#who can simply read backwards what is being said and understand

[pomefioredove]

Hey Dove~

I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.

You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!

OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference

twst x mute reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment

summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it

he's not one to criticize strangeness

that would be rude, first of all

second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC

(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)

he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either

he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six

he's certainly patient

and he knows how to use context

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?

for a while, he just thought you talked fast

he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself

no biggie

then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...

...oh! no!

of course he's not annoyed!

Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it

you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything

he just watches you talk

and smiles

like this -> :)

it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...

observing

humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks

he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you

which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...

he teaches himself your language

and he becomes a sort of translator for you

any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it

weird, but nice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems

whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him

it's not his job to worry over you

then, you come to him asking for help, and...

...well, he's flattered

he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else

because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you

whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?

perhaps, but it's true

he's mastered the art of observation

he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away

he just knows

you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook

(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)

and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything

you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little

only in good fun, of course

and only if you respond in kind

but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words

he won't correct you or interrupt you, either

he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable

he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though

he cares <3

[procyonloser]

"Hey there, Adam, what brings you in today?" Lucifer asked, sitting backwards on his chair in the office. He'd known Adam for a few years now, been his primary doctor for most of that, and it was always an interesting day when the man came in.

"I want to get pregnant." Adam said simply, so easily that Lucifer had to run it through his head once more to confirm he'd said what he did.

"... Uh, I see. How can I help with that process?" Lucifer asked, immediately wincing at the phrasing.

"Well, I don't have anyone to knock me up, and I don't want some stranger from a bar to power wash my insides, so I need a sperm donor." Adam explained, though it did little to alleviate Lucifer's confusion. God, the mental image of Adam getting fucked by a stranger though, that was something he'd keep for later. "I need you to, you know, turkey baster me or whatever, I don't know how it goes. I want you to put it in me."

Lucifer had to count back from ten to calm himself, reading between the lines of what Adam was saying. "So, you want to find a sperm donor, and to have the fertilization done in a medical office?"

"Yeah, that's what I just fuckin' said." Adam rolled his eyes. Was it though, Lucifer thought to himself. "You just didn't know what kind of loser you're going to get at a bar or club, I want my kid to be smart, but not a nerd, into music, but not girly pop shit, you know?"

"Well, I mean, you never know what you're going to get when you have kids, that's part of the fun, but I understand wanting to find a potential donor who matches qualities you like, the same you'd do for a potential partner. I mean, I love music and the arts, so I understand why that would be important to you. I think you'll make a good dad." Lucifer said, with a small smile, trying to not picture Adam in the exam stirrups.

"Right," Adam said, staring him down. "...You're, ah... not a registered donor, are you?"

"Me?" Lucifer blinked owlishly. "No, I'm...I mean, I could be?"

"Oh, I'm breaking so many laws..." Lucifer whispered to himself, as he shoved himself into Adam who whined at the sudden filling and pressure. Lucifer had warmed him up by eating him out for the last twenty minutes, ignoring knocks on the door from his nurses as he got Adam soaking wet and shaking. He gripped wide hips, fingers digging skin and fat.

"Fuck, more." Adam moaned, bent over the exam table. Lucifer appeased him by pushing in to the hilt. "Get me pregnant, doc. Fill me up, again and again. I need it."

Lucifer couldn't help himself, using a hand to dig into Adam's hair, tugging his head back as he fucked him hard, the plastic cover on the table squeaking with each thrust. He was already imagining the man with a rounded belly in same position, he knew pregnancy hormones sometimes caused folks to become hypersexual; it was more than easy to picture Adam fully pregnant, legs spread open for Lucifer, breasts thick and leaking and ready to be lapped up.

This was probably not what being a sperm donor usually entailed but it was hard to care with Adam hot and wet around him, cunt spasming around him.

[urfavoritedcwhore]

henry winter as your secret boyfriend//headcannons//some sexual

he hates being late, and hates even more when you make him late.

let’s you smoke his cigarettes with no fuss.

he’s beat up a guy at a party for bumping into you once.

he knows that your smart, but refuses to admit it.

constantly tells you things in latin you don’t understand.

he finds it extremely unattractive when you swear, but also a bit cute when you do it out of excitement.

he holds your hand under your desks in greek class if he thinks your having a bad day.

will often talk in french to you in front of the others if he’s trying to have a private conversation with you.

“y/n, ai-je laissé ma ceinture dans ton dortoir la dernière fois que je suis venu ?” “je ne sais pas Henry, tu peux vérifier ce soir lors de ta visite”

he’s endured many days of watching Richard flirt with you

he’s always getting mad and saying your flirting back when all your doing is being polite.

switches from english to greek when he’s speaking with you drunk, and never realizes it.

you think it’s incredibly funny

julian is the only person who knows about your relationship.

you would tell the others, if you thought it wouldn’t make things super awkward.

francis walked in on you two once having a romantic dinner at henry’s apartment, but was too drunk to realize what was going on.

bunny constantly jokes about how henry can’t get women to you.

when you two are alone he’s constantly holding your hand, your waist, your face, or just simply cuddling with you.

he tells you everyday that your the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

nsfw headcannons:

this man is a top, no doubt about it.

he’s usually gentle with you, but if you piss him off, you’re getting badly punished.

once you were acting extra bratty with him at dinner with all the others around.

you weren’t allowed to cum for a week after that😔

he’s a boob guy

if he’s feeling extra spicy, he’ll play with you under the table at charles and camilas weekly dinners.

“y/n, why are you squirming so much?” “sorry camila i- *fake cough to cover up a moan* im just feeling a little hot.”

he never looks at you while he’s doing this. just continues his conversation and eats his dinner with an expressionless face.

has tied you up before and overstimulated you for hours, just because you said that he was too gentlemen like in bed.

“do you still think i’m too much of a gentleman darling?” “oh, looks like someone can’t speak. are you gonna say your safe word?”.

you never say your safe word.

he smokes and shares his cigarette with you while you two are in missionary.

missionary is his favorite position when he’s being gentle. he likes to be able to watch your face when you cum and feel you moaning into his mouth while he fucks you.

when he’s not being gentle, your legs WILL be on top of his shoulders. he likes knowing that you’re completely at his mercy and can push your legs backwards and slide you off his dick if he doesn’t want you to cum.

you two used protection for the first few times you slept together, but he took you to the gynecologist and paid for you to get an implant after you both tried it raw for the once and loved it.

you’ve woken up a million times to him touching you as he’s reading a book. (don’t worry you talked about it before and consented to it)

he doesn’t look up from his book until he feels you tightening around his fingers and knows your about to cum.

he moans especially loud when he’s drunk.

he loves to praise you.

“look at you, taking all of me like a good girl.” “you think you can cum for me one more time darling? ohh good job baby”

after sex he’s always gonna fix himself, and you, a glass of scotch before getting back in bed and reading to you until you fall asleep.

[jemmo]

Making sense of love for love's sake: the game

Despite all the things i absolutely adore about how the plot unravels and expands in love by love's sake, upon first watch, there's some things i couldn't piece together, which @lurkingshan echoes in their post:

'The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness.'

And to preface, this is not something i fully get yet either. I think i'll need a good month and a sizeable reading list of relevant resources to understand just what/who this author/sunbae is and what his role is and how he is associated with myungha. But as always with the best shows for meta (aka bad buddy), as a plot unfolds, you can always find a better understanding by looking backwards and re-contextualising what you've already seen. so i watched ep 1, specifically the scene between myungha and his sunbae at the bar. And i will talk about how everything said in this scene has a whole new meaning now we know the full story, but for now i wanna focus on that question that they keep coming back to; "Then... will you change it for him?".

When you watch the show for the first time, your brain follows the simplest, most obvious version of the story you're being told, one where myungha has been pulled into the world of his sunbae's novel that's being turned into a game and given the opportunity to fix the thing he didn't like about it; making yeowoon happy, and thus you just think the rules of the game are imposed by the author, and so when these cruel choices first come up, you see them as the difficult roadblocks that are nevertheless necessary to any kind of game, forcing the player to make an impossible choice so that the game can continue in a certain direction and its only after that you learn whether it was the right choice or not, or there is no right choice, it simply changes the game you are playing.

And when its revealed what this game actually is, at first i tried to interpret these cruel choices, namely the choice between yeonwoon and myungha's grandma, and at best i could come up with the concept of this being a choice between staying stuck to the past aka choosing his grandma, even though he knows that choice doesn't mean she's safe bc he knows the future where he loses here, its an inevitability, but thats the small happiness he knew before it was taken away and thus that happiness is known and safe, theres no risk, versus choosing to pursue a new happiness, a love of yeowoon and thus himself, which he doesn't know, he hasn't experienced yet, and could be risky. Its a happiness that isn't guaranteed like his grandma, but its a happiness that looks to the future and has hope in it that he can find a new happiness to pursue despite what has happened in his past.

And that fits nice, okayish. But then i watched ep 1 and heard that question "Then... will you change it for him?" And watching through the rest of the eps, we come back to this scene at the bar and each time we get a new run up to the author asking this question, either new dialogue is added or we hear a different piece of the conversation entirely. It starts at the beginning of ep 1 as:

"Because Cha Yeowoon is the only one who's miserable." "It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile."

Then a bit later in ep 1 we go back and its expanded.

"It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile." "Why? Do you think you'd write it differently?" "Yes, definately. Someone like Cha Yeowoon, or someone like me with an awful life, can also be happy."

And then all the way on in ep 6, we get this new dialogue.

"I don't like talking about destiny." "Why?" "Because it means everything is predestined." "Then do you not believe in fate?" "Fate and destiny are the same. My grandma likes to say that. She said life is like a written book, and how you'll live and die are written in it. (...)I don't like things like this. Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." "Really? Then Myungha..."

And while we don't hear the author ask the same question, I feel like him getting cut off like that insinuates that the conversation leads to that same ending point. All that is to say, every time we hear this question being asked, its like we learn more and more about what this whole thing is, what the game is, what myungha is saying he will do by agreeing to do what the author asks. And every time, we see myungha being more defiant against the idea of yeowoon being resigned to his miserable ending. He starts off thinking that kind of life is destined, and while it's miserable, its not something he can fight. Then he says he'd want to write the story differently, bc yeowoon, or even him, could be happy. He challenges the idea that yeowoon, and thus himself, is fated to be miserable, and opens up the possibility for happiness for them both, but doesn't yet have the means or resolve to do it, its like he knows its possible on a fundamental level, but doesn't see it as something he can actually achieve. But then we circle back to the idea of destiny and books, both of which came up in the previous quote, and seems incredibly pertinent seen as this whole thing is about a novel this author has written. Myungha talks about how he hates the idea that life is a book where everything written is predestined to happen, from the moment you live to the moment you die. He says "Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." That vile way of life he described before that he said was destined, he is now saying it can be changed, and that possibility is now something he's holding onto, its what he sees hope in so that he can keep trying, bc now he finally is trying, he has the resolve, he's trying to realise this thing, this impossibility of rewriting the life he thought was destined through the way he loves yeowoon.

