#while also trolling marshall

[sfarxuri]

Old animation featuring a friend's Oc Marshall with Sfarx & Oscuri, abit out of character for Sfarx since I see them giving her headpats/messing up her hair instead of crying but the audio was funny so made them cry lol also a small dynamic of Marshall & Oscuri not liking each other she does mess with him for being sassy/drama queen most of the time

[quitealotofsodapop]

Monkey King: Hero is Back Au/Sequel details:

Old post of ideas and theories - made before I experienced the game.

May name the au and/or fic "Hero Rebound" as a ref to the ship nam eof Dasheng and his LEM.

Mixing some elements found in the video game as the added lore is cool af but a bit messy. Also the old man that raised Liuer deserves recognition.

Putting characters under Read More:

Major Characters:

Dasheng/Sun Wukong/"The Great Sage Equal to Heaven":

Going by the prequel concept poster; Was born/hatched looking like a coconut macaroon.

Secretly a herbalism/medical nerd. In the games he keeps a little guide of the medicinal plants and materials he finds.

Babysat a lot on Huaguo. In the english dub he even seems to default to asking if Liuer needs a babysitter.

Instincts take over a lot. Will pull the kids towards him and groom fur thats not even there.

Is tramatized by his experience in the Trigram Furnace.

Desperately wishes to find Erlang Shen so he can kick his ass.

Tries to play it cool; but Liuer's death actually tramatized him. He fears losing him again.

Don't touch Liuer or Silly Girl. Those are his babies now. He will kill you.

Zhanshi/Six Earred Macaque/Liu er Mihou/"Great Sage Informing Wind":

An oc/JTTW character variation; Was a member of the Brotherhood of Sages during her and Dasheng's youth. The LMK OC Picrew was used to create a rough image of her.

Sweetest ray of bustling sunshine compared to her gloomier mate. Will still kill any being that dares touch one of her subjects.

Severely injured during the Burning on Mount Huaguo - permanetly damaging her right eye and ears. Dasheng had assumed she'd died during the battle after he was tossed into the Furnace.

Honorary grandma to the little monkeys of Mount Huaguo. Helped raise many of them after the Burning while their parents foraged and worked the land.

Finds a weird Stone Egg that crashed down after the solar eclipse. Now everyone seems to want the dang thing. Realised what the egg truly was when she heard the flutters of a heartbeat from within.

First time Liuer accidentally called her "Mama", Zhanshi cried for two hours.

Pls do not touch the baby monkeys. She will bite. And crush.

Jiang Liuer/"Tripitaka"/Current Incarnation of Golden Cicada:

Died during the battle with Hundun - but Dasheng basically smashed down the doors of the Celestial Realm and begged the gods/bodhisattvas to bring his biy back.

Is bedbound and near comatose for 49 days as his body and soul heals.

Dasheng sacrificed his powers, freedom, and some of his dao/life energy for Liuer's revival. Liuer may or may not be part-stone monkey now.

Liuer doesn't know what happened to his parents. He assumed he was abandoned. His time in Diyu-Limbo clears this assumption up - learning that his parents died protecting him from mountain trolls/yao that wanted him for his delicious holy soul.

Can be a feral little guy at times. He was raised by a hermit after all.

Calls Fa Ming "granddad" in the english dub, so it's possible he just assumes Fa Ming is his granddad.

Is desperate for a mother figure.

Sha Ya Tou/"Silly Girl"/"A-nan":

A very cheerful baby despite her situation.

Is not 100% human.

Hundun specifically needed her for the ritual.

First word ends up being "Bima!" (horse) after someone mentioned "Bimawen".

Zhu Bajie/"Uncle Pigsy"/Marshal Canopy:

Lies that he's the reincarnated Pagoda King to scare demons. And because nobody outside of Heaven knows who Marshal Canopy is.

Gets real quiet when people bring up the story of Chang'e for some reason...

Amazing uncle figure. Notices that Liuer is sad during the movie's song sequence and uses his transformation ability to let the little guy experience flying.

Most of the time on the road he lets the kids use his stomach as a pillow.

Sha Wujing/"Sandy":

Another oc/JTTW character variation since no Sandy-equivalent appears in Hero is Back. Also made in the LMK OC Picrew.

She/they

Dresses very masculine but loves accessorising with flowers, shells, bones, pretty rock etcs.

Zhu Bajie shot her a wink and Sha Wujing had to politely explain that she wasn't interested in men in general. The two then bonded over their shared love for women.

Encounters the Seven Spider Sisters and... ohhh mama.

Sifu Fa Ming/"Grandpa":

Just some really cool old human dude.

Has a Diogenes-esque view of life, and does not care for monks and religious officials living in luxury. Self-exiled himself from his Vihara so that he could persue a simpler life.

Raised the baby he found (named "Little River Float/Jiang Liuer" cus thats what the baby was) with whatever he could find. Pretty much all alms he gained were used for food and clothes for his adopted grandchild. And from what the opening credits show, Fa Ming travelled with Liuer on his back through rain, snow, and shine.

Considers finding Liuer a blessing from the Buddha. Something he's somewhat correct on.

Was the first one to introduce Liuer to the legend of the Monkey King - as a cautionary tale to not be covetous. He did not anticipate Liuer thinking the monkey demon was the coolest person in all of Buddhist mythos. Fa Ming sighs, maybe that doll of his influenced that too.

His english va is James Hong, aka Mr Ping from Kung Fu Panda and he gives the best english performance imo. James Hong just be playing ancient chinese men who find and adopt a random baby they find.

Canglong/"The Dragon":

Isn't Ao Lie/Bai Longma... but is one of his dads. Canglong and Ao Run are a thing. Ganglong was once a regular rain dragon who saw that the newly-appointed King Ao Run of the "Western Sea" (in the mythos the older three called dibs on the actual seas around China) trying to build a canal from the Yellow River. Canglong called down a great rain to help make the in-land sea/lake that would become Qinghai Lake. The two dragon bonded over their effort and well... dragon pups occured.

I hc that the Western Sea kingdom is a lot more chill than it's empire-like brothers, so these guys are flying and swimming freely all around the place.

In the film the dragon and Dasheng just sorta team-up off screen. In the game they have Guanyin bring the boys straight to the Western Sea Palace (in the sky) to ask for a dragon assist. Canglong fought Hundun and the other three Perils before alongside "Shunwang" - a human with a sword. "Shunwang" is likely a reference to Emperor Shun of the "Three Soverigns and Five Emperors"-era of Chinese mythos (same era as Nuwa, Fuxi, and Shennong) and predecesor of Yu the Great; who ultimately tamed the waters with Ruyi Jingu Bang (Sun Wukong's future staff). Emperor Shun in mythos beat the stuffing out of the Four Perils - though not the same ones that include Hundun - rather Gonggong who broke the Heavenly Pillar.

Adding on to the lore from the HiB game: Canglong teamed up with humanity during the Great Flood to help curb the flood waters. Here he met Shunwang, who's goal was to kill the Four Perils and God that helped cause the Flood. Canglong thought that was cool af and got all the dragons involved to help. The Four Perils are sadly all concepts and you really can't 100% kill them, so they all ended up sealed away instead. By the time of Dasheng's release; Hundun (blind chaos) got out. Canglong was in the same area as the gang looking for Hundun to apprehend him - when Sun Wukong ran up to him with info on what Hundun had planned, Canglong agreed to help no questions asked.

As in game canon: Helps the gang return the stolen children. I hc through amazing sense of smell. Canglong doesn't hang around for long though, as Ao Run immediately flies over, worried out of his mind for his injured mate, and brings him home. Canglong and Ao Run do however have a cheeky white-scaled dragon pup that likes to pretend to be horse and is obsessed with the legendary Bimawen...

Hundun and the Great Perils:

A squad of four primordial concepts set loose when the destructive water god Gonggong destroyed the Heavenly Pillar. Their goal? Take out the newly-formed humanity.

Among them was (as taken from Chinese mythos):

‣Qiongqi/窮奇/"poor and strange": Deviousness. Said to devour the innocent/noble people, and serve evil ones. Said to either possess the body of a flying tiger or a carnivorous ox. Killed at the hands of Emperor Shun.

‣Taotie/餮/"greedy glutton": Gluttony. Said to have the head of a ding/bronze vessel that consumes all. Has the body of an ungulate, and the voice of a baby. Some believe it to be the reincarnated form of Chi You - the decapitated enemy of the Yellow Emperor.

‣ Taowu/檮杌/"stupid stump": Ignorance. Personifies the stubborness of man, and the refusal to learn. Resembles a sabre-toothed tiger.

‣ Hundun/混沌/"chaotic torrent: Chaos. Like chaos it's true form is blind and directionless. Mythology says that attempts were made to give it holes in which to see, breath, and eat, but it immediately died and reincarnated into "an evil creature".

Nuwa, alongside Shunwang and the dragons, and a bunch of other allies, kicked the Perils butts but couldn't 100% kill them. The compromise was exile/sealing them away indefinitely. Hundun in his original form was attemtped to be rehabitilated, but upon gaining sight and the ability to breathe - died and reincarnated into the human-reptilian avatar we see in the film.

"Hundun" is an extenstion of primordial chaos itself - a thing that isn't inherently evil and was born alongside Pangu when the World Egg hatched. The demon king however, has merely a chunk of the power held by his original life.

Hundun in his current form may have died... but the soul within has move on into something else. Child-like chaos cannot be contained.

[broadcsts]

—  🎬  just  announced,  EMIRI ASLAN has  been  cast  as  hayley marshall  in  the  upcoming  the vampire diaries reboot.  the  twenty seven  year  old  is  trending  as  people  are  debating  if  smoke dancing around a street light at 3 am, one leg hanging out the window while gazing at the moon, strong smell of perfume as you walk pass; hand raking through your hair in a calming motion   that  they  are  known  for  is  enough  to  make  them  as  good  as  original.  a  quick  google  search  shows  that  their  fans  call  them  intelligent,  but  internet  trolls  think  they’re  more  compulsive.  i  guess  their  newest  interview  for  variety  where  they  talk  about  the guy she left at the altar will  let  people  to  know  them  better. 

hey GUYSSSS. its me meli hi. emiri's bio is a lot longer than i thought it would be???? but i think it leaves plenty of room for plots! so please plot with my babies i BEG.

november 14, 1999. EMIRI ASLAN was born to local hardware store owner emre aslan and his wife asli aslan. adding to their family of 3 -- which also included emiri's older brother aydin -- they resided in a small seaside town on the east coast. emre and asli came to america from turkey back in the 80s in hopes to live the whole 'american dream'. at first, they were met with a lot of prejudice and ignorance while they lived in charlotte -- but soon they found their community in a smaller town nearby and had since lived in peace with everyone around them. asli worked at the local hospital in the NICU and emre started his hardware store.

(tw: car crash, death) the aslan's were very beloved by everyone around them. emiri and aydin were the best of friends when they were little. as close of siblings as they could be. but, when asli had passed unexpectedly in a car crash, everything started to change. emre started to become distant from his kids. and it was obvious to everyone around them. but in asli's memory, everyone had rallied around them to help emre with his two kiddos (who were only 3 and 10 at the time of her death). unfortunately, only so much can be done for a checked-out parent. aydin started to act out. he couldn't process his emotions on anything going on and it was all too much for him. emiri just became quiet. everyone was doing the best they could, but none of them could handle asli being gone.

