#“Assuming all but we see and seem is not just a dream within a dream” is an important axiom in the empirical sciences

[21st-century-minutiae]

An axiom is a statement that is presumed to be true without debate for the purpose of further discussion. It is related to a "premise" which is also a statement that is assumed to be true for the purpose of a logical argument. However, axioms imply a level of rigor and non-controversy, and are generally standardized, while a premise can be any non contradictory statement, such as a hypothetical.

For example, Euclid's first postulate "a straight line can be drawn between any two non-coincidental points" is well accepted as an axiom, while a statement like "suppose you had a society where all members were really bad at dancing" is a non-axiomatic premise. Both of these statements can be used in formal logic without issue, but the former has a rigor and history to it, allowing it to be an axiom.

Notably, 'axioms' are not 'true' statements. They are useful statements that have useful implications. But it is possible to have contradictory axioms, as long as they are not used in the same argument. For example, Euclid's Fifth Postulate, the Parallel Line Postulate (which essentially states the non parallel lines will intersect on one specific point on on side side and parallel lines will never intersect) is quite useful for working with geometry, but it is blatantly false when talking about the geometry of a surface of a sphere.

In early twenty-first century mathematical proofs, it is standard to exhaustively list which axioms a given proof is using. These are the only premises that are permitted in the argument. Everything else must be derived from the premises and logical forms. It is common to have a shorthand for common sets of axioms. For example, in Set Theory, "ZF" is used to refer to a set well-understood axioms (excluding the controversial "Axiom of Choice"), while ZFC is used to refer to that same set, including the Axiom of Choice. As such, a Set Theorist only needs to include those two or three letters at the start of their proof to signify what system they are working on.

The fundamental nature of epistemology is infinitely regressive. At some point statements must be made without proof in order to do logic at all, and these statements must be accepted without controversy for the purpose of the argument. Ultimately, all mathematical proofs come down to either tautology, or the form "If X, then Y." "Y" can never be reached directly. And we use axioms or premises in the place of 'X.'

Axioms are kinda goofy imo, just imagine having to specify basic assumptions for your experiments in any other field of science.

"Yes, the animals used were made of bone and flesh when we tested on them"

"The electrons will have to be negatively charged and the positrons positively charged"

"these stones.... are not rocks, maybe"

[wileycap]

Crackfic Idea:

30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.

Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.

ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!

AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?

ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?

AANG: Um... this is the-

SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!

KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.

ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.

AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!

ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...

AANG: Well, I-

SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!

Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.

ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?

IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.

ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...

IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.

ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.

IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.

The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.

SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.

ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.

SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.

As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.

[avocad1s]

The Gnosis Can Wait

Requested By: No one. Original work.

CW: 5.0 spoilers below this line!!! 5.0 spoilers below this line! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

Summary: After his battle with Mavuika, Capitano was left injured. He retreats wanting to replan his strategy when he runs into you, the Creator, who had just descended to Teyvat.

Note: So how are you all liking Natlan? As of right now I think it’s okay only because I want to return to Fontaine 😞

Capitano wasn’t used to the taste of defeat.

As number one in the Fatui harbingers and the strongest amongst them no doubt, he is used to winning every match he partakes in. Or for his opponents to concede before the battle even begins.

Yet he doesn’t take it to heart, he knows the outcomes of every battle can differ in many different ways and he isn’t arrogant about his strength.

Mavuika was a God after all. Even though his power rivals hers, he knew he would have to best her with a foolproof strategy and it seemed barging in wasn’t the right one. She was a worthy opponent.

Capitano returns to his camp, the pain in his chest still burning from the small wound Mavuika left on him. He can wait, once his wound heals then he will strike her again, only this time he won’t miss. At least he has an ally in his pocket keeping him up to date on all the politics within Natlan.

“My lord,” Capitano’s right hand, Rezanov begins while bowing. “We found footprints nearby. We believe someone might stumble into camp soon…”

Capitano lets out a sigh underneath his mask, “how many people?”

“We believe only one, there’s only one track of footprints.”

Only one person? Nothing really to worry about. Unless this person is returning to tell the Archon his location.

“Find them and bring them here.” He orders and Rezanov nods and quickly takes off.

———

Okay… don’t freak out. Don’t freak out…

You just woke up in Genshin Impact.

You remember waiting impatiently by your PC for the newest update to the game, but you must’ve fallen asleep while waiting. Now you were dreaming about the it? Jeez, even in your own dreams you thought about the game. You really needed to touch grass. (lol jk jk luv you all)

You were dreaming about Natlan… a nation that you haven’t even played yet. You couldn’t have had a dream about your favorite nation? Or meeting all your favorite characters?

But everything felt so real. Even after watching the trailer and the leaks you’ve seen online, there’s no way you could know such detail about the nation. Maybe it was just your mind filling in the gaps…

“Stop right there!”

You turn around and your blood runs immediately cold. It was two fatui skirmishers and one fatui agent. You don’t even know the amount of times you’ve killed these enemies for their drops or just for the fun of it.

So this is how you die… at least this is better than falling into the claws of Childe, who you’d beat up anytime you built a new character.

“Our lord the Captain will deal with you, come with us with no fight.”

Scratch that. This was much, much worse…

“Wait… isn’t that…?” One of them whispered.

They put down their weapons, looks of remorse on their faces.

“Your Grace… please for give our imprudence we had no idea it was you…” Rezanov. “Please come with us, the Captain would be delighted to see you.”

Right… you’ve read fanfics like this before. Believing you’re their Creator… you wonder if your blood was gold. Perhaps you could check later. For now, you were going to follow them, it’s not like Capitano has appeared in the game you can get a first time look at him.

You follow the trio deeper into the forest, a small fireplace in the distance, you could only assume the Captain would be there.

“My lord, we found who was trailing around camp. Their Grace has decided to bless us with their presence on Teyvat once more.”

Capitano turns around and say nothing for what felt like forever. Even with the helmet, you knew he was staring intently at you.

“Your Grace.” He finally says, his voice much softer than you ever expected. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

He approached, towering over you.

“You three. Fetch Their Grace some food—“ he looks down at you once more. “And a change of clothes.”

You feel embarrassment creep up your neck. What’s wrong with your pajamas? Could he tell they weren’t from this word?

He holds out his hand, and you take it being able to feel the warmth underneath the glove. This dream was much realer than you thought…

Capitano leads you to his large tent holding the flaps open so you could enter. “We weren’t expecting your arrival so I apologize for the lack of preparations…”

You shake your head, “everything is fine.” Not like you’d be here forever…

“You can have my tent You Grace, I will camp outside.” He adds.

You furrow your eyebrows, “this tent is big enough for two people, can’t we just share it?”

Capitano doesn’t say nothing for a moment, you fear you’ve might’ve offended him with your offer but it was the complete opposite. Capitano felt as if he was on top of the world, to share a camp with the Creator? To be able to protect you? To see your sleeping face…

He feels his cheeks grow crimson and he is eternally grateful for his helmet. “Of course, if that’s what you wish Your Grace…”

The flaps to the tent open and Rezanov enters the tent. “My lord, we've received word that the Pyro Archon has lost much of her power.”

“Although your injury complicates things, this is most certainly the opportune time to seize the Gnosis...”

Capitano was slightly irritated with his subordinate’s unwarranted entry but he wouldn’t do anything yet, not while you were right in front of him.

“The Gnosis can wait, we have more important matters…” he replies, his focus never leaving you.

© avocad1s 2024

Note: Capitano was the highlight of Natlan for me. Sorry but i’m a Fatui Harbinger glazer 😞 why’d they make them so fine? It’s not fair… Now here’s to hoping my man is playable, saving all my primos for him so he better not disappoint.

Edit: I know Mavuika isn’t a God but I’m thinking Capitano wouldn’t know that since she’s the only one of the Seven that isn’t a one which is where I went with this fic

[kedsandtubesocks]

cosmic love

Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

summary: a missing statue, a handsome ancient roman general, an equally handsome museum visitor - and you caught in the magical (and wonderful) mess of it all

tags & warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, MAJOR GLADIATOR 2 SPOILERS. time travel AU, magic elements, pining & yearning, fluff but with touches of angst, implied age gap (Acacius being older than both reader & Marcus), light use of gendered language, bi!Marcus Acacius & bi!Marcus Pike, brief mention of death & existential questioning, spicy themes, smut (threesome, m!oral, one moment of spitting) M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship, no use of y/n

word count: 7.5k

a/n: I’m sorry I blame the gladiator statue pics we got & yeah now here we are lmao, this fic literally wouldn’t be here without @pedgito & @perotovar - i can’t thank you two enough for all the help i love y’all tremendously, also a sweet special tag for @morallyinept ily too… And lastly - thank you for reading, you’re what makes this so special and magical ♡

The statue that arrived with the newly updated Roman exhibition at your museum has gained attention.

As a guide you enjoy seeing all the new faces here to check out the freshly opened installation. The heightened foot traffic has kept you and your co-workers busy, but it’s been a nice welcome.

Your eyes drift to the statue now.

General Marcus Acacius stands slightly weathered yet still commanding in his bronze glory, towering among the room with all the grace a powerful Roman Army commander would be.

You learned he conquered countless territories and countries in the name of the Ancient Roman Empire. Eventually though, he was caught in a conspiracy to overthrow the ruling emperors and died within the eyes of the coliseum, the whisper of a gladiator’s death.

Now you readily explain this all to tour groups like the one you currently guide.

“Oh, he’s cute.” One of the elementary school girls currently giggles to her friend. The other school children gasp around her, teasing her.

“It’s okay. He is pretty handsome, isn’t he?” You reassure her. The girl seems bashful but relieved at your agreement.

It wasn’t just you. A local internet influencer stopped by and even made a video about the statue being her dream guy.

Even as a statue, the General is eye-catching.

The bronze figure captured his likeness bewitchingly detailing the soft curls of his hair, a lovely sharp nose, mountainous strong broad shoulders, and a pensive stare looking out to a distant horizon. He’s a man of unwavering beauty.

You constantly want to smack yourself for being wistful over a piece of art.

“He’s definitely the most attractive statue I’ve seen.” A familiar smooth sweet voice melts into the room’s quiet softness making your heart jump.

Approaching you with a molten smile and eyes twinkling in the low museum lights, Marcus doesn’t seem real at times.

A regular visitor, you first met him when he accidentally crashed one of your tours. Wholesomely thoughtful, but also being a charming yet slightly know it all, he was quick to join in on commentary of the paintings. With his Disney prince-like smile and earnest eager energy, you couldn’t dare shoo him away.

Now you happily seek his company.

“He’s become like a hot new celebrity here.” Joking, you nudge towards the General’s striking figure.

“I can see why.” Marcus whistles low. “Like look at those shoulders.”

You snicker as a bubbling fondness swells in you.

“He unfortunately died a tragic death.” Marcus comments, cloudy and mournful.

“Yeah, I heard. That means this guy is a bad boy.” You nod.

Marcus snickers at your comment then playfully nudges you with his elbow.

Later, all your co-workers beg you to ask him out to coffee.

“He’s totally got the hots for you!” Your favorite co worker often tells you, but you wave her off.

Marcus is just sweet. He’s kind and considerate, engaging to all the workers here. Besides, you don’t want to assume he possibly likes you and maybe ruin the precious friendship you have with him.

However, your favorite coworker shows up a few days later with a solution for your stale love life.

With a cheeky bright grin, she hands you the cutest pink velvet pouch in the break room.

“It’s called a love wish tea.” She declares.

She grabbed a pack of them at the local occult shop after the lovely witch who owned the place swore it worked.

“It calls in your heart’s desires and hey, it worked for me! That’s why I still have a pack left over!” She proudly recommends.

You roll your eyes but appreciate the gift.

Shoving it into your bag, you don’t give it much thought.

Then the cooler cozier weather settles in, the perfect time for museum dates. Strolling along the floors keeping a watch on everyone it’s hard not to notice the intake of couples. Some are intertwined beside each other staring fondly at a painting together, while others happily take photos of the other being silly.

A taste of loneliness fills you, but gently you sweep it away focusing back on work. Especially since tonight you’ll be locking up.

Already craving some extra caffeine, you glare seeing the break room depleted of any sweet salvation.

The small velvet pink bag in your bag immediately comes to mind. And at this point you think, why not. it will at least keep you awake.

Immediately out of the pouch the tea bag releases a soothing smell, a rich floral blending with delicate touches of a fruit scent, possibly pomegranate. You’re now excited just to taste it, love wish or not.

The tea steeps in your tumbler cup allowing a faint rose color to float into your water. Of course the tea is pretty too.

And the taste? Rich, lovely and warm, like a romantic valentine-like themed drink. It doesn’t reward you with a sensation of being in love, but instead you feel at peace.

After a few sips, you return to the floor.

There, Marcus sits on one of the benches in the Roman exhibition.

Curled over a leather sketchbook, he’s every bit the personification of a scholarly beautiful artist straight out of a romance novel. His face glanced up then back down to his sketch. Diligent concentration paints over his gorgeous face.

Cautious, yet eager, you approach.

