#at the very least i can make it dual use and have it be a prosekai machine too. maybe ill put nuclear launch features in it to explode speci

[peelbug]

they removed the project diva future tones from my local arcade and they happened to be the only project divas in the entire state. I would have to drive 6 hours to play project diva now. I EXPLICTLY went in there with the intention to play Hatsune Miku: Project Diva Arcade Future Tone (2013) (this is the reason i started regularly going to this arcade in the first place) and this is what I am greeted with (no project divas) (they were gone) (they had some stupid fruit ninja clone in their rightful place) (found them in pieces against the back walls) (they still worked) (someone was camping on them last week) (they still made money). you can tell how serious this is because i am making a tumblr post about it which I never do.

this combined with the Fucking TV instead of an actual hologram at miku expo for the 10th anniversary..... it is a dark fucking couple months for the state of hatsune miku. project this summer is to diy an arcade cabinet. or to go dumpster diving if they threw them out. im so sneefious scoob im gonna eat sheet metal

[safination]

My Sweet Temptation

|Masterlist| |The Only Temptation| Pairings: Alastor x Reader Tags/ Warnings; f!Reader, Demon! Alastor. Heats! Ruts! Alastor and Ruts! dual POV, Handjob, oral (f! receiving), fingering, scent kink, p in v, knotting, antlers, tails, dry humping, pwp, cum eating, feels, Alastor just really loves his wife not even the sweet allure of a doe in heat can stop him from being the biggest simp ever. [TLDR: It's been a month since he last saw you. With Alastor finally starting his rut, can he still keep resisting the temptation that is you?] A/N: Wowwie! This was supposed to come out for my birthday, but hey! At least it's here. Special thanks to @ladyadrasteia666. This one is for you because I wasn't able to tag you last time, but you really helped me with all the smut parts. So, thank you. Minors DNI

The doe is talking to him like they are friends. She’s a resident at the hotel Alastor currently works and lives in, nothing more. It’s that current hotel that’s keeping him from his wife.

One whole month – that’s how long it’s been since Alastor felt any trace of you.

The doe smells sweet, in the same way that powdered sugar smells sweet, but her scent prickles his nose in such a harsh way that he wonders how long he could hold his breath for. Pouring actual powdered sugar down his nostrils would be less irritating.

The waves of scent are just too much that it’s positively disgusting. Alastor would have already killed the doe had it not been for Charlie.

The mind . . . it’s a very fickle thing.

Except when it comes to you, it seems – it’s very generous when it comes to you.

As the doe babbles with utter nonsense, Alastor’s mind wanders back to you. It shows him instructions on how he should trail his lips down the skin of your stomach, feeling the heat from all the sensitive nerves on his lips. Alastor thinks about holding you closer until he can feel every inch of your skin.

This mind of his, tells him how exactly Alastor would crawl inside you, fulfilling that never-ending desire to feel you, and only you.

As if summoned by his very thoughts, Alastor’s nose twitches with the scent of you.

Alastor still cannot describe what exactly the scent of you even smells like. It just seems to be the scent of laughter as acid rain pours down the street.

It also seems to be the s cent of a smile as dinner is eaten under a candle-light. It’s all of these things and none of these things at the same time. It’s not enough to capture the full essence of you.

All Alastor knows is that it’s you. He turns behind him, ignoring the doe, just in time to spot you rounding the corner.

The smile on your lips grows the moment your eyes land on him. Alastor knows when it does, because he watches your lips inch higher and higher as your pace quickens.

You tilt your head, looking straight behind him. Now what would cause your attention to shift from him?

Alastor gets his answer because he knows the exact moment your eyes land to the doe behind him, and he has to watch as that once bright smile quickly drops into a polite one.

The closer you walk, the stronger the scent becomes. All these sudden waves of you almost leaves him dumb. The only thing flashing through his brain are the images of how shy you would look when he traces a path up your legs, only using the very tip of his finger to inch them apart.

The doe’s ears flick a little as she smiles. “Are you a new resident?”

“I wish that were the case.” You reach a hand towards the doe. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introd—”

Alastor catches your wrist, pulling your hand away before he could fully understand what he’s done. All he knows is that he cannot have this thing leave its filthy traces on you.

He slides his hand up the skin of your wrist, catching your fingers in his hold, and presses a small kiss between them. It’s not his proudest moment, but Alastor makes sure the doe sees exactly what he’s doing. “My wife.”

Deciding he’s had enough, Alastor doesn’t wait for a response, and crashes you into him, pulling you into the shadows below with a laugh.

Alastor can feel the way your fingers tighten around him, pulling him closer as you travel within the shadows. He holds you closer, reveling in the feeling of holding you until he’s popped into the bedroom, and crashing you into the mattress with tangled limbs.

The scent is even stronger now that he’s buried his face straight into your neck. It’s pulling him deeper into his mind.

You run a hand through the back of his head, scratching the scalp with the tips of your claws. Those heavenly fingers of yours trail higher until you’re tracing the outline of his antlers, and circle around the tip.

The pressure you place relieves the itching. You trail even lower this time, massaging the base of his antlers. This sends radio waves straight down, and out of his skin.

Your hand retreats when static glitches around the air.

“Don’t stop,” Alastor says . . . practically begging . . . and pushes his erection straight against the plump of your thigh. “Keep going. Cher, keep going.”

He presses his antlers closer to you, opening his neck as your tongue swipes one, long trail up the skin. “Alastor,” you say, whispering his name straight into his ear. Soft breaths tickle his ears, causing them to twitch a little. “Alastor . . . Talk to me.”

Alastor trails a finger down your cheek, tracing the outline, moving lower until his fingers swipe through your lips. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“I received a phone call today,” you tell him, closing your eyes as you nibble on his fingers a little. “Apparently, you’ve been quite . . . disagreeable this past month. Someone finally had enough.”

Alastor watches you swirl your tongue around the tip, before taking it deeper into your mouth. The outline of his erection bulges against his pants, pitching a very, very obvious tent.

Alastor should send you away before his instincts take over. He knows this. It’s the rational thing to do, but rational isn’t what he would describe himself right now. Especially, when your fingers curl around the back of his hair, cranking his neck upwards.

Rut or no rut, it’s just nice to be underneath your fingers again.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen a doe in Hell,” you say, voice a bit softer than normal. The outline of your nose traces his neck, and the soft huffs of your breath warm his neck. “If . . . If you . . . I would understand.”

This annoys him more than it should.

Alastor presses his claw a little harder on the skin of your cheek, swiping down just to scratch at the surface. “How cruel of you, cher.” His eyes twitch, smile curling a little higher. “You would be so willing to let another bed me?”

“It’s biology.” Your fingers tighten around his hair, tugging on his head to look at you. “I would understand that.”

Alastor presses his lips against yours, nibbling on the bottom until your mouth gives way for his tongue. The taste of your mouth is even sweeter than how you smell.

It’s driving him . . . insane. Pure madness that’s sinking its claws into him, and drags him deeper into its clutches. The thing is . . .  Alastor doesn’t want it to let go.

Consume him until there’s nothing left but you.

“Who do you think I am? I made a vow, cher, and I made that vow to you.” Alastor traces your jaw with his lips, and each word brushes against your skin. “All this time I’ve had to stop myself from devouring you, and here I learn you’re allowing such ridiculous ideas to run through your head.”

“Me?”

It’s more than a bit offensive to hear the surprise in your voice.

Alastor captures your lips once more, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss. “Who else except you?”

The scent of your . . . everything . . . envelopes him, consuming him deeper into his mind. You tighten your arms around him, and there’s nothing Alastor can do except melt into you.

The tips of your fingers trace up his spine, and back through his hair. Just a minute – that’s all he needs. A minute to memorize the sweet taste of your mouth. A minute to memorize the warmth of your fingers. A minute to memorize the scent of your skin. 

In a minute, Alastor will send you away one more. “I want to feel you.”

“I’m right here.” You laugh against his mouth, pressing one last kiss. 

“It’s not enough,” Alastor tells you, tracing your lips with his finger. “I want to be inside you.”

“You can if you want.”

“I want to open you,” he says, sighing against your skin. “I want to crawl inside until I can feel every inch of you surrounding me until all I can feel is you, and only you.”

You push him off your chest, using your hip to flip him on his back.

Alastor’s head hits the headboard just as your legs swing around his torso, and you sink your core straight above his cock. The pressure you’re sending into his cock forces a small breath tumbling out his lips.

The base of your hips leans into his dick when you shift forward to steal a kiss from him. Alastor melts into the kiss, unraveling underneath you with a moan.

“Will you finally let me help?” You run a sharp claw down his shirt, scratching at the buttons keeping him clothed.

“You can’t —”

Ypi grip his antler, yanking him to face you. The noise that comes out of his mouth embarrasses him a little, but you’re licking your lips, and Alastor knows you like what you heard.

“Tell me to go and I will, but I want to hear it directly from your mouth.” You stare directly into his eyes with a look so intense that it’s almost . . . dangerous. It’s intoxicating. “No more dancing around, Alastor. If you want me to go, you’ll have to send me away.”

The grip on his antlers tightens, and the pressure you’re pushing into him feels so good that no words can escape his mouth.

“My buck,” you say, smiling down at him. The smile of yours . . . it causes him to buckle his hip straight up into your core. “Shall we descend together?”

There’s nothing really Alastor can do but nod.

Alastor watches as you reach for the first button of your blouse, eyes trapped as you slowly unbutton them to reveal nothing underneath. Oh . . . oh!

The friction from the cloth brushed against your nipple until it perked and hardened. He takes one end of your shirt, helping you pull your arms out. It’s all done with such agonizing slowness, but Alastor can feel your skin from the tips of his fingers.

You’re sitting on top of his erection, rocking your hips to keep it alive as you reach for his bowtie. Alastor allows you to unravel it from his neck, keeping silent when you throw it behind you. The buttons on his shirt don’t get treated with the same gentleness as your own. You rip his dress shirt apart, smiling as the buttons pop out to reveal the fluff on his chest.

Alastor decides that he’s lost.

You chase him into a kiss as all clothes melt into the shadows, leaving you bare on top of him. His erection springs free from its confines, allowing your bare cunt to press against it.

Alastor groans against your mouth as he feels your wetness from those already too sensitive nerves lining his dick.

Alastor leans away first, smiling up at you as he traces circles around your hips. He swipes his thumb across your cheek, pulling you closer to pepper your face with soft kisses. The giggle that comes out crinkles your eyes, and that . . . that is everything to him.

You press your face into his neck, collapsing straight into his arms. Alastor watches your head rise and fall with every breath he takes. You’re pulling on some of the strands of his fur, playing around with it. 

There’s a very pressing matter, like the way his dick presses against your stomach, but there’s just something so comfortable about being pressed up against you.

“I think I understand what you mean about wanting to be inside me. I could stay like this with you forever” You laugh into his neck, and blow into his ear. “I love you, always.”

Alastor presses his mouth against yours for a kiss. If he were to descend into this madness, he would rather do it with you pulling him in. Actually, Alastor can only descend with you.

“I will always lose when it comes to you,” he says. “That’s why I need you to be very, very good for me, cher. If I become too much, you need to tell me.”

You press another kiss, laughing. “When are you never too much?”

“I’m serious.”

You slide off his hips to glance at his cock. His erection is so hard that it’s pointed straight up. You press on his tip, barely touching it, but Alastor’s thigh tightens as the jolt of stimulation rushes down at him.

 You’re watching him now, looking at every reaction as you wrap your fingers around, testing him. Just a light squeeze, and Alastor pierces his claws around the bed sheets, arching his back to drive it into your tight hold. That felt good . . . more than a little good.

The pressure stays light, but you eventually tighten it around him when you pump your fist up and down and up and down until he comes right around your fist. Spurts of his seed trails down your fingers. It only took very little stimulation, but Alastor is already a moaning and cumming mess.

You keep pumping because his cock doesn’t get any softer. It’s still so painfully hard.

“That’s . . . interesting,” you say, licking your lips. “You’re still so hard, my dear. Is this because of the doe? Is her heat keeping you erect?”

“I haven’t . . . .” Alastor moans into the sheets when you quicken your pace. “Ah, mph . . . I . . . I haven’t . . . exactly stopped to check.”

Cruel! Oh, so very, cruel.

You’re torturing him, pumping your fists around his hard erection until he’s cumming from just your hand, spluttering out his seed in hot ropes.

It hits his nose all at once. A sweet scent that he’s more than familiar with. Through the blur of his tears, Alastor stares at you, traveling his eyes to see you rubbing your thighs together. The slick from your cunt spreads around its plumpness.

Alastor takes a deep inhale, memorizing the scent of your arousal.

It brings something out from deep within him. Alastor pulls you into a kiss, pushing you until your back hits the mattress. “This is your last chance.”

“Is that a threat?”

Alastor latches around your nipple, tracing the sensitive area with each lap of his tongue. His hands trace down the expanse of your stomach until he’s swirling his fingers around your folds. Alastor quickly finds your clit, rubbing circles around it until you’re moaning straight into his ears.

The sounds you’re making for him are greater than any music he could play.

You’re jolting and writhing underneath him, but you’re also pulling him closer, urging him on as you rock against his fingers. Alastor keeps going until he’s found that bundle of nerves. The more he presses on you, the more that sweet scent of your arousal fills his nose.

He wants . . . no . . . Alastor needs to know what your orgasm would smell like.

It’s the most helpful thing that doe would ever do for him. Bringing him to his rut earlier than planned meant that he would need to send you away much sooner. Her heat was heightening his senses, and that means he would be so heightened around you. Alastor wouldn’t refuse a gift such as this. It’s the least that doe could do for bothering him.

It doesn’t take long for you to unravel underneath him, and your essence flows around his fingers. It’s heaven. The scent of your orgasm is so heavenly sweet that Alastor cannot resist. If the scent is this good . . . Then . . . Then what would it taste like?

Alastor forgets to give you time to gather yourself, diving his mouth straight among your folds to stick his tongue out. He gives your cunt one, long swipe, tasting the mixture of your orgasm and your wetness. It’s sweeter than normal. Alastor keeps going, driven by the need to keep tasting you.

His fingers swirl around your entrance before pushing it straight inside. You moan when he does, tightening your legs around his legs.

Alastor laps his tongue around your clit before giving it a hard suck.  One hand trails up the expanse of your stomach until he reaches your nipple. Alastor traces around the sensitive bud, pinching it when you rock into his face.

His tongue can only go so far in this angle. It needs to go deeper. Alastor grabs your hips, lifting them higher into the air until you’re practically folded in half. You’re so close. He can taste it. Alastor doesn’t stop until you’re coming straight into his face.

