#this got longer than I intended it to lol

[demon-country]

One of the saddest parts of the stolitz miscommunication debacle to me is that for all his bluster and all his denial, Blitz never managed to fool anyone into believing that there were no feelings involved and he was doing it solely for the book, including Stolas. That is, until Ozzie's, at which point he finally fooled the one person who he didn't even think he needed to.

For all we talk about how Stolas let his fantasies of romance run wild, which caused him to accidentally run roughshod over Blitz (especially at first), he wasn't exactly wrong, in the end. Blitz did develop feelings for him, and given how excited and enthusiastic he was that last full moon, their nights together were probably the only times he felt safe actually showing that. Because he could always tell himself and everyone else that it was just an act, he was just giving Stolas what he wanted and keeping him satisfied enough that he'd let Blitz keep the book.

Stolas thought, up until Ozzie's, that Blitz enjoyed their deal just as much as he did. Because Blitz did. If Blitz was showing up basically every moon as hyped and ready to go as the time we saw him, it's not really a surprise that Stolas didn't catch on to the times when Blitz was actually unhappy and uncomfortable because he felt objectified. After all, Blitz snaps at and is abrasive to everyone, and any annoyance probably seemed pretty par for the course, especially for someone as oblivious, ignorant, and autistic-coded as Stolas. But Stolas also got special treatment on top of that, and it's easier to focus on the stuff that stands out rather than the stuff that doesn't seem too far off from Blitz's standard behavior. He got times where Blitz was genuinely happy and comfortable and excited to see him, we literally see that in the memory fragments and Blitz's behavior during the last full moon. He got times where Blitz seemed to find him so hot he'd grab him and turn things sexual on a dime (Truth Seekers and The Circus). He also got times where Blitz was caring and attentive, and where Blitz accepted care and gentleness during aftercare (because there's literally no way that didn't happen, not getting aftercare after BDSM scenes can be legitimately traumatizing for both the Dom and sub).

Like, that's not to say that Stolas shouldn't have taken the numerous hints that his condescension and baby talk were highly unappreciated, because yeah that shit was very uncool of him and ignorance doesn't excuse it. But look at how Blitz gently caresses Stolas' cheek in Truth Seekers. Look at how thrilled he was to be with Stolas again in The Full Moon. Look at the photo Stolas has of the pony drawing Blitz seems to have made while at his palace. Look at the memory fragments where Blitz is so fucking into kissing him or gleefully showing off toys or making that big shiny eyed blep I'm dying to know the context of. How else was Stolas supposed to take all that every full moon and however many nights Blitz came over outside of that, and not be convinced that his feelings were returned?

Because they were. Not immediately, of course, but the were. They were on the same page about that. There were plenty of things Blitz didn't like, related to Stolas' unconscious racism/classism. There was plenty of "things for [Blitz] to teach and [Stolas] to learn". There were plenty of things that went unsaid and unheard and misinterpreted on both sides. But the love was there, Stolas didn't make it all up. It wasn't the perfect fantasy he was initially picturing (although I'm pretty sure that illusion didn't actually last very long, not with how dejected he looks in a few of the memory fragments and at the start of Ozzie's), and Blitz had a lot more hidden under the surface than Stolas knew about (although he did know Blitz had walls he hadn't seen through yet), but the love was there. You don't have to know everything about someone to start falling in love with them. Blitz couldn't fool anyone, but he especially couldn't fool Stolas, who he showed his heart to again and again thinking he was safely hidden behind the alibi of the book deal.

Until Ozzie's. Until the disastrous "date", after which Blitz couldn't hide the hurt he felt thinking that all Stolas wanted him for was sex, when Blitz wanted more. Except Blitz didn't say that last part. So all Stolas got was Blitz ignoring him on their date, Blitz rejecting his offer to go inside, and Blitz tearing up while saying in a wounded and borderline angry voice that their deal was strictly about sex, which finally clued Stolas in that his actions hadn't been taken as cute and flirty like he had intended, they had just served to hurt Blitz and convince him that all he wanted was to use Blitz.

Blitz's pain changed everything for Stolas. He stopped flirting, he stopped calling him Blitzy save for one time, he stopped most of his interactions with Blitz, and he started trying to give Blitz outs. He looked at all the times Blitz was annoyed at him, at how umbalanced their deal was, and at how it may have been just as cruel of a chain as the one binding him to Stella, and quite correctly came to the conclusion that the deal needed to end and Blitz needed to have a way to do his job without being dependant on Stolas. But he also looked at all the memories of Blitz being happy with him, and all the times Blitz showed up excited, and came to the incorrect but reasonable conclusion that it was all probably just an act Blitz put on to keep the book. Just like Blitz had been hoping to convince everyone of.

And then Stolas ended the deal, and Blitz couldn't figure out why so he started to panic. The deal was his safety net and his shield; it was the only way he felt he could get something close to the real relationship he wanted, it was what allowed him to be open with his feelings, and what gave him the courage to let some of his walls down. It probably felt like such a betrayal that Stolas would take it away.

Even though he was the one who dodged all of Stolas' offers to talk, out of fear that things would become complicated if they talked about it, out of fear of rejection after Stolas hid during their "date", and later out of guilt and shame for how he failed to save Stolas. Even though he was the one who was hiding behind the excuse that it was all just for the book. Even though he was the only one convinced that Stolas could never care about him for anything other than sex. Even though Stolas flat out told him he cared about him and wanted him to stay, just without the deal in between them. Even with all that, Blitz still couldn't see Stolas ending their deal any way other than Stolas abandoning him and rejecting him and taking away the only way he has ever been able to openly show that side of himself.

It was more than just his self-hatred talking, it was more than just his insecurities getting the better of him. It was a perceived betrayal of trust and an inability to see how much the deal limited their ability to get what they both actually wanted. The reason it hurt him so much was because Stolas hadn't actually been wrong. Blitz did care, Blitz did enjoy their deal, Blitz did want Stolas just as much as Stolas wanted him.

The tragedy of it all was that the love was real, but the only ones who were convinced it wasn't was the two of them. So it's a good thing the story isn't over for them yet, because I couldn't take that ending for them. After all the shit they've been through in their lives, they deserve their happy ending together, they deserve to have their mutually requited love be realized.

[lillotte17]

Mythal thoughts this morning:

Morrigan said that the "closest" word for the kind of spirit Mythal came from was 'Benevolence' and my immediate reaction was:

Because even her idea that 'when kindness is denied it becomes retribution' doesn't really hold water. That's...not really how kindness works. I would think that a spirit formed around the idea of benevolence would have the same sort of path as Compassion if it became corrupted. Something more like Desperation or Despair.

To me, the idea that seems to fit her is Protection.

Protection is good! It's a feeling and impulse born from kindness and a desire to take care of others! It is also one of the oldest and most primary emotions people have. Desire and Fear came into being, and then Protection must have followed soon after. Because what else can you feel when someone you love is afraid? And a universal symbol for that feeling is a mother guarding her children, which is what Mythal always touted herself as being. "She was the Mother, protective and fierce." The Caretaker calls her 'the protector'. And the name of Solas' regret that you have to fight about her is called 'Fall of the Protector.'

But protection pushed too far becomes overbearing and oppressive. Controlling. 'Just do what I say, this is for your own good.' The cat who eats her kittens so they don't starve. The mother who breaks a precious golden mirror to teach her daughter a lesson.

Solas was Wisdom. He wanted to learn and to teach and to reflect, but even as a spirit, I think he wanted to give his knowledge purpose, and it suits him that he would be drawn to an embodiment of Protection. He could share what he knows and she could use it to keep others safe, and they will both find fulfillment in the exchange. It was mutually beneficial for them, and it was helping other people. A kind of symbiosis and even dependency, to some extent.