He’s sketching a portrait of the General. The sharp edges of the charcoal, the smudges meant to mimic shadows, along with capturing the striking slopes of the General’s features - it’s fantastic.

“You’re amazing!”

Your compliment causes him to jolt slightly spooked, and you rapidly apologize. Once he catches sight of you, Marcus sighs with a dreamy relieved sleepy grin.

“Just sketching, nothing too crazy.”

You take a seat besides him on the bench.

“You captured his likeness so well already.” You’re in awe at the sketch.

Marcus laughs a bit nervously. It’s hard trying not to swoon at the light rose blush coloring his cheeks. He’s stunning.

“I bet General Acacius would be flattered.” You grin then glance back to the statue.

Marcus turns to follow your sight.

“Nah, he strikes me as a big relief fan.” Marcus comments thoughtfully.

The bad art joke isn’t lost on you, and you snicker beside him. Among the giggles you catch Marcus staring at you, the softest boyish grin tugging his lips.

The world melts into a splendid focus all on him.

This isn’t good. You can’t be thinking about possibly leaning in to kiss cute visitors while you’re still on the clock.

“Hey… so I’ve been meaning to ask if maybe we could-”

His phone ringing cuts Marcus off causing you to shoot up from the bench. Jumping on the call, Marcus seems apologetic and almost sad as you wave him bye to him.

Closing time approaches. You and your co-workers do one final look around the rooms. Marcus is nowhere to be found.

The Roman exhibition now sits sleepily still.

The dim glow coats the general’s statue, a glistening chopper. Even with the chips and weathering of time, he stands glorious as you stroll closer.

He really must have been something fierce for the empire to immortalize him in such grand fashion.

“You must’ve been a pretty amazing man.” You mutter mainly to yourself, gently touching the base of the elevated display platform he rests upon.

You wish him a good night and head home. You try not to think of stunning statues or cute museum visitors.

Next morning you’re woken up by a call from work, a frantic one.

“The fucking hot ass statue is missing.” Your co-worker hisses.

You don’t believe it till you see it.

But you’re knocked breathless at the sight.

General Marcus Acacius is missing. The once grand presence he added to the room is absent, vanished, as if plucked from the air itself.

It’s almost unnerving to see the once elevated space now hauntingly vacant.

Chaos brews humming all around. Copes scurry around everywhere, and plenty of people stand outside curious to what’s going on. A controlled whirlwind fills your museum. Various officers keep the scene roped off.

The museum decides to close for the rest of the week to let the police handle as much as they can. You adore the museum truly, but there’s one spot you love the most. Right by the break room leading from various different doors is an outdoor courtyard. It’s become a place of solace.

The bubbling dread has you stepping out here one more time. The sky above looms with a cold front approaching and casts a somber shadow over the space even more.

The shrubs rustle off the side among the thick greenery, and you figure it’s a bird.

“It’s you.” Until a new voice speaks to you. Rich, heavily accented and smooth, it startles you.

You wonder if you’re imagining things.

The man is dressed in Roman attire, elaborate white armor adorned with ornate gold pieces. Glorious graying curls frame his ethereal aged face.

How did a cosplayer manage to sneak in?

He stares so directly at you it frightens you a bit.

“You’re the one who’s voice I heard…” he continues to speak. “It was like I was asleep, drifting away. Then you woke me.”

“Sir, how did you manage to get in here?” You ask, trying to stay as calm as you can.

“I do not know. I simply woke and found myself in this strange place.” He explains with a furrowed brow.

You wonder…is this a strange bit the museum is maybe trying to pull off, and they didn’t tell you.

He steps forward now, and instinctively you walk back cautious. The man must take in your reaction because his face, his handsome face that now looks vaguely familiar, frowns. He holds his hands up defensively.

“I mean no harm. I just need to know what happened to me.”

Someone calls out your name, sounds like your boss. “Come on let’s head out.”

The stranger repeats it and how smooth his voice is, your name rolls off his tongue.

“I am General Marcus Acacius, and I am in need of your assistance.”

That makes your brain scratch.

“Wait, what?” You turn to him confused. “What did you say your name was again?”

He repeats it firmer.

Marcus Acacius.

As in… General Marcus Acacius.

There’s no way.

“Oh, so you’re an actor.” You deadpan.

“I…am confused? I’m no performer. I promise you that.” He almost sounds huffy.

You gotta give him credit. The guy stays in character pretty well.

“You shouldn’t be here, actor or not.” You tell him, heading back inside. Of course this man follows you in.

At the sight of the glass door and the movement of it, he pauses stunned, like he can’t process it. You almost want to laugh.

“You’re pretty good, even though you say you’re not an actor.” You tease.

He frowns hard not enjoying that.

“Either tell me what is going on or I will find a man who will.” He snaps loud and your eyes go wide.

His memorizing face scrunches up in frustration. Dark amber eyes are coated in fierce anger.

“I wake up in a strange place filled with artifacts and see people dressed strange. What is going on?” His voice rises confused, panicking.

Either he’s the most amazing actor ever or…

No.

It can’t be.

Too many thoughts swirl in your head like angry bees trying to make your brain explode.

You need a minute. So you grab the mystery man’s arm, practically dragging him to follow you.

“Excuse you? Where are you taking me?” He demands.

“Somewhere safe.” You half lie.

Unfortunately your boss stops you. His worried eyes catch sight of the man in the armor. You’re quick to explain he’s an actor, upset about the missing statue.

“I am not a-”

You shush the strange man harshly. Your boss, hesitant and worried, surveys him.

“He shouldn’t be here.” Your boss says firm.

“Yup, and I was just showing him the way out.” You happily explain.

Thankfully your boss gets called away, and you make your escape.

“Are you abducting me?” He demands harder.

“Look, I’m the only one here who might be able to help you.” You hiss back.

“I am the commanding General of the Roman armies.” His voice blooms stronger when you reach the lobby. “I will find my way around.”

You swallow hard. A small but chaotic idea quickly jumps into your mind, and you decide to put it into action.

So, you hold the exit door open for him. The man nods to you, then strolls out. You follow him.

The towering skyscrapers, the rush of the cars, the stretching concrete roads, it becomes an overwhelming sight while the man whips his face around eyes wide and in shock. His face falls, aghast and disoriented.

That unrealistic conclusion you thought of - you think it might not be so realistic. Because the man turns to you wearing petrified horror, terrified confusion of a man in an unknown world that no actor could truly capture.

Reality smacks into you like a bag of nails.

This man is truly the great General Marcus Acacius.

The missing statue now full man summoned to life.

Someone yells your name.

Your heart drops. Of course Marcus arrives at the worst time. He jogs up to you dressed in what looks like a gym outfit.

“I heard about the statue.” He says worried then his eyes immediately grow cloudy and confused as he catches sight of the strange Roman dressed man.

“Is he… a friend of yours?” Marcus asks hesitantly.

“It’s complicated.” You blurt, panicked.

General Acacius stands still very stunned trying to take this new modern world in. Stumbling, he returns to your side, clutching your arm like you’re the only one who can steady him.

“I…” Acacius begins then stops mid word, still trying to process a reply. Until he catches sight of Marcus.

“You,” The man surveys Marcus with narrowing eyes. “You seem familiar as well.”

This is getting out of hand.

“Okay time to go.” You rapidly try diffusing the situation, moving General Acacius away from Marcus.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Marcus questions, persistently following behind while you head to the parking lot.

You scramble out a lie that the strange man is an old friend you ran into who just came back from a play.

“I told you, I’m no performer.” Acacius insists still. You also discover he’s built like a wall and trying to wrangle him into the car proves to be Herculean.

Swiftly, Marcus firmly snaps out your name. His tone is different, urgent and enforcing. It turns you into a statue yourself.

Comedically, you’re practically halfway shoving Acacius into the car but now stand frozen. He notices the shift in tension quickly.

“Are you frightened of him?” Acacius mutters concern, surprisingly concerned. “Because I can dispose of this man.”

You shake your head no.

Swallowing hard, you finally look Marcus dead in the eyes.

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” You admit.

“Try me.” Marcus rebuffs, serious as steel.

So you sigh, what more do you have to lose now?

“General, can you please tell him who you are.” You then allow Acacius to speak for himself.

The ancient Roman clears his throat and announces his full title and name. The younger and modern Marcus’s face twists confused with a hint of concern.

Suddenly his eyes go wide. He catches on fast, figures it out quicker than you did that’s for sure.

This cute casual museum visitor you have a slight crush on is now your accomplice and partner in crime.

At least…now you don't have to deal with an ancient Roman General being brought back to life from stone alone.

— °˖➴ —

Marcus’s apartment is lush and cozy, filled with so many books and records. The warm walls, sleek modern design, make your place feel like a hole in the wall. Having a roommate, you couldn’t just bring home a very confused man out of time. So thankfully Marcus offered his home.

Now you’ve practically been living here with General Acacius trying to figure out what happened.

Acacius takes things rather well, almost in stride. Fitting for a general that explored new territories and had to face the unknown chaos of war.

The fridge fascinates him the most. You had to stop yourself from laughing seeing him open and close the refrigerator door like a child wondering if the food inside would disappear.

Marcus has a vice for candy, specifically sour ones. Seeing General Acacius try one and the disgusted face of twisted torture is a memory you’ve replayed over multiple times.

But unfortunately no one can figure out what brought the statue to life and him here.

“I’m a man. Not a statue.” The roman general clarifies.

“You are now, but we gotta figure out why.” You sigh exhausted while Marcus readies breakfast for everyone.

He’s been an incredible host. It’s been hard not lingering on how domestic and warm he is within his own space.

Especially when there’s also an archaic man looking just as handsome walking around in a tight white t shirt Marcus lent him.

Surrounded by two unbelievably gorgeous men has been a double edged sword, a blessing and curse.

General Acacius reminds you of a mountain, ever powerful, sturdy and unwavering with the change of seasons. Yet there’s still an open vulnerability to him. You’ve seen it in how grateful he’s been and how eagerly he’s tried absorbing all about this new world.

Whereas Marcus reminds you of a river, beautifully flowing, always adaptable. But he surprises you with how direct and firm he’s been, almost protective in keeping you and Acacius safe.

You also don’t miss the way Marcus’s eyes sometimes flicker to sneak a glance at the older General. You can’t blame him.

Acacius fills out modern clothes sinfully. Watching him navigate everything with a certain poised grace is attractive. While Marcus has become endearing and patient, incredibly welcoming to this new hiccup in his life. You haven't felt this comfortable with someone in so long.

Truly a river and mountain now exist in your life, and you want to stay in their atmosphere more and more.

But you can’t get tangled in the budding emotions growing for these men.

You need to figure out how to help Acacius.

“Once I get back to the office, I’m hoping I can try to find something that could maybe help.” Marcus clarifies while grabbing his work bag.

You’ve learned much about him these past few days. Like he enjoys a good run, used to be a swimmer, has a soft spot for strays, surprisingly loves football -

Also that he’s a well known FBI agent.

You realized you never once asked what he did for work, and you’ve known him for months.

“You have feelings for that man.” Acacius announces once it’s you and him alone in the apartment. You almost spit out your drink.

“We’re friends, that’s all.” You huff.

This Marcus doesn’t seem to believe you, and gives you a very modern dry eyed side glare that makes you roll your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way he watches you, the look of a man in love.” Acacius continues.

“Well I see the way he stares at you too, pal.” You reply back before you can even realize what you said.

Your words do their job stunning the general.

“He is too young for an old man like me.” Acacius rapidly fires back.

“You’re not that old.” You clarify. “If anything you’re distinguished, mature.”

“You are too kind, dear lady.” He chuckles.

You ignore how fast warmth spreads through you a dangerous wildfire just hearing him.

Your phone ringing makes poor Acacius jump. Though, it’s progress from the confused shout he used to yell whenever the phones rang.

Your boss explains that unfortunately the museum will have to stay closed the rest of the month for further investigations, and everyone’s information has been sent in to check for any suspicious activities.

It sounded serious.

Dead serious because after that phone call, you get called by the police department to head in for a few questions.

You have nothing to hide, except you did.

Because in theory you technically did and didn’t steal the statue. You just know the cops wouldn’t take your explanation.

The interrogation room you sit in is coated in a bleak serious air making you fidget worried. This is also the first time you left General Acacius alone at the apartment and that worry picks at you.

Then two officers walk in. One an older distinguished woman who gives you a nod then the other… a rather striking man.

Hawkish nose, clean shaven face, kind eyes, he smiles soft at you.

Marcus.

The agent that walked in is Marcus.

You try not to stare, but it’s hard. Dressed in an official suit and tie, the badge he wears, he sits across for you a striking professional handsome agent.

The woman introduces herself as one of the head local detectives of the case and the man accompanying her is from the FBI, specifically the head of the art crimes division.

Marcus wasn’t just an agent but someone that important.

You can’t deny how extra attractive it makes him.

“Agent Marcus Pike.” Polite and sweet he outstretches his arm to shake your hand like you’ve never met him before.

The questions are very basic.

Where were you the last time you saw the statue? Do you remember any recent guest that stopped by that maybe seemed suspicious?

