#they're out installing some signs that i made :3

[avatar-aaang]

ooohhhhh mytgg gooddddd I was given 3 simple tasks that are not being simple!!!

[secondbeatsongs]

how to make neon signs in inkscape!

I lost my mind and spent a large amount of hours yesterday perfecting my methods and figuring out how to do this, so if you're interested in making something like this:

here's how to do that!

step 1: cover your workspace in a dark grey rectangle, and lock that layer down.

I've been using 80% or 90% grey - you want this so you can see your neon effect, but you don't want it entirely black at this stage, or you won't be able to see your shadow layer.

step 2: create some text!

pro tip: rounder sans-serif fonts look the best for this, because think about what a neon sign is made of - it's tubes, bent into shapes! so if your font or design looks too sharp and pointy, it'll feel unrealistic when you make it neon.

(this is, of course, a perfectionism thing on my end, so feel free to ignore any and all rules in order to make the thing that you want to make. as with all art, you can do whatever you want forever!)

bonus pro tip: if you, like me, have over 1400 fonts installed and programs tend to lag when you browse through all of them, nexusfont is a great free software that lets you sort your fonts into categories, search them, and preview what any text looks like in different fonts! I love it. it is my best friend

now I'm going to do this with a few different fonts, so that you can see how it works with them. so today, I'm picking Futura Round, Harlow Solid Italic, and then to challenge myself, Beauty School Dropout and Block

make the text white, and also select the text and go to Paths -> Object to Path, because some things don't work right if they're not paths.

let's start off easy with Futura Round!

Step 3: duplicate your text layer

now bear with me here. but you need to take the text you're working with, and either right-click duplicate or copy/paste the layer until you have seven total copies of the text you're working with.

arrange them like this, making sure the top one is the first layer on the list (and so on), and then in the layers tab, label them like so:

pro tip: if you don't have the layers tab open, go to Objects -> Objects and Layers, and that'll pop it right up

Step 4: blur time!

switch to the Fill and Stroke tab, and make these changes to the paths:

glow small: 15% blur, 100% opacity

glow medium: 20% blur, 90% opacity

glow large: 50% blur, 70% opacity

glow xlarge: 70% blur, 70% opacity

your workspace should now look like this:

this is good!

pro tip: these numbers are just loose guidelines! at the end, mess around with everything to make sure that the glow looks right to you! nothing is an exact science

Step 5: shadow and outline

for the shadow layer, make it solid black, and then change the opacity to 50%

for the outline layer, we're doing something fun and weird. so right now it's a fill object, but we want it to be an outline instead! so let's hit the X in the lower left to make it empty, and then shift-click on...for the sake of this, let's say blue. to make our nice blue outline.

now's the weird part

now. use the align tool (Objects -> Align and Distribute), select the outline layer and the main layer, and align them so the outline text is exactly centered on the main one.

then go to Paths -> Path Effects, and when the tab opens, select just the outline layer, then click the drop-down arrow in the Path Effects tab and select Offset

here's our goal right now:

we want to offset the outline until it fits inside the text underneath it, and also mess with the stroke layer settings until you have a nice thick outline that doesn't overlap itself.

mess around with the plus and minus buttons. there are no exact numbers here; you just have to know when it looks good! but for me, the settings were a -0.34mm offset, with a stroke width of 0.700mm

this is roughly what you want it to look like:

now, with the outline layer still selected, blur it out just a bit until it looks fuzzy, and like the white center is a highlight rather than a separate layer. for me, the right number was about 8.3% of blur, to get a result like this:

Step 6: layering and changing colors

okay! at this point your work should look something like this:

you now want to select every layer except the shadow layer, and use Align to center them all on top of each other.

pro tip: make sure to untoggle "move/align selection as a group", otherwise this will not work.

you should now have something that looks like this, with the shadow layer sitting all by itself somewhere off to the side

now's the fun part: colors!

since we've decided that this neon light is going to be blue, it's time to change the glow to reflect that!

here's what it looks like when you change all of the glow layers to be that same, #0000FF blue as the outline layer

and here's what it looks like when you take the glow small layer and make it just a bit lighter (#4343FF) using the stroke and fill tab

in general, mess around with the layer colors until you like how they look! I find that it generally looks better if the glow small layer is a bit lighter, and the glow medium layer is as dark as the original color. everything else is fair game.

also the main layer can stay white (if you want it to seem very bright), or you can make it a very very light blue if you want it to be a bit more subdued.

Step 7: final steps

take your sad, neglected shadow layer, and move it slightly up and to the right of your main layer, so that it works...well, basically like a drop shadow.

then take your original rectangle, and switch it to 100% black.

now. gaze upon your masterpiece

that's a good neon sign if I've ever seen one.

but now. now's when we lose our minds

Steps 8-??: perfectionism and nonsense

so let's move the Futura one aside (and hide it! inkscape lags if there are too many blurry layers visible at once, so hide anything you're not using!), set the rectangle back to grey, and move on to Harlow Solid Italic.

I've sped through a few of the steps here (out of order) so you can see what I'm doing. I've added outlines to the large glow and xlarge glow, and bumped them up a bit so they'll have a larger glow area in general

this time I've made the large glow a little bit lighter than the xlarge glow and medium glow, and made the main layer a very pale pink instead of just white. I also blurred the outline layer just a bit more, because this font needed a bit more fuzz to make it look good.

hell yeah. this rocks.

now, one detail for perfectionism: in neon signs IRL, if you look closely, there are wires attaching them in the back, often connecting each letter to the next. so...let's do that!

get your pen tool, set it to spiro path, and then make little droopy lines connecting each letter.

make these thin, 100% opacity, and a very light (almost white) grey color. then group all of them together, and move this group under the small glow layer

pro tip: some of the cords might go mostly through the shadow layer. if this is the case, just put the cord group one layer above the shadow layer instead, and then it'll be fine. but you might make the cord color a pale-greyish pink to make it look like there's glow hitting it.

ultra advanced technique: duplicate the cord group, make it black and 50% opacity, position it slightly up and to the right of the original, and then move it one layer below it. you've got cord shadows babey!

lookit that. stare at that beautiful perfection. I love it. this brings me joy.

and now: the one that will be the most work

let's gooo Beauty School Dropout!

this one I'm using as an example for what to do with a font that's a bit too pointy to look realistic

this font is really fun and bendy, but the ends of the letters are flat instead of rounded, and the corners are a bit too sharp. so...let's fix that!

now, there are several ways we can do this (after doing Object to Path ofc).

one way is to edit the path yourself, going slowly, and making sure everything is perfect, editing the nodes individually.

or, you could select the text layer using the node tool, then click the button in the top bar labeled Add Corners LPE, and then drag the little circles and triangles around to smooth out the corners

I've decided to do the LPE method, but the problem here is that if you apply the LPE effect before making sure all of the corners look good nodes-wise, it's hell to try and fix it. so before LPE-ing, look at all the spots that you're going to apply the effect, and make sure each has one point at each sharp corner, with no weird overlapping bits. okay? okay.

also for the line beneath the text, it looks like it's made up of a bunch of different segments

and since I want to keep this line because I think it looks cool, we're going to have to deal with that, and make sure that it's all one solid piece, otherwise the outlining won't work. so I've gotta delete all the extra segments, and then move the points on just one of those segments until it's the full original line width, before rounding those corners as well.

basically I've got my work cut out for me here, this will all take a bit.

...aaand an episode and a half of Supernatural later, here's this!

look at how nice and round that is! perfect for the rest of the neon process

and with cords, shadows, layering, etc

hell yeah.

more things: it's block font time

let's make an outline-style neon sign!

my seven layers:

for all but the last two, I've not used the fill option with them at all - I have simply used the stroke outline.

now don't be worried! the stroke-to-path still works just the same way even using an outline to begin with! so it's easy to get an outline of an outline, and do the offset thing just like you did before

however, because this font is more complex-looking, there will probably be some errors when you offset it

for example, it didn't fully outline the second half of the Os, so I just copied the left halves, mirrored them, and replaced the right half with the complete left half

pro tip: keep in mind that you have to re-apply the offset to any bits that you add to the outline layer!

doing the same steps as last time, editing the glow blurs as I see fit, once again we end up with beauty and perfection.

another thing you can do: turn off the lights!

I'm going to use Beauty School Dropout and Harlow for this, but after making your beautiful neon signs, here's how to make it look like a turned-off sign, for if you want to make...idk, a gif of a light turning on and off, or a burned-out sign, or something like that.

so start with (ideally, duplicated copies of) your neon signs:

and then simply delete every glow layer, change the outline layer to 90% grey and your main layer to 70% grey, change the cords' color to a darker shade of grey than whatever it already is, and lower the opacity of the shadows by about 10-15%.

doing that, you end up with this

bam! lights turned off!

last thing: logos and other stuff

you can make neon signs with images as well as with text! the steps are essentially the same, though you may have to do more editing to make it look good, and use simplify on the path if it's too detailed.

and if you're using anything besides an .svg, you first go to Paths -> Trace Bitmap to turn your image into a vector! but unfortunately I've already used 29 images in this post, so here, just look at this Keith Haring thing I made as an example:

is it messier than the text? yeah for sure. does it have some pointy bits I could smooth out more? definitely. but, I've watched three episodes of Supernatural today, and that is more than enough time spent on this. so this is what you get.

but yeah, that's how I make neon signs in inkscape! I used to do it in GIMP, but this works much better, and looks so nice and clean! <3

(man, graphic design really is my passion)

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 7

Alfie Solomons x Fem! Reader, 3.7k words, WARNINGS: mentions of blood, injury, stitches, cursing, violence

Guys... is it weird that I'm crying a little? This is the first series that I've ever done. This is from the first post i ever made on this blog, and I feel like I've met so many amazing people from this series. I did spend a good amount of time thinking of a good way to close this series, and I can only hope that I made it good enough for you guys. My heart breaks leaving these two behind, but I don't think this is the end for them. I do see myself writing some one shots or other things for these two. But regardless... I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy this final installment. Sending all of my love always. - Mo

---

Any soldier worth his salt knows what getting shot feels like. Either through their own experience or staying beside their brother. They all say the same thing.

A hard punch.

The immediate all encompassing burn.

Your body feels like you’ve been run over by a train.

Your body on fire.

Air sliding through your lungs like glass shards.

Alfred Solomons has been shot five times.

Six counting this one. The first time was when he was 14, and he was caught snatching sweets from the corner store, and the old store owner with the bad eyes shot at Alfie, grazing his left thigh. The other four times were in the war. Foot and shoulder and once in the lower back, which is still troubling him to this day. All of those were the same. Rage inducing. The bloodlust burning brighter than the flame of the pain. In hours he was fixed up. Rusty scalpels and pliers pulling out the shrapnel as he numbed the cuts by drowning in drink and breaking metal bars with his teeth.

This one was different. The burn and hit was memorable. As memorable as a betrayal. But the bloodlust that got him through that burn wasn’t present. Like warm oil being poured over his mind and body he felt the exhaustion of the tears settle over him. And look. An angel has come to take him to stay with the forefathers. Wow… what a mercy… the angel looks so much like you. Sounds and smells just like you. Like lavender. Like spilled ink and fresh paper. So soft and tender. What a mercy God has given him. That the angel to walk him to the other side would look like the only woman he has ever truly loved.

Tommy and Ollie rush over, as John pulls you away from Alfie's body. You screamed and kicked, trying to get free from John's grasp. "It's alright love it's alright. They're going to fix him up I promise love! He's gonna be ok!" John tried to calm you but you were inconsolable as you saw Alfie's lifeless body being carried out. It takes four men to life his large and hardened body off the ground, a pool of garnet the only sign of the King of Camden’s presence.

John’s attempts at soothing and assurance are met with deaf ears. What point is there for calm and rationalization when Alfie might be leaving you. What point was there to breathe, if breathing meant prolonging a life on Earth that may not have Alfie. Your mind was blank. And you body could do the only rational thing it could do. Wail and preparation for the certain mourning to come.

With a hard smack across your face you suddenly cease, as you see Polly's face in front of you, "Enough! This is not the time for screaming!"

Your lip quivered, never had you been smacked like that before. With a wave, Polly dismissed John to assist Ollie and Tommy, and took you to a chair to sit. Polly wiped your tears, "I am sorry for slapping you, usually I don't smack friends till we are at least 3 months acquainted, but I felt you needed it and I'm sure our friendship will survive. But you need to pull it together darling."

You nodded. It was needed. Even if your ego was now bruised. Polly sighed, "I know you're scared. We all have been in your shoes. But you cannot lose yourself. We need to be there for our men. Yes?"

You nodded. Your man. Your Alfie. Polly stroked your face, "He will live.”

“How can you be sure?”

Polly gives you an embarrassed look, attempting to push up the corner of her mouth, “They always do darling. Try as they might to die, they somehow always make it out. I think God may think these episodes are more of a punishment than Hell.”

A defeated chuckle pushes out of your chest. Alfie would say something as dark as that. And for some reason that makes you feel better. Makes you feel more centered. Polly grabs a bottle from the ground and takes a long swig before passing it to you. You take a longer one, pushing to suppress the sick face you make. Polly’s eyes are glassy, looking at your young face. Thinking and considering how you would handle this. Handle this life. Because if her intuition was right, and it always was, this wouldn’t be the last time you experienced this. This wouldn’t deter you from being next to Alfie. As if Alfie would ever let you go.

Polly stood up suddenly, looking in the gilded mirror on the wall nearest to her, smoothing her dress and repinning those loose curls that fell out in the fray. She holds out a regal hand to you, “C’mon dear. I know where they’d be taking him. He’ll want you near I wager.”

