#there’s tons of books but I think those two just came to mind first

[ghostbeam]

oz!! hi hi hello!!! i am in your inbox for the writing ask game!!! 7 & 11 por favor 👀?

Hiiii hashie!!!<333

7. what books have shaped the way you think about writing the most? why?

I think Franny and Zoey has maybe been the one that has shaped me the most like in terms of like creating relationships between characters and things like that also the raven cycle series and the dreamer trilogy have taught me a lot about like world building and like also taught me a lot about characterization too

11. give three songs or images that fit [WIP].

Okay so I’m gonna do my Dabi mech au cause I have a playlist for that already soooo

Detonate-charli xcx

I’ll haunt you-tennis

Call for help-pearly drops

Writing ask meme<3

[monstersholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[infiniteglitterfall]

I do realize this is a real niche post but I cannot tell you how many damn times over the past 10 months I've seen gentiles tell Jews some version of, "Your own holy book SAYS God doesn't want you to have a country yet!"

And it's such an incredibly blatant and weirdly specific tell that they're not part of something that grew from progressive grassroots, but something based on right-wing astroturfing.

1. Staying in your own lane is a pretty huge progressive principle.

Telling people in another group that their deity said they couldn't do X is, I think, as far as you can get from your own lane.

2. It's also very clearly Not In Your Own Lane because I've never seen anyone actually be able to EITHER quote the passage they're thinking of, OR cite where it is.

It's purely, "I saw somebody else say this, and it seemed like it would make me win the debate I wasn't invited to."

3. It betrays a complete ignorance of Jewish culture and history.

Seriously? You don't know what you're referencing, its context, or even what it specifically says, but you're... coming to a community that reads and often discusses the entire Torah together each year, at weekly services... who have massive books holding generations of debate about it that it takes 7 years to read, at one page per day....

And saying, "YOUR book told you not to!"

I've been to services where we discussed just one word from the reading the whole time. The etymology. The connotations. The use of it in this passage versus in other passages.

And then there is the famous saying, "Ask two Jews, get three opinions." There is a culture of questioning and discussion and debate throughout Judaism.

You think maybe, in the decades and decades of public discussion about whether to buy land in Eretz Yisrael and move back there; whether it should keep being an individual thing, or keep shifting to intentional community projects; what the risks were; whether it should really be in Argentina or Canada or someplace instead; how this would be received by the Jews and gentiles already there, how to respect their boundaries, how to work with them before and during; and whether ending up with a fuckton of Jews in one place might not be exactly as dangerous for them as it had always been everywhere else....

You think NOBODY brought up anything scriptural? Nobody looked through the Torah, the Nevi'im, the Ketuvim, or the Talmud for any thoughts about any of this?? It took 200 years and some rando in the comments to blow everyone's minds???

4. It relies on an unspoken assumption that people can and should take very literal readings of religious texts and use them to control others.

And a sense of ownership and power over those texts, even without any accompanying knowledge about what they say.

It's kind of a supercessionist know-it-all vibe. It reads like, "I know what you should be doing. Because even if I'm not personally part of a fundamentalist branch of a related religion, the culture I'm rooted in is."

Bonus version I found when I was looking for an example. NOBODY should do this:

There are a lot of people who pull weird historical claims like "It SAYS Abraham came from Chaldea! That's Iraq!"

Like, first of all, a group is indigenous to a land if it arose as a people and culture there, before (not because of) colonization.

People aren't spontaneously spawning in groups, like "Boom! A new indigenous people just spawned!!"

People come from places. They go places. Sometimes, they gel as a new community and culture. Sometimes, they bop around for a while and eventually assimilate into another group.

Second: THE TORAH IS NOT A HISTORY TEXTBOOK OMFG.

It's an oral history, largely written centuries after the fact.

There is a TON of historical and archaeological research on when and where the Jewish culture originated, how it developed over time, etc. It's extremely well-established.

Nobody has to try to pull what they remember from Sunday school for this argument.

[strwbnnie]

‎✧ lovesick!chifuyu x hyperfem!bimbo reader : A jealous, pining Chifuyu finally gets the courage to approach you after watching you fraternize with Mitsuya ♡

black fem reader, chubby bimbo reader, reader is a fashion girlie! not really mentioned but chifu studies literature, semi-public sex (I think), kinda whiny reader, kind of a shift at the end. lovesick!chifuyu, reader is a maneater not a mean girl! (jk) Mitsuya & Takemichi make an appearance! There’s like one b*ji spoiler, standing doggy, slight choking, pussy eating, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), excuse any mistakes, MDNI

author’s note: for my bby @prtttycocobuttvr 🫶🏾chile this has been in the drafts for idk how long 🥲 extra long for literally no reason, the bulk of it isn’t even the smut…the ending is so abrupt 😭 but I really needed this out my drafts

wc: 3.7k

─────────── εїз ───────────

Every now and then Chifuyu thinks back to the day the two of you met.

He fucking hated you at first, he’s ashamed to admit. Was it really hate though? Could’ve been annoyance, jealousy maybe? A lil bit of both is what he’ll chalk it up to. It was love at first sight for him, meanwhile you never gave a second glance in his direction.

He started seeing you more as the weeks passed, the two of you had no classes together, but he still saw you around far too often. You smelled just like marshmallows or vanilla, something sweet that demanded his attention every single fucking time you strutted past him. 

It became a routine—class, cafe and lastly the library where he’d find you doing anything but reading. 

Once a quiet safe haven for him to relax with a good book, now overtaken by the clicks and clacks of you touching up your makeup, or the rustle of a potato chip bag while you sit there with your pink Hello Kitty headphones watching some Netflix drama, even the constant sucking and the jumbling of ice as you slurp down every drop of your boba coffee while waiting for your newest minion to finish your homework.

That day was supposed to be no different. You and one of your minions were heading to that same table, around the same time you always arrived. You looked so damn good too. You always did. 

He was obsessed with your new hair color, black girl blonde is what he learned it’s called. Ash blonde with dark chocolate roots and it’s just so damn pretty he’s losing his fucking mind. Your face is fresh and bare, no makeup aside from a dark blackish-brown lip liner and gloss. Lashes full and fluffy, you must’ve gotten them filled over the weekend.

His eyes are trailing your every move, waiting for the glimpse of your backside that never came.

“Hiiiii Mitsu & friends!” You leaned down to drape yourself over the lavender’s shoulders. Chifuyu tries to keep his cool, brows furrowed and eyes almost as wide as saucers as he watched this strange display. 

And friends? How fucking pathetic is that. Granted, he didn’t know your name either, often referring to you as “that pretty girl” when he spoke about you to Baji’s grave but fuck, that made him feel like shit. 

It’s the first time he’s heard that cute voice of yours and it’s when you’re greeting Takashi fucking Mitsuya?? You guys seem well acquainted and it burns Chifuyu up inside, when the fuck did you two get all buddy-buddy? And what the fuck did Mitsuya have that he didn’t? 

He wonders who initiated the first contact, wouldn’t be surprised if it was Mitsuya, he’d always had the confidence a loser like him lacked. He was also very good with women, unlike Chifuyu. Then again, you seem very bubbly and outgoing so it very well could’ve been you who approached him.

“Here are those fabric swatches I was telling you about. If you decide to use any just let me know! I have tons of rolls and I can bring you some yards.” You hand him a couple of squares of fabric. At least ten 4x4 squares that you took the time to cut and string on a little o-ring like paint swatches. So cute. 

“Thank you, y/n!” He smiles. “I’ll surely let you know.”

Just like that, you’re heading over to your table, minion hot on your heels. 

It’s a quick exchange, and it should’ve been harmless, but boy does it boil his blood. God, did you speak to everyone but him?!

“Y/N,” Damn, he learned your name, heard your voice and watched you diss him all in one sitting. It was insane. “You know her?”

“Yeah, we’ve only spoken a few times but she’s super friendly. She’s an exchange student from the states, a fashion major too, we have classes together.” Mitsuya spoke as he sketched out a few designs for a project. 

“This would make a nice jacket.” He shows Takemichi the blush pink corduroy square for him to feel. “Maybe pants too if she has enough. It’d look nice on Koko, he’s my model.” “It would! It’s nice and soft, like velvet! Koko’s super pretty too, it’ll look great.”

He steals glances at you every now and then. 

“Just talk to her dude, she’s literally so sweet.”

He doesn’t raise his head, still sketching away, but it’s clear who his words are directed to. Mitsuya has known him for quite some time, of course he knew how to read his pragmatic friend. 

“Yeah! Unless you’re scared.” 

He cuts his eyes at the crybaby blonde. Of course he wasn’t scared, just a bit apprehensive is all. 

He looks your way one last time.

Your back is to him and you have your MacBook open in front of you watching a recap of celebrity metgala looks. You’re enamored by your fashion content, even taking notes in your cute notebook with your adorable pom-pom pen. You’re too oblivious—too much of an airhead in your own dumb little world to notice that simp eye fucking you. 

Dude’s practically drooling while staring at your tits. It’s disgusting, enraging even. It boiled his blood, so much that he’s scooting his chair back to approach the both of you. Takemichi and Mitsuya watched him with careful eyes, since he didn’t say a word before he made his move. Fuck it, his pride was already shot and he didn’t have shit else to lose. 

You didn’t even notice him at first, both airpods in, now staring into your hello kitty shaped compact mirror while reapplying that sticky beauty supply lipgloss all over your plump pout. 

Before he could even stop himself he’s snatching up your homework sheet, scanning his eyes over this chump’s work. Wrong. Wrong. Most were either fucking wrong or incomplete! Complete bullshit and he was gonna let you turn that in?!? 

“Get the fuck outta here.” He’s speaks so calmly, it’s all the more sinister. 

The four-eyed geek is snatching up his bag and calculator so damn fast you’d think Chifuyu had a gun to his head. 

It pissed him off so bad! But why did it piss him off so bad? 

Probably because you’ve approached everyone but him as if he’s not one of the smartest people on this fucking campus. Probably fucked them all too, so why were you being so damn stingy with him? And why the hell was he so worried about it?

Chifuyu motions to sit down next to you, thighs spread with his hands clasped between them. He run’s his sweaty palms along his pants every now and then, trying to build the courage to speak to you. 

You give your lips one last smack, capping your lipgloss and shutting your compact. “Hey, you’re Mitsu’s friend! Do you know where…nevermind. I don’t even remember his name.”

“He said he had something to do, I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh okay. What’s up?” You finally give him your undivided attention, dropping your stuff into your little designer baguette bag, turning in your chair until you’re facing him. You’re almost instantly entranced by those striking eyes, iris’ the color of sea glass. The dark locks of his undercut styled messy and wild. He’s cute. Real cute. 

“I like you.” Chifuyu has never been one to beat around the bush, even though his heart was nearly beating out of his chest right about now.

“You don’t know me to like me, so if you wanna fuck me, just say that.”

You say it like it’s nothing. Must be used to it by now, constant fetishizing instead of genuine attraction. But the way he’d been pining over you was much deeper than someone who just wanted a quick fuck. You plagued his mind—his thoughts, all you.

He runs his tongue over his lips, not in a creepy way, but because he’s nervous and they’re dry. Either way you still notice it, it’s kinda hot honestly. 

 “I do. I mean I would, but I don’t want to-I don’t have to,” He’s stumbling all over his words and it’s fucking embarrassing. Word vomit, is what Mitsuya calls it, it starts and there’s no telling when it stops. 

“Regardless, I wanna know you–I think you’re so pretty, I like your style, the way you dress and stuff. And I’ll do your homework, if you want. Or I can actually show you how to do it, cus’ if you turn this garbage in you’re sure to fail.” Chifuyu tosses out. He barely wanted to do his own, so why the fuck was he offering to do yours? Was he that desperate for your attention? 

You’re twirling your hair around your finger, head tilted. You’d never had one of them offer to teach you, just always offering to do it just to be in your space. 

“Hmmm..so you wanna be my tutor. I guess, but what’s in it for me?”

The blackette could feel his eye start to twitch, there’s no way you were serious. “I’m doing your homework and tutoring you for free, what the fuck else do you want from me?” He scoffs. 

Greedy bitch. 

“Boy please, I can have any of these other guys doing my homework. You obviously want something from me and I just wanna know what you’ll offer me in return.” 

“I don’t want anything from you, I’just want you.”

You stare at him and he stares back, that adorable face of his morphed into a slight pout. He holds eye contact the entire time, it’s almost intimidating, but his aura is so light and genuine. 

He’s a strange boy, you’ve concluded, but it’s intriguing. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t fuckin know,” He truly doesn’t know, you’re just a dumb girl he happened to see at school. Not the first and definitely not the last, but you’ve been on his mind since he first laid eyes on you. “But I like you, a lot. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He was infatuated and he didn’t know why. 

You divert your eyes, tapping your puffball of your pen against the wooden table. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 

There’s a pause, you look at him and he looks at you before he sucks his teeth. “You’re joking.” Even still, he feels the blood rushing from his cheeks to his cock.

“You said whatever I want.” He needs to make sure he heard that correctly. Was it a test? A prank? Because you’re obviously just fucking with him. “But if it’s too forward, we can just study I guess.”

He’s silent and so are you but the way he’s boring into your soul makes you wish you never brought it up at all. “You serious?”

You nod, batting your fluffy mink lashes at him and as lame as it sounds, that’s all it took. 

Next thing he knew, Chifuyu was eating his crush’s pussy in one of the private study rooms. He’s almost embarrassed at how quickly he fell to his knees, eager to slurp on your pretty, plump cunt. 

The library is old. One of the oldest buildings on campus, hasn’t been renovated since it was built. A private study room was the perfect place—just a windowless, concrete box where no one could see or hear you leaned on your back with your feet in the air while he sucked on your pussy. 

Your clit is juicy and suckable, the pink nub catches his attention the minute he slid your panties down and spread your thighs open. 

He’s used to keeping his face stuffed in a book back here, now he’d much rather have his face stuffed between your thighs every second of the day. 

You’re a sight to see right now, tits spilling out from under your top, panties looped around one of your ankles and your skirt is flipped up and out of the way, away from the mess he’s making between your thighs. 

He’s so messy with it, spitting on it and slurping it back up, licking stripes up your sweet pussy until your clit is peeking out of its hood.

“So good.” He breathes out, spreading you wider. From your hole, all the way up and back down again, his tongue leaves no part of your cunt untouched. He’s dragging up one last time before sucking your cute little clit between his lips, running his hands up and down your plush thighs and belly. 

After a while you lean up and your shaky hands manage to pry those supple pink lips away from your clit, his lips leaving your pussy with a loud, wet ‘pop’. “Waittt, I never got your name.” You whined. 

As if names, or lack there of, had ever stopped you. But you desperately wanted to know his and you wanted to scream it when you came—which would be very soon if he kept sucking on your clit like that. 

He’s gazing up at you with those dazzling seafoam green eyes, silvery strands of your slick still connected to his lips when he pulls away from your pussy. 