And coming back to those cruel choices, given this fresh context, it made me think. bc this isn't actually a game that myungha has been put into where the rules are dictated by an author completely separate from him. He said himself, he'd rewrite it, he'd change things for yeowoon. And when you start to think of it less as him fighting against a rigid, removed system and more like him being a character in a story he is trying to rewrite himself, that has both the author and his own limitations, or just his own if you're in the school of thought that the author is some figment or part of myungha himself or his conciousness, then you can start to see where these cruel choices might come from. They could be myungha, the author making edits to this new story, imposing his own doubts and limitations on himself. When he says he has to pick between Yeowoon and his grandma, what if that's the new author myungha seeing this story unfold and thinking no this isn't right, he can't have it all, i'm not deserving of this much happiness.

And what makes me like this idea even more is that when we get that second choice between ending after 14 days or getting 100 days back at the cost of resetting Yeowoon's affection to 0, that whole conversation happens in what I think the bar actually is which is this frozen moment in time where myungha is in the water with this extension of a voice in his head that is talking through these things. That conversation in itself needs its own post, but when you look at it both as a decision to break up or not or a decision to hold onto life or not, you can see how the author is just this soundboard relaying the decisions myungha is going through in his head. The author's voice is his own, weighing up his decisions. And if he is the author here, it only reinforces that the person making the rules of this game is him. You can even extend it further to the idea of the debuffs, where he puts in place this thing that makes it so he causes harm to yeowoon when he's around, and its only by garnering affection that he can prevent it. He gives himself a reason from the get go to stay away from yeowoon and reason it as him doing it for yeowoon's safety, when in fact the only way to make yeowoon safe is to increase his affection, which he can only do by being near him. Its a system that at first gives myungha a reason to stay away aka not like himself, but ultimately says the only way you're going to make yeowoon like you, or the only way you can like yourself, is if you accept risk. And that in itself screams to me of a myungha writing in these game systems that are trying to encourage his own-self love while falling at the hurdle of his own lack of self-worth.

The idea is still messy in my head even for me, but i just really like the idea that myungha could be trying to fix this thing both as a character and game master, and that both these versions of him have these flaws that manifest in their different ways to cause the events we see. It kinda is the definition of being your own worst enemy, the idea that in order to work towards loving yourself, the biggest obstacle you have to encounter is yourself, bc we are the ones holding ourselves back, making all these rules that make it harder to like ourselves and pursue our own happiness. The voices in our head telling us that we aren't good enough and aren't deserving are our own, and while the things that happen to us can inform what they say, we're the one's reinforcing those words. And what this show teaches us is that, if we're the one holding that pen all along, we can choose to change what those words are. If we make the rules, you don't have to create a game with concrete ultimatums, you can create a game where rules don't control you. Instead, you make the decisions, and you can make the ones that make you happy.

[archivalofsins]

Regarding Life, I've seen people speculate that it was actually a boutch suicide attempt rather than an accident, so there's still some moral greyness, though it's still very open-and-shut "Forgiven" here

I'm writing something that proves this isn't the case right now.

But I can easily disprove it here too. If she wanted to commit suicide why fall backwards down a measly flight of stairs instead of just jumping over the railing of the abandon buildings staircase? That's not botched she wasn't even trying to die at that point.

This building is abandoned as hell and blocked off she sneaks into it. One could say that she does this because she intend to attempt suicide but she literally just goes up there to look at the sky then gets woozy for overexerting herself due to the fact she's pregnant and all the walking she was doing is not advisable under the circumstances she was in.

We've seen her be implied to have dizzy spells and nausea before in Tear Drop she's resting from one while out with a client.

She is literally shown tripping at the climax of Umbilical,

Like that's a thing they choose to animate.

Beyond that I don't understand what is so hard to believe about a girl going through a pregnancy- Who has just overexerted herself greatly climbing a bunch of steps prior to this and forcing her way into a blocked off area,

Just to walk all the way to this abandoned building then through it to climb more fucking steps,

With no signs of taking a break, drinking or eating anything after already having one bout of nausea earlier in the day and throwing up mind us all-

She throws up a clear liquid here so the only thing in her right now is that baby and maybe water. She has no food on her stomach. We don't see her get any either.

Then she almost faints at the literal train station before the train arrives too-

Visualized through her literally losing herself falling out off her own body. Just for her to get to her stop and go nah let me walk a few more miles I need some time to think by myself. I don't see what's so difficult to believe about a 15-16 year old going through pregnancy for the first time who has not told anyone that she is going through this doing literally everything a person is not supposed to while pregnant fainting from overexertion.

It makes complete sense to me that she did just faint and she is just in her because she considers this murder. Which skill issue on her part I would just consider that an awful time for everyone involved and I don't know talk to someone about it.

Usually people have some sort of counseling after losing a pregnancy. Yet, she went right back to school like nothing happened and no one knew anything happened because she didn't tell them.

Her reports and songs serve to highlight that she has issues with expressing her emotions to others, letting anyone close, and telling people things she knows may upset them.

"Those days, in a word is, I’m just me, no right or wrong to it. But honestly it was all fun, him and him, all of them kind. The only thing annoying was the occasional, I love you’s." "“WARNING, do not mix”, let’s keep love and lust separate, ok? It’s only fun where you can stand, you drown once you go out to sea. Feelings like love, they always felt ick- Cuz the moment you have it, it changes on you, no? Keeping a safe distance, let’s just stay the same. For everyone’s sake, but mostly for me."

She frames Umbilical and Tear Drop as being discussions between her and someone else but she never actually had those discussions. Because like she said way back she lies for no reason it's not because she cares about herself or others. She is just simply omitting shit which is a disservice to those who care about her and herself but not a crime comparable to murder.

Milgram Report on Yuno Kashiki,

Yuno told no one, no one caught on, that she had turned to ice.

Plus the report explains this as well stating,

Yuno had been skilled at reading people from a young age. She knew instinctively what she should say and how she should act to make the adults around her happy.

Then later elaborating more on how this instinctive understanding of human nature, this aware caused her to close herself off or,

The reality of this society, made up of what people say and what they actually mean bored and wearied her immensely, gradually robing her body of its warmth.

"I won't be bothered..."

Stop trying to have connections at all and keep others at a distance in fear of getting hurt and losing that. The same way that Haruka feared people changing on him due to suffering that sort of loss prior to coming to Milgram.

"Keeping a safe distance, let’s just stay the same. For everyone’s sake, but mostly for me."

She was always willing to care for those around her like her friends and family. Yet she wasn't willing to let them do the same for her and tell them when she was having a problem. When she felt like things were to much, didn't know what to do, or was simply just lonely.

Admittedly I wish it was deeper than this. I do hate the framing of conflating miscarrying to murder. However, just because that's Yuno's perspective on it doesn't mean she's right or that's how anyone working on the series feels about this for that matter.

It's just not my thing. I still don't give a fuck about that baby regardless if it was aborted or this was a miscarriage I don't care that's none of my business. I'm not about to be a participant in her weird self-punishment thing. This is honestly pathetic and I love being around people who immediately went yeah this is pathetic let's ignore it.

Sorry, but not fucking really. I expect a murder when I'm told I'm dealing with murderers that Jackalope literally says could be monsters in the very first voice drama.

"There's a possibility all these prisoners are all monsters, who could eat us up."

Not oh damn my contraceptive that I used fucked me over and now I'm a murderer by this places standards because I have the desire to punish myself for what I did and view myself as a killer on par with the puppy basher, the cat skinner, the kid strangler Haruka Sakurai.

Like the only thing this shit can be is funny. It's not deep she didn't kill a man she is in here because of what they showed- She got on the train for this shit she stuck her train card that said Milgram on that scanner and said sign my ass up I deserve to be judged and brutally. She went I don't deserve rights or to be near pure people like Haruka I'm too dirty.

Like okay lmao... Alright, those are the standards you live by kind of serious for a person who tells others not to be so serious but we all gotta be hypocrites sometime, somehow.

Beyond that sorry bout that. Um yeah the report says she fainted. It says she passed out. Like it states that. The visuals from previous videos and what we see happen over the course of the Life music video support this.

Then the nail in this sleeper of case coffin where no murder is to be found no intent to harm is to be found the report ends on this,

With her thoughts in disarray, Yuno loses consciousness and falls down a flight of stairs. The mother survives, and the new life is lost.

Haruka's brought up him strangling another child. Went over his mental process after committing such a heinous act his remorse. It didn't mention her being suicidal once.

Sadly moral greyness cannot exist in an accident that is just an accident. An accident is one of the most neutral actions that can exist. Sure they have consequences, repercussions that one can feel bad about after the fact. That does not change that accidents are accidents. Things that are done by mistake where the party involved never intended to do them.

I'm fine with calling this case wrapped because honestly it is. That is a wrap. Let's get this set cleaned up and hope some of these guys are at least doing crime. They just caught this bitch slipping and put her in here. That's wild Mikoto could be in here for thought crimes now. That's fucking ridiculous but so many people just got what they'd been asking for- Anything and everything being murder and now people want to return to sender naw stand on that.

Stand on that. This is what you came for savor it let the taste sink in. All everyone ever wanted. I'm happy for you I really am. I am having the time of my life with this one lmao be careful what you wish for I guess. Now people wanna be like maybe she did have some ill intent and that's why she's here. Hey a lot of people wanted to say that someone who can conceive a child not carrying that child to term is murder and Milgram agrees.

Bask in being right about that actually. Bask in it because that shit is funny. I can't say anything except man it never felt so good to be wrong. It's never felt so good to overcomplicate something so much that what you're given pales in comparison. It is wild you can only get this type of thing from Milgram.

We really don't know what will pop out now. Maybe Mu just imagined stabbing her victim and she did nothing either. With all the shit they put in Yuno's song that have no explanation I would not doubt it.

This is about to get fun. I now have to sit here and be like well who has actually committed murder. Right now it's just Haruka and Amane because she killed Shidou we can't even say she killed her mom anymore maybe she just thinks she did. Who are we to say- maybe Purge March was just her going I fucking wish I did it.

But no absolutely be real weird way to kill herself honestly.

I can now go

Yuno's story simplified,

Yuno: I'm sorry mommy fell on you- Mommy feels real bad about it... Milgram: Not bad enough. Jail for you. Yuno: I deserve this. I deserve worse actually. Audience: What the fuck???

