#unlike other crafting subs i liked

[hauntedbyyarn]

I feel like people saying this never got far enough past the top few subreddits to realize what it was actually for: random niche forums for any interest.

The crafting subreddits frequently had crass humor (way too many crocheted penises for my liking) but they were usually tagged as NSFW which means you wouldn't see it without clicking on the post. No one was bringing porn into someone's post about a doily.

yall are acting like redditors are lost little babies in need of a new home. instead of like. an invasive species that should be shot on sight.

[reginyani]

Wet Dreams | s.reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer decides to call it a day and head to bed, where he has a vivid wet dream of one of his female coworkers at the BAU.

cw: 18+, mdni, nsfw, dom!reader, sub!spencer, fem!bau!reader, oral sex, blowjob, reader swallows, use of Y/N, wet dreams

wc: 1174

authors note: sorry for the inactivity on my account! decided to pay back for that with some spencer smut;) enjoy! if you did, like and reblog!

It was an ordinary night, or so Spencer thought. The hum of the lights in his apartment, the soft tick of the clock on the wall, and the familiar weight of the blanket wrapped around his lower body. Yet something was still different.

 

When he closed his eyes, the world around him slowly started to drift away into an even deeper atmosphere.

 

It started like any other dream he has had—disjointed, unclear—but soon it shifted, warped. He found himself still lying down, leaning up on his bed. The room was dimly lit, and the air was thick with unfamiliar tension. The walls were dark, shadowed, as though the room itself was alive and shifting with every passing second.

 

Before he could process what was happening, the sound of footsteps echoed through the space. He looked up from his covers and found you standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

 

It was you, his BAU co-worker. Unlike anyone he had ever seen, a vision so striking he forgot how to breathe for a second. Your eyes glowed deeply in the low light, and your presence radiated an intense, magnetic pull. You weren't just beautiful; you were something otherworldly. It was odd; he had never noticed it before. As you stepped closer, Spencer's heart skipped a beat.

 

"What are you... doing here?" He asked, his voice hoarse, as if his body were betraying him. It was unable to comply with his usual levelheadedness.

 

"What do you mean, silly? I've been here," you said, continuing to walk over to the edge of his bed.

 

"I—uh..." He's at a loss for words, raising an eyebrow as he watches your body sway side to side as your footsteps make noise against the wood floor.

 

Once you finally make it to his bed, you crawl onto it, on all fours, making your way up his body. You smirk, looking into his big brown eyes. You snatch the blanket off, throwing it somewhere to find some other time.

 

"I can give you exactly what you need, Spencer," you said, your voice soft and melodic, your words carefully crafted to seduce him. It made his pulse race, a sudden heat rising in his chest that he couldn't explain.

 

"Need?" He gulped, sitting up straighter as your body towered over his, his brain trying to catch up with the situation. "I don't... I don't understand," his sad brown puppy eyes staring into your glowing ones in confusion.

 

You leaned in, your face mere inches from his, your breath warm against his skin. "I'm what you need in this exact moment," you whispered. "A way to... release tension, free you from the weight of your thoughts. You think so much, analyzing everything, but sometimes... you need to have an escape."

 

His chest tightened at the suggestion, his mind racing with undignified thoughts. There was something about your presence that made it impossible for him to think straight. It was as if you knew every part of him, every desire, every worry he buried deep inside himself.

 

"You don't have to think anything," you murmured, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pajama pants. "Just feel."

 

Spencer's breath hitched as he looked down at your hand. He always prided himself on his control, but here, in this strange dream, that control seemed to slip through his fingers. His mind screamed to not allow this to happen, but his body betrayed him as he let out a whimper in anticipation.

 

You smiled at his inner conflict, his whimper music to your ears. "You don't have to fight it," you continued to whisper to him, seductively. "Do you want this, Spencer?" you finally ask.

 

He looks back up at you before finally nodding his head. "...Yes."

 

You grin, quickly pulling down his pajama pants and boxers all at once. His cock sprung out, already hard. He looks away from the scene, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

 

"Don't be embarrassed, baby. It's just me," you say, reassuring him and his doubts about this. Although there was no turning back now.

 

You look back down to his throbbing member, taking it in your hand and stroking it slowly. He turns his head back over, his mouth opening as a low groan escapes his lips.

 

"Oh... oh." he let out, throwing his head back in pleasure. You looked up to see his messy brown curls fall from his slightly wet forehead, his image more beautiful than ever.

Pathetic. It turned you on.

You finally lean your head down, taking it in your mouth slowly, your lips gliding over him as your hand worked the rest that couldn't fit into your mouth. Your tongue began to swirl and flick against the tip, feeling the smooth surface in your mouth.

 

Spencer couldn't hold back anymore. His hands flung to your head, gripping your hair, and he pushed your head further, allowing his cock to be fully pushed into your mouth. He holds your hair back as you begin to bob your head up and down, gagging as his cock hits the back of your throat.

 

Spencer's legs began to shake slightly, moaning loudly. His shame wasn't apparent anymore, as he allowed himself to guide your head on his length, beginning to thrust his hips unwillingly.

 

"Fuck... Just like that." He continues to thrust, this time in a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of your mouth with a swishing sound. Your lips gripped around his cock, driving him closer to release. "God, Y/N. You're so... talented."

 

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, filled with lust and desire. All his problems seemed to fade away, nothing on his mind but the feeling of your lips clenching against his cock. You moan slightly, sending vibrations up his length, making him stutter out a whimper.

 

"I'm... I'm close..." he warned, his voice low but filled with pleasure as you worked your mouth on him.

 

Suddenly, a loud whine escaped his mouth, his legs heavily shaking uncontrollably. He clutched the sheets, his knuckles turning white as a warm liquid began to fill your mouth.

 

You swallowed.

 

You slide your mouth off his cock with a loud pop, sitting upward as you gaze at his face.

 

"You did so well, baby." You cooed, praising him as you brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. He sighed softly, his arms shaking as he struggled to keep his body up. "I'm glad I could help you escape, even if it wasn't real."

 

That was the last thing you said before his eyes opened, breathing heavily as he sat up in his bed. The remnants of the dream lingered in the edges of Spencer's mind. It had been so vivid, so real—the kind of dream where every detail felt significant. Spencer rubbed his temples, pulling fragments of the haze, but the more he thought about it, the further it seemed to fade away.

 

How was he gonna act when he saw you at work? He flipped his sheets off his hot body, then looked down at his pajama pants.

 

Fuck.

 

Is all he thought as he looked down at the wet splotch on his crotch.

 

 

tags:

[sansaorgana]

— IN PERPETUITY (I)

PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — Two most powerful Lieutenants of Morgoth and twisted lovers in private form a pact through cursed marriage to become their master's equal successors and rule Middle-earth together. He, however, has other plans and does not intend to share. She takes the matters into her own hands.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The idea for this fic showed up in my head while I was working on a different fic with a Maia!Reader, in which she is good and pure and all that. And that other story will be finished and posted, too, but with a delay because I focused on this one first. 🙈 The Reader in this fic is a Maia, so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. This fic will have a second part with Annatar!Sauron but in this part you get only Jack Lowden!Sauron because that ginger loser needs some love and attention as well. 😭🥰 The title of the fanfic and its vibe are inspired by the song Sugarbread by Soap&Skin. Special thanks to @dinsbeskar for giving me the most appreciated feedback before I posted this fic! 💕

WARNINGS — Reader is evil-evil with sadistic undertones, betrayal, murder, manipulation, gaslighting, blood drinking/pact/magic, mentions of Sauron being tortured by Morgoth, SMUT, sub!Sauron

WORD COUNT — 4,650

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

IN PERPETUITY (I)

It was no surprise to any of The Valar that you were one of the first to follow Morgoth. You always found it troublesome to obey the orders, to show respect or loyalty. As if you had been already created flawed, although no one dared to question Eru’s decisions.

The gods were aware, however, that Morgoth wanted you as his servant as well for he was a god like them. Therefore, they expected you to come back with your tail between your legs, begging for their forgiveness since they were much more merciful masters than he ever would be.

Nevertheless, that did not happen and you became one of the most loyal Lieutenants to the Dark Lord. You sometimes amazed your own self with the amount of cruelty you were able to inflict. Perhaps Eru himself had created you this way indeed – perhaps you were evil by his design. Dark creatures like Morgoth or you were needed to emphasise the lightness – cursed outcasts to show an example.

Morgoth did not even need to break you as much as others who had followed him. He did not feel the need to rebuild you or push you as far as most of his followers because it did not take much for you to become the very worst version of yourself.

You were the lucky one.

Mairon was not.

You could hear his whimpers and screams of pain as he was tortured. And you watched and watched in awe at him transforming with Morgoth's help into the man that would from now on be known as Sauron amongst many.

But to you he would remain Mairon. And Mairon watched you in awe, too.

He observed you with admiration and curiosity. He wanted to be more like you – so terrifyingly beautiful in your art of cruelty. And he was learning the craft from you.

Until, eventually, with your master's help and by his twisted design, Mairon became a Lieutenant as loyal and fierce as you.

And each time he failed at a task given to him by Morgoth, he would come to you first, seeking comfort and hoping you would ease your master before their encounter – like a child would come to their mother, fearing their father's anger.

Everyone knew Morgoth was gracing you with a special treatment. And even though it was unlikely he was able to feel any real affection towards you, many knew that you were the only Lieutenant of his that he actually cared about because you were the only one who abandoned The Valar thoroughly and wholly.

You did not care about him, though. The Valar were right – you did not enjoy being under him; under anyone. And you truly hated the destruction that he was causing as you could not understand the desire of becoming the King of ashes.

You wanted to be the Dark Lady yourself and you often fantasised what you would do if you were him. His god-like status did not intimidate you and you could not care less whether it was a blasphemy or not to imagine yourself as a Vala. No god had ever intimated you.

You were your own god and you wanted to rule over the world. To make it perfect and harmonious.

You became closer with Mairon when you sensed his heart was corrupted with the same thoughts and feelings. And while your Maiar bodies remained focused on the battles and schemes – so unfamiliar with the carnal desires of the flesh – as you spent more and more time together and he shared with you his dream of forging the very special and powerful Rings, you could feel the strange and odd desire growing within you.

One day, you gave in to them.

You heard his screams of pain throughout the fortress like the ones back in the day when Morgoth had been shaping him to his whim and design. Now he was punishing him for one of his failures and your master’s wrath was undeniable.

Mairon was one of his best Lieutenants, therefore Morgoth expected from him the most.

And when the punishment ended, Mairon found himself knocking weakly upon the doors of your chambers. You opened them and gasped at the state of his flesh. He was too weak to heal himself fully, allowing the bruises to form and cuts to bleed.

You welcomed him and laid him down in your bed before tangling your limbs with his; his face buried in your chest as your fingers brushed his ginger hair and gently teased his pointy ears.

"My poor Mairon," you whispered and leaned in to place a kiss upon his temple.

He looked up at you with devotion.

Unlike you, he had been once Eru’s perfect creation – Mairon had been pure in his past, worshipping the Valar like he had been designed to. The Valar were no more in his heart but the devotion remained and you were the subject of it.

"Let me ease your pain," you spoke softly and caressed his cheek with your fingers, making the small cuts disappear as bruises began to fade away. He closed his eyes and sighed out of relief. "Where else can I aid you, my Mairon?" You asked as his eyelids fluttered and opened.

"Everywhere," he breathed out. "I need you everywhere, my Lady."

The odd desire you had been fighting within you for a long time now apparently was not one-sided. Perhaps a Maia fallen was a Maia burdened with such humiliating and carnal needs.

You rolled him over onto his back as you sat astride him with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. Maybe it was not a burden... Maybe it would be a new adventure, a new path to follow.

You got rid of his robes in a haste as his hands weakly caressed your thighs wherever they could reach under your dress. And once he was naked for you – under you – you felt like an animal, driven by the urges you could not stop.

That felt ungodly.

Your fingers curled on his chest, scratching the flesh and you watched your nails leave red trails upon his pale skin. Instead of healing him, you only added more to the pain but the pathetic whimpers leaving his mouth were not of suffering but of pleasure.

"Yours..." was all he gasped as your pupils widened even further. Yours... How good it felt to have him at your mercy.

You were like Morgoth himself now with Mairon laid out for you, eager for you to shape him the way you wished him to be.

And you loved to feel like Morgoth, to share at least a tiny bit of his power. The realisation was enough to make you feel the itch deep inside the heat of your core.

"Mine..." you nodded at Mairon and grasped his length to squeeze it, watching him wince as the flesh hardened under your touch.

You kept pumping him and observing all his sighs, eye rolls and the tremble of his thighs. His eyes filled with tears as he kept bravely staring up at you despite his vision getting blurry and hazy.

Your pace quickened and you used your free hand to caress his thighs gently as if you were trying to soothe them but it only caused them to tremble more while you watched his body giving in to your touch so eagerly and easily.

All of the sudden, just to tease him, you stopped your hand's rapid movements and squeezed the swollen tip. Mairon whined and bucked his hips desperately, the tip of his cock pulsating under your thumb. When you let go of him completely, he spilled himself with a groan and blushing cheeks as his hips kept rutting into nothing.

What a pathetic and yet delicious sight it was. You felt the wetness between your legs leaking down your thighs already.

“You're so fun to play with, my Mairon," you pointed out. "I wish our master allowed me to be the one responsible for your punishments."