And then Elgar'nan makes a body. And he convinces Mythal to do so as well. And it's all downhill from there.

But you can see the thread of how Protection could convince Solas as that kind of spirit, not only as his friend, but because of what she embodies. For example, “it’s not wrong to build bodies from the titans, it gives us strength to protect ourselves and others” and “it’s not wrong to sever the titans' dreams, we’re protecting our people by ending the war” and “it’s not wrong to become a god, because the people need someone to watch over them.” Every bad step she asks him to take with her still echoes with the purpose of her original being, even though it is being pushed to harsh and terrible extremes.

Solas being Wisdom sees how she is wrong, but also doubts his convictions because protection is her nature. They have had a mutually beneficial partnership for thousands of years. He relies on her for fulfillment of his nature just as much as he believes she still relies on him for hers. And he loves her. And he trusts her. And for so many thousands of years, she has wanted to do nothing but good, so what she wants can’t be THAT bad, right?

Narrator Voice: It was, in fact, Much Worse.

And everything spins outward. He is Wisdom and he is a spirit, and spirits don't handle sudden change well, and Wisdom does not handle being wrong well, and the more things fall apart, the more he has to try and fix them. The more he has to justify the choices he made as being right. The more he has to defend the idea and the memory of Mythal being Inherently Good. Because if she wasn't good, then he put his trust in the wrong place. He was not Wise. He has lost not only Mythal, but himself and his true nature in allowing her to lead him to horrible places even when he knew better. He has to make the world the way she wanted it not only to soothe his conscience about what happened to the elves after the Veil, but because he is still clinging to the base of his initial partnership with Mythal. Mythal wanted the world this way because she was Good, and I was helping her which made me Good, and anything I have to do to achieve this goal is Acceptable because the results are Good. He can do what they have always done together. He will give his Wisdom for what she wanted to achieve, and the people will be Protected. Their contract and their natures will be fulfilled. And maybe everything else he did can be justified, even if it cannot be forgiven.

[megantronusprime]

y'all ever think about the 10 years engie spent as a roughneck in the oilpatch? because I do.

Like, do you think he was trying to break away from the family legacy of becoming a mercenary? that maybe that boy in the picture, trying his father's goggles wanted nothing more than to be an engineer just like his daddy - even had a natural knack for it too, said his dad, just like him and his father before him - and was too young to see clearly the toll it took on him and his family? do you think that, as he got older, he would begin to recognize the extremes his father and grandfather went to for their work, obsessing over it, even experimenting on their own bodies. do you think he came across his mother crying at the kitchen table late one night, unable to recognize the loving man she married who now never came home and obsessed over his work, and decided right then and there that he wasn't going to be that man to his family? that he was going to forge his own path - be his own man, and break free from the Conagher family curse?

so, maybe, at the age of 18, he began working as a roughneck in the oilfields of west Texas. It was hard manual labour, long days spent on drilling rigs with the Texas sun beating down on him, but it was good money, and though some of his coworkers were rough most of them were good enough guys and he along with most of 'em. and hey, sometimes maybe there were even on-the-spot practical problems to be solved - issues with the drill that in a fast-paced environment like that couldn't wait for a proper tech to come around and solve? and in those moments, engie would step in and fix the issue quickly, working without hesitation, like it was second nature to him. And maybe his coworkers would always remark upon his natural aptitude? ("you're in the wrong line of work, Dell.") Maybe he would shrug it off, say it weren't nothin' - just hung around his father a lot growin' up and learned a thing or two - but deep inside, he hoped for more of those opportunities to fix things, and maybe those little moments of on-the-spot fixes were the very things he looked forward to most. And maybe, even as he gained a reputation for being a mr. fix-it amongst his coworkers, given odd things outside of work to tinker on, it wasn't enough. maybe slowly, over the years, with each thing he worked on, the flames of his intellectual curiosity were stoked more and more, until eventually, he went back home and visited his mom, during his week off. And, late one night, against his better judgement, he went into his father's workshop - untouched, everything covered in a layer of dust (he hadn't been home in years). he knew he shouldn't. He could feel the gnawing at him, the voice demanding him to give in to his intellectual curiosity and follow in his father's footsteps getting louder. He had been trying to fight it, but he finally reached his breaking point and went into his father's blueprints. that was what tipped him over the edge. He spent the whole night, locked away in his father's workshop, poring over each design, his mind racing with ideas of how he could make it better. He couldn't stand it anymore, he needed more. When the sun came back up again, Dell informed his mother that after 10 years, he was quitting his job and enrolling for university. and although he was certain that he would not become the same man his father and grandfather was, as sure as he would be an engineer, but do it differently and not succumb to the family curse. And although his mother smiled, ever gentle and encouraging of her son, coffee mug in hand, there was a sadness in her eyes. Because she knew that Dell always had the same tenacity and obsessive intellectual curiosity his father has. And if Dell was going to do this, there was no moderation. He was going to fling himself into it completely, lose sleep, lose focus of everything else. And she was right.

...

OR maybe he always knew he was going to be an engineer and was like, "well, I'm going to do a whole lot of schooling, so what's the best way to save up for tuition? oh yeah! work in the oilfield for a few years :)" lol

[flamemittens]

maybe for morgayne and gortash?

Flower Language prompts from here!

Gortash x F!Durge. 1.3k words. *Act 3 spoilers*.

*Now extended and on AO3*

Black-eyed Susan - "Revenge tastes sweet, and so are you."

The first time she meets with him is shortly after the coronation ceremony.

Her companions do not want her to go alone, but Morgayne insists. It is better this way. There is an inexorable pull towards the man that she finds she cannot ignore, and he seems to have at least some of the answers she seeks—if he is telling the truth. They have heard the rumours—from whispers that coil in dark corners, to braver shouts that ring off the buildings and cobblestoned streets—all over parts of the city and its outskirts; in his rise from upstart lordling to city ruler and protector, he has used everything and everyone—whether at his disposal or not—to ascend.

She finds him upstairs in his office, as promised.

He assures her that their plans can still be brought to fruition. He confidently directs, explains to her what they should do, and Gods, that evasive something in her wants to listen. It is all so frustratingly, distantly recognizable. Hypnotic, in a way.

There must be more to it, she thinks. To them. She recalls the torn page she found in the Moonrise mindflayer colony, and its frenetic, tormented penmanship.

“Lord Gortash. Who were we to each other? Really?”

He seems to wince, for some reason, at her use of his title. After a brief silence, he finally offers his answer.

“I meant what I said in the audience hall. You can use that as a reference if you wish.”

Morgayne frowns. “As strange as it may seem, that does not make things much clearer. I only have more questions.”

“Well then. Allow me to fill in some more of the specifics for you, in a way that leaves no room for interpretation.”

“Please do.”

“Have a seat, then.” He sees her hesitate, and adds, in a strangely gentler tone, “I insist.”

They talk for an hour before she takes her leave.

--

She returns to him again a day or two later. She doesn’t really know what draws her there; perhaps it is this nostalgic, tenuous thread of intimacy and trust that she cannot yet determine the root of.

They talk further.

“How are your memories?” he asks, after a while.

Morgayne sighs. “It’s like trying to complete a puzzle but all the pieces are broken, scattered, and some will forever be missing. However, some things are coming back to me, I think. Slowly.”

Something like delight flares in his dark eyes. Something like hope.

She stays for longer this time.

“How was your Archduke, darling?” Astarion asks later as he sidles up to her on her return to the Elfsong, amusement plain on his beautiful features.

“He is not my Archduke” she counters flatly, feeling none of the conviction she tries so hard to imbue the words with.

--

“I heard you went to the Hells today” Gortash begins the next time she visits him. “You’ve been busy, my dear.”

