#though in the latter it still does get dark. its just dark in a different way

[angelsaxis]

now im reading my other book (abbreviated TMK even though now it should just be TM) and akjshdflksa these kids are so cute. its nice to be able to write teens as teens rather than teens as Small Adults if that makes sense

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts. 

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her. 

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were. 

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you. 

“Potter” you smirked. 

“Going to the match today?” 

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him. 

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall. 

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended. 

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted. 

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you. 

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted. 

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate. 

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag. 

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled. 

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?” 

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates. 

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused. 

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate. 

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain. 

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said. 

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?” 

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked. 

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously. 

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged. 

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?” 

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate. 

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious. 

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added. 

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused. 

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended. 

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!” 

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?” 

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy. 

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?” 

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled. 

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor. 

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly. 

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face. 

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed. 

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you. 

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged. 

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented. 

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled. 

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James. 

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you. 

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said. 

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?” 

“Okay, fair” you sighed. 

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress. 

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her. 

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you. 

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup. 

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said. 

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little. 

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled. 

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled. 

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?” 

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little. 

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered. 

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly. 

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled. 

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm. 

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first. 

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you. 

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked. 

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him. 

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!” 

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted. 

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him. 

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-” 

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated. 

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you. 

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him. 

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?” 

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said. 

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little. 

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted. 

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added. 

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden. 

“Nothing” Remus quickly said. 

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?” 

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself. 

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously. 

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink. 

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes. 

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him. 

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets.  You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well. 

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you. 

“Oh” you smiled wearily. 

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said. 

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head. 

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved. 

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside. 

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused. 

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused. 

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added. 

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off. 

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added. 

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.  

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you. 

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink. 

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window. 

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around. 

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you. 

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little. 

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?” 

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself. 

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little. 

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?” 

“Of course I did” he chuckled. 

“James” you glared at him. 

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you. 

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed. 

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged. 

“James!” you laughed. 

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted. 

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed. 

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way. 

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?” 

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?” 

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning. 

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious. 

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly. 

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted. 

“But how can you not believe me about that?” 

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink. 

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?” 

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush. 

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?” 

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly. 

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop. 

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile. 

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus. 

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously. 

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained. 

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips. 

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

[imaginariumwanderer]

So I finished the latest story...

This is pretty horrifying from a cookie's perspective. One of cookiekind's main forms of happiness is their ability to express their various colorful flavors/personality. I suppose it's the same thing as tripping a living human of their sentient and individuality. Ego death. Leaving behind hollow flesh

We be committing unspeakable crimes against nature with this one✨

We be crumbling our colleagues while slowly losing our mind with this one✨

On another note, "eyecing" make its glorious return. I have no memory of it being used before the Mystic Flour update. Can anyone point out the other times it was used, if there's any?

????!!!!! OMG HIIII

MORE CJ PAWLIKOWSKI VOICE ACTING YES YES YES

Don't do it, don't give me hope...

I know he's the last to be released u don't need to tease me like that

So the other-space here clearly refer to the Dark side of the Moon, right? Is there any other-space I don't know about? Also, I guess this confirmed Shadow Milk is the only one able to do this astral projection thing. On one hand, it increases his chance of appearing a bit more before his own update, on the other hand, we most likely won't see the other Beasts having any talking-role any time soon

The implications here...

So the Beasts may likely have their own voices of their Light just like the Ancients does. And "Soul Jam"... Without an (s), Shadow Milk is specifically referring to his Soul Jam here, I can't believe my headcanon of the Light of Deceit/Knowledge whispering things to him is becoming true

It's a thing unique to Shadow Milk and not the other Beasts too. Interesting how both the voices of the Light of Truth and Deceit operate differently from the other Lights' (referring to the theory that the Light of Truth have never make an actual appearance since all instances of it in-game were all Shadow Milk's disguise)

... Clownage. Whelp! time to integrate that into my daily vocabulary!

Alright, so we got confirmation Smilk is not only aware of Dark Enchantress' plans but he's actively helping her out. Whenever he's oblivious to her other, secret plans (stealing the Beasts' Soul Jams) or he's aware and already have a counter measures to it though, is still up in the air.

My money is on the latter. Shadow Milk have shown time and time again he's way more knowledgeable than he let on. The way Dark Enchantress was depicted in his previous "play" does show us a certain level of... Appreciation(?) but who's to say he actually trusts her? It really does feel like a "I rub your back if you rub mine and then we'll backstab each other" kind of deal. Now I'm curious about the other Beasts' opinions on Dark Enchantress as well.

Where's Dark Enchantress anyways? We haven't seen her make any on-screen appearance in a while. I, um, I missed her a lot actually. I missed the diabolical meema

Laughing at Wind Archer cookie repeatedly telling Smilk to stfu from the moment they've met. He's saying what we've all been thinking

Also laughing at Shadow Milk basically only here to make cryptic riddles and mocks our Wind Archer. He really does have nothing better to do lol

Yeah that's right, FRIENDSHIP will save the day!

For real tho, tons of intriguing implications about the Ultimate Cookie with this one. I gotta mulls over them for awhile...

GUYS NEW SMILK'S SPRITE JUST DROPPED

HE'S ROLLING HIS EYES. HE'S SO DONE I'M DEAD

"In conclusion, this changed nothing!"

Kidding, kidding! I was getting real worried for Wind Archer there despite knowing full-well it's not crk's style to let something happen to a character unless they're a minor villain or an elderly *grinding my teeth trying not to bring up Elder Faerie again oops too late-*

The unexpected yet sweet moment of empathy Wind Archer have toward the Ultimate Cookie combined with the stunning animation toward the end were definitely my favorite part of this little adventure. Although I half-expected for him to have his magical girl transformation like White Lily and Dark Cacao right then and there-

"Beast-Yeast EP 5 coming soon to theaters near you! Remember to stay tuned, mkay? Okie dokie? Pinkie promiseee?"

[mysticstronomy]

DOES DARK ENERGY EXIST??

Blog#423

Wednesday, July 31st, 2024.

Welcome back,

The dominating form of energy in the cosmos, dark energy is driving the accelerating expansion of the universe, but its nature remains a complete mystery.

Dark energy is a hypothetical form of energy that is proposed by physicists to explain why the universe is not just expanding but is doing so at an accelerating rate.

Think of dark energy as the "evil counterpart" to gravity–an "anti-gravity" force providing a negative pressure that fills the universe and stretches the very fabric of spacetime.

As it does so dark energy drives cosmic objects apart at an increasingly rapid rate rather than drawing them together as gravity does.

Dark energy is estimated to account for between around 68% to 72% of the universe's total energy and matter  —  its matter/energy budget  —  meaning it heavily dominates both dark matter and everyday matter.

The only real answer to the question "what is dark energy?" currently is "we don't know" as unsatisfactory as that may be. Scientists aren't completely in the dark, however. There are some leading candidates to account for dark energy.

These include the vacuum energy of space  —  particles literally popping in and out of existence in empty space — and a "fifth force" responsible for the negative pressure that might cause the accelerated expansion of the universe.

Other possibilities a range of different "flavors" of fields that could account for dark energy such as a low-energy field dubbed "quintessence," fields of tachyons  —  hypothetical particles that travel faster than light and thus back in time  —  among other concepts.

All of these remain purely hypothetical meaning that the only way we can really "know" dark energy currently is via its effect on the universe.

If dark energy is causing the universe to expand at an accelerating rate, shouldn't we see our coffee mug shift away from us or notice our commute to work getting longer each day?

We don't see things like this happen (even though it may feel like we do sometimes) because objects that are gravitationally bound such as stars, planetary systems, star clusters, galaxies, clusters of galaxies, and even our coffee mug and table, don't seem to experience dark energy's effects. Gravity still beats dark energy at small scales.

Dark energy only seems to act on the largest scales of the universe, with the expansion of the universe a phenomenon that can only be measured by observing galaxies and other cosmic objects that are separated by massive gulfs of space in the order of millions, billions, and even tens of billions of light-years apart and away from us. And the greater the distance that separates these cosmic objects, the more rapidly they race away from each other.

As a simple analogy for this, imagine drawing three spots on a deflated balloon, two close together and the other further apart. In this analogy, dark energy is the breath blowing into the balloon overcoming gravity which is represented by the tension of the balloon's rubber skin. As the balloon is inflated all three points will move away from each other, but the furthest point will move away more rapidly.

This is like three galaxies, two close together and the other further apart, the latter of which is moving away faster because the space between it and the other galaxies, like the rubber of the balloon, is stretching, and more space means more expansion.

Currently, scientists estimate that galaxies are getting 0.007% further away from each other every million years. American theoretical astrophysicist Ethan Siegel explained in a column for Big Think that in "real terms" for a cosmic object 100 million light-years away astronomers infer it is receding at 1,336 miles per second (2,150 kilometers per second). Meanwhile, a galaxy 1 billion light-years away is receding 10 times faster at around 13,360 miles per second (21,500 km/s).

Originally published on https://www.space.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, August 3rd, 2024)

"WHY DO PLANETS SPIN??"

[mobileleprechaun]

On Home, Wally, and their dynamic

Warning: Big Long Post! Rambly. Speculative!

In the early days of the Welcome Home fandom, it was often speculated that Home's role in the narrative was antagonistic, one defined by coercive control and abuse of Wally. This idea of a sinister, manipulative Home has inspired many AUs, pieces of fanart and has overall made a big impression on the fandom's perspective of Home as a character.

While this still remains very possible as an outcome, especially given that the series is still in its prologue, a lot of what I've observed in the latest update has painted a very different picture in my mind.

Below are some miscellaneous observations, both from the update and from information we had prior to the update.

Wally is excited about Eddie potentially being able to lift Home in the storybook recording, as he would like Home to be able to get a hot dog from Howdy's bodega like he and Barnaby always do.

Wally speaks often of his love for Home in the guestbook, and even writes Home's signature for it at the bottom of the page.

Home is shown, in a famous piece of art on Clown's Tumblr, to be the "plus-one" Wally would invite to a wedding, and he's shown smiling fondly at it through the window of the chapel while it peers in from outside.

This piece of promotional art, as well as this crayon drawing from the April Fool's Day prank where Wally briefly took over Clown's Twitter to post his drawings, show a big Wally cradling a small Home in his arms. This is an inversion of their actual relationship, as Wally is just a little guy and Home is a great big house. In the latter drawing, Wally has obsessively written Home's name over and over again.

In the bug vignette featuring Barnaby and Home on the page with the script, Barnaby understands Home perfectly when it speaks and has a fluent back and forth with it. Its responses to him seem amused and sarcastic, and it generally looks to be having fun bantering with him and sassing him. When Barnaby becomes concerned for Wally at the end, Home's noises sound concerned and urgent, like worried questions. It's concerned for Wally's change in behavior too.

Conversely, Wally is shown in his audio excerpts from the show to be socially-awkward and unable to comprehend things like sarcasm and turns of phrase. At his best, he sounds like he's saying things he's rehearsed before. At his worst, especially in the audio messages he leaves, he struggles even to speak, as though he cannot find the right word or that speech itself is hard on him. He begins to hyperventilate and lose his grasp on proper intonation in the latter recordings, likely out of distress or frustration.

In the Morse code message on the So Below page, most people interpret what Home is saying as either "help" or "hello". The former indicates distress on its part, while the latter indicates it trying to go along with Wally, as he introduced it in the previous audio message and explained (while struggling not to hyperventilate) that it makes noises.

In the picture of Wally and Home in "So Below", Home's eye is shuddering in seeming distress while Wally is knelt at its window. Although this is commonly interpreted as an act of worship, Home does not look particularly happy or powerful here. Wally's outstretched hand may be caressing it, or otherwise trying to pat or soothe it. Wally's eyes shudder in a similar manner in the "Stay Quiet" page.

The dark substance beneath Home has begun leaking to the point that it is now visible on the desktop version of the Neighborhood page. This is very likely the same substance mentioned on the secret, staff-only page, which apparently causes "nausea, dizziness and fatigue" upon physical contact.

The impression that I've gotten from this is that Home and Wally are more akin to intimate peers – siblings, very close friends, possibly even romantic partners* – than they are to an abusive guardian and their child. Much of what I'm about to say is speculative, and may not hold up after further updates, but it's nonetheless the vibe I'm getting.

Wally and Home have a deep understanding of one another, deeper even than Wally's friendship with Barnaby. They are bound so tightly that one can scarcely exist without the other. Home shelters Wally within itself, granting him the sanctuary of its own body. Wally, in turn, grants Home a purpose as its inhabitant and tends to its needs, always making sure to help it feel included in neighborhood activities. Both are seen doting on one another with the sort of fondness only years of intimate familiarity can bring. Each is attuned to (and interested in) the other's needs.