"I wish that, too, my Lady," he breathed out, putting his hand on his chest, surprised to feel how fast his heart pounded.

"It is not over yet," you pouted. "You spoiled my fun by giving in to your desires so quickly."

You smirked and with one swift movement you took your dress off to throw it on the floor, revealing your naked form to him. You adjusted yourself and grabbed his cock once more, so swollen and sensitive, which caused Mairon to whimper. You lowered yourself slowly on his length, hissing at the new experience of feeling full.

Your eyes rolled all the way to the back as you threw your head and scratched Mairon's chest when you felt his cock hardening once more inside of you and brushing all the right spots that made you aware of pleasures of the flesh you had never even known of before.

"Divine," he breathed out and you rolled your hips slowly with a whine.

When you adjusted to the slightly burning feeling, your eyes opened with a sparkle of mischief as you began riding him – faster and faster with each given bounce, keeping your eye contact with him although his vision was too hazy to see you clearly.

It was like a trance and you lost track of time. The Maiar needed no rest, therefore it could have been days – maybe even weeks – spent on nothing else but fucking yourself on his cock, using him for your own, newlyfound pleasure; reaching your highs countless of times and beginning all over and over again until the matters much more important than indulging yourselves interrupted your blissful state.

"One day, there will be only the two of us," Mairon whispered into your ear as he watched you getting dressed in front of the mirror. "And we will not leave our chambers for a whole century."

"Would you leave your kingdom unattended for such a long time?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "I certainly would not," you added harshly and fixed your gown's corset one last time before leaving him behind inside your chambers as you walked out with your head held high and back straightened.

With an illusion of dignity that was supposed to hide the fact you had just spent long and endless days on worshipping Mairon’s flesh with nothing but pleasure and devotion as he had been only laying there and receiving and you had been the one to do all the work like he was the master you served.

After Morgoth's defeat, Mairon and you both were the only ones who could possibly become your master's successors for you were his most powerful Lieutenants.

Instead of starting a war between yourselves, you chose to create a pact of taking over Morgoth's legacy together as equals.

The holy bond of marriage was the most suitable way to seal this union for all eternity, especially when it seemed that you two shared the same goal and the same vision of healing Middle-earth and crafting it to fit your peaceful ideal.

The oath had nothing to do with the holy Valinor's customs. You used forbidden dark magic to bind you two together in perpetuity; mixing your black bloods together and drinking the cursed mixture from the cup as you exchanged the rings forged by Mairon himself with your aid; made of dark iron and with powerful spells engraved on them.

Adar was the master of your ceremony. He had stayed by your side after Morgoth's defeat and Mairon had promoted him to the rank of Lieutenant because you two needed smart and loyal people – especially if they had a whole army of the Orcs following their every order.

You could sense your marriage pact with Marion was making Adar a little uncomfortable. He was watching you carefully throughout the ceremony and also during the feast where he was sitting nearby.

Mairon's behaviour was surprising you a little. Never before he had been so open with the amount of his devotion towards you. And now, despite the audience of the Orcs and the fallen Elves, he was all over you, kissing your neck between the sweet nothings whispered into your pointed ear as his fingers intertwined with yours under the table to squeeze your hand.

He was like a dog, you thought, but you could not blame him. He had admired you from the very beginning of his service to Morgoth and now he had you as his spouse. You allowed him to enjoy himself because it was the day of your wedding.

For you, it was more of a transaction. You cared about Mairon to some extent and your flesh enjoyed to fuck his but there was nothing in this world that you would love more than power.

"My Lady, can we talk?" Adar approached you when you were left alone for a moment.

You looked up, surprised, but the seriousness of his expression was making it obvious that the matter was rather important.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" You asked him as you followed him to the dark corner of the room where you could hide in the shadows together.

"I am a bearer of the bad news, I am afraid," Adar started and you furrowed your brows.

"Did Elven armies find our fortress?" You asked.

"No. Not the bad news of this kind," he lowered his voice even more and he glanced at Mairon from the corner of his eye.

You looked at your husband, too. He was talking to some of the fallen Elves and his excitement was revealing that he probably discussed his plans for the future.

"Do continue," you nodded at Adar, looking back at him with curiosity.

"Mairon does not plan to share anything with you," he informed you. "He re-fired Morgoth's crown to fit himself."

Your blood turned cold at the revelation. Morgoth's crown was supposed to be melted and turned into two smaller but equal crowns. That was the deal between you and Mairon – two spouses, two crowns, two Rings, one kingdom.

You glanced once more at your husband. How innocent he seemed at the moment, how devoted to you. And yet…

Your own student outsmarted you in the art of cunning treachery, so it seemed. You gritted your teeth.

"How do you know?" You asked Adar just to make sure.

"I was there," he answered with a hint of smirk, knowing very well that his delay of bringing you the news created a new problem for you.

"And you are telling me this only now? After I am bound to him forever?" Your jaw clenched out of anger as you realised.

"I have been a loyal servant to your husband and it still pains me to betray him by telling you the truth but I must think of my children first and at this very feast I overheard his plans for the Uruk. I cannot let this happen," he revealed and you sighed. You knew what plans he was talking about.

Mairon had never considered the Orcs to be smart creatures, therefore he often was speaking freely and openly about what he planned to do with them or what he was thinking of them because he thought they would not even understand.

Perhaps they would not but their Lord Father would.

"I have never been fond of your children either, Adar," you reminded him.

"Yet you make a better ally than he. I know you can give up on enslaving the Uruk if I helped you to rule over Middle-earth with their army in return. Alone. A Queen with no King," he whispered and his tempting words sent a shiver down your spine.

After a very short moment of hesitation – which surprised you to exist at all – you nodded at Adar.

“Say no more,” you whispered.

And when Mairon informed you a few weeks after your wedding that he wanted to be crowned soon and that he wished for you to be the one to put Morgoth’s crown onto his head, you agreed with a sweet smile that should have made him realise how false it was. But he was too relieved with the fact that you seemed to have no problem at all with giving him the most important title, therefore he did not notice the coldness of your gaze.

"My dear," he kneeled in front of you while you were sitting on the edge of your bed and he held your hands softly in his as he leaned in to kiss them. "It brings me so much joy to know it will be you to lay the crown onto my head. I do not wish for anyone else to bless me for I would not be here if it was not for you."

"Indeed, my sweet Mairon," was all you said with a scolding gaze but, once again, he chose not to see it. “My King,” you added with irony – one more time the tone of your voice remained ignored.

Sometimes, he would use his illusions to fool even himself. And that very thing would turn out to be his demise.

“You will be my right hand, my Queen, my goddess,” he kept assuring you and kissing the palms of your hands as you kept gritting your teeth.

His right hand, he dared to say. You were supposed to be one body, one soul. His Queen and yet she would bear no crown – not the same as his at least. His goddess but his devotion was a lie. He loved power more than he loved you.

But you loved power more than you loved him as well, so it was only fair.

And how else could you repay for his betrayal if not with a betrayal in return?

You already had a whole plan formed with Adar and all you had to do now was to patiently wait for the day of the coronation. You truly hoped that Morgoth's crown was powerful enough to kill your husband, so he could exist no more and so would the bond of blood magic between you be broken forever.

You were wearing beautiful, matching robes with your husband and your only audience were the Orcs and Adar, who was holding Morgoth’s crown as Mairon decided to give a speech to his new army.

You couldn’t help yourself as you kept glancing at the re-fired and re-shaped crown with a bitter and sour expression. 

“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again. Morgoth is gone,” your husband announced to the Orcs. “Leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and you exchanged a meaningful look with Adar at the sight of Mairon’s fingers fidgeting nervously. “Under me. Your new master. Sauron.”

It should have been you. Giving the speech. Being crowned. And you would be. Soon. Very soon.

However, you loved the dramatics as much as your husband. And you would gladly allow him to make a fool out of himself first.

“And with a new age, I bring a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest. For I seek a new kind of power,” Mairon raised his right hand as he spoke, posing to be some sort of a sage sharing his wisdom. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will.”

The Orcs seemed to be content with his words and for that one thing you admired him, actually – the way he always knew what to say to make people follow him and be enamoured with his visions.

You knew that he did not care about what the Orcs wanted and the words he was using now were nothing but a temptation for them to obey his orders. But it was them he wanted enslaved, not the others. The others were meant to be healed.

“Many Orcs will die,” Mairon added and you felt Adar moving uncomfortably. The Orcs did not seem to be as happy as before and you could not blame them. You glanced at your husband with a raised eyebrow.

Sometimes, even the ones most graced with a gift of the golden speech, would say a sentence too many.

“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon smiled, excitedly and you rolled your eyes. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but he was overdoing himself, it was too much and the Orcs were not as stupid as he believed them to be.

You could sense their nervousness and you could hear their whispers in the Black Speech: “Sauron lies”.

It brought you lots of satisfaction as you smirked to yourself, however you had to hide that smile quickly because your husband’s eyes desperately seeked for yours. He needed your comfort and your encouragement, so pathetically. So desperate to prove his worth as he had always been.

You nodded at him with a sympathetic smile, playing a role of a dutiful and supportive wife.

“Doubt me at your peril,” he began once more but his voice slightly weakened as he did so and then he clasped his hands while his voice suddenly turned darker. He decided to use a different tactic. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.

Perhaps you were not as skilled as he was with your speeches but you knew that this was not the way to lure the Orcs. It was not the way to lure anyone. Mairon was losing control – even the fact his hands were clasped was only trying to hide how shaky they had become.

“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” he continued as the Orcs began to growl. In that moment, you were glad you had your pact with Adar, because otherwise you would not feel safe amongst them.

Suddenly, one of the Orcs standing closest to Mairon attacked him with his blade, making an assassination attempt. Your husband swiftly defended himself and slit his throat, for which you were glad.

You would kill that Orc yourself if he maimed Mairon before you could lay your hands on him. He was yours to slaughter.

As the creature dropped down to his knees and continued choking on his own blood, you watched Mairon pull the Orc even closer and watch his suffering with the same fascinated expression as you had used to watch him when he had been reshaped by Morgoth.

And then, he finished the assassin off with his own blade being put into the Orc’s skull. Over and over again as Adar flinched at the sight of his son being treated this way and the Orcs kept growling in anger.

And you, in that moment – for a short while – actually considered following your husband like you had once followed Morgoth. To forgive him his betrayal and to play along the role of a dutiful wife.

His cruelty spurred you on as you watched and watched, refusing to look away until the Orc’s body hit the floor and Mairon threw away the blade to fix his ginger hair that had gotten messy from the fight.

You could sense his frustration. His blood was now flowing in your veins just like yours was flowing in his.

“I am your only future and my path is your only path!” He yelled at the Orcs, fury and rage filling him whole and causing the veins of his face to fill up and swell with his thick and black blood.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly. The admiration you had felt not even a minute earlier was all gone now and once again you felt ashamed of your husband.

Morgoth had never yelled desperately like that to get respect. He had never threatened – not so openly. His very presence had been enough to follow him out of fear.

“Who among you dare say otherwise?” Mairon asked, more calmly now.

Soon, he would find out who exactly dared.

But so far, he still trusted you. He turned his head around and nodded at you, his eyes filled with faith.

You nodded back and took Morgoth’s crown from Adar’s hands. It was heavy and powerful as its dark magic vibrated from it all throughout your body when you carried it towards the crowd.

The Orcs were snarling at you when you raised your hands with the crown, not pleased at all that you were about to lay it upon your husband’s head.

“All Hail, Lord Sauron!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord.”

The Orcs hesitated but they followed what their Lord Father said.

“All hail!” They chanted and you walked away to your husband, who had just kneeled for you.

Like in the old days, before all the battles Morgoth had been sending him to. Mairon would kneel and you would bless him with your sword.

You raised your hands once more as a thrill of excitement went through your body. Mairon looked up at you through the crown placed above his head and you could spot the hint of doubt. Your bond worked both ways and he could sense something disturbing about you but you soothed him with a soft and fake smile.

Unsurely, he lowered his head once more and looked down, waiting for you to grace his head with the burden of the crown.

And the crown was a burden indeed. So full of dark and powerful magic that you knew already it was most certainly enough to kill a spirit like your husband.

You turned it around in a swift movement and lowered it with all your strength to stab him in the back of his neck as the crown’s poison infected his veins and made him move back out of the sudden pain.

You took the crown away from him and took a few steps back to stand next to Adar as the Orcs began screaming and approaching you all. Mairon’s eyes were full of surprise and disappointment and he kept them only on you as you graced him with the same soft smile you had been giving him for weeks now; for him to finally realise how false it was all this time.

“You could have kept your promise, my pet,” you told him in the Quenya language.

Your words angered him and he tried to stand up with his weakened limbs to fight you but in that very moment a group of Orcs attacked him all at once, stabbing his flesh continuously as you watched. He was making an attempt to fight them back and for the state he was in, he was truly doing well, but they were too many and he was alone.

And even if some part of you would truly mourn for your husband, the dark item in your hand with his blood dripping down on the floor from its iron spikes was enough to bring your mind back on the right path.

And as the Orcs kept stabbing his body, which was laying now in the puddle of dark and sticky blood, you raised the crown once more and put it on your own head, feeling Mairon’s blood dripping from it onto your face.

You licked your lips to get the taste. For the one last time you tasted him as you smirked.

You turned your head around to nod at Adar and he nodded back at you.

All hail the New Dark Lady.