“Yes” she confirms.

She tells him about it all, of Helsik, of Hope, of Nubaldin. Of what the self-important rock gnome revealed before she was compelled to sear the flesh from his bones, to burn away his smug grin—but not how she later felt she had been told part of the story before. That she keeps to herself for now. She speaks of the Master of the House, and how she robbed him blind.

Any other eyes on the scene would think he is not reacting, but she sees something subtle in the set of his jaw, the rise of his shoulders, the pitch of his eyes. How one clawed gauntlet grips the edge of the table, pressing marks into the oak, how the knuckles on his other tightly fisted hand are turning white. How he won’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on the floor as she talks.

“Raphael is dead” she finishes.

His eyes flick to hers eventually, the tension bleeding out of him faster than it bloomed.

“It’s…curious, isn’t it” he muses.

She doesn’t need to ask what he means.

--

As per their agreement, she goes to him after her duel with Orin.

She tells him what happened, down there in the dark. How she defied her father. How she lay there, drained and dead on the cold, bloodstained stone. How she came to be here now, telling him about it all.

“You have our—your revenge, then. And your freedom.”

She takes a mouthful of the Marsember Blush, lets it linger on her tongue before swallowing. It’s a balmy evening, and the wine is as refreshing as it is spicy.

“Yes. It would seem I do.”

He studies her with an almost unnerving intensity over the rim of his glass.

“I always knew, Mori.” is all he says.

That’s the name engraved on the inside of the ring she wears on her right hand, she thinks.

Her Archduke looks tired tonight.

--

The letter arrives the next afternoon, precisely crafted if a little concise, and mildly fragranced like his coronation invitation. She takes it to a quiet corner to read, drinking in its scent. His scent. It is one line, with an Upper City address at the bottom.

M Come to this address tonight. I can promise you it will be worth your while.” E

Later, she slips away from the others, but is intercepted by Jaheira on the landing outside their rooms. The older half-elf appears concerned. She can’t say it isn’t justified.

“I feel we are losing you.”

“Interesting that you should say that. I feel I am finding myself.” She packs as much of an apology as she can into her smile.

Jaheira looks as if she understands somehow. “Be careful, cub” she says, after a beat.

A short time later, Morgayne reaches the building in question. It’s a sprawling, well-appointed manor like many of those in the Upper City. She glances down one side of the building, spotting a tall trellis thick with ivy that scales up to a balcony. A fragment comes back to her then—heavy rain, gloved fingers slipping on the wood before finally reaching stone.

On entering, she is welcomed and led upstairs; she notices the guards, yes, but also the minimal staff, the thin coat of dust over almost everything—he does not come here much anymore, she recognises.

She is ushered into what she is informed are his personal chambers.

Gortash—Enver—sits at a desk, nearby a large chaise that faces an unlit fireplace. Multiple pages of what looks to be Steel Watcher schematics are spread over its surface. A decanter and tumbler, both half-filled with amber liquid, sit at his elbow. He is casually dressed, save for his golden gauntlets.

“Ah, there you are. You found your way here, at last.”

He rises as she approaches, walking around to stand in front of her.

She sees it all then, plain on his face. Relief. Pride. Desire.

He leans in with a confidence, a lover’s closeness that she supposes he has already earned, long ago. Something clicks into place as she smells the whisky on him—it’s less a moment of realization and more of a punch to the chest that steals her breath away—it speaks of the past, of hushed conversations and affection and trust.

The air seems to become warmer, thicker with every passing moment. He’s orchestrated all of this, she knows now. A tableau of echoes just for her.

She believes it all, feels the truth in it.

He kisses her then, and she kisses him back. It’s clumsy at first, like a musician trying to recall a once beloved tune, but she falls into the familiar rhythm soon enough. He trails his mouth along her jawline and pulls her flush against him, as one hand slides round the back of her neck and up into the base of her braid—the cool metal against her warm skin is…grounding.

“Stay here” he murmurs into her ear. “Where you belong. Don’t go back to them.”

And Gods help her, she stays.

[bubbloquacious]

Zariski topologies

So if you take kⁿ, the n-dimensional coordinate space over some field k, the Zariski topology on kⁿ is the topology whose closed sets are of the form

Z(S) = { x ∈ kⁿ : f(x) = 0 for all f ∈ S }

for some subset S ⊆ k[x₁,...,xₙ]. That is, the closed sets are the common zero loci of some set of polynomials over k in n variables, i.e. they are the solution sets for some system of algebraic equations. Such sets are called algebraic sets. If I is the ideal generated by S, then Z(S) = Z(I), so we can restrict ourselves to ideals.

Now if you take a commutative unital ring R, we let Spec R denote its prime spectrum, the set of prime ideals of R. We let Max R ⊆ Spec R be the subset consisting of the maximal ideals, the maximal spectrum. The Zariski topology on Spec R is the topology whose closed sets are of the form

Z(S) = { P ∈ Spec R : P ⊇ S }

for some subset S ⊆ R. A prime ideal P contains S if and only if it contains the ideal generated by S, so again we can restrict to ideals. What's the common idea here? Classically, if k is algebraically closed, then Hilbert's Nullstellensatz (meaning Zero Locus Theorem) allows us to identify the points of kⁿ with those of Max k[x₁,...,xₙ], by mapping a point (a₁,...,aₙ) to the maximal ideal (x₁ - a₁,...,xₙ - aₙ), and the Zariski topologies will agree along this identification. There's nothing very special about these algebraic sets though.

Let X be any (pre-)ordered set with at least one bottom element. For a subset Y ⊆ X, define the lower and upper sets associated to Y as

L(Y) = { x ∈ X : x ≤ y for all y ∈ Y }, U(Y) = { x ∈ X : x ≥ y for all y ∈ Y }.

We call a lower [upper] set principal if it is of the form L(x)= L({x}) [U(x) = U({x})] for some x ∈ X. If X is complete (any subset has at least one least upper bound and greatest lower bound), then any lower or upper set is principal. Note that ⋂ᵢ L(Yᵢ) = L(⋃ᵢ Yᵢ), so lower sets are closed under arbitrary intersections; they provide what's called a closure system on the power set of X. The lower closure of a set Y is the intersection of all lower sets containing Y. We have that Y ⊆ L(x) if and only if x ∈ U(Y), so the lower closure of Y is given by L(U(Y)). If the lower sets were furthermore closed under finite unions (including empty unions), then they would form the closed sets of a topology on X.

This is not generally true; first of all, note that any lower set contains the bottom elements of X, of which there is at least one, so the empty set is not a lower set. As for binary unions, generally we have L(Y₁) ∪ L(Y₂) ⊆ L(Y₁ ∩ Y₂), but this inclusion might be strict. This is something we can fix by restricting to a subset of X.

We say that p ∈ X is prime if p is not a bottom element and for all x, y such that for all z such that x ≤ z and y ≤ z we have p ≤ z, we have that p ≤ x or p ≤ y. That is, if p is smaller than every upper bound of x and y, then p is smaller than x or y. Furthermore, we say that p is a prime atom if it is a minimal prime element. Let P(X) and A(X) denote the sets of primes and prime atoms of X, respectively. For a subset Y ⊆ X, let the Zariski closed set associated to Y be given by

Z(Y) = L(Y) ∩ P(X) = { p ∈ P(X) : p ≤ y for all y ∈ Y }.

We again have ⋂ᵢ Z(Yᵢ) = Z(⋃ᵢ Yᵢ), so the Zariski closed sets are closed under arbitrary intersections. Note also that Z(X) = ∅, so the empty set is closed. Now let Y₁, Y₂ be subsets of X. We find that Z(Y₁) ∪ Z(Y₂) = Z(U(Y₁ ∪ Y₂)). Clearly if p is smaller than all of the elements of one Yᵢ, then it is smaller than every upper bound; the interesting part is the other containment.

