#tinker sans ask

[ask-tinker-sans]

so what happened?

[aka-indulgence]

screaming dying throwing up, do you have any more dr sans and mr horruer... literally anything, i don't care, so long as it's MORE

That’s the kind of reaction I strive for :D Ogey, since you asked so nicely heheheue

CW: descriptive transformation?

—————

A large, creepy man walks through the dark streets of Shudrow, away from the yellow streetlamps. He stands in front of the closed window of a large manor, tinkering with the shutters. After a couple of clicks and creaks, the wooden window doors open.

He steps through, his height making it easy to enter without having to maneuver much- though with his height he needs to duck under the top of the window. He quickly shutters the window doors as soon as he enters.

no one to see.

Horruer sighs and reaches for his pocket, picking up the handkerchief that you dropped earlier. You were in such a hurry to get away from him… if he wasn’t frozen, he would’ve given it back to you.

… He brings it to his face and sniffs it.

smells like her.

After a moment of daydreaming, he puts the handkerchief back in his pocket, and gets to work. He puts down his beaker on his table and looks through his drawers…

where are my chemical salts?

He growls quietly. He brought it up to his work room last time, which is upstairs.

i need to be more careful next time. don’t need to be sneaking through houses…

He presses his skull to the door, taking care not to press the side of his exploded skull. When he hears nothing, he takes a peek.

… someone’s coming.

He closes the door, leaving a crack for him to look through, but small enough for it to be unnoticeable at night.

Faun walks through the corridor with a lamp, perhaps having a quick look around before retiring to his quarters. The red eye watches as the deer monster disappears into the living room. When he can’t hear his hooves anymore, Horruer opens the door and relocks the lab, quickly making his way to the stairs- no need to be quiet here, he just has to be quick.

The stairs bend heavily under him as he runs up the wooden stairs, every step a stomp until he arrives at the landing. Quickly, he slips into his work room.

He clunks the beaker on his desk, its strange contents sloshing. The chemical salts layed there, out in the open.

hrmp, need to be more careful next time, Horruer thinks, tapping the salts into his concoction.

He lifts it up to his lamp and swirls it until it looks just right. Then, he chugs it like a glass of spirits.

His sockets squeeze shut. It leaves a burning sensation down his throat- not unlike alcohol, and the tastes after weren’t pleasant. But the worst is yet to come.

He slams the beaker back on the table as he chokes, groans turning into yells as pain splits his skull and electrifies his every bones, from his ribcage to the edges of his phalanges. The gruesome sound of bones cracking fills his hearing as they twist and distort, shrinking, the hole in his skull fusing back together, leaving only miniscule fissure in its wake.

The screaming only stops once the transformation is over, the skeleton now a fraction of his previous size. He stabilizes himself on his desk, gripping it close to splinters. His hat falls on the ground. The skull that looks out isn’t Horruer’s.

Sans gasps, drool dripping down his chin, colors shifting in the liquid. He coughs and spits and swallows, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. His sleeves dangle under his hands, his pants now pooling on the ground; Horruer’s clothes were too big on him now. He looks almost like how he used to when he wore his father’s clothes when he was a younger skeleton.

The transformation was always the worst part. But the results were worth it.

As he regains his breath, he reaches for your handkerchief again. They were so small in Horruer’s hand before. Unfolded, it fit barely covers his palm. Now, it looked more like a proper handkerchief to him.

… His soul was racing when he turned and saw you, looking at him from below. You looked so… small. Everything looked small when he was Horruer, but… you looked more vulnerable like that. You looked so pretty. You looked scared of him. Everything in his mind went quiet- all he could see was you. He’d swallow his spit, fisting his hands, it took all the strength in him not to just lunge and grab you.

Thankfully for the both of you, you left before his restraint broke. He was so close, too.

Sans gulped, still panting.

“... that could’ve been dangerous,” he summarizes with alarm.

He has to make sure not to run into you, as Horruer. His inhibitions as Sans were close to naught when he was Horruer. He becomes more impulsive, volatile, unpredictable. He doesn’t know how he’d act if he saw you again. He knows he wants you but… he isn’t even sure what he would’ve done to you. And you’re too precious to risk it.

Sans sits heavily in his work chair and looks at your handkerchief once more.

“huff… i need… to give this back to her. maybe tomorrow.”

[inkykeiji]

character: hanemiya kazutora x fem!reader

notes: anon asked for more tora-nii so!!! here he is!!! this ended up being way longer than i intended!!! but enjoy hehe! this is set within the same universe as this piece but works well as a standalone piece and can totally be read on it's own as well!

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, stepcest/pseudocest (step siblings), rough sex, minimal prep, painful sex, both kazutora and reader are total virgins (unrealistic loss of virginity), dubcon/noncon, the tiniest hint of dacryphilia, cum eating/feeding, super messy kisses

words: 4k

synopsis:

And finally, finally, the stress of the past several years seeps from your pores and leaves you feeling light and floaty, no longer weighing you down now that he’s in your arms, now that he’s free, body gone boneless against him as it melts into his own, fusing, becoming one again, whole again. Your knees nearly give out, bones deliquesced in pure relief, but your big brother is right there to catch you, chuckling a little as he hoists you further up his body, leaning you against his chest and supporting most of your weight.  The tears are flowing steadily now, flooding  your cheeks in thick, ceaseless streams, whole body shuddering beneath the force of your sobs—a continuous torrent of Tora, Tora, Tora-nii weeped out in violent hiccups.  “M’here, m’here, shh, hush now,” he’s telling you as he cradles you to him, rocking your bodies slightly. “Nii-san’s here.”

It’s sunny, the day he’s finally released; a bright blue sky embroidered with thick puffs of cotton, sunbeams filtering through the clouds and bathing everything bright and gold.

You’re leaning against your car as you wait, idly swinging the keyring around your index finger in a nervous jitter, metal tinkering rhythmically. 

At long last he’s stepping through that big barred gate, so large it trembles beneath its own weight as it stutters to an open, steel creaking, halting with an ominous clank! as it catches on the latch, echoes mingling with an obnoxious, nasally beep. 

It takes him a moment to find your face, gaze sweeping across the unfamiliar location, with wide, unsure eyes, a hint of a frown toying with the corners of his lips. 

But then he spots you, and love splits his face wide open, a brilliant smile stretched across his cheeks so wide it must hurt—automatic, instinctual, uncontrollable—topaz irises glittering in the sunshine.

And you swear, you’ll never tire of the way his whole face brightens when he’s in your presence. 

Your breath stagnates in your lungs, and for a second everything is still, the moment pregnant with anticipation, your heart mutilating itself against your ribs as it tries to crawl through the gaps.

But then he’s taking off, rubber soles of his sneakers slapping against the warped concrete, barreling into your body a mere instant later, so hard he crushes you between your car and his chest.  

It shoves a yelp from your throat, sharp and high, and he only squeezes you harder, fingers digging into your skin as his hands fist in the material of your dress, bunching it up in his palms and tugging. 

The hem rides several inches up your thighs, his hips keeping your legs spread, your own arms wound tightly around his shoulders, clinging to him and burying your face in his neck, forehead pressed firmly to the tiger inked into his skin. 

And finally, finally, the stress of the past several years seeps from your pores and leaves you feeling light and floaty, no longer weighing you down now that he’s in your arms, now that he’s free, body gone boneless against him as it melts into his own, fusing, becoming one again, whole again.

Your knees nearly give out, bones deliquesced in pure relief, but your big brother is right there to catch you, chuckling a little as he hoists you further up his body, leaning you against his chest and supporting most of your weight. 

The tears are flowing steadily now, flooding  your cheeks in thick, ceaseless streams, whole body shuddering beneath the force of your sobs—a continuous torrent of Tora, Tora, Tora-nii weeped out in violent hiccups. 

“M’here, m’here, shh, hush now,” he’s telling you as he cradles you to him, rocking your bodies slightly. “Nii-san’s here.”

And although you can hear the tears in his voice, you can feel his cock, half hard and pressed tightly to your hip, throbbing keenly as his honorific spills from your lips. 

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, punctuating his demand with a smattering of kisses, planted in your hair. 

Pulling back, you gaze up at him with a soft sound of inquiry. He bows his head, pushing his forehead against your own, noses nudging together. 

Eyes fluttering shut, his ribs expand into your own as he inhales you—your scent, your breath, your very aura itself—gulps you down and holds you in his lungs, lets you permeate his tissues and fester at his core before he’s surging forward, smashing his lips to yours, tongue breaking past your teeth and shoving the breath back down your throat, now infused with him. 

Shock leaves you stupid for a second before your body begins to respond—automatic, instinctual—delicate fingers slipping in the tufts of onyx curling up at the nape of his neck and twirling, wrapping the strands around your knuckles.

Your hands slide further, burying themselves in his hair, palms flattening against the back of his skull and pressing him close, closer, tongue greedily grinding against his own.

And it’s so sick, it’s so messy, mouths slick and sliding with each other’s drool as twin streams of tears cascade down your cheeks to pool in the seams of your lips, seeping through the cracks and staining your tongues with each other’s salt. 

It’s so sick, but it’s so good, too, hands pawing and gripping and tugging, the back of your heel arching around his lower calf, because too close is never close enough. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans into your mouth, the sound hot and heavy on your tongue, his hips twitching forward, gyrating in uneven little circles. 

Rough palms, decorated with cuts and callouses, are slinking up your soft thighs while your lips work, kneading flesh as they crawl beneath your dress, up, up, up until they reach your panties—lace, he can tell, fingertips tracing the trim with surprising delicacy, almost as if he’s committing the webbed pattern to memory, feeling every curve and crisscross of the knit. 

His fingertips tiptoe around your body, outlining the hem over your hips, following it all the way back to your ass where they slip beneath the thin fabric and grab, filling his palms with your flesh, nails biting superficial crescents into your bum.

He holds you there, holds you still, pulls you closer to him and forces you to stay stationary as his hips continue rocking, messily humping away at you. He’s panting out loud noises into your mouth in time with the movement of his hips, fragmented by his own breath, mewls that keep smothering your protests as they consume them. 

The straining head of his cock bumps against your inner thigh, the coarse material of his pants beginning to chafe your sensitive skin, and he sucks a hiss from your throat, swallows it down greedily and laps at your molars, slathering them in his foamy spit, hunting for more. 

It already feels so good, a dull heat beginning to amass deep in the pit of your belly—something that seeps through the floor of your stomach to the apex of your thighs, something that sends sparks and cinders racing through your veins, leaving your blood fizzing in their wake.

But as badly as you want him right here, right now, you know you can’t, the scrutinizing eyes of his discharging prison guard, still standing watch at the mouth of the massive gate, searing into your skin. 

“Tora-nii, Tora-nii,” you’re whimpering, and he groans, a deep sound reverberating within his ribcage. 

“I know, baby, I know,” And he sounds almost pained, voice hoarse and cracking, hands squeezing your flesh again. “I need you, too.” 

“N-Not here,” you mumble against his lips, the words drooping with reluctance.

A sound of annoyance vibrates in his throat, and he shakes his head, pulling back just enough to search your eyes, topaz frantic as it flies across your face. 

“I dunno how long I can wait,” he tells you seriously in a low whisper, confession straining beneath urgency, hips still rolling into yours. 

“But—But—Ah—”  

“Fuck,” he moans brokenly, curse shattered to shards in his throat, splintered and pitchy. 

“You—You just got released,” you force the words from your tongue, airy as he licks up the column of your neck, front teeth nipping at your skin. “Let’s not get arrested for public indecency on the same day.”

Another groan rumbles in his chest, this time borne of frustration, and he scrapes together his remaining scraps of self-restraint, stilling his hips. 

He has to admit, you have a point.

He hates that you have a point.