MASTERLIST

[sanjoongie]

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒅

🍄Pairing: Fae Prince! San x Mushroom Guard! Reader

🍄Au: royal au, fantasy au, fae au

🍄Trope: prince/guard, power dynamic

🍄Genre: smut

🍄Rating: 18+, MDNI

🍄Warnings: descriptors of reader because you are a mushroom fae, dom! reader, sub! san, fear play, begging, making out, rutting/wet humping, degradation, verbal instruction, penetrative sex with no barrier, psychedelic sex (san got high from fucking a mushroom girl), consent before said high sex, pussy-drunk san, oral (f), hair tugging (m)

🍄Word Count: 4,259

🍄Summary: you were created for one sole purpose: to guard the nephew of the Unseelie King. Choi San was arrogantly confident that you would keep him from Death's Door; for if he died, so ended your life as well. But what you did not expect from your Fae Princeling was that he was just as dedicated to your body as you were his.

🍄Author's Note: happy birthday to the man that never fails to make me smile. your hard work and dedication to your craft and to make others around you happy never ceases to amaze me. Here's to your large heart (and even bigger tits)

San entered the ballroom with all the impudence of an arrogant Fae Prince. Nephew to the current King of the Unseelie, San was one of the most important Fae in the room. But he was also very much in danger. 

That’s how you came to be created. No allegiance could be sure, in the Fae realm, and even an oath binding could be wiggled out of with a few loophole words. So, life was breathed into you, as a mushroom. You were created in a woman’s image and your bond to San was that unlike any sworn servant. You see, your life was in San’s hand. You were created to be his loyal guard, and if he so happened to die, then your life would be taken from you as well. 

The whispers ran through the crowd like a wave retreating from the coast. Your deep russet hair, with random white spots and dull ivory skin had not been seen before. The simple rush of being the attention flushed through your body.

“Where did you dig up this beauty, San?” A bored voice drawled.

San ducked his head in greeting to multiple people but smirked towards the one asking this particular question. “From the dark, musky part of the forest.”

You scratched the back of your neck and turned your head to hide your flush. 

“Does she guard your body well?” Another asked.

Your sword whipped from its sheath by your side and wavered at the chest of the Fae who dared demand you did not complete your life's duty to the best of your ability. 

San pushed your sword down with two fingers, chuckling. It drew your sword down the body of the male fae, who looked a little turned on by it, if you were being honest. “Careful now, Wooyoung, that sword is poisonous.”

“Is your uncle really that worried about you?” 

San shrugged like he hadn't a care in the world. 

A spring dryad walked with an extra sway in her hip to your charge. You intercepted her immediately. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I was bid to entertain the prince,” The dryad responded, sending a gratuitous wink towards San.

You smiled but it was full of bitter recognition. “No one is allowed to come near the prince, dryad. Go find someone else to weakly hump.”

The dryad let out a loud ‘humph’, clearly insulted, and found a more receiving Fae Lady. 

San leaned into you from behind to whisper into your ear. “Jealous?”

“No one is touching you,” You insisted, keeping your face blank. 

San mingled during the ball but he did not ask for anyone’s hand to dance. He conversed and drank, spilling out anything that wasn’t approved by you. You ate and drank anything he consumed first, to make sure it wasn’t poisonous. You, of anyone, were the best at discovering if something was poisonous or not. 

But soon, your Fae Prince tired of socializing and was ready to leave the ball. It was truly sad that he was unable to attend the final waltz of the evening. He danced so well. You shook your head. This was no time to get your head full of images of San.

The quiet roar of the crowd fell behind the both of you as you left the ball. San’s smart shoes clicked rhythmically against the wood floor polished with age and use. You kept your ears and eyes open for any threats that thought they could take advantage of the early morning hours. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many eyes more interested in someone other than myself,” San said.

You scoffed at his statement. “Oh, you had plenty of eyes on you, My Lord.”

San cocked his head curiously, turning on his heel to look at you. “Did you want to squish those offending eyes with your fingers, Red?”

Your hand tightened on the grip of your sword. “My Lord,” you growled in warning.

San smiled impishly, playing with the black opal bracelet on his wrist. “But it's so fun to tease you!”

You jerked your chin in the direction of San’s rooms. “Shall we get to where it’s safe first and you can tease me all you want?”

San sighed wearily. “Fine, have it your way.”

A tiny bit of stress left your shoulders the minute you closed the door to the suite of rooms that were due to the Unseelie Fae King’s nephew. San did not move to his bedchambers nor did he begin to disrobe, like you had hoped. He was looking to wriggle under your skin with his words like a worm in a rotting apple. 

“I should have insisted you wear a more revealing dress,” San teased, his eyes alit with malicious merriment. “Perhaps that would have lured Yunho to caress that perk little bottom you were created with.”

“My Lord--”

“San, please, Red. We are in my rooms and you shall address me as I prefer. I am your lord, as you say.”

“San, your self destruction is almost an art.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Is it self destruction to--”

You gracefully swung your sword from its sheath and had the tip delicately touching San’s neck, just below his Adam's apple, in mere seconds. “--yes, it is.”

San held himself still, glancing down at the sword and then back to meet your eyes. “You can’t harm me.”

“Wrong,” You corrected him. “I cannot kill you.”

You leaned in slightly and a small cut bled immediately from San’s neck. You gasped when you felt a nick of pain on your neck. You reached up with your free hand to check and came back with black ooze. 

“See.” San smiled crookedly, revealing his canine teeth. “I told you, you can’t harm me.”

You twisted your lips in a grimace. Even your poison would have no effect; San consumed an antidote for your poison every day, for the sake of you simply being unable to harm him. You should have guessed that along with your lives being intertwined, you would be harmed when he was harmed as well. 

In a small fit of rage and rebellion, you whipped your sword in the air and then twirled it to sheath it. San opened his mouth as if to question the sudden embellishment of swordsmanship and then gasped when his decorative armor fell from his body. 

“It is time for you to go to sleep, little lordling,” You commanded. 

San slipped both his hands into the deep pockets of his satin pants. “Put me to sleep?”

You rubbed your face tiredly. “That, most definitely is not a part of my job.”

San stood there, topless, folding one arm behind his head while scratching the back of his neck. “I would like it to be.”

“I am supposed to be guarding you,” You growled. “I can’t do that if you’re inside of me.”

San sent you a boyish grin. “What better way to guard my body than to be as close as you can be?”

 You searched what you assumed was your heart, to see if this was the right choice in your path of your new life. You could feel your heartbeat but was it for the Fae Prince because if his heart withered, yours would go with it? Or was it because the roguishly handsome Lord really had grown on you enough to bed him?

San took a step forward, cautious of your abilities with your sword. He ran a finger along your bare shoulder. “You’re not even a little bit curious?”

“I didn’t have time to be curious,” You spat. 

This wasn’t the first time San had propositioned you. Nor would it be the last if you declined. He was adamantly vying for your body. Something about tonight was pushing you towards finally folding for him. 

“You’ve got time now,” San said. He walked around you, still trailing that finger along your skin. He was behind you now. “So how about it?”

He was temptation, with his muscles gleaming and the satin clinging to his legs. San knew that, you knew that. And of course you were curious. But was the risk worth it?

“If you ask me, I think it’ll only bind us even more,” San whispered, now on your other side. “You will have known me in my most intimate moment and will always be able to protect me.”

“I think someone had a little too much Fairy Wine, my lord,” you mused. 

“Nay.” San shook his head. “You would know me as a giggly fool if I had drunk truly. I am sober and looking to finally bring down your barriers, Red.”

“Want me desperate for you when typically I am reserved?” You mocked him.

San stood in front of you once again. His face was a combination of seriousness and lust. He put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you against him. You didn’t resist him. Your chest was pressed against his when he murmured, “Don’t our hearts beat as one? Shouldn’t we be connected in this final way?”

You tipped your head and kissed your sworn liege lord. His lips were soft and wet and when he sighed into your mouth, your tongue sought to tangle with his. San cupped the back of your head, tilting his head, and deepening the kiss. You allowed him to back you up to his bed and tumbled onto it with him. San managed, with his strength and grace as a Fae, to turn you around so that he hit the bed and didn’t even break the kiss.

You ate at his mouth like he was honey and you couldn't get enough of the sweet, sticky substance. You could feel your body tingling from the kisses but San was fairing much worse. When you broke the kiss, his tongue came out, chasing yours. He lied there, his pupils blown, looking like a panting dog. 

“San, are you quite alright?” You wondered. 

“You are like the sweetest, strongest brandy I have ever drunk.” San smiled lazily. 

You sat back. San appeared… he could not lie so he wasn’t drunk before you began to kiss. The situation was odd. 

Now that you sat back, however, you could not deny what was waiting for you under San’s satin pants. The Fae prince moaned lowly as your ass put pressure against his straining hard-on. His hands found your hips, and he held you in place, so he could grind up into you. “What will it take for you to let me slip inside of you?”

You frowned delicately. You petted your braid in thought. There was something off about this but you could not put your finger on it for the life of you. “Have you been taking your antidote potion regularly?”

“ ‘course I do. Don’t be silly.” He groaned as he pushed his cock between your lips, with only his satin pants as a barrier. He was ruining the garment but it didn’t seem like he cared at the present.

“Very well,” You shrugged. 

You grounded your lower half against San and his back arched off the bed. “Please,” he whimpered. 

“What do you want, San?” You said coolly. “Tell me and I may be able to fulfill your demand.”

San’s eyes widened, as if in an attempt to push off whatever stupor was pulling him in. Was he simply the type of man who became a slave to a cunt until he was satisfied. “Take me, take all of me, deep inside of you. I need to feel encompassed by you.”

“My sweet Fae prince,” You cooed mockingly. “All high and mighty because of his mushroom guard but the minute he gets behind closed doors, he’s a whining mess, rutting up into a pussy that’s always been denied to him.”

San pouted. “You’ll let me have it, right? You won’t let me lie here, begging, will you? Please, I’ll be good.”

You clucked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, moving your hips against San again. “Be good? You don’t know the meaning.”

San raised his hands from your hips and laid them on either side of his head, in abeyance to you. He even kept his eyes lowered but his Adam's apple was bobbing again. “I can try.”

You lifted your lower half up so that you could reach underneath you and yank San’s pants down. San gasped as the cool air suddenly hit his raging hard-on. You grasped his phallus immediately and began to run the head of him along your wet folds under your short copper dress. 

It was a test and San was struggling. His hands made tight fists and he bit hard on his lower lip. “Don’t you want to be inside of me, Sannie? What’s stopping you from…” You angled his cock to be flush with your hole. “...simply penetrating me with one sharp movement, San?”

San whined in the back of his throat. “I can be a good little Fae Prince for you.”

You let go of San’s cock, watching it slap his stomach satisfactorily. You rutted along the length, coating it in your slickness. You didn’t know which god or goddess San was praying to, but his lips moved fervently in silence. As if that would help him. 

You supposed he was taking his oath seriously. He was being good and hadn't attempted to take control since he said he would relinquish his power to you. Perhaps you could reward him.

You leaned down against San’s chest. He was sweating profusely, withholding back was taking a lot out of him. You ran a finger around the areola of his nipple. “Shall you show me what a good boy you can be?”

San nodded very quickly. “What do you need from me?”

“Flip us over and you may penetrate me. But!” You stopped your new lover. “You must go slowly. I want you to watch as every inch enters me.”

San licked his lips, wetting them once again. “And then?”

You chuckled. “Let’s see if you can do it first, Sannie.”

San had you flipped just as quickly as before, albeit slightly more clumsy. “You are the most beautiful mushroom lady I have ever had the pleasure of fucking.”

You snorted. “I am the only one of my kind, Choi San.”

“Still.” San grasped his dick with a soft gasp and then angled it between your open thighs. “You put the majority of the Fae Court to shame.”

You both groaned lowly as he finally pushed the head of his cock into your wet entrance. He pushed and pushed, and to be honest, it was a struggle for both of you. He was thick and seemed to fill you up perfectly.

“So! Wet!” San panted. “I--” he whined in the back of his throat. “Are we in the middle of a fairy ring?!”

Alarmed you had accidentally caused a growth of mushrooms, you looked wildly around but the room simply had San's minimal but expensive decorations; no mushroom in sight.

“San, are you sure--?!”

San completed sinking into you. He held himself aloft, his arm muscles moving as he shifted. He closed his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to focus on not jackhammering inside of you.

“Please? Queen of my desires? Let me plunge in your depths. I need to--I will die, surely, holding myself inside of you like this!” San pleaded.

You traced a finger along San’s collarbones. “You are so dangerously handsome.”

San swallowed loudly. “Dangerously handsome enough to fuck you so hard that you'll see stars?”

This fae princeling, this arrogant, untouchable man, was a puddle between your legs and you were becoming quite charmed by it. 

San blinked hard, clenching his eyes and shook his hair out of his face. The lines of his nose and jaw balanced out the soft curves of his lips. He really was gorgeous. 

“San,” You hummed softly. 

San opened his eyes and they were glossy with lust. “Red. I'm all yours. I've always been all yours. You're dedicated to keeping my body safe and I'm dedicated to yours.”

You pulled San closer, wrapping your arms behind his neck, and bringing him chest to chest to you. “Fuck me so hard I'll see stars,” You whispered into his ear.

A shudder went through San's body and then he tensed up so that he could pull back. “Better hold onto my arms,” he suggested.