Assume that p ∈ Z(U(Y₁ ∪ Y₂)), so p is smaller than every upper bound of Y₁ ∪ Y₂. If p is smaller than every element of Y₁ then we are done, so assume that there is some y ∈ Y₁ with p ≰ y. For every y' ∈ Y₂ we have that p is smaller than every upper bound of y and y', so because p is prime we get that it is smaller than y or y'. It is not smaller than y, so p ≤ y'. We conclude that p ∈ Z(Y₂), and we're done.

As before, the Zariski closure of a set of primes Q ⊆ P(X) is given by Z(U(Q)). Note however that for a point x ∈ X we have L(x) = L(U(x)), so the Zariski closure of a prime p is Z(p). It follows that A(X) is exactly the subspace of closed points of P(X).

So we have defined the Zariski topology on P(X). How can we recover the classical examples?

If X is the collection of algebraic subsets of kⁿ ordered by inclusion, then P(X) consists of the irreducible algebraic subsets, and we can identify kⁿ itself with A(X). Our Zariski topology coincides with the standard definition.

If X = R is a unital commutative ring, ordered by divisibility, then being prime for the ordering coincides with being either prime for the ring structure, or being equal to 0 if R is an integral domain. Note that this ordering is not generally antisymmetric; consider 1 and -1 in a ring of characteristic not equal to 2.

A more well-behaved version of the previous example has X = { ideals I ⊴ R }, ordered by reverse inclusion. Note that for principal ideals (r), (s) we have (r) ⊇ (s) if and only if r divides s. We have P(X) = Spec R and A(X) = Max R, and our Zariski topology coincides with the standard definition.

You can play the same game if X is the lattice of subobjects of any structure H. If H is a set (or a topological space) and X is its power set, then the primes and prime atoms are the same; the points. The Zariski topology is the discrete topology on H. If H is a vector space, then P(X) is empty, because any non-zero subspace V can be contained in the span of two subspaces that don't contain V. It seems that the sweet spot for 'interesting' Zariski topologies is somewhere in between the rigidity of vector spaces and the flexibility of sets.

If H is an affine space, then again the prime elements are exactly the points. The resulting Zariski topology has as closed sets the finite unions of affine subspaces of H.

An interesting one is if X is the set of closed sets of some topological space S (generalizing the first example). The prime elements are the irreducible closed sets, and if S is T1 (meaning all points are closed), then the points of A(X) can be identified with those of S. Then the Zariski topology on A(X) is the same as the topology on S, and the Zariski closure of an irreducible closed set is the set of all irreducible closed sets contained in it.

[darkstarofchaos]

Ooo I really like your concept. I love a good story like that 😆. Slowburn is a favorite trope of mine, so I'm excited for you to get to write something like that. Ill be keeping an eye out hehe.

I too have a specific type of Prowl I like that many fics I saw of them dont have, though I still enjoy reading them. So I'm excited to see what your version is like, even if we end up having different Prowls!

Thanks! I have like, 5 other fics that I need to work on right now, so that one is sadly on the backburner, but hopefully I can get back to it before too long.

I'm curious what your favorite type of Prowl is, if you want to share! I find a lot of fics tend to treat him as like... Really cold and mean? I'm trying not to go on a rant, lol. But I'm so tired of fics where most of the Autobots are sympathetic to some Decepticon's plight, and then there's Prowl on the sidelines acting like said Decepticon's continued existence is a personal affront.

Also, a lot of people compare him to Soundwave (probably because he's perceived as cold and emotionless). My preferred take on Prowl is more like the Autobot Starscream, though - he's not trying to take over, but he pushes back on Optimus' plans if he doesn't like their odds of success, resists following orders if he considers them the wrong course of action, and is willing to do his own thing if he's not being listened to (I also inadvertently gave him a host of disorders by leaning into the thing in his G1 tech specs about how he doesn't handle the unexpected well, lol. The autism and processor crashes were deliberate, the social anxiety, generalized anxiety, temperature regulation issues, and absence seizures weren't. Turns out that if you sit down to explain why unexpected events lead to crashes, there's a ton of comorbidities and contributing factors).

So yeah, my Prowl is a bit of a mess, psychologically. And has an unhealthy relationship with morality (and Optimus) because he has low empathy and according to some people, that makes you a bad person. So even though he wants the best outcome possible for as many people as possible and is against causing harm when it doesn't accomplish anything, he struggles to feel like a good person and is susceptible to manipulation through moral attacks (this is totally not me expressing my frustration with the way both canon and fandom like to paint him as a villain for having perfectly reasonable concerns about his enemies).

Also, making the bot who turns into a police car an actual law enforcer was the most boring thing canon could have done with his prewar career. My Prowl was a defense attorney (if IDW Prowl, who was himself an enforcer, could look at his peers and see a corrupt system, then mine can be an advocate for criminal justice reform).

[godlizzza]

Holiday prompt: teenage danbert where herbert gets to spend christmas eve/morning with dan's family?

Herbert woke on Christmas morning with Dan's hair in his mouth. Wrinkling his nose, he eased back and spat the brown strands out, squinting at the pale light filtering in between the crack in the curtains and slicing across his face. He tried to sit up back Dan squeezed him tighter, arms locked around Herbert's waist and keeping him firmly pressed against the mattress. Herbert glanced down at him and saw Dan's mouth quirk up at the corners.

He finally opened his brown eyes to look up at Herbert and say, "Merry Christmas."

It was the same thing he'd said last night at the stroke of twelve. He'd pestered him into staying up until midnight purely to wish him a happy Christmas the second he could. Herbert had found him as trying then as he did now, but he couldn't fight the swell of fondness that rose in his chest. It was all such a Dan thing to do.

"Merry Christmas to you too," he mumbled back, poking Dan's nose and smirking at his subsequent scowl. "Sleep well? Or were you too excited thinking of Santa to get any shut eye?"

"I slept amazing," Dan replied haughtily. "But only because I had my human body pillow to keep me company."

He ducked his head down and burrowed into Herbert's chest, nuzzling his sternum hard. Herbert squirmed and shoved at his head, but Dan held firm, hands raking down Herbert's back and slipping dangerously close to his sides. Herbert instantly went stiff and grabbed Dan's wrists, halting his hands before his treacherous fingers could slip beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't you tickle me," he gasped desperately. "If you do, I can't be held responsible for my reflexes."

Dan rolled his eyes but his smile was still soft and syrupy, sweetened with remnants of sleep still sticking to him. "You and your sensitive nerves..."

He gently leaned in and pressed his lips to Herbert's collarbone, where the neck of his shirt dipped low enough to expose the skin of his chest. Herbert shivered at the contact and felt Dan smile against his skin.

"Sooo sensitive," Dan went on in a whisper, trailing his lips higher and kissing Herbert's neck.

Herbert hummed somewhere in the back of his throat, his hands coming to rest on Dan's shoulders. The trouble with sharing a bed with Dan was that they always inevitably wound up here: with Dan's hands and lips and on him, pressing him into the mattress. Herbert didn't dislike it, but he did think Dan could perhaps work on not being so predictable. He was warm though. Positively toasty, in fact. The heat of his body wafted up between them, caged in by the plush comforter and forming a cocoon around them. Herbert's eyes slipped shut as Dan pressed a kiss beneath his jaw and he basked in that warmth.

They didn't have long to indulge, however, before a light rapping came at the door. Herbert opened his eyes to watch Dan blink over his shoulder towards the knocking.

"Danny, Herbert," came the chipper voice of Dan's mother, Leanne, "Are you two up yet?"