Because he genuinely does not know how he’s supposed to survive a twenty-five minute long car ride back to your sweet little apartment. 

He almost doesn’t, unable to keep his hands to himself, fingers wandering across your thighs, beneath your dress, hiking the hem up and revealing your panties to him. 

They’re cute, he moans, his cock still so hard it’s nearly painful as it throbs and yearns, leaking so much precum that it’s bled through his briefs and his trousers to leave a large, wet patch.

Ever-stubborn and lacking any sort of discipline, his palm wedges its way between your thighs, curious fingers stroking your slit, watching as the silk of those pretty panties dampens, darkens, becomes slick and slippery with your own arousal—the arousal he is causing, creating—eyes glittering with awe, breath exhaled through parted lips in little huffs. 

His other palm is busy grinding into his aching cock, his hips rutting up pathetically in his seat, the belt cutting into his flesh through his thin dress shirt. It’s nothing more than teasing, but it doesn’t matter, he can’t help it, he’ll take whatever he can get—whatever he can do to alleviate the scalding pressure building in his gut.

“Tora-nii,” you’re complaining in a sticky squeal when he finally tries to prod your hole, face scrunched up somewhere between aroused and annoyed. “Stop it!”

“Doesn’t feel like y’want me to stop,” he pants out, unable to tear his eyes from the apex of your thighs, groaning as your swollen little clit pulses against his thumb. “You—Y’fucking soaked, sweetheart.”

“Well I—I do—I don’t want to—Nii-san, please!” 

“Yeah, yeah, baby,” he mewls, nodding vigorously, eyes swapping almost frenetically between your clothed cunt, now perfectly outlined by the silk molded to your folds, and your face. 

“I don’t wanna lose my virginity on the side of the road!” you manage to squeak out in a single breath, shooting him the cutest little look of anger, brows pushed together so tightly it crinkles your forehead.

Alright, alright, he supposes that’s fair, though he’s still unable to keep his hands to himself—that’s asking a little too much, don’t you think? He’s been waiting five and a half years for this. 

He stops trying to fuck you, but just barely, making it an entire task to walk up the two short flights of stairs to reach your apartment, latching onto you like a leech as he stains blotches of grey and navy across your jaw, along your neck, over your collarbone.

It’s an insatiability, fingers griping and vying as they yank and knead, the hem of your dress pooling around his wrists as his palms slide up your thighs, fill his grasp with fistfuls of you as fingertips sink into plush flesh, digging bruises deep into the tissues and dimpling the skin. His hips rock against your ass in irresolute little motions, as if they’re unsure of how fast they want to thrust. 

“Tora,” your giggling as you fumble with your keys, faint notes of irritation negated by fondness. “I won’t be able to get the door open if you don’t quit it!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he’s mumbling noncommittally, dragging his tongue along the curve of your neck, then over the ridges of your shoulder, outfitting you in his spit. 

“You—You don’t sound sorry,” you huff, but there’s a smile on your face. 

“Can’t help it,” he whinges, nearly tripping over your ankles as the door finally swings open, the two of you stumbling into your apartment. 

He’s got you trapped between his body and the drywall before the door even clicks shut, a thigh wedged between your legs as he grinds his cock against your hip, a continuous stream of whines pouring from his throat into yours.

They vibrate as they spill onto your tongue, warm and buzzing, and you lick at his teeth, giggling a little at the way his hips jerk in response. 

“I—I—I—” he’s moaning into your mouth, needy and high, his hands already up your skirt again, index fingers dipping beneath the frilly waistband of your panties and curling. “I can’t, I can’t, I’m gonna—fu-fuck—”

His words disintegrate as those keen little noises eat straight through them, hands almost vicious as they tear through dainty lace, threads and elastics snapping audibly as they tangle around his knuckles. 

The material flutters to the floor in a ruined heap of delicacy, both palms already shoved between your thighs as they poke and prod, hungry and hunting.

“T-Tora, no, wait—” you’re breathing out as his fingers clumsily find your hole. 

He cuts you off with a ferocious growl, two calloused fingertips pressing into your cunt while the heel of his free palm shoves urgently at the waistband of his pants, managing to push them down his thighs just enough to yank his cock free. 

And then he’s tearing you open in one quick, harsh thrust, forcing a sharp yelp from your chest as he buries himself in your cunt. 

There isn’t a single moment to get used to the sudden intrusion, cute little hole struggling to take his girth as your skin splits into tiny fissures, fluttering and stretched raw. It fucking stings, sending spears of pain searing through your gut as the head of his cock rams against your cervix, impatient and immediate. 

It hurts the entire time, but it’s over pathetically, embarrassingly quickly; only three swift, sharp snaps of his hips before they’re stuttering to a stop with a loud, broken whine, cock throbbing as he fills you with copious amounts of cum—so much cum, too much cum, thick and viscous as it seeps past his cock to drool down your inner thighs and pool in the folds of his balls.

But he doesn’t seem to care that he finishes so briefly; it doesn’t seem to matter to him at all as he drops to his knees and spreads your thighs, plush flesh dipping beneath his grip as he forces them to stay open, joints flexing in a silent warning not to squirm and tongue flattening against your skin as he drags it up, up, up, sopping up a syrupy dribble of cum.  

His face is buried in your cunt a mere moment later, groaning a little as his tongue pushes past your abused little hole still weeping little slivers of crimson, copper mixing with the bitter of his seed and creating something sick, something intoxicating, something entirely addictive. 

And it’s all so vicious, it’s all so voracious, the way he eats his cum from your cunt as if he’s a starved man, as if he can’t get enough of you, can’t get enough of him within you, tip of his tongue curling, scooping, cupping as he devours you, sucks you clean, obnoxious slurping and smacking echoing throughout your apartment. 

He swipes over every dip and crevice, lapping hard and thorough as he collects the substance from your folds hole and beings to hoard it beneath his tongue.

Your nails scrape against his scalp as your knuckles root in inky tufts, and he whines loudly, shoves his face further into your pussy and eats you with such vigour it’s a marvel he can breathe at all.

“Tora-nii, Tora-nii,” you’re chanting out, the name airy on your tongue, responding grunts reverberating against your clit as he grinds his nose against it. 

He doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left, until he can no longer taste your blood or his cum, the pungent concoction stored safely within his cheeks. 

He looks like a fucking mess, lips and chin gleaming with slick and cum and blood—a shimmery, translucent pink varnishing the lower half of his face—but there’s a wide, toothless smile smeared across his cheeks, those topaz eyes so bright they’re nearly glowing, brimming with exhilaration and love.

Then he’s on his feet, a large hand wreathed around your jaw as he squeezes the hinges and pops your mouth open, tongue unfurling onto your own and shoving a mix of blood and spit and cum down your throat. 

It’s fucking filthy, thick threads of cum tangled with his saliva pouring from the corners of your lips while they slip and slide against one another, leaving shining streaks of pearlescent drool, tinged pink with blood, slathered across your jaws. It drips off your chin in slow, sticky drops, drizzling cool and slimy across your bosom. 

God, it’s all so much—you cum so much, Tora-nii!—his diligent tongue sweeping your mouth as he deposits the intoxicating mixture, laving over your teeth and dipping into your cheeks, staining your whole mouth with him. 

And he doesn’t let up, doesn’t let you jerk away or move a single centimeter until he’s emptied his mouth into your own, until you’ve sucked his tongue fucking clean with tight, puckered lips, until you’ve scraped all the contents from the muscle with your teeth and swallowed every last remnant, notes of salt and copper lingering on your tastebuds. 

Impossibly, he’s already hard again, the head of his cock bluntly bumping against your hole, awkward and uncoordinated as he pants out pleads into your mouth. 

“Please, please,” he’s whining hotly onto your tongue. “Please, let me fuck you again, I gotta—I’m gonna—I gotta—”

Sharp little keens keep shattering his sentences, his eyes closing tightly as his whole face scrunches in concentration, desperately attempting to quell the crude twitching of his hips.

“Pr-Promise I’ll fuck you properly this time,” he hurls the vow into your mouth, quick and sloppy. “Promise I’ll—I’ll make you cum this time, swear I will, baby, just let me fuck you again!” 

Yes, yes, you’re nodding against him, teeth clacking and lips catching on incisors. Yes, please, nii-san. 

The two of you barely make it to your bedroom, tripping over each others limbs as you stumble toward the bed and fall onto the mattress in a knotted heap, the balls of your feet shoving at the waistband of his pants, helping him kick them the rest of the way off. 

It’s nasty and primal and so fucking intimate, with your knees hooked over his shoulders and ankles linked behind his neck, thighs sandwiched between your chests and foreheads pressed firmly to one another. The tips of your noses nudge as he pounds into you, ruthless and relentless in his pursuit, hard enough to jostle your body up the mattress, hard enough to have the whole bed frame shuddering, brass headboard knocking against the wall.

“Like that, Tora-nii, like that,” you’re breathing, hips rolling up into his, clit catching on his slick pubic bone.  

“Y-Yeah?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you gasp out, eyes shut tightly, feet curling around the back of his neck, a pitiful attempt to pull him closer. 

“S’good?”

“S’good, s’good, it’s so good,” you’re nodding against him, front teeth chipping his. “Your cock feels so good, Tora-nii!”

A groan rattles his ribs and his hips drive forward harder, rougher, faster, spurred on by your praise, desperate to prove to you that he can make you cum, desperate to make good on his promise. 

Because you’re getting close now, he thinks he can tell. He thinks he can see it in the way your eyes keep fluttering shut with each swipe of his pelvis over your clit, with each drag of his cockhead against your cervix; thinks he can hear it in the way you can barely push that cherished nickname from your lips, the sweetest little huffs of Tor-Tor-Tora-nii! breaking on your tongue; thinks he can feel it in the way your thighs keep tightening, body going rigid as your hands grasp and claw, nails gorging themselves on his muscle, yearning for as much of him as physically possible. 

“G-Gonna—hah, fuck—gonna cum for your nii-san, sweetheart?” 

The question wafts across your face, strings of drool swaying with each of his panted breaths, splattering across your cheeks and cooling instantly. 

“Uh—Uh-huh, nii—nii-san,” you mewl out, stammered by the slamming of his hips.

“Look at me, please,” he begs, voice high and broken. “Wanna—Want you to look at me when you cum, look at your big brother.” 

And you do, because you’re such a good little sister, eyes springing open, lashes weighted with teardrops. 

His own eyes are wet, too, long lashes clumped together in thick little spikes, glittering drops balancing perilously on the points.  

Three more pistons of his hips and your cunt is clenching around him with such vigour it’s almost painful, whole body bowing off the bed as sparks zip up your spine, curving each vertebra as they pass.

Slick gushes down his shaft, and it’s so much, it's so messy, coating his thighs in thick, shimmering smears, slippery and sticky and so Goddamn sick as they smack against your ass, the constant slap of skin against skin sharp as it echoes throughout your bedroom. 

It’s so intense it whites your vision and wipes your mind, wailing out his honorific like it’s a fucking prayer, over and over and over again.

And Christ, Kazutora swears you’ve never looked or sounded more beautiful than you do cumming all over your big brother’s cock. 

It has a loud whine spilling from his throat, topaz eyes wide and fluttering rapidly, desperate to clear the bleary shield of tears lacquering his vision, to burn every little micro-expression that transforms your pretty features into the tissues of his brain, forever. 

Because it’s all because of him.

The thought has his hips faltering, falling out of their rhythmic pace and bucking wildly as they chase whatever high you’re currently riding, avid to reach it with you. 

“Oh God, oh God, oh fuck,” he’s whimpering out, eyes shutting tightly before snapping open again. “I—I—Am I—Does it—Ah—”

“L-Love your cock, Tora-nii,” you’re slurring out beneath him, sloppy and stuffed with spit, gone stupid with pleasure. 