Neither Home nor Wally are doing well at this point in the narrative. Wally is audibly deteriorating when he addresses us (or the Question-Answerer) in the audio snippets. He's barely able to keep it together, and some sort of horrific distortion is slipping into his voice. Home, meanwhile, has only seen its sludge problem get worse, and does not seem able to do much at all besides the occasional response in Morse code. These utterances are few and far between, especially compared to how chatty and lively it seemed in the Barnaby vignette. It seems withdrawn, perhaps even exhausted. It is very likely sick.

Home has, up until this point, been "the strong one" in the relationship, as a house must be. In addition to bearing up its body as shelter for Wally, it may have carried the little fellow's social burdens, as it seems to hold its own very well in conversation. But now it's fallen ill. Gravely ill. It's unable to go and look for help, being a house, and is put in a precarious situation due to its immobility. None of the other neighbors are around to help it.

Wally cares for his Home deeply. He is grateful for its shelter and its friendship. He's the only one who can help it now – it's finally his turn to be strong. He wants desperately to protect it, to find help for it, and this is what drives him to reach out. But he doesn't know how one asks for help, or how even to describe the problem. His tranquil neighborhood never made him confront that reality, and he's now left floundering. Home can only watch helplessly, through a haze of sickness, as he humiliates himself again and again in his pained, futile struggle to be understood.

It's driving him mad. It's forcing him to feel emotions he can barely describe. Every attempt only serves to further terrorize the Question-Answerer and double his own anger and misery.

But he can't stop. He must be strong for Home. He will make his neighbor understand.

So TL;DR, I see it as less "Home has Wally trapped!" or "Wally is doing something bad to Home!" and more this heartbreaking nugget from Learning With Pibby. If Home is malevolent, I think Wally's going to be right there at its side. And if he manages not to be, I think it will be a tragic effect of the corruption rather than any innate badness Home has in it. I think we are shown how wonderful and precious this Home can be so it will be all the more heart-wrenching when that is no longer the case. At any rate, I am enthralled and am so grateful to be able to engage with this wonderful piece.

*I hate that I have to even say this, but – please don't misconstrue that I think siblings and romantic partners are the same thing, or any other implication therein. I'm an eldest sibling myself and find the idea abhorrent. I say this only because relationships in a text can be very ambiguous, and there are many flavors of closeness between people that share similarities.

Anyway, thank you so much if you read this far! Welcome Home has really given me the analysis bug again... heehee, bugs.

[plzu]

caricature of intimacy - (Miguel O'Hara x Venom!Symbiote!Reader)

summary: Miguel invites you to keep his cock warm while he works. warnings: explicit 18+ only (mdni), cockwarming, p in v sex, no Y/N, implied venom x reader, (mostly one-sided) hate fucking, the tiniest possibility of humiliation kink, interrupted orgasm, Miguel in civvies! a/n: part 3 of sleeping with roaches. title once again from P!ATD's Build God, Then We'll Talk. i've had this idea stewing for months and finally got a chance to write it. sorry for liking it when Miguel is mean. as if it's my fault. wordcount: 2.3k

Sometimes, it feels like Miguel may actually take pleasure in punishing you. Which, if you’re being honest, is hard to convince yourself of, given the way he carries himself. Like he’s the only person capable of solemnly bearing the brunt of the world (or worlds, rather) on his massive fucking shoulders. 

He doles out the responsibility of keeping you restrained, so to speak, with ever increasing proximity. It is a constant and cruel test of your discipline. How deep can he push himself inside you without 1) the symbiote overtaking you and 2) letting your trembling hands wander along his body.

Lately, though, it seems he's been getting more lenient regarding the latter. Maybe it's a test of will. Maybe he just likes this more than he'll ever be capable of admitting. Likes you more than he lets on, and he doesn't let on much. You fully believe he still hates your guts as deeply as he can reach 'em.

(And he can reach. It's a wonder you can stand at all after your onerous little trysts.)

Either way, your current predicament has you flush against him, body quivering from immense self-restraint and the overwhelming sensation crowding between your legs. Miguel allows your hands to clench at the fabric of his shirt, right at his chest. Your forehead rests between your shakings fists at his clavicle, which is hidden by said shirt and its wide-rimmed, almost bowl-like collar.

It’s a funny thing, seeing him in regular clothes. The fashion here is slightly different than where you’re from, which adds to the out-of-placeness it brings out in Miguel. Simple, yet futuristic, you suppose, given that this dimension is several decades ahead of your own, before it was crudely blipped out of existence. The soft white and gray material of the long-sleeved shirt does  something to mellow out Miguel’s typical dark and brooding aura. It’s nearly disarming, the way it makes you want to stare. Take in the way he looks almost… normal. Less creature of the night.

The casual outfit had certainly made you pause when you sought him out before. You blinked back surprise, wondering if you had wandered into the wrong room, if this Miguel was a different variant, not of Earth-928. Until he cut you with that familiar glare of disdain that only your Miguel could give you, and then accepted your offer to release any pent-up frustration. Only to surprise you again by commanding you to sit on his lap.

(“I’m busy, so you’re going to sit still while I work until I say you can move.”)

Maybe being fully clothed is why he’s allowing the proximity. The only bare part of him that you're allowed to touch is sheathed inside your heat -- the head of his cock pressed up against your cervix like a bruising promise. A delectable threat.

The clothes allow a modicum of distance between you. Nulls the intimacy that his exposed flesh might allow, skin against skin as you straddle his lap, stuffed with his cock.

Aside from being a barrier, you wonder if, maybe, there was an element of humiliation to the circumstance. While it was unlikely anyone would come across you two in his computer chair, in his very private office -- lab? -- it wasn't impossible. Some emergency could have one of the other Spider-folk bursting through, and they'd see you naked from the waist down, barely holding it together as Miguel coolly works on his computer.

Miguel would never let anyone else see him like this, of course, yet you can't help but wonder. He doesn't seem particularly pleased that the others seem to like you so much. It must be satisfying -- the idea that some of the others would change how they feel about you if they happened upon the sight of you quivering like a desperate little whore on their commander’s lap, while he remained clearly unaffected.

The seat Miguel works in is slightly reclined, so the orange glow of his holographic monitors spill over your back. Flashes here and there when he closes one and opens another. Miguel's focus on whatever information being displayed makes it seem like he's entirely unphased by the way you're soaking his lap.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the ache of his girth, and how badly you want to rut against his pelvis, you zone in on the barely-there audio coming through. The sounds of recorded fights with different anomalies. Vulture. Rhino. Sandman. Green Goblin.

But the hum of sound is much too quiet. It's drowned out by the thudding desperation pulsing in your ears. This would be easier, much more bearable, if he weren't so fucking big.

You whimper, probably. Make some pathetic sound, because you feel his attention shift. A slight turn of his head has his jaw closer to your forehead.

“Keep it together,” he warns, voice dipped into a molasses-thick gravel that only makes you wetter. You shudder against him, squeeze your eyes shut against the temptation of wanting to look at his face.

“M-Miguel,” you breathe, finding it difficult to talk around the feeling of him inside you.“H-how muh-much...”

“Until I say we're done.” 

This is frustrating. The thought isn’t exactly your own, but it mirrors your feelings. As much as Venom enjoys when Miguel has his way with you, he currently squirms with impatience beneath your skin. I do not like this one. You can feel the desire he has to snake out a tendril or two, use it in a way that would satisfy you both, but he knows better -- even the slightest hint of his appearance would disrupt this session. 

Despite the circumstances, this makes you huff a one-syllable laugh. A small puff of amusement that does not go unnoticed by Miguel.

“What’s funny?” he asks, mild irritation an undercurrent to his soft query.

You answer, after a beat. “Inside joke.”

That seems apt.

Miguel doesn’t seem to appreciate the pun so much, though. “That thing is not a part of this.”

Venom takes offense to that. I am a part of you, so I am a part of this whether he likes it or not!

“Don'worry,” you sigh, ignoring the symbiote in favor of lifting your head to peer up at Miguel's handsome, ticked off face. “Won't let him out. 'M a good girl.”

Miguel's nostrils flare at your words. His cock twitches inside you at the same time that his large hands clamp down against your waist, cementing you to his hips, preventing you from bucking against the brief friction.

Your mouth parts in a startled gasp. The feeling of his palms sears against your skin, warm and titillating flesh. 

His attention zeroes in on your mouth, his own lips peeling back into a snarl that traps a guttural sound behind his teeth.

And- you catch it again. The hungry look on his face as his eyes focus on your parted lips, the look that makes it feel like he wants to devour you. It sends a thrilling crackle of desire skittering along your veins, foolishly fills you with hope and longing. 

The truth is, you’d let Miguel O'Hara consume you in a heartbeat. He wouldn't even have to ask.

It makes something liquid and molten spool in your lower abdomen, and you clench involuntarily around him, your weakness for Miguel's attention making you mewl and quake in his hold.

You squeeze your eyes shut again, not wanting to see Miguel's expression shift back into controlled anger as it usually does after you interrupt the rare reverie of his attention. Instead of another frustrated growl, however, you feel his head bow into the space of your neck. There’s no contact, but his breath fans hot against your skin.

Your eyes open with careful slowness despite the speed at which your heart beats in your chest at the sight of Miguel's neck so close to your lips. The hair that falls over his ear tickles your left cheek.

His chest heaves under your clenched fists, and you could swear his heartbeat matches your own. You want to ask if he's okay, but you're afraid of shattering this moment with another word.  

It doesn't matter that your legs are starting to ache from being spread around his hips for so long. Doesn't matter that the feeling of his cock persists against your core. You want to savor this delicious torment of his hands at your hips and his fangs a breath away from your pulse for as long as you breathe.

Miguel is the one that breaks the silence, instead. Murmuring below your ear, “I don't like what you do to me.”

You’re not sure what he means, other than being well aware that you're a thorn in his side. You just hope that the comfort of your cunt is enough reason for him not to pluck you out.

Which is kind of embarrassing to admit. So you hum in agreement. “Same, here.”

He lifts his head, and you think you catch a glimpse of remorse in his crimson eyes before his features slip back into the more familiar grim stoicness. 

As he leans back, his hands travel lower, gliding over the curve of your ass until you can almost feel his fingers at the crease of your heat. The action lifts you, forces you to follow forward as he continues reclining back. It also makes his cock slide partially out of you. A quiet moan shudders out of you at the sensation of finally having some reprieve.

Miguel shifts slightly underneath you as he meets your half-lidded gaze. “Don’t forget the other rule.” You just stare back at him, frowning slightly. The ghost of a smirk accompanies his reminder. “Stay quiet.”

Before you get to fully process his words, his hips snap up and slam against your ass, plunging his cock fully back inside you. You cry out for only half a second before biting back your wail. 

He shushes you against your hairline - you didn’t even realize you dropped your head back down against his chest. Though with the way he’s dragging out of you again, terribly slow, you’re probably going to have to use his chest to muffle your cries. 

He thrusts up into you again, and again, and again. Despite the bruising grip on your hips, the pace he’s going at feels almost tender. The head of his cock pushes repeatedly against that sweet, swollen spot inside you, gradually undoing you. 

“Good girl?” Miguel growls low in your ear. “You’re the most aggravating part of my day.” He switches up, guides you to slam down on him while he remains firm on the seat of the chair. It punches the air from your lungs. “Everything you do pisses me off.”

His words drip like nectar down your spine. It's difficult to take offense to them when he lets you hook your arms over his shoulders and around his neck so that you can cling to him; it's the first time he's ever allowed your arms to wrap around him.

If he weren't fucking all matter of coherent thought out of your brains, you'd be able to marvel over the fact that he hasn't ripped away from you. The fact that he's in your arms gets lost in the smoldering heat trapped between you.

Miguel spreads your cheeks, and it does something you can’t describe to the sensation of having his cock fuck into you. It makes you babble nonsense into the damp space of his neck, taste his sweat on your tongue as you keen, “so deep so deep so good-”, a feeling sweet and sharp swelling in your belly until it spikes and bursts, and you gush around the relentless ramming of his cock, soaking the crotch of his pants.

You pant, falling slack against the solid wall of his torso. His hands finally relinquish their hold on your bottom, and you feel his arms encircle your waist, holding you still and close as he uses your spent pussy to chase his own release.

The bunched up fabric at the crotch of his pants, his open fly, keeps catching at your clit with each thrust. The sensation quickly and overwhelmingly begins to build into another orgasm.

His pace quickens. Something animalistic rumbles in his chest, the strength of his arms crushing you to him. Your vision blurs with unshed tears as each snap of his hips brings him closer to his release- a second one of your own about to rip right through you-

“Yo, Boss man!”

Lyla's disembodied voice pings from the watch on Miguel’s wrist. He stills, coming to a tense stop with a grunt. You would have jumped off his lap had he not kept the vice grip around your waist.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” she continues, and it’s hard to tell if the amusement in her voice is from knowing what she’s interrupted. “But I’ve detected another anomaly.”

Miguel unwinds his arms from around you. You take the opportunity to ease up and away from his chest, quietly unwrapping yourself from Miguel’s neck, suddenly worried that he’ll push you away.