(tw: drinking, drugs) 2005 - 2016. as emiri got older, she broke out of her shell again. she started to become the same outgoing little girl she once was. she had gotten her light back. she was doing well in school, she found a passion in theater and film -- and she was more or less popular with kids her age. a very charismatic personality. but her dad slipped into a depression that he never got back out of. and her brother went down an even darker road. her dad and brother had both started drinking and fighting when both of them were home. at some point emiri just stopped going home. staying with friends or neighbors when she could.

(tw: burglary) until one night right before she turned 17. she was home and her dad stumbled in the door. he had been kicked out of a local bar and brought home by another guy who had just gotten there. she wasn't sure who he was so she went to bed and didn't think to intrude on what her dad had going on. her brother was already passed out in the basement so she knew there wasn't going to be any fighting that night. however, later that evening (around 3 am) she was woken up by the sound of a window breaking. at first, she didn't know what it was. but then she heard footsteps. thinking quickly, she hid under her bed.

she remembers seeing 3 sets of boots running through the house. but all she could do was watch helplessly, hoping her brother and father wouldn't wake up for it. there were sounds of breaking glass, rustling; papers being thrown for a few hours but she was never sure if they left or not -- so she stayed there until the next morning before she went to check what had happened. she found her father still passed out on the couch and her brother in the basement. but the whole house was trashed.

after that day, she refused to go back. she grabbed what she could and moved in with a friend a few blocks away. her father didn't fight it. he knew, deep down, this was for the best. her brother ran away after that, though she never knew why. her father started getting clean himself and eventually emiri started to see a positive change.

2017 - 2020. right before graduation, she decided to leave. emiri had big dreams and she was set on actually following through with them. getting to LA was hard enough. but actually being able to support herself while she was there was proving to be harder. she started going to open casting calls basically from day one and her charm got her pretty far. she was what older people would call 'scrappy'. but she also had to do a lot of things she wasn't proud of. including flirting with a local known screen writer. he was up-and-coming and she just wanted nothing more than to be known. after a 6 month fling, he proposed. she loved him too, she thought, by then. she thought she could see a future for the two of them. this was her new life. he was helping her get auditions and even providing for her. he truly loved her. she was safe.

october 9th, 2020. wedding day. it was supposed to be something small. no one from her past was invited, but a few friends she met in LA came in support. it was in a small wooded clearing, almost like a fairytale. gold and white everywhere. but as she stood at the beginning of the aisle looking down at the man waiting for her, she didn't feel like it was right. she didn't end up getting married that day. she wasn't ready and she didn't really think she was in love with him the way he deserved. so, she turned back around and left. by this time she had been in a couple big projects so the wedding was for sure being whispered about. rumors in tabloids swirled but emiri's ex fiance shut everything down. he never said anything bad about her or their breakup and wished her the best. and emiri was left with the guilt and a feeling that she lost something big.

2021 - now. it took her a while, but emiri got back into acting. she started building her portfolio -- even agreeing to work with her ex again a few times before she stepped back from movies for a while and had great success in TV. currently, she was just announced for the role of Hayley Marshall in The Vampire Diaries remake.

[rosemaidenvixen]

spooky prompts

Luz and claire scavenge halloween treats for their non-human-food compatible gf/bf.

Gus illusions make it possible for jim to participate in halloween prep.

Hunter uses palisman carving skills to carve jack-o-lanterns.

Hunter or Jim are frankenstein monsters au.

Morganna but she has bloody mary ghost vibes.

Halloween house decorating contest (could be a crossover???)

Vee gets to enjoy a nice autumn walk and nothing bad happens to her

Vee enjoys an autumn walk

Hunter as Frankenstein's monster

Bloody Mary Morgana

Hunter carves jack o lanterns

Gus uses illusions for Jim

Halloween house competition

Luz and Claire scavenging treats for their non human so's answered below

Ao3

Luz followed Claire as they wove their way through the farmer’s market. It really wasn’t a good time to come here, it was the middle of the day and the crowds were at their worst. And the large cooler Claire was hauling didn’t help anything. But half an hour ago she’d made an offhand comment about how hard it was finding treats she could surprise Amity with in the human realm, then Claire had piped up with how she used to have the same problem with Jim, and one thing had led to another and now they were here. Claire with leading the way to score some interspecies eats.

Because Claire wasn’t any ordinary human, she could do magic.

Humans. Doing magic in the humana realm. Every time she thought about it it sent a little thrill of excitement through her. She still hadn’t had the change to properly ask Claire some of the many many questions she had, but she’d have plenty of chances while she and the gang were in Cali–

“Sorry again, for…everything,” Claire spoke up, startling Luz out of her thoughts “I let myself get carried away and took things way too far, and you guys can stay here in Arcadia as long as you need to,”

Luz struggled but couldn’t quite keep the wince off her face as they ducked past shoulders and weaved through the crowd. She was thrilled to meet other human magic users and learn about the way magic in the human realm worked. But she really wished that they’d met under better circumstances.

And she really really wished that part of the reason she and the gang were visiting Arcadia wasn’t because they were waiting for the heat to die down back east.

Shaking her head, Luz forced the grimace away “Hey water under the bridge, and it wasn’t all your fault, there were…mistakes on both sides. And as soon as the fire marshall finishes their investigation we’ll be home free,”

Although even if the buildings were all fixed they’d never be able to get all the abomination goop out of the carpet and off the drywall.

Some stains never came out.

Claire gave her a small smile at her right as she came to a stop at a stand on the far end of the market, turning her grin towards the stall owner “Hola Jorge,”

The stall owner, a man with brown skin and graying black hair dressed in flannel and jeans, stood from the cooler he was stooped over and stepped towards them “Hola Claire great to see you, I’ve got a cooler around back all set up for you,”

“Thanks! You’re the best,”

Claire walked around the tent, Luz following on her heels, until they came to a small semi truck with a large cooler on the ground in front of it.

“So you know the guy who runs this place?” Luz asked.

“Kind of,” Claire got down on her knees and popped open the cooler, rummaging through its contents “Jorge runs a farm just outside of Arcadia, small scale sustainable meat farming kind of thing. He was the first guy I went to about getting some of the discards from butchering. Now we’ve got a regular thing set up,”

Luz glanced to the left and right, kneeled down right next to Claire, and leaned over to whisper in her ear “So does he know about….”

“Magic and trolls? I don’t think so, but I’m pretty sure he suspects, either way I think he’d be cool with it,”

Claire sat back on her haunches, giving Luz a full view of the cooler’s contents “I wasn’t sure what troll food also works as witch food, but I figured discard parts would be a good place to start,”

“What….parts specifically?”

In response Claire lifted out a plastic bag filled to bursting with eyeballs.

“Oooh that looks great!” Luz plucked the bag out of Claire’s hand “Amity loves eyeball pudding, oh man this will be such a great surprise for her–”

It took her a few seconds to remember Claire’s presence “Sorry, yeah, she loves eyeballs,”

Claire giggled “No worries, mind helping me pack up?”

They finished loading up their cooler from Jorge’s, Luz didn’t think that the gang would be able to digest some of the bones Claire was packing up, but she was really looking forward to trying some of the organ meats. And the eyeballs were destined to a big bowl of eyeball pudding with Amity’s name on it.

After giving Jorge a large stack of cash they were back on their way, pulling a much heavier cooler behind them.

“Hey I know this is a bit of a stretch,” Luz asked as they walked away “But I’ve really been wanting to make Amity a fairy pie, but I didn’t think the human realm had fairies, but maybe you know a substitute?”

Claire tapped her chin with her free hand “Pixies might work, do they have those on the Boiling Isles? Here they’re tiny creatures that will fly into your head and make you see your worst fear,”

“Not really but they do have Grometheus the fear bringer who takes the shape of your greatest fear, he lives under the school, and every year the Grom King or Queen has to fight him so he doesn’t escape,”

“Wow, remind me to never complain about the Spring fling royalty challenge again,”

“Wait till I tell you how me and Amity became Grom Queens! So back to pixies, do we catch them ourselves or…”

“I think we might be able to pick them up at our next stop, along with swamp maggots and fungi, I have a feeling your friends will really like those,”

“Next stop?” Luz blinked back at her “Where else are we going?”

Claire just gave her a sly grin.

--

Luz just stared with her jaw hanging open, the sight before her so incredible all she could do was stand there and stare with her jaw on the ground. When Claire had brought her to the underpass of a canal bridge she hadn’t known what to think, then Claire had drawn a door in the concrete and brought her here. To a glowing magical crystal city right underneath Arcadia!

They had told them about Trollmarket, promised to bring them there, but Luz had never imagined it was so close, or so sparkly.

Claire chuckled as Luz tried to figure out how to pick her jaw up off the ground “Yeah it’s pretty cool isn’t it, we all had that reaction the first time,” she picked up the cooler with both handles “Ready to head in?”

Luz finally managed to shut her mouth and struggled to find her voice.

She was absolutely stoked to go explore a human world magical city, but her first day in the Boiling Isles had taught her a lot about taking things at face value.

“So is there any troll etiquette I should know? I don’t want to insult anyone’s mother by using my pinky finger wrong,”

“I don’t think so, most trolls are pretty chill if you leave them alone, sort of a ‘don’t bother me I won’t bother you’ sort of thing. Oh! But when they introduce themselves as ‘Son or daughter of so-and-so’ that’s how they give you their pronouns. And misgendering usually results in being thrown in a sinkhole,”

“Misgendering leads to sinkhole,” Luz gave a solemn nod “Understood,”

Heading into the market, Luz saw it was made up of various stalls and booths carved into the rock themselves. Stone was the most common building material, but here and there were bits of metal and wood, along with the occasional crystals. Pictographic neon signs indicated what each booth sold, some of them were easy to figure out, like the fish or the beer glass, but some of them, like the sock and the dead cat filled her with more questions than answers. Milling around were large stone creatures of every shape and size in every color of the rainbow, trolls. There were also…little men in pointy hats running around?

Claire followed her line of sight “Oh yeah, gnomes, they eat parasites off larger trolls, not overly dangerous but don’t touch their hats, that makes them super aggressive,”

Luz nodded, gingerly stepping around the small cluster of pointed red hats and followed Claire inside a small cave off the main building.

Stepping inside, Luz saw it looked like a fantasy version of a convenience store, with various items seemingly random lining the shelves, and a large curvy troll standing behind the counter.

“Hi Bagdwella,” Claire stepped up to the counter and gestured behind her “This is Luz, I’m showing her around shopping for some interspecies eats,”

“Hi, Luz daughter of Camila here,” Luz gave a small wave and joined Claire at the counter.

“Greetings Luz,” the troll folded their arms in front of them “I am Bagdwella, daughter of Gerdr, and I know this market better than anyone else and would be delighted to give you the inside scoop,”

“Oh that’s gre–”

“Up up up,” Bagdwella held up a hand “You didn’t let me finish, I would be delighted to give you the inside scoop, for the right price,”

Without missing a beat Claire reached into her backpack and pulled out a large plastic bag full of…socks? Ok between this and the neon sign  she was definitely going to have to ask Claire about the socks later. Handing it over to Bagdwella “Half now, half once we’re done. To make sure your intel’s as good as you say it is,”

Bagdwella raised the bag and gave it an sniff before turning an appraising glance towards Claire “Claire you are a devious, cold blooded customer,” she grinned, exposing a mouthful of sharp teeth “I taught you well,”

Tucking the bag underneath the table, Bagdwella stepped forward, both hands on the table “So what are you ladies in the market for today?”