Please don't take that away from me by making this something it is not.

[sparks-chaotic-cove]

(Sky)BoundSMP Luxtent Log

Hello! This one will be similar to my avicane log, updating semi-regularly when we learn new information. Due to how long SkyBound has been going on, I will just say this first update includes spoilers up to the lore that happened on 10/4/2024 :]

Due to this being boundsmp, TWs for this log include: mentions of human experimentation, explosions, death, blood, and other harsh topics. BoundSMP is a heavy series, so make sure you recognize that!

First off, what is Luxtent?: Luxtent is a cipher language that is used within the world of (Sky)BoundSMP. It includes sigils made by sharp, straight lines, and various characters look similar but are indeed different. This language is used to direct magic onto or into things, or to wield that magic into a different purpose (such as collecting magic into a crystal, transforming a person, creating tracking devices, writing protections, etc). Simply put, Luxtent is the language of magic. Generally it is used to cipher english (mostly by the Avicane) or latin (mostly by the Vercane). Latin luxtent is often more intention driven due to the natural variation and contextual meanings of many latin words, while English Luxtent is more clear and direct.

What is the Luxtent Alphabet? Luxtent mirrors the English alphabet, and the translation key can be found here ( https://the-bound-smp.fandom.com/wiki/Luxtent_Sigil_Language ) with a printable version here ( https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-GoWUvmUYZ4IewGkkR9hmgFdUx9Px1ckLdc01U90kPk/edit?usp=sharing ).

Here's what we know about Luxtent:

It is a cipher, not its own language

many BoundSMP characters have it written on them, including Vast, Armor, and Rune. Vast and Armor's luxtent is in English, while Rune's seems to be in Latin.

the Avicane heavily use English Luxtent, while the Vercane mainly use Latin Luxtent.

The obelisks have luxtent written on them, though it is uncertain the entire true point of said writing, as the sigils are broken by crystals.

Luxtent is not exactly written linearly, like how English is written left to right, and other languages right to left, or top to bottom, or bottom to top. Luxtent, as long as the sigils are near each other to form consistent words, can be written in any direction (except backwards, it seems), However, most luxtent writers seem to tend towards follow writing it left to right (with exceptions like Vast's back sigils)

Even in English luxtent, intention seems important. Some intentions are more clear- for example, "Sharp" is written on Armor's wrists, presumably for sharp claws. However, Vast's back sigils, "fly for those that fell" and "Worthy" being on Armor's chest have less clear meanings.

To invoke magic, luxtent generally has to use a magic-based ink, such as the rudimentary magic ink Vast created with essence powder and normal ink.

Normal materials, like cloth and leather, tend to not be able to hold magic and therefore combust. Many crystals seem to be able to be infused with magic without a problem. Rune has mentioned that cloth may need to be woven with magical essence within it to withstand the flow of magic.

Luxtent written on people forms tattoo-like markings. How painful these markings are depends on the care taken when writing them and the ink used to write them.

Transformation magic requires being able to draw on another person's magic to infuse the person being transformed with their new features. (ex: Vast and Kalia needing a Zygote crystal, formed by using a fallen Avicane- or rather failed avicane trainee- to power it. Additionally, Aloy required other avian's magic to transform Armor).

Most people cannot understand Luxtent, including most Avicane members. However, Rune is able to read and write it, as is Armor, with Vast and I believe Virgil to be learning.

Luxtent is highly dangerous, and without the proper sigils and direction of magic, can cause dangerous consequences (like literally blowing up in one's face).

Who do we know of that has Luxtent? what does it say?:

Vast has a small amount of luxtent on his back, spelling out "Fly for those that fell"

Additionally, she also has some on her hands that she wrote herself, one saying "siphon" and I believe the other one saying "release", though I may be wrong on the second one

(Both art pieces by Heyhay13)

Rune has luxtent written practically all over him- Some we know of, some we don't! However, Rune's luxtent, unlike Armor and Vast's, is all if not mostly in Latin! An example of such is "infragilis" written on his chest:

(Art by ArtfulRenegade) Armor also has luxtent all over him, which is commonly obscured by clothing. We know he has "Sharp" written on his wrist (as seen at the stream for Kalia's memorial), and "Atlas created of feather and fang" on his back.

Finally, the only other one we know (or at least I know) is "Worthy", written on Armor's chest, more over their heart.

(Both art pieces by ggAbraxas)

That's all I've got for now! Have a good day!

Day written: 10/6/24

[alygator77]

I came back to apologize for my previous ask about the smut in M&M. Not about the question, but the delivery.

Reading it in retrospect, it sounds terribly abrasive, abrupt, and rude. That was not my intention. I’m actually quite embarrassed that I typed it out the way I did. Very disrespectful, and I am sorry.

I’m also a single mother, AND a business owner, who happens to read a lot. And as a matter of fact, I do write my own fics.

When I came across yours, I was immediately enamored by it, especially because I had never seen anything like it. I LOVE the entire concept. Its creative and extremely relatable. Especially for people like me. I realize I should have led with that.

I felt very strongly that you needed to know I truly wasn’t trying to be an asshole when I asked. The delivery was awful though, and since I wrote it in the middle of the night when I was already tired and my brain was looking for smut (lol but not really funny), I projected that in a bad way.🤦🏼‍♀️ I truly regret it.

In an attempt at an explanation, I saw most of what I said as a joke, i.e. “Good God. If they moved any slower, they'd be going backwards ... Sorry ijs...” I remember actually laughing when I typed that.

It wasn’t meant to be an insult, but more rhetoric or hyperbole. I wasn’t careful with my expression, so I apologize for that, too.

All of that being said, I also just happen to be a straightforward person, but I wasn’t angry at all when I wrote it.

When I said “Why not omit the smut altogether?”, I was actually wondering why you didn’t just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didn’t feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.

I also admit that with the tags, I had an expectation of more, which is where the mess that came out of me originated, but I was absolutely not expecting it for every chapter.

I don't agree with adding too much, adding it in every chapter, or that the only thing that matters is sex. His character really is objectified a lot, and all of that can dilute a story very quickly or even ruin it.

My question was more geared towards gaining an understanding of why you chose the route you did. Which was a far better way of asking than the way I did, and there’s no excuse for that.

I hope you continue to write great stories, and again, I SINCERELY apologize for my insensitivity.

Firstly, I would like to say I really appreciate you reaching back out to me — I was pleasantly surprised to read this and it makes me SO happy to know that there are people like you on the internet, capable of addressing a misunderstanding in a respectful and thoughtful way. You being willing to send me this says a lot about who you are as a person, so seriously, thank you.

No hard feelings on my end, all is forgiven. I can completely see where you were coming from and I also relate — there have been many times in my life where I’ve said something and it came out different than what I intended. It happens love.

When I said “Why not omit the smut altogether?”, I was actually wondering why you didn’t just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didn’t feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.

I will happily go ahead and answer this question! There are two answers to it.

The first answer is that I will not omit the smut altogether simply because… I like sex? 🤷‍♀️ Idk, it’s a simple answer really, lol 😅 But I think to put it in perspective, I like sex in a different way most people consume on this platform. I am demisexual — so I have to have that close emotional bond with someone before I find them remotely attractive. When it comes to writing smut (and sometimes even reading it), this really plays a big part to both my inspiration and my comfort level.

Secondly, I’ll address what you said regarding the characters in the story, specifically relating to the comment about how the smut wasn’t mandatory. 

Personally, I do think the smut scene in ch 3 was relevant to the story bc it gave readers an insight into Satoru’s feelings/perspective. While yes, Satoru was drawn to reader in the beginning, he didn’t understand his own feelings, and there were walls he built up around his heart (you get a glimpse of this when he talks to reader about how he never wanted to get married; it was after their courthouse ceremony in ch 2).

Also, most of the interactions between him and reader were subtly intimate in chs 1-2… he really did not start acting more bold until after the smut scene in ch 3 (ie, he tries to kiss her in the supply room and in the kitchen). Basically, his walls did not come down until they shared that first kiss, because it solidified his own feelings for her. He mentions this to reader when they share their second kiss in ch 6.

If you listen to the song on my playlist for mhm called “Cardiac Arrest” by Bad Suns, it really speaks to the image I had of Satoru while writing the scene during/after their kiss in ch 2.

The moving too fast thing plays into readers character. She was cheated on by naoya (also naoya is just a prick lol), so of course trust is not something she is going to give lightly. I did not feel comfortable having the smut continue in ch 6 bc it felt like their relationship would regress — reader wasn’t honest with satoru yet yk? It would’ve felt super hypocritical for her to preach about how important trust is to her, but then not deliver it herself. putting myself in satoru’s position, I would feel pretty hurt if immediately after I fucked someone for the first time, they suddenly decide to tell me a secret they were hiding from me? 🙂‍↕️ Again... idk, that could be just me though, bc as I said, emotional bonds are big when it comes to physical intimacy for me.

Anyways, I hope this gave you some perspective to my own thought process and answered your question love.

As a fellow mom myself, just wanna say, you single moms are literal super heroes 🥺 Sending you love bc it is NOT easy. Thanks for reading my story and apologizing 🫶🏻

-aly💕

[spoonck]

refuting that one reviewer on here

I strongly suspect I’ll be blocked, so I’m pasting what I said here before anything else happens. This is basically a response to that snarky review we’ve all seen

Anyway to respond to their points: the game refutes most of the reviewers assumptions, if not ALL of them.

the majority of the “points” made here are based off of personal opinion, which is not really valid for the sake of this review. The reviewer keeps alluding to different types of media with similar premises, but who’s Lila is NOT westworld. It ISNT slay the princess. If you want those games, play them. If not, don’t bitch because the game you’re playing isn’t like them.

imagine if I went into a restaurant and ordered a cheeseburger. Upon eating it I exclaim “hey! This is nothing like my favorite restaurants! That makes it bad!” But if I wanted my favorite restaurants food, I should have eaten there, shouldn’t I?

as for the “points” about the characters being uninteresting.. buddy. Go through the ao3 tag. Go through the tumblr and Twitter tags. This game clearly has a very dedicated and active fan base. Are you saying all of them are objectively wrong for enjoying it? Or is it that you simply don’t like it and they do?

and to the final point- you seem to have taken a very superficial look at this game. “That means the game is superficial.” Is it? Or were you simply unwilling to give it any more of your time than you deemed worthy? If you set into playing something with the mindset you won’t enjoy it, you probably won’t enjoy it, and that seems to be what happened here.

as for your last arguments regarding Lila and tulpamancy- this is how I can tell you didn’t play the game very thoroughly. Lila ISNT a tulpa. She ISNT Lilith. Her entire point is to deceive the player with what she might be, so as to keep your attention. Now you have said you don’t find her captivating. Good for you! Doesn’t make it bad.