And it’s incredible, honestly, how you always know exactly what he needs, still, even now, even after so many years apart. 

“Again,” he rasps, thrusts turned dishevelled and careless. “Tell me again.”

“Love your cock so much, Tora-nii-san,” you keen, gazing up at him with fucked-out bliss all over your face, glazed eyes full of sick admiration. “Want your cock t’fill me up.”

“W-With what? Huh? Tell nii-san what you want him to f-fill your pretty little pussy up with.”

“Cum, cum, Tora-nii’s cum!” you sob, nails biting into the muscle of his shoulders as another ripple of overstimulation courses through your flesh. “Want Tora-nii-san to stuff my pussy full of his cum! S’much, s’much—!” 

“Oh, Jesus,” he nearly cries, voice cracking with the curse. “I—I’m gonna—Ah, fuck, fu-fuck!”

“Please, please, please, Tora-nii-san,” you’re still babbling on, half-delirious for his seed. “Please, gimme your cum, please, want your cum, Nii-san, please!” 

And it’s the pleading that does it, so fucking sordid, so fucking sincere, tears of disgust and desire decorating your cheeks in shimmering streams, that has his whole body shuddering with a loud, broken moan of your name, his cock pulsing viciously and pumping your cunt full of hot, thick cum. 

“Oh, thank you, Nii-san,” you’re weeping, weakly scrabbling at his shoulder blades. “Thank you, thank you.” 

You always were such a polite girl. Kazutora’s glad to see that nothing’s changed.

“So good, so good, y’such a good little sister for me,” the praises leak from his lips, languid and lazy as he collapses on top of you, dragging half-baked kisses across your jaw. 

His chest is heaving against yours, dress shirt turned translucent with sweat as it clings to his swelling ribs, outlining every bump and ridge. Your fingertips traverse across them, soft and gentle, almost as if you’re counting each rib, almost as if you’re making sure they’re all still there. 

“M’so happy you’re home,” you drool out against his skin, nuzzling into his neck a little as your arms wrap around him.

Yeah, he thinks as he squeezes you to his form. It’s good to be home. 

[sogthewoz]

Tinker Reference Sheet

He's my little fella and I was yet to give him a proper full body,, shameless promo to visit @ask-tinker-sans if your curious

[tklpilled]

ship in a bottle

with all the time idia spends on his computer, it should come as no surprise that he has plenty of things on there that he’d…rather not be shared. he has folders of (totally legally) downloaded animes, his collection both impressive and highly embarrassing. he even has them nicely organised, into categories like “super underrated, binge when sad. or when happy”, and “terrible ending, can’t have shit in twisted wonderland”. he’s had to tinker with the storage a few times to make it all fit while still running smoothly.

then, of course, his games, dating sims and gachas and horror on occasion. he’s played just about every game anyone’s ever heard of, and then some.

even so, all of that isn’t even close to the worst on there. plenty of people watch anime and play those types of games, after all, and the fact that he likes them isn’t any kind of secret. he doesn’t have anything bad on there, exactly, just things that he’d rather die a slow and agonising death than let anyone else see.

like that one thing—

“idia-san.” azul’s voice breaks him from his trance. idia snaps his head up, blinking a couple times. the board sits on the table, displaying a half-finished word game. “it’s your turn.”

“o-oh, yeah.” idia scans the board in search of azul’s most recent play. he has some odd letters, but he’ll probably be able to make it work—

he freezes.

of course that’s the word azul put down.

he stares at it for a moment too long, hoping that maybe he’d misread it, but the letters don’t change. six of the tiles, in a neat row. does azul know? no, he can’t. it’s just a coincidence. it has to be.

azul speaks up. “idia-san?” he asks again, tilting his head, expression laced with concern. “are you alright? you seem rather flushed.”

“fine!” idia chokes out, squeakier than he’d like. he grabs some letters from his tile rack, spelling out jukebox using previously placed u and o tiles. he doesn’t think azul believes him; hell, not a person in the world would believe such a blatant lie. still, the topic is dropped and the game continues.

—

“you should tell him, nii-san!” ortho encourages, bouncing on his feet. “you want to, so go for it!”

idia buries his face in his arms, his normally freezing cold room feeling way warmer than usual. “i can't! there's no way he'll ever think i'm cool!”

he regrets even telling ortho about his problem. he should have seen this coming. doesn't ortho get it? azul is basically idia's only friend. sevens, he'd rather confess his stupid crush on azul over this, and he can’t begin to express how badly he doesn’t want to do that. literally anything but this.

“azul ashengrotto-san isn’t the type of person to judge his friends,” says ortho. “plus, his affection levels towards you are higher than usual.”

“th-that’s the problem!” idia squeaks. “being friends with him is already, like, a secret route! if he finds out, it's totally game over for me!”

azul is nice enough, but idia is still nothing short of terrified of what his reaction would be. maybe he'd distance himself, stop coming to club meetings or quit entirely. avoid idia at every chance. tell the whole school what a fucking weirdo the ignihyde housewarden is.

(and yet at the same time, idia can't stop imagining, fantasising about the other possibility. that azul would just laugh, reassure him in his own azul-like way, move closer and closer until his hands are on idia's waist, nimble fingers instantly drawn to all of his most sensitive spots. the mere idea, however unrealistic, fills his stomach with butterflies. he can't think about it too long before he feels likes he's about to explode.)

ortho sighs. “it’s worth considering, at least.”

idia mumbles into his sleeves, “yeah, whatever.”

he’s not going to consider it for a second.

—

idia can't get the conversation out of his head. he can't really tell azul about it, can he? no. no way. out of the question, one hundred percent. possible reaction aside, there’s no way idia would even be able to say it.

azul clears his throat and idia snaps his head up.

“apologies,” he says, straightening his glasses. “there was a bit of a tickle in my throat, you see.”

great. of course that’s the phrasing he uses. idia nods, trying his best to act casual, even though the word makes him so panicky and now he can’t stop thinking about it. the way azul says it, how easily it falls from his mouth. he’s obsessed. he hates it.

there's silence in the empty room as azul moves his piece a few spaces. then, as idia is trying to figure out his next move, azul speaks.

“you're blushing again.”

huh?! well, his face does feel rather warm. his eyes widen and he stammers, pulling his hood over his head to hide the pastel pink tips of his hair. ugh. humiliating.

“um, s-sorry. it’s my turn, right—?”

“tell me,” interrupts azul, tilting his head. idia glances over at him, but doesn’t quite look up. “why do you get so flustered when i mention tickling?”

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck.

it’s idia’s own fault, really. he’s the idiot for thinking azul hadn’t noticed. he was just so desperate, hoping that his most well-guarded secret would stay a secret—from the boy he likes, especially. he must have gotten careless at some point.

he realises azul is still watching him. idia coughs weakly, looking anywhere else. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about! it’s def just some sort of bug, i’m totally fine…!” he’s talking too fast, too high pitched. it’s not a believable excuse at all.

there’s something dancing in azul's eyes; amusement? excitement? “is that so? then, please,” he gestures towards idia, “explain why your face has gone so red.”

“eh?!” idia hides his face with his hands, peeking out between his fingers after a moment. “j-just…drop it, please…”

and, to his disappointment, azul listens.

—

at least, in a way. he doesn’t mention it outright, but every interaction with him from then on is a constant reminder to idia that he knows (some of it, at least), and he’s not above using it against him.

azul begins to bring up the word as casually but as often as he can, and sevens, why are there so many damn phrases that use it? he jabs idia’s side when he spaces out, squeezes his knee under the table, pinches at his waist when he walks past. each touch is brief, and it only leaves idia craving more.

he can’t take it.

“stop teasing me!” he gets the courage to blurt out over a game of chess one day. he can already feel the warmth creeping under his skin.

azul stares for a moment, and in that instant idia has a sudden feeling of impending doom.

and then azul laughs.

he doubles over, pushing the board away from him as he holds a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. he laughs like idia’s just told him some sort of joke, and idia wants to be annoyed by it, but the sight is just too cute. screw his stupid feelings.

when azul is done laughing, he looks back up at idia. “i'm surprised,” he admits. “i didn't think you'd say anything this soon.”

idia crosses his arms, glaring. his face could easily be on fire and he wouldn't know the difference. he can't say anything. he doesn't know what to say.

azul straightens the frames of his glasses, still smiling. “so, idia-san,” he starts, “what do you want?”

he must be dreaming. idia feels like he’s going to throw up, in some sort of excited way. is this not what he’s been wanting? what he’s been thinking about for ages?

this can't be real.

it takes a while to find his voice. “please,” he whispers. “i want you to t-tickle me.”

and azul…

…stays silent.

idia’s words linger in the air, neither of them moving an inch. idia stares a hole into the table, his hands trembling as he clenches them.

azul isn’t saying anything. he’s not doing anything. shit, he’s never going to want to talk to idia again, he thinks idia is some sort of freak—

idia stands up suddenly, preparing to run, but azul’s hand grabs his wrist before he can move. idia, finally, locks eyes with him.

“okay,” azul says, smiling so genuinely in a way idia has never seen before. “i'll tickle you.”

and idia stops thinking altogether.

azul guides him to the ground, lays him on the floor of the classroom and hovers over him, practically straddling him. their position in the end would surely give anyone who walked in the wrong idea; but then again, maybe that assumption wouldn't be too far off.

“okay?” azul asks once they're settled, tilting his head. he's waiting for idia's go-ahead—as if he would say no.

idia can't find the words in him, so he merely nods.

he flinches almost violently when azul's fingers meet his stomach, both because his hands are cold and he knows what's coming. he gasps in a breath of air, but it doesn't matter. the moment nails begin to drag across his skin, he falls apart. he couldn't keep from laughing if he tried.

“az-azuhul-shi! wait, plehease, please…!” he doesn't even know what he's begging for. he doesn't want it to stop, but he doesn't think he could handle any more.

azul giggles, a light sound that barely carries over the sound of idia's desperation. “please? is this not what you've been waiting for? make up your mind.”

idia can't remember ever laughing this hard. he doesn't even remember the last time he was properly tickled, if it ever happened at all. he didn't know his body could even be this sensitive; it's overwhelming, any attempt at a coherent thought being instantly washed away.

yet at the same time, it's euphoric. he can't deny that he loves this, even as azul manages to find the spots that make him practically scream. it's such a relief that all the classrooms are soundproofed.

“please,” he begs, “dohon’t stohohop!”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Open" "AI" isn’t

Tomorrow (19 Aug), I'm appearing at the San Diego Union-Tribune Festival of Books. I'm on a 2:30PM panel called "Return From Retirement," followed by a signing:

https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/festivalofbooks

The crybabies who freak out about The Communist Manifesto appearing on university curriculum clearly never read it – chapter one is basically a long hymn to capitalism's flexibility and inventiveness, its ability to change form and adapt itself to everything the world throws at it and come out on top:

https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1848/communist-manifesto/ch01.htm#007

Today, leftists signal this protean capacity of capital with the -washing suffix: greenwashing, genderwashing, queerwashing, wokewashing – all the ways capital cloaks itself in liberatory, progressive values, while still serving as a force for extraction, exploitation, and political corruption.

A smart capitalist is someone who, sensing the outrage at a world run by 150 old white guys in boardrooms, proposes replacing half of them with women, queers, and people of color. This is a superficial maneuver, sure, but it's an incredibly effective one.

In "Open (For Business): Big Tech, Concentrated Power, and the Political Economy of Open AI," a new working paper, Meredith Whittaker, David Gray Widder and Sarah B Myers document a new kind of -washing: openwashing:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4543807

Openwashing is the trick that large "AI" companies use to evade regulation and neutralizing critics, by casting themselves as forces of ethical capitalism, committed to the virtue of openness. No one should be surprised to learn that the products of the "open" wing of an industry whose products are neither "artificial," nor "intelligent," are also not "open." Every word AI huxters say is a lie; including "and," and "the."