As he sits up and lifts the watch to his face, he speaks into it in a strained and gruff voice, “Where?” 

You don't look at his face to see if he’s spared you a glance as he gets information from Lyla, very purposeful in avoiding eye contact and keeping quiet as you begin to slide off of him, afraid that you'll remind him of who and what you are and make him regret these last few moments of intimacy.

The absence of him from between your shaky legs aches almost as much as being too full with him does. You feel his fingers gently graze against the soft flesh at your hip as you turn away. The unexpectedness of it makes you waver for only a second, heart going into a flutter. 

You keep your back turned to Miguel, smiling softly, as you gather your discarded clothes, planning to hold onto this moment for as long as you exist.

[nitewrighter]

So, re-read your Cindy story (still amazing!) and ended up going down a research rabbit hole with different fairy tales and found out about Donkeyskin. (Wikipedia link: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donkeyskin)

And wow. I know fairy tales are dark but there is a very human kind of horror to me with this one. Read: the king’s incestuous desire for his daughter and the prince spying on her while she’s changing.

Obviously I know it’s a whole thing about oral traditions, there not really being one ‘true’ story but different tellings with different tweaks.

But my point is that if the fairy godmother in this story is anything like Cindy’s I’m getting pretty strong: “hey do you want me to kill this guy for you? Because it sounds like he sucks and I would totally kill this guy for you.” Vibes.

Oh yeah--Donkeyskin was also definitely a variant of Sapsorrow (the version used in Jim Henson's "The Storyteller"), which did also partially inspire my version! Though also the threat of incest to drive the princess to another kingdom in disguise I think is a mechanic that has found its way into multiple fairytales. On a much tamer note, in the Perrault Cinderella, the Dad was very much still alive, he was just a chickenshit who couldn't stand up for his own fucking daughter, so maybe it's cruel of me to heap all that grief on Cindy, but honestly the prospect of having someone who could stand up for her but doesn't got me too angry and I think that anger kind of distracted from the core of the narrative, which is that Cindy holds onto her own hope and kindness in spite of her cruel surroundings. I really didn't want to write a scene where Cindy goes, "Hey Dad, I know you watched me get abused and basically get enslaved by the woman you married and did absolutely fuck-all, but I forgive yoooooouuu." Like, nah, bruh, I could NOT write that. That's also kind of why I avoided writing any outright forgiveness on Cindy's end toward the stepfamily and went for more of a "The center cannot hold" sort of thing when she leaves and takes her labor with her. While Cindy does ultimately find a new family, I do consider labor itself to be a major component of the story. That's also why I do talk about Cindy still doing work as a Princess Consort and it still tires her out but... it's work she's proud of! It's work with people who share her values and who care about her wellbeing! Like, there's work you do because it gives you a sense of pride and purpose and you feel like you're actively making your environment better through it, and then there's work you're doing because you're being exploited--Cindy's happy ending is the former, and her time with the Stepfam is the latter.

Again, Fairy Godmother is partially inspired by east coast energy, and partially inspired by the sheer bloodlust I felt playing as Aqua in Kingdom Hearts: Birth By Sleep when you drop into Cinderella's world literally minutes after her stepsisters have torn her dress to shit.

[izunias-meme-hole]

Since I already posted my favorite Sailor Moon Villains but I didn't exactly rank them, so here we go.

My Top 10 Sailor Moon Villains (From Both The 90's Anime & The OG Manga/Crystal & Eternal)

Number 10. Wicked Lady - No, I will not be calling her "Black Lady," but aside from that, this is Chibi-Usa at her undeniable worst, no matter the version. Though execution-wise, the anime wins out purely because of her resolution, and the showcase of some level of good still being in her.

Number 10. Mistress 9 - Ah, pure evil done well. She didn't exactly have a lot of screentime in the 90's anime (and she was sadly kinda basic), but in the manga she's an entirely different story. Mistress 9 is the child and herald of Pharaoh 90, and is hellbent on eradicating all life on earth because she sees them as inferior lifeforms. Oh, and let's not even bring up her possession of Hotaru Tomoe, the fact that Chibi-Usa's pure heart was used to give her power, and overall she's just heinous as hell. In short, Mistress 9 was definitely something in both the 90's Anime and Manga/Crystal, though her appearance in the latter elevates her into the 10th spot on this list.

Number 8. The Shitennou - Ah yes, Beryl's servants. The loyal supervillain Jadeite, the passionate Nephrite, the ever so underhanded and insecure Zoisite, and last but not least the "cool" Kunzite. Surprisingly, Crystal botched these guys really bad, while the anime basically expanded upon the other 3 and gave Kunzite, the best one in the manga, the literal shit end of the stick after a good run. Still, all four of these guys are absolutely phenomenal minibosses.

Number 7. The Amazoness Quartet - God, they look absolutely ridiculous, but that doesn't stop them from being great minibosses like the Shittenou. Between their unique personalities, relations with Chibi-Usa, and overall just how solid they are as a group just sold me on them.

Number 6. Crimson Rubeus - Ah yes... the second most consistently heinous member of the Black Moon Clan. Rubeus is selfish, cowardly, sadistic, arrogant, manipulative, loyal to the literal worst people ever, and overall he's just a very hateable villain on so many angles. Though this hateability, his effectiveness as a villain, and just how much of a good addition he is to the Dark Moon Clan cements this guy's placement on here.

Number 5. Queen Nehelenia & Zirconia - Life is funny sometimes. In the manga/Eternal, Zirconia has nothing going for her aside from design and the fact that she's Queen Nehelenia's other self, while Nehelenia herself is almost like Snow White's Evil Queen mixed with Maleficent and its genuinely great to see. Yet in the 90's anime, Zirconia is expanded upon so much more to the point where she's legit entertaining, while Nehelenia gets expanded upon too before being brought back from the dead with a tarnished character. Still though, in both of the mediums where they're at their best, this evil queen and the personification of her inner ugliness are great.

Number 4. Prince Demande - What a delightfully twisted, vile, yet tragic villain. Granted the 90's anime take on him falls short because the guy had a half-assed "redemption," but it doesn't neuter all of his best qualities, nor does it ruin the OG Manga/Crystal's take on him, where he fully commits to that bit.

Number 3. Queen Beryl & Queen Metalia - Nothing wrong with a classic wicked witch. Especially if said wicked witch is an envious and hateful woman that's in service to pure unadulterated evil as a means to get what she wants most. Granted Beryl alone could've made the list, especially since Metalia doesn't have a lot going for herself, but the anime had the perfect resolution for these two by just fusing them together.

Number 2. Death Phantom/Wiseman - No matter the iteration, no matter the medium, Nazgul Charles Manson here is pure, unadulterated, unrestrained evil done right. Death Phantom is a manipulative monster who sees no value in life, who's made it his personal mission to become a dark god of death and nothingness. He's not a complex character, but he has substance, his evil deeds remain significant across the entirety of the Black Moon Clan's arc, and he leaves an impact as the most evil villain in the franchise and its best final boss. TL:DR: Death Phantom is objectively the best villain.

Number 1. Professor Souichi Tomoe - I shouldn't even need to explain this, but I will. Tomoe in the anime is hammy as hell, an amazing boss, shining with personality, nuanced as hell, carried the Infinity Arc on his back, and surprisingly enough gets a shot at redemption after his evil Daimon side, Germatoid, is split from him. Meanwhile, Tomoe in the manga/Crystal is initially shown as a somewhat shady figure who possibly cares about his daughter, before slowly being revealed as just a nicer looking Professor Hojo, complete with him making his own daughter the vessel for Mistress 9 all for the sake of becoming the god of an entirely new race of super-beings that will inherit the remains of the earth. It doesn't matter if this man is a corrupted magnificent bastard or a complete megalomaniac, this man is a stellar Mad Scientist who's undeniably human.

[diana-bluewolf]

Yay, I’ve finally finished it!

Some stills from the video.

Have you ever wished Sebastian's side quest line ended differently? Yes, me too. That's why I made this video (yet there's still its own crisis in it, sorry). The first part of it mostly retells the beginning of their story from the game, but the ending is different.

I really hope you enjoy it because I've been working on this for ages, trying to get the hang of mods and AI voices. I've written some clarification further, maybe you’ll find it helpful after watching the video (to avoid spoilers).

Sebastian’s impulsiveness reminded me of that moment from the original HP stories, where Harry uses Sectumsempra on Draco. You know, an absolutely unfamiliar spell “for enemies” with unknown consequences from a mysterious book. 

In a normal state of mind Sebastian would have never hurt Ominis or, after what happened with Anne, he would have never doomed anyone, never mind his best friend who he does care about, to such fate. But Anne was getting worse, the relic was his last hope, he was desperate, his mind was in a mess. He was mad at Solomon, who seemed to do his best to prevent Anne from healing. 

When Ominis tried to stop him and take the relic away, Sebastian said that he won’t step back from a fight. Ominis unintentionally responded with the same words that Solomon liked to say about Sebastian, a powerful trigger. “He doesn’t know when to stop.” Sebastian’s exhausted mind interpreted it as “to stop saving Anne”, Solomon and Ominis’s images mixed up in his mind, so he lost it. His anger wanted them to feel what Anne feels. He cursed Ominis with a powerful dark spell, which he had learnt from Slytherin's spellbook by the logic “the better prepared we’ll be”. Sebastian regretted it a moment later but it was too late. Ominis had survived only because Chris (MC) had managed to get him to healers fast, but he still remained seriously ill afterwards.  

Sebastian and Chris were trying to find a cure. Eventually Chris discovered that ancient magic could take away dark energy that was ruining cursed people's health. Just like Isadora did with mental pain but safer, because unlike the latter dark energy isn’t supposed to be a part of being a human. Although Chris had been avoiding Dark Magic before, he realised that now he needed to attune himself to it a little, so that he could recognise its energy in a patient (Ominis and then Anne) and extract it. And that is where Sebastian's knowledge of Dark Magic turned to be crucial, because he guided Chris. 

They had managed to make a special potion, which together with ancient magic not only cured Ominis of Sebastian's curse but also had a side effect - it returned his eyesight. Let's imagine that he wasn’t born blind after all but he lost his eyesight in infancy because one of his brothers loved to fiddle with dark magic and Ominis came in handy as a training dummy. And the Gaunts covered it with a made up story about congenital disability. So when Chris rid Ominis of all the dark magic impact, it affected the eyes as well.

So, the main idea is - there would be no happiness, but misfortune helped. Sebastian did curse Ominis, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise of some kind. Though the price for Ominis' eyesight was quite high -  trust in Sebastian. Hopefully, they can sort it out eventually.

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

Mods used:

“Male Face Replacer - Ominis Gaunt“ by JustAnOrdinaryGuy

“Unique Player Eye Shapes“ and “Brighter Eyes“

“Male Face Replacer - Sebastian Sallow“ by JustAnOrdinaryGuy

“UETools - Developer Console . FreeCamera . Debugging“ by Cranch

“Character Editor“ by nathdev

“Animations Mod Menu“ by YouYouTheBoxx

“Anne Sallow's Face“ by brucetesting123

“Party like it's 1890“ - Wizard edition by Aryksa

“Sebastian Sallow's Closet (Alternate Clothes)“ by leoisalion

“Ominis Gaunt's Closet (Alternate Clothes)“ by leoisalion

“Alohomora Mod” by Alfairy

“The Ultimate Wand Collection“ by Rosestorm

“Highlight Remover“ by HaywirePhoenix

“Emote with any npc” by nathdev

“AnyTimeCompanion” by Pez

[blackbirdsinatrenchcoat]

HI I SAW THE FANART OF YOUR OCS AND I LOVE IT, CAN YOU TELL ME ABOUT THEM???

aaaaaaa!!!!! absolutely!!!! thank you for asking!!!! ( in ref to this post ) okAY so they’re all embodiments/deifications of the seasons, Winter is top left, Summer is top right, Spring is bottom left, and you guessed it, Thaw is bottom right. (Autumn would be there but I don’t have its design yet sob.)