"Yeah, Mom," Dan grumbled, releasing his octopus-like grip on Herbert and sitting up. He yawned and stretched, his joints popping with the motion. He sleepily scratched at the light trail of hair dusting his stomach and smacked his lips a couple of times. "We're up."

"Oh, good!" she chirped. "I'm making eggs. Herbert, dear? How would you like yours?"

"Scrambled, please," Herbert replied, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table."

"You got it. See you two in a minute."

Leanne's voice disappeared as her footsteps grew distant, heading towards the stairs. There had been a time when she may have swung the door open with less prompting. After one particularly close call when she had nearly walked in on the two of them making out on top of the sheets, Dan had apparently concocted some story that Herbert was exceedingly private and paranoid about people walking into his room unannounced. Ever since, Leanne had gone out her way to deliberately knock and not enter until Dan gave her the go-ahead. Herbert liked her that much more for it. He couldn't imagine his own mother ever being so considerate.

He followed Dan out of the cosy bed with some regret. He'd never been much of one for Christmas, so a day spent laying beneath a pile of warm blankets sounded just as good a way to spend Christmas day than anything else he could think of. But the Christmas aspect had been what Dan was so excited to have Herbert over for, so he supposed their itinerary was to be more than simply lazing about.

"You're sure this is okay?" Herbert asked, tugging at his pajama shirt as he and Dan padded down the stairs.

Dan glanced over his shoulder, eyes flicking down to catch Herbert fiddling with his buttons, and a grin spread across his face. "Of course, it's okay. You don't need formal dress for this. It's Christmas morning, not dinner at the royal palace."

Herbert frowned but didn't fight him on it. If walking around in his plaid pajamas and socks was okay by the Cain household, he supposed that was fine. It still felt unnatural and odd though. Discomfort prickled up his spine, the irrational fear that his grandfather would spring out from behind a potted plant and accuse him of being a slob itched at the base of his skull. He ignored it though as he and Dan descended the stairs and were welcomed by the smell of frying eggs.

Leanne turned from the stove and gave them a warm smile as they entered the living room. She wore a pink Santa hat and an apron embroidered with a smiling snowman over her nightdress. She waved her spatula at them as Dan tugged Herbert over towards the glimmering Christmas tree.

His father, Scott, was down on his knees, lighting the fireplace. The chopped logs and kindling lit, the fire crackling to life in the hearth. He sat back and clapped his hands together, sending a shower of soot raining down from his palms, onto the carpet. He was also wearing his pajama bottoms, but had on a truly gaudy Christmas sweater, decorated little flashing bulbs. He smiled as Dan excitedly sat down by the stack of presents beneath the pine's green branches.

"Morning, boys," Scott greeted in his usual booming voice. "Merry Christmas."

"Thank you," Herbert replied, slowly sinking down to sit beside Dan on the plush rug. "Merry Christmas to you as well."

Dan paused in his ogling of the wrapped presents to shoot a little smile at Herbert. Herbert just glared right back, daring him to say something. He always gave him grief for being what he called 'overly polite' to his parents, but Herbert had no idea how he was supposed to talk to them otherwise. He certainly couldn't pal around with them in the casual way Dan did. That would be...obscene.

"Ready for breakfast?" Scott asked.

"Dad," Dan whined. "Can't we do the presents first?"

"Daniel Jonathan Cain," Leanne chided as she shuffled into the living room, patting down her apron. "You haven't changed since you were a baby." She shot a sparkling smile at Herbert and said, "I used to have to hide his presents in the attic. If I left them under the tree, he'd sneak them away to his room and open them early."

Dan pouted, a blush colouring his cheeks. "I did that one time."

"One time too many," Leanne corrected, then settled down on the arm of the sofa. "But I think we can put Dan out of his misery and do the presents first."

Dan pumped his fist and scrambled to grab the nearest parcel; a small box wrapped in green paper, tied off with a silver ribbon. He shredded the paper apart, flinging the scraps over his shoulders and tearing the box open to reveal a baseball. Herbert frowned slightly at this. Sure, Dan liked baseball, but didn't he have balls already? What did he need with one more? His thoughts were interrupted by Dan's loud gasp. He clutched the box tightly in his hands and brought it an inch from his nose, his eyes wide as he examined it.

"Is that-?" Dan stammered. "Dennis Eckersley?" He lowered the box and stared in wonderment at his dad, who just smiled knowingly back. "You got me a ball signed by Dennis Eckersley? How?"

"Got your Uncle Marv to go to charity auction event for me. Told him to get whatever was best. Soon as he told me he got that ball, I knew you'd love it," Scott replied with a chuckle.

"I do love it," Dan said, hugging the ball tight to his chest. "Thanks, Dad."

Scott clapped Dan on the shoulder and squeezed. Herbert watched the interaction, his eyes glued to where Scott's fingers dug into the fabric of Dan's sweatshirt. When was the last time his father had touched him? Shown him affection? Spoken to him at all? He couldn't remember. Probably not for a long time. After all, conversing with his son would hardly fit in with the busy schedule Grandfather had made for him.

Herbert watched the Cains open several more presents after that: Leanne got Scott a new lawnmower, Dan gave his parents a framed photo of the three of them on some vacation they'd all taken together, Scott got Leanne concert tickets to a band Herbert had never heard of before, and Dan opened several more presents from his parents and extended family. Herbert observed it all from his comfy spot on the floor. It seemed like a scene out of a holiday movie, full of smiles, looks of fondness, and family cheer. With the warmth of the fireplace and the scraps of torn wrapping paper at his feet, Herbert felt cosy in a way he never had on Christmas before. His Christmases were usually spent doing his summer homework from his room, watching the snow fall outside and wondering if his mother would force him to accompany her to a charity dinner.

"This one's for you, Herbert dear."

Herbert's reverie popped like a soap bubble as he came back to himself and blinked at the silver polka-dotted parcel Leanne was holding out to him. He took it without thinking, then frowned down at it in confusion.

"For me?"

"Yes, of course!" Leanne said, her hands knitted together on her lap. "I knew I had to get you something as soon as I knew you'd be spending Christmas with us. It's such a shame you can't be with your own family this year, but I hope you feel at home with us, all the same."

His parents were actually spending Christmas together for once, though it was in France, without Herbert. His father was there for business reasons, and his mother had insisted she come along, though that invitation had not been extended to their son. It suited Herbert just fine- no stuffy dinners to attend with his mother, spent being paraded and ordered to play little ditties on the piano- but Dan had been appalled when he'd told him.

"You can't spend Christmas alone," Dan had insisted.

"I won't be alone," Herbert had replied. "Colette will be there."

Dan had rolled his eyes at this. "Your maid doesn't count. No. No way. You're coming over to my house, no questions asked."

In the present, Herbert blinked at the three faces pointed his way. That uncomfortable itch was back, scraping at the nape of his neck. He had to look away, tugging at a thread on his elbow.

"Thank you, but, um. I didn't get you anything," he admitted, to which Leanne waved him off.

"Don't you worry about that. I just saw this and knew you had to have it."

"Yeah," Scott agreed, one arm around his wife's shoulders. "Go ahead, Champ. Open it up."

Herbert's eyes sought Dan, who gave him an encouraging nod. Herbert swallowed down against the dryness in his throat and did just that, peeling back the paper until a bright sweater revealed itself. He picked it up and held it out before him, the knitted wool rolling down to reveal the image woven into the fabric.

"Oh, Mom, that's great," Dan said.

"I know!" Leanne squealed, slapping Scott's leg. "Isn't it just perfect for him?"

In the middle of the green sweater was a picture of Albert Einstein wearing a Santa hat. A chain of what looked like gingerbread men holding hands was knitted into the hem of the sweater, making a ring around the waist. The cuffs were white with little atom symbols embroidered around the circumference.