So what work does the "open" in "open AI" do? "Open" here is supposed to invoke the "open" in "open source," a movement that emphasizes a software development methodology that promotes code transparency, reusability and extensibility, which are three important virtues.

But "open source" itself is an offshoot of a more foundational movement, the Free Software movement, whose goal is to promote freedom, and whose method is openness. The point of software freedom was technological self-determination, the right of technology users to decide not just what their technology does, but who it does it to and who it does it for:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

The open source split from free software was ostensibly driven by the need to reassure investors and businesspeople so they would join the movement. The "free" in free software is (deliberately) ambiguous, a bit of wordplay that sometimes misleads people into thinking it means "Free as in Beer" when really it means "Free as in Speech" (in Romance languages, these distinctions are captured by translating "free" as "libre" rather than "gratis").

The idea behind open source was to rebrand free software in a less ambiguous – and more instrumental – package that stressed cost-savings and software quality, as well as "ecosystem benefits" from a co-operative form of development that recruited tinkerers, independents, and rivals to contribute to a robust infrastructural commons.

But "open" doesn't merely resolve the linguistic ambiguity of libre vs gratis – it does so by removing the "liberty" from "libre," the "freedom" from "free." "Open" changes the pole-star that movement participants follow as they set their course. Rather than asking "Which course of action makes us more free?" they ask, "Which course of action makes our software better?"

Thus, by dribs and drabs, the freedom leeches out of openness. Today's tech giants have mobilized "open" to create a two-tier system: the largest tech firms enjoy broad freedom themselves – they alone get to decide how their software stack is configured. But for all of us who rely on that (increasingly unavoidable) software stack, all we have is "open": the ability to peer inside that software and see how it works, and perhaps suggest improvements to it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBknF2yUZZ8

In the Big Tech internet, it's freedom for them, openness for us. "Openness" – transparency, reusability and extensibility – is valuable, but it shouldn't be mistaken for technological self-determination. As the tech sector becomes ever-more concentrated, the limits of openness become more apparent.

But even by those standards, the openness of "open AI" is thin gruel indeed (that goes triple for the company that calls itself "OpenAI," which is a particularly egregious openwasher).

The paper's authors start by suggesting that the "open" in "open AI" is meant to imply that an "open AI" can be scratch-built by competitors (or even hobbyists), but that this isn't true. Not only is the material that "open AI" companies publish insufficient for reproducing their products, even if those gaps were plugged, the resource burden required to do so is so intense that only the largest companies could do so.

Beyond this, the "open" parts of "open AI" are insufficient for achieving the other claimed benefits of "open AI": they don't promote auditing, or safety, or competition. Indeed, they often cut against these goals.

"Open AI" is a wordgame that exploits the malleability of "open," but also the ambiguity of the term "AI": "a grab bag of approaches, not… a technical term of art, but more … marketing and a signifier of aspirations." Hitching this vague term to "open" creates all kinds of bait-and-switch opportunities.

That's how you get Meta claiming that LLaMa2 is "open source," despite being licensed in a way that is absolutely incompatible with any widely accepted definition of the term:

https://blog.opensource.org/metas-llama-2-license-is-not-open-source/

LLaMa-2 is a particularly egregious openwashing example, but there are plenty of other ways that "open" is misleadingly applied to AI: sometimes it means you can see the source code, sometimes that you can see the training data, and sometimes that you can tune a model, all to different degrees, alone and in combination.

But even the most "open" systems can't be independently replicated, due to raw computing requirements. This isn't the fault of the AI industry – the computational intensity is a fact, not a choice – but when the AI industry claims that "open" will "democratize" AI, they are hiding the ball. People who hear these "democratization" claims (especially policymakers) are thinking about entrepreneurial kids in garages, but unless these kids have access to multi-billion-dollar data centers, they can't be "disruptors" who topple tech giants with cool new ideas. At best, they can hope to pay rent to those giants for access to their compute grids, in order to create products and services at the margin that rely on existing products, rather than displacing them.

The "open" story, with its claims of democratization, is an especially important one in the context of regulation. In Europe, where a variety of AI regulations have been proposed, the AI industry has co-opted the open source movement's hard-won narrative battles about the harms of ill-considered regulation.

For open source (and free software) advocates, many tech regulations aimed at taming large, abusive companies – such as requirements to surveil and control users to extinguish toxic behavior – wreak collateral damage on the free, open, user-centric systems that we see as superior alternatives to Big Tech. This leads to the paradoxical effect of passing regulation to "punish" Big Tech that end up simply shaving an infinitesimal percentage off the giants' profits, while destroying the small co-ops, nonprofits and startups before they can grow to be a viable alternative.

The years-long fight to get regulators to understand this risk has been waged by principled actors working for subsistence nonprofit wages or for free, and now the AI industry is capitalizing on lawmakers' hard-won consideration for collateral damage by claiming to be "open AI" and thus vulnerable to overbroad regulation.

But the "open" projects that lawmakers have been coached to value are precious because they deliver a level playing field, competition, innovation and democratization – all things that "open AI" fails to deliver. The regulations the AI industry is fighting also don't necessarily implicate the speech implications that are core to protecting free software:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2015/04/remembering-case-established-code-speech

Just think about LLaMa-2. You can download it for free, along with the model weights it relies on – but not detailed specs for the data that was used in its training. And the source-code is licensed under a homebrewed license cooked up by Meta's lawyers, a license that only glancingly resembles anything from the Open Source Definition:

https://opensource.org/osd/

Core to Big Tech companies' "open AI" offerings are tools, like Meta's PyTorch and Google's TensorFlow. These tools are indeed "open source," licensed under real OSS terms. But they are designed and maintained by the companies that sponsor them, and optimize for the proprietary back-ends each company offers in its own cloud. When programmers train themselves to develop in these environments, they are gaining expertise in adding value to a monopolist's ecosystem, locking themselves in with their own expertise. This a classic example of software freedom for tech giants and open source for the rest of us.

One way to understand how "open" can produce a lock-in that "free" might prevent is to think of Android: Android is an open platform in the sense that its sourcecode is freely licensed, but the existence of Android doesn't make it any easier to challenge the mobile OS duopoly with a new mobile OS; nor does it make it easier to switch from Android to iOS and vice versa.

Another example: MongoDB, a free/open database tool that was adopted by Amazon, which subsequently forked the codebase and tuning it to work on their proprietary cloud infrastructure.

The value of open tooling as a stickytrap for creating a pool of developers who end up as sharecroppers who are glued to a specific company's closed infrastructure is well-understood and openly acknowledged by "open AI" companies. Zuckerberg boasts about how PyTorch ropes developers into Meta's stack, "when there are opportunities to make integrations with products, [so] it’s much easier to make sure that developers and other folks are compatible with the things that we need in the way that our systems work."

Tooling is a relatively obscure issue, primarily debated by developers. A much broader debate has raged over training data – how it is acquired, labeled, sorted and used. Many of the biggest "open AI" companies are totally opaque when it comes to training data. Google and OpenAI won't even say how many pieces of data went into their models' training – let alone which data they used.

Other "open AI" companies use publicly available datasets like the Pile and CommonCrawl. But you can't replicate their models by shoveling these datasets into an algorithm. Each one has to be groomed – labeled, sorted, de-duplicated, and otherwise filtered. Many "open" models merge these datasets with other, proprietary sets, in varying (and secret) proportions.

Quality filtering and labeling for training data is incredibly expensive and labor-intensive, and involves some of the most exploitative and traumatizing clickwork in the world, as poorly paid workers in the Global South make pennies for reviewing data that includes graphic violence, rape, and gore.

Not only is the product of this "data pipeline" kept a secret by "open" companies, the very nature of the pipeline is likewise cloaked in mystery, in order to obscure the exploitative labor relations it embodies (the joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians" comes out of the South Asian clickwork industry).

The most common "open" in "open AI" is a model that arrives built and trained, which is "open" in the sense that end-users can "fine-tune" it – usually while running it on the manufacturer's own proprietary cloud hardware, under that company's supervision and surveillance. These tunable models are undocumented blobs, not the rigorously peer-reviewed transparent tools celebrated by the open source movement.

If "open" was a way to transform "free software" from an ethical proposition to an efficient methodology for developing high-quality software; then "open AI" is a way to transform "open source" into a rent-extracting black box.

Some "open AI" has slipped out of the corporate silo. Meta's LLaMa was leaked by early testers, republished on 4chan, and is now in the wild. Some exciting stuff has emerged from this, but despite this work happening outside of Meta's control, it is not without benefits to Meta. As an infamous leaked Google memo explains:

Paradoxically, the one clear winner in all of this is Meta. Because the leaked model was theirs, they have effectively garnered an entire planet's worth of free labor. Since most open source innovation is happening on top of their architecture, there is nothing stopping them from directly incorporating it into their products.

https://www.searchenginejournal.com/leaked-google-memo-admits-defeat-by-open-source-ai/486290/

Thus, "open AI" is best understood as "as free product development" for large, well-capitalized AI companies, conducted by tinkerers who will not be able to escape these giants' proprietary compute silos and opaque training corpuses, and whose work product is guaranteed to be compatible with the giants' own systems.

The instrumental story about the virtues of "open" often invoke auditability: the fact that anyone can look at the source code makes it easier for bugs to be identified. But as open source projects have learned the hard way, the fact that anyone can audit your widely used, high-stakes code doesn't mean that anyone will.

The Heartbleed vulnerability in OpenSSL was a wake-up call for the open source movement – a bug that endangered every secure webserver connection in the world, which had hidden in plain sight for years. The result was an admirable and successful effort to build institutions whose job it is to actually make use of open source transparency to conduct regular, deep, systemic audits.

In other words, "open" is a necessary, but insufficient, precondition for auditing. But when the "open AI" movement touts its "safety" thanks to its "auditability," it fails to describe any steps it is taking to replicate these auditing institutions – how they'll be constituted, funded and directed. The story starts and ends with "transparency" and then makes the unjustifiable leap to "safety," without any intermediate steps about how the one will turn into the other.

It's a Magic Underpants Gnome story, in other words:

Step One: Transparency

Step Two: ??

Step Three: Safety

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5ih_TQWqCA

Meanwhile, OpenAI itself has gone on record as objecting to "burdensome mechanisms like licenses or audits" as an impediment to "innovation" – all the while arguing that these "burdensome mechanisms" should be mandatory for rival offerings that are more advanced than its own. To call this a "transparent ruse" is to do violence to good, hardworking transparent ruses all the world over:

https://openai.com/blog/governance-of-superintelligence

Some "open AI" is much more open than the industry dominating offerings. There's EleutherAI, a donor-supported nonprofit whose model comes with documentation and code, licensed Apache 2.0. There are also some smaller academic offerings: Vicuna (UCSD/CMU/Berkeley); Koala (Berkeley) and Alpaca (Stanford).

These are indeed more open (though Alpaca – which ran on a laptop – had to be withdrawn because it "hallucinated" so profusely). But to the extent that the "open AI" movement invokes (or cares about) these projects, it is in order to brandish them before hostile policymakers and say, "Won't someone please think of the academics?" These are the poster children for proposals like exempting AI from antitrust enforcement, but they're not significant players in the "open AI" industry, nor are they likely to be for so long as the largest companies are running the show:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4493900

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet to succeed the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[yanderepuck]

Salai-Chapter 2

WELCOME TO SALAI'S ROUTE. This is a FAN MADE route of my oc, Salai. This means this route contains my headcanons for the characters and in no way is suppose to represent the canon story. This is just a fun little time because I know many of you enjoy Salai. Feel free to engage, talk theories, send asks (even to @ask-salai ).