“Do you know anyone who sells pixies?” Luz piped up right away “I have a recipe I really want to try with them,”

“I need to get some swamp maggots,” Claire added “And I want to check out different types of fungi,”

Bagdwella tapped her chin in thought, stone clinking against stone “Do you want fermented or plain swamp maggots?”

“Ideally some of both,”

After a few more seconds Bagdwella pulled a pen out of her hair and started scribbling on a scrap of paper in front of her “Braggis has the best fungus selection, so you’ll want to go to his stand. For swamp maggots you need to go to Til and Rags next to the apothecary, they don’t have a lot of stock but their swamp maggots are the highest quality in the market. Pixies are a bit trickier. No one really stocks them, but Dex down near the armory preserves pixies on the side, ask him about it and he’ll be delighted to sell you some, but he will talk your ear off,”

“Oh wow,” Luz picked up the scrap of paper “This is great, thank you!”

Bagdwella chuckled “You can thank me by never buying from my competitors. Now you’re crowding paying customers out of my shop, so unless you’re going to buy something shoo!”

Luz and Claire retreated as Bagdwella waved them off, Claire hauling the cooler and Luz still clutching the paper.

“Soooo….fermented swamp maggots?”

Claire giggled “Yeah even for trolls those are an acquired taste, but Jim likes them,”

“Well then, let's get shopping!”

[writer59january13]

This accidental arsonist sparked following matchless anecdote

I attribute being a grown mad scientist

linkedin with tacit approval of parents

(both long gone to the smoky afterlife),

and donned wizard trumpeting magic spells

while dark and stormy night

(one week before Halloween),

which usher nostalgic memories

encapsulated within the following poem

initially drafted quite some years ago.

Both parents possessed pedigreed panache

(but especially my father – renown Chemist

B.B. Harris and to slightly lesser extent

late culinary cuisine queen Harmit Harms

Kuritsky - gal whose troth thy then still

livingsocial nonagenarian widower papa

pledged, while holding some bubbling

sinister looking flask in hand while both

donned trumpeting finessed affianced

doctored formula to marry, when both

partook of blind date.

This combustible transunion link analogous

to their representative first electric kool aid

basic laboratory litmus test date), which

took place without a hitch, and telepathically

encouraged begetting retinue of revered

sons and daughters, whose ken hopefully

burned with passion KRISPR incubated,

inculcated, and incurred genetic outlook

ideally transmitted to prolific brood

of begotten babes.

This kid felt embers crackling, popping,

and snapping with yen that burned from

within and without buns sin burner of this

cingular earthlinked son.

No matter a bit tentative to experiment

willy-nilly (wonka like) with rather

explosive materiel, I received truckloads

of ammunition (in tandem with benevolent

benediction) to foster dare devil and

derelict pyromaniac precocity.

Those initial awkward formative forays

assaying, assessing and carefully calibrating

this, that or other liquid or powdery substance

found me meticulously measuring and

weighing the substances using kitchen

midden malodorous kid gloves.

Frequent disappointment arose from

yours truly as well as momma and papa

when net result (of these early attempts

to blend powders and/or liquids) merely

fizzled and self extinguished

into near inaudible poof.

Continual daily practice (would lead way

for me to enter Carnegie – Mellon ---- Hall)

after countless travails, trials and trolls i.e.

uber vaporous wisps to lyft yawping banshee

like holograms, or equivalent of 10,000 maniacs)

eventually bore successful fruit in the form

of near perfect results.

Success in hotly contested field Pyrotechnics

requires striking resemblance

to any other vocation.

One must be able, eager, ready and willing

to maintain burning passion no matter any

unforeseen setbacks or heat from an

objectionable source.

Yes, there would be an errant conflagration

(sometimes set purposely by adjunct professor)

as object lesson to master usage of fire

extinguisher/fighter, a vital piece of equipment

and evenhandedness for getting hold

instantaneously jetting kickstarter live matches)

to contain any runaway flame.

I do sheepishly admit to (ahem) you

on occasion the outcome went awry.

Nonetheless, they prided their potential

fire branded wizard in the making with

kudos and praise with DYNAMITE.

Practice from indiscriminately creating

unpredictable concoctions, these lethally

marshaled nonchalant opportunities

provided quintessentially random results

though usually very wimpy in tandem

with totally tubular nerdy, geeky, freaky,

and dorky beastie boy.

As proof positive and proud testimony, they

proudly pointed (upward) to the kitchen ceiling.

There such handiworks practically covered

entire ceiling with variegated splotches.

These scorch marks keepsake frescoes to show

kith and kin unspecified years into smoky future.

Quite accurate to assume

father and mother coached,

goaded, and nurtured

exploratory ambitions and

tried not to stifle

(at least consciously or deliberately)

my early stage ambition

toward scientific artiste bent.

As homeschooled and to some extent self taught

chemically romanced muralist, I grew up (not

surprisingly) in Unitarian household paid

close attention also adhered to the pioneer spirit.

The near limitless boundaries of life, liberty and

pursuit of understanding

an underlying credo, which

allowed, enabled and provided near endless

experimentation even at the risk of life and limb.

Aside talking head

nearly burning down the house

amidst talking heads practically in dire straits,

an instinctive reflex found me immolating myself,

occasionally singeing the canine fur of Lady,

Schultz, or Socrates, et cetera no frightful

catastrophic outcomes occurred thru milieu

of mixing deceptively harmless looking

inert raw materials.

Trial and error (quite successful with latter)

via blithely cooking dicey elements forming

goulash hiccupping laboratory mishmash

practically eliminated any pained regret to take

daring risks (such as getting married – ha)

in later life.

Despite favorable and lovable upbringing,

my mother (ever the protector and/or proctor

of our family and an excellent chef boyardee

to boot) still managed to insinuate (gently

as possible) the necessity to be careful when

igniting flammable materials lest

some uncontrollable conflagration ensue.

She (mom) did frequently confess to feeling

ever so slightly jittery and uneasy with my

slapdash amateurish homebrewed pyrotechnics

and much preferred to steer my attention toward

safer hobby such as the edible objets d’arts i.e.,

the much more drab field per how to present

and aesthetically appealing and nutritious meal.

Fondness to prepare food and pretend to be

faux renowned cook (this confession admitted

rather baldly and obviously deduced) actually

competed for my most favorite avocation activity

and spare leisure time.

In other words, this chap did relish designing

his own recipes mainly from leftovers in tandem

with unpronounceable multisyllabic organic

compounds filled numerous sized dishes

and aged apothecary bottles respectively.

Without question though, the passion plus

less riskier factor to combine and potchka

dry and wet ingredients together did rank

as considerably safer medium that still

allowed, enabled and provided me an equal

opportunity to test reactions, than those

earlier iterated potentially explosive hazards.

Nonetheless, my cavalier crusading overactive

appetite, hunger and thirst to discover causative

outcomes (even with purportedly innocuous

looking household cleaning supplies or easily

acquired inert materiel) nearly witnessed an

apocalypse at three two four Level Road

on one particular nasty occasion.

I anticipated our domicile would become

rent asunder, and reduced into a black

and decker ashen funeral pyre, yet for

grace of some divine force no family

members nor pets succumbed

nor got asphyxiated from choking acrid air.

[sleepyyy]

took the day off work to troll around and see if i could spot some Guys...and i certainly did lol!

I did some walking around the area earlier in the morning to see if anyone was poking around and seeing if there were any raids I could do (both to no avail lol)

So then I headed around to the back of the arena, and was the only one there for about an hour! Yuta came out first and was v cute when i asked for a picture! I wished him luck for his match (which maybe I shouldn't have lol? I honestly forgot he's going up against the Hometown Hero tonight 🤦🏼‍♂️ lmao whoops I Just Hope Both Teams Have Fun lol)

Then a few minutes later, Bryan and Lord Regal came out! When I asked for pics, at first only Brian came over, and i called for Regal to come over too! Alas, my arms were too short to get a picture of all of us...so Regal suggested we do them one at a time, which went swimmingly. After my pic w Regal, he pointed to my Revolver tattoo and said "Oh, nice!" so that was cool lmao 😹

Then a little while later, Pac and Alex showed up together! A few other fans had showed up at this point, and one of them asked Pac for pictures, to which he responded, "I don't do pictures! I'm a bastard!" 😹😹😹 But Alex was super sweet and took pictures with us, and I told him I hope his ankle got better soon 😿

Athena arrived, but didn't want to do pictures, so I just waved...but she smiled and waved back so I was having an Extremely Gay Moment lmao

Then MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN DROVE UP!! He didn't stop for pictures, but he actually Smiled and Waved at us as he drove by...very genial of him, lmao.

I also caught a glimpse of the the Bucks after they got dropped off...but only their backs lmao, and no Kenny to be seen...but it was still pretty exciting after the Bullshit that took place after the ppv lmao, and we weren't sure who would be here, lol...

Ethan Page, Mark Sterling and...someone else showed up, and Ethan stuck around to take pics with us! He was super sweet and Super Handsome, omfg 😻

After that, a lot more of the people that showed up didn't stop for pics and drove right in, but I caught glimpses of Nyla, maybe Swerve (I didn't see him, but one of the other guys did lol), Sanjay, QT Marshall, Darby and possibly Keirra Hogan and one of the other baddies! There might have been more that I missed or didn't recognize, too lmao.

I didn't get to see Hangy or Kennes, but I'm still pretty jazzed I got to see so many guys!! 😻😻😻

And now I'm back home and excited for the show! My planned outfit is a bit...unfortunate, considering what happened on Sunday, but I made up some signs to cover my ass from looking like a complete dick lmao.

[littlefreya]

The Kitten & the Bear - Part 1

Intro: This story is a collab and was written by both @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ and I. It was born out of a fun role play we have going on. We ended up having so much a fun with this particular idea that we thought we should post it as a 3 part story and share it with the rest!

| Read Part 2  | Read Part 3 |

Summary: After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans. 

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov) 

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Bratty behaviour, vandalism, dominant overprotectiveness, BDE, husband stalking his wife, sexual innuendo, dirty inappropriate talks, mentions of sex and oral, weed and alcohol usage. Sex in the next parts :D Walter is a Boomer. 

A/N: We didn’t beta it and did transform it from 2nd to 1st person POV, really hoping you guys will enjoy it as we did. Feel free to share your thoughts. 

Title: The Kitten & the Bear

Nothing chilled my heart more than waking up in an empty bed. Walter was already gone, leaving his side of the mattress cold and abandoned. A heavy sigh broke from my lips, I stroked the ghost of the kiss that still tingled on my cheek, knowing he planted it there before heading to work. 

Sadness seeped into my heart as I realised I won't see him today. Our work scheduled conflicted and I have scheduled a "date night" with my girls in the evening. Picking up my phone, I texted him a pouty emoji and then headed to get my day started.

Walter left me on read, which just fuelled the brat in me. When he called during his lunch break, he was taciturn as usual, and most of the call was about his disapproval of us girls going out without at least one male friend or a boyfriend to chaperone.

"Oh my god, Walter, this is not the 50s! Women can leave their house without a husband tagging along!" I grunted and berated him, "stop acting like someone is going to kidnap me!!! I'm an adult woman!" I snapped at him while sitting at the cafe. People sitting around stared quietly as I hung up the phone, and stormed out.

~~~

Walter looked at his mobile phone, shocked. He couldn't even remember the last time someone hung up on him, let along his wife.

"Fucking brat," he muttered as he pocketed it. 

After lunch, he went into the precinct. Since it was flu season and they were having a shortage of uniformed officers, he volunteered to patrol tonight. Assuming he might even be able to check up on me wherever I get to town. Just to keep me safe. That's right. Not from jealousy. Not because I'll be all dolled up and tipsy and every man in the vicinity will ogle me.