The first thrust punched the air in your lungs out in a lusty cry. Your shoulders moved up the bed a full inch with the strength that San had thrusted into you. You immediately wrapped your hands around San's bicep to hold yourself in place. 

The cries didn't end as San fucked you hard. His thrusts were punctuated by a noise from you being thoroughly fucked, just as you had requested. You could hear the obscene slapping of skin against skin and the squishing of San’s cock against your wet entrance. It was debauchery at its finest and you couldn't find an ounce of you regretting it at this moment. 

San was a drooling mess in the crook of your neck even though his hips worked relentlessly between your legs. He whimpered and whined, pussy drunk inside of you. “So good, feels so good being inside of you, so wet, so tight, so good,” he babbled.

“San,” You said in a strained tone. “Remember, you are fucking me until I see stars, not the other way around.”

“I can… I can… I can be good…” San panted through his lust-filled mind. 

“Can you?” You groaned after a particularly hard thrust. “Can you put my needs before your own, you greedy princeling?”

“Can, can, can,” San chanted, even though he sounded like he was getting closer to his climax. 

You couldn't help but to sow a little chaos, considering how much chaos San had thrown your way this evening. “Are you going to come inside of me, Sannie?” 

San cried out and stilled his hips against you. “Nooooooo,” he lamented. “Why did you do that?”

“To see if I had that kind of power,” You admitted. You petted the back of his head in comfort. “But you were not a good little princeling, Sannie. You came before me.”

“It was so good,” San whined. “You can’t blame me!”

“I guess you’ll have to start over again,” You said flippantly.

San raised himself up so that he could look at you. He had the right amount of suspicion in his eyes as he said, “Start over again, how?”

Your fingers brushed some of his hair from his face that had stuck to his hairline from the sweat that was pouring off him. “Why, Sannie, you’ll have to clean up the mess you made inside of me and fuck me again.”

San’s eyes widened and you watched as he visibly slipped back into his subby headspace. “You want me to lick my cum from your pussy and then fuck you again?”

“Mmm,” You hummed. “Can you do that for me? Be a good little princeling and fix the mess you made? Do you want to be a good boy for me, Sannie?”

“Yes, please,” San murmured.

He immediately slid down your body and pressed his plush lips to your core that was aching for a release. You could feel his cum leaking from you and that’s how San began, licking your cunt diligently. And when he couldn't find any more cum to lick, he slowly stuck his tongue inside of you, looking for leftovers. 

“Yes, San,” You moaned. “Such a good boy for me. Put your tiny little tongue inside of me and make me feel something.”

San groaned against your cunt, and the richness of his baritone voice washed over you. You would have let him make you come with his tongue plowing inside of you but you were firm in teaching San that you were the one in charge and he needed to follow your directions. 

You pulled San’s head up by gripping his hair and tugging upwards. “Time’s up. Did you clean me up well?”

San’s appearance, with your slickness and remnants of his own cum all over his bronze face, was one for the record. He smiled lazily, looking like a cat caught drinking the cream. “You taste so good. Like a mushroom pastry. I could eat you up all day.”

You brushed some of the fluids from his pink lips with the pad of your thumb. “Shall I tell the other courtiers why you’re so busy? Can’t be bothered with any of the Fae politics or affairs, because you’d simply rather be between a mushroom guard’s thighs?”

San’s face flushed with pleasure and embarrassment. “If it pleases you.”

“Lie down, Little Princeling,” You commanded softly.

San did so, his body now horizontal to the bed. You finished pulling off his pants and discarded the soft copper-worked dress you had donned that evening. This moment of total dominance, of a bared soul, deserved flesh against flesh, heart against heart.

“I will ride you, my fair lord,” You declared. You set a knee on either side of San’s narrow hips. “I will take you within my cunt, dripping of my own desire and yours spent, and I will take exactly what I want from you. And you will lie there and give me everything, won’t you?”

San’s irises were round like saucers. He seemed unable to completely focus but he did respond. “I would pull the stars from the sky and string them along a chain for you, Red. Is that what you want? To show that the Fae Prince you guard is owned by his mushroom lover? I will do it. I would prostrate myself before my uncle and declare myself unfit to be next in line because I am simply a puppet to your--”

You put a finger to San’s lips and he quieted. “Do not speak of such a thing while you are between my legs, San. All your wits have gone out with your cum.”

San smiled dopily. “You make me this way, Heart.”

“Do not call to me fondly either,” You scolded him gently. “This should not cross from lust to love.”

“Then I will simply have to work harder for your love,” San sighed dreamily. 

You laughed under your breath. There really was no stopping this man once he got something in his head. “Let us start with this,” You said as you angled his cockhead to your entrance. 

San began to babble once again while your body struggled to adjust to his girth. “Why must you squeeze me so tightly? It is as if you would eat me whole with your cunt!”

You laughed in amusement, voice tight with your own withheld struggles. “If you were a mortal and I, a simple mushroom, it would be so, would it not?”

San groaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with pleasure as you took him full-hilt inside of you. “You make me come undone, Red.”

You moved your hips, watching San intake sharply at the sudden movement. “I quite like it this way.”

San part moaned and part laughed. “You’ll drive me mad with lust. Can I touch you?”

“You may,” You allowed with a small dip of your head. 

San’s hands smoothed up your thighs, over your hips, and then they encompassed your waist, thumbs skimming your rib bones. Finally they rested just below your breasts, looking to cup them both. “I wish to sink into you every morning and every evening, sometimes in between.”

You bounced slightly, enjoying the way San’s eyes were eating you up. His hands held your breasts in place as you slowly began to build some pleasure between the two of you. “Perhaps I’ll allow it, Sannie. But only if you’re good.”

San licked his lips slowly. “I can be real good to you, Red.”

“So far you’ve only been a spoiled princeling, taking what he wanted and giving nothing back,” You reminded him.

San pursed his lips in thought. “Only--!” He paused to gasp at the pleasure luring his mind away from reality. “--only you do this to me. I am a skilled lover. I have made others weep. Please, I can prove myself a second time. You are--there is something about you that drives all the edges of my brain to soft, unending, blurred lines.”

“But you know enough that it is me you are inside,” You joked.

San sat up suddenly, more serious than you had seen him all night. His eyes traveled over the planes of your face. “Nothing could make me forget you.”

And so you rode San like this, chest to chest, heart to heart, eye to eye. You drank in every gasp and whine that left his pretty lips. San ran his fingers up and down your bare back. And finally when your orgasm overwhelmed you, breaking over you like a wave over a cliff, he kissed you with his mouth slanted over yours, determined to feed from your noises. 

You were both spent but you realized that regardless of the energy, neither of you were looking to be separated from each other, even when San’s cock softened and your wetness leaked out. He continued to keep you in his arms and you found yourself tracing the sharp planes of his face. There was something new between you; but you didn’t have a name for it yet. It was pleasant and that would suffice for now.

[butter-bubbles]

Why Not Making Byler Canon Would be a Massive Mistake...

Okay, so clearly the Byler brainrot has been getting to me. But this post will be about how Byler would fundamentally improve Mike (and Will's) characters, and making them canon would be an insanely easy way for the Duffer brothers to prove their masters in story crafting and writing.

Unlike a lot of people on this sub, I'm not one to believe Mike was secretly in love with Will the whole time and was using El as his beard to conceal being gay. I think there's enough evidence to prove that he was in love with El, probably for all/most of S3. I'm also not one to just ship two guys because I'm a "teen girl who likes f*tishizing MLM" like a lot of (honestly mainly misogynistic) believe.

I ship them for one simply reason: Mike, especially, becomes an infinitely more interesting, complex, and likeable character by doing so. I loved S1 and S2 Mike, and was so deeply invested in his character, his eventual reunion with Eleven, and his friendship with Will when I was younger.

And I never understood what happened to Mike between S2 and S3. Being a good friend was his defining trait of S1/2, so what happened that made him such a selfish and self-absorbed character? It never made any sense to me, and I just chalked it up to him being a cringy preteen.

But no one else has trouble maintaining a relationship and their own sense of identity/selfhood, even the other preteens on the show. Hell, El's whole arc is about moving away from this sense of dependence on others for her identity.

Now I don't think he was secretly in love with Will the whole time; there's just not enough evidence to say that he wasn't in love with El (atp) and I do think his feelings were genuine. What there is evidence for is that he fused his identity/self with being El's boyfriend, to the detriment of his friends, his girlfriend, and ultimately himself. He could think of nothing and no one outside of El, which is age appropriate but also deeply unhealthy.

There's also evidence to suggest that he feels playing with his friends and otherwise indulging in hobbies/anything outside of his girlfriend is a "kid" thing based on his fight with Will. In fact, he intentionally distances himself from Will, which to me indicates that he viewed Will as "childish" and too far from heternormative boyhood to fully indulge in a friendship with.

At the end of S3, we see the infamous awkward make-out session that was one of the first indications that Byler could be real to me. Because it just didn't make sense to me; I get struggling to say I love you, especially for an adolescent boy (even if they really mean it), but after El affirms her feelings shouldn't he look happy? Instead, he's just confused.

In S4, I believe that this is when Mike really begins to fall for Will (without even knowing it). He's so obviously jealous over who the painting is for, which just doesn't have a heterosexual explanation; he's paying close attention to Will when he should notice his girlfriend's struggling; he, for some reason, is still having issues with saying I love you even though there's been no explanation for why he can't; all he does is fight with El and seems more "in love" with (the idea of) her when she's absent.

I think what's happening here is he's realizing that everything he wants in his relationship with El, he gets from Will. Self-assurance: emotional intimacy: mutual understanding: and especially a need for him that validates his protective instincts. And I don't think he's even conscious of it, but he just can't hide it from his face (or his actions) at all.

I've been on the fence about canon-Byler because of David Harbour's comment about Mileven being firmly at the forefront of S5 and that moment in S4 at the pizza parlour where Mike almost confesses to loving El, which seemed incredibly sincere. And ultimately, I still don't know if they have any chance in S5.

But what I do know is that Mike and Will complement each other the most out of anyone in the show. They can complete one another, recontextualize all of Mike's incongruous behavior, and illustrate that the Duffer brothers are thinking about their story beyond basic (and outdated) tropes about teenage boyhood and douchey male behavior that emerges post-puberty.

So even if Byler never becomes canon, I will maintain that they would be one of the best things to happen to Stranger Things. I'd be content with another love interest being introduced for Will, but I honestly don't think anyone else could do this much for the writing and story as making Byler canon (at least not in a single season). Only time will tell.

[yaekiss]

*crawls in here again* hi qi! for #mailroom open, I'm sending my letter to yan!zhongli. I'll take any gender neutral/masc nicknames, and I'm writing in meme 2. oh, and nsfw reply please lkjhdfg cheers to 400!

My dearest, Zhongli

I'm writing to you under the moonlight of Sumeru. There's... as much to say as the forest is vast. On my travel to the city, a kind forest ranger had given me directions to lodge with a pair of men while I stay. They remind me of you, actually, if you were split in two. They're both quite knowledgeable, being alumni from the Akademiya, but one has a more calm temper like yours, and the other has more refined taste.

I've had a lot of fun here for the time being, but I miss you so. I must be transparent... I may have partaken in some drinks in their company once, a delicate, local vintage. Please forgive me my darling, you must know I'm prisoner to your heart. I wasn't in a clear state of mind as I... kissed them. That's as far as it went, I promise.

I'm sorry to end this on a sour note. And I'm deeply sorry for my actions. My precious, I'll do anything to show you you're the only one for me. All you need is ask.

Awaiting to be in your arms again, your Andi.

(along with the letter is a bouquet of Sumeru roses wrapped in paper and pink ribbon and a pair of handcuffs)

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! Top! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Zhongli, no gendered terms for reader, reader can be read as having a cock or a strap, polycule/polyamory (Zhongli, Alhaitham, and Kaveh are all mentioned in this), small mention of aphrodisiac but not used, possessiveness and unhealthy relationships, worshipping (reader receiving), biting (Zhongli receiving), snowballing, handcuffs (not used on reader), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: I think you better check the contents of your box before bringing it back up to your room. I got some troubling reports from the staff in the mailroom... Tell me if anything is off, I'll be at the counter! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

A not-too-hefty box is passed to you in the hotel lobby when you return to rest for the night. Asked kindly by the staff to double-check its contents, you settle down on a nearby lounge chair before opening it up to inspect what’s inside.

You find a Liyuean tea set, fit for a group of four, the colour of the teaware a beautiful earthy brown, reminiscent of your dearest back in Liyue. In the hotel lighting, light bounces off the surface of the teacup you’re cradling in your hands and reveals an underlying pattern of sheer golden dragon scales. A breath. Oh. He crafted this himself.

Setting the cup back into its cushioned groove in the box, you pick up a sealed bag of tea leaves. Zhongli was the one to introduce you to mixing different types of teas to create a layered taste that you couldn’t find anywhere else. No one else knew your tastes quite like he did, always so frustratingly addictive. You read the attached tag, “An aphrodisiac blend of tea leaves, so I am not the only one left wanting.” That sly dragon, desiring you carnally even miles away.

Of course, no gift from Zhongli is complete without a letter. It’s a little strange that the envelope is not sealed properly, terribly unlike your lover to flub up. But he does seem to always forget to bring his wallet around, perhaps a mindless slip. You know how excited he gets when it comes to matters concerning you, so you chalk it up to enthusiastic forgetfulness.

