#three lakes plaza

[plumbtales]

[wayfayrr]

The Menace read your answer and this is funny as you stayed in Legend of Zelda but don't worry you have other chances to get another character from another world or game.

So gather 'round, sit back, relax and please stay in your seat. Kick your feet up and grab some popcorn. Oh, and of course, lest we not forget, enjoy the show.

Here goes a Reader which probably is the most soft but also strict one. A master with the trident! This is Mipha!Reader

Reader is the Champion of the Zoras and their beloved next ruler.

They have the gift of healing others and themself but also to heal the water.

They are 55 to 65 years old. Zoras age slower then Hylians.

What only very few know is that Reader has a beautiful singing voice and they use it to put Sidon to sleep.

They are a master with the trident.

They are not a ghost but a living version from Age of Calamity.

Reader almost could give Calamity the armour but they both were thrown into a portal.

They are a very fast swimmer compared to Wild when he wears the full Zora Armour set. They can also breath underwater.

They only have a hunch why Sidon reacted so sad as he had to leave.

They are the epitome of elegance.

They love their younger brother to bits and only wants the best for him. That's why they teached him how to swim a waterfall up and how to surf down.

Most of the Chain would be jealous probably as Reader loves Wild and Calamity.

They just see they same boy they fell in love with in both of them. These two fight like cats and dogs for their attention and affection.

Twilight wanted to help Wild but also fell in love.

Hyrule was just relieved to have another healer with them.

Funny enough Sidon, his father and Muzu are Yandere too! The older version of Sidon, obviously. Sidon lost his sibling and Muzu and Dorephan practically their child and now to have Reader stand there in the Zora Domain once again and looking around as so much changed? They don't want them to go like Sidon had to.

Sidon wants to say so many things to them and learn from them. Muzu cried as they stepped into the throne room at first and thought it was their spirit. It was very emotional as they bowed down to their father before being hugged by him and Muzu.

So those three are very overprotective over Reader and forbid them to go with the Chain.

How they met.

Reader's PoV:

I walked around as I finally managed it out of Lake Hylia and was looking for Link. We both fell into this portal but got separated as I landed alone in Lake Hylia. I was around the Zora Domain and got stared at. I was kinda freaked out because of it. It was my home or so I thought. I noticed that Ruta was on a mountain so if the people need protection I have to climb onto it. Maybe I should put Ruta somewhere else. I was on the main plaza and saw a statue of me. I was more than confused as this was me right know. I turned around and saw many Zoras looking at me with their eyes wide. I waved at the children with a smile and they began to laugh before they ran to me.

„Are you your Highness Reader?“

„Yes, I am sorry I really would like to talk to you little ones but I have to talk to my father.“ I apologized to the children who nodded and took my hand to guide me to the throne room.

I giggled and we stopped at the stairs that leaded to the throne room.

„Thank you, I really appreciate your assistance.“ I petted them before climbing the stairs carefully.

Everyone looked at me strangely here. Link was gone, even as he managed to become my appointed knight, however he managed to do that.

I could multiple men talking two of them were definitely Muzu and father but one sounded like the Sidon from the future. If I travelled through time then were was my future version? Did I really die? I only had suspicions but that would explain all the stares and the statue. I didn't notice that I stopped as I heard the voices. So I continued my way up.

„We are busy with a meeting please come back later.“ they only heard my steps as one of the men called me out but I didn't stop.

As I was in eye sight I could hear gasps and someone running at me. As I stopped I was relieved to see Link coming at me.

„Link. I'm so glad to see you. I was worried as we got separated.“ he only nodded but it didn't bother me he will speak to me on his own accord I know it.

I looked over him and saw injuries again which I began to heal immediately. „You never change do you. Always when you injured you come to me and I will heal you, do you understand?“

He blushed slightly but nodded. As I was finished I walked towards my father and future Sidon. Muzu began to cry!

„Muzu is everything alright?! Are you hurt?! Are you in pain?!“ I rushed towards him and fretted a bit. Which was kinda embarrassing as I completely lost my composure.

But he hugged me tightly and I hugged him back. I stroke his head and turned to my father and Sidon.

„Father, Sidon please tell me what happened to me? I've never seen Muzu cry like that before. Did... Did I die during the Calamity?“

„I'm sorry Reader. I couldn't tell you, it already broke me to part from you but then also tell you I never got my sibling seeing me growing up? It was to much.“ said Sidon and I nodded understandably.

„Don't worry Sidon. I understand but I'm sure that I saw you grow up and becoming the Zora you are know. Just not with a body.“ I separated from Muzu and hugged my younger brother. He even lifted me up and pressed me against him.

„It was nice seeing you but I think you know what I will going to say, aren't you?“

„You can't leave! Just stay here a little longer!!“

„But only for a bit. I have something at home and I want to get it... For someone.“ Sidon giggled and turned me around so I could see the men which were talking to father.

But I was left speechless, there were two Links and one of them was wearing the very armour I crafted. Sidon let me down and I stepped towards the two Links.

„You are Link.“ I looked at the Link who I got separated from and he nodded his head. „And you are also Link.“ I looked at the one in the armour and only then I noticed his scars on the side of his face! I immediately began to heal it as I saw some scratch marks on it. The Link began to giggle and just took my hand into his.

He smiled softly and I turned bright red. Then the other Link ripped my hand out of the grip of the other. He pushed me behind him which let me shriek and grip onto his shoulders for footing. Link growled at the other Link. I know he is protective over me but that is not like him.

„Link everything alright?“ I asked from behind him and he nodded before looking at the group of blonde men.

„Reader, you may come from another time. But I'm still your father, so you are forbidden to travel with these heroes of the past.“

„Father! But... But I have to go back! I'm still the Champion of the Zoras and Vah Ruta's pilot! Vah Ruta only listens to me. I have to go back! What is when something happens to Sidon! It will hurt this Sidon as well! My duty as a Zora Royal is to look after my people and our Domain but how can I do that if you don't let me!“

„Reader. You listen what I have to say. You will not go with these men, do you hear me?“

„You can't stop me!“ with that I dashed to the side and jumped into the water. And in mere seconds I was swimming the waterfall up. I already could hear many knights of the Zoras following me and the other Link too!

„I'm sorry father... But as the next ruler I have to decline your order. I will go back to my time... As I don't belong here...“ I ran away to were Vah Ruta was standing. It's hard to get into it as soon as I activate the defense mechanism of the beast. I only have to be faster. Good I always was the fastest Zora in water!

That's how they met and before you think. Mipha would definitely listen to her father if he orders her to stay. I know but I have to remind you. This isn't Mipha, that Mipha died because of the water blight, and Reader knows it. That's why they decline and run away. They know they don't belong in this time. They belong to Calamity's era and they have to go back there. That's why they disobey. Normally they would listen like the good child they are. But they know they don't belong there! Wild definitely will be with Calamity the first Yandere before the other even fell in love with Reader. Calamity almost lost them and Wild did lost them. Even Flora would try to convince Reader to stay! So she isn't alone, so she has at least one of her dead friends back in her life. So these two will be protective even if Reader can defend themself with their trident. They have to protect them! Wild and them are practically engaged and Calamity is their appointed knight! But Calamity now knows what Reader wanted to give and say to him. Well, Reader has now two fiancées theoretically speaking. But after the Chain fall in love one by one as Reader is like a rose. A delicate and beautiful flower but also has thorns to protect themself. Well, they all want to have a Zora armour gifted by them, even if Twilight and Time have one, they want one from Reader as it means that they are engaged and to be married. But it is hard as Reader, even if they care about the whole group, is already in love with Calamity and Wild. So they obviously give them more attention as they are in love and let me tell you, these two will not only be smug about that. Oh no, they basically show it off. Reader can talk about poetry with Warriors but as soon as they see Wild with injuries because his shield "broke" while shield surfing on Death Mountain. They rush towards him and begin to heal him. Or they listen to Sky as he explains how different the Zoras from his era look compared to them but as soon as Calamity comes to them and just wants to hug because of a "nightmare". They hug him close and cradle Calamity but still listening to Sky until Calamity whined then all their attention is on him. If the Chain boys have alone time with Reader there is a 95 % chance that Wild or Calamity or Wild AND Calamity will butt in with something. They do that to each other too. But the Chain knows they can't say anything to Reader as they have a bleeding heart and they would want them to get them mad because of it. They are their precious and darling sea rose after all.

It's been about 10 days since I got this now 😅 I took a bit of an accidental break with how exhausted I've been but back to mipha reader!!! and It's amazing as always <333

Mipha reader is going to have a very interesting dynamic with the chain, because the zora are not going to let reader go if they have any say in it what so ever. only another portal from whoever is creating them is going to have any hope of getting them away. They lost you already so long ago - like hell is that happening again

I think AoC link could feel almost entitled to reader over the others, they're from his world, they made him the zora armour, it's only because of him that the rest even met you. seeing wild in the crafted set could make him a lot more possessive of you too, cause it's an immediate threat to his relationship with you

granted they could work together to keep you to themselves rather than sharing you with the rest of the chain, they're your two fiances and the rest of the chain could be gone for all they care

I think the pressure to have zora armour could damage the others relationship with them though, seeing as they have to use their own scales to make it which can't be pleasant really and if they're in the domain with their father, retainer and brother then no way in hell is that going to be made for even a single other link no matter how hard they push - and hopefully time doesn't bring up ruto

and with wild/cal stealing their attention whenever possible? no matter how much the chain love reader they aren't going to be getting their attention any time soon over the fiances <3

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The sky burned.

He had never seen anything quite like it. He had never tasted smoke and ash so heavily, smelled metal and blood mixing in a nauseating manner that nearly emptied his stomach. He'd never seen so many bodies. He'd never fought for more than twelve hours straight.

And he'd never seen the sky burn.

The bells in the temple rang repeatedly, a warning and a petition, a prayer and a guide. It punctuated the screams, it harmonized the ticking of lasers as they charged and fired, shooting through the air with such intensity that it created miniature claps of thunder as the heat separated the air harshly before it returned together with a snap.

And the sky burned.

Abel watched as the castle was engulfed in flames, filling the night air with sickly hues of red that drowned out the oncoming sunrise. They had fought all night to hold the guardians at bay to no avail. The capital had fallen. The king had fallen.

Hyrule had fallen.

He should have died in the castle alongside the king. When the library ceiling had collapsed in on all of them, that should have ended it. He should have died so the king could have lived.

Instead he was the only one who survived.

He shook his head, ridding himself of the distraction and despair. He may have failed his duty to the royal family, but the fight was not over. Hyrule hadn't fallen yet. Just the capital. There was still an entire country. He had failed the royal family, but he would not fail its people.

Barking orders at what remained of his troops, the captain of the royal guard corralled as many people out of the city as possible. When his men had found some semblance of organization, he ran back into the fray, ending up in the square with three guardians. One swiveled its head, its eye, once blue like a placid lake, was pinkish red, infected by the blood stained clouds that shot out of the castle. The other two were preoccupied, one destroying a building while the other killed the remaining civilians in the alley where it had cornered them.