Something I also want to point out, is that the reviewer states that Lila is a mouthpiece for the author. This directly indicates the authors naïveté to me. The author is assuming the game is going to turn to them during one of Lila‘s monologues and directly tell them Lila is being manipulative. Lila should not be trusted in this instance. The reviewer is indicating that they do not have the reading comprehension to understand that Lila is manipulative and not to be trusted. The game all over backwards to indicate that Lila is a liar that is not trustworthy. It’s all but spelled out for the player that Lila is manipulating William in every scene which she speaks to him. if the reviewer does not understand this, it is not the fault it reads the player has simply skimmed through the game and taken everything at face value. Because the game has told them something, it must be narratively true. when in reality, the exact opposite is true. yes, who is Lila is open to player interpretation, however, that does not mean the exact opposite of these things are true. The reviewer is being intentionally dense in their understanding of the game and not giving it the full credit deserves.

Who’s Lila deliberately lured in the player with thoughts of what might be happening. It sets you up to believe that William is a “crossdressing killer” (seriously op? Shame on you.) and that Lila is some generic supernatural entity. Then it shatters your expectations to- once again- reel you in.

Overall, you don’t have to like it. But this game has a very dedicated and loving fan base. Don’t post shit about it and get surprised pikachu face when people are irritated with your generic superficial take which is ultimately boiled down to “I don’t like it, so you’re stupid for liking it, because I’m so much smarter than you.”

mic drop.

[vanillaxoshi]

Experience in Suffering - Elementals Seperated AU

“So, you’ve found your way here. Greetings”

It looks up, or at least try to face the direction of the voice. No need to even use its scan, it could already tell who it is.

The spirit of light, the light of misfortune, origin of greed-

(Fellow sinner…)

But how? How could they wake from the Moth’s Dream? Is it because they are a spirit? The robot’s system was running in whatever ways it could to find an answer. Cross referencing from the Spirit of Dreams herself is out of the picture, as she was the one controlling the dreams. So why?

“I can see the gears turning in your head, it would be better if you used that for other things though” The spirit said, and it remembered. Now is no time to stand by, it has an order to follow.

Apprehend the spirit of light.

The gears within it began to churn and form, changing its fingers into cannons and guns, but the spirit remained there, simply watching. How irrational. If they had told it to get on with things, why aren’t they doing anything?

“You’re not going to go ahead and fire?”

No, not when it has its suspicions. Experience tells the robot that if one seems very confident, it means that one has a plan. It had only been able to grasp a small fraction of the spirit’s memory before, which amounted to a lifetime of memories.

Just what do they know?

The spirit descended, landing right in front of the robot, making it move back. What is the spirit doing? Do they have a death wish? It can pull the triggers right here and apprehend the spirit that way.

But it can’t. Something in the back of its mind tells it that won’t work. Perhaps a faulty old gear, against better judgement it once again lowers its weapon.

“Usually, I like to save my thoughts for all things logical and practical, but I find philosophy becoming increasingly prevalent. Much to my dismay, I’ve been forced to face it outright” A false sigh escaped the spirit, as fake as their demeanor.

“We’re quite similar are we?” What do they mean by that?

“I don’t know if it’s only the extent of your powers, or some cruel irony, you just had to choose my most painful years. I don’t blame the child creating the dreams, twisting events to fulfill my desires at that time. It made me realize something”. Despite not having eyes, the robot could feel the spirit’s gaze.

“Despite being awake, we are both dreaming, dreaming of a better time”

They took a step forward, it floated backwards.

“Both long to return to that kinder past, maybe with our knowledge we could have fixed everything”. No, no it doesn’t. Yes it does

“But we can’t can we? It’s impossible. The only way left is forward. Fearing more pain we tell ourselves to walk the easiest road ahead of us. Fighting back hurts so we stopped fighting completely”. It wished its ego systems weren’t active, so it can’t comprehend these thoughts, but the robot can’t shut down that program no matter how hard it tried.

“Hoping for the day we simply stop functioning”. Are they trying to understand it? To achieve some form of sympathy? If that’s it then sadly, it won’t work.

It never did before, no matter what…

“No choice but to keep our accursed existence, only look at past sins as if we’re reading things in a book-“

It happened so fast. How did its sensors not catch that? The robot could only question, as its right arm is now in the grip of the spirit of light.

“It doesn’t have to be this way though. Allow me to demonstrate how to look at one’s sins in the face”

The emotions flooding its systems right now- Is it fear? Shock? Horror? What even is going on? No events like this has happened in the past! It felt its palm being turned over- Stop it! Stop this!

Just remembering the existence of the left arm, the robot pointed it at the one in front of it. Cease this insanity now foolish spirit of light-

“Zaphkiel. Yod”

A loud bang went off, but it felt no damage. In fact, there’s damage at all. What did the spirit point at?

The silence is deafening. The android robot dare not move, fearing the touch on it’s misshapen hands might leave, that there would be a thud on the floor, and the spirit would be gone, meaning it had failed it’s mission.

It felt as if time had slowed to a stop, before it heard that voice again.

“Well… That was a certainly a trip down memory lane. I knew your power didn’t have something as silly as a 100 year limit” It sounded as if the spirit was smiling ear to ear, taking delight in its horror, a feeling it doesn’t want to experience again.

Welp, been a while since I actually wrote something. Wanted cool Solar and maybe drop some lore of mah boi Remiel. I also just discovered editing the texts

We got remiel!!

Those lines in the end are added hmmm

Reading this more thoroughly

solar being eerily poetic to Remiel and Remiel just not comprehending whatever is happening being with Solar

The android crossed out, so this period Remiel hasnt considered himself much of a person just a robot with a job to do

Trying to supress what makes him less of a robot too

And Solar is helping but in a not so pleasant way? Like help Remiel through this crisis of his despite both of them just gone through a recap of what Neira did for them

[buzzdixonwriter]

How To Edit The Buzz Dixon Way

This is descriptive, not prescriptive.  This is how I do it, I’m not telling you to do it this way.  Take from it anything you find useful.

There are two types of editing:  Copyediting and Story Editing.

Let’s start with the former.

Copyediting is focused on fixing spelling / grammatical / typographical errors; it is not significantly altering the underlying material.

MSWord and programs like Grammarly tag potential errors but often miss a lot of them, too.  For longer manuscripts I print out the document in full then start at the very end and work my way forward, looking for errors.

Physically going through a document backwards makes errors pop out more readily to the human eye. 

One I finish my preliminary copyedit, I then begin story editing.  I do this in red pen on the same printout I just copyedited, then when entering the changes in the file, again start at the end and work forward.

This keeps the page count from being screwed up; start at the front and even a small change can alter the page count after it, making it harder to locate passages you’re looking for.

There’s a bit of advice that says never start editing until you finish the first draft.

This is one of those aphorisms that’s meant with good intent but soon falls short in practicality.

When this advice is short for “Don’t endlessly rewrite your opening but get the story down so you can work on it in toto,” that’s valid. 

But many is the time I’m 2/3 of the way through a story when I realize the scene I’m working on would be better if Suzy owned a hamster so I go back and find a couple of places where I can lay track by referencing Suzy owns a hamster even if I don’t make it a major story point.

Conversely, I might recognize I have two characters who could easily be melded into one.  In that case I simply start writing the combined character from that point forward and make a note to go back and meld them in their earlier scenes.

It’s a matter of degree and complexity balanced against work discipline.  In 50-plus years of writing, I developed the discipline to go back and make adjustments on an unfished manuscript then resume telling the story where I left off.  If you’re easily sidetracked, you may want to wait until you’re finished to start editing.

I tend to write shaggy and loose, others write very sparse first drafts.  They need to go back and add and embellish, I need to whack away deadwood.

It’s been said one needs to write a story three times:  First to tell it to yourself, then to figure out what you’re trying to say, and finally to figure out how to say it to readers.

I over explain and put in way too much detail in my first drafts.  For my personal understanding of the story, I need to completely understand its world.

Sidebar:  Many think “world building” only applies to sci-fi and fantasy stories (and truth be told, it’s lots of fun coming up with exotic imaginary environments) but contemporary stories need it just as much if not more.

From research I’ve done for stories I’ve written, I have detailed knowledge of how live TV studios operated, what the social order of Wild West mining towns was like, and why the movie industry came to Southern California (only partially for good sunny weather, mostly to get as far away from Thomas Edison as possible).

All of this grounds me in the environment of my story, making it real to me – but not necessarily vital for my readers to now.

Case in point, this passage from a story set in a 1950s TV station:

Before the early evening news, Kline showed her the technical aspects of the job.

“We’ve got two big maps of Winnemac and the Midwest you’ll stand in front of,” he said.  “Both are painted on a thin sheet of steel.  We use magnetized symbols to show where the weather is coming from.  Miss Perkins will set up the maps with pressure fronts and storm warnings and whatnot before you go on the air.  You just point to them as you read your cue card and leave the rest to us.”

“Tell her about the Technamation,” Miss Perkins said.

“The what?” Mary asked.

“It’s a filter system we put on the studio lights,” said Kline.  “The magnetized symbols use polarized designs.  When we turn the filters on the lights, it makes them pulsate or look like rain is falling and stuff like that.”

“It’s a cheap way of adding effects to an otherwise static map,” Perkins said.

“I thought people just drew on weather maps,” Mary said.

Kline snorted derisively and Miss Perkins smiled.  “Connor tried that back in the late forties when we first started using weather maps.  He’d draw on them with a heavy black grease pencil.”

“The problem is that Connor is no artist,” said Kline.  “He’d try to draw the weather fronts the way they appeared on the maps we got from the weather bureau, but they always ended up looking like…well, you were married, you can guess what they looked like.”

Mary looked puzzled then she realized what Kline meant and blushed deeply.

Miss Perkins laughed.  “That’s why I do the maps now,” said Miss Perkins.  “Snow didn’t want that segment to be known as the wiener report.”

This technology was ubiquitous on black and white TV in the 1950s and early 1960s, abandoned only when color broadcasting proved incompatible with this system.  It’s an authentic detail for TV shows of the era, particularly weather reports.

But it doesn’t advance the story!

As a result, it’s gone.

Later, when the station switches to color and the accompanying chroma key matte system, I do mention that because that detail does figure into the plot.

My first draft prose tends tp be a tad too formal and academic.  I look for every place where I can change bland passive verbs into vivid active ones (viz. “I was on the deck” to “I stood on the deck”; even though “stood” isn’t dynamic it conjures up an image), I trim lengthy clauses (viz. “I started tp edit the text” to “I edited the text.”)