~~~

As the evening loomed, I was in dire need of letting loose. Walter had left me incredibly frustrated, acting like a police officer from hell rather than my husband. Going through my closet, I stumbled upon the most outrageous piece of wardrobe: a black strappy thing with corset details at the front. The same one I've worn for our first date which of course ended up with Walter and I dry humping like two horny teenagers at the back of his truck and him eating me out until I came all over his beard 4 times. 

I slapped a dark red lipstick and put on a pair of red "fuck me" pumps before leaving to meet the gals in a new night club that had just opened. I might or might not have a rolled-up joint in my purse.

~~~

Walter was sitting in a patrol vehicle on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with translucent walls. We were all sitting beside the window at a small table full of cocktail glasses, but the girls were gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and was wearing a beanie. 

But he didn't need it. He knew I was oblivious to him and also to the men staring at me from 3 different tables. He ground his teeth frustrated when he first noticed that I was wearing that dress. His blood boiled as I was slowly sipping a cocktail with a sexy little pout around the long straw.

"Let's dance!!! I wanna dance!!!" I whined at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture was slightly unstable after two cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She followed me to the dance floor while Stephanie remained in her seat, talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He'd been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully. 

After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that didn't leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remembered the little treat I had in my purse and decided we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air. 

I grabbed the girls, and we walked outside.

"Okay, don't you dare mention this to Walter," I warned them as I took the joint out from my purse.

"Daddy Magnum gonna punish you?" Steph teased while I lit the weed. 

"Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is Mad Man or something." 

"Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!" Keylah teased, and we all laughed hysterically. 

~~~

Unbeknownst to me, Walter was watching us dance from his patrol car, getting more and more frustrated by the hour. He observed as I gathered both girls and came out on the street, walking a couple of meters away from the entrance. A frown fell on his face as he saw me taking a lighter out from my purse.

"She doesn't even smoke, what the hell?" he fumed. 

His eyes widened when he saw the telltale shape of a joint between my fingers. His mouth was agape as I lit it up and started smoking and passing it around. "What the fuck? Where did she get that?" he muttered incredulously.

'It's fucking illegal in Minnesota, what the fuck? A cop's wife at that!' He thought, rage simmering in his gut.  

The police radio suddenly began buzzing, the sergeant calling on the line. 

"Hey Marshall, Toby came in for the night shift after all. Do you want him to keep you company?" 

'And see Walter's wife going to town on a spliff? No fucking way.' 

"No, Sarge, thanks. It's uh... calm tonight." He frowned from afar. "Nothing but law-abiding citizens," he replied, hoping his sarcasm didn't go through while he was watching the wife of a respected detective drunk and smoking weed in the great outdoors.

"All right" the sarge concluded and cut the line, and Walter put back the radio.

‘Un-fucking-believable.'

~~~

The girls and I fell into a fit of wild giggles, thoroughly buzzed and high at the same time. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I didn't even bother fixing it as the combination of drugs and alcohol made me frivolous and careless. 

"Is Walter such a nerd in bed too? Is he one of those guys who won't even make a sound because they are ashamed of it?" Stephanie asked to which I immediately snorted.

"Walter fucks like a beast from hell," I answered and put off the remains of the joint against the heel of my shoe. 

"I had to go to the gyno at least four times in the past because he was too violent, and trust me, the noise he makes, luckily no one called the police yet…" 

"Jennifer, your husband is the police!" Keylah answered, and we burst into another fit of giggles which then gradually died down. 

The same man who bugged us from before followed us outside, giving us some stares and making a suckling voice with his lips. I snorted at him and told him to fuck off before putting my arms around my girls. 

"This place sucks, let's go grab something to eat from the store, if Walter sees me like this I will NEVER hear the end of it".

~~~

Walter was watching us walk away, still furious about my illicit behaviour. He promised himself that he'd have a serious conversation with me about this tomorrow. He gave us two blocks of a head start and then ignited the engine of the car and made a U-turn, slowly he rolled towards the store and saw us enter. He made another U-turn in front of the store to park across the street. He just hoped that we'll buy some nachos and a coke and then call it a night, and call a cab to go home.

~~~

It was close to 1am. We barged into the store, marching through as if we owned the place. Keylah stopped by the condoms section and threw a bottle of lube in my direction. "Here you go, Jennifer, you gonna need it".

I laughed and threw it back at her, grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water. 

"Better fuck his brains before he starts asking where you've been tonight," Stephanie added. 

"Can you girls please behave?" The clerk-lady requested politely, giving us a prudent look. I rolled my eyes at her and then stopped short as I saw a large stuffed grizzly bear that reminded me of Walter. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly just as I got the sudden urge to misbehave.

"Girls…" I whispered, making them come closer, "bet you a 20 I can sneak this out without paying!"

~~~

Walter's shoulders slumped, and he let out an irritated groan when he saw one of the girls throwing things inside the store. Though, he sighed in relief when I paused this stupid game, and a small smile tugged the edge of his mouth when I hugged a huge stuffed bear that reached down to my thighs and was high above the top of my head as I squeezed it to my torso. 

The way I looked at the bear reminded him of the loving looks I always gave him. But a sense of foreboding assaulted him as we started whispering and pointed at the door.

~~~

"Okay, okay… shush!" I whispered way too obvious and held the stuffed animal behind my back.

"Hey Keylah, can you pay for my chips?" I asked and backed away toward the door, nearly stumbling on my heels and holding the laughter in my gut. 

Noticing my attempt, the old woman cleared her throat, giving me a glare, "You are going to have to pay for that or I will call the police…"

"Her husb…"

"Shut up, Stephanie!" Keylah shouted and threw a bottle of lube in her direction, accidently hitting my shoulder, which made me drop the bear on the floor. 

"Key, you fucking bitch!!!" I answered and picked up the bottle, throwing it back at her. 

"Hey stop that!!!!" The clerk demanded and walked back behind the counter, picking up her phone. 

We ignored her, laughing like schoolgirls and throwing the bottle back and forth between us. Boxes of tampons and condoms fell to the floor as we moved through the hygiene section shouting playfully. 

As Keylah threw the bottle at me for the 12th time, I lifted it and threw it so hard it hit the window and broke it, causing the store's alarm to go off immediately.

"Oh… fu……..ck" I uttered.

~~~

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Walter panicked as he saw us vandalising the store. He was immediately ready to jump out of the car, but then it would be obvious he'd been keeping an eye on me. He had to wait for the call. 

He wasn't even hoping that the clerk would not involve the police in the matter. She has to. ‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.’ 

When he saw the lady picking up the phone, he buried his face in his palms and rubbed it tiredly.

"Stupid, fucking bitches" he sighed, not believing his wife being so reckless. 

He picked up the buzzing radio and said, "Marshall. I'm here. On it." 

Without delay, he took the beanie off and got out of the car with his badge and gun ready.

~~~

Fingers dug into my hair, I stared wide-eyed at the broken window, immediately regretting all my decisions in the last couple of hours. 

'Walter was going to fucking kill me'. 

"I am soooooooo……." I began to say, turning to the clerk slowly while Keylah and Steph held their hands over their mouths. "So sorry." I stretched out while the alarm continued ringing in my ears. 

Then just like out of a nightmare, stepping through shards of broken glass with his big black boots, I saw Walter walking in, his brows knit together, his badge and his gun held out but kept low. He was enormous and menacing, yet the sight of him comforted me.

"Oh thank god, it's you!" I call out relieved.

~~~

The glass cracked beneath his steps as he walked in. He looked around and checked the store for cameras. 'Fuck, there were CCTVs'. 

He hoped to snatch me away and take care of the situation without involving... well himself but now that there was evidence it wasn't possible anymore. I was looking at him like a frightened little girl, but he couldn't help me, and frankly, he didn't feel like it either.