DISCLAIMER: His route his not canon to his character. Also, all of his lore in not in the route for simplicity reasons plus please feel free to ask about him.

Banner by @spooscribbles

Theo just had to call you hondje in front of strangers, he couldn't use your name out in public like a normal person.

You basically had to rip Theo away from Salai before he started asking so many questions and wanting to see more paintings.  You had been out long enough and once Theo starts talking about art he will never stop, especially with such a young artist.

Mitsuki: It was nice meeting you, Andrea!

You are pulling Theo’s arm to keep him walking. Salai waves to the two of them

Salai: Ciao.  Hopefully I will see you again soon, bella~

You swear he winked at you before he turned back to his canvas to keep painting.  You keep pulling Theo along for a few more feet.

Mitsuki: Why don’t you tell me what you had to go run off and get?

Theo: Just a little something for later

He finally started walking on his own.  You both took a carriage back to the mansion, making small talk to make the ride go faster.

~~

Back at the mansion you and Theo go right to the kitchen. You are putting your groceries away and Theo passes his mysterious bag over to Sebastian. You are still trying to figure out what it could be.

Not long after Theo leaves, Dazai enters.

Sebastian: Dazai-san is going to help with dinner tonight, so you can take the rest of the day off.

Mitsuki: Dazai is cooking? Will there be a kitchen left after tonight?

Dazai: no worries, Toshiko-chan. I don't want to face Sebastian-kun's punishment for ruining something

That forehead flick was one of the worst punishments you could get in the mansion. There was one day you had gotten a red mark in the middle of your forehead from how many flicks you had gotten.

Mitsuki: well…if you say you can handle it.

It was odd for Dazai to help with making dinner. He has made food for himself before, making tofu just the way he likes it. As you leave the kitchen and walk down the hall to your room you get lost in your thoughts.

Of course Sebastian was anticipating for you to leave, but did he not want you there? Did he not like having you as a co-worker?

Leonardo: watch out, Cara Mia.

You were two steps away from bumping into Leonardo. You were so lost in your head you hadn't noticed anything else.

Mitsuki: my bad

You quickly step to the side so that the two of you can keep walking

Leonardo: Why not tell me what is on your mind?

Leonardo starts following you down the hall. You can't tell him how you are really feeling. He will get even more worried.

Mitsuki: Oh it's nothing to worry about.

Leonardo: if you're worried about it then it only feels right for me to be worried too.

Leonardo has been so nice to you this past month. Always making sure you're smiling and not getting lost in your thoughts like you are now. Bumping into him is either the best thing to happen or the worst.

Leonardo: talk to me while I get some things done.

He takes you to his room. The room where you can't even see the floor. Piles of books and papers and tools and maps and well everything. You sit on his bed while he sits on the floor beside the crowded table in the middle of the room, working on what seems to be a watch.

Mitsuki: What is that?

Leonardo: Arthur's pocket watch. Considering the technology of this is two decades ahead of our time you would think he would take better care of it.

That's right. Arthur came back in time when he made his contract with Le Comte. Many of the things he and Dazai have are from the future.

Leonardo: Now what's on your mind, Cara Mia.

He tinkers with the watch, taking out pieces and putting them back in.

You are quiet for a moment. Should you be truthful?

Mitsuki: Don't get me wrong I love everyone here, and I'm thankful for everything everyone has done for me, but I was looking forward to going home and going back to my life.

You look around the room and look at all the things from different time periods.

Mitsuki: You didn't go through the door.. but do you ever want to be back in the Renaissance?

Leonardo chuckles. He's thought about this before, especially when not everyone knew he was a pureblood.

Leonardo: Not using that door is definitely a blessing. You get to adapt at the same flow everyone else is. Other than a handful of the residents, everyone was overwhelmed when they first got here. Since I lived through the changes I don't think I could go back and live without some things.

Mitsuki: I'm always hearing Arthur complain about how he needs to wait ten or more years for something to come out.

Just the other day Arthur was complaining about how awful current typewriters are and how he can't believe he ever used to use them.

Leonardo: But to really answer your question, I don't miss it. I miss the people, but there's nothing from the Renaissance that I can't do now. 

~~

You and Leonardo talk for some time and next thing you know it’s dark out.  You almost completely forgot about dinner.  What could Sebastian and Dazai possibly be making?  As if Leonardo knew what you were thinking he stood up.

Leonardo: Let’s go make sure Sebastian hasn’t banished Dazai from the kitchen.

You laugh and get off of his bed.  You’ve almost been banished from the kitchen before, poor Dazai probably has a red bump on his forehead by now.

You walk with Leonardo right past the kitchen and into the dining hall.  You are so used to helping make dinner and serving it that it feels weird going straight into the dining hall.

When you walk in everything is all set up and everyone is in there waiting for you.

Leonardo: Surprise, cara mia

He pushes you to the group knowing that you would stand there frozen otherwise.

Mitsuki: Wha…what is going on here?

Mozart: What does it look like?  We put together a party for you.

Napoleon: No need to be so blunt.

Isaac: We have noticed that you’ve been down these last few days, so we wanted something to cheer you up

You felt your heart start to swell up.  Then Dazai came over and grabbed you to have you look at what was on the table.  You hadn’t even paid attention to what was actually there.

Dazai: Sebastian-kun and I made what we are hoping are your favorites.  Shogayaki, tonkatsu, okonomiyaki

Sebastian: Miso, udon, gyoza and a few other things.  The octopus was not easy to find for the takoyaki.

Isaac: There’s what…

You know how hard it is to find the right ingredients for some of these foods.  You have tried before when you first came.  You were talking to some of the guys about the food and said you would try to make it for them, but you either couldn’t find the right ingredients or they were very expensive.  Le Comte must have let Sebastian spend whatever he needed on food.

Mitsuki: Guys..this…

You were choking up and could feel your eyes start to water. 

Theo: No crying allowed tonight, hondje

~~

Everyone is sitting at the table.  Comte and Leonardo brought out wine from the cellar and passed it around the table.

Dazai: Come here Ai-kun~  I want you to try this.

Isaac: I’m not eating that Dazai!

Dazai is holding out a takoyaki ball in front of Isaac, who is trying to push his hand away.  Isaac is struggling enough with the fact Dazai is making him eat the udon with chopsticks.

Mozart: How am I supposed to use these to eat noodles?

Sebastian: Let me show you

Sebastian has a big smile on his face as he is trying to show Mozart and Jean how to hold the chopsticks.  Jean just decided he is going to stab the tonkatsu.  Vincent is with Theo and Napoleon trying to show them.  Dazai taught him a while ago how to use them.  You would have never guessed but Vincent loves Japanese culture and is constantly asking the three of you things about your home country.

Leonardo: Just because you are head of the house doesn’t mean you get a pass, Comte

Leonardo is using the chopsticks and grabbing the food like a pro.  But you would expect nothing less from him.

Comte let out a sigh followed by a chuckle.

Comte: You’re right.  I’ve never been too good at using these.

He picked them up and Leonardo helped him with his finger placement.  As long as Comte didn’t set them down he could work them fine, he just couldn’t get them placed in his fingers correctly.

Arthur: Mitsuki I need help~

Mitsuki: I saw you using them fine just a moment ago!

You have your plate filled with food.  You have been craving this everyday.  You were already away from home when you got here, so it's been much longer than a month since you had real Japanese food.  Well, this couldn’t really be called real Japanese food, but it was the closest you were getting.

Dazai: Uh oh.  Looks like Ai-kun grabbed my glass of sake.

Napoleon: I think Mozart got them switched too.

Arthur: Let me try the sake!

After a while of eating and explaining and reexplaining what everything is to everyone Sebastian bought out a cake.  Turns out that’s what Theo had stopped to grab earlier today.  They trusted him the most with finding the best sweets,

Sebastian: Sorry, we didn’t have enough time to make dinner and desserts.  I hope cake will do.

