkness continued bleeding forward in the skin around his lower half, and the intense growth in muscle was a continuous effort throughout Bill's very form. So much of the upper portion of his jeans filled out, the seat of them getting closer to splitting as his rear was bloating up more and more. Gluteus muscles developed further while a certain level of sculpting was placed into his ass, all of which worked to round it up to thick and smooth perfection. The frontal region of the area wasn't spared either as the smoothing ensuing from his skin changes reached his groin. The button and zipper of his pants were easily forced to snap open as a thick roundness was formulated within that region, shining metal overtaking all of his parts and meshing and melding into a single rounded, completely nullified bulge.

   Meanwhile in his legs the musculature of them had been mirroring the changes occurring throughout his entire form. The very shape of his legs pushed into the denim of his pants as their structure was enhanced; hamstrings and quad muscles within his thighs bulking up as the region got wider with each passing second. Tears and splits within the material grew more and more prevalent as the sides opened up to reveal his constantly hardening skin, and this only got more visible with the area around his knees practically opening thanks to his earlier movement to show just how much his skin had changed.

   Meanwhile at the crus of his legs, his calves bulged out as the constant looping of strength was pushed into them. Bulky, powerful muscles constantly swelling up in size due to the steadily progressing nature of the spell that Bill was hit with. Legs getting so much stronger in order to support his hefty, heavy body. Pants continued to get torn asunder against the sheer magnitude of size that was impounding in his maturing muscularity. It was only a matter of time before his body would grow too large for all of his clothing. 

   This was a truth that had been getting easily proven by the man's footwear. As the splotches of pure black steel washed over his feet, and his body was all in the process of transforming, his feet too had been growing this entire time. Lengthening out longer, stretching out wider. Thickening in sheer size and girth. The sides of his feet pressed up against his shoes, and his heels dug into theirs. The material of his footwear had easily started ripping apart at this point, cracks and splits forming as the upper portion tried desperately to free itself from his soles. The bridge of his feet constantly pushed up against each loafer's tongue, furthering this building pressure more as his feet continued getting larger with his proportions.

   Perhaps the most drastic change came with his toes though. As everything had been in the process of growing, his toes had also been pushing forward more to the point that the cap of his shoes bulged and rounded thanks to his bulking toes. But the more they got pressed into the cap, the more they seemed to squish into his feet, melding into the hardening skin as a perfect smoothness overtook it all. The rounded bulges in his cap continuously shrunk away as his toes pushed and merged into the balls of his feet. It wouldn't take very long before they had completely disappeared, leaving his feet as two massive metallic slabs. The front of them would still burst through the cap of his shoes however, as the rest of them obliterated his loafers in one large burst thanks to the footwear's inability to contain them.

   It was by this point that his muscle growth had reached a substantial size. A certain apex had been reached with Bill's clothing, all of it seemingly coming to some kind of mutual conclusion that it would be unable to hold his absolutely hulking size.

   A single tink entered the air as Bill's belt snapped apart and blasted off his waist. Then, in a single instant, almost all of the rest of his clothing came apart in one massive fusillade. 

   Dark blue fabric blew off from his beefy arms, shards of the sleeves of his jacket being shirked off the mostly white-colored limbs with ease. The remainder of his jacket had easily come undone as well, bits and pieces sloughing off Bill's back as his expansive form rendered the article of clothing into nothing but scraps. His polo shirt experienced the exact same fate with pieces of it becoming nothing but refuse against his large, beefy chest and back muscles. The shirt seemed to have one of the more explosive tearings as well with all of its remains being sent into the air and drifting downwards to the floor. His pants did undergo a similar experience though, the size of his legs causing them to bust apart in one fell swoop with bits and pieces of denim also floating in the air alongside the remnants of his polo. Any aspects of his former clothing that remained were tattered rings of his jacket and shirt that still clung to his shoulders, and a portion of his pants that remained wrapped around his hip region.

   All of this gave way to fully revealing just how much of his body had changed. While his size was still growing, Bill had been absolutely filled with muscle to the point that his formerly skinny and twinkish form was subsumed by the build of a hulking bodybuilder. The constant changes in tone within his skin has caused his hands and arms to take on a predominately white shade by this point, meanwhile the rest of his body was still garnering the deep black coloration. Bits of his body shine in the office room's light as this development constantly grants him a more metallic form, increasing the visible strength of him by quite a lot. The surface area of his integumentary system would only end up getting more consumed by this, the wave of black and white metal continuing to overtake the remainder of his form.

   A simple clunk resonates in the air as Bill places one of his large hands onto the side of his head. Pressure was still wracking his skull, and it felt like his face was just pushing out. Strands of dusty brown had also started to fall off his head as his hair began to disconnect from his scalp. But all he could really focus on was this pang of pain in his forehead. "Nngh, this headache. Hard to… think…" His jaw clenches, and after a few blinks a pair of hypnotic spirals enters the man's eyes.

   There was a certain anger that began to practically boil within Bill's mind. So much so that the changes in his vocal cords allowed him to growl as he felt this feeling slowly intensify within him. Something about him knew how uncharacteristic this was, but there was just an overwhelming feeling of aggression burning it's way into his head. His usually calm personality was turning into nothing but steam as this rage welled up within him. He just wanted to fight! To just give something a good punch, get into a brawl and come out victorious!

   "A-aahh, n-no, I…" he tries to resist. To go against these thoughts. And yet much like the strength he's been given physically, all of this was overwhelming him mentally as well. Something about not fighting was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth. A voice in his mind practically yells at him that he should live to fight! To take out all his aggression and retool it into something of use!

   After all, isn't that his purpose? To just charge up aggression and expel it at full force. Doesn't that just sound so alluring…?

   "Nn…nnnngh-" his jaw remained clenched as these weird thoughts assaulted his brain. The shifts in his face only progressed as well, pressure building up and the frontal portion pushing out more and more. At first it had just looked like he had been granted a simple snout, nose pushing into it while his nostrils became simple holes at the snouts out. His jawline hardened, chiseling out more as the muzzle-like appearance of his face grew more prominent. But it wasn't long until the strange muzzle prompted another swatch of changes across his head. 

   His very skull structure was changed, reshaping and shifting into something that could only be described as inhuman. The upper section of his head pushed downwards as his muzzle overtook more and more of the front of his face. Within his mouth his teeth altered, every single one of them sharpening to a fine triangular point while becoming slightly flatter in shape. The hairs of his eyebrows trimmed and faded into nothing while the ridges grew more prominent, becoming thick and chunky while sticking out significantly above his eyes. All the splotches of black continued to make their purchase across his face; ears sinking into his skin until there was nothing left and his hair only shaving itself more. The once neatly swept back style had shrunk away with each follicle disconnecting and falling off his scalp. It wasn't long until all he'd be left with was a small tuft on his scalp, and even then that didn't last long as the transformation persisted so that it could soon leave him smooth and hairless.

   Once the hair had receded from the back of his head, his balded crown pushed out more as it gained more of a defined shape. The roundness of it flattened as the structure shifted and changed to something more cylindrical. After some amount of time the cylinder found itself differentiated slightly from the rest of his head, the crown's shape giving way to what could only be described as how the primer of a bullet would look. 

   The bullet motifs didn't really stop there either. As his face shifted, the shape it took seemed more and more akin to that of a bullet's body. The rounded muzzle of his face was like that of the bullet's projectile, meanwhile the portion between that and his head's crown was the remainder of the cartridge. The best way to describe his new head shape was like that of a ten caliber bullet, albeit with a bit more of a rounded tip and much larger in size than a normal bullet.

   A growl continued to exit his throat, his mind continuing to be ravaged through all these changes. That burning aggression from earlier was like a flame rushing through his brain. All that was once Bill just fell to dust or boiled into steam. Such a weak and useless job dealing with office work, there's nothing fun to destroy in an office! What's he supposed to do with numbers anyway? Useless little things, all he needs is his fingers to count off the number of rounds he could fire off!