“Chif-fuck...” He’s huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath, resting his head on your thigh for a moment. Your hand is running through his hair, back and forth petting motions until his breathing slowed. “Chifuyu. Matsuno..Chifuyu.” 

He rarely gave his full name, at least not to people he held no respect for. But you were different, he just knew you were. He’d never been this intrigued by another person since middle school when he met the infamous Baji.

“Chi-fu-yu. Chif-uyu.”

You test it on your tongue, wanting to get every syllable right. It makes him fucking melt, the sound of his name flowing from your glossy lips is so pretty. Fuck, he needed to hear you moaning, screaming and babbling it like a little slut. His little slut.

He wastes no time pressing his lips back to your pussy, licking thick stripes up and down, fat tongue relentlessly teasing your entrance and dragging back up to your clit.

“F-fuck how are you so good at this..” It catches you off guard. His head is sloppy and nasty, but not too wet with just enough teasing to drive you insane. It’s almost as if he’d been acquainted with your pussy before this, but you know there’s no way. 

You barely notice how your body subconsciously rocks against him, rubbing your pussy up and down his face, your clit bumping his little button nose every single time. 

Your question falls on deaf ears. 

The once bright-eyed boy is now staring at you, his eyes alarmingly low and glossed over as he loses himself. 

He’s too far gone now, lost in absolute bliss between your thighs—the taste of your gooey, sticky cunt, your moans, the feel of your thighs trembling. Pussydrunk wasn’t even the word.

He lets you use him. Lets his tongue hang slack against his chin for you to grind your puffy clit against it. His face is wet and sticky and he’s covered up to his cheeks in your slick. He can barely breathe, you’re rocking far too fast for him to get a breath in, but even still Chifuyu would eat your pussy until he was blue in the face if it meant pleasing you. 

Every inhale is laced with your scent and it’s like an aphrodisiac. Everything about this was so perfect. He can feel the shivers running up and down your body—you’re close, he knows it and that’s when he gets relentless. 

“G-nna cum for you baby..can I cum?”

Christ, the way his dick jumped should’ve been a sin. Chifuyu hums against your clit, groans his approval so his lips don’t have to abandon your perfect pussy again. You can feel every single lick & suck and even the puffs of air he breathes out of his nose as he slurps on your cunt, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming Chifuyu. Mmm, I’m cumming. Chifu-” 

Your climax hits you like a punch to the gut, knocks the wind out of you and has you doubling over with your hands tangled in his dark locks, your trembling thighs squeezing against his neck. 

Your moans and pants are so sexy, he loves you like this. You don’t even realize you’re running from him until he grips your hips tighter, pulling you forward and holding you taut.

He’s desperate to drink up all you’ll give him, thick tongue gliding over your hole before he’s shoving it inside. Not a drop of your lovely essence goes to waste as you let him get his fill. 

The chime of the desk phone startles you and forces him to part from your cunt. He looks at you and you look at him, you make no move to get it forcing him to. 

“Chifuyu!” The librarian calls, he frequents this place so often that the two of them have gotten quite familiar. “Sorry to bother you and your girlfriend, but the library closes soon-“ She’s checking her watch. “In about ten minutes hun.” 

“Ah, okay! Thank you Miss and she’s not-” When he catches the dial tone he places the phone back on the receiver. 

“She says we have ten minutes until the library closes.” 

Before he can even finish, you’re already on your knees shoving his joggers and underwear down in one swift move. His dick is gorgeous—thick with a pretty pink tip. You’re not sure about the size, seven maybe seven and a half inches. Either way, it fills your mouth perfectly, big and heavy on your tongue as you lick the precum dripping from the tip.

The minute he feels your mouth on him he nearly loses all control, knees threatening to give. Chifuyu grips your jaw, popping his cock out of your mouth with an audible ‘pop.’

He notices a dip in between your brows. A frown? 

A pouty frown on your pretty face accompanied by a roll of your eyes. So cute. 

“Chifuuu,” You whining his name is tearing him apart inside, staring up at him with those doe eyes. “We only have 10 minutes. I wanna make you cum.” 

He’s pulling you back up, spinning you until your ass is pressed against his crotch. 

“I know pretty…I’m gonna fuck you.” His voice is breathy, desperate. “That okay?”

It’s soft but he hears it. The soft ‘yeah’ tumbling from your lips, the small gasps of anticipation as  you raise up on your tip toes to meet his height. He’s sliding his length through the junction of your thighs, coating himself in your slick.

It’s so good, this little crevice between your thighs and cunt feels like heaven. Like the warmest hug embracing him with every push and pull of his hips.

He has to force himself to pull away. He wouldn’t be able to face you again if he came from fucking your thighs. 

Blunt fingertips melt into the plush flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks to watch as he slides past the tight ring of your entrance, a loud squelch greeting him when he bottoms out. 

You’re the epitome of enticing, a pretty bitch with a perfect pussy, and honestly he feels undeserving. He feels his infatuation for you growing deeper, except this is something he wants, no, needs forever.

He’s so gentle, stroking slow and stretching you out just right cus it’s a tight fit. 

Despite the wetness dripping down your thighs, you feel every single inch of him. The burn of the stretch, the slight ache as he kisses your cervix with every clumsy thrust. Your pussy feels so good around him, like it was made for him. Made to take his dick. 

“I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d be so b-big.”

Snaking his hands around your neck, he’s pulling you up so your back meets his chest, rolling his hips so the thick head of his dick mushes against the gummy walls of your g-spot. Your legs are trembling but he holds you up. Heavy breaths against your ear as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah? You don’t think much of me at all, do you? Think you’re too good for me?” 

“Noooo! I don’t think that.” He’s not letting up, stroke after stroke, until you’re creaming all over him, and even then, he still doesn’t stop. “W-would never… think that.”

The thick white fluids settling at the base of his cock, the slick gush of your pussy every time he fucked into you. It was driving you mad. 

“I don’t exist in your world,” Thrust after thrust. “But you consume mine, I want you so bad.”

Your brain is fuzzy, just barely able to make out what he’s saying. “I-ah want you tooo…y’know just h-how to handle me baby.”  

“Yeah,” He breathes out. “Of course I do.”

You’re not sure if it’s the sureness in his voice or the sweet kiss he presses against the bare skin behind your ear that sends you over the edge but your climax hits you like a train carrying the sweetest bliss. You don’t utter a word, just deep breaths and pants, a quiet belt of his name towards the end as you melt into him with every buck of his hips. He feels it—the spasms, the trembling, the cozy warmth you coat him in, an impromptu reminder that he’s unprotected inside of you. Still, he fucks you through it, just until he’s close enough-

“F-f-fuuuck.” The groan rips through his throat as he reaches his end, the grip on your neck loosens as he pushes you down and spills his seed all over the cheeks of your ass. 

He’s so unprepared it’s a shame, forced to use the inside of his turtleneck to clean the mess he made, even going as far as to place you up on the table and wipe between your thighs.

“Oh you didn’t have to- I have wipes..” 

“No big deal, didn’t wanna dirty your skirt. You made this, right?” He rubs the hem of the frayed pink denim, recall’s seeing a square of this same fabric on the ring you gave Mitsuya. 

“I-I did. How did you know?” 

 “I remember seeing you sketching it out. Glad it turned out nice enough for you to wear. It’s cute..” He trails off when you avert your gaze.

“Thank you. I’m glad too…” You trail off and you avert your gaze.

“Don’t go acting shy on me, y/n.” It’s the first time you’ve seen it, something akin to a smile on his cute little face, his eyes are as bright as stars as he stares down at you. It’s odd, almost as if the roles had changed.

“I’m not!” You whine. “It’s just strange, you’re strange Chifuyu.” 

[writingstoraes]

sparks 🎇

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: written imagine (fluff)

word count: 1.7k, no warnings hehe

notes: once again this is a new idea even though i have a ton of drafts like my mind is a mess so i am not surprised ANYWAY . trying to get out of a writing slump so lmk what u guys think! ALSO apologies for any typos or grammatical errors this is not proofread at all 😆

about:  The few of the many times Charles’ heart skipped a beat because of you.

Movies have always portrayed “real” sparks so well. Sometimes it’s a scene where a guy sees the girl for the very first time during a first date and he freezes for a moment, the apparent electricity between two people when their hands almost touch and they panic for a little while, or the moment of suspense before a first kiss and the exhilaration after.

But Charles taught that was exactly what they were - movie scenes. He lingered on the thought that the moments where sparks flew and one’s heart skips a beat, those moments cannot be manufactured in real life. They stay in movies, books, in the arts; where they belong, somewhere where they were fiction.

Not until he experiences it first-hand, not until he meets you, the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand.

He felt it the first time your hands ever touched. 

At first, he thought he was going crazy. There was no way he felt a current run through his skin the moment it came in contact with yours, but to this day, it’s a testament he swears on very seriously. 

You had been going out for a few weeks, several dates here and there. It was the exact point where you felt comfortable with each other, but only starting to be, hence why there were still evident boundaries present. The two of you were careful to not cross any, especially Charles. He’s cautious on establishing any physical touch, sure, he’s held your waist to guide you through bustling crowds and had slung his arm over your shoulder, but he hasn’t held your hand. At least, not yet. 

He had invited you to have dinner on his yacht, set at the perfect time where you can be of witness to the beautiful sunset over the sea. He says the food was nearly done, so he set up two comfortable chairs that gave you just the perfect view of the Monaco skies. The sun was setting and the golden sky formed a beautiful gradient with the blue hue that painted it beforehand. 

He turns his head to you, your arm resting on the chair’s handles, a tad bit preoccupied with the view in front of you. He keeps a smile to himself, enjoying the personalized view he had. For some reason, he feels the urge to hold your hand, or at least rest his on top of yours. He was hesitating and second-guessing, lifting his finger once in a while and then putting it back down when he decides not to push through. It didn’t help that there were minimal distance between your chair and his, and so he was fighting the urge to initiate contact and have you flee off. 

But his hesitant hand that kept on moving was something you grew to notice, and thanks to your knowledge of many, many romance movies, you assumed it meant he wanted to hold your hand but was too afraid to do it. You shove the thought of doing it first in the back of your head, overthinking that you might be wrong and he in fact did not want to hold your hand. 

Maybe it was something in the air, the quiet waves of the ocean, or just the fact that he really really liked you. 

He finally lifts his hand so he can reach yours, resting it softly on top of your hand. He lets out a relieved and contented sigh when he feels you ease into his touch. His heart raced faster, like it was screaming for help and begging to be let out of his chest.

As if that was not enough, he feels a current run through his arm and out of his fingertips the moment you grasp his hand and decide to interlock your fingers with his then setting it on top of the chair’s handle.  He swears he saw fireworks when he closed his eyes and his heart finally exploded out of his chest. He vows he can stand up and jump around out of joy, but he chooses to indulge in the moment and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze instead.

He had met you earlier in the season and he would be lying if he said he didn’t want you to see him in his element, doing what truly made him happy. That is, if his team does not proceed to ruin the entire weekend for him and his dedicated fans.

He invited you to watch a grand prix, in a track that he felt most comfortable. He was the perfect gentleman whe he extended the invite, letting you know you could always decline if you didn’t feel like going. You were together, in all terms to be considered, but he didn’t want to pressure you into finally making your appearance only because he knew how harsh it could get. He assures you that he will take care of everything and all you needed to do was come.

You were committed to attend the entire weekend, from free practice until the race itself. Even if Charles was quick to reassure you that you didn’t have to be there for everything, you only return a smile and tell him you wanted to be, which not surprisingly calmed his nerves. 

You knew people were going to stare, fans will take pictures, even the possibility of you making headlines. This was your first paddock appearance as his girlfriend, after all. It was inevitable, so you try to take your mind off of the pressure. Much to your nerves bothering you before you even got on the plane, you had been racking your brain on what to wear. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard or too little. 

You finally settle on an outfit and your lips form a small smile as you looked in the mirror. It was nothing extravagant, only a black one-shoulder top and a black high-waisted pants that you paired with a red leather jacket. It’s not like you wanted what you wore to scream Ferrari, but you wanted to add a little touch, at least for Charles. 

“What do you think? I chose the red jacket for you,” you turn around to see Charles, seeing as you heard his footsteps earlier and knew he entered the room.

If he was being honest, he had seen you put on the outfit. He witnessed how you cocked your head to the side trying to see if it looks good. He sees the outfits laid on the bed, all with a touch of red, and he could feel butterflies swarm his stomach at the thought of you carefully planning out your outfits to include his team’s colors.

There it was again, the stupid sparks that he’s been getting ever since he met you. He curses himself for being a little non-functional when feels them, but he figures he has to get used to being blown away by everything you did. It feels magnetic, like he’s feeling actual static. You make him feel so much by just doing so little. 

He sees you twirling around in front of the mirror, smiling when you finally put on the red leather jacket, looking satisfied. 

He stops at his tracks, at least internally, and fails to respond for at least 10 seconds. 

“Do you not like it? I can always go change-”

“No,” he says, almost out of voice. “You look absolutely beautiful.” 

Where he was standing, he swears he sees fireworks erupt behind you.

Charles stands on the podium, feeling victorious and ecstatic he had clinched another win for his Formula 1 career. He looks fondly at the sea of crowd cheering for him, waving flags of his own country, Ferrari, and Italy. From where he stood he could see Fred’s big smile and the engineers celebrating, jumping up and down. 

The trophies had been awarded and the Monaco national anthem had finally played. He was wearing his Pirelli cap and completely drenched in champagne. He scans the crowd down the podium, hoping to get a glance of you. Earlier, he did tell you you didn’t have to witness the awarding personally should he win, because he didn’t want you to get in between many people and possibly get shoved or pushed. He assumes that you were in the garage, waiting for him, probably with a kiss and a hug. 

He leans over the makeshift railing of the stage, eyes still set on possibly sighting you. When he fails to find you, he finally comes down and there he sees you, just near the stairs going up to the podium with teary eyes and a wide smile. There you stood with hands clasped together, in awe of Charles who was standing in front of you. 

He feels his heart race yet again, having experienced the first time you ever greeted him after he claims P1 in a race. Even just by looking at you he feels his world shift, like its only goal was to pull him towards you, like the fireworks that took the skies earlier weren’t enough and he was having his own show. 

He jogs towards you, exhilirated and filled with adrenaline and pulls you into a tight embrace. His entire body twitches when you plant a soft kiss on his cheek, as if every fiber of his being had turned into putty at your touch. Everytime you engulf him in an embrace, kiss his cheek, or run your hands through his hair, he feels as if he’s inside his car going at least 320 kilometers per hour. He has no clue how you do it, how you possibly make him feel like he’s won a race every time he was with you;  as if you and his heart had a binding agreement. 

“Congratulations, mon champion du monde,” you say slowly and close to Charles so only he could hear, hoping you didn’t mess up the pronunciation, after having practiced it several times on the plane. 