It hits him like an ice-bucket. Gosh, what is he doing to you right now?

Alastor releases you, part of your orgasm dripping down his chin. Your chest heaves as you take time to breathe and calm down. Your legs are still draped around his shoulder with the muscles in your thigh twitching.

“We should stop here for today,” he says, pressing one last kiss on the inside of your thigh. “I don’t know what will happen if we go further.”

Alastor turns away from you before he could change his mind. It’s better this way. Safer.

Before he can get too far, you grab him by the tail.

The sudden jolt of pressure from the base of his back coaxes out such a pathetic whine from his throat. Alastor collapses into the bed, his ass sticking slightly up from where you’re grabbing his tail.

There’s an irritated look on your face. It takes a moment for you to find your voice. “What silly thoughts are running through your head now, cher?” you say, breast rising and falling with each breath you take. “Finish what you started.”

The pressure on his tail tightens. Alastor moans into the sheets, the hardest erection of his afterlife pressing against your thigh.

It’s an odd posture, but . . . well, Alastor loses control. His hips jerk against your thigh, and the feeling is so . . . It’s so . . . Alastor can’t stop sliding his cock against your thigh.

Pre-cum slides against your skin as Alastor humps against your thigh. That same pathetic whine tears through his throat when you massage the base of tail, running it through your fingers.

Alastor jerks his hips faster against you, chasing after his own release until he shoots cum on your thigh. He keeps rocking his cock against you, spreading his own release against your skin.

Despite all this, his cock still stands so erect.

You eventually release his tail, and you plop back into the bed, rubbing your thighs together. You spread your legs, circling a finger around your nipple before trailing down your stomach to insert a finger into your weeping cunt. Those fingers of yours try to massage your nerve, trying to find that sweet release that Alastor isn’t giving you.

“Alastor,” you mewl, frustration in your voice. “Alastor . . . Alastor.”

Alastor crawls back to you, hooking an arm around your hips to lift you enough to make room for himself underneath. Your back presses against his chest, face hidden into his neck.

Alastor spreads your legs even further, and inserts his own fingers along yours. The slow stretch of both your fingers has you gasping and moaning. He lays his hands on top of yours, and guides the motion of your fingers, massaging you in all the right ways.

Alastor takes your wrist when you cum, observing it with careful eyes before taking it into his mouth to lick it clean.

There’s an odd look on your face that tells him you’re nearing the cusps of overstimulation. That doesn’t stop him from flipping you over, and landing you to face him until you’re straddling his hips. His still very, very hard erection presses against you.

“One more. Give me one more,” he says, whispering against your lips. “I don’t know if I can stop myself. It needs to be you who sets the pace.”

You grip the base of his cock, swirling it around your folds before aligning yourself.

The arousal and cum dripping from your cunt lubricate him. Alastor’s head bangs into the headboard as you slowly sink into him. It coaxes a moan out his throat. The way your walls grip him . . . It’s so tight that he can barely think straight.

You start to rock your hips, keeping such a good rhythm. Alastor trails his hands around your hips then up your back. It’s all he can do to support your weight when you lean back, trying to reach that special bundle of nerves.

Alastor can’t keep his eyes off you. It’s all too beautiful. The way your breast bounces from the force of your rocking or the way your eyes are shut so tightly as you chase your own pleasure.

You’re consuming him . . . using him, and dragging him with you with every rock of your hip.

It’s hard to resist such a temptation. Alastor jerks his cock, meeting you halfway. The squelching of fluids fills the air. It’s such a sinful sound. Alastor can smell it – the mix of your scent combining with his. It fills his nose with such a heavenly scent that it forces him to come right then and there.

You tighten your grip on him when you feel his cum shoot straight into you, milking him for every drop. It makes him question who was actually currently in a rut.

With one last moan, you unravel above him and slow down the force of your hips.

The fog blurring his mind lifts a little now that he’s cummed inside you. Finally . . . finally. Oh, his darling wife. You were so good for him, taking everything he gave without a complaint. It brings hope into his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, he can spend his ruts with you. Alastor can finally hide you away for as long as it takes to end. It would just be him and you, and you and him.

You’re still seated inside him, breath rising and falling as you catch you—

“Alastor.” You whine straight into his chest, fingers tightening around his fur. The grip you have on him strengthens as you tremble within his arms. “Alastor . . . You tell me what is happening right now. What are you doing to me?”

Alastor places a hand on your shoulder, and . . . oh!  It’s getting tighter – you’re getting tighter.

His forehead collapses on your shoulder as he tries to breath through his nose. It’s too tight. You’re suddenly clamping down on him, walls getting tighter and tighter and tighter. It’s a little hard to think right now.

With your knees, you try to push yourself out of him. All it does is pull on his sensitive cock. Once more, you try to pull yourself out of him, but it’s simply not working. Every tug your make sends radio waves straight into him until static releases from his skin, and distorts the air around him.

Alastor pulls your flush around him, bringing his arms around you in a tight embrace. It’s all he could do to keep you still. “It’s . . . mph . . .It’s a knot. It should probably last for about an hour.”

“Probably?” you screech, and bite down on his shoulder with a moan when you shift above him. “There’s a possibility that you’ll be stuck inside me for more than an hour . . . “

“This has never happened before.”

Despite the absolute horror in your face, you swipe your tongue across your lips to lick it, and clench tighter around him. You collapse on his shoulder, face buried into his skin as you adjust to the stretching of your walls.

It takes a moment, but you eventually relax against him. Your eyes are dropping low despite being stuck and sweaty and covered with so much fluids he doesn’t even know which ones belong to who.

Alastor peppers your face with kisses, trying to keep you awake. “Don’t sleep,” he says, pressing his lips on your eyelids. “We don’t know what could happen to you if you do.”

You’re nodding off faster than he can wake you. Alastor isn’t even sure you processed what he said. “I’m tired, my sweet Al.”

“I know.” Alastor presses his lips on the tip of your nose. “But you can’t fall asleep, not yet.”

“No . . . I . . . miss you . . . and I’m tired of not being able to be with you. Tell me to stay . . . and I will do so,” you say, mumbling against the fur on his chest, giving it soft kisses. “Just . . . tell me to . . . stay.”

Alastor doesn’t have the heart to jostle you awake. So, he allows you to fall asleep, still completely buried inside him.

“How completely unfair of you, cher. How can I deny such a request when you have that look on your face.” Alastor whispers the words into your hair. “Stay here with me. I never should have allowed you to leave. You’re staying right where I can see you.”

Alastor will always lose when it comes to you – the only temptation in his world.

Tags: @crackrodent @whatswrongwithblue @n0tmentallystable @s-a-f-f-y-nation @chibistar45 @sweet-radio @s-a-f-f-y-nation

[myownwholewildworld]

Love is heartbreak

↪ a the age of adaline inspired fic

pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise? author's note: yes, i've cheated on my other wips, I'M SORRY. but when the angst and romance call, i can only answer - i am only human afterall. hope you like this little story that was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being this long, oops! comments and reblogs appreciated. enjoy! x warnings: 18+, mdni. soulmates trope. angst, romance, smut. mild breeding kink (soz). infidelity. mention of SA (not by Marcus) and death. dual pov. reader is female and a blank slate. reader is close to 150 years old (stopped ageing in her twenties) and Marcus is in his fifties. not beta'd and very lightly proofread, apologies if you spot any mistakes lol wordcount: ~8.4k. divider by @\saradika-graphics

“I’ll do anything to stay by your side, amica mea (my beloved). I don’t care about what the future holds if it’s not with you,” Marcus’ broad hands held yours, his thumb drawing invisible circles on the back of your hands.

You hated this — how your heart twisted inside you, torn apart by the choice you had to make. Was this never-ending life not enough punishment? No, you also had to go through heartbreak — your own and Marcus’. For love, you had to.

With eyes averted, you looked down at your worn sandals. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterlines as your vision became blurry with sadness, regrets and fears washed over you like the Tiber kissing the shore goodbye.

In your hundred years wandering the ground beneath your feet, you never had to go through this. Always so careful not to feel, not to grow close to anyone, not to really live the life you wanted, and now you were in a position where it almost felt too real.

Within reach — you only had to extend your hands and hug him in a tight, soothing embrace. Only needed to accept the life that Marcus was offering. Though as much as you wanted to—you wanted it, him, so badly—you could never.

And what was worst, you couldn’t explain why. First you would see the horror in his eyes, that frightened look glittering, then incomprehension, and finally disgust. Your heart couldn’t take it.

“But I do care, Marcus. Yours is bright, your military career is about to take off. I would only hinder you, your dreams. I am no one, and—” you tried to reason with him.

But love was blind. Love was deaf. Love didn’t care about impossibilities, because love was defiant.

At least his was.

“Do you think I care about being disowned? Do you truly believe that I would choose such dreadful life over you? Over a wonderful life with the person I love most?” Marcus squeezed your hands before one of his found your chin, tilting up your face to him. “Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori (love conquers all, let us too yield to love).”

You shook your head in denial, his words ringing in your ears like chants of war. Because Marcus waged war in all aspects of life, even in love — he’d conquered your heart so fully, you’d never asked him to return it. It would forever be his to cherish, to cry over, to destroy, to hate.

Because he would need to hate you to overcome the heartbreak you were about to cause.

“You don’t have a choice here. You are to marry the lady your family has arranged for; her family’s prestige will do you good. You’re just infatuated, Marcus, it isn’t true love,” you forced yourself to let a soft laugh out, wiping your tears as you took a step back. “At least, for me, it isn’t.”

Marcus’ expression folded and your heart with him. You hated yourself for saying such a vile lie, but a necessary one. The passage of time would not affect you, always stagnant in your early twenties after a fateful day when Juno decided to save your life from certain death. The Goddess of love and marriage was also one known for Her eternal youthfulness — one She would only share with those who had been wronged. And you had been so wronged in your mortal life.

And here you were, so close to committing the same mistake all over again. But you knew better this time — not because you didn’t trust Marcus, but because Fate was capricious. It didn’t matter if Juno was watching over you.

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. This is true love, lux mihi (my light), one that would live through eternity,” Marcus muttered breathlessly, reaching for you again, looking for that unbreakable connection you both strongly shared.

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus,” you retorted, forcing your tone to sound mocking.

Another step back with an unmovable expression and you saw realisation dawning on him. Slowly like a river widening its meanders, steady like the constant flow of water. Relentless you were, steadfast in your resolution.

“Ave atque vale (hail and farewell), Acacius,” were your last words to him.

35 years later...

“Father, may I marry her?”

Marcus gazed down the dining table, eyeing his son with consideration. He knew what it felt like, how true love messed up your head to the point of madness. He had felt that way only once in his life, and it wasn’t for the woman sitting beside him.

As cruel as it sounded, Marcus never loved his wife, because his heart belonged to someone else — the now hazy memory of a woman who always lingered on the edges of his mind. A cruel reminder of how feeble and fleeting love was, how love turned into heartbreak with just a few words.

“At least, for me, it isn’t.”

That sentence alone had broken him, his ability to feel some sort of romantic connection died that very same day. At night it would haunt him, filling his dreams with nightmares. The same scene playing over and over in his mind, his heart cracking even more every time those words would hit him.

He’d waited for weeks, months. A year it took him to realise you truly were not coming back, that you meant it. He’d only been a plaything for you, a toy you discarded once things got too real. And at that point he surrendered to the pressure his family put on him. Marcus had followed through with the arranged marriage in the end, despite the agony and the empty hole in his chest.

And now his son was following in his footsteps. His heir looked so much like him, like a reflection of the past staring back at him. It pained him — he saw himself in Magnus, almost as if the roles had reversed and he was his own father thirty-five years ago. Pleading, asking to marry the love of his life even though his hand had already been promised in holy matrimony to another.

His wife, Prisca, waved one of her hands with disdain, the spoon clattering on the porcelain plate.

“Nonsense, Magnus,” she tutted at their son. “We’ve already been through this. You will marry Verina. You’d put us in a very compromised position with Gellius if you don’t.”

“But—”

“Quit your whining and man up, my son. Gellius is the Emperor’s best counsellor. It will bring our family great reputation,” Prisca reasoned, tone poisoned with greed. “And riches.”

“Father?” Magnus’ eyes shot to his, pleading him to intervene.

Marcus sensed Prisca stiffening besides him, gripping the arms of the chair like a vice. He didn’t look in her direction but knew how her orbs distilled venom. She would never understand what their son was talking about, but he did. Too damn right.

“I would like to meet her before giving you my blessing,” he spoke calmly, lacing his hands together on top of the wooden table.

Magnus’ eyes sparked up, a hopeful smile curling his mouth.

“Of course, of course! She’s waiting right outside,” and then his son hurried out of the room.

Prisca stood up, the screeching noise of the chair’s legs irritating Marcus.

“Like father, like son,” she muttered maliciously before disappearing too.

In this moment of silent respite, Marcus pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. The patience he had to muster was titanic. His life had been nothing but heartache and war, his son being the only reason he stood by his wife’s side in public. He’d tired of the pantomime, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He would meet the woman who had stolen Magnus’ heart, just to make sure there was no deception from her part. Marcus wouldn’t wish for his son to go through the same heartbreak as him. If everything was at it should, then he wouldn’t oppose.

“Father,” Magnus called, and Marcus removed the hand from his exhausted, battle-scarred face.

His heart literally stopped.

A warm smile softened your expression when Magnus asked you to join his family in the dining hall. You had been sitting patiently in a small waiting room, wondering if this was right.

The first time you had laid eyes on Magnus a week ago, your heart jolted, and your mind went blank. He reminded you so much of your one and only true love, the one you ditched thirty-five years ago because you were too afraid to embrace the beautiful life he had offered you. The one you still felt in your heart, dormant yet very present in your everyday life.

Perhaps it was wrong of you to encourage this situation, whatever this was. When Magnus had asked you that morning to join his family for supper, he had caught you off guard, so you found yourself agreeing to it.

Deep down you knew why you hadn’t disappeared yet: you wanted to live this moment one more time. Wanted to remember how it felt to be loved so fiercely by Marcus, a yearning you’d been craving for over three decades. Only this man wasn’t Marcus, only someone who was his spitting image.

One dinner, a few hours more of playing pretend, and then you’d vanish again. Leave Rome behind after such brief visit before someone recognised you. You couldn’t afford to give any explanations, so you’d only visit this place once every decade.

You walked behind Magnus, head slightly bowed and hands laced in front of you. Magnus’ broad body blocked your vision, but soon enough he stepped aside to introduce you.