   "U-uuuurgh…" he continues to hold the sides of his bullet-shaped head in between his hands. Thoughts of violence and destruction were filling his head, each one causing the ends of his mouth to curl upwards in a smile. A small chuckle escaped his throat, only to intensify as all these desires continued to light his mind ablaze. "Ggggeheh… heheheh…!!"

   A level of pure unhingedness was overtaking him. All those thoughts of late nights and work getting thrown to the ashes. Memories of number crunching, accounting, math; such things were useless to a man such as him! Years of learning were getting sundered, his brain constantly dulling with time. He obviously wasn't the brain of any operation, just one of many brawns. His muscles ached at such a thought. Brawn, power, strength, that's what truly mattered!

   Of course with all of that he'd still need at least a speck of knowledge, in this case that being working with artillery. It wasn't anything complicated though, all he knew how to do was adjust a barrel and fire whatever weapon he's been charged with utilizing. Even then he'd much prefer a physical fight. But either way he'd always be the best at doing either job! 

   Any aspect of his old personality was quickly overtaken by a new one. The aggression was one thing, but his soft and kind personality was all replaced with pure cockiness and arrogance. A drastic contrast to his own self, but then again he'd find such a personality weak anyway. There's no room in his brain to be soft, only strong and powerful to go toe-to-toe with someone! If anything he felt like he'd always be moments away from his gunpowder setting off and rocketing him into a tussle!

   But of course, all of this strength isn't for himself. The only thing that would truly remain of the original Bill was the overachiever aspect of his personality, but here that gets shifted and changed into loyalty. He wants to devote his strength to his lord. The king that forged him, the king that commands him to fight, the one that gives him a sense of purpose. The name Bowser is what comes to mind, and thinking about him gives the newly changed man an intense feeling of allegiance. His loyalty is to Bowser, always and forever, and nothing can be done to strip that. He wants to do everything in his power to make his king, his lord proud.

   "AHAHAHA!!!" The transformed creature let out a loud, deep laugh that had a gravelly tone to it. Any fear and confusion he was feeling was gone, replaced with a certain overpowering drive to fight for his king. Anything that was once Bill has been gone. All of him had been overtaken, forgotten, substituted for a single new being.

   A Bullet Bill, that was what he was. A singular piece of ammo in the barrel that was Bowser's offensive army. Being one of many didn't matter to him though, his only purpose was to use his strength to serve and protect his king. Such a thought makes him smirk, the newly forged Bullet Bill giving one of his beefy muscular arms a good strong flex and watches whatever weird cloth that surrounded its shoulder rip off and fall to the ground. 

   After spending a good few seconds admiring his muscles, he lowers his arm and smiles. "Ready to serve, my…" he trails off as he notices where he was. "...king? Eh? Where the heck am I?"

   He then looked down at his body. Why was he wearing torn up shorts? He has no use for those! He grabs onto the tattered denim pants and tears them off with ease, taking note of the other strip of cloth on his left arm and instantly going to pull it off as well. It left his perfectly sculpted, chiseled, metallic form visible. Smooth, yet rigid with muscle. He had the right components to punch through a wall, or survive sudden impact towards the top of his head. Looking at his muscles just made him want to admire his strength again…

   "...ehem," a voice clears its throat from in front of him. The Bullet Bill's thoughts are broken from that, looking around at his height for a few seconds too long before realizing he could just look down again to find the source. Said source was proven to be a familiar-looking, blue-robed, and bespectacled magikoopa. One that he instantly had clocked as his superior.

   "General Kamek! I didn't see you there, considering you're so short and all! Heheh…" In comparison to the Bullet Bill, Kamek was indeed extremely short. "So General, mind telling me where we are?"

   Kamek just deadpanned, his focus hanging on the jab at his height. "...I'm not in the mood for this," the magikoopa holds up his wand, a reddish-purple glow activating in the gem, then twirls it before turning around to fire a beam into the hallway he fell into. The beam stopped in midair, formed a small sphere of light, then instantly grew into a large portal that was slightly taller than the Bullet. Within the portal one could see that it led to the gray brick halls of Bowser's Castle.

   The Bullet Bill just eyes at the portal, seemingly awaiting orders. At least they have that going for them, Kamek thought to himself. "And don't worry about where this is. As your commander I request you head into that portal and find your way to the armory, then await for instructions from Lord Bowser."

   A toothy grin formed on the Bullet Bill's face, the creature nodding a single time in confirming. "Yes, sir!" Then, without even thinking twice, he jogs his way towards the portal as a mental map of Bowser's Castle forms in his mind. One of the only things he would ever deem remembering, it would seem. His heavy steps stomp past Kamek and straight into the portal, the newly forged Bullet Bill now properly enlisting in Bowser's steadily growing army.

   This also left Kamek alone in the office space. Holding up his wand again he waves it, the portal shutting itself in response. It leaves a small purple and red light orb, but it snuffs itself out a few seconds after the portal closes.

   The magikoopa then sighs, mentally checking off another box on the ever vast list of recruits he needs to make. He admittedly didn't anticipate just about how much work was going into transforming random folks into suitable minions for Bowser. Repeated magic like this was always rather exhausting to perform for a little guy like him. And he's definitely going to have to push himself to his limits if he's going to fulfill this request per the king's desires, especially within the next couple days!

   "Ah, so much work…" he begins walking forward, his small feet practically silent on the ground of the office space. The only sound that was heard was the wood of his wand clunking to the ground every so often as he uses it as a cane. All Kamek thinks about is how he plans to attain more victims to transform into loyal soldiers. Perhaps if he were lucky he might someone so other people in this building and-

   Ding!

   The noise echoed through the empty office area, followed by the sound of doors sliding open. A couple footsteps are heard followed by a male-sounding voice speaking. "Did somebody leave the lights on here…?"

   Kamek remained unseen for the time being, but the smile forming on that face proved that wouldn't be the case for very long. Ideas and thoughts flowed through his mind as he began to make his way to the source of the sound. Another person to transform! Yet another soldier for Bowser's Army! Although perhaps he should go with a common Koopa Troopa this time around.

   Only a few minutes later a bright flash of red light illuminates that very floor of the office building before dimming back to its previous dimly lit appearance. This would be one of many for this night as the plans to propagate Bowser's Army continue onward. Soon it will be brought to full strength…

   …or perhaps it will be at an even fuller strength than it ever was before.

[thdrama2]

what the other anon said about art payments is so true. as much as i love getting artwork from people of my ocs so many people just go ghost even with months of pestering them 💀 rn im dealing with someone who completed one half of an art payment, but it’s been like 4 months and they STILL haven’t completed the second part even though all they have to draw is a headshot. so now the adopt i was gonna trade them is just stuck in limbo because it’s not like i can cancel the trade

To get out of such limbo you would need to pay them something else in exchange for the work already completed and then cancel the remaining trade.

They could not earn the character without full payment but one completed artwork for another should suffice to end the waiting.