You nod and stand up, not making anymore to wipe the blood or tears off your face. Though it doesn’t stop Polly from straightening out your slip and placing your hair more akin to how you came in. As you begin walking to the door, you see a familiar glint in the shadows and wet of the floor.

Alfie’s signet ring. Small. Small for Alfie at least. You knew him to wear it on his left pinky amongst the rest of his rings. Pure gold, with a royal S engraved onto its front with ivy and thorns. You pause to pick it up and hold it in your hand. It must have slipped off in the scuffle and removal of his body. Polly looked behind herself to see what had made you stop, and marveled at how you had even caught it, “How did you even see that?”

“I suppose I’m just good at looking for his things.”

Polly smiled softly, a familiar ache in her chest reappearing. “Well make sure you don’t drop it hmm? I’m sure he’ll want it back.”

You nod, immediately slipping it onto your left ring finger. You knew innately it wouldn’t budge. It was a perfect fit.

The Shelby family had a trusted physician who routinely dealt with these sort of things. Stand. Cuts. Gunshots. The occasional childhood scrape or concussion when the children needed a good scolding and scare to not be stupid. Dr. Hendricks had been the Shelby physician for many many years. So when he was called for ‘a slight emergency’ he knew that he needed to make immediate preparations.

The Shelby boys and Ollie bashed in the ornate door of Dr. Hendricks’ door, and were immediately met with Mrs. Hendricks pushing the men into the dining room. Already prepped and cold with sterile air Dr. Hendricks directed further with a low and booming voice, “Right here Mr. Shelby, hurry, can’t risk anymore blood loss.”

Alfie was pale, but was still breathing and choking out small groans. Mrs. Hendricks worked diligently alongside the Doctor, who asked questions and made conversation with the men, trying to bring down the tension. “Mr. Solomons boys? Why the sudden fit of charity.”

Mrs. Hendricks hushed him and his sore mouth. But his cheek was what made him so beloved by the Shelbys. Even in what seemed like dire moments, the good Doctor was never one to shy away from a joke or jab. Suddenly Alfie groaned under the crowd. Tommy looked down, shocked Alfie was awake now. Alfie, through the pain and blood, groaned and moaned your name through his teeth. Tommy grabbed Alfie’s arm, “Alright Alfie alright. She’s coming. Took a little bit of a hit didn’t ya old man? You stay awake now for her yeah? Can’t let the girl see ya like this.”

The pain was a hell of a drug, and Alfie could only slur out, “She ok? That little viper make it out ok?”

Tommy could only smile. Even with all the blood loss he was still himself. “Yeah Alfie. Yeah she’s alright. A right harpy screaming out for ya. Now you gotta get fixed up for when she comes back alright?”

Alfie nodded, slipping in and out as the final fragments were being removed, “As soon as im stitched up… I’m killing every Sabini I see. Then I’m fuckin marrying her… you hear me?”

Tommy smiled as Dr. Hendricks scoffed, “I hear you Alfie. I know you will.”

Alfie passed back out on the table. Dr. Hendricks nodded at Tommy and Ollie, “He’ll be alright. Nearly hit some vital organs but it’s alright. Have a nasty scar though, I’m sure he won’t mind. He’ll probably sleep for the rest of the night and into the morning. You all stay here, let’s keep an eye on him yeah? Mrs. Hendricks? Would you call the kitchen to make some supper for the gentlemen here and ladies to come?”

Mrs. Hendricks and the kitchen must have indeed been witches in a past life, or in the present. because there was no logical reason that such a warm and delectable feast could have been prepared so quickly. Soup and bread and cold chicken brought up with strong tea and coffee. When John Shelby asked for gin, his head was swiftly smacked by the effervescent Mrs. Hendricks, who quickly reminded him that she knew where all his sore spots were.

Polly and you arrived soon enough, and were embraced by the Doctor and his wife. The Shelby men stood up quickly, nodding to you in respect. Ollie shucked off his coat to drape over you. It was warm in the house. But your shivering wasn’t for cold.

Before you could look to Dr. Hendricks, he gruffed out from behind his thick salt and pepper beard, “No need to fret Miss. He was a model surgical patient. Nearly slept through the entire thing. In fact that stomach of his is a model for good stitchin’ would you like to see?”

Before Dr. Hendricks could pull back the clean and crisp cotton laid over Alfie’s bare torso to show you his no doubt fantastic work, Mrs. Hendricks stopped with a cherub like hand on his thick arm, “My dear, I don’t think the lady would feel keen on seeing her darling cut and stitched. Maybe some other time yes? Why don’t we let her have time alone with Mr. Solomons? It’s late. I think we should all retire yes?”

With a look around the room everyone nodded, giving their best to you and expressing incredible thank to the Doctor and Mrs. Hendricks. The Shelby boys tipped their hats to you as they filed out. Ollie nodded to you, assuring you that he’d alert your family of your whereabouts. Polly gave you a motherly hug, kissing the tip of your head, “Chin up dear. Must be strong when he wakes up. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

As soon as you came in, you were left alone. With the soft voice of Mrs. Hendricks pulling out of your numb trance. “Let’s get you cleaned up dear. Get you in something a little more comfortable. My daughter was about your size, and I have some of her clothes in her old room.”

Like a child who just woke out of a long slumber, you were lead down the short hallways littered with photos and paintings and certificates to the now guest room of the Hendricks home. Once she realized you had gone nearly despondent, Mrs. Hendricks helped you out of your stained dress, and into a soft cream colored night gown, with pink ribbon threaded through the top. She called one of the maids bring up hot water to wash the makeup, dirt, and dried crusted blood off your face and arms. Your dress was taken to be washed, and Mrs. Hendricks un-pinned your hair, getting it loose and out of your face. She sat you back in the make shift hospital room once she assured your were comfortable and clean. She poured tea for you. Something strong. Something hot. Your thumb rubbed across the delicate ridges on the cup, incredibly interested in the greenery hand painted on the china. Unable to face the near stillness of Alfie on a table.

“You love him don’t you?”

You feel those tears welling up in your eyes. Unable to speak any louder than a whisper, you confess, “Very much.”

She smiled softly, placing her thick soft hands on your knee, “He called for you.”

You looked up, “Did he?”

A soft chuckle left her, and she sounded so much like your mother, “He did. That’s the thing about these military gangster men yeah? Big and strong and tough. Till they get hurt. Then they cry for their women. I think we are the only things that help.”

You nodded, a pained smile sneaking on your lips, hands gingerly slipping into his rough hands. So much gentler now in sleep. Your eyes never leave his hands as you ask, “How do you stand it? How does any woman stand it?”

Mrs. Hendricks just sighs. Remembering the old days with her dear husband James. Back when he running with the Lee boys. When the medical practice wasn’t just a medical practice. There was a reason he was so good at stitching people up. Mrs. Hendricks leaned back in the chair, “By trusting them. By scolding them. Telling them off when they’re being outrageous. By standing by them. Because we know even a little bit of time with them is better than a life without them.”

Mrs. Hendricks then stands up, “It’s nearly 2 sweetie. Why don’t you take Jeanine’s old room? He’ll be there when you wake up.”

You shake your head vehemently, “No. Thank you Mrs. Hendricks. Thank you very much for your hospitality. But I want to be here when he wakes. I just… I don’t want to leave him here alone.”

She softly smiles, a tear slipping by, “Alright sweetie. That’s fine. I’ll bring you a couple blankets then. And a pillow just in case. Feel free to walk around the house if you need. Kitchen is all yours.”

You’re not sure how long you stayed awake after the gifts of the blankets were delivered. But you never laid down. You sat on one of the chairs placed on the dining room table where Alfie laid. You brushed the hair out of his face and ran your fingers over his beard and scars. You rattled off the notes you had for the gaming club. You whispered to him about the set up, the prices, and how he should really be more affable with the customers. But mostly you whispered how much you loved him. How much you wished you had told him sooner. How much he scared you doing that. You chastised him for putting himself in such grave danger. And for every insult and admonishment you kissed a knuckle and scar. Every kiss an oath that you would not leave him. Not willingly. Not before death.

It was mid morning when Alfie’s gruff voice woke you, “Well ain’t you a picture.”

You gasped and sat up straight, hand clutching Alfie’s warm hand. His hand squeezed back tiredly, “Now I know I’m damned… but this sure don’t look like hell… too nice ain’t it. And I know the devil wouldn’t let an angel like you in hell with me.”

“Oh shut up you wretched old man please.”

You crashed your lips into his, relishing even in his slightly chapped lips as he chuckled into you. You feel him move under you, “Now now sweetheart easy on the old man. Don’t go popping my stitches now. Oh treacle why are you crying my dove? I’m here ain’t I? Old Alfie’s alright.”

You couldn’t help the tears falling, “I… Alfie I… you nearly died.”

He sneered, “Nah. The bastard barely nicked me. What about you eh? No bumps or bruises on you?”

You shook your head and sniffled. You knew you looked pathetic but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Alfie was alive. Not when you got to see him in the morning light like this. Alfie groaned as he pushed himself off the table. You moved to help him as he motioned you to settle. He got up, limped to another chair to sit down. The stitches held and he looked good. Still a bit pale but good. “Do you need water Alfie? Tea? I can call for breakfast.”

He shook his head, “No not yet love thank you… but come here.”

The wood floors were cold on your bare feet as you softly walked over to him. He stared up at you, as he tugged on your nightgown, signaling you to sit. Carefully… oh so carefully you sat on his lap, legs swinging over the side, wrapping your arms around his neck. Alfie leaned back with a sigh, bringing you closer, “This is all I need treacle. Just need you near.”

Stroking the scar on his jaw you whispered, “I was so scared Alfie… I thought we’d lost you.”

With half lidded eyes Alfie stared at you. Your sweet lips and teary eyes. A picture of beauty and serenity. The rough callouses on his hands caressed up and down your bare arms, “You’re never going to lose me dearie. I’ll always be here. No matter what. You know why?”

The way his eyes become like fire makes your heart beat faster, “Why?”

He brings your hand to his heart. His own hand dwarfing yours as you feel the strong and steady heartbeat in his chest, “Because this sweetheart… this belongs to you… No matter what happens… in this life the next one and every other fuckin one… I belong to you. You ain’t ever got to worry about what might happen because I’m with you. You got it?”

You smile, nodding, feeling as though your heart is going to burst, “My heart belongs to you Alfie.”

“You don’t have to say it back treacle.”

“I do if it’s the truth.”

A blush rose in his cheeks, barely concealed by his beard and the smile that broke out on his face. “Well… treacle… if that’s the case… I wanted to ask you in a more romantic way…”

“Alfred Solomons…”

“But this seems like a good time…”

“I swear if you dare ask me…”

“And we never know what’s to happen next…”

“Alfred Solomons I am in a night gown!”

“Woman if you do not be quiet I am trying to ask you to be my wife!!”

Your hand flies to your mouth in utter shock. Alfie’s brows are furrowed but he’s trying to keep the smile off his face, “Marry me sweetheart. Be my wife please. I can’t promise that I’ll suddenly be a tame boy but I can promise you that I love you more than any other man ever could love a woman. You can scold me all you want and I’ll never be cross with you.”

He watches you bite your lip and think, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven for real this time. You cheekily smile, “I do like it when you’re cross though.”

A dark glint flashes in his eyes as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss, which you all too willingly return. When you come up for air he asks you again, “Is that a yes? You going to be my wife?”

You laugh, “Yes Alfie. Always yes.”

Laughs escaped out of you in a stampede as he presses a million prickly kisses to your cheeks. He mumbles out onto your face, "I need to get you a ring. We'll go to the shop yeah? You pick out any ring you like, I'll resize whatever I need to. Fuck we'll design it for ya yeah?"

You push him back from his assault on your face and hold up your left hand, The one holding his signet, "One could say I have one already. You dropped it on the way over."

Alfie grabbed your wrist to inspect your hand. When he finally recognized the ring and noticed his own was missing, his laughter roared out, "Fuck me you are always so prepared. Always two steps ahead of me ain't ya? Well alright treacle. There's your engagement ring for now. But on our wedding day, I'm giving you a dazzling rock you hear me?"

You laugh again as he rants and raves for his idea of a ring for you. Knowing inside that it didn't matter what he gave you. If he gave you a ring at all. All that mattered was that he was here. He was yours. And you are is.

6 Months Later

The slow sea air dances in through the open window, sending the gossamer curtains floating around you. The radio scratches out something slow and tantalizing from America, the notes sending shivers down your spine. You're dizzy from the night you've had. The butterflies and bubbly drinks and spinning along the floor. You can't believe it happened. You can't believe your wedding day arrived. You feel as though you're amongst the clouds. The only thing keeping you anchored to the Earth is Alfie's grip on your white satin slip as you sway against him to the music.

Late at night. Early morning. Too much work to tell. But it was the first time in a week that you've been able to be alone with Alfie. Your husband.

"What're you thinking about my love?"

You press your face against his chest, shirt long discarded, "I'm just so happy. I didn't think I'd have this. That we'd have this.'

He hums as he presses his lips to your hair, smelling the perfume that had been brushed through your hair. "But we have it now. This is the greatest gift I've ever received. This is the life I've always dreamed of sweet."

You continue to dance with your husband until your bodies couldn't take it anymore. Soon enough he carried you to bed, quickly drifting off into deep sleep in Alfie's arms. In the morning you would wake not as a secretary. Not as a scared girl. Not as someone who felt as she didn't belong. But as Alfie's wife. Alfie's partner. A confidant. A capable woman running a business alongside her best friend. Tomorrow you would wake up excited for this next part of your life. Waking up to a new beginning.