After removing the letter from the box, you gently close the lid. His letter is written on paper with a stunning gold trim, one he reserves only for letters to you. The words are evenly spaced out, neat, pleasing to the eye (and maybe looking at his handwriting feels a little like coming home). His letter reads: 

“In loving correspondence to my heavenly pearl,

First of all, it is simply wonderful to hear from you again, my pearl. It puts my mind at ease to know that you are still here, present, on Teyvat with me. I know not what I would do if I never heard back from you, I have lost too much, I cannot lose you too… Forgive me for being direct, it must be the aching longing to see you again.

Moving on, I suppose we must address the issue which you deem so pressing. I am sure you will be delighted to hear that I am no stranger to the concept of having multiple lovers, for you are simply just that magnetic, my pearl. This dragon has learnt to be more than generous over the countless millennia I have existed.

(The handwriting seems to get a little more compacted together starting from here, as if he’s growing increasingly frenzied the more he writes.) However, when it comes to you, I wish to be a little selfish. I’d love you to love me, most. I am willing to share but let the two see that only I can please you, that I was the first to capture your heart. Perhaps, if you allowed it, I could even restrain their hands as they watch on at the sight of you pounding into me, marking me up with bites that leave lasting marks. All while I can only hazily mutter out my reverent devotion towards you. How charming you must be, to have an archon grovelling at your feet. But my pearl, you deserve all of me and more.

Would you let me service you, pleasing you until you finish on my forked tongue, before I snake my way over to the two scholars, kissing the both of them? The only way they could ever taste you is through me alone. In my presence at least. Imagine how they would writhe and beg for you in their cuffs, their hard cocks straining against the fabric of their pants, yet they are unable to do anything about it, so pitifully close yet so far. You might call me sadistic, but the thought excites you, no?

(The handwriting returns to its usual normal spacing and formatting at the start of the letter.) …It seems that I have gotten too worked up, I shall leave my response at this. When you return, do bring your two loverboys in tow, yes? I look forward to meeting them.

Utterly yours,

- Zhongli -”

“Thought we’d find you here! What do you have there?” Kaveh’s voice rings out from before you. Looking up, Alhaitham and Kaveh greet you. Kaveh sports a blinding smile while Alhaitham’s face, although appearing neutral, radiates a sort of softness towards you.

“A reply from my lover in Liyue after I sent them a love letter recently.” Your eyes roving over Zhongli’s words in your hands again, you miss the way their eyebrows pinch slightly at how tenderly the words “love letter” rolled off your tongue. 

“Is it the one with the brown tea set?” There’s a tinge of… something in Kaveh’s voice. 

“Yes, he did send me a lovely-” Your mind stills. You’ve never mentioned anything about a tea set yet. The box is closed. The envelope was strangely open when you first took it out.

Your gaze snaps up to them, and they share a conspiratory glance before Alhaitham leans in, whispering lowly next to your ear.

“Kaveh and I were simply thinking we could get a… headstart on showing how much we want to worship you, our prince.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[matrixbearer2024]

Different

The doctor has an epiphany while on a lunch date with a variant of Bill, perhaps not all Bills are as bad as he thought they were.

Aka some Billford shenanigans from my time lord twins AU, not necessarily canon to Doctor!Ford’s lore or original timeline but you could consider this part of a sub-AU given the multiverse and whatnot.

Witch Bill Cipher belongs to @the-triangle-witch!

I missed writing Billford and frankly I need to put more content out for this AU and I might work on some fiddauthor dynamic next if anything.

“You’re different.”

The words slipped from my lips, unbidden, like a sudden ripple breaking the placid surface of a pond. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the ambient hum of birdsong and the rustle of distant leaves filling the gap my voice left behind. I hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but once it was out, there was no taking it back. The figure sitting beside me froze momentarily, startled, before turning to face me with a wide, golden eye that shimmered with curiosity.

“Different? I hope that isn’t a bad thing.” 

The witch replied, his voice laced with a nervous lilt. His expression held a peculiar mixture of flattery and apprehension, his delicate fingers hovering over a plate of baked goods he had so proudly prepared.

It wasn’t a bad thing. Not at all. But how could I explain that?

The picnic blanket beneath us was a soft patchwork of colors, spread across a meadow that seemed almost too idyllic to be real. The gentle sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees above, dappling the ground in patterns of golden light and shadow. The air was sweet with the scent of wildflowers, a breeze carrying whispers of distant pollen. Everything about this moment was serene. Everything about him was peaceful. And yet, I couldn’t shake the jarring contrast of what I knew him to be— or at least, what I had known of others like him.

This was different.

“It isn’t.” 

I finally managed to say, my voice steady despite the chaotic storm of thoughts raging in my mind. A torrential wave stirring from the dissonance between the hell of back then and the idyllic now.

He was seated beside me, a variant of Bill Cipher so radically unlike the malevolent demon who once ruled my nightmares. His form shimmered with quiet power, a witch who weaved illusions and magic not to deceive but to inspire. His laughter wasn’t laced with venom but with an almost childlike wonder that felt alien to me.

This Bill was warm. Gentle. Earnest.

It was strange how his presence stirred something uncomfortably familiar in me— a sense of cautious hope. I wanted to believe it, yet some part of me reeled against the idea, persistently screaming that it was a trap. A lifetime of scars didn’t vanish just because this variant smiled instead of sneered.

But he was different.

“It’s a good thing.” 

I added, almost absently. My gaze drifted to the journal open in my lap, its pages filled with intricate pen strokes of everything I had observed about him. The flick of his hands as he conjured his magic, the way his gaze lit up when he spoke of his craft, the tilt of his head when he listened. Each line on the page felt like an attempt to anchor the impossible.

His magic wasn’t destruction. It was life. Stories. Dreams. He created beauty, and for the life of me, I couldn’t reconcile that with the horrors I had once endured.

He was so profoundly different.

“Doctor?” 

His voice pulled me back, soft yet insistent. I looked up to find him staring at me, his edges of his eye quirked upwards in a small, knowing smile. 

“You’ve been staring again.”

A chuckle escaped me before I could stop it, the sound awkwardly foreign even to my own ears. 

“Ah… my apologies. I was lost in thought.”

The giggle that followed was so unguarded, so light, that it made my chest ache. This Bill’s laughter wasn’t the cackling mockery that haunted my memories— it was kind. Innocent. It wasn’t the laugh of a demon reveling in chaos but of a soul at peace with himself.

It was different.

“Good thoughts, I hope.” 

He teased, plucking a dainty pastry from the platter and nibbling on it delicately. The crumbs caught in the corners of his lips, and for a fleeting moment, he looked more human than any iteration of Bill I had ever known.

I nodded, the words I wanted to say at the moment eluding me as if a game of tag. They were just barely out of reach.

“Very good.”

I wasn’t lying. For once, my thoughts didn’t feel like a prison. They didn’t spiral into dark recesses of regret or rage. They lingered here, in this moment, with him. It scared me how much I enjoyed it, how desperately I wanted to preserve this fragile peace.

“Okay, are you going to keep watching, pretty boy, or are you going to eat?”

The nickname caught me off guard, and I felt a warmth creep up my neck. My lips quirked into a grin despite myself. This Bill had a knack for disarming me in ways I didn’t fully understand.

“Of course, my muse.” 

I replied, the words slipping out before I could think twice. The effect was immediate— his cheeks flushed a brilliant red, and he ducked his head, trying to hide his reaction behind his manicured hands.

It was so different.

I closed my beloved journal with a soft snap, setting it aside with my pen. I could draw and write later. Right now, this moment deserved my full attention. This Bill deserved my full attention.

This Bill was different, I couldn’t deny that. 

But it was the kind of different I don't think I really mind.

Hope you guys enjoyed! Send me other Bills to write or draw about in my askbox, have fun!

Can also be found on Ao3 here!

[iwontusethis255]

ISAT CRAFT STUDY

(disclaimer most of this is headcanon/hypothesis, and all of it is spoilers)

MAGIC CIRCLE

i like it

bUT theres logic to every little thing for it

lets take it from the top

wish craft (top) and time craft (bottom) have symbols

wish craft is crossing fingers, it just makes sense

time craft is a grasping hand

look familiar?

meanwhile, the main 3 crafts have an additional sub-craft system

Rock has body craft, which focuses on changing a body, like the king getting bigger, because "the body is a temple" and "blood from a stone" etc

Paper has forming craft, which focuses on changing an object, like making the statues move), because paper is commonly used for art

Scissors has heal craft, which focuses on reforming things, like a heal skill, because the two party members who can heal (not counting bonnie bc they just use food) is scissors type, also smth smth surgery

and Stat change skills are a sort of non craft specific ability, hence the symbols being near the wish and time symbols, as theyre "neutral" in the triangle

CRAFT SCENTS

we all know wish craft smells like sugar, but what of the others?

well rock smells like rocks, paper smells like wood, and scissors smells like metal, which is mentioned offhandedly in one convo in game.

but what about time craft?

it smells like ash/burning

thats why siffrins intense usage of both time and wish craft makes the smell of BURNT sugar specifically, theres been plenty mentions of just the sugar smell, but only when time is also involved is the burning smell there

theoretically time/rock would smell like lava, time/paper would smell like a forest fire, and time/scissors would smell like burning metal

BUT WAIT

rocks, wood, metal, fire

where has that been heard before?

ELEMENTAL TIE INS

(ignore the arrows, they arent relevent for this)

Rock is associated with earth

Paper is associated with wood

Scissors is associated with metal

these are all common elements that are used in civilization as materials

Time is associated with fire

the burning smell, and the fact it theoretically kills the user

by that logic

Wish is associated with water

which makes sense, as cane sugar, the described smell, grows in/near water, not to mention the 2/3 people who properly know how to use it are from the forgotten TROPICAL ISLAND

Water and Fire are not commonly harnessed in fantasy olden times or even real olden times, moreso just moved/affected, just like time and wish craft, unlike wood and metal and earth which are commanly used for tools and archetechture, much like the main 3 craft types

ok thats all the thoughts i have but this is a pretty damn good headcanon thing

[asgoodeasgold]

Freud's Last Session - my review

I finally got to watch Freud's Last Session after being immersed in this film and talking about it for over a year! I loved it, it is beautiful 💗

Both actors did a magnificient turn. Matthew was truly mesmerising, his presence filled the whole screen and he conveyed such an incredible and nuanced range of emotions. You could read his face like a book, no words necessary. And when he did talk, the cadence and timbre (😉) of his voice was enthralling.

He said in interviews he wanted above all to convey C. S. Lewis's humanity and boy did he nail that. Kindness and compassion truly emanated from his character's every pore. I wanted to see more of his Lewis 💗💗.

Unlike some reviewers, I really enjoyed the flashbacks as I thought they added to the characters and understanding of their journey. But for me the sub plot with Anna and her friend was a bit drawn out and detracted from what was going on with the two main characters (although beautifully acted and an interesting story on its own merit).

As for the main show, the two giants Freud and Lweis talking to each other, that was amazing and I could also have had more. However, I felt the dialogue was quite fast-paced and I now want to read the script and watch the film again so that I fully absorb what they were saying. I deliberately watched without subtitles (I always need subtitles lol) so that I could just soak up the film through first impressions.

The cinematography by Ben Smithard was stunning, particularly the play of light and dark (chiaroscuro, one of my favourite things 😁). The losing of light as the day progessed (with the sound of the rain pattering outside)  beautifully conveyed the passing of time, Freud and Lewis getting absorbed into their talk, their growing intimacy and the momentousness of their day together. And the woodland scenes with Lewis were truly magical.

The set design by Luciana Arrighi, particulary Freud's meticulously recreated office) was astounding in its detail and beauty. The opening sequence and panning shot of Freud's antique objects was so gorgeous.

Congratulations to all involved, a beautifully  crafted film.

I will be posting edits from the film but will try and keep them spoiler-free until most of us have seen it.

📷 Freud's Last Session, Sony Pictures Classics, my edit

[steppingonyourshadow]

Complete Q&A from GQ February 2024

On acting

GQ: When did you decide you wanted to be an actor?

XZ: When the public began to pay more and more attention to me, I thought, why not me? I feel like I can do it.

Sometimes I'd waver and think, it's so difficult, why can't I do it properly? For example, with dialogue. Why isn't my delivery good enough, why can't I compete with others? Just because I'm a Southerner? I doubt it. Then I'd think, how can I improve? I can do it, let's just try.

GQ: In your opinion, what is the professional standard required of an actor?

XZ: Firstly, you have to master the craft. This is inescapable, you might not be from a professionally trained background, but you have to have the ability. That's what I want to achieve, and it's also what I'm currently working on. I'm not there yet, there's still some way to go.

After that, attitude is very important, as is whether you're passionate about it. Only seeing it as a job is entirely different from really being in love with it. If you only see it as a job, you might not be able to take it very far. But if you're passionate about it, it'll make you cry, and laugh, and may become the force that allows you to carry on.

And a strong physique (laughs), when I was in my twenties it was fine, now if I do an all-nighter I get really tired. That's the terrible truth. Being physically strong is really important, that's your foundation.

GQ: Which part or show made you feel you had earned approval?

XZ: The earliest was during The Wolf, I was under a lot of pressure then, my acting coach gave me lots of suggestions and guidance, and every single day I'd end up changing the way I did it. I was lost. After getting through that, I realised I'd grown from the experience, and was gradually getting the hang of it, and from then on I've gone on bit by bit. It's a cumulative process.