[moodindigov]

hey guys nerd moment about the title of the fic (this is long im sorry)

mood indigo was actually a jazz song released in the 1930’s by duke ellington, barney bigard with lyrics by irving mills, except bigard said that its real credit is derived from his clarinet teacher, Lorenzo Tio’s, melodies. so that clarinet part like biagrd’s solo? yea that was Lorenzo tio’s melodies that weren’t full developed and when bigard did finish them and show them so ellington, he liked it and it was included. and like its almost impossible to tell where ellington’s collaborators part begin bcs apparently he’s js that good at blending that stuff idk (dont take that last part as a fact thats purely from what i remember.) anyways, mood indigo is about a little boy and little girl who are eight. girl loves boy and while they never acknowledge the feelings, the girl waits at her window bcs the boy visits her. and the song basically describes the feeling the girl had when the boy didnt visit her. so you may be asking, duct why would u choose something like that as a title for a book about the slump in london 1930s and about criminal organizations? well, dear anon, here u r:

1. literal (?) meaning; im gonna be so honest with you i purely got this idea from brendan and neksa / jess and morgan. i couldnt stop thinking about that wonderful art i found of brendan and neksa it was of neksa as a raven or crow i dont rmb but point is that its gorgeous and stunning i love it. the idea that brendan denies his feelings of love for her purely because he half doesn’t want to acknowledge that he’s become so attached to a person in such an intimate way and half because he just cant risk his father (or anyone) finding out that he’s gone and practically betrayed his dad’s whole like symbolism in tje trading world (remember they don’t like the library. yk how contradicting it would be to have one of the biggest illegal book trader’s son dating someone from the library, especially someone who works in like the same facility as the archivist? yea its damnable like no ones gonna trust ca. brightwells or his business anymore.) anyways the literal meaning: girl is sad bcs boy didn’t visit/come back to her. brendan literally left neksa (the woman he was oh so deeply in love with) because he didn’t want to hurt her and played it off as the fact that he didn’t love her. and when jess comes back as brendan (lmaoo) i feel like you can imagine the smallest sliver of hope she had that they can be something again but its practically disappeared next to the pure anger and grief in her heart. and when neksa dies, brendan can’t visit her anymore. its literally not possible. (until he died then maybe they could be happy tgt). this is so many words words words guys i promise im not actually this much of a nerd on a daily basis this is just interesting to me. anyways, once again, girl is sad bcs boy didn’t visit her one day. umm we can go back and look into jess’ past: boy is eternally sad bcs his brother died. aka: boy is sad bcs his brother can’t visit him. like ever. sad sad sad moments💔💔

2. this is like an actual stretch but um i consider it okay so basically girl being sad is jess boy who didnt visit (or wont anymore) is a semblance of love or sanctuary. throughout the series its obvious that jess just doesn’t trust his family. im pretty sure he even says it like he does not trust them. but hey, maybe he did once. maybe he did when he was a little boy who had an older brother who he could rely on—one that taught him how to walk and that taught him the basics. someone who he could go to for advice and who could help him keep his head above water. now we don’t have a characterization, but i’m going off of @thegreatlibraryfangirl’s advice and kinda semi-making my own..so um sorry if u dont like that guys..but anyways i feel like the moment jess starts to really rely and trust the other’s is the moment that melancholy feeling, that mood indigo, goes away. it doesnt go away completely, theres always gonna be a solid chunk never satisfied but thats okay because he has people he can trust with his life that will help him get through it. not only this but the bond that jess and dario (will) share in this au represents that. they’re both young—maybe 13 max but they both lack one thing that only they can give esch other; sanctuary.

[alpaca-clouds]

Fluffcember Day 20: Only With You

Yesterday's Fluffcember - the prompt was Traditional Cooking.

Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix)

Shipping: Striga/Morana

Genre: Domnestic Fluff

Length: 1095 words

[A03 Link]

Working for humans was demeaning. Humans were stupid, feeble, weak. They cared about so many nothings in their short, short lives. And they would die. So easily. Even Morana, who did not consider herself a fighter, could snuff out their lives without even breaking a sweat. And yet they were here, in Szombathely, working for fucking humans.

She had been right – of course. The humans had not been particularly choosy, when it came to who was filling up their ranks. The political situation in Europe was volatile – had been volatile even before Dracula rained hell onto Earth for half a year. Many had died. Soldiers, too. So offering a squadron of undead soldiers had made them quick friends, even if those undead soldiers needed to feed on human blood at least once a month. They were defending the city, for now, waiting it out until the end of winter. And she, Morana, was working for fucking humans, helping them bring their stupid human affairs in order, plan out their trade routes and all the things humans were still so bad with.

It was annoying. Humans were annoying. The fact that during this night alone three men had tried to explain the things she had spent centuries perfecting to her, did not make it any better. Oh, she had been so close to ripping that one guy's throat out – and that would've been her letting him of easy. Because aside from trade, administration and certain tactics, she had also perfected the art of torturing humans. How much she would've loved to making the man scream for hours.

She could not quite stifle a sigh when she returned to the small house the local lord had given over to them. It was a small house with but one room. Nothing compared to the comforts she had grown so accustomed to during those last 400 years. But it was something. A little thing.

Much to her surprise she found the tangy smell of sour cream, as well as the scent of fried pork belly hanging in their one room, when she entered. She had not eaten normal food ever since they had left Styria. It was just not a thing they could afford right now.

Yet, there Striga was, standing in front of that tiny stove they had, a pan over the open flame.

“You are back,” she said softly, without turning around.

“I am,” Morana replied. All the anger from her night vanished from one moment to the next, as she was seeing her wife at the stove. Striga was hunched over, as the stove – or anything in this house really – had not been made for someone her size. Yet, she was cooking.

Morana went over to her. All she wanted to do was hug her, hold her for a moment, so she did. Putting her arms around the muscular body and hiding her face between those wide shoulders.

“You had an annoying night?” Striga concluded.

Morana could not hold back a groan. “You have no idea. Those men… they are infuriating!” It was a thing she had always agreed with Carmilla on. Humans were bad. Human men were worse. Because they acted as if the entire world belonged to them, as if the world should feel blessed for them having set a foot on it. They were so completely unable to understand how unimportant their own lives were. And the more power such a man had amassed – and vampire men did not really differ from the human ones – the worse they became.

“I know,” Striga muttered. “I know, my beloved.”

“I want to kill them,” Morana murmured. “I want to…”

“I know,” Striga said again.

A part of Morana’s mind had long gone over the possibilities. They had about 200 vampire soldiers with them. Could they not just overpower the humans and take the city? It had a castle. Not a nice castle like the one in Styria, but a castle never the less. How many of their people would they lose in the process? Would they be able to hold the city?

The latter point was the big struggle, wasn’t it? They were in Hungary right now and Hungary still had a standing army. Sooner or later they would take the city back. And their soldiers would die. And without the soldiers she and Striga would die as well. Then it would be all for nothing.

“Once the winter is over, we can move on,” Striga promised. “Once the winter is over…”

But they both knew, it wasn’t quite true. Even with the winter over there was the fact that they could just not return to a comfortable life like they had before. They would be on the road, always just a smidge away from dying in the sun.

Morana relinquished the thought. She would have to deal with it. The humans were stupid, but wasn’t she more so for holding a grudge? Those humans were barely more than animals. She would not hold a grudge against a stupid dog biting her, right?

“How did you get the food?” They were, after all, not paid money, just blood.

“I gambled for it,” Striga replied.

“But what did you stake?”

“Ah, nothing much.” Striga just shrugged, before taking the pan of the stove. “Sit.”

Morana could not quite help a smile, before she sat down by the table. A simple wooden construction that lacked any sophistication. “What did you make?”

“Machanka,” Striga replied.

It was a dish Morana remembered. A Slavic dish, made with onions, sour cream and cheese, as far as she remembered. Served with bread and fried pork belly.

“It was something I made for my siblings back when…” Striga stopped herself, shaking her head, though Morana understood.

Back when she was human. Though it had been a long time since then, too, hadn’t it? 400 years. Though other than Morana, Striga still remembered her human life – had even held it dear. For Morana… it was just too long ago. She remembered the place, but nothing more. What had her family been like? She had not idea. She just remembered being an undead goddess over a city for many, many years – before the winds of time had crumbled the city to dust.

Maybe Striga guessed her thoughts, even though she said nothing. She just bowed down and kissed her onto the forehead. “It’s good,” she promised, before filling the soup into two simple wooden bowls. “Not fancy, but good.”

“I know it’s good, my love,” Morana replied. “It has been you, who cooked it.”

[ravio-rants]

2 for any, uhh I cannot remember what it is but..7 for any, cause it’s my lucky number :smiles:

Why does your oc look the way they do? What are your reasons for their appearance?

gonna answer this for most of them bc its fun lol

Raide is actually way different than they originally were designed. she used to be a sona, or, my sona (ravio)'s opposite twin thing. i didnt like that idea anymore so i revamped him completely, and ended up mashing together "skull pattern bc its cool" "keep her hair similar" and "colors i like" and ending up with what we have now. oh, her hair actually originally was designed after a spatoon oc i had, and then i Hated drawing the hair so much that i never drew him, so, with my siblings advice, i made them wear a crown that looks similar to his old hair, and her new hair still has similar vibes but is much easier to draw.