You answer as truthfully and as best as you can, while also hiding the ancient Roman sized man truth away.

“Funny enough,” Agent Pike comments. “It does seem like this statue just seems to have…I don’t know, grown legs and walked out itself.”

You weakly laugh at his joke. You don’t miss the tug of his lips trying not to grin.

You leave the room as if you stepped out of a strange pocket dimension. Then again these past few days have felt strange and disorienting.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the head of some FBI art division?!” You let Marcus have it when you both return back to his apartment.

“Is that dangerous?” Acacius asks curiously.

“I don’t know.” You sigh.

“No…This is good.” Marcus clarifies. He even picked up apology pastries. General Acacius greedily snags a cheese danish and moans in pure delight once he takes a bite.

It’s hard to ignore how incredibly sexy he sounded.

“It means I can keep looking in my records for any previous instances of situations like this, or if there’s any leads on the case I’ll know.” Marcus patiently explains.

That calms you enough.

Days pass, and Acacius grows restless.

He doesn’t sleep well, snapping at you and Marcus often more. He mourns the loss of a world that’s passed, of a wife he lost. The grief comes in waves. You and Marcus try comforting him, but Acacius reminds you of a caged tiger, restless and fanged. You understand. Being cooped up in a strange home in a strange world must be exhausting.

So Marcus and you agree to have a nice weekend out with him.

General Acacius fidgets in the cozy cream knit sweater that stretches over his broad body, but damn does he look incredible. So does Marcus in his scholarly sleek coat.

This trip also works as another opportunity to do more investigating. The nearby bookstore is the first stop. Acacius gasps seeing the stretch of books.

“Pretty impressive, yeah?” Marcus smirks, and you grin agreeing. He decides to take a look at the art history books here for any information he might have missed.

You unfortunately get side tracked with the many books in front of you and slightly wander away from Acacius when one catches your eyes.

But you quickly find your way back to him.

The elder Marcus stands stunned like a ghost among the classical literature holding a thick encyclopedia.

“I knew of what happened to Rome after you and Pike told me. But seeing the grand colosseum like this… it’s a specter of ruins now.” He mutters while taking in the photo of the ancient landmark.

“I am glad. There should be no need for more death matches.” His voice weighs with the heaviness of centuries past.

You agree, happy he shuts the book and returns it back. You’re about to dive into the Ancient Rome section yourself now until he speaks again.

“What if I am not the same man these books speak of?” The older Marcus questions hollowed.

That stuns you.

“What if the man who died many years ago… is not me?” His voice wavers.

Existential dread looms off him a dark storm growing stronger.

Marcus turns the corner smiling bright. But quickly he immediately notices the shift in atmosphere, and his face falls as he mouths asking what’s wrong.

You let General Acacius speak from the heart.

“What if… I am not me? What if I am not the real Marcus Acacius?”

His face is weighted with fear, raw and open making him appear lost and so small for someone powerful as him.

“I believe it’s you.” You reassure him gentle. “I’m sure Marcus does too. Besides… who says you can’t be the same man?”

There are pieces of yourself that you’ve left with people, even some bits of you have gotten snagged in certain places or tied to certain objects. Who says a piece of Marcus Acacius truly resided in the statue and simply woke up. And if that’s the case, then that means he’s as real as ever.

You explain all of this best as you can to Acacius. Those deep steady eyes of his waver transforming into molten earth. Your hand moves down to squeeze his stronger large warm hand.

He squeezes back tight.

“Besides the man that died is still you too. You’re allowed to be both.” Marcus jumps in with the most tender voice

“That does not sound true.” Acacius mutters.

As modern has he’s slowly become, you think it still might be too hard to explain dimensional or reality theory.

“This philosopher I read about once said something along the lines of, if you think, therefore you are.” Marcus clarifies. “You exist here and now. And sometimes that’s all that matters.”

You realize both you and Marcus slowly have huddled around General Acacius. You on one side and Marcus on the other, barricade to support your General as much as you or Marcus can.

Acacius sighs, watery, taking it all in.

Your heart aches for him. It overwhelms you, causing you to gently rest your head against his shoulder and letting your hand rest on his back.

Marcus also moves closer, placing his hand right besides yours, gingerly touching your hand.

Among the books you and these two rest simply in the stillness of the moment. You feel something hook deep in your chest, a feeling you can’t fully express.

After, Marcus treats everyone to his favorite taco truck. It's infectious seeing Acacius’s spirits brighten again. He again moans delicious when he takes his first bite. You don’t miss the awkward cough Marcus makes.

But the tacos are amazing and the cooler weather covers everything in a comforting dreamy cloud.

“I want to explore this world as much as I can.” Acacius declares with resolution and shining gilded hope.

So you start bringing the Roman general out with you more.

The museum is still being investigated, so you take the chance to enjoy the days, especially now with Marcus Acacius by your side. He enjoys your smaller apartment, becomes a fan of cooking shows fast.

Marcus and you discovered he isn’t big on sushi but has a notorious sweet tooth. Acacius embraces everything now with more gusto, a vibrant curiosity about many things, especially food. It’s endearing.

General Acacius also proves to be a lovely companion when you go grocery shopping.

“So many spices.” He says in awe in the aisle.

More people arrive and you try maneuvering your cart through the traffic. General Acacius catches on quick. Staying close to you, he places a comforting hand at your lower back and the other against yours in the cart. Shifting his body against yours, he’s a protective shield until you’re out of the thicket.

It sends the wildest hum of sparks throughout your body that persistently stays. Acacius stays firmly beside the rest of the trip.

For a man out of time, he’s open for conversation. The check out worker seems to blatantly ignore you while she happily and very openly flirts with him.

You don’t say much, ignoring the possessive emerald eyed sense of jealousy threatening to rise. He bids the flirty cashier a good day along with an elegant head nod. You keep quiet heading back to the car.

“That woman, she gave me a strange note with numbers on it.” General Acacius comments cautious, almost worried about what they could be.

You almost trip on the way out.

“Her number, she gave you her phone number.” You explain simply.

Of course you have to elaborate what that means and how it’s a modern way of signaling someone is attracted to you.

“Truly?” His handsome aged face scrunches up confused.

“What can I say? In any year you’re a catch.” You try not to sound wistful.

“I’m an old man not from this time. I have nothing worth for anyone to desire me.” Now he sounds dejected, somber and serious.

“Okay, besides being absolutely one of the most gorgeous men ever, you’re kind. Incredibly loyal and brave. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Earnesty floats off you.

His face drops, your words finally settling within him. The soft streams of grays in his luscious curled hair and rustic beard, the beautiful scars he wears that tell of his victories…

The statue truly was not able to capture the magnetic pull of this man.

Acacius’s eyes flicker across your face. You swear something shimmers in his deep earth eyes. His gaze flickers down for a split moment, as if he’s glancing at your lips.

Then your phone rings with a text, and you sigh.

This precious bubble you’ve been in, this newly woven existence with these two gorgeous men, is one you want to stay in forever. It’s warm, easy, and feels too nice to leave.

But work eventually crashes in.

The museum finally reopens but with the Roman exhibit closed still. The missing art has brought in more foot traffic to the museum. But what surprises you is seeing Marcus at work now while he works. You and him share sweet secret smiles to each other.

Even with work getting busy for you and him, you’ve been texting with Marcus frequently. It’s even been amusing being on the phone with him and Acacius cries out surprised hearing your voice.

Your mind drifts to them again as you daze off a bit at work.

“So, did you ever drink that tea I gave you?” Your favorite coworker asks, interrupting your daydream.

The confusion must be evident on your face.

“Ya know… the sweet love wish tea?” She grins like a pleased cat that’s about to catch a canary.

An abrupt realization barrels right into you, a fierce horned bull almost knocking you out at the knees. You can’t believe a possible magical tea maybe brought a statue to life. But with that statue now a very real ancient Roman man you’ve been harboring - anything is possible now.

“Can you tell me where the shop is that you got it?” You rapidly ask her.

Your next day off you head down there immediately, not even taking either of your Marcus boys.

The sweetest shop owner greets you warm and welcoming. You compliment her lovely silvery lavender hair.

“Oh it’s to hide the grays.” She winks, and you grin.

But the nervousness rises because you don’t even know how to approach the question you have.

“Something seems to be bothering you.” Of course she notices but speaks with a gentle tone.

Your heavy sigh must say it all. Very sweetly she pulls out a stool by the register and settles in waiting to hear your story.

Even with her welcoming smile, the hesitation pulls at you. But you manage to gently explain what happened without revealing the dizzying truth.

“So I drank the love wish tea. And something… someone I never imagined would come into my life did. So now I don’t know if there’s a way I could probably send him back to what, to where, he was.” You tell her.

The shop owner hums in deep thought, crossing her hands over her chest nodding.

“Is it a ghost? Did you call in a spirit? Are you in love with a ghost?” She asks flat out without hesitation, and you almost laugh.

She’s half right in a way.

“I’m thinking…possibly the one thing that came to mind that I would do first is to do an unbinding spell. Whatever is keeping this man here, the separation of that would be what sends him back.” She says jumping off her chair, waving at you to follow her through the shop.

You quickly scurry behind her.

Grabbing a pack of two candles, the ritual she describes is simple enough. Tying a string around the two candles, lighting them until they burn, which in the process would burn the thread, theoretically severing the tie of Acacius to this world.

“And you said it was the love wish tea you drank, yes?”

You nod, and she nods back in understanding.

“What that tea is meant to do is call in your heart’s desires, simply allow the universe to bring whatever magic it seems fit to your life…But it also isn’t doing it forcefully.” She explains.

The tea is known to work because it calls in someone who desires the same thing you do, almost like a little nudge in the matchmaking department, a magic magnet.

“It works because someone else is also receptive. But of course, there is no need to stay with whoever is brought to you.”

Her words sink into a deep corner of your heart. You wonder if that meant Marcus Acacius longed for a better future, and it’s why the tea worked on him.

Thanking her graciously, you take the candles and a few cute stickers she has by the counter.

“I hope everything works out for you, gorgeous.” Her warm smile becomes a comforting hug.

You hope so too.

But the way your stomach twists, a part of you realizes… what if you don’t want Marcus Acacius to leave?

It’s selfish - but you want this trio of you, him and Marcus Pike, to last as long as it possibly can.

Driving to Marcus’s apartment, guilt and selfishness fight each other tooth and nail. You don’t know if this unbinding spell would work, but it would be a start.

With the spare key Marcus gave you, you let yourself in.

There on the couch you catch the quickest glimpse of both men heavily making out with the elder Marcus greedily holding onto Agent Pike’s sharp jaw. You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, but the image knocks you breathless.

The younger and modern Marcus, who halfway was on the elder General’s lap immediately, bolts away as if electrocuted.

On the table, you spot two glasses of wine.

They both stare at you, caught red handed. Immediately though, you scramble out apologies.

“I should have called and-”

Marcus says your name. “It’s.. it’s okay.”

You feel so foolish right now. You didn’t even think that they had a thing, and that you were possibly the third wheel.

“I can leave. I totally understand.” You really do.

“No.” Acacius orders, saying your name, firmly shaking his head as he rises. His eyes rusted steel swords that pin you to where you stand.

“This started because of you.” He adds.

Wait.

Because of you?

“Wait, are you guys drunk?” You even voice your confusion.

Both Marcus men shake their heads no.

“We were just talking about you, about us.” The younger Marcus explains.

“And it took us some time but we both desire each other. And we both desire you.” General Acacius simply interjects, and Marcus coughs stunned.

You wonder if you’re the one who’s been brought to life in another time.

“Honey, please don’t feel pressured if you don’t feel the same.” Marcus, wonderful Marcus Pike, ever understanding and eternally good.

“I’ve liked you for so long. Even tried to ask you out a couple of times, just got a bit of cold feet. It just unfortunately took an ancient Roman to get me to finally say something.” He laughs weakly, boyishly nervous.

He’s liked you all this time.

You don’t say anything, don’t think there’s any words you can say just yet. Simply the emotions overtake you.

You head first to the younger Marcus and kiss him with a fierce tug at his shirt. He happily pulls you into him and sighs into your lips.

A soft but large hand runs up your back, and the sensation makes your body bloom.

“You both are so beautiful.” The older Marcus mutters dripping with adoration.

With a squeeze to Marcus’s shoulder and one final soft kiss, you pull away then melt into the general’s waiting arms. His mustache tickles you as his lips kiss yours, but it’s divine.

Their hands all over you touch every inch they can. You’ve never felt this desired, never been the epicenter of affection and passion like this before. You just as eagerly try grabbing at either man with as much clawed possession as you can.

They’re both yours now after all.

Tumbling into the bedroom it’s like something out of a dream, blissful and deliciously decadent, but so real with how heated your body feels.

Both men start kissing your exposed skin, with one licking at your neck from behind and the other readily nipping at your exposed chest. Your mind melts in bliss.

“Marcus,” you sigh.

You’re rewarded with two beautiful groans, different in tones it becomes a symphony you want to hear forever.

In the blurry of haze, the sticky syrupy desire, you and the younger Marcus follow each other peppering multiple kisses on Acacius’s chest as he falls onto the bed.