I feel like I haven't done enough, compared to some of my seniors. When they were in their 30s they already had tons of credits. I still don't have enough work out, I haven't accumulated enough.

GQ: Do you feel a sense of urgency?

XZ: Yeah, because I think (improvement) is a process of accumulation. It's impossible to make a giant leap with one show, that's unlikely for me. So I have to keep acting nonstop, but they have to be high quality works, rather than just wasting myself.

GQ: What were the considerations behind having three shows broadcast in 2023 that ranged from guzhuang to period drama to contemporary urban drama?

XZ: Actually there wasn't much consideration, it happened naturally. I don't deliberately avoid genres I've already done, it all depends on the script. Whatever script I get given, if I'm drawn to it, I'll choose it, it's just a coincidence that it was all material I hadn't done before.

GQ: Would you get tired of doing guzhuang all the time?

XZ: Guzhuang has many sub-genres. There's no real distinction between guzhuang and modern dramas - it's just putting on a wig and a different set of clothes, the core is the same, the only difference is the outer layer.

GQ: Do you follow your shows as they air?

XZ: Not on a daily basis, but I do watch. I'll pick out the scenes I particularly care about and pay special attention to those, as a way of critiquing my own work.

GQ: Do you have the audience commentary on?

XZ: I used to, it was fun to laugh along with everyone else, but these days I won't.

GQ: What kind of role do you want to play now?

XZ: If I can choose, of course I'd love to try something I haven't done yet. I need a sense of novelty - if you had to do the same thing every day, you'd get sick of it too.

GQ: What kind of actor do you want to be?

XZ: The kind that the audience likes.

GQ: Haven't you already achieved "being liked"?

XZ: No, no, not nearly enough. I thought about whether I wanted to be the kind of actor known for their unique characteristics, or one that an audience is instantly drawn to. At the moment I want to be an actor the audience is fond of. They might not be fans of yours, or even feel very positive toward you, but when they know you have a show on, they think, maybe I should check it out, his shows are all pretty good. That’s what I want, that’s my current goal. Whether I can reach the level of the actors I admire, that’s a long road, I’m going to take my time.

GQ: Who are the actors you like?

XZ: There are many, for example Zhou Xun has always been an actor I really like. I watched her most recent movie (Across the Furious Sea), it's brilliant.

GQ: What career plans do you have for 2024?

On life

XZ: Make more shows, work with more good people, that’s the current goal. I’m not thinking about the rest right now.

GQ: Does social media noise bother you?

XZ: It doesn't. If I still let it get to me after all this time, what kind of life would I live? (laughs) It's really not a big deal. So long as I'm clear about what I'm doing, it's fine. Every time you make a choice, you have to have a clear understanding of what you're doing, what you have to give up, and what you want to achieve. So it's fine. It's probably more of a bother for my crew.

GQ: Has it not affected your private life?

XZ: I live an extremely normal life. I can go for a bike ride or a walk. When you're on the street, no one actually cares who you are. It's really not like you imagine, I can walk around freely.

GQ: Is this kind of time an escape for you?

XZ: More a time to relax. Why would I need to escape? I live in this world too, where would I escape to? This is my life, I live it just the same as everyone else. There are so many things I really want to do, like take the crowded subway, wander around a mall, like I used to when I was a student. Maybe I will.

GQ: Do you miss the life of an ordinary person?

On personality

XZ: I don't miss it. I just think that's what I should do, being grounded. I really will get on a crowded subway car, maybe tomorrow, that's just normal. I used to do it every day. There's really not much I can't do. What are you going to do if you see me? We'd say hi and then be on our way. I just don't want to create disturbances, make trouble, or cause any negative repercussions.

GQ: You haven't been on any variety shows the past few years. Was that a deliberate choice?

XZ: It's because I'm not a good fit for it. With my personality, variety shows are too much. I'd constantly be trying to take care of everyone else's feelings, it would be really tiring. Since I know that's what it would be like, it's better not to do it at all.

GQ: What did you initially enter the industry for?

XZ: Honestly, I stumbled my way in totally inexplicably with no idea of what I was doing. I used to watch interviews with contestants who had placed high on survival shows, and they'd ask, how did you get here? The contestant would say, I came to the audition to keep my friend company, but my friend didn't get through and I did. When I was a kid, that kind of thing seemed very far away, but it really happened to me. Pretty wild. I entered a survival show, and now we're here. That's it. Life really is very strange and marvelous.

GQ: What's something about the industry you couldn't have thought of?

XZ: Not being able to eat whatever I want is really cruel. When I saw that one of my high school classmates had a kid already and had let themselves go a bit, I'd sigh - I want to eat freely like that too. Their lives make me think that if I hadn't chosen this road back then, maybe I'd be the same, constantly having to attend work functions, pulling all-nighters to get designs done. You can't imagine how rough it is in the graphic design industry, but that's just life, there's nothing to be done about it.

GQ: How has choosing this path changed you?

XZ: I probably have a lot less life experience. My classmates have all far surpassed me in this respect. All their experiences are of actual events, with no cameras on them, no lights, just their real life.

GQ: Are you an emotionally stable person?

XZ: Re-la-ti-ve-ly stable. But I become very unstable when something impacts my bottom line.

GQ: Like what?

XZ: That is...I can't say, haha. Like when something inexplicable happens, I'd feel like, what are you doing? Or when something a normal person wouldn't do happens, I'd get really pissed. Like privacy issues. Once it breaches my bottom line, I go nuts. Everyone has their own boundaries. Some people don't have a good sense of propriety, and I stay far away from them. But if someone pushes against my boundaries over and over and it violates my bottom line, I get very angry.

GQ: You once said that you have a very staunch side. What were you referring to?

XZ: Principle. I'm a very stubborn person, if I insist on something, if I think it's right, then it's very hard to convince me otherwise.

For example, I want to be an actor. I don't want to do anything other than acting. If you try to force me, then let’s have the debate. There’s no such thing as right and wrong, my crew are only looking out for me, isn’t it positive to have so much work? But for me, I need to simplify my life. Because there are some things I definitely don’t want.

GQ: Do you have a perfectionist side?

XZ: I just want to do it well, to the best of my ability. Maybe the result won't be ideal, but what's to be done about that? I can only do that much.

GQ: Can you accept failure?

XZ: I can. A few years ago, maybe I couldn't. But the 32 year old Xiao Zhan has learned to accept it (laugh).

[youcouldmakealife]

wait, sorry, more questions! thinking about jared "my perspective is soooo objective and not at all biased or limited ever why are you guys laughing?" matheson has me wondering about unreliable narrators in the ycmal-verse in general (mostly because it's a particular favourite literary device of mine and i think you use it so well in basically all of your writing)

i'm curious how you would rank your protags in terms of like, least to most unreliable in their own narration; are there sub-categories of 'unreliable' you would apply to different characters? also wondering who you would say is the most subtle in their unreliability/if you've noticed readers accepting certain perspectives more readily or without question?

They're all fucking liars. Every last one of 'em. Even if they're only lying to themselves.

Except Gabe. Gabe has blind spots, but he continues to be my most reliable son. (Dan also tries to be honest, but he misses more than Gabe does, and knows himself less.)

I don't have a scale, per se, but there's definitely an interesting thing where some characters are believed more than others when they're all blinkered narratives in their way. Everyone knows say, Mike and David are not being honest -- they'll both straight up lie in their narratives -- but others get taken at face value more, even though they're no more reliable.

Jared gets believed a lot, actually, far more than someone who basically goes 'unless this matters to me personally I'm throwing it right out of my narrative'. What are your teammates' names, Jared Matheson. Would you even remember the name of your sister's boyfriend if he wasn't one of your best friends.

Roman got believed more than Harry but I think people trusted Harry more, oddly. (Maybe not oddly: Harry acknowledges his own faults up front so you don't have to! But this is a dude who not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES got smacked in the face with 'I find this person really annoying I guess I hate them? ...aw fuck wait I wanna kiss them'). Joey straight up doesn't use quotation marks at points because he hasn't acknowledged that his internal monologue's left his head. He's so untrustworthy even the punctuation is a lie. Georgie, like Jared, is very precise in what he includes, but unlike Jared, that's less 'I noticed nothing else' and more 'I am omitting this'. It's not any more or less reliable, really -- the difference is that with Georgie, there's a narrative being crafted in his own head. (Robbie does the same thing, though I'd say he's a less reliable narrator than Georgie is, particularly pre-Saul, due to him shoving everything into a drawer to compartmentalize and then slamming it shut.)

And it's fun writing James and Holden because every time Holden talks people waver, and then every time James talks they waver right back. Both of them are honest in their way! Neither of them would give you a proper narrative on their own, though -- cards on the table is intimately tied up in how imprecise and flawed communication can be, and the way their perspectives bounce off one another as much as they connect is a big part of that.

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 793

When people talk about pacing in games, it’s often the rate in which the player can progress through the game. This is especially true for games that have a level up system or where the player has to fulfil certain requirements before something else in the game can be unlocked.

It’s very rarely, if ever, used in reference to how much a player plays the game on a daily or weekly basis. This is not surprising as games that have tried to limit a player’s ability to play the game have been met with attempts to override said restrictions. The best examples are Animal Crossing and Cozy Grove, where the games are designed (in theory) to be played only for a certain amount of time a day by linking the passage of time to the real world. In both games, players either have complained about that restriction, or tried to get around it by ‘time traveling’ that is changing the time on their physical device forward so they could continue unlocking more of the game.

I have always appreciated the limitations within Cozy Grove, the ability to play for only an hour and a half and then having to walk away because there wasn’t anything else to do in the game prevented me from over playing. Can’t say the same thing about the latest release of Animal Crossing, as New Horizons’ Nook Miles mechanic encouraged a player to keep grinding even if it was the same day (and pointless).

But I’ve never purposely limited my play sessions. In large part because when I do play games more often than not I have purposely made time to play very long sessions of a game. In large part because I want to finish the game, want to see where it takes me or how it ends. Until recently.

Because I have other things to do in my day, like my job, journal setups, writing, more writing and other video games I put a timer on Infinity Nikki. I had begun doing this for two reasons. The first is that Infinity Nikki is a live service game, which means it's always going to get updated and there are always things going on, so I try to sign on every single day. However, to prevent the game from taking over my life, I play it before bed, which means I have a bedtime, which means the game needs to be put on a timer otherwise I will not sleep before midnight.

So my reasons for doing this were completely practical in nature. It had become part of a routine, I would take a shower, finish journal updates for the day and then depending on the time left over, set a timer so it would go off a bit before it was time to go to bed. Often this would average out to an hour a night.

The act of doing this though, had an unusual by-product, that is, doing it this way would end up making Nikki a far more sustainable game for my long term enjoyment. Live service games tend to suffer from the problem of trying to continuously update the game frequently enough to not lose their player base who would eventually go off to other games if there wasn’t anything else to play. And it often has to do with how players play those games, we play those games like they’re not a live service game.

That is, we’ll sit and devour the content of a game as quickly as possible.

But once that content is devoured there is nothing for the player to do. Infinity Nikki actually already had suffered this problem with their Chinese player base within a month of release because somehow (don’t know how) a lot of players ran through the whole content of the game. Which I assume includes all the quests, and crafting all the clothes, on top of the main story quest.

I however have not, I am only on chapter 6 (I think), and with three more chapters to go, and averaging only 1 hour a night it is unlikely I’ll finish this before the next major update. Especially since I have a tendency of exploring every nook and cranny of Wish Field. I haven’t even finished all the sub quests, instead letting them pile up as I poke my head into every cave, and jump up onto every ledge the game has to offer.

And as I pointed out to @wereah last night, this is actually really great for me. Not only does this method prevent me from burning out, but unless the developers of Infinity Nikki really slow down their content release, I will probably never run out of content. There are already rumours of a 1.2 release for the Lunar New Year, which probably means a large seasonal event, new features and maybe even another chapter.

I would like to suggest this method of playing a live service game to more people, but I also recognize having played live service games in the past, like Children of the Sky, that there is something about Nikki that makes me chill. I don’t feel the need to continuously push forward, or rush to a location.What I do for Infinity Nikki, I might not be able to do for other games like it, and I frankly don’t know if I could play another live service game. Having one, that I really, really like, is enough for me.

[buzzdixonwriter]

A Writer’s Guide To Dopamine And Serotonin

Dopamine is the hormone / neurotransmitter our brain generates when something delights us, serotonin is the hormone / neurotransmitter our brain generates when something pleases us.

To grossly over simplify matters, dopamine is the brilliant spark, serotonin is the warmth from a long-lasting coal.

Genre fiction and its tropes are directly crafted to generate dopamine responses.  We want the colorful villain, the terrible peril, the stunning reversal, and feel disappointed when genre fiction fails to deliver.

We don’t want them presented to us exactly the same way every time we encounter them, but we want them nonetheless.

They’re like popcorn at the movies, all part of the fun experience.

Genre fiction as a whole may trigger serotonin, but that release is less from individual works themselves and more from the pleasant memories and nostalgia the genre evokes.  In the case of serotonin we get the same feeling from genre fiction as we do from revisiting a favorite spot or hearing an old favorite song.

Literary fiction -- and by this we mean anything that does not set out to fulfill genre expectations but rather tell its own story -- may trigger dopamine responses, but those tend to be responses to genuine surprise, not novelty.