Calen actually hasnt changed too much, to be honest. he used to be just an offbrand version of a character i liked from a fandom im no longer in, and because i had already made him kinda my own, i kept him around and changed him into a twili to match Raide. his colors are blue and gold because thats what his colors originally were, and his skin is tinted green because i didnt want All my twili to just be black and white. thats boring.

Vang was the first of the twins to be made, and was also my first twili oc, so she kinda became the outline for them. Her and her brother, Kalt, are supposed to look like siblings, but also look closer to Midna from canon, because they are part of the royal lineage, and i wanted them to match more with the canon looks we are given for twili.

Kalt is vang but to the left, design wise, honestly. they probably looked Very similar, if not identical before she transitioned, but neither of them minds. he has the same hair as The Hero (link from twilight princess) because he looks up to him and wants to be cool. (aka he started as just a twili Link design but i made him my own.)

(all of the twili are actually undergoing mild design changes currently. undecided if some of the new design choices will be part of an au or not, so i wont be explaining them here, since they arent complete yet anyways.)

Hobic the wizard design choices? uh. slutty gay wizard with his tits out. that was the whole design idea. also green. i dont think too deeply about these things, he's entirely a joke character.

The M Crew, Moss, Marble, and Media are actually mostly three colors. green, purple, and orange. Moss is Purple with green clothes, Marble is Green with orange clothes, and Media is Orange with purple clothes. the intent is to make them look fine on their own, but also like a fun group when put together. Media is supposed to look simplistic but kinda punk. (the end result is them looking like a bouncer at a concert but thats okay lol.) Moss is supposed to have a similar outfit to what i usually wear. letterman jacket, combat boots, ripped jeans. Marble.. marble was a struggle and a half and i dont like her outfit at all. she looks like she got a witch costume from spirit halloween and called it good, so i have to fix that.

Does your oc have any notable skills or good personality traits? Why did you give them those traits? Why do they exist in-universe?

hm. Raide is good at most forms of art. i gave them that skill because im a jack of all trades, and my oc's are almost always an extension of myself. Raide is a good artist in universe because she loves art a lot, and doesnt want to be a royal guard anyway, so why not try Every type of art while he finds out what they want to do? right?

Calen is good at mixing potions, and is pretty charismatic. honestly hes had these since being created so i dont know why he has them. as for in universe explaination: potions are his job, so hes been trained on how to make them(and he Has to know how to make potions.. because they keep him alive..) . charisma is also job related. hes a merchant of many wares (potions are just the ones he makes himself.), so he's gotten pretty good at being charming but honest. it helps people buy his shit.

this got long lmao- and those two are the only ones i could think of answers for quickly(they may or may not be my fav oc's of mine...) so if you wanna ask about other beans feel free!!

[gorematchala]

I have completed Star Ocean!!!!

So I only have one negative thing to say about First Departure R and its minor. To get it out of the way, this game has the same disease many RPGs have which is "bad final area and last boss" syndrome. I made the strongest sword I could possibly get for Roddick and half the enemies at the end, including the final boss, are healed if you hit them with it, I assume because they absorb dark element. I will be maining the Soul Eater next time

But there is currently a next time because I really liked the game! Its old and arcane and items are super important even though you'll never need even a fraction of whats available, and all of that PSP jank is so good, I love it. As a remake/remaster/port thing I really love the way the devs stayed true to the SNES game and the PSP game at the same time somehow. Its like the most respectful remaster ever

Besides just liking the game I've started a second playthrough because there are a lot of characters and I want to play with some of the ones I couldn't get before. Unfortunately it would take 3 playthroughs to use all of them and idk if I would go that far so soon after my first clear but the other reason I'm playing again is I understand the skill system now and I wasted so many points and so much EXP before that i basically just wanna see how broken overpowered I can get lol. I feel like theres an upper limit for sure cuz damage caps at 9999, but I wanna max out all skills for everyone and smith some fucked up armor and buy all the expensive items and stuff. Its got all the components of the kind of RPG I'm always looking for, even though just like with FF8 I wish it was just normal turn based combat. The spritework is really good though and it helps the fights be fun

I started the demo for second story and so far I really like the characters and the art and stuff but it kinda encapsulates a problem I have with sequels and modernizing things. The stagger system and all the battle stuff is fuckin awesome, I love it and its what drew me to the game in the first place, but the 3D environments look kinda crusty and the menus are all just blue and samey looking. The SO:FD menus let you change the background color and all the different tabs have colored icons next to them. And its nice cuz theres a lot of menus in that game. With Second Story its like you trade the PSP swag for convenience and sick battle systems. But I reallyyy like the PSP swag is the problem

[kujakumai]

Wherefore Art Thou 5,010 words; Complete [AO3 Link]

Atem has come out the ceremonial duel not with death but with a life of his own, and with that comes questions, problems, paperwork. He'll need a checklist of things, a birthday, an address, a hometown, a last name. A weighty decision, a name. They already went through so much trouble getting the first one.

About being in the right-wrong body at the wrong-right time and the chances we never expected to get; about how I was always me and you are no one else but you, and we'll never be like that again, but there are still things we can share with each other.

Or: A story in which Atem writes some things down, gets a new shirt, and fails to buy eggs.

Sunlight. That was the first thing you noticed about the house, the way the Ishtar siblings had angled everything towards it, falling in through wide-open windows and flooding the kitchen, bouncing off golden antiques brought up from the tombs and settling over the plants Rishid left on counters and shelves. In a place with too much sunlight, where it radiated over the sand without end, this place welcomed it, as if there could never be enough.

The second thing that came to mind was that there was something off about it, like you couldn't tell when it was supposed to be. It was half in old Egypt and half in 1998, shiny modern convenience sitting next to remnants of the old ways. Artifacts and incense, videogame systems and new athletic shoes, crashing up against each other without rhyme or reason like a patchwork quilt, like an odds-and-ends drawer, like a warzone. Atem found it unpleasantly mismatched and a little ugly, but oddly comforting in a way he could not describe.

It wasn't big enough for an extended visit, but while they were all in Egypt the Ishtars insisted that they stay for dinner at least once—Rishid, they were informed, was an excellent cook. So Atem, Yugi, Jonouchi, Anzu, Honda, Otogi, and Bakura were all piled into the cozy too-small living room, strewn about couches and on pulled-in kitchen chairs, and even then a lack of space left Bakura cheerfully sitting cross-legged on the floor. Ten people, too many, laughing about nothing and everything, about Anzu's study abroad plans, Ishizu's work, Shizuka's health, and a brief tangent where Honda and Marik traded bike specifications in arcane mechanical terms that left everyone else out of the loop.

"Ateeeeeeem, you're so quiet." Jonouchi flopped onto an overstuffed chair that Honda was already sitting in, elbowing him in the face and squishing in over his objections. "This is your party!"

"Ah, sorry." He had been quiet, listening to the conversation without hearing it, letting everything wash over him.

"Leave him alone, he's busy." Anzu scolded. "Atem has to get those papers done for Marik, or we can't leave."

"Atem has time! He should relax."

They were all saying his name a lot, more than was natural. He suspected they'd all gotten together when he wasn't in the room and agreed to practice it so they could stop accidentally calling him "Yugi." So they tacked it on to the end of every sentence, Atem, Atem, Atem, a very old name in new voices that had never spoken it before, or maybe a brand-new name in old and safe and familiar ones, or both at once or neither depending on your point of view. They all kept saying it a little wrong, reflexively adding the shadow of a "u" at the end, not used to the foreignness of it. Atem knew he should tell them that wasn't quite right but he loved it, and every time he heard the way they said it it tugged at something in his chest and made him want to smile.