Abel felt his blood freeze as the center guardian's laser focused on him, and then his entire body screamed in rage. He echoed it with a battle cry, charging ahead with his shield. He remembered his son's trick, he remembered seeing his little knight deflect a stray accidental blast so long ago.

He just had to time it right.

The guardian fired. His heart skipped a beat. He put the shield forward, shoving with all his might just as it made impact.

His arm shrieked in protest, and his entire body shuddered.

And the guardian's head melted as its own blast reflected back at it.

Gasping for air, Abel let his arm fall limp a moment, remembering how the pot lid Link had used had shattered into a thousand splinters, his arm broken from the maneuver. He remembered rushing to the princess' aid while internally panicking over his son.

But duty had always come first.

He prayed Link and the princess were safe.

Would they be able to stop this? Would the divine beasts be enough aid to halt an entire army, as well as the calamity itself? Would the princess be able to fulfill her destiny alongside his son?

Abel shook his head. Now wasn't the time. He was growing weary from fighting all evening and all night.

The other two guardians noticed their comrade had been destroyed and immediately started to charge towards the knight.

"Captain!"

Abel turned to see a handful of his soldiers coming to his aid. He asked, "The civilians?"

"The other team is helping to evacuate them," one of his men answered.

The temple's bells rang again and then were silenced by a terrifying crash of thunder. The guardians ripped the building apart piece by piece.

And the two in the plaza charged their lasers.

Electricity shot through Abel's veins. He couldn't deflect two blasts at once, and using his shield as his sole strategy was going to get everyone killed. His arm was already aching from fighting all night, and the one parry had nearly crippled him.

Abel roared and charged forward, trying to continue zigzagging back and forth so he wouldn't be an easy target. If he could make one fire on the other, then maybe--

One guardian charged faster than the other, its blast creating a cavernous hole in the earth, sending cobblestone flying, and Abel along with it. The captain of the guard landed in a heap just in front of the other guardian as it reached its peak charge.

Abel refused to die this easily. Getting a glimpse of the other guardian in his periphery, he rolled over cobblestone and broken weapons and bodies alike, slipping under the guardian entirely as the other fired, knocking its companion onto its side and exposing Abel once more.

With one guardian at least incapacitated, his men charged forward to chip away at it while Abel was left with the other. He ran towards it again, trying to get to its legs, knowing that if he hit it enough times he could at least damage them and slow the metal beast down. When it charged another blast, he cried out in warning to his fellow knights, who had finished off the other guardian, and they all scattered. Abel dove into an alley this time, fighting the jolt of horror as he landed atop the still body of a child.

The guardian's leg tore into the alley, trying to reach for Abel. When the knight scrambled away hastily, it reached another leg above the alley entirely, slowly tearing buildings apart to reach its prey. The child's bloodied form vanished in the debris that fell. Abel felt sick all over again, but the situation was far too immediate and dire to ponder everything he'd seen over the last twelve hours.

The buildings around him crumbled entirely, leaving him cornered against the wall of another alley, and he reached for a sword he no longer had, having lost it back in the plaza.

He was pinned and he knew it.

Looking around for the nearest weapon, he found a large tree branch that had somehow been blasted into the area from the nearest garden. He grabbed it desperately, glaring with all his hatred into that baleful pink eye.

He would die a knight of Hyrule. The Calamity would never take that from him.

There was a cry that tore through the air, a little hyah that made the knight's entire being nearly crumble with the instant recognition. A small figure dove from the nearest rooftop, sacred blade glowing so brightly it nearly blinded Abel. The figure landed on the guardian's body and sank the blade so deeply into the guardian's eye with such vehemence that when it collapsed he had to brace against it with his foot to pull the blade back out.

The sky burned around them, and the little knight's eyes burned even brighter.

"Link," Abel breathed, collapsing.

His son's fierce glare melted into worry as he rushed to the captain, falling to his knees to be at eye level and look him over. Hovering behind the guardian was another figure, a girl whose white dress was already stained with soot and soil and sweat.

The princess.

"Link, you--you have to leave," Abel immediately said, putting a hand on the teenager's shoulder. Link's eyes narrowed stubbornly, almost as if in defiance, and Abel shook his head, growing dizzier by the second. The mere sight of his boy made the world crash around him, the fight finally catching up to him. "L-listen to me. I--my men are gone, Link. The castle has--"

He looked beyond his son for a moment, watching the princess as she stared at him desperately.

"The king...?" she asked quietly, her words barely audible over the destruction all around them.

Abel swallowed. "He's gone, Your Highness. I'm... I'm so sorry."

Princess Zelda's face grew whiter than her dress. She covered her mouth quickly, eyes horrified at the news, and turned away. Abel watched her a moment longer, feeling all the worse for having failed in his duty to protect the king, and then returned his focus to the young knight in front of him.

"You have to get her out of here," he said quietly, his voice beginning to shake.

Link immediately shook his head. He looked up beyond Abel, up at the castle, where the Calamity itself swirled around like a demon ready to consume its prey.

"Link!" Abel snapped, catching his boy's attention. "Listen to me! The castle has fallen. My men can't fight an army of these guardians! The divine beasts have done nothing, and if the Calamity can corrupt our army, then there's no doubt they can corrupt the beasts as well."

Link swallowed, brow furrowing together. His boy, who had tried so desperately to always be so stoic, began to look afraid. He shook his head again.

Abel's hand slid from Link's shoulder to his face, making him focus on him. "Son... they're gone."

The Champions are gone. You have no support. Don't you understand? Don't you see this is impossible?

Link's lips trembled, and he bit harshly to still them.

"Get her out of here," Abel repeated. "You can't win this fight. Not here, not like this. Go to Fort Hateno, Link. We'll rally the troops there and figure something out."

It was more than just bad news and a command. It was hope, and Link latched on to the words, his face growing stony with determination. Abel pat his cheek lightly and gave what little bit of a smile that he could muster. "I'll meet you there, okay?"

His son watched him, his façade cracking a hair, his breath hitching for just a moment. Abel slid his hand behind his boy's head, pulling him close so their foreheads rested against each other, and they both closed their eyes for a moment. "Keep her safe. Do your duty, Link. Now, go."

The moment was lost, and Link pulled away. He took a slow, deep, steadying breath, and then nodded. With determination set on his face, he turned quickly, rushing to the princess and grabbing her by the wrist, pulling her away from Abel, away from the castle, away from city and the ruin and the disaster all around them. Zelda followed helplessly, tears staining her cheeks as she turned back to look one last time at her home, her kingdom, before they vanished around a corner.

Abel sat there on the cold stone floor a moment longer, catching his breath and readying himself. He offered up a prayer for his son and the princess, for Hyrule and its protection. Then he rose, dragging his feet out into the plaza and finding his weapon and shield he had dropped.

And he moved forward as the sky burned above.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Watch and Learn, City Boy (Taylor's Version)

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Sergeant Hound x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: fluff; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; playful partners; sex in a tent; dirty talk; Grizzer has seen some shit.

A/N: This was originally written for the Writer Wednesday week 1 challenge, and if you'd prefer to read a smut-free version, you can find it here. If you like spicy lemons, keep reading!

Want to read more Hound goodness? Check out this fic by @imarvelatthestars

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?” Hound grumbles as the two of you wrangle a pile of tent poles and canvas.

“Because the hotel didn’t allow massiffs,” you say, grunting a bit as you struggle with the heavy tent.

Technically, the hotel doesn’t allow clones, either, but you leave that unsaid. You had booked the room, paid the pet deposit, and traveled from Coruscant to Alderaan, only to be abruptly turned away at check-in. Before you left, you told the hotel concierge your opinion of their corporate bigotry, and now you are also banned for life. And so here the three of you are, setting up an ancient, decrepit canvas tent that you dug out of your parents’ attic.

Well, technically the two of you are setting up the tent while Grizzer explores your campsite, sniffing the lush greenery of Alderaan with interest. The massiff is accustomed to the hard plastcrete and rancid smells of Coruscant, and you wonder if she’s ever been in nature before.

“Relax,” you say. “I did this all the time growing up. It’ll be fun!”

“Sleeping in the dirt and eating rations is your idea of fun?” Hound asks.

“The tent has a floor,” you point out, “and believe me, we can do better than rations.”

Eventually, you wrestle the tent into submission and get two bedrolls laid out inside. The scent of old canvas, saturated with woodsmoke and memories, pulls you right back to your childhood: camping under the stars, swimming in the lake, lying in the sand and exploring the world around you. You can almost hear the shrieks of laughter and your father’s deep baritone as he sings a lullaby to you and your siblings.

You hang up a few strings of twinkle lights, and then, satisfied with the cozy little retreat you’ve created, you go back outside to get a campfire started. Hound is standing with his arms crossed, looking decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.

“Has it occurred to you that there are wild animals in these woods?” he asks. “Gree told me about the wolf-cats of Alderaan.”

“Grizzer will keep us safe,” you reassure him. “Won’t you, girl? Who’s my sweet baby?”

Grizzer wiggles happily over to you and nuzzles into your chest as you squat to scritch behind her ear holes.

“Grizzer, have some dignity, for kark’s sake,” Hound says. “You are a soldier of the Republic, not a pampered lap-tooka.”

Grizzer ignores him and flops onto her back to beg for belly rubs. Seeing the way you fawn over the massiff, Hound can’t help but smile, remembering the day he met you.

“Grizzer! NO!” Hound chased after the bolting massiff as she charged an unsuspecting civilian in the middle of Monument Plaza. Grizzer had yanked the leash out of his hands and was running full-tilt through the scattering crowds. Too late, he saw her target: you. You were standing in the sun, laughing with a street vendor, and Hound would have taken a moment to appreciate your beauty if you hadn’t been directly in the path of certain doom. “Grizzer!” he shouted again. “Heel!” You turned toward the commotion with only a few meters between you and the charging massiff. Hound fought the urge to close his eyes before Grizzer launched herself and savaged you, but then something completely unexpected happened. You called out a word in a strange language, and the massiff skidded to a halt in front of you. You allowed her to sniff your hand, and then you pulled something out of your pocket and offered it to her. She took the treat and licked your hand as Hound finally caught up, heaving with exertion. “Sorry, ma’am,” he panted. “She slipped her leash. I don’t know what got into her.” You smiled up at him, and his heart thudded with more than just adrenaline when he saw the way your eyes sparkled. “She just smelled the treats,” you said with a shrug. “We always had massiffs when I was growing up, and I never got out of the habit of carrying a few treats in my pockets. I hope it’s all right that I gave her one; I really didn’t want to lose a hand.” In that moment, Hound knew he was utterly lost.

“Awww, is Daddy grumpy?” you coo at Grizzer as you rub her belly. “Is he a Cranky McGrumperson? Is he spreading his grumpy energy all over our campsite because he’s afraid to get his hands dirty?”

You shoot Hound a teasing look, and he stalks over to you, pulling you away from Grizzer and into his arms for a kiss. You sigh happily. You’ve been seeing Hound for a few weeks now, and you were hoping that a romantic trip to your home planet of Alderaan during his shore leave would give you an opportunity to take things to the next level. You had booked a room at a posh boutique hotel with a luxurious soaking tub and an incredible view of the mountains. Who knew the hoteliers would turn out to be gigantic dicks?