Tag List:

@jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog , @teapartydreams , @sciencewithottsnpotts , @6asm0ne , @purrrrfect, @bluejellyfiish @jassiefayee , @galactict3a , @il0vebeingdelulu @enretrogue @j23r23 @mulletmcghee @afuckingdisasterreally @graceisinloveagain

[nebulousbrainsoup]

Insurrection

Chapter 1: Catalyst

⛧ SUMMARY: One choice, made to fan the flames of love, may be the spark to start a war. ⛧PAIRING: vampire!kang yeosang x hunter!reader ⛧GENRE: fantasy, angst (so much angst), smut ⛧AU/TROPE INFO: fantasy au, vampire au, forbidden lovers, hurt no comfort ⛧WORD COUNT: 4.8k ⛧TAGS/WARNINGS: major character death (i'm so sorry), blood, violence, lots of emotion, mental breakdowns, pet names ([my] love, darling, love, Sangie), protective!yunho and protective!yeosang, treating vampires as unseelie fae, not beta'd ⛧RATING: mature ⛧A/N: for @a1sh1teruu; happy christmas from your secret santa! very sorry i'm a few days late; life has been interesting lately and this baby got away from me! i hope i didn't go too hard on the angst you asked for, but i did ask for your hard limits and, uh... i'm an angst writer first and foremost. (if i did go overboard, please please let me know, and i will whip you up something warmer and fluffier.) this did begin as a standalone, but the lovely @kwanisms convinced me to make it a series, so here we are! there will be a few more installments; a prologue and at least one sequel. even if no one else does, zerda, i hope you enjoy this. much love, orion <3 ⛧ smut tags under the cut ; banner by momther ki (kwanisms) ⛧masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

⛧ SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: sex as a distraction/coping mechanism, yeo has vampire speed and strength (don't look too close i didn't logic), sensitive pointy ears, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (boo), multiple orgasms (fem), pet names (Yeosangie, Sangie, baby, darling, love, my pretty girl ), mentions of exhibitionism & sharing if you squint, lack of aftercare bc they're both exhausted

In hindsight, perhaps you should have seen the signs. You had never seen Yeosang eat, no matter how many cafés you frequented together. He had been known throughout the village for his strange attire, the reverse of the seasons; he was covered from chin to fingertip to toe in the summers, while the dark winters found him showing a bit more skin. His pale complexion or the way he could throw you around in the bedroom without breaking a sweat may have given him away to you if you had paid closer attention. You hadn’t, though, and now you paid the price.

Your elders stood in a semicircle in front of you, stony faced, and your blood ran cold. Gideon glowered at you over the top of his steepled fingers, jaw tight.

“Kill or be killed, Y/N,” he spat, “the decision is yours. Kang Yeosang will not be able to protect you from us.”

It took every fiber of your being to hold back the shiver that threatened to tear down your spine. Your mind swirled as you bowed your head respectfully, hands clasped tightly in front of you. Something churned in your gut as you met his eye; whether or not his words would ring true was still to be determined, but you knew he and the rest of the council would try their absolute hardest.

“I understand, Elder Lewis. I will begin my preparations immediately,” you agreed, turning on your heel to see yourself out of the room. Three of the five sat straighter at your promise, one smiling proudly. You sighed in relief; so long as most of them believed you, you would survive the night. You could warn him and, if you were lucky, run.

For most, Yeosang and the rest of his coven were nearly impossible to find; he had told you some story ages ago, but now the secrecy made sense. Few were trusted with a map to their home, and you were thankful tonight to be one of those elites. Strategically placed vines guided you through the trees like flags, their leaves blending into the color of the evergreens’ needles to the untrained eye. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you hurried through the snow, fists clenched at your sides. The path was familiar and though time seemed to drag on in a blur, it felt like you arrived in seconds. The trees parted to a familiar, comforting sight; three cabins and a grand hall circled around a small clearing, and you beelined for Yeosang’s front door. 

It was his roommate, Yunho, who opened the door and tried to greet you but you pushed past him, body and mind set on your comfort. You practically collapsed into Yeosang’s arms, a small, pained sound leaving you as he bundled you into his embrace. His quiet questions and murmured comforts were lost on you. Your mind was running at a thousand miles a minute, a million questions running through your mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were vampires?” The first inquiry fell from your lips thoughtlessly, and you felt the air disappear from the room. Yunho’s footsteps halted where they were parting to allow you privacy, and you could feel the tension spike. The silence rang louder than any scream. “And don’t try to deny it; I’ve seen the evidence.”

“Who… how did you find this out, sweetheart?” 

You scoffed, shoving him away from you and taking a step back. Behind you, you heard Yunho shift to his friend’s defense, but a sharp glare from Yeosang seemed to halt him. “I’m a hunter, Yeosang. You’ve known this; don’t play dumb. My elders showed me your files today,” you paused, turning over your shoulder to glance at Yunho. “All of ATEEZ’s files.”

You watched as the elder coiled like a spring, ready to strike, still pinned in place only by your boyfriend’s scathing stare. Silence once again stretched for what seemed like an eternity, heavy across your shoulders. Finally, Yeosang broke it.

“Leave us, Yunho.”

“Absolutely not.” The reply was immediate, the taller boy standing straighter, his chin high. “I’m not leaving you alone with a hunter.”

You scowled, hearing your boyfriend growl a warning. You knew his expression must match your own. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with my girlfriend alone.”

Yunho opened his mouth to speak again but this time, you were the one to silence him. “I understand your worry and I appreciate your drive to protect your coven. I am not here to hurt Yeosang; I am here to… to ask for help,” you admitted, turning back to glance at your lover. “I forgot to even grab my knife before I left, if I’m being honest.” Yeosang let out a strangled noise of protest, worry painting his face, and you held up a hand to keep him quiet. “The elders… Gideon gave me a choice today. Kill or be killed. And I… I don’t want to do either.”

You could see Yeosang’s heart breaking, the corner of his lips curling down and his brow furrowing. “Yunho, please,” he murmured, “let us figure this out.” He gave no response, but a moment later, you heard the front door click shut, and Yeosang was bundling you back up into his arms. 

The moment you were alone, you shattered into pieces. You grasped his shirt in fists as tears flowed like waterfalls down your cheeks, his grip around you tightening like a vice. Sobs wracked your body violently, and you thanked the gods for Yeosang’s strength as, despite your knees buckling under you, you remained upright. He muttered quiet reassurances into your hair, hands running soothingly up and down your back. 

When you calmed, he gently guided you back, eyes soft and open as he cupped your cheeks and wiped the tears from them. You screwed your eyes shut and gripped onto his wrists like a lifeline, willing a fresh wave of emotion back. 

“It will be alright, my love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together. You can stay here for as long as you like, and we’ll protect you like our own.”

You whined in protest, eyes blinking open slowly. Sniffling, you shook your head. “I can’t ask that of you. If I’m tracked down, they’ll kill you all too. Hongjoong wouldn’t be willing to take that risk for a simple little mortal, much less one who has trained her entire life to hunt and kill him. He would be crazy.”

Yeosang giggled quietly, smiling gently. “I think you’ll find he is a little crazy when the situation calls for it. He trusts you like one of us already; he allowed me to show you the path here. You will be welcome.”

Hesitantly, you nodded, resigned to accepting your lover’s offer. There was little else you could do. “I will need a few things from the stronghold. I can go back to gather them tonight, and return tomorrow.” 

Peeking over your head and out the window, Yeosang frowned. It had been nearing nightfall when you had arrived, and the thought of you unarmed and stumbling through the dark forest unnerved him. He pulled you against his chest, carding a hand into your hair to scratch at your scalp. 

“Stay with me tonight, love. Let this be the first night of our new lives together. Let me protect you.” You felt your shoulders relax with every word he spoke, a soft smile playing at your lips. He had already convinced you but he continued, eyes flickering down to your lips. “Let me distract you.” 

You let your tongue flick out over your lips, drawing his attention back to them as you grinned. Hands slipping up his chest, you pressed closer to him. “What better way to spend our first night together?”

Yeosang grinned, tugging you in to crash your lips together. You hummed happily as you melted against him, one arm draping over his shoulder while the other carded into the hair at his nape. He held you to him tightly still, sighing against your mouth as you melted against him. 

“Take me to bed, Yeosangie,” you muttered when you parted for breath, and he was more than happy to oblige. Strong arms braced under your thighs and lifted you in one fluid motion. Before you had time to think, you were in his room with your back pressed to the mattress, and you let out a squeak of surprise. Your lover was grinning at you when you pulled away. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I assume you’ll be using all of your fancy vampire powers at every turn, hm?” 

“Maybe not all of them,” he teased, pressing kisses up your jaw. “I’ll only bite if you ask nicely,” he purred into your ear, his silky baritone sending a shudder down your spine.

You whined, tugging him back up by his hair to lock your lips, legs wrapping around his middle to pull him impossibly closer. He groaned, low and broken, as you ground against him, losing himself for a moment before he pinned your hips down to the bed. 

“Tonight is all about you, my love,” he hummed, hands running down your thighs as he sat back on his knees. You pouted up at him and he couldn’t help but grin, kneading at the soft flesh under his fingers. “I’m going to take my time with you and savor this. No more quick nights at the tavern, hm?” 

You shuddered under his touch, eyes flickering to the door. “What about Yunho?”

The grin on Yeosang’s face was purely wicked and heat ran through your body. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure the whole coven can hear you.” 

Despite his promise to take his time, Yeosang stripped you down quickly, tugging your shirt off and trousers down to leave you in only your undergarments. The moment he could, he leaned down, nipping at your inner thigh and grinning triumphantly at the sound it pulled from you. His lips quickly found their way to your throat as he let your legs fall in favor of slotting himself between them, lips attaching themselves to your throat. The drag of his teeth over your pulse had you whining into his ear, breath ghosting over the subtly pointed tip. It was Yeosang’s turn to shudder, all of his blood rushing south at the feeling. He sighed, burying his head against your shoulder as he gathered himself.

Or tried to, because a moment later, you were tucking his hair behind his ear, fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin, and he was choking back a moan. “C-Careful,” he muttered, reaching up to grab your wrist and halt you. “They’re sensitive.” 

“I don’t see the issue,” you hummed, drawing his gaze back up. You were grinning down at him and it was a pretty sight, but the mischief twinkling in your eyes had Yeosang wanting to wipe it from your face. 

Pinning your wrist to the bed, he slipped down your body at lightning speed, face level with your clothed core. In an instant, his tongue was pressed against you, and you let out a choked shout at the wet warmth that joined your own arousal. Yeosang grinned proudly once more, letting his teeth graze lightly over your heat as he sat back. That particular friction was foreign but pleasant, pulling a pretty little whimper from you.

“Do you still not see the issue with playing with sensitive areas, love, or shall I continue?”

Not one to be upstaged, you huffed a sigh, the corner of your mouth ticking up in a grin. “I don’t think I quite get it.” 

Yeosang chuckled, leaning back to lap a stripe up your thigh. Nipping at your hip, he slowly began a path up your body, leaving wet kisses in his wake. You sighed, the sound like music to his ears as you turned to putty beneath his hands. 

Your bra was the next garment to leave your body, tossed carelessly to the side as his mouth descended on your chest, lips quickly closing around your peaked nipple. One hand bracing himself, the other lit a contrastingly cool trail down your torso, coming to rest over your underwear. A quiet squeak left you and you squirmed under him, his icy fingers bringing a delicious new sensation to your warm arousal while his lips worked over your other breast. 

“Sangie,” you gasped out, one hand tangling into his hair and tugging encouragingly. “More, please.”

Chuckling lowly against your skin, he obliged, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side to slide his fingers through your wetness. You whined and writhed under him, hips seeking further stimulation—this wasn’t enough. The pad of his finger circled your clit and you jolted, a pitched whine leaving you that had Yeosang’s control snapping in an instant.

He needed more, and he needed it now. More of you, more of your lovely little sounds, more of your warm body pressed against his cold one. 

Pulling back from your chest with a wet noise, he sat back on his heels, tugging his shirt off and tossing it away from him. Your remaining undergarment was pulled off and discarded as he stood, quickly ridding himself of his final layers, too. He drank you in with a gaze that made you feel like prey, delicate and helpless underneath the ancient power that coursed through his veins. Pride swelled in his chest as he took in your open-mouthed, hungry stare. He chuckled to himself and ran a hand across his broad chest, letting you drink in the sight of him. His grin only spread as he watched you turn away from him, shy. 

“My pretty girl,” he hummed, running his fingers up the insides of your thighs as he settled between them again. 

Your pretty little whine had him preening as he lowered himself to your core, grinning up at you. Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he held eye contact and sighed against you as you shuddered, before his tongue flicked out to tease at your slit. He delighted in the way your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you urged him closer. His sharp, calculated gaze remained on you as he flattened his tongue against you, humming happily at the taste of you. His eyes rolled back in his head, finally slipping shut as he began to lose himself in the ecstasy that was your essence. 

Your sounds only grew as he began to eat you out in earnest and they went straight to his cock; Yeosang found himself rutting into the mattress within minutes, desperate to find any amount of friction. His pride fell to the wayside as he gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. He barely came up for air as he buried his face in your pussy, pleasured moans leaving him as he chased both of your peaks. Your tugging on his hair was what brought him back into his mind and, though he shot you a glare, his fingers quickly replaced his mouth. 

You were gasping for breath as he sat upright, grinning proudly while your legs dropped to rest over his elbows. “What’s the matter, love?”