Winter: Gender? I Hardly Know Her! sapphic, they/he/she, doesn’t like you and isn’t afraid to say it, nice once you get to know them (you will never know them), definitely does weed, So Tall Literally What The Heck Man, genuinely terrifying, Doesn’t Know, hasn’t heard of a self esteem, survives off of instant ramen and tap water,

Spring: Just A Little Guy, biromantic gray-ace, he/him, nicest dude, all your pets and kids and siblings like him, has not had a full night of sleep since the dawn of time, flowery coffee mug full of hard liquor, places worth in his actions, would be an alcoholic but is too scared to accidentally get violent,

Summer: Prettiest Princess, pan, she/they, smiley, super friendly, pretends to like you but fantasizes about feeding your corpse to the vultures, in denial about everything, 5 3 but has 6ft aura, photographic memory, can bat her eyelashes and get away with murder

Autumn (not here :( ) :That Thing, demiromantic ace, he/it, no clue what is going on, accidentally funny, tries its best to make people like it, fails miserably, Wet Cat, does not believe in self care, incredible chef, like things with instructions cus they’d heard to mess up,

Thaw: Whatever You Want, Baby *wink*, bi demiromantic, xe/he/she, flirty as heck, infinite rizz, “your honor, nuh uh,” tbhkinda mean, passive aggressive about everything, knows exactly what to get people as gifts, really good at reading people,

im dumping the lore under the cut bc i saw the words “ocs” and “tell me” in the same sentence and got a bit too excited

The first three were created by Sun and Moon, but Thaw is an “artificial season”, made by Winter and Spring. They all have full power over their domain, and can create elements of their season. Winter is the patron of cloven animals, that which is already dead, guiding of souls to the afterlife, pottery, mourning, and they were the first season to exist, as they prepare the earth for life to Spring forth. get it. cause you know. Winter and then Spr ok i’m done. Spring is the patron of the beginning of life (as in babies and kids and stuff), guiding new souls into bodies, the waters, music, plant life, reptiles, and all aquatic animals. Summer is the patron of life(as in actual living), creatures of the air(besides bats) and insects, care if they physical body, fertility, and visual art, like paintings n drawings and things that go on a flat surface.

Autumn is a bit different. The 3 previous seasons were made by both Moon and Sun, the former having existing longer than the latter. The Primordials simply came into being, but Moon was first. Cus of a lot of creation myths and stories start with darkness, and then light. So Moon was there, and then Sun. They got bored of sitting and staring at an empty space rock. So they made the Seasons, and gifted them with creation.

It was just the first 3 for a while, but Sun got resentful. Moon was always the one who had the ideas, and executed them, and Sun hated that Moon was loved more by the Seasons, even though Sun was kinder. Sun decided to prove Sun was just as good at creating as Moon, so Sun made Autumn. Autumn was lacking morality, kindness, the ability to communicate, and was basically a shell of what it could have been.

The 3 eventually met Autumn, and since they were gifted with creation, they did their best to ‘fix’ Autumn. And they did, but not perfectly, since only a Primordial is the only being that can make fundamental changes like that. So Autumn is a little odd. It’s still learning how to be ‘human’ but it Knows and it Loves. And that’s all anyone can ask. Autumn is the patron of death(like the actual cease of life), removing of souls from bodies, harvest, all animals with paws, he art of writing in any form, and physical illness.

Thaw, on the other hand, was made by Winter and Spring pretty early on, a little bit before the 3 met Autumn. They got curious about the extent of their creation power, and created the first Lesser, Thaw. Inconveniently for them, Thaw was not created as an adult or even a teen, Thaw came to be as small child, about 4-5 in our years. So imagine two teens trying to raise a baby. Even though Spring is the patron of babies n kids n stuff, Winter stepped up, and tried to parent. Spring ended up taking Thaw at relative age 16, but until then, it was a weird coparenting thing.

Once Thaw was old enough to be independent, he held a lot of resentment for his “parents”, especially Winter. It took a while to reconcile, and his relationship with Winter is still strained, but everyone tries their best. Thaw is the patron of all hibernating animals, musical instruments, sleet and small streams, and all those with complicated families.

As society progresses, the rift between Sun and Moon deepens, and they start fighting, hence the end of the world. To the seasons, it’s like parents divorcing in the messiest way possible and also everyone and everything is dying. So they do their best to protect humanity (cus humans are a thing by then), and life as we know it. While also falling in love and stuff. Also they can’t die until the world is gone so.

And uhhh yeah :3 that’s all i can think of rn, but there’s definitely more except it’s 2am. this entire thing was heavily inspired by Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier, PORTALS by Melanie Martinez, and How to Build an Ocean: Instructions by Bears in Trees. Shoutout Fruit Gummy friend for maybe butterfly effect causing this by introducing me to Bears in Trees and shoutout to that other person who did the shit that causes the breakdown that caused me to put on Bears in Trees to calm down that caused me to have the first inspiration.

thank you for asking, Saturn, genuinely, and when are we scheduling the wedding?

[skydigiblogs]

honestly thought i would have a lot more to say about adventure 02 but like

i just finished episode 50 and the jist of my thoughts really are "yeah this is better than i remembered it being"

overall, an extremely ambitious follow up to digimon adventure, balancing a lot of plot points and an attempt at having a more cohesive storyline than "bad guy of the arc but suddenly it's apocalymon." in 02, most of the bad guys lead from one to another, in a way that seems much more intentionally thought-out than everything up until the dark master's arc in 01. even the one-off antagonists (dark ocean and demon's crew) played into the larger narrative, and weren't necessarily treated as one-offs so much as chances to expand the scope of the lore and use it to the narrative's benefit.

(although i do think it's a bit sad we never saw follow up on demon going "oh, you all are going to regret sending me to dagomon's ocean SOOOOO much")

also a lot of lore. so much lore. 01 introduced the fact that homeostasis has a bunch of agents that look like gennai, but a2 kept suggesting they're all copies (put a pin in that for my tri rewatch, much as i am loathe to rewatch that one). there wasn't any elaboration, but it is an interesting idea, and unfortunately i understand why it was kind of hastily noted and dismissed (the world tour arc had a lot to get to).

also the dimensional makeup of the digimon franchise got a lot more fascinating in 02. in 01 gennai mentioned that the gate could lead to all kinds of different places, but 02 actually takes that a step further in the lore, showing us the dark ocean and the dimension of dreams (even mentioning that the latter is pulled from by the digital world).

but it does maintain some of the problems i had with the original adventure in that i do wish more of the kids got to see their mega forms. :/

(i know tamers fixes that somewhat, then frontiers backpedals, but. you can't get me to rewatch frontiers lmao.)

furthermore, it does kind of suck that we're still left to wonder about ken's adventures in the digital world. we see ryo and millenniumon in his flashbacks to the adventures, but for audience members who missed out entirely on the wonderswan games, it makes it so we have to trust wormmon's word that ken was a kind person in the past. it's shown to an effective degree in the show, especially with his flashbacks to his childhood after the chimeramon arc.

it also makes narrative sense that they didn't feel the need to go over a story that's already happened, because that likely would have taken too long for 02, which already had so much going on. but maaaaaan. i do not want to play the wonderswan games, frfr (though i know there are fan translations out there for 'em).

i do love ken's arc though, as frustrating as him struggling with self-doubt is to watch. i'm glad the writers didn't make it seem too easy for him to forgive himself, because that's hard even if you weren't the vessel for like. All That Shit. i'm giving this boy a weighted blanket and hot tea.

tl;dr: compared to the oftentimes fever-dream like qualities of 01, 02 feels a lot more narratively focused in its story, and i think that really works to its favor. not a flawless season, but none of the digimon seasons are. a successful sequel to 01, much more so than i remembered from my last rewatch of the dub in 2020.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Prologue: Fortress of the Light

Well I took a much longer break than I expected and now winter's over (hopefully; I do live in Alaska) so it's time to get into the book with a longer break than expected between it and its prequel, but that gets going now that winter's over. Everything else is of course spoilers, and this post is going to have spoilers for the whole damn series so... don't keep reading if that's a problem.

Pedron Niall’s aged gaze wandered about his private audience chamber, but dark eyes hazed with thought saw nothing.

We start out this book with the Whitecloak icon because we're in Whitecloak town. And as is usual in Whitecloak town, every person in the place is looking around wildly and still completely blind to what's in front of them.

Still, he was suddenly aware of the tendon-ridged back of the hand holding the drawing, aware of the need for haste. Time was growing short. His time was growing short. It had to be enough. He had to make it enough.

We do see evidence here and there that despite being a Whitecloak, Niall isn't a completely contemptible person but... He is of course still completely wrong. He's not going to make it to the Last Battl and it won't be old age that takes him. He's in audience with a guy who could be warning him about the threat that will destroy his country but is focused on something else entirely.

It is a worse madness than any false Dragon I’ve ever heard of. Thousands have declared for him already. Tarabon and Arad Doman are in civil war, as well as at war with each other. There is fighting all across Almoth Plain and Toman Head, Taraboner against Domani against Darkfriends crying for the Dragon—or there was fighting until winter chilled most of it. I’ve never seen it spread so quickly, my Lord Captain Commander. Like throwing a lantern into a hay barn.

Considering how in-depth the series gets later on, it's a bit surprising we don't get much of a taste of this initial conflict. This all-consuming war, IIRC, continues to run on and off for pretty much the rest of the series, though the Seanchan do quiet it down and reframe it a great deal in the latter half.

“Lord Captain Bornhald said they called themselves Seanchan, my Lord Captain Commander,” Byar said stolidly. “He said they were Darkfriends. And his charge broke them, even if they killed him.”

Even when Byar touches on the Seanchan it's only in ways that actually misinform Niall. No wonder the LCC is so frustrated with this conversation.

“By this one Darkfriend you spoke of, Child Byar?” He could not keep an edge out of his own voice. A year’s planning lay in ruins amid the corpses of a thousand of the Children, and Byar wanted to talk only of this one man. “This young blacksmith you’ve only seen twice, this Perrin from the Two Rivers?”

Dude is so Perrin-obsessed that I feel that Perrin's ta'veren must be working against them both under these circumstances. Just like how Rand's causes both good and bad things to happen at random, so too does Perrin attract allies and enemies.

Perhaps these wars meant nothing in themselves—men fought wars—but they usually came one at a time. And aside from the false Dragon somewhere on Almoth Plain, another tore at Saldaea, and a third plagued Tear. Three at once.

Consider how different from Europe the setting of this story is, that wars come "one at a time". They don't have the population to sustain Renaissance war rates, even if they do still have the technology.

The Atha’an Miere, the Sea Folk, were said to be ignoring trade to seek signs and portents—of what, exactly, they did not say—sailing with ships half full or even empty.

I believe this is the first mention of them acting weird, so... that's an additional complication to look forward to.

But Tar Valon had apparently sent other Aes Sedai to support the other false Dragon at Falme. Nothing else fit the facts.

Props to Niall here for coming to a somewhat correct conclusion from a variety of incorrect data.

Carridin was tall, well into his middle years, with a touch of gray in his hair, yet fit and hard. His dark, deep-set eyes had a knowing look about them, as always. And he did not blink under the silent study of the Lord Captain Commander. Few men had consciences so clear or nerves so steady.

It's pretty easy to have a clear conscience when you don't have any conscience at all. Shame Niall's not a good enough judge of character to see that.

To serve the Light. Not to serve the Children of the Light. All the Children served the Light, but Pedron Niall often wondered if the Questioners really considered themselves part of the Children at all.

Maybe instead of setting up plans to conquer the continent you could have dealt with the Questioners, Niall? No? Just gonna let that shit heap fester in the sun? Great choice. Absolutely no knives in the back are coming your way... His eyes really aren't seeing anything in this chapter.

The Shadow’s plots are murky, and often seem mad to those who walk in the Light.

Sad thing is, Carridan is probably perfectly accurate in this particular sentence. The Dark spends a lot of its time acting in ways to maximize the paranoia of the common folk, to keep the Light too divided to properly purge it before the end of the Age.

Few ships have tried to cross the Aryth Ocean, and most never returned. Those that did, turned back before they ran out of food and water. Even the Sea Folk will not cross the Aryth, and they sail wherever there is trade, even to the lands beyond the Aiel Waste. My Lord Captain Commander, if there are any lands across the ocean, they are too far to reach, the ocean too wide. To carry an army across it would be as impossible as flying.

1. The Seanchan also do fly, naturally.

2. As Niall points out, this isn't a proof, it's only a (logical) guess.

3. The Sea Folk actually have made it across a few times, though they refer to the far end as the Isles of the Dead or something similar. Carridin probably isn't pointing this out either because he doesn't know or if he does because he doesn't want to make reaching the Seanchan continent seem plausible.

“Most people think Trollocs are only travelers’ tales and lies, and most of the rest think they were all killed in the Trolloc Wars. What other name would they put to a Trolloc but monster?”

This... also isn't proof. Shame the Whitecloaks don't like logic as much as the White Aes Sedai do.

“Even a false Dragon,” Niall said dryly, “is not enough to make them forget four hundred years of squabbling over possession of Almoth Plain. As if either of them ever had the strength to hold it.”

Even the real Dragon only manages to unite them through his second-order unification, as they lie across the Seanchan/West divide otherwise.

“At first they were only rumors, my Lord Captain Commander. Rumors so wild, no one could believe. By the time I learned the truth, Bornhald had joined battle. He was dead, and the Darkfriends scattered. Besides, my task was to bring the Light to Almoth Plain. I could not disobey my orders to chase after rumors.”

Bro doesn't even have a good excuse. If Niall wasn't busy scheming for his own agenda, he could have ended Carridan here and now and saved everyone a lot of trouble.

He would never put forward one of his own, but I doubt he’d quibble if I named you. A few days under the question, and you would confess to anything. Name yourself Darkfriend, even. You would go under the headsman’s axe inside a week.