So you made a quick change of plans. You had been worried about Hound’s reaction to the idea of camping, but your other option was to take him to your parents’ home and sleep in your childhood bedroom, which… No thanks. Not the ideal setup for the intimate weekend you are planning.

You break away from Hound’s kiss feeling lightheaded. He’s an excellent kisser, and as you’ve discovered over the past weeks, a man who can kiss like that will bring a similar level of skill and enthusiasm to the bedroom (or the bedroll, as the case may be). Now all you have to do is coax him out of his sullen mood.

“Did I mention I happen to be an amazing cook?” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes.

His interest is immediately piqued. “How are you planning to cook out here?”

“Watch and learn, city boy,” you say with a grin.

One hour, two shaak steaks, and four bottles of ale later, Hound’s temper is remarkably improved. 

“Where did you learn to cook over an open fire like that?” he asks.

“My dad taught me,” you say as you pull out a deck of sabacc cards. “I told you we used to do this all the time when I was a kid. You in?”

He nods, so you shuffle and deal. 

“Your dad sounds like an interesting man,” he says. “Too bad he wasn’t home when we stopped by to get the camping gear. I’d like to meet him.”

You laugh, “Trust me, it’s better this way. You might be ready to take down the entire Separatist army, but you are not prepared for my parents’ boyfriend interrogation.”

“Boyfriend, is it?” Hound asks, his brown eyes twinkling.

“If you play your cards right,” you say with a smirk.

You play a few hands of sabacc, betting with pebbles since Hound doesn’t have any credits, and when it gets too dark to see the cards, you decide to change into pajamas. Grizzer goes into the tent with you and immediately flops down on a bedroll. When you’d packed for your trip, you were planning to be spending your nights in a luxury suite, and your choice of sleepwear was not exactly suited to the great outdoors, so you regretfully tuck away the lacy little chemise. You strip out of your clothes and pull on a pair of short shorts and an old Alderaan University hoodie—the best option you could find in your old bedroom at your parents’ house. 

When you leave the tent, Grizzer stays behind. Hound watches you with an unreadable expression, and you worry that he’s still not having a good time. It’s time to break out the big guns.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown, trooper?” you ask with a flirty look.

He sits forward immediately. “What did you have in mind?”

You bend over and rummage through the bags of groceries you’d bought on your way out of Aldera. When you straighten up, you notice his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. You toss him a packet of marshmallows.

“What are these for?” he asks.

You hand him a stick that you scavenged earlier in the day and teach him how to toast the marshmallows over the coals of the campfire. Hound’s immediately catches on fire, which you assure him is part of the experience. 

“It’s not a real s’more if the marshmallow isn’t at least thirty percent carbon,” you say.

You show him how to sandwich the resulting crispy, molten marshmallow in between layers of chocolate and sweet biscuits, and the bliss on his face when he tastes it for the first time makes the entire trip worthwhile. You haven’t eaten s’mores in years, and you’ve forgotten how rich they are. 

“I think I can only eat one,” you say.

“Not me,” he says. “I’ll eat the whole bag.”

You give him a delighted smile, pleased that he’s finally come around. Hound has such a sweet tooth. All the clones do, he tells you. Something to do with their enhanced metabolisms, and the fact that they rarely get to eat anything other than ration bars and bland mess hall food.

“These are incredible,” he mumbles around a bite. “Messy, though.”

“I can help with that,” you offer. You raise his hand to your mouth, licking the melted chocolate and marshmallow goo off his fingers. “After all, we both know you don’t like to get your hands dirty.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He swallows audibly. “You know, I take it back. Maybe camping isn’t so bad after all.”

You stand up and tug him to his feet, leading him to the tent. Inside, Grizzer has completely claimed one entire bedroll for herself.

“I guess we’ll have to share,” you say, already planning what kind of treat to give the massiff as a thank-you.

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Hound murmurs as he draws you close to him, running his hands down your back to squeeze your ass. “You know, with the lights on in the tent, I could see everything when you were changing.”

“Everything?” you ask, tipping your head back to gaze up into his beautiful amber eyes.

“Well, maybe not everything,” he admits. He slips a hand inside your hoodie to caress the bare skin of your back. 

“Maybe we should turn them off so we don’t scandalize all those wild animals you’re so worried about,” you tease.

“Let them watch,” he says, pulling you into a searing kiss.

Your tongue brushes against his softly. He tastes like sugar and chocolate, and you melt into him. Your hands roam over his body, sliding the jacket down his arms, tugging at his belt. You silently thank the Force that he’s wearing civvies instead of his armor. Once you’ve gotten his trousers off, you both sink to your knees onto the bedroll so you can take his shirt off without hitting the low ceiling of the tent. 

You press him backward until he’s lying down, and you move to straddle him. You’re still wearing your shorts and hoodie, and something about being fully clothed while sitting astride the very naked, very aroused man is intoxicating. You trail your hands over his smooth, brown skin, tracing his tattoos and massaging the hard muscles of his torso. He raises a hand to cup your face, and you kiss the gnarled, twisting scar on his forearm—a memento of a training accident with a young massiff. You roll your hips against him, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing against you through your shorts. He slides his hands up under your hoodie, cupping your breasts before lifting the garment off over your head. The air is chilly, and your nipples stiffen instantly.

“Oh, fuck, look at those perfect tits,” he groans. “Come here, babygirl. Let me taste you.”

You lean forward, and he captures one of your nipples in his mouth. Jolts of arousal flash through you. His large, rough hands are warm against your back, and you can’t hold back a moan of pleasure.

Grizzer huffs an annoyed snort, and without looking at the massiff, Hound commands, “Grizzer, stand guard.”

She stands with a grumble and pushes out of the tent. You hear the heavy thump as she sits down outside the opening.

“Are you telling me you could have gotten that bedroll back this whole time?” you demand with mock severity.

“Where would have been the fun in that?” Hound asks with a smug grin. “Darlin’, you look hot as kriff in those shorts, but I think it’s time to take them off.”

He holds you against his body and flips both of you over in one smooth motion so you’re lying on your back. You let out a whoop of laughter at the unexpected movement.

“Shh, you don’t want the wolf-cats to hear you and come eat us,” he teases, nipping playfully at your skin as he kisses his way down your torso.

“That’s true,” you say. “I’d rather get eaten by a Hound.”

You raise your hips, and he tugs down your shorts, then lifts your legs in the air to remove them. Before you can lie back down, he kneels and drapes your thighs over his shoulders.

“Nice trick,” you say. “Is that the kind of quick thinking that got you into ARF training?”

“They only accept the best,” he says as he lowers his face to your body.

He dips his tongue into you, sliding over your clit and into your entrance without hesitation. You arch off the bedroll with a cry, and he lays a reassuring hand on your abdomen, pressing you back down as he feasts on you. With his other hand, he strokes up and down your thigh, finally coming to rest against your ass as he grazes his thumb over your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck, Hound, don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Hmm?” he asks, pulling away. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t think the wolf-cats heard you.”

“Kriff you, Hound, shut up and eat my pussy,” you laugh, tangling your hands in his long black curls and shoving his head back down. 

He chuckles against your clit and gets back to work. Between his clever tongue and his skilled fingers, he soon has you writhing and begging beneath him, and then he does something impossibly wonderful inside you, and you shatter with a hoarse moan, squeezing your thighs around his head as you grind against his mouth.

And then he is on you, sliding into your tight heat. He fucks you without mercy, wringing a second orgasm out of you almost before you finish your first. You hold on for dear life as he pounds into you, growling words of praise and filth into your ear.

“Look at you, beautiful girl, taking my cock like a champ. Love the way you wrap those soft, perfect thighs around me, oh fuck, sweetheart. So warm, so fucking wet. Come on, baby, think you’ve got one more in you?”

You nod weakly and let out an incoherent sound, unable to form words. He reaches down to rub your clit, pressing against your lower belly. Faster than you think possible, you feel your body winding in on itself again.

“That’s my girl, my pretty girl. Fuck yeah, baby, come on—kark, you feel amazing, oh shit,” he pants. “Give me one more, honey, before I fill your sweet little pussy up with my cum. One more for your grumpy daddy, come on love.”

“YES!” you scream as the tension in your body snaps again and you convulse around his cock, bucking up against him over and over until your head is empty and your body is swamped with bliss.

He follows you into his own orgasm, thrusting hard as he empties deep inside you and collapses onto you, breathing hard. 

“Fuck, baby,” he says. “You’re incredible.”

You lie that way for a long time, tangled together, until he raises himself off of you to lie on his side as he plays with your hair. You turn to face him.

“Daddy?” you ask with a tiny smile.

He shrugs. “It felt right in the moment. Did it bother you?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Just filing it away for future reference.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead, and within moments, you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The soft light of an early summer morning filters through the canvas of the tent. You awaken slowly, feeling deliciously warm and safe. As you drift towards consciousness, you feel weight pressing against you from both sides, and you realize that at some point during the night, Grizzer has joined you and Hound on your bedroll, sandwiching you between her and the trooper. You are wrapped securely in Hound's strong arms, your legs tangled between his, and his fingers are interlaced with yours. You hear the melodic chirpings of avian-song outside the tent, and you snuggle closer to Hound, feeling his warm, even breaths against your shoulder, and lower, something suspiciously hard nudges against your thigh.

It may not be the romantic getaway you had planned, but this may be your favorite holiday ever.

---

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @imarvelatthestars

[ut-poppy-askblog]

What's the layout of the omega timeline?

Alright so this question made me dig into my files to see if I could find a thing I was making- a map with at least a generous view of the OT as it is now. And I found it!

So what we see here is a fairly underdetailed map of the OT. And there's also a sideview I used in the Underevent 2022 trailer.

Eventually, I want to provide a full index of all the locations within it, but for now I'll give a brief overview off the top of my head.

The OT in Omega Timeline: Poppy's Story is comprised of three islands:

South Island - The first Island to be built, and the second smallest. This is the closest island with generally speaking the most activity in visitors. The Door area exists around this island. And the door area is ever-changing in amounts of doors (those dots there are doors, but even then, there is probably many than I can realistically draw on). Within exist a handful of landmarks such as the Timeline Plaza, Coofus Garden, and a Lake. Admittedly, I haven't come up with a cool name. Mr. Asgore lives here, notably.

North Island - The youngest of the islands, but no less important. In this island, there exist a few foundational buildings such as the Power Plant, a BIG laboratory facility (which is where people like Fling Ding work at, for instance), and a smaller settlement town (which Fling Ding also lives in).

West Island - The second of the islands, but ostensibly the most populated. This is the island where most of the actual, permanent residents of the Omega Timeline live. It's the largest of the islands, with farmland, a great forest expanse (with a few secret locations within), the Mirror lake, the Colliseum, and the NewHomeTown... Town. That's where people the likes of Fasha, Cadence, and Poppy live.

Oh, and let's not forget the Mountain, which on the outside holds the weather facility (that facilitates clouds and weather to the whole Omega Timeline), and within exists an entire underground subsection of the OT population, with likely its own climates and whatnot. (No barrier keeping people inside the mountain, mind you).