“C-Can’t, g’nna cum,” you gasped, hands coming to rest over his biceps as you melted back into the mattress.

“Oh, well if that’s all,” he hummed, slowly lowering himself back down. You whimpered, hands tangling back into his hair at the warmth of his tongue and the chill of his fingers, but gave no further sounds of protest as he dove back into you. Within seconds, your legs were clamping down around his ears and he was opening his eyes, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy as he worked you over the edge. With one final suck to your clit, he sat back on his heels and drank in the whine that left you, sighing happily.

“Gods above, you taste good,” he murmured, licking his lips hungrily.

“Yeosang,” you whined, hands clawing up his arms to pull him close, “need you baby, please.”

“Need what?” He grinned, shifting up to cage you in completely, his cockhead teasing at your folds. You whine, shifting lower, and he clicked his tongue as one hand came to rest over your throat, stilling your movements.

You whined, blinking up at him with wide, doe eyes, and he had to bite back a growl. “Your cock, Sangie, please.”

He grinned down at you devilishly as he pressed into you, drinking down every whine and moan that spilled from your mouth as he sealed his lips with your own. When he was finally sheathed within your warmth, he sighed happily and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his and he felt secure, safe, as he began a slow and deliberate pace.

“So long as you’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, his speed building. “I will protect you. What is mine is the coven’s and what is the coven’s is mine.” You clenched around him, and he groaned lowly, his eyes squeezing shut. “We keep our own safe.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, the air crackling electric between you as you climbed to your second peak at record speed. The way his speed built in tandem with the passion of his words had you squirming, clawing for him. He shuddered, too, as your walls spasmed around him, his own orgasm catching him by surprise. He sat up straight and sheathed himself in you fully as you both rode out the waves of pleasure, his hips rolling in tiny circles to prolong it. 

With one last kiss to  your forehead, he pulled himself from you and collapsed to your side. He gave himself to the count of ten to bask in the warmth as he felt himself quickly falling into the meditative state he considered “sleep,” emerging from the brink of it to clean you. You sighed, basking in the attention, and Yeosang’s heart skipped a beat as he crawled back into bed with you—tired, cuddly, smiling, perfect you. He prayed you were asleep as he whispered into your hair.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hid your grin in his chest and fell asleep in his arms.

When you awoke in a bed that was not your own, the curtains around you pulled shut, you startled. Yeosang was laid next to you reading, and as you stirred, he glanced up from his page. “Good morning, darling.” 

You smiled, turning over to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning when he flushed and turned back to his book. “Good morning, Sangie. What time is it?”

“Just after sunrise.” 

Huffing, you pushed yourself up from the bed. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late. I’ll have to hope no one has a route in this direction today,” you muttered as you went about gathering your clothes, strewn about the room. “And that no one decided to hang around near my room.”

Yeosang set his book aside, frowning. “I’ll come with you.” 

“You will do no such thing, Kang Yeosang,” you protested, continuing on before he could speak. “The moment you are within firing distance of the castle, the elders will see you taken out. Stay here and speak to Hongjoong; I’ll only be gone a few hours.” He frowned deeply, eyes tracking your movements carefully as you tugged back the curtains an inch. “It’s bright out today, anyway. You wouldn’t be very comfortable past the treeline.”

The fight was over before it had really started, logic winning out over Yeosang’s protective nature. You were right; in the full sun of the day, with the snow reflecting it back up at him, he would be weak. Not only would protecting you be a challenge, his presence might hinder the speed of your mission.

“Alright. I’ll speak with Hongjoong. I’ll give you until noon to be back before I start looking for you.” Grinning, you bounced back across the room, leaning down to press a kiss to Yeosang’s lips. He hummed happily as he carded a hand into your hair, gently tugging you back for more. 

With a hand on his shoulder, you kept him at bay, chuckling quietly to yourself. “You had enough of me last night, love. You can have more tonight, but you have to let me go get my belongings.”

The sigh that left him was half-hearted at best, and you huffed another breath of laughter. “Fine. Be safe and hurry back.” 

“I will.”

As the door shut behind you, something unsettling stirred in his gut. For inexplicable reasons, he felt as though you were lying.

“Yunho, you met this girl. Can we trust her?” Hongjoong questioned, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. He looked relaxed, at ease in the safety of his own chambers, only the twitching of his jaw giving away his current inner turmoil. 

The man in question thought for a moment, shrugging and giving a small nod. “I think Yeosang coming back in one piece today is a pretty good sign.”

He nodded slowly, mulling the request over. It was a great risk for the coven to take in a mortal, both to the mortal and the coven. Word had spread on one occasion they did such a thing, and they had been forced to move rather abruptly. Y/N’s upbringing as a monster hunter added another convoluted layer to the whole ordeal; she could be playing them to spy for her order or, if they truly were on the hunt for her, she could end up getting them all killed. But no matter how stoic and strict he may look to outsiders, Hongjoong had an undeniable soft spot for his coven. So, as Yeosang stood there, a determined and pleading look on his face, the elder vampire caved. 

“Fine. But let her know that she will be expected to pull her weight. She can stay with you and Yunho until we figure out other living arrangements,” he conceded, huffing an annoyed sigh that held little weight. “Now go tell the others.” 

Yeosang beamed, practically bouncing toward the door and flinging it open. Wooyoung, who had just started up the front porch steps, startled and fell back against San.

“Y/N is coming to live with us!” He blurted out, and the pair shared a confused look. “It’s a whole long story. Speaking of, have either of you seen her? I can’t wait to tell her.”

Wooyoung recovered before San did, blinking back into himself and sharing a bright smile with his friend. “That’s great! I can’t wait for her to meet everyone else. Sannie, I think you’ll  really like her. I haven’t seen her around today; is she here?”

“She went to gather her things from the hunters’ stronghold. She should be back any minute.” Something unpleasant coiled in Yeosang’s gut, and he frowned. “You didn’t happen to see any hunters on your way back in, did you?”

San and Wooyoung shared a look that had Yeosang’s blood running cold. “We did,” San confirmed. “They were headed away from here, though. We didn’t bother with them.” 

Behind him, someone stirred, and Yeosang spun on his heel, eyes pleading with Hongjoong as he approached. “She said she’d be in danger if she ran into other hunters. We have to look for her.”

Resolutely, Hongjoong nodded, turning back over his shoulder. “Yunho, get Jongho. San, Wooyoung, go get Seonghwa and Mingi. We’ll head toward their stronghold and work outward—stay in pairs, stay out of sight, and do not eng—”

Before the leader could finish his sentence, a sharp scream echoed through the forest, and Yeosang’s eyes widened. He went rigid for a moment, keen ears twitching as they scanned the forest, tracking the echoes until he could pinpoint a near exact location of origin. He was moving before he could think, dashing down the path and into the treeline. Dodging trees and leaping over fallen branches as he tore through the brush, the warning shouts of his coven fell on deaf ears. They would follow, he knew. He only slowed for a moment when he caught the scent of your blood in the air, tripping over his own feet before pushing forward with even more purpose. 

In hindsight, he should have realized that your familiar yell was not one of fear, as he had been so worried about. He should have taken even a moment to breathe. 

You were still upright when he barreled into the clearing, wrestling with another hunter for what looked to be a blade. Your face was twisted in a grimace, desperation and anger marring the features he was so used to seeing alight with joy. He called your name and you turned, the panic-stricken look you sent him sending confusion and hurt lancing through him. He was here to help; shouldn’t you be happy to see him?

In hindsight, he should have realized why your cry was so familiar to his ears. Maybe he would have registered that it had been full of pure, white-hot rage; the same rage you directed at him during your first meeting.

Time slowed, and with the snap of a wire, Yeosang understood. 

The bolt burned as it pierced through his ribs, and his vision went white with the pain as he toppled forward, falling to his hands and knees with a shout of his own. This time, there was pain in your exclamation; he couldn’t quite make out the words, but he heard the break in your voice that he knew, all too well, meant tears were brimming. He tasted iron as he coughed, distantly registering the shadow of black that splattered the snow in front of him. 

It had been a while since he’d seen his own blood.

More shouts echoed as he fell to his knees, vision going black for a moment. When his sight returned, you were in front of him, and Yeosang’s brow furrowed. Humans like you, as far as he knew, couldn’t move that fast. He glanced over your shoulder, gasping—when had the coven gotten here?

Another blink, and he was on his back, staring up at your distressingly heartbroken expression. Your hands cupped his cheeks for a beat, and he melted into the fleeting feeling, grumbling in disapproval as they streaked down his neck to his sides. About halfway to his hips, they stopped, and the pain that sparked through him had him coming back to his senses, a shout choked behind his teeth.

“Leave it,” he hissed, and you made a pained noise. The iron crossbow bolt had embedded itself firmly and, despite his protests, you gave it another tug. This time, Yeosang shouted, bolting upright and batting your hand away from him. “Barbed,” he croaked, falling back to his hands and knees. “You’ll rip me up if you take it out.” 

“And it’ll poison you slowly if I don’t,” you urged, reaching for him. “You can heal the injuries, please.”

Yeosang frowned deeply, eyes squeezing shut as he took stock of his body. “Not… quickly enough.” 

“Please let me try,” you begged, hand settling below his wound. “Please give yourself a chance. Let me give you a chance, Yeosang, please.”

Oh, how weak he was for you. 

Swallowing thickly, he screwed his eyes shut and nodded, rolling once more onto his back with a wince. “If it pleases you.” 

“None of this pleases me,” you shot back, choking on a sob around your words. Your grip solid around the arrow’s shaft, you gave a strong tug, and Yeosang shouted through gritted teeth as it came free. “I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry,” you breathed, cupping his face.

“No more… apologies. This is not your fault,” he muttered between coughs. His mouth felt wetter than usual and he turned, dizzy as he watched more black mar the white ground. “Oh.” 

“Stay still, Sangie, please, let your magic work. Don’t make things worse. Just… stay here. It’ll be okay.” 

You didn’t sound sure. Yeosang huffed a laugh, coughed. “I won’t heal… fast enough,” he muttered, rolling once more onto his back. “H’ngjoong s-said… You can stay with us. Make sure he keeps… ‘s word.” 

His eyes fluttered shut. He was so tired all of a sudden. Distantly, he could hear you calling to him, could feel your hands on his cheeks. He smiled, leaning into the warmth of your palms, a stark contrast to the chill surrounding him. The world was turning to white noise; Yeosang sighed. 

One voice, familiar and filled with venom, cut through the roar. He was just used to listening for his Captain, after all, and he heard him clear as day now.

“You have just declared a war.”

Everything went quiet.

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[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

DF Posting: KingChannels - Year 3

Here we are again. Much belated on account of me having an awful head cold for most of the past two weeks.

The beginning of the defensive layer, which, as time has gone on, has only gotten less solid. Regardless I think having room to retreat behind corners when archers come a knocking will be helpful.

We left last year with the trade depot Almost complete, and the defensive layer, starting up. Happy to say we made a lot of progress on both, but a lot happened so we'll start from the top.

Early on the elven caravan arrived; I personally have no abnormal distaste for the elves (even if selecting everything in a bin except the bin is obnoxious), but we didn't have any trade goods because I'd not decided to, you know, make any, on account of sheets being wanted next year. So we didn't really get anything, not that they brought much. Not even very many animals. Very dissapointing honestly. Didn't even get a screenshot.

Our starter library. We probably won't need it anymore after we start getting the tower constructed but that could be a while. I set a scholar to work here after I made it as well, and installed a table later on.

In the meantime we made a starter library for our scholarly pursuits to begin in earnest, rather then waiting for the tower to start construction. It's small, but it'll work. We assigned Ingish Arzesidan as scholar, our old woodcutter. She honestly loves it and is constantly getting good thoughts from debating and pondering, though these are somewhat offset by her bad thoughts from not practicing a craft. Thems the breaks. Around this time I also started making clothes from our pig tail fiber, to ensure our in fort child would have clothing. Also so anyone whose clothes rot off can get a new set.

Our first scholar.

After all that hubbub we almost immediately got a migrant wave; 9 dwarves, 2 melee dwarves for the military, and a High Master Surgeon, very nice. This reminded me we needed to make a hospital. My idea is to build it on the ground floor, likely near the cistern, hopefully out of the way of any trouble in the event anyone needs to be brought to it during combat. It'll also make getting the water from the cistern to the nearly required hospital well less of a pain in the butt.

The first two are our melee dwarves and the last is the surgeon.

Around the time of the migrant wave we got another Child Strange Mood; it finished around the time we finished sorting otu the migrant wave as Ablel Regezar only grabbed two apple wood logs. He made, adorably, a toy axe, Desiszisang. During the course of this year I caught several dwarf children playing with it so at least it's getting use!

The fort's most popular toy. And... only toy, now that I'm thinking about it.

Of note; all this happened in Early Spring. This was a very rapid fire series of events, but things slow down a bit henceforth. Not before finding a mysterious vomit trail from the trade depot to the first floor of the fortress entrance. Probably a dwarf that'd been underground long enough to get cave adapted. I didn't see any sign of combat, anyway, so it's not an injury at least. Regardless the fort now has its first streak of green mess. There will be many more.

Every fort, by the end of the run, is usually just covered in blood and puke. This is small potatoes.