He looked at the clerk, showed her his badge and said in a neutral tone "MPD. What seems to be the problem?" 

~~~

My breath hitched at his "cop voice" and the way he asked the clerk. 

Stepping back and standing in the middle of the group, the three of us gaped at him with utter dumbfoundedness. Both my heart and gut dropped to the messy floor out of fear, and the way he carried himself, looking so menacing and authoritative made my panties drenched with arousal. 

"Officer, thank god you arrived! These three tried to steal a stuffed animal and started wreaking havoc in the store, throwing stuff around like children and speaking offensively!" The old woman explained and stood in the middle of the mess, looking helpless. 

My eyes rounded with false innocence, and I nibbled my bottom lip, giving Walter a vulnerable look. 

Walter was patiently listening to the clerk. Not a muscle flinched on his face as if he'd known everything. He took his notebook and a report form out and took care of the paperwork. 

The old lady eyed the three of us nervously while Walter was scribbling, and she hesitantly asked, "I'm sorry, Officer, but shouldn't you handcuff them? They might run."

Walter's curly head lifted, and he flashed the lady a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, ma'am. They won't run."

"Is he serious?" Steph whispered, and I elbowed her, giving Walter a rather pissed off smile as he pretended not to know us at all and treated me like any other criminal.

Was it that just for show? Probably. We were going to have a serious talk about boundaries once we'd get home.

Walter finished writing his report and made the lady sign it before turning to look at the three of us, clenching his jaw. 

After a long, stern silence, I finally spoke, "Can I still get the teddy bear?"

Walter's nostrils flared as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a 20-dollar bill, slammed it on the counter and said to the clerk "For the bear."

At first, the lady was dumbfounded, then she blurted out outraged "Why are you buying a gift for a criminal?"

Walter didn't even spare her a look. He picked up the bear and looked at me with unflinching, stern eyes that made all three of us take a step backwards.

"Because she's my fucking wife."

The tone of his voice made the three of us startle, and I released a small gasp, seeing the look on his face. Walter made a gesture with his hand singling us to walk out of the store in order, and we did as he commanded. At the same time, my eyes gave him a mischievous smirk, mistaking this behaviour for a show.

Walter left the store last and immediately commanded, "To the car".

When we got there on the opposite side of the street, he opened the car and shoved the teddy bear on the passenger seat, then turned back, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at all three of us. 

"Here's how it's gonna happen. We go in the precinct, fill out the forms, you stay the night, and most likely will be charged with a misdemeanour. Although the weed might be more problematic." He glared at me pointedly. 

The girls and I collectively gasped. 

"Now get in the back seat, all of you."

With shuddering legs, Keylah and Steph obediently entered the patrol car. I stared at Walter as he stood there towering over me, his massive arms crossed around his broad chest.

Still intoxicated, I looked at him with disbelief, realising two things: he arrived at the scene in less than two minutes after the lady called the police, which is impossible. And two, he couldn't possibly know I had weed on me unless… 

"Were you stalking me?!" I called out, ignoring the police officer and speaking to my husband. My hands went to my hips, my face sulking. 

"Oh my god, Walter! You were! Weren't you?" I frowned and shook my head, grunting with disgust.

"You are in no position to reproach me for anything right now", Walter said, seemingly calm. "But if you wanna know, I was patrolling in the neighbourhood and decided to check up on you. I saw the way you were shaking your ass for strangers" he spat, but he let his eyes roam the tight dress, and the way he subtly licked his lips made me sure he remembered exactly which dress it was.

"Do as you're fucking told and get in the car or you're gonna find yourself in even bigger trouble." 

"Oh my god, Walter!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled at him and stepped back, throwing my hands in the air furiously.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!! MY OWN HUSBAND STALKING ME?! What's next Walter? You gonna put an ankle bracelet thingy on me, so I don't get to leave the house without your fucking permission?!"

I got so angry, my hands pushed at his chest, to which he didn't even budge, and only his jaw tightened.

"I am NOT getting into that car, and you are going to let Keylah and Steph go before you are going to be in trouble!"

Keylah and Steph were both watching with utter fascination as they saw the growing tension in Walter's posture.

Once Keylah and Steph were inside the car, they felt like the immediate danger was over. Their drunkenness and high made them reckless again and they started cheering me in the verbal fight with my husband.

Walter was on the verge of bursting, it was evident from his face. He took a menacing step towards me and despite my anger, a pang of arousal shot in my core.

"Get. in the. fucking. car" he growled in a barely audible voice. He gave me one last chance to voluntarily obey him.

I moved closer toward him, my head tilting up to meet his menacing gaze, my breasts ghostly brushing against his hard torso.

"I am not going anywhere with you," I answered unflinchingly. "Keep this attitude up, and the whole town will get to enjoy me swaying this ass long before you do." I teasingly slapped my own ass and then smirked arrogantly as I heard the girls cheering at the backseat

"That's it."

Quick as lightning, Walter's hands uncrossed and shot out. He grabbed my arms, turned me around with dizzying speed and slammed my torso down on the hood of the police car.

"Jennifer Marshall, you are under arrest for destruction of property, public intoxication and obstruction of a law enforcement officer."

I gasped incredulously as I felt the metal handcuffs closing on my wrists while Walter was performing his duty automatically and methodically. I'd never seen him make an arrest, let alone manhandle me like this.

With my cheek pressed against the cold metal, I could see both Keylah and Steph gape at us, eyes and mouth wide with daze. 

Still intoxicated, I hissed as a shiver of fear and sexual arousal shot through my spine, creeping all the way down to my throbbing core. 

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I cried out in protest. "I am your wife!"

My attempt to stand up brought my ass to collide with his crotch, where I felt the unmistakable throb of his blood circulating down to his groin. 

"Are you also getting the feeling that they're gonna fuck?" Steph whispered to Keylah, loud enough for us to hear.

"Shush!" she answered and stared, licking her lips. 

"Let me go, you fucking pig!" I screamed and squirmed on the hood helplessly. 

"Anything you say will be held against you in the court of law" Walter continued in his deep cop voice as if I hadn't even spoken.

"Say his dick, girl!" Keylah shouted, and Steph wooed, but they quickly shut up and resorted to concealed giggling as Walter shot angry eyes at them. He stepped closer to secure his hold on the handcuffs, and I felt the warm coarse material of his jeans at the back of my thighs.

"If you don't want to add resisting arrest and possession of narcotics to your offences, shut the fuck up and stop squirming."

"Fuck” I hissed, which didn't go unnoticed by Walter. My ass naturally shifted against his hardening bulge, and I moaned gently, not loud enough for the girls to hear but definitely heard by Walter, who had his hand around my cuffed wrists.

"You're enjoying this, big guy?" I spit out sardonically, "controlling your wife like you always want to, hmm?"

With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.

"I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me."

[a-room-of-my-own]

Have you read "An Apology to JK Rowling" by Petra Bueskens on Areo? I'm pathetically grateful to read something so clever and well articulated on the subject after the amount of abuse JK has been subjected to

It's a great piece so here it is, thank you anon!

 Rowling recently published an eminently reasonable, heartfelt treatise, outlining why it is important to preserve the category of woman. There’s only one thing wrong with it: it assumes a rational interlocutor. Rowling outlines why the biological and legal category of sex is important: in sports, in rape crisis shelters, in prisons, in toilets and changing rooms, for lesbians who want to sleep with natal women only and at the level of reality in general. Rowling marshals her experiences as an androgynous girl, as a domestic violence and sexual assault survivor and as someone familiar with the emotional perils of social media, in ways that have resonated with many women (and men). Her writing is clear, unpretentious, thoughtful, moving, vulnerable and honest. At no point does she use exclusionary or hostile language or say that trans women do not exist, have no right to exist or that she wants to rob them of their rights. Her position is that natal women exist and have a right to limit access to their political and personal spaces. Period.

Of course, to assume that her missive would be engaged with in the spirit in which it was intended, is to make the mistake of imagining that the identitarian left is broadly committed to secular, rational discourse. It is not. Its activist component has transmogrified into a religious movement, which brooks no opposition and no discussion. You must agree with every tenet or else you’re a racist, sexist, transphobic bigot, etc. Because its followers are fanatics, Rowling is being subjected to an extraordinary level of abuse. There seems to be no cognitive dissonance among those who accuse her of insensitivity and then proceed to call her a cunt, bitch or hag and insist that they want to assault and even kill her (see this compilation of tweets on Medium). She has been accused of ruining childhoods. Some even claim that the actor Daniel Radcliffe wrote the Harry Potter books—reality has become optional for some of these identitarians. Rowling’s age, menstrual status and vagina come in for particularly nasty attention and many trans women (or those masquerading as such) write of wanting to sexually assault her with lady cock, as a punishment for speaking out. I haven’t seen misogyny like this since Julia Gillard became our prime minister.

The Balkanisation of culture into silos of unreason means that the responses have not followed what might be loosely called the pre-digital rules of discourse. These rules assume that the purpose of public debate is to discern truth and that interlocutors on opposing sides—a reductionist bifurcation, because, in fact, there are many sides—engage in argument because they are interested in something higher than themselves: an ideal of truth, no matter how complicated, multifaceted and evolving. While in-group preferences and biases are inevitable, these exist within an overarching deliberative framework. This style of dialogue assumes the validity of a persuasive argument grounded in reason and evidence, even if—as Rowling does—it also utilises experience and feeling. By default, it assumes that civil conflict and opposition are essential devices in the pursuit of truth.

Three decades of postmodernism and ten years of Twitter have destroyed these conventions and, together with them, the shared norms by which we create and sustain social consensus. There is no grounding metanarrative, there are no binding norms of civil discourse in the digital age. Indeed, as Jaron Lanier shows with his bummer paradigm (Behaviours of Users Modified and Made into an Empire for Rent) social media is destroying the fabric of our personal and political lives (although, with a different business model and more robust regulation, it need not do so). The algorithm searching for and recording your every click, like and share, your every purchase, search term, conversation, movement, facial expression, social connection and preference rewards engagement above all else—which means that your feed—an aptly infantile descriptor—will quickly become full of the things you and others like you are most likely to be motivated to click, like and share. Outrage is a more effective mechanism through which to foster engagement than almost anything else. In Lanier’s terms, this produces a “menagerie of wraiths”—a bunch of digitised dementors: fake and bad actors, paid troll armies and dyspeptic bots—designed to confect mob outrage.

The norms of civil discourse are being eroded, as we increasingly inhabit individualised media ecosystems, designed to addict, distract, absorb, outrage, manipulate and incite us. These internecine culture wars damage us all. As Lanier notes, social media is biased “not towards the left or right but downwards.” As a result, we are witnessing a catastrophic decline in the standards of our democratic institutions and discourse. Nowhere is this more evident than in the contemporary culture wars around the trans question, where confected outrage is the norm.

This is why the furore over Rowling’s blog post misses the point: whether we agree with her or not, the problem is the collapse of our capacity to disagree constructively. If you deal primarily in subjective experience and impulse-driven reaction, under the assumption that you occupy the undisputed moral high ground, and you’ve been incited by fake news and want to signal your allegiances to your social media friends, then you can’t engage in rational discussion with your opponent. Your stock in trade will be unsubstantiated accusations and social shaming.

In this discombobulating universe, sex-based rights are turned into insults against trans people. Gender-critical feminists are recast as immoral bigots, engaged in deliberately hurtful, even life-threatening, speech. Rowling is not who we thought she was, her ex-fans wail, her characters and plots conceal hidden reservoirs of homophobia and bigotry. A few grandstanders attempt to distinguish themselves by saying that they have always been able to smell a rat—no, not Scabbers—and therefore hated the books from the outset. Nowhere amid this morass of moral grandstanding and outrage is there any serious engagement with her ideas.

Those of us on the left—and left-wing feminists in particular—who find trans ideology fraught, for all the reasons Rowling outlines, are a very small group. While Rowling is clearly privileged, she has also become the figurehead of a rapidly dwindling and increasingly vilified group of feminists, pejoratively labelled terfs, who want to preserve women’s sex-based rights and spaces. Although our arguments align with centrist, conservative and common sense positions, ours is not the prevailing view in academia, public service or the media, arts and culture industries, where we are most likely to be located (when we are not at home with our children). In most of these workplaces, a sex-based rights position is defined a priori as bigoted, indeed as hate speech. It can get us fired, attacked, socially ostracised and even assaulted.