“I also trim my dialog.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll take two or more lines and condense and meld them together.”

“Is that all?”

“No, I’ll also eliminate some back and forth between characters.”

becomes

“I trim dialog, condensing and melding lines together and eliminating some back and forth.”

Seriously, there is no such thing as realistic dialog.  Read some court or interrogation transcripts and see how awkward and cumbersome real speech is.  What passes for naturalistic dialog in fiction is stylized in a very special manner.  Take a look at the plays of Harold Pinter; nobody does a better job than him when it comes to creating what sounds like natural dialog but really conveys an enormous amount of multi-level information.

My first drafts typically come in at around 120K, which I ideally hope to trim down to 80K but more typically land around 90K, which is a reduction of about 25% to 33%.

This ain’t easy.  It frequently requires not merely trimming dialog or removing short scenes, but whacking out entire subplots.

Some of these subplots aren’t fully developed.  For my story set in a 1950s TV studio, I laid track for a subplot involving a list of fan club members that I originally intended to be part of my story’s conclusion.

But as I got closer to the end, I found the fan club subplot extraneous, enabling me to not only cut references to it earlier in the story but related subplots about characters involved in the club.

Entire families and their associated subplots went out the window with it, but all scattered throughout the novel, not in one big easy to remove lump.

Part of my challenge in story editing is that I do not write linear stories ala most adventure or mystery stories but rather a web of interconnected plots where seeming unrelated characters put things in motion.

In a purely linear story I can simply drop enter chapters, linking things together with a simple “After fighting their way through the Swamp of Spiders, Thundarr and his companions…”

Interlocking subplots, however, require rerouting certain plot threads through other characters and events to make sure the story winds up where I intend it.

Using geographic terms, I know which city I want my stories to end in, which neighborhood, and frequently which block.

But the exact address, floor number, room, and chair where the climax finally plops down usually isn’t determined until I’m almost at my destination.

As I said, this is all carved in Jello, not stone.  Use whatever you can.

  © Buzz Dixon

[ipsen]

Off the Grid

For @chertpole for the @tgpairup event! I gave them some AriEto to chew on, and you can too! Enjoy the meal :]

Eto had never been one for nostalgia.

She had always been too busy, too focused on other things to look backwards. The past was a place of pain, of longing, and of what would never be again. It was not a source of strength, but evidence of weakness. Only by looking forward could she grab an inkling of the strength she sought.

And yet, the moment her feet touched mainland Tokyo, she went here: the old shrine where it all began.

It had long since fallen into disrepair; it was on no map in the first place, and no one who knew about it bothered to tell. She remembered being attracted to it for that very reason. After all, she was similarly discarded. With her mother dead, her father had seen fit to discard the very thing that reminded him of his failure, and a tool was no longer necessary when everything was fixed. In occupying it as a fellow forgotten one, they would remember each other.

It was stupid, really; places never remembered the people that trampled upon it, but foolish girls were wont to dream.

Eto traced the branch of one of the trees, which had grown tall and strong these past thirteen years. Its trunk was thick and sturdy, and it towered above her, when before it was but a mere sapling, under threat of being crushed on a whim. Not only that, but its roots had finally broken the stone before the shrine, the spot where her world finally began to turn.

Time really did fly; being here now, she almost remembered the scene like it was yesterday. Her, missing an arm and collapsed in a heap within her kakuja. The shrine, broken from the weight. And then, suddenly—

“You’re here.”

Eto looked up and, upon seeing who it was, smirked. There was only one person who could sneak up on her like that, and as the years went by, she minded it less and less.

Seeing him here, it almost made her think the past had caught up to her, but she knew that wasn’t true. There were little differences to this new old meeting that made it so. Stark white hair instead of a nightshade blue. Her own hair, grown into a wild mane. An eye that couldn’t see anything anymore, and hers that had to squint when reading text on a book.

“Kishou Arima,” she said with a mirthless giggle. “Come to bask in your glory days?”

“No,” he said simply, as flat as ever. “I was just on my way to the 23rd.”

It was a little frustrating, to be honest, how little she could get out of him, but at the same time, that veil— or rather, that wall— was a comfort. The idea that there would always be something she could never truly understand, that there would always be something more to discover— It kept her going on some days. It meant she could keep digging, keep searching, keep fighting, and there would still be more. The Sysyphian assurance of an expected, if infinite, battle.

“And you?” Arima brought Eto out of her thoughts. “Why?”

The nostalgic question made her scoff. There were many people who asked similar things, but he was the only one she answered. “You’re asking that now? Are you truly so—”

“I am,” he interrupted. “Why?”

His gaze was unwavering, but a trick of the light made her think that there was a twinkle to them. Maybe, deep down in his empty void for a soul, he was actually amused. She chuckled at the prospect, then decided to indulge it. “I’ve just come back from Rushima, and I got a call that my editor is being ‘interrogated’.”

“By who?”

“You know who.” She didn’t have to say the name. “He had that look, you know. Almost reminded me of you.”

Arima paused. “He’s begun reading your work again. They remind him of himself, it seems.”

“So I noticed. And you? What do you think of them?”

He shrugged. “They’re wordy.”

She rolled her eyes at that. He never was one to talk at length, even about books, which he supposedly liked. Even now, where the end for them was in sight, he did not waver in this.

“Anyway,” she shrugged, “cutting through here is faster to get to where he is.”

It was a lie, just like Arima’s reason. This place was far too out of the way to justify coming here, regardless of destination; that was why Eto had chosen it in the first place. However, neither of them called the other out; they knew without saying.

“You’ve made your decision, then?” she asked, as if she even needed to.

He nodded. “The raid’s set to happen soon, and Squad 0 will be guarding Cochlea.”

“I feel safer already.” She smiled, but it faded soon enough. “It will be difficult for him.”

“He’ll succeed,” Arima said, and he almost sounded reassuring. “I’ll make him.”

“So you will.” A chuckle. “You always were one to force things.”

“Better than never letting things happen at all.”

“Hmph.”

Forcing things— that was the way of the One-Eyed King. Forcing his way to the top, clambering over the corpses, and creating a living legend that ghouls all over Tokyo despaired over. To supplement it, Eto became the Owl, his shadow, to give humans a reason to cling to him and justify their needless killing. She ate and ate and ate, taking the corpses and creating a shawl with which to conceal herself.

However, the thing about despair was that hope could just as easily be born from it. Were someone to topple that legend and create something new of it, ghouls would suddenly have a shining beacon of hope to look toward, and they would finally be willing to fight for their existence, finally be willing to live and not just survive. Not only that, but the humans who killed ghouls would finally be forced to turn inward and face the truth of the matter: they were played for fools.

But the thing about toppling such a legend was that it required a sacrifice. One unique sacrifice, and that, in and of itself, almost made it precious.

Eto stared at the coveted object as he turned on his heel and walked away. The way he still refused to really and truly look at her, even after thirteen long years, told her that there was still something he wasn’t telling her, but she couldn’t tell what.

It didn’t matter, of course; things were only ever going to end this way. The two of them were only cracks in the shell, crumbling in on themselves so that the real king could crawl out to the other side. Neither of them were strong enough on their own, nor did they have the tools or background to see it through themselves.

Still, they would try, and someone else, someone better, that made up the best parts of them, could do it when they couldn’t. They could find someone like that, surely, and they had. A miracle, not lying on cold concrete, but shining and flying through the sky. As his predecessors fell into the abyss and closed their eyes to that sparkling beacon, they would go satisfied, knowing it wasn’t all for nothing.

Despite that, though, as Eto watched Arima, she wondered if things could be different. If he could find— or rather, if he could see a way where he didn’t choose death over the world. Where he survived, and continued the fight. Would that result in a better outcome? If the Reaper turned his blade on the strings keeping him down instead of going limp in their grasp, could things change?

… No. No, they couldn’t; he had come too far down his bloody path to try and pave a new one. Much like her, a bloody cannibal who couldn’t find the bottom of her own stomach, he had piled up a tower of corpses far too high to topple it over now. They were monsters, simple as that. They, who took lives on a whim, were not worthy of seeing the new world, nor should they be allowed to fight any longer than they had to. Death was just as much a part of life as living was, and so they would entrust their legacy to their successor— their better.

Their king.

Still, if death was to be their fate, she wanted to try something out. She wanted to leave nothing unsaid, and as much as she hated to admit it, this was one of them. With a step and a call, she spoke a single word:

“Kishou.”

He paused halfway down the road. She waited for a reaction, for anything, really. She didn’t fully understand why she wanted to say what she said; she just knew she had to say it before the coming end. It felt strange saying it, but it had to be said.

Perhaps a part of her wished for him to turn around, and in doing so, change his mind. Change his path. Because if he could, so could she. In saying his name, she was positing a question: could they defy the death that would inevitably catch up to them? Was there a world where miscreants like them could exist together?

A gust of wind blew through the area, and leftover dew on the tree leaves, like blood, slipped off and hit the ground. Eto stared at the white back of his coat as she waited. Always, she waited.

It felt a little ridiculous. What exactly was she waiting for, anyway? It wasn’t like changing what she called him would cause him to turn around and— and what? Smile at her? Touch her? Kiss her?

She frowned. That sort of thing wasn’t possible for people like them. They shouldn’t— they couldn’t seek something like that. There were always bigger, more important things than trash like them.

Eto wet her lips in the silence.

She wanted him to turn around. So, so badly. She wanted him to turn around and run back to her, enthusiasm, anticipation, and joy springing him forth instead of emptiness, anger, and despair. She wanted him to gather her into his arms and hold her like she was the world, like she was the only thing that mattered. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, desperate and longing for the touch of someone who knew his greatest secret, from someone he had bared his heart to, even if only slightly.

She could be that person. She could touch him like he wanted to, and he could do the same to her. They would fit quite well together, she imagined, like pieces of a broken puzzle. Two terrible souls who, at the bottom of the barrel, had found each other. It could work, if she were more delusional and presumptuous than she was.

Fortunately, her feet did not obey her misguided and silent desire; they stayed planted, waiting as they always did. Arima also seemed to remember himself, and continued walking as though she hadn’t said anything at all. All began to fit itself back together. He walked, she watched, until she was alone again.

With a practiced sigh, she shrugged off the heartache.

[lonesome-witching]

I Couldn't Kill You If I Tried

I'm so excited for this prompt. I had a blast writing it and I hope you guys like it. This one features a flayed Nancy. Thanks again to the anonymous prompter who left this in my asks.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

“And I think that’s kind of special, you know?” Robin had been rambling for about ten minutes now. There was something about being close to Nancy to caused her to lose the ability to shut up. She just talked and talked and talked. And she knew why, she knew it was because Nancy made her nervous, she knew that it was because she had a crush on Nancy, but it didn’t change the fact that she constantly felt like a nuisance.