Again, admittedly don't recall having tapped into what cool names could be, but if I remember them, I'll eventually add it in the proper post.

All of the islands have everything a city could need (hospitals, schooling facilities, so on and so forth). And all of the locations in the Omega Timeline are kept in place by walls buit around them. These walls tend to have different colors depending from where you're standing.

I'd imagine it might be more varied than this, but again, these are for roughly demonstrating stuff.

But yeah that's a general look at the layout of the OT.

[yzeltia]

Closer to You

Chapter 10 Characters: Natsu Obinata, Fuyu'li cen Zwhan, Claudien, Jannie Eyradoux, Urianger Augrulet, Thancred Waters, Patient Heaven, Keith Summers, Carter Summers, @mintibunny 's Minti Chocolate Rating: T for Teen Notes: Thank you @driftward for the mechanics pass and @mintibunny for blorbo sharing

Natsu clung to Fuyu'li as they hit a sharp turn. Within a bell of Claudien's announcement, they'd awayed to Gridania and boarded a small railcar near Baelsar’s Wall. Claudien seemed to have made a device to track auracite, and with Fuyu'li's help they'd found the strongest signals east along Abalathia’s Spine. As promised, the Summers brothers and Minti had been called to meet them. Once assembled, the auracite had started to shift west, toward Mor Dohna and passing onwards toward the west before the tracker shorted out from getting too close to Silvetear Lake.

“These parts of the railway are old, there's no way for her to escape us now beyond leaving the tracks. When she turns around at the ruined station in Carteneau, she'll be routed back into us,” Fuyu'li explained, holding tightly to a bar as they sped along, jerking at every turn.

“Then we'll see her cornered and take care of this madness before she figures out a way to damn us all,” Thancred growled.

“For your sake, our friends better be there,” Carter gruffed from behind.

Fuyu'li gulped only to have Natsu gently tug on the stringed balls on his coat. “It'll be okay. I don't think she's hurt them,” Natsu assured him.

“How can you be so sure? While we did provide amenities…ignorant of her ultimate plan I cannot be sure what her endgame was. As my master, she said she wished to use their Echo as a means to find a way to his sister. Obviously the veracity of that is now brought to light and with the information she gained from my knowledge of resonance…,” Fuyu’li said before shaking his head, “She's already killed someone too, right?”

Natsu frowned, “Yes…I had nearly forgotten and yet something feels off about that too. I cannot place the feeling though.”

Fuyu'li’s ears flattened, unconvinced by her words. Suddenly the railcar lurched and started to screech as the brakes engaged. He held Natsu tighter as she covered her horns and winced in pain from the shrill sound of metal against metal.

“We've made it to the train yard…she must be here,” Thancred said, yanking open the door to let them hop out.

The group cautiously advanced forward into the abandoned plaza. It was mostly ruined, trains turned over off their rails, some buried in the station itself. Only one portal remained unblemished and seemed to hold a functioning model.

“On your guard,” Thancred warned, advancing ahead.

“Wait, look,” Fuyu'li said, grabbing the man's shoulder as he pointed out three black chambers with windows on the front.

Each one held one of the missing people inside, breath fogging the glass as a promise of life.  Carter spotting Hayzel quickly advanced forward, pulling his blade from his back before charging to liberate them. A mechanical whir suddenly sounded out, one of the nearby trains charged to life. As a puff of scolding steam blew out toward Carter, he found himself yanked back toward the group and to Minti's side by a dark aura. Carter dropped his sword, cursing as he held his wrist, hand burned from the bit of steam that had hit him.

“Now now. That won't do,” a voice scolded, echoing through the train yard.

Everyone drew their weapons, readying for an attack while Jannie pulled Carter aside to try healing his hand. Stepping forward, Fuyu'li cleared his throat, “Ma’am, your ruse has ended. Return to us the Echo users and perhaps we will be shown leniency in light of our crimes!”

An amused laugh sounded out then stopped abruptly. “Very few of us here have made it to us without having done something awful on the way. Thancred Waters who let himself be taken over by an Ascian and unwittingly aided Gaius van Baelsar then caused such devastation to Northern Thanalan that it might never be repaired. Urianger Augurelt, ever duplicitous, though so far always for the greater good. You Fuyu'li cen Zhwan, how many people were tested to their mortal limits because of the research you helped procure for the sake of the empire? A Warrior of Light who has struck down so many lives. Two sons of Gyr Abanian nobility who slept in warm beds and had their pockets lined with gold while their countrymen fought and died in their place. And I'm sure the hands of two pawns of Gage Acquisitions haven't been left unstained by that organization. No one here is without sin!”

“Fuck you,” Carter roared, pulling away from Jannie only to be knocked back by his big brother. 

“Whatever we've done…we will one day answer to the Traders for. I might not understand a lot of what you're doing here, but I know at the end of it you won't be no god. You've got no right trying to bring everyone down to justify what you've done,” Keith huffed out.

Soon he froze, G'raha dropping down into the middle of the yard. Standing upright, the Miqo'te held a knife to his own throat, looking as if he was in tears. “Please! Just drop your weapons and go or she'll make me move my arm!”

Keith took a step back, loosing his plated knuckles. And yet he wasn't alone, everyone besides Natsu and Thancred abandoning their weapons in shock. “I'm wise to your tricks! You're not Ryne! There's no possible way,” Thancred shouted before finding Natsu launching forward past him. “Seven Hells Natsu! Don't engage her!

“I’m the only one who can see her as she is,” Natsu called back as everyone scrambled for their weapons.

Patient raised a brow as the rapier met her knife, then frowned as she used her strength to push her back. “You poor thing. You see me as I am? Have you truly never felt love in your heart for anyone?”

Natsu swiped at the woman with her rapier, only having each blow blocked, “I don’t see what that has to do with anything! And you! What would your sons say if they could see you now? Didn’t you love them? Is this what they would want? Hurting people? And for what?”

Patient glowered then pushed Natsu away as the rest advanced toward her. “This,” was all Natsu heard before being blinded by a bright red light.

[illarian-rambling]

Happy WBW! What is the most famous/influential person in the history of (one) your world(s)? Why are they so influential?

I get to talk about Tua Durnan!!! Yipee!!!

So, Tua Durnan is kind of an inside joke for me. If I ever have a building, or road, or park I need to name, I name it after him. There are like five different Durnan Streets across all of my books. But who is the guy? That's a really good question, even within the world of Illaros.

The War of Conquest, when a group of Janazi humans conquered half the continent of Iarl and established the Republic, was started by a man named Niklai Sayovski. Niklai gathered many influential figures to him; inventors, generals, priests, and mages. Anyone who wanted to start a new life away from the chaos of the Janazi isles, who were on the brink of their own war at the time.

Before the War of Conquest, Tua Durnan was a prodigy general from the small island nation of Cantr. He defected to join Niklai out of a sense of religious duty, wishing to spread the word of Illarianism to the heathen continent, and because he didn't agree with the elitist politics of Cantr's leaders. Niklai sent him to fight in the southern nations alongside his fellow generals, Agita N'Jogu and Cardor Dular. The three would become fast friends among the trials of war. However, the actions they took never sat as easily with Tua as they did with the others. It was the slaughter of Lanokos that eventually broke him.

Lanokos was a trade city on the western coast of Iarl. After their sister state of Sorail City was destroyed and its people enslaved, the people of Lanokos made a pact. None surrendered that day the Republic armies came. No quarter was given and citizens drank poison en masse rather than kneel under the humans' whip. The carnage was horrific. It was then that Tua realized he'd lost sight of what he'd come to the continent for; to forge a new home for his struggling people. Now he was causing other people to flee their own homes? To kill themselves rather than live under human rules and religion? Tua abandoned his post that very night.

Adrift now, he traveled to a growing refugee camp at the foot of the Siegewall Mountains, on an island in the middle of the Gray Lake. He thought he could help people and perhaps make up for some of what he did. Tua would go on to help turn this refugee camp into Unity, the wealthiest and most egalitarian city state in Illaros. His friends Agita and Cardor never found out what happened to him.

This was all a thousand years ago. In the current day, Tua Durnan is an oft forgotten name. Especially compared to other War of Conquest generals and leaders, most of whom's descendents still rule provinces to this day. The Republic works hard to forget him. Unity doesn't like to talk about a human former warlord playing such a large role in their history either. There are no grand monuments to this founder of the Republic, then leader of Unity, except perhaps in the private homes of the N'Jogus and Anbanes (successors to the Dulars). Even though, without him, the Republic wouldn't be half the size it is today, and Unity wouldn't exist at all.

Instead, people remember his name through public parks and rural roads, cozy hostels and market plazas. Many don't even know who he is, they just remember the name from other places it's been passed down to. I think, from whatever heaven or hell he's in, Tua would find this better than any grand monument.

Thanks for the ask!

[leam1983]

Disney Dreamlight Valley - Thoughts

It's like staring into a portal into an alternate dimension where Disney and fucking Gameloft are actually design-conscious devs in their own right, and will somehow package the Most Corporate Shit Ever with the single strongest distillation of the Life Sim formula I've seen yet.

I'm shocked, seriously. The premium elements are strictly cosmetic, the required commitment is minimal and none of the Valley's inhabitants adhere to a schedule that hampers your progression. Goofy's downed something like sixteen Adderall and cannot stop pacing up and down the central plaza, when he isn't stuck in a stumbling loop while fishing in one of the meadow's three lakes. The last I spoke with him, his shop was open and fully available by 3 AM.

Everything's accessible. Nothing's gated, except what should be gated in the context of a Life Sim, to induce a sense of progression. You've unlocked pathing tiles for the Village? You're free to cover the entire plateau in cobblestones, if that's what you want.

What the actual fuck. Coming out of Gameloft, devs who consistently paywall parts of their offered content, this feels like a Twilight Zone episode in its most positive form.

I mean - Yes, the quest-givers don't shut up and pester you for a constant downpour of menial shit that supposedly ties into reviving the Valley, but that's only if you do decide to interact with them. If you don't, you're free to spend entire days tweaking the Village's layout.

So, how different is it from Animal Crossing, exactly? Well, first of all, the whole damn thing has a Copyrighted symbol in full-view. If you're one of the staunch anti-Disney posters on here, this is a definitive mark of avoidance for you. Past that, it's basically a name-swapping affair: Tom Nook is split up between Scrooge McDuck (for personal housing needs) and Goofy (for exterior farming resources). Isabelle is more or less handled by The Sword in the Stone's Merlin, and Mickey eventually serves as your Blathers analogue. The one outlying mechanic is an Energy system, which asks you to either keep some food on you at all times to keep topping off, or that simply suggest you return home for a few seconds. Considering how most of the game will take place within walking distance from your personal plot of land, this is an extremely generous implementation of that mechanic.

If I had to dock Dreamlight any points, I'd mention the lack of obviousness of certain quests. I've reached one of the themed Realms in my current save; Realms being tiny instances themed around characters that aren't part of the House of Mouse's main stable. Take, for instance, WALL-E, from the movie of the same name. I've ended in his tiny little pocket world, and was asked to find something to repair one of his treads. I went looking and only found scrap that the game did define as quest items, but never specified what I should do with.