You curtsied, eyes averted, fixed on the marble slabs.

Before you straightened your back and introduced yourself, the man across the room spoke your name — your real birthname.

Inevitably, your heart sank to your belly with panic and your eyes quickly drifted up to meet the darkened ones you once had allowed yourself to swim in.

Marcus. Your Marcus.

Your heart raced in your chest and filled with pure joy. You couldn’t stop the smile that had started curling your lips nor the glassiness of your eyes.

Your one and true love was staring back at you with widened, tired eyes. He had gotten up off his chair and was striding towards you before he suddenly halted a couple of meters away from you with confusion painting his handsome features. Ones that had not remained impassible to the passage of time and war, but ones that you daydreamed about every single day without fail.

So within reach — you would only need to close the distance between you two and hug him, hug him till dawn and never let go. Oh, how much you missed him, how much you still loved him. With your whole heart, the one that ached and wept with regret in your chest right now.

Would he love you back? Did you break the love you shared past the point of mending?

“What? Her name is Aurora, father,” Magnus chuckled nervously, his eyes dancing between the two of you, puzzled. “This is the woman who has stolen my heart. I would like to marry the love of my life with your blessing.”

Your eyes flew from Marcus to Magnus at the revelation, bewildered. Marriage? Was this what it was all about, the purpose of his invitation to meet his family? Marcus’ son wanted to marry you?

You had not seen that coming, as it wasn’t your intention at all. You had only wanted to live this fleeting fantasy of yours for a few days, but there wasn’t love. Not like the one you felt for Marcus, that could never compare.

“Your name is Aurora?” Marcus’ question forced you to look in his direction, your heart twisting maddingly inside you. You nodded with hesitation, “I thought you were…” Marcus pronounced your real name again, the sinking pit of your stomach churning.

“That was my mother,” you quickly came up with a lie. You could never tell him the truth.

“Your mother,” he repeated slowly, shock and pain transforming his beautiful face. “I knew your mother.”

“What? Really?” Magnus intervened with a laugh, palming his father’s shoulder. “That’s such a coincidence!”

You looked at both of them, but your eyes inevitably lingered on Marcus’ darkened ones. Would he believe your lie? Again?

“The resemblance with her is… uncanny. You look so much like her, Aurora,” Marcus rasped, taking a step back and steeling his posture with determination.

He didn’t need to speak for you knew his hurt. Because the same memories that were flooding his mind, had been drowning you for decades.

The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken truths, your face burning — you loathed yourself for the pain you had caused him. Pain that still contorted his expression every time his eyes flicked to yours.

Would he ever forgive you? Would he know that you lied so many years ago? That you truly and irremediably loved him? That you would always do?

You bowed down your head, mainly to conceal the unspent tears brimming on your waterlines.

“So I have been told, General,” you muttered softly as Magnus’ hand rested easily on the small of your back, his lips brushing your temple gently.

“I know this may seem sudden, father, but I know that Aurora is the one,” Magnus confessed shyly, pulling your body towards him in a warm half-embrace.

Never in your life had you wished yourself to disappear so badly. Marcus’ sight burnt through you and you couldn’t help but reciprocate him. The sadness—no, the heartbreak—in them was like a dagger through your heart, and you wondered if the decision you made so many years ago had been the right one.

By the looks of it, he had done well for himself, just as you had imagined he would. The villa was beautiful, sumptuous even. It spoke of his status in the Empire, how highly rewarded he had been for his enterprise. You assumed that Marcus had married eventually after you left, and you only hoped he’d married for love.

“I see,” Marcus murmured in reply to his son, walking back to his chair. “Let’s eat first. Prisca, my wife, won’t be joining us. She had to excuse herself because she wasn’t feeling well. Please forgive her absence.”

Prisca. So he hadn’t married for love, his family had won and forced him into an arranged marriage after all. Your heart cried for him, for the injustice you had showered upon him with your departure. Perhaps he ended up loving her so his life wouldn’t be as miserable.

That last thought stung, the dagger further twisting in your heart. You wanted his happiness, but selfishly you hoped Marcus still loved you. Undeserving of such love you were, that was clear to you, but you still hoped anyway.

“Of course, Dominus,” you hushed as Magnus guided you to an empty chair.

The food served was delicious, but the silence looming over the table tinged the atmosphere uncomfortable. Magnus did a remarkable effort to keep the conversation going, but Marcus’ succinct replies didn’t leave much room for chatter. And when Magnus pushed again about the marriage proposal—to you dismay—Marcus said that it could discussed tomorrow over breakfast.

Even though the man in front of you had aged, you still saw him as he was thirty-five years ago. He had a scar on his upper cheek and across the bridge of his aquiline nose, crows feet kissing the corners of his brown eyes, his thick curls were greying, and his demeanour was more stoic, but he was still your Marcus.

The only difference though was his lack of… life. His eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, they were tinted with darkness and sorrow. Had war changed him? Had you changed him?

Your throat collapsed on itself, tightening to the point of suffocation. Just in time, you reined in the tears as the last maid removed the plate in front of you.

“I should be going,” you announced, pushing back the chair to stand up.

Marcus sprung to his feet before his son did. And when he realised his promptness, he cleared his throat but didn’t speak.

“It’s late,” Magnus said, standing up to be by your side, throwing a confused glance to his father. “Could she stay the night, father, please?”

Marcus nodded.

“I will ask one of the servants to prepare one of the empty chambers,” Marcus conceded, walking around the table to meet his son.

“Oh,” Magnus sighed, and you knew he’d hoped to share a bed with you tonight.

Your face burnt once more with shame when Marcus’ eyes looked for yours. However, you didn’t meet his gaze, scared of what you would find in it.

“Thank you, General, you are most generous,” you husked in a low voice.

“I will show you around the villa in the meantime, amica mea,” Magnus said, his hand quick to rest on the back of your waist.

You subtly flinched at his endearment. That was what his father always called you. It felt wrong when he said it now, completely out of place — it didn’t at first, when you looked at him and imagined he was Marcus instead. But with the love of your life standing firm in front of you, it sounded so vile.

This fantasy of yours was a dangerous game, one you didn’t want to play. Not if it meant hurting Marcus again, because you could see the way he studied you. How his pupils dilated with anger every time his son would seek your touch. It was killing him, and you in the process. When everyone went to sleep, you would leave in the middle of the night, as the shadow you were condemned to be.

Magnus urged you to turn around and walk beside him, when you heard Marcus gasp.

“Your birthmark,” his words stopped you right in your tracks.

When Juno touched you to bring you back to life over a century ago, Her caress left a mark on the back of your left shoulder. The shape resembled that of a peacock, the loyal animal known to accompany the Goddess.

“What about it?” Magnus intervened, confused by the interruption.

Slowly you looked over your shoulder to glance at Marcus. His eyes were a window to his restless, half soul, desperate and blown — he knew. He searched your face for a crack, a way in, but your expression didn’t tumble.

You wished you could veer around and throw yourself in his arms, kiss him and apologise, ask him to take you back. But you just couldn’t. Love was heartbreak, and it would have to remain that way if you didn’t want to hurt Marcus even more than what you already had.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, jaw tight with a tic on the muscle.

Marcus stirred in bed, unable to get any sleep.

Your face haunted him brighter than ever — every time his eyes shut, your sorry expression would gnaw at the confines of his mind. Seeing you right in front of him after so many years, all curled up to his son’s side, drove him mad.

At first, he thought himself crazy. You looked exactly as you did thirty-five years ago — not even a wrinkle kissed your skin, not a greying hair anywhere to be seen in your plaited hair. So when you explained you were the daughter of the woman who broke his heart, he had believed you.

That was until he saw the birthmark on your shoulder. The unmistakable shape he had joked about in the past, telling you that you had been kissed by Juno Herself at birth. It was impossible that you had inherited such a peculiar mark.

But it was even more impossible that you had remained as youthful as you were, as if not a single day had passed. How was that even possible? Some people were gifted with slow ageing, he had seen some, but to remain exactly the same? No, there was something else lurking, an explanation he could not grasp because it was too surreal, too unfathomable for a mortal.

Marcus needed answers. His mind was a tangled mess, this new discovery shining a different light on the conversation that destroyed him over three decades ago. Did your words have a meaning he had not been able to see before?

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus.”

What had you truly meant by that? Did you understand what eternity really was in a level he couldn’t even start to comprehend?

Heart pounding, he quietly removed the covers and sat on the bed. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Prisca was sound asleep. Not that she would miss him anyway.

In darkness, Marcus palmed around until he found his toga and quickly changed to then walk out of his bedchamber with a clear destination in mind.

He trudged along the cold corridors of his villa until he found the door to the room you were sleeping in. For a second, he doubted, thinking he was crazy for the implausible reason taking form in his mind. But if it wasn’t that—that you were, somehow, ageless—he still needed to know why. Why hadn’t you aged? Why leave him? Why not tell him the truth?

As his shaky hand lifted and curled to knock on the wooden plank, the door swung open.

You appeared under the doorframe with a wild expression and widened eyes, obviously in a hurry to leave. Again.

“Marcus,” you gasped, one hand flying to your chest in surprise as your beautiful eyes met his.

He froze in place, all the words he had planned to say stuck to the back of his throat, forming a lump that would not let him speak. Your beauty was dazzling, but it was the buried love he harboured for you what stopped him from talking as it resurfaced.

His memory of you had not faded, able to remember every single feature of your face regardless the passage of time. Everything about you was engraved in his mind, but he had almost forgotten how sweet you smelt. Roses, with an earthy hint of grass.

As your scent numbed his mind, Marcus finally found his dry tongue.

“Don’t leave, please. Don’t leave again,” he begged in a hoarse whisper, his eyes diving in yours.

You looked up at him and he felt himself under a spell. The same one you had him under years ago, when the heart was shattered and the mind bleak. Because even when you waved him goodbye, he still loved you. Never stopped, was never able to hate you for what you did, what you said.

“Can we talk?” he pushed before realising your eyes were glassy with sadness. “I know your name is not Aurora. I know it’s you.”

Your bottom lip trembled as a single tear fell from the cliff of your lashes. Moved by his own ghost of the past, Marcus reached for your cheek with his palm, the thumb brushing away the tears that followed the first one.

You let go of a deep sigh, kissed the palm of his hand and nodded. His heart was beating so loud, so fast, he almost missed your words.

“I owe you an explanation, Marcus,” you finally spoke, a broken sob almost tearing his resolution.

As you stepped aside, Marcus came into the room you were so eager to leave behind. Your heartbeat had spiked the moment you saw him and hadn’t slowed down since then. Perhaps you didn’t die of heartbreak but could die of a heart attack.

For decades you had been running until you found him. Until Marcus made you believe you could have everything he promised. It had been the first time you had actually considered growing roots. But the thought of not being able to grow old, to see the love of your life wither away while you remained sane, was paralysing. You had panicked — too scared to accept the love of a man who would give up everything for you, too frightened to trust someone again.

But was Marcus not worthy of your trust? He demonstrated repeatedly how he would always protect you, always cherish you. Not only with words, but with actions too. He had been so considerate, so loving, for a moment in the past you thought it a ruse. How could someone be so damn perfect and still be real?

Your heart clenched in pain, seeing him latch the door behind him and turn around to face you. The look of confusion, of sorrow, ate at your conscience. Under the candlelight, his torn features stuck out, time unforgiving. He was still gorgeous, would always be in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that slipped out before the quivering of your bottom lip let out a sob. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I didn’t know Magnus was your son, otherwise I would have never—” you shook your head, taming your cries. “I should have known. He looks so much like you. When I first saw him, I thought it was you. That somehow you had been able to still time and be with me.”

You sobbed a pitiful laugh, unable to look him in the eye. It was shameful having to admit something like this — that you had chased after a boy because he reminded you of someone you loved. But despite your immortality, you were still capable of human mistakes.

“So you didn’t know he was my son?” Marcus asked quietly. You could see the inner workings of his mind ruminating as you shook your head no. “Do you love him? Were you really going to marry him?”

The questions caught you off guard. Although at some point you were expecting them, you didn’t think it would be this early in conversation. It might be for the better if it got out of the way as soon as possible, so you could explain yourself.

The first cut would be the deepest, although the rest would still hurt.

“I love the idea of him,” you emphasized, ashamed of yourself for giving in to such fantasy. “I thought I could love him the way I did you, that he could be a vessel of my love for you. That I could, for a few days, remember how it felt— how you felt. That I could have you one more time,” you paused and sighed, intertwining your hands together to twist them nervously. “I only met him a week ago, marriage did not cross my mind at all. I was going to leave once—”

“Once it got too serious,” he finished for you.

Marcus went quiet again, his eyes transfixed on you. You wished Juno blessed you with the ability to read minds, to know what he was thinking right this moment. Did he hate you for what you just revealed? Did he think you were sick for trying to live out a fleeting dream? Would he forgive you for such despicable behaviour?

“Do you still love me?” his gravelly voice was so low, for a moment you thought you had imagined it.

But the doubt, the fresh hurt in his wounded gaze, told you otherwise.

You gaped for air, your lungs strained with sorrow. You should fib, stand by your initial lie, tell him you didn’t. But what had that gotten you the first time around except for a life of misery and loneliness? What had that gotten him?

“I do. I do love you, Marcus,” you whispered, out of breath due to the pounding of your heart. “Couldn’t be any other way. You’re the other half of my soul that I’ve been missing for so long.”

Time stilled as you looked Marcus dead in the eyes. You were not expecting anything out of your raw confession, because the time for those had passed. It was what you should have said thirty-five years ago, not now. You were too late to mend the love that had slipped through the cracks of time.

“Then that’s all that matters,” he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with emotion.

The admission shook you. Could this be true, really happening? Did he still love you after all this time?

In a couple of strides, you found yourself in his arms, the way it should have been ages ago. His forearms wrapped around you like a warm blanket as his head bowed down to taste your lips.

You kissed him back, first sweetly, then fiercely. You kissed him with all the unexpressed love you held in your heart, with the passion your true love deserved. His tongue was as sweet as you remembered, as soothing as your memory recalled. A dance ensued, his tongue reading a love letter to yours.

Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, drifted up to cradle his face — his moustache and stubble pickling the skin of your palms. Marcus untied his mouth from yours to kiss your tears goodbye, then pressed a peck on your forehead. His heart was beating as loud as yours, in unison like true soulmates.

“I’ve missed you. I never stopped thinking about you, lux mihi,” he confessed under his breath. “Life was never the same after you left.”