Especially now. Because Nancy wasn’t reacting. She wasn’t nodding her head with a tight-lipped smile. She wasn’t giggling at the ridiculous bullshit Robin shared. She wasn’t recognizing Robin’s existence in the slightest.

It felt like one of the many nightmares Robin had. The ones where she ran her mouth and shared too much, and Nancy found out the truth about her. They never ended well.

“Nance?” Robin hated herself for the way her voice quivered.

There was no reaction.

Robin rushed forward on clumsy feet and walked backwards, simply to be able to get a better look at Nancy. If the girl hadn’t been walking, Robin would have assumed this was all Vecna.

“Nance?” Robin asked again. But as she looked into Nancy’s eyes, she missed the blue. Instead, her eyes were black, as if those irises had been poisoned by a drop of ink. “Nance? Are you alright?”

Maybe it was stupid that she reached her hands towards the other girl. The girl that was still walking. But what else was Robin supposed to do?

The second her fingertip grazed Nancy’s arm, the girl tackled Robin to the ground. There were hands around her neck, squeezing almost as tight as the vines had back in the Upside Down.

“Nance, Nancy, please.” The words were barely audible. Nothing more than shallow breaths. “Please, let go.” Robin’s hands reached for Nancy’s wrists.

Blue returned to Nancy’s eyes as she threw herself off Robin’s body. Robin sat up, her hand stroking over her neck. She had already opened her mouth to comfort Nancy, to tell her everything would be okay, even if she didn’t understand what had just happened. But Nancy muttered a soft sorry before rushing away.

-

“Something is wrong. I think she might be… flayed,” El said, her eyes closed tightly and a drop of blood dripping out her nose.

Robin was sitting in front of her, silently tapping her finger against her knee. She had been beyond agitated when she reached Hopper’s cabin. It still was a bit of a dump despite the work they all had done on it. Robin was pretty sure Joyce was actively looking for another place to stay. Something that shouldn’t be this hard with people moving away left and right.

“She’s fighting though. She’s fighting, but she seems… she seems tired.” El opened her eyes and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I tried to reach for her, but she pushed me out.”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Robin yelled. She jumped up and started pacing the floor. “Flayed? That means she is like Billy. We all know how that ended. I can’t— She can’t die.”

“Will was flayed at one point and we got it out of him,” Jonathan offered.

“How?” Robin stopped pacing and instead opted to stare at the boy on the couch, Nancy Wheeler’s ex-boyfriend.

“Me and Nancy burned it out of him.”

Robin thought about pushing a hot poker into Nancy’s flesh and a shiver ran down her spine. She couldn’t. She could never hurt Nancy like that.

A knock at the door prohibited Robin from saying anything else. Robin followed Jonathan’s lazy steps toward the cabin door.

“You know it’s not polite to poke into someone’s head without permission.” Nancy looked different. She was wearing tight leather pants and a black shirt. Robin hated to admit that it looked hot on her.

“Nancy?” Robin asked.

“Robin?” Nancy’s face twisted into a sweet smile. It was almost easy enough to pretend it was real.

“What are you doing here?” The words felt bitter in Robin’s mouth. A few days ago, she would have been delighted to see Nancy at her doorstep.

“I’m here for you, of course.” Nancy took a step forward. “I want to finish our little get together from earlier. Aren’t you in the mood?”

Jonathan tried to grab for Nancy’s arm, but she escaped his grasp. It was shocking that Nancy seemed to be moving with even more elegance than she usually did. It somehow made Robin feel even smaller, more inadequate, than she usually did. Because even in her current stance she portrayed a lack of elegance that she had never seen on another girl.

“I’m not sure I am in the mood,” Robin responded, a soft breath escaping her mouth without consent. She had barely registered the way she had been holding her breath.

“Oh, poor Robin. Can’t you make some time for your dear friend. I really would love to speak to you.” Nancy’s voice sounded off. Like she was playing a character.

In the back of her mind Robin heard El’s voice. I think she might be… flayed. So, maybe she was playing a character. Or rather, maybe Vecna was playing a character. Was it Vecna? Or was the Mind Flayer its own boss? Robin wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe she had missed too much of the beginning.

“Nancy.” She felt almost stupid saying that name. Because every step Nancy took toward her made her look less like Nancy.

“Robin, Robin, Robin.” Each time Nancy’s voice uttered her name, she took a step closer. “I’m really going to enjoy ripping your heart out.”

When Jonathan tried to grab Nancy’s arm again, he succeeded. His hand tight around the limb. Robin worried it was hurting Nancy. But the girl simply turned towards the boy she used to love with a smirk on her face. All it took was one push for him to go flying through the room. Robin wanted to scream. But not a single sound escaped her.

Maybe she had gotten lucky that Nancy seemed to be distracted. It would have been the perfect moment for Robin to run, as Nancy walked over to Jonathan’s limp body and El jumped into action to defend her brother. This was how Robin could get out. But she was locked into place, simply destined to watch. So, she did.

She watched as Nancy straddled Jonathan’s body. She watched as those slender fingers gripped for Jonathan’s throat. She watched as Jonathan defended himself and Nancy pushed him in the face. She watched as El threw Nancy off her brother without so much as taking one step closer.

And then Nancy laughed. She laughed as she crawled up. There was blood on her knuckles and a grin on her face and yet she still looked beautiful. Robin was well aware she shouldn’t be thinking about that now.

She continued watching and yet she didn’t see what happened. All she knew was that in the blink of an eye El lay unconscious on the floor and fear gripped at Robin’s heart.

Nancy released a long breath. “Finally, just you and me.”

Robin felt the hairs on her arm stand upright. She wanted to crawl into the corner of the room. She stayed standing where she stood. “Why do you want me?”

Nancy rolled her eyes dramatically. “I don’t, she does.”

“Alright, well what does she want from me?”

“It’s hard to say. But it’s a distraction. You, Robin, are a distraction. And I can’t have any distractions.”

One hand squeezed Robin’s throat. Just like before. She tried to find a sign on Nancy’s face, an indicator of what she was meant to do. Nancy was the one who came up with plans. Nancy was the one who took charge. And now Nancy was gone, and Robin was struggling to breathe in more ways than one.

She thought about dying. She thought about whether or not there would be a heaven and hell and where she’d end up. If the religious were right, she’d be burning for all eternity. But Robin was certain it wouldn’t hurt as much as this very moment. Nothing could ever hurt that much.

Her eyes fell to Nancy’s lips. They weren’t smiling anymore. They weren’t doing anything. Robin wasn’t sure what came over her. She pushed against Nancy’s hand to get closer, to close that damned space between them and then she connected their lips. It was shocking how nice it felt. Or maybe it wasn’t shocking at all because it was still Nancy. These were Nancy’s lips and no matter who had poisoned her brain, that fact would never change.

It took a few moments before Nancy’s lips started moving against her own, even before Robin’s lips moved. But as Nancy started kissing her, her hand slacked and fell off Robin’s neck only to get a hold of Robin’s shirt, pulling. Pulling Robin closer.

The kiss didn’t last long. Perhaps half a minute, and then Nancy pulled away. Her blue eyes were wet with unshed tears, one of her hands was gripping the fabric at Robin’s shoulder while the other dangled next to her body. Her lips were wet, and Robin vaguely realized that it was because of her own saliva.

“Robin?” It was barely audible.

“Nance, are you alright?”

“I— How do you know it’s me?” Nancy sounded like she wanted to cry and perhaps she did.

“Your eyes. You have blue eyes. But when you were flayed, they were dark and… your eyes.”

“You kissed me,” Nancy whispered. Almost as if she spoke too loudly it would cease to be true.

“I did. You kissed back.”

“I did.” Nancy’s hand let go of Robin’s shirt. She missed it.

“I would— do you— I—” Robin couldn’t seem to speak.

“Why did you kiss me?” Nancy interrupted.

Robin sighed. “I was about to die and— I guess I didn’t care about consequences because I had nothing to lose.”

“Would you like— does that mean— I think that—” Nancy stumbled over her words. “Would you like there to be consequences?”

Robin blinked a few times. “What do you mean?”

“I want to kiss you again,” Nancy answered.

“Oh, those kinds of consequences?”

Nancy nodded, eyes locked in on their target.

“I would like there to be those kinds of consequences.”

“Thank God.” Nancy leaned in, and Robin was certain God had nothing to do with this. This was all Nancy.

[onthesandsofdreams]

From The Sea [2/4]

Fandom: Rogue One Pairing: Cassian x Jyn Notes: Hi, uh, here's another chapter? @mousedetective: look, I wrote another chapter finally!

On AO3

She stares at the man, Cassian, her brain provides. "I am sorry," her own voice sounds dazzled. "But I most certainly have not. I don't know you."

The man, Cassian, gives her a solemn nod. "You did. But perhaps not in the way you think. You cried your pain into the sea."

Her brain near short circuits. "Excuse me?"

"The answer is simple, ma'am." Cassian says, but does not move. He makes no threatening move or sound towards her and remains firmly planted on his side of her door. "My kin and I, well, we live in the sea and we are honor and duty bound to attend those who need us. And you, Jyn Erso, need me."

She took a fearful step backwards, but still, Cassian did not move. This did not make sense! Did this man thought she was crazy or desperate? She wanted to speak, but the words died in her throat.

Cassian seemed to understand, "We are shifters. Beings created for comfort and aid; my kin and I have since time immemorial, have come to the aid of those who need us."

She rose a shaking hand towards her throat, "And how… how do I need you?"

Cassian gave her a soft smile. "You need a friend. You need comfort. To be reminded that no matter how hard things are, you are not alone."

Her pulse sped up, she could hear her blood rushing in her ears. "And you can do that?"

"Yes." Cassian said it so simply, without a hint of arrogance. Just pure unadultered belief. "Yes, I can help you, Jyn Erso."

"How do you know my name?"

"Your tears spoke it clearly enough." Cassian tilted his head, "I am willing to take an oath, if you wish, to prove that I am not here to harm you."

There was something… innocent in the way Cassian spoke. Oh he was sure of himself, but she could not detect the arrogance that made many men she had met before. Cassian seemed… very very different. There was something about him that spoke of truth, of protection, of a way out of loneliness and her heart ached, not for the first time for the father that she had lost. But still, it wasn't quite the same, Cassian was not fatherly, he was friendly. Like the friend who is with you through thick and thin. That steadfast friend who never abandons you, "I'll take your oath," she spoke before she thought about it.