As leftist thinkers who believe in freedom of speech and thought, who find creeping ideological and bureaucratic control alarming, we are horrified by these increasingly vicious denunciations by the left. The centre right and libertarians—the neo-cons, post-liberals and the IDW—are invariably smug about how funny it is to watch the left eat itself. But it’s true: some progressive circles are now defined by a call out/cancel culture to rival that of the most repressive of totalitarian states. Historically, it was progressives who fought against limits on freedom of speech and action. But the digital–identitarian left split off from the old print-based left some time ago, and has become its own beast. A contingent of us are deeply critical of these new directions.

Only a few on the left have had the gumption to speak up for us. Few have even defended our right to express our opinions. Those who have spoken out include former media darlings Germaine Greer and Michael Leunig. Many reader comments on left-leaning news sites claim that Rowling is to blame for the ill treatment she is suffering. Rowling can bask in the consequences of her free speech, they claim, as if having a different opinion from the woke majority means that she is no longer entitled to respect, and that any and all abuse is warranted—or, at least, to be expected. Where is the outrage on her behalf? Where are the writers, film makers, actors and artists defending her right to speak her mind?

Of course, the actors from the Harry Potter films are under no obligation to agree with JK Rowling just because she made them famous. They don’t owe her their ideological fealty: but they owe her better forms of disagreement. When Daniel Radcliffe repeats the nonsensical chant trans women are women, he’s not developing an argument, he’s reciting a mantra. When he invokes experts, who supposedly know more about the subject than Rowling, he betrays his ignorance of how contested the topic of transgender medicine actually is: for example, within endocrinology, paediatrics, psychiatry, sociology, and psychology (the controversies within the latter discipline have been demonstrated by the numerous recent resignations from the prestigious Tavistock and Portman gender identity clinic). The experts are a long way from consensus in what remains a politically fraught field.

Trans women are women is not an engaged reply. It is a mere arrangement of words, which presupposes a faith that cannot be questioned. To question it, we are told, causes harm—an assertion that transforms discussion into a thought crime. If questioning this orthodoxy is tantamount to abuse, then feminists and other dissenters have been gaslit out of the discussion before they can even enter it. This is especially pernicious because feminists in the west have been fighting patriarchy for several hundred years and we do not intend our cause to be derailed at the eleventh hour by an infinitesimal number of natal males, who have decided that they are women. Now, we are told, trans women are women, but natal females are menstruators. I can’t imagine what the suffragists would have made of this patently absurd turn of events.

There has been a cacophony of apologies to the trans community for Rowling’s apparently tendentious and hate-filled words. But no one has paused to apologise to Rowling for the torrent of abuse she has suffered and for being mischaracterised so profoundly.

So, I’m sorry, JK Rowling. I’m sorry that you will not receive the respectful disagreement you deserve: disagreement with your ideas not your person, disagreement with your politics, rather than accusations of wrongspeak. I’m sorry that schools, publishing staff and fan clubs are now cancelling you. And I’m sorry that you will be punished—because cancel culture is all about punishment. I’m sorry that you are being burned at the digital stake for expressing an opinion that goes against the grain.

But remember this, JK—however counterintuitive this may seem to progressives, whose natural home is on the fringe—most people are looking on incredulously at the disconnect between culture and reality. Despite raucous protestations to the contrary, you are on the right side of history—not just because of the points you make, but because of how you make them.

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft, Dementlieu arc, part 4

OOC: Lets see if we can group team evil up for another fireball... GM: Oh they aren't falling for that trick twice. "Drat! The only weakness to our brilliant plans... Common Sense." "Its not as common as the name would suggest." Damiel: "Oh no, my racism has come back to bite me." OOC: How does he have a bloodshot glass eye? OOC: Starfleet security commander occupational benefit. GM: This thing is not interested in fighting. In fact near as you can tell it's not interested in anything. It's basically like a sad old man sitting in a retirement home. Marshal leans towards the others, whispers, "Did we happen to it?" Marshal moves to intercept Jonni's casting. With his face, if need be. 'I suggest you calm your pyromancer friend.' Gorbash: "<Will do. That's practically a full time job.>" “Guys, I’m coming back later and I’m gonna murder the shit out of that fish. He’s on the list.” "But you need crowns and processions and... pageantry to rule. Ruling behind the scenes is just.... it's like.... I don't know. Like a BLT sandwich with just the L and T." (So he's in an asylum, thinking he's napoleon.) Ooc: Worse, he’s Napoleon in an asylum, thinking he’s the head doctor. OOC: Quick, someone get a giant Napoleon hat to [put] on the Colonel {an aboleth}. Gorbash: "You know, it's not always Nima's fault. We aren't even in the same domain." "Apologies, you look like a servant of another necromancer we know and despise. I don't mean to be vitalist." "Begone undead hordes! Begone and return from whence you came beyond the shrouds of mortality!" Irost shouted, his voice booming with thaumaturgy. GM: This Deathlok is dressed in red robes, with a gold crown. Irost: "And tell me your tailor!" Gorbash draws his Sunblade. "Counter Proposal. Piss off back to your graves or we'll make you new ones." Jonni: “I will Rez this sack of crap and then skull fork them to death!" GM: You literally cut the ogre zombies legs out from under it, however it's still moving about on the ground, it's not dead yet. Marshal: "Yes you are, shut up." Gorbash: "She slices, she dices, she reduces undead horrors into mince." Gorbash: "WHY DOES THIS DOMAIN KEEP DROPPING ABERRATIONS IN MY LAP!" Irost: "Really... this is the third one today isn't it? First the play, then the not-whale..." OOC: The dark powers are those edgelord twitter trolls who are like "You triggered bro?" GM: The crowd cheers even as they are pelted with zombie bits. Jonni: “I am kink shaming this crowd. ME.” OOC: Psi deserves to stab the shit out of many many things. OOC: I want the zombolder dead. More Dead. It could be deader. GM: You have to desecrate the corpse to make sure. OOC: I will Weekend at Bernie's this thing to desecrate it badly. GM: Also I should note Damiel and Linxia are in the crowd, eating roasted chestnuts and enjoying the show. They have a little flag that says "Zombies #1". OOC: I could have stripped naked and not been hit. Granted, they’d have to fight through throngs of ladies to try. Jonni: “Nice try, asshole, you know how limber I have to be to play naked Twister!?” Jonni Wishes for L to come kick him in the happy sack. Nyx: "Damiel, I'm going to remember that later. My daggers haven't hit someone in the groin in a while, I'm going to remedy that." "No one hits my brother....except maybe me. But only when he's being a jerk. Which is not often." "Wait.. am I the ONLY one who got hit through all of this!?" Irost said, looking around. Jonni: “Hey, I almost got paralyzed outside of sexy times!” “I need to wash zombie off.” Gorbash freezes at the mention of the play. No he isn't going to be paralyzed by this. "No, Don't refuse on my account." Marshal: "I mean, we'll probably wind up going anyway, if only to save the victims." Jonni: “No worries, it’s gonna mind melt everyone there. Hey! We could get the box after the play kills him!” Irost: "We found out there is an old and very deluded fish guy in the aquarium..." "I think he keeps it close... Really close to the chest." “Pretty sure he keeps it in his Spark Chamber.” OOC1: No, death saves on something should not be happening until the mid tiers IMHO. ...that’s on wizards for designing that. I will speak to their manager and demand free transformers! OOC2: And ponies for Jenny. "I won't say a word...you're both very very Lucky. And if she ever breaks you heart I would be obligated to cut out hers and present it to you." And thus the tradition of Valentines was born.

[beck-a-leck]

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions

Tagged by @thychesters Thanks Kate!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

56 on my main page, plus 5 others that are secret (aka Anonymous and don't show up in the count)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

772,412

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

~10, I have a lot of sub-fandoms as part of a larger fandom. Including but not limited to: Star Wars, Story of Seasons/Harvest Moon, Rune Factory, MCU, and many moons ago Voltron, Transformers, and Harry Potter.

4. What are your top 5 fics by Kudos?

[Redacted Anonymous fic] at 1218

Aggressive Negotiations at 312

Wells of Silence at 287

[Redacted Anonymous fic] at 280

Weekend Guests at 209

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! Or at the very least, I try to respond to as many comments as I can. I love being able to strike up conversation with my readers, and wallow in angst with them for a while. At the very least, I like letting them know I appreciate their feedback.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm... that's probably the fic where I gave Anakin Skywalker an almost happy ending; twins, husband, you know the drill. And then I violently took pretty much all of that away. Killed Obi-Wan, killed the twins, left her with a heaping pile of survivor's guilt. That's probably my angiestiest fic.

But also, I write rather a lot of angst, so...

There's also the one where I gave a child 23 older sisters, and then had them slowly and painfully die off, leaving her alone as the sole survivor. (Star Wars)

And there's the one where I detailed how an 8 year old accidentally killed his brother, thus screwing up everything so badly, the whole timeline had to be erased. (Loki)

And, well, Wells of Silence IS a canon compliant AU. And we all know how Revenge of the Sith ends.

Writing angst is fun okay!

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not really, no. Usually only when I'm messing around and being goofy, or if I'm combining a lot of sub-fandoms from a larger fandom group. But I don't really count those as true crossovers.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nothing specific comes to mind. I'm pretty sure years ago (and I mean like well over a decade at this point) I got trolled/hate on a fic by someone who was out to attack me specifically. I remember deleting the fic, and beginning to distance myself from the fandom. but obviously it didn't stop me from writing so... jokes on them. 😂

Otherwise, more recently I can only think of instances where people have used my fic comments as an excuse to vent about canon things they hate thinking they'll find a sympathetic ear, or got 5+ chapters into a long fic before saying 'it feels unrealistic that this character would do these things' to which I'm pretty sure I just shrug and don't respond.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't really write fanfic smut, no. It's not really my thing, and I'm happy cutting things off at an M/PG-13 rating for sexy times.

That being said, I have written non-fanfic smut before. No I'll never share it. It is well and truly laughably terrible.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To my knowledge, no I haven't.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Many, many, many years ago @jessi-08 and I co-wrote and absolute crack fic for Jak and Daxter. It was deliriously fun times. But in a more ""serious"" capacity, no I have not.

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Nobody? I guess?? I'm not much of a shipper, really. I enjoy reading and writing ship-content, but I've never really felt devoted to any single ship in any fandom. I'm a multi-shipper? Omni-shipper? Basically, if the fandom can bring its A-game to a ship, I'll probably quite enjoy it.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I mean, there are a couple dozen unfinished WIPs in my writing folder that I keep around with the intention of maybe finishing them, but deep down I never will. But also, none of those are posted.

Thinking of where I am and how my fandom interests have shifted, I'm probably never gonna finish Weekend Guests. And I stubbornly refuse to admit that Dust and Ashes is dead, but also, I haven't touched it in years, and kinda forgot what I wanted to include in the story. 😬

15. What are your writing strengths?

Oh gosh... (what is this question? I can't say nice things about myself)

I guess I would say my scene setting. I love spelling out descriptions and providing the sensory experience when I can in the scenery. Otherwise, probably my ability to sink my angst claws into people and hurt their feelings with words about fictional characters while I torture them worse than canon does (usually)

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sticking to a goddamn regular posting schedule. I try not to get too wrapped up in writing regularly, so as to not punish myself for doing (or not doing) something that's supposed to be fun and relaxing for me. but damn I look at those WIPs that haven't been updated in months and I can't help but feel guilty.

Also, tied in with the above, starting too many projects before finishing up something else.

Also action scenes. and romance.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

It can work, I think, if it's done well. But usually, it's not done well, and it just feels clunky or tossed in for "spice." But like... pet names/nicknames in a native tongue, I am so weak for those! And it can also be a fun way to drop hints/foreshadowing, but as a bonus for the people who speak the language.

Idk, I'm not fluent enough in any language to feel like I have any definitive voice in the matter. I typically don't add other language dialogue because I don't trust google translate.

And if I'm writing for Star Wars, and it's an alien language anyways, I'm not digging that deep into the lore to construct a fictional language. That shit gets Universally Translated babey!