I'd assume this is just a matter of taking five to go check out a walkthrough online, but I really shouldn't have to do this. Even Crossing's most annoying event, like Gulliver's visits, typically include clear cues in the character's dialogue. WALL-E only spews "Directive?" at the player and disengages. Your 'toon somehow immediately grasps what's going on and realizes the robot needs repairs, but the process involved is never made clear. There's a crafting bench nearby, but no amount of fishing around got me close to anything resembling gear or tread blueprints.

Past that, color me pleasantly surprised. The farming mechanic is even more forgiving than Crossing's, the game's client-side currency is generously doled out, and the server-side token is actually not accessible in a Cash Shop!

At this point, it's sort of hard to figure out what the game is doing online. Apart from analytics, the occasional ad served in the Store page - which you can entirely miss - and the gatekeeping of Dreamlight (the currency, not the game itself) to structure player progression and avoid abuse, it behaves entirely like your average PC offering, complete with a flawless response rate on the Steam Deck and a gaggle of easy exploits accessible with a trainer. Can't pay back Scrooge's loan fast enough for your liking? Just pick a trainer producer of your choosing or hex-edit yourself a berjillion coins, and move on right ahead! No online-only bullshit as you would've expected from Disney and Gameloft!

It's a very pleasant surprise, overall. Skip it if you're allergic to remixes of When you Wish upon a Star or if Disney's older stable feels so saccharine to you that you'd rather jam sporks in your eyeballs - but it's actually a very competent Life Sim that's surprisingly lenient and pleasant. It's the most pro-consumer flex I've seen the Mouse pull off in a long time, and a great alternative if you're looking for something to fill in that Tom Nook-shaped divot in your heart, in the absence of a Nintendo Switch or a copy of New Horizons.

[eulaliasims]

Hello! I'm curious where you can find the flower patterned wallpaper and the fireplace form your last lot makeover of Three Lakes Plaza. (post/696676036147118080) Thanks :)

Hi!

1: I'm not sure if you want the wallpaper from the lobby or the dining room, since they both look a bit flowery to me, but luckily they're both from Shasta's Holiday Bouquet wallpaper set!

2: The fireplace is a 4t2 conversion by Tony-Veis; you may want the edited mesh in Zero's post here, which makes the mantle recolorable.

[plumbtales]

THREE LAKES PLAZA | CC-FREE ✅

Requires: All EPs and SPs Type: Community Lot

———————————————

⚠️ Last Updated: September 3rd, 2023

💾 SFS | MEDIAFIRE

Ko-fi ☕

———————————————

Recommended Mods ☑️

🔹 Rug Fix

🔹 No Fireplace Fires

🔹 Centerpiece Enabler

🔹 CEP

———————————————

More pictures under the cut

Floor Plan

[alixennial]

Limsa Lominsa & La Noscea (2/3)

Woad Whisper Canyon, Middle La Noscea

Little more than a shallow valley but five years past, Woad Whisper Canyon was carved into a gaping gorge in a matter of moons after the Calamity drained Bronze Lake and dramatically altered the course of the Nym River. On hot days, laborers from both Summerford Farms and the Skylift will oft take respite in the cool mists of the falls…if not met by bandits.

Summerford Farms, Middle La Noscea

When Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn rose to Admiral, one of her first decrees included the clearing of large swaths of land for new Lominsan settlements. Summerford Farms and its expansive orange groves is one of those locations--its name is derived from the man-made crossings required when late spring runoff from Mt. O'Ghomoro causes the Rogue River to swell.

The Grey Fleet, Lower La Noscea

Sitting high atop Widow Cliffs on the southeastern coast of Vylbrand, the Grey Fleet was built to harness the constant southerly winds funneled down through the Strait of Merlthor, and use them to power the many mills which grind the region's wheat and full its wool.

Hidden Falls, Eastern La Noscea

Sheltered on three sides by towering cliffs, Hidden Falls can be found several score yalms upstream from where the Agelyss River empties into the Strait of Merlthor. Taken by its beauty, Ul'dahn plutocrat Gegeruju was quick to purchase the land and construct a stage upon which private performances for the magnate's favored clients are held.

Gullperch Tower, Eastern La Noscea

One of three beacons built along the La Noscean coast in the Sixth Astral Era, Gullperch Tower is the easternmost--warning ships navigating the Strait of Merlthor of its deadly shallows, while also serving as a watchtower for pirate and Sahagin raids on Bloodshore.

The Navigator, Western La Noscea

Carved centuries past by a famous Roegadyn sculptor, this massive stone effigy located in the center of Aleport's lower plaza serves as hallowed ground upon which sailors might offer solemn prayers to the watcher of the seas before embarking on their journeys across the untamed deep.

The Ship Graveyard, Western La Noscea

For Centuries, ships wrecked off the shores of southern Vylbrand have been carried upon currents to this quiet inlet--a timeless reminder of the deep's boundless wrath. So many are the wooden corpses which populate this watery lichyard, it is said that for every hull visible above the waves, a score more slumber beneath.

Camp Skull Valley, Western La Noscea

Now a strategic outpost for the Maelstrom, Camp Skull Valley was once but a circle of tents occupied by a meager Yellowjacket charged with surveilling the area for kobold incursions. Those beastmen foolish enough to venture down from O'Ghomoro were slaughtered and beheaded--their skulls put on display as a warning to others.

Tidegate, Western La Noscea

Taking advantage of the chaos left in the Calamity's wake, a large force of Sahagin rose from the seas and laid claim to Halfstone, a distant Lominsan settlement on the far-western edge of La Noscea. To prevent any further swells of the beastman forces, a massive wall was erected between the enemy-occupied lowlands and the allied Skull Valley.

Indie's Sightseeing Log

Limsa Lominsa & La Noscea (1/3) Limsa Lominsa & La Noscea (2/3) Limsa Lominsa & La Noscea (3/3)

Gridania & The Black Shroud (1/3) Gridania & The Black Shroud (2/3) Gridania & The Black Shroud (3/3)

Ul'dah & Thanalan (1/3) Ul'dah & Thanalan (2/3) Ul'dah & Thanalan (3/3)

Mor Dhona (1/1)

Ishgard & The Coerthas Highlands (1/3) Ishgard & The Coerthas Highlands (2/3) Ishgard & The Coerthas Highlands (3/3)

Dravania (1/4) Dravania (2/4) Dravania (3/4) Dravania (4/4)

Abalathia's Spine (1/3) Abalathia's Spine (2/3) Abalathia's Spine (3/3)

[giuliacolla]

Finalmente l’Argentina

L’ho sognata per anni, prima e dopo il corona virus.

Finalmente siam partiti, Giampiero ed io.

In primis Buenos Aires: il cuore pulsante di un paese grande quasi 3 milioni di km².

Nella parte nord della città abbiamo visitato i ricchi quartieri di Palermo

e di Recoleta, nel cui cimitero riposa Eva Peron.

Poi Plaza de Mayo con la Casa Rosada, il Parlamento e la Catedral, da cui proviene Papa Francesco.

Eccellente caffe da “Pertutti”: bar sontuoso, sembrava di essere al S. Carlo di Torino.

Lasciamo B.A. per volare a El Calafate e visitare il Parque Nacional “Los Glaciares”, dove sono presenti tre diversi ambienti:

l’alta montagna, con i famosi ghiacciai Perito Moreno e Upsala

il bosco andino-patagonico, con foreste di Lenga e Nire

la steppa patagonica, settimo maggior deserto del mondo.

Partiamo per escursione d’intera giornata “Todo Glaciares”, navigando il lago argentino tra gli iceberg, con sosta per il lunch alla base Spegazzini.

Successiva tappa: Ushuaia. Sorvoliamo lo stretto di Magellano e raggiungiamo questa perla di città ai confini del mondo.

Qui, sotto l’ottima guida di Mariano, visitiamo il parco nazionale “Tierra del Fuego”, dove i primi abitanti, gli indios Ona, usavano accendere grandi fuochi, da cui il nome dato dai primi colonizzatori.

Segue la navigazione sul canale di Beagle, dove ammiriamo le colonie di leoni marini e di cormorani.

Al 9° giorno voliamo a Trelew e raggiungiamo Puerto Madryn. visitiamo quindi la Peninsula Valdes, dove alla Estancia S. Lorenzo possiamo camminare in mezzo alla più grande colonia di pinguini del continente.

Al tramonto ci imbarchiamo a Puerto Piramides per ammirare le balene: eccitante, ma un freddo boia!

Il 4° volo è per le cascate di Iguazù. Le ammiriamo da sopra e da sotto, dal versante argentino e da quello brasiliano: una meraviglia!

Concludiamo la nostra vacanza con la visita ai quartieri sud di Buenos Aires, S. Telmo e La Boca.

Alla sera non possiamo mancare lo spettacolo del tango.

È stato un viaggio magnifico, anche se molto stancante, organizzato dall’agenzia Etlim di Imperia per un gruppo di 22 persone con cui ci siamo trovati bene. Il viaggio è durato 15 gg., di cui 2 di viaggio con Argentina Aerolineas, durata 14 ore (-4 all’andata + 4 al ritorno).

Oltre ai bei ricordi ci portiamo a casa anche quattro riproduzioni di un artista argentino che esponeva a Ushuaia.

I DREAMED IT FOR YEARS, BEFORE AND AFTER THE CORONA VIRUS.

AT LAST WE DID IT, GIAMPIERO AND I.

FIRST BUENOS AIRES: THE BEATING HEART OF THIS COUNTRY, ALMOST 3 MILLION SQUARE KM. LARGE.

IN THE NORTH OF THE CITY WE VISITED THE WEALTHY NEIGHBORHOODS OF PALERMO AND RECOLETA, IN WHOSE CEMETERY RESTS EVA PERON.

THEN PLAZA DE MAYO WITH THE CASA ROSADA, THE PARLIAMENT AND THE CATHEDRAL, FROM WHICH POPE FRANCIS COMES.

EXCELLENT COFFEE AT “PERTUTTI”: SUMPTUOUS BAR, WE FELT LIKE BEING AT THE S.CARLO IN TURIN.

WE LEAVE B.A.TO FLY TO EL CALAFATE AND VISIT THE PARQUE NACIONAL LOS GLACIARES, WHERE THERE ARE THREE DIFFERENT ENVIRONMENTS:

THE HIGH MOUNTAINS, WITH THE FAMOUS GLACIERS PERITO MORENO AND UPSALA

THE PATAGONIAN-ANDEAN FOREST, MOSTLY COVERED BY LENGA AND NIRE TREES

THE PATAGONIAN STEPPE, THE 7TH WIDEST DESERT IN THE WORLD.

WE HAVE A FULL-DAY EXCURSION CALLED “TODO GLACIARES” SAILING ON THE ARGENTINE LAKE AMONG THE ICEBERGS AND STOPPING FOR LUNCH AT THE SPEGAZZINI BASE. NEXT STOP: USHUAIA. WE FLY OVER THE STRAIT OF MAGELLAN AND REACH THIS PEARL OF A CITY AT THE EDGE OF THE WORLD.