His admission made your heart flutter even further, and you couldn’t help but let your hands roam his back. Your fingers played with the knot holding the toga in place, his seeping warmth beckoning.

“I need you, Marcus. Make love to me,” you pleaded, leaving a love trail of kisses on his neck.

Marcus’ chest rumbled at your plea, his lips hunting down yours in a heartbeat. His hands were quick with your clothing, worshipping the curves of your body as it was revealed to him. You did the same with his toga, until you were both bare, standing in front of each other.

You saw his eyes lingering on every nook and cranny of your skin before they found yours. A thunder of connection ran through you, of yearning. On your tiptoes, you kissed him again, pressing your breasts onto his chest while your fingertips traced the map of his back.

You didn’t expect all the bumps and grooves you found on his skin; battle scars dotted around everywhere. Some thick and protuberant, some thin and soft. Marcus keened at your touch, silently letting you know that some of them were too sensitive to be caressed.

How much hurt his body and heart had endured, a life dedicated to war and duty. Your heart cried for him, for not being able to be by his side when he needed you most. Had you taken up his offer, had he run away from responsibility with you, his skin would tell a different story.

But the past couldn’t be changed, only the present was malleable enough to shape a new future.

Slowly he pushed you towards the bed, his hands resting on either side of your waist while his thumb drew lazy circles on your bristled skin. Raking your fingers through his silver curls, you leaned back on the mattress, his warm body blanketing yours.

His hands found the apex of your breasts, soft fingers rubbing your taut nipples as your head tilted back. Marcus licked the salt of your exposed neck, finding your pulse point. He kissed the spot and lingered, your vein pulsing against his lips as one of his hands discovered the slick your thighs harboured for him.

The feathery caress of his ring finger outlining your seam turned you into a whimpering mess. His pad stroked your nub, a slight flick followed before it slid down your slit and found your weeping hole. He circled it a few times, taunting you effortlessly, before returning to your clit.

You heaved, lips pursed so your moans would stay contained. In the dead of the night, you worried this show of love would seep through the walls. But not even the thought of his marriage, the thought of Magnus lying in bed a few rooms over, could stop you from joining your bodies together the way the Gods intended.

Marcus’ mouth travelled down the column of your neck, kissing the center of your clavicle before he went further down. Your unattended nipple was soon enough smothered by the wetness between his lips, and you fisted his hair in response, gently tugging at it.

“Marcus,” you moaned, eyes shut. Rejoiced.

One nipple drowned in his spit, the other pinched between his fingers, and his ring finger pressing tight circles on your thudding clit had you fighting to remain silent. But the moment the hand between your hands moved down and his digit teased your walls apart as it sank in your slick warmth, you couldn’t stop the muffled yet loud moan.

“Sing for me, meum corculum (my little heart),” Marcus husked. The gentle pumping of his finger in your wet heat had you quietly howling a few seconds later. “That’s it.”

Your felt your walls contract, pulse around his finger, holding onto him for dear life. Feeling your need as his own, Marcus dunked his middle finger in your pussy too, stretching you while his thumb stroked your clit. The combination of it all made you clench around him, almost begging for release.

“Let go for me,” Marcus asked between licks, and you couldn’t resist his prayer.

The coil that had been tightening inside you finally snapped, releasing a wave that coursed through your quaking body like a tumultuous sea. Your back slightly arched as your thighs trembled around his forearm, chest rising with a dire need for oxygen.

Marcus chuckled softly, setting your nipple free as he searched for your mouth again. He devoured you as you came down from your high, his erect cock gently resting on your mound. The weight of it on your sensitive skin felt like it belonged. The anticipation of welcoming him inside you made you gush.

“Let me drink you, kiss you, savour you,” he pressed a kiss on your mouth after each pause.

Your skin flushed; the proposition was somewhat indecent. It was lewd, frowned upon, and you were tethered to the chains of social decency. But there was nothing decent about infidelity, after all.

“Please, mea vita (my life). I can make you reach for the moon and the stars in the ceiling above if you let me, make you touch them,” he promised.

You shyly nodded, and his boyish grin grew wider, his lips tensing. So contagious, you smiled back as he came off you and moved your body until your butt was on the edge of the mattress.

He scooted you over towards him until the back of your knees were resting on his shoulders — leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His eyes lingered on your leaking dampness, his dilated pupils tracing the outline of your seam. The intensity of it all, the deep connection, made your thighs press together against his neck, wanting to hide your core from him.

You had nothing to be shy of, as Marcus had already seen you bare before. Sex with him had always been ardent, fervent — the heat of passion always got the best of you both, a certain urgency to consummate your love. But now? Now was different. There was no rush in his movements, in how his thumbs pried your pussy lips open, in how his warm lips brushed the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. His calm confidence in taking you as he had promised was new to you, who never had all the time in the world. But right now, you did. For Marcus, you did. Always would.

Your lashes fluttered, kissing the apples of your cheeks the moment the languid strokes of his tongue met your swollen flaps. He kissed one gently, then the other, before the wet muscle lapped from your gushing hole up to your clit. So venerating were his licks, your limbs relaxed at the intimate kiss.

“You taste like ambrosia, lux mihi. The best relish I have ever been graced with,” his hot breath collided with the cold skin on your slit, your body trembling in response.

“Marcus, please,” you begged, although you were not sure why, or what you were asking of him.

He didn’t leave you waiting again. His fingers sank in the flesh of your thighs while his tongue dived inside your slick furrow. So dextrous were his charges, you couldn’t help but mewl like a starved kitten in a back alley asking for leftovers. First, he flicked your excited bundle of nerves, and then he suckled on it, his jaw working you through the climb to another orgasm. The buildup was intense, but it became feverish the moment his finger joined the action — it slid easily inside, curled to caress the precise spongy spot of your arousal.

Unaware of your own actions, one of your hands slithered down your belly until you fisted his curls — pushing him towards the centre of your heat, not away from it. He hadn’t lied — the stars appeared behind your eyes, bright like the future you wished you had with him. A sea of constellations, all imploding at once in an amazing rain of stars that blinded you as you came crashing down from the skies.

You heaved and wailed his name in ecstasy, your entire body quivering with the strength of a thousand suns. Your entrance clenched around his finger as you held your breasts, your thumbs ghosting the taut buttons. You leaked your pleasure on his mouth, and he drank unashamedly, grateful of your offering.

A sweet kiss on your mound before he towered over you, and you could only look at him in awe with raw, true love. When his battered body blanketed yours, you draped your arms around his waist, hands lightly resting on his lower back. The knowing smirk on his lips spoke of a muted “I told you so.”

“I love you,” he whispered instead.

Your heart swooned and healed and cried and exploded. All at once. He hadn’t said those exact words yet, but they were veiled in every sentence, every action he had said or done tonight. Deep inside you were eternally grateful that he hadn’t grown to hate you, that his love for you remained intact despite heartache, circumstances and time.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled up, ones that Marcus drank too. As he did, your palms stroked his ribs, careful to avoid the scars you had come to learn were too delicate. Eager, one slid off his skin until your fingers wrapped around his throbbing manhood. Eyes down, you saw the pearly bead of pre-cum commending you to butter it on his flushed head. With your thumb you caressed the tip, and Marcus’ lips parted in need — an invitation you quickly accepted, dunking your tongue in his mouth.

A few pumps had him groaning and soon enough you were guiding him to the pocket of heat between your thighs. His cockhead kissed your gushing entrance the same way his lips did — knowing, denuded, possessing. And slowly he made his way in, parting your flesh like a new stream disturbing the earth beneath. The burning sting was most welcomed, blossoming into a fullness you had craved for decades.

“I’m home,” Marcus rasped when he was fully seated in your cunt.

Your throat clamped a little, emotion overtaking your senses the same way his erection did.

“Welcome home, dilectus (beloved),” you muttered with a loving smile and teary eyes.

You melted into a slow kiss as Marcus rocked his hips, rutting into you almost lethargically, wanting the moment to last. You let him set the pace, the drag of his cock in your pussy a delight that had you reaching for the stars again and your inner walls squeezing him tight. The sweet rhythm of his swaying tightened the slick, hot coil that pooled low in your belly, and the moment Marcus gained momentum, you followed.

Needily he started fucking into you with precision, chasing both of your highs. His dick pulsed inside you, your heartbeat instinctually adapting to his in a second. Both so close to the sky above, gasping for air now, you rocked underneath him to amplify such pleasure.

“Marcus,” you whimpered, your hands now cradling his face. You lost yourself in his eyes, blown and loving. “Please, inside,” was everything you murmured.

Even after your petition, the snap of his hips against yours didn’t falter. Instead, the pace increased as his wild orbs studied your blissed out expression.

“Do you mean it?” You nodded effusively. “Do you want your belly round with my child?”

You didn’t even know if it was possible — yes, you looked young but were closer to a hundred and fifty years on this earth than to the day you were born. The fertility of your womb was one you never dared to test in your immortal life, but the thought of having such a memory—someone—to remember him by when the days grew cold and the nights dark was overpowering reality.

“Yes, I do,” you reassured him, pecking his lips softly.

His head fell, his face resting on the crook of your neck, while he made love to you. His moves stuttered, announcing his climax, and your pussy hugged him tight in a natural response. The moment the first ropes hit your cervix, you came undone too. As Marcus filled you with his warm spent, you creamed around his beating girth, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your back arched and your nipples kissed his chest.

It took both of you a few minutes to come down, for the haze of lovemaking to slowly dissolve in the musky air. Marcus hungered for your lips and he hunted them down with eagerness. Your bodies finally untied, his cock leaving you empty yet satisfied.

You hoped—prayed—his seed would take root in your womb. Even if it was impossible, the sliver of a miraculous possibility gave you a resemblance of hope. So you pressed your thighs together, greedy of his gift.

Marcus rolled off you, falling onto his tummy besides you. Quickly you laid on your side, your fingertips tracing the lines of his skin again. A feathery touch to alleviate the harshness of life. He unburied his face from the pillow and turned to look at you.

His smile was instant, and so was yours.

For an hour no words were spoken at all, no sleep was achieved either. You both remained silent, staring at each other, soaking up the love that flooded the chamber.

Replacing your fingers with your lips, you kissed the scars on his back, his shoulders, his arms. And finally his nose and cheek, where you dawdled as if your caress could erase the pain they inflicted.

“What are we going to do, amica mea?” Marcus husked after what felt like an eternity.

Reality set in, leaving a gaping hole in your belly. What could you do? Would you be strong enough to stay by his side for however long the goddess Mors took to claim him? Strong enough to build a life you knew was ephemeral? And once he was gone from this mortal plane, what would be left of you?

The choice was an impossible one. One that you should have made decades ago, when the heart was whole and the mind still strong. Now you knew how arduous life was without him, how—for years—you had looked for him in the small details and every single man who resembled him, how the regret and the grief haunted you at every turn of a decade. Now you knew that life wasn’t worth living if you didn’t have Marcus to share it with.

You traced the profile of his nose with your lips before pressing a soft kiss on his.

“I am not sure, but I am willing to try… if you are,” you whispered, leaning back.

The implications of such life were huge for him. Married, with a son who though himself in love with you, an acclaimed General who served Rome even when Rome didn’t serve him. His responsibilities were greater than yours, Marcus had so much to lose. Had you accepted his proposal when you should have, neither of you would be in such dire situation.

Marcus sighed heavily, rolling onto his side to face you. His calloused hand cradled your cheek, his eyes filled with a determination you wished you had back then, when life was easier.

“There is nothing nor no one that could stop me from spending the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” he mumbled, hand dropping to your hip. “I said it then, and I will say it again: I do not care for this life if you are not with me. I don’t care about reputation nor retaliation. For over fifty years I have done what was expected of me, and I am done living my life for Rome and her vice. You’re the stars that light up my path in the darkest of nights, the warm sun that guides me home. For however long you’ll have me, I’ll be with you. My heart was always yours, mea vita, since the moment I landed eyes on you. And I don’t want it back, ever, even if you have to leave again.”

The softness of his delivery, the truth his words emanated, brought tears to your eyes. You thought yourself unworthy of his love, his devotion, when you had only caused heartbreak. But this was your second chance, one you were not going to let go.

You moved closer to him as his arm wrapped around you. With your forehead resting on his naked chest, you traced invisible lines on his ribs.

“I won’t leave. That broke me once, can’t handle it a second time. I love you and want to spend the rest of our time together showing you how much I do, making up for lost time. For however long,” you repeated, kissing his chin.

There was a brief pause, and you knew what his next words would be.

“How old are you?” the question you had always avoided, dreaded.

“Close to three times your age,” you confessed, looking up at him through your lashes.

The answer slowly sank in, but instead of horror, incomprehension and disgust, you only found acceptance. As if it was just another fact about you, nothing of major importance.

“You look amazing for being close to one hundred and fifty years of age,” he joked with a grin to lighten the mood. You let out a soft laugh in response. “How? If you want to share.”

The story of how you came to be ageless wasn’t a pleasant one. But your life was full of secrets that had ruined every human link you had to this earth, and you wouldn’t let them spoil the only real connection you had left.

“I… I was promised to a man, one who I thought was worthy of my love. There were things I was blind to at that time, and only time showed them to me. I thought everything was going as expected, he was always so courteous and respectful in public. Until our wedding night, when he…” you paused, the memories too painful even after all this time, “he abused me, and let his friends use me. When they were done, they left me for dead in a ditch.”

Marcus’ arm draped around you tighter, his heart beating so loud you could hear it thumping against his chest. He hugged you close, his warmth calming and reassuring. Marcus was nothing like that man, if your abuser could even be considered a person. You knew he never would be so despicable — you were as sure as the first lights of the sun would wake you up tomorrow.

“It took me hours to finally drift away. And when I did, Juno greeted me. Said the man had wronged me, and that I should have a second chance to understand what marriage and true love actually were about. Then she touched me right here,” you caressed the peacock-shaped birthmark, “and breathed life into me.”

Marcus leaned back a little to inspect your torn features. The heartache he had to endure paled in comparison to yours. How could someone inflict such hurt on another? He couldn’t even fathom such disgusting scenario. That man was the reincarnation of evil, and he wished he suffered the most agonising death.

He had only seen your soul’s purity, your kindness, your benevolence. Anyone who didn’t was blind.

“You did not deserve that ending, amica mea — no one does. He didn’t deserve you,” his heart cried for you, for the weight you had carried for over a century. “You’ve got the purest heart I have ever known. A soul that I will protect until my dying breath.”

“A half soul,” you interrupted him, and Marcus looked at you confused. “Because your other half completes mine.”