Something tugs at his heartstrings, having been greeted by the knowledge that you sent out his well wishes in French, even though you didn’t speak the language and mentioned you were always scared you were going to say something wrong. But mostly because you called him your world champion, and that just sends him down a spiral.

“Thanks for being here, amour.” he replies, pulling you in again for another hug. 

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

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: thanks for reading everyone <3 will try to post a 1.4k special soon but firstly thank u so much for all the love hehehe hope u guys r having the nicest day!

[tallymonster]

Memories of Us

Chapter 1 (you are here!) || Masterlist

So, I like many others had seen this gorgeous fan art by @cheesy-cryptid and I was utterly hypnotized by it. I couldn't stop thinking about it and from that constant thought growing came my silly fic.

This has been a labor of love for the last month. I'm still working on it and so far I have about 10 parts 🙃 depending on the feedback is how quickly I'm going to be posting since it's still a work in progress. I want to thank my best friend and my main support for this @micropoe10 ❤️ without her I wouldn't have pushed myself to even post this, so thanks boo 😘

This is also my first long fic, so please be gentle 🥺

Summary: Octavia is a new assistant at the Baldur's Gate Museum of History, her new boss is elusive and mysterious. Good thing his right hand man, Gale, is there to help her out for the first few weeks.

Tags: Nothing too bad for the first few parts, fluff, establishing storyline mostly, generational lineage mentioned.

Chapter 1

Never Caught My Breath

The day Octavia was incredibly nervous about had arrived. After her graduation (which seemed like a lifetime ago), endless stack of paperwork and at least 3 different interviews; Octavia made it to the Baldur's Gate Museum of History, the end of her long and difficult studies.

Here, she would start as the new assistant curator. What's strange though, is that after the last interview she thought she'd get to meet her boss, but it was his main assistant, Gale.

"I must apologize", he begins, "but our lead is currently out of the office for another week, maybe two, so I must conduct the final round, I hope you understand."

Strange, but not unheard of. The majority of the work would be with Gale directly, but it was at the least, the most basic courtesy for her boss to introduce himself by this point.

As she walks into the museum, relics from the past line the cabinets; old armor and gloves from heroes of legends from long ago, tons of jewelry and books, rare spell scrolls, and most prized of all, paintings recovered from the fall of the Szarr Manor prominently hung on the walls. Their subjects long gone, they now serve to be viewed by those who would be their victims under different circumstances.

Octavia stops at one of the many paintings of a pale elf, his silver hair in perfect tendrils, piercing red eyes glare back at her and she feels a slight shudder run down her spine, it was probably just a little bit of nerves. Still, she couldn't help but notice that same subject surrounding her in other works. If not as the main feature, but in the background of at least a dozen. Who was this person? She drifts off in thought.

"Miss Octavia? Hello? Can you hear me?" Snapping back from the daydream, she sees Gale standing beside her. His positive attitude ever present, notebook in hand he greets her with a small wave. "Lots to do this morning! We got a delivery of religious artifacts from a Sharran temple in the Underdark that was previously thought to be lost." His eyes glimmer with excitement.

"We're looking at at least a day to see what was delivered, another to catalog it all, and then, my favorite part, writing the plaques for all of it." He chuckles "Altogether at least a month of work, maybe two if there's a particular item that's more mysterious than the others." He finishes his explanation with a tilt of his head.

Octavia nods, her mind still on the portrait, "Quick question, Gale? Do you know who that subject is? They're featured in a lot of the paintings, but there's no information about them?" He glances up, "Well, we've done some research into the subjects of all the paintings, luckily we've put some names to faces..." He trails off, brows furrowing slightly at the face staring at them both "that particular subject, though, unfortunately not."

He turns wearing a wistful smile "I do wish to put a name to that face, and I intend to, but our wonderful curator often reminds me that not every mystery has to be solved." He scoffs with a grin and shrugs "Of course he would, he loves to give me a hard time about my dedication to the museum, you'd think he would appreciate the tireless research but to each their own."

Octavia relaxes a bit and ask "Have you known each other long? I mean, since he's been gone this whole time I haven't gotten to meet him yet. Is he....nice?" She says the last word quietly, almost a whisper.

Gale picks up on the anxious question and lowers his notebook, his eyes softened as he leans in, "There's nothing to be nervous about with him, he's much more bark than bite, as they say. He's really wonderful once you get to know him. Just a little rough around the edges...you know these eccentrics..they're all so guarded but deep down, they're just like us regular boring people."

He grins in assurance and goes back to his notebook, "Before I forget, said eccentric has reached back out to me and he'll be returning tomorrow evening! He'd like to make your acquaintance as soon as possible and apologize for his absence." Oh, shit. "Wonderful!" She does an okay job at hiding the crack in her voice, she clears throat, grimaces a bit and adjusts the badge clipped to her smock. "When and where?"

[artificial-transmutations]

Transformation Letter: Michael

Hey, I'm Michael, a 20 year old guy at a top university, but it's not exactly the experience I thought it would be and I just want a change. I'm just kinda an average looking guy with short brown hair, blue eyes and an unremarkable body, pretty average all round. I still wanna be a man at the end of this, being an object isn't exactly appealing to me.

Being accepted at a top university has always been a dream of yours, but boy didn't you anticipate how much work it was going to be. At first, the orientation phase had been pretty fun. But after the first semester was over, you realized just how hard the courses were. It was certainly no comparison to the school you went to before and sometimes you even found yourself envying the people that were in the normal degree program.

Still, you had a dedication to make the best of it and managed to stay in the top tier of your classes. That came at a cost, however. Your social life was pretty much non-existent. It was always late evening when you finished up studying and most of the time you were simply too tired to even think about partying or meeting friends.

You are at your desk now, surrounded by tons of books, and have just begun a new chapter, listening to some lo-fi music from your laptop to help you concentrate. It has been weeks now since you sent that letter to the shady internet company in a moment of weakness. Everything you wrote was true: You don't really hate the university, but it isn't at all how you imagined it to be: A relaxed and laid back episode of your life filled with friends and parties. Everything in you longs for a change, but your ambition keeps you on track.

Still, you normally wouldn't express these thoughts to a stranger like that, and you don't really know why you decided to write the letter in the end. Regardless, it has been weeks now and you doubt there will be any kind of answer. Perhaps the company has gone out of business or has never existed to begin with.

You turn the page of your textbook, looking sighingly at yet another page filled with formulas when suddenly the music coming from your laptop changes.

Where before it has been more of a rhythmic lo-fi noise, the track that just began to play is clearly a pop song, something you have heard at the radio before. You frown. Perhaps Dotify has reached the end of your playlist and has entered that arcane mode with 'recommendations'. You always wondered how in the world the algorithm choses those, as they more often than not have nothing in common with the previous playlist.

You reach over to your laptop to change the music back, but you stop in your tracks. Even though you're not exactly a fan of pop songs, it is quite a catchy tune, so you let it play.

You quickly realize, however, that it's distracting you from your lecture. After you have read the same formula twice over, you lay down the book. Perhaps it’s time for a short break. You lean back in your chair and close your eyes for a moment, rubbing your temples and just listen to the music, trying to recollect what you've learned so far in this session.

However, the more you try to remember and connect the dots, the less you feel like you understand the subject at all. It's like whenever you try to concentrate on a connection you have already made, the cheery tune invades your mind and snaps it in two. The whole thing is just two complicated, beyond your mental reach. You feel dumb admitting that, but perhaps you have to start being honest to yourself. You're just not that bright, and it has probably been a mistake trying to pretend you were and enrolling in this university.

The song ends and a new one begins. This one is more powerful, rock music from the 80s or 90s. It is surprisingly relaxing to just admit defeat, and you open your eyes again, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed behind your head. For a good few seconds, you just stare at the pile of books in front of you before you notice something is off. There's a faint smell of... sweat? Following it with your head, you notice your armpits. You are smelling your own sweat and somehow it is not unpleasant at all.

Additionally, however, you can see that your pits are filled with a generous bush of hair - which is something new for you entirely. You normally don't have any body hair to speak of. Curiously, you take a closer look and sniff, try to pull on them - but the pit hair is clearly here and clearly yours. Weird!

You scratch your chin and are surprised when your hand meets stubble. You have definitely been smooth just a few moments ago. Yet, the bristly texture feels good under your hand. You rub your cheeks, where your facial hair seems to be even denser and smile. It's the kind of manly and mature look that you have always dreamed about, even though it is somewhat unexpected. It's a bit sad that you don't have a mirror, but you can feel it with your hand just fine as the beat of the music continues.

You get up from the chair, stretch your limbs and feel a weird pressure in your crotch. As you look down, you notice that your dick is pressing hard against the fabric of your pants. It's hardly surprising, with the weird changes going on to your body! You wonder...

Sheepishly, you slip out of your shirt and are rewarded with a pretty alien sight: Not only is your chest covered in short dark hair, it is also much more impressive than what you're used to. In fact, there is visible definition, not only in your chest but also in your abs where a thick treasure trail of hairs disappears into your pants. But not only your torso is changed. You can practically watch as with every beat, another pulse goes through your body, adding a bit of manliness, a bit of muscle here and there. Your biceps bulge out as if you work out regularly and even your legs gain a bit of definition.

The music keeps playing, and so do the changes. You are no longer the skinny, nerd boy who struggles with calculus. No, you are a real man, a guy that knows his way around a gym, a guy that is respected by other people. You are not only a man, however, you are a real fine specimen of man, with a powerful aura, a confident smile and a dick that is so hard that it could cut diamonds.

When the next track begins playing, you have to smile. You know that song! It's metal, of course, heavy metal. Your fingers begin to drum on the desk as your body changes further. Now, not only does the hair spread further, it also becomes a bit longer, more shaggy. Even more intelligence flees your eyes as they change from the bright blue to a dull brown, but you don't care. You are going with the rhythm of the music, let yourself being carried by it. Every time you hit the wood of your desk, your motions become more precise and more powerful, the bangs louder and exactly on point. Your muscles bulge out, and the smile on your face widens, until you are full-on grinning.

You don't need any books, any lectures, or anything else anymore. The music is the only thing that is important. As you give yourself over to the rhythm, something important changes. No longer is the beat carrying you, you are carrying the beat. Around you, reality changes as the desk and books dissolve, giving way to an expensive drum kit in front of you. Your clothing melts away until you are only wearing a pair of black leather shorts filled to the brim with your erect cock. You know you're in public but you're too dumb, too careless and most of all too manly to care. Let them see your erection bulge! Your powerful arms bring down the drumsticks with force while the rest of your mates play other instruments, and the frontman shouts the song's lyrics into the microphone. Sweat covers your face and your chest, your hair sticks to your forehead as you put every ounce of strength you can muster into producing the loudest beats possible. You can see the crowd going wild through the light of the stage and a feeling of power surges through you, causing your cock to leak a bit of precum into the front of your shorts.

You're no longer a student, and you're no longer a wimp. You are the drum-man of a heavy metal band, and people love you. They adore you, the way your muscles shine with sweat, the way the drums bang out their beat and the way you seem so happy and carefree, as dumb as a brick.

Wow, I think Michael definitely changed for the better here - and all because of a half-forgotten letter. What do you think, does this body suit him better now?

Over at my riot page (just a tip jar!), you can find a few different versions of Michael.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 1

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

A hiss of a rock, thrown. Nikandros came up off his knees, drawing his sword. Damen flung out a hand in a motion for halt, stopping Nikandros instantly, his sword showing a half-foot of Akielon steel.

nik. it's a rock. chill the fuck out.

Damianos, prince-killer. His mind, used to battlefield decisions, took in the sweep of the courtyard, and made the commander’s choice: to minimise losses, to limit bloodshed and chaos, and to secure Ravenel. The Veretian guards were beyond his orders, and the Veretian people . . . if these bitter, furious emotions could be soothed among the Veretian people, he was not the one to soothe them. There was only one way to stop what was about to happen, and that was to contain it; to lock it down, to secure this place once and for all. Damen said to Nikandros, ‘Take the fort.’

i like how the book starts immediately with a very clear example of how the status quo has irreversibly changed. damen has no choice but to act as akielion (akielon? whatever) prince/commander, because that’s how everyone sees him now. even if he hasn’t changed at all from how he’d been five minutes ago

Guymar purposefully spat, and for his trouble was backhanded hard across the face with a mailed fist by the Akielon soldier. Damen let it happen, aware of what would have happened if a man had spat on the ground in front of his father.

i think what i said at the end of book 2 holds true here - damen spent prince’s gambit in the romance genre with interruptions from the war/politics genres, but with laurent’s (presumed accidental) outing of him as prince he’s now forced to live in the same world that laurent’s been in for the past two books. like “yep gotta let my former friend and ally get slapped because politics. man if only laurent had known that i was the prince, we could have avoided this :/“

‘We don’t stand together,’ said Guymar. ‘You betrayed our Prince.’ And then, as though he almost couldn’t bear to say it, ‘You had him—’

in all senses of the phrase, laurent very much had damen

Damen said, ‘I made him a promise.’ ‘And when he learns who you are?’ said Jord. ‘When he learns that he is facing Damianos on the field?’ ‘Then he and I meet each other for the first time,’ said Damen. ‘That was also a promise.’

damen reclaiming his princely authority while being so profoundly wrong… embarrassing

He had a sense of holding on, as though if he just held the fort, held these men together long enough to reach Charcy, then what followed— He couldn’t think about what followed, all he could do was keep to his promise.

he is so devoted to laurent that he doesn’t even stop to think that he’s been screwed over. me too damen, as a first-time reader. and even now, on a second read, i'm not sure how much i trust laurent. i've forgotten the intricacies of his plan and i didn't do a close-reading the first time around, so there are certain things i just can't say for sure at this point.

anyway, i actually think d&l have a ton in common in terms of how they express and demonstrate devotion. they both have bleeding hearts, it’s just that laurent’s has had a much longer time to harden. the way he assesses and handles situations is with a detachment he believes is necessary, so he doesn’t lose control, while damen throws himself wholeheartedly into everything he cares about. they have the same fierceness and passion, and while working together they help to balance out their approaches while applying that passion. starting the book out like this, with damen's devotion on full display and laurent's being majorly questioned, is very smart. because they both need to evolve from this point, in order to be good kings and good partners to each other.

like honestly, they both just need to sit the fuck down and tell the truth and accept that they both care about each other and they don’t have to be avoidant freaks about it. not that either of them (mostly laurent, but also damen in a different way) actually wants to do that. and that’s what the first like 1/3 of the book is about, as i recall: their petty divorce drama until they both give in and decide to figure out their shit.

The ghost of his father seemed to prickle over his skin. It was his father’s title, but his father no longer sat on the throne at Ios. Looking at the bowed head of his friend, Damen realised it for the first time. He was no longer the young prince who had roamed the palace halls with Nikandros after a day spent wrestling together on the sawdust. There was no Prince Damianos. The self that he had been striving to return to was gone.

