#wonder if at one point she showed something off to Tide

[moominpopzz]

Thinking ab Ashe Winters and wondering if after awhile of trying to show Mark stuff she does and him not caring, if she just stares at the things she creates and accomplishes and imagines a world where she could show him and he’d smile and ruffle her hair and tell her he’s proud of her and whatnot

[wonderjanga]

Where Have you Been?

This is inspired by this post.

Billy was having a rough day. Scratch that. A rough couple of months. Recently, he’s been… losing himself? He doesn’t know how to put it into words. It’s just that more he’s Marvel, the more he forgets about being Billy. In all honesty, it’s scaring him. What’s even worse is that, no matter what others think, he isn’t in control anymore, and Billy knows it. One moment, he’ll just be Billy Batson and then the next he’ll be Marvel with no recollection of even saying the word. Billy truly wished he hadn’t noticed the gaps in his memory getting bigger.

Speaking of memory gaps, Billy had a pretty big one to fill considering all he did was go to bed, and was then greeted with the misfortune of waking up on a random beach with the lower half of his body slightly wet from the tide. All he knows is that he’s not near Fawcett, let alone Iowa, because last he checked, it was a landlocked state. So, he got up, and decided to go find out where he was.

Billy: *wandering around while shaking any sand off himself, eventually spotting a flag* “Oh! I’m in… I still have no idea.”

Glasses Lady: *approaches him* “Por que você não está na escola?” (Translation: Why aren’t you in school?)

Billy: *frog blinks* “Huh?”

Billy was… pretty sure that was Spanish. So he’s probably still on earth. Maybe. After a little bit of back-and-forth, the Glasses Lady finally realized he couldn’t understand what Billy was only half sure was Spanish. In the end, she just started taking him around to find somebody who could speak English.

Glasses Lady: “¿Você fala inglês? Acho que este é o filho de um turista.” (Translation: Do you speak English? I think this is a tourist's son.)

Old Granny: “Não. Pobre garoto.” *leans down to pinch his cheek* (Translation: “No. Poor boy.)

Billy: *confused as to why this random old lady is pinching his cheek*

Eventually, after a while, they did find somebody who could speak English.

Billy: “Do you know where I am, miss?”

College Student: “You’re in Brazil.”

Billy: “Brazil??” *sounds super concerned* “Isn’t that in South America? I think?”

College Student: “It is. How did you even get here? Are you on vacation?”

Billy: “No? I just woke up here.” *wondering how he’s gonna explain this to Rosa*

College Student: “What?” *also now concerned because she thinks this child might’ve been a victim of trafficking*

Billy: “Uhm… you have like a map that you can show me?”

College Student: “I don’t think a map will help you, bud.”

Billy: *shrugs* “Theres always the chance it could, miss.”

College Student: “I guess?” *pulls up google maps*

Billy: *zooms out so he can just see the countries* “Oh okay. So not that far away.”

College Student: “You’re plenty far away what are you talking about? Also, why’re you sandy?” *wipes off some sand her phone*

Billy: *ignores both questions* “Do you know which way is north?”

College Student: “Uh… it should be that way.” *points in the direction*

Billy: “Oh thank you!” * is about to runoff, but looks back at the Glasses Lady* “And gracias?” *looks to the College Student* “That how you say it right?”

College Student: “No, that’s Spanish.” *shakes head* “It’s supposed to be obrigado.” (Translation: Thank you.)

Billy: “Oh, obrigado!” *definitely butchered the pronunciation and runs off to he north*

College Student: “Wait, come back!”

As soon as Billy was out of sight, he shazamed and flew in the direction she pointed in. Now, the boy wouldn’t admit this, but he actually flew slower than normal. He didn’t wanna think about the future confrontation with Rosa, not to mention his other family members. Was he prolonging the inevitable? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Also, yes. Did that mean he was gonna speed up though? …No.

Billy was just passing over Mexico when his JL comm started going off like crazy.

Marvel: *answers his comm*

Batman: “Marvel. Watchtower. Now.”

Marvel: “Huh? Why did I do something wrong?”

Batman: “You went AWOL for three weeks, and then the first sign we find that you’re alive is a video of you partying at a Mardi Gras parade in Brazil. I really wonder what you did wrong.”

Billy was straight speechless for a solid minute. Three weeks? Three weeks? The memory gap was way bigger than he thought.

Marvel: *trying to find words* “I- I’m gonna be honest I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He honestly felt like crying. Genuine, ugly, crying. Because now he knows it’s gotten to a point where he can’t shrug this off anymore. He could do one day. He could do two days. He’s even gone a week before. But three weeks? That’s nearly a month and he doesn’t remember anything. Billy was now being forced to acknowledged how big of a problem this was.

By now, he had stopped, still floating in mid air.

Batman: “Is that you confirming you were too intoxicated to reach out to us or-”

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir, I really can’t talk right now.” *can feel himself starting to hyperventilate* “I’ll come by later. I promise.”

Batman: “No, not later. Immediately. We all want a word with you.”

Marvel: *grimaces* “I’m sorry. I just really can’t right now. I’m really sorry.” *hangs up*

Billy just started hyperventilating after that. His chest felt tight, his world felt like it was one the brink of crashing down. He needed to go see the wizard. He needed help. The wizard could definitely help. So, he went to the rock.

Wizard: *sounds solemn* “I’m sorry, Billy.”

That was literally all the old man told him before he started talking about how the gods were starting to exert more of their influence on him. And he basically had no say, say in some of the things he would start to do from now on. Just when Billy’s life couldn’t get harder. Please, Gods, give him a break.

[brittle-doughie]

Eyoooooo I Uhh, have a really long au that’s been kinda driving me insane to keep to myself lately but not only is it nowhere near done, I’m pretty sure it’s already way too long to reasonably fit into an ask so, I guess I’m asking if you’d like to read it? Idrk I just want someone to share this idea with so that I don’t lose it completely. It’s a variation of the beast ancients au but things go horribly wrong both really slowly and really quickly.

As payment for a nothing ask, I give you: a character study moment that has absolutely nothing to do with the au in question I just thought it was neat.

You were cornered.

Nowhere left to run.

The last gleam of hope dying as you stumbled your way in. All that greets you is red torchlit stonework.

‘Why the hell are there even dead ends in here?!’ You mutter, mostly to yourself, knowing full well there’s not much of a point in being quiet now. But your incredibly valid question must wait as your pursuer, and the one who broke off your leg has found you. Huddled in the corner, clutching a dagger and jam still leaking out of where your leg once was. He hums, an idea having piqued his interest. The loud clatter of his weapon falling against the floor startles you to attention. What you see, is quite strange indeed.

Burning Spice Cookie stands just a few feet away from you, arms outstretched as if waiting for a hug, and a colossally smug smile on his face. Stranger still, is what he says next.

“Come here, hit me, show me that fire in your eyes again, little cookie”

By far, the weirdest thing though, is that you listen to him.

Hobbling back to get a better angle, your remaining leg shudders and struggles to carry you any farther. The dagger in your hand the only thing still keeping you grounded, aware that what is happening is real. And Burning Spice simply waits, far more patiently then you ever expected him capable of. The hopelessness of the situation rattles you once again, and it spurs you forward, dagger flying through the air towards your assailant, and you along with it.

The dagger strikes true, piercing through dough with ease as jam leaks out of the wound you’ve caused, wetting your hands as you try to keep your vice grip on the dagger as your good leg has finally given out on you. Putting your whole weight on the comparatively tiny blade.

And he doesn’t even flinch

Burning Spice plucks you by the nape, holding you up in one hand as the other pulls out the dagger. Your hands fall down with it, barely having the strength to keep focus now.

“A well placed strike given your handicap. I think I’ll keep you all to myself.” He brings his hand up to cup your cheek, even after you flinch away, he remains ever gentle, ever patient. A part of you is pretty sure you’re hallucinating from jam loss at this point. That’s the only explanation for this-

“I wonder what that fire in your eyes will become. Will it be smothered-“ Burning Spice is stopped mid sentence as something cuts him just below his eye. He simply cannot help the fondness and pride he feels for you already. His grinning teeth on full display as if revelling in the wounds you’ve caused.

“Yes, I’ve already decided. You will be my favourite little spitfire.” Your head slumps, dagger clattering to the floor as your grievous wound finally catches up to you. And just as gently, Burning Spice carries you to your new home.

-ephemeralcryptid

Y/N Cookie will be a beautiful new addition to the Spice Swarm.

Golden Cheese was only holding them back, keeping them a constant in the tides of Change. Burning Spice can fix that….

And now? She can only watch as Burning Spice leaves with them deeper into his palace, their weak body in his arms.

She wanted to scream….

Run after them…

Demand he comes back to fight her….

Instead…

Between her dough cracking and coughing up strawberry jam…

She cries….

She cries for her precious treasure back….

A treasure that may not be hers anymore…..

[eveningserenityyy]

Home for The Holidays | Oneshot

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x reader

Word Count: 4268

Summary: Upon bringing you back home with him and his family for the holidays, Luke realises that he misses having you all to himself.

A/N: Merry Christmas! Decided to do something for ~slutmas~, and I do hope you enjoy! The editing isn't as heavy with this one, but I really like how it turned out.

Coming home for the holidays is perhaps the best part of college, now able to relax with family and the perfect aesthetic of the christmas season as school is but a small worry in the back of one's mind; meant to be ignored and dealt with at a later time when the tidings end with the 25th.

Luke had brought you home with him to spend this Christmas with his family, all of whom were perfectly amiable and so very welcoming towards you. A response any partner is lucky to receive.

Your friend Han had tagged along too, being Leia’s guest as well. It made for quite the amusing holiday season, for Han was by no means the favourite of the Skywalker patriarch. Anakin, their father, gave him a hard time even for the simple act of breathing; nevertheless, Han made a great effort to impress the man that he hoped would become his father-in-law in the near-ish future.

You got off lucky, more than Han, at least. Anakin was a very protective father, weary of the partners of BOTH his kids. He made that quite clear the first time he had met you, but your advantage was in the fact that you made a far better first impression than Han ever did.

…That particular incident of Han’s misfortunes gets passed around quite a bit, as often as Anakin can mention it at least. No mere words could truly explain the extent to which this first meeting had gone so poorly, for you simply had to be there; all that shall be said is Han offended his mother, broke two chairs, and almost caused the death of the beloved family dog, Artoo, in less than ten minutes.

Furthermore, you found yourself to be having a wonderful time, perfectly fit for the season. Padme was generous with each of you, making sure that you felt welcomed and loved by the family. You baked cookies with her, helped with the tree (the whole family did, really, but you did almost pull a muscle collecting the boxes of ornaments from the basement), and she even took you around town to enjoy the beautiful Christmas lights as you bonded. 

You adored how much she loved both her children, always gushing about her son to you, or showing you terribly embarrassing photos of Luke. Anakin was certainly rough around the edges on the other hand, but you too adored how much he cared about his kids just the same, the only difference being the intensity of it. Yet, despite this you had your moments with the father as well; and at one point had even made him laugh, which is quite the win in your book.

Luke was ecstatic that things, for the most part, were going so great. He absolutely adored and cherished how his family took to you, treating you like one of their own as you fit right in. He hoped many more christmas’ and other such holidays like this were to come, with you by his side each and every time. 

He found himself unable to look away every time you smiled, or laughed at one of his dad’s terrible jokes. He was wholeheartedly in love with you, not at all regretting his bringing you home with him for even one second. This was, in all honesty, the perfect christmas- he had you to thank for making it all the more merry.

He got you under the mistletoe any chance he could, watching your cheeks deepen their rosy tint as you got utterly and completely flustered, especially when a member of his family was close by. 

And when you were helping bake some holiday goods, he always “innocently” made sure to come up from behind you, rubbing against you as he pushed by. At first, it had been a mere accident on his part, but you suspected that it no longer could be when he kept doing it over and over again, leaving you able to feel him growing hard as you put on a poker face. He always came up with little excuses, such as how he forgot a cookie cutter, or needed a glass of water despite the fact that he never actually got one- it made your cheeks ridiculously rosy, constantly blushing every time you felt him against you as his mother asked if you were feeling feverish…

Oh, you were feeling something, but not the kind of feelings you could confide in her about. Ahem. Just imagine what Anakin would think of all the things you wish to do to his son…actually, dont.

He was getting more handsy as the days went by, forgetting that his family is constantly around the corner. He didn't even think about it at times, only driven by the need to touch and hold you close without considering the consequences.

The cons of staying with his family had begun to bother him, never really getting a moment alone with you as of late. As Anakin didn’t like Han, you weren’t even allowed to sleep in the same room- he had to bunk with Han, and you with Leia.

None of you were exactly fond of this, and even Padme fought against it before the horrors of pregnancy and a stagnant college career was planted in her mind. She very much wanted her children to be successful, therefore that was enough to cause her to agree with her husband. 

…okay, there's also the fact that she could understand the uh, the needs her children had…but as long as you’re safe, then for the love of everything keep it out of her house- that was also something she needed to be respected, but would never say when her husband is close by. He just didn't want it. Period. He would rather strangle himself with the tinsel than have such a conversation.

Poor Luke was aching to touch you, missing the privacy you had in a dorm room this past week. He found himself constantly having to hide how hard he was, his pants getting tight every time he even so much as looked at you. It was embarrassing, always sitting with a pillow in his lap when you all huddled together to watch a Christmas classic.

It's just the way he was; easily turned on (By you, specifically- he was head over heels for you, truth be told), and terribly needy for your attention and delicate touch. He had to stop himself from dropping to his knees and begging for you to touch him as he usually would when he got aroused, this not being the time nor the place for that.

You observed how flustered he got himself, how bad he was fighting away the thoughts…and perhaps it was mean, but you couldn’t help but tease him just a little for it. 

It started with brushing a hand against his bulge, or hungrily making out with him in the car before abruptly pulling away as he whined and tried to pull you back into his lap, or kissing his neck in a quiet hallway; which, for the record, you knew quite well would set him off like crazy. Your lips on his throat could have his knees buckling any second, hell- the mere scent of your perfume had him locking himself in a bathroom to stroke the desires away, silencing the noises he couldn’t help but make when he thought of you.

The poor boy was just burning up because of you, so close to fucking you on the family dining table no matter who walked in- okay, i mean…he cared a little about that, but still. Point is that he is so terribly desperate, to the point his brain is heavily fogged and clouded with images of you at all times, images where you adorn the prettiest lingerie as your fingertips trace along his skin, exciting him immensely as he bucks his hips into you…

That's why when he heard the family was going out for some snowmen building competitions, he made damn sure to fool his family into thinking that he was sick, and insisting that you go to the pharmacy and come back whilst his family went without you two.

You genuinely thought he was ill, therefore thought not much of it. Padme was, of course, concerned but relented after Luke argued he didn’t need his mommy to take care of him constantly and that she deserved to go enjoy herself. She laughed, going along with it as she hugged him goodbye.

Han, on the other hand, shot him a look of envy yet said nothing more. He only cared about impressing Anakin, therefore thankfully kept his mouth shut. At this point, there was no room for acting like a little shit- this was, in their horny minds, a time of war. They stood in solidarity with one another.

As soon as you got back and walked through the door, he pounced on you once you’d rid yourself of your winter layers. He pressed you hard against the wall, lips on yours and tongue locked with your own as you let out an involuntary moan at the surprise sensations. The vibrations of your aroused moans were enough to make his erection almost painful.

His grip on you was firm, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt and feeling every inch of your flesh as he so ravenously felt you beneath his finger tips. You were like his perfect little paradise, providing everything he could ever need and love. 

“Luke…luke…” You breathed out, pushing back against him. “You-youre…sick.”

He shook his head, breathing just as heavy as his pupils grew like the grinch’s heart. “I lied, star, I lied, okay? Please, please I need you so bad- will you let me, please?”

Oh, his begging was all you needed to hear. He pleads to have you melted your heart, and you just wanted to wrap him up with a pretty red bow like the cutest christmas present one could ask for. You felt your lips curve into a smile as you nodded, giving him the very answer he desired as you violently tugged you upstairs and to his childhood bedroom. 

He couldn't wait a second longer as he shut the door behind himself, violently slamming shut as he immediately began to unbuckle his belt, letting his pants drop to the floor as he tugged his christmas sweater over his head, messing with the golden brown locks on his head. You loved how he had seemed so pristine one moment with his hair neat and brushed back, to messy and ravenous the very next. 

His hands were on you without you getting a second more to undress yourself, almost ripping your blouse from your body as he then pushed you onto his bed, allowing giggles to slip from between your lips as he tugged the pants off from your legs.

There was so much he wanted to do to you, but so little time, it was almost unfair. He couldn’t spend all the time in the world admiring you as he usually would, needing to be quick with you instead- he loved to kiss every inch of your flesh, playing with your breasts and eating you out for hours before he could even think of being inside of you.

Shivers ran throughout your skin as you gazed at him, watching as his eyes were glossed with love and lust as he looked over you, noticing how your bra and panties matched; a bright red bow on the front of your panties that made him feel like he was about to unwrap the best christmas present ever received by man. He could feel himself throbbing, craving nothing more than to be inside you while you moan for him.

Yet you had other plans, immediately sitting up and tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You couldn’t take the sight of him like this much longer, knowing how bad he needed to be touched. His eyes said it all, and the way his mouth hung open when he looked at you. “Did I do this to you? Oh Luke…let me make it better, hm?”

“Please…” It was as if that was all he could say, all he knew as he begged and begged again. His lips were in a perfect pout, and you would have kissed them if it wasn’t for the idea of placing them somewhere more useful.

He wanted to treat you, but the feeling of you tugging the fabric that felt so tight against his cock broke him completely. He felt like a mess, and he certainly was; but a beautiful one in your eyes. 

In a second his boxers were wrapped around his ankles as your hand came to grip the base of his cock, hard and ready for you as precum leaked from the rosy tip. He was sure he might just cum right there, already letting out a strangled hum of a moan the moment you touched him.

You gave him a few pumps, nice and slow as you felt the pulsing of his veins against your palm, every inch of him begging for more. You thus ran up and along to caress his tip, a whimper falling from his lips as he pouted all over again. He was so sweet, sweet and pretty as he surrendered to you.

“-Need your mouth, oh star…please. It feels so good…” His voice was shaky, needing you more than anything right now. You couldn’t believe the state that had overcome him in only a week of being denied you. 