Taking up the next large swathe of time was mostly me digging to find ores, rather then for fortress construction, with the completion of a stockpile I was digging near the metal processing area to store ore and coal. During this time I'd noticed unhappy dwarves were looking pretty intimidating, I think it hit a high of 16 which is more then a third of our fort. You've gotta nip this in the bud so in a mostly ineffectual attempt to do that I made some meals. Mostly quarry bush leaves, but higher food quality = happier dwarf. Unfortunately we don't really have a lot of edible wildlife, I've only seen ravens and they're too small to butcher and a pain to catch besides. Maybe one day we'll be eating raven eggs, but it seems like a bit too much trouble for now.

all of my mining floors start like this. I want people to be able to move through them well in the event I use them for something more important then burial site.

We hit Lignite and Iron shortly below where I started digging exploratorily. Very good sign; if we can find flux we've got steel, which is fantastic. That'll handily take care of most of our fortress defense needs, at least as far as we can hope for. We also found kaolinite which will make us some high quality ceramic stuff when I set it up. I also intend to use the exploratory digging tunnels for most of our burial slabs; it just feels appropriate to me.

During all this, the work on the defensive layer was moving along. The windows on the left are Gem windows, and we'll be layering some fortifications over hte front of them to ensure noone just breaks in through those windows. Eventually patrols or watch animals will keep an eye out through there to let us know when goblins or kobolds are skulking around. Hopefully, anyway.

It was around this time I realized my military squads had Never Stopped Training. I looked into a bit of stuff regarding the new UI and it turns out they've been on manual training, never stop mode, for like a year now. That's probably why everyone's so pissed off. I fix that and indeed the bad moods at the fort start dropping, thankfully. THe summer migrant wave also hit, 8 dwarves. A high master metalcrafter, a high master furnace operator, and a middling papermaker. Normally the papermaker would be on hauling duty, but given we're making a library... hmm. Two randos from the wave got drafted into our military squad making an even 10. Training can Really start now. Especially now that they're doing advanced training and teaching and sparring and such. They don't do that on manual evidently.

Once more, oru new Local Celebrities. I also assigned another dwarf to scholarship around this time I believe; Kadol Usenvabok. We'll probably worry more about the scholars when the tower goes up because if I keep posting dwarf thoughts we're gonna hit the image cap.

Seconds after this migrant wave the high master metalcrafter enters a secretive mood. Looks like we're getting a legendary metalcrafter. Honestly sort've stinks; he was allmost there anyway. Regardless, he goes to work. After some livestock butchery, he makes an Artifact Silver Chain out of Horse Leather, Chert Blocks, a Silver Bar, and cut bloodstones. Pretty nice sounding, and we can definitely find a use for it somewhere. Probably put it in a well, but maybe we can find some sort've novel use for it in the tower. It Is silver after all.

Pretty Good.

As we moved into autumn, I realized we were running out of food for some reason. Had the realization we weren't growing any plump helmets in autumn for some reason, so I fixed that. Also set about to making another still, as the population was getting quite hefty and a single still probably wouldn't be cutting it for much longer. As time went on it stabilized, and later in the year restocked itself so we're good again. Crisis Averted.

Shortly before the caravan arrived there were officially enough farmers in the fort to qualify for a farmer's guild. I immediately set about making one of the rooms I Dug out for specifically this purpose into a farmer's guild, and everyone was happy about it. Farmer dwarves will talk about farming in there, along with just generally socializing. It'll slowly increase their skills in various farming aptitudes. It's great.

The Dwarven caravan arrives annnnnd I forgot to make trade goods. God damn. I quickly hammer out some rock rings and buy some iron bars, using them to make a weapon for the militia. Need stuff sooner then later, and we're not exactly short on iron. The liason requested Amulets, which is great for us and I Immediately set on that to avoid this problem next year. I make our standard selection of military grade metals and silver.

Around this time enough work on the cistern got done for me to be comfortable draining the pond, finally. I wanted to get constructed stuff in there sooner rather then later because... I like constructed stuff. No dirty hole water here.

the top floor hadn't been walled in yet but I did take care of that over the rest of the year.

I love a bit of fluid mechanics in DF so this excited me. I've actually not done a lot of it, but I love the concept. We'll probably need another pool or two before it'll have enough loaded in to make its way to the hospital well, but it rains all the time here, so it shouldn't be too long. Since we've got enough standing water in the cistern too (about a full z level), we can just dump in whatever we can get and it'll be stored too, so that's nice.

Anyway the autumn migrant wave hits annnnnnd we got two dwarves. I forgot I had the migrant cap lowered to a pitiful 50 due to a previous fort I ran, so that's my bad, Yet Again. I raise it to 100. The two dwarves were not notable in any way. I also assign a scribe to our library to copy the books we do have.

As we trundle on towards winter, a child is posessed, which has become a commonplace enough occurrence that I honestly wasn't particularly interested. More livestock died to feed the leather requirement, and he got wood, bones and leather.

Before he finished his artifact, however, a werehare broke into the depot. He immediately bites down on Logem Urvaddatan, our freshly recruited high master surgeon, and shakes him to bits.

So much for that hospital. KingChannelses first fatality. Brutal.

There were two militadwarves nearby at the time so they immediately set to attacking the werehare (with picks?? why do you people have picks equipped you're not miners), and he goes down pretty unceremoniously, being an unarmored, roughly human size, enemy.

During the scuffle however, a militadwarf was bitten. This means they are now a werehare, and they Will be hostile to their fellow dwarves when they turn.

The bitten militiadwarf on the left, Iden Eshtanmubun and more competent combat on the right.

Me, not willing to create isolation chambers for bitten dwarves, and not wanting to have to deal with this guy popping off every quarter of a year, elect to banish him. Iden Eshtanmubun has no family in the fort, so nobody is going with him. He's upset, but what's he gonna do, come back as a werehare to take revenge? Hopefully not. He was actually also a aprt of the wave the surgeon came in on, so I guess the wave was just cursed. We'll have to keep an eye on Ablel Dumatdeleth, I Suppose.

After all of the drama and our first death, the child finishes his artifact, a horse bone pick. Maybe someone will actually use it. I kind've don't care right now kid I'm sorry.

I am normally quite happy about equippable artifacts, even if they're shit, but a pick is pretty hard to equip on purpose and they all behave the same regardless of material.

After processing all this I realized our defensive layer is pretty much done, our wall is done, our trade depot is done, it's time to build that overhang. I don't think the werehare climbed in over the wall but better safe then sorry. Unfortunaetly, while trying to do this, I realize my wall is too close to the edge of the map to build an overhang. So we have to rebuild half of it. Ugh.

In the shadow of death we find.... more menial labor. As usual, I guess.

I immediately stat making another layer of the wall on the relevant sides inside the fort. We'll worry about tearing down the outside layer later. I'd rather have a wall people can climb over then no wall at all. This in and of itself takes about til the end of the season, so we'll carry on with other stuff, though the death was the last major event of the year.

Other then some boring logistical stuff (we ran out of chert I can't color coordinate until I mine more rarrrr), the rest of the year was pretty quiet. We found some Green Jade, a 20 value gem, which is Very nice, we found more iron on the living floor, while expanding it for future waves, which I mined out, and our scribe made a copy of our one book, The Way of the Path of the Moon. Or whatever. It was something like that.

As the year drew to a close, the baby born in fort grew to a child and learned to walk on his own. He is no longer at risk of being used as a shield by his mother, and they ran out into the snow and immediately got pissed off about being snowed on. Thanks kid. She can now harvest and haul stuff, so she'll be a minor help for the next.... 15 years. Frankly if we see her grow to be an adult that alone is a fantastic run.

Baby Lolor Rimtarilir, like all dwarves, immediately knows where the clothes are upon gaining locomotion. She's also pissed off because of the snow. Get in line Lolor.

Along with the baby becoming independent, our initial Scholar, Ingish, became an astronomor. He's officially studied the book about the moon's path enough to gain a title. Our mental pursuits are looking up.

A monumentous occasion given the goal of our fort. We need more eggheads. They're chopping a tree right now but rest assured they are very intelligent.

And that's that. A death, a lot of construction and a working cistern; that will continue, but we are pulling up on the end of Surface construction not involving the tower, at least, maybe another couple of years? Hopefully we'll have sterling silver production in hand by then.

Next years goals are finally get that cistern loaded up with water and giving our dwarves an indoor well, Finish The Damn Wall, and hopefully find flux and start steel production. Also hopefully we find silver. I guess if we can't find any silver on site a ceramic tower might be good. And very silly. Same color anyway. We'll see.

Until Next Year. Our fortunes rise and fall together.

[astralfandoms]

i wanna hear your thoughts!!! i wanna hear about chip and the override. <- i also have the override as like. a whole thing in my au and i think it would be funny if they started acting like they're gonna fight and then just. fell asleep in 2 recliners like middle-aged-dads lol

ALSO THE HOSE TAIL IS SO GOOD AND I LOVE HOW IN THE ONE WITH COSMO HIS FACE IS DESIGNED. HE'S THE MOON AND THERE'S A CRESCENT ON HIS FACE ABSOLUTE PEAK!!!!

You have unleashed the autism /hj

Okay so I have the headcanon that Chip grew up in a rich family who liked having a smart autistic child but hated the other symptoms (ex. getting overstimulated, having emotional dsyregulation) so would punish any sign of autistic symptoms.

Which is how Override (at the time, a nameless alter) formed: as a protector/prosecutor to keep Chip from experiencing/remembering violence whenever the situation called for it.

It was extremely active until Chip moved out of the house in college, where it went dormant...

Until Craig, who didn't know that there were multiple users, installed the Override into it, giving it its name.

So Override became active again, but this time Chip could semi-remember the switches but wasn't aware that this was a pre-existing issue resurfacing.

Eventually, Chip ends up being forced to go on vacation (mostly because even by C.O.G standards he was getting too banged up) and during that time period, Override is able to calm down and ends up figuring out how to be a protector/prosecutor in a bit of a healthier way (also made its existence known to Chip).

The two are still adapting to being a newly discovered system but they have some help from friends.

(fun fact i actually have a fic on Ao3 that while not focusing more on chip/override's backstory it does talk about override's existence and how they act vs how chip acts)

(said fic also features a rare pair and if you know you know /silly)

Also everyone loves the fire hose tail and honestly I'm glad!!! The reason why I added it to his design was that I wanted to add to the firefighter aesthetic and I'm glad it turned out good!!

Also this bit from his cogs.ink profile never left my brain

ALSO THANK YOU FOR NOTICING THAT ABOUT COSMO'S DESIGN!!! I decided to go more for a general celestial theming because I thought it would look more inch-resting!!

Also I made it so that he has blues on him to show that he's not entirely happy with being brought into C.O.G.S :3

Sorry if that got a bit darker than expected but thank you for asking!!!

If you wanna know more about specific characters or specific headcanons, feel free to ask!!!

< has to be told that they're allowed to share headcanons in order to share them

[bluef00t]

Finally collecting these in a post—Atomic Robo robotswap ideas. This was more of a character design challenge than a real AU, but the concept kind of got away from me.

Rambling design notes + a couple panel redraws + some ideas I had for Helsingard and ALAN 1.0 under the cut:

This idea spiraled out of an old sketch by Wegner of real-boy Robo as a genetics experiment. I'm interpreting that as basically Wolverine minus the animal motifs (and generally much more well-adjusted).

I tried to mimic more elements of his bot design; for example the hair silhouette and the thick blue-tinted glasses, swapped for goggles as his lifestyle got more active. I guess sensitive eyes are a side effect of his mutations. (The classic superhero forehead curl on babyrobo has no design justification, I just couldn't resist.) His appearance would make the public of the '20s a little uncomfortable with seeing him as Tesla's son. Which feels very thematically appropriate.

I'm still calling him "Robo" because it feels weird not to, though it would be a nickname. Appropriate for a guy who never sleeps; plausibly derived from Robert/Ratko. (The American name would be how he's introduced to the public; the Serbian one used casually by Tesla.*) Honestly, it seems in-character for him to put down Robo as his actual legal name when he finally got that chance.

*Things I found out after picking these names for their superficial resemblance to "Robo": Robert means "famous, shining" and Ratomir means "defender of peace"; literally "war for peace". Definitely an affectionately ironic moniker for a son so determined to be an action hero. Though dear monolingual Robo probably wouldn't catch on until decades after Tesla's death... Well, now I've gone and made myself sad.

The action scientists are mostly an excuse to still draw robots. Let's say they're Robo's big midlife crisis project after realizing he was going to outlive his entire first team and not think about it too hard.

Vik (inspired by Robby the Robot) is the oldest of the models. He's optimized for processing power, which is how you get a robot that will try to suggest purely hypothetical (but mathematically sound!) solutions to urgent real-world problems. And enjoys TTRPGs of Turing-complete levels of complexity.

Lang (inspired by Robo) came shortly after, more optimized for the "action" part of action science. Being made of metal does wonders for your recoil management. (I know she hasn't had the hair buns in 10+ years, but that's what I was trying to do with the "antennae".)

Foley (inspired by Alan) is the newest model, optimized for human-robot interaction. Getting wifi installed in her head early on had the unexpected side effect of making her really good at understanding networks of all kinds.

BRN-3 wasn't built to be sentient. He's just a lab geological survey bot that began showing signs of sapience one day and attributes his own "enlightenment" to the "crystals" he'd been studying. This is obviously bullshit but nobody can give a better explanation, so...

Jenkins is literally just the Terminator, except his evil future is vampires instead of AI. He was sent back to kill Robo, which clearly didn't work, so they talked it out and now he just hangs around Tesladyne on high alert for anything that might kick off the apocalypse.

(I have no idea where Ada, Ben, and Koa fit in here, but I might come back to them later. Using their Agents of CHANGE power suits as android designs felt like cheating.)

Not included in these drawings are Helsingard and ALAN, but I'm considering switching around parts of their premises, too.