His heart jolted, this time because of the sweetness of your confession. That muscle had grown bigger in the last two hours than in his entire lifetime. He sworn himself to stand by your side, come what may. You would never be wronged again, not if he could avoid it.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Marcus declared without skipping a beat.

“What? What about your wife, your son?” your eyes had widened, but his resolution was firm.

“My wife… she’s not been my wife for years. She’s poison. And my son…” he shrugged, conflicted. “He’ll eventually understand, or so I hope. I believe he might already have an inkling that something weird was at play from the moment I said your real name.”

“Marcus, are you sure? You’d be sacrificing so much for me, I wouldn’t want to—”

He didn’t let you finish, his mouth covering yours in a passionate kiss that slowly turned gentle and soothing. Your hands caressing his battle-scarred skin was like a balm; your touch the first and only one to cure all his ailments. Unhurriedly, he sat back up on the bed, dragging you with him.

“Let’s leave now. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” Marcus purred against your lips.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both clothed and atop of two horses, blending in with the shadows of the night that concealed your departures, in search of a new life. Together.

taglist: @orcasoul @lilac-boo @picketniffler @almostfoxglove @gothcsz @liciafonseca @namenotimportant1373

[mo-aiki]

I now love you, is it too late? (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)

Summary: Heartbreak and romance are two sides of the same coin. They both deal with love between another. Your heart is broken but you are trying to move on, but someone is preventing you from doing so.

Notes: I never thought that the previous story would blow up like it did. You can read the first part here.

Warning: alcohol consumption, drugging someone, forced love, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.

The days after his conversation with you, he should had been elated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't bothered by you and your antics. He could finally get work done without you bother him at every corner to come visit him or play with him. For the first few days, he was able to finish everything for once in his life instead of having a pile to do the next day. But overtime, somehow he was dreadfully bored.

His office felt quiet. Almost too quiet. The only sounds he could make out were the papers shuffling, the clock ticking, and the the voices that came in and out of his office.

Also, overtime he had completed work for the month. He was used to working more the next day and having work stacked up to the point that he needed to catch up, that now he has no idea what to do once he finished work for a month or two.

Alaric thought he could read. He has always enjoyed reading in his free time. But once he got to reading, he felt bored once again. He never realized that the books he read were nothing but boring. The books were full of political theory, history of the most boring topics, and informative information.

His lunches were quiet, his dinners were quiet, and his stomach often rumbled when he forgot to eat.

Life felt repetitive, boring, and dull. He was stuck in a routine of eat, work, and sleep. Nothing ever happened.

When (y/n) was here, she would always drag him somewhere, she had wanted to go to. To go shopping, a picnic, a play, an opera, to watch duals, or to eat. He always felt tired after those things, but at least it brought him excitment.

(y/n) often made sure he would eat flavorful foods and her favorite foods, to the point that he knows everything she likes.

(y/n) often made a ruckus in his home. Always talking, calling servant’s, squealing at her romance novels, and chatting with everyone.

'At least the manor was never deadly quiet whenever she was around...' he thought of as he smirked.

Wait. Why is he thinking about her?

He should be happy that she is no longer bugging him as often as she did.

He saw you outside. He was shopping for new cufflinks. His were "getting out of style" his secretary had told him. Maybe it was just a ploy to get him out of the manor, but he still went out nevertheless. He was in a jewelry shop. Unconsciously, he went to the one you often visited. The man knew who he was anyways, so might as well cut to the chase.

"Ah?! Your Grace!"

The man seemed to be looking for (y/n). "Where is Lady (l/n)? Doesn't she often accompany you?"

He just stood quiet for a moment before his secretary popped in. "His Grace is here to get cufflinks."

The man's eyes brighten. "Ah. Lady (l/n) has already thought of that for you. Please wait here Your Grace."

He brought out a box that he had gotten from a certain part of the store. He opened it, and there were square shaped, dark blue jewels, bordered with small diamonds, the metal gold. It looked like it suited him. Very well. She knew his taste well. She knew what he liked.

"If Your Grace does not like it, you can commission another..." said the man selling him the product.

Alaric shook his head. "No, it's perfect."

He signaled at his secretary to give him a generous check in his name as he left the shop, only to find you, looking at the ocean view from across the shop.

Why did it look like you were looking for something?

More importantly, why did it look like you were looking for someone?

You wore a bright dress, your favorite lace gloves, your prettiest sunhat and carried your favorite parasol.

He was confident that he was the only man who has ever had a very close relationship with you, other than acquaintanceship.

Wait, why was he thinking this?

Why should he care if you saw another man. This is an engagement of convenience anyways. There is no point in scrutinizing every man that either comes or came in your life.

But if you were going to be talking to men after him, they better be better than him. He was not going to be beaten by some half-rate man, who has never held a sword in his life, who has never had to train often to live up to your a standard(s), who has never had to deal with the responsibilities of being a duke from the moment he was born, who has not needed attention from you, and who has never lived up to your ideas of love.

He wasn't going to lose to a man who never even knew you like he did.

But he saw you were being accompanied by a maid after his thoughts had raged through his head. He walked closer towards you. He saw you.

Your eyes had seemed like the eyes that often looked his way when he greeted someone. Not like their lively selfs that he was so used to from you. Your eyes always shone brightly when he was in your presence.

Your smile, one of formality, not your genuine one. You smiled the brightest whenever he was around. Anyone could tell with that smile that you loved him.

You looked like any other person he had interacted with. Formal and in-line with etiquette.

Even your speech was formal. It was no longer bright and cheerful. It was no longer, "Alaric! What are you doing here?", it was now, "Pleased to see you, Duke Caius."

"It's pleasant to see you too, Lady (y/n)." he responded back.

You nodded you head while a wave of silence came through. He didn't talk, you didn't talk, both of you were looking at the distance of this port.

'She is rather quiet. Too quiet..." he thought in his head. Often she was the one who started up a conversation.

"I'm very sorry Duke Caius, but I must leave. I am shopping with a friend, and I wouldn't want them to keep on waiting for me, so, please excuse me."

You started walking off slowly, but then he spoke. "Would you like for me to escort you?"

You turned your head. He thought you would be smiling and agreeing to his suggestion immediately, holding his arm in a loving manner and chatting with him the entire way, like you used to do whenever he had brought out that idea.

But you had shook your head. "No, but thank you for your suggestion, Duke Caius. My guard is nearby here anyways."

You walked off as he could only look at you and your maid walking. He didn't even realize that his secretary had came back, as he only chased after you in the same direction.

He saw from a distance, you holding the arm of some man. A dull man. He was mad at that moment, but his anger wasn't towards you, it was towards the man you were with.

You had became more distant with him. Avoiding him at every moment, like he was the plague. Every time he noticed her, she had seem to always step away from him, with every step she had taken, walking away from him instead of towards him like they used to do.

At parties, you would often avoid him, while his arm was being stuck onto by Lady Thompson.

Social events had you talking to the ladies, sparring no time for him.

Outings with no small talk.

Every little thing you had done to distance yourself from him, almost drove him insane. His head now full of questions for your sudden change in personality. In the span of a few weeks, you had all of the sudden became the most formal person on earth, to the point people started questioning the legitimacy of the relationship.

"It seems like they will break up soon..."

"Are we sure they are engaged? Lady (l/n)'s sudden change in personality must mean something..."

"How sad this relationship had to come to. It feels like they are in a married’s quarrel!"

"I heard that Marquis (l/n) is planning on annulling their engagement..."

"Really?!"

These nobles and their chatty lips. These rumors meant nothing. (y/n) would never let something like an annulment happen to them.

He was bewildered. Shocked. Almost appalled with this letter.

He thought that she had delivered a letter to write to him once again, but this time, this letter was from Marquis (l/n).

Dear Duke Caius,

I regret to have informed you, that I am making a selfish and personal decision to annul this engagement between you and my daughter. I have came to this decision after her reaction and my bewilderment at the Royal Ball from 4 months ago, after you had escorted Lady Alina Thompson instead of my daughter.

I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and as a father, it is painful to constantly see your daughter in constant heartbreak from the very boy you had known since he was young.

When your late father and I had planned this engagement for the both of you, I knew I would have to give up my precious daughter to a man I could trust, not a little boy who has yet to grown up.

You have yet to proven to me that you could be a man I could trust you with my only child, my daughter.

I wish you well and hope you will continue to collaborate and see the (l/n) house positively and as allies.

Sincerely,

Marquis (l/n)

The letter came with the annulment papers with it. He quickly looked through the papers too see your signature on them and your thumb print.

He stood quiet for a minute, before chuckling. "(y/n)...oh (y/n)..."

He felt like ripping the papers to shreds in the very moment.

You were happy for once in your life. You had met someone special to you. Arthur Johnson.

A stableman who engaged in conversation with you when he was working for your family. He always had a kind demeanor. soft spoken, and was often willing to hear you. Despite your age gap with him (being 10 years), his status as a commoner, and his rugged appearance, you felt like for the first time in your life, you had actually met your prince charming.

He took on dates to the crowded places like small festivals and the farmer markets. Your first present from him being a cheap pendent necklace from him.

His personality was well liked by everyone as he seemed to have a good relationship with everyone.

His voice was deep and attractive, smothering your ears and causing you to blush around him whenever he talked.

He always called you 'princess' or 'my lady' whenever out and about with you, causing you to be flustered at such comments.

He had introduced you to his ailing mother. You never felt so bad for anyone. You had offered to help him, but instead he rejected such offers from you. "My lady, you really don't need to help us..."

"Nonsense Arthur! Your mother is sick and-"

He always shook his head. "I do not want to rely on my lady to always help us. Thank you for the idea though."

Elliot was boring.

Gregory was pretentious.

Adonis was suspicious.

Adrian was paranoid.

But Arthur, was a gentleman.

Until you never heard back from him one day.

He had holed up in his manor until something had happened. He had gotten news of you being spotted on dates with other men.

Afterwards he had a reason to leave the manor from this point onwards. You were with a man after man often times. Talking, chatting, flirting, and being brought around with. He had his secretary look at the backgrounds of those men.

Low-ranking noblemen, and sometimes even commoners.

The perfect people to direct his anger at. After all, what are those families and people associated with them, are going to do against the wrath of Duke Caius and the Caius Duchy.

All of the sudden, these men had been riddled with debt and their families in financial ruins.

A son of a baron, tricked by a scammer he had paid for. He had fell for it, meaning he was too naive and not needed for (y/n), who was just as equally naive.

A son of a viscount, conned and arrested for the possession and the selling of forged art. The real artwork, costing millions, and in his own manor. He "might" had hired an artist to help him with it, paying off their own debt and giving them money. He was too irresponsible that he didn't even check to see if the artwork was genuine. (y/n) would had lived a life of cleaning up after him.

Another son of a baron, swallowed by loan debt after taking out loans to do his playboy schemes. He often bought expensive stuff in order to impress the women he was trying to bed with. Where did he get the loans from? He sure doesn't know, does he? He had troubles with infidelity. He will he constantly cheating on (y/n) if Alaric didn't catch it early enough.

A son of an earl, swallowed in gambling debt by him. He had seen him in the casino houses, and he thought why not taunt him. Plus, he paid off the casino house to always make him win no matter what. He was a gambling addict, spending his days holed up and gambling his money away. (y/n) would be left to die on the streets with nothing if she had been with him.

A stableman, in loan debt as well, after he had offered to help him with his ailing mother. But now his mother dead, and the loans still needed to be paid off. Otherwise, he could just kill him and sell his organs to the black market to get all the money back from him. Guess what option he did. He was poor, and poor men don't deserve her love if they cannot give her what she wanted. Plus, he might just brag often about his now, new lifestyle if she were to be with him.

The stableman was the most annoying in his eyes. His last words before he had slain him were, "Protect her for me, please, for this old bachelor..."

All of these men strengthen his point overtime. That he was the perfect man for her.

He is skeptical and less naive.

He is responsible.

He has never had issues with infidelity that he has known of.

He has never been financially irresponsible with money, nor has he gambled.

He has always had the ability to give her everything she has ever wanted.

He came to the eventual conclusion.

No man could replace him.

You felt trapped.

A rumor had spread around about Duke Caius's wedding day coming up. You thought he was just going to get married to Alina, but instead you and your father were summoned by His Majesty.

He was congratulating you and your soon to be wedding day. "Congratulations Lady (l/n)! You must be a happy bride. And you too Marquis (l/n)!"

You and your father were confused, but still acted like everything was normal, until you brought it up. "Excuse me Your Majesty, but who has told you about this. I thought I had wanted it to be a smaller event..."

His Majesty let out a gleeful laugh. "Duke Caius came to me last week, talking about how now he had decided to plan his wedding. I thought it was a splendid idea! And thus I had given him permission to use the chapel. He seemed elated at the idea, and thus was willing to plan the wedding himself."

Your eyes widen as you nodded. Your head blanking out the entire time. 'Isn't that impossible, unless...'

You went running out of the palace, finding a carriage to use to get to the Ducal Manor. You needed an explanation of what was going on.

Once you got there, you immediately asked the butler where he was, only to see Alaric, looking happy to see you as he came down the stairs to the front of the manor.

"(y/n), my bride! You are just in time for your dress fitting."

He snapped his fingers to have the servants taking you somewhere as he followed, you resisting. "Wha-? No! Alaric, I have to ask about something!"

He smiled in front of you. The previous you would had elated and been happy at his smile. But now it felt uncanny. Like something was off.

"You have finally called my name..."

You gasped as the servants kept on dragging you to your dress fitting. His hand over his heart as he looked like a sad puppy all of the sudden. "Do you know what it feels like to be called one name for my whole entire life with such endearment, only for it to be taken away?"

"No! That's why I'm not here! LET GO OF ME!"

He snapped his fingers as the servants let go of you. He walked towards you, as he placed his hand on your cheek. All you could feel was how cold it was. Like it was ice. You looked directly at him. "I am here to ask, why are we getting married?!"

His puppy face came back, as both of his hands cupped you face. "(y/n), I thought this is what you had wanted..."

Your eyes widen as he looked directly at you. "A big fairy tale wedding, your dream dress, your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet, true love's first kiss...isn't this what you had wanted all your life?"

This is what you had always wanted, but not like this. Not while Alaric had this sudden shift in personality and when he felt completely different form the Alaric you had knew.

But also, when your feelings for him had wavered like tides in an ocean. "But I thought the annulment had gone through..." you had said to him.

He chuckled, soon going onto full blown laughter. "(y/n), I know you still want to get married to me. So let's have the wedding of your dreams." he said while placing a kiss on your forehead, something you would had blush at, if everything about this wasn't sketchy.