You adored how he begged for you like this, feeling so wanted and as if you held so much power over him all at once. You could feel the arousal pooling in your panties as you listened to the noises he revealed all because of you.

You licked a stripe up his length before you pressed your lips to the tip, placing a gentle kiss as he shivered under your touch. You couldn’t just let him wait any longer when he needed you so badly, feeling terrible for torturing him in a season so full of love and giving. 

You wrapped your lips around his head, pursing your lips to gently suck the sensitive pink head as he whimpered, fighting off the urge to thrust into your perfect mouth. Your eyes met his own as your lashes framed them so beautifully, and he thought you to appear so delicate as you pleased him like this.

As you took more of him into the velvety warmth of your wet mouth, caressing the length of his cock with your tongue and suctioning your cheeks to suck him off better as you gave a light bop of your head, he was already so very close to drifting off into ecstasy. Every stroke of your tongue had him moaning your name, craving more as his hands slipped into your hair and began to grip either side of your head, carefully guiding you to take him further until tears brimmed your eyes due to his head thrusting against the back of your throat; his mouth hung open as unintelligible noises symphonized from within him, unravelling into a true mess of a man.

He had no time to warn you as the waves of pleasure were released upon him, causing his legs to shake rather violently as he came in your mouth. Fortunately, you already found yourself quite familiar with the telltale signs, having felt the coming of his orgasm as you happily swallowed what he gave you. You took great pride in making him feel so good, such raw pleasure- you enjoyed when he lost himself in it just a little, his grip becoming firmer in time as a desire for more was spoken through moans, knowing it was okay to do so with you.

He was panting as you pulled back, his cock still hard with arousal and need as you looked up at him with the sweetest glossy eyes. You were highly aroused yourself, almost considering grinding into the mattress beneath you as you watched him calm down from the high you’d caused. He thus dropped down next to you at the edge of the bed, looking at you with nothing but love and affection, a hand on your cheek. “I’m- i’m sorry…I didn’t…didn’t mean to do that so soon.”

You placed a hand on his thigh, caressing it as he sighed so heavenly. “Don’t be sorry when you know I like making you feel good too.”

“C’mere…” He murmured, placing his fingers upon your chin as he guided you towards him, pulling you onto his lap as you gave a light gasp at the surprise of it.

He pressed a kiss to your lips that was so sweet and perfectly gentle for the few moments in which it lasted, still breathless as he so suddenly turned the two of you around in order for you to be on your back beneath him and he above you. He grinded himself against your dripping cunt, causing you to moan aloud as his pupils grew again. “Need to be inside you, pretty star…will you let me fuck you?”

The request itself melted you into a little muddle, nodding aggressively to encourage him as a smile tugged at your lips. “I’ve wanted that since we got here.”

You both chuckled, faces pink with lust as he stopped himself from ripping your panties off, instead tracing a finger over the rim in adoration before gently prying them off your legs. It felt like he was unwrapping a perfect present, just as he suspected. He noticed how wet they were, the slick of your arousal dripping from between your thighs as he removed them. 

He lined himself up between your legs, caressing your waist as he did so. He slid his tip through your slit, rubbing up against your cit as you found yourself to be the one whining this time, wanting more of him- needing more.

It wasn’t solely Luke who had been desperate. Both of you had deeply yearned for each other, already quite unable to keep your hands off of each other for more than a day as it is- and even that is impressive.

Neither one of you had time for teasing, that being quite clear as his head penetrated your entrance, causing both of you to moan in unison as he buried himself inside of you after having dreamt of it for what felt like so terribly long. His cock dragged along your walls as he drifted further inside you with ease due to the pool of arousal that he’d been the reason for.

A great fog clouded your mind as he was finally buried as far as he could go, filling you to the brim as he took this moment to relax and catch up to his very much needed breaths. He was so wound up from the past week, so eager to please both you and himself that he forgot he needed to breathe too.

You gripped the toned muscles of his upper arms, keeping him close as you pulled him flush against you. Him now acting almost as a weighted blanket. “Stay like this for a minute for me, if that's okay.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He nodded, pressing a sweet kiss to your neck as you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you, a feeling you had missed. He could barely speak when he was revelling in the feeling of you squeezing his cock.

“I love your family but…maker…it's so hard.” As you confessed, it did not take much time for you to realise how that sounded, beginning to giggle as he did just the same.

“I mean-”

“I know, I know what you mean.” He had the cutest grin on his face as he lifted himself up just enough to press another kiss to the tip of your nose, resting his arm next to your head as he swiped a piece of hair away from your face. “I missed having you all to myself.”

He felt you clench around him as he spoke such words, holding back a grunt as he was reminded of the effect he has on you when he's being so sweet on you. “Then fuck me before they get home, hm?”

That was your signal for him to pry himself off of your chest, of which he did quite swiftly as his hands flew to your waist, holding you down firmly with care. He began to pull out, feeling the warmth of your walls around him as he pushed himself back, starting slow and steady before warming up to more.

Immediately did you throw your head back against the mattress, a muffled moan struggling to sneak past your lips as your brows furrowed together. He never took his eyes off of your face, enjoying how he affected you with just one thrust inside your cunt. You were too deprived to be less affected. 

It's funny how he was supposed to be the needy one, yet here you are, impaled on his cock as desire fills your head.

Although, it does indeed affect him just as much. His previous pleads with you for pleasure are now happily satisfied by more moans of his own as his cock drifts in and out of your pussy, picking up the pace with every thrust he takes each one faster than the last. Soon enough, he finds himself snapping his hips into your own, his thighs beginning to shake as he tries his best not to cum yet; his lips are in a pout as he finds himself whimpering all over again, denying himself to make sure you get to cum before him.

You're writhing beneath him, the head of his cock pounding into you at the perfect angle as his name passes your lips over and over again. You can feel the heat build within you as your walls clench around him, looking up to catch a glimpse of him when your eyes capture him mid moan, his lips quivering and all. 

“C-cum with me, honey…” You bring a hand to his face, pulling him down towards you as you connect with his lips. The kiss is sloppy and open mouthed as he nods, each of you erupting with sounds of pleasure as the floodgates of ecstasy begin to unleash itself.

At once, do your orgasms hit in unison, feeling his cum fill you up in strings as the warmth coats itself inside you. Your lips meet his neck as he lurches upwards on account of his release, still pounding his cock into you until the waves come to a calm halt.

You wrap your arms around him as he collapses over you, panting as one after such a climax. It takes a moment for either one of you to say anything, for you find yourselves content with the comforting silence, your breaths the only thing to be heard at this moment in time.

You love these moments, the intimacy together; whether that be before, after, or during. You like to listen to the change of his breaths, wondering what he may be thinking as he calms himself down from the high each of you were just on. 

And he likes to do just the same, of course. He could never have this with anyone else, nothing so special as what he has with you, and those breaths of which stem from a session of love making remind him of how absolutely lucky he is to have found you.

Finally, when you do eventually speak, it's to make a joke as your hot breath hits his flesh. “One hell of a christmas present.”

He snorts, feeling his lips curve against the flesh of your neck as you say it. He only then stands up, pulling out of you as his release leaks out of you and onto the fabric of the bed. With that, he pulls you up and into his arms and onto your feet before him, holding your chin with his fingertips. “You’re already mine.”

You blush, shaking your head as you attempt to hide in his chest. Of course, only Luke could make things romantic when you have his cum dripping down your legs. 

You thus chuckle a moment later, finding peace in a moment such as this once again, despite the fact that your legs may give out any second now. You pull yourself back to look at him, taking his hands in your own as you press a gentle and warm kiss to his knuckles. “I love you, Luke. Your family, just…everything.”

“I love you too.” He says back, your words remaining in the back of his mind as he pictures you as a permanent member to the Skywalker clan. “Now come on, we should get cleaned up before my parents come back- i’ll never hear the end of it if they, you know…”

You hold back from commenting on how such a sight would cause Anakin to replace all the presents with coal, knowing it would cause Luke to cringe at the very thought. 

Once each of you are showered and dressed, now safely wrapped within blankets in each other's arms with hot cocoa and a steady fire, you truly do think it to be one of the best christmas’ you've ever had.

You kiss his cheek, causing him to erupt with butterflies in the same way he did when you each had your first kiss. “Merry Christmas, Luke.”

“Merry Christmas, starlight.”

[shaunamilfman]

Vampire!Jackie Drabble

Summary: "You meet Jackie for the first time as she's unsuccessfully trying to blot out a suspicious red stain with a napkin."

A/N: girlfailure vampire Jackie who can't hunt. 🥰

nsfw mention

You meet Jackie Taylor for the first time as she frets over the state of her shirt in the bathroom. She's unsuccessfully trying to blot out a suspicious red stain with a napkin. You looked curiously at her after you finished washing your hands and asked, "What's wrong?". She glanced up, the frustration evident on her face. 

"Oh, I just got some red wine all over my shirt." She lied unconvincingly. You hesitated for a moment because you definitely thought it was blood, but it was midterms and you were delirious enough from lack of sleep that you decided not to question it. 

You shrugged your bag off of one shoulder to riffle through the pockets. She watched you curiously as you reached into your bag and gingerly handed her a tide pen. Her face lights up as she starts immediately blotting at the stain. "Thanks!" She said cheerfully, and you waved her off as you left the bathroom.

… 

It's a few days later as you're working the night shift at a coffee shop. You weren't sure what the point of a 24/7 coffee shop was, but it pays the bills and doesn't overlap with classes. You're bent down fiddling with a bag of coffee beans trying to look busy when you hear the soft sounds of someone clearing their throat. You reluctantly stand up and look towards the counter when you see her again. 

You eye her curiously as you almost never actually get customers beyond your regulars this late. Her face lights up as she sees you and you can't quite quell the way you smile in response. She excitedly holds up one finger as she starts rummaging through her purse. She pulls out your tide pen and you tentatively lay out a hand for it. 

"You could have kept it." You say honestly, "I have more. I wasn't looking for it." She grins softly at you. 

"I could've?" She asks. She raises her hand back up. "Give it back then." She says teasingly. You shake your head playfully as you drop it in your apron pocket.

"Nope," You say. "It's mine now." She scoffs but the smile doesn't leave her face. 

… 

She shows up regularly after that to talk to you. There's rarely more than three people in here at a time this late: it's why you chose this shift in the first place, as it gave you plenty of time to catch up on assignments behind the counter. 

That's why you're pretty surprised when you realize that you aren't all that upset about her monopolizing your time. There's something about her that's so magnetizing. You spend more time thinking about her than you're comfortable admitting. She's even started to invade your dreams. 

You keep dreaming of her smile. You figure she must be self conscious of it because she's started to cover her mouth with her hand sometimes when she starts to laugh. You aren't sure what changed, but you desperately wish she wouldn't. You wonder if her teeth would feel as sharp as they looked. 

You're starting to get pretty worried about her, actually. She's been acting weirder in other ways as well. Every time she comes in she looks a little paler, a little weaker. You're worried enough that you start offering her food on the house, which you've never done for anyone before. She would just shake her head fondly and start talking about one of her classes.

One night you get the courage to ask her if you can kiss her. Her face lights up and she leans forward to kiss you. You can’t help but notice how sharp some of her teeth are, but you get distracted too quickly to think much of it.

… 

It's been a few days since the last time she came in, and you're admittedly very worried about her. You keep hanging around the building you initially met her in, but it must have been a one off because you never seem to run into her. 

You're walking home after your shift when you hear the clang of a trash can lid but the ground. You look over and can't help but scoff as you see her seemingly making out with some girl in an alleyway. This is what she was so busy with? You think angrily. Your righteous indignation fades away quickly when you hear her curse as she pulls away. 

"Damn it." She complains, "Not again." You watch with wide eyes at the blood spurting out from the other girl's neck soaks Jackie. You can see the streetlight glinting off of her… Teeth? Fangs? You wonder. 

Jackie stands there pouting, covered in blood looking like a wet dog. She crosses her arms moodily staring at the corpse on the ground as she makes an annoyed whining noise. 

You almost trip as you start hurriedly stepping backwards. She looks up and finally seems to realize you're there. She steps towards you but stops at your look of terror. She gives you a desperate look as she tries to explain but you take off running down the street to your apartment. 

… 

You're standing in the middle of your room trying to calm yourself down, which isn't helped by the loud knocks from your balcony door. You look over to see her unmistakable figure silhouetted against the curtain. “Let me in Y/N. I can explain.” She says. You laugh wryly. 

"You never wanted to be my friend! You were just trying to eat me!" You accuse. She scoffs, looking offended. 

"Just because I'm a vampire that means I had to be trying to eat you? That's speciesist." She says indignantly. 

"Speciesist." You repeat slowly in disbelief. 

"Yep," She confirms. "That's what I said." Nope. You think, and lay on your bed to go to sleep.

You groan as you hold your pillow tighter over your ears. “I know you can hear me!” She whines from your balcony. She’s been pleading with you for hours to invite her into your apartment to talk about it. 

Your initial fear from finding out she’s a vampire has long since faded the longer she begged as it reminded you how absolutely pitiful she could be. You have found, however, that your jealousy still hasn't faded in the slightest. Perhaps it was a little ridiculous, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous that she would bite someone else when she could have asked you.

You finally get out of bed and throw the balcony door open. She stands just outside the doorway watching you carefully. “Why her?” You ask sharply. She sends you a curious look. 

"Who?" She asks. 

"The girl. In the alleyway." You say slowly. She shrugs. 

"I don't know her name. She was just there." She says. "I'm not very good at hunting." She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “It gets messy when they fight, as you've probably guessed." She gestures vaguely at all of her. 

She sighs loudly and looks embarrassed as she admits, "I usually pay someone to let me feed from them but she went abroad this semester."

You soften slightly and ask teasingly, "Is that why you looked like shit recently?" She looks offended but ultimately nods.

You stare at her for a few moments out of sheer disbelief before surging forward to kiss her in the doorway. She reciprocates happily, you can feel the corners of her mouth lifting in a grin. You make her promise not to drink from anyone else before you’ll invite her in.

… 

"And you're not going to bite too hard?" You ask pointedly. She sighs dramatically and holds out her pinky. You reach up to link your pinkies together. 

"One time and you never get over it." She whines. You scoff. 

"I looked like I got mauled by a bear." You retort. She preens at the perceived compliment and you roll your eyes. "Yeah, you're a mighty hunter, I get it." You tease. She maturely chooses to stick her tongue out at you. 

You laugh quietly, gathering her hair into your hand and wrapping it around your first. "Okay, Baby." You say, leading her towards your neck. She lunges forward the second the words leave your mouth, but groans painfully as she tugs hard on her own hair. 

She looks pitiful as you give her a warning glance. She avoids your eyes as she stares hungrily at your neck. "Last chance," You say. She nods and chooses not to fight against your grip this time as you lead her head towards your neck once again. 

She releases a pleased sounding whine the second her teeth slip into your neck. You rut down hard against her lap out of instinct and Jackie's hands move up to rest lightly on your hips, pulling you gently against her.

You can feel the way the cords of muscle flex beneath her skin like steel wires. Jackie's the most powerful being you've ever met. And you’ve got her wrapped around your finger.

[calixcem]

Some post Tsc thoughts! spoilers under the cut :)

I have so many annotations in this book. (668 to be exact), so im just grazing the surface of everything with this one sooo part 1 perhaps?

-Kevin and jean. Jeans unrequited crush on kevin. I need to know more about this and I hope Nora delves into the semantics in the next book.

-Also how this relates to Kevin day famously saying it was easier to be straight. I figured this was a common thought among the ravens or at least Riko’s court,but Jean doesn't mention it once throughout the entire book. He brings up his attraction towards men multiple times ,and there was never any denying it. It was just something he accepted, so how did Kevin get the idea that it was easier to be straight and Jean didn't? Did Jean ever think this way and eventually changed it down the line or what?

-Im a sucker for found family and Nora really delivered with this one. Laila,Cat, and Jeremy are making it known to Jean that they’ll always be there and genuinely want to help him. The dynamic between all of them is so tender and I think it’ll be so healing for Jean. 

-Also I hope we see more of the floozy squad in the next book! 

-I need them to convince Jean to try boba at some point, and i really hope his relationship with food gets better. I really love that he’s cooking with cat and I really hope it develops into one of his hobbies outside of Exy. Let this boy live a little!

-speaking of hobbies: Cat teaching Jean how to ride a motorcycle?? I just feel like it would be beneficial(not to Jeremy’s heart but thats ok) 

-This specific moment with cat and jean 

she ran down to the tide to rinse it off with childish glee. Jean obediently inspected it when she brought it back, and she tucked it into his breast pocket with a cheerful “For you!”

Small things like this just really show how much they care about him.

- What’s up with Jeremy's family?? I really want to know what happened to where Jeremy “tore them apart” like what was the scandal his freshman year??? It was mentioned briefly but then Jeremy just decided it wasn't worth mentioning again considering all that was going on? The biggest “im fine” in history fr. Also when Cat is telling Jean about everyone’s siblings she mentions how when you go over 4 kids there's bound to be one asshole, but she only listed 4. So did one of his siblings die?? I might be reading too far into this but! Or it could be that one of them cut off all ties to the family after something happened? I don't know but I’m excited to read more about it in the next book!

Jeremy has—three. One sister, two brothers. The older brother’s an absolute tool, but there’s bound to be a jerk or two once you pass four kids.” Jean idly wondered what she’d changed at the last minute and why,

- The constant touches everyone gives Jean to ground him and make him feel loved just makes me so happy. 

- also jean constantly touching jeremy’s chin to get his attention??? Hello? 

A hand on his chin startled him into looking up. When he met Jean’s eyes, Jean only said, “Focus on what’s important.” “I am,” Jeremy said. Jean opened his mouth, closed it again, and let go of Jeremy without a word. Jeremy snagged his arm when he started to turn away. “Who did this to you?”

This line in particular really hit me.

-just jerejean in general honestly. The way Jeremy genuinely cares about him and wanting to help him heal 

You are going to be my success story: Jean Moreau the person, not Jean Moreau of the perfect Court.

“Will you help me?” he asked. “Anything you need.” “A blank check is a dangerous thing to offer.” “Try me,” Jeremy said. “I can afford it.”

-neil. Bro was just being a menace and seeing him from an outsiders pov makes me realize just how unhinged he seems to everyone. But him ordering that hit on Grayson without a second thought? Iconic. As everyone else is saying he dropped by to serve cunt and then left. 