“with real power comes real responsibility, and i don’t want any of that shit” - dennis reynolds, it’s always sunny in philadelphia

Damen took in Nikandros’s familiar, classically Akielon features, his dark hair and brows, his olive face and straight Akielon nose. As children, they had run barefoot together through the palace. When he’d imagined a return to Akielos, he’d imagined greeting Nikandros, embracing him, heedless of the armour, like digging in his fingers and feeling in his fist the earth of his home.

so they've definitely fucked right

Damen thought of the soldiers bursting into his rooms, of being lashed down in the slave baths, of the dark, muffled journey by ship to Vere. He thought of being confined, his face painted, his body drugged and displayed. He thought of opening his eyes in the Veretian palace, and what had happened to him there. ‘You were right about Kastor,’ Damen said. It was all he said.

nice vs. good theme breakthrough!

He heard of his own body, wrapped and taken in the processional through the acropolis, then interred beside his father.

okay so which dead palace employee/slave got to posthumously cosplay as damen’s corpse

He heard Kastor’s claim that he had been killed by his own guard.

copying the regent's homework

To the Kyros of Delpha, Nikandros, from Laurent, Prince of Vere.

"hey girl,"

The letter was old. The writing was old. Laurent must have sent the letter from Arles.

see my previous breakdown from book 2 chapter 21 about how laurent literally failsafed losing the only living person who loves him with this gambit

It made tactical sense, in a horrifying way, for Laurent to have made an alliance with Nikandros. Laurent had always been capable of a kind of ruthless pragmatism. He was able to put emotion aside and do what he had to do to win, with a perfect and nauseating ability to ignore all human feeling.

i mean i think there was feeling there. making the alliance also was a way for laurent to dispose of damen, returning him to his people so the regent couldn’t use him to torture laurent. because at that point i’m not sure if laurent wanted damen dead, but he definitely wanted him gone. and he’d assumed that damen would want that too

In return for aid from Nikandros, the letter said, Laurent would offer proof that Kastor had colluded with the Regent to kill King Theomedes of Akielos.

okay yeah THAT’S GOOD. and it explains how laurent gets himself in his situation in the next chapter, he’s following up on the promise by trying to get the info from govart/guion

The straightforward ease of it left him without words. He had forgotten what home felt like. He had forgotten trust, loyalty, kinship. Friends.

i’m glad nikandros is a real one. but damen please don’t regress so much that you forget straightforwardness and ease =/= truth and loyalty. oh fuck he can’t hear me

‘Your friend [Nikandros, talking about himself] is a fool and courts treason for a keepsake.’

yeah it makes sense that these two are besties

To gain everything and lose everything in the space of a moment. That is the fate of all princes destined for the throne.

this or a kingdom. guess he’ll kingdom

‘Kastor made me a slave. Laurent freed me. He gave me command of his fort and his troops, an act of trust for an Akielon he had no reason to elevate. He doesn’t know who I am.’

oh honey

‘The Prince of Vere freed you,’ said Nikandros. ‘You have been his slave?’ His voice thickened with the words. ‘You have served the Prince of Vere as a slave?’

this isn’t an hr complaint quite yet but it is a “nikandros takes out his phone and bitches on his private twitter moment” moment. which i think should be a tally as well. nikandros private twitter venting moment #1

He knew what they saw—a hundred images of slaves, submitting, bending at the hip, parting their thighs, the casual ease with which these men would have taken slaves in their own households.

back in book 1, when assessing the state of erasmus in torveld’s possession, i recall that damen assumes that veretians think that “there is no honour in submission.” implying that to damen in book 1, and akielons in general, there IS honor in a slave’s submission. but here, when their prince—a person they respect—is revealed to have been made a slave, they definitely don’t perceive it as an honor. so which one is it? whatever submission damen shows/showed laurent is voluntary and honorable by his own moral code. he hasn’t been groomed or brainwashed into submitting his own free will. get on his level or keep your judgment to yourselves, hypocrites

‘Does it shock you? I was a personal gift to the Prince of Vere.’ He had bared his whole forearm. Nikandros turned to Makedon, his voice harsh. ‘You will not speak of this. You will never speak of this outside this room—’ Damen said, ‘No. It can’t be hidden.’ He said it to Makedon.

i think damen can at least subconsciously see the hypocrisy here. and he’s indignant about it >:)

‘You were the Prince’s slave?’ Revulsion was stamped on Makedon’s face, whitening it. ‘Yes.’

'and tbh i’d drop the past tense i had the blacksmith keep this thing on me'

‘You—’ Makedon’s words echoed the unspoken question in Nikandros’s eyes that no man would ever say aloud to his King. Damen’s flush changed in quality. ‘You dare ask that.’ Makedon said, thickly, ‘You are our King. This is an insult to Akielos that cannot be borne.’

and now damen’s piiiiiisssssssed. i think partially because he knows it was the best night of his life and doesn’t want to be shamed for it, lol

‘You will bear it,’ said Damen, holding Makedon’s gaze, ‘as I have borne it. Or do you think yourself above your King?’ Slave, said the resistance in Makedon’s eyes. Makedon certainly had slaves in his own household, and made use of them. What he imagined between Prince and slave stripped it of all the subtleties of surrender. Having been done to his King, it had in some sense been done to him, and his pride revolted at it.

okay yeah damen’s totally ending the institution of slavery once he's king and the gradual development of changing his mind has been both demonstrated effectively and completely earned throughout the past two books. i think this is why some of the cruelest things in book 1 happen to damen in the first place—they had very little to do with the development of his relationship with laurent, and everything to do with this personal arc for damen’s character. moments like this are the payoff to all of that subtle and consistent work. damen’s wake-up call of being treated like a slave and realizing it’s not what he thought, now transferring to his fellow slave-owners like a moral salve (not a typo for slave. like medicine).

The plan he had developed with Laurent was simple,

ARE YOU SURE

Damen’s men were the bait.

damen sees those red flags and just keeps pushing forward

It struck its front hoof on the cobbles, as though seeking to overturn a stone, arching its neck, perhaps sensing, in the manner of all great beasts, that they were on the cusp of war.

do you think damen and laurent’s horses miss each other

But Jord and Huet. Lazar. Scanning their faces, Damen saw who they were. These were the men of the Prince’s Guard, with whom Damen had travelled for months. And there was only one reason why they had been released from confinement. Damen held up a hand, and Jord was allowed through, so that for a moment their horses circled each other. ‘We’ve come to ride with you,’ said Jord. Damen looked at the small clump of blue now gathered before the rows of red in the courtyard. There weren’t many of them, only twenty, and he saw at once that it was Jord who had convinced them, so that they were here, mounted and ready. ‘Then we ride,’ said Damen. ‘For Akielos, and for Vere.’

<3

The uncertain terrain was a valley of doubt, fringed by trees and dangerous slopes.

“the uncertain terrain was a valley of doubt” great line

Damen would never bring men into this kind of disadvantage without a counter plan.

SSFGHYSUDGFYSUDF

If he just did that, just kept to his promise, then after—

now damen’s the one being controlled by his emotions and desperation. oops!

‘If we do that, and your Veretian doesn’t arrive, we’ll all be killed.’ ‘He’ll be here,’ said Damen.

cringe

Laurent had never planned to come. That was what the scout was screaming, right before an arrow took him in the back. ‘This is your Veretian Prince exposed for what he is,’ said Makedon.

so i know that having akielos show up was laurent’s plan, but i forget if laurent had EVER intended to show up at charcy, or if the plan was always to screw damen over. like laurent tells damen that was the plan, after the fact, or at least doesn’t apologize. because he's a petty bitch and mad at damen for lying and doesn't want to talk about the fact that he got tortured. but i still think that laurent could have intended to be there, just with the twist of damen being exposed, if he hadn’t been held up and injured. after all, the akielos allyship plan has been a thing since vere, but the charcy plan was in response to something laurent 100% did not see coming. laurent couldn't have ended the snowball effect of his own gambit by the time he realized he liked and trusted damen, but he could only have planned charcy after they bonded for almost an entire book. they're two different plans, by two slightly different laurents. not that damen can really see that right now.

i don’t know, i always tend to give laurent more grace than he probably deserves. i WANT him to do better than he sometimes does, because he is a character i'm rooting for, and i know that he cares about being honorable in his own messy imperfect way. (me 🤝 damen).

but even if we're just looking at it without any kind of emotional attachment, it simply isn't characteristic of laurent to leave so many of his own people to die, if he can avoid it. so it would make sense for him to at least try to keep his promise of showing up. but then again, when he’s overwhelmed by emotions he does make uncharacteristically stupid choices. and he is pissed at damen, kind of, although i do think he feels much more endeared to him now than he’d been when he sent nikandros the letter from arles. so he must have meant to be there. but then AGAIN, maybe laurent still somehow assumes that damen was just using him as a fuck, especially since damen didn’t tell the truth even when they started having sex. because laurent is an idiot about feelings, and he doesn’t want to see that damen cares, so he convinces himself that damen deserves to be abandoned on the battlefield.

i don't knowwwwww, my heart says one thing and my literary analysis brain tentatively agrees (laurent meant to be there but couldn't make it), but i hate getting things wrong and laurent is a slippery bitch. and again, this is on a SECOND READ. i just don't remember, for sure, if laurent meant to be at charcy. i don't know if it's even ever said, or just meant to be read between the lines. this may seem negligent or shallow, but listen, the first time i read this book was a binge-read. i read it in a night, right after reading a good chunk of prince's gambit in the afternoon. i was paying a lot less attention to the war/plan stuff and just focusing on the dysfunctional gay people. what i didn't realize, in my haste, is that the war/plan stuff adds an entire new dimension to the gay people's dysfunction. which is why i firmly believe that this is a series that needs to be read twice, at least. these are not romance books, they're a fucking psychological experience. they're like an escape room for your brain that just happens to have horny gay people inside.

Damen had no time to think before the situation was on him.

laurent in book 2: “i can’t think”

There was a dark logic to it. Have your slave convince the Akielons to fight. Let your enemies do your fighting for you, the casualties taken by the people you despise, the Regent defeated or weakened, and the armies of Nikandros wiped out.

and if it was laurent of book 1 or early book 2, that would have made perfect sense. but he made the charcy plan at the end of book 2 come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. it can't be as simple as "laurent fully meant to screw you over," even if he didn't manage to show up as a result of his own plans that nobody else knew about. laurent took two steps forward at the end of book 2, trusting damen enough to emotionally and physically be intimate with him AND making this charcy plan with him. i think it makes sense for him to have taken one step back, in not actually telling damen the full truth about the alliance or laurent's own sidequest that ends up getting him captured and injured, but i just don't think he took TWO entire steps back, by putting damen and his men in a deadly situation with zero intention to help. that's too simple for him, both in an in-universe sense and in a "this is how good storytelling (which pacat can at this point be reasonably trusted to do) works" sense. it has to be something in between, even if damen and laurent assume/claim otherwise.

Damen found himself alongside Jord. ‘If you want to live, ride east.’ White-faced, Jord took one look at his expression and said, ‘He’s not coming.’

jord stays losing

[oneanxiousdreamer]

So, the 10th Anniversary week of FNaF is over. Looking back on this franchise and how special it is to me, remembering how I became a part of the community after the first two games came out and the third one was being teased. It's still crazy to me that 10 years ago, FNaF was a horror game that was created by one man and 10 years later, FNaF is one of the biggest horror franchises in gaming history! I can remember beating the first two games on the Kindle and it was such a surreal moment, but who would have thought that there would be many sequels after the main trilogy (4-UCN), many spin-off games (World, FiS 2, FiS 3, FR), two incredible VR games, an AR game, the biggest Non-VR installment with a phenomenal DLC (SB/Ruin), tons of merchandise, countless fangames, talented people who made the greatest fansongs for the series, pillars of the community in the form of YouTubers (Markiplier, MatPat, Dawko, 8-BitGaming, FuhNaff, RyeToast, etc.), the fans, the loved composers making absolute bangers for the games and the movie(s) (Leon Riskin, Allen Simpson, A Shell In The Pit, The Newton Brothers, etc.), the many iconic characters not only created by Scott Cawthon himself, but by bigger organisations of people who made it their mission to carry on the legacy of Scott (Steel Wool Studios, Illumix, Mega Cat Studios, etc.) but also by the fans who work tirelessly to figure out the lore of the series and give characters their own style of personality, bringing life to those who seemed to have none, the insane amount of theories and headcanons within the puzzled minds of theorists and fans alike, the crazy amount of books that still wrack our brains to this day (FF, TFtP, SE trilogy, etc.), the nostalgic easter eggs hidden throughout every installment that inspired others to create their very own hoaxes to fool the community, and most importantly the massive success of the games was unexpectedly recognised when Scott was losing hope in his career when his previous game (Chipper & Sons Lumber Co.) didn't have the same effect on people that FNaF eventually would and therefore, led to the production and overwhelming success of the groundbreaking first ever FNaF movie! Seeing it in the cinema on the big screen was an incredible experience that I will never forget. It still amazes me that I went from a small Kindle screen, to an Xbox/TV screen, to a cinema screen and just thinking about the depth of it all made me emotional because I've never stopped loving and caring about this franchise. The impact of it's very existence is still unrivalled, many have tried to recreate the feel and atmosphere of the mascot horror genre that FNaF created with their own games (Poppy Playtime, Garten Of Banban, Tattletail, Bendy and the Ink Machine, etc.) Some succeeded and even became their own stand-alone franchises, of course FNaF didn't completely create the mascot horror genre, it not only reignited it but made it grow in popularity, hence the creation of many beloved fangames of the series. This is such an exciting time for the FNaF community, and I could say much more about the entirety of FNaF, but there's just simply too much of the surface to scratch. Here's to the eventful 10 years of Five Nights at Freddy's!

🎉🎂

(Below are my Mini / Plush versions of Sun and Moon. They may not be the best, but I'm still quite happy with how they turned out.)

[rimurutempest]

Hello.....If you don't mind me asking, can I ask, what are your top 7 favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series/etc) and your top 10 favorite (fictional) characters from any media? Why do you love them all? Sorry if you've answered this questions before......

Interesting specific.......

7 media huh?

SLC Punk - live action movie from the 90s about Punks in Salt Lake City during the 80s. As a trans person that grew up in Arizona in a region populated by a ton of Mormons I sorta related to it kinda and nowadays I feel like it's actually a really funny, really scary, and really beautiful movie that gets overlooked a lot.

The Shining by Stephen King (book) - it's not my favorite horror novel and it's not my favorite Stephen King novel, but it was the book that got me to enjoy horror. The story is so scary and good, the characters are fleshed out, and there's a whole underlying dialogue about abuse and alcoholism that's very scary. Which is part of why I don't like the movie, cuz the movie adaption (erases the usefulness of the titular "Shining") sorta erases the personal story about alcoholism and abuse. And, it's definitely there still, it focuses more of its efforts on just being a spooky haunted hotel, it's style over substance to me. The connection of the personal and horror made me sort of see the true story telling value of the genre, and now I'm like. In love with horror.