Actually perhaps I'm overoptimistic here. Perhaps the High Inquisitor - or just the Darkfriends amid the Whitecloaks - would ferry Carridin away or arrange for an early demise before he could give away any information at all. Replace him with the next dude, same as the first.

Loose a lion—a rabid lion—in the streets. And when panic grips the people, once it has turned their bowels to water, calmly tell them you will deal with it. Then you kill it, and order them to hang the carcass up where everyone can see. Before they have time to think, you give another order, and it will be obeyed. And if you continue to give orders, they will continue to obey, for you will be the one who saved them, and who better to lead?

Niall of course foreshadows Perrin's rise to power, though the boy does it kicking and screaming.

Niall rubbed his hands together. He felt cold. The dice were spinning, with no way of telling what pips would show when they stopped.

In a way, Niall inadvertently views himself as a dark mirror to all three ta'veren. Perrin, by means of creating an enemy to unite people; Mat, as a Great General with a focus on gambling, and Rand...

But he, Pedron Niall, would unite humankind behind the banners of the Children of the Light. There would be new legends, to tell how Pedron Niall had fought Tarmon Gai’don, and won.

Rand like this.

A month before, in the dead of winter, the gangly little man had arrived in Amadicia, ragged and half-frozen, and somehow managed to talk his way through all the layers of guards to Pedron Niall himself. He seemed to know things about events on Toman Head that were not in Carridin’s voluminous if obscure reports, or in Byar’s tale, or in any other report or rumor that had come to Niall. His name was a lie, of course. In the Old Tongue, Ordeith meant “wormwood.”

"Wormwood" is a Book of Revelation reference: "The third angel blew his trumpet, and a great star fell from heaven, blazing like a torch, and it fell on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water. The name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters became wormwood, and many died from the water, because it was made bitter."

But also, poor, poor Niall. He sees himself as a man of cold logic (steel, cuendillar, etc.) but with Ordeith around whatever virtues he had are assuredly doomed.

The Two Rivers,” Niall mused. “Someone else mentioned another Darkfriend from there, another youth. Strange to think of Darkfriends coming from a place like that. But truly they are everywhere.”

Niall is almost, ALMOST clever enough to realize how stupid this claim is... But Ordeith's a fast talker.

Much of the drawing was only a smudge, and a rip ran across the young man’s breast, but miraculously the face was untouched.

Fain can tear Rand up physically, as can most of the Shadow, but despite everything, the boy remains.

“Perhaps I must make plans for the Two Rivers. When the snows clear. Perhaps.” “As the Great Lord wishes,” Ordeith said blandly.

And so we set up... next book's plot. Seems a little premature for this book's prologue but sure! Also note that Ordeith calls Niall the same thing all the Darkfriends call the Dark One. You'd think a real servant of the light would notice and object...

It was a man in form, no larger than most, but there the resemblance ended. Dead black clothes and cloak, hardly seeming to stir as it moved, made its maggot-white skin appear ever paler. And it had no eyes. That eyeless gaze filled Carridin with fear, as it had filled thousands before.

Oddly, the wiki says that this is the first appearance of Shaidar Haran and that it was only described as a "very tall Myrddraal" at this stage but as you can see, this Myrddraal is actually... a little short for a storm trooper. I'm going to make the executive decision that no, this Fade is not even an early SH variant and that if Jordan wanted me to think so he should have put it in the text where it belonged instead of interviews after the fact.

The Halfman’s bloodless lips quirked in a smile. “Where there is shadow, there may I go.”

There really must be some other limit to the Myrddraal's shadow-stepping technique because otherwise one of them should have just stepped in Rand's shadow and killed him if they wanted him dead so bad.

The Myrddraal grated, “Your Lord Captain Commander’s words are dung! You were commanded to find the human called Rand al’Thor and kill him. That before all else. Above all else! Why are you not obeying?”

And so we see the trap that Carridin is in, an interesting trap indeed considering that in later books Rand will be off the kill list. It's a good thing Ba'alsy is mad enough for the inconsistency to just seem to be his illness and nothing more. Though perhaps this Fade works for one of the other Forsaken (Sammael? Rahvin?) It certainly isn't the DO deciding this (another thing that makes it hard to believe it's SH), because his orders are even clearer: let the Lord of Chaos rule.

“Hear me, human. You will find this youth and kill him as quickly as possible. Do not think you can dissemble. There are others of your children who will tell me if you turn aside in your purpose. But I will give you this to encourage you. If this Rand al’Thor is not dead in a month, I will take one of your blood. A son, a daughter, a sister, an uncle. You will not know who until the chosen has died screaming. If he lives another month, I will take another. And then another, and another. And when there is no one of your blood living except yourself, if he still lives, I will take you to Shayol Ghul itself.”

Frankly Mr. not-Haran, I don't think that's a great threat for Carridin until you invoked his suffering. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who cares about his family at all...

With his good hand Carridin struck the basket from Sharbon’s hands, sending withered winter apples rolling across the carpets, and backhanded the man across the face.

The hierarchy of evil is so pathetic, isn't it? Ah well.

So ends the third book's prologue. The first book's prologue was an Age before the main story and sets up the conflict of the book and the series clearly. The second book's prologue was at least a little before the chapters of the second book and set up the conflict of the book and the series clearly. This prologue doesn't bother with that and instead sets the tone for the vast majority of the prologues to come: checking in on the plot threads that aren't doing anything this book. Probably one of my least favorite structural choices in these books, but it's a minor quibble.

Next time: Rampant abuse of innocent corvids.

[boxkeith]

Video Games I Played in October 2024

October was a rather hellish month, but I didn’t pull the trigger on playing any idle games so I’m not completely a lost cause. It doesn’t help that my game consumption this month was mostly putting 20+ hours into five different games (finishing up Wukong and Zelda, and three I started this month). A smidge more variety might be in order, which for me usually means snagging a random shitty metroidvania and doing that for 8-15 hours. So it goes. This review also puts me over 110k words in my game diary for the year, which is daunting.

Kryptic – I do not know how I feel about puzzle games. Sometimes I want deeply invested puzzles that require a pen and paper, genuine cleverness and creativity, and iterative problem solving to unwrap a larger riddle. Sometimes I come to a new screen and realize my only reward for puzzles will be more puzzles and then desperately need to do literally anything else with my life. Kryptic was the former until it was the latter, not helped by the puzzles varying WILDLY in quality and complexity in ways that made overthinking a near-certainty. Shoutouts to including all the cyphers natively at least.

Dome Keeper – One could be forgiven for confusing this with Wall World, though Motherload has been out for a hot minute and it’s not like we’ve gone exceptionally far since Dig Dug. It has the classic roguelike issue of a slow start that’s boring to repeat alongside an overly quick endgame where either your upgrades trivialize everything you encounter or you die before getting a chance to play with your fun toys. For a second it makes me wish for a game like this that had more permanent progression, but I have played Steamworld Dig 2 and good lord that game has problems. I dunno. Maybe I just don’t yearn for the mines.

Throne and Liberty – The CIA is continuing its MK ULTRA research, and in this instantiation they are attempting to see if I can quite literally be paid to care about an MMO. Turns out the answer is no. I got a solid 45 minutes into the tutorial before I realized I’d played the tutorial previously as part of a beta test, and if that doesn’t say something about generic action RPG starts and how there’s only so many ways to render a realistic wooden barrel in a cave, I don’t know what does.

Super Fancy Pants Adventure – Unlike most people my age I don’t have an overabundance of nostalgia for flash games. I think I transitioned to PC gaming just a hair too late to really get in on that zeitgeist, though I did certainly play more than my share of popcap games and random shit on newgrounds. Coming at this having barely played the originals, I respect it but also don’t have the patience, reaction time, or dearth of other pursuits required to play this style of platformer. It’s not so much fiddly as it is exacting and particular, but I don’t want to spend ten minutes trying to figure out exactly the pattern of keystrokes that’ll make a little guy do an overly precise jump. I don’t have math homework to procrastinate on anymore.

Atlas Fallen: Reign of Sand – I fucking love terrible video games. Can’t get enough of them. The Surge 2 is better than Dark Souls, and so when I learned those lads were making a game that was 100% fucking about I was completely on board. Not on board enough to pay for the game rather than waiting for it on gamepass (which is also how I played The Surge 2, to be fair), and also not on board enough to fail to confuse it with Immortals of Aevuem when asked for what game I wanted from a list that may or may not have had both of them on it, but nevertheless completely on board. It feels fucking good to punch things in this game and they have the whipfist from Prototype, but instead of hijacking helicopters you’re tethering onto monster hunter knockoffs trying to wallop them. The partbreaking system is pretty inconsistent and the lock-on is still just as dogshit as The Surge 2, but overall the game feels smooth and graphically it has a love for sand on par with Mirror’s Edge’s obsession with concrete. I especially like the momentum system’s attempted risk/reward of combos increasing the damage you deal and the damage you take, and the added wrinkle that your passive and active abilities are socketed in along the momentum bar so you have to weigh getting access to attacks early with slotting in abilities that help you build momentum. The story and lore are whatever, the game is like five hours too long, and they make the baffling choice of having a solid 80% of the setting revolve around a slave underclass that are Unnamed but at no point do the rebels just… start giving them names. You’re just “Gauntlet Bearer” i.e. one of the good ones. That being said Asterigos did an even worse job of having any of its characters object to chattel slavery and in that game they were being ground into food so … I dunno. The bar’s low I guess.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess – As someone who has been an ardent Zelda fan for about as long as I can remember playing video games, Twilight Princess is a fascinating entry in the series. Its aesthetics and tone aren’t really approached in any other Zelda game. Structurally it takes a huge amount from Ocarina of Time, but it goes out of its way to flesh out a large number of NPCs and tries to have an actual story and setting that doesn’t revolve around Link. Zelda barely has a role even as a mcguffin, and in many ways Midna is the main character. It’s deliberately quite linear, with the tears of light sections serving to drag you through each area top to bottom before letting you explore it properly once you’re oriented. As an actual game I’d say it’s… functional? At worst it has some pacing issues and there was clearly cut content in the lategame, but it’s hard to point to any one facet and say “this could be better” because there’s such a robustly holistic vision of the type of game it was trying to be. It’s hard to step back from my childhood fondness for the game and the love grown over 5+ complete playthroughs, but I’m also not trying to step back from that. If anything I’ll probably reread the manga once I’m done with the game.

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice – Sekiro had been pitched to me in a variety of ways over the years; ‘the most unique/difficult/interesting Fromsoft game’, ‘the best parrying has felt in a video game’, ‘the only good media named after its main character other than Columbo’. None of these spoke to me, and I had not so much avoided the game as been disinterested. Even after playing Nine Sols and gaining a grimaced tolerance of parrying, I wasn’t convinced. Steam Family Sharing dropped a copy in my lap though, and I needed to hit buttons in something after Atlas Fallen. The game’s fine. It’s merely fine. Bloodborne had interesting things to say about the Dark Souls formula and said them through its mechanics and its level design in ways that enhanced its own identity and actively punished playing as though it was Dark Souls. Sekiro isn’t as transformative, because the emphasis on parrying means that positioning isn’t rewarded – you NEED to get attacked and react appropriately in order to be proactive. Nine Sols had this same stilted cadence, but in 2D your relative position with an enemy is much clearer and the game not only had a variety of defensive options but also rewarded you with resources for parrying that could then be spent proactively. In Sekiro your reward for parrying is gradually staggering the enemy, and although chip damage accrues and slows the rate of stagger degradation it’s still a much different cadence. I do not hate the game. I do not even dislike the game. I expect to finish the game, or at the very least get to what I feel is a reasonable stopping point and deliberately cease playing rather than merely falling away. But I do not see myself loving the game. When I first started playing, I told a friend in jest “Everything I wanted from Sekiro I got from Ghost of Tsushima”. I don’t think that’s true, and I didn’t think so at the time. I just also don’t know what it is I actually want from Sekiro.

[thefirstknife]

I think the issue with people complaining about a cliffhanger is that there's different ways to tell a story, and they aren't expecting how D2 does it. For some series, they have an overarching plot but by and large you can pick up entries in just about any order, or even omit some, and get a good experience. Other stories you really have to go through them in order without skipping or you'll be confused. The problem with Destiny is that the cliffhangers try to treat it like the latter, but the simple fact that a bunch of relevant story and lore content is only accessible via write-ups and YouTube videos (so not actually accessible at all to some people) rather than in the game means it's forced, in many regards, to be treated like the former type. Which doesn't work great. It's trying to run something on framework designed for the opposite. So when people hear that story elements get removed yearly (seasons) and entire expansions are gone (vaulting) the reasonable assumption is "every story expansion is pretty much entirely self-contained" except then it turns out not all of them are, and LF ended up having a lot more plot hooks for TFS. Which makes the annoyance very understandable when they looked at the game's model and reasonably expected a different storytelling format. (It still doesn't excuse the vile behavior many people have displayed, but it makes more sense the more i step back from the game and see that it seems like they've evolved themselves into a messy corner with their choices for how they run and unfold things.)