-Jean dropping the most poetic line about Neil and Andrew’s relationship and then just not thinking about it ever again is so wild lmao.

Jean noticed how Andrew and Neil moved like they were caught in each other’s gravity, in each other’s space more than they were out of it, cigarette smoke and matching armbands and lingering looks when one fell out of orbit for too long.

-The parallels between Jean and Neil and how they dealt with things. I don't know if you can really call some of them parallels but they are connected in my head bro. 

-JEANS SISTER. Oh this shit hurts from the faint memory we get to the end when we find out that she's dead??? Nora you're paying for my therapy oh my god. And when Jean is mourning her the snippet of the memory of stitching up her dress that she’d get caught in the blackberry bushes???? He genuinely loved her and just when he’d be getting to a point to where he’d feel safe enough to try to get in contact with her again to find out his parents sold her off and she died because of it???? Yeah bitch burn your family to the ground. I hope we get more memories with her in them. 

[daughterearth]

Directions to the Devi - The great Goddess

All the above answers are valid and deeply respected. Also, they may change with time like they did for me.

We can always hold space for something greater than a simple answer.

I'm writing this post in conversation with @spilledpoetries 's post and all thanks to @rhysaka's wonderful initiative to form this small well knit community.

Before that my humble agrah- I'm nobody to define or even limit the goddess through my words. This is not an academic discussion or an exploration of philosophies. It is simply my love for her that I wish to show what I can for others to find.

Q.Devi's association with Tantra.

For one moment really take her in - Her imposing, defying posture, her bareness, her dynamism --- she presents a contrast to all demure presentation of goddesses we see.

She's provocative, angry, ready to strike- her hair flying, blood smeared across her body and through the corpse's bleeding neck. She's terrifying and triumphant. She's the image of death and destruction and fear. And she's lavishing in it.

Through thousands of years of foreign oppression, of internal conflicts, of being second class citizenship of girls and women, of imposition of pardah and forced inferiority - SHE STANDS HERE STILL with contrasts.

What makes her so enduring and so striking to your imagination?

Tantra is another form of rigorous study. On the fringes of society - marred with elements we don't commonly consider forms of divination or worship it has survived eons. But it breaks the boundary of what is worthy of devotion, of ego and for us, its metaphysical elements presently would suffice.

''If you feel drawn to Devi in any form right now, it marks a call to war, your innate knowing - a yearning that cannot be sublimated, an uprising of your consciousness.''

You are being called to transcend what is beyond black and white.

Evaluate yourself -

Do you feel called to what you cannot yet explain? An incompleteness in every joy and sadness?

Are there areas in your life that trigger you deeply? Including your relationships, your sexual nature, your anger or repulsion, your path in life?

Is there a deep resounding need for belonging, of feeling like an outsider, a lone wolf or pushing against tides? As difficulties seem to corner you into a dead end.

If any of these strike in for you, Devi is the answer you are looking for. When the student is ready, the teacher appears.

This is a list of elemental inquiries I wish to share with you -

each is as deep as you wish to seek, each as shallow as words can convey. Take what speaks to you and let the rest be an offering.

###

When you stand in front of her in full honesty, observe without shame- your own nakedness, your own body, to every abysmal change in life - how malleable and how human we are to every pain and joy. How minute and how magnificent. This blessing of pain, of being a sinner and a saint, of deep longing and half refusals Then, lay them infront of her simply - like a child puts her doll infront of her mother - ravaged by years of playing. Let her speak to you in the stillness of your complete surrender and acceptance. She is bigger than every emotion or thought you have. More powerful.

###

If there are very strong emotions regarding some situation in your life, some previous hurt or destruction you are hurt by - Devi stands to point towards its metabolism.

Every bad things that has ever happened in your life- has peeled off a layer of your egoic attachment, it has loosened the shackles that tie you to a way of life you must transcend to something greater.

All this to say, clears the dust of the mirror of your heart to shine the presence of her within you. Her invincible presence, her radiance, her spirit. When everything is lost, something bigger than us, remains. That is what defines your true nature. And that is the beginning of your possibility. Devi represents that non-duality of being.

###

In a forest when a she-wolf births her children, she doesn't teach them how to hunt or hides her from the world. She teaches them what to look for and beware of - activating a latent energy, a latent knowledge. Devi is a concentrated form of that dynamism.

The red associated with her -- some say it is menstrual blood is the deep red of life and sacrifice. Every endeavour in your life - be it university exams or emotional toques and tensions - everything needs a vision. But the problem arises when there is no life forthcoming from it all. It's like dancing to a tune there is no end to.

She represents the end. When the woman attuned to Devi, she understands the pauses, the reflection, the stopping.

Devi's devotee picks an endeavour, not to prove, or be something but for the versity, the joy of the work, the growth, the ability to say yes to difficulty and knowing she has a force greater than her own delineated abilities - she summons a life by her own name.

This is Devi's grace.

She is a river flowing through you, her wild nature pours out endless possibilities, acts as birth channel, invigorates.

She's a calling to your own wild nature otherwise you wouldn't be so attracted to her halo.

She's a reflection of what it means to be, and wholly bloom and in time disintegrate and rise again to our own calling. And I believe it is time for you to undertake this journey.

Author's note: Please allow me to ask forgiveness for any wrongs in this passage, they are wholly mine. Thank you for your time These words are all I have to offer. I can pray for more guidance for all of us, and more radiance of hers to show us the way. I would love to know if there is anything more I could do.

Till then, with much respect and love, thank you.

~ Namaste ~

[sepublic]

Anyhow, I want people to understand the significance of me crying over TOH ending because. I generally do not cry. It’s hard for me to cry, I feel sadness and grief sure! But tears themselves are difficult. And as much as I love media, it’s very rare and hard for it to make me genuinely cry. Other cartoons and shows I’ve gotten into haven’t done it, but...

The Owl House genuinely made me cry. After the grief of Agony of a Witch, the lonely despair of King’s Tide, and so many other painful moments. The Owl House finally made me sob, genuinely, wails I had to cover up, hot tears, sore eyes and a dripping nose. I heaved and made myself cry even more, because goddamn is there such a relief in the catharsis of feeling this pain, and knowing it means you’ve felt something, you’ve felt happiness to begin with.

So yeah. The Owl House has always been pretty special to me. But I think this expression of how I felt was low key what I was waiting for, working towards, after the finale. The absence hurts, but it makes me appreciate all the more the presence it entails for TOH in my life. For the community, for the experiences, the analyses, the genuine fun and laughter and speculation! The hype and friends I’ve made along the way, me building up my own skills as a reader thanks to this show!

I remember being enamored by The Owl House’s first announcement in February 2018, the first ever, possible public reveal of that show; You could’ve only known it beforehand if you worked at Disney and/or were one of Dana’s friends. Something about Luz, about Eda, about King... The very premise itself, the magic. Something about this show felt special to me, I had a really good feeling about it I couldn’t explain.

I ended up checking Dana’s Twitter obsessively for updates, was excited when she posted this one art of Luz and King having an ice cream run, while Eda was displeased with a little demon trying to get her dessert. I expected mostly casual things, but something about the vibes, the magic and wonder experienced through the lens of Luz... It got to me in a legitimately depressive state of my life.

Because I was depressed. Suicidal, even. It was perhaps the worst phase of my life ever, and I hope it’ll stay that way. The beginning of 2018 felt like me finally getting over the big hurdle, that enormous halfway point at the top, and how it was all relatively smooth, downhill sailing from here. So it feels fitting that it was the beginning of the easier part that TOH was announced for me. All I knew were Luz, Eda, and King; I eventually gave up checking Dana’s accounts for art, because I was SO excited and impatient for this show, inexplicably.

That’s probably why I missed Dana’s little sneak peek of Amity Blight, haha... But anyhow, TOH gave me something to look forward to. Something to live for. And when I finally got a shot of Eda throwing treats to Luz and King, the former taken aback by the eyeball, the latter having it bounce off his skull. It didn’t make it to the final cut obviously, but it was my first glimpse of how the show itself would look.

I was in despair when The Owl House was delayed to 2020; I had to wait another whole year for it! And going from 2018 to 2019 was painful enough as is! But man... Was it worth it. The first teaser, the mystery and wonder it promised. My Bionicle brain freaking out over the reveal of the Boiling Isles as a giant corpse. 

And then the theme song. Me learning Luz’s VA, scouring very obscure media to get an idea of how she might sound like. And finally I heard it, we got other announcements; Eda by Wendie Malick, who made perfect sense, and King by Alex Hirsch, cue those obnoxious Bill Cipher theories I still hate to this day! 

Some crew members announced cupcakes they made, complete with banners like “Drinkers Coven” and I got hyped for this little content. I wanted to try cashew meringues because of it, and later recognized the repurposed frames of Luz, Eda, and King in actual episodes. I saw some concept art and expressions removed from the show, and was glad to recognize them later, as I did a frame-in-process of Luz wondering about her magical destiny.

I checked Tumblr but it seemed like I was the only person actively anticipating, and not just including TOH as part of a larger collection of media posts. I wanted TOH for itself, someone was curious if it had owls, I scoured the first teaser for a screenshot to satisfy them! I wanted more people in on it! I saw some clips, figured out Luz’s ethnicity from her squealing “Ay que lindo!” in response to King.

I made a few ancient posts, my first TOH post was me admitting I was excited and wondering if anyone else was. It got NO traction, at least not until much, much later... But that didn’t stop me! I had a dream where Luz was revealed to be disabled, her legs were prosthetics and Eda ended up giving her new magic prosthetics styled after owl feet. This would prove weirdly prophetic... Less so, my dream about Luz being the Anti-Christ (this was framed as a good thing), hence why she found the isles.

I speculated Luz was an orphan who had nobody, hence why she found the isles; But then an article mentioned her mother Camila. I went with that spelling until some end credits confused me with a typo that gave us Camilia, which led to a big fandom debate later until Dana clarified.

I analyzed the trailers, trying to figure out the plot and trajectory, wasn’t quite right there. I was happy to see TOH would have full 22-minute episodes, allowing them to get nitty gritty and elaborated, instead of truncated into 11-minute segments. Boy did that pay off, and looking back I can appreciate what a rarity that was, an achievement. People pointed out the anagram for me... 

I speculated on the titles, confused bits from Covention with scenes from the first episode, wondered if Escape of the Palisman referred to the tower. And in the end, the first episode finally came out, after I was enjoying Infinity Train Book 2, and I was enamored. It was wonderful, it utterly blew me away and was all I wanted and more. I had to get more! The moment Luz spoke of liking editing anime clips into AMVs and all that other stuff, I felt seen, and that was just the beginning.

I spoke my praises, but alas there was no fandom. The next week, I was surprised to find posts for the next episodes so early, and learned the episode was released ahead of time on DisneyNOW, so I immediately subscribed. I was excited to meet Amity Blight, Willow and Gus; And I was caught by surprise by how openly mean Amity was when she debuted! But I analyzed the sub-text of her actions and dialogue, and was vindicated. 

Amity was such a fun and interesting character because she really felt like a puzzle that we unlocked more and more pieces of, to better understand her. And I really got the sense of TOH’s re-contextualization and surprising character continuity, such as when King’s B-plot in one episode actually became the focus of the very next! You could tell the writers really cared about making a deeper story for kids and teenagers. 

One nice memory was when I wrote a post appreciating Willow and Luz’s friendship, the idea of Willuz as a ship; I took a shower and went back to check afterwards, and got notes! I analyzed the mechanics of glyphs deeply when they were first revealed, getting nitty-gritty; I remember the events of a few nights and what happened around me writing a post, comparing glyph magic to artificial replication of dragon breath!

I looked for crew art, which alerted me ahead of time to the existence of Emira and Edric, thought I didn’t know their names, and was delighted to learn Amity had older siblings!!! They were hers! Shoutout to @anistarrose who was one of the few people in the tag at this time. I really appreciate that post where you called out people constantly trying to make King into Bill Cipher in a serious manner, and the annoying implications of it. And how you realized a tweet poem by Dana foreshadowed Warden Wrath and the Emperor’s Coven... AND THE CODES TOO!!!

I distinctly remember this one meme video in the tags, a song singing “This girl is a lesbian” as Amity showed up as the punchline. I thought it was cute and loved the idea, I had no clue...! I even tried to analyze the dates on her diary entries because I was so obsessed with the show and wanted more, trying to see if I could figure out a calendar...

Spoiler alert, I didn’t. but it was FUN trying! Putting in all of this unnecessary effort for a detail nobody cared much for, because you could tell the crew were people who did the same, Dana even confirmed it later for herself! I remember being shocked about Eda having a curse, that one theory it was a Blight who did it. I suggested King being the Boiling Isles Titan, some Youtube channel even asked permission to use my post in discussing that theory! I was skeptical but checked and it was legit, and was pleased.

I went through that godforsaken Witch’s Apprentice game, realized too late the artifacts represented each episode and gave hints to the rest of 1A. I watched Look Hoo’s Talking, with Owlyvia and Horus, shout out to those who remember! I was amazed by Eda’s self-awareness in deciding things for Luz, especially after Luz briefly called it out in Covention. I found myself so ATTACHED to the characters, which makes sense since I hyped myself from the start!

I remember being surprised to see King wasn’t an overlord... Or was he? The original 2018 announcement suggested as such, but the way the show played around even after the premiere seemingly disproved it was fun. I speculated on what Luz’s magic track would be, enjoyed fanart of her in Potions as Eda was. Seeing Young Eda was a blast, and I remember being so distraught at the idea of her being cursed! I made a post wailing about it and Cat-Harman Mitchell commented LOL as I ranted about taking vengeance on the curser. Little did I know...!

I was afraid of a cliffhanger with Season 1A, but nope! Eda made it out despite the demon hunters! With a hiatus, I was left impatient and needing more. I scoured crew art, speculated on what Emperor Bellows would be like; Covention’s subtitles mispelled him as such, and Dana had to clarify in a tweet when 1B’s trailer released! I got into deep discussion with @fermented-writers-block about the show, about the mysterious owl mural.

I guess TOH was my first start at really analyzing a show from the start, especially since nobody else was around to do it for me. And coming fresh from reading the meta of those who did inspire me, I went HARD, reasoning that even if it was disproven, the process was fun! I analyzed snake motifs, the mysterious green hand that stole King’s crown. I made a whole diagram about parallels between Luz, between King and the Gildersnake, between ‘human counterparts’ to Amity and Willow and Gus. This definitely fed the revelation of Creepy Luz later on...

But yeah. To think the snakes did pay off with Luz’s palisman Stringbean; Back then people speculated as such with the title’s design, and I’m so happy to see it came through! I speculated on lore, wrote my first TOH fics, The Bile Coven and Amity’s Diary Entries, the latter of which I feel particular pride for since it was a character study of her that proved rather on the spot!

I was obsessed with the worldbuilding, came up with my own ideas. Imagined what Bellows and Kikimora were like. I waited IMPATIENTLY, and even had a dream where Eda was captured by Lilith, Kikimora, and Wrath, as well as some covenscouts... But then it was revealed her curse was a result of possession by the creature depicted on the mural; And it progressed to the next stage of converting her body to its own as she got more feral and escaped on her own!

The airship used by the Emperor’s Coven proved prophetic. And after 1B seemingly disproved this idea, 2A brought it back after all and I was delighted! TOH was and is a show that keeps giving for me, makes me feel rewarded for engaging with it, and is grateful even when I’m wrong, as Any Sport in a Storm’s B-plot attests. I made jokes about King being Mata Nui because I was a Bionicle fan. Someone saw a Grom poster in the background of a shot and suggested Lumity, but I didn’t get my hopes up... Hah.

There was a trailer that alluded to an episode of Luz and Eda in a snowy place; I knew of an article on TOH that mentioned a ‘Witch’s Arena’ at the Knee and guessed this was it. I liked the song that played because I associated it with TOH, found out for myself.

Rebecca Rose, shout out to one of the OGs talking about the show on Youtube! She made a wonderful video discussing Amity’s development and potential, speculating on her, and I felt SOOOO vindicated and followed her for it! As you know, she became THE fan channel for TOH, and was eventually ascended to a full-on crew member for it. We’d all watch her reactions and discussions afterwards.

Adventures in the Elements leaked, I correctly guessed it wasn’t the next episode but the one after it. I was delighted to see the twins be good siblings, and Amity’s casual outfit... Before that, I read a fic during the hiatus of Lilith adopting Amity from abuse (Remember when we thought she was that functional?), and it understandably depicted the twins as mean-spirited and basically apathetic. It was a good fic.

I remember joke-speculating that Bellows would be short, because I was projecting analyses of the Pale King from Hollow Knight onto him! I considered making an animatic of Farquaad’s reveal from Shrek but with Bellows, but alas I’d never actually done an animatic and had zero clue lol. I had another dream about Bellows coming in with the Emperor’s Coven to apprehend Eda, who became an even larger version of her Owl Beast form in response.

Then Summer 2020 came around. What a wonderful time of my life... New fans came in when they saw the possibility of canon sapphics with Lumity, and I was exhilarated! So careful not to get my hopes up, but look now... I was hyped to see Belos’ appearance. I analyzed the 1B trailer, took screenshots and organized them to guess which episodes they were. Rebecca Rose found foreign titles of 1B and translated them, and I did note how translations could skew the intended anagram. I remember “Mini-Problems” being an episode title...

You can probably guess the rest from here, since this was about when the fandom really kicked off. And boy did people stick around for it all. I felt delight in knowing Grom was sooner, due to Understanding Willow being paired with Really Small Problems on the same day! Two episodes at once, instead of the original plan for the last two episodes of the season together! I ended up regretting that low-key with the angst and pain of Agony of a Witch, which made me realize how much I cared for Luz, Eda, and King, and made me the closest to crying from the show.

I felt vindicated to see a popular artist like MoringMark begin making fan comics, I had no idea that’d be THE thing he’d be known for, after I knew him as the Gravity Falls guy. I followed Matthieu Cousin on Tumblr, got excited for that trend of dressing up TOH characters for Grom and sending in your designs, with a winner announced! I don’t think that ever happened. Anamanaguchi’s Prom Night became a thing thanks to a crew member, and who can forget Little Miss Perfect? Kwame rolled with the success and I was glad for him. Eda’s gray eye appearing after the season finale in the end credits shocked me.