Inside Mari by Shuzo Oshimi (manga) - the best way to explain this is, what if Freaky Friday were more of a psychological horror. Reading Inside Mari has been a very important thing to me as an adult, I sorta see myself in it and there's so much trans emotions in this (there's a whole thing that Oshimi is probably trans), this work is so dear to me I refuse to read to watch other people's take or interpretations, which sounds bad but I just want my special thing that I interpret my way to be interpreted my own way. It's amazing and I love it. All of Oshimi's work has hit me in a personal place.

Wandering Son by Takako Shimura (manga) - one of the first portrayals of a trans person I saw in manga, and honestly still one of the best. There's a lot of criticisms we could give it, but I love it and I related to it so much. It was nice to see a story follow such a young trans girl (and boy) and see them grow. Probably part of why I decided to finally identify as trans.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica the Movie Part 3: Rebellion (anime movie) - this one is largely just emotional stuff that's coincidental. The original Madoka tv show (and thus first two movies) were great but I never thought it was perfect, but Rebellion emotionally murdered me and as everything else mentioned, it felt so relatable. Came out in a very important time frame for bonding when my husband, so I got to see it in theaters with him (twice technically, we went a second time with a friend) plus I got to see it with another friend (three times total) hehe. It's just like, a very big date for my husband and I, I remember it perfectly down to what I had for dinner (my first bowl of professional made ramen lmao). The movie just, really hit, and the circumstances around seeing it were just really important to me.

Lateralus by Tool (album) - I'm sure some people are gonna be like "whaaaa how edgy loser" or whatever about this. But Lateralus was an important album for me cuz it introduced me to larger intellectual concepts I'd never considered before, made me really fall in love with that brand of music, and was one of those things I would put on repeat when I felt very depressed (read: dysphoric). I know the members have sorta grown into shitty people (namely Maynard) but this album is just very important to me.

I'm just going to say The Green Knight (movie), there's a lot I want to put here, especially a lot about Arthurian literature, but I think the best way to just, placeholder all the Arthurian shit I'm obsessed with. The Green Knight is a fantastic adaptation that's incredibly beautiful and well acted. Love it.

tbh w/ you I don't wanna do characters rn so if you swing back by later I might.

[milfmorrowind]

Catch Me When I Fall (Epilogue)

whoops! I wrote another chapter to this. turns out I had more thoughts. anyway, enjoy!

chapter word count: 4,249

fic word count: 12,658

link to full work on ao3 | parts one two three

When Mailie trudged her way back into the Flagon, Delvin and Vex were waiting for her. Delvin beckoned her over with a wave when he saw her enter and she came without comment, too tired to voice a response.

"You were in there for a while," Vex remarked as Mailie approached.

"Telling him off took longer than I expected," she responded, leaning against the fence surrounding the pool. Mere months ago she would not have trusted it with the weight of a tankard, but one of the first renovations she'd had performed was replacing the existing fence with a newer, taller, and stronger one. She didn't need anyone falling in and catching a cold-- there were children around, for gods' sake.

"I hope you told him what an idiot he is," Vex said as she crossed her arms. "And to never go running off like that again."

Mailie had to smile at that. "I did-- or in so many words, anyway." She suppressed a yawn. "How were things while I was gone?" She didn't really want to ask for fear of an answer that might keep her awake even longer, but she knew she had to.

Delvin set his notebook down onto the table next to him. "We got on well enough. Rune picked up a few interesting items that should fetch us a pretty penny, provided we can find the right buyer. I've got Ton working on connections as we speak. Cynric thinks he's got a lead on a big score, though he's been stingy on the details."

"Meaning he doesn't have them," Vex interjected.

Delvin snorted. "Right you are. We'll see if he actually comes through. Beyond that, business as usual. I'll spare you the details. You can check the ledgers yourself if you want them." Mailie nodded gratefully, knowing she would probably be doing just that. Later.

"Thanks, Del. I need one of you to talk to Herluin and find out what we owe him for supplies. Preferably before he has a chance to think too hard about it."

"On it." Before Mailie even finished speaking, Vex was marching off towards the apothecary's shop. Delvin watched her with an amused expression.

"I don't envy him if he tries to pull one over on her," he muttered.

Mailie snorted. "Me neither. Though a part of me would love to see him try." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Gods, she was tired.

Delvin raised an eyebrow at her. "Take a seat," he said, pulling out a chair. She all but collapsed into it. He sat down across from and gave her an appraising look. "If you don't mind my saying, boss, you look like you'd lose a wrestling match with a skeever at present. What are you up to next?"

Mailie sighed. Sometimes she was glad that Delvin could read her like book, and other times she hated it. She wasn't sure which it was at the moment. "I don't know. Food, bath, sleep. Haven't decided on the order yet."

"I can help with one of those." Delvin stood and disappeared to the bar for a moment before returning with a bowl of soup, which he placed in front of Mailie. "Eat that, and get some rest. You've earned it."

She managed to let out some appreciative noises before setting upon the soup. It was Vekel's usual, meaning it wasn't anything special, but it was by far the best thing she'd eaten in days. Delvin let her be while she continued eating. When she finished, she stood and left the Flagon, too tired to care that she'd left her dishes on the table. Vekel could hardly complain; he had her to thank for his booming business.

She returned to her bedroom. She slowly pushed open the door to avoid making any noise that might wake Brynjolf. Thankfully, he appeared to be fast asleep.

Mailie shut the door behind her and crept to the other side of the room. Carefully, she removed her borrowed armor and set it atop her dresser. She then undid her braids and combed the tangles out of her hair, wincing at the snags on her scalp. She'd need to properly wash the sweat out of it at some point, but it could wait. Finally, she blew out the candle on her nightstand and crawled into bed.

Brynjolf stirred. "Lass?" he said groggily into the darkness.

Mailie lay down next to him. "Right here," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his chest.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, humming appreciatively. "S'good to have you here."

She smiled, and draped herself over him. "It's good to be here."

***

The Winking Skeever was alive with activity, but Mailie partook in none of it.

She stayed at her corner table with her cup of mead, overlooking the lively scene on the inn's main floor. It seemed as if every working person in Solitude had elected to spend their gold here tonight, filling the air with shouted conversations and raucous laughter. Which suited Mailie's purposes just fine.

The sound of footsteps came up the stairs. Mailie kept her eyes trained on the bar below her as the argonian crossed the balcony and sat in the other chair.

Gulum-Ei carried his own drink, which he set down on the table. Mailie drained the last of her mead.

"I assume there's a reason for all this secrecy," he murmured.

"Apologies." Mailie put her tankard down. "I wouldn't normally go to these lengths, but I have extenuating circumstances to contend with."

"As long as it keeps me out of the dungeons, I don't mind." Gulum-Ei took a sip of his drink. "What do you have for me, then? I assume it's something good."

"The opposite, actually." Mailie crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. "I'm looking for something."

"Oh?" Gulum-Ei seemed intrigued. "We get plenty of unusual items passing through Solitude. I'm sure I can help you. What are you looking for?"

Mailie shifted. "Information."

The smuggler rapped his fingers against the table. "On what?"

Mailie leaned over to meet his gaze. "Three weeks ago, the Legion arrested a man breaking into a house near Castle Dour. A Nord, red hair, leather armor. He was badly injured and needed help changing out of his armor before they put him in the cell. I need the name of the guard who helped him."

Gulum-Ei stood. "Wait here."

Mailie emerged from the tavern the next morning. Instead of any of her usual armor, she'd donned a Nordic dress. Whether or not it would make her less conspicuous remained to be seen. She walked down the streets of Solitude, missing the familiar weight of Dawnbreaker on her hip. She was not without substantial protection-- there was a dagger on her waist and in her boot, she had her magic, and these streets were rather safe, besides, but she felt naked without it nonetheless. It had killed her to leave the sword behind in her room at the inn, but she knew it would draw far too much attention.

She spotted her quarry. Gulum-Ei's information had been sound, as usual. The guard was standing near the Hall of the Dead, squinting in the early morning sun. He was younger than Mailie had expected-- she normally wouldn't have been able to tell, but his helm was visorless. Probably a more comfortable option in most circumstances, but on this particular day he was probably wishing for a closed helm, if for no other reason than to block out some of the sun.

Mailie walked over to him. He didn't seem to notice her approach as he stared blankly across the street.

"Good morning, sir."

The man nearly jumped. Clearly, passers by did not often stop to talk to him. "Ah-- Morning, ma'am," he sputtered out. He looked around him, as if expecting to see some kind of emergent situation occurring behind her. "Can I... help you with something, ma'am?"

Mailie folded her hands in front of her. "I do hope so," she said. "I believe I find myself in a situation in which--" She glanced over her shoulder, then stepped forward and lowered her voice. "Might I speak to you in private, sir? It's a rather delicate situation."

The guard blinked. "Certainly," he said in an uncertain voice. "I, er-- Let me take you to the fort, ma'am."

They walked up the streets to Castle Dour. In the courtyard, a few guards milled about, practicing with bows, swords, and axes. The guard led Mailie past them and through the door to the castle's interior. Once inside, he turned and led her down the stairs to the barracks. A few people looked at them curiously as they passed, but none seemed to pay them much mind. Finally, the guard opened a door to a small side room, and Mailie followed him inside.

He shut the door behind them. The room was windowless, though a pair of candles provided enough light to see. "I don't believe I caught your name, ma'am," the man said as he removed his helmet.

"Amelie." Technically not a lie.

"A pleasure to meet you then, Amelie. The name's Erik." He gestured to a table behind him. "Please, have a seat."

Mailie shook her head. "No, thank you." Refusing him was a gamble, she knew, but she didn't want anything between her and the door.

He looked at her curiously, but did not press the issue. "Suit yourself." He put his helmet down on the table. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

Mailie placed her hands over her belt, fiddling with the fastening. "I don't know if you'll have heard, but... a few weeks past, a man was arrested near Castle Dour. I don't know if he'll have given his name, but it's Brynjolf. My understanding is that he was hurt quite badly and needed some assistance-- perhaps you heard some of this from the guard who helped him?"

Erik's jaw moved silently for a moment as he stared at her. "I did hear of it, ma'am. Well, in a manner of speaking. I was the one who helped him."

"Oh!" Mailie feigned surprise. "I suppose I can cut to the meat of it, then. I know it's a lot to ask, but is there any chance that I could see him?"

Erik's whole body seemed to tighten. "I'm afraid that's not possible, ma'am."

Mailie looked down. "Of course. I understand. Security is very important, especially with the war on. I'm sorry to ask this of you, but would you take a message to him, at least? I would not ask under normal circumstances, but..." She pressed her hands to her stomach and let her cheeks redden. "As I said, it's a rather delicate situation."

"I--" Mailie thought that Erik's face might be redder than her own. "I'm afraid I can't do that either, ma'am, though not for the reason you might think. Brynjolf disappeared from the dungeons not long after he was captured."

"I see." Mailie put on her most crestfallen expression. "Thank you for your help, sir. You have been most kind." She dropped her hands and turned to leave.

"Wait." She turned back around. Erik looked positively terrified. She wondered if he'd even meant to speak.

"Yes?" she said hopefully.

Erik looked to be at a loss for words. She was close. She stepped forward so that she was barely a foot away from his face.

"Sir-- Erik, if I may-- I don't mean to press you, but I find myself in a very difficult situation. I will likely never see that man again. If there is something you wish to tell me--" She placed a hand over her chest. Below it, her heart beat a steady rhythm, but more importantly, the Amulet of Articulation pressed against her palm. "I would very much like to know it."

The guard looked down at her. Mailie could almost see the turmoil in his head. Finally, he reached inside his uniform and pulled out a small object, wrapped in cloth. Without a word, he pressed it into Mailie's hand.

"You should go," he murmured.

Mailie stepped back and nodded. "That I will. Thank you, sir."

***

The walls of the Ratway were, predictably, wet. For once though, Mailie did not particularly mind. She walked briskly down the winding halls, barely even noticing the weight of her pack. When she finally reached the office door, she entered without knocking.

Brynjolf sat behind the desk. He looked up at the sound of the door with the most disgruntled expression Mailie had ever seen him wear.

"Welcome back," he said sullenly. The desk before him was littered with papers, books, and a sprinkling of coins, but was dominated by a heavy leather-bound ledger.

Mailie walked around to his side of the desk. She slipped her pack off her shoulders and dropped it onto the floor, then shoved a few items to the side and closed the ledger so she could perch on the edge of the desk. "Has Delvin seen what you've done to his books?"

Brynjolf crossed his arms. His leg, still splinted, was propped up on a short stool. A pair of crutches leaned against the wall behind him. "As a matter of fact, he has."

"And he let you live? Clearly you're more charming than I thought."

"I'm charming enough. At least for you, it seems."

Mailie smiled and dropped off the desk. Brynjolf tilted his head up into her hands as she leaned down and kissed him. His hands went to her waist and pulled her in close.

"Hm." Mailie tucked his hair behind his ear after retreating from the kiss. "For future reference, I greatly prefer this to the welcome you gave me."

Brynjolf's thumbs rubbed circles into her sides. "I don't know if you've noticed, lass, but I'm a tad limited in my movements." He shifted his splinted leg. "Sorry to disappoint."

Mailie rolled her eyes, but sat down on top of his leg-- the good one. Brynjolf wrapped his right arm around her waist to hold her steady.

"How were things while I was out?" she asked, still playing with his hair.

"Fine." He shifted forward a bit so he could lean back, giving Mailie more room. "Nothing of note, really."

Mailie finished with his hair. "Does whatever broke Vipir's nose count as 'nothing of note' to you, then?"

"If by that you mean his own stupidity, then yes. He managed to lift an entire book out of a mage's pockets without rousing a bit of suspicion, then tripped on his own feet two streets away. You should have seen him when he got back. Thrynn nearly fell in the water, he was laughing so hard."

Mailie winced. Vipir's nose would be fine, but she was a bit concerned about what might be in that book-- and even more so with who he may have taken it from. She resolved to ask him for details later.

"I'll take your word for it." She cupped his face in her hand and stroked her thumb gently back and forth across his cheek. Brynjolf was never especially attentive in maintaining his beard, but he'd let his whiskers grow even longer than usual in the week or so that Mailie had been gone.

"After all this time, you finally take me at my word." He tilted his head to the side to let her fuss over his cheek. "And what adventures did you find yourself on this time, lass?"

"Running back and forth across the whole damn province, mostly," Mailie grumbled. "I've cleared Herluin's bounties in Whiterun and Winterhold, but Ulfric's steward is proving difficult. I might actually have to prove his innocence to get it taken care of."

Brynjolf looked at her skeptically. "You sure he is innocent, lass? I'm not saying I don't trust him, but I wouldn't leave him alone with my porridge, if you catch my meaning."

Mailie shrugged. "Innocent may be something of a stretch, but I know he didn't kill the man in question. Directly, at least. I'll speak with him about it later. Hopefully he can provide some helpful information, or at minimum a convincing lie." She leaned in until her face was finger's breadth away from Brynjolf's. "But that's a task for another time. For now, I have more pressing concerns."