Cassian nodded solemnly. "I, Cassian, of the Clan Andor, do solemnly swear to Jyn Erso that I mean her no harm. That I am here to simply be what she needs in this desperate time of need. That I will behave with honor, and never assume anything in regards towards her wishes. So I have spoken, my the abyss swallow me whole if I have spoke without honor."

For a moment, she thought her eyes were seeing things, but no. Cassian had glowed softly in front of her. The oath was binding him, she thought breathlessly. It took her a moment to recover, but when she did, she took another step backwards, "Come on in then, Cassian. I am about to have dinner."

~

Dinner, much to her surprise, is a quiet affair. Cassian seems to know how to behave in a human table. At least, he has the manners and eats respectfully and does not complain about her simple food. Since her mother's passing, she has found herself unable to make the elaborate meals she and her mom used to enjoy. Now, she eats to survive, the joy is gone.

~

She leaves Cassian in one of her guest bedrooms. As a test, she leaves her door unlocked, does not sleep thanks to her insomnia.he gives Cassian a guest bedroom and leaves him be. She leaves her door unlocked and does not sle

She reads all night and Cassian never tries to get into her room. Nor does he make a sound.

~

She makes a stronger than usual cup of coffee and when Cassian walks in, he takes one look at her and says, "You did not sleep."

She freezes.

"Your eyes are a bit red and unless you cried - which I would have heard - you did not sleep." Cassian frowns. "You need to rest Jyn, for your sake. I vowed not to harm you, if you must know, my vow would strike me dead if I tried."

When she regains her wits, she blinks and delays answering by taking a deep gulp of coffee, it is bitter and perhaps she should have added milk and sugar and it turns her stomach. Then sets her cup down, "I have insomnia. Can't sleep."

Cassian nods, as if he truly understood. "A grief like yours tends to bring it. But still, you should try and sleep, you will hurt yourself more if you don't."

She looks away. How can she tell him that every time she closes her eyes, the only thing she sees is her mother laying down in hospital bed, gaunt and pale? She swears she can still feel the cold when she touched her mother only to find her gone. "It is hard," she settles. "I have nightmares."

"If you wish, I could keep you company. We do not have to speak, just to remind you that you are not alone."

"Thank you," she says. "Perhaps. Would you care for some eggs?"

Cassian gives her a look like he knows what she's doing. In the end, he nods and she releases the breath she didn't know she was holding.

~

Later that night, she turns to Cassian, "Is the offer still up?"

"About keeping you company? Yes, it is."

They settle in the small office, she lights a fire and grabs a book. "Feel free to read what you'd like," she tells him. "It's only fair."

Cassian nods, settles with a poetry book and lets her be. And for once in a very long while, she feels at peace.

~

She is not exactly thrilled at the thought of needing help. Much less, this man who claims to come from the sea, who claims to have tasted her grief, but she cannot deny the peace she feels around him.

There is something there, something very deep and mysterious that she does not know how to explain that pulls her to him.

She does not want to consider what it may mean.

He will go away again, when she is better. And if she is being honest with herself, she does not know how to handle the fact she does not want him to.

So, she remains silent.

~

One night, one of those rare one in which she falls asleep without Cassian's help, she wakes up sobbing.

The grief she had tried to push away from her, to ignore, she finds that she can't and she now finds herself drowning in it. She is so caught up in her pain, in her sobbing, that she misses when Cassian rushes to her, misses him sitting down next to her, misses him pulling her into his arms and gently rocking her. Misses how soft his voice is when he sings in a language she does not understand.

She misses it all.

But she does not miss it the following morning, when she wakes in his arms. Cassian resting against her bed frame, her small form curled around him.

If she weren't so exhausted, she would pushed herself away. But she does not have the strenght, not with her pain and grief as raw and open as last night.

"I hope you do not mind," comes Cassian's low voice from above her head. "But I could not leave you. You needed me."

A knot forms in her throat. Yeah, she did.

"Thank you," is all she manages.

Cassian rubs her arms comfortingly, "You are most welcome, Jyn. Go back to sleep."

And, as if commanded, her lids turn heavy and she soon knows no more.

~

When she awakens next, she is still in Cassian's arms. Guilt crashes onto her quick, "Oh, Cassian, I am so sorry." She pushes herself out of his arms, and some part of her screams at her for doing so.

Cassian gives her a gentle smile, "There is no need to be sorry, Jyn. This is why I am here. Because you need me."

She clears her throat, "Still…"

Cassian's lips curl gently up, "Jyn, it is a privilege helping you. No one should be alone during such terrible moments."

She stares at him, he is calm and peaceful; undisturbed or annoyed. No, he understands and as much as she wants to deny it, she does feel better. "Would you let me make a special breakfast, as a thank you?"

Cassian's eyes sparkle with warmth, "If you feel like you must, but know that anything is fine by me."

She gives him what she hopes is a relieved smiled, "Alright then, c'mon on. My special breakfast casserole is coming up."

"Lead on, Jyn, lead on."

~

After that, life gets easier and harder.

Easier, because she finally feels like she can properly express her grief and say what's on her mind without being judged, because Cassian does not judge. "People are complicated Jyn, you are allowed to have conflicting feelings."

And she understands.

Oh, she does.

She feels lighter, because Cassian is like a beacon of light and love casting such powerful spell, that she feels like she can properly be again. She feels like she can truly morn and then, move on. Because she knows her mother would not have wanted her to cast herself in doom and gloom for the rest of her life.

No, her mother would have wanted her to dance and sing, and jump in puddles in the rain, to fall in love and form a family (whichever form it took) of her own. Her mother would be cheering her ever on. She owes it to her to honor her that way.

And harder, because with every day she passes, she cannot help but to notice Cassian.

Not Cassian the wondrous being who came to save her.

But Cassian, the man.

The man whose dark brown eyes are always full with kindness and compassion, but she can see the fire there. She knows that if Cassian saw someone being hurt, he would not stand for it. Those eyes that sparkle when he laughs and look at her and make her weak at the knees.

His deep voice, a voice that many times now has lulled her to sleep. There is something there, deep and enthralling about it that much like a siren's song, she cannot help but want to follow and continue hearing him speak.

His lean, strong form. How firm his chest felt on those times she felt asleep in his arms. His arms, that every time he wrapped them around her, she had to pretend to be fine letting go. She wanted to lived encircled in the safety of his arms.

How to forget this? How to ignore this? The answer was simple: There would not forgetting Cassian.

She knew that she was headed for heartbreak, but she did not care. Her mother would have reminded her that it no matter the pain, it was better to love and loose than shielding her heart always afraid of breakage.

And so, one night she arms herself with valor. She hypes herself up and buys flowers for her table, a decent bottle of wine and she whips up a three course meal.

When she calls Cassian over, she does her best to be calm. She did not dress up, she knows she should have; but that would have tipped Cassian that she was planning something, and for this, she would need a bit of the element of surprise.

When Cassian enters the kitchen and sees the table, he gives her a look she can't quite decipher. It feels like an eternity before he smiles at her and sits down, she releases the breath she did not know was holding and she grins. Her heart beats faster at the look in Cassian's eyes. Unless she is imagining it, there is something almost predatory in them. The phrase, 'Hungry like the wolf', comes unbidden.

A wild part of her hopes he will eat her whole.

The dine, under the guise of her thanking him for everything that he has done for her. He gives her a knowing look and says, "I know, and our time together is almost gone."

She bites down the bitterness that comes with his statement, but she will not be deterred. If she will only have even one night with him, the pain of their parting will be worth it. "And I will be sorry to see you go," she says softly. "You have been - dare I say it - almost heaven sent. I would not have been able to mourn and let it go without you."

Cassian shakes his head, "You would have. Eventually, but you are too strong a person to have crumbled, your pain would have diminished on its own; I simply sped up the process."

"Still," she says. "You are the best thing that could have happened to me."

Cassian gives her a look that she can't identify, "And I count myself fortunate, Jyn Erso, in getting to know you."

She does not speak, but holds his eyes instead. She watches as they darken, as they grow deeper and there is that fire. Her heartbeat speeds up, blood rushes in her ears and…

They both stand up as one, Cassin gives two long steps and takes her into his arms. His lips descent on hers, and she responds to his hunger eagerly. Willing to be consume and to devour him. To melt and become one. Cassian's hands slowly go from her waist to her rear, and she shivers as his hands leave trails of fire. A fire that roars when he clutches at her ass, and she, by instinct, leaps into his arms.

They barely part lips enough to draw breath, and then their lips clash again. She clings to him as he takes them to her bed. The clothes come off, nearly being ripped from each other's bodies, strewn all over her floor. She does not care.

All that she care right now, is the passion, the love she feels for this man. All that matter is his hands on her body, his lips on her, the groans she manages to pull from him. All that matters is this mutual pleasure.

And she feels lighter and happier than she has ever been. Cassian draws moans and shivers from her no one ever has, she understands now the French's reason of 'la petit morte'. And she knows that no other man will ever compare to this one, to this kind, gentle, passionate and loving man who fits with her so seamlessly.

Tired, worn, content and more at peace than she has ever being, she falls asleep atop Cassian's naked chest, using his heartbeat as a lullaby.

The pain will come, but right now, all that matters is this moment.

[dogwittaablog]

I was never a nolpat fan (didn't hate him, he just wasn't one of the guys I was fannish about), and even I was... not devastated, but still felt something of a gut-punch when I read about what he said in these accounts. And it's not because I have some rosy view of hockey - I grew up around it, unfortunately I know all too well how toxic it can be. I try to go into fandom with the expectation that any player (including/especially the ones I admire) can do any of the myriad terrible things that are so common in this sport's culture, fall in step with the also terrible political views of the majority, would generally be a person I would not want to talk to irl. The gut-punch part for me I think comes from 1) plain old sadness/disappointment/horror at the reminder of how awful human beings can be, just, in general, because yes of course I know these people exist and see evidence of it all too often, and even if this was some rando on the internet those comments would be upsetting; and 2) that these comments hit me right in my sense of unfairness, that so much opportunity and privilege was given to someone so terrible. (Of course privilege isn't distributed based on goodness, but it's always infuriating to see shitty people get good things/no comeuppance for being shitty; sure, cosmic justice isn't a thing, but we sure wish it were.)

As many others have said, I do think it's important to understand the reality of this sport's culture and its myriad issues, and take steps back to make sure you're keeping that fiction/reality divide clear in your head, but as you pointed out, some people are new or have less experience with the realities of hockey for whatever reason, and even if they are, people will be upset by news of someone being a piece of shit because someone being a piece of shit is generally upsetting. I don't think it's productive to tear people down for simply not knowing how bad it was. Dismay and the misguided belief that someone being good-looking and talented and quiet correlates to their quality as a person aside, I have yet to see anybody digging in their heels and bending over backwards to defend him (like other anon(s) pointed out, the Kane fandom meltdown was... scarring, to say the least, and I have absolutely no patience for that, that is block on sight for me.) We're all in this fandom community together, do try to give people some grace to be upset, and maybe don't call them deranged or in need of professional help so readily.