There was the Reddit AMA, where I prepared lore questions afterwards and had none of mine answered, but we learned a good deal! Especially the telling “Clawthornes are a bird motif” from Dana, her being put into a headlock by a nun. Amity and Lilith weren’t close but as I mentioned a while back, Dana expressed that she also made connections with cartoons as a kid. Odalia liking her kids color-coded, hence Amity’s hair, and Alador being interesting. Which led to a bunch of fanart that proved off the mark but also not? Alador wasn’t THAT well-put but otherwise...

And that stream! That wonderful stream! I contemplated spending so much money via donation to get something. Eda drinking Apple Blood, Spencer Wan almost spoiling Lilith having a Raven form. Our first sneak peek at Hunter’s face, not counting his appearance as the Golden Guard in S1; We all guessed he and the Golden Guard, or “Owl Mask” were the same. I was stumped and baffled how he fit into Belos’ dynamic... Hoo boy. And we all thought Hunter was an adult, even Alador at first, because of those eye bags!

I wanted to see the coven heads, based on their banners we saw; I liked the Potion Head especially and even when his design proved different than I expected, it was still my favorite! I thought Darius might be a Blight grandfather and he DID have a connection... I had a dream of the twins working for Osran at a library and messing with him, recognized Mason from Covention, and dreamed Terra was named Botanica.

Christmas art of the cast came out, I was happy to see Emira and Edric happy there, after being saddened by Dana’s Grom art of them and even writing a whole fic about it, which I’m chuffed about! She also drew Mattholomule... I recall in the wait for Season 1B, she did some art of the characters. Gus playing games, Mattholomule losing to him; King despairing over stubby thumbs.

Fanart of the kids in quarantine, Amity declaring it’d be easy to stay away from Luz, to Luz’s sadness; Boscha being mad because she couldn’t talk to her friends. Remember when Boschlow was a big thing, until Understanding Willow killed off some of the hype? And confirmation that Willow worked out, which we saw come to fruition in Season 2; People were surprised but I wasn’t! And of course, Frewin being his own entity from Bump, and not Bump himself.

But back to chronology, I guess this is where I should end off. Sorry, this ended up being MUCH longer than I intended, and really you could write a book about my experience with TOH and the journey on a meta level. But those were interesting times, those beginning eras. Back when I didn’t feel the need to always add screenshots to posts unless necessary. And it’s making me nostalgic. It’s making me appreciate everything we’ve been through, the roots of my hyperfixation. And how it all led to me finally crying, because I really did build up THAT much of a love for the show.

I found my first fandom I really felt a part of, found so many people who enjoyed my meta and validated me for it! I feel I’ve grown so much as a person because of TOH. And as I nostalgically reminisce on how different the show was then, I appreciate all the more how far we’ve come, and what it is now. Snapping back to the present does make me sad over how much has passed and changed, but I also appreciate it while remembering the ideas I once had.

I’ll miss that era, and TOH as a whole. And boy do I associate that classic ending theme, how I loved the melancholy of those end credits, speculated on them paying off in the finale. And they did...! It feels good to hear it one last time after a year without it, due to the end credits being removed or redone. There was something so idyllic and dreamlike about that original sequence, capturing the feeling of coming home, and I’m glad TOH did that once more with it.

[pengychan]

[Baldur’s Gate III] A Deal in Three Acts: Act III

Title: A Deal in Three Acts Summary: Weeks since Raphael took temporary residence at Sharess’ Caress, Haarlep is bored. Still waiting for Tav to take him up on his offer, Raphael is frustrated. Tav chooses an interesting evening to show up with a counter-offer. Characters: Raphael, Haarlep, Tav. Rating: Explicit Status: Complete

Act I here Also on AO3

*** Sometimes the best reason to take a throne is finding out what getting railed on it feels like. ***

When Raphael awoke some time before sunrise, he found himself briefly wondering if the little mouse had undergone ceremorphosis while they slept, as she seemed to be holding onto him with entirely too many limbs.

But the skin against him was dry, smelling vaguely of leather and beeswax. A relief, that. Of all the experiences he may be open to, being enveloped in the tentacles of a mindflayer who may or may not make a meal out of his brain was not among them. The drawbacks of that night’s highly unusual negotiations would give him enough of a headache as things were.

He could not simply take back what he’d agreed to; loath as he was to admit it, the Illithid was a viable enough backup plan and the little mouse was insane enough to resort to it. He’d have to see it through, put it all in writing. And then, once the Crown was in his hands and Baator was at his feet… then he could set to work convincing her to revise the contract.

He may have been out-bargained now, but he’d turn the tide soon enough. He always did; patience was all he needed. No mortal had ever scored more than a temporary victory against him, which only made them lose all caution. It made the defeat that followed all the more bitter. And perhaps she wouldn’t even mind being bested in the long run.

I won’t leave until I see you sit on Asmodeus’ throne, she’d said, but surely she could be convinced to remain after that. She could see him rule the Hells, and understand he could do more, aim for greater things yet. If she wanted those she cared for safe, she only had to say so. It would only be a matter of time, and oh, he had time in abundance.

Raphael held back a smile, opened his eyes, and lifted himself up on an elbow. The little mouse shifted, but did not wake up. Her eyes - the one truly beautiful thing about her and so delightfully infernal, red pupils against black sclera - stayed shut. Somewhere in the next room he could hear the sound of water splashing, Haarlep’s faint humming as they took their time washing up. They’d had absolutely no hesitation to set him up for failure last night, and he ought to flay him for that. He probably would, but later.

For now, he had some damage control to do. Not the kind of damage control he usually did, but not the most unpleasant either.

Raphael lifted a hand to brush back her hair, a rich black but very obviously chopped off with a sharp dagger while sitting at a campfire. Something equally sharp must have cut into her cheek at some point, leaving a raised pink scar on livid skin. He wondered if it had happened in battle, or if it had been the result of a burst of uncontrolled magic turning on her.

Of all the types of magic sorcerers wielded, wild magic had always seemed the most inconvenient. It was unpredictable, and chaotic; the opposite of everything he believed power should be. How it served her well enough to carry her and her companions that far was a mystery to him. But then again, it suited her. She was nothing if not annoyingly unpredictable.

Just as Raphael pulled away his hand there was a groan, and her eyelids fluttered. “Misza…?” she mumbled. Raphael had never heard that name, but made a mental note to try and find out more as her eyes blinked open and finally focused on him. “All right,” she muttered, and yawned. Rather than covering her mouth, she pressed it against his shoulder before pulling back again.  “Well. There are way worse sights to wake up to.”

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “Has anyone ever told you flattery is not your strongest suit?”

“I’ve been told I’m shit at complimenting people. That’s what you’re saying, yes? Just more elegantly.”

“... It is indeed.”

A quirk of her lips, and pulled back the arm that had been looped around his side so that she could reach up and brush back his hair. “You’re not a vampire though, are you? I don’t see fangs,” she added. Raphael wondered, faintly, if the tadpole in her head may have started to feed on her brain matter after all.

“I am not certain I’m following your line of thought, little mouse.”

“You can use a mirror.” She still sounded sleepy, and her hand paused to cup his face. The thumb brushed over his cheekbone. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome.”

“Oh, he doesn’t need mirrors either,” Haarlep’s voice sing-sang from the next room. “He spends half his time looking at me. Or at portraits of himself. They’re on eeeevery wall.”

Yes, he was absolutely going to flay them. Raphael scowled, and turned to the doorway. “You-- back to the House of Hope. Now,” he snapped.

“I’m not done bathing.”

“I said now, incubus, or I’ll feed you your own skin!”

A long sigh, with Haarlep not even trying to sound intimidated or chastised as they should be. “Ah, what a cruel master I found myself bound to. You may want to run, little mouse, while you still--”

“Haarlep.”

A laugh, the whooshing noise of flames flaring up, and then there was only the sound of water rushing to fill up a space left empty all of a sudden. Raphael kept glaring at the doorway for a few moments and likely would have glared a few more, if not for the hand on his cheek turning his head back to her. She pressed her lips on the bridge of his nose, at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you threaten to flay them often?” she asked, chuckling, and Raphael scoffed. 

“Nearly every day.”

“And do you ever do it?”

“... They should count themself very lucky that they’re good at what they do.”

“Yes, it did sound like they knew what they were doing,” Tav commented. Raphael was acutely aware he’d made a spectacle of himself on that bed, and the slightest hint of mockery in her voice may have been enough to turn mild annoyance into raging fury. But there was no mockery, and thus there was no fury. Only a meeting of lips, a hand tangling in his hair.

Right. Damage control. He couldn’t allow himself to be sidetracked by the very same impertinent incubus who’d landed him in that situation to begin with. A frustrating situation if to be fair - and he nothing if not fair - not the most unpleasant he’d ever been in by a long shot. The little mouse was no incubus, and didn’t seem inclined towards another bout of passion just yet. She just kissed him, slow and lazy and content, running a hand down his chest while leaning back on the pillow. 

That suited Raphael well enough. If he was being honest, at least in his own private thoughts, he could not recall the last time he’d slept with anyone other than Haarlep. Nor could he recall the act ever being meant for anyone’s pleasure but his own. Haarlep had their pleasure with him, sure enough, but it was taken, not given. 

… She could take pleasure from him too, and the thought stirred heat in his lower belly. But he was not as confident in his own ability to last without the aid of a ring and frankly, he had disgraced himself enough that night. He broke the kiss before his breathing quickened, and cleared his throat.

“The water in the pool is always warm,” he said. “If you’d like to join me, as we discuss the finer details of the deal,” he added. Much as he enjoyed the sensation in bed, he’d rather not discuss contracts with dried semen coating the back of his thighs. She probably felt the same about the come - his come, he thought, and some of that heat tried to make a comeback - between her own.

A nod. “That sounds good.” A pause. “... I’ll need to get a message to Elfsong Tavern before Astarion comes looking for me. I think you’ve had your fill of people walking in unannounced.”

“Ah, I see. He’d have come to seek you come morning, in case you ran afoul of me?” 

“Yes.”

Raphael tilted his head, and clicked his tongue. “That wounds me, little mouse.”

“That I wanted insurance, or that I thought myself and a vampire spawn could take you on?”

“Honestly, both.”

A quirk of her lips, that hand cupping his face, the thumb stroking his cheekbone again. He leaned into it without thinking as she spoke. “Apologies. Let me send him a message, and I’ll kiss it better. Do you have something I can write with?”

Raphael was never without a sizable supply of ink, quills and paper. The little mouse penned the message quickly, blew on the ink to dry it, and folded it before turning back to him. Raphael gestured for her to return to the bed, and pulled the sheets up to cover them both to an acceptable degree before snapping his fingers.

Korrilla materialized in the room mid-laugh, with her eyes squeezed shut and a mug of something in her hand. “Oh, come on! I don’t believe for a second that out of all the moments he could find to propo-” she trailed off, quite suddenly, and her eyes blinked open. They found the bed and the laugh faded, leaving behind something more akin to a rictus. Her eyes moved from Raphael to Tav, then back to Raphael. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tav wave, but Korrilla did not return the gesture. Instead she sighed, took a generous swig from the mug, and reached up to press her free hand over her eyes for a moment. “I did not need to see this,” she said, voice flat. Raphael scoffed. 

“You don’t need that tongue in your mouth either, yet I’m generous enough to let you keep it,” he informed her, his tone alone making it clear he could change that on a whim. He’d had quite enough of his underlings disrespecting him before his-- future kingdomcrowning glory-- ticket to the Crown of Karsus. “But an end to my generosity can be arranged,” he added, “if you don’t cease offering your input when it’s not required.”

Korrilla pressed her lips together, and was clever enough not to make other remarks. Raphael took the folded piece of paper from the little mouse’s hand, and held it out. “I need you to deliver this to Elfsong Tavern, for the attention of the vampire spawn--”

“It may be best not to call him a vampire spawn in front of the owner,” the little mouse cut him off. Raphael paused, and had to concede it was a fair point. 

“... Of course. To the attention of Astarion.”

“Right,” Korrilla said, just a little too mechanically, and took the note while standing as far from the bed as her arm’s length allowed her. It was not very far. “Anything else?”

“If you could stop by downstairs and let them know I’ll need their special herbal tea come morning,” the little mouse spoke up, “that would be really helpful.”

There was a sound that was almost a chortle. “Oh, definitely. I’ll do that.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Really,” she added, and was gone in a swirl of sparks and sulfur before either of them could say anything more. Raphael tilted his head.

“I was not aware this place had its own special tea.”

“You wouldn’t need it,” the little mouse said with a shrug, and pushed the covers off herself to stand. “And you wouldn’t want it, either. It tastes absolutely vile.”

“Then why request it?”

A laugh. “Our deal doesn’t involve a firstborn or anything like it, does it?”

Raphael blinked. “It does not.”

She shrugged and gestured to her thighs, where he could see the dried seed that had leaked out of her. “Then I really should be having those herbs in the morning.”

Right. That. Raphael cleared his throat with a nod. “Ah, I see. Of course,” he said, words uncharacteristically clumsy in his mouth. He was rather relieved when she turned to walk to the pool without another word on the subject, and all too eager to follow her into the water.

The finer details of the deal were few and far inbetween, and made for a short discussion. Near everything of relevance had been said earlier, after all, and taking back his word now was not an option. Raphael summoned the contract with a snap of his finger - double copy and in the common tongue as requested, inappropriate as that felt - and begrudgingly conceded that she could take both back for the vampire spawn to read through before she returned and finally, she promised, signed both.

“You’re dangerously close to giving me a headache, little mouse,” he muttered, watching her put both copies on the floor next to the pool before sinking back in. She’d grinned.

“Is it a headache so bad a crown cannot soothe it?”

“... I suppose not,” he conceded, and it wasn’t a lie. The Crown of Karsus and the rule of all Nine Hells of Baator would certainly soothe him a great deal. For a time.

The pool was a far cry from the restoration pool in the House of Hope, but hardly anything on that Plane could compare to his residence. It was adequate, if nothing else, with good quality soap and clean towels at hand, the perfume in the water not too cloying. It was definitely more than Tav had enjoyed in a long while, if ever, because she took her time washing up.

“If not for the Elder Brain to take care of,” she finally spoke, rinsing the last of the soap from her hair, “I’d never get out of here.”

Raphael chuckled, throwing some water on his face before he stood and looked around for another bar of soap. “My invite to come dine at the House of Hope has never been rescinded. If you’re inclined--” to join me in my boudoir, he’d meant to say, but he trailed off when he felt her tail wrap around his calf, soap-lathered hands stroking up his back. To his annoyance, he didn’t catch himself on time to stifle a sharp breath. “If you’re angling for more concessions--”

“Not at all,” the little mouse replied, voice light. Her hands lathered his back in long, slow strokes, and her tail went up his leg. “That deal is as good as done. I was thinking we may discuss my other proposal. Me coming to the Hells to help you fight this war.” Her hands slipped around his waist, her chest pressed against Raphael’s back. Her tail brushed the inside of his thigh. “I meant what I said. I’ll fight for you to conquer the Hells. If you’ll have me.”

At the moment Raphael felt he wanted to have her indeed, in several ways, few of them figurative and most of them extremely literal. The hands brushing across his stomach turned his voice rougher than he’d have liked. “... I imagine,” he said, “that for all the power I’ll wield, one can never have too many assets.”

“Then you’ll have me, and my magic. And my sword, my bow, an axe I will buy for the occasion.” A hand went up to his chest while the other dipped below the water, closed around his cock. Raphael let out a shuddering breath, shut his eyes. A nail traced a vein and, again, he began to harden, the heat back in his loins. He didn’t try to fight it.

“And what do you expect in exchange?” he asked, eyes shut. She hummed, leaning her cheek against the back of his shoulder. 

“Archdevil Zariel will never give up Avernus without a fight.”

“She will not, but it won’t matter at all. Once I have the Crown, and my legions are ready, the Flying Fortress will fall.”

“Zariel will fight to the end.”

“I expect that she will. And I expect that is how she dies.”

“I want to be the one to deal the killing blow.”

Whatever Raphael had expected her to say, that was not it. He blinked, taken aback, and forgot even the hand stroking his cock. He turned to look at Tav over his shoulder, and she met his gaze. “This is what I want in exchange,” she spoke, and he felt the heat of it now - anger, and hatred. He was familiar with both, but he’d rarely met anyone before who hated as beautifully as this unassuming scrap of a tiefling. “Zariel dead by my hand, her head to put on a pike. Give me this, and I will follow you to Malsheem to be the first to kneel when you sit on Asmodeus’ throne.”

I give her this, Raphael thought, and she may agree to revise the contract sooner rather than later, too. 

Raphael swallowed, and turned to face her. She let go of him and took only half a step back, still looking at him in the eyes. He licked his lips. “... I could find out nothing about your past,” he admitted, quietly. He reached to cup her face, brush some soap off her cheek with a thumb. “It aggravated me greatly, I must say. But I think I can guess now. You’re from Elturel.”

“I was.”

“I see.” Left alone in the world, out for revenge. An old tale, but Raphael would never grow tired of the timeless tragedy of it. Mortals out for revenge were always among his favorite clients. Not always the easiest, necessarily, but the most interesting. The little mouse had yet to disappoint in that regard. “... Who was Misza?”

She stilled, and spoke again with a voice as cold as the glaciers of Cania. “You said you could find out nothing--”

“I did not. You called that name, when you woke up.”

“Ah.” The coldness faded, and she drew in a long breath, turning her gaze away. “... A gentle soul. I don’t think she lasted long in Avernus.”

“Gentle souls seldom do,” Raphael conceded, and nodded. “Very well. Lead the charge for me, and Zariel’s head will be yours.”

He’d seen her smile before, but the smile she gave now was different. It was not for him, not really, and of that he could only be glad: it was a smile that would not be out of place on a pit fiend, rather than on a simple tiefling. If that was the last thing Zariel would see before she died, Raphael could almost find it in himself to feel pity for her. 

Then the little mouse grasped his head, pulled it down, and kissed him fiercely enough to make him forget an archdevil Zariel even existed. She pressed close, flush against him, and he hissed when his erection brushed against her hip. “I hope you’re aware,” he breathed against her lips, “that this was never necessary for me to agree.”

He felt her smile. “Ah,” she said, arms tight around his neck, “but I do want it.”