"It might be a little big on you, Hon, but that's okay," Leanne said.

Dan knocked his knee against Herbert's and nodded at the garment. "Put it on," he urged.

Herbert, not knowing what else to do, wordlessly obeyed. He pulled the sweater over his head, taking care to not let the woolen strands get caught on his glasses. He threaded his arms through the sleeves then stared down at Einstein peering out from his chest. Leanne beamed, watching for his reaction.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

Herbert nodded, trailing his fingers along the soft wool. "Yes, thank you."

Leanne clapped her hands together excitedly. In that moment, she greatly resembled Dan getting ready to tear into some presents.

"I'm so glad," she sighed, pressing a hand over her breast. Then, with a click of her tongue, she rose to her feet, Scott's arm slipping from her shoulders. "Now, come along, you boys. Your eggs are getting cold."

"Yes, Maam," Scott grunted as he pushed himself from the sofa and followed after her.

He ruffled Dan's hair, earning him a cry of protest from his son, and patted Herbert's shoulder. Herbert stared at that hand on his shoulder, Scott's hand big and rough from a career spent toiling in gardens. His touch was there only for a moment, gone in a second, as though he hadn't even thought about the action at all. He paced after his wife, leaving Herbert and Dan alone by the tree.

Dan waited until his parents' voices grew faint as they entered the kitchen before turning to Herbert and speaking softly. "Well? How're you liking your first real Christmas morning?"

"Good," Herbert replied, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. "There are slightly less singing snowmen and elves than I'd anticipated, but this is still very nice."

Dan's eyebrows bumped up towards his hairline. "What kind of movies have you been watching? Without me?" When Herbert made a big show of shrugging innocently, Dan's expression broke into a grin and he ducked his chin down. Leaning forward, he murmured into Herbert's ear, "For what it's worth, I'm really happy your here. Everything's way better when you're around."

Herbert had to press his lips into a straight, hard line to keep them from doing something stupid, like tilting into a lopsided, lovesick smile. That's what being in love with Dan was like though: sickening.

"I'm glad too," was all he replied with, but Dan's smile didn't dim.

"After breakfast, we can go sledding," he said, then nodded at the window. "Look. It's snowing."

Herbert turned and saw that Dan was right. Some time since they'd woken up, snow had begun to gently fall from the sky, adding to the piles of chilly white clumps blanketing the ground. The outside world looked like a giant hand had coated everything with glittering frosting. Children were already racing out of their homes, padded in layers of coats and scarves, to build snowmen and throw snowballs at each other. Just watching them made draw his knees up to his chest and bask in the bubble of warmth that was the Cain living room.

Dan pressed a hand to Herbert's back as they both watched the neighbourhood children play. He could feel that Dan wanted to do more- hug or embrace him- but with his parents only in the next room, it was impossible. Herbert cherished that hand though, leaned back against Dan's touch, simply luxuriating in him being so near.

"That sounds like fun," Herbert said, and Dan laughed.

Maybe he could learn to love Christmas if he could spend them all like this.

[sysig]

Sorry, I can’t, I’m just too cute today 💕 (Patreon)

[floralegia]

(you can say no to any of my requests btw LOL) #21, poly fob with pete in the middle 😈

"Patrick," Joe groans, "do something about him."

Patrick snorts from across the little living area as their bus rattles down the highway. "Why me?"

"He listens to you!"

"Sometimes. He listens to me sometimes. Don't you think if he was listening to me right now, I would have done something already?"

Pete scowls at the both of them, arms crossed, slouching down into the couch. They're a couple of assholes, is what they are. He's bored, okay? It's not his fault there's nothing to fucking do right now. He doesn't have cell signal out here in buttfuck nowhere, he's already read every book he brought on tour and watched every DVD on this bus at least twice, and trying to write earlier was an exercise in futility.

He turns a pleading look at Andy, the last bastion of hope that maybe one of these dudes who like to claim they love him will show him a little bit of sympathy, but alas, Andy just quirks an eyebrow at him, not giving an inch. "You're kind of being a little shit," he says, not budging even when Pete pouts, just flipping through his issue of Modern Drummer.

"I am not!"

"Pete, you literally haven't shut up since the last time we stopped for fuel. Which was three hours ago." Joe does not sound especially impressed as he says this. If nothing else, Pete would have hoped he'd respect the dedication, but apparently no dice.

Pete groans, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. "You guys aren't normally this boring."

"Well," Andy says mildly, not even looking up from his magazine, "if you keep this up for much longer, we're gonna have to find a way to put your mouth to better use."

Everything freezes for a split second; even the road noise and the constant rush of air outside the bus windows seems to fall away. As the quiet drags on, Pete feels a slow smile creep across his face, widening into a shit eating grin. He'd known Andy would be at least a little sympathetic to his case. His guys always do pull through for him in the end.

"Works for me," he chirps happily, and without further ado, he scampers across the living area to throw himself to his knees at Andy's feet. Somewhere behind him, Joe's spluttering and Patrick's scoffing at the sudden change in atmosphere, something about how Andy shouldn't give in or negotiate with terrorists or whatever, but Pete literally couldn't care less anymore. Andy's rolling his eyes a little, but smiling down at him, and he even sets his magazine aside as he starts to wriggle out of his basketball shorts, so as far as Pete's concerned, things are really looking up.

For all their bitching, Pete's barely had Andy in his mouth for a minute--still soft, though hardening with every heartbeat--when he feels hands in his hair and looks up to see Joe and Patrick settling in above him on the couch, one on either side. He winks at them and gets an eyeroll back in stereo, but the fingers combing through his hair and petting at his face don't go anywhere, and he lets his eyes fall blissfully shut. He's practically purring, especially when Patrick's grip in his hair tightens to tug him further onto Andy's dick, or when Joe leans down to tweak his nipple, or when Andy says, "Good boy, Pete, doing so good."

And Pete just smiles (as best he can with a mouth full of dick, anyway) and leans into it, feeling his brain settle like he's been desperately hoping for all afternoon. This, this is perfect--not necessarily what he was angling for, per se, but honestly better than any boredom-buster he could have dreamed up. Trust his guys to come up with a perfect solution for him. Well, okay, mostly Andy, but he'll give Joe and Patrick participation points, at least. He's feeling awfully giving all of a sudden.

Giving, and so not bored anymore. Never let it be said that being a bit of a little shit sometimes doesn't work out for him, in the end.

[sillyabtmusic]

YOUR TAGS 😭😭😭😭😭 omg friend i am losing my mind 😭🫶 it's so special to be a part of a joke between you and your mom and also your own brain chemistry (???? 😭) truly appalling and awesome and i am honored

ALKDFJALDKJF very glad to hear you find it special because when i was tracking it down to reblog i for sure thought it'd be a bigger post then it was like 9 notes and i felt so silly reblogging it 😭 but yeah pretty much your ramblings about jongho and hongjoong are permanently embedded in my psyche now 🫶

[random-kido]

Outlier ability that your body can’t fully support is kinda fucking stupid but also I feel like an earthquake ability that reaches 7 on the Richter scale and that allows you to kick people into orbit (this is canonical) is kinda too good for him so I’m nerfing his ass a little

[itoshi-s]

the blurb u posted about the rin & sae-nii 3sum reminded me of your itoshi divide poll lol- that being said, sae 100% degrades in this scenario and rin praises, but do u think they’d switch up at any point? 👀 cuz I personally think sae degrades like 90% of the time but still praises if ur really really good for him & then rin def gives more praise, still will degrade once in a while tho <33

(also I send u asks often so might as well claim an emoji :3 -🪷)

blurb in question!