Oh, that's definitely a problem Destiny has always had. Even before vaulting, though obviously vaulting made things worse. Like, Destiny 2 was advertised as a game anyone can pick up when it came to the PC for the first time, without the need to play the first one. This was not the case at all. When I jumped into D2 at launch, there was not a single tutorial or explanation for anything that was happening and I was definitely not gonna watch 50 hours of footage of lore on youtube or playthroughs or buy a console I don't have just to understand a video game.

But the game was playable. Obviously I didn't understand anything, but the game was perfectly playable and is still playable now. Basically, the only people bothered by this weird lore stuff are people who get immediately invested into the lore itself and let me tell you. That is by far not anywhere near any significant level of people. It may seem like something normal to go into the lore section and read the lore, but the overwhelming majority of people never do that.

This is obviously a bigger issue for players that do care but skipped parts or don't want to spend hours and hours of their free time backreading everything. However even with that, I don't think that the cliffhanger stuff could really be handled any differently by itself (vaulting notwithstanding, since that's a whole different problem that isn't tied to Lightfall itself as an expansion). By the virtue of it being a cliffhanger at the tail end of the saga, it's by default not going to be exactly friendly to new players (story-wise). Actually, in some way, by introducing something brand new that even veterans had to learn from scratch (Neomuna, Veil, Cloud Striders, new discoveries of Light and Darkness...), we were all pretty much on the same playing field, veterans and new players alike. But basically, Lightfall had to be a cliffhanger, given its position in the overall story.

I don't think Destiny was ever newcomer friendly, not in at the time I started, not later either (despite having free campaigns in Shadowkeep, every new player I got into the game struggled immensely to understand what's going on). The story of Destiny definitely suffers in a lot of ways due to D1 being locked to console, vaulting and various other issues with lore delivery, though a lot of it has gotten better over time. I still wouldn't expect Lightfall to really be drastically different no matter what, except maybe if the whole structure of expansions and time between them was changed.

These issues certainly didn't help Lightfall (and many other expansions), but I wouldn't say that Lightfall was particularly affected by continuity. In part specifically because it introduced so many new things. Nobody had any reference point for Neomuna or Cloud Striders. We all learned it at the same time. And from a vast majority of people online, I've seen that they didn't even bother trying to learn (I've also seen people being personally offended that they're not getting the veteran's treatment and that they weren't able to immediately understand everything through their vast knowledge of Destiny lore). There are fantastic lore books and quests that follow the campaign that expand on Neomuna expontentially and people have simply not played them. I genuinely believe that a lot of people went into Lightfall thinking it's going to be the big showdown with the Witness and that there's a bigger badder evil behind the Witness. When that didn't happen, people declared Lightfall "worst expansion ever" that "Bungie lied about." It's a very strange situation to me. I won't say that the story was the best ever, as I generally think Destiny campaigns tend to be fairly basic, short and more cinematic. But the response is so overwhelmingly negative in a way that reveals, to me, complete misunderstanding of storytelling.

I obviously can't get into the shoes of someone whose first interaction with Destiny was Lightfall and I've seen people who were put off as well as people who got immediately hooked. I can only say from my experience with vanilla that I spent a year with zero information and references and the only way i could've gotten them was to go watch youtube and it didn't really bother me all that much, since I didn't care a lot about the story in the first place. The game worked fine gameplay wise without understanding the story. And when I did get interested, I still had to go watch youtube to understand it. There's no summary in the game and never was. Lore books are exactly informative of the basics or the timeline or things that happened in the past. My ordeal of learning about Destiny lore is actually largely what made me make the blog so I can help others.

But yeah, no matter what Bungie advertises, Destiny has never really been friendly to new players story-wise. It's actually one of my biggest pet peeves because it would be super easy to create some kind of in-game encyclopedia with detailed summaries of everything that unlock as you play the game. You know, kill your first dreg in Trostland, unlock "Eliksni" entry in the encyclopedia. I hope that whatever is coming after TFS the first thing they're working on is the ability to NOT vault anything. Like, that's first priority to me. When this saga concludes, whatever is coming after, it has to be set up from the start in a way that we don't have to ever lose any story content or render it unplayable. On my knees begging.

I'm not sure if this would've helped Lightfall as I don't think there would be any new player or returning player going through 20 seasons worth of content and 5 expansions just to hop into Lightfall. I think that no matter what, there's always going to be people disappointed in the story as it nears the end. I just wish people gave it a reasonable chance and if they were able to accept that maybe they got it wrong and that their first impression is not entirely grounded in reality (mostly because I'm 100% sure people missed stuff on their first playthrough. As an example, people were mad about "how does Osiris see what's happening to our Ghost at the end! It makes no sense!" meanwhile as you get into the facility, Ghost has a line saying he'll be directing "visual feed" to Osiris to help them navigate. There are a lot of details like this that people repeat over and over as "proof" that Lightfall's story made no sense. It relies on no previous knowledge. To be clear, I missed things too). As usual I'll say that my critique is that a few things could've been structured better and a few more details added to make things tighter for understanding what's going on.

This is definitely a conversation worth having more than any other mindless critique online that's borderline Cinemasins level of engagement. I'd actually be interested to know what's the split on how veterans and new players perceived Lightfall and what were the specifics that confused them or that they disliked, and especially with a combination of how much they were into lore before and after Lightfall.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

“The Honorable Ones” vs. “The Outpost”

I know this type of post has been done already but I just think that it’s so interesting and cool that these episodes parallel each other. Honestly, I like to think that Jen Corbett and Brad Rau were inspired by “The Honorable Ones” when creating “The Outpost.” Their similarities are uncanny tbh. Both are phenomenal episodes that take an imperial through an icy but life-changing journey. 

Like Kallus, Crosshair believes he has a place in the Empire. Chip or not, he thinks that the Empire is only doing its duty regardless of who has to be sacrificed. However, all that changes with on an ice moon. I’ve listed some similarities below:

Imperial vs. Rebel- Mayday and Zeb serve as foils to Crosshair and Kallus as both are people that the other resent. Zeb is a Lasat, the species that Kallus helped (almost) completely wipe out. Both hold animosity towards each other because of this personal vendetta. That, and Kallus holds contempt towards Lasats since he was almost killed by one. Zeb nonetheless helped the injured Kallus.

Likewise, Mayday is a “reg.” Out of all the Batch, Crosshair voiced his opinions towards regs the strongest. He viewed himself as superior because of his enhancements. While Mayday holds no ill-will towards Crosshair, he still is someone that Cross wouldn’t view as equal under normal circumstances. Mayday continually shows Cross kindness even though the latter acts rather coldly in the beginning, especially with the “I don’t carry deadweight” line.

Taking off the blindfold- Both episodes serve as a way to help the antagonist see things in a new light. As Kallus relies on Zeb to get out of the cave, he is encouraged to start asking questions. Zeb pushes Kallus to reassess his beliefs about the Empire. Ultimately, Kallus does take Zeb’s words to heart and becomes the next Fulcrum and future rebel. 

While I think Cody was the initial drive in Crosshair’s view on the Empire, Mayday was the final straw. Crosshair is lonely; he is struggling without his brothers. The Empire continues to dehumanize and isolate him. And then comes along Mayday, who shows him nothing but kindness. Mayday’s companionship reaches through Crosshair’s darkness and opens his eyes. Finally, Crosshair realizes that the Empire doesn’t care about him. 

Vulnerability- both episodes gives us a chance to see our antagonists from a different perspective. Kallus opens up to Zeb as the pair try and figure out how to survive. He tells Zeb about the Lasat mercenary, revealing where his contempt stemmed from. We see Kallus with softer expressions for the first time; we see him look sad and alone. Before this, he’s been either angry/annoyed or cruel/determined. Finally, we see a new side to Kallus and get to understand him better.

Crosshair, who has been dominated by “severe and unyielding” expressions, becomes so much more emotional. He’s usually cold and closed off, or angry with a sharp tongue. Here, however, we see him truly afraid, heartbroken, and desperate. The latter half of the episodes shows us the pain that Crosshair is suffering and it is gut-wrenching. 

Persevering- Kallus and Zeb must rely on each other to survive. Unknown creatures threaten to eat them and the cold is nigh unbearable. On top of that, Kallus can’t walk because of a broken leg and the pair are trapped in a cave. Despite the odds, Kallus and Zeb work together to escape and get to safety. This leads to them forming a bond that’ll change their lives for the better.

Then there’s Crosshair and Mayday. Between landmines, raiders, an avalanche, and the extreme cold, this pair of clones persist. Mayday’s kindness touched a part of Crosshair that was suffering. In turn, Crosshair refused to give up on Mayday. Even when the latter was severely injured, Cross carried him back to the base. The odds were stacked against them, yet Crosshair and Mayday kept going. 

No rest for the wicked- Unfortunately, there is no happy ending just yet for our fave antagonists. Kallus watches, alone, as Zeb happily reunites with the Ghost crew. They came for Zeb, even though Kallus kept denying that they would. Meanwhile, Kallus returns to a cold, dark environment. No one greets him or bothers to help him with his injury. The only familiar face, Admiral Konstantine, is the coldest; he doesn’t even bother looking up from his datapad, addressing Kallus briefly before continuing on his way. I bet Konstantine had no idea that Kallus was even missing. As the episode closes out, Kallus sits alone in his room, contemplating on everything that happened. For the first time in this show, he feels alone and vulnerable. 

Mayday doesn’t make it, but Crosshair does. Crosshair begs for help but is denied by Lt. Nolan. Like Konstantine, Nolan didn’t care about what just happened. Cross is truly broken in this moment. He glances up one last time at the ice vulture and makes his choice; he stands up and defiantly shoots Nolan, finally turning against the Empire. But unlike Mayday, Cross can’t join him in the afterlife. Instead, he awakens, captured, on Mt. Tantiss with an unknown future. After all he’d suffered in getting Mayday back to base, Crosshair is forced to endure more pain, emotionally and physically. Hopefully, like Kallus, he will have a happy ending eventually.

If y’all made it this far congrats! I just thought the parallels were interesting and most likely intentional. 

[extra-v1rgin]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Cw • Brief mention of violence, but not towards either of the main characters

Wonder what Rengoku looks like? Check out this post

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

An innocent video crops up on the internet. It gets a good amount of views, not truly viral, but not completely lost within the waves of video content. It shows a creature leaping into the air. Water splashes around its form as the thing leaps from the ocean. Most admire the shadowed creature but pass it off as something fake.

Mermaids are real. Not in the way that shows The Little Mermaid depicts them, human and kind. They’re covered in scales and dark as night. Real videos of them are few and far between, filmed thousands of feet below the ocean. They’re blurry and poor quality. Mostly they just capture the creatures swimming past. The strange, vaguely humanoid, creatures do not go anywhere near the surface. They certainly do not leap above the sea.

The Japanese government does not think the video is fake somehow. Though it resembles thousands of videos faked with costumes or CGI, there is something different about it. It was filmed by some millionaire passing an uninhabited island on his yacht. It’s not from a person who’s desperate for internet fame. He claims the video is real, even when cornered by agents in black suits and sunglasses.

A small group of researchers is sent to the island, thousands of miles away from the mainland. They confirm these surface-dwelling creatures are real.

They aren’t like the deep sea creatures that are associated with blurry photos. These mermaids still aren’t human. Their skin is not pitch black, but most do have darker tones. Even the palest are still tan. Built with broad shoulders and strong backs it’s clear they’re made to swim. That says nothing of their long brilliant tales. The only thing common among them is the fact that they are anything but plain.

It’s theorized that there was either a mutation that separated this colony from their more alien-like cousins, or that somehow human DNA made its way into their own. The only evidence for the latter is remnants of wood and torn fabric that could’ve once belonged to an outcast.

Tomioka was lucky enough to be located at the one marine life research center that is chosen to visit the island where these creatures are dwelling. The news of the creature's existence is kept quiet. This small facility off the coast of Kuji is the only group made aware of these beasts besides the government.

But Giyuu is unlucky enough to not go himself. Though he had to sign all the same NDAs and is charged with receiving all the information logged, it’s not the same as seeing the mermaids in reality. As the lowest in terms of seniority, he drew the short straw.

There were still some perks. Pictures came in, vibrant and clear. All the mermaids were colorful, no two looking exactly the same. One was a gradient of pink and green. A few were completely white, almost silvery. Even the most boring— with simple black hair and fewer fins and frills —still had beautiful tails that shone under the sun. He had given them all names too, replacing the string of letters and numbers they were classified under. Looking at the long string of identifiers for too long gave Giyuu a headache anyways.

Giyuu’s favorite by far was a man with fiery accents. Rengoku. Purgatory. Looking at him from afar reminded Tomioka of fire, warm and dangerous at the same time.