Well, far it be from him to disappoint his most interesting client yet. And while Haarep described him as disappointing more often than not - a gross exaggeration, no doubt - there was one skill he’d learned well enough. The Archduchess Raphael made sure he learned, and he’d been a good pupil if he said so himself. 

Fittingly for the moniker he’d bestowed upon her, the little mouse was indeed small, and light; easy to hoist up to sit by the side of the pool, legs dangling in the water while he knelt between them. She looked down, licking her lips, and ran a hand through his wet hair. 

“Could you change?” she asked, her voice rough. “I like your other face, too.”

A chuckle. “You won’t get to look at it all that much,” he said, but it was a request he could satisfy and so he did. Had she been anything but a tiefling, the flames which came with his transformation would have burned the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He stretched his wings a moment, splashing water, and smiled when he felt her hands grasping his horns. 

Haarlep did that often, too. They were, after all, excellent for leverage… and a strong grip on his horns, holding his head in place, never failed to send a jolt of arousal down his spine, straight to his cock. It wouldn’t help him last, but that wasn’t important now. All he needed was his tongue, and that had always served him well in any endeavor. 

Raphael did not look up again. He placed a hand on each of the little mouse’s thighs and spread them open, leaning forward to press his mouth against her folds. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her filling his nostrils, and ran his tongue across her in a long, hot swipe. He felt her shudder, and heard her moan; her legs hooked over his shoulders, trembling, giving him more access while she held onto his horns for dear life. 

With Haarlep in the form of the Archduchess, he never got to set the pace. With her, there was no respite, no comfort to be had. She’d straddle his face and not budge until she’d had her fill, grinding against his mouth, yanking his horns and pulling at his hair, ordering him to prove he wasn’t all that worthless after all, to use that mouth of his for something worthwhile least she cut off his useless tongue and show the world that it wasn’t made of silver after all. 

At that point he would already be-- pathetic-- bruised and battered, having been made to crawl and beg to be used, shame a tangible weight in his stomach only matched by his need for more. Learning to give the Archduchess the pleasure she demanded had been a long process, each lesson a welt or a cut or worse, ending quite literally in blood and tears… but he had learned. 

And a lesson learned, he knew, is a lesson earned.

His little mouse was so wet, it took several swipes of his tongue to get any real friction against her. When he did, her hips buckled violently and she almost wrenched his head away, only to immediately pull him against her again. But it was nothing compared to the way the Archduchess would jerk his head around, sometimes violently enough to fracture his neck if she deemed his performance lacking, so he barely missed a beat. He placed a kiss on her mound, grazed at sensitive skin with his teeth, and buried his face in her folds again.

“Gods,” she groaned. “Please please please don’t stop.”

For a moment Raphael did pause, smiling against her, half his face already wet with her juices. She sounded almost delirious with pleasure, and for a moment he regretted sending Haarlep away; he should have had them stay  and watch. He should have made them listen to this, to remember next time they tried to call him a disappointing lover again.

No matter. They can watch us next time, in the House of Hope. Only watch. I won’t let them touch her, or me. Won’t even let them touch themself. Will serve them right.

The thought made him shiver - Haarlep watching, the little mouse in his boudoir, the mental image of them both fucking him on Asmodeus’ throne, his throne; let all of Nessus see, let all of Baator see - and he almost spent himself right there and then. 

But he held back, and forced himself to ignore his aching cock to burrow his face against her cunt again, licking and kissing and sucking and letting himself forget everything else outside this, the scent and taste and touch, the voice crying out in pleasure under his ministrations, the grip on his horns, the heels digging against his back. Beneath his palms, her thighs quivered and tensed. Something changed about her shudders, something in the rhythm of them telling him she was close. She canted her hips against his mouth, leveraging on his horns, and he pushed his tongue in, all of it. He was rewarded with a near cry.

“Raphael,” she managed, the name nearly breaking up on her lips, and the next groan to ring out was his own. He’d heard his name many times over centuries - spoken with deference or loathing, in despair or with mockery, in anger and fear - but never, even with an incubus in his bed, had he heard it quite like that. Not with that want. Not with that need.

Was that why Haarlep wanted him to say their name, when in the throes of pleasure? Was this how they felt? Hells, it went to his head like gughalaki and he couldn’t get enough of it. Another moan above him, and Raphael stopped thinking. He closed his lips on her clit and sucked, all finesse gone, wanting nothing more than hearing, feeling her come undone. 

He got what he wanted. One of her hands let go of his horns, and the next moment there was a barely muffled cry. Her hips buckled one more time against his mouth and then she held still, shuddering, heels digging deeper into his back as though she feared he might pull away. 

Raphael didn’t think all the might of every devil in Baator could make him pull back an inch. He kept licking and sucking her folds while she rode it out and finally went limp with a near sob. She let go of his horns entirely and might have fallen back on the floor, had Raphael not reached out to catch her. He stood, still in the pool, gaze locked on the panting form in his grasp. He licked his lips.

There should be a portrait of her like this, he thought, to show Haarlep whenever they complained about his skill again. And also for his viewing pleasure, he supposed, but mostly for that. “Little mouse?” Raphael called out, his voice still rough, and she drew in a long breath before opening her eyes. Her gaze was still dazed with pleasure, and she spoke with a voice like sandpaper.

“How do I know,” she managed, “that Raphael hasn’t left and you’re not the incubus after all?”

Raphael let out a scoff that may pass as a somewhat breathless attempt at a laugh. “Am I to take it as a compliment?”

“You can bet your ass.”

“I only deal in souls, and you truly should work on your flattery. Still, consider the compliment graciously accepted.”

A few more panting breaths, and she sat up before glancing down. Raphael was still standing between her thighs and, he realized after a moment, still hard. It wasn’t all that rare for mortal to show a somewhat disconcerting interest in what a devil’s cock looked like. In a rare moment of talkativeness on the subject, Korrilla had admitted that since their arrival at Baldur’s Gate she’d had several queries about it from people who had a rather interesting - if incorrect - idea of what their strictly professional relationship entailed.

Whether or not the little mouse shared the curiosity, she now seemed to be considering the size of it, the girth, the ridges. She licked  her lips, and reached up to grasp his shoulders to pull him close. Her heart beat wildly against his chest.

“You’re not done,” she murmured against his throat, and leaned back on her elbows, legs hooking around his thighs. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes seemed to burn. “Come inside.”

Raphael seldom needed to be asked such things twice, and this was no exception; if anything, it was a small wonder he didn’t spend himself against her thigh on her words alone. He gripped her back and thrust forward blindly, in a near bestial lust that belied his every attempt to be civil up to that point. But she was so wet and open to him, he slid in like she was meant to take him; the shuddering gasp against his skin almost undid him.

He did not, as expected, last long. A few graceless, desperate thrusts and he came with a shuddering groan, dropping on top of her, panting against her hair. He had the presence of mind to change his form back to the human one so he wouldn’t weigh too heavily on her, but that was all he could do for a few long minutes. Frankly, for a while it was all he wanted to do: remain still, nestled within her, feeling nothing but her heartbeat against his chest and her hands down his neck, down his back. 

When he finally let out a long breath and lifted his head, the hands went to cup his face. His little mouse looked at him through half-lidded eyes, a sated smile on her lips. “Ah, there it is,” she said, brushing a lock of hair off his face. “I see it now.”

“See what?”

“The fox,” she replied, and Raphael chuckled.

“You mean to tell me you didn’t see it before?”

“I was still half thinking you might be the cat, but that fits Haarlep best.”

“Haarlep?”

“Cats never do a damn thing they’re told, and you still want to keep them around.”

Another chuckle. “That sounds like an accurate description,” he conceded. The thought he’d had earlier, both Haarlep and her fucking him on the throne of Nessus for all of Baator to see, nothing on him but the Crown, pushed its way back into his mind. He could almost feel Haarlep’s cock in him, as real as the taste of her in his mouth. Breath caught in his throat a moment, and something deep within him trembled.

“... Raphael? Are you--”

A well-timed knock on the door ended the question before it was even out. Mamzell Amira’s voice rang out, much too chipper for that time in the morning. Or what Raphael assumed was the time in the morning; keeping track of the time had not been among his priorities.

“I’ve brought the special tea, piping hot! And some breakfast, of course. I’ll leave it outside!”

“Much obliged,” the little mouse called out, and Raphael took it as his cue to pull out of her. He allowed himself to dip underwater a few moments before he stood, rinsed his face again, and reached for a towel.

“Do rinse yourself. I’ll take the tray in.”

She chuckled, slipping in the water as he left the pool. “The archdevil supreme, offering to carry my tray?”

“The archdevil supreme was taught manners a lady ought to appreciate.”

“Alas, I’m just a rodent of small size.”

When she’d said the tea tasted vile, she probably was not exaggerating: it most certainly smelled vile, too, and he got some measure of admittedly childish entertainment out of watching her face as she forced it down. 

The breakfast of fresh pastries and oranges was much better received, but did not last long. Soon enough she was putting her armor back on, picking up the contract - both copies of it - and grabbing one last pastry. The one Raphael had been planning to eat next, to his annoyance. “I’ll have Astarion take a look at the contract first thing,” she said. “Unless he has something to object to, I’ll be back to sign it before noon.”

“He’ll find nothing to object to, as it meets all the requests you so convincingly outlined,” Raphael pointed out, settling for another orange. “But he’s welcome to waste time however he sees fit. Just remember you don’t have much of it, little mouse,” he added, and as though to agree with him, the ground shook. He looked over to see her press her lips together.

“... I’ll be back soon,” she finally said. And indeed, Indeed, she returned before noon. The contract was signed, the Orphic Hammer placed in her hands, and that should have been the last step for Raphael - the moment when he’d sit back to see if they could win after all, if his investment would pay off. 

He’d done all that he’d set out to do to make it so, he reasoned, watching her retreating back. Still… “Wait.”

She turned, already in the doorway, to see Raphael snap his fingers. Flames enveloped her and she gave a startled cry, but they died down just as fast. Once they did there she stood, clad in the Helldusk Armor. It would not hurt, he reasoned, to give her a little advantage. Prone as she and her companions were to surprise him, they were facing a fight the likes of which few mortals had ever seen.

“It’s my own armor, made by the forgemaster of Avemus,” Raphael explained as she looked down at it. “Superior to anything a mortal blacksmith may hope to achieve. It always fits its wearer, so you may borrow it for the upcoming battle. Return it along with the Crown once you’ve triumphed.”

The little mouse flexed a gloved hand for a moment, looking at the infernal metal, and nodded. “... Very well. Thank you.”

“You may keep your thanks. You know what the one thing I want from you is,” Raphael scoffed. “Now go, and give that Netherbrain a taste of the Hells.”

The little mouse laughed. “Very well. Just one more thing.”

“There is nothing more to discu--” Raphael began, only to trail off when she strode back in and grabbed his doublet to pull his head down. She planted her lips on his for a brief, forceful kiss. When she pulled back, she was grinning.

“For luck,” she said, and she was out of the door before Raphael’s mouth could formulate a reply, a spring in her step and the Orphic Hammer slung across her back. The door closed behind her, and Raphael found himself staring at it for a very long time.

***

“My word, I’d have never thought I’d live to see the day you’d turn into a philanthropist. Who’d have known you’d find you have  a kind soul after all, master?”

That last word, purposely thrown in after a pause like the afterthought it was, somehow annoyed Raphael more than any of the other nonsense Haarlep kept spouting. “Keep this up, and you’ll find soon enough how kind I am,” he bit without teeth, and drank another mouthful from the goblet of blood red wine he’d been glaring at for the past several minutes.

Lounging on the bed, a half-eaten apple in hand, Haarlep sighed. “And you’re modest, too!”

“Be quiet, incubus.”

“You’re still crownless, and yet you helped fix the tiefling’s infernal machine so she can live in the Material Plane, just as you promised! Giving something for nothing. How is that not kind?”

Raphael scoffed. “That the Crown of Karsus would come apart and be in need of reforging was not an outcome I’d planned for, and Zariel’s old guard dog was drawing her last. Had I let her burn herself out without intervening, I would have been in breach of the contract. I don’t expect you to understand such things. The crown will be mine. I have yet to take the Netherese Orb out of the wizard’s chest--”

“Couldn’t he do it himself, by keeping the Crown once he’s done reforging it? Or surely, Mystra could?”

Raphael scowled. “He’d doom the little mouse’s soul by refusing to give it back, and he knows it. Ambitious he may be, but he has the same fatal flaw as most other mortals - sentimentality. Gale of Waterdeep will not--”

“Actually, it’s Professor Dekarios now. Ready for orb removal at your earliest convenience.”

The little mouse’s voice rang out suddenly from the doorway, causing Raphael to turn with a start and Haarlep’s grin to become, if possible, even wider. “Ah, here’s our favorite little mouse!” the incubus crooned. Their tail whipped the air as they stood and approached her. “We were just talking about you. And your friends. And the Crown, of course.”

“Oh, this crown?”

Any and all questions Raphael may have had - how did you get here, when did you get here, how dare you come here - died in his throat when she held up the reforged Crown of Karsus. No longer massive as it had been on top of the Netherbrain, it still looked as foreboding. The three netherstones set amidst spikes of black metal glinted and Raphael could already feel it, the hum of power within each, waiting to be unleashed by someone worthy of wielding them.

Someone like him.

“Give it here,” he said, impatience winning out on civility. He stepped closer, mouth dry, wishing he’d changed into his devilish form so that he could truly tower over her as he should, as he deserved to tower over everyone. The little mouse met his gaze, and smiled. 

“And then what, you’ll put it on your own head? That’s not how crownings usually go.”

“I am not in the mood for games--”

“I went through an awful lot to get this crown. It seems only fitting I get to place it on your head myself,” she cut him off, and gestured to the floor with a sharp nod. “Kneel.”

It was spoken like an order, as she held the key to his near-unimaginable power, and by all rights it should have infuriated him beyond words. Instead, it made him stop in his tracks, something twisting in his stomach. He’d heard that order many, many times - in that boudoir, mostly, but sometimes outside of it too - and he’d always obeyed it in the end.

On the floor, pet. Kneel. 

“Oh, come now, little brat,” Haarlep purred, coming to stand next to her. Raphael’s eyes moved from them to the little mouse and back, his mouth still dry, unable to formulate words. “You always kneel so prettily for me. And you’ll do it again many, many times. Even with a crown on your head and the Nine Hells at your feet, you’ll always yearn to kneel.” A smile, sweet as rotten honey. “But not to worry, sweetling. We’ll always help you up, when we’re done with you.”

“The only throne you need,” Haarlep had said, pushing him down on their cock. “Is it not your proper place? The only thing you wish to be seated on?”

Raphael opened his mouth to speak, but he could utter no sound. His tongue was heavy, his voice lost. The little mouse was not speaking: she only held the crown, his crown, and kept that hungry look of hers fixed on him. Slowly, beyond thought, his head wrapped in silence, Raphael felt his knees bend. Her lips curled in a smile and she stepped forward, holding up the crown. So many years, decades, centuries of yearning, and there it was at last. Raphael smiled, and closed his eyes an instant before the Crown of Karsus was lowered on his head.

Down came the crown, he thought. And that, love, was that.

The metal felt warm against his forehead, thrumming, alive. Raphael drew in a sharp breath. It felt like a stroke of lighting, a surge of power humming and crackling into every fiber of his being, in his very blood and bone and sinew, in every nerve ending. Raw power, limitless potential kept inert too long, now aching to be used, unleashed. It would not be unleashed yet, though, not until he willed it; the Crown’s power strained against him, and for a brief moment flames flared up, bright, blinding even through his closed eyelids.

But it was only a moment’s lapse, and the flames died down. Raphael had power enough of his own to hold the Crown in check until it was time to use it, to bend all the Hells to his will and step on his father’s throat on his way to Asmodeus.

Soon. Very, very soon, but not just yet. Not until the entirety of his plan was ready to be set in motion; he hadn’t spent centuries in wait to rush it now. Another half a year at most and he’d strike out at Avernus first, with his little mouse leading the charge. She’d have her revenge, and he the first layer of the Hells. It would be perfect, and glorious, and just the beginning. 

Let all of the Hells know what I need, then. Let them all see. Who would dare mock me for it?

Raphael smiled, savoring the warm weight of the crown on his head, the power buzzing in his nerves and veins and bones, and opened his eyes. He did not stand: he only looked up to meet their gazes, to see the amused glint in Haarlep’s eyes and the almost predatory one in Tav’s. He licked his lips and lifted his hands, palms up. 

It was a plea, and it was an order.

Take me. Break me. Worship me. Make me whole.

He did not speak those words, but he may as well have. A moment later his little mouse had claimed his mouth with her own, a hand tangling in his hair; Haarlep’s own mouth was on the back of his neck, teeth grazing skin, their hands reaching around him to tear open his doublet. As he parted his lips and leaned into the touch Raphael had one last, clear thought. 

They dined on him both, the cat and the mouse.

*** [Back to Act I]

[Back to Act II]

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Screen Date

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 1]

Hearing the sound of pebbles hitting the window, I quickly look down.

Carla waves her hand and points in the direction of the back door of my house. I feel a sense of elation. After confirming that my parents are asleep, I carefully pick up my skirt, go downstairs and slip out the door.

Carla: We have to hurry up, or we'll miss the magic show. It's the hottest new thing right now!

Before I can say anything, she takes my hand and starts running with me.

As one of the few cheerful girls in the girls' church school, Carla is always taking me to experience all kinds of novel things at the moment.

If not for her well-informed sources and the dogmatic atmosphere at home, I probably would never have even had the chance to see the club.

With the town being as small as it is, we arrive at the newly opened club very quickly.

The waiter leads us inside, and the moment the doors open, the music is loudly amplified, mixing with a series of encores.

The man in a white suit takes off his hat to the audience and gracefully walks off the stage.

His blonde hair is particularly dazzling, like a figure walking out of a palace oil painting. People don't stop cheering until the figure disappears around the corner of the stage.

Host: Today's magic has come to an end, please enjoy the rest of the evening.

The music sounds again. The lights of the mirror-ball reflect on the dance floor and all kinds of men and women begin to dance.

MC: ...Is it over?

Carla: What a pity! I wonder If I'll be able to sneak out again during the next performance...

Carla lets out a regretful sigh and pulls me to sit in the booth next to her.