HERE, UNDER THE VERY GOOD GUIDANCE OF MARIANO, WE VISIT THE NATIONAL PARK “TIERRA DEL FUEGO”, WHERE THE FIRST INHABITANTS, THE INDIOS ONA, USED TO LIGHT BIG FIRES, HENCE THE NAME GIVEN BY THE FIRST COLONIZERS.

THEN WE SAIL ON THE BEAGLE CHANNEL, WHERE WE ADMIRE THE COLONIES OF SEA LIONS AND CORMORANTS.

ON THE 9TH DAY WE FLY TO TRELEW AND WE REACH PUERTO MADRYN. WE THEN VISIT THE PENINSULA VALDES, WHERE AT THE ESTANCIA S.LORENZO WE WALK AMONG THE BIGGEST COLONY OF PENGUINS IN THE CONTINENT.

AT SUNSET WE GO TO PUERTO PIRAMIDES TO ADMIRE THE WHALES: EXCITING, BUT FREEZING COLD!

THE 4TH FLIGHT IS TO IGUAZU WATERFALLS. WE ADMIRE THEM FROM ABOVE AND BELOW, BOTH SIDES (ARGENTINEAN & BRASILIAN): A WONDER!

WE END OUR TRIP WITH A LAST TOUR IN B.A., THIS TIME TO THE SOUTHERN PART OF THE CITY: S. TELMO AND LA BOCA. AND IN THE EVENING WE CAN’T MISS THE TANGO EXHIBITION.

IT WAS A MAGNIFICENT JOURNEY, ALTHOUGH VERY TIRING, ORGANISED BY THE ETLIM AGENCY IN IMPERIA. WE WERE A GROUP OF 22 PEOPLE, WE HAD A GOOD TIME. IT LASTED 15 DAYS, 2 OF WHICH TRAVELLING WITH ARGENTINA AEROLINEAS FOR 14 HOURS (-4 TO GO + 4 TO COME BACK)

IN ADDITION TO THE GOOD MEMORIES, WE TOOK HOME FOUR REPRODUCTIONS OF AN ARGENTINE ARTIST WHO EXHIBITED IN USHUAIA.

[laxmiree]

[CN] 5th Anniversary - Lucien (Star Plaza)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

“In fact, whether it's camping or soaking in the hot springs later on, it's fine!”

“Because we are together 24 hours a day, always inseparable (ﾉﾟ∀ ﾟ)⁠ﾉ”

~

“The scene we are experiencing right now, what do you think it looks like?”

“...Like us.”

“Like us who are sometimes catching up to each other, like us who are sometimes approaching each other, and like us who are sometimes becoming so far away.”

✧ 5th Anniversary Event | Prologue | Creative Workshop | King Fuk Street | Wonderland | Star Plaza (You’re here!) | Final Day- Heart Rain Lake | Roast! | Truth and Dare Pinball Machine | Random Event tidbits

(T/N: since every day basically follows the same routine of MC waking up in their hotel room to find Lucien not doing anything about his ‘report’ (lol), being suspicious about it, and then Lucien diverting her suspicion, for now I’ll only translate the main part of the story and add other parts (hotel room) later~)

MC: Lucien, I just heard that the hotel's hot spring is finally open to the public!

MC: When we come back at night, let's take a dip together to relieve fatigue, shall we?

Lucien: Okay. I looked at the weather this morning, and it said no clouds today.

Lucien: It is highly recommended for couples to see the stars outdoors, so...

Lucien: Originally, I was going to take you camping.

Lucien: But it looks like the stars will have to step in line tonight.

MC: In fact, whether it's camping or soaking in the hot springs later on, it's fine!

MC: Because we are together 24 hours a day, always inseparable (ﾉﾟ∀ ﾟ)⁠ﾉ

MC: It is indeed the largest shopping street in the park. It is really bustling!

MC: Luckily, I wear flat shoes so I can walk all day without any worries.

Lucien: Don't worry, there are many taxis here.

Lucien: If we get tired of walking, we can also take a taxi straight to the hotel.

MC: That's good to hear! Oh, I see.

MC: Next, I will use my strength without reservation to-

MC: Shopping and browsing like crazy!

Lucien: Then my clever lady, let's go now.

Although it was Lucien's suggestion to come here, we seemed to be just strolling around aimlessly.

This makes my previous doubts and suspicions even more puzzling…

So, I can't help but peek at him along the way, trying to find any "clues".

But this person who seems to have predicted my prediction is almost to the end of the street, and still did not act in a particular way          

…Is it true that I am overthinking?

But my instinct tells me otherwise.

I saw a long line in front of a store and thought about my previous experiences with long lines, so I took a peek at him again.

But Lucien didn't pay much attention and was about to pass the end of the queue.

At that moment, an idea came to my mind, and I stopped to point at the long line.

MC: Lucien, let's go over there, shall we? There seems to be some kind of event there.

Lucien: Okay.

When we finally got in line, we got a clear idea of the event's rules from the promotional video playing on the wall.

This place is a mirror maze house. Participants need to start from different places and to find each other without stopping.

There are three chances to talk to each other on the way, and each time is limited to 15 seconds.

Clerk: If you two have understood the rules, get the walkie-talkie and get ready to go!

Then, Lucien and I were taken to different entrances.

After lifting the curtain by myself, I saw countless mirrors, and there were also countless me in the mirrors.

Under the bright light, I took a few steps. I started to get "dizzy" and soon lost my way.

MC: …It doesn't seem that simple.

I muttered in a low voice, and suddenly there was a noise on the intercom, followed by the sound of a familiar voice.

Lucien: MC, can you hear me?

Lucien: Have you decided which food restaurant you want to visit at night?

Hearing him just casually chatting, I couldn't help but smile, and my initial nervousness slowly relaxed.

MC: I want to eat hot pot, but Professor Lucien… Don't you consider this a waste of precious contact time?

Lucien: For me, the walkie-talkie is just a way to talk to you.

Lucien: So I didn't want to waste it on information exchange because we will surely encounter each other.

MC: Hahaha, that's true-

Without waiting for me to finish, there was a zap from the intercom, and the signal was automatically cut off.

MC: The staff is too accurate in timing. They don't even give one more extra second......

As I kept walking, I couldn't help but mutter in a low voice, while mentally figuring out what dishes I wanted to order for the hot pot tonight.

I don't know how long I walked, but I saw Lucien's figure finally appear in the mirror before me, and my heart rejoiced.

MC: Lucien!

I walked quickly toward him, but he turned around and disappeared when I was about to meet him.

So it was just a reflection in the mirror…

But now that he's in sight, it means we're very close.

With this in mind, I looked around and soon saw him again on the back left.

This time I ran directly toward Lucien, but once again, I ran into a dismayed version of myself in the mirror.

MC: The mirror is too deceptive…

I secretly complained and continued to search for Lucien's figure without giving up–

Time passes, and I "pass by" Lucien again and again.

At times we were looking at each other in close proximity, and at other times I felt as if he wasn't looking at me.

The sudden distances and nearness gradually connected my inner confusion with my previous guesses.

Finally, I couldn't resist pressing the walkie-talkie.

MC: Lucien, I have a question. Have you been preparing something?

Across the walkie-talkie, there was a moment of silence and the sound of shallow breathing.

Lucien: I have nothing prepared today.

I was stunned, and he seemed to be admitting many things implicitly.

The next thing that broke the moment's silence was the noise of the signal interruption. But soon, a third call came over the walkie-talkie.

Lucien: MC, the scene we are experiencing right now, what do you think it looks like?

I did not stop, looking at the distant Lucien from me suddenly getting closer and farther away. I pursed my lips.

At this moment, many answers emerged in my mind and then condensed into the one and only answer.

MC: ...Like us.

MC: Like us who are sometimes catching up to each other, like us who are sometimes approaching each other, and like us who are sometimes becoming so far away.

I seemed to understand something, so I kept running with firm steps. Because I knew that even though there were obstacles, we were always on the road to each other.

Soon, an all-too-familiar voice came from nearby.

Lucien: MC.

Lucien: I always ask myself why I will come to your side.

Lucien: But I found that from start to finish, there was only one answer to this.

I subconsciously followed the sound, and after taking a step toward the glass on my side, Lucien miraculously appeared in front of me.

This time, it is no longer the false illusion but the reality of each other.

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

[T/N: Final Day/Segment is after this!]

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Writer Wednesday, Week 1 (2023)

Tagging @writer-wednesday

Watch and Learn, City Boy

Summary: Your romantic getaway with Sergeant Hound hits a snag, but luckily, you're resourceful. Hound isn't so sure about this whole "camping" thing, but you know the best way to get him on board.

Pairings: Clone Sergeant Hound x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars/The Clone Wars

Rating: T (spicy version is on AO3! Link below!)

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff; mild language; implied/fade-to-black sensuality

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?” Hound grumbles as the two of you wrangle a pile of tent poles and canvas.

“Because the hotel didn’t allow massiffs,” you say, grunting a bit as you struggle with the heavy tent.

Technically, the hotel doesn’t allow clones, either, but you leave that unsaid. You had booked the room, paid the pet deposit, and traveled from Coruscant to Alderaan, only to be abruptly turned away at check-in. Before you left, you told the hotel concierge your opinion of their corporate bigotry, and now you are also banned for life. And so here the three of you are, setting up an ancient, decrepit canvas tent that you dug out of your parents’ attic.

Well, technically the two of you are setting up the tent while Grizzer explores your campsite, sniffing the lush greenery of Alderaan with interest. The massiff is accustomed to the hard plastcrete and rancid smells of Coruscant, and you wonder if she’s ever been in nature before.

“Relax,” you say. “I did this all the time growing up. It’ll be fun!”

“Sleeping in the dirt and eating rations is your idea of fun?” Hound asks.

“The tent has a floor,” you point out, “and believe me, we can do better than rations.”

Eventually, you wrestle the tent into submission and get two bedrolls laid out inside. The scent of old canvas, saturated with woodsmoke and memories, pulls you right back to your childhood: camping under the stars, swimming in the lake, lying in the sand and exploring the world around you. You can almost hear the shrieks of laughter and your father’s deep baritone as he sings a lullaby to you and your siblings.

You hang up a few strings of twinkle lights, and then, satisfied with the cozy little retreat you’ve created, you go back outside to get a campfire started. Hound is standing with his arms crossed, looking decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.

“Has it occurred to you that there are wild animals in these woods?” he asks. “Gree told me about the wolf-cats of Alderaan.”

“Grizzer will keep us safe,” you reassure him. “Won’t you, girl? Who’s my sweet baby?”

Grizzer wiggles happily over to you and nuzzles into your chest as you squat to scritch behind her ear holes.

“Grizzer, have some dignity, for kark’s sake,” Hound says. “You are a soldier of the Republic, not a pampered lap-tooka.”

Grizzer ignores him and flops onto her back to beg for belly rubs. Seeing the way you fawn over the massiff, Hound can’t help but smile, remembering the day he met you.

“Grizzer! NO!”

Hound chased after the bolting massiff as she charged an unsuspecting civilian in the middle of Monument Plaza. Grizzer had yanked the leash out of his hands and was running full-tilt through the scattering crowds. Too late, he saw her target: you.