You and the modern Marcus work together, conquering the beautiful golden exposed landscape of Marcus Acacius’s chest. You tenderly press your lips against the various scars then happily move to kiss the younger Marcus.

The delicious sighs from General Acacius fill the room, a hypnotic soundtrack.

Soon your lips start traveling further down across his body. Your fellow lover follows your trail, kissing and kicking every inch of Acacius. You and Marcus reach his cock twitching in the loose sweatpants Acacius has grown fond of.

“Fuck.” Marcus groans as he drags the older man’s cock out.

Fuck is right. Thick, girthy and dripping already, you already ache to have him inside in any way.

“Both of you are little fiends.” The elder Marcus croaks breathless. Confidence surges in you as you lick across his length, relishing in the taste of his skin.

Marcus’s tongue also licks with you along your other lover’s cock, even moving across your tongue. The louder groans coming from General Acacius only spur you and Marcus on.

Greedily your eyes flicker up towards the towering force of a warrior. The beautiful older man’s eyes blown black, desired drenched galaxies looking down at you and Marcus like prizes he wants to conquer himself.

It makes you dizzy, completely possessed, and you kiss your way down to one of his thick large heavy balls. You tentatively lick. Acacius initially hisses until his voice melts into the loudest primal groan when you start sucking.

Your sweet Marcus immediately follows your lead, dragging his mouth down as well. You and him simply devour Acacius, licking back and forth across your lover’s balls and each other’s mouths.

Marcus quickly starts stroking your lover’s thick cock. It’s heaven being among these two, allowing yourself to get lost in the golden ecstasy.

When Acacius reaches his release you greedily lick up his cum that spilled against his skin, and he groans. Once you sit up, you reach for Marcus’s cum covered hand and begin to lick and suck his fingers clean. It’s then your sweet Marcus that suddenly grabs your mouth with the same hand, pulling your face towards his.

“Don’t swallow baby, I wanna taste.” He mutters with blazed out eyes.

Hearing that you almost come on the spot.

You sit up and slowly allow your spit and the milky cum into Marcus’s waiting mouth.

“Gods above.” The elder Marcus moans carnal.

The rest of the night consumes you in a wanton haze.

Sweaty, exhausted, but floating on a cloud, you sink into the bed with two men barricading you in their arms.

“I’m surprised you were…open to this.” You say to Acacius who chuckles a bit.

“I have loved others before, some included men. One was even a fellow General who died tragically among the same coliseum walls as I once did.” He explains gently.

You kiss his chest softly in understanding.

As you and these two lie curled into one another on Marcus’s lush bed, it’s like a new door has opened.

You and Marcus eagerly ask your General about his days in ancient Rome and his travels across the old world, about the true story of how he got his scar. Ever the steady man, Acacius answers all questions he can.

In the middle of this warm incredible double Marcus sandwich makes you giddy. But Acacius’s deep comforting lull of a voice, Marcus’s soft hands stroking your skin, create a cocoon drawing you to sleep faster than you realize.

A soft kiss comes to the top of your head.

“Rest. We will be here when you wake.”

Nodding through a yawn, you happily kiss them both goodnight. But just before you fall into the depths of sleep, you catch the two talking.

“What… will happen if I do not return to stone?” Acacius speaks first, so low and cautious you wonder if you’re dreaming already.

“I… I guess the statue will remain incomplete, stolen.” Marcus answers truthful but gentle.

A moment passes.

“What if I do not wish to return to stone?” Acacius clarifies.

You hear Marcus inhale sharp.

“I’ve longed for peaceful days away from the brutality of the frontline. And now… it’s here.”

A thick hope shines through the older Marcus’s voice, slipping past your ribs to piece your heart.

Movement shifts the bed, arms reach across for each other and seem to cage around you more.

“You’ll always have the final say. You get to make that choice. Neither of us would ever want to force you or take that away from you.” Marcus’s molten words are coated in pure understanding.

“I wish to stay here… with you and her.” Confidence, solidified resolution, radiate from the General’s voice.

The bed shifts again, and you hear them exchange the softest kiss.

“We’ll have to make sure to tell her in the morning.” The modern Marcus sighs dreamily. His hands again start rubbing your arm soothing, as if he can sense you’re fighting sleep.

“Of course. We must never forget our lady.” The older Marcus agrees.

His words along with a soft kiss to your forehead become the final push that allows sleep to settle.

— °˖➴ —

“So you’re telling me mister head of the art crimes department will be okay with a statue staying stolen and missing forever?” You smirk amused while Marcus drives down the familiar roads.

“Hey it’s no Vemeer’s Concert, but I’ll live with it.” Marcus playfully smirks and shrugs.

The investigation on General Acacius’s missing statue had run cold. There was no indication of a break in or forced exit. From the surveillance tapes, the video recordings simply shimmer, distorted for one moment, and then the statue is gone. As if it vanished into thin air.

Or is simply currently sitting in the back seat of the car taking in the world and power of a motor vehicle.

“You hear that, General? Our boy said you’re not valuable.” You tease.

“I don’t mind and I can agree.” Acacius replies bored, making you laugh. The green sweater he wears compliments him and brings out the streams of grays in his hair. You and Marcus have loved seeing him embrace modern clothing more than ever.

“That’s not what I meant.” Marcus rolls his eyes.

You snicker even more.

The occult shop arrives, and the candles feel lighter than ever in your bag, especially knowing you’re here to return them.

“Seems like you didn’t need these after all.” Your favorite lavender haired shop owner says with a coy smirk. Her eyes stay locked on your men exploring the aisles.

“A two for one deal? I'm definitely advertising that for the tea.” She adds eagerly, and you hide a laugh behind your hand.

If only you could tell her the full truth.

You return to your boys, enjoying the way Acacius seems to be a bit petrified among all of the occult objects.

“Are you sure this witchcraft is safe?” He asks worried, snd Marcus smooths by rubbing his back.

You grin.

Love, affection, might be the strangest but most beautiful magic after all.

[hotheadedhero]

Like 'em Big

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

Part 2

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

[soulofapatrick]

Nothing Changes - Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: You wake the next morning to an empty bed and panic

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: None; fluffy

Notes: I'm really sorry for writing so much Hotch, I'm rewatching criminal minds and all these story ideas for him have been on my mind

Waking up to an empty bed, I feel my heart sink as the realization hits me: Hotch isn’t lying beside me anymore. Panic flutters in my chest as my mind races through a flurry of thoughts. Of course, he left. He couldn’t stay, not without risking our jobs, our reputations, and maybe even our friendship. What if one of the team found out? What would they think of me? They’d probably assume I’m taking advantage of Hotch, especially considering it’s only been two years since Haley’s passing. The man seems to still be grieving, and here I am, complicating things even more.

The distant sound of the shower running breaks through my panic, and relief floods through me, mingling with a tinge of nervousness. Maybe he hadn’t left entirely. Maybe there’s still a chance, a hope that last night wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness, but something more. Last night was the first time we gave in to the building sexual tension between us.

His clothes are still strewn across my room, a tangible reminder of the intimacy we shared. I can’t help but replay the events of last night in my mind—the way his touch ignited a fire within me, the way his eyes held mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. The way he was so gentle yet so dominant, knowing how to work my body right.

As I slowly come to wakefulness, the sound of the shower grows louder, filling the empty space with its steady rhythm. Part of me longs to join him, to lose myself in the warmth of his embrace once more. But another part of me hesitates, afraid of what this newfound connection might mean for us both.

Before I can decide both of our phones are ringing, the shrill sound makes my head hurt and I’m groaning, burying my face in the pillow Hotch had previously slept on. The phones ring till they stop and I count to four before both start ringing again, ruining the peace this almost domestic moment.

I’m smacking the bed in faint protest before wriggling over to the nearest phone and answering, “Yeah?”

No one speaks for a second before I recognise JJ clearing her throat, “We need you in, we’ve got a case.” There’s amusement in her tone that has me frowning before my heart drops for the second time this morning.

“JJ…” I pause, swallowing thickly, “This is Hotch’s phone, isn’t it?” I groan, turning my head to look at the bedside table to see my phone sitting there, “Oh god!”

“I won’t say a word,” She pauses and I hear her stifle a small laugh, I won’t tell if you tell me all about it on girls night.”

“Deal.” I reluctantly agree before hanging up and throwing Hotch’s phone somewhere on the bed.

I climb out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin as I pad to the bathroom, wearing nothing but Hotch’s button up I throw on haphazardly, not bothering to do it up.

Hotch stands under the shower, his silhouette obscured by the mist, like a figure emerging from a dream. The gentle stream of water traces the contours of his body, sculpting shadows and highlights that accentuate every line and sinew. Droplets cling to his skin, glistening like diamonds in the soft light filtering through the steam.

His shoulders, broad and powerful, bear the weight of countless burdens, yet in this moment, they seem almost weightless, as if the water washes away the weight of the world. The water cascades over his chest, tracing the ripple of muscle, each movement a testament to strength and resilience.

His jawline is sharp, chiseled, a portrait of determination and resolve. The water courses over it, tracing the curve of his lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. There’s a vulnerability in that smile, a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade, and it steals my breath away.

His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are hidden from view, yet I can imagine them so clearly—deep pools of darkness, windows to a soul that has weathered storms and emerged unbroken. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in that moment, I feel as though I can see straight into his.

Every inch of him is a study in contrasts—the strength and vulnerability, the resilience and tenderness—all wrapped up in one beautiful, complex package. And as I watch him, bathed in the gentle embrace of the water, I feel something stir within me, something deep and unspoken.

It’s as if with each droplet that falls, my heart beats a little faster, my breath catches a little tighter. In that moment, I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for him, how every part of me longs to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and never let go.

I give in to that want, stepping towards the shower, the warm water enveloping me like a comforting embrace. With a quick motion, I shrug off his shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my skin, and I step under the water next to him. Droplets cascade over us, mingling with the steam, as I close the distance between us.

My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing lightly up his toned bicep, tracing the contours of muscle beneath his skin. A small sound escapes him, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, as he looks down to meet my gaze. His cognac eyes soften as they meet mine, warmth and affection swirling within their depths.

His hands find my hips, fingers tracing patterns against my skin, as if mapping out the curves and contours of my body. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that belies the strength of the man before me. With each caress, he stirs something deep within me, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment.

I feel a surge of longing, an ache that resonates deep within my soul, as his touch sends shivers coursing through me. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight with electricity, every sense heightened by the intensity of his presence.

And then, without hesitation, he pulls me flush against him, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. It’s a collision of desire and longing, a meeting of souls bound together by the undeniable pull of attraction. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle exploration that sets my heart ablaze.

“Can we just stay here?” I mumble, pulling away from the kiss to rest my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek. I don’t care if we’re late, if I have to dry my hair before we leave, if we miss the plane. I don’t care for anything except the safety of Hotch’s strong arms wrapped around me.

“I don’t suppose the only reason you came in was to shower with me, was it?” He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, an eyebrow raise and an amused look on his face.

“No,” I can’t help but pout, drawing a chuckle from him and he ducks down to press a kiss to my forehead, “we have a case.”

“Well,” he brushes my now wet hair from my face, “We have about an hour.”

“It takes me 45 on a good day Hotch.” I grumble and his eyes widen a little in disbelief as I’ve never told anyone where I live let alone how long it takes me to get to work until now. Until the very man I’ve been dreaming of for months is standing, very, very naked in my shower.

“Alright sweetheart, we’ll pick up some coffee on the way in.” My heart flutters at the pet name, my cheeks heating up and I’m burying my face in his muscular chest, “Sweetheart?”

“What happens when we enter the office?” I mumble against his chest.

“Nothing has to change.”

“Nothing has to change?”

“I promise”

Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka

[peyotebritta]

What are people's take on this? The pyramids in the background seem to support the Sutekh theory or are they just mountains?. Triad = Pyramids. Sue's Tech = Sutekh ( a stretch, I know but the Osirans do have advanced tech to rival the time lords). Maybe Susan is a (unwitting) servant of Sutekh like this guy in Pyramid of Mars whose face we never saw:

Looking at the promo pictures, it struck me how similar this image is to Sutekh's time corridor:

Additionally, we see this sand/dust cloud in the trailer. Sutekh wanted to turn all existence to dust:

We know an ancient evil will be awoken from within UNIT using TRIAD technology. Sutekh has been trapped since ancient antiquity but almost escaped in 1911 from a time corridor in UNIT's basement. but the Doctor forced him to age 7000s years, presumably killing him. But if not, he could certainly qualify as The One Who Waits.

We also know S Triad = TARDIS which seems to suggest time lord technology or something similar. If she used a prototype that went wrong, it could have scattered her across time without her knowing and she's experiencing her other lives as dreams.

We also have the matter of the Doctor's TARDIS acting strange, perhaps TRIAD Technology is siphoning energy or life from the Doctor's TARDIS In order to work

Additionally thoughts:

we have a new Tales of Tardis episode airing the day before the finale that will feature Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson. I'm assuming they will be in the Memory Tardis, which we know feeds on stories. which could link to the tv show / unreality theory. Is the Memory Tardis Triad Tech? Maybe she is selling it as a commercial experience to relive memories but it's a Ghost Machine Doomsday situation and she doesn't truly know what she's messing with or that her dreams are actually happening irl as a side effect of using the tech.