But after just one look behind her, she suddenly seems to have discovered something and her face livens up again.

Carla: You sit here for a bit while I go put my makeup on. Since I'm not interested in magic, I've got to find a handsome guy to dance with, otherwise these tickets will have been in vain.

MC: Wait...

When I look up, I see a pair of blue eyes behind Carla's fiery figure.

The man not far away is clad in a white suit. Before I can react, he walks up to me, and with a slight twist of his fingers, a flower suddenly appears, held between his fingertips.

Magician: The most beautiful flower, given to most adorable and charming lady in the room.

He immediately hands over the flower to me, his blue eyes particularly clear in the light, akin to shining stars in the night sky.

I am left a little stunned for a moment, hesitant on whether I should take the flower from him.

Magician: You don't like magic?

MC: No, I like it very much.

MC: It's just my first time seeing this kind of magic... I'm sorry, my friend and I just missed your show.

Magician: Do you still want to see it?

His slightly drawn-out voice carries with it a certain temptation, pulling me into its tide, and I nod almost subconsciously.

He smiles and sits down on the plush seat next to me, asking the waiter to serve us two glasses of wine. He then takes out a deck of playing cards.

Magician: Actually, magic can not only change things out of thin air, but can also provide many interesting forms of entertainment.

Magician: For example, in the this deck of cards, I can guess your heart.

MC: Guess... my heart?

Magician: If I guess correctly, you have to answer my question, if not... I will give you whatever you want.

Magician: Want to give it a try?

He holds the cards with a determined look on his face, and his blue eyes look straight into my heart with a hint of aggression and bewitchment.

My heart cannot help but beat faster, yet I deliberately raise my voice, unconvinced.

MC: Okay, please start.

Magician: Please choose a card from this deck. Remember the type and number, don't show it to me, and then put it back in again.

I draw out a 9 of hearts, then turn the card over and put it back, following his instructions. He shuffles the cards a few more times.

He puts his hand on the cards, as if sensing something, then takes one out and hands it to me.

After taking a good look at the card, I cannot help but widen my eyes. It is the 9 of hearts that I drew.

MC: ...How did you do it?!

Magician: I said I could do magic.

Magician: First question, tell me your name.

MC: Jenny.

MC: Please sir, what is your name..?

Magician: Kylo.

He raises his eyebrows slightly. At this moment, the stars seem to be condensed within his irises, rendering me unable to look away.

Kylo: Miss Jenny, shall we continue?

Kylo: Right now, everything has only just begun.

His slender fingers fingers fold the cards then, and the pile of cards dance regularly in his hands, drawing a beautiful arc in the air, and are then handed to me.

The inadvertent contact of our skins leaves my fingertips with a slight burn.

Just when I am about to take over, the cards fly obediently into his palm in the next second.

A slight smile appears on the corner of his mouth and he waves the cards in front of me again, his mischievous movements making me even more eager to try.

We play like this one game after another, chatting more and more speculatively with each magic trick, until the waiter comes to remind us that the club is about to close.

What occurred just now was akin to a beautiful dream, but now that I have woken up from this dream, I am a little ashamed to find that Carla has disappeared without me knowing when.

I quickly search the surroundings with Kylo, but even until everyone has gone, she is nowhere to be found.

Waiter: If you're looking for the lady who came with you, she and another gentleman have already left.

After listening to the waiter, we are left with no choice but to walk out first.

The street lights are turned off in the early morning, and a few crows can be heard in the distance every now and then, making the already dark night even more eerie.

Kylo chuckles into my ear. He seems to have read my thoughts.

Kylo: I'll take you home. I want to hear more interesting things about your school.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 2]

Kiro: This is my first playing the male lead since I started acting. It's truly great being able to work with my senior.

In the dressing room, Kiro takes off his top hat, straightens his jacket and then sits down not far away, slightly reserved.

He is the best among the newly signed actors of the company. Although his qualifications are still relatively young, he will definitely go on to become a good star in the future.

MC: Don't say that. We both belong to the same company, so there will be many opportunities for us to work together in the future.

Assistant: Miss MC, your coffee.

MC: Betty, also...

Just when I am about to ask my assistant to make another cup for Kiro, the door of the dressing room creaks open.

Assistant Director: This is the script for the next scene. The screenwriter has just revised it. It would be best for the two of you to walk through the scene in advance after reading it.

Assistant Director: We plan on deleting Carla's part to make the rhythm more compact. After finishing the shots, we will shoot the entire scene from the doorway to the end.

Taking the script, I glance at it briefly and then frown slightly.

MC: It's a bit different from the previous content...

The previous scene where Kylo sent Jenny home is changed to that of an intimate one, with the inclusion of hugging and kissing scenes that are somewhat bold nowadays.

Kiro, who is standing on the side, is also left stunned. He looks at me with a bit of hesitation and then quickly averts his eyes.

Although he has deliberately turned his head, I could still make out the slight blush on his face.

Assistant Director: This is the version that has been approved by the higher-ups. Though it's somewhat challenging, I believe that the two of you will definitely give us the best of your acting skills.

Assistant Director: If you want to finish the shoot before dawn, focus on this... and...

After a few more explanations, the assistant director leaves, taking my assistant out, leaving us alone with the scene.

Apart from the roar of the fireplace, no other sound exists in the dressing room.

After I read the script again, I adjust my mental state, get up and walk to Kiro.

MC: Relax a little. After all, this is a required course for actors. Let's try the dialogue first, shall we?

Although I am a little nervous, as an actor with more experience in the industry, I try to keep my tone as relaxed as possible.

After hearing what I said, he nods slightly and stands up, taking a deep breath, as if he has made up his mind.

Kiro: [slowly exhaling] Okay.

I pick up the script, flip to the revised scene and clear my throat.

MC: I'm home, Mr. Kylo.

Kiro: Then I wish you... sweet dreams.

Kiro's voice during the dialogue is clearly a little softer, and his hands grip the edge of the script rather unnaturally.

He doesn't dare to look at me with his twinkling eyes. After repeating the lines again, he hesitates and does not continue.

Though it is also my first time shooting such a scene, and I can't keep my face from feeling a little hot, for the sake of moving forward, all I can do is calm myself down and let myself take the lead.

MC: Here, put your hands on my waist, pull me into your arms and kiss me.

As I speak, I take his hand and put it on my waist, taking the initiative to move closer to his arms.

Kiro: MC...

Surprise flashes across his face for a moment, obviously not expecting me to do this. He is about to pull his hand away, but I pull him tighter towards me.

MC: Let's focus on the script. Here it says that the magician wants to kiss... Jenny.

MC: If you're not used to it yet, we can turn off the lights first.

I try my best to control my stiff fingertips, raise my hand to turn off the light in the dressing room and breathe a sigh of relief.

This way, the growing heat on my face will not be exposed to him.

I am unable to see his face clearly in the darkness, only an overlapping and ambiguous silhouette outlined by the firelight emitting from the fireplace.

Everything is magnified. I can clearly feel the heat of his palms transmitting through the thin lacey fabric at my waist.

The close distance makes his breath fan across my face.

His eyes are like a deep sea. The moment our eyes meet, there is a touch of aggression and anticipation within them that makes my heart tighten.

After a brief silence, I pout and am about to say something, but my lips are suddenly enveloped with a light warmth.

He kisses me.

His warm breath occupies my lips and my breathing grows chaotic. It takes me a while to murmur that sentence.

MC: That was my first kiss, Mr. Magician.

We embrace each other in an extremely intimate posture. Beneath the beautiful light and shadow, he is a little closer than before, completely encircling me within his arms.

I put my hands on his shoulders and breathe against his warm lips, as if the two of us are melting together into the sea.

His breaths are a little fast, and his heartbeats beat rapidly against his chest. For a moment, I cannot even tell whether they are his or mine.

Although I am left momentarily stunned, I keep telling myself in my heart that this is an act.

However, I am not the only one left stunned at this moment.

Kiro: [dazed murmur] ...That was also my first kiss.

His words fall between our intertwined breaths, seeming to cause the temperature around us to suddenly rise.

MC: ...You got the wrong line.

A trace of what is left of my sense of reason makes me realize that this isn't a line, and I quickly change the subject to cover up my restless heartbeat.

My words clearly make him panic. Kiro quickly lets go of me and quickly turns the light back on.

Perhaps because he got caught in the embarrassing situation of "getting the wrong line", his face turns a little red, and he turns around, looking down at the lines in the script that he is supposed to say.

And because of this, I am glad that he isn't able to notice my reaction--

I am also breathing rapidly, my face heating up.

Likewise, he won't know...

This was also my first kiss, Mr. Kiro.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 3]

Kylo: Good evening, everyone.

Kylo: It was fate that allowed us to meet on this night.

On the club stage, the red velvet curtains are drawn to both sides with the music, the spotlight drawing the audience's attention to the young magician.

Kylo appears on the stage in a well-tailored white suit. He takes off his hat in greeting and then a rain of flowers showers down on the venue.

The next instant, he waves the magic wand in his hand. A cluster of firelight rises and the flowers disappear.

Kylo: Are you ready to join this miraculous feast?

I see him throwing his hat into the sky, and then the dazzling ribbons explode, the hat changing from one to three.

Kylo raises his chin in the face of the bright spotlight and takes one of the hats with great confidence.

He takes his time making his next move. His blue eyes look around calmly before he opens his palms--

Under the intense drum beat, a snow-white rabbit emerges from the hat. It shakes its ears and jumps into his palm.

The audience then exclaims and cheers, stands and applauds, and several people in fancy attire throw gold coins at the stage.

At this moment, I play the role of Jenny and sit in the booth somberly.

Sommelier: It's quite a pity that you just missed Mr. Kylo's performance, miss.

The sommelier on the side vividly describes to me the performance I had just missed while clearing out the glasses.

I turn to look at Kylo and smile shyly.

MC: But I don't think this is the only time Mr. Kylo will perform. I'll arrive early next time.

Kylo: Then I will reserve the best seat for you.

He says, putting on his hat and bowing to me like a gentleman.

Kylo: It's getting late, and I honestly can't find any reason to keep the lady.

Kylo: So, let me escort you home safely, alright?

-

Kylo and I walk side by side on the way home, and I sneakily look at his profile in the moonlught.

Perhaps it's because it's my first time being so close to someone of the opposite sex, but every time our eyes meet, my heartbeat keeps speeding up uncontrollably.

After hesitating for some time, despite my embarrassment, I finally ask the question that made me most curious.

MC: Mr. Kylo, someone like you... must already be in a relationship with a girl, right?

Kylo: You guessed wrong. I don't have a girlfriend.

Kylo: However, at his moment, I'm encountering a beautiful love, so maybe I'll have one soon.

Like some kind of invitation, he takes advantage of the situation and takes my hand.

All of a sudden, my face feels hot and my heart pounds heavily.

His palms are warm and dry, and somehow, I let him hold me until I reach the door of my house.

MC: ...I'm home now.

Kylo: Then, I wish you sweet dreams.

MC: The same to you.

I nod and prepare to open the door, slightly reluctant, but his voice comes from behind me again.

Kylo: I have never felt time fly so quickly...

Kylo: Perhaps the romantic night calls for a romantic farewell.

His whispers are carried to my ears by the wind. I try to steady my mind and look at this person who is still able to be eye-catching even in the dead of night.

MC: [blushing] Mr. Kylo...

Before I finish speaking, he takes a step closer to me, a smile on his face, and immediately puts his hands on my waist, drawing our breaths closer.

Kylo: We need some romance, right?

This is clearly a line in the script, but looking into his eyes, I feel as if I have fallen into a deep sea.

He puts me in a trance, and I am unable to tell whether this is a part of the act or not.

MC: [blushing] I...

In an instant, all those unspoken hesitations are swallowed up by his kiss.

Different from the shyness in the dressing room some time ago, his breathing closely intertwines with mine, as if wanting to loose himself in the sensation with me.

Kylo: [murmuring breathlessly] Tell me...

He asks me softly, as if he were bewitching me.

My breathing is a little chaotic, and I begin to respond to him involuntarily, slowly snaking my hands around his neck.

MC: Yes...

A trace of tenderness suddenly flashes in his eyes, but he does not let me go because of this, only continues to deepen the kiss.

It isn't until the camera lights not far away flash that I am suddenly brought back to reality and stroke his cheek.

MC: ...That was my first kiss, Mr. Kylo.

Director: Cut! Come in earlier and come again!

I quickly take a deep breath and nod to the director.

MC: Sorry, director. I'll adjust my state.

After responding to the director, when I turn around and look at Kiro before me, my originally calm heartbeat starts to race again.

MC: ...Well, you've made a lot of progress from what you did in the dressing room.

Kiro: Yeah?

Kiro: But I don't think it's enough.

Kiro: When facing the person you like, you have to make her feel it more clearly.

Kiro says it so candidly that I have to blink in surprise for a moment.

There is clearly no change in his facial features - it's the same as ever.

And his behavior at this moment is completely different to that of the shy young man who was in the dressing room half an hour ago.

But he doesn't give me a chance to ask for an explanation. He nods to the director and indicates that the filming can start.

With the sound of the film machine turning, I pick up the hem of my skirt again, as if I have already transformed into that young girl who doesn't know much about the world, immersed in that alluring golden light.

A newcomer whose acting skills have improved so quickly--

I think I want to get to know you again, Kiro.

Director: Action.

MC: That was my first kiss, Mr. Kylo.

Kylo: Then I must be the luckiest person in the world.

MC: Do you say that to other girls?

Kylo: No, you're the only one in front of me.

As he speaks, he takes off his coat and puts it on me, tightening it around the collar.

I startle, looking at the coat he put on me so naturally.

This isn't something that's in the script.

I am unable to keep myself from looking up at him, but he just looks at me with a smile and tucks my wind-blown hair behind my ears.

The coat is stained with his warmth and gradually merges with my own, prompting me to take a step closer to him under the heat.

At this moment, I am no longer confused about whether I am Jenny or MC.

I just obey my instincts at this moment and place a gentle kiss on his lips.

He immediately hugs me tighter, his hands wandering around my waist, and then gently strokes my back.

I gently close my eyes and what follows is a longer and more lingering kiss from him.

God knows how bold such a performance is. We are expressing love in front of everyone as if no one else was around.

Looking at him in front of me, feeling his breathing and touch, I gradually am unable to tell whether these emotions are real or a performance.

Since we have to shoot different scenes and angles for editing, we kiss like this countless times.

And I have drowned in that deep sea countless times.

By the time the director shouts "Cut", the sky was getting brighter.

Watching Kiro pack up his luggage alone in the distance, I suddenly feel a little uncomfortable.

Maybe I need to process what happened today.

I don't say anything more to Kiro. When I am about to leave in the car, he comes and knocks at my car window.

Kiro: Miss MC, can I have your contact information?

Different from the wandering look he has during filming, his eyes are pure, and shine in the morning light.

He makes my heart skip a beat again.

MC: Certainly.

I don't want him to see anything, so I lower my head take out the lipstick from my bag. With feigned nonchalance, I write my phone number on a piece of paper and hand it to him, and then ask my driver to drive away.

Looking at that figure gradually disappearing in the rearview mirror, a faint anticipation starts to spread in my heart.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 4]

But ever since that day, he has never contacted me.

Another day of shooting ends. As soon as I open the apartment door, the apartment manager on the first floor pokes his head out.

Manager: There's no call for you today, Miss MC.

MC: ...Thanks.

Manager: God, this is the first time I've seen you care so much.

Manager: You've been waiting for this call for three weeks, right? Tell me, what kind of person is this "Mr. Kiro"?

Seeing his look of interest, I smile politely in response and hurry back home.

The anticipation I felt when I handed over my phone number and name a few weeks ago has now turned into a slightly gnawing irritation.

The memory of that sweet and raw kiss has appeared so many times in my dreams in the middle of the night, that it honestly felt more like a dream.

Could it be that he is an expert? Not only is he an eloquent magician on-screen, but he's capable of leaving people anxious and sleepless at night off-screen as well.

Thoughts come to my mind, so I simply kick off my high heels and throw myself onto the sofa with a sigh.

To be honest, I could just contact him through the company while he is filming in other states.

But what is the point of contacting him like this? If he really thought of this as only a temporary emotion, then I might as well extinguish the flames that have ignited in my heart as soon as possible.

MC: Go ahead and film your movie. If you don't want to contact me, then don't contact me!

-

Kiro: Miss MC! Long time no see!

The next time I meet him is a month later on the set of a commercial we are co-producing.

As soon as I arrive at the beach we are filming at, the man who cast me aside and ignored me for more than a month immediately runs towards me.

He still smiles at me as brightly and warmly as the sun, and his eyes as blue as the sea can still easily take away my soul in an instant.

I turn my head away as if nothing has happened, deliberately not looking at him.

While I had some begrudging thoughts at the prospect of filming with him, the company has spent a lot of money to get this soda commercial.

Neither the reward in front of me nor my professional ethics has given me the chance to refuse.

Kiro: The response to the movie was very good. Everyone recognized our characters during the filming.

Kiro: People keep saying that we're a perfect match, a real couple!

My heart, which has been anxious for quite some time, becomes incredibly light. The corners of my mouth helplessly long to rise along with his, but I pull them down again.

I calmly straighten my back, raise my neck pretentiously and gracefully respond to him with a sideways glance.

MC: Yeah?

Kiro: I met a few movie fans a few days ago who asked me about your latest whereabouts...

As he waits with me for the camera to be set up, he talks about the daily happenings of this period, as if nothing has happened.

The irritability that has been with me for a long time lingers around me, mixing with the happiness of seeing him, and becoming more and more and complex than I am used to.

Kiro: How are you lately?

The "culprit" in front of me blinked his sincere eyes, an innocent look on his face.

Photographer: The props are ready! Come over here, you two!

Before I can answer, the photographer interrupts us.

But that was alright, otherwise I didn't know if I could maintain my composure on the surface.

After all, other than him, filming a summer soda commercial on a winter beach is sad enough.

Photographer: This set of promotional pictures needs to highlight the concept of drinks being incorporated into life. The two of you can chat about anything and find that casual everyday state for yourselves!

I sit under the parasol and make a cute gesture of enjoying the sunshine. Kiro is half-lying next to me clearly, reaching out to pick up a bottle of soda as if to drink it.

"Click--"

Photographer: Great! That's it! Keep going!