Mitsuki: knowing Theo picked it out it’s got to be the best in the city

Mozart: please don’t tell me we have to eat the cake with chopsticks too

~~

You think it’s almost midnight.  Almost everyone has gone back to their room to go to sleep.  You ended up drinking just a little more than you should and were stumbling back to your room.  But it was a great night.  You get to your room and close the door behind you and fall onto your bed, face down.  After a moment you roll over and look up at the ceiling, thinking back to everyone tonight.  It doesn’t get much better than having everyone accounted for at dinner time.  They really did all of that for you to help you feel better.  Sebastian and Dazai put in so much work, you’re going to have to figure out how to repay them somehow.  But for now it's time for bed.  You don’t even bother getting fully changed.  You kick your skirt off and toss your bra to the floor and stay in just your shirt.  Now you hope you don’t have a hangover in the morning.

~~~

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[ratsoh-writes]

Maybe do an updated version of the introvert vs. extrovert list ask in masterlist 2, but with all the skeles?

Alright. *breaks fingers* let’s do this!!

Introverts: honey basil red rust lord mutt coffee butler gold Pluto Helios peaches ram pitch moose quill harpy papaya sails Alden barin saga snipe slim pop tempo green lens cricket tinker partner rowdy

Extroverts: papyrus Star willow lilac edge noir mal cash charm sugar sparks lush sir Flambe pesto Jupiter orion barley crow roost mango fisher Jasper Finn hook captain silex Ollivander arwin Hilda bruiser butch boss rhythm vibrato gears zen thistle yarrow

Ambiverts: sans oak wine salt pepper weasel atlas Artemis rancher cider maple Pearl ace G compass taffy pudding stitches shield

Longer answers: under the cut cause it’s a long fkn list

Sans: he truly is fine with or without company. Simply put sans is just too lazy to care. While he does value his privacy, that’s more in the lines of what his thoughts are. Sans doesn’t give out his true intentions easily. And he can keep being a secretive little jokester in the privacy of his own home, or surrounded by friends. It doesn’t make a difference to him.

Papyrus (and willow): papyrus loves people! He thrives on being surrounded by other happy faces. When he’s alone too long, his more anxious thoughts start turning creep in, so having friends or just any people around is always preferable.

Star (and lilac): he’s an extrovert cause it’s a lot easier to have fun with others than by yourself. Daily tasks just don’t hit as hard without commentary from other people to fill the silence. Star hates silence lol

Honey (and basil): he’s an introvert cause people are scary. It takes a while for him to get comfortable. Therefore it’s just easier to have his me time by himself.

Red (and rust): introvert. He doesn’t like people. And he’s territorial and likes his space. There’s really nothing deep to it

Edge (and noir): extrovert. The best work is done with a proper team and edge prefers his allies around him. He’s learned over the years that just life is simply more.. enjoyable with others, even if they sometimes hold him back he feels

Oak: while he and sans are both ambiverts, it’s for entirely different reasons. Oak simply can’t be introverted. It’s not safe for him to be along long times with his memory. And his perception of time is trash, so he gets nervous if he’s alone too long. But at the same time he would really rather not be always surrounded you know?

Mal: extrovert obviously. Come on, this gossip queen can be nothing else! After all you need many friends in order to get good tea~

Cash: he loves his besties, and causing chaos is always better in groups. You need people to take the blame with you after all lol. Cash prefers having company, mostly of very close friends, but he’ll take others too. He’s pretty extroverted

Lord: he’s a total introvert. He’s only happy to be around a small handful of special people all day, and even then he still needs breaks from them periodically lol

Mutt: he was an extrovert before his LV sickness, but his inability to connect has made him loose his taste for always wanting companionship, so he’s more introvert these days. Unless it’s the right person that is…

Wine: he quite likes lazy days alone, but he equally loves outings with groups. Wine just lets the day take him wherever it may go with no real preference. So ambivert

Coffee: total introvert. He doesn’t like people, and when he is actually in the mood to socialize, it’s for a very limited time frame lol.

Pluto: he’s such a little introvert. He has to get himself psyched up for a day beforehand first when he knows he’ll be in a group larger than four for a few hours. Pluto is perfectly happy spending his days researching alone instead

Jupiter: sports are better with teammates so 100% extrovert.

Orion: his lazy devil may care personality is deceiving. Orion thrives in company, he craves interaction. He’s the guy who will look at a complete stranger and go up to them to get their life story. Total extrovert

Atlas is an ambivert because while he can enjoy company, he doesn’t necessarily need it. He just needs adventure and gossip. It doesn’t have to come from a face to face source, but it doesn’t have to be alone to be enjoyable either

Helios: while he has a great stage face, that’s all it is, a fake face. Helios never liked the spotlight, it’s just another thing he endures so he can stay in the fight. He’d much rather be chilling alone in his Snuggie than dealing with people all the time

Artemis: she’d have been extroverted if she hadn’t been shut away in a hospital room for most of her life. Artemis is used to being alone, but she also loves interaction

Charm: he hates being alone with his thoughts. The brain is cold and hard, other peoples beds are soft and warm~ extrovert

Sugar: he just loves everybody! Of course he wants to hang out!! Total extrovert. If anyone argues otherwise they don’t know sugar at all

Sparks: I could repeat sugars answer and you have sparks pretty much. He loves everyone! Extrovert!

Salt: he’s ambivert as he likes people, but he likes his own space too. He needs a healthy balance of both to feel fulfilled

Lush: he’s a tragic extrovert. Lush craves companionship and company, but finds it very hard to make said friends that fufills that. So he pretends it doesn’t matter when it very much does. Please be friends with him!

Pepper: he’s incredibly picky about the company he keeps, and honestly doesn’t care if that means a few days alone or not. Pepper can entertain himself. But he does throughly love hanging out whenever with the ones he deems worthy. Ambivert

Sir: he’s a nosy bugger and likes being around every one so he can know what’s going on at all times. Sir is a great extrovert!

Weasel: he doesn’t really care if he’s causing chaos with friends, or just chilling alone. There are many ways weasel keeps himself entertained. He’s pretty independent. Ambivert

Butler: he tolerates large groups if he likes the people in them, but it doesn’t stop him from craving that sweet sweet alone time. He’s a social introvert.

Gold: while he does love being with friends, his social battery is way smaller than he acts it is actually. You can tell golds getting tired the more he flirts. He’s secretly hoping he can get this interaction over with so he can go back and work on his outfits

Flambe: all eyes on him ladies and gentleman~ extrovert lol. He loves attention too much not to be

Pesto: like Flambe, pesto craves attention and validation. And he wants it from lots of friends. He’s not in a place where he can feel that again, but he’s getting there. Extrovert

Peaches: he’s perfectly happy with just his trees, and family. But even with a large family, he knows he’ll get all his me time during his work in the orchid. He’s a sweet introvert

Rancher: he’s top goal driven to be introvert or extrovert. He doesn’t care if he’s alone or together with people, as long as he’s achieving the thing he wants to do right now!

Cider: he prizes peace, but peace can come in a group just as much as when it’s just him. Cider is used to a cramped large family, so being surrounded doesn’t bother him. But he’s also perfectly fine alone for a while. He’s definitely ambivert

Barley: he’s so extroverted he literally feels itchy if he’s been alone too long lol. Barley jokes that he’s allergic to solitude

Ram: things are just easier to understand when it’s just him. Ram does prize his alone time and peace. So introverted.

Pitch is easily the most introverted skeleton on this list. He’d be just fine socially if the only three people left in the world were him, Ram and maybe a nice gal/guy for ram lol.

Moose: he’s pretty introverted. While he does like outings, he wants to plan ahead for them. Or else he feels very drained afterwards. It is what it is

Maple: as long as a chainsaw is involved, maple doesn’t care if he’s alone or with 100 people. People that know chainsaw safety that is lol. He’s ambivert

Quill: he’s so introverted it hurts. Groups larger than 3 drain him so fast. He even needs breaks from best friends occasionally

Crow: he’s totally extroverted! Crow thinks people make everything so much more interesting! Yes he would like to hear about your day! Give him all those details!!

Roost: he’s a ladies man~ and a lads man~ and a platonic but flirty chill dude/dudettes guy! Roost just likes fun banter and prefers it over none at all. He’s pretty extroverted

Harpy: she truly doesn’t care if she does everything by herself, or if she has competent partners around her. In her main social life she’s seen as ambivert, but personally she feels as if she leans more towards introverted. While she puts up a good farce, she does just feel.. better alone. More calm.

Mango: she feels more secure surrounded by people she likes, preferably humans but she has monster friends too who’ve earned her trust! Mango is definitely extroverted!

Papaya: he’s more on the introverted side of the spectrum. Papaya is friendly and kind, but he simply just needs a dose of peace and quiet every day to function.

Fisher: his favorite activity in life is playfully tormenting others, and since that requires other people to work, extrovert it is~

Jasper: intellectually he knows he’s a walking dumpster fire if left to his own devices so Jasper constantly seeks out company from buddies. And he does like it lol. So he’s very extroverted

Finn: he quite literally took a job in the royal guard, then as a scout master cause it involves working with other people! Finn loves people and loves helping them! He’s extroverted for sure!

Sails: his ideal day is just him, his dog and a nice day out on his boat in the ocean. Nobody needing anything from him. Sails knows he’s an introvert and is cool with this about himself

Hook: he gets lonely easily, and seeks out lots of companionship and drama cause of it. Hooks always been extroverted because of this. It’s why he’s so happy on the ship with all his crew mates

Captain has honestly never had a life where he was alone. In his old au he shared a ship with many others, and now he captains a navy vessel with a crew on his own. He’d feel quite off if he ever did find himself alone. Captain is definitely extroverted

Pearl quite likes her relaxing me time, but she has no issues pleasing the masses as well as a princess. The spotlight on her is heavy but not exhausting. She’s a good ambivert.

Silex: this man is so extroverted lol. He wants to meet every one and see it all!!! It’s hard to imagine him as anything else

Alden: he’s happiest when it’s just him in his art studio. No distractions. Alden is for sure introverted even though he comes across as one of the more friendly skeletons

Ollivander: the reason his bank is so successful is because in part of how personable Ollie is! Ollivander is an extroverted fellow, and that friendly helpful face he puts on at work is very much genuine. Unless you aren’t paying your debts that is~

Hilda: she’s so obviously extroverted lol. And sucks for her since she was raised in a family of quiet polite high class introverts lol. Hilda felt pretty repressed growing up, leading to the over the top personality she has these days

Saga: she’s very much introverted. Saga is happy to just be left to her books for the rest of her life. But she will tolerate polite companions for a bit each day

Barin: he’s introverted, always has been. But his duties require him to manage a lot of people. So Barin powers through like he does with everything else in life. He really really values what little alone time he does have though

Arwin: he’s the extroverted life of the party! Arwin is a fan of having many fans and wears his posse like a badge of honor lol

Snipe: he hates people. And he probably hates you too. So don’t bother him. Introverted

Bruiser: he loves meeting his favorite people. And things are simply just too boring without them! So bruiser is very extroverted. He’s a needy friend lol

Butch: in order to kick *ss and take names, there needs to be *ss to kick and names to take, so for the sake of all his crazy shenanigans, butch must be extroverted lol

Boss: he craves companionship despite his best efforts to pretend he doesn’t. Boss feels quite lonely when he finds himself with nothing to do. Hence why he bosses his brothers around so much. He’s extroverted

Ace: causing chaos with (or against) others is fun~ causing chaos alone is also fun~ ace is a true ambivert

Slim: he’d rather hurl than have to be around people all the time. And his best friendships are more than often done through a screen. Slim is introverted all the way

Pop: he’s a very friendly and random introvert! He comes across as a quirky socialite though when- oh where did he go? Did he ditch every one again?

Rhythm: dancing is simply more fun with a partner so rhythm must be extroverted! Besides you need a mob to make a flash mob lol

Tempo: he’s very much introverted. After all he need solitude in order to make the compositions he loves! And he’s happiest when he’s creating

Vibrato: it’s a good thing he’s extroverted with how much he’s on stage! He loves his fans so much! And the paparazzi, and his bodyguards who keep him from the paparazzi lol

Lens: even without his paranoia, lens has always been more on the introverted side. There’s certain people he trusts enough to be fine around whenever, but anyone else is very tiring for him emotionally. It takes lens a long time to open up

Cricket: he’s introverted as well, a bit of a surprising fact for anyone who often sees him with cash and mal. Cricket likes his alone time at the junkyard. Only best friends can drag him away from it lol

G: he’s ambivert for sure. G does quite like being surrounded by people, but there’s something equally alluring with exploring life on his own too. He’s a go with the flow guy. Whatever fits better with that days plans works fine

Green: while socializing is enjoyable, green needs time to recoup and heal from it. He thinks very hard when he’s with people and even if he likes them and what they do together, he’s simply just tired afterwards. So introverted

Gears: he’s extroverted, but just barely. Gears can be alone for ages when he’s caught in creating a new trinket, but when he’s away from that (and lucid after he gets out of the inventors haze lol) he craves companionship! He wants to chat! To hang out! To be doted on lol