Atem was sitting on the couch next to Yugi. Because he could do that now, sit next to him, because he had a body. Because a day ago he and Yugi dueled, and instead of taking him away forever like everyone expected the doors opened up and spat him back out, flesh and blood all his own just like the day he died, and before he even knew what was going on he'd been tackle-hugged by four or five people and everyone was sobbing. So he'd walked back out into the world and the sunlight, a little dazed and on his own two feet. He'd left his crown and cape at the hotel, kept his earrings and his cartouche, and put on a t-shirt someone had hastily grabbed from a tourist tchotchke shop. It was bubblegum pink and had a cartoon sphinx on it, and didn't fit quite right because they bought it in Yugi's size.

Yugi leaned over his shoulder in a way that very real and warm and solid and definitely not incorporeal, which Atem somehow never expected no matter how many times it happened. "What's it say?"

Atem offered him the two or three pages he was holding. "You can read it if you want, partner." Was it weird to still call him partner? Partners in what? They weren't in the same body anymore, so they couldn't duel together, exactly. Should he call him something else? If he stopped saying partner, would Yugi notice? Would he be hurt? What was the better word, then?

"This is a lot of info." Yugi's eyes traced down the page. Not so much a form as a handwritten list. Name, date of birth, place of birth, address, parent's names, blood type. "Marik really needs all this?"

"Yes. The more the better." Marik was sitting on the floor, eating nuts out of a bowl on the coffee table and trading cards with Bakura. "You can make up the stuff you don't know, just try to keep it believable." He looked up and gave them a mischievous smile. "Or don't. Go wild, if you want. I'm just putting it on paper, if you get stopped at the airport because your expertly forged new passport says you're three thousand years old, it'll be on you."

"I think," Otogi noted, from the opposite end of the couch, "if you're inventing a whole new identity from scratch, you're obligated to include at least one thing that's a little crazy. For fun."

"Exactly."

"Please don't listen to anything Marik says." Ishizu Ishtar was dressed more casually than any of them had ever seen her, but she carried herself with a practiced grace that always somehow emanated authority. She walked in with a silver tray covered in mugs of something, and held it out to Marik with a look that wordlessly communicated the ancient sibling art of I did this part, now you do the next.

Marik made a face, but stood up and started passing out drinks, and as he walked by Atem caught his own distorted reflection in the polished surface, which startled him because he looked exactly like he was supposed to look and not like Yugi Muto. Same hair, certainly, but not much else. An inch and a half shorter, because Yugi had grown but he hadn't, broader shoulders, not as skinny, warm brown skin. It shouldn't be that weird, just to see himself in the mirror. He'd has his memories for a month, even if the body was new. He knew what he looked like.

Tiny little discrepancies in his new existence, like someone secretly moving all the furniture in your house two inches to the left. A thousand irritants too subtle to notice, too minute to bother complaining about. Food that tasted a little wrong because he was used to someone else's tastebuds, the abrupt change in eyeline that made all his friends slightly the wrong height, the sound of his own voice in his ears, now lightly accented, because his head still knew Yugi's perfect Japanese but his new (old?) mouth wasn't practiced with the sounds. He'd picked up a phone this morning and stood there for thirty seconds like an idiot, waiting for muscle memory to kick in, until he realized that it wouldn't and had to search and press each button in a way he knew was slow and wrong. The weight of the puzzle was conspicuous in its absence. He was so used to it hanging from his neck and resting against his chest that the lack of it was odd, an empty triangular space where something should be, the way you suddenly notice background music when someone turns it off.

Ishizu sat down with perfect posture, somehow made a displaced wooden kitchen chair look elegant. "If you do have problems at the airport," she said, "call me first. I know people at the embassy."

Rishid leaned casually out of the kitchen doorway. "You won't have problems." he said, a spatula in one hand, his Japanese polite and careful. "Marik's work is good. We have never had issues." He smiled. "Easier than god cards."

"My papers are real," Ishizu said, with the tiniest smirk, "but you don't have time for that, pharaoh."

Jonouchi half-stood up and reached over and snatched the papers out of Yugi's hand. "So how far didja get?"

"Hey!" Yugi objected.

"Dude," Honda squinted at it from next to Jonouchi, "did you write anything yet?"

"I was thinking." Atem said, not at all defensively.

Jonouchi reached over to a side table and grabbed a pen, and clicked it. "C'mon, let's get this done with." He skimmed the page and seemed to pick at random. "When's your birthday?"

"19th of—" he started, automatically, before realizing midsentence that it was not the sort of date that anyone could use. "Shemu Epiphi." he finished, out of momentum.

Jonouchi did not write down "Shemu Epiphi," or anything like it, and just looked at him blankly, pen at the ready, awaiting clarification. Atem did not have any.

"Low water," added awkwardly, was the best that he could do.

Ishizu threw him a life raft. "That would be in the summer. Somewhere in July, I would think."

"It is not." Marik objected. "That has to be May or June. Early June."

"I'm sorry, Marik, do you have a degree in Egyptology?"

"No, but I—RISHID! Epiphi is early summer, right?"

"I cannot hear you, I'm cooking!"

Ishizu curtly gestured at Jonouchi to continue. "We will do the math later."

"Alright, easier one." Jonouchi resumed. "Place of birth?"

"Nowe." he said. The name rolled easily off his tongue. Capital city, on the river's east bank.

Jonouchi clearly did not recognize the name, and didn't write this one down either. He shot a glance at Ishizu.

"That's here." she corrected, or perhaps merely offered. "Luxor." She gave Atem what he was sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile. "Of course, in the interim it was Thebes, and in the Old Kingdom before your time they called it Waset, and there are several other..."

Jonouchi nodded and scribbled something on the page, and Atem felt weakly like he should object, because he wasn't born in Luxor, and this city was new and strange to him, and it wasn't the right answer. The right answer didn't exist, though, not anymore. There were only the ruins of what had once been right answers, crumbled to dust and built over by strangers, studied by experts and marveled at by tourists.

It wasn't wrong, it just wasn't right either. How he and Yugi kept bumping into each other because they didn't expect to both be corporeal, how the Ishtars' decor was confusingly out of time yet entirely correct, how he was alive and with his friends a day after everyone expected him to die and how the whole place smelled like food and sounded like laughter and it was supposed to be for him but for some reason he wasn't happy, how he mostly felt strange and tense and like he was doing everything wrong. A pervasive sense of not-rightness, all over his skin.

"Alright! Making progress! Next up is the easiest one of 'em all, name. First is Atem, aaaaand..." He paused. "What's your last name?"

Atem thought about this. Technically as pharaoh he had six names, none of which would sound normal on a birth certificate. "That's not really how it worked."

"You gotta have a last name, Atem."

"I don't know what to tell you. That's not how we did it." He smiled. That's what you're supposed to do, when you're alive and with your friends and at a party and everyone is staring at you waiting for an answer, is smile. Smiling always helped, when you didn't know what to say.

Yugi was thinking, and he leaned forward and tapped the back of his foot on the bottom of the couch. "I guess you can just pick something?"

"If you want to be boring, you can just choose something common." suggested Marik. "Omar, Sayed, Hassan. There's a ton of Hassans."

"He wants to be a Japanese citizen though, right?" Bakura piped up. "If he doesn't want to stand out, he could be a Satou, or a Tanaka."

Discord erupted. Suddenly everyone had a suggestion.

"I think he's going to stand out regardless..." "Just use your dad's name, maybe?" "He doesn't look like a Sayed." "Atem...puzzle? No, that's stupid." "Something related to pharaohs? Lots of names that mean king." "Takahashi sounds nice." "How about—" "What if—"

In the midst of the fracas, new names dueling on all sides, Yugi had his own polite suggestion, offered from right next to his ear. "You could always be Muto." he said, with a tiny shrug, like it was nothing. "Grandpa already thinks you're his grandson anyway." he added, with a smile.