I straighten up and gesture to get something from the picnic basket. He changes his posture in response and looks back at me.

Kiro: You and I haven't seen each other for about a month.

Kiro: Like the photographer said, what should we talk about?

Photographer: Next one!

I am so angry that I hear the photographer's voice in my ears, so I immediately open my eyes wide and put on a sweet smile.

Kiro also raises his hand to put on his sunglasses, his face glowing.

"Click--"

The moment the camera moves away, my expression immediately collapses and I can't help but stare at him.

MC: Want to chat with me now? Did you take my phone number and forget about it a month ago?

Hearing my words, a trace of panic flashes across his eyes. He closes the magazine and is about to take my hand, but I cleverly sidestep him.

Photographer: Look at each other again! Smile... a little more sensationally!

I raise my eyebrows and look up at him, our eyes meeting in mid-air.

Kiro closes one eye and raises the corners of his lips in a teasing arc, though he is unable to remove the panic from his eyes in time.

"Click--"

This time, his outstretched hand grasps a hold of my wrist.

The warmth from another person irons my skin and is enough to warm my heart in this cold.

Kiro: I haven't forgotten. I've always kept your phone number!

Kiro: It's just... I haven't found the time yet...

MC: It's just a phone call. Do you need to find the time?

I can't help but complain quietly.

All I want is to know what he thinks of me, and meet with him and chat with him outside of the camera.

Kiro: Because it's a very important matter... so I've been thinking about how to tell you.

Kiro: Later I finally realized that I should tell you in person rather than on the phone.

He pulls my hand hard and prompts me to fall directly into his arms. Then the sound of the photographer pressing the shutter comes, one after another.

Kiro: What do you say?

Kiro touches my cheek with one hand and lowers his head.

The distance between us suddenly shortens and I fall into a clear ocean.

His breath gently brushes the side of my face and I breathe it in, along with the air.

Kiro: Will you go on a date with me?

"Click--"

I don't know if I had time to adjust my expression in the final photo and give a smile that met the requirements.

-

I don't even remember how I said goodbye to the photographer, thanked everyone at the scene one by one, and retired to the break room.

Involuntarily, my heart is roaring, and my cheeks have turned crimson.

Even after I wrap myself in my coat, my breathing still doesn't calm down.

A mischievous sound comes from beside me and a golden color that is more dazzling than the sun breaks into my line of sight.

The tip of his nose is still stained red due to the sea breeze. When he stretches out his hand, a piece of crystal clear fruit candy appears.

With another wave of his hand, the candy in his palm turns into a flower.

The corners of my lips rebel against my reason and raise due to this familiar scene.

MC: Is this also a trick by Mr. Magician?

Kiro places the flowers in my hand with immense care. He slows down his voice and speaks softly.

Kiro: You are the magician who has cast a spell on me.

Kiro: During the time I haven's seen you, I've thought about you every day.

Although I am slightly aware of his intentions, I still childishly choke him.

MC: ...It's been more than a month and you still haven't broken the act?

Kiro: Whether on or off screen, I have missed this lovely and charming lady.

Kiro: Rather, it was because I wanted to distinguish whether it was the you on screen or the you off screen that I couldn't forget...

Kiro: That's why I took on that scene that was shot out of town. I already knew your number by heart, and I had passed by the phone booth hundreds of times, but I still never called you.

Kiro: Because I realized that I couldn't just seek you out - I wanted to stand higher in order to be close to you.

Kiro: So when I came to know you were going to be shooting for this commercial, I worked hard to get the opportunity for this as well.

Kiro: Whether she's an innocent and lovely young lady on-screen, or a professional celebrity who hides her nervousness off-screen.

Kiro: Or the vibrant and lively MC in front of me, who secretly glared at me several times.

Kiro: As long as you are in front of me, you leave me fascinated.

He looks straight at me, slowly but not allowing me to refuse, and leans forward, pressing a little warmth to my lips.

Sweet, and just as raw and clumsy as that night.

Different from the master magician, standing before me is the sincere and passionate Kiro who belongs only to me.

I close my eyes and give him the same unskilled kiss.

The fire in the break room crackles, propping up a corner of spring flowers in winter.

Kiro: Will you go on a date with me?

He lowers his voice and whispers into my ear, sending a steady stream of heat that leaves me dizzy.

I put my arms around his neck and peck him on the cheek.

MC: Isn't it happening right now?

[END]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

✨ Trivia: The 9 of Hearts card that MC drew in the start of the date symbolizes satisfaction and joy. All misfortune is reversed or mitigated by this card. It gives the message: enjoy today and stop worrying about tomorrow.

Translation Masterlist: HERE

[classicanalyzer]

Star Wars Visions - Journey to the Dark Head Thoughts and Analysis

"I'm sorry. This was a waste of time. You were right. No matter what we do, it won't end. There's no way to stop this war. And even if we did, it doesn't matter. Another would just arise." Ara (아라)

"Nothing is fixed. Light and dark will always coexist. And if nothing is set in stone, that means there will always be hope. We are always caught in the tide of uncertainty, but the next wave carries as much hope as it does despair. Ara, I actually needed this mission. And I think you did too." Toul (토울)

Journey to the Dark Head is really special to me. Seeing my culture represented in Star Wars warms my heart. As a Korean-American, it's special to see Korean voice actors as the main dub and talent in Star Wars (another reason why I'm so excited and hyped to see the Acolyte!). Alongside Ninth Jedi, I hope this short gets its own show (the team in Studio Mir's Radio Talk even mentions how they have many ideas for the universe of Journey to the Dark Head!). This is my dedicated piece for Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month (I know this is very late but a lot was going on preventing me from completing this earlier).

The focus setting of the short is the world of Dolgarak, a world home to two giant statues known as the Statues of prophecy, during the Old Republic Era (a reminder that Visions is non-Canon but it seems like it took place during this Era). The Hanbok-inspired outfits in the opening are amazing. We see a group of kids from a community of Force Oracles, beings who read prophecies when the stones of the temple experienced rainfall, stepping into the temple. Ara sees a prophecy as the rain drops on the rocks: Three figures in a duel. An Interpreter is there to record the prophecies into the record...a practice that Ara questions after seeing a prophecy said to take place in the future. She wants to deliver their information to the Jedi at which the Interpretator points out that they're not Jedi. Star Wars has delved into how visions can often be misleading despite having truth in them. Something which the Interpreter seems to be aware of than Ara at the moment. The theme of war as a cycle and how they come and go. The community keeps records of conflicts and prophecies so they can be read...and hopefully from my interpretation of the goal to prevent the cycle from repeating by learning about them. However, the idealist Ara just can't believe that their life is just a part of a never-ending cycle. Then she wonders...could the war end by cutting off the Dark Head?

(Fun Fact: my blog's banner is taken from the Hangul-inspired language shown in this short!)

"There is much you don't understand. War and conflict are constants. They are both built on the sands of time, which will continue to ebb and flow for all eternity. And their record remains on these stones. We read and keep their record." Interpreter

As the short transitions to the modern day, we see a hopeful pilot, Ara, and a disillusioned Jedi, Toul. Ara still believes that by cutting off the Dark Head, the war will finally turn against the Sith as she appeals to two members of the Jedi Council. One Jedi Master senses that approving the mission is the right course of action despite another Master's low opinion of this theory. With Toul being sent to go with Ara, the Master senses how it's destiny for him.

We see Toul trying to mediate as he remembers the day his Master was killed. Bichan (비찬), the Sith Lord with a Korean mask-influenced helmet and a Lightsaber with a chain, seeks to turn Toul into his apprentice after seeing the rage in him. Bichan left behind a "parting" gift in the form of a scar. Interestingly, visually Bichan shares similar facial similarities with Ara. The creators and team behind the show confirmed that he and Ara are the same species native to Dolgarak. The markings are based on the Haechi.

Toul when awoken displays a dark view of the point of mediating when the Sith will come for them anyway to kill them. The fear has taken hold of him as he doesn't have much to hope for. When the two finally meet...to say their respect for each other is low would be an understatement. Ara doesn't view Toul as what she imagines a Jedi to be (calling him a "kid" even though they're very likely around the same age but Ara is actually slightly taller than him) and even states how he should at least pretend to be one. Vice versa, Toul believes Ara's idea to be a foolish endeavor. As the two make a quick pit stop at an Asteroid City's Black Market, Ara buys supplies for their mission (I love how the team said they were able to keep the Goolbi-looking bombs in despite the runtime)...however as Toul spots a group passing by, he spots Bichan who muses something familiar nearby.

Once they reach Dolgarak, they're attacked by Bichan who is after the Statues of prophecy as well. As the two struggle to both survive in a tense high-speed sequence, Bichan taunts Toul about the Jedi sending Toul alone to be confronted by him. The teamwork and trust Ara and Toul display to each other despite their troubles with one another shows what they truly think of each other underneath. The action in this sequence is Studio Mir at their best: the exaggerated movements in the Lightsaber duel, the launching of the bombs, and the frantic pace of the camera. All the while, Bichan speaks to how futile their attempts to stop the Sith are with the Statues revealing the interconnecting nature between the Light and Dark Sides of the Force.

A major theme in this short is the cycle of Star Wars. We all know the usual story: Jedi vs Sith. A cycle between the two brings chaos and death across the galaxy. It's a seemingly never-ending conflict as the representation between the Light and Dark Sides of the Force clash. Ara's drive is the belief that destroying the Dark Head would finally end this seemingly eternal cycle. However, just as she's finally about to bring an end, both heads illuminate both light and dark. The Light and Dark Sides of the Force, for better or worse, are forever interconnected. With this realization, she sees Bichan incapacitating Toul with his chain...and realizing she's the third figure in the vision. Not wasting a moment after realizing this, she redirects her bombs to Bichan who uses the Force to send them into the air...which Ara activates them to clear the skies. All the while, Toul realizes why the Master sent him there as his mental Light Side self smiles at his Dark Side self. He realizes there is nothing to be scared and he has to find peace to overcome the darkness inside him. With the light from the bombs blinding Bichan, Toul uses this chance to kill Bichan. I think as Toul fell from the Statues, he made peace himself with a possible death...until Ara calls out and in a beautifully animated sequence saves him as the two parachuted down.

For a while, after they landed safely back at the seemingly abandoned temple, Ara gives into despair and cynicism much like the viewpoints of Kreia and Baylan Sköll about the pointlessness of trying to stop the darkness. However, Toul makes a beautiful point against such despair and cynicism, showcasing his redeveloped idealism and hope. Even if the cycle is seemingly destined to carry on forever, the future is uncertain, and there is always a chance to challenge destiny. Even if the cycle continues again, there will be even more beings with the spark of hope to carry that on. As Snoke once said in The Last Jedi,

"Darkness rises, and light to meet it." Snoke

Toul points out how they both needed this mission to finally see that and Ara has a spark of genuine hope come back as she decides to continue the fight with Toul...with a little banter about Ara's crashed ship with whose fault it was. One can imagine how far their friendship will go in their fights against the Sith.

A story about two beings trying to find hope in a seemingly never-ending conflict. It's fascinating to explore the side where it's acknowledged how the cycle of Star Wars can wear down on people. Yet we see why they should never stop fighting for what's right and good despite the possibility of the cycle restarting again.

As this short ends, I get so much happiness seeing a story ripe with potential for more. I really wish we get to see a show following Ara and Toul. Even the creators stated that they had a lot of ideas that could be used in a show based on the short. Ideas such as diving more into the pasts and histories of Ara, Toul, Dolgarak, and even Bichan. Give us that 13-episode series Lucasfilm! Otherwise, this was the best short for me in Visions S2.

Note: The score in this short by Lee Byung Hoon was great! Korean traditional instruments were used in the score which made this short stand out among the other Vision scores.

"You know, we make a pretty good team." Ara

"Let's get back to continue this fight. But we're gonna need a new ship, since you kind of crashed our last one, pilot." Taul

"Uh, what? Are you serious? Well, I wasn't the one who crashed the speeder. That's on you, Jedi. So, I'd say we're even." Ara

"Are you kidding? Crashing a ship is so much worse." Taul

"Oh, for what it's worth, you've definitely destroyed any illusions I had about the mighty Jedi." Ara

[aventvrina]

@zorkaya

Hell is preferable to Nihility.

Aventurine has known fear all of his life, it has always been there with him, whether for the Katicans, whether for the people in black, whether for the rain. Fear follows wherever he goes as a silent companion reminding him of his true self. The ever trembling hidden hand being the only proof it lives within him at all, and yet. Yet after all this time, all these years getting acquainted with it's dread, Aventurine finds that he has not known true fear before Nihility.

It's paradoxical, how nothing could be so terrifying to he point he's rendered motionless. He can't even blame it on himself, usually, there would be a voice taunting, wondering if this is the true end. However, IX is a glutton, THEY eat indiscriminately, silently devouring away whatever is present on their plate. Apparently the voices went first, or maybe they never went. Maybe they didn't realize he is close to dying as his feet grow numb, followed by his legs, he only knows he still has them as he was still walking.

Or was he? It was hard to tell.

The bottomless mirror gives no answers. Maybe he has reached and went beyond the shadow, maybe he never left the spot Acheron had left him. The only thing that shows that any time has passed at all is what remains of his cornerstone, slowly being rendered to fine sand, leaving an unseen trail that's washed by the tide.

He feels forgotten, even by death itself. Perhaps he is dead already and he's simply unaware.

But no, he can't be. The tremor of his hands, the cold sinking feeling on his stomach. He can feel it, he feels it leaving him, but he can feel it.

Aventurine collapses to his knees and neither that has him feel nothing. No pain, no cold, nothing. And it's terrifying.

He thinks, as he tries to take his gloves off to feel the water, that this might be truly be the end. Alone, forgotten, unaware of being devoured of self. He thinks of his mother, his sister, he thinks of all the people he has ever come across, foe or friend, all those who have met their end and he wishes he were like them.

He wishes he could scream in someone's arms like his mother, wishes he could pray for someone's safety like his sister, wishes he could beg, crawl miserably for what little life was left like the slave master had. He wishes he could feel something, anything that would tell him that he is dying, that he exists and he is dying.

Water passes through his fingers like air and he quivers, he can't hear his breath, rapid, shaken, nothing but silence fills his ears. This is it. This is how he goes.

In that moment the image of his bodyguard comes to mind. Zarina should still be at the Reverie waiting for him. She's probably unaware of his plight, after all, she had been adamant of protecting him from outside of the dream, and he had kept the details of his plan from her. He knew she would have interfered should she know he was planning to stake his life like this. He laughs, or did he? He can't really tell.

All this time he had thought of her as a nuisance for being so strict about his protection. Forcing him to adapt more than reasonable just to take his own safety into account. And now, that he's left at Nihility's mercy, he finally feels the need to call for her. And maybe he did, maybe he's yelling her name out, maybe he's whispering it. Maybe it's all just in his head.

But the sentiment stands, that he feels betrayed. She had vowed to be at his service, a shadow, his sword and shield, the one thing that had become so consistent in his life to the point that he's left to feel deceived now that she's not there. Logically, he knows it's not her fault. And yet, he selfishly wants to curse her for failing her oath. He is dying and she's not there to save him. He is dying and she'll forget him. Move onto another stoneheart with more potential. Maybe she'll finally swear her loyalty to Topaz, she had always mentioned she saw great ambition in her.

And him? Well, he wishes for the rain instead of the silent sun. But one can never chose their death. So he sits there, glaring at the black eye that'll never see him but devours him without knowing. Left and forgotten.

[stripedtabbycat]

finished the hitchhiker's guide books! final thoughts:

totally get what adams meant by being in a bad place when he wrote the last book because whoof that ending. that said i think if this is the final book it's not entirely unfitting to have it end with this kind of nihilism with jokes. at times like these all you can do is laugh

however it is especially jarring when the second-to-last book is almost unusually optimistic and lighthearted. book 4 is almost something like a breather episode in the midst of all the "everything happens so much" of the rest of the series.

book 4 contains a chapter ruminating on the fact that if you write a character who does not show any particular interest in sex or romance, readers will respond to them by basically saying "wtf is this guy's deal?" and be unable to get their minds off the subject. if you don't care about that and skip to the end as suggested, though, aroace arthur dent can still win

that said i actually do really like fenchurch and her and arthur's relationship. it was really sweet and i'm sad she doesn't get to show up again. i wasn't expecting to be invested in the romance plot in this book but it was good!

adams miiiight be one of those male authors who doesn't really know what to do with his female characters, as evidenced by trillian not getting much of anything to do in the first two books and kind of completely changing her characterization during her appearances in the last few. i like her saving the day in book 3 and i think she's probably the most interesting in book 5, with the two converging versions of herself and all, even though she also doesn't get much to do after a certain point.

i also like random. she's a surprisingly well-written teenager for her relatively small page time and i also wish we got to spend more time with her. sadly we will never have a sixth book so we can't (yeah, i am of the opinion that officially published fanfics written after the literal death of the author don't count)

"young zaphod plays it safe" was a fun story to tide one over between installments but when i finished i was feeling like there was some kind of point i wasn't getting. turns out that point was that the clone that was sent to earth who was dangerous because they could be allowed to get away with anything was implied to be ronald reagan and this was much more explicit in earlier versions

given the author's open admission of rewriting canon in every version and the books often contradicting each other (not too blatantly as far as i could tell though), it's probably true that there are multiple canon reasons for why the earth was destroyed. i think they can all be true at once even within one canon.

the humor remains very consistently good throughout the series, with ever-prescient bits about technological inefficiency and politics. my hot take is that the guide mk. ii is like previously reliable search engines pushing ai shit as "the future"

i'm realizing my version of the books is probably the us edition because of the use of "belgium" instead of "fuck" in book 3. does anyone know why they were required to censor this because as far as i know you were absolutely allowed to swear in books in the 1980s. yes the belgium bit is funny but i was not previously aware of any mpaa-like censorship guidelines in publishing back then. each subsequent book has i think one uncensored f-bomb ("does he not, to put it in a nutshell, fuck?" being particularly memorable) so whatever it was they got over it. apparently

i think some people on here would be very taken with the idea of someone on whom it is perpetually raining not because the rain gods hate them but because the rain loves them, and who has become an actual rain god because of this

i also wonder if the world had become more open to believing in unnatural phenomena such as the above after the near-apocalypse resulted in our world merging with a parallel one, but i may be overthinking a series that runs on jokes

[zorkaya-moved]

　What dragged him to her truly was just a whim of his capricious heart, yet when has he ever cared for awaiting proper occasions to indulge?