UH OH i think they def switch up sometimes!

sae is the embodiment of tough love, will lure you in until you can't help but give in to him. but barely a second later he's in your ear, telling you how fucked up it is of you to be enjoying this :( (as if he's not like 3 thrusts away from spilling himself lol make up ur mind boy!!!!) i like to think of him as a bit of brat tamer if you will?? you really wish you could be on ur best behavior for him, but he's so rough and mean with his actions alone - and all your whining grants you all the more demeaning words instead. sae rly does know how to put that sharp mouth of his to good use :,3 makes you believe that all this whining and whimpering isn't going to get you anywhere - but truly, there's nothing else that gets him harder !! that being said, he'd definitely switch up as soon as you're reaching your limit i think - and it usually comes right around when he's just about to finish, too, so he naturally gets a little vulnerable as well. he'll squeeze your face in his hand and give you all the sweetest kisses, mumbling out praises and calling you his best girl :( he presses his lips to your reddened cheeks, where his fingers dug just moments ago, and wipes every tear away. he really does love his imouto so, so much, even if the way he treats you might be telling a whole different story!! :,)

rin on the other hand naturally gravitates to giving praise simply because he truly wants to reward you for being so good, yk?? i think sae's def more dismissive about the whole.. thing going on between you two - he knows it's not right by any book, but doesn't pay it much mind - and rin is the opposite. he doesn't feel bad per se, either, don't get me wrong!!, but it's also exactly what gets him off so much at the very same time. the way you give yourself to him, despite all moralities and common sense.. :( maybe he's lying to himself, and you, too, when he tells you how good you are, so eager to please and solely focused on him and making him feel better than anyone else in the world ever could. either way, he doesn't rly care. he means all of that, he really does, so he speaks the honeyed words without any filter at all. he can be so rough with you, hands tight around your neck until you're wheezing, hips bruising yours for what seems like hours now, but he's still holding you so close, eyes full of stars and mouth spilling the heavenliest of praises :( rin can be a lot, really, so he has to make sure you know he's so, so proud of you for taking it so well :( one of the situations where i can see him switching completely is when you start to act up a little too much - shying away from his touches, snapping at him (as if it's not natural for siblings to do that ??), giving him attitude in general. even worse if it's around sae!!!!! WHEW. he CAN be mean, and you know it, yet it always takes you aback anyways. rin's very passionate in his touches alone, always rough and greedy with his actions and it's hard to take him like this already - so imagine how insufferable he is when upset or annoyed </3 honestly i can see him with an even fouler mouth than sae's if you push the wrong buttons. he can and will make you cry lol AND sneer at you when he sees the tears :( BONUS: that's when sae will also soften up for sure !!!! switch up his role and be the knight in shining armor instead. probably tells rin to slow down and go easier on you, cause c'mon, why are you so mean all of a sudden, rin? and it only makes things worse :,) now he's pissed off because of both of u. good luck taking it lol

[dracoserpentis]

@honorhearted

a light drizzle meets thorndil, skies above the city awash with streaks of green and blue. the day has been quieter than most as of late, the excitment of conflict to the east of which her parents had saved the lady myra from imprisonment having finally passed. though worrying talk had still plagued her mind. images of dark armies morphing into a kind of dark plague washing over the land in her dreams. myra's talk of things she had seen had had brought forth hushed tones among court of a time foretold even if many did not give such credence. they had always believed such a threat would come from the unknown reaches to the north not the east. lyliana wished her brother was there, for at least she'd have him to speak with for as rash as he could be at times he always seemed able to quell her fears and chase her nightmares away if only just by providing a comforting embrace. of course she could have spoken to sir ben but.. despite how silly such a thought was she didn't want him to think her weak for having such fears. he'd always been her most loyal friend and it had usually been her thrusting them into danger-- even if said danger was merely mingling secretly with the peoples of the city or venturing into the darhk forest when young. she'd always appeared the princess she was supposed to be, strong and brave. not a silly girl with nightmares of a time that perhaps would never come to pass in the first place.

darkness begins to meet the sky awhile later, the sun lowering as the twin moons appear just past the rings and she wonders what the sky might look like far way as she stands near the window of her chambers. she's heard tales the planets rings look different elsewhere, altering the whole look of the sky. <we could go there one day, i've seen it, i can show you.> the thought is projected into her mind from apo, blue hues washing over the city as she sees the dragon, his morph first dark and then turning golden as he soared above buildings and toward the dragon pits to rest. <maybe one day but not today. i think sir poe is still recovering from my last unexpected excursion. maybe sir ben is too.> she projects back, smiling. the tension in her shoulders eases and she decides to go in search of her youngest brother. one of her guard outside her door acknowledges her and she frowns slightly at the unexpectedness of who it is. wasn't sir ramsey supposed to be her guard for the evening? she had made a point to know of such things, determined that she was kind and friendly to all her guards and not just the one she'd grown up with. lyliana questions such being informed sir ramsey had been ill and required a healer, perhaps having eaten something which had not agreed with him. she has no reason to question it, further stating that she should visit him in the infirmary following finding prince cormac.

her door remains open still when strange sounds begin to emit through the palace. there's a scream that causes her pause, then metal clanking far down the corridor. alarm creases her features as sir edris moves closer to her, seemingly to usher her back inside her room, however he grabs her arm instead all pretense lost and a strange darkness covering his eyes like black glass. she questions what he's doing, shoving at him as he begins to unsheathe his sword. there's a loud crashing sound somewhere outside the palace, shaking the floor for a moment as if something large has attempted to break into the space. it gives her an opening to yank herself away from sir edris, the large vines outside her window directed toward him as she falls to the floor and he after her. he swings his sword at the vines before attempting to stab at her. he nearly succeeds, a large cut to her arm spilling blood on the floor of her chambers before she rolls away. her vines falter for a moment before she redirects them back toward him and when he attempts to stab her again she sends them through his neck though she's not entirely sure such was what she intended. lyliana doesn't have time to allow herself to comprehend what's just happened or what she's just done, her grabbing at his sword before moving out of her chambers. she's in kind of daze, apo sending her flashes gates opening and a dark army moving into the city though she can not quite muster actual words to send to him or understand fully what he's trying to communicate to her other than there was no means for a dragon to enter the castle so a dragon wasn't going to save her from whatever was happening.

another person, a knight for twins sake charges at her, the same look in his features, and she raises the sword against him. she may not be as skilled as jayson or ben when it comes to swordplay but she knows enough. she needs to get to her brother. to her mother and her father. but first her brother. he'd be the least able to defend himself. she manages to shove the knight down the stairs before she's moving again. but what she finds when she gets to cormac's chambers sends a chill through her body. his guards are dead outside the ajar door and she nearly drops the sword then and there despite the sounds of conflict coming from all directions now. her footfalls are slow, too slow, as she pushes the door open and it's then the worst and most blood-curling shrill scream escapes her. she moves into the space, nearly falling onto the queen and prince's bodies on the floor, her mother's lifeless body protectively over her brothers. blood, too much blood littering them. the sword falls as she shakes her mother first and then her brother but.. there was no life left in them. she can't breathe. she can't think. they have to come back. they have to. this wasn't real. it couldn't be.

her scream, or was it screams? not even she knows have attracted attention, two men who she recognizes as having seemingly been imprisoned with myra before her parents saved her appearing in the doorway. they don't have the same darkness washing over their eyes but they do have hate and malice in them. they move into her brother's chambers and she scrambles for the sword trying to protect her mother and brother unable to accept them truly fallen. but they are larger than her, quicker, and their sight is not clouded by tears. she tries to strike out at them but the sword is knocked from her, one of them, the one without a sword so that his hands were free grabs her as the other with his back toward the door seeks to stab her too. in the distance her dragon screeches violently over the city, sound booming given his size and age as he like the now fallen dragon of her brother's tries to break through a palace wall with fire and sheer force of his body.