Compass: he’s a true ambivert. He’s happy playing and exploring on his own, but if someone wants to join he’s perfectly chill with adding them. No fuss. It’s not that deep for him

Zen: he’s an extroverted boy! Zen is just so curious about people. He wants to hear their stories! Plus it pleases the little host inside of him to have lots of others around!

Shield: hes ambiverted. While shield enjoys company, he also enjoys his independence quite a bit. Shield likes toeing the line between popular social guy and cool independent lone wolf. Why confine yourself to one label when you can have both?

Taffy: she doesn’t care for quantity of friends, just the quality. And if that means she’s alone sometime, well that doesn’t bother her. Taffy is a good ambivert

Pudding comes off as extroverted pretty easily, but she’s quite ambiverted really. Most of her social butterfly mask is just that, a mask. She enjoys the play bit doesn’t need it to feel fulfilled

Partner: he’s more introverted. And it reflects in what he does when he’s off the clock. When partner isn’t playing his part as sheriff, he takes a lot of time alone to himself

Rowdy never really got to explore himself socially as a child, so he’s trying very hard right now to come across as social open and adventurous. He’s been realizing over time though that he really just wants to be left to himself for most of the time. Adventure is only fun when it’s scheduled in with plenty of me time breaks in between. He’s an introvert

Stitches: he’s happy nerding out with friends, or nerding out alone! Online forums are a thing too. Stitches doesn’t need lots of companionship to be happy although it is fun. He’s ambivert.

Tinker: anyone who knows this monster can just smell the introvert oozing out of him lol. He crochets all day alone and loves it that way

Thistle: he’s extroverted! In fact he gets jittery if he’s been alone too long. He starts feeling unsafe. Loneliness is scary man

Yarrow: yarrow too is more extroverted for sure. Being raised in a coven all about family inclusion and stuff kinda leaves you no choice lol. He’s cool with it though

[nalyra-dreaming]

I have a couple of questions if that’s alright? A couple fo things have been bugging me and I don’t know who else to ask. I feel like I’m going crazy because I keep seeing the idea what Armand is entirely to blame for anything misremembering/untruths that Louis has about Lestat. But, is there evidence of him putting false memories in Louis head? I know he’s edited stuff out but what did we explicitly see him change or are we assuming that and waiting for the reveal next series?

Secondly, how are the coven awake to burn Claudia and Madeline? And how is Louis awake to burn then back? Aren’t they all basically unable to resist the call of sleep when the sun’s up?

Thanks for all the work you do in this fandom of answering questions! It’s so amazing having fans like you around willing to discuss things.

Hey!

Glad you like! I'll try to explain my view on this :)

So. For the misremembering:

It's not that easy. To say it was "all" Armand, I mean. Obviously there's hints (and some proof). The "broadcasting" question (the salesman), Louis seemingly not remembering the fire (Daniel prompting via the Talamasca files). Louis quoting word for word what has been planted in his brain (episode 2x05). Louis remembering the fight at the trial... and what we saw in 1x05 then not matching - for example. Louis telling us of what he remembers happened at the trial... and then the trial script contradicting. Louis telling us of Claudia's turning... and then later admitting to himself that he was wrong. Because...

... there's also the odyssey of recollection. The fallacy of memory. These vampires do forget with time. Events blur, dates are hard to pin down. The dates in season one for example are off by a year- all of them.

In the books (and outside of them, by Anne's statement), it is later said that Louis... well, lied. Exaggerated. There's snide comments in-universe. Because he was being petty, and angry. Think the interview in San Francisco in the show. Those were direct IWTV book quotes(!). The show has heavily pulled up the memory aspect instead, and shifted (some of) the blame to Armand by making him "tinker" (as Assad called it) with Louis' mind and memories in an effort to not lay it all on Louis. This tinkering (in and by itself) also happens in the book, Armand makes Louis turn Madeleine there, for example. Brings down a "veil" between him and reality when they come for them before the trial, or later when they travel. Lies to him, tells him Lestat is dead.

I don't think Armand is to blame for everything. For me the scene with the misplaced photos was very interesting for example, because Armand's frustration there read as real to me - it was nothing he did.

But Armand does a lot. Before SF, before that suicide attempt, he ... lets Louis go on killing sprees, resigns himself to clean up after Louis. After that suicide attempt however (at some point after it, depending on whether some of or all of DM happened or not) that stops. Louis does not go off and kill anymore. Louis stays, more or less broken. I have called that the "Stepford Wives" phase, and I think that fits, because Armand is constantly readjusting Louis. And Louis is not relieved when Armand reveals himself in 1x07.

You can see the behavioral shifts in the show between the episodes, too. The missing diary pages of episode 1 that Louis wants to have? Never mentioned again. The fact that Louis was up during the day, and then suddenly has to sleep till sundown while Armand tells his little fanfic story of Lestat. The using the same words and phrases. Assad said that Armand is constantly spinning his web (his words) and so he constantly readjusts... not necessarily out of a malicious desire - no, ultimately he just clings to what he has.

So no, Armand is not to blame for everything. But I personally think the show might have given us a lot of hints already, I spoke about the "hair" aspects (and what Louis got "wrong") here. There's links to the "train scene" that is unlikely to have happened as told, as well as the "hotel scene" in there as well. Louis knowing he can invite Daniel to break through was only recently called "a lifeline"

Which brings us to another aspect, the intent of the tale. Because Louis wants to protect Claudia (as he should), and that also influences the way he tells the tale - of course. Makes some things seem inevitable, for example.

And, last but not least, I can only recommend reading this article by Linda Codega - who wrote about Armand being rather important in November 22 :)

I don't think we will get big reveals à la "Oceans Eleven" or something. I think the show will expect us to think for ourselves there... 😅 And there will be clues, lots of clues... little puzzle pieces, for us to put together.

As per your other question:

The show has softened the "death sleep" to ... let's say "coffin sleep".

Louis tells "us" about it when he goes to burn them down, that the vampire's world narrows down to the coffin when they lock themselves in (we see a bigger version of that when he and Armand go to bed in their darkened bedroom). And that is why he can - more or less - surprise them.

That is not quite book canon :) BUT! The movie also softened that up already, we had Claudia tippy-toe along the sunbeams to Louis there, for example.

And in the show the vampires obviously can be up when the sun has risen, even during midday.

AND, to be fair:

The show has (already) introduced Fareed Bhansali, the "vampire doctor". He is a character from the later books, and he... wanted to free the vampires from the death sleep.

And, tongue-in-cheek: Guess he did it^^.

[snappedsky]

ROTTMNT: Retired Leo AU

Leonardo helps Usagi with an important job.

--

Undercover

It’s a lazy day in the lair. An action B-movie is playing on the projector screen that nobody is paying complete attention to. Raph is doing arm curls with dumbbells; Donnie is tinkering with a drone; Mikey is drawing in his sketchbook; Leo is reading a comic book; Casey is plucking aimlessly at his guitar. Leonardo and Splinter are in their normal spot- Leonardo lounging in the easy chair with Splinter on his lap. Both of them are half asleep.

The serene comfort is instantly interrupted by a buzzing from Leonardo’s pants. He grabs his phone, his eyebrow cocking curiously at the caller ID, before clearing his throat and answering it. “Hello?”

“Leonardo-san,” a voice with a Japanese accent replies.

“Usagi,” Leonardo greets back, smiling. His smile drops when he sees everyone else in the room grinning cheekily at him. “Uh, just one sec.”

He moves Splinter, gets off the chair, and goes down a side tunnel. “So what’s up? How’s things?”

“I am well,” Usagi replies, “you...you said I could call you if I needed help with anything...”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, it so happens I require your assistance with a job. I would rather not discuss it over the phone. Could we perhaps meet at your home?”

“My home...” Leonardo trails off as he is acutely aware that the kids are hiding down the hall, listening in. “Uh, my home isn’t exactly...the safest place to be.”

“I see...do you have another suggestion?” Usagi asks.

“Do you know Run of the Mill Pizza in New York?”

“I have heard of it.”

“We can meet there. It’s discreet and I know the owner.”

“Very well,” Usagi agrees, “see you there then?”

“See you there,” Leonardo replies and hangs up. As he goes back down the hall, he stops briefly when he sees Raph, Leo, Donnie, Mikey, and Casey standing to the side of the doorway, grinning at him.

[ask-tinker-sans]

Do you know much about the multiverse?

[covid-safer-hotties]

The Push for Off-Label Rx to Treat Long Covid

Also preserved in our archive

By Tinker Ready

Charlie McCone, a San Francisco marketing specialist, developed long COVID in 2020. Before he recovered, he developed another acute case of COVID, and in 2021 his long COVID worsened. He’s been sick with fatigue and shortness of breath since then, spending many hours of every day in bed.

Only one drug helped his shortness of breath, he said. But doctor after doctor refused to prescribe that drug, Plavix, approved by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to prevent blood clots.

McCone began asking for it after doing his own research and learning it showed promise. When he finally found a doctor to authorize a prescription, McCone said, he began to breathe easier again.

McCone, now an advocate for long COVID sufferers as part of the Patient-Led Research Collaborative, a group of researchers and patients with long COVID, felt he had to take alternative steps. With no federally approved treatments for the millions of Americans who have experienced long COVID, some patients and doctors are turning to off-label drugs to manage the condition . But patients say it is not always easy to get a doctor to prescribe them. And in some cases, insurance will not cover the drugs, ruling them experimental.

In the case of Plavix, Stellenbosch University researchers in South Africa have published results of a blood plasma analysis that found patients with long COVID had microclots — and Plavix may help relieve them.

McCone and others are asking doctors to learn about and use off-label drugs that show evidence of helping long COVID symptoms. Among them: Low-dose naltrexone for fatigue Nicotine patches for fatigue Rapamycin for immune function Triptans for headaches Beta-blockers for postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, dizziness Paxlovid for viral persistence Plavix and other blood thinners for blood clots

“We don't believe any of these drugs are going to cure patients, but [using them off-label] can be the difference between a patient holding onto their job,” McCone said. “There could be a patient going from being stuck in a dark room to being able to socialize and enjoy their day. This can be difference of a parent being able to take care of their children.”

Not every doctor is going to be comfortable prescribing Plavix, McCone said. But there is some solid evidence to support the idea that low-risk drugs like it can bring long COVID patients a lot of relief, he said.

The Argument for More Aggressive Off-Label Prescribing Julia Moore Vogel, PhD, senior program director at the Scripps Research in La Jolla, California, was co-author on a paper published last month in Cell calling for a stronger push for long COVID treatments. The paper noted that “as patients await evidence-based care, many engage in self-experimentation on the edges of medical science.”

Moore Vogel and others say people don’t need to experiment. They can use safe, existing treatments if they know about them and a doctor agrees a prescription is warranted. She would like to see more professional medical groups do more continuing education on long COVID so doctors can learn about the best off-label options.

Groups like the American Academy of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation have come up with a guideline on how to treat cardiac, respiratory, and other symptoms in patients with long COVID. But Moore Vogel thinks primary care doctors should take the lead.

“Part of what we're saying is a lot of it falls on the primary care physicians at this point because people are waiting so long to get into those subspecialties,” she said.

She would like to see recommendations for the primary care providers boiled down in simple terms about what is known about first-line, off-label therapies that have emerged.

Sterling Ransone, MD, a family physician in coastal Virginia, agrees that primary care specialists need to be educated on how to detect and treat long COVID.

He says he sees about one long COVID case a week, and sometimes his patients don’t know they have it. Patients will come in a month after symptoms, and he will ask them if they were sick and have tested for COVID.

“I literally had a patient tell me, ‘Is that still a thing?’” he said.

He suggests doctors add long COVID to the list of conditions they rule out when presented with confounding symptoms.

“What we need to do is make sure we always ask about the potential for long COVID with this myriad of symptoms,” Ransone said.

He prescribes off-label medication after doing research, if a patient asks for it, he said.

“If it's somebody I know well and they've got questions about something, I'll absolutely sit down and talk with them and tell them the research that I've done,” he said. “I mean, you know, from a physician standpoint, above all, do no harm, right?”

Once patients and doctors decide to try something, they need to get insurance approval. Some of the medicines are denied insurance coverage and are expensive, Ransone said.

“We have to go through prior authorization processes, and that's just another hurdle these folks unfortunately have to jump over,” he said.

One reason patient advocates say off-label medications are key is that clinical trials take too long, McCone said. Many trials of long COVID treatments are underway, but none have led to conclusive findings that have identified effective standardized treatments for the condition. As a result, the FDA has not approved any standard long COVID treatments in the same way treatments for other viral conditions and diseases have received approval and are widely used.