　Never in his life, and much less when finding her so delightful today; with the sunlight reflecting on her silver hair and moon-kissed skin, her gilded gaze alluring as it was dangerous, making him feel like he was about to steal a well-guarded golden treasure the moment he stepped closer to her and took her hand on him, offering a small gentleman bow of his head in salutation, as he placed a kiss against the back of her palm.

　"―Care to indulge me in a dance, Miss Zarina?" A lopsided smile curled on his lips as he drew closer to her, watching her features in close inspection.

　"It has been quite a while since we've seen each other, don't you think? May as well indulge in something small for a start, then we can move onto something more intense." A spar? A makeout session? He's all for going with the flow of their reencounter.

@narvvhal

Capricious heart, you’ve always been the ocean’s strongest will. 

Zarina feared the ocean, the depth of abyssal seas and the drowning within the cold waters of Snezhnaya. Under the icy water, losing yourself was an easy danger to encounter. But she finds the ocean within him - as dangerous and unpredictable in his evolution - to be a pleasant one, the tides that kissed her with fervency when she expected him to drown her. They should be enemies, they should continue to fight against each other for she is a rebel and he is a young lord. But maybe, just maybe, in a world more wonderful they’re happy and dancing on the wintertide’s festival together with their families cheering for them and enjoying a wonderful dinner together in front of a bright flame of warmth and tenderness. In another world, more perfect than this, they could’ve been dressed in Snezhnayan clothes, so colorful in their flowery and wintry patterns, 

Perhaps, he drowns her to the point of her thinking such silly thoughts. A dream that pains, a dream that hurts, a dream that can never be fulfilled. He drowns her but she finds herself learning how to swim better and better, she learns what to expect and the ocean no longer becomes unpredictable and vicious against her fears. Zarina, instead, finds herself squeezing his hand without much thought as her lips curl into a familiar smile of mirth and playfulness, indulgence will help to dry off the tides touch as it beckoned her before with sweet dreams. She’ll have him now, as she always did, and it will be better than anything imagination can grant her. 

Because here, he takes her hand and brings her closer. The way he looks at her, says her name, indulges herself as much as he indulges in her company on his own. They don’t say a word of feelings, they let their actions play it off and their natural chemistry swirls in a dance between borders of life and death. With that in mind, the woman who bears the name of a hawk hums, pleased, not stepping away but letting him bring her closer. Surprisingly obedient in his hold, she places her free hand on his shoulder and tilts her head to the side. 

“You’ve missed me,” she doesn’t ask but states, there is a subtle teasing adoration in her words. How cruel fate is to them, isn’t it? To have such a perfect combination be someday wasted on the bloodshed, the field, and the blades crossed. (Spill my blood and warm your body with it at the end, so I’ll haunt you until the end of your time.) “I adore your honesty, and so, I will accept to have a dance with you.”

Her confidence shows its fangs once more as she tugs him to turn in a dance, not wasting time to let the lack of music bother them. They know dances, they know music by heart, they know the customs of festivals that bid farewell to winter and embrace spring’s joyful events. They call spring the season of love, but does it matter when winter has been everything they’ve known the best and found fire of passionate exchange within the deepest parts of snowy plains? Metaphorically speaking, of course, for he is water and she is ice. 

At his latest words, the passion promised, she laughs from the heart. Surprisingly bright in her laughter as she smiles at him, interest piqued as she knows his touch will always make her feel the warmth she craves so greedily. How cruel he is to be the only one to satisfy her wishes, to satiate the hunger, to claim the place within her mind and seemingly heart. 

(Why could we not have met sooner?) Melancholy is repressed by her bringing him closer and kissing him without saying a word. A kiss so sweet and so missed, a reunion promised long ago. She won’t die if it is not by his sword, she won’t die because she gave an oath to him. An oath when he slept so deeply by her side, her fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, golden eyes memorizing his face and wondering if she’d gone mad. Perhaps she did, but madness fuels the rebel, always. And in this madness, she’ll make her kiss be known as the one of familiar longing. 

I missed you too, her kiss says. 

And when she distances herself from him, her golden eyes shine with the light of sun above them. The green grass and the blue sky, it’s almost perfect. Not Snezhnaya, but it’s a fantastic dance to be promised. And then, they’ll unleash their weapons as they do, to reunite their iron in another dance that captures hearts of warriors and survivors. And then, after that, their kiss will be shared once more with a hint of copper on the tips of their tongues for a moment before another passion will return to claim their minds. A cycle, a circle of familiar events. 

“I’ll give you everything, and I’ll take everything you have,” her words are akin to velvet, a note of her voice dropping into a hushed whisper for him to hear only. An intimate secret they don’t care to hide, not really. “But for now, a dance it is. And after, the rest will come, my spear missed clashing with your blades. I've missed the sound of our battle.” 

It wouldn't be that bad to drown in him every time. She may fear the ocean’s cold hands, but drowning in Ayaks’ presence almost feels cathartic. In this ocean bearing his true name, she’ll drown endlessly.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT 28

✨GT Stands for Grim Tidings✨

This is

This is the one where they get back to Earth.  Pan immediately acts like a bigger shithead than she was when they left, demanding full credit for retrieving all seven Dragon Balls, and getting very testy when anyone tries to thank Goku instead.

Let’s just get this out of the way...

✨Is this episode worse than “The Roaming Lake”?✨

Yes, it is.  The current score is GT - 0, TRL - 28.

The problem here is that the audience already knows about Baby’s invasion and his “Tuffleization” plan.  The GT crew does not know, and this episode is all about them finding out the hard way.  And yet, this episode is structured in such a way that it presents the Tuffleized Earth like some sort of shocking twist.  Well why would it be?  Baby took control of Goten, Gohan, and Vegeta in no time flat.  Who would be left to stop him?

So you constantly get scenes like this one, where the corrupted characters wait for the GT crew to leave, and then they do bad guy smirk and talk about Baby-sama. 

The only ones left appear to be Majin Buu and Mr. Satan.  Satan noticed something was wrong about two months earlier, so he asked Buu to protect him by letting him chill out in one of these gross pods that Super Buu used to use.  As for Buu himself, he recalls that Baby put something inside his body, but he didn’t like the taste, so he enveloped it in his flesh to prevent it from hatching.  As he discusses this, he spits it out. 

As for the rest of the populace, they’re all controlled, and apparently they know that Mr. Satan isn’t one of them, so a bunch of them have gathered outside his home brandishing sticks.  At one point, Satan steps out of Buu’s body to clobber them, which I don’t understand, because there’s no one left for him to impress.  The mob just gets right back up anyway, indicating that Baby’s eggs have made them physically stronger.

Trunks goes home, and Baby (still in Vegeta’s body) makes himself look and sound like Vegeta to welcome him back. Then a few minutes later, he changes back to his Tuffleized appearance to make the big reveal.  Why?  Baby also explains the whole egg deal to Trunks, and since Baby had briefly possessed Trunks’ body back in episode 24, that means there’s been one of Baby’s eggs inside Trunks this whole time.  Baby just hasn’t bothered to activate it until now, presumably because he didn’t want to risk tipping off Goku and Pan about his plan. 

Totally Not Mark did a whole review of the GT series on YouTube, and when he got to this part, he seemed very impressed by this part, like it was some brilliant plot twist.  I got to the point where I wondered if I had misremembered something about this, but no.  Baby didn’t pretend to get driven out of Trunks’ body in Episode 24.  He admits that he wasn’t strong enough to control Trunks back then.  But he also explained in Episode 27 that he always lays eggs in anyone he possesses.  So this reveal in Episode 28 is just paying off that idea.  If anyone was wondering if Trunks was already compromised, here’s your answer. But it doesn’t actually matter, because Baby could easily put an egg in Trunks right now if he needed to.  So this is just a little continuity, not a shocking twist. 

Goku and Pan return home to find the same predicament, but it takes longer for some reason.  Chi-Chi and Pan are making dinner, and they give Goku and Pan a very chilly reception, and finally Goten and Gohan show up and start attacking them.  Goku has no idea what’s going on, until Buu and Mr. Satan show up and explain it all to him.  And that’s how the episode ends.  The whole runtime is devoted to this agonizingly slow reveal of a situation the audience already knows about.  And that’s why it’s worse than “The Roaming Lake”. 

Now, to be fair, they had to clue in the GT crew somehow.  If this wasn’t the way to do it, then what should they have done instead?  Good question.  Let’s take a look at the episode this one is trying to imitate:  Dragon Ball Z 109.

All right, so that episode starts by showing all the characters behaving normally.  They’re having a party at Roshi’s house, Chi-Chi is upset about Gohan sneaking out to join them, and then she tries to fight Maron for calling her old.  

Then the Black Water Mist rolls in... Krillin, Gohan, and Maron were spared from its effects, but they also don’t know what happened, so when they come ashore to meet the others, they find...

...Everyone has changed.  Dramatically.  The others glare at them like wild animals, and Chi-Chi starts trying to murder her own son. 

This episode already gave us a little taste of this earlier on, when a little girl’s eyes turned red and she hissed at the audience, and when Gohan and Icarus noticed all the forest animals were attacking them for no reason.  But it really doesn’t hit home until you see how it changed the characters we know.  It’s like theyve been reduced to primitive beasts, until...

... Garlic Junior’s henchmen show up to gloat, and all of the infected characters stop what they’re doing and bow down before the henchmen with great reverence.  The bad guys explain how they all serve Garlic Junior now, but that doesn’t do justice to what we’ve just witnessed.  You see how profoundly the characters have changed, and you’re like “What the fuck has Garlic Junior done to them?”

Now, the point I’m making here isn’t that Baby’s Tuffleization isn’t as dramatic as the Black Water Mist.  I’m saying that the reveal was handled better in DBZ, because we got to experience it along with the heroes. 

We’ve been seeing Goten make this shitty little bad guy smirk for the last two episodes.  We already know what Baby’s power has done to him.  We saw it in Episode 26, and it wasn’t exactly newsworthy then, because everyone Baby possessed on Pital had the same expression.  By the time Goku and Pan find out, it’s ancient history, but this episode insists that we ssslllloooowwllllyyy reveal it all over again, just to get their reaction.  Well, Pan is horrified and Goku is outraged.  What else is there to say?

Looking at those stills from DBZ 109 has ticked me off all over again, because it’s so much more effective.  And it’s all because they covered the whole thing in one episode.  GT tried to drag this out across four.  Let that sink in.  The Baby Saga is widely regarded as the best part of GT.  The Garlic Junior Saga is considered to be the low point of DBZ.  And yet GT’s best is nothing more than a pale copy of Z’s worst, at one-quarter of the speed. 

✨"Good” “Ideas”, Poorly Executed✨

Oh, but we’re not done tearing  this episode a new one.  No, we have to talk about the Black Star Dragon Balls. 

 I’ve already explained this, but just to recap: The intergalactic hunt for Dragon Balls was the original premise for GT, but by the third episode, everyone at Toei realized it sucked ass, so they started changing course to the DBZ-Lite formula we have now. The problem is that they couldn’t just handwave the problem posed by the Black Star Dragon Balls.  In Episode 1, Pilaf wished for Goku to be a child again, and then the Balls scatterd across the universe, and according to King Kai the Earth would explode in one year unless they were brought back. 

So that’s why we just now got Goku and the others back to Earth, because they still had to show them getting the last few BS Dragon Balls to close up that plotline.  However, it was also strongly implied that this quest was also about restoring Goku back to his normal adult body.  Pan even brings it up in this episode.  She seems to have believed this whole time that once they returned to Earth, Goku would use the BS Dragon Balls to undo the previous wish.

Except Goku can’t do that, because that would mean scattering the BS Dragon Balls all over again, which would mean another trip into outer space to collect them a second time.  It’s not worth the risk, so Goku’s not going to bother.  Pan is frustrated by this, but she’s about to have a lot of worse things to worry about than being taller than her grandfather. 

The thing is, why does everyone just assume that Goku can only be restored using the Black Star Dragon Balls?  They have another set on Earth, and a third set on Namek.  I get that the BS Dragon Balls are supposed to be more powerful somehow, so maybe Pan’s right, and this is the only way, but no one has even tried to use the regular Dragon Balls to solve their problems.  Some wishes that might have helped:

1) Shenron, please make Goku an adult!

2) Shenron, I wish for you to gather up all of the Black Star Dragon Balls, which have scattered across the universe!

3) Shenron, please tell us where the Black Star Dragon Balls are located.

4) Shenron, is there another way to prevent the Black Star Dragon Balls from destroying the earth?

I’m not saying Regular Shenron would have been able to grant any of these wishes, but the fact that no one even asks is what makes me nuts.  Shenron couldn’t defeat the Saiyans or resurrect Goku a second time, but they still asked anyway, just in case he could. 

But even if Pan’s right, and wishes on the BS Dragon Balls can only be undone by a second wish on the BS Dragon Balls, how does that even make sense?  By that logic, Krillin should have become immortal after Shenron revived him the first time, because only a second wish could cancel the wish to make him alive. 

✨Positivity Page✨

About the only credit I can give to this episode is for the part where Giru gets totally deconstructed by Baby.  He tries to warn Trunks about impending danger, except “Danger!” is Giru’s catchphrase, so Trunks just assumes Giru is intimidated by Trunks’ dad.  Nice little boy-who-cried-wolf moment for Giru.  The one time there’s actually danger, no one listens to him.

Then he tries to shoot Baby with missiles, and it doesn’t work at all.  Why didn’t he just turn Baby into metal with that doohickey he stole from M2?  Because M2 makes no fucking sense, just like Giru, who was born there. 

Then Baby recognizes Giru as one of Dr. Mu’s henchmen, and blames Giru for ruining all his plans, but he admits that Giru’s interference did put Baby into contact with the Saiyans, allowing him to fulfill his true agenda.  In other words, everything that’s gone wrong here is all Giru’s fault, and he’s a piece of shit.  Baby zaps him, enough to frighten Trunks, but not enough to kill Giru, because this show won’t let me have even one tiny concession.  But at least Giru gets to live with the guilt. 

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Smirking at ballsacks.

That’s what Tuffleization’s

All about, Dende.

[imperatorisaureinova]

FTF thoughts

hookay FTF thoughts here we go! It's long so it's under a read more hah! There are parts about FTF I liked but a lot...also not really. I will say as a disclaimer I do understand that due Disney cutting the show things changed and things that were planned or set up had to be altered or dropped entirely. But there are so many choices in terms of writting and some personal biases from the crew that really just make me wonder "BUT WHY" Philip! Augh again an episode where he spends doing....nothing. Though this is more a general complaint of mine in the series over all esp now I've watched trough toh a couple times is that as a villain Philip doesn't really do all that much. Anything intresting he does do is either cut short, or we only learn about it via flashbacks/background info. I know Dana said she hates writing him and it shows! Which is honestly a shame because even if you dislike him, he's not just a cut and dry villain there's a lot of substance to him. And it's really sad to watch that go to waste.

I DID like the scene with Ghost Caleb, I had theorized for a long time that he was being haunted by the ghost of his brother/previous GGs and it's nice to see I was correct about that. And him saying "Oh, shut up." to them was funny, AND I WAS RIGHT ABOUT HIM HAVING ONE FINAL GRIMWALKER, but sadly much like anything intresting it wasn't meant to be. And now he's possesing Raine.

Which I apolgize for anyone who likes Raine, I really don't. And I'm sad that I don't but Raine just has such little substance, take away the fact they're Eda's ex and...there's not a lot there. Now of course Raine isn't the only character who suffers from this issue but Raine is more in your face because being Eda's ex means they're supposed to be more revelant but there's just not a whole lot there. Raine roleplayers I beg of you, PLEASE help me like Raine! I know they have potential but the show will not provide!

And to close my thoughts off on Philip so far, I'm sad they're just having him do the same thing, all signs point to him going to restart the draining spell, which kinda makes the whole DOU thing feel pretty moot. Sadly the way things are just makes so that there is just not a lot they can do with him in general. I've been expecting him to die by the end of the show since Hollow Mind and I figured he was going to kick the bucket by the end of King's tide so they could give all the attention to the collector (we'll get to him next). But guess he'll still be there for the finale. Regardless RIP Philip Wittebane, you were a great villain but you wound up being wasted.

Now onto The Collector....

Oh boy. Now given he was included because of the cut I was already a little iffy on him since Philip WAS already a great villain for the show, but ok fine, lets see what they'll do with him.

OOF. They pretty much declawed him instantly, compare to how TC acts in season 2 vs how he is in FTF. We got some intresting tidbits such as the collectors having been an entire species, who as their name suggests collect. But if something prevents them from collecting they'd go nuclear and kill everything, except we are shown TC doesn't like this. Which honestly is stupid as hell given HE LITTERALLY HELPED PHILIP TO PLOT GENOCIDE, but no, he gets excused of that because he's "uwu baby" ugh. I am willing to bet that the collector who caught the owl beast will be a different collector and not the one we know (it was a nice nod to see the Owl beast act up when seeing the collector, poor creature was tortured basically)

I also wasn't impressed by the Weirdmageddon but watered down. (The bit with Terra was funny) And Odalia...well she's there...yay? They said they were going to go ham,but fail at going ham F

So The collector so far is just a watered down Bill Chiper and not even a good one at that.

Huntlow, fucking hate it, sorry not sorry. As a trauma survivor I'm honestly so tired of the trope that we need romance to be "fixed" I don't give a shit if "Plus sized girls should see they can get the hot guy too" as a plus sized person, there are different ways they could've done that. Body positivity is important yes but this isn't the way to do it. Did we really need half the episode spend on Boscha and Kikimora? I don’t think so Stringbean? Her design is hella adorable but her being a “shifter” just feels like fan service to me, since many people have been speculating what her palisman was going to be Dana just said “Oh, she’ll be ALL the things so nobody is wrong” they should’ve just been her base snake form. woof, I really don’t want to be so negative but it’s hard to ignore bad writing when I see it, to quote what someone said in my discord server “So far, TTT and FTF really just feel like nothing more than afterthoughts” and honestly, I agree. I will be excited to watch the Finale in April (provided Itunes doesn’t fucking leak it again) but my hopes are all but gone, I don’t have much if any expectations