"But! But!"

"No buts. We are getting married in 9 days anyways. Now, let's go to your dress fitting!"

Everything was too sketchy these past 7 days. Alaric had a sudden change in personality. An extreme one in fact. He all of the sudden became loving.

Following you everywhere.

Bringing you onto his lap while he works.

Having picnics with you.

Having tea with you.

Being your dance partner for practicing.

Locking you in his manor and giving you a splendid guest room while at it.

Coming into your room and reading you to sleep.

Increasing security around you.

Feeding you himself, personally.

Disciplining the male servants if they had touched you.

And the most weird one, not leaving your room, even while you slept.

He had changed, but for what? Now all you felt was creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior. Every single little thing done by him almost felt suffocating. Like he so desperately needed you to either be beside him or to in this manor.

You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted to talk to people again. You wanted to see your father again. You wanted to go shopping again. You wanted to see Arthur again. You wanted to do the things you did. You wanted to leave this suffocating manor for once and do something other than being restrained by him.

So you snooped. When he left, you went around his office. Previously, you had always barged into his office, always running your mouth in a tasteless way. But this time, you had avoided his office, unless he dragged you to it to be with him.

You looked around with something on your mind. "He must have the annulment papers somewhere..."

There was a family portrait of him and his father in his office. A portrait must mean that there's something behind it. Touching the frame, you opened up a secret compartment that was full of bank statements. "Elliot Lancaster, Gregory McClain, Adonis Lovesett, Adrian Hill, Arthur Johnson..."

All the men you had been with. The bank statements had shown how their wallets had gone empty in the span of a week or two.

Elliot and his family had gone bankrupt and sent to an island in the north.

Gregory had been charged with forgery and sentenced to 3 years in prison.

Adonis had been bankrupt and charged with assault against a Marquis for mingling with his wife.

Adrian had been cut off from his family due to his gambling addiction, and has now gone further in debt.

And Arthur. The nice man Arthur. His body was never founded when his mother reported him as missing.

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at the other pages. He had planned it. From the financial debt to killing Arthur and selling his body parts on the black market. Each paper described the reports of the deeds he had done.

Especially for Arthur. His was the most gruesome one. Chopping him up into bits and selling his innards to the black market while dumping the rest to the ocean on Beckett's Beach, where you took your first date with him.

You couldn't help but squat out of fear immediately. Were you responsible for all of these mens' demise?

Would Elliot and his family still be living in the capital in peace if he never met you?

Would Gregory go back to being his artistic and art loving self if he didn't buy from that one painter you had told him to buy from?

Adonis was already kinda shitty.

Would Adrian change if you had stayed with him?

Would Arthur still be alive if you never noticed him?

You didn't know, and that's when you started crying. Your tears fell down rapidly like waterfalls. The papers, the bank statements, the pieces of news, the reports, all of them now wet with your tears on the paper. You couldn't help but feel for them, especially Arthur.

Arthur was now dead, and his mother soon meeting him.

And it felt like it was all your fault.

"We'll always be together, my lady, this old stableman promises."

Crying alone in Alaric's study, you thought about the moments you had with Arthur. They were all going to be a faded memory of the past. If only you weren't so naive and if only you knew.

"Why is my bride crying?"

Your head turned to see Alaric at the door of his study. You gulped as you got up, dusting your dress while at it. "I-it's nothing, Alaric..." you stuttered, trying to hold back your tears.

He came close towards you as he looked at all the papers on the ground and the portrait, open. He chuckled for a bit. "Did you read these?"

You shook your your head. "I just...found them, that’s all. I swear I didn't read them!"

He looked at the papers, then at you. You could tell he knew that you were lying. He always said you were an open book and how you wore your heart on your sleeve. "Don't bother lying (y/n)."

He pointed to the part on which you had stained with your tears. The paper transparent as he put the papers down on his desk, walking closer to you. Each step growing closer, each step he took feeling like he was mad. Each step felt like an eventual punishment for your actions. "Why were you snooping around in my office, (y/n)?"

You answered with the first thing on your mind. "B-because! I just...w-wanted to l-look around, Y-your Grace..."

"I told you..." He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "Call my Alaric once agin, (y/n)."

His words laced with anger. He was speaking almost like he was threatening you. He looked at the pendent around your neck. Almost like he never noticed it before. Taking the pendent in his fingers, he looked at it obsessively. "Who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

You gulped instead of speaking. His hands felt cold when he touched your cheek, looking at you with his angry eyes. "I said, who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

"A-Arthur..." you mumbled.

"Who?"

"ARTHUR!" you said even louder before he started laughing hysterically.

"That peasant? Why bother keeping something cheap around your neck. I thought you hated these things?"

You used to, but now this necklace represented Arthur. "I-it's none of your b-business, Alaric!" you yelled out.

"It is my business. Considering you are to be my wife soon, something like this is unacceptable for a Duchess..."

He slowly got closer to your ear. "Especially if it came out that a peasant gave you such a thing...I wonder what would happen to your father...for allowing you to be romantically involved with a man of dirty origins..."

Your eyes widen. "Arthur isn't like that! You don't know him!"

You tried to walk out, only for Alaric to hug you from behind, holding you in a tight grip. You felt like you were losing air by the second once he held onto you. "He's never told you? His mother was apart of a brothel..."

You breath stopped as he whispered more into your ear. "He was the illegitimate son of a noble...people like that deserve to be killed for grasping an ounce of your attention..."

You tried to get out of his grip, but instead he had ripped off the necklace on your neck, letting it fall onto the floor and walking off to his desk, letting you go. You cried as you turned back to look at him. "You-you monster!"

He opened a velvet box with a diamond and sapphire necklace, placing it around your neck, smiling. "My beautiful (y/n)..."

He gripped you arms tight, dragging you to the mirror in the study while putting the necklace together, smiling.

"We will be together forever and this necklace, is to symbolize your new life as Duchess."

You only looked at yourself wearing the necklace as Alaric's hands kept you still.

"You can never leave me now..." he said, as he kissed your cheek.

You in your wedding dress as he went out into the hall.

Walking down the aisle with your father.

The flower petals dancing around you.

The songbirds singing their songs.

And your once dream husband at the alter.

"Do you take Duke Caius's hand, in sickness and in health, in wealth and or none, in forever lasting love?

"...I do..."

The final words of your previous life.

A/N: A part 3 for married life or not?

Taglist

@sirenetheblogger @wickedace12 @cyzvx @mel-vaz @blobbythebigblob @loucyberv @nikosovercoat @wintercloudyweather @insomniac1345 @a-living-person @kitcatfullmoon @happy-smiley @springkuinn @sunflower19561904 @hayatslife @oneandonlydice @nanaluvv @imnotabot28 @resident-cryptid @fluffyduckzy @starsdotalk @helloimamistake @pinkwitchdeservesbeingpraised @moyazami @whocaresimnothere @your-average-potato @runawaymf @redchocolate-bunny @sweet-flowering @droaxa @angie2rjebesttt @ersharyzst @lovley-valentine7 @maskedvoyance @xiaopleasecomehome @cynoswife @barbara-228 @uninhibitedsworld-18 @bea-ginner @imsamilol @lithespidy @grassclippingssss @reni502 @forgottendreamer02 @haileybb123 @nourrr123 @strawberrylips-1211 @usagikookiejams @blisyxx @twismare @despuyuh @majestichugs @ayatosneakylink @vivyolite

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

fellow + gidel ssr time fellas

(This bastard took an entire soft pity :(( but hey, I got a Dorm Uniform Jade dupe and finally FINALLY my first Dorm Uniform Floyd on the way, so I ain't too pressed about it.) RISE UP FELLOWIVES NOW’S YOUR TIME

***Character profile, voice lines, Groovy, and vignette spoilers below the cut!!***

First off! His official profile, coffin, and candy (Fox Candy):

(School) Grade/Class: None

Birthday: May 17 (Taurus)

Age: 26

Height: 181 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Hometown: ???

Club: None

Best Subject: Mathematics (specifically Arithmetic)

Hobby: Watching theater

Dislikes: Saving money

Favorite Food: Apples

Least Favorite Food: Potatoes

Special Skill: Sewing

We finally get confirmation of Fellow’s age! (He had previously said in Playful Land that he was 20-something.)

I love that Fellow’s best subject is math Deuce is jealous/j; it makes so much sense given that his inspiration, Honest John (and Fellow himself) aren’t good at reading. It’s that whole “kids are either good at math or English” stereotype. In Japanese, the phrase 算数 is used. 算数 refers to arithmetic, or very basic math taught in elementary school (adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing). That specific phrase explains Fellow’s elementary level of understanding. His dislike being saving money is also related to numbers; he spends the money he has right away to get by in the moment. Fellow doesn’t really have the skill or the luxury of financial planning, he has to focus on the here and now, looking out for both himself and Gidel.

OMG, his favorite and least favorite foods???? 😭 Playful Land has apple (core) flavored candies and popcorn… and again, this is a reference to Honest John and Pinocchio’s first encounter! He takes the kid’s apple and eats it, lol cnsvwiwguwkw Potatoes being his disliked food… Maybe it’s because it’s the “poor” man’s vegetable? Because potatoes are so versatile, keep for a long time, and are filling because of the starch content, Fellow might resort to eating them a lot, so perhaps as a result he got sick of the taste.

What I find most interesting about Fellow’s profile are his listed hobby and special skill. He largely comes off as despicable and a slimy scammer (which he is, don’t get me wrong), but we can see different sides to him in these details—both the inner child that had his dreams trampled but remains hopeful about the future and the big brother figure/guardian to a child. Gidel is actually formally referred to in Fellow’s profile as his (non-blood related) brother, which made my heart melt 🥺 TWST must know I have a thing for beastmen who act shitty but are actually excellent mentors to the children/j

Fellow enjoys watching theater. It’s a way of transporting you away temporarily to new worlds with crazy stories and emotional performances. When words aren’t enough, you sing. And when singing isn’t enough, you dance. It’s an area that’s so full of life and joy, at least from the audience’s perspective. I’m thinking that watching theater must have been a form of escapism for Fellow, especially with how accessible it is (think of like street performances). Watching theater might also serve a dual purpose of teaching Fellow how to come across as amicable and friendly, which says a LOT about his character. He’s resourceful and able to learn from unconventional sources, then is able to apply those skills to real world situations.

Fellow’s special skill being sewing is surprisingly very cute! If you’ve taken one look at his and Gidel’s designs, we may have already spotted some of his handiwork. There’s mismatched fabric patches on their clothes!! The stitches look so clean too. The patterns not matching is probably because Fellow just used whatever scraps he was able to get his hands on, but I also like to imagine that he tried to make the best of the situation by incorporating the mismatched fabrics in a fun way (like the diamonds in his pants).

Next, can we talk about the composition of that GROOVY????

It’s another reference to the same Pinocchio scene! Fellow’s holding his book like Honest John did and it looks like he’s trying to teach Gidel the alphabet from words scratched on the sidewalk. Notice how the C is written backwards too 😂 He even wears glasses like when Honest John was trying hard to act like an intellectual.

And Gidel!!! Pencil and pad of paper in hand, he looks so interested to learn (something which was hinted at in Playful Land). Gideon in the film is also shown with a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down nonsense as Fellow pretends to diagnose Pinocchio.

Gidel glances up at Fellow with an expression of admiration. I love how wholesome their relationship is depicted as, it leaves a warm feeling in the heart.

The framing of this Groovy is very interesting. We have Fellow to our left—a direction has historically been associated with evil (in Italian, the word for left is even sinistra, as if to imply something sinister) and in the darkness. Gidel is the one to our right and in the light. It presents Fellow to us as someone who has given up on his dreams—but not completely, since we see some light touching his hat, gloves, and highest features + he is currently teaching Gidel and still has dreams of opening his own school. Gidel is shown in the light because he’s still a naive child that doesn’t understand how the world works. His dreams haven’t been destroyed yet, and there’s hope for him to have a better life since Fellow is looking after him and instructing him.

CHECK THIS OUT, GIDEL FOLLOWS FELLOW TO CLASS LIKE MARY'S LAMB OR SOMETHING????? Gidel pops out from under the desk or out of/behind Fellow's cape! Gidel also joins Fellow on the homescreen.

Some of Fellow's expressions are so priceless... For example, look at him in Flight! There's an unsure face and a little bead of sweat. (He makes a lot of pathetic accompanying sounds too, lol) Flying takes magic, so he's probably not confident or powerful enough to maintain flight for long stretches of time--though when he does nail it, he looks ultra smug.

ADGKVAVFOOEFIEQOfsl HIS SHOCKED FACE

How uncool, Fellow-san...

His attack sprites are very similar/identical to what we saw in Playful Land--Fellow's just playing for the opposite team now.

Gidel hops into battle to assist, so I guess they count as the first two-character card. It's been a while since I've seen these animations, but I think I can appreciate them a lot more now. I'm noticing new little things like how Fellow adds a bunch of showmanship into his attack, little flashy flourishes and even presenting Gidel with his arms splayed, as if welcoming a star to the spotlight. The attention to detail really is crazy for these.

If you want to read his voice lines in full, you can find an excellent fan translation of them here! I'll just be remarking on things I noticed while combing through the voice lines myself:

First off: bro calls himself Fellow Hones-SAMA???????? OKAY, KING 😭 Love that confidence you got goin' on there...

bifabsiyofbefe Love how he just reads a textbook and then flat-out admits he has no clue what the heck it's saying. Hey, honesty is a virtue.

Ace 💀 He has the balls to play a prank on an adult... I kind of want to know what the prank was, but at the same time I feel like I should be shaking my head and telling him off for doing it in the first place. I do appreciate that Ace being shitty brought out Fellow's true personality there for a second though, I live for it when Fellow gets real steamed and starts shouting that the NRC students are brats or that they should drop out if they have no motivation in school.

The way Fellow automatically clocked that Kalim is way too trusting and would surely be in danger even if he wasn't the one to come for him... Fellow, watch your back. Jamill WILL come for your sketchy ass for what you did back then.

I didn't find anything super interesting in Fellow's comments about Ortho, but I do think it reveals that there is value in him coming to school. It's only at NRC where Fellow can see such a curious thing like Ortho, and that speaks to the value of really going out there and being exposed to different things. That's part of Lilia's own growth arc too, and a large part of why he now spreads that same rhetoric.