Patient Advocacy by Patients McCone is a patient representative to the National Institutes of Health’s RECOVER-TLC research program, which met this summer to launch a series of clinical trials. He said the organization is making progress, but results from the clinical trials aren’t expected until 2028 — a long time for patients with long COVID to wait.

He noted the upcoming trial of low-dose rapamycin, which researchers hope will address some of the immune or infection-related dysfunction that drives long COVID.

After McCone spent hours in bed for more than a year, he can now work at the computer for about 2 hours a day. His shortness of breath improved after he started taking Plavix.

“That's up from about 30 minutes. I can leave the house occasionally, once to twice a week, depending on the week,” he said.

McCone and others are calling for better continuing education for doctors about long COVID for doctors and more publicly available information to help patients know what drugs are already out there and might benefit them.

“Read the research, provide some low-risk treatment options to your patients, and let your patient decide,” he advised doctors. “I don't think this is asking you too much. This is a health crisis that's impacting every aspect of society.”

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Backstage Story Translation - Tasuku Takato SR: He Who Has Mastered The Path of Magic - Part 2

Izumi: Will you be practicing for your guest performance today too, Tasuku-san?

Tasuku: No, I’m going to do Street ACTs today.

Izumi: (I guess he’ll be practicing by himself?)

Kamekichi: Here I am!

Izumi: Huh, Kamekichi!?

Izumi: Are you going to do a Street ACT with Kamekichi…?

Tasuku: Yeah. I’m going to show off the results of my training.

Kamekichi: Leave it to me! With me here, you’ve got nothing to fear!

Izumi: Huh? Uh, um, stay safe!

[Tasuku and Kamekichi leave]

Izumi: What does the results of his training even mean…? -

Izumi: (I can’t stop thinking about it… Tasuku-san is doing a Street ACT with Kamekichi? Our Tasuku-san?)

Izumi: … Maybe I should go sneak a peek.

-

Izumi: (Looks like there’s a lively crowd around here…)

Izumi: Could it be…!

Izumi: (It is! That’s Tasuku-san and Kamekichi!)

Izumi: (It looks like they’re doing some kind of card magic…)

Izumi: Did he mean magic tricks when he said the results of his training…!?

???: And this is just the beginning.

Izumi: !?

Chikage: Fancy meeting you here.

Izumi: Huh? … Chikage-san!?

Chikage: You really get startled easily.

Izumi: A lot of startling things have been happening today.

Chikage: Come on, keep watching. He’s going to pull off the one he’s worked the hardest on now.

Tasuku: “Oh dear, where could my partner have flown off to?”

Izumi: (He has totally transformed into a magician…)

Tasuku: “Could he be trying to play hide-and-seek?”

Tasuku: “You over there. Would you be so kind as to help me look for him?”

Boy: Me?

Izumi: (Is he going to… spread out cards and make the audience choose?)

Boy: Hmmm, maybe this one?

Tasuku: “The Ace of Hearts… I see.”

Izumi: (Tasuku-san put a cloth on top of the card the boy selected.)

Tasuku: “Now then, let us end this game of hide-and-seek.”

Izumi: (He removes the cloth and…)

Kamekichi: You found me!

Izumi: Kamekichi…!?

Tasuku: Thank you very much!

-

Izumi: That was amazing, Tasuku-san…! It’s hard to believe you weren’t sure you could pull off magic tricks at first.

Kamekichi: This is all thanks to me!

Tasuku: Well, it’s more like half of it.

Kamekichi: Gimme those 13 coins!

Tasuku: Sure.

Chikage: I suppose the other half is thanks to me, then?

Tasuku: You won’t hear me deny that.

Izumi: But you really seemed like a magician! You must have practiced a lot.

Tasuku: I did. This is all thanks to Utsuki, Kamekichi, and to you for listening to me, Director.

Chikage: He may say all that, but all I did was give him a few tips. The result you see is the fruits of Tasuku’s diligent practice.

Izumi: (You can tell from his expression that Tasuku-san has relaxed. Looks like there’s no need to worry about him anymore, I’m sort of relieved.)

Izumi: … That reminds me, there’s something I’m a little curious about.

Tasuku: Hm?

Izumi: It kind of feels like Kamekichi’s bow tie is flashier, or just more sparkling than usual…

Izumi: Was that your doing as well?

Tasuku: Huh? Of course not.

Izumi: Which means… don’t tell me.

Chikage: …

Izumi: (He always denies it, but Chikage-san sure enjoys tinkering with lights…)

Kamekichi: I like it a lot, you know. Thanks, Chikage!

Chikage: You’re welcome.

Izumi: But if you can do tricks like that, you’ll be fine for your guest performance!

Tasuku: Yeah, you’re right.

Tasuku: It’s just…

Izumi: …?

Tasuku: All I’ll be doing during the performance is simple tricks with what I have on hand.

Izumi: Whaaa!?

Tasuku: It won’t involve asking the audience to pick cards, and it definitely won’t involve an animal partner.

Izumi: I-I suppose so…

Chikage: That’s why I said all I did was give him a few tips. See?

Izumi: Ah…

Izumi: (That’s Tasuku-san for you… When he sets his mind to something, he sees it through to the end!)

part 1 | part 2

[pynkhues]

Am I the only person alive who would find it (darkly) hilarious if Armand did erase the rest of the 70s interview memory at Louis’ request? I think we can all agree Armand has taken a lot of liberties with the truth and he’s a pretty seasoned manipulator but I’m just so amused with the idea that that was one of the only times he was telling the truth (mostly because of how hard Daniel was rolling his eyes over it and because of how insane it sounds.) it’s got that same energy as that one co-worker who’s always causing trouble who you finally call out, only to find this was the one time they weren’t responsible.

On a similar note, because of how Louis is portrayed (ie with a spotty or unreliable memory at times) and how Armand is portrayed (lying, sometimes directly and sometimes by omission) how do you think about the bits of story we get from the two of them re authenticity? I see lots of takes that just…sweep anything complex or unsavory under the proverbial ‘blame Armand’ rug or the ‘Louis’ brain is Swiss-cheese’ blanket as opposed to examining each action and element of the story through the lens of where each character is coming from in that moment. (For example, I’ve seen plenty of folks question if Louis’ memories of lestat can be trusted at all or if it’s all just Armand’s tinkering to make him look bad and just…it’s a tv show. From a practical standpoint they literally cannot rip up everything they’ve shown you. Rehashing memories can only be done some of the time or the audience gets frustrated. And from a story perspective, can’t we take Louis at his word at least some of the time until shown otherwise?)

(Side note and ironic given my ask but I wish we had half as much discourse about Louis as a capitalist and his understanding of the commodification of experiential human things such as art as we do about whether all his memories are unreliable re his romantic relationships. Thank you so much for including the gallery scene in your fic.)

Hahah, I don't think you'd be alone in finding it darkly hilarious if Louis had asked Armand to take the memory away. Hell, the ambiguity of that scene works because it's believable that Louis would ask - Louis really pendulums between heavy handed repression and unrestrained self-indulgence, and it seems like a dam burst for him that night when it came to Lestat. His name had been unuttered in their home for 23 years! And given Armand can read his mind and could clearly sense thoughts of Lestat in Paris, I imagine he's not been deliberately not thought about too. And suddenly a night with Daniel and it's all he can say! All he can think about! The pressure he's placed on the box he keeps Lestat in has loosened just enough to let it all come out!

To know Armand tried to contact Lestat, to feel his own weakness, to know Lestat might know not just his mental state but his crumbling resolve in terms of the promise he made him in Magnus' tower - - it's not hard to see him asking for Armand's help in repressing it all again.

And in terms of their authenticity in the telling of their stories - - I think it varies! I think Armand definitely and deliberately finds the truth malleable, but that doesn't mean I think he lies about everything. Like you said, he tends to prefer to omit than outright lie - like omitting Gabrielle in his recounting of 1800s Paris or the truth about San Francisco, or, I'm sure we'll discover in s3, Lestat being in Paris in the 40s.

I actually don't think he would've tampered with Louis' memories of Lestat at all though - I don't think he would've needed to. Louis is a really punishing character and Lestat's a volatile one, I don't think it would be all that hard for Louis to focus on Lestat's worse behaviour, or to allow his memory to re-write certain events with the most bad faith interpretations of Lestat's actions, thoughts or words as a means to keep him at an emotional distance. Memories aren't facts, even when we want them to be, and I think for Louis they're as malleable when he needs them to be as the truth is for Armand.

The result is that they enable each other's untruths, I think, which goes to the facade of their relationship. Louis can try and mould his memories into something that justifies his choices, and Armand can mould the truth in a way that makes their love story something more than it is, but that doesn't mean that it's entirely lies or entirely inauthentic. It's a version of a story that they've enabled in one another to perform a happiness neither of them feels, but neither knows an alternative to because Louis' grief struck, traumatised and clinically depressed and Armand has been groomed by a monster, has undealt with trauma of his own and an incapacity to be alone.

So yeah, I think a lot of it is true, it's just not a whole truth.

[goldyluna]

Ask time ✨

Can you assign your favourite song(s) to your favourite character(s)? And, if you want, say why do you think that song is them? (vibe and style can be enough, you don't have to worry about the lyrics :3 So if there's a song that reminds you of a certain character, but the lyrics don't suit them, then don't worry about it :3 I know that sometimes the melody suits someone but the lyrics not always, so please feel free to go with your feelings <3)

Ohhh shit, a killer of a question. A challenge I shall try my best to do

I will go with my current Top 6 (because I want to talk about a lot of my favs but I am lazy at the same time). If you don't want any spoilers, don't read my reasons why I picked the songs!

Shin Tsukimi from Your Time To Die – I would pick Not My Turn To Die by Micki Robyns-P. But is it cheating if I choose a fansong made about the character? Well, I think about this song when I think about him. But another song that I would give him is King of a Tragedy by Isak Danielson. The vibes and lyrics are pretty what I would is him. Shin Tsukimi, a King of a Tragedy. Doesn't is sound right? If we analize it more, lyrics tell about destructive relationships but you want to still be with that person and you hate yourself because of that. Shin's relation with Midori wasn't great but it was his only friendship then. This relationship influenced Shin even later in life, when Midori dissapeared on him. It affected his reactions and behavior during the death game.

Jinx from Arcane – Gasoline by Halsey is one of the one I can think of. (The other one is Get Jinxed made just for her of course, but I'm gonna pick some not related songs). I think she would cry and scream to this song. The lyrics hit hard and can be connected to her. I can imagine her tearing her throat raw with her singing, feeling it. Pouring this motherfucking champagne down the drain. That she feels like a hurricane destroying everything, jinxing exerything. The melody could be more agressive and chaotic, but it is nothing that Jinx wouldn't fix with her tinkering lol

Sans from Undertale – Kagerou Days by Jin. This song alawys reminds me about Undertale. I love it so much with the time loops and I know other people think this song fits Sans too. On youtube can be found a "cover" or more like reinterpretation of the song with Sans and Papyrus as the main characters. The desperation to save but not being able, even if the days are reapeting. I know Sans doesn't remember exactly the new resets and only has a feeling and is aware of it. But still living in a deja vu is horrible. He knows monsters are dying. And I also am a fan of the theory that Papyrus is aware too so the song is perfect for this.

Miles Morales form Spiderverse – Mother by Ina Wroldsen. This song makes me cry. And connecting it with Miles? Heart destroyed, emotions in shambles. He is so far, so away from his home, his world. The danger is so near and everyone tells him he should let it happen. It is hard to be a Spider-man, especially if you want to do things your way. If you want to save everyone you love and you try so hard, but things aren't always going the right way. I just know that he would love to see and talk to his mother. To tell her everything. So she could console him and make him feel better. So she could hug him and say him he is home.

Tenma Tsukasa from Project Sekai – Beat Me by Davina Michelle. Maybe it is my angsty side talking (I mean, every song I gave is kinda angsty), but I really think this song suit him! Tenma always will stand up and do better! Because he will be a Star! He will show everyone his worth with how bright he shines✨

Fluttershy from My Little Pony – Are You Happy In Paris? by SOLARIA and CharM-P. Another song really hitting close to home so maybe why I want to give it to Fluttershy. The vibe is so right. The melody words so well with her in my opinion. Lyrics kinda too. It is what I imagine would go throug her head after she fell from the clouds, thinking about Rainbow Dash as she was her only friend. But Rainbow Dash had dreams that were so different than Fluttershy's. This song also is perfect for my little AU I have only in my head <33

[resvarie]

You said ask abt Ami so... More abt her home planet? And how often did she tinker with those cyber guts djdnkdnskssn ;D

OKAY this took me a while to put down about because her lore isn’t fully fleshed out, so its all subject to change.. but the gist is her home planet was a really nice island planet that was taken under the strategic investment department’s wing after a stellaron threat and became indebted to them. as time passed, the ipc took advantage of the natives, and had a few clashes with them that were all erased from history — ami’s family sans her sister had died in one of these rebellions. the planet rapidly developed and some natives joined with the ipc, some still clung onto their traditions and fought against the ipc.

ami was one of those who remember the way the planet was before the ipc came, wanting to honor her dead elders and wanting to preserve their ways, angry at the ipc for everything they’d done. but her sister had only grown up with the ipc, got an education because of them and even got a job there, life did seem to get easier under the ipc… so yayyy conflict!!! (ami becomes a galaxy ranger to fulfill a childhood dream she and her sister both had and also to run away from confronting her feelings on the state of her home :D)

and she’s ALWAYS tinkering with them cyber guts B) ever since they met :,D