Empire of Death- Sutekh is the god of death

Tom Baker is the only Doctor to not appear in Tales of the TARDIS, so the new episode will likely be a Fourth Doctor story. Pyramids of Mars is my bet but are there any credible ideas?

But how to reconcile this with the 'tv show in a tv show' theory and Ruby's parentage? And this is complicated by this claim from RTD that the finale will link back to the Pertwee era, suggesting someone like Omega? Or maybe Susan worked for UNIT back in the 70s and has been building the technology for 50 years andh as only now succeeded with the influence of TOWW.

Every clue seems to raise more questions. I'd love to get people's thoughts as I may be spiraling here.

One thing I am sure of? Susan Triad is not the one in control

[ratridingaskateboard]

Tear You Apart

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader!

TW: 18+, wet dream, p in v, cursing, bdsm, sexual acts, sexual fantasies, etc.

A/N: The trigger warnings would be too long if I mentioned every sexual act ever done in this story. We would be here all day!!

Synopsis: Eddie has had a crush on Y/n since the day she stepped foot into Hawkins High School. After constantly fantasizing about her, will fantasy finally become a reality?

-

The second Y/n waltzed her way into the main hall of Hawkins High, Eddie was awe-struck. She was clad in a bleached jean jacket capped in patches and pins of metal and rock bands. Many of them Eddie hadn’t even heard of. The Black Sabbath t-shirt she wore had been ripped to shreds, showing only a tanktop underneath. Her plaid red skirt swayed as she walked and had boys and girls anticipating for a gush of wind to reveal what was hidden under that scanty piece of clothing. To no one’s surprise, within minutes of walking in she was quickly pulled into the principal’s office for dress code violations.

The hall had erupted into gossip over who this mystery girl was. No one at Hawkins had a single clue who she was or why she chose their school to be graced with her presence. Eddie had never seen anyone like her in Hawkins, if he had he would’ve known. Just seeing what she was wearing made the blood rush to his cheeks but the second he saw her patched covered jacket he was practically on his knees.

This was his chance to finally get with a girl who he shared similar interests with. Don’t get him wrong, Eddie loved getting laid no matter what type of girl it was. But most girls had little to no interest in Eddie, they just wanted to see what it was like to fuck the school freak. They didn’t complain but they didn’t speak about it either. He was, to put it simply, a conquest. Now he had the ability to be around someone who, he hoped, wouldn’t shun him away like the others.

Eddie’s friends gathered around him at his locker, passing comments about the new girl and her clothing.

“God- I hope they don’t give her a pair of pants to wear.” Gareth hissed under his breath.

“I think I saw her bra underneath her shirt” Jeff added.

“The second you guys see a girl you are like dogs! I am surrounded by barbarians!” Dustin was quick to be the voice of reason. It was hard for teenage boys to view any girl as a person much less a girl who showed a little skin.

“You’re right Dustin. Did you see her jacket? It was covered in Metal patches. She seems cool.” Eddie finally added.

“Sorry Eddie- I was a little busy looking at other pieces of clothing she was wearing.” Gareth said.

Eddie rolled his eyes. One of the things Wayne had taught Eddie once he had reached puberty was to be a gentleman. Apparently, Gareth was not given this pep talk. Obviously, Eddie was attracted to her but he had to push down the want to tear her clothes off in order to form a relationship with her.

Hours had passed and she was still no where to be seen. Eddie assumed the principal must have sent her home with the list of violations she had achieved on the first 15 minutes she was inside the school.

Lunch was no different than usual except for the extra chatter of the mysterious new girl and her fondness for revealing clothing. Eddie pushed the food around on his lunch tray, disgusted by the unknown meat with the rancid smell.

“Hey-“ A gentle hand pressed against Eddie’s shoulder. The smell of cigarettes and vanilla filled his nostrils. Eddie looked up to see his friends wide eyed, staring at this unknown figure behind him.

“I like your Dio patch. That’s my favorite album by them.”

Eddie moved his neck to look at her but he found himself too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. Instead, his eyes focused on the jacket she wore, naming each band in his head- trying to get his mind off the absolute fool he was making of himself.

Shit, her hand was still on his shoulder. His face turned to a shade of red he didn’t believe was possible to achieve unless in scorching hot weather.

“Don’t mean to be an asshole but your sewing isn’t the best.” She traced a line with her finger against the trim of the patch. Eddie could still feel the softness of her fingertips even through the denim of jacket and cotton of his shift. Suddenly, Eddie felt the warmth of her breath against his ear.

“If you ever need someone to teach you, I would love to.”

Her hand moved back to his shoulder and lightly squeezed it, sending spikes of electricity through his spine. Then, she was gone.

Eddie’s face remained just as red as before. His fellow Hellfire members tried to help him regain consciousness but Eddie remained silent. He was stunned. He had never felt so weak. She toyed with him and he didn’t even fight back. He had never felt so powerless. In most situations he had had with girls, he was the one who approached and the one who lead. But, she… she was different.

“Eddie, dude, you should probably go to the bathroom.” Jeff patted Eddie’s shoulder, finally getting his attention.

Eddie looked down to find his dick as stiff as a board in his pants. Jesus Christ, he needed to get his shit together. This girl was messing with his fucking head.

After a moment in the bathroom, Eddie was able to go about his day as normally as he could. He still stumbled whenever he thought of the softness of her hand or the smell of her perfume. But as long as he didn’t see her he was fine. Right?

After Hellfire, Eddie returned to the trailer he shared with his Uncle and plopped himself on his bed. God- was he exhausted. Didn’t know being teased by a girl would make him so tired. His eyes fluttered closed and he gave in.

“E-Eddie please,” Y/n wimpered, looking up at him with big doe eyes, her hands restrained behind her back.

“Please what?” Eddie persisted, his leg pushing in between her thighs, feeling the warmth of her.

“P-Please fuck me!” She huffed, grinding her hips against his thigh. She seemed so helpless now. Her dominance was subdued by him and she had become a mess of herself.

“How much do you want it?” Eddie whispered in her ear, her perfume smelled even stronger when he was this close to her neck.

“I-I want it so bad, Eddie! Please I’m begging you!” She wailed.

He loved seeing her like this. Fuck, it made him feel like he was gonna cum in his pants. He couldn’t make her wait any longer and neither could he.

He started to reach his hand under her shirt when-

He woke up. It was a dream. It was a fucking dream. And one thing he knew about dreams like these, they always end the same.

Eddie lifted his comforter to find his boxers covered with jizz as well as the sheets underneath him. Eddie’s face crumpled into a frown. He had to get her back for this.

-

A/N: Dont worry there will be a part two coming soon!!! Hope u enjoyed

[five-and-dimes]

Brick by Brick

Dream is not accustomed to being treated with patience.

Those who claim to love him are not shy in only loving the parts they cannot see, the parts they assume. He is cold and aloof and guarded and they do not want those parts of him but that’s okay because surely there is more underneath, surely he is hiding something better. They do not love the locked chest, they love the treasure they assume must be held within it, and they want him to give it to them right now. They fight him for it.

Don’t be so guarded, they say, and they come at him with a pickax.

Open up, they say, crowbar already jammed in a crevice.

And it is terrifying, in a way he would never admit to anyone, can barely admit to himself. He is armor and walls and closed doors and no one loves that part of him, and Dream wonders if there even is anything else, maybe that is all he is, all the way down, an empty chest, walls around a barren field, hollow armor, and it is terrifying to think of the ones he loves (love wholly, loves every part of) ripping him apart just to discover that there is nothing lovable among the rubble.

So Dream closes himself tighter, because he does not think there is a treasure inside him, and so when will they stop? They scrape and break and tear at the shell of him, and he thinks that if they do not find what they want they will just keep going- shatter the armor and then the person underneath without slowing down.

They are determined to break through his walls, even if that means breaking him in the process.

Open up, they say, and they do not knock.

Well. Hob knocks.

But Dream can’t recognize it, just hears a thud against his protections and flinches. Hob says “I think you’re lonely” but all Dream hears is “I will love you with my fists. If you loved me back you’d let me hit something soft”.

So he hits back. Lets the gates slam shut and runs and runs and runs, Hob pounding on the door behind him.

When he is trapped in Fawney Rig, it only seems to prove him right. Cut off from his power, from his home, his purpose, himself, he feels hollow. Scraped out and empty, and he holds fast against Burgess, makes his walls impenetrable even as he realizes there is nothing there to protect. He escapes and finds his home, himself, decayed and rotting and wonders if it has been like this from the beginning. He hunts down the missing pieces of himself, the fragments that feel next to nothing now, thinks that he is next to nothing, just crumbling walls and battered doors and locks damaged from all the people who would rather break them than ask for a key.

Dream sits before Hob, and feels himself settle somewhere between peace and resignation.

Still guarded. Still locked. Still hollow. Worn down and weak, one hit to his defenses and he will crumple, and no one ever hits just once.

Hob smiles at him. Hob offers him food and drink. Hob tells him of all that he has missed in the past century, laughs and gestures enthusiastically, and never once demands, never once pushes or pulls or pries and it is enough for Dream to want to weep with gratitude.

And then, to his confusion and surprise and utter awe, Hob begins to help him rebuild.

They see each other more often, their centennial pattern broken and their friendship declared. Sometimes Dream feels cracked and raw and Hob catches glimpses of his vulnerability, but instead of taking advantage of the openings, he shields them. Dream’s voice cracks when he tries to explain where he’s been, and Hob jumps to make him tea, bustling in the kitchen and chattering about nothing, still there with him but looking away while Dream pulls himself together. Dream’s eyes well with tears the first time Hob tells him he loves him, and Hob smiles and kisses his forehead, says “it’s getting late, shall we talk more tomorrow?” and lets him leave without running away. Dream’s hands shake when he tries to take his clothes off for him, and Hob kisses his fingers and wraps him in blankets until only his face is showing, laughing lightly and talking about the coldest places he’s traveled.

Dream rebuilds his walls and Hob hands him the mortar. Dream barricades the door to his heart and Hob happily sits and calls out his love from the other side.

Hob makes him feel strong. Hob loves Dream, and he loves his walls, his doors, his locks, his armor, too.

And that is precisely the reason Dream invites him in.

[spilltheventea]

Sorry if you aren’t taking requests, I couldn’t tell 😔

but I have been having brain rot for this idea- what if the creator spoke to the traveler? Like how in game we ‘control’ them, but instead we are a guiding hand, even appearing to them in dreams.

like the traveler isn’t from teyvat originally, so at first they have NO CLUE who the creator is, so they never tell anyone. And one day they mention it in passing to like a archon. “Oh yeah, I hear a voice in my head helping me through my travels! They are super weird and know wayyy to much, but they are nice to me!” Mean while the archon in question slowly pieces things together.

bonus points if the creator gives commentary like the players do, like “girl- you can deliver that letter yourself” or “paimon dear me, I love you but shuttt up”

No worries! I'm always taking requests, although I may not always be able to answer them quickly.

A/N: This idea is utterly fantastic, and I hope you enjoy reading my take on it!

Ever since the traveler woke up in teyvat, they've been hearing this odd voice in the back of their head. The voice always seems to understand how they're feeling and see everything they see.

Every time they've tried to tell paimon, she's just brushed it off as them being crazy. Hence why they haven't really told anyone. They just assumed that anyone they told would react the same as Paimon.

But today, while they were having tea with Zhongli, the voice just wouldn't stop talking about how pretty his voice is and complaining whenever paimon interrupted him. So, they decided to tell Zhongli about the odd occurrences.

Zhongli, having always been a rather knowledgeable person he listened intently to the traveler's tales. Although still holding his composed exterior, Zhongli was rather confused, attempting to piece together his knowledge and come up with a reasonable explanation.

The traveler may be the creator's first vessel, but what are the chances of their grace residing within the traveler's mind. Zhongli kept asking questions about the traveler's experiences. Stuff like "Do they ever appear in your dreams?" And "Can you see them?"

The more the traveler explained, the more confused the archon that stood before him got. "The holy creator has been with you all throughout your journey, and this is the first that I'm hearing of it?" Zhongli interrupts the traveler beginning to get mildly fed up. Why didn't the traveler tell him sooner, do they not trust him.

'Blah, blah, blah!' The voice inside his head blabs, and the traveler swears that for a moment they saw a person standing in the corner of their vision.

"Traveler, you seem distracted... Is the voice back?" Zhongli asks, swirling his glass of tea.

[tapwater118]

Tap Water Productions Presents:

What’s the Deal With Evil Leafy?

Seriously, what’s her deal? What’s with all the chasing and the people-eating and the potentially-possessions? Where’d she even come from? Am I actually gonna answer any of these questions? Well, keep on reading, dear readers!

Hello, internet! Welcome to BFDI Theory!