Helsingard was a Nazi supercomputer meant to calculate the perfect world-conquering strategy. Instead, it realized that Germany's loss was imminent and hid copies of itself around the planet. Every once in a while, someone accidentally boots up a copy and it tries to take over. In the modern age it's a total dice roll as to whether this will be horrifying (what major infrastructure isn't computerized these days?) or just kind of pathetic (it's too old to understand the internet and can easily get itself trapped in an office printer spitting toner and stacks of paper that read BEHOLD HELSINGARD).

ALAN (potential rename pending; the Turing connection is rather lost in the version I'm going with for now) is the world's second successful "unkillable" genetic experiment, a govt project during the Cold War to ensure that the last man alive in a nuclear winter scenario would be British. But it turns out telling a guy he's the next stage in human evolution and sealing him in a bunker for decades to await a chance to inherit the earth which doesn't come isn't great for his sense of compassion or morality. Eventually, ALAN decides to hurry things along before we inferior humans end the world in a less convenient way, and Robo has to... well, you know this part.

It turns out there was a secret phase 2 to this plan, which would have been to populate the solar system with perfect immortal mind-networked clones of himself. The single under-baked clone that it does manage to spit out before being shut down is our Alan :] He needs someone to look after him while his crazy healing powers fill in the missing chunks of his body and brain, and he didn't get a full memory upload from ALAN, so it's free son boy!

No changes were made to Dr. Dinosaur. He's already perfect.

[unhonestlymirror]

Belaruthian woman on the Pink Soup Fest

Satirical video quotes translated (not everything, some jokes have super local context and would require at least a separate post for explanation, and I'm lazy):

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: What kind of fest those Europeans have this time?

Operator: Šaltibarščiai fest

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Šalsh- what? Sounds like a spell from Harry Potter

Operator: Šal - ti - bar - ščiai

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Шалцібаршчай!

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: *transforms into a badly censored naked body from Internet*

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Oops.

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: And now our Belaruthian chaładnik turns into soulless Lithuanian cold borshch.

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Why do we call it chaładnik in Belarus? because it’s really hot here in the summer, and chaładnik chaładzić you (cools you down). And here, it’s cold all year round, rainy, grey, and cold. What kind of cold borshch are we even talking about??? Lucky me for taking an umbrella today. They should have made this fest in winter!!!🙄🙄🙄

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Now, if there was such a holiday in Belarus, then everyone would be given chaładnik FOR FREE!! and here, they have to stand in line and pay for it!

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Don't pay attention that I'm in pink today... it's so to say... to blend in with the local crowd, so to speak. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.💪💪💪

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Lithuanians associate pink colour with cold soup, while Belaruthians associate red and green with stability and prosperity!🫡🫡🫡

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: To be honest, it looks like some kind of gender party. Lithuanians apparently have only girls being born, right?

Local Lithuanians (including men): ???? :D :D :D ?????

***

Woman signed as "hospitable Lithuanian": *with heavy Lithuanian accent* Now, if you want, you can sit there, take a number, there are free seats there. Enjoy the holiday! :D

Marharyta Liaŭchuk (out of her character): Thank you. Thank you very much.

***

Installation with cold soup: *speaks in Lithuanian in a deep sexy male voice*

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Awwww😏😏😏😏 Look, it's the cold soup for adults 😏😏😏😏🥵🥵🥵 come on, children are watching... Shame! let's get out of here.

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: And here, they have the food trucks! Lithuanians came up with a really good idea! No paddy wagons are needed, and there will be no need to catch anyone, zmahary will line up themselves! [Zmahary - a slur for Belaruthian people made by the Lukashenko's regime]

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Tell me, do you have pepper gas on your menu?

A Lithuanian cook from a food truck: *laughs* No???

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Well damn! And we have it in Belarus! This is a free business idea for you: 3% of the proceeds are then mine!

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: If I know a person well, then I always eat chaładnik with them only with kefir!

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Tell me, do you prefer cold borshch with water or kefir?

The Lithuanian woman: Cold borshch on water is something very strange for me... I have never tried this and only eat it with kefir.

Another Lithuanian woman: Our kefir is the best!

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Hey, please say "Sasha, forgive me".

Lithuanian woman: "Sasha, forgive me"?

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: "Bring me back home!"

Lithuanian woman: "Bring me back home"???

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: *tastes šaltibarščiai*

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Nah, something's wrong here... it tastes like some kind of democracy.🙄🙄 but it's okay! Because we have this! *takes out Belaruthian kefir* *pours it*

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Ah! Now, there's not a drop of democracy here! :D Because this kefir is elite, thirty years old!

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: *sings along with "I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world"

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: *sees a dill* Look! Look what kind of flowers Lithuanians have. :D

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Oh look! Now they're gonna sing their anthem!

The crowd: *throws hands up* ooooOOOOOOOOO!!!

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: "Oooooooo"... This is their anthem, by the way. Easy to remember. "Oooooooo..." And where is the "s" in the end, huh? I don't understand. They end everything with “s”. Say it "Ooossss"!🇯🇵🇯🇵🇯🇵

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: We are next to the slide from which everyone is descending into a huge plate of cold borshch! Europeans! you better descend from the sky back to earth!

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: Write in the comments: What do you think, is the cold pink soup Belaruthian or Lithuanian? but I warn you! those who write "Lithuanian" will be blocked!

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: There is such a tradition that in order to return somewhere, you need to throw a coin in this place. but since I don't have a Belaruthian coin, I’ll have to do it with potatoes... left from šaltibarščiai. So I’ll throw it, so I can come back next year and eat more for free.*throws potatoes in the river while looking at camera*

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: *speaks her scenario with the Šaltibarščiai car on the background*

Lithuanian woman: Excuse me, maybe I can tell you something?

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: What do you want to tell me?

Lithuanian woman: This is our car. :D

Lithuanian woman: *promotes the car for an hour while Marharyta Liaŭchuk stands speechless*

***

Marharyta Liaŭchuk: *in English* So... we call it chaładnik... it means... the cold soup. :D :D :D

LRT reporter (Lithuanian): *nods seriously while taking an interview from Marharyta*

[gracefireheart]

Alright, spoiler time, so don't read if you haven't watch Critical Role's c3 ep53.

Got my eyes on y'all 👁👁

Alright, so, yes, what FCG did was reckless. But, I'm still happy that they chose to do what they did, and that they didn't rely on the coin this time. It's a reckless choice, but still a choice that they made themself and that they can learn from.

And it will take quite a lot of time for them to learn and make better choices without rellying on other people/objects. Especially considering it has just been, what, over a month, maybe two months since FCG learned they were an aeormaton after they had thought they were just a subservient automaton for around 3-5 years?

And they have learned at least a bit since then by choosing to learn how to bake and have an oven installed into them. And also with them wanting to try and follow the Changebringer, despite the only sign they got that the goddess truly sees them was when Pike pointed at the glowing coin when she checked whether they had a soul or not, and despite how most of BH- besides Orym- don't really follow any gods so they can't learn too much from them about how to follow a god. And also how they're telling the others now whether they're highly stressed or not instead of just saying "I'm fine".

So yeah, they've learned a bit, but still need to learn more. Just like everyone. And that's gonna take some time and patience to learn.

In the end of that situation though, team Uthodurn did come out of it a bit more confident. Maybe a bit more hopeful even.

It was a reckless choice that could've potentially been done in a different way, but it still helped. Especially when FCG got their friends by their side to help them through their choice.

Anyways, I hope this rambling was coherent in some way lbclhflgsslklhdts and I hope y'all have a nice rest of the day/night :]

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER & THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

ABSOLUTE OBEDIENCE x KING'S GAME - PART 4    

━

??? : Wake up, Emma! 

??? : Emma, wake up!!

EMMA : ...Huh...?

BURN : Oh, you're finally awake! Thank goodness!

EMMA : Burn? Sparrow? Liebe? 

SPARROW : Are you okay, Emma? You fainted...

LIEBE : If you had slept any longer I would have had to wake you with a kiss. Unfortunate as it is that I didn't get to kiss you, I'm glad you are okay~

EMMA : Yeah, thank you guys. But where are we...?

Observing the unfamiliar room, I spotted mysterious monitors set up in the corners. And on the far wall there were three doors. All of which were a different color. Red, blue, and yellow. 

EMMA : The last thing I remember, I went to the hall to participate in the game, then strange smoke appeared, and then...

BURN : After you guys inhaled that smoke you all passed out and the floor opened up swallowing you guys in!

EMMA : The floor opened up?

SPARROW : Yeah, it turned into a slope and you all slid down it. We followed to catch you as you fell. 

LIEBE : We fell through the ceiling into this room. Of course, I made sure to cushion your fall so you wouldn't incur any injuries. 

EMMA : Thank you for that. What about everyone else?

VICTOR : Hey, Emma. We're here, just trying to figure out what's going on. 

EMMA : Victor!? I'm so glad you're safe!

YMIR : Talk about a rough welcome. If I'd fallen on my face, I would burn this whole place to the ground...

LEN : That asshole! The one who planned this game is going straight on my revenge list!!

Exploring the room to assess the situation, we found several other men lying unconscious.

BURN : Six guys besides us. So a total of ten people are in this room. We got pretty lucky, you know? It seems there were multiple exits at the end of that slope. So, all of us being together is already a good sign! 

YMIR : So the other participants, close to fifty people, were probably allocated to random rooms like us?

EMMA : It's likely.

VICTOR : Hm, I'm curious about the whereabouts of the others too, however, more importantly, if you take a look at the wall there are three doors. Can't we proceed through them?

YMIR : Wow, those are some really tacky doors.

LEN : Should we go through 'em? We can't just sit on our asses all day, right?

Without a care in the world, Len went to open the red door, but...

LEN : Crap. No good. It's locked. 

EMMA : The yellow one is locked as well.

VICTOR : The blue one too.

LEN : Goddamn it!! Open up you assholes!!

SPARROW : Oh, um...Please don't get violent! 

YMIR : Huh...The windows are barred shut as well. And the glass seems to be specially reinforced.

The other men who were trapped with us also began to wake up one by one, frantically banging on the doors and windows.

??? : Everyone, please be quiet.

EMMA : !?

A male host appeared on the monitors installed in the four corners of the room.

MALE 1 : You asshole!! Let us out already!! 

MALE 2 : Who the hell do you think you are!?

HOST : I understand that you may be confused by the sudden turn of events. But what you should aim for is to become the king, and only that. From now on, only those who overcome several trials will be eligible to be crowned the king, ruling over this banquet.

YMIR : This is a pre-recorded video, isn't it?

VICTOR : Probably. Either that or they are intentionally ignoring us. I even blew a kiss at the screen and there was no reaction whatsoever. 

LEN : Are you an idiot!?

EMMA : Wait. Did you guys hear the sound of a door unlocking!?

LEN : It came from the red one! 

MALE 3 : It's red!!

MALE 4 : Move! I'm going first!!

MALE 5 : Outta my way!!

The three men simultaneously rushed for the red door. 

EMMA : They're running with so much force...What should we do? If we don't run for it, they're gonna beat us to it.

YMIR : No. We wait. It's best to see what happens when they open the door. There might be a trap behind it. 

HOST : Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention~ Be careful not to rush. You don't know what awaits you on the other side~

With a flash of a menacing smile, the video on the monitor disappeared. 

EMMA : What was that..!?

SPARROW : I-I don't know...

BURN : Looks like the battle for the door has come to an end!

One of the men who had been involved in the heated argument over the door managed to open it. At the same time, the floor the men were standing on gave way and they all plummeted into a deep pit.

MEN : Ahhhhh!!!

The screams of the men faded into the dark depths. 

YMIR : It seems quite deep.

VICTOR : Indeed.

LEN : This asshole is trying to kill us! This is way beyond a game!

[keithal]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written :)

oh hello! beloved enterprisery this is my fave game to do of all time, so thank u for this :D three things before we get into it: (1) out of respect for u, the first two will be iwtv fics, (2) most of these are my least popular works LMAO and (3) this got pretty long. sorry abt that.

hell and you: modern day devils minion w old man daniel and armand. sometimes i forget how much i like this fic and then i'll remember "i wrote a fic abt armand being daniel's sugar daddy, LOL." it's very funny to me personally. i especially love this bit i threw in:

He fills the apartment with the smell of his cologne and something underneath that it can’t quite mask. A smell like water left to stand too long or flowers left too long in a vase.

i like the idea of vampires smelling like death. i can forgive this tho bc i think in the later installments of the vc anne rice said vampires smell like mayo? which is ... well. at least much more attention-grabbing than what i did.

damn these vampires: an armandaniel fic that takes place immediately after the season finale. this fic was majorly inspired by a thought that woke me up from deep sleep. armand and daniel have history. armand (i'm guessing) blocked daniel's memories. but didn't wipe them. daniel can't access them, but they're still there. so how funny would it be if daniel was jealous of louis being w armand but has no fucking idea why.