(Which is to say, I agree with your stance!)

A little bit of a long read for some, but you broke down even more points and articulated parts I wish I could've come up with in some of my other anon responses.

I'm sure you're specifically talking about P.Kane (There is so many genuine problematic fucks in the league with the last name Kane, ironically). Though don't even get me started on that because I remember hearing stories about P.Kane through my brother even when I was 12 and seeing media gradually expose his problematic behaviours as well over time too. I am truly convinced anyone who's a fan of his new or old, just obsess over how hot he was in his early 20's and that's all they see when they think or hear of him, cause bro my man went downhill after a point, so it's like what are you even liking about this dude, cause I know it's not even about how he plays hockey LMAO... He literally has an open track record that with a 10 second search you can find everything problematic he's done the past decade, heck you even got grown men even saying fuck that dude too. His fangirls are definitely what I'd consider concerning.

[twise]

I’m kinda wondering how you’re dealing with the frustration from the situation, as well, a fellow American. Its frustrating trying to explain to my 60 year old parents that you can’t call it a war when the causalities are 1,600:26,000 and have to just be told “war is always ugly, countries have rights to defend themselves” BS or well seeing our lovely nation spew more shit on the matter and American news channels interviewing IDF soldiers. Biggest pig alive bill Maher meeting with other white men to talk about how “young people don’t know what they’re talking about”

I feel frustrated towards my nation and the efforts being put in because the disillusionment doesn’t come from like wanting to give up or anything like that, but doing everything in your power to want to help people who are suffering only to takes 4 steps backwards bc of some ailing white man. I feel so embarrassed towards Palestine because my nation is putting blood on their soil, it’s like screaming at the top of your lungs but they only fill with water. Gah sorry to rant I’m just home right now and thus have no one to talk to about it without starting an argument

first of all, im not america, im actually from north africa, living in europe! my entire family is aggresively pro-palestine, so thankfully no problems there.

it's incredibly frustrating to see other people be so ignorant and stupid! the media is trying very hard to push a narrative, but it isn't an excuse for anyone to not see that it is simply a genocide and nothing else. all the signs are there and more importantly, all the evidence of a genocide are there. i understand your emotions completely! the western media outlets are so so so biased and often just blatantly wrong in the articles they write that it makes me angry everytime i read them. living in the west means you practically have no voice. it's always freedom this democracy that but the fact that no country is doing ANYTHING despite all the demonstrations and vocal support for palestine is very telling on every government. but we should never lose hope, the difference between the attitude towards the genocide before and after this war is huge, there is progress that is being made. and we should also try our best to changte the mindset of the people around us. that is in my opinion so important! "it's like screaming at the top of your lungs but they only fill with water" is very well said. i can only imagine how it must be to actually have to live with people that don't want to see. i really wish you the best of luck!!

[darklingichor]

By the Shores of Silver Lake; by Laura Ingllas Wilder

This one turned out long, so I decided to look at it on its own.

By the Shores of Silver Lake picks up in Plum Creek, some time has passed since that Hopeful Christmas Eve were we left the Ingalls.

Baby sister Grace was born, but despite that happy occurrence, everyone is a bit sadder. The family came down with scarlet fever, and it's has left Mary blind and weakened.

Laura has become Mary's eyes, painting word pictures for her sister. This task and the fact that she has had to take over things that Mary will not be able to do, or has not recovered enough to do yet, has made her more mature, and patient.

Money is tight, with the grasshopper years not far behind them and doctor bills to be paid.

This understandably gloomy mood is interrupted when Laura's aunt Docia, Charles's sister, comes riding up to their door. She has a job offer for Pa. She and her husband are running a railroad camp in the Dakota Territory, and they need a bookkeeper and storekeeper. The pay is good and, Charles and Caroline decide that it is too good an opportunity to pass up. Mary isn't strong enough to travel, so, it is decided that Caroline and the girls will follow when she is well enough.

Off Charles goes, and a few months later the rest of the family boards a train. Their first time traveling this way.

Since I read these backwards, I also believe this is the first time the book mentions something that makes this daughter of a nurse twitch.

The communal drinking cup/dipper

It's one thing to have a cup shared between Mary and Laura, or having a family dipper for water ( you do what you can with what you have) but *one vessel * for a bunch of strangers to drink out of? I know, I know, knowledge of the transmission of sickness was different back then, but all I could think was ACK! That thing is made of TB and influenza!

Anyway, they all get to Dakota Territory where they interact with more people than they had in the first four books. Not just talking with people, but being around them. it's odd, because the reader is so use to having the Ingalls family being in open spaces, them being in a crowd seems closterphobic somehow, and is a sign of changing times.

Soon Pa comes for them and they head to the railroad camp on Silver Lake.

On the way there, the wagon is followed by a menacing man on horse back, Caroline is nervous, but then another man tall, in a red shirt and riding bareback, shows up and Pa assures them all that they will be okay, because that is Big Jerry, a good man who is half Native American. Sure enough Big Jerry keeps the potential trouble man away from the family. As with even positive potrayls of indigenous people, Big Jerry's introduction is problematic, because along with having Pa's seal of approval Big Jerry is also decribed thusly: as a gambler and poossible horse thief, a wild man, and also as moving with his horse "as if they were one animal." I get what is trying to be conveyed, Big Jerry is in sync with his horse, he knows his horse and his horse knows him, making riding effortless. But the word choice made me wince. I would have simply dropped the word "animal" but...

This passage is also difficult for me because the descriptions of landscape are great, and also, after Big Jerry rides off, there is a piece of writing that not only shows Laura's commitment to paint a beautiful world for Mary, but also how the two girls differ in personality.

"Laura let out her breath. 'Oh, Mary! The snow-white horse and the tall, brown man, with such a black head and a bright red shirt! The brown prairie all around—and they rode right into the sun as it was going down. They’ll go on in the sun around the world.'

Mary thought a moment. Then she said, 'Laura, you know he couldn’t ride into the sun. He’s just riding along on the ground like anybody.'

But Laura did not feel that she had told a lie. What she had said was true too. Somehow that moment when the beautiful, free pony and the wild man rode into the sun would last forever" (Pg 62, Kindle edition).

Mary is very practical, very concrete in her imagination. Laura on the other hand is all feeling. Neither one is better than the other but I feel like it is good character development to show how these two viewpoints clash at times and cause annoyance to both girls.

The family gets to the camp and are met by Docia's family that includes cousins, as well as a surprise for Caroline, her brother Henry.

What follows is Laura and her cousin Lena having a lot of fun, riding Ponies, singing. There is a lot of fascination around the building of the railroads and seeing it done. Here the subtext is heavy.

Pa tells an excited Laura that the camp is a small one, and, one would guess, start to describe how they work together, but Ma stops him with the slightest shake of her head. Pa gets it and tells the girls (looking right at Laura) to steer clear of the workers.

Later, after Laura continues to be fascinated by how the building works, Pa says that he will take her to see.

Ma takes Laura aside and tells her to go if she must, but not to speak with any of the men in the camp, and not to take her cousin Lena, who while a good girl, was "boisterous ".

All of this comes on the heels of Laura meeting a woman who's 13 year old daughter had just gotten married.

WhT is being said without being said is that Caroline is understandably nervous. She has four daughters in the middle of a camp of men. Mary likes to stay home, but Laura is outgoing, curious, and brought up to be nice. Where Laura goes Carrie might want to follow. And cousin Lena is even more outgoing than Laura and Docia has not "curbed her as much as she might." (Pg. 95, Kindle edition).

She's afraid that someone might take advantage of the girls, either though convincing them that they wanted to marry them, or through force. If I imagine this part of the book from Caroline's perspective, it's a nightmare.

And continues to be honestly. At one point, all the workers revolt, because they are not getting their full month's pay at one time. Since Charles is the book and storekeeper they start to go after him. This is averted, but Caroline and the girls have a tense time of it.

The winter is cozy and relaxing, not least because the family has the whole camp town to themselves.

They spend the winter, after the camp is packed up, in The Surveyor's house with a stocked pantry, Pa finds the land that he wants to put a claim on, Reverend Alden from Walnut Grove comes by, tells the Ingalls about a college for the blind in Iowa, they make friends with Mr. Boast and his new wife.

And then what happens is the equivalent of when you open the door for one person and the entire building decides to evacuate and you happen to be the doorman.

The family is settling down after a busy holiday season with house guests when a wagon full of inexperienced men pull into De Smet and is on their way to another town, Heron. Charles is worried that if they don’t let them stay they will get lost and freeze to death. So they feed and let the group stay the night.

And so begins another Nightmare for Caroline.

The people keep coming through, and eventually the Ingalls start charging for people to eat and stay. Meanwhile, the girls are pressed into kitchen duty and have to be locked in their room upstairs at night until Ma sounds the all clear. They do make a good chunk of money to go toward sending Mary to college.

Honestly, the rest of the book, save the the last few chapters, weren't all that interesting to me. Pa gets the claim, they move out if town and away from the steady stream of borders.

The most exciting thing that happens is that while planting trees on the claim, little Grace goes missing. After a frantic search, Laura finds her in a deep depression in the Prarie surrounded by violets.

Pa tells Laura that it was an old buffalo wallow. With the Buffalo mostly gone, their wallows have grown over with grass and given a good place for the flowers to grow.

The family settles into their claim shanty and they are finally home.

This book is very uneven for me. On the one hand, there is a lot to unpack. The building of the railroads calling people west simply because of the need for workers, coupled with the tantalizing promise of comparably cheap land, the challenges that presented. Ma's anxiety always just under the surface, and the new found hope for Mary that came from a visit from an old friend.

There is a tension in this book, between the family's desire to be self sufficient, interacting with the community on their terms, and the continuing settlement of the west making this a harder and harder thing to do.

This is symbolized by the dwindling population of Buffalo and Buffalo wolves. Pioneer Girl does talk a lot about this time, but it was all very similar to what was in the book.

The part that stood out to me was that Laura and cousin Lena use to sing when they milked the cows, after Lena and her family left Laura didn't feel like singing. Ma complained that she wasn't getting as much milk as usual. She then says that she pe4fored an experiment. Singing while she milked and then not singing. She found that the cows gave more milk when she sang. She says wryly that she had discovered this fifty years before an agricultural experiment station had figured it out. I enjoy it when Laura let's that kind of humor out.

All in all, there's a lot of stuff happening in this book, but it's not the best one.