18. What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Jak and Daxter my beloved! I'll never let you go! Every five years or so, I'll spit out a new fic for you 💜

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh no! I can't pick favorites! Don't do this to me!

Wells of Silence still sits up in my top 5, for a number of reasons.

Another of my tops is actually one of my Anonymously posted fics, so I will not mention name or fandom, but it is very beloved.

And they've been on the forefront of my mind, so I've got a soft spot for Earth and Rebirth and Our Dear Empress

20. Who do you tag?

Hmmm, let's see. @durotoswrites, @jake-marshall, @lookforaspoopynewangle (I know kate tagged you, but consider yourself double tagged), @jessi-08, and... I have all of a sudden gone completely blank on which of my mutuals writes fic 😂😬 (i only slept for 3 hours last night. leave me alone. my brain is swiss cheese.)

As always, if you want to play along, you are more than welcome to say I tagged you!

[ffxvficrec]

FFXV Secret Santa Round Up

Hello everyone! There are a few different exchanges going around this holiday season. We will be collecting them by exchange, and posting in bursts just to keep our posts from being super long.  

With that, we have the first round up for the FFXV Secret Santa. You can also check out the AO3 page. 

A few reminders-

- Please tread mindfully! Remember to look at the tags before reading. We have listed the main ship and the summary where able. 

- If we have missed your fic, please send a DM and we will get you added. We have only pulled from AO3, so if you have posted somewhere else we have not seen it.

Home Is Where You Are by HardNoctLife

Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia

Not everyone is stoked to see their family for the holidays. When Ignis asks Prompto to be his 'date' for his family's Winter Solstice get-together, chaos ensues.

Snowy Day by ShadCat

Prompto Argentum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Slight Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia

Noctis, Luna and Prompto enjoy the freshly fallen snow in Tenebrae together. What better way to enjoy the holidays than with the people you love?

All is Calm, All is Right by diefleder_tey 

Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia

It's been a rough year; first Noct got absorbed into the Crystal, then the light faded from the world. On the first Festival of the Glacian in the new long night, Prompto finds himself somewhat lost in the dark. What's he supposed to do now? How is he supposed to feel? But maybe, just maybe, the real problem is that he's been looking for the answers in the wrong place, and who better to ask about light through the darkness than Ignis….

A Lucian Rose by Knight of Flames (beetroot_of_doubt) 

Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia

Noctis is concerned that Ignis has been pulling away from him of late, but an encounter in the Citadel’s rose garden helps them both to communicate their feelings via the language of flowers.

A Stay at the Leville by Procrastynol 

Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia

Noctis and Prompto indulge in some frosty pillow talk. Meanwhile, Gladiolus and Ignis get steamy in the kitchen. 

Forged by GingerEl 

Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia Prompto’s never really had good Solstice holidays before so he doesn’t have any of his own traditions. His boyfriend’s set out to make that different.

Dawn Makes Fools of Us All by seaofolives

Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis ScientiaRavus Nox Fleuret/Cor Leonis

In the midst of Cor Leonis and Ravus Nox Fleuret's upcoming wedding, Gladiolus Amicitia finds himself in a race against time to admit his feelings for Ignis Scientia. 

Marshal Under The Mistletoe by TheDarkestDandelion

Ardyn Izunia/Cor Leonis

Ardyn is very impressed with Regis this year, for his nephew has managed to string together a perfect winter solstice ball all by himself!

However what he is not impressed with is that his beloved nephew has forced him to go and talk to his long time crush, Cor Leonis, and has not so subtly stationed Cor under the mistletoe for the entire event....

Yeah, Regis was a troll! But maybe a helpful one?

Prompto's First Winter Solstice Day by Movielover52

Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum

Prompto is used to spending the holidays alone. This year, however, he gets invited to spend the day with Gladio's family. Prompto can't believe it, especially since he's been crushing on Gladio for a while now.

And So, He Did by SalamanderSocks 

Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum

It was just a little white lie, what could it hurt to go along with it?

And so, they did.

All I Want for Solstice by MathClassWarfare 

Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum

[sparklecryptid]

Hi! I left A Thing in your Ao3 inbox. Royal bastard au pt 1. Enjoy! ❤️ IgnisFelicis

Whenever she cannot stand to look at Titus anymore without doing him harm, she takes solo missions or holiday time to go wreck some of Niffs plans. Drautos tries to tag along whenever possible and follow after her like a kicked puppy despite the fact that she is likely to run him through with her spear.

The Marshal starts getting more and more suspicious at the data he is getting from an anonymous source and seeing wrecked bases all over Lucis without being personally responsible for said destruction.

And then comes that day in cleigne, on the arches across the river.

And she refuses, completely refuses to let it happen as it did in the previous life. The deaths they prevented won't matter, if Niffs crush them now. She saw the mages falter. The Glaives fall, injured or dead. Something in her blood boiled over. Ramuh's magic, his covenant unlocked something deep in her soul. The foreign magic's seared away as her body was filled with newoldstrange power to the brim.

"Titus, get them out of here. Now." She growled with that otherworldly tone that characterised those favoured by a god, Bahamut especially. Drautos could do no more but obey. He was beholden to her, the magic that brought them back tied around his soul.

She walked across the battlefield, calmly compressing her rage and using its cold edge to hone her instincts even as retreat was called. She saw Nyx flit around the battlefield saving anybody he came across, even moving towards her. He only fell back when Titus ordered him away under the threat of locking him in a box until the next deployment. And even then he only left after he cought a glance of her golden eyes and lightning flashing across her body. It spoke of fury about to be unleashed. "Ulric! Get back here this instant and leave. Wyrmwood to her insanity!"

She unleashes a lightning storm that only grows worse once Ramuh unswers her demand. Enemies fall under her hand by the dozen.

And when the Empire tries to deal away with the Storm Father like they did Shiva, Morgan unleashes the weapons that slumbered in her soul, blades much less ornate than those used by the Caelums but no less deadly. A rain of crimson ghostly weapons sent tearing through the Omega and the infected or demonic creatures left no survivors.

When she came back to the camp - dirty, drained almost dry and exhausted but oh so viciously satisfied she was met by wide eyes and pale faces.

It makes her snort.

"Titus. I'm not going anywhere before getting a decent night of sleep, taking a long shower and eating something that is not rations. You can drag me before the King after."

With Regis, after a gruelling series of questions.

"With all due respect, Majesty" her tone made it clear that there was not a lot of it. It made Cor bristle. "your magic always felt wrong but I had none of my own until Ramuh decided to meddle and toss me and Tito, here, back in time."

The accusations of trying to work against Insomnia, she just laughed derisively in the faces of the nobles.

"Why would I want to destroy Insomnia? I have already seen it razed to the ground. I've seen the shield fall under the blasts from a godkiller, full of demons prowling through the rubble, Glaives killed by traitors and King run through by a blade of a false ally. Yes, sure, I'll turn traitor to all of my values, let my family, my clan, my people suffer even more than they already had." She stares them down with her unearthly gaze, full of magic about to be unleashed. All the nobles avert their eyes, the cowards. When she reaches the King he holds her eyes even as it pains him.

"It's true, I hold no love for the Caelum line. The traitor Kings of Insomnia have failed me and mine more than enough. The Galahd has been betrayed by You and left for your enemies to destroy. Just like most of Lucis - only we would never roll over and present our bellies to the Niffs." She smiled maliciously at the King, her gaze accusing him of things that had yet to happen. Who looked pained and guilty rather than indignant like most of his council.

"I am here and work for Lucis, because my people were allowed to come here. And despite the insulting conditions they gave I'll keep doing that as it keeps my family safe."

Eventually, the two of them were allowed to leave.

"Your Majesty, may I ask a question?"

"Yes, Glaive Wyrmwood."

"Haven't you ever wondered why holding the Wall up is so hard, even with a focus? Why it drains you, your life, vitality and magic so much that you aged fourty years in a third of that time? Were the chains on the Crystal there to make it easier to control or to hinder the dragon that dwells within?"

She walks away leaving him with that to ponder.

A few days later, Morgan sneaks in to Cor's office while he is there. He almost skewers her for it. She parries his attack and dumps a pile of papers, freshly taken out of the Armiger on his desk. He dismisses his katana with a glower and starts looking through it when the woman vanishes. Monica, concerned by the noises opens the door just as he starts swearing.

"Marshal? What happened?"

"It appears" - he answers without taking his eyes off the documents - "that the ghost decided to stop hiding."

Monica almost chokes on her saliva. What?

"Find Wyrmwood and tell her to get back here ASAP!"

The news about a red Armiger wielding Glaive gets to the Empire as well. Ardyn cannot help but investigate.

He finds Morgan.

And ends up summoning the Infernian.

Her eyes turn golden as her magic gets free of restraints and starts sparking gold and red as she focuses on fighting the demonified Astral. And cussing them both out.

Her dual magic and the fact that Ramuh appears at her request end up breaking the forced bond between Ardyn and Ifrit. It clears the infection and makes even Ardyn stagger as some of the hatred that completely overwhelmed him gets simply taken away.

Ifrit gives her the mark of his covenant.

Oooooooooo thats an interesting idea! I do like the idea of Ifrit giving her the mark of his covenant actually! It’s really interesting! And while this doesn’t exactly fit into the lore i have planned it was a delight to read! Thank you for sharing it with me!!!!

Morgan: I am not a troll, i do not take joy in frustrating others.

Also Morgan: ;)

I love the bit about Titus wanting to follow her but respecting her boundaries all the same.

Also! For future reference, I do have my submit open and it should allow you to send stuff like this in? Even if you are on anon.

If its not on rn then I’ll activate it when I’m on an actual computer.

[nocturnical]

I’ve been trying to finish Gray Barker’s They Knew Too Much About Flying Saucers for over a year now — because I’m lazy, fickle, & physically lost the book for awhile (I left it under the pillow on my porch swing for awhile). 

I originally bought it because I’m addicted to paranormal podcasts & I was looking for a classic account of the men in black phenomena. 

While I really like Barker’s sensational writing style — that grifty 20th century newspaper-journalist voice — parts of the book were unbearably slow & made me want to build a time machine to fight him (this is nothing new, he’s on a list of hundreds of authors, it’s cool).

In the beginning of the book, he covers The Flatwoods Monster in a slow, convoluted way that wore on my patience. Albeit, if this was the first time I’d read about the incident I may have been more patient with the way everything unfolded. Yet, aside from explaining that he was a saucer researcher & that the event had happened in his hometown, I didn’t see what exactly it had to do with the men in black phenomena. 

I personally enjoy accounts of The Flatwoods Monster because the details of the sights & smells, followed by physical reactions from the witnesses seems to link it with other accounts of extra/ultraterrestrial encounters & what I’ve seen called Moonburn Syndrome — which seems to line up a lot with different human-caused radiation events. & my writer brain is overjoyed because there are infinite stories that could be told within these parameters due to the fragile nature of our human bodies/brain & the way we perceive our reality through it.

Sure, it all pins back into the idea that what we’re dealing with more than something from another planet or even the government, but the details Barker actually gives about the men in black comes in a series of meticulously recalled accounts of dry correspondences between him & a few other UFO investigators.

I think the main reason I was so disappointed is because I’d heard that Gray Barker had some pretty threatening interactions with this phenomena, especially around the Indrid Cold/Mothman investigation. Seems this book was from before that period, so my bad there. What is actually here is little more than speculation about some of his colleagues that decided they were going to change the direction of their research.

Also toward the end of the book we descend into some red scare / Coast to Coast AM anon caller level horseshit that I’m just too tired for. I get that it’s the time period, but did Americans really have no sense of self or national critique at all? Like for all of our worries about the Russians, we were making whole areas of the Marshall Islands uninhabitable & using kids in the system as radioactive test subjects, nobody had clean hands. Anyway, it’s just a thing that annoys me.

The way he ends the book though, I absolutely believe & perhaps it’s why Barker was such a compelling figure in UFO research.

From what I’ve read about Barker otherwise, he continued investigating & served as a bit of a skeptic/troll against the weirder ideas that came with some of his cases. 

& like most of the people of his age, when he dealt with his research, he was looking for a tangible enemy, some “other” that could be studied & controlled. Not something weird or unfathomable, but something that could be bracketed into the human mind & experience. & I don’t know, even if we find some sort of irrefutable proof of an extra/ultraterrestrial “other” someday, I just don’t think that the truth will be easy. 