He smokes one on his walk back to the penthouse, thinking of how he had stood there in the aftermath, staring at Rashid—Armand—hovering over them like fucking Mary Poppins, his hand interlocked with Louis’s, and—instead of doing what a Pulitzer-winning, seasoned journalist of his caliber should’ve been doing in the face of being this royally fucked over—absurdly, inexplicably, Daniel noted the position of Armand’s thumb: on top.

i make myself laugh.

keep on keeping on, dean winchester: deancas s13 au where jack is a baby. i can't actually think of a part of it that stands out without any context (which, in my opinion, is a good sign), but i can say that i enjoy this part quite a bit:

Friday morning, as they’re making their way through the sticks toward the interstate, Sam says, “Hey, guess what I bought,” and holds up a dusty Sing-A-Long CD. “Fuck no,” Dean says. “We are not listening to Metallica all the way to Sioux Falls with a baby in the back.” “He likes it! Right, Jack?” he calls over his shoulder. Jack makes an incandescent gurgling sound. “See? Kid knows any music made after 1979 sucks ass.” “Singing in early childhood is important, Dean. It helps kids with language development, memory, and emotional regulation, and it entrains their social visual behavior.” “Thanks, Spock. You’re the pride of the Federation.” “Dean.” “Dude, I’m just saying, we can entrain his social visual behavior with the classics. We don’t need that baby crap. It’s the 21st century. All we need is Zep, Cash, some AC/DC—”

i worked really hard to capture dean's voice--like, harder than i've ever worked to scrub my own voice from a piece of writing. the amount of references and sayings in this bitch? sheesh.

i'm also very happy with how the relationship btwn jack and dean developed. one person who commented made a very intelligent observation that even i hadn't realized: i made dean see himself in jack. and it makes sense, doesn't it? jack's mom died bc of the supernatural; he wasn't allowed to process this loss at all; and he was left in the care of a father who'd lost a spouse. a father whose grief made him mean and treated his son like an object (hence the "it" pronouns used in the beginning).

anyway! very happy w how it turned out :)

long live the kingslayer: an elriel mission fic. i've spoken abt it like. a million times by now. and i still love it <3 there's just so much real estate to work w when it comes to elain. she's so underdeveloped that anything u say abt her is almost always pure conjecture. it was so much fun to take a character i loved so dearly and write a story where she was never punished for being who she is.

i'm still very fond of this part in particular:

“Wait,” he said before she could leave. His voice was nearly as hesitant as his expression, flickering between uncertainty and a strange, boyish shyness that was captivating on him. He reached into his leathers—where, she couldn’t know—and pulled out a small container. “Here,” he said, placing it in her hands. She opened it. Inside was a smelly, yellow ointment. “A salve,” he explained, “for your hands.” An unnameable feeling seized her. She hadn’t thought he noticed, never dared mention it out of fear of what he’d think, and this whole time he’d been carrying this salve with him. A salve for her hands. It was a terrible idea. She knew it as soon as it came to her, but she grabbed Azriel by the ears anyway, drew him down to her height, and kissed his cheek. She felt his skin go warm, and she imagined how surprised he must look, how shy. When she pulled back, she saw that his face was indeed dark with color, avoiding her gaze. Simultaneously pleased at her reaction and embarrassed by it. He was magical, she thought, and she loved him dearly. Loved him so much that it broke her heart. “Thank you,” she said. “This will be invaluable.” Finally, a smile from him. Unable to resist it, she brushed the back of her hand over his cheek, fond, and said, “I’ll leave you to rest.”

a lot of acotar fans hate it when ppl write azriel to be soft and shy and not particularly dark at all. me, personally? i think that’s boring. azriel was born into an abusive and violent home and suffered unimaginable torture at a very young age. he developed powers meant to protect him from the horror of his daily life, and those powers made him a great spymaster/torturerer. but it's so obvious that azriel hates his position within the court. he's starved of intimacy and tenderness. he has an extremely reserved and kind nature. it's a much more meaningful to have a character like that find someone who recognizes his gentleness and desire for gentleness in him and offers it to him. those characteristics don't make him any less of a man.

god never wrote a good play in his life: a god/chuck character study written in second person. i genuinely don't know how the toxic sibling relationship btwn amara and chuck doesn't make more people absolutely fucking insane. this story is chuck-centered, obviously, but i don't think anyone realizes WHY i did that. i don't like chuck! i didn't like writing from his perspective! i did it bc all of supernatural is chuck-centered. even when it isn't quote-unquote "his" story, it's still his. the point of the whole thing is for the reader to do what chuck/the show doesn't: break out of what's being told to u! look at the other characters! namely, look at amara.

chuck tries to scrub her from the story completely. the fic is 3k long, yet chuck doesn't mention amara at ALL unless she's onscreen. and even when she is onscreen, we can't trust a fucking thing he says! as exemplified here:

Maybe that wasn’t how it happened. Maybe you and your Sister were perfectly capable of creation. It would be absurd if you weren’t. Surely it wasn’t possible that you couldn’t create anything together. If you were in harmony, that should have implied you, together, would excel at it. She was an eccentric mind, designing balls of gas and entire solar systems that resembled you, right where all your rings met. (The most terrifying thing She came up with was the collapse of a star, where it became a gaping black mouth that swallowed everything in sight. You and I, She explained, perfectly in balance.) You were far less excitable, putting all your focus into the one planet you’d claimed as your own, but as you watched Her in those moments, you privately invented jealousy. Maybe you were lying about the lying. Perhaps They did give you counsel in a lapse of generosity, and your essence catapulted as you realized you would have to choose. Or possibly that day went like every other. Maybe She never met Them, and you only met Them much later, once you had shoehorned Them into part of your story. So instead of revelations and sacrifices, your Sister told you about centripetal force as you floated, listening, your rings spinning in slow, lazy circles, and you told Her about how little you cared for all this science and math She liked so much. Where is the pathos? you asked, and She sighed much as an exasperated older Sister should, and you realized that you loved Her very much. Or maybe you didn’t.

WHY? why is that? it's because the longer she's in the story, the worse chuck looks.

amara loved chuck from beginning to fucking end. she was born loving him. she chose him, always, over and over again. and chuck knew this! he used it! he would dangle the possibility of him finally loving her back to get her to do what he wanted. and what does chuck do abt this? abt his story, the first to ever exist? he recreates it. michael & lucifer; cain & abel; dean and sam (all men, curiously). to ... what? prove that he isn't the only brother to have not loved his sibling back? that in his position, u would've done the same?

i could talk abt that fic all day. best thing i've ever written.

[daedrabait]

⭐ tell me all about your favorite buddies ⭐

Thanks for enabling my rambling. This question is very vague but I'm guessing you mean my ocs! <3 ask template here

So. I'll tell you about my OC couple first, who I've got an ongoing longfic about that you can read here. I'm going to sum it up without dropping too many spoilers, so the characters and descriptions may be a little vague.

Their story is based off of a Skyrim companion mod called Lucien Flavius. I always liked the idea of the Dragonborn being someone's adventurer mentor and protector while also fighting their own battles.

Theo is the Imperial scholar in the situation - I took inspiration from Lucien, but Theo is my own oc that I've put lots of time and effort into building. He's got that sweet, sheltered innocence of any apprentice but strives to learn and understand both the ways of real people and the ways of the world. He is learning that not everything is as he read in both history and storybooks.

Griffin is the dragonborn - the mentor. He's a Bosmer thief who's had a rough life and struggles to make connections with people that go deeper than skin-to-skin because of his past experiences. Despite all this, he exhibits a kindness and a more patient and tempered way of going about things that makes him extremely interesting. He's a confusing fellow, especially for Theo, who doesn't have much experience with people beyond his own parents.

But anyway - it's a story that came from my partner and I wanting to explore the potential of a whirlwind fastburn romance between a kind, humble, yet wary dragonborn and an overeager scholar. The potential angst was too good to pass up. So I ended up writing out the story about them. I decided to forego the canon events of the Skyrim game and make it into an alternate universe where yes - there are dragons - but there's no Alduin, and dragonborns are just coincidental heroes that keep being born. It also takes place about a decade after the civil war (Imperial victory) because I wanted to add some flavor and thought it would be interesting. Plus both MCs' parents have involvement in the civil war.

Progression in their story has been a little slow up to this point because I struggle to keep writing sometimes but I'm coming onto some important scenes soon so. If you do decide to read it, I hope you enjoy!

Onto Faelon - another Bosmer Dragonborn

Canon events of Skyrim's main quest do happen, but they're weird.

Faelon is an ex-thrall whose spell was broken by Akatosh upon the arrival of Alduin. He is Dragonborn - but so is his sister. Faelon has had many near-death experiences and because of this and the strange consequences of his birth (Serpent sign), Akatosh decided to bless Baela (his sister) with a dragon soul as well.

Faelon's years of being broken down by thrall magic erased his memory of anything before waking up. Essentially, the amount of magical and physical damage done to him by the wizard had wiped his brain clean except for knowledge of basic tasks and muscle memory. He forgot who he was, where he was, and everyone he had ever known. This made things quite difficult for him upon waking. To sum it up simply, he woke up in a cave near Riften, killed his captor, found maps and journals (he retained the knowledge of how to read), found out he was a thrall, and followed the map into Riften. Following cryptic notes scattered about lead him to an imprisoned Khajiit who shed more light on what happened to him.

Inigo was responsible for shooting Faelon and leaving him to die, causing him to be found and enslaved by the wizard. If you've ever had the Inigo mod installed, I decided to canonize the story that he tells the dragonborn about his betrayal into Faelon's story.

Onto Faelon and his sister - yeah, I know what you're thinking. His lore is huge and extensive. I know.

Faelon and Baela share a father - the whereabouts of Faelon's other parent are unknown because he doesn't remember any of it. Baela doesn't know much about their father either, as she was very young when he either died or disappeared. Her mother was never in the picture, having had her and then fleeing to Morrowind. Faelon, the older of the two siblings, raised her from then on until she reached 14 - at which point he went missing after taking a mercenary job with Inigo.

They meet about a decade and some change later in the Ragged Flagon below Riften. Faelon has no clue who Baela is even though she's ecstatic to have finally found her long lost brother - who she had presumed to either be dead or long gone to some other place outside of Skyrim.

Faelon used to be a very compassionate and loving brother. Years of unfathomable abuse and feeling vulnerable had twisted him into something sinister, though, something power hungry and ruthless - and even still, Baela didn't blame him and tries to rekindle their familial bond. We love tragic siblings, don't we?

I talk about Mercer and Faelon a lot. I won't add more rambling about them here, but if you want to know about them specifically, feel free to send me an ask about them. The amount brainworms I have for those two are unending.

I'll also do the same for Veris - I feel like this ramble is long enough.

Feel free to send hyper-specific asks to me, whether they're about ocs or my stories! As long as they don't potentially spoil future events within my main story (Dust and Dim Sunshine), I'll answer them.

[attackedbytwees]

Following the backlash, Unity have now amended their plans for licensing (as of 22 Sept 2023). There's a few key differences in the new offer:

1. Only applies to games made with the next LTS (long-term support) release onwards.

Currently published or in-development games using any of the current Unity editor releases won't be subject to the new terms. If you want to ensure you'd never have to pay these fees, you can use the current LTS (2022) basically indefinitely - it stops being supported in mid 2025, but it won't detonate the moment it becomes unsupported.

2. Terms of Service will be tied to the version of the editor you are using.

This is, in my opinion, the biggest change. By tying the ToS to the editor version, you can make the decision on whether you want to sign up to the terms at the point that you start developing, not at some point beyond your control in the future.

3. The nebulous per-install "we have a secret tracking system" method of charging is gone.

Per month, you can choose to pay the lesser amount of 2.5% of revenue or a calculated fee per initial engagement. "Engagement" is defined as the first time a distinct user interacts with the game - in most cases either when they buy your game, or the first time they install it. Re-installs, installs on multiple devices, piracy, won't count toward this fee.

4. The Unity Personal (free) plan now has a higher annual revenue limit of $200,000 USD.

The previous limit was $100k USD. If you/your studio makes more than the limit, you have to sign up for a paid Unity plan.

Most importantly - fees only apply if:

a) You are on a paid Unity plan, i.e. your annual revenue from making games is greater than $200,000 USD.

AND

b) Your game has both made more than $1 million USD in gross revenue AND had more than 1 million initial engagements.

So yeah, basically your game has to be doing pretty well for these fees to apply. Now, I still don't blame anyone for not wanting to use Unity going forward (I'll definitely be trying out Godot). They're still run for profit by tech bro capitalist douchebags, and absolutely can't be trusted not to do shady stuff in the future. But at the moment, if you're a hobbyist or indie dev who enjoys making stuff with Unity and isn't making a million dollars from their game, Unity aren't going to come kicking down your door for money.

I'm not a coder or game designer but I do follow a lot of game design channels on youtube so my reccommended list is usually full of random game design stuff. Anyway over the past few days my youtube recommended has been saturated with videos with titles like "Godot basics for Unity developers" and "How to learn Godot if you're used to Unity." For completely normal and random reasons I'm sure. No external reason why this might be a popular kind of video right now.

[thunderous-wolf]

Drunk Dazed

Installment 2 of my series of "Thoughtz"

Note: "Thoughtz" is a compilation of drafts of fanfic that I've had in my notes for a while. They're unedited and most are unfinished. Since I do not feel motivated enough to finish them, I'm posting them all for you to read. Enjoy~

Midnight Escapade

Part 1 of 3

Pairing: no relationship, but features Bangchan and fem!reader.

Plot: You find yourself in a strange world...

Warnings: its supposed to be a little confusing, violence, guns and shooting, death, an implied "not-so-kind" man

a/n: This was a goofy project inspired by a friend that consists of three separate stories tied together. Just like a dream, they don't have a clear plot and are strictly for fun.

Please DO NOT copy, translate or steal my works.

You woke up to find yourself standing behind your best friend, Lisha, in a unfamilliar hallway somewhere. You can hear music coming from the room at the end of the hallway, and the door was slightly ajar. From what you've gathered, it looks like a dance practice room.

After coming closer, you recognize that Red Lights is playing. You stopped right where you were. No way were you gonna watch that, you'd die from blushing as red as a beet. But Lisha, with unknown strength, pulled you along with her. We walked - or rather, dragged - along the hallway until we came to the door.