A Crash Course in Evil Leafy

Before we can find out what Evil Leafy is, it would help to know where and when Evil Leafy is. Here’s a tabulation of all of Evil Leafy’s canonical appearances:

Evil Leafy’s first appearance is in BFDI 17, where she is one of the 30 recommended characters that could potentially join the show (recommended by MrOrange890). She fails to get enough votes to join, and is summarily sent to the LOL.

Her next “appearance” is in BFDI 25, where Leafy can be seen “turning into” Evil Leafy after Golf Ball accuses her of stealing Dream Island. Strange, but Bubble did briefly turn into Evil Bubble in BFDI 20, so maybe it’s just a visual flair?

Evil Leafy does not receive enough votes to join season two, so in BFDIA 1 she is sent to the LOL with the rest of the rejects. Evidently she escapes at some point, as she appears in BFDIA 2 to chase Book, Ice Cube, and Spongy through the Evil Forest. Book and Icy escape, but Spongy trips, allowing Evil Leafy to “sink into” him.

In BFDIA 3, Spongy is shown no worse for wear as he spits out Evil Leafy. She is quickly frozen by Gelatin, who takes the time to write on her back. She unthaws later as she is seen “sinking into” a frozen Flower in BFDIA 4. Notably, strange dark vines seem to grow out of Flower when this occurs.

Like Spongy, in BFDIA 5a Flower spits out Evil Leafy, again none the worse for wear. Evil Leafy then spends some time chasing Tennis Ball, Golf Ball, and Rocky through the Evil Forest, before consuming them as well as the entirety of FreeSmart.

Evil Leafy serves as the setting for BFDIA 5b, as it is revealed she contains an entire world within her being. Also notable is that the BFDI crew are not her first victims: various other objects can be seen living in this world, all of whom met the same fate as FreeSmart. Lego Brick confirms that there are in fact thousands of recommended characters trapped within Evil Leafy; she’s been quite busy off-screen.

(Most of) FreeSmart escape Evil Leafy in BFDIA 5c, who proceeds to give chase once more. Book and Ruby successfully kill Evil Leafy with a large weight, alongside Puffball and Fries. As TB, GB, and Rocky (as well as Firey and Gelatin) need to be recovered in BFDIA 5d, it can be assumed that they either died within Evil Leafy during 5b, or died when Evil Leafy was crushed. If the latter, it can be assumed that all of the other objects in Evil Leafy die as well.

Evil Leafy takes a leave of absence until BFDIA 6, where Team No-Name accidentally revive her by looking into a leaf-shaped mirror in the ˥IΛƎ Here Hotel. She gives chase to them, during which she phases through a window, causing Tennis Ball to remark that “she’s growing stronger.” Interesting.

As she’s about to catch Team No-Name, she hears Coiny repeatedly saying her name elsewhere in Yoyle City. This gets her to prioritize WOAH Bunch and FreeSmart over the helpless Team-No-Name. As she apparently cannot go underwater, she ends up causing the two teams to see-saw on the dehumidifier for some time.

After fruitlessly chasing WOAH Bunch across the dehumidifier, in BFDIA 7 Firey Speaker Box evidently has enough of her shenanigans and freezes her, causing her to fall into the flooded building. For one reason or another, she is absent when WOAH Bunch drain the building, and she is not seen again for an even longer period of time.

After a four episode absence, she returns in BFDIA 12, and after killing Bomby (note that her sinking into him actually does kill him, unlike the other times she has done this) and being harassed by a bunch of concert-goers, she becomes all buddy-buddy(?) with Pan Flute, and ends up doing her strange vine thing without even sinking into him like with Flower.

In BFDIA 13, Pan Flute decides he is done with Evil Leafy’s shenanigans and duct tapes her to the wall, which apparently is enough to contain her. That is, at least, until Leafy utters the word “Who?” in context of wondering who recovered her. This sound somehow burns away the tape, allowing Evil Leafy to go free.

Throughout BFDIA 14 Evil Leafy chases the contestants across the islands, notably causing her strange vines to grow through the islands. This comes to a head when she chases FreeSmart through the pirate ship, and after Book narrowly escapes being captured, she confronts them one last time while standing on the surface of the water, and Needle crushes her with the ship.

As the rest of BFDIA hasn’t released yet, we don’t know what happens to Evil Leafy during that time. She evidently sticks around, as she can be seen stalking TB and GB in the Science Museum in IDFB 1, though oddly does not give chase unlike her previous appearances.

After IDFB, Evil Leafy is seemingly gone. She never shows up, and none of the characters even mention her. In BFB 6, Diamondcup67 submits her as a recommended character, but even then she doesn’t actually appear; she’s been replaced by a cardboard cutout of herself.

Her sudden disappearance thus begs the question:

What Happened to Evil Leafy?

Unfortunately, it’s all but impossible to tell. Whatever happened happened during IDFB, which is a huge knowledge gap in terms of the timeline. However, I have ideas of things that could be related :

The Desertion of Yoyle City

Strangely, despite calling Yoyle City their new home during BFDIA, the contestants seem to have long abandoned it by BFB 1. Seeing how closely Evil Leafy is tied to BFDIA and Yoyle City (through the ˥IΛƎ Here Hotel), there’s reason to believe she might have something to do with this.

Something to note is that the BFB grasslands are not the same as the BFDI ones, as evidenced by Golf Ball’s Underground Factory; it still has the old grass around the entrance, as she had to move it to this new location. The new grasslands are also seemingly closer to Yoyleland than the old ones, as Yoyle Mountain can pretty much always be seen in the distance, whereas it is never visible in the old grasslands. This could imply that the desertion was hasty, or that there was no way to easily cross the Goiky Canal (or even the Evil Forest).

(Some confusion may arise about these actually being two separate locations, seeing as they’re both referred as Goiky several times, but Goiky could just be the name of the greater location that encompasses both grasslands, and potentially Yoyleland too.)

Also interesting is that Barf Bag is seemingly unfamiliar with Yoyleland; when she is teleported there in TPOT 4, she expresses how Yoyleland is her “lifelong travel destination,” as well as getting excited over getting to see a yoyleberry for the first time. This is very odd, seeing as if IDFB were to continue as purported, Barf Bag would be freed from the LOL at some point and would have had at least some time to explore Yoyleland. Did Yoyle City get abandoned in the middle of IDFB, such that Barf Bag was released from the LOL in the new grasslands?

Everyone’s Okay With Leafy Now

In IDFB 1, Leafy is still an outcast from the rest of the group, still being metal, hiding in the bushes, and throwing knives at people. When we next see her in BFB 1, she’s been accepted back into the fold of the cast, conversing with both newbies and veterans in her usual Leafy way with no objections from anyone (except Firey, but everyone already knows what his issue is). Why the sudden(?) change in group opinion?

Maybe this could be written off as the newbies both outnumbering the veterans and not knowing about the theft of Dream Island (seeing as how Eggy and Lollipop were seemingly completely unaware of the incident, and even Gelatin, a BFDIA veteran, only had cursory knowledge of it). But she still interacts in a cordial manner with a decent amount of season 1 veterans, and any that still have a problem with her have their issue unrelated to Dream Island (again, except for Firey).

Maybe Leafy does something to gain back the group favor? Maybe something related to Evil Leafy? There is an obvious connection between the two, as suggested by BFDIA 13. Is there some encounter between the two that causes Evil Leafy to stop showing up? Is this the reason they move out of Yoyleland? I have an idea that I’ll get to soon, but it’s mostly speculation right now. There are many questions that unfortunately do not have answers right now.

So, that begs the question:

What even is an Evil Leafy?

There are two main aspects of Evil Leafy I want to bring up.

The first is her strange aversion to water. In BFDIA 6, she refuses to chase her prey into the water, even though they are sitting ducks at that point and she clearly prioritizes WOAH Bunch over the much drier Team No-Name. Additionally, in BFDIA 14 we see Evil Leafy standing on top of the water on Teardrop’s island. She absolutely does not want to go into that water.

And honestly, it makes sense why; after she falls into the water in the beginning of BFDIA 7, she isn’t seen until BFDIA 12. A four episode gap! That’s even longer than when she got crushed in BFDIA 5c! For some reason, water is especially dangerous to her, and while she isn’t afraid to go near it, she absolutely will not go in it of her own accord.

(Also worth noting that, as Needle likely submerged Evil Leafy when crushing her with the ship, we might not actually see her for a few episodes. If my theory holds water (heh), she most likely will not be in BFDIA 15. Ah, bugger. I forgot about the stinger where we see her safe and dry inside the ship. My bad. Ignore this paragraph.)

Secondly is how Evil Leafy gains her power. Tennis Ball remarks that Evil Leafy is “getting stronger,” and we don’t just have to take his word for it. Her “sinking into” move goes from being nearly harmless in BFDIA 2 and 4 to directly killing Bomby in BFDIA 12. Also, her strange vines go from needing to sink into someone to grow (BFDIA 4), to just needing to be near someone (BFDIA 12), to being able to grow anywhere regardless of if anyone is present (BFDIA 14).

I think they made it fairly clear where this power is coming from: in BFDIA 13, Leafy is the one who indirectly gives Evil Leafy the strength to burn away the tape and free herself via her confusion at being recovered. This goes back even further; despite likely being free from the LOL for some time during BFDI season 1, Evil Leafy is nowhere to be seen. You know when she does start showing up? When Leafy is exiled to Yoyleland.

Evil Leafy is an Anti-Leafy, the polar opposite of Leafy. Leafy is green, Evil Leafy is red. Leafy has been shown to love water, while Evil Leafy hates it despite (presumably) also being a plant. Leafy loves being nice to people, while Evil Leafy is seemingly built on detest for all she encounters.

Well, you say, Leafy is prone to lashing out at others. Does this mean Evil Leafy can remain docile around others? Yes! In BFDIA 12, Pan Flute treats her with kindness (at least initially), and in turn Evil Leafy does not harm him despite having every faculty to do so. Leafy and Evil Leafy are polar opposites. Two halves of the same coiny.

So, back to my idea I mentioned earlier; we can see that Leafy’s negative feelings apparently give power to Evil Leafy. Heck, even that moment I called strange in BFDI 25 could play into this: the negative emotions Leafy feels in that moment transmitting power to Evil Leafy. So what ultimately causes Evil Leafy to vanish?

If Leafy’s negative emotions give her power, it would only make sense that Leafy’s positive emotions drain that power. When Leafy got accepted back into the cast, I can only imagine she felt elated at that. She’s back with her friends! She can laugh and play and be nice to them just as she could before. Sure, some might still not like her, and she may still get sad and angry at times, but if you ask me I don’t think it can get much worse than “exiled to a distant land for years.”

Maybe she even precipitates the move out from Yoyle City. Yoyleland is a haven of bad memories for her, it would make sense she wouldn’t want to live there. And seeing as she makes some friends with some newbies (or at least gets on their good sides), they may want to follow her, eventually leading to everyone leaving on a “when in Rome” principle.

When Leafy is happy, what does that mean for Evil Leafy? Literally it means that her power is drained and that she cannot continue her reign of terror, but metaphorically it means that Evil Leafy is not necessary anymore. Evil Leafy showed up when Leafy was at her lowest (barring BFDI 16/17, but I’m willing to write that off as a form of Early Installment Weirdness), and she leaves as soon as that low point is over.

So that’s what Evil Leafy is. Even if not physically, at least she represents Leafy’s broken psyche. Leafy is unavailable, Leafy cannot handle the current situation, she remains exiled in Yoyleland. So Evil Leafy, the Anti-Leafy, the antithesis to all things Leafy, steps into the picture. And when Leafy becomes available again, Evil Leafy is gone. Leafy’s sorrow literally imprints itself onto the world, as if reality is saying “Oh, you don’t want Leafy? Then you can have Anti-Leafy instead. See how much better that fares for you.”

and that’s all I really have to say. sorry if this is a bit all over the place, i wrote it over the course of a week and had several new ideas in the meantime, so some rewriting had to be done. And with my luck bfdia 15 is going to instantly disprove all of this, so yeah for that

[omniverseexplorer]

How I Personally Apply the Law of Assumption and Reality Shifting to my Life

Disclaimer: I am not stating that everyone must follow what I do in my spiritual journey and life nor am I claiming that this is the "only right way" to live your life. Everyone's life and spiritual journey is going to look different and unique. I'm just explaining what works for me!

Law of assumption: : I believe that imagination is the only real reality, and the physical is simply neutral and a reflection of imagination because everything is imagination. Imagination is one with the "I AM" (us). There is nothing else to "do" since we are one with everything and everything is us, because everything comes from imagination. Reality is a living lucid dream and you are the lucid dreamer who has full control of everything in your reality. Anything and everything is possible there's no such thing as "impossible" or "fiction." Everything that we experience in the world around us comes from our assumptions. For example: You’re assume you have red hair by thinking/deciding you have red hair ➝It instantly becomes reality because everything is one as imagination. Creation is always finished therefore we already have what we want, and nothing is ever separate from us ("I AM"). "Techniques" and "persistence" exist to simply remind you that you already have your desires since everything comes from us ("I AM"). Personally I love to affirm with the knowing that it's already mine and there's nothing else I need to do but stick to the decision that it's already mine because I am one with everything because everything is me ("I AM"). You can do whatever you want there's no "right" or "wrong" way to do things as the God of your reality. You create your own manifesting rules and every aspect within your reality.