His torso was the most human thing about him, tan skin that lead up to broad and freckled shoulders. White patches of skin covered his chest, leaping up to the chin. Bringing Giyuu’s gaze to the creature’s face, he tried to find the differences from a human’s. It had all the aspects of a human face, flat nose and bushy eyebrows, and thick lips. Rengoku’s eyes were an off-putting shade of red, but it was easy to look past if you squinted. There wasn’t anything that should have looked wrong, but the feeling of something off couldn’t be pushed down. Tomioka spent plenty of his time at the facility analyzing the features to figure out exactly what it was. The eyes were slightly larger, pupils too small. His nose was a little small. It wasn’t built for breathing air.

That leads to the truly inhuman aspects of the beast. Frills surrounded his face, large gills carved into his neck. It looked like a lion’s mane, resembling curls though it didn’t quite look like true hair.

Down further, though not quite yet focusing on Rengoku’s long tail, hands melted into claws. The fingers ended in red spikes, curled like sharp nails. There was only one video of the mermaids eating, but watching them shred the pieces of fish easily justified the existence of such deadly appendages.

Finally, moving down to the base of his hips a tail started to form. The scales bloomed from his skin naturally, leading to the golden length. It resembled a snake almost, the way the scales interlocked. The bottom burst into a wide fan of fins that were a translucent red color. It was the most beautiful part of the creature, nearly 6 feet long without even counting the fans along the bottom.

Looking at Rengoku completely was hard to do. Tomioka’s eyes couldn’t help but dart around to focus on specific details and aspects of the species. Some of the frills that erupted from his body seemed purely aesthetic. It was hard not to be drawn in by their golden shine.

Going off the other pictures provided, or scribbled notes from his luckier coworkers, the man put together the aspects of their culture too. Most of the creatures were nude, at least by human standards. Very few covered their chests and most did not add to their appearance at all. Those that did used surprisingly natural accessories. Sashes made from seaweed or cut-up fishnets adorned their waists. Something similar to earrings were crafted from coral, which would also make appearances in their hair.

The fact that he had to learn these facts from photos and videos rather than seeing the creatures, in reality, made his heart ache. It only got worse as the research team got closer with the mermaids. A video is sent of them leaping toward fish the researchers throw. As they move they make odd little trilling noises. It’s a bit similar to a dolphin’s voice, though more smooth and less shrill.

They sing too, beautiful and clear noises that would send a sailor to his death. When introduced to human instruments, pan pipes, and flutes, and clarinets, they adapt to these easily. It might not be wise to interact with the colony on such a personal level, but even through photos, it’s clear how enticing they are. Maybe a human really did fuck one a few centuries ago.

But it becomes clear as to why humans and mermaids are separate. The creatures are ridiculously strong. Their active lifestyle leaves them muscled, but even the weakest are ten times stronger than an average human. Teeth rip through flesh and bone, claws tear open lobsters and clams. There is no doubt that these are hardened predators. Even without meaning to they could shred through a human.

That’s exactly what happens. One of his luckier (though maybe not in light of recent events) coworkers, who had been living on the island for a few weeks, strayed too close to the edge of the docks. A hand shot out to wrap around the frail ankle. Before anyone can even blink he’s dragged below the depths.

He lived but came out with a bad case of decompression illness. Fractures and bruises weave their way throughout most of the man’s body. There wasn’t even any ill intent behind the ‘attack.’ It was like watching a group of children play with a baby bird. By their standards, humans were unbelievably frail. Without really meaning to the offender had nearly crushed him.

So the man is sent home. It should be a tragedy, but they still need 12 research members. Which means they need someone new to come in.

Which means they need Giyuu.

And he should be scared too. Tomioka isn’t strong. Not compared to nine-foot-tall mermaids with layers of muscles and deadly claws. Maybe he’s a masochist. All he can focus on is iridescent scales and coral hair and fire swimming underwater.

—-

The waiting is painful. Packing and getting everything in order and riding the helicopter itself drags on. Giyuu feels dizzy and distracted right up until a hand is pulling him out of the helicopter and onto the sand of the beach.

Kagaya looks the happiest Tomioka can remember. Usually, the senior researcher is stone-faced or looking on with serious eyes. The soft smile gracing his face is surprising. It makes him look like a completely different person.

“I’m glad you could join us, though I wish it was under happier circumstances.” As they stroll towards the impromptu camp set up Kagaya continues to explain. Behind them, attendants rush to put Giyuu’s luggage away.

“The dock is off limits now, for obvious reasons. We’ve also tried to limit how close others get to the sunning rocks on the East side of the island.” The older man conducts himself like a man leading a college tour. His arms stretch out to gesture vaguely toward the mentioned areas. “And though the island itself is quite small we ask that if you chose to explore at all you find someone to buddy up with.”

Giyuu can’t imagine wanting to look at anything other than mermaids, but he nods in dumb agreement.

“Lunch is being served soon. You’re welcome to rest after your long flight, or you can join us afterward on the beach.”

All the tiredness leaves his body at the suggestion of doing actual research.

—-

The mermaids are beautiful. Tomioka couldn’t imagine lying around in his room when he could be staring at the magical creatures sitting around the beach. The real-life version is better than anything seen in photos. Everything looks ten times as vibrant.

It’s a shame that there’s now a firm line of caution tape keeping the research team back. Giyuu is about 10 feet away from the shore. Though a few mermaids will crop up onto the sand, most stay away from the shallower waters. The main source of information comes from cameras hidden below the water. A group of scientists sit gathered around the displays cooing whenever anything swims past.

It’s slightly more boring than imagined. Tomioka is grateful to be there still. He just imagined touching and meeting the creatures instead of watching them from behind the screen. In a way, it’s not too different than seeing them in photographs.

But on occasion, a group will flock towards the rocky shores to laze about. Their tails look like diamonds under the sun. It’s a wild array of colors from pinks to yellows to deep blues. More often than not their hair accents their tails in some way. Giyuu wishes he could feel the scales that cover their lower halves.

It’s strange to be around others too. In a way, his admiration of the creatures feels weaker because of the months spent studying alone. His coworkers have already been isolated together for quite some time. Tomioka was an outsider before as a fresh college graduate who fumbled with most of the orders given. It’s a weird feeling to have hoped for something for so long and the weird reality of the situation.

For the most part, Tomioka takes notes and observes behaviors on his own. It’s not as if no one else talks to him. Murata approaches him with a weird kind of nervousness and Tamayo is kind to everyone. He watches others analyze hair strands or lost scales from a quiet background. But Giyuu takes lunch alone and doesn’t do much in his free time. He ventures onto the lonelier stretches of the island instead of crowding around the main shore. Tomioka doesn’t go far enough to justify bringing a companion, just a ways away from the murmured chatter of acquaintances.

Somehow he finds things more interesting on his own. It feels less like work and more like adventure. Tomioka pseudo-explores until dusk when he returns to the cramped tent that’s become his home. The constant buzz of excitement— even if reality is a bit different from his fanciful expectations —often keeps him up.

So it’s no surprise that Giyuu cannot sleep. He unplugged his clock hours ago, hoping to escape its taunting as the time grows later and later. Cursing his earlier actions the man pulls himself out of bed. Sleep won’t come to him on its own.

He doesn’t bother to change out of his sleep clothes. Hopefully, he’ll be able to catch a few hours of slumber before truly waking. For now, he creeps out of his tent slowly. There’s a vague curfew in place, but nobody has gotten in trouble for breaking the soft rules yet.

Slipping on his sneakers Tomioka decides that the best course of action is to go on a short walk. The air is still warm and calm.

Setting off in a random direction, he hopes that a short trip will remind him of the late hour and lure sleep in. He sticks close to the border between beach and forest.

Wandering without focus leads him toward the water. This shore isn’t much different from what the rest of the land looks like. Large rocks jut out from the depths, creating a stage. The path that leads down is much less direct than the rest of the coast but still could be easily traversed. The hill is steep. Tomioka looks over the edges to watch the moon reflect on the waves. The push and pull is hypnotic. It helps to remind him of sleep. Dots of silver spread over the blanket of blue.

A sharp noise pulls Giyuu out of his haze. As his head twitches another call draws his head downward. His eyes dart around until they focus on a dot of red that peeks out.

A hand waves at him, beckoning the man closer.

He really shouldn’t, but before the thought has even passed the man is creeping down the tiny path that cuts through the small cliff. Giyuu’s toes are curling inside his toes as he inches down. Flying over the jagged rocks he finds a place to balance himself.

Rengoku looks even more beautiful up close. The moon reflecting off his golden tail is blinding. Even his tan skin looks like precious metal. Giyuu wonders if they’re sirens instead. He could easily be lured to his death like this.

It’s embarrassing how red his face turns when the merman lets out little trills. He can’t understand what the creature is trying to convey (none of the research team has figured out their language in any capacity) but smiles anyways. The colony appears to stay close together most of the time. If they are apart most still flock together in pairs of two or three. Seeing one alone is strange.

Tomioka wants to ask him. So far it seems that the language barrier goes both ways. That doesn’t stop the question from escaping his lips.

“Where are the others?”

The only answer is a cute tilt of the head and another little noise.

He really really shouldn’t, but Giyuu draws closer. A few broken bones would be well worth it. The rocks are still slick from high tide, but they’re wide enough to balance on somewhat safely.

“You’re alone?” Trying to convey the message he gestures alongside his words. Rengoku seems to understand this time, nodding eagerly. He pushes himself slightly higher out of the water, chest revealing itself more.

The two men (or one and a half men) bend closer. Communicating is mostly impossible, but both seem willing to try. Tomioka smiles and attempts another sentence.

“I like your hair.” The man points to his hair as he speaks. He waves wildly to the sea of flames surrounding his face. Lowering himself Giyuu settles onto the rocks. His pants are uncomfortably damp, but it’s a small price to pay. Reaching into his back pocket he cheers internally when the small cigarette lighter is fished out.

Lighting it with a quick stroke of his thumb Giyuu holds the flame in front of himself. “It’s like fire.”

Rengoku pushes himself out of the water more. His tail slides over the rocks as he finds a seat for himself. The mermaid’s face leans towards the light.

Tomioka shows him how the light works, fingers flicking several times. As sparks fly out from the gears they illuminate the area. He’s met with loud excited noises. Rengoku slowly moves closer without Giyuu’s notice. Creeping in his face is mere inches away from the tiny tube before it clicks off.

The mermaid’s cold breath echoes against Tomioka’s knuckles. His breathing is slightly labored outside of the water. It’s hard to see in the dark night, but Rengoku’s gills flap wildly.

He lets his clawed hand raise slightly. Giyuu tries to stay relaxed as the sharp nails near his fragile skin. They prod at the small tube of the lighter. Passing it over Tomioka watches the creature try to repeat the motion.

As his thumb strikes downward the plastic splinters under the threatening grip. Lighter fluid leaks over his hand, bits of metal and tubing dropping onto the rocks. Rengoku makes a broken sound, the fins on his head dropping slightly. Giyuu can’t help but laugh a little.

“I’ll get a new one.” It’ll probably take a month for something so frivolous to get delivered, but the creature's fascination with the simple object was adorable. The man tries to think of other easy trinkets to show him.

Rengoku is still pouting slightly, fistful of plastic. It looks tiny in his large palm. Giyuu feels no fear as he lets his fingers trace over the slick skin. He picks up the shattered pieces and places them into his pocket. For a while, he continues to let himself feel the strange combination of skin and scale. The mermaid lets his muscles flex but makes no motion to grab Tomioka.

It’s easy to see the difference in strength now. Without even meaning to Rengoku had busted the object in his loose grip. There’s a reason he doesn’t attempt to grab Giyuu back.

It’s late. His walk wasn’t intended to last this long. Though mermaids appear to be active throughout all parts of the day, substituting sleep with several shorter naps, humans don’t share the same quality. Tomioka is tired. In the lull of excitement, it catches up to him.

“I’ll bring something better next time, so you won’t break it.” Rengoku doesn’t understand his words, but the promise being spoken aloud cements it.

Pushing himself upwards the man cringes at the feeling of his cold and wet pants. Rengoku slides off the rocks, tumbling back into the ocean. He makes pouty noises as his head sticks out from the water. It’s some sort of goodbye.

—-

The next night he ventures back to the small outlook. Tomioka isn’t sure what he’s really doing. There’s no reason to believe there was any agreement about another rendezvous.

He supposes that, at worst, he can turn around and fall back asleep. Giyuu was smart enough to leave slightly earlier. Earlier that morning others commented on the bags under his eyes and slow work.

A small coin sits in his pocket. There’s nothing particularly special about it, but it’s something unbreakable. He didn’t pack much in terms of luggage and was struggling to find something that wouldn’t break.

As he approaches the sandy cliff Tomioka holds his breath. Looming over the edge he has to search for a moment. His eyes dart around frantically.

Giyuu is nearly doubled over by the time he catches a glimpse of red. Rengoku is pushed up against the wall of the hill. There’s a dip where water sits that his tail sinks into. It looks a little cramped.

The man stumbles over the bare path again. His feet skid over the rocks. The path to Rengoku is much clearer now. It’s easy to lean against the rock and the land is slightly drier than the slickness he walked over yesterday.