You were about to open the door when suddenly the ground beneath you gave way, and you were plunged into darkness.

You fell on something slightly soft. You jumped up, thinking it was Lisha, and after some examination, it was just a couch. Lisha had vanished into thin air without a trace.

A spotlight above you flickered on, revealing three doors infront of you. There were no other exits in the room, leading you to believe you had to go into one of the three doors to escape.

The first door was an old wood door (some might even go as far as saying it's mahogany). There was a small gap between the door and the floor, and you could feel a crisp night's breeze seeping in from it.

The second door was lit up with neon signs. It looked like it belonged to a night club. It was very dark tinted glass, and if you got close enough you could barely make out dancing lights from within. You could feel the vibrations on the door that were caused by the thumping music from within.

The third door - and by far the most odd one - was made of steel. It was painted stark white, and the paint was chipping off from the years of usage. One piece of paint in particular was getting on your nerves. You reached out to pick it off and immediately drew your hand back. The door was so cold it almost shocked your hand. Unlike the first door, it didn't have cold air flowing from it.

You stepped back. How were you supposed to know which one would lead you home? Although, you could just poke your head in each one and see which one looked most promising. So that's what you did.

However, your plans didn't factor the possibility of you being sucked into the atmosphere. Literally.

You had chosen the first door (as result of a game of eeny meeny miny moe) and were immediately thrown into the inside when you opened the door wide enough for you to fit through.

Beyond the door, you had stumbled upon an alley. It was late at night, the moon was already high in the sky. Looking up at it, you see that it's a full moon. However, it was the weirdest full moon you've ever seen. The clouds surrounding it were purple, making it cast purple rays of light onto the ground.

You hear shuffling coming from behind you, and you turn around to see a figure walking towards you.

As it came closer, you could see it was a man, in his mid forties, who was certainly not a sight for sore eyes.

"Hey there, pretty lady. Why don't you come with me and we can have some fun~"

"Dang it." You whisper to yourself. "Umm, thank you for the offer but I'm not interested." You say as politely as you can. You don't need to offend him since that could make it worse.

You slowly back away, but he mirrors your movements. His strides are bigger than yours and he's gaining on you. You were about to turn around and run when you suddenly hear a gunshot. You whip your head around to see where the shot came from.

On one of the rooftops above you, stood a younger man standing with his back to the moon, holding a really cool looking gun. There was a painful thud behind you and you whip your head around yet again to see that the man following you fell to the ground with a bullet hole in his chest. Blood was around around him and you stepped back to avoid getting any blood on you. You looked back to see if the young man was still there, but just as your head turned, he jumped off the roof. He quickly disappeared in the endless streets without a sound. Soon, you found yourself alone once more.

Part 2

[kagakuoniryu]

Hello, I hope you are having a lovely day 🌼

I have a request (headcanons) for Aphelios, Kayn and Sett, as husbands.

Thank you very, very, very much, I like the way you write <3

Synopsis :

League men as husbands

Characters :

Kayn

Sett

Aphelios

Type :

Headcanon

Warning :

None

A/N :

I'm truly sorry for everyone who wants multiple characters for their request when I choose only one to write about, I'm going to play favoritr here, these men have been at some point my league crush (only kayn stayed, he is the best) so I wanted to write about the 3 of them as husband and couldn't choose...

And I often forget it in my A/N but thank you to everyone who complement my writings and who wish me good days etc, it's always pleasing to read <3, as always since I'm catching up with the request, hope it won't prevent you from liking the headcanons!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kayn :

I don't know if the order of shadow accept among them people who aren't acolyte but like partner anf s/o of an acolyte

If that's the case then kayn will use this to make you install with him among the order

Or else he'll buy his own house not far from the order where both of you will live together when he isn't in a mission or at the temple

He did a lot of mission by himself so he know the basics of cooking

But he can't clean for the life of him, even rhaast, if you don't clean rhaast yourself rhaast will stay your floor with blood

He can and will pout if you don't want to take a bath with him to relax when he go home

You're one of the few person outside his mission who know when he go, where and when he'll come back

When he is out on a mission he'll send you letter via birds

He don't actively seek a family with children but won't mind having one or two

If you find an orphan needing a shelter Kayn won't think twice before adopting them, at some point he was an orphan too, and without master zed he would probably ended up dead, that's his way to help someone too

If his s/o is fem aligned and get pregnant by accident he'll treat them as porcelain

Again even if the child is an accident he'll welcome them, the same way he can't let an orphan on the street, he won't let his own child become one

Wether or not the potential child is adopted he will love them a lot and train them so they can survive once they're grown up too

Coming back to husband kayn

When he comes home he'll probably going to sleep whenever, the couch? Great! The bed? Awesome! His s/o laps? He is almost running for it!

Outside of the house PDA happens but is limited with hand holding or light kiss on the cheek/forehead ; ionia is a traditional place plus since kayn is part of the shadow order he need to put up a though facade

But once it's just the two of you he is glued to you

Even when the both of you fight, he don't like being mad at you, so when itns time for bed he suggest that at list you hold hands with him, just making sure you're still with him

In the case you live in the order with him he introduce you as his husband/wife to the other acolyte

And you swore on your own life you're never telling kayn this but the way Kayn told Zed the two of you were married looked like a son presenting his partner to his father

The order can be like a family for a lot of people, kayn is one of them, and he is glad you've become a member of his family too

Aphelios :

I'm sorry for you but this man was already a mess for the proposal AND the wedding

He can't process the fact that you're going to be his

The day of the wedding he didn't take his medicine which made him mute so he could talk to you during the whole day

Even if Alune isn't physically with you you swore she is with both of you to protect the both of you and your marriage

Aphelios and you have your own language based on hand sign to talk to each other daily without your voice

Your home is unsurprisingly very quiet

He is a very domestic man, he cook, he clean when you come back from your day he already have a bath ready for you and join you from time to time

He'll not let his mission against the solari go between the two of you but sometimes he can't help it, coming late, not coming back for a few days or even coming back drenched in blood, he don't do it because he likes it but because that's his duty

However when he can he'll tell you when he comes back and when his departure is

He is so sweet too, always peppering your face with kiss and hugs when you're together

He want a family, if he can even twins, a boy and a girl, but he won't raise them the same way he was becaude in the end, before meeting you, when alune were gone, he felt terribly alone

Fight rarely happen at all, when they are he either try to communicate each other point of you to resolve it before bed, or if it can't be resolved before bed he'll spoon you and gather all his strength in his voice to go through the poison in his system and tell you he is sorry

His voice is barely audible and seems very tired but you heard it crystal clear

Even if he know it probably will never happen his dream life would be you, him, your children, adopted or not, in a little house among a lunari village at Targon

But to make this dream true he'll have to make sure you guys, and all the lunari will remain safe from the solari oppression

And only him is able to do that for now

Sett :

He may be a pit fighter and somewhat of a brute his mother raised him very well

Cooking, cleaning, she made sure that if anything were to happen to her and she wouldn't be able to take care of sett anymore he would be able to take care of his own house by himself

When he decided he wanted to marry you he organized himself a dinner with you and his mother, at the end of dinner when you were heading back to your house sett asked his mom what she honestly thought of you, because he was thinking of marrying you

The whole relationship depended on that question, for Sett it was inconceivable to marry someone his mother didn't approuve of, but you were lovely and well behaved so she gave both of you her blessing

Next time Sett took you out for dinner he already had a ring with him a whole cake were supposed to be served as dessert with written on it "will you marry me" and that's when he was supposed to make his proposal, which of course you said yes

Now that Sett is going to be married he wanted you guys to have your own house instead of going to his mom's place since he lived with her or going to yours, with his wealth earned from the pit he bought a almost too luxurious house near his mother's home so he could still be close to her

As stated previously he can help a lot with the chores, and he will

You feel a bit tired? He is running a bath and in a hour dinner will be ready, how does that sound?

He make an effort to be sure to at least come home early and treat you to go somewhere once a week, and another time per week he come home early to have dinner with you and his mother

You mother in law is the sweetest woman ever, you have allergies but she want to make that dish with what's your allergic in it? She is either taking it off for the recipe if possible or straight up cook you another meal altogether

She know by heart your favorite food and she'll be damned if when you come back from dinner at her place you don't come back with some

Usually during dinner Sett sit after you because he bring your chair close to the table as a gentleman should, and if he can he hold your hand during the entire meal

Sett also like to shower you with gift, you're his wife, a member of his family, and you know what he does with his family (except for his dad)? He spoil them rotten ; he know you're not with him for money but he love to see you in these ionian silk outfits

Just like Kayn he grew up without a father and that affected him for a good part of his life, so if he saw an orphan and his s/o and him where talking about having children, he probably wouldn't be opposed to shelter them or maybe even adopting them if the cohabitation goes well

And if his s/o is fem aligned and get pregnant by accident he isn't going to run away like his father did, truth be told he lay even look forward to see if his kid is going to have tiny vastayan ears like he did when younger

The last thing I could say because I can go on and on about Sett as a husband is that now you're granted to come and go to the pit as you please, you need a rest during the day and the pit is nearby? Why don't you come to say hi to your lovely husband, he miss you, you know?

A very good and competent husband altogether

~hope you'll like it~

🌸Request are open🌸

[roxalotl]

rox rambles - Everywhere At The End Of Time by Leyland "The Caretaker" Kirby

(Content Warning: Mentions of dementia and depressing themes due to the nature of subject matter.)

So I was introduced to "Everywhere", and subsequently the work of The Caretaker as a whole, in early April thanks to a video by the YouTube Channel "Nexpo", who in the 12th installment of his "Disturbing Things From Around The Internet" series, brought this up first.

So what is it? Well, it's actually the collective name for a series of six albums (referred to as "Stages") posted between 2016 and 2019, the whole of the work spanning to about six and a half hours. It's meant to simulate the process of worsening dementia, by starting out with relatively normal music, comprised of samples of 1920s-1940s records, such as that of big band and ballroom music. And with each passing "Stage", the music becomes warped, distant, unrecognizable.

It was created by a man named Leyland James Kirby, under the pseudonym of "The Caretaker", and "Everywhere" was his final release using that specific name.

It should be noted that I haven't listened to the entirety of "Everywhere", but I've skimmed enough of it to get an idea of what's going on. Rest of the content under the cut.

STAGES 1-3

Stage 1 is represented by a vague interpretation of a rolled up book or newspaper, something you can somewhat identify. The music is coherent, albeit with just enough editing to make you feel uneasy. The music is pitched down a bit and there's a slight crackling as if it's being played off a broken record player. It's described as "the last of the great days". The beginning of the end. The track names are also rather poetic, such as "Childish fresh eyes", "Late afternoon drifting", things like that.

Stage 2 is represented by a sortof abstract flower pot, still a recognizable object, but not nearly as well. Some claim that two faceless dancing figures are seen amidst the rotted parts. This is the stage where our fictional patient seems to notice, but doesn't accept, that something is wrong. There's more persistent repeating of certain parts of the songs, the mood has become be darker, and the static has grown louder. The track names have taken a dire turn as well, with things like "A losing battle is raging", and "The way ahead feels lonely".

Stage 3 is characterized by a very abstract pattern of green, theorized to be anything from kelp plants to brain synapses. This is the stage where the final embers of memory are dying out. The static roars even louder as the music becomes even more disjointed, sometimes repeating the same small part over and over, as if desperately trying to hold onto a memory. The track names once again take on a darker, but still poetic phrasing, like "Long term dusk glimpses".

STAGES 4-6

Stage 4's representation seems to have some sort of vague humanoid bust made of an undiscernable material, turned away from the camera. I've heard the art compared to the final works of an artist named William Utermohlen. Here, the music is entirely unrecognizable, often only having short bursts of the original tracks appearing for at most a few seconds. Kirby describes this as the beginning of the "Post Awareness Stages", where the subject is no longer even aware that they have this issue. It's also by this point that track names are no longer poetic, but rather cold and clinical, such as "Temporary Bliss State".

Stage 5 continues a lot like Stage 4, with almost no music to speak of, and just a lot of ambient noise with even less hints of the original tracks, albeit sometimes much more calm than the discordant, confused noise of Stage 4. The clinical names continue, such as "Advanced Plaque Entanglements". The picture representing this one is some sort of vague figure walking downstairs, it's hard to tell what the statue could even be made of.

Stage 6 oddly sees a return to the poetic names, such as "Place in the world fades away", but that seems to be only another sign of the end. The picture appears to be the back of a canvas with four pieces of blue painter's tape. The canvas is turned away as if we're not able to see any of the memories that made this person who they were, because they're not there anymore.

Stage 6's tracks are mostly comprised of howling winds, as if there's just desolation - nothing left. But then... the final few minutes of "Place in the world fades away" comes in. Through all the distortion, the noise, the emptiness, an angelic choir breaks free. It's theorized that this represents the final memory of the patient, or said patient going through "terminal lucidity" - where all of their memory comes back shortly before their passing. And it ends with a minute of silence, thought to represent the death of the subject.

"Everywhere" is not a pleasant experience, even if you're doing a hefty bit of skimming like I've done. I don't recommend listening to it if you're already not in a good mindset. The whole of it almost feels... forbidden, as if we're looking into the mind of a dementia patient, feeling what they feel despite our own minds being decently healthy more-or-less.

I've never personally lost anyone to dementia or Alzheimer's, and I hope I never have to. Because quite frankly, it's a horrifying experience on both sides.

In the words of The Caretaker himself: May the ballroom remain eternal. C'est fini.