I know very little, but what I know of the universe is not very neat & fits awkwardly inside the brackets of my (albeit lay) understanding. So when Barker says he doesn’t understand what his friends knew that he didn’t — perhaps it was that fundamental state of mind. Perhaps not, I don’t know. I’m just trying to justify way too many hours spent either irritated or enamored with this book.

TLDR: If you want to read some sensationally-written, roughly associated alien conspiracy theory this is an interesting book. If you’re actually looking for info on the men in black phenomena, this ain’t it.

[klienerp]

Walter is sitting in a cop car on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with window walls. You are all sitting but the girls are gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and is wearing a beanie. But he doesn't need it. You are oblivious to him and also to the men staring at you from 3 different tables. You are wearing *that* dress. Walter's blood is boiling as you are sipping a coctail with a pout around the straw. - Det. Marshall

“Let’s dance!!! I wanna dance!!!” I whine at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture is slightly unstable after 2 cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She follows me to the dance floor while the Stephanie remains in the seat talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He’s been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully.  After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that doesn’t leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remember of the little treat I have in my purse and decide we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air. I grab the girls and we walk outside, “Ok, don’t you dare mention this to Walter,” I warn them as I take out the joint from my purse. “Daddy magnum gonna punish you?” Steph teases while I light it up. 

“Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is mad man or something” 

“Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!” Keylah teases and we all laugh hysterically. 

[verysharpteeth]

The Outpost

Let’s talk about this stupid show because I love it. Made firmly in the vein of Xena and Hercules, or more accurately Legend of the Seeker, this show is glorious fantasy shlock that hits every trope and is enjoyable for it. 

So let’s talk about this tropey show that has fun with itself and knows why people are watching. 

Season 1 Episode 1: One Is the Loneliest Number

- We start out at ye olde Ren Faire tavern where a pretty yet feral looking woman named Talon is shaking down a guy to find out who he gave a specific tattoo to. Her nondescript boyfriend who will clearly die in minutes frets nervously in the background. 

- RAID! Also gambling is illegal in this mythos? That’s such a random thing to be illegal in a fantasy show. 

- Talon gets a few of the names out of the crusty tattoo artist, but they hide in a totally exposed area and seem to have no peripheral vision as soldiers walk right up on them in what appears to be clear sight range and kill the tattoo artist before he can give all of the names. 

- Talon and nameless, soon to be dead boyfriend run into territory where there are troll creatures. Doomed boyfriend dies pointlessly and stupidly as was his function. 

- Flashback to Talon when she was a wee village munchkin. She is part of a demon/elf race that seems to be not popular with the locals. 

- Talon’s demon/elf village is wiped out by a group of assassins paid by a man with the most bleached of hair because you’re not gonna get through a fantasy backstory without a village genocide. 

- Talon can summon demon portals apparently

- Assassin #4 doesn’t kill Talon when he has an opportunity. 

- This show just killed a child

- Baby Talon is taken in by kindly peasants who are worried about the fact that she’s a demon/elf and those are being hunted down. Talon resolves this by cutting off her elf ear prosthetics.  

- Current Talon is attacked by zombie leech people. She’s saved by who will obviously become her love interest. We know this because he’s not wearing a helmet so we can zoom in on each of their faces as music swells

- The night guard seems a bit confused by their duties considering they won’t let the city patrol back in the city.

- Meet Garret who is captain of the guard and thoroughly charming, so this romance may make sense. He’s clearly the floppy puppy to Talon’s cranky tough guy.

- Are there no zombie protocols in this city?  We all just saw that guy get bit.

- Garret is somehow the son of Marshall Jason Statham Lite. This is less believable than the leech zombies. 

- Garret has been nothing but nice so far, so Talon’s general disdain about his profession of knight is more than a little misplaced. She does apologize, but she’s a right dick to him while he’s just generally pleasant. 

- Talon meets Janzo in a tavern who will obviously be our quirky scientist type for this series.

- Talon is confronted by a snotty blonde who demands she help her hid from someone. The blonde is sort of a trainwreck, which makes her tolerable. I mean she falls like a literal sack of potatoes out of a window trying to follow Talon. The comedy beat on this is perfect.

- Turns out the blonde is hiding from Assassin #1, the very guy Talon has set out to kill. She’s also involved with Garret who seems a bit sheepish that she and Talon have met each other and Talon knows him. Talon bigs up Garret saving her and Garret rushes the blonde to safety. Talon hassles Garret about who the blonde is and why she’s being hidden. Garret won’t tell a veritable stranger, no matter how pretty, what the deal with the blonde is. 

- Talon and assassin #1 fight in an alley and stab each other. You’d think Talon would be better at the fighting if her life goal has been killing this guy. Her mission is a bit short sighted. While pinned to a wall Talon is saved by assassin #4 and assassin #1 writes a message on the ground in his own blood apparently to whom it may concern. 

[secret-engima]

Oo! For your Nox verse you mentioned Axis and now I'm all ears for anything you're willing to talk about for the Kingsglaives. Is Axis Nox's assigned guard? Does Noctis have one he's close with like you hinted Arra is for Nox? Does Regis assign *Ardyn* a glaive? It might give more reason for him to interact with Titus? Just what is the Kingsglaive in general's reaction to the chancellor being not that bad actually and basically defecting to Lucis?

(cracks knuckles) Anon. ANON. Kingsglaive are a fav okay? I am always willing to talk about them. ALWAYS. In this AU though, Axis is not actually a glaive. The Kingsglaive was only formed a few months after Nox and Ardyn time-traveled, and Nox met him sometime not long after arriving in the past, so Axis was wandering around taking Hunts to get by. Axis, upon meeting Nox “I’m going to single-handed blow up ALL the Nif’s stuff” Izunia ended up tagging along a few times and then just … never really stopped. Be ends up becoming Nox’s official Shield after Nox is discovered by Regis, but honestly considered himself that well before (because someone has to keep these moron, and his uncle by extension, alive). Nox gets to know the rest of the galahdians through Axis after he’s discovered.

For the rest of the glaives (who are actual glaives in this), Noctis … I don’t think he has a particular favorite? Nox starts dragging Noctis down to the glaive HQ to “train” with them (read: play with them and endear himself to them) so Noctis kinda ends up adopted en masse by these guys (though honestly Tredd might glom onto being Noctis’s buddy/reckless older bro just to spite Axis, because how DARE his buddy in crime get his own LC and not share with Tredd?). Regis assigns the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard in rotation to guard Ardyn because Chancellor of Niflheim, but Ardyn’s trolling tendency weeds out 98% of the Crownsguard pretty fast (Ardyn: ”It’s not my fault they can’t take a joke!”). Titus, being also Glauca (and secretly Ardyn’s newest minion) tends to volunteer himself after the first five trolling sprees just to keep this moron (who is also somehow his boss, Astrals save him) from driving the entire Citadel nuts.

For your last question. Hmmmm (straps on HC hat) warning this is gonna be LONG:

-Nobody in the glaive is happy when they learn that the Chancellor of Niflheim is a guest (actual guest, not prisoner) in the Citadel. The fact that he’s going to remain a guest for the indefinite future because their King apparently had a kid with the Chancellor’s sister just makes it worse. Nobody is happy and some Potentially Traitorous Things are often mumbled half-heartedly over their alcohol in the first few days when only the Crownsguard are allowed near him (mostly just different ways of calling Regis an idiot, nothing actually harmful or murderous). The glaive however, don’t think the Crownsguard are going to stay Ardyn’s primary keepers for long. Not just because of their general disdain for the organization that prefers to hide behind the Wall rather than fight, but because all of them saw Captain’s face when Ardyn’s arrival was announced. It was the same face he wore the last time the Nifs unleashed a trio of Behemoths onto the field. The one that screamed “Damage Control Inbound” and “This is Going to Become Our Problem and We’re All Collectively Doomed”.

-Then they actually start getting assigned to the man and he’s … nothing like what they were expecting. There is no brilliant tactician, no cunning, poison-tongue politician. No enemy infiltrating their second home using his own nephew as leverage. There’s just a man in tacky clothes and the world’s Dumbest Hat who hides from the irate doctors who insist he needs medical intervention for his weight and general health problems Right Now and only lets Captain or his nephew bully him into eating more than a single meal per day. There’s just an uncle who teases his nephew mercilessly but never lets the boy get lost in his own head (which is too easy for the kid to do, they all recognize the signs of Battle Trauma) and dotes on their crown prince like he’s a long lost nephew rather than the son of the Lucian king.

-There’s just a very, very tired soul who they sometimes find in the Hall of Arts, staring up at the picture of the Founder King and First Oracle with deceptively blank expression and a faintly cracking voice as he sings something Ancient that sounds like a lullaby for all they can’t understand the words, swaying to the melody of his own song like he’ll topple and shatter the moment someone puts pressure on the wrong place.

-Nyx is the first one other than Captain to find him like that, and for all he wants to hate the man who represents Niflheim (represents the empire that burned Galahd and killed his sister), he instead finds himself coaxing Ardyn away from the Hall with gentle words and steady hands, just like he would any of his brother or sister glaives. Nyx mentions it to Captain later, which is how he and the others learn that this isn’t an uncommon occurrence. That they should keep him away from the Hall of Arts if they can.

-It’s the first sign that Ardyn isn’t a vicious leader of monsters playing nice to trick an enemy, but a broken, tired man using his nephew as an excuse to finally escape his glittering cage of “Chancellor”.

-None of them are quite sure what to make of that, so they watch, they listen, they learn. …They get attached. Grudgingly. One prank and melodramatic smile and accidentally witnessed quiet moment at a time. There are a lot of sides to Ardyn Izunia, like the individual fragments of a broken mirror, and somehow the glaives keep being allowed to stumble on them. Somehow they keep getting attached to the shards, one by one and moment by moment without realizing that Ardyn is getting attached in return.

-Until one day, on a good day when Ardyn is wearing his Cheerful, Melodramatic Self and the glaives are hiding their snickers in the corners as they follow him like shadows, two of the King’s Council meet him in the halls. Look down their noses with contemptuous eyes, just like they do the glaives themselves and (in that uniquely flowery way only politicians can) start insulting Ardyn under the guise of casual conversation. They watch, seething despite themselves, as Ardyn takes it, smiles through it, tilts his head like he doesn’t know exactly what they are doing. Libertus finally ducks out of the shadows, bites out some made up excuse of Ardyn’s presence being requested by Cor (the councilmen wouldn’t prevent the Marshal’s orders from being followed and wouldn’t ask him about it later and discover the lie), grinds his teeth when the two councilmen turn their flowery poison on Libertus and the Kingsglaive (the Galahdian refugees) as well. Just like they always do.

-In the middle of taking a step to follow Libertus away, the glaives see Ardyn go still as a painting. See blue eyes sharpen like blades and then-. He turns around in one fluid movement, like it was intentional all along, his easy smile still in place but now dripping an unstated sort of malice that takes the glaive by surprise. They watch, gaping and confused, as Ardyn suddenly transforms into the monster they expected to find those first weeks he arrived in the Citadel, the vaunted Niflheim Chancellor who could ruin people with a smile and a few honeyed words. Where a moment ago he’d been passively taking insults, now Ardyn runs verbal mazes around the two councilmen, ripping them open and stripping them down to their barest, ugliest parts all while never dropping his friendly, polite mien. Somewhere in the “conversation” (massacre), the glaives are pretty sure Ardyn blackmails the two councilmen into supporting a bunch of refugee support programs that, as a technical enemy politician, Ardyn should not know about and they are definitely sure that Ardyn manages to pull it off while simultaneously insulting the two men’s family lines all the way back to the era of the Founder King. By name.

-As he suddenly bids the sputtering councilmen good day and trails along after a wide-eyed Libertus and a long-suffering Captain who arrived somewhere in the verbal massacre, his footsteps silent and predatory when around the glaive he’s always been easy and noisy (to let them know he’s there, to ensure he cannot startle them), the glaive realize that Ardyn is every inch the monster they were expecting. Every centimeter the poisonous, deadly politician they complained about before getting to know him. He just … doesn’t bare his fangs at the people that, by all conventional logic, he should. Somewhere along the way, this Niflheim Chancellor decided that he was more loyal to the line of Lucis and the ragtag refugees called the Kingsglaive than he was his own empire, and that if hiding his claws and acting oblivious around disapproving, snobby nobles was what it took to stay rather than having to return to his own country (his prison), then he would.

-Over drinks, they all agree Ardyn Izunia, former Chancellor of Niflheim, is the scariest person they’ve ever seen. And that they are all really glad he’s on their side.

(hope that satisfies your Ask, Anon! It … spiraled out of my control)