The discussion continued but Atem froze and felt his mouth dry up, the world still moving while he stood still, and all of it turned to noise.

Names were still being thrown across the room but somewhere between "Kamiya" and "Qadir," Rishid poked his head out of the kitchen again. "I hate to interrupt, but I'm short an egg. Could someone run to the corner and—"

Atem stood up a little too quickly. "I will go." he announced, in the solemn tone of someone volunteering for a dangerous quest to save the realm from evil and not going down the street for a minor kitchen staple.

"You...sure, Atem?" Marik never added the phantom u. He pronounced it like he'd been doing it all his life. "We can make someone else go."

"Or you could go, Marik." Ishizu remarked.

"Nah, I'm good."

Atem was already extricating himself from the living room. "No! It's fine. I need the fresh air. And it's nice to see more of...Luxor." Keep smiling. No problems.

Atem escaped before anyone could say another word, out into the evening air. The desert didn't hold heat, but it was the end of summer, so it was only pleasantly cool. He was mostly looking for a place to breathe. After a block or so of wandering while looking very much like he knew what he was doing, because nothing in this city was where it was supposed to be anymore, he settled for a quiet bench under a date palm where there weren't many passersby.

And he managed to breathe.

He had lungs now, to breathe in. His own lungs, without borrowing. He tried to calm his antsy heartbeat and it didn't work very well.

Breathe. You're alive now. It is a good thing, to be alive. You are alive and everyone is so happy to see you.

He just hadn't been expecting it, was the problem.

"You can tell us if it's too much, you know." Atem nearly jumped out of his skin when Yugi spoke, appeared from nowhere, nearly silhouetted against the sunset. "It's okay. You've only been back for a day."

"No!" Smile. "No. I'm fine." He almost said "partner," and then didn't. Of course Yugi noticed. Of course Yugi went after him. Yugi, always after him. Yugi, always behind him, always standing just out of view.

"I wish you wouldn't lie to my face." There wasn't any malice in it. Yugi said it plainly, merely politely stating a fact in that incisive way he did. When did that happen, that Yugi stood up so straight and spoke so plainly? He tilted his head and gave him a small, sweet mile, the one that seemed to say You are not as good at hiding your feelings as you think you are. You get away with it because I let you.

Atem tried not to let a muscle in his face move, or show the way the words pierced right through him. Sometimes talking to Yugi felt like getting caught.

"Can I sit down?"

"Of course." Atem moved over.

Yugi sat down and bumped against him, in a way that continued to be very warm and solid and he should be getting used to that why isn't he used to it and why does it surprise him every single time stay cool stay cool stay cool.

Evening was turning into dusk and porchlights and windows were flicking on, yellow spots across the neighborhood. He and Yugi sat in silence.

On instinct, he mentally reached out Yugi in the way he always did, linked hearts and minds, and instead smashed facefirst into a brick wall in his own head. There wasn't any way out of himself. No other heart, no second voice or presence to be detected. Just his own thoughts, bouncing back at him over and over again when he least wanted them. He was so used to their peculiar sort of cohabitation, Yugi's thoughts drifting at the edges of his own, Yugi's memories crystal clear, Yugi's joy and Yugi's grief and Yugi's rage, tangled together until he lost track of what belonged to who. That was all gone now, had stopped abruptly at the start of the ceremonial duel. Whatever was going on in Yugi's head now was fraught and unknown to him. He put a hand up to his chest, instinctively, but there was no hefty chain to grab, so instead it wrapped around the much smaller cartouche, pressing the hieroglyphs into his palm.

"Sorry." Yugi looked up at him, sheepish. "I keep thinking things at you. None of that works anymore, but for some reason I keep expecting you to answer. It's weird, right?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

Yugi laughed, short and bright. "We have to get better at talking to each other."

"We do." He nodded, watching the sunset. "But some things are harder to say out loud."

Yugi considered this quietly. "They are," he said, "but we have to try."

More silence, easier this time. It was starting to get cold. Wind ran through the grass.

There are a lot of things, in fact, that are very difficult to say out loud. Many of them can arise from a situation wherein roughly 24 hours ago you were going to die, or more accurately that you asked your friends to kill you, and they did, because that is what they thought you wanted, because that is what you insisted you wanted. That you were a weight around Yugi's neck who did not belong in this world and whose time had long passed but now the chain was broken and you suddenly had a whole future in front of you that no one had told you was an option before and you have no idea where it goes or what happens next.

Atem was usually very good at knowing how to say things. He knew how princes were supposed to speak, and then learned how kings are supposed to speak, and then how friendly ghosts and great duelists were supposed to speak. None of those scripts fit anymore, and he didn’t have one to fall back on. He had assumed he would be dead by now and therefore had not written one. Another empty space where something should be. Now he had, what, another 70 years? That sounded like a very long time. He didn’t know of a script that went on that long and no one seemed set to provide one.

There were no clouds in this part of the desert, almost never, since there was never any rain, so the sky was clear and endless. More empty spaces, this one too big and dark to look at without getting vertigo, too much to look at at once. It seemed like it could swallow someone whole.

"There are endless options." He blinked at the sky, not looking at Yugi. "And it's so important. You only get one. How am I supposed to know what to do with it?"

Yugi smiled. "It's just a name. You can call yourself anything you want. It's up to you." He added, "You get two, technically."

"The first one is already done."

"Then that should narrow it down, right?"

"Anything that I want." he repeated, but he said the words reluctantly, like describing a pain he didn't want to trouble everyone by complaining about. He closed his eyes, as if tired. "I was never expecting to have to make the choice."

"I guess it is a lot." he said, looking down. "Sorry if I upset you earlier. You don't have to be a Muto if you don't want to." He was pretending not to be a little sad. "It was just a suggestion. I know you have your own name, and family."

Atem scrambled to ensure that Yugi didn't feel like he'd done something wrong. "It's not that." He struggled, again, in the search for the right words, a feeling that continued to be alien in its frustration. "It's not about that."

Yugi looked at him, curious, waiting for an explanation.

He didn't know how to explain it. That he was trying not to impose. That was all he'd done, for years, was impose on something that wasn't his, and Yugi had quietly let him and Atem didn't want to anymore. That Yugi let him have everything, and it wasn't right. He did not want to be the reason Yugi didn't stand up straight, and he was trying to find the right way not to be.

There had to be a way, for him to live and for them to be different. There had to be a balance, a way for him to be here and for Yugi to stand on his own, a way for them to sit together and be alone in their own heads, a way for them to share so much and be such different people, a way for them to rely on each other but in the right way, in the way you're supposed to, and not the way where they become each other's crutch. There had to be a way, because he couldn't be here and alive if meant that Yugi was going to keep standing in his shadow, because if there wasn't a way he would have to leave, and he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave. He never wanted to leave. How do you say all of that, though? Where do you even start?

Well. Out loud, maybe.

Yugi stood up off the bench and stretched, watched the strangers walking down the street. "You don't have to go back with us, if you don't want to." he said, his back still to him.

"What do you mean?"

"We all just kind of assumed." Yugi wasn't looking at him, quiet and plaintive. "This is where you're from, right? If you decided you wanted to stay, we wouldn't be mad at you. You should do whatever feels right." Yugi Muto's brave face, a shallow fake-cheer Atem knew very well, how Yugi swallowed fear the same way he covered up spiked accessories.

"No!" He said it a little too fast, a little too loud. "I told you, I want to be with you forever." He felt very stupid, saying that so loud, like it was obvious, a cheesy promise from years ago.

Yugi looked back at him again and smiled, relieved.

"It's just that I—" he started, attempted, still no script, he hated not having a script, looking like an idiot fumbling through uncharted territory.

Yugi waited.

"...We can't be," he said, "the same person."

Yugi wasn't expecting this answer, and after a moment of surprise he seemed to think it was a little funny. "That's what you're worried about?"

"You don't need me to take your place." he insisted. "It is yours, and I won't take it from you. You have to stand on your own."