You were standing in the sun, laughing with a street vendor, and Hound would have taken a moment to appreciate your beauty if you hadn’t been standing directly in the path of certain doom.

“Grizzer!” he shouted again. “Heel!”

You turned toward the commotion with only a few meters between you and the charging massiff. Hound fought the urge to close his eyes before Grizzer launched herself and savaged you, but then something completely unexpected happened.

You called out a word in a strange language, and the massiff skidded to a halt in front of you. You allowed her to sniff your hand, and then you pulled something out of your pocket and offered it to her. She took the treat and licked your hand as Hound finally caught up, heaving with exertion.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he panted. “She slipped her leash. I don’t know what got into her.”

You smiled up at him, and his heart thudded with more than just adrenaline when he saw the way your eyes sparkled.

“She just smelled the treats,” you said with a shrug. “We always had massiffs when I was growing up, and I never got out of the habit of carrying a few treats in my pockets. I hope it’s all right that I gave her one; I really didn’t want to lose a hand.”

In that moment, Hound knew he was utterly lost.

“Awww, is Daddy grumpy?” you coo at Grizzer as you rub her belly. “Is he a Cranky McGrumperson? Is he spreading his grumpy energy all over our campsite because he’s afraid to get his hands dirty?”

You shoot Hound a teasing look, and he stalks over to you, pulling you away from Grizzer and into his arms for a kiss. You sigh happily. You’ve been seeing Hound for a few weeks now, and you were hoping that a romantic trip to your home planet of Alderaan during his shore leave would give you an opportunity to take things to the next level. You had booked a room at a posh boutique hotel with a luxurious soaking tub and an incredible view of the mountains. Who knew the hoteliers would turn out to be gigantic dicks?

So you made a quick change of plans. You had been worried about Hound’s reaction to the idea of camping, but your other option was to take him to your parents’ home and sleep in your childhood bedroom, which… No thanks. Not the ideal setup for the intimate weekend you are planning.

You break away from Hound’s kiss feeling lightheaded. He’s an excellent kisser, and as you’ve discovered over the past weeks, a man who can kiss like that will bring a similar level of skill and enthusiasm to the bedroom (or the bedroll, as the case may be). Now all you have to do is coax him out of his sullen mood.

“Did I mention I happen to be an amazing cook?” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes.

His interest is immediately piqued. “How are you planning to cook out here?”

“Watch and learn, city boy,” you say with a grin.

One hour, two shaak steaks, and four bottles of ale later, Hound’s temper is remarkably improved. 

“Where did you learn to cook over an open fire like that?” he asks.

“My dad taught me,” you say as you pull out a deck of sabacc cards. “I told you we used to do this all the time when I was a kid. You in?”

He nods, so you shuffle and deal. 

“Your dad sounds like an interesting man,” he says. “Too bad he wasn’t home when we stopped by to get the camping gear. I’d like to meet him.”

You laugh, “Trust me, it’s better this way. You might be ready to take down the entire Separatist army, but you are not prepared for my parents’ boyfriend interrogation.”

“Boyfriend, is it?” Hound asks, his brown eyes twinkling.

“If you play your cards right,” you say with a smirk.

You play a few hands of sabacc, betting with pebbles since Hound doesn’t have any credits, and when it gets too dark to see the cards, you decide to change into pajamas. Grizzer goes into the tent with you and immediately flops down on a bedroll. When you’d packed for your trip, you were planning to be spending your nights in a luxury suite, and your choice of sleepwear was not exactly suited to the great outdoors, so you regretfully tuck away the lacy little chemise. You strip out of your clothes and pull on a pair of short shorts and an old Alderaan University hoodie—the best option you could find in your old bedroom at your parents’ house. 

When you leave the tent, Grizzer stays behind. Hound watches you with an unreadable expression, and you worry that he’s still not having a good time. It’s time to break out the big guns.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown, trooper?” you ask with a flirty look.

He sits forward immediately. “What did you have in mind?”

You bend over and rummage through the bags of groceries you’d bought on your way out of Aldera. When you straighten up, you notice his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. You toss him a packet of marshmallows.

“What are these for?” he asks.

You hand him a stick that you scavenged earlier in the day and teach him how to toast the marshmallows over the coals of the campfire. Hound’s immediately catches on fire, which you assure him is part of the experience. 

“It’s not a real s’more if the marshmallow isn’t at least thirty percent carbon,” you say.

You show him how to sandwich the resulting crispy, molten marshmallow in between layers of chocolate and sweet biscuits, and the bliss on his face when he tastes it for the first time makes the entire trip worthwhile. You haven’t eaten s’mores in years, and you’ve forgotten how rich they are. 

“I think I can only eat one,” you say.

“Not me,” he says. “I’ll eat the whole bag.”

You give him a delighted smile, pleased that he’s finally come around. Hound has such a sweet tooth. All the clones do, he tells you. Something to do with their enhanced metabolisms, and the fact that they rarely get to eat anything other than ration bars and bland mess hall food.

“These are incredible,” he mumbles around a bite. “Messy, though.”

“I can help with that,” you offer, licking the melted chocolate and marshmallow goo off his fingers. “After all, we both know you don’t like to get your hands dirty.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He swallows audibly. “You know, I take it back. Maybe camping isn’t so bad after all.”

You stand up and tug him to his feet, leading him to the tent. Inside, Grizzer has completely claimed one entire bedroll for herself.

“I guess we’ll have to share,” you say, already planning what kind of treat to give the massiff as a thank-you.

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Hound murmurs as he draws you close to him, running his hands down your back to squeeze your ass. “You know, with the lights on in the tent, I could see everything when you were changing.”

“Everything?” you ask, tipping your head back to gaze up into his beautiful amber eyes.

“Well, maybe not everything,” he admits. He slips a hand inside your hoodie to caress the bare skin of your back. 

“Maybe we should turn them off so we don’t scandalize all those wild animals you’re so worried about,” you tease.

“Let them watch,” he says.

***

The soft light of an early summer morning filters through the canvas of the tent. You awaken slowly, feeling deliciously warm and safe. As you drift towards consciousness, you feel weight pressing against you from both sides, and you realize that at some point during the night, Grizzer has joined you and Hound on your bedroll, sandwiching you between her and the trooper. You are wrapped securely in Hound's strong arms, your legs tangled between his, and his fingers are interlaced with yours. You hear the melodic chirpings of avian-song outside the tent, and you snuggle closer to Hound, feeling his warm, even breath against your shoulder. 

It may not be the romantic getaway you had planned, but this may be your favorite holiday ever.

Spicy version here:

[kammartinez]

When Roxy Music was recording “Street Life” for the 1973 album Stranded, they hung a mic out the window of AIR Studios above Oxford Street, but they didn’t like the results and they ended up mixing in the sounds of a Moroccan market instead. As “Street Life” begins, we hear traffic amid four haunting chords and a shimmering hi-hat rhythm, and then Bryan Ferry belts out that he wishes everyone would leave him alone. He goes out for a walk. “Each verse seems to have its own character,” he later said, “like blocks on a street.” A fan since my youth of early Roxy Music, I still hear that song’s ethereal city vibe when I, too, wish everyone would leave me alone and, like Bryan, hit the streets.

If I go left, heading into what I think of as downtown Echo Park, I glimpse the green folds of the Angeles Crest as I pass Craftsman and Victorian houses and courtyard bungalows. I turn onto Sunset Boulevard, passing barber shops, burger stands, bookstores, and botanicas. I can get my knives sharpened and my shoes repaired, shop for groceries, eat eighty different kinds of food. The streets are full of people of all kinds, even as Echo Park comes twentieth in a walkability ranking of L.A. neighborhoods, according to some website. MacArthur Park, which is more population-dense than parts of Manhattan, ranks higher, as does Hollywood. But here I have the option of avoiding commerce by going three blocks north to the park, where I can walk miles of shaded trails. Or stroll my little residential enclave, where people are sitting on their stoops, a guy is working on his ’68 Camaro, trees are heavy with citrus, softball-size dragon fruits shine redly through a fence. I can walk to Echo Park Lake, due west, entirely through an alleyway, where among overgrown fig trees and sidewalk pulverized to dirt you might think you were in some Mississippi backwater Barry Hannah was describing, but you’re parallel and just behind Sunset. At the lakefront are picnickers, food carts, fishermen creating what my son refers to as “pressure on the lake.” One day I watch a guy and girl furtively produce a pristine white duck from a knapsack and release it. They’ve clearly just bought the thing at a live-poultry shop and are trying to rewild it among the mallards and grebes, but the mission seems also to be a form of courtship.

On these walks, minutes from home, I am certain that Los Angeles, which I moved to from New York twenty years ago, is the most beautiful city in the world (and yes, I have seen the world). But that’s only if I go west or north or south. If I head east, toward downtown, 1.5 miles away, my booster talk ebbs. It’s freeway overpasses, empty lots, and fortress-like buildings, a dead zone.

I should be able to walk to the opera house, Walt Disney Concert Hall, the Broad, the Bradbury Building, or City Hall, to the grand old theaters on Main Street, the jewelry district, Union Station. To Philippe the Original on Alameda, a hundred-year-old deli where undertakers from the nearby mortuaries park their hearses and stop in for a sandwich. To the new Frank Gehry building on Grand, across from my son’s music school. (Late in life, Gehry now seems to believe in design that prioritizes not postmodern showiness but plazas and shade and places for the passerby to sit.) But to get to the pedestrian-friendly world downtown involves several blocks of monolithic residential architecture along freeways, all by the same developer, inward-facing buildings with dark and empty storefronts, bunker parking, and sky bridges. The tenants of these places don’t have to ever step foot on the street. I’ve heard they are mostly USC students, but you don’t see them. The only people I might encounter are unhoused individuals, and those in this particular area often appear to be in severe mental crisis, as they linger beyond buildings that are as obdurate and closed as medieval armories.

Dubbed the Renaissance Collection, these buildings form a plaque that separates the people of Echo Park from downtown L.A. They were built by Geoffrey Palmer, a little man who resembles a ventriloquist’s dummy and is gifted at making enemies. Palmer buys up forlorn and odd plots alongside freeways, where he builds his “Italianate” developments, as Italian as leatherette is leather, but less charming. In 1973, the artist Gordon Matta-Clark purchased random little slices of land around New York City for a conceptual art project he titled Fake Estates. Perhaps the unsavory parcels that Palmer acquires would remain similarly conceptual were it not for the very real fake estates he builds on them. This is his own defense—that he’s building where no one else dares—but he seems to take almost libidinal satisfaction in perching rows of apartment balconies over the 110–101 freeway interchange. The off-white stucco exteriors of his buildings are coated with soot within days of completion. In 2003, he illegally bulldozed the last Victorian of Bunker Hill while building the Orsini, a few blocks from my house. Palmer is vehemently opposed to affordable housing and has spent tens of millions on lawsuits and ballot measures to ensure that he won’t have to build any. He recently settled a class-action suit over systematically keeping tenants’ security deposits. One of Trump’s biggest donors, he has bragged that his company hasn’t paid federal taxes in thirty years. In the fall of 2014, a fire was deliberately started in Palmer’s half-built and wood-framed Da Vinci, a block down from the Orsini. Flames shot higher than many buildings downtown, stretched a city block, melted freeway signs, and cracked one hundred and sixty windows in the iconic John Ferraro Building, headquarters of Water and Power. The consensus among architects, residents, and journalists was that almost anyone could have started the fire, given how many people hate Palmer. City commissioners joked, in a planning meeting, that they sure hoped everyone present had an alibi. The city sued Palmer for the reckless conditions that allowed the blaze to grow so large. The person who started it was caught and sentenced to prison. He supposedly did it for Michael Brown, to protest the police killings of unarmed black men. No one was hurt. The Da Vinci was promptly rebuilt.