When she brought their lips together into a kiss, Brynjolf's arm tightened around her waist. She let him pull her in against his chest as she continued to run her fingers over his scraggly beard. His hand rested comfortably on her knee, stabilizing her as she balanced atop his leg.

They came apart for just a moment. Brynjolf's fingers dug into Mailie's side, but she barely even felt them.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips.

Mailie smiled. "I missed you too," she whispered back, tilting her head in for another kiss.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Mailie jumped off Brynjolf's lap with a barely concealed yelp of surprise and brushed herself off. "Come in!" she called, hoping whoever was outside didn't think anything was amiss.

Vex strolled into the room with her usual composure. "Oh good. You're both here," she remarked. "Get to the Flagon when you can. Cynric came through on that score he was going on about, and I want to show you the details." She looked them over and raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know why you're both looking at me like that?"

Mailie shook her head and prayed fervently that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Don't worry about it. We'll be along in a bit, I want to finish looking over the books."

Vex shrugged. "Suit yourself. Enjoy your numbers." She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Mailie turned around to see Brynjolf looking at her with an amused expression. "It's not funny," she insisted, but his grin only grew wider at her indignation. "Brynjolf!"

He chuckled, which did nothing to calm her. "You have to admit, lass, it is a bit amusing. You're redder than a tomato."

She leaned back against the desk with a scowl. "You're insufferable."

He winked. "You love me for it."

She did, but she wasn't sure she could say so at the moment without it coming out as a smart remark, so she kept quiet. Her fingers drummed along the edge of the desk. "Bryn, can I ask you something?"

Brynjolf leaned back and rested his elbow on the back of the chair. "I serve at your pleasure, Princess."

Mailie didn't have it in her to roll her eyes. She looked down at the floor, suddenly doubting herself. Brynjolf seemed to notice her consternation and straightened a bit.

"What's on your mind, lass?"

She took a deep breath. "When did you know?"

"That I loved you?" he asked quietly. She nodded, not trusting that anything she tried to say would leave her mouth willingly.

Brynjolf paused to think. "I've two answers," he said after some consideration. "When you and Mercer went missing... I suppose that's when it started. I knew you could both take care of yourselves, but couldn't for the life of me work out why he wanted you to settle the score with Karliah. If I'm honest, I spent the whole time I was searching for you steeling myself to tell him off for it." He snorted. "In a way, I did, eventually. But to answer the question of when I knew for sure... I suppose it's when we made you guildmaster." His jaw was tight, and Mailie though she saw him grind his teeth. "It-- something changed in you that day, lass. When I put that amulet around your neck, all I could think of was how far you'd come, and how proud I was." His voice broke off a little at the end and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "What about you?"

Mailie knew she couldn't very well skirt the question after that. "I-- I don't think I realized until I heard you'd been arrested. I didn't think much about it, I just had to find you. You knew that, though." Her cheeks were burning redder than ever. "As for when it all began... it was Karliah. I didn't think anyone would believe her, Bryn, but you did. I--" Her words were failing her. She nudged at his leg with her foot. "You're a good man, Brynjolf. Better than you know."

He looked away. They were terrible at this. Mailie bit her lip. There were a hundred things she could say, but not one of them felt right, and every one was harder to say than the last.

"We should go see Vex," Brynjolf said finally. He moved as if to grab his crutches.

Mailie scrambled off the desk. "Wait." She'd forgotten half the reason she came in here in the first place. She rifled quickly through her pack and retrieved a small cloth bundle. "Here, I have something for you," she said, and handed to Brynjolf.

He looked at her curiously. "What is it, consolation for my leg?" He began to unwrap the bundle. "I'll admit you've surprised me, but it's not much substitute--" He froze.

Mailie watched with bated breath as he unfolded the cloth. Her hands were on the verge of trembling, so she clasped them in her lap. The cloth fell to the floor, ignored as Brynjolf laid his father's amulet across his palm.

Mailie drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry to spring this on you. I meant to tell you when I came in, but--"

She was cut off by Brynjolf launching himself at her. She caught him as he fell forward against her and would have toppled over if it weren't for the desk behind her. She would have scolded him for being so careless of his leg, but he pulled her into a kiss before she got the chance.

His hands cradled her head gently as he placed kiss after kiss on her lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, and every other inch of her face he could reach. The amulet's cord was looped around one of his fingers and bumped against her back with every movement, but Mailie barely even noticed. For once in her life, she let someone else shower their affections over her without hesitation. Her hands were braced against his shoulders with just enough strength to keep him balanced on his good leg, but she otherwise let his lips wander over her face.

It took him a while, but Brynjolf eventually remembered that Mailie needed to breath. He ceased his attentions and leaned his head back enough to look her in the eyes. "How?" he whispered in a voice full of wonder.

She placed one of her hands over his heart. It beat like a drum inside his chest. "Gulum-Ei found me the name of the guard who helped you out of your armor," she said. "And told me his schedule. I found him and convinced him to give me the amulet."

Brynjolf shook his head in disbelief. "I was certain he'd have gotten rid of it as soon as he could. It's not worth much, so he couldn't have sold it, especially not in Solitude. I've been imagining it at the bottom of the ocean more often than I'd care to admit."

"You'd be surprised what people are willing to buy," Mailie muttered. As if he didn't know that.

Brynjolf shook his head again. "What did you even say to convince him to hand it over?"

"I told him I was carrying your child."

Brynjolf choked. "That was your solution?" he sputtered.

"It worked," Mailie said with a shrug. "And I more implied it, anyway."

Brynjolf eyed her with a trepidacious look. "Just so we're clear, lass, you're not--?"

Mailie rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, Bryn. Do you really think that's how I'd tell you?"

He shuddered. "Forgive me for choosing to not give it too much thought."

Mailie chuckled. The hand holding Brynjolf's amulet had gone from her cheek to the table beside her to support his weight. Almost instinctively, Mailie rested her own hand on top of it. He lifted it from the table and laced their fingers together, then brought their hands to his lips and kissed the backs of Mailie's knuckles.

Mailie let her fingers slip out of his. They tangled in the amulet's cord as she lifted it from Brynjolf's hand and slipped it over his head. The amulet thumped against his chest, and she took his face in her hands and brought him into a soft kiss.

"Thank you," he whispered, resting their foreheads together.

Mailie kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Don't mention it."

Brynjolf's hands settled on her waist as he nuzzled along her jaw. "How long do you think we can keep Vex waiting before she sends someone after us?"

Mailie snorted. "I think she's far more likely to proceed without us." She stroked Brynjolf's cheek with her thumb. "We should go to her. I'd like to see if this score is as good as Cynric seems to think it is."

"Very well." Brynjolf leaned back. "Shall we pick this up later, then?"

Mailie rolled her eyes. "Not sure I have much choice in the matter, seeing as you've been sleeping in my bed." She dropped off the desk and handed him his crutches. "You need to shave, by the way."

[kasplonkable]

Foxma HC's

I love these bitches so much. I've finished Gotham now and lemme just say... You know that scene (spoilers for season 5 from here I guess lmao) when Ed breaks into the GCPD and is going through the files, and Lucius catches him and pushes him back with a hand on his chest?? Yeah, I've been thinking about that scene a lot. This list breaks from canon a little bit (as in, it exists in a world where they would realistically date), but oh well. Enjoy :-)

I reckon they're one of those couples where people don't even realise they're dating until something obviously lovey-dovey happens

like, they'll be at a dinner party or something and one of them maybe gets a little too drunk and kisses the other, and everyone else is like "lol that's embarrassing, Lucius and Ed just kissed" and they're like "???yeah??? We've been dating for 3 years now???"

Like, between all the hand holding, and the sharing food and clothes, everyone just thought they were really friendly with each other (but in hindsight they probably should have guessed)

they have nights where they challenge each other at board games all night. Like, they'll cycle through about 15 games in one night, and have an ongoing tally of wins pinned up on the fridge

on their anniversary, they'll buy each other a new game to add to the tournament

predictably, if they ever watch a game show on TV, they'll race to answer the question first (but every now and then, Lucius lets Ed win just to see how excited he gets about it (Ed knows this of course, but he doesn't mind so much when Lucius looks at him like that))

because they're interested in the same sort of subjects, info dumping is always a fun time for both of them (even if it's unrelated, it's still fun)

while Ed's hanging up the washing, he'll listen to Lucius rant about the intricacies and beauty of biomechanics

and then while Lucius is cooking, he'll listen to Ed rant about epigenetics

This happens a lot though, with pretty much anything...

"so they've basically got a ton of chromosomes!! And there's this one fern that has the world record for having the most!! It's called the adder's tongue fern, or Ophioglossum reticulatum, and it has up to 1,440 chromosomes!!! That's way too many!!" "And what was this called again??" "Polyploidy!! Wait, I haven't even started on Oxytricha trifallax yet!! So basically-" *heart eyes*

Ed always forgets to carry his ear defenders around, so Lucius makes sure he has a spare pair in his bag just in case Ed needs them

Lucius likes to tinker with things when he's bored

one time, Ed came home to find him surrounded by a mixture of cogs and screws only to find that he'd taken apart their toaster

"it stopped working..."

"oh, okay!! Can you fix it?"

"Yeah! It was a fairly common problem, all I needed to do was- what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

*absolute heart eyes* "I just love you is all"

there are so many books and papers around their house that it could be mistaken for a library

well, it's like that right up until the moment Ed gets overstimulated by it all, and then Lucius helps him clean it until everywhere is spotless again (this usually happens late at night, leading to the two of them cleaning until 2 AM and they can finally both sleep)

their whole house is a mixture of dark wood and warm colours. It's really lovely when one comes back and can smell a home cooked meal wafting through the corridors. That's when it especially feels like home

They have a coat hanger by the door that is always overflowing with jackets. When it finally fell over, they both had to reevaluate how many coats they actually needed

one time Ed learn how to quilt so he gave Lucius a massive quilted blanket for his birthday. It was big enough to cover their bed and checked with reds and yellows and the occasional dark green. He loved it so much that it became a permanent fixture in their room

in the winter months, when their small flat can't keep out the Gotham cold, they'll bundle under the blankets and hold onto eachother until they fall asleep

there's not really a strict big spoon or little spoon, just two people clinging to eachother in a tangle of limbs

Lucius has one of those alarms where you have to solve a maths equation before it turns off. Normally Ed would love it, but not at 5 AM...

"nghh can you just turn it off already"

"give me a second, this one's a bit challenging... actually, I'm just going to grab some paper quickly-"

"can you at least taKE THE ALARM WITH YOU?!" Ed groans as he rolls over and tries to hide from the noise in his pillow

Lucius likes to go on runs early in the morning. He enjoys the fresh air and lack of people. That and the fact that Ed is only just waking up when he gets back, sleepily kissing him and handing him a warm cup of coffee with the promise of breakfast soon after

That being said, sometimes he'll go to get up for his run only to find Ed curled into his side. It's those mornings when he decides to snooze his alarm and spend another hour or so dozing next to the love of his life

they go on cute dates to their local museum, sometimes checking out the occasional lecture happening there

They enjoy comparing notes afterwards to see what parts each of them found most interesting

But sometimes if the lecture is boring (and it's rare for either of them to find a lecture boring) they'll forgo the academic notes, and instead send messages back and fourth across the desk

Ed always expects Lucius to throw the notes away afterwards, but he keeps them at the back of his notebook

This lecture is kind of boring. He's just ranting about Crayfish?

Yes, it is slightly strange. I think I heard him say something about invasive species, but honestly I drifted off about 10 minutes ago

Do you want to grab a Chinese after this?

Yeah sure! The usual place?

Obviously

...

Love you

I love you too

[autumnwyvern]

idk why but I'm gonna soapbox for a moment. its MY blog and I get to decide when I post a rambly rant!

People need to get it absorbed into their minds that a translation error and a deliberate localization change are not the same thing. A translation error is when two similar sounding/looking words get mixed up, or (in the case of JP-ENG which is what I'm about to really get into here) really inconsistent romanizations for proper nouns, or characters getting misgendered/having the wrong pronouns. There are tons of things. Read Legends of Localization. Read anything with the title of "This Be Bad Translation" because they are extremely funny, and then read the more informative articles. Buy the books even. For even further FURTHER reading Capcom has a really good track record with their localizers just talking about their games and the decisions they made in articles/blog posts. Actually let me reference one now to make a point:

Maya Fey in the original script loves a big hearty bowl of ramen. Adores it. And girl... I understand. However if you've played the english Ace Attorney games you may recall in those she really loves a big juicy burger. Is this a mistranslation? Did the localizers somehow goof up and say burger instead of ramen? No. The global release of the first game came out in 2005 and at that point in time most Americans who knew was a real bowl of ramen was were either Japanese-American, been to Japan, or a huge stinkin anime nerd. Everyone else if you told them to imagine ramen they'd picture a cup noodle. So if you want to go for mass appeal you think to yourself. Okay. What would be the American equivalent in this situation. A hearty cultural food that one may want to get to celebrate a job well done. And they landed on burgers. It was a deliberate, thought-through choice. And while you, personally, may feel that it was a mistake. It fundamentally isnt. There is no 100% right way to localize something. Theres a lot of factors to consider! And sometimes a change in how these factors are approached leads to my next point.

A character having slightly different mannerisms or way of speech between games is also, not inherently a mistranslation. If you are my age consider for a moment the anime localizations of our youth. Digimon Adventure. Early seasons of Pokemon. Sailor Moon. They were really allowed to go "off-script" and ham it up and make a bunch of jokes that weren't in the original, but I look back on them fondly and I know others do too! Being more loose and going for the overall vibes and doing so in a way that (hopefully) appeals to your audience is a perfectly fine way to do things. But now anime (and manga) localization has changed a lot. There is a lot more emphasis on "accuracy" and having a "true" translation. Which like isn't a thing that exists. In fact, often times being too 1:1 literal makes a localization worse and clunky and weird. But the point is in more modern "accurate" translations those characters often act a little differently. Neither of those versions are wrong its just a different approach. But it is in Splatoon where I think you can really see it in stark contrast, because in the first game the North American localization were allowed to freestyle it a bit more. In general they gave characters more bombastic personalities and weird little quirks that like werent in the european english version at All. So Splatoon becomes a hit, it is like The Game that ppl are buying a Wii U for, so the sequels roll around and the leash gets tightened a bit. You will sometimes see people say things like the translations got Better or crack jokes about how nintendo must have fired the old guys or whatever. But what happened is. They are going for brand consistency. Now all the English scripts are mostly the same (sorry not sorry for infecting the european english version with briish Spyke). Which is to say they are trying to avoid different versions from having really different interpretations of characters but they are still in some ways allowed to put their own little spin on things. Which brings me to the actual. true reason for all this meandering.