Fellow remarks that Ramshackle is "pretty sweet", which means one of two things: either this is the refurbished post-book 6 dorm OR it's still the shabby pre-book 6 dorm, but since Fellow and Gidel have never really had their own stable housing, even run-down old Ramshackle seems like a massive upgrade.

Fellow and Gidel must have been so happy to see that lunch at NRC is free and served buffet style (so there's no limits to how much you can take). On top of that, they got dead chefs from 5 star restaurants staffing the kitchen! Those two really hit the jackpot, I hope they eat well.

AVUSDGVUADOVIAISDBIDAS THE DIALOGUE IMPLYING FELLOW CASUALLY BYPASSED THE SCHOOL'S BARRIER AND OTHER SECURITY MEASURES... So Chenya-core of him, really. Fellow may not have magical might, but he's seriously street smart to have found a way in like he has.

Small detail but I appreciate how Fellow has lines which call attention to Gidel. It doesn't just remind us that Gidel is there too, but it also demonstrates to us that Fellow actively tries to include him in the conversation despite Gidel's muteness (a condition which may lead others to outright ignoring him or talking down to him).

LAST THING (though it's not in MysteryShopTL's linked post): in his birthday greeting to the player, Fellow says that both you and him don't have talent for magic, so you should get along. I didn't think the game would acknowledge the player and Fellow's similarity in that sense, so it was very nice to be proven wrong.

And to finish off this post (which ended up being way more massive than I thought it would be), a quick summary of the vignettes!! If you want to read them in full, please check out MysteryShopTLs’ post!

In vignette 1, Fellow and Gidel are putting on a street performance in Silk City. Fellow collects fees from the onlookers and then tries to milk more out of them by spinning a story about how Gidel is a puppet that can walk without strings. Buuut Gidel moves like a normal living being and sneezes, which ruins the ruse and leads to the crowd getting mad at them. The duo run off, but Fellow reveals that while the locals were looking at Gidel, he used magic to steal some of their precious metals and jewelry. In the next vignette, Fellow and Gidel have moved on to Fairest City. It's said that they live a nomadic lifestyle and hop from place to place, never staying for too long in any one location because word of their scams may spread and cause a situation where they cannot reasonably make money through their lies. (Cute detail: Fellow listens to Gidel's suggestions on where they should go next and even praises Gidel's smarts.) This time Fellow's trying to auction off a magestone that he claims will allow anyone who holds it to use magic. The people of Fairest City don't believe him and give him the cold shoulder, which upsets Fellow (since he really hates it when others look down on him). He ends up using his UM to get his audience to be more pliant and manages to sell the magestone for a pretty penny. At the end of this vignette, Fellow drops a line about how he and Gidel are so free, how they can do whatever they want since they have nothing holding them back. I really love that thought~

AND IF YOU THOUGHT VIGNETTES 1 AND 2 WERE FUNNY HAHA TEEHEE CUTE, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE VIGNETTE 3 💀 VIGNETTE 3 FELT LIKE IT WAS A TARGETTED SNIPE ON MY HEART

The setting is Sunrise City! Fellow and Gidel are being chased off by an angry person they tried to rob. It looks like they're unsuccessful today and will be going hungry. Gidel tries opening a random can of OIL in search of food, so Fellow scolds him and tells him to leave it be. Apparently Gidel does this a lot when he's hungry (just grabbing random shit and trying to eat it), even though Fellow has tried teaching him how to read. THIS IS WHAT THE CONTEXT OF THE GROOVY IS, FELLOW SQUATS DOWN (like we literally see his 2D model lowering) AND DRAWS IT ON THE GROUND FOR GIDEL TO SEE. O is for orange, I is for ice-cream, and L is for laugh. Fellow realizes that L is the only non-food word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. I wonder if like... this is some common game they do to distract from hunger. They have to imagine the food they could have but can't. And L being "laugh"? That can't be a coincidence. Fellow could have used any other L word as an example, even if he couldn't come up with a food that starts with L. It makes me think he picked "laugh" on purpose in an effort to lift Gidel's spirits and to try and distract from their circumstances.

Aaaah, as I was saying! Fellow gets upset that he doesn't know as much as your average 26-year old would since he never went to school. Gidel seems to sense his frustrations and reassures him with a pat, which reenergizes Fellow. He says he'll try to find some food, so Gidel should focus on making a fire. While gathering wood to burn, they come across a job posting by a shady rich man that Fellow and Gidel supposedly did another job for in the past. Fellow suggests that they check out the job and if they don't like it then they can leave. ADSKJBBSLDIADBLUBAB These are the events leading up to Playful Land... meaning that Fellow’s showmanship is wasn’t something he developed at the amusement park, but as a general coping and survival mechanism to get by day-to-day.

I uh. May or may not have cried a little at Fellow and Gidel's really wholesome interaction 😭 I MEAN YEAH OF COURSE I'M A SUCKER FOR BIG BROTHER CHARACTERS (and we certainly see that in how Fellow scolds Gidel and looks out for his wellbeing, both in the vignettes and in Playful Land) but also???????? ? ? ? ? ?? ?????? ? ? ? ?? I love Love LOVE how Gidel is shown to be supportive of Fellow as well. Fellow as the older person, the adult, and the able-bodied one of the duo is pulling most of the weight when it comes to getting resources and handling communication. However, Gidel plays an important role in their dynamic as well. He's the heart and the emotional support that Fellow needs when he's down in the dumps and being hard on himself. Gidel not only serves as a "reason" for Fellow to work hard (to support a child), but he also gives Fellow motivation and hope that tomorrow can be another day. YOU CAN REALLY TELL HOW MUCH THESE TWO CARE AND LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER OTL

OOOOOOOoooOOooOOGGHHHH MY HEART *clutches it* I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I CAN'T HANDLE THE ONII-SAMA OF IT ALL

[shaunashipman]

i told my friend i would find him some beginner’s giffing tutorials, but all the one’s i could find were either years out of date, used a method that made me go “huh”, or incorporated ready-made actions. all perfectly fine, but if i’m sending someone a tutorial i’d rather it be one for a method i understand enough to help with.

so, here is a beginner’s guide to giffing, as told by cleo, a neurotic, detailed, and organization happy individual. there will be many pictures.

this tutorial will strictly cover the gif making portion of the process, from getting your screencaps to importing in photoshop, resizing/cropping, and sharpening. i was going to briefly go over colouring, but tumblr only allows 30 images and i ran out of space, so i'll have to do a separate colouring tutorial (which also means i can go into more detail, yay).

downloading the videos, whether direct downloads or t*rrents, is also another tutorial. but make sure you’re using at least 1080p, and the bigger the file the better. a single episode of a ~45 minute show should ideally be 2gb at minimum. a full length movie should ideally be at least 5gb. imo 2160p/4k files are not really necessary; the quality increase is negligible, and it takes a lot longer to screencap them. if you do use 2160p/4k files, try and make sure it is not HDR, as those videos are often washed out and require a different screencapping program to fix.

Programs

I am using a cracked version photoshop 2022, but whichever version you use should be pretty much the same

Actions. not a program but a function inside photoshop, where you essentially record a series of steps, and then you can simple play that action when needed and those steps will repeat, which saves considerable time when giffing. I will note which parts of the tutorial are best saved as actions, and explain how to create actions at the end.

For screencapping i use kmplayer it’s free and very simple to use

not at all a necessary program, but i use freecommander instead of the regular windows file explorer as i find the dual panels very helpful when moving the frames around

Screencapping

there are many programs you can use to get the screencaps from a video, a lot are basically the same, some are better suited for particular video file types. kmplayer is a very simple program to use, but afaik the capture function only works on mkv. files (the only other file type i’ve tried is mp4, which plays but does not capture)

once you open your video file in kmplayer, we’re going to open the advanced capture window, found under capture→advanced capture, or alt+v

the window should look like this

A-this is where all your screencaps will save to. i recommend making a specific folder for all your screencaps

B-make sure this is set to png for best quality

C-this is the number of screencaps you want to take, guesstimate how many you will need, keeping in mind that most videos are approx. 25 frames per second, and you should always cap a bit more than you think just in case

D-make sure “every/frame” is selected and set to 1

E-make sure “original” is selected, resizing will be done in photoshop

F-make sure “correct aspect ratio” is unselected

go to the part of the video you want to gif, and pause it just slightly before that part starts, then select ‘start’. the screencaps will start to save to the file, no need to play the video, and will automatically stop once it has capped the number of frames you have chosen

and here is how they look inside freecommander. i have already made a folder for this gifset, which is on the left. now you’re going to make a folder for each individual gif. i’ve decided this one will have four gifs, so create four folders (i just label them gif 01, gif 02, etc) and then move the frames for each gif into their respective folder

while you can always delete frames once the gif is made if it’s too big, i prefer to make sure i have the correct number of frames before i start. the gif limit on tumblr is 10mb, so it’s good to look at the scene/shots you’re giffing and decide approx. what dimensions your gif will be. full size gifs have a width of 540px and your choice of height. if you go for a square gif (540x540) you can usually fit 40-50 frames. if you’re planning for a smaller height (such as 540x400) you can usually fit more around 50-60 frames.

and here are the caps inside the folders. another reason i like freecommander is it’s ability to “multi-rename” files. the default file explorer can do so as well, but you have to do each folder individually and you can’t customize the new names as much. either way, i prefer to rename the files to each gif just to scratch my organization itch.

Introduction to Photoshop

NOTE: i have changed many of my keyboard shortcuts in photoshop to ones i prefer, so any you see listed in the menus of these screenshots are likely not the original shortcuts. you can see and change them yourself under edit→keyboard shortcuts

quick run-down of the photoshop interface. i have adjusted placement of some things from the default so this isn’t exactly how your photoshop will look when you open it, but everything is labelled, either on top or by hovering over the element. once you’re more familiar and have your process down i would recommend adjusting the workspace to suit your process.

A-your main tools and colour selector. almost all the tools have either several tools in one, or have alternate options which can be accessed by right-clicking the tool. you can also hover over each tool to get a pop-up with a quick explanation of the tool

B-additional “windows” such as history, properties, actions etc. can be opened from the window menu at the top and moved around with click-and-drag. history and properties should already be there by default, but probably on the right hand side instead. each window opens and closes with a click

C-the timeline window where the gif is made. the white square is a single frame of a gif, and on the row below is the play controls. this will not be there by default and will need to be opened from the window menu

D-adjustment layers for colouring

E-layers box. this is where the screencaps will show, along with adjustment layers, text layers, etc.

Opening Screencaps in Photoshop

go to file → open navigate to the folder for your first gif, select the first screencap, and check the image sequencing, and click open

a window will open labelled frame rate. set it to 23.976 and select ok

the screencaps will open in the timeline view, seen as the blue panel line at the bottom, and the screencaps are combined into video layer in the layer panel on the right.

Creating Frames

technically, you could go right into your cropping/resizing and sharpening from here, however if you do that directly then you have to keep the screencaps in the folders you have, otherwise if you save and re-open the gif it won’t move.

this next part should be made into an action.

at the top right of the timeline window, click four vertical lines to open the menu and select convert frames → flatten frames into clips. depending on how long the gif is, this can take a minute.

the layers panel should now look like this, each frame of the gif is now its own layer.

the very bottom layer will be the video group. this can be deleted as we’ve made the frames from it

in same timeline menu as before, right under “flatten frames into clips”, select “convert to frame animation” and the screen should now look like this. this will be the end of this action.

Cropping and Resizing

with widescreen footage, sometimes it’s just shorter than 1080p, but most of the time it will have the black bars on the top and bottom, and frustratingly, they’re not always the same size. it’s good to save the most common sizes as actions.

to find the size of the actual screen you turn on the rulers under view→rulers and check the height. then open your canvas size dialogue box under image→canvas size and change the height, making sure pixels are selected in the dropdown. yellowjackets is what i call “xtra wide” which is 800px. “normal” widescreen is 960px.

next we’re going to resize the caps. i also make actions for this, one for each potential gif size. open the image size dialogue box under image→image size and change the height of the image to your desired height plus 4 pixels. these extra pixels are to prevent a line at the top and/or bottom of your completed gif. now re-open the canvas size box, change the width to 540px, and the height to the desired, removing those 4 extra pixels. i have set this one to 540x540. this is where you would end the resizing action.

and as you can see she is off-screen. select the top layer, hold down shift and select the bottom layer to select them all, and with the move tool (the very top one) activated, click and drag to move it left to right as needed to centre the figure/s. as you move it a box will appear telling you how far you are moving it in any direction. make sure you are only moving it left or right, not up or down. to be certain of that, open the properties tab.

the y axis is your up/down, x is left/right. for this gif the y needs to stay at -98. you can also manually change the x axis number instead of dragging the image. also helpful for making sure multiple gifs of the same shot are all positioned the same.

the layer are currently ordered with the 1st at the top and the last at the bottom. with all layers still selected, go to layers→arrange→reverse. the last layer will be on top now. if there is movement in your gif, check if you need to alter the position again to make sure the movement properly centred. but once you are satisfied with the position, the layers should be in “reverse” position, of last layer on top. this is to ensure that the gif plays forwards.

Converting Gif

this should also be made into an action, going through sharpening process

in the timeline menu, select “make frames from layers”

the frames are now populated in animation window. in timeline, click select all frames. go to any of the frames on the bottom and click the little arrow beneath it, select other, and enter 0.07 seconds. this is not a necessary step, as we will have to adjust the frame rate at the end, most likely to 0.05, but if we don’t change the frame rate here, then when we play the gif while working on it to check how it looks, it will play very fast.

in the same menu at the right of the timeline box, select “convert to video timeline”

then, making sure all layers in the panel on the right are selected, go to filter→convert for smart filters. this turns all the layers into a single smart object.

but if you look where i’ve circled, it says the gif is 99 frames long*, when in fact there are only 47. if you are making regular “scene” gifs, basic colouring and maybe a caption, this is fine and does not need to be fixed, it will play at the same speed. if you want to change it to display (approx.**) the correct number of frames, go to the timeline menu on the right, select “set timeline frame rate” and change it from 30 to 15

*if it does not list a frame number by 4 digits but instead says 5f, 10f, 15f, etc. go to the timeline menu on the right, select panel options, and change timeline units to “frame number”

**the reason why this is only approximate is because the actual frame rate is not a a whole number, so when changing the frame rate it isn’t a 1:1, and 47 frames becomes 50 frames. the extra frames are removed at the very end, but if you are not doing any edits that require working frame by frame, there’s no need to change the frame rate here at all

Sharpening

this is, as it sounds, making the gif look sharper. to start go to filter→sharpen→smart sharpen and this window opens. play around with the dials to see what each ones does. the below settings are good for most high quality footage.