A genuine surprise is something 100% logical for the story in question but totally unexpected by the reader, novelty is simply a variation on a theme, such as a pirate with two hooks for hands.* 

The long lasting appeal of literary fiction is that unlike genre fiction, it can provide new insights and stimulate new thoughts every time it’s reread. 

We can only extract so much wealth from Goldfinger while Moby Dick is a never ending wellspring for the imagination.

Some will claim this is pretentiousness, an artificial elevation of artsy-phartsy literature over two-fisted hard boiled writing, but nothing could be further from the truth.

While some literary fiction attempts to soar to undreamed of imaginary heights, a lot of it focuses on more grounded matters.

And literary fiction -- when it clicks -- often creates its own tropes that are imitated by other works to form a brand new genre.  This is often the case when a writer heads into new territory and -- when rewarded by enthusiasm from readers -- sees attempts to imitate that success again and again by others.

Mark Twain found popular success with Tom Sawyer and followed it with three sequels.  Two sequels were mercenary reiterations of his original work -- and justly forgotten today.

The third? 

He stepped out of his comfort zone and penned Huckleberry Finn which is arguably the quintessential American novel.

It would be unfair to claim all genre fiction is the equivalent of junk food – some of it can be quite nutritious comfort food – but the very appeal of genre fiction forces it into a groove no deeper than a dixie cup.  When it does break out it’s usually an explosion that shatters all genre boundaries imposed on it.

Genre fiction’s stated goal is not to supply a well balanced meal but rather savory morsels to get the audience begging for more.

Literary fiction wants to engage its audience but feels disinclined to do so by catering to their whims.  There is a certain arrogance among literary writers:  This is my/story, gawddammit, and I won’t jump through your hopes to tell it.

And in fairness, when literary fiction goes awry, it can be damn near unreadable.

And this isn’t counting all the so-called literary fiction that is actually just another specific but not well known sub-genre in pop fiction.**

Don’t misconstrue this as claiming literary fiction needs to be ”serious” in any sense of the word.  Alice In Wonderland, Catch-22, and One Flew Over The Cuckoo Nest are all rollicking fun and each took readers somewhere they’ve never been before.

Am I passing judgment on writers who favor one over the other? 

Well…yeah.  But only in the context of what feels right for me.

I’m fully capable of writing a thriller that punches all the boxes of the thriller enre tropes…

…but I don’t want to.***

To me it feels like squandering my time and talent, like an Olympic athlete competing in a middle school track meet.

To all the writers I know who write in that and other genres and feel enriched by it (and not just monetarily so), more power to ye, brothers and sisters.  Follow your bliss and write what your soul tells you to write.

But for those who seek that extra challenge, who want to pioneer new territory where we possess no idea anyone will want to follow, the road from Omelas is clear, even if it’s the path less taken.

  © Buzz Dixon

  *  How does he go to the bathroom?  That’s why he’s so mean.  No joke too old, no gag too shopworn.

** Looking at you, college professors who just wrote a novel about a college professor having an affair with a student.

*** Look at what I’ve written in the past; thrillers are clearly in my wheelhouse.

[dangerous-advantage]

if you’re in the rise fandom and see this:

go read “all the ashes in my wake” by @crows-murder right now.

(yes, that is an order, and yes, pun intended.)

this post serves as a fic rec, but mainly to let me gush about how much i love this fic without filling up the author’s inbox with a small dissertation (/joking).

for the fic rec part:

leo. cursed. ella enchanted type cursed.

if you have any interest at all in absolutely phenomenal angst, clever writing with a style that’s easy to follow and smooth as butter, on-point characterization and dynamics, and basically anything you could ever ask for of a rise fic,

go. read. this. fic. right. now.

(that said, i am now going to ramble about my specific thoughts concerning the fic and it’s plot, so. possible spoilers beyond this point?)

there have been a growing number of fics in this “sub-genre” of the rise fandom involving a character (generally leo) getting cursed, and then facing off against angsty odds that make you go, “oh. oh, shit.” (/positive)

these curses also tend to involve the phases of the moon in some way, which i think is a very fun and interesting trend

i’ve enjoyed all of the fics that i’ve read which fit into this, but this particular fic may be my favorite yet

it follows a simple formula, neatly tying the a plot (the curse stuff) and the b plot (leo’s conflict with leadership and the strain it’s putting on his relationships) into a neat little bow.

while the idea of leo getting “ella enchanted” is fun on its own, it’s doubly important to the plot and the characterization, as it forces him to have to fix one problem to address the other.

in the first chapter, the author constructs the roots to this, by contrasting leo’s wily, independent nature against the inevitable conflict that will stifle his attempts to act on it.

watching him brush his brothers off, make his own choices and go off on his own, builds this wonderful sense of tension. it hooks you — what’s going to happen when that string is cut?

it plays perfectly into the underlying conflict. leo needs to find a way to overcome his fears of leading the team, or else the rift between him and his team will only continue to widen.

so what does the narrative do? it forces him into a position where he is no longer gets to choose.

this incapacitation is a powerful tool, not only because of the external force of the curse, but also that it plays off of the weaknesses of his character.

this isn’t something that he can just handwave, or take care of on his own. it’s a situation where he needs to ask for help.

but this is leo we’re talking about. of course he isn’t going to go to his brothers about this, or even tell them! but by hiding it and trying to fix it himself, he ends up caught in a deadlock of his own making.

and since it doesn’t look like he’s going to get over himself very soon, it seems more likely that he’ll end up cornered in a very sticky situation indeed (something which i am very much looking forward to seeing, if that is the plan).

it’s genius! to fix his problems with the curse, he has to address his issues with his family first.

my attempts to sound smarter than i actually am aside (/lighthearted), i am so glad this fic is addressing the conflict between raph and leo. not only that, but in a way that feels true to their characters.

unlike other iterations of the tmnt, the roles here are reversed. it’s not the stolid abs responsible leader pitted against the broody loner who wants to be leader, but isn’t the right fit.

it’s rise!raph, who cares about his little brother and wants to support him, and rise!leo who, on some level, doubts his own ability in this new role on the team — to be anything more than “the face man.”

it’s not often where you come across a fic where the a plot and the b plot are equally engaging, but this is one of those rare cases where everything just works. it’s like i’m witnessing the first steps of some great machine, meticulously crafted, a hundred disparate parts working in tandem.

in the third chapter, the angst just works. the pay-off there feels so real, because you get it. you relate to this character. when raph is there, waiting up for him, you know shit’s about to go down. you can feel it.

if the necklace (and therefore the curse) acted as both a narrative device and catalyst, leo’s swords represent the other side of that: the last bit of freedom he has left in this godawful situation.

they’re the last bit of freedom, his only hope of escape. raph taking them (or, rather, leo being compelled to surrender them) has just glorious undertones in the narrative as a whole.

if you were to consider the katanas a representation of leo’s autonomy, it makes sense why him being forced to give them up hits that much harder.

not only is it a tense situation, where leo is fighting back but ultimately unable to overcome the curse, it cements this underlying feeling of helplessness the author has been seeding since the chapter previous.

now that we’re here, with both the a plot and b plot coming into direct confrontation with what leo wants, we recognize that leo cannot continue how he is.

sure, he’ll keep on fighting it (abs i am very much looking forward to seeing how that goes), but this is the point where we know, there is no escaping.

leo is now truly stuck. without his katanas, fubdibg the necklace to break the curse on his own is basically impossible.

and he recognizes this.

leo’s characterization throughout this fic has been some of the best in the business. he’s smart, witty, independent, calculating — probably one of, if not the best true-to-character representations of rise!leo thats i’ve seen so far.

(absolutely phenomenal job there, i cannot stress this point enough.)

in fact, all of the characters in this fic are so well-written? i’m already seeing roots for character development within casey sr. (which i am so here for, oh my gods you don’t even know), and you can’t help but be invested in all of these relationships

we’re constantly being reminded of the emotional conflict, how much of a strain it’s putting on the relationships, not just between raph and leo, but between all of them.

leo sees this, understands something has to change, but feels paralyzed by what that could mean. for him, and his family.

not to beat the metaphorical dead horse, but that scene after leo surrenders his katanas abs flees back to his room? damn. i felt that on a visceral level.

being so tired, so miserable, so helpless, when a part of you knows you’re being irrational, but having your own pride and fear get in the way of that?

not to project all over these characters or whatever, but fuck. it feels like this was written to call out me, specifically (/j /lh)

and urgh! the detail work in this is incredible!

maybe i’m just a slut for somewhat contrived narratives, and definitely contrived foreshadowing, but the way it’s done in this fic comes off as so clean and organized.

it’s like... weaving threads in a tapestry. you can see where the connect, though you’re not quite sure where they’re going, until you can step back abs look at the picture as a whole.

it genuinely feels masterful in some places, like, mother of god, leave some talent for the rest of us!! (/lighthearted)

i could probably keep talking about this forever, but i do have other responsibilities i should be taking care of, and i kind of want to reread the three chapters that are out (as of writing this) again.

who knows, maybe i’ll revisit this in the future, when i have a better basis and understanding of the underlying themes here.

for now, dear author (if you are, for some reason, reading this),i hope you don’t mind my pretentious and meandering thoughts and/or assumptions. you’ll probably see me again, gushing in your comment sections. yours is just the kind of fic that deserves to be gushed about.

[kahuunknown]

Worlds beyond imagining - Chaos Walking David Prentiss Fanfic (Part 1)