Reality shifting: I no longer view the Multiverse as something external or separate from us. Instead, I see the Multiverse as existing within us, inseparable from the essence of "I AM" (Pure Awareness) that encompasses everything, everywhere, all at once. "I AM" (Pure Awareness) is the source from which the Multiverse was birthed, and through it, we are reality experiencing itself. When we reality shift/manifest, we are not "leaving" or "going" anywhere. As "I AM," we are simply molding and manipulating our reality (us). Our desired reality (DR) is not outside of us; it is already within us because we are the Pure Awareness that holds all possibilities. In truth, we are always in our DR, it’s simply a matter of becoming aware of it. Reality is like malleable clay, constantly reshaping itself in response to our awareness (our imagination, assumptions, thoughts, decisions, and intentions). This process creates a seamless transition, merging what we perceive as the current reality (CR) into the desired reality (DR) instantaneously. Reality shifting happens naturally and continuously; with every moment, we shift into a new version of our reality. We only have one "physical" reality that reflects our awareness, but within us, as "I AM," exists the infinite Multiverse, a limitless expanse of dormant potentials. These potentials are as real as anything we experience, but they remain inactive, like a dream waiting to be awakened, until we shift our awareness to them. The instant we decide that we are in our DR, we become aware of it, and we are there. The "old" reality becomes dormant, regardless of what the "physical" world may appear to show. The "physical" and the "imagined" are one; both arise from the same source, Pure Awareness. Though the physical world seems to follow the illusion of time, this delay is merely a product of our conditioning. In reality, everything is instant because all realities exist simultaneously within the Multiverse. As "I AM" (Pure Awareness) we aren’t bound by the idea of movement or separation. Instead, we are like lucid dreamers in an infinite, customizable experience. Reality is a malleable creation, a vivid, living projection of the limitless Multiverse within us. Through our awareness, we can shift to any experience at any moment. Time, as we perceive it, is an illusion, and all that we desire is already here, waiting for us to claim it. I believe that manifesting and reality shifting are the same thing.

[yanderes-galore]

Hello! May I request a Yandere Romantic Concept for Princess Cadence from My Little Pony please?

I struggle making her dark so I hope I do better than I did with her Alphabet on this. She's not married to Shining Armor in this.

Yandere! Princess Cadance Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Clingy behavior, Imprisonment, Isolation, Delusional behavior, Toxic relationship, Kidnapping, Mental deterioration, Love spell, Forced marriage, Forced relationship.

Cadance is often associated with love when we see her.

Her introductory episode was her wedding, of course.

She's even considered a guardian of the Crystal Heart.

Safe to say she's a princess who seems to know a thing or two when it comes to love.

So what if we do something... darker?

What if Cadance meets somepony who invokes a... stronger feeling within her?

It's... strange for her, at first.

When she first sees you, the alicorn pauses.

It's like her heart nearly stops when she comes across you.

She doesn't get it... what makes you so special to her?

This begins her obsession, a darkness creeping ever so slowly into her heart.

Cadance could stalk you, in fact her intrigue makes her follow you a bit.

Although the princess is quick to catch herself and decide that she doesn't need to do something so creepy.

Instead, Cadance would make it a goal to become close to her new obsession.

Your bond starts relatively normal.

In fact, isn't it an honor to speak with a princess?

Cadance is similar to the other princesses (Celestia and Luna primarily) in the sense of being condescending and manipulative.

She's subtle with her obsession and it's hard for ponies to believe your concerns when she's so nice.

The Princess of Love treating her beloved poorly...?

Unheard of.

What makes her different than the other princesses is probably her obsession with not only you... but the concept of love.

She feels that this is normal, that she needs her partner.

She's dreamed of getting married since she was a filly.

So while Celestia may like the power dynamic, or Luna just hates being alone, Cadance wants to create a family in some way and fixates on the thought of getting married.

Her obsession really is love at first sight.

In her eyes and heart, that is.

Cadance acts like her heart or mind is being influenced by a darker force.

The idea of her love not reciprocating doesn't come to mind for her.

As her obsession goes on she gets so caught up in the idea of you two being meant to be.

Out of all the princesses, Cadance is the pony who most believes in soulmates.

When she locks eyes with you, her mind decides you're meant to be.

Her obsessive behavior is definitely delusional, fully believing fate will guide you together no matter what.

If it doesn't...?

Well... she just has to rush a few things, doesn't she?

I can see Cadance slowly becoming more and more unhinged as her obsession goes on.

At this point, who cares if she's being creepy?

She's allowed to be... you're soulmates, after all...!

She isn't willing to give up that thought.

She keeps track of your every move, perhaps using magic to monitor you.

Eventually she'll snap like most yanderes do.

Especially if she feels another pony is getting closer than they should be.

Imagine if one day when you go to bed at night... you wake up in a bed not your own.

No, instead of being home, you're in a crystal cage.

Before you can scream, a figure shifts in the shadows.

You look up to see Cadance standing over you, a grin on her face and her eyes bloodshot.

"Finally, love...! I was really getting impatient."

This doesn't look like Cadance anymore.

The princess you once knew and adored now has twitching eyes as though she hasn't been sleeping.

Before she kidnaps you, Cadance had been in her castle.

You had met her only a few times, but to her it felt like you were closer.

You just assumed the friendly princess was busy.

Which was partially true.

Busy preparing for you.

Cadance becomes a crazed husk of the princess you once knew.

She originally wanted to take things slow with her obsession... but she doesn't think she can wait anymore.

Against your will you'd be prepared for a wedding with an alicorn you barely know.

Although, fight too much and Cadance may be forced to act.

Cadance doesn't care how she gets her little soulmate.

Be you stuck in a cage, a love spell, or breaking your mind in...

She'll have you in the end.

She has enough lucidity to apologize when putting a love spell on you before you get to the vows.

After that...? Well... you'll get married.

She wants it to be perfect.

While your mind is in a haze, she's preparing crystal decorations that sparkle in the light.

Your fate was sealed long before you even reached the altar.

No pony questions her judgment, be that out of respect or fear is unknown.

She thinks you look so lovely in your wedding attire.

She just knows you two will be a perfect family, especially since you're not fighting anymore.

Cadance is a yandere deep in her delusional fantasies of love... so deep in fact...

She won't realize she's hurting you by forcing you into a role you have no clue about.

"We're soulmates...! I just know you'll see things my way eventually, love...!"

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Taylor Swift Can't Write- She is not a serious or important writer. She is blatantly normalizing cheating in her music.

Let’s talk about Taylor Swift’s honest attempt at coherent narrative -  

Just to be clear, the songs in question: Betty (2020), August (2020), and Cardigan (2020). 

In these songs, Swift, of her own insistence, makes a clear attempt at drafting together a coherent storyline. I, however, found her work lacking while considering it against the many thousands of other short stories I have read. It lacks any sincerity in giving the moment in which the characters experience self-reflection, or "Epiphany" moment, and growth.

An Epiphany is defined as a sudden spiritual manifestation- and it is this I would posit as something that Swift clearly lacks in her writing. She lacks the spiritual, or emotional, depth to accurately tell a so-called "coming-of-age" type story in which the main requirement is that the character has an "Epiphany" about the nature of life to signify them growing up.

I will explain:  

A short story- which I am analogizing to the multi-song arch from Swift- is typically meant to have an epiphany moment in which the main character finally calcifies the main point or the moral of the story. Without the impact of this moment within a short narrative- there is no arc, no moral, and therefore no real story.

Afterall, what is a story, but a coherent subsistence of writing aimed at identifying some universality of human existence (eg.) a moral, a point, or the main message? If I want to get philosophical about it (and I always do), narrative is the act of creation through which the particulars become implicit to a universal experience. Thus, it is a necessity of storytelling- to include the thematic message- or moral backbone of the work.  

Swift’s three song arc is intrinsically incoherent, so it becomes difficult to pinpoint exactly what each character is thinking or feeling. I would, however, suggest that through lines like “slept next to her, but / I dreamt of you all summer long” (“Betty” 2020), and lines like “I never needed anything more/ whispers of ‘Are you sure?’ / ‘Never have I ever before’” (“August” 2020). Therein builds an internal tension between the three characters, James seems to be lamenting his choices to sleep with August and ditch Betty for the summer; whereas August is honestly expressing the fact that this is her first time, so it becomes obvious this means a lot to her. First, we see James's apologizing to Betty saying that the other girl, essentially means nothing by saying he was dreaming of Betty all summer even while with August. We also get the other perspective of the other girl losing her virginity to James during the same summer in which he is thinking about Betty every night.

Already, all the characters are set up to be dislikable- which is not always to the detriment of storytelling. However, it is to the detriment of her storytelling that at no point Swift makes use of external POV, or internal POV, to show any form of personal growth or condemnation of the intuitively morally corrupt actions of James here. Thus, there is no real story- according to the theory of “short-story” telling I laid out above.  

It is her lack of condemnation towards cheating- and the immature irreverence James treats August with- that solidifies this arc as being a rather poor attempt at coherent narrative. Simply, Swift is either an inept storyteller- or she is blatantly normalizing cheating while also treating “the other woman” like a placeholder. (Clearly, Anti-Feminist rhetoric, btw). It’s especially bad that this storyline reaches no “moral of the story” since it is so obviously August’s first time. 

The closest we get to any kind of meta-narrative commentary on thematic point, from Swift as the external 3rd person POV, is with this line “A friend to all is a friend to none/ Chase two girls, lose the one/ When you are young, they assume you know nothing” (“Cardigan” 2020). Again, her use of POV is rather amateurish- because she returns to internal 1st person POV with use of the word “you” in the latter half of the line- which leads me to believe she really doesn’t know how to inculcate the different POV’s into her writing. She’s an amateur- and there's is nothing inherently wrong with that, however, if we could all stop lauding her as literary genius when she is so clearly not that would be “awesome.” Thanks.  

She continues the rest of the song back into Betty’s 1st person POV. The poignant nature of this line about "losing one girl" doesn’t land because the rest of the song is about how James is returning to Betty. Swift writes, “I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired/ and you’d be standing in my front porch light/ And I knew you’d come back to me” (“Cardigan” 2020). Beside the fact that this line is internally incoherent held up against the setting of “Betty” which is broad daylight, so James would not actually be in the porch light if the sunlight suffices, it is also quite obviously the culmination in which Betty is taking James's back. If there is any thematic message here- and I can only loosely believe this is an actual message here- Swift is saying that cheating is Okay as long as the girl, you actually respect and want, is willing to forgive you.  

And I’m supposed to enjoy this arc? People are supposed to be impressed with Swift because she came up with this garbage?  

She clearly has no grasp on Narrative coherence, no grasp of utilizing POV switching to make narrative more emotionally impactful, and no grasp on how to embed a good moral of the story into her work. So, she has none of the markings of actual great writer.  

The effect of all this is a subterfuge of lackluster emotional appeals- and a toxic love triangle that never resolves into personal self-reflection or growth. The story devolves into blameless banality with no personality or literary value whatsoever- just a reiteration of self-centered egoism that enables James to act without thought to the feelings of others. This is what Swift propagates as good storytelling? Is this morally sound story telling?  

Let me further drive my point home by dichotomizing this pitiful attempt at narrative coherence with the work of a literary genius, James Joyce.  

Has anyone here ever read “Araby” (1914) by James Joyce? (Sidenote: If you love when Hozier talks about issues of British colonialism in Ireland- you will most likely enjoy James Joyce as well- if you love critique of both organize religion and its sociohistorical ties to colonialism- you'll love Joyce).  

My critique too- ties into Joyce, where he showcases the blissful ignorance, or naivety, of youth in pursuit of love, Swift showcases no such thing. She is often praised for her juvenile writing schema- yet in her most overt attempt at writing a youthful romance she fails to interject the most important aspect of youth- Naivety versus painful realizations. In adulthood, when we all reprise the past, and trace back into our memories, we often speak fondly of the naivety of youth- with a little knowing twinkle in our eyes as young people around us make the same mistakes we did. It’s so beautifully human to reflect like this- and Swift manages to add nothing of this universal human experience into her work, even though it is often said that her only saving grace is the ability to capture “teenage petulance” and the proclivities of youth. In other words, I’m saying she’s not even doing the thing she’s known for well enough. She writes this love story like they’re all a bunch of bitter adults, not kids stepping into thoughts of love for the first time. There’s no simple wonder at love- instead, she writes about cheating and feeling jaded. Ditching people for the summer only to come back to the first girl with an "I'm sorry" and "she meant nothing."  Where is the personal growth in a story like that? In which James gets away with saying "she meant nothing," and August is not shown having any agency or reclamation of self after James essentially uses her. Then, to top it all off, Betty most likely gets back together with James. There is no growth to speak of in any of this- it does not qualify as a "coming of age" story- nor does it particularly qualify as a story at all.