Yugi glanced at the ground and murmured to himself, thinking. "Not in my place, and not in front." He sighed. "Can't you stand next to me?"

"What?"

Yugi's smile, sheepish, uncertain, polite, but always with more determination in his eyes than most people expected. "I don't want you to be me. We're not doing that anymore." Yugi stood up straighter, resolute. "I'm Yugi Muto, and I'm no one else but me." he recited, a day-old quote and a tongue-in-cheek imitation, and not a bad impression either. Atem felt a deep twinge of embarrassment hearing his own words thrown back at him. "And you're Atem! The only Atem in the world." He reached out a hand. "But if it's okay, I was thinking we could be Yugi and Atem together."

Atem took it, hesitantly, and let Yugi pull him off the bench, with more strength than he expected from Yugi, but there it was. Solid and strong and mutually corporeal.

"I'm glad you didn't really have to go." Yugi said. "If you left because of me, I don't know what I would have…" He trailed off, frowning.

"…Let's go back." Atem said, gently. "Before they worry about us."

And Yugi and Atem set off for the night, together and apart.

"What about the eggs?"

"...I don't have any money."

"Atem! What were you going to do?"

"I would have figured something out, partner."

--

"ATEM!" There it was again, that phantom u. Jonouchi was standing up as tall as he could make himself, face bright beet red in the way it got when he knew that whatever he was about to say was horribly schmaltzy and embarrassing but was going through with it anyway. Oh, god.

Atem smiled. "Yes, Jonouchi?"

"We were talking while you were gone." he said, crossed his arms, standing brazenly in the middle of the Ishtars' living room. "And I just wanted to, well, that you should know, maybe, thaaaat..."

"Spit it out, idiot!"

"Shut UP, Honda!" Jonouchi hissed, and you could hear at least three people snicker.

"I wanted to say," he continued, "that as a token of our friendship, and our unbreakable bond as duelists, if you really needed a name," he said, "You could be a Jonouchi. If you wanted."

"I am honored." he said, with the utmost gravity. "I will keep that in mind."

And Jonouchi nodded at him, and he nodded at Jonouchi, and this was all either of them needed to say.

"Um," Bakura started, politely raising his hand as if asking the teacher to call on him, "I pulled up the site I use to name role-playing characters and searched by etymological root, and I got a bunch that have meanings I thought you would like."

"And we," Marik said, with an arm around Otogi, who tolerated it with an awkward smile, "told him which ones were awful and made him cross them off the list until only the good ones were left."

"Thank you." he said, and meant it. "Anyone else?" he asked, as a joke.

Anzu looked like she wanted to say something, but when his eyes fell on her she just blushed. "It's not urgent. You'll think of something."

"He'll figure it out." Honda said. "We already almost died getting the first one. I think he can handle the next name by himself."

"I will." he said. He again reached up reflexively to touch the puzzle, but there was nothing there, so instead he just let it rest on his chest, which was his and no one else's, even if that still felt a little wrong. He would get used to it. He could.

Ishizu, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, sensed an end to the conversation and promptly intervened. "You know, you can all eat dinner as soon as you're ready. Any time now."

--

Somewhere around two in the morning, a couple of hotel rooms sat empty because everyone was having too much fun to leave the house once it got too late and the adults did not have the heart to kick them out. Instead Honda and Jonouchi had fallen asleep in one chair, curled up in a position they would both be very embarrassed about when they woke up in it tomorrow morning, which they would not do until after Otogi took photos; Anzu and Atem were both using Yugi as a headrest, close on either side of the couch; Otogi held a throw pillow and snored. The only ones left standing, Marik and Bakura, were still playing cards in the half-light until eventually ever so softly Marik asked, "So is he really just...gone?" to which Bakura smiled vacantly, opaquely, and did not answer except to put his deck back together, mid-game, and say he was going to bed.

Eventually the sun rose over the Nile, but there was no palace and no pharaoh for it to shine on, because there hadn't been a king of this country since 1952. Instead it fell through the windows of an ordinary house and on a very ordinary boy in a pink t-shirt, who wasn't a king of anything but just another exhausted teenager in a pile, drooling a little and holding tight to another ordinary teenager who bore a faint resemblance to him. When he woke up he would realize that he had no idea what he was going to do that day, and that was scary, but probably fine; and very soon he would go home and meet grandpa, properly as himself, and not realize until a few days in that he had been saying "home" and "grandpa" automatically and no one had tried to correct him, not once.

That would be in a few days, though. Today they would visit tourist traps, and buy a shirt that fit him better, and hand Marik a stack of papers, to which he would chew on the end of his pen and nod before returning less than an hour later with an ID and a birth certificate, and a copy of the left leg of Exodia as a freebie.

--

M U T O , A T E M 7 / 2 7 / 1980 KAME GAME 4-1-8, DISTRICT K.C., DOMINO-CHOU

[acorviart]

ok here's a list. also this is literally just a "slightly more explained reasons behind the gatekeeping" list I threw together, please do not read this expecting me to have tips on better ways to ask people for business advice or resources on how to find manus, because that's a whole other post I don't have the energy to write

I'm writing from my US-based experience, so US-based companies are referred to as domestic, and foreign manufacturers are referred to as overseas. 

A non-comprehensive list of reasons why a merch artist would refuse to share their manufacturer(s): Protecting their own business

The same way that bigger companies don’t share trade secrets, smaller creators are also entitled to decide with whom they’re willing to share business information, especially if they’ve put time and money into finding a manufacturer that works well for them.  Manufacturer hunting is expensive & time-consuming

There’s a reason that there are full-time jobs solely devoted to procurement. It can take weeks to months and hundreds of dollars in testing, sample fees, and shipping to find the right manufacturer, and that kind of information is incredibly precious. Sharing a manufacturer publicly and causing a flood of orders can overwhelm the manu, leading to an overall decrease in quality

When a manufacturer is widely shared and popularized in a short amount of time, they receive many orders that they are then pressured to fulfill while still hitting deadlines. This leads to a decrease in quality as they compromise for time, possibly an increase in price, delays, communication issues—obviously, this impacts everyone across the board, from the original artist to new customers. There is also no way to judge if/when a manu will/can bounce back to their original quality. This may force the original artist to go through the costly process of finding a new manu for their product.

Not all manufacturers are giant factories that can take thousands of orders and churn them out easily. Furthermore, not everything is automated—the manufacturing process of plenty of items (such as enamel pins and factory-made plushes) have handmade steps involved, so it's not so simple as "take order, press button on machine."

Acorn Press is an infamous example: years ago, they were a US-based small acrylic charm manu that was wildly shared and overcrowded, and it overwhelmed them to the point where they essentially turned into a black hole. People would place orders that wouldn't be completed for months, there was absolutely zero communication, and customers were understandably furious that they couldn't even get in contact with anyone to get refunds. It blew up to the point where I, a complete outsider to merch-making at that point in time, knew about the situation. More than half a decade later, their reputation has never recovered. I believe they are still active as a company now, and I'm not sure what their current quality/turnaround is like, but they have been stained so badly that to this day I still hear people warning against them whenever their name is brought up. Multiple people can have wildly different experiences with the same manufacturer

Manufacturers specialize in different things, and a manu that produces great results with one person’s art style may fail terribly with another person’s style.

For overseas manufacturing (such as in China) specifically, you typically work with and communicate through one person, a representative. Your experience can highly depend on the representative—two people can use the same factory, but the person with Rep A may have amazing results, while the person with Rep B has a terrible time. The kind of relationship you build with your representative or manufacturer can significantly impact the experience you have. Protecting their relationship with their manufacturer 

As stated in the previous point, manufacturers, factories, and representatives often have a close business relationship with the client built up over time. This could be jeopardized by a bad referral: for example, a referral who ghosts the factory after placing an order and causes the loss of thousands of dollars may be blamed on the client who referred them. Protecting themselves in general

Because two people’s experiences may be wildly different even when using the same manufacturer, the artist doesn’t want to be blamed for “sharing a bad manu” when in reality, there are multiple other factors involved.