“Why is Everything So Ugly?” wondered a recent editorial in n+1. The editors structured their thoughts on the subject around a Situationist-style dérive they take through New York City. They begin by pondering a new condominium tower limply called the Josh, which has been erected in place of a recently demolished hundred-year-old building. The Josh, they tell us, is made of plastic, concrete, and “an obscure wood-like substance”—materials that have been chosen not for quality and beauty but on the basis of global supply-chain availability, a cookie-cutter design review process, and a cost-saving preference for semi-skilled labor. The Josh is already looking shabby at five months old. When it rains, its façade gets “conspicuously . . . wet.” Their dérive continues past more than one Bank of America, alongside a vape shop, and into a theater, where a shitty franchise based on a TV show of a comic book is playing. After the movie, there’s a run-in with blindingly bright LED lights, resulting in a visit to urgent care.

Google reveals that the building the editors are calling the Josh is actually the Greenpoint—located, as you might guess, in Greenpoint, Brooklyn—but the Josh does more work to illustrate certain ideas than the real name might. I think I know eighteen Joshes. No offense to any of them; I too have a common name and would wager the Josh could have been called the Rachel in the blink of an eye. Still, the Josh has a certain sound when isolated as a branding mechanism, with its soft landing into sshh, whether put to service selling wine or machines for living. I chuckled about the Josh. It, or he, made me think of that guy Tom from MySpace, everyone’s first friend. I imagined Tom living at the Josh, enjoying an industrial salad at a particle-board table. But names are merely symptoms. They are not the cause of “the violence of the new ugliness” that the n+1 editors ponder. Branding arises from standardization. If the things that are made are more or less the same, difference itself must be manufactured.

The Situationists first began undertaking their dérives—which means to drift, to walk without a fixed plan—in response to a rail strike. Guy Debord and others tumbled drunkenly through the night, walking or hitchhiking, and found that the new routes they forged promised a change of orientation, a new outlook. In Debord’s autobiographical Panegyric, at a point in his life when he had lost hope in the city and headed for the hills, he regrets that a “flood of destruction, pollution, and falsification had conquered the whole surface of the planet, as well as pouring down nearly to its very depths.” (Had Debord, too, noticed how wet the Josh was looking?) Five years later he shot himself in the heart. It wasn’t just that everything was ugly and the revolution stalled, if not foreclosed. Alcohol had done him in.

I decided, on a recent afternoon, to conduct my own dérive, straight into the morass between my street and downtown. I left the house, took a right, another right, and then a left over the 101 freeway. If this overpass could talk, I thought. It might tell of the many women and the many nights of flinty bargains with men in cars. By daylight, it was empty. I turned left onto Temple Street, passing a hotel that abuts the 101, and a sun-blasted bus stop where my kid was let off in grade school, and from which he began conducting his own dérives. This block of Temple has a bakery, a liquor store, and until recently, D’Bongo Party Supplies, then falls into a post-human stretch: there is a tow yard, a recycling center, a cul de sac against the freeway where there was a tent encampment until it burned, and a huge and empty bus yard. That’s all on one side of the street. On the other is the massive retaining wall of a high school baseball diamond. The reason there is open land here, greenery, even if it’s chemically treated monograss beyond chain-link, is that this was an oil field, and it isn’t safe to put up buildings. (What look like lampposts around the field are actually vents that allow methane gases to escape.)

Beyond the baseball/methane field, I pass our own version of the Josh, but it’s called the Charlie. The Charlie is new. There used to be an auto repair and car wash here that was run by a family. Now there is a narrow eight-story building in “space gray” with a gaggle of red real estate balloons bobbing on the wind. I have driven past at night. The units are dark, while the Charlie’s eight-story “parking podium” glows meanly, prison-bright.

From the Charlie I cross the street toward a new Palmer monstrosity on a ten-acre site that used to be a Bank of America data center. Construction is not yet finished. The invasive palms that have been chosen as Palmer’s signature “lush Mediterranean landscaping” have just been trucked in and still have their fronds gathered into ponytails. Even with their fronds let down, they will provide no shade. There’s a giant piss-elegant fountain but it’s dry. now renting 2 months free + free parking, a big sign says. The name of this new addition to Palmer’s suite of Italianate freeway rentals is the Ferrante. Maybe the name came from his wife, a Parisian who seems a little more cultured than he is. Perhaps she’s a fan of Elena Ferrante’s books. I have no proof. I’m guessing.

We’ve been told for years now that Elena Ferrante is a fiction, a made-up name, like Tom, or the Josh. But someone is of course writing those books. Whoever they are, they’re talented, but the insistence on anonymity is starting to seem a little showy, even a bit tacky, if not as tacky as the Ferrante and its 1,150 units. I pass its blank row of street-level commercial spaces. Palmer won’t even try to rent them out. And apparently there’s no fine for leaving them empty. As an architect explained to me, he doesn’t build that income into his plans. Why should a developer care if there is street life? I turn left and walk under a highway overpass and approach the rangy back edge of our neighborhood CVS. What does CVS stand for? No one seems to know. Everything you might want to buy there is now locked up, and you have to press what feels like a panic button to get access to the shelves.

I cross through the parking lot, past a weird machine with a tower on it, flashing a blue light. This is some kind of automated security apparatus, but I’m not sure how it works. A barefoot boy asks me for a light. I don’t have one, I tell him.

Remember how outraged everyone was to discover that the author JT LeRoy, supposedly an ethereal rent boy/lot lizard, was actually a middle-aged woman? They acted like this was the ultimate con, something ugly and counterfeit masquerading as something genuine and tragic and hot. Meanwhile, Elena Ferrante is purporting to be a middle-aged woman. What if she’s a teen boy turning tricks in parking lots? I think, as I turn out of the lot and go right on Sunset.

I walk toward Palmer’s Orsini, which lines both sides of the street, all of its commercial space dark and empty and locked. There is no one here except one man in rags setting bits of trash on fire on the sidewalk. Is it Palmer’s fault that people are setting things on fire? It’s more complicated than that. But with no street activity, people act out. Or, their actions are starker, and less muted by a variety of people and vibrancies that a healthy street should reflect. At the end of this very long, sterile block is one other person, a young woman. Her arms are covered with injection scars. She seems not to notice me. She’s in a kind of Sisyphean struggle, attempting to push an e-scooter that is not activated, its wheels on lock.

The next day I drive back down this street, heading to pick up my son from music school. I spot the woman who tried to push the scooter. She’s still here, as if this bleak zone were her proving ground. Her shirt is off now, and she is throwing her half-clothed body against the brick exterior of the Orsini. But the building is constructed not to feel her, the street not to see her, and I barely see her myself, because my light is green.

While parts of the designed world might be ugly at any speed, it is only the slowness of traveling on foot that causes true discomfiture, by forcing a walker to behold, worry over, brood upon, those to whom this ugliness shouts loudest.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 8.21 (after 1900)

1901 – Six hundred American school teachers, Thomasites, arrived in Manila on the USAT Thomas. 1911 – The Mona Lisa is stolen by Vincenzo Peruggia, a Louvre employee. 1914 – World War I: The Battle of Charleroi, a successful German attack across the River Sambre that pre-empted a French offensive in the same area. 1918 – World War I: The Second Battle of the Somme begins. 1942 – World War II: The Guadalcanal Campaign: American forces defeat an attack by Imperial Japanese Army soldiers in the Battle of the Tenaru. 1944 – Dumbarton Oaks Conference, prelude to the United Nations, begins. 1944 – World War II: Canadian and Polish units capture the strategically important town of Falaise, Calvados, France. 1945 – Physicist Harry Daghlian is fatally irradiated in a criticality accident during an experiment with the Demon core at Los Alamos National Laboratory. 1957 – The Soviet Union successfully conducts a long-range test flight of the R-7 Semyorka, the first intercontinental ballistic missile. 1959 – United States President Dwight D. Eisenhower signs an executive order proclaiming Hawaii the 50th state of the union. Hawaii's admission is currently commemorated by Hawaii Admission Day. 1963 – Xá Lợi Pagoda raids: The Army of the Republic of Vietnam Special Forces loyal to Ngô Đình Nhu, brother of President Ngo Dinh Diem, vandalizes Buddhist pagodas across the country, arresting thousands and leaving an estimated hundreds dead. 1965 – The Socialist Republic of Romania is proclaimed, following the adoption of a new constitution. 1968 – Cold War: Nicolae Ceaușescu, leader of the Socialist Republic of Romania, publicly condemns the Soviet-led Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia, encouraging the Romanian population to arm itself against possible Soviet reprisals. 1968 – James Anderson Jr. posthumously receives the first Medal of Honor to be awarded to an African American U.S. Marine. 1971 – A bomb exploded in the Liberal Party campaign rally in Plaza Miranda, Manila, Philippines with several anti-Marcos political candidates injured. 1982 – Lebanese Civil War: The first troops of a multinational force lands in Beirut to oversee the Palestine Liberation Organization's withdrawal from Lebanon. 1983 – Philippine opposition leader Benigno Aquino Jr. is assassinated at Manila International Airport (now renamed Ninoy Aquino International Airport in his honor). 1986 – Carbon dioxide gas erupts from volcanic Lake Nyos in Cameroon, killing up to 1,800 people within a 20-kilometre (12 mi) range. 1988 – The 6.9 Mw  Nepal earthquake shakes the Nepal–India border with a maximum Mercalli intensity of VIII (Severe), leaving 709–1,450 people killed and thousands injured. 1991 – Latvia declares renewal of its full independence after its occupation by the Soviet Union since 1940. 1991 – Coup attempt against Mikhail Gorbachev collapses. 1993 – NASA loses contact with the Mars Observer spacecraft. 1994 – Royal Air Maroc Flight 630 crashes in Douar Izounine, Morocco, killing all 44 people on board. 1995 – Atlantic Southeast Airlines Flight 529, an Embraer EMB 120 Brasilia, attempts to divert to West Georgia Regional Airport after the left engine fails, but the aircraft crashes in Carroll County near Carrollton, Georgia, killing nine of the 29 people on board. 2000 – American golfer Tiger Woods wins the 82nd PGA Championship and becomes the first golfer since Ben Hogan in 1953 to win three majors in a calendar year. 2013 – Hundreds of people are reported killed by chemical attacks in the Ghouta region of Syria. 2017 – A solar eclipse traverses the continental United States.