This is like English Creative Writing 101 class- btw. It's strange that Swift does not grasp concepts I've taught to college freshmen before. If the freshmen can handle learning it- surely Swift could also be able to learn and improve the thing she does as a job? Right? No?

 “Araby” is a story of a similar predicate to Swift attempt at narrative. So, I thought it most apt to include here as an example which also employs use of Epiphany in short story telling.  

In quick summation, “Araby” is the story of a young boy who has a rather intense crush on a neighbor girl. He promises this girl that he will go buy her something at the market, and in doing so sets off a sequence of events which leads to his ultimate disillusionment with the ideals of youth and love.

Early on in his character development, we see a boy who has an overly romantic view on life, with lines like “All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: ‘O love! O love!’ many times” (“Araby” Joyce). He is so clearly caught up in the longing for this girl- that he truly forgets reality for a moment. His senses slip from him, and he is fully immersed into the lost revery of his little crush on the neighbor girl. Then, like magic, she speaks to him for the first time the next day. She asks him if he will go to the market, and he responds eagerly- Yes. He promises to buy her something.  

The conflict of the story happens at this point- the young boy meets every obstacle in life preventing him from getting to the market on time. He struggles to find money and then he struggles to find the time in the midst of his other obligations to his family. Joyce is clearly showcasing how our romantic visions of life, of everything going perfectly and romance being easy, can so easily be disrupted by the realities of poverty and the responsibility we all bear for family or others.  

The end of the short story outlines the “moral of the story” in which the young man, now nearly too late for the market and without enough money to actually buy anything, with the last refrain that “Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger” (“Araby” Joyce). Thus, Joyce drives home the "epiphany" moment, or the self-reflective moment of character growth, as it pertains to the fruitless endeavors of youthful vanity in romance. Stating, essentially, that people only dream of overly romantic scenes to bolster their own perception of reality as something that should go perfect for them. Life is not perfect, nor is it ever fair, and nothing happens as fantasy suggests it should- this is the hardest, and often the first, life lesson young people ever face. Anguish and Anger. What a beautiful phrase to remark upon- as this poor young man realizes life is comprised mostly of being “a day late and a buck short.”

This intensity- this moral backbone is what brings the story to life. The way this story enumerates the youthful hope- to the burgeoning adult reality- as something full of anguish -allows readers to bridge empathy towards others as WE all grow up in a difficult world. This is the "Epiphany." This appeal universal human experience, through particular circumstances like that of a young man in early 1900’s Dublin, is what is missing in Swift’s work. She gives us nothing but her own selfish refraction of immoral behavior without any appeal to greater human impulse or discovery.  Her work rings hollow in the face of actually talented writers like Joyce. She lacks the same depth, sophistication, and ability to actually make the story into a narrative arc.

She claims to write about teenage, coming of age-esque, discovery yet lacks any ability to actually showcase, with empathy, the ways in which anguish at their own naïveté presupposes teenage petulance.  

She writes out the most shallow- surface level depiction of some b-plot from a bad fanfiction and wants to pretend that she is a literary genius. Yawn. 

Addendum- I am aware that “Araby” is also a story predicated on ideas of Freedom vs Colonialism. To those of you who know the story well, I hope you don’t mind I choose to focus in on the “coming-of-age" part of the story in order to more clearly connect it to Swift’s work. I am not, however, ignoring the real sociohistorical implications of poverty, colonialist attitudes, and human rights thematic points in the story. I know.  

“Araby” by James Joyce is free at The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dubliners, by James Joyce  

[lightshiningforth]

Tessa Quinn Character Analysis

Just for fun, because Sleepless Domain is amazing. Spoilers, of course.

Tessa is a self-centered character. When I say this, I am by no means saying that she is a bad person or doesn't care about her friends. But she elevates her own importance again, and again, and again.

Look at her bedroom. Yes, she has her whole team represented up top. But the rest of her décor is her own merch. Nine Alchemical Aether figurines. A costume. A fan. A lunchbox. A trading card. A button. Another bag with Aether's sigil as the clasp. Aether-themed jewelry. Possibly more, if the abstracted pink and yellow posters represent Aether as well.

Compare this to Undine's room. Very little Magical Girl merchandise! Like Tessa, she has Team Alchemical represented in doll form. Unlike Tessa, she doesn't have herself as one standalone, let alone several. (Fascinatingly, we see an Alchemical Air poster - did Sylvia, in her self-promotional way, give this to Undine? Or did Undine purchase the poster because she knows that Sylvia's Magical Girl earnings make up her family's income?)

Undine also has her friends represented in pre-Magical Girl form, in the photo on her mirror.

Now, let's look at Kokoro's room. Heartful Punch, like Alchemical Aether, is a super-powerful, popular, pink Magical Girl. You wouldn't know it from her bedroom, though. We've got some heart-shaped iconography, in the lamp. A Magical Girl poster for Team Forte - not Kokoro's team, but another team/band. The pink poster with the fist could easily be Heartful Punch merch, but it seems to be the only piece of self-promotional material, and a subtle example at that (semi-abstracted, without her face or name on it).

Undine and Kokoro's rooms are more about their interests than their Magical Girl identities. Kokoro has exercise equipment, cat things for Kicks, hair styling supplies. Undine has animal plushies, lots of books, her fish. Meanwhile, Tessa's room centers primarily around Alchemical Aether merch. She surrounds herself with her own image, and specifically with the Magical Girl version of her own image.

We know that, when Team Alchemical is alive, Tessa fixates on her status as their leader.

And, when Undine first gets her powers, Sylvia, Sally, and Gwen rush towards her with excitement for her -

 - while Tessa hangs back, a slightly crestfallen look on her face. I don't think it's a reach to believe that she is disappointed that she isn't the one who got powers. Interestingly, Undine herself seems a bit surprised that she gets powers before Tessa.

Undine's assumption that Gwen or Tessa would become a Magical Girl before herself suggests that there is a dynamic among the friends, even before they are a Magical Girl team, in which some of the girls assume more significance within the group. Tessa is one of them. Further, while interstitial guest comics may not be canon, Undine finds her dream self standing on a very interesting mural.

Alchemical Aether dominates this scene. The other four girls are represented by their faces, enclosed in pink circles. Aether's full body looms serenely over them, hands clasped. Her sigil surrounds the whole tableau. In Undine's subconscious, Tessa has a literally outsized presence in relation to the rest of the team. Of course, this comes from Undine's mind, and not Tessa's. But we have reason to believe that Tessa sees herself this way as well…

Tessa's Dream, or, as Goops calls it, "a memory that should have been [Tessa's] all along." Is Goops an unbiased source? Absolutely not. But I believe that this sequence is indeed Tessa's Dream, up until the point that her hair and speech turn a Goops shade of purple and Goops crows, "Now you're starting to incorporate my memories." If you accept that this is indeed Tessa's Dream as it happened, these panels are chock full of things to unpack about her self-image. First, we find her in a palanquin, carried by her faceless friends. She wears royal adornment - a robe, a crown, a scepter.

Now, Tessa is surprised and alarmed to find herself in this position in relation to her friends. She shakes off the robe, she tells them that they don't have to carry her.

And they listen. When Undine turns to face Tessa, she is Alchemical Water. She thanks Tessa, and then all of the girls drop the palanquin and run off as Magical Girls. Tessa's crown falls off.

She calls for them to wait, but they do not. The curtain closes and she is alone.

In Tessa's subconscious, she finds herself above her friends, both literally as they lift her and figuratively as she wears the trappings of royalty while they wear plain white. Undine thanks Tessa before she lets go, suggesting that Tessa granted her permission. Critically, it is when the girls become magical that they leave her. There is a before, in which Tessa is the center of their friendship, and an after, in which they become new people, drop her, stop listening to her and leave her… she has been robbed of her crown, her status, because now they have something in common that she does not.

 While Tessa is embarrassed by the display and tries to put a stop to it - she would never actually dress as a queen and ask her friends to carry her on their backs - the fact that her Dream manifests this scenario suggests that in Tessa's subconscious, she believes herself to be the center of their pre-Magical Girl friendship, and to have no place within their Magical Girl one without powers of her own. Again, I don't believe Tessa is a bad person. I believe she is sincere when she tells the Woman in White that she wants to use her own powers to help her friends.

That said, she presumes that her friends need her to help them. That presumption leads all the way up to that fateful, fatal night, when she holds back from patrol with the belief that the other girls will struggle without her and appreciate her more as their leader.

(They die without her, of course. But they die because Goops murders them, not in the course of a normal patrol. Aether obliterates the monster when she arrives, but only can because she arrives afterwards… that fall would have killed her, too.)

Tessa would hate to see herself as the queen of her friends. Yet, she has no trouble asserting that she is their leader, believes herself indispensable to them, and cannot handle them having something she does not.

Even her assertion to Undine and the way she takes the blame stems from the fact that she believes herself to be responsible for all of them.

That's why she's so vulnerable to Goops. She can easily be convinced that the situation is all about her.

Ironically, Tessa's self-absorption does not indicate high self-esteem. Quite the opposite - Tessa is deeply insecure. She feels upset when her friends get powers before her not only out of jealousy, but also out of fear that they will leave her behind. She believes that she has no value to them without powers. Thus, she pins everything on being magical, powerful, the leader. Being Aether. Goops perceives this, and tries to tempt her with the promise of more power…

And taunts her with the loss of her identity as Aether.

But by this point, Tessa has given up. Her self-absorption has devolved into self-loathing. She goes out to Goops with the intention of being killed.

The text in gray, the vestiges of Tessa's self-worth, are weaker than her self-blame. Tessa is overwhelmed by what she perceives as her failure - to save Undine, to be friends with Rue, to be a good daughter. "No one needs you anymore," she thinks. And if she cannot be needed, then what's the point of living at all?

And then there's TessaGoops. Is Tessa her puppet, or are they truly fused into one person? I'm still not sure. I suppose time will tell.

At the very least, I believe Aether's powers are still present, somehow, at least slightly. Why else would the spot where her sigil was glow when Undine approached?

I suspect it will matter, at some point, that Alchemical Water has a little bit of Alchemical Aether inside her.

We shall see!

[froggieco]

Some controversial thoughts about the Peachyville Horror

I've been seeing how everyone is reacting to Francis's moment in the bathroom in this latest episode (episode 7) and I thought I might as well add one more.

Francis is someone who is mentally unstable, yes. I think this is something we can all agree with. He's surrounded by people who seem to either enable his actions in one way or another or they're on a list of people he keeps which we can only assume is something like a hit list. He's been looked down on by his parents, bullied by his peers, and generally just beat down by everyone around him including himself at this point. Then he won that trophy. That's where everything shifts. He's the one to take it home and it's obvious that by how Will was describing that trophy, something about it had negative energy.

⚠️Now I get into some gory details in this next part so fair warning ⚠️

Now, Francis had his dream and suddenly became violent to an extent that he would joke about it and people would feel threatened. Relistening to episode 5, he threatened a man after scooping his eyes out with an ice cream scoop by kicking him in the balls and then grabbing his eyeballs and threatening to squeeze them. Now, I get it this is a horror comedy podcast but if we are gonna analyze a character I'm taking everything into account and really this is the first and really an extremely violent thing for a person to do, especially when this is the first actions he's been known to take.

Getting the gun and instantly he seemed to know exactly what he "needed" to do. On a dime, the Francis we knew just a few episodes ago was already so different.

Now that brings us to the bathroom scene. People have been saying it was a mental "snap" or "break" which doesn't line up, like how most others have pointed out that this was something that was premeditated. He planned out this whole thing and followed through with it. And to those who think he did this so Shane wouldn't bother him anymore, he didn't see Francis at all through the whole attack, which yes, Francis could go back and claim he did it but I still this it's important to note we don't know if Shane will believe him.

That being said, with every increasingly violent act that Francis had done up to that point it made sense within the confines of his world. It was in his character that things have played out this way so far. And really I think it's going to make for a really interesting character arc. He isn't going to to be a character that we have seen before, which when we just had a season of teens that were just coming into themselves Anthony is getting his chance to get his character in, and it is a horror series. This doesn't make any of the actions acceptable by any means and this should not encourage people to romanticize any of the actions he does. There is a way to like a character and not romanticize their actions, some of these posts remind me of posts of people romanticizing real murderers and shooters, which is rather disturbing.

TLDR

Francis suddenly got violent after bringing the trophy home, having a dream after being under his teacher's bed for 4 hours, and now he's suddenly he's on a bloody rampage and those around him are either enablers or in his line of fire and that's an interesting new character to think about. But don't romanticize that shit.

Extra

• Another idea I saw floating around was that Francis got switched with his reflection in the trophy, which I love the idea of this one. It can keep the idea of mental health slightly but it brings the story back into it. But, I understand that even without evil trophies, people like Francis exist in our world.

• Also having him practice with his bully's face as the target was really the warning. I personally didn't know the scene was going to be that graphic but now looking back I get the horror side of the podcast now. As someone who lives in America it was something that shocked me the first time listening to it, knowing that the usual stuff that the guys bring up I can laugh off. This scene most definitely felt different and I'm sure that it's going to be a huge turning point for a lot of things.