In an extreme example, there was an incident where an artist was very open about their plush manufacturer to their fans, and in a huge breach of trust, one fan actually reached out to the manufacturer to both attempt to have the manu create another plush line specifically copying the artist and ask the manu to send them an unreleased plush sample that the artist was currently in the process of creating with the manu. Protecting the trust of colleagues 

Manufacturer info is often shared in confidence between friends or fellow creators, trusting each other to not to immediately share it with dozens of strangers.  Some products are more closely guarded than others

You see print and sticker manufacturing recommendations shared publicly significantly more often than any other product, and for good reason. They are good products for newbies to start with financially, they are easy for newbies to order from because there are so many domestic options, there are enough options between companies that overwhelming is less of a risk, and many of the large print/sticker companies that get recommended have a reliable history.

Manus for more complex products are the ones that are more closely guarded. Items such as apparel or plush have a significantly more complicated creation process, involving weeks to months of back and forth communication with a representative and paying for multiple samples and rounds of revisions. These are the manufacturers that take time and money to find and are not one-size-fits-all. It's usually complete strangers asking

These “who's your manu” questions are often asked by complete strangers with no leadup and treated as entirely transactional. Most questions I get are polite inquiries that I also politely respond to and decline, but the number of emails I've gotten that essentially ask "I want to start making merch, can you tell me every single one of your manufacturers" is higher than you think.

Even asking politely, the artist doesn’t know that person, their personality, or their work and can’t tell if they are someone who would match up well with their manufacturer or treat their business information appropriately.

Also, sometimes it’s easy to tell from experience that someone shouldn't be tackling the product they're asking for yet. My most commonly requested manus that people ask me for are my sock, hat, or tote bag manus. It's people who have never ever made or sold merch before who are asking me this, expecting that they'll be able to start with these products as their very first item. That's a fast way to lose hundreds, if not thousands of dollars right there! A box of 50 prints can be recycled, and you lost $40. A box of 50 tote bags will sit in your room for 5 years because you can't sell them, but you don't want to throw them away, and you lost $400.

tldr; big list of reasons why sometimes gatekeeping is necessary, don't let this scare you away from asking people for advice because helping each other is a good thing in a field that's as hard to survive in as art, but also please don't treat other artists like free business resources if you're a stranger

would anyone be interested if I made a breakdown post of reasons why merch artists don't share their manufacturers? it's oversimplified as "artists are just gatekeeping" in part because I think there's just not a lot of awareness that it's a significantly more complex situation and involves some level of risk compared to sharing simpler resources such as brushes

artists also don't tend to explain beyond "sorry, I don't share my manufacturers" (for good reason, they're not going to write an essay to answer a quick question) but maybe diving into the details will help people understand why so many merch artists are protective of their manufacturers and will not share with strangers

[cc-mr-vip]

Season 3 Initial Thoughts

- ℂ𝔸𝕄ℙ ℂℝ𝔼𝕋𝔸ℂ𝔼𝕆𝕌𝕊 𝕊ℙ𝕆𝕀���𝔼ℝ𝕊 𝔸ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻-

Holy shit, this Season was a doozy. I absolutely loved this season. It was a lot more intense than both Season 1 and 2, but had the realism from Season 1 that I loved so much.

Also I was fucking wrong, boys. Well not completely. I did make the prediction that they’ve been on the island for at least 2 months, because for some reason that was a reasonable number in my head. A nice believable number for the kids to have survived and did all they did, but six months!? Like half a year!? They would have been 1.5 years away from getting blown up from the volcano in JW2. Bruh...

The Scorpius Rex probably had the most terrifying design I had ever seen for a hybrid dinosaur. It felt way more threatening than both the Indominus and Indoraptor, probably because of it’s very odd hodgepodge of a design. I also love the twist of it being extremely unstable and causing other dinosaurs to lash out after being poisoned. Having this thing chase around the kids was definitely terrifying to say the least. Also wasn’t expecting Sammy to get spiked by the poison too (and turn an odd shade of green, sorta narmy lmao). I knew she wasn’t going to die, but I wasn’t expecting a nice squick shot of the quills in her abdomen that was a fun treat.

Also finally! Kenji, my boy, finally has some character backstory and development! I will probably do a more deeper analysis on Kenji’s drawing of his family, but is already kinda confirmed what kind of person his father is. He didn’t care enough about his son to want to put pictures of him on the wall, only himself. It makes sense why Kenji was so self absorbed as well. I found it pretty heartbreaking that Kenji risked his life to try rescue his father’s “precious” art statue. I’m not sure if he tried to rescue it because he was scared of his father scolding him or if he just wanted to bring it back for his father for a pat on the back. Either way, it’s just brings up sad implications all around. 

Honestly Kenji had some absolutely great development this season, in my opinion, way more so than the others had and way more interesting too. I think the episode that really marked a change in Kenji was Episode 5 (Eye of the Storm), when Kenji took it upon himself to be in charge of packing. For most of the episode, he was acting like typical Kenji, but he began to take his job way more seriously when it came to the safety of his friends. When Darius took after Ben, he properly took charge of the group (nice contrast to Season 1 where he was more nonchalant about it and tried to pass off responsibility). It was around this point that we didn’t see Kenji acting all high and haughty anymore, he was fully devoted to saving his friends.

I definitely wasn’t expecting Kenji to run off with the laptop to make the trade and save Brooklynn. The boy tried to fight a man with a loaded gun to save his friend, how foolish and brave of him to try do so. It was amazing to see Kenji, who spent most of the series cowering behind others, fully devoting himself to protecting Brooklynn in the finale (leading her to safety and shielding her with his own body). I do think that Kenji has some issues regarding losing friends; I think that the Camp Fam really is the first friends he’s ever gotten, which is why losing them hurt him so much (Sammy’s faux death and Brooklynn getting kidnapped). 

The way at the end when Kenji refused to forgive and accept the idea that they were going to risk Brooklynn’s safety over the laptop...it was a very mature way to handle that situation. Pragmatically, Kenji was absolutely right, they shouldn’t be risking their lives over a stinkin’ laptop. It’s not they’re responsibility, they’re just kids. But his friends were good people and Kenji played along, but decided to take matters into his own hands. His friends are important to him and he’s going to do anything to keep them safe. 

From haughty jock who only seemed to care about himself to a team member willing to risk everything to keep everyone safe, Kenji really has grown so much as a character.

All in all, I’m surprised the kids actually made it off the island this time. My friends and I were placing bets on whether or not they would make it off the island this season. Everyone had voted that they wouldn’t, but they did...hopefully? They got a stowaway so I’m wondering how they’re going to deal with that. Go back to the island? Keep going? Clearly it all isn’t over because Kenji’s character arc isn’t quite solved yet. I wonder how many more season CC will have. I do enjoy the series, but there’s only so much they can keep right?

This initial thoughts ended up more of a Kenji reaction post, so I’ll dedicate the end here to some other thoughts I had overall:

Yasmina and Sammy’s friend-(or maybe more)-ship was really cute and wholesome. I found Yasmina’s chumminess afterwards Hello-Zuko-Here levels of second hand embarrassment xD (Are they a maybe-couple? When Brooklynn mentioned crushes that Sammy might’ve had she mentioned Yaz lmao).

Thank god, Bumpy didn’t die. She has her own family now...for at least 1.5 more years until the volcano explodes...

Ben, you stupid child, of course you want to get off the island. I would have knocked you out and dragged you on the boat myself.

It was nice of the pilot and mercenary to board the kids upon finding out they were children. Even though they died / ended up splitting up the kids, the meant well.

I can’t believe Dr. Wu was in this season. He isn’t as much as a bad guy as I thought. He still left the kids, but at least he didn’t...kill them? Set the bar too low maybe?

And that’s all for now. This being a chock-full Kenji season, I’ll probably be doing some analysis or posts on him, but thought I’d make a reaction post with all my initial thoughts for now!