As he approaches the mermaid he’s greeted with flapping noises and little song-type sounds. The edges of his pants still get a little damp.

“Hello.” His mouth quirks upwards into a smile. Rengoku is even closer than yesterday. The mermaid’s chest leans against the stone. Giyuu can feel the body heat against him.

It’s just a second night, but excitement is already buzzing under his skin. The two are talking even though neither can really understand. Quiet Japanese is echoed by curled noises.

After a few moments and a brief dip in the talking Tomioka reaches into his pocket. “I brought this for you.” He talks slowly even though no amount of annunciation will get the words across. “It won’t break.”

It’s a one-yen coin. The size is so small it looks ridiculous in Rengoku’s palm. But it’s shiny and metal. He couldn’t imagine the mermaid breaking it.

Happy chirps fall from his lips. Rengoku rolls the edges of the coin in his hand. He balances it carefully between his fingers to hold it up to his eye. The silver looks strange surrounded by such brilliant gold.

Rengoku seems to have something of his own this time. He fumbles around in the small pool until he pulls out something enclosed within his fist.

They go through the same little ritual. The fish man moves incredibly slow, probably worried about harming Giyuu’s fragile skin. Rengoku spreads the other’s hand open, before dropping his gift.

Tomioka gets a small dark brown stone. It’s carefully chosen, clear by how perfectly circular it is. The surface is bare of any blemishes. It has almost a clear quality, maybe more crystal than rock.

“It’s very beautiful.”

Giyuu wonders if he’s viewed in the same way. His talking seen as low nonsensical murmurs. Rengoku’s trills suggest that he likes to echo Tomioka’s words in the same way.

Afterward, his hands are traced, an opposite scenario from yesterday. The red claws stay light, sharp edges pointed away from his skin. He keeps pushing the stone into the center of Tomioka’s palm, almost embedding it into the skin. The gold fins on his face twitch. It’s a vaguely excited motion, accented by his wide eyes.

When he closes his fist Rengoku pulls away. The mermaid stays close, face almost in Tomioka’s lap.

“Thank you, I forgot to say that.” His pants don’t have pockets, so he continues to cradle the gift in his hand.

As silence settles over them the sound of the waves act as a gentle accompaniment. Giyuu watches the small waves ripple over his scales. They interlock intricately, hundreds spreading over his tail.

“I can stay longer this time.” He really shouldn’t. The purpose of his venturing out earlier was to fall asleep at a reasonable time. The words don’t technically mean anything, not to the mermaid at least, but he can still use the excuse to justify his indulgent behavior.

They sit, exchanging occasional noises. Rengoku’s wild hair drags over the dark stone. A few strands lie on Giyuu’s pants. The thicker strands manage to resist matting, still flowing even in the dry air. It’s tempting to reach out and brush the damp locks. The longer pieces melt into the water like molten gold. Buried under the waves it seems even more soft.

He sits until he nearly nods off as is prompted by a soft tug of his pants. Rengoku stares up with wide eyes and a bemused smirk.

“I’ll go, sorry.” Sliding over the rocks he pushes himself up until he can stand. His knees are still a little weak with the need for sleep. He really should head back.

“But I’ll come again tomorrow if you’re here. I don’t mind it being late.”

He gets a little trill, maybe a confirmation, in return.

“Right, Ok. I’ll see you.” Tomioka flashes a tired smile. The one he gets back is much brighter.

—-

It’s easy for Giyuu to keep visiting. He always manages to find a small trinket to give away. A necklace or ring or even more coins make Rengoku purr with pleasure. Giyuu feels guilty about what he receives in turn, pale white bones or coral or lost iridescent scales. They’re more beautiful than anything he can offer. He wishes he could display such brilliant pieces, but instead, they hide in his bottom drawer.

It feels like some sort of affair. Night after night he escapes from his bedroom and ventures down the well-worn path. There’d surely be some sort of repercussions for the behavior. Though his lack of sleep occasionally bleeds into the days, nothing prevents him from slipping out at night. He starts finding time to nap during free hours or takes lunch in his room to nod off while it grows cold.

Nobody seems to be aware of his nightly escapades.

Sometimes, very rarely, Rengoku isn’t there. On those nights Tomioka should go back to bed and relish the extra rest. He finds himself listening to the sea anyways. It’s not quite as good company as the merman, but the quiet noise is soft and comforting. The silvery waves aren’t as brilliant as gold, but the shine is still valuable.

The nights when Rengoku is there are still far better. Even when there’s nothing to exchange. They’ve gotten bolder with touch too. Rengoku’s skin is burning hot. It stays warm all the way to the bottom of his fins. Tomioka hasn’t touched the scales much, it feels more private than even he can justify. But he’s still felt the slick slimy texture of them for brief moments.

It’s a unique kind of (what he hopes is) friendship. No words are ever exchanged, not words of actual meaning. Instead, small touches or the twitch of a facial expression says thousands of stories.

—-

It’s strange knowing so much about mermaids in the days while his coworkers talk. They pass around bits of loose scales that barely imitate the sleek feeling of the real tails. They’re pressed up under microscopes and dropped into solution afterward, discarded in a way. The admiration of the mermaids seems clinical. Every inch of their movement is analyzed for behaviors. It’s a guessing game of what’s abnormal or not.

Giyuu doesn’t presume that he knows the most about the creatures. He just notices that their noises aren’t directed to the researchers on the shore. Now that there’s distance between the two groups the mermaids don’t seem as interested.

They go back to watching them through tvs and blurry cameras. He sits in the back. Watching a film, as beautiful as the creatures are, is much less interesting than Rengoku meeting with him nearly every night.

Giyuu is known for being silent and solitary, so his general lack of intrigue isn’t particularly out of the ordinary. He does get excited on occasion too when they find tools made from fish bone or evidence of gravesites deep below the surface. It’s just the smaller things that tend to be brushed off easily.

The only downside to not looking through hours and hours of footage is that there are things he misses. Tomioka has tried looking through the static-filled videos dozens of times, but after 30 minutes the endless waves and only occasional flickers of activity leave him bored and nearly asleep most times.

Mostly he just catches up on the important things from his coworkers.

—-

“What am I looking at?” Murata seems eager as he shows off the blurry footage, but Tomioka doesn’t see anything exciting about it. Two mermaids are exchanging bits of coral and little shiny things. There doesn’t seem to be anything else to it.

“We think this is how they court, in a way. They only give gifts like that to each other. The things they wear in their hair and on their chests basically proclaim that they're spoken for.” Murata grows uncharacteristically loud as he speaks, hands waving wildly. “If you pay attention you’ll notice that this one-“ He taps towards the smaller pastel mermaid, covered in whites and gentle pinks. “-only ever accepts the gifts that A27 gives her. In turn, he does the same. If you look through the footage there’s a clear pattern…”

Giyuu can’t focus on whatever else the man is saying now. Instead, he thinks back to the small trove of gifts sitting at the bottom of his nightstand drawer. He’s grown quite the collection of things Rengoku has given him. But that isn’t the same, not at all. It’s an exchange of culture. Giyuu instigated it. It's not the same as the tender trade being shown to him.

He doesn’t think about how Rengoku traces his hand after they trade. He’s not scared of the claws anymore. They’ve learned how to handle the smooth gentle skin. Even though there’s still a tiny scratch on his finger where he wasn’t as careful.

The rest of the video is mostly nothing. Giyuu is barely watching it anyways. “That’s cool… And it’s always romantic?”

“We think so. Their relationships work similar to ours. A few of the mermaids have bonded in little groups. Until we get more information it’s hard to tell if that’s some form of polyamory or something else.”

At least Tomioka isn’t being chased by two mermaids, or more. Maybe he’s not even being chased by one. It’s confirmation bias. One blurry video and Murata’s ravings don’t really mean anything.

He’s nodding along to whatever the man is saying. “That’s really um, that’s cool Murata-san. Keep me updated on your findings.” Tomioka slowly backs up until his coworker can find an end to his rambling. Luckily most of his conversations end when Tomioka can no longer stand any more social interaction so it doesn’t come off as out of place. Murata manages to pick up on the quickly fleeting interest and wraps his sentence up neatly.

“Right well, if you find any more footage like this be sure to let me know! I’ve gone through a good few hours, but it’s takes too long and I’m worried if I speed it up…”

His shaky voice slowly fades away as Giyuu stumbles back toward his room. The man hasn’t eaten dinner yet, but he lies in his bed hoping to grab a few hours of sleep before meeting his nightly visitor. Usually, he doesn’t bother, comfortable with the constant feeling of tiredness. This evening there’s a bit of heaviness in his bones that isn’t usually there. Hopefully, it’ll drag him toward sleep.

—-

His return to Rengoku that night is much different. Giyuu can’t brush away the anxiousness that holds tight onto his heart. It’s nearly suffocating the way it consumes him. Even as he approaches the shore the waves are muted beneath the sound of his beating heart.

If he was 14 again waiting behind the school with a letter in hand this feeling would make sense. But Giyuu is a grown adult. He doesn’t feel he should fall to such childish impulses. That doesn’t change the way his fingers twitch as he ventures down to the water.

Rengoku is further out this time. Their exact meeting place often changes. Tomioka carefully steps over jagged rocks creating a rocky platform. Giyuu should’ve worn a swimsuit for this. Once he feels stable on the bridge he takes two large steps before stepping into the deep blue water. It’s lukewarm, warmed from the long hours of sun.

Rengoku is a few inches away. He spins and cheers with wide eyes. While Tomioka kicks his legs to keep himself afloat hands curl around his shoulders. The merman moves slowly. He can hardly manage to brush against the human without fear of harming him.

In reassurance, Giyuu wraps his arms around Rengoku’s neck. In such close proximity, his shoes occasionally slide against the slick tail below the water. He should’ve thought the decision through more because his sweats are weighing him down as they become saturated with water. It’s not a real problem but the feeling of wet clothes will be cumbersome on his walk back.

As Rengoku gets used to the feeling of a body against him, he begins to let his hands roam more boldly. They move over Tomioka’s sides and rest around the man’s hips. He’s making all kinds of noises, chirps and hums, and loud gargling sounds. They’re cheerful, punctuated by his wide eyes and smile. Though his arms apply light pressure Giyuu is pushed upright against his chest. Their noses keep bumping as Rengoku continues to twitch and talk.

It takes a moment for Tomioka to gather himself. Once he’s comfortably afloat the man leans back to look at Rengoku properly. Wild fiery hair extends to fill the rest of his vision. Red locks run over his knuckles, flowing over the mermaid’s shoulders.

“Sorry, shit- I should’ve thought this out more.” Rengoku doesn’t usually talk over him, but the chatter tonight seems endless. His face keeps moving in until the back of Giyuu’s head is resting against one of the rough stones. The human’s eyes slip closed while the other’s nose runs over his head. It skins over his cheeks and neck while warm breath pushes against the skin.

Below the water line, his tail flicks back and forth. It curls against Giyuu’s ankles, pushing and pulling against the kicks keeping the man afloat. His entire body is bumping against the mermaids. Rengoku really does embody fire, warmth spreading over his body.

After a few minutes, the creature’s chatter finally dies down. He settles for staring at Tomioka with wide happy eyes.

The thought that nothing about this could possibly be romantic is becoming less and less likely. With full access to the man, Rengoku’s hands roam over his hair and skin. He tugs at the short black bangs and longer pieces that curl around his ears. Giyuu keeps his own hands still hovering in the air over the broad back.

Despite the urgency all of Rengoku’s actions hold he manages to stay gentle. As he pushes the pressure remains light. When there’s no tiny fraction of room to press further into his incessant poking and drive forward finally stops.

With red cheeks Tomioka manages a few motions of his own. One hand slips down the freckled shoulders to cup his cheek. There’s a few scales that spread over his cheekbones. Moving still he nudges the edges of Rengoku’s lips.

Tomioka wasn’t sure if mermaids kissed. But as soon as he’s prompted with the smallest touch their lips are crashing together like the waves around them. Rengoku is good at kissing too, better than Giyuu is. He fumbles to keep up with the excited pace the fish man sets.

It’s hard to separate, Rengoku not needing to pull away for air. Tomioka is close to drowning before he can push the other back and breathe in. He’s still unused to the affection. Giyuu doesn’t often receive it, even from regular humans. The touch is suffocating in a nice way. It feels like a blanket wrapped around him after being stuck out in the cold.

He’s not sure exactly how to navigate this, their chests still pressed together. Pulling his hands back Giyuu tries to communicate in a different way.

His fingers point towards himself, and then at the body across from him. As Tomioka’s hands intertwine he feels foolish in the bare bones attempts. “I mean- ah fuck.” Voice wavering slightly he tries to gather himself.

Before he can talk again (and probably dig himself into a hole) Rengoku rewards Giyuu with another kiss. This one is much more tender, lasting only a few seconds. Hands move off his hips to intertwine in understanding.

With another chirp and happy hum the pair share one more kiss.