"why? why are you doing this? we helped you!" she's struggling violently, seeking answers if it is to be the last moments she has and praying others.. ben, her father, and so many others still lived. but then she realizes with the sick and twisted expression of the man with the sword staring at her as he points it toward her the true depth of betrayal. "it was all a trick. myra never was a prisoner was she? this is what you wanted, wasn't it?!" she doesn't get a response and anger rises within her as she stares back at the man, unwilling to grant him fear in her death. there is no peace as she realizes she's about to die, no, anger is all she has. "the twins will see you pay for this! my brother will hunt you down and you will burn for this!"

[writing-good-vibes]

🌝 very curious

ahh bestie !! 🥰💗 thank you for asking the most difficult question, because it turns out i really did not have an answer for this one, and i will be revealing the my ineffable "gaining a new interest" -> "actually writing fanfiction" pipeline lol

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

the thing about my writing is that there are many, many, many characters that i love but could never write for, either because i just don't have the skill to contribute something i'd be happy to share, or because the source material doesn't lend itself well to the vehicle of fanfiction and the standard transformative avenues that come with it. it definitely comes down to my own personal line of what i consider writable.

it's not that i think the characters i do write about are lesser characters, in many ways they mean way more to me because i can write about them, but they are from media which readily fosters fandom/fanfiction. characters which i can love and project onto while also maintaining and building upon their canonical characteristics are the fanfiction sweet spot for me.

halloween ends has been my main interest for over a year now (which is very scary to think about lol), so it's hard to even imagine writing for other characters even with the fandom decline because i have such a tight grasp on my paper-doll corey that i carry around everywhere. what my brain latches onto is really driven by the will of the universe, and i have very little say in the matter lol.

however !! a few characters i can see myself dabbling with, should the interest strike, are: lisa and the creature from lisa frankenstein (2024); severen from near dark (1987); frank from the hardy boys (2020); ethan, sam, tara, richie and amber from scream/scream vi (2021-2022); and sam from gen v (2023).

then a few more characters who i would love to write about but don't really have the skill set for: the narrator, tyler and marla from fight club (1999); felix and oliver from saltburn (2023); pearl from pearl (2022) or maxine from x (2022); and maybe some the characters from the secret history (1992), particularly henry.

[thebigshotman]

I’ve decided I’m going to reply to threads in the morning; there’s a couple event-prep related things I need to write and I don’t want to start replies and then not be able to finish them in one go. But! To make up for that, here are a couple of headcanons I’ve thought of for Spaul recently! And once again, thank you all for the Halloween interactions yesterday 😊 I loved them all!

Now onto the HCs…

So Eileen’s @hxzelwallflower nickname of [Hazelnut] came mainly from her URL…but recently I realized Spaul has no in universe way of knowing that lol. I initially thought that he got it from her hazel hair and eyes but then thought: “No! You know what? He probably just looked through the source code and saw the URL when he was having trouble sleeping one night and “hazel” stuck with him”! Because Spamton as a character is just aware of the fourth-wall like that 🤣 Just don’t expect him to admit to that being where it got it from, what with his awareness suppression and everything.

NEW (from like a month ago lol) SPAMTON’S SHOP ANIMATION ROLL UP ROLL UP (cw for a lot of loud sounds one right after the other towards the end if you’re sensitive to that though). Honestly the voice work is amazing, it would probably be Spaul’s new VC if NiftyTable’s take didn’t hit that “gremlin voice” spot for me. Plus the fact that it’s not a direct adaptation of the script definitely endears it to me too 😆 But that’s not the headcanon lol

I noticed both shop animations include Spamton constantly switching between normal body language and acting out the body language of his voice clips, and while that is indeed uncanny and cool looking that doesn’t really work in an RP setting. But after this second animation, I have decided that whenever Spaul’s voice clips are particularly long (i.e “[[amazed at this amazing transformation? You too can]]”) he does indeed sort of jerkily, like a puppet being pulled by strings, get forced into acting out whatever the body language of that voice clip would be while his lenses go dark. The alternative is him standing there dumb, glaring at his throat while it plays, and that’s not nearly as fun 😄

I feel like it serves a little reminder that he can be unsettling as well as goofy lol! Imagine that happening in the middle of him talking to Eileen, as it very well most likely has in the past. Poor girl 😅

Finally, here are a few songs I associate with Spamton/Spaul that no one else seems to! Or very few people if that. With explainations!

Step Right Up by Tom Waits. This song is literally just a bunch of advertising jargon strung together with no rhyme or reason, some of it flat out contradicting each other or suggesting the product is harmful. And of course there’s the one moment where the speaker snaps about heartbreak lol. All of that over a very city slicker instrumental! Think of this as a non-fan song Ad Infinitum lol, it just keeps going. Check it out!

Let’s Get This Over With by They Might Be Giants. Once the second verse hit it was all over: “Even when you’re out of work you still have a job to do…(a few lines later) I’m talking to myself even when I’m saying ‘you’”. The bridge as well, which calls to mind his speech glitch. This one’s more about the vibe then all of the lyrics, but definitely check it out too!

The Other Side from the Greatest Showman. IT’S LITERALLY A GUY MAKING A DEAL WITH SOMEONE. WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED 🤣 I always end up channeling Spam when I’m singing this song to myself anymore

[ofpd]

do you have a les mis fic rec list 👀

yeah i am somehow able to make one which is insane bc i usually don't even read fic. the only time ive ever read this much fic before was when i was into atla which like. that was a hyperfixation strong enough to get me onto this website. exr has such an effect on me... (and yeah almost all of this is gonna be exr. naturally)

i assume you've read or at least heard of world ain't ready, but i'd be remiss not to mention it! the thing with this fic is that it's the ultimate exception to every preference i tend to have with exr fic—it's a modern au, it ends with them having a good, loving, requited, healthy relationship (and with them being alive), and it's often cheesy in a very fanfic way. and so i was really not expecting to enjoy it nearly as much as i did. like, i really really loved it. it's genuinely quite well-written with compelling characterizations and it really does an amazing job of fulfilling the need i sometimes have for them to just. be happy and alive and loving each other. it's possibly the fic i spend the most time thinking about.

the other long fic that i've been really into (i'd say it's probably my favorite les mis fic i've read) is beautiful & good. it starts off slow, but i promise the buildup is worth it. i really love the way in which their relationship is developed throughout—it always feels realistic, in character, and interesting. and it's just so enjoyable to read (and often very funny!), and there's always something new (or many things) that makes me go insane every chapter. it also is the most interesting fic i've read when it comes to them having sex & their characterizations wrt it. actually, the thing that compelled me to read this fic in the first place was a friend telling me that, at one point in it, enjolras says that penatrative sex isn't egalitarian. i really love when they're so insane....

i've actually read all of that author's les mis fics, and i don't remember there being a single one i disliked. but some favorites include epiphanies (woah crazy another modern au), the pursuit of light (the token non-exr fic on this list woah), in lutetia, and the loves of les amis.

another favorite is, of course, ta bouche de ciel by my bestie lucy @jondrettegirls <3. there are lots of things i love about it (which makes sense, like lucy and i are friends in part bc we have such similar tastes w this kind of thing) but one way in which it stands out is that it's the only fic i can think of that i've read that has examination of the concept of beauty as it relates to both normative cultural ideals and to exr as a prevalent theme.

and some other shorter fics i've really liked include thorns and all (which i found bc i was curiously looking through the exr hanahaki tag. this was the only one in it that i particularly enjoyed and oh my god. parts of it made me so insane), put to the sword (among other things in this fic, i love how weird r is about spirituality! just like me fr), and into the light (which is as close as any fic comes to being My ExR Canon tbh).

hope you enjoy!