No. Craig saying "I don't see species" is not a mistranslation. Its a localization choice. Here we have a situation where we are trying to convey an older man who isnt Hip with it anymore but kind off thinks he is. Just a real out of touch guy. He means well but still has some internalized prejudices. Americans are really familiar with people saying "I don't see race." Like. He is A Grandpa. That is an extremely grandpa thing to say when someone challenges them on if they are going to be chill that there is someone of a different race over for dinner. It's fine. If you had a strong reaction to him saying that thats good, even. Like idk I wasn't in the room when they made that specific choice but I imagine they wanted to licit that "oogh uh oh no you cant say that grandpa yiikes 😬" reaction. Like idk I think that was their intent and it worked. And thats why we are still talking about it years later. (also, as more of an aside. I don't think him being Nicer to marina/eight in the JP script means he isn't still kinda racist towards octolings? Like the first thing he does in splatoon 3's story mode is announce the octarians are back and Totally behind whats going on and need to be stopped. He says this even if you are an octoling. dude got divorced so hard he became racist, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. Marie is also kind of racist too. Sorry! that doesn't make them Bad Characters and that you are Bad for enjoying them btw. It just means they have character flaws. which is good and normal and cool.)

[martinys-world]

The Girl (2)

so chapter 2 is out. please let me know what you think in comments. the drawing took the longest. also because the movie is new at the time of typing this. I was stuggling with doing all of this by mermory --love you all

“SLIVER! Wake up dog.”

I launch forward. Breathing heavily. Feeling my surroundings soft floor. Car windows in front of me. I am on earth I am in reeks car, in the Back seat. 

“You look like you were going to mess someone up.” 

Now I am differently on earth.

“Hey reek.” 

I slowly climbed out of the backseat of his car. There was no way I was going back to sleep any time soon. 

“Are you fighting that monster again.” 

“Yea something like that.”

Monster was the excuse I used to when I toss and turn. No one ask anything more. I  pulled out my two bags. They were basically my lifelines. A mini purse backpack I put around my waist. While the black and green on was on my back. I got to do a lot today.

“Thanks for letting me crash in the back seat.”

I was shaking my head getting the bed rest hair gone. 

“No problem. You help me more than I can ask for it’s the least I can do.”

“Either way thanks and call me if you need me.”

“Hey before you run off will you be okay.  I have seen you toss and turn in your sleep and beating up those “monsters” before, But not like this.”

“I mean it one of those dreams where it seems like a memory but it’s not.”

“what’s the memory?”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t being clear.”

My watch began beeping. 

“I’m going to be late. I got to go.”

“Hey, be careful and No more disappearing without a word.”

“I’ll try, can’t promise.”

Someone holding a bag of apples when one apple began falling to the ground. I put my knee out and let it bounce back. In the bag. Putting the ear buds in my ear so I can dim the world around me. I pulled random granola bar out my purse. I need something in my stomach, Or I will be the monster in real life. This will have to do. Substation was my fast possible route to get to where I am needed.  The subway gets me a moment to write in my journal. I always wrote in something, ever since I little I would wright anything that was worth remembering. That not the first time I dream about something like that. but this is the first time interacting with the environment. 

These dreams play out like a movie. I was always on the side just watching everything unfold. like people do in a theater. most of the dreams that I do remember are fragments. I had one were two lover’s kisses. I had one where a farther is knocking down his daughter. There are too many that I remember. my mine can't remember the last time a thing like this happens. This is diffidently first time some being has died. 

Why did he say midnight. Who midnight I am sliver and no one else. After sitting in a spot that was safe as you could be. I open my big bag and pull out a notebook the said ‘I need space’ and it had a galaxy in space background. It a sketch book but I write and draw in it. a ton of people have called it many names. Reek called it a journal before. I had many people call it my dairy. Buster jokingly said before it my evil planner. Yea right buster. I can't hurt a fly even If I wanted to. In a way It’s a journal of me. my life, people I meet, my dreams. I hope this journal shows that I was not perfect. I am human just like everyone else. 

After going to a blank page. I was sketching the whole dream; the face of the ape was first thing that came to mind.  The sequence was mushy, but I did my best on all the important parts. 

Above the guy that won the battle.  I wrote scrouge in big sharp letter. Underneath him. I wrote bad guy with a question mark.  Because to everyone can be a bad guy to a family like scourge could be bad to just this ape and his family. Then have no fire with me. I have a feeling that not the case. it a possibility can't full rule out the. ‘Proven until guilty’ what the cops say.  Above the ape I wrote Apeling. Leader of the maximal.

Why did I write that and why did that feel right. Who are the maximal? Confusion filled my brain with how I know any of this. Let alone where did these works come from?

“You will know soon.” A whisper came from my left.  there was no one there when I turn my head. the seat was completely empty and there was no one behind me that could be close enough to say it. 

“Next stop Broadway Ave. “

Closing the book and grabbing my bags. I slip past people.my body has a flow. I slip pass people without touching them knowing I was there. anyone would use it to their advantage when its places like this.    At these times it almost completely true and I used it. I have gotten to the top of the stairway without any issue. 

“I don’t want to, but I need too.” I spotted the clinic with its massive red plus sign. Speedy across the sidewalk to reach it without any difficulties walk over. I pull out a 10 I had in my pocket and put it in buster cup. 

“Hey sliver.” 

“Hey buster. Keep both of stomachs full.”

“You know I feed him before I feed myself.” 

 Buster was a homeless guy with a lot mental and physical problems. He is ex-military soldier, who lost his arm in battle. With the battle on top of that he has severe PTSD. Then there Altan a small brown and white boxer, that found his way in buster arms.  Altan means second chance. Buster even admitted feeling like he gotten a second chance, ever since he meant the boxer. 

“That is loyalty, at its finest”

I open the door. where there was no line, making me not delay any longer. 

“Here for sliver.”

 The lady behind desk. Look at her Monitor. 

“Ahh yes for your shots right.”

“Yea” I said grimly. 

“It will be over before you know it.” She said with an empathetic smile and pointed to the waiting room.  

No one hates them like me. me and needles have a VERY bad history. Before I can go down memory lane. I spot an eleven-year-old by his self. Seem like Noah was trying to speed up the waiting process again. 

“Hey tails”

“Hey sliver, you getting your shots done?” 

“Yea, you know me and needles. Did you finish that level with bowser?”

No, I gotten him down like 5 percent. One attack away from wining. Then I died.”

“Oh man. You were almost there. You were one hit away?”

“Yea.”

“how about this, I help you beat him tonight?”

“It sounds like fun.” 

“Okay I have nothing planned after this, so I can follow you home.”

“My brother has an interview.”

“I can still follow and keep you company. An interview takes about an hour.” 

“SLIVER.” Said a nurse in blue.

“Looks like my que. Hey, can you watch greenie I have a feeling you would be here a bit.” Only grabbing my purse and my journal that still in my hand.

“Sure.”

“Be back tails.”

Nothing special happen. They ask the classic questions. Took my measurements, and weight. Am I don’t any drugs. Am I smoke so on so forth. 

When I was left in the room, I wrote in my journal my weight and height. I still average size, but I grew an inch. Now, I am 5’5. I went to the page with the monkey and robot. I know I need to add more. Like that ball or sphere in my dream and they shape of that key. Just trying to do whatever to distract myself.  Form mine understand this “scourge” is linked to this “Unicron” in some way.  I am guessing, that this Unicron eats planets to fill their hunger. These Maximals are keeping this key away. I drew just a diamond because the closest I can draw it because it went with that second ape.  I barely saw him for a minute.

Okay main thing to take away from this dream so far. key from Unicron. This Scrouge and Terrorcons do whatever Unicron says.  These Maximals are this guardian of this key. That would make him more powerful. They swore to play keep away.

This is all to my understanding. Many questions are going through my head. what is this key. where did the rest of the Maximals go. what more is out there? who is this ‘midnight’? the biggest question that I have was, why me? I just a nobody that just run and knows a lot of random facts. 

I just kept sketching I just let my hand wonder.

 A doctor in white coat came in. my right sleeve was already rose up for her. So, I can get this over.  my legs were crossed, so this book was in some what a stable condition.

“that’s a nice wolf you are drawing there.”  

A black wolf was under the word midnight. Was that midnight?  My gut was saying yes but didn’t want to trust it on something as a drawing. I can't seem to find a reason to disagree. 

“Thank you.”  I said trying to be polite. Now realizing she was cleaning up.  

This wolf was nothing like me. I am a human from my planet earth. I am walking on two feet not four. I have hair, not fur. There so much that different between the two of us. could the ape confuse my kindness for her, or Mr. Apelinq could have been having a life flash before his eye’s moment. 

I HATE not knowing. I also know that I am not getting an answer.  While I was going down this worm hole of possibilities or theories. The appointment was over before I know it. Prefect timing to as I was walking out sonic, and tails were about to start there’s. 

“I got it tails, go.” 

I traded places with him. I pull out the last cholate chip cookie I had in the green bag. Staring monkey with graphite eyes. Like he could talk back.

“How can I solve this mystery?

Tag: @apexprime.

[doubleddenden]

I had been going over various fan theories regarding ZA, and one I thought was totally dumb was the reintroduction of Ultra Wormholes. In Kalos.

I thought they were stupid, much like how I thought certain poketubers for thinking Kalos went to war with Alola, Kanto, Galar, Sinnoh, Hisui, and Paldea.

But, the longer I entertained the thought, the more I found ideas to actually give weight to UWs in Lumiose. Now granted, I don't think it's past a 30% chance of happening, but Game Freak keeps doing weird shit lately and the weather here keeps turning to storms at 4% chance of sprinkles, so let's just... let's just provide some support beams and pretend to be devil's advocate for a bit, just because I find the idea fun for a thought process.

Again, I'm not 100% committed to the idea, but I will entertain the bit to see how it could work.

DD's theory corner under the cut

Now first, we would need to ask "why" UWs in Kalos to begin with. Stretch your arms, stretch your hammies, we're gonna reach a bit while we do some mental gymnastics.

So

Why?

Lore theory: we're gonna need some way to isekai some poor Gen Alpha iPad teen to- presumably- Lumiose City 200ish years ago during the same time frame that Legends Arceus happened- irl, during the time period Japan colonized modern Hokaido and roughly the same Era the infamous Paris Rennovation came about (there's lots of videos and theories going over how this might be the case, pick your poison- Logstin went over the theory in a pretty digestable video).

So why not the same method as LA? While there's nothing saying Lumiose can't have Space Time Distortions like Hisui, you do have to remember that in the events of LA, all of that happens because Giratina started messing around with reality and pissing off Dialga and Palkia so that Giratina could get revenge on Arceus for sealing it away long ago. That was the method in which Ingo got transported to the past without memories, somehow traversing modern day New York to Hokkaido wilderness 200 years ago. Arceus sends the player back through the distortion above Mt Coronet as well, and we literally fall out of the sky according to witnesses.

So again, why not? Giratina and Arceus are busy in Hisui having their feud at this time- lore wise anyway.

However, the REAL reason I find this difficult is because that's a Gen 4 heavy premise involving the creation and maintenance of the fabric of time and space itself- Kalos is Gen 6, not really about those two.

So what other options are left?

1. Hoopah- in ORAS, Hoopah is highly implied to be why we're able to come into contact with so many random legendary Pokemon due to its rings connecting 2 spaces- the problem with this, I find, is that we don't really have evidence to say it could involve time travel- certainly explains getting a Sinnoh Legendary while in Hoenn, but not how someone could go back or forward in time.

2. Time Machine- as of SV and Indigo Disk (and as of late may/early june 2024), we now have time travel as a viable plot device, and seemingly space doesn't seem to be much of an issue since we Boot Strapped the book that would make the professor go crazy and create it to begin with. The issue here is that it seems to only be in places connected to the same Crystals of Area Zero, like the Crystal Pool, and that was just a temporary happenstance caused by Terapagos itself on a whim.

I won't completely dismiss this possibility- after all, we have a number of scientists that abandoned the professor after he went nuts and could have easily built another time machine in Kalos or something- however, the issue here becomes both lore and meta conflicting.

A. The time machine requires a TON of power to maintain, that's why it was built in Area Zero to begin with. The Crystals grow like crazy there and can easily power it for as long as the professor willed it- and mind you, we turned it off. That's not saying it can't be turned back on, but I doubt we could use the same one for Lumiose. Why?

B. Think back to Legends Arceus in relation to SwSh. The one connection to Galar we had was Laventon and a bit of industrial revolution tech. In fact, there's no Galar related Gen 8 Pokemon there and no discernable connection to Dynamax energy either (although the "bigger Pokemon" bit is recycled by Alphas, which lets face it, SwSh recycled that from Totems of Alola- of which Alphas are kinda those but Different tm). In other words, even though Paldea IS next door, if we look at it from a meta development perspective, it's most likely that- at most- we'll have a similarity and not exact mirrored causation.

To play 2nd Devil's Advocate, sure, they could theoretically power a time machine with modern day Infinity Energy- but you have to think that the professor could have turned towards that if it was a sustainable power source instead of the Crystals.

All of this being said, I won't completely dismiss another time machine of some kind. A wise man once said "shit happens, my dude."

3. Ultra Wormholes

Now that we're finished entertaining the second devil, we're back to the first I started with. UWs- Ultra Wormholes going forward- aren't strictly an Alolan thing. Yes, they are strongly associated with Alola, but as of Crown Tundra we have proof that they can and have appeared elsewhere and can even merge with other phenomenon like dynamax energy, paving way for Dynamax Adventures and its legendary bargain sale and even dumping our own Cosmog on us.

UWs can mimic the effects of TSDs- Time Space Distortions, taking us to different universes, dimensions, planets, and perhaps times. Remember how in Ultra SM we saw an apocalyptic Hau'oli City ravaged by Guzzlord? Remember how we could go visit alternative worlds where humans, Pokemon, and Ultra Beasts could live and thrive peacefully? Granted, we and the Ultra Recon Squad needed box legendaries to do it under controlled methods, but control isn't entirely necessary in this scenario of time traveling.

Fallers- if you don't remember the term, that's a term used to describe someone who fell from a different dimension and lost their memories of who they were- we could say Ingo became one from the TSD, Looker as well for some unknown reason in the AU ORAS takes place in-perhaps tied to Hoopah's rings. The term Faller, however, stems from the original SM and was used to describe Annabel- former Hoenn Battle Tower Frontier Brain in Emerald who lost all of her memories and came back as the chief of Interpol (or in Ultra, as Looker's new partner basically).

If we remember too, there might be another method to control these given how Rainbow Rocket formed from universes where the bosses succeeded.

Continuing on, you might ask why UWs in Lumiose in this particular case?

From here on, this will be conjecture, theorizing, guessing, and referencing old rumors. I did say I didn't 100% buy it, we're just giving this idea legs to stand on.

So to begin with, let's reference an old rumor that a few may have heard before- full disclosure, it came from a 4chan post that claimed to be a dev talking about scrapped ideas and content originally planned for XY- this was recent as of... a couple or more years ago, maybe. There's not much solid proof it's true in any regard, but the details mentioned do make it a curious read that I'd say might have a chance of at least partially being true, given how game development and Game Freak tend to work.