!NOTE!: ABO universe/themes, inspiration from CHAOS WALKING film, David Prentiss x OC (Theo) male character x potentially others

~~~

“Scout ship A, prepare to enter New World’s atmosphere in T minus 37 seconds.”

Theo scrunched his nose as an itch started to appear to the end of it, but his hands were cuffed and locked behind him, and a lower-face muzzle prevented him from uttering a word of complaint. His red orbs flickered lazily about the cabin and its crew, all performing the habitual procedures he’d seen countless times before. His seating was opposite the entrance door, made only for people like him. Most of the crew ignored his presence, more excited to explore this famed paradise than pay attention to the likes of a sub-human, even if more many of them- it was their first encounter with the likes of a sub-human.

“Copy that, Mother Bird.” The captain drawled, sending a quick thumbs up and signal to the crew which had them eagerly using the Zero G to float towards their assigned seats and buckle up hastily.

Theo supposed it was lucky that he was the one assigned to visit this planet, instead of one of his siblings. Who instead were more often used for exploration of worlds holding much more hostile native life. He’d seen a few of those types of worlds before, and such trips were usually only made for resource gathering. So the trips were short and sweet, unlike this one… Theo slumped as much as he could within the confines of his restraints. He’d have preferred some Gamma went instead of him, he’d rather be with his pack. But if the mission was successful, at least there would be some time to see some of them again- those assigned to settlement protection anyway.

“Hey, you want me to scratch that for you?”

Theo flinched, not expecting to have someone so suddenly in front of him, nor with their arm outstretched and pointing to his nose. It was a woman, and she looked young. This was likely her first scouting mission, so she did not know the protocol regarding individuals like himself. Still, everyone else seemed to more excited to chat amongst each other, than pay attention to the newbie. He couldn’t respond to her anyway, nor stop her either.

She didn’t scratch where he needed it, but her gesture of kindness wasn’t unappreciated. Though she would surely think differently of him once he was tasked with his objective on ground.

“You know, I’ve never met a sub-human before. You’re not what I imagined.” She rambled, chuckling as Theo rolled his eyes. Of course, he’d already gathered she’d never met someone like him. “Is it that obvious?” She teased.

“I’m Viola.” She introduced with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Theo.”

“Viola! Get to your seat!” The captain ordered, throwing a disturbed expression Theo’s way.

Viola looks startled, responding with some apologies before quickly buckling into the seat to Theo’s right.

The captain watches as Viola buckles herself in before returning to his duties murmuring off to the Mother Ship’s control center.

“Still no contact from the surface.” He relays, “We’ll let you know what we find.”

Double checking all his crew were secure and ready, the captain locks in the reinforced chair bars to everyone’s person and prepares the scouting ship for entry through the thick atmosphere of the planet.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the temperature at point of entry will be a balmy 3000 degrees.” The captain jokes, “Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Buckle up.”

“Think the settlers are still alive down there?” One of the crew voices curiously, eyeing the view out of the ships porthole.

“If they are, they’re gonna be happy to see us.” Another responds with a lazy shrug.

“What will they think of the sub-human?”

“Who knows, who cares.”

“They were expecting the Second Wave years ago.”

The craft starts to shake quite violently as the New World’s planet resists the scouting shuttles entry, Theo intakes a bored breath before closing his eyes as he prepares to wait out the rough entry. However, a wave of… something passing through the ship causes his eyes to snap open in alarm. Before narrowing as he observes the quick chaos that soon spreads around the ship.

‘What did we just fly through?’ Theo wonders before realizing in alarm that he could hear his thought aloud.

“Don’t freak out, don’t freak out.” A male passenger pleads to himself, only, those were his thought- now broadcasted to everyone. “Don’t freak out- We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die!”

“What did you say?” Viola asks him, double-checking if she’d heard right.

The man opens his squeezed shut eyes in confusion, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Fire!” Someone screams in alarm, before the entire ship tilts off course and throws loose items everywhere.

Theo glances everywhere for a chance at escape, ‘Let me out! I need to get out-‘

“Hey, it’ll be okay.” Viola hurried assures him. “I’ll get the captain.” She states as she unbuckles herself.

Parts of the shuttle tear open below them and the rush of oxygen makes Theo’s mind light-headed, and before he knew things simply switch off and his vision went to black.

They had landed.

~

“-up… wa- up… wake…. Wake up- Wake up! Theo, wake up!”

Eyes snapped open before slamming shut again at the glare which hit him, squinting instead, Theo groaned at the sudden sharp slice of pain which came from his abdomen. Focusing however, he ignored the desire to sleep once more and scanned his environment.

Before him was a relieved Viola, and the complete wreckage of their ship.

She laughed tiredly, “I thought I was the only one… I’m so glad you’re alive.”

‘What happened?’ He wondered before realizing that once again his thought was broadcasted, and he recalled how the ship failed, how crazy everything became.

Viola looked shocked at him before ignoring her questions and relenting in answering him.

“We crashed, the men… they started- I could hear their thoughts… just like you.” She rambled together.

‘Where’s everyone else?’

“Gone.” She sniffled, “Dead. It’s just us.”

‘Have you contacted Mother Bird?’

“No.” She cringes, “Nothing of our ship survived. We need to find a transmitter.”

Mind clearer, Theo cringes when he tries to move. Eyes darting to his abdomen, he is shocked to see a chunk of metal speared right through him.

‘Ow…’

Viola lets out a shaky laugh, “Ow?! That’s all you’ve got to say?”

Theo glares at her loudness, ‘Don’t speak so loudly.’

She shuts her mouth quickly and lets out a shaky breath before nodding, “Sorry.” She mumbles.

‘I need to get these restraints off.’ Theo tells her, ‘I can’t do anything like this.’

“Right! Of course, yeah, let me just…” She trails off and rounds Theo’s form. Pressing a thumb to the back of his lower-face muzzle, the device beeps in recognition before disengaging. With a hiss, the muzzle falls off and Theo’s hands are now free. He lets out a long breath in relief, then drawing in a nice fresh lungful of oxygen.

“Thank you.” He mutters.

Viola returns to his front, now seeing his exposed face she pauses. He glances at her, noting her reddened skin and frowns.

“Are you sick?”

“No!” She denies, “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” He asks.

She looks hesitant but answers him, “I wasn’t expect you to look so…” Theo raises an eyebrow, “… Beautiful.”

“You were expecting an ugly person?” He scoffs.

“No- I don’t know what I was expecting! Just not… this!” She gestures to his face.

He rolls his eyes at her before returning to his injury, ‘I don’t have time for this…’ He thinks.

“Well, what do you need?” She inquires softly. “How can I help you?”

“Mostly, I need food.” Theo bluntly tells her. “And for you to pull this thing out.”

She recoils, “Food?! That’s all that’s on your mind, right now? You need medical attention!”

Theo sighs, and then hisses at the pain that dramatic action caused him, ‘I need food to heal, idiot.’

“Oh…” She drawls before frowning, “You don’t have to be rude about it though, I don’t know anything about sub-humans!”

Theo groans as he leans back against some section of ship he’d been positioned at, “I’ll have to get used to that.”

“Used to what?” Viola asks.

“You hearing my thoughts.”

Viola realizes that indeed, she’d been responding to him when he hadn’t even opened his mouth. He very much was only broadcasting his thoughts. But why couldn’t he hear hers?

She shuffles to stand, and gestures to the chunk of metal sticking out of him, “I better pull that out…”

“Please…” Theo huffs.

She thinks to do it slowly and gently, but Theo’s expression causes her to intake a sharp breath and tug the chunk out quickly. Theo groans and hisses at the wave of pain which follows but already she could see that flesh within him trying to mend itself.

“I’ll go find some food.” She tells him, “Get some rest.”

Theo nods his head, much too tired to argue with her. ‘Thank you.’

“Just don’t die on me, okay.”

..

Theo gasped awake, hands darting to cradle the still very much healing wound at his side, only to find Viola desperately trying to speak with him, tugging urgently at his uniform.

“What is it?” Theo asked.

“There’s people! Some- Someone is following me! Chasing me! We have to move-“ She whipped her head to the left of her, and the calling of someone’s thoughts were getting louder.

Theo gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, slapping Viola’s worried hands away from him.

‘Where are we going?’ He thought to her.

“Over here, there’s a ridge.” She explains quickly, a pre-packed bag already slung around her side. Leading the way in a hurry, Theo stumbles after her. Winding around slopes and trees before emerging at a small ridge which would act as temporary cover.

“You must be quiet.” She urges, “Do not think.”

“Easy for you to say…” Theo grumbles, sitting down and calming his racing heart.

But he managed it, as the curious voice of a young man hurried off with the word ‘spaceship’ in his head.

“He’s going to tell someone.” Theo stated.

Viola nodded her head, “I saw a village. There’s quite a few people there.”

“Did you manage to find any food?” Theo asks hopefully, and she nods her head. Hands darting to her slung bag and pulling out an apple each.

Theo looks at it pitifully and sighs, ‘Better than nothing, I suppose…’

“It was that or beets.” Viola shares, “It was that boy which spotted me taking them.”

Opening his mouth to take a bite out of the sweet fruit, Viola gasps, hands darting forwards to pull back his lips. Theo catches both her wrists and snarls at her, “What are you doing?!”

“Your teeth!” She exclaims.

“What of it?” He returns.

“They’re sharp!” She marvels, “You have two sets of elongated canines! Do all sub-humans-“

“Just Omega.” Theo interrupts, pushing away from her. His tone is low and sad, ‘I miss the pack…’

“The pack?” Viola questions, “Your family?”

Theo glares at her, before sighing as he realized it wasn’t her fault for being able to hear his thoughts. Instead, he turns his back to her and continues to eat the apple he’d been given. Viola realizes the conversation must have been a sensitive one. Thinking more on it, she supposed that was a more than reasonable response. His family, himself included, were genetically engineered experiments that were barely classed as human- they didn’t share the same rights or experiences in the slightest-

Viola gasps as the farm boy stumbles randomly upon them both-

‘Holy shit! It’s a girl.’ The boy’s thoughts exclaim. ‘Space girl.’

Theo is swiftly at his feet, pushing Viola behind him protectively, his side causes him to wobble sightly but he maintains his strong posture and glares at the farm boy cautiously.

“Whoa!” The boy jumps back a little in surprise at Theo’s movements, ‘That’s a girl- He’s quiet too. Is he a girl too?’

The boy looks at Theo form in a sort of awe, the man was tall and large, he held himself like a warrior. Like a predator and it made the young man shiver instinctually at the sight, not to mention the obvious training and skill this person displayed. Like a giant weapon… More notably however, was the silence of thought coming from Theo.

Backing up slowly, Theo snatches Viola’s sling bag and shoves it to her form. The boy darts his eyes to the orange of her raincoat and pant uniform.

‘Never seen a girl before… she’s from the farm-‘

Theo snarls, whipping out a small tactical knife from his uniform and swiping it warningly in the boy’s direction.

“Stay back, boy. Don’t come any closer.” He warns. ‘I’ll kill you…’

The boy gasps, the Noise of Theo was not what he was expecting at all. The voice was low and smooth, it sounded controlled and… rather nice to the ear. But his attention is stolen again by the space girl, the farm boy is barely able to see Viola, who trembles in fear and remains pressed into Theo’s back. But Theo’s defending motion lets the stranger barely get another glimpse of her-

‘Girl. Girl. It’s a girl. Girl. Oh, my God-‘ The boy straightens himself, “Where are you from?” He questions softly, but his thoughts are still all over the place.

‘You’re a girl. No Noise. Who are they? Who is he…?’

“Are you from Earth?” The boy inquires again, this time directly to both of them. Neither Viola or Theo respond to him. ‘Girl! Thief! They’re… pretty! Shut up, Todd-‘

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve just never… Never seen a girl before. Never seen anyone from space…” The boy explains lamely. Both Theo and Viola look at him like he’s crazy. This Todd fellow was… unique, to put it lightly. But he was also threatening the exposure of their location.

“Are you from Earth?” Todd asks again, before stumbling backwards at Theo’s pulled lip. ‘Teeth! Sharp, sharp teeth! What is he?!-‘

Viola steps on a rather brittle branch which snaps under her weight, and Todd’s eyes dart to meet hers.

‘You’re really pretty. Yellow hair. Found her… I found her! I found her!’

His thoughts were loud and undeniably a beacon to their position, Theo looks over his shoulder to Viola.

“Run.”

She doesn’t question him, she does as commanded of her and darts away instantly. Theo readies his knife again, ready to hold off any chasers on her tail.

What he wasn’t expecting however was a hologram that tricked him into attacking a false enemy, now face-to-face with the culprit, Theo readies himself for any other type of attack or defense.

“What are you?” The man inquires with a curious gaze. He was older, in his fifties perhaps. With greying hair and an air of authority practically dripping from his person.

Theo scrunches his nose but decides to answer honestly, “I’m an Omega sub-human, of Mother Bird colony. Who are you?”

“Sub-human?” The man repeats confused, before his eyes gleam in intrigue. “Interesting. I’m leader of fleet 3, now mayor of Prentisstown. David Prentiss.”

“Prentiss? You were-“

Theo doesn’t finish his revelation as someone behind him knocks him out cold with the bunt of their gun.

Quickly, he falls to the ground lifeless.

~

Waking with a startle, Theo wasn’t expecting a nose to be pressed against the junction of his neck, instinctively he tries to protect himself, but again his hands are restricted and tied securely behind him. Instead all he can do is lean away from the perpetrator.

“What are you doing?” Theo hisses.

David Prentiss takes a step back, allowing Theo to identify him, “Why do you smell like that?”

“What are you talking about?” Theo rebuts quickly, ‘Only Alpha can scent me… wait- Fuck.’

“Alpha?” David repeats, amused at the mistake. “Explain to me… what are you, Theo?”

“How do you know my name?” Theo hisses, alarm flaring up in his expression. His records were confidential, locked and sealed tightly away. Only Viola would be aware of this-

“First, tell me where she is.” Theo demands, changing the subject instantly upon his previous thoughts.

“Safe.” David answers with a growing smile, “For now.” He adds ominously.

[miloscat]

[Review] Steel Diver: Sub Wars (3DS)

More like Sub Bores, am I right???

Some time after making Star Fox 2 for Nintendo and seeing it cancelled, core members of Argonaut Dylan Cuthbert and Giles Goddard went their separate ways. Cuthbert went on to found Q-Games and ended up making some other Star Fox games, whereas Goddard did some other Nintendo projects before starting the company Vitei. They created the tepidly-received 3DS launch title Steel Diver, a sidescrolling submarine game with gyro and strategy modes.

Three years later in 2014 their follow-up was Steel Diver: Sub Wars, Nintendo’s first free-to-play title. Gameplay had been refocused to a first person view and the central focus was on making an online multiplayer title that any 3DS owner could play, whether they had paid or not. Premium content included extra single player levels and a bunch of extra submarines. I never played the multiplayer mode but I can’t imagine it was too astounding; Nintendo’s online infrastructure has never held up well for real-time games, especially in high-ping Australia. I just played solo: to be honest, the only reason I played this right now was to scout for Star Fox vibes.

It was well publicised at the time that Peppy Hare of Star Fox makes a cameo appearance, shilling the premium content if you’re a free-play bozo in the same vein as the Streetpass rabbits and Badge Arcade bunny (the git…). This meaningless cameo doesn’t contribute much; the other “characters” are caricatured humans but the game otherwise has a quite bland military theme. The other Star Fox connection is the inclusion of Lylat Wars’ Blue Marine, which I used throughout the campaign until its low durability proved too much of a liability in the final mission.

While you could argue that piloting a sub in a 3D environment isn’t too dissimilar to taking an Arwing out in first-person on an All-Range stage, in practice Sub Wars is much closer to a simulation game. The subs move ponderously, and your encounters with enemy boats and submersibles are careful and tactical. Unlike in the first Steel Diver, your core actions are mapped to buttons but also represented on the touchscreen with a nice crusty control panel clustered around a sonar display. It does a decent job getting across the feel of piloting a weighty metal craft while outmanoeuvring fellow subs, but it’s not overly exciting.

Sadly the campaign feels like an afterthought, or maybe more of a warmup for the “real game” of online or local PvP. There’s only seven stages, although each has three difficulty levels (you’ll need to hit up multiple of these to get the required medals to unlock later stages). Not only are these short but they don’t really do much that’s interesting, mostly being shallow open sea combat arenas or corridor shooting galleries. Two stand out: the Morse code test that has you signalling words in rapid succession (this mechanic is amusingly the only way to communicate in multiplayer) which as a minigame is a nice change of pace; and the floating fortress which felt the most Star Fox-esque. The battle involves waiting for panels to open to shoot into the vulnerable reactor, while dodging torpedoes.

This fortress is basically the only fantastical element in the game. I was reminded of Jaws: Ultimate Predator, another 3DS game I played last year, with its murky sea almost devoid of interesting detail and basic “kill all the boats” objectives. As with that game I found myself wishing for it to go harder and be weirder, for level design or missions to be more complex and engaging. Alas.

Perhaps my hopes as a Star Fox fan coming into this couldn’t be met by a multiplayer-focused microtransaction-fuelled budget submarine sim. It is what it is, I just found it uninteresting. I do acknowledge the mismatch, that I wasn’t playing it the intended way, but shutdown of the online servers is imminent and many sub designs and customisable crew members are locked behind multiplayer play. Soon enough the whole game will be obsolete… but all games are worth preserving, even if I wasn’t thrilled with this one.