To summarize what I remember: basically during XY's development plan, there was a wildly different story planned at the time compared to the rather generic adventure we had. Basically, aliens were supposedly invading Kalos and Team Flare was part of it- supposedly this is why Xerosic and Vallerie look so strange. They were ALIENS. Fairy Types also came from space in this regard, as did Mega Evolution with the stones originally being part of the space ship. Sycamore and Lysander were also planned to be sort of a split mind 2in1 villain as well, and the XYZ legends look so different compared to other legendary Pokemon because they were also aliens of some kind. Also, Olympia's space-themed psychic type gym was apparently a remnant of this idea- she was originally supposed to play a much larger role in the story.

This idea was ultimately canned- too ambitious for the time limits they had. However, elements of the idea were supposedly reworked into ORAS and Alola following. You can sort of see where this is going with Ultra Recon Squad, Lusamine going kinda crazy as Mother Beast, Z Crystals being from Necrozma from another dimension, etc.

That's another thing- Alola took Kalos's Z. Not just the Z in Z Crystal, but Z as in Zygarde's additional formes, I think even his cave if memory serves. It also took Ash Greninja and the other Gen 6 megas and primals that Kalos didn't get to see. In that sense, it could be fair to say Kalos could use UWs in this sense.

Hisui dipped it's hands in a lot of other Gen pockets- Gen 2's signature Apricorns that were exclusive to Johto and never found in Sinnoh, Gens 5, 6, and 7 Pokemon and forms including Sylveon and Alolan Vulpix despite not appearing in the DP remakes, even regional variants and even ancestors from the Pearl Clan and Galaxy Expedition team to other regional characters. If we look at this, we can safely say Legends Games don't have to strictly abide by what the original region introduced and can borrow elements introduced later. So in this case, and looking at Crown Tundra again, we can say it's not off the table.

Getting back to Z- if you've read another theory of mine where I talked about how Z-A could be read either as "Zee-Ay" or "Zed-Ay" depending on your dialect, and maybe "Zeta" depending on your pronunciation, and how Z is how Zeta is represented in Greek (remember Alpha, Omega, and Delta were used before), there's something else neat to it: Zeta is the 6th letter of the Greek Alphabet- like gen 6, but has a numeric value of 7. Like... Gen 7, with UWs.

Now lets continue with another theory I posited a few posts ago: The A in Z-A. Xerneas, Yveltal, and Zygarde- XYZ- are a trio that represent a 3 dimensional view on a grid- important for the first 3d main line game. X is left and right, Y is up and down, and Z is sort of the 3 dimensional area that goes through both- 3 dimensions. So where does A come in? I had theorized A would be another legendary- much like Enamorus in Legends Arceus was introduced, but A in this case would serve a bigger and actual role here. The XYZ trio are based on various creatures of Norse mythos, including the deer that feed on Yggdrasil and provide life- Xerneas being both the deer and the trees; Yveltal being the hawk or eagle that rests atop the world tree, and Zygarde being based on the Nidhogg. A could be Ratatosk- a gossipy squirrel that kept trying to start shit between the eagle? I think? and Nidhogg. A in this case serving as a foil to Zygarde, since it's probably that Xerneas and Yveltal will still be asleep by this period. That's all the short end of my theory.

So now how does A fit into this? If we take into account that XYZ are the 3d plain, then A must be something beyond that. A 4th dimension, something beyond standard 3 dimensions- and what are Ultra Wormholes if not another gateway to other dimensions? With Ultra Space being the 4th, if we look at it a certain way?

In this scenario, A would be something from beyond Earth to some capacity, giving Zygarde agency in this story to defend the planet. Remember, we're only going to be in Lumiose, supposedly, so a localized danger from another world could pose significant threat. It could just be a monster of the week, it could just be alternative forms of Xerneas and Yveltal, it could be many things from beyond.

Actually, now that I think about it, Legends Arceus took Regional Variants to the next level by introducing them to a past region AND giving them to starters- maybe A in this case is not Ratatosk, but perhaps a Convergent Legendary from another universe or planet- an Anti-Zygarde, since we just got convergents in SV.

I had more rambling, but a small interruption came up as I was typing this and I lost my trail of thought by the time I came back.

I think I'll close this off for now. I'm still not 100% convinced of UW's in Lumiose, but I'm not opposed to the idea either. After building it up, I think there's plenty of ways to make this actually work, but I think I won't commit fully to this piece unless they show signs of it happening in a trailer or something. I'm open to many ideas, including the idea that this Lumiose we visit isn't actually real, but virtual- or perhaps there's an underground portion we haven't seen- but that's a different idea for another day.

thank you for reading this far, hope this entertained you for a bit

[bigskydreaming]

Sometimes when I'm writing Lilith I have to stop and think about the fact that despite how long her character has been around, she's so rarely used and so wildly and arbitrarily recharacterized each and everytime she is, she doesn't really HAVE an existent long-running characterization. At least not so much as she has half a dozen wildly unrelated character traits haphazardly packed together in a tight enough huddle that they can all fit under her signature cloak and hood.

Not that her hood and cloak are iconic because of any particular narrative or character element, so as to be clear. Lil's pretty much associated with that look for no real reason other than: they gave her a cloak and hood in the 90s', because. Like. It was the 90s'. They kinda just...did stuff like that in the 90s'.

Look, the truth is for as much as a ton of us all throw 'it was the 90s' and 'what do you expect, we're talking about a comic from the 90s' and other variations of 'Man. LOL. Marvel and DC in the 90s, am I right guys?' every which way on any and every social media platform ever, as though like, that really does just sum it all up and yup, we sure did say something with that string of four words we put together there, all by ourselves....

Like, the thing about that is its one of those things you kinda just SAY for lack of any better way to put into words what it is you mean by that, even while knowing full well that there's like, pretty much NO chance that for any given 9 out of 10 other people you come across throwing similar phrases around twitter or tumblr.....like, they're more than likely not going to be picturing anything all THAT close to whatever first pops into YOUR head when you "It was the 90s" about a comic book and leave it at that.

Its really actually very hard to put into words what I'm getting at here, other than to just say....."comics in the 90s" is one of those utterly useless phrases that everyone says and yet doesn't actually mean anything at all because no two people actually mean the same thing when they say that and this is a thing that everyone who says that is very aware of......

But at the exact same time, "comics in the 90s" is one of the most accurate and easily understood and related to phrases that everyone says while knowing they don't actually have any idea what the other person is picturing but that doesn't matter because we still know that somehow, some sense of what we actually DO mean is making it across the great communication divide between brains and our wavelengths are syncing. We both nod. Yeah dude. You get it.

What does dude get? You don't actually know, even though you literally just said that dude got it and you were being SINCERE, you truly meant that you genuinely believed that on some level, in some sense, dude did still in fact get it. Even while at the exact same time you yourself haven't the slightest confidence that if some sci-fi gizmo were to beam down from Star Trek heaven or whatever and make it possible to pluck the precise thoughts and images your "comics in the 90s" conversation with Dude conjured in his mind and then put all that on screen alongside four other options....there was still like, a random one in five chance of you somehow picking the right one out of that lineup, and it honestly would have fuck all to do with any particular specifics that came up in your earlier conversation.

Comics in the 90s. It means absolutely nothing while somehow still communicating certain ideas and impressions and sentiments pretty clearly, but not clearly in the sense that any two people have anywhere close to an actual CLEAR idea of what someone else means, but still somehow clearly enough that like. You nod, appeased because Successful Communication was somehow still achieved even if in no form actually accepted or understood as actual useful or accurate communication.

So just so you know, if the phrase comics in the 90s or a 90s comic book doesn't actually mean anything to you because you werent reading comics then, and you havent read 90s comics at any point since then in a way that keeps books from that decade and that decade only lumped together in some kind of strange, awkward cohabitation space and identifies them all as being part of a shared set that's not really based on overlapping or similar characters or genres or themes or messages or settings or writers or premises or tropes, just.....Vibes. Vibes only....

Well. The one thing I can tell you about comics in the 90s and when people talk about comics from the 90s....is that one thing you're always gonna hear a lot of people say about a lot of different books and different narrative choices made within those books.....is just: Idk, really. It was just the 90s, y'know. They did stuff like that.

You will hear it offered up a lot in a way where context will reasonably lead you to conclude that the above explanation is being put forth as a likely explanation for why a specific character choice or narrative choice or editorial choice was made in a particular comic written at some point in the 90s.

You would be absolutely valid in feeling an urge to check for hidden cameras and for the host of some kind of internet prank show to pop out when you see people nod sagely in response to this proferred explanation as though they accept it as an actual explanation that actually did explain something somehow and that they feel that the initial question was in fact accurately or even adequately answered by this explanation.

Just know that you have not actually entered the Twilight Zone, and also, no one is intentionally trying to gaslight you. A conversation did happen there, an exchange of ideas and impressions was communicated, and as incomprehensible as that might probably seem a lot of the time, unfortunately its unlikely any participant of that conversation will be able to clarify further and actually break down what was communicated and how.

We genuinely, truly don't know, is the thing. When I say: "Lilith Clay's pivotal turning point from her earlier characterizations and depictions pre-90s to the mysteriously cloaked floating cipher figure she's existed as ever since the 90s occurred somewhere in the 90s, and this radical shift in how she was portrayed CAN be pointed out as a being a clear demarkation point between the two vastly different versions of Lilith, and cited as the point in time where this point here, this place in time here, this is when Lilith stopped being associated with the stuff she'd been previously associated with and brought to mind in the forms that she'd previously been illustrated in....."

Like all of that is pretty clear and self-evident enough.

But when I continue on from there to say:

"And I can point you to WHEN the change happened and show clear before and after evidence that proves that this is in fact where the seismic character shift occurred, I can even say if Lilith hadn't been used in the 90s and just gone into comic book Limbo and only brought back at some point after the 90s, there's a strong chance she would not have ever ended up as altered as she was by that decade, and she'd be a lot more visibly and narratively recognizable as the character she'd been pre-90s."

And this leads someone to ask the very understandably relevant followup question: "Okay so WHY did that big a change occur though? What were the reasons given for such a dramatic shift, what was said in the stories and by the characters and the writers to explain or justify why Lilith just one day started showing up to Superhero Meetings in ominous trying super hard to be Spooky and Mysterious Garb also I'm Omen now, call me Omen, Lilith is dead, long live the Omen, but not the creepy little kid from the movie because fuck that kid, I still hate kids, that part hasn't changed..."

This is when the communication breakdown occurs.

Because here is the point where all I can do is shrug and super helpfully inform you that I have absolutely no idea what most of the characters thought about the switch from Original Recipe Lilith to "So Apparently This is Still Lilith, Guys, Any Questions For Her? Seriously? Nobody?"

Like, nobody knows is the thing. No explanation was ever actually given in story. Nobody ever really treated this in story as noteworthy enough TO comment on even though the differences are night and day. Everyone just rolled with it and never stopped and at some point it just....became that thing where we were like oh okay, I see. Cool. Cool cool cool. This is just. New Lilith because Reasons and we're never actually going to get or hear or learn those reasons because like. There were never actually any real reasons and that's why no writers ever felt that these changes needed to be discussed or acknowledged within the pages of the comics either because well. That would imply that there actually WERE Reasons to be found somewhere, thereby insinuating that somebody should probably go and find out who knows what they are so they can share them with the class actually.

And thus, in the end, the literal only explanation I CAN ever offer for anyone who asks why Lilith went from who she was back in the 80s to who she's been ever since the 90s, what was the purpose, the point, did editorial mandate the character be revamped, was there a storyline all of that was originally meant TO lead into that just never happened, etc, etc, etc....

"Nope. Nothing like that. The answer to your question 'what the fuck was up with all the changes to Lilith in the 90s, what was the reason any of it happened in the first place' is as far as I or anyone else I know has ever been able to tell....is just....

"I mean, it was the 90s. Comics in the 90s kinda just.....did stuff like that and that's really the only way to say it. Lilith stopped being Lilith and became New Lilith and I would love to tell you that somewhere, someone has an actual reason for that or can speak to the thought process that put all of those changes into play and say whose idea it was and why they felt it was a good one, but like. Honestly? It was just the 90s. Like, the decade itself, or the anthropomorphized zeitgeist of 90s comics, lol. Its That Dude's fault, They did it. They killed Original Recipe Lilith. She's dead and we got this Other Lilith instead and it wasn't even because one of the many, MANY dramatically continuity-altering Crisis events happened, because this was nowhere near any of that and also that might actually make way too much sense and allow for a satisfactory explanation and there will be NONE of that here!"

But yeah. So that's what happened to Lilith. The 90s happened to her, it did it, like, the whole decade itself, and the absolutely, obnoxiously HILARIOUS part of it all is after all of that, ultimately the simplest way to ever answer the same question in the future would be to again just say "Idk, honestly. It was just the 90s, yknow?" and leave it at that.....

And no matter how little sense it might make if you're not in the iykyk portion of the audience for this part........tbh, most other fans I know who were reading comics in the 90s and have their own particular associations with that decade and its influence on comics, no matter what they are in contrast to my own or how much or how little overlap exists between our impressions...

I can say "The 90s happened," and shrug and for as little as that actually offers in terms of explanation, most 90s comics readers will just blink at that, take it at face value and go "Bummer. We lost some good ones that decade."

And that's the story of the non-answer for Why Is Lilith Like This Now Tho and how its actually just "The 90s did it" and for all that this is a nonsense answer that shouldn't convey anything because it doesn't actually say or explain anything, it still somehow happens to be not just the correct answer but the only answer, and most readers from them can hear that and think yeah that tracks. I get it.

And they do and I hate that because I AM NOT A FAN OF COMMUNICATION THAT DOESN'T ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE OR MAKE ANY SENSE ESPECIALLY IF DESPITE HOW MUCH I HATE THAT I STILL SOMEHOW END UP AGREEING THAT NO BUT IT DOES MAKE SENSE AND COMMUNICATE POINTS WELL. I CANT TELL YOU HOW OR WHY BUT IT DOES STILL WORK.

Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Comics in the 90s, you have so much to answer for.

Like I genuinely hate everything about everything I just said in this post so fucking much, you have no idea.

Also I genuinely stand by everything I just said in this post. I know its ridiculous, and brain-breaking and makes no sense and I don't get it and neither should you. There's nothing to get. Its just also that it does make sense and I do get it and I get it if you don't get it but for those of you who do get it, like. Yeah, you get it.

If it helps at all, I can promise you that nobody is more annoyed about all of this than I am. It literally makes me want to fight the 90s. Like, the actual decade. I want to find it in like, idk, some appropriately weird liminal Twilight Space like idk a Denny's at 2 am on February 29th or what the fuck ever and just be like hey, The 90s, literally what the fuck. We need to talk. Why were you like that. Did you even TRY not being like that? Who hurt you?

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