Amount-basically, how sharp do you want it

Radius-hard to explain, but this essentially sets how deep the lines of the sharpness are

Reduce Noise-smooths the pixels

once you click okay your single layer should look like this.

you’re going to then right click the layer and select duplicate layer. with the top layer selected, go to filters→blur→gaussian blur and set the radius to 1.0 pixels.

then change the opacity of the top layer to 10%. this is to essentially soften the sharpening a bit, as if it’s too sharp it can make the colouring wonky. this opacity level can also be changed depending on need.

finally, select both layers, right click, and click “group from layers”. your gif is now fully made and sharpened.

Colouring

yeah. ran out of image space. but this is where you would do your colouring and add a caption or any other text.

Converting & Exporting

when all your colouring is done, you’re ready to start saving your gif. you can do it directly from your current file, but that means essentially losing your colouring, as all those layers will be merged together. i am someone who likes to save my psd’s (photoshop files), at least until i’ve posted the gifs, in case i need to fix something in the colouring. if you’d like to keep yours as well, open the history tab and select the first icon at the bottom “create new document from current state”. this will open a copy of the file in a new tab. save the original file and you can close it, continuing all work on the copy file.

select your all your layers, convert them into a smart object from filter->convert for smart filters, then follow the same steps from Creating Frames above. once you're back in frame animation, select Create Frames From Layers, and once again set the frame animation speed.

most people set the speed to 0.05. i personally set it to 0.05 or 0.06 depending on the length of the gif. check how it looks at 0.05, if it seems too fast, try 0.06.

now to save. go to file->export->save for web (legacy). the number is the lower left corner is your gif size, it needs to be under 10mb or else you'll have to delete some frames.

the right panel is your save options. the preset dropdown has some built-in settings, but you won't use them because (at least on my version) the presets only go up to 128 colours, instead of the full 256. the 3 i've highlighted in green are the only one's you'll adjust as needed. the settings below i use for i'd say 90% of my gifs. i'll sometimes change the adaptive dropdown to one of the other options, ocaissionaly the diffusion, and rarely the no transparency dither, but play around with them and see how they change the look of the gif.

when you're satisfied with the look of your gif, click save at the bottom right of the window.

voilà! you now have a gif.

Actions

this is your actions panel. the triangle on the left side is the button to open it. remember, if it's not already there, go to windows->actions to open it.

the buttons on the bottom, left to right, are stop recording, record action, play action, new folder, new action, and delete.

as you can see, i have different folders for my resizing, sharpening, captions, saving, and my 1 step (temporary) actions. to run an action is very simple; click the action, and click play.

to create an action, click the new action button, a box will pop up, give the action a name, and click record. the record button at the bottom of the action window will turn red. now perform all the steps you want it to record, and click stop recording. keep in mind it will record every single thing you do, including in other open files, so if the action you plan to record will have a lot of steps, it might help to write them down first.

to modify an action, select the step in the action above where you'd like the new step to be, hit record, perform the step, stop recording. select the step you'd like to delete, and click the delete button.

steps within the actions can be clicked and dragged, both within that action and moved to other actions. actions can also be moved between folders.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Sebastian and William t spears trying to one up each other using reader

tw: noncon, double penetration, overstimulation, degradation, competition, size difference

All characters depicted are 18+

William has a very strong distaste towards Sebastian and demons in general, one he will make well known, and while Sebastian isn't as verbal about it, the feeling is very mutual, in fact he'd want to wring the Reaper's neck if it wasn't for his young master's orders and William's death scythe. But even two bitter adversaries are allowed to have a bit of friendly competition.

At first William will scoff at the idea of engaging in such a frivolous game, especially with a demon, but Sebastian knows how to push people's buttons without letting his butler facade crack. Sebastian will tease William and taunt him for apparently being inexperienced in bed, and not wanting to be outdone by such a foul beast, he ends up caving.

It isn't easy for the demon butler to pick up a poor unsuspecting lady or servant girl with his good looks and charms, one who'd be naive enough to follow a stranger like him just because he's pretty, although he wouldn't pick anyone demonic, that would either turn William off completely or excite the reaper a bit too much at the prospect of dominating a member of a species he so despises.

Sebastian won't give up on his venomous taunts against William even when he's balls deep inside of the young woman's pussy alongside the reaper, delighting in his attempts to make the cold and professional man lose his unbreakable composure, at least slightly.

"Hmm~? Is something the matter, Mister Reaper~? If you keep going that slowly you'll never be able to make our little morsel cum, much less achieve climax yourself..."

William isn't going to allow himself to lose to a horrid demon of all things, even if it's at something as insignificant as bringing some helpless human girl to climax, his hips thrusting up in a mechanical movement as he fucks into her, his cock sliding lewdly against's Sebastian's inside of the tight and wet space they're sharing.

The sensation of getting fucked by two different yet very similar supernatural beings is too much for the poor girl, and it's a wonder that she can withstand the dual penetration without passing out from the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. Sebastian with tease her as much as his butler facade will allow, while William is almost completely silent the entire time, making a few low noises whenever he cums.

Sebastian isn't going to allow himself to be bested by William at something he himself is already very good at, he has more experience with human women, having slept with multiple of them for information or just for the pleasure of it on many different occasions, and being the suave demon he is, he knows exactly what filthy thing to whisper in her ear to make her weak in the knees.

William doesn't want to lose this little game either, while he isn't as rough, sadistic, or vocal as Sebastian, he's much more precise, having enough knowledge of the human body due to his line of work to hit all the right spots to leave her a writhing and whimpering mess between the two hellish creatures, that is until the barrage of sensations taking over her body becomes too much to bear.

"Humans are so pitifully feeble. I counted only five orgasms and you've already fallen unconscious, such pathetic endurance. Well, it seems as this has concluded in a draw, demon..."

They're both rather disappointed that they weren't able to reach a definitive conclusion on which one of them is superior in bed, but it's a minor setback, they aren't mortal beings like humans are, so they have all the time in the world to settle this petty little dispute they are having.

[skyenish]

You’ve got the same eyes as your mother | Riddle Rosehearts animatic 🌹|

———

I’m not really happy with how this turned out but I’m gonna be honest, I’m just doing anything possible to avoid having to work on stuff I should he working on and drawing is suddenly difficult again, but we keep fighting! Fuck it we ball‼️

(Did you notice I didn’t want to draw the Heartslabyul boys? I love them dearly but they’re my least favorites to draw by FAR, because Ace ily but that hair makes my hands want to explode)

Anyways, here is my little Riddle analisys! Its so tragic to see how much like his mom he’s become. Riddle really isn’t mean or evil, he’s trying to help his dorm in basically the only way he knows how. Perhaps it also shows how abuse victims can become abusers themselves, but on a smaller scale? I am not well read on this topic though, so I hope that’s not insensitive to say. It’s just cool to see how most of the Overblotters become like the people that played a big part in their lives. Azul becomes a “bully”, Jamil becomes a “master” who uses others like servants, Leona becomes dismissive of others, and Riddle becomes like his mom. There are parallels there I think!

You know, Riddle is a very interesting character. Out of all the Overblotters, I’d say he’s the least “evil” person (that’s not to say that the others are evil), in the way that he’s the least selfish, and he’s also the only one who properly apologized. Though, the others also apologized in their own way of course.

Riddle really convinced himself that was he was doing was good, that he was in the right and that he was only protecting the dorm and teaching them the proper way. One of my favorite moments from book 1 was when Riddle cried and apologized, and said that he really wanted to eat that chestnut cake, and he doesn’t like most of the rules! Also of course the line “what rule do I have to follow to make my heart stop hurting”, it truly is devastating.

Sometimes I wonder how Riddle feels when he looks in the mirror, and he sees someone so similar to his mother. He probably feels conflicted, right? He loves her and knows she’s highly succesful, but why does he feel sick at the thought of him being similar to her? I find it interesting how dual and contradictory the overblotters are, and Riddle is no different. I have this headcanon that his housewarden uniform is modeled slightly after his mom, and after his Overblot he changes his uniform, and it resembles her less. I really like Riddle’s character, but I don’t think about him that much. Maybe I should do that more often?

I hope you guys like my interpretation of him and my rambling, and if you didn’t I’d love to hear your interpretation! And if I got something wrong, please correct me in the comments!!

[click4rainy]

Dating a lizard Man//Syzoth Boyfriend Head Canons

👽: He’s so cutie patootie frfr

❌:Not Proof Read

🖇️: Syzoth x f!Reader

⚠️ :freaky lizard man, (up to your interpretation) dual penetration, cunnilingus, biting, edging, idk if I left anything out but he’s so fine isn’t he? OH, and breeding kink kinda implied? (Definitely)

SFW 💚🦎

★ Syzoth is kind and nurturing. Despite going through immense loss—he still holds that aspect of himself. He’ll often check in just to ensure you’re okay.

★ “Are you feeling alright, bug?” “Are you sure?” “Do you need anything?” “Are you hungry?” “Have you drank water today?”

★ He’s open about his grief, but only when he feels safe enough to share it. Sometimes he’ll tell you about his family with a bittersweet tone, grateful that you’re willing to listen.

★ Syzoth never wants to burden you with his immense guilt. No…But in nights when the memories are too much for him, he allows himself to lean on you. He will hold onto you tightly—as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear too. Your touch often the only thing that can ground him from his despair.

★ He isn’t interested in grand gestures or gifts. He thrives on small, intimate moments. Sharing a meal, late night walks, fire fly watching, or simply enjoying a movie in bed together.

★ He’s honestly so thoughtful, like remembering the tiniest details about you, kind of thoughtful. Your favorite flower, the way you like your tea, and even the books you’re reading. “I saw these flowers on the way back…I think they’re the ones you wanted for book marks. I don’t know, either way they made me think of you…”

★ Syzoth knows what it feels like to hide who you are, given his shape shifting ability and the stigma that comes with being Zaterran. With you, he’s completely himself and encourages you to do the same. Your little hype lizard.

★ He’s does this thing (usually when you’re alone and not particularly doing anything important.) where he’ll suddenly get really close to your face and stare at you intently. This habit (even though you’re used to it) catches you off guard from time to time.

★ “you’re doing it again…” You’ll say with a quirked brow. He leans in closer, still staring intently. “I just can’t help it, love. I can’t keep my eyes off of you…” He answers honestly, his eyes tracing every line of your face shamelessly.

★ Syzoth naturally gravitates towards warmth, which often means curling up to you when he’s feeling a bit too cold. He’ll quietly rest his head on your lap or pull you into his arms, justifying it with a cheeky comment. “What..? You’re practically a walking furnace…” he says with a sly grin “let me borrow some of this heat you horde.”

★ He loves soaking up the sunshine. And if you’re outside together, you’ll often find him lying on his back with his eyes closed, taking in the warmth with a gentle smile. It’s one of the few moments where he looks completely at peace. And you’ve learned to just let him bask while you do your own thing nearby.

★ “I don’t understand how you can just stay there like that for hours…” you tease. He smirks, not bothering to open his eyes. “It’s absolute bliss for us cold blooded creatures, bug. Absolute bliss…”

★ This man will use his forked tongue to “taste the air” gauge his surroundings, especially when he’s in his true form. It’s an instinctive behavior. But he’ll use this ability to playfully taunt you as well. Flicking his tongue in your direction—making you roll your eyes. “You smell nervous.” He quips with a smirk.

★ “I smell just fine, thank you very much.” You retort, lightly swatting at him. (for being right.)

★ He isn’t prone to outward displays of anger. But if he’s upset, he’ll let out low rumbling sounds, or even hiss. It’s a subtle but telling sign of his irritation. And it’s cute as hell.

★ If you’re the type to tease back, Syzoth will respond in kind. By playfully stalking you of course. His movements becoming deliberate and slow, almost like a predator.

★He’ll sneak up on you when you least expect it, his footsteps silent as he follows your scent, his eyes fixed on you. When he finally catches you, his touch is light but teasing, his breath fanning against your skin.

★ “Trying to run away from me?” He asks, his voice coming out in a purr. “You’re not fast enough.” he adds, moving closer. “You’re clever, but I’ve never been one to let my prey get away.”

NSFW 🦎💦

★ He doesn’t mind being a bottom if that’s what you want baby! But he’s personally more of a top. He loves whatever you love. He’s gonna make you cum regardless. “mmmh, absolutely.” “Whatever you say, love.” “Is this what you want?” “Must I really keep my hands to myself…?”

★ I’m saying he’s got two of em. Not elaborating.

★ Syzoth, with his love for warmth, is quite touchy. His hands roaming your sides up and down before sliding into your bra, toying with your nipples until they perk.

★ He likes to bite. Sometimes he’ll bite too hard, sending a jolt of pain and pleasure throughout your entire body. you pout, but he softly hushes you with a murmur, licking his lips and finally pulling away, flicking his tongue over the bite mark, soothing the pain slightly.

★ Of course, he loves to worship your body with his long, dexterous tongue, tracing every curve and contour, leaving absolutely no inch of soft skin untouched. Pinning your thighs in place, he eats you out like no tomorrow.

★ Reaching places you never knew could have feeling, your hands gripping the sheets as he looks up at you through his lashes. He moans, barely audible against your pussy. Lapping at your clit before thrusting his tongue back inside of you, just barely tickling that sweet spot to make you desperate and reeling.

★ He gets off on edging you. Until you are a sweating, crying, whimpering mess. “What’s wrong love?” He croons, feigning ignorance while using his index and middle fingers to spread you open—exposing the fleshy, slick heat to his hungry gaze, his breath teasing every nerve that makes you arch and squirm.

★ He takes his time teasing you, bringing you juuust to the brink of ecstasy before backing off, only to start all over again.

★ Syzoth loves it when you give him head. It’s double the fun. Literally. Your soft, plump lips wrapped around one of his thick, pulsing dicks as your fingers stroke and caress the other. The dual sensations of your hot, wet mouth and gentle touch drives him wild.

★ He’ll tangle his fingers in your hair, (or grip the melon you never know) guiding your head and bobbing it on his length. “That’s it, love…mmmh, perfect~” Your muffled moans vibrate around his sensitive flesh, and it only spurs on his onslaught of face fucking.

★ Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, he’ll yank you up and pin you beneath his muscular, cool form, one cock plunging deep into your slicked cunt while the other seeks whichever entrance you’ll allow.

★ “You drive me absolutely mad. I want to ruin you for anyone else…” “ssso good…sso warm…”

★ Rocking into you, desperate and needy, rutting his hips against yours as he fills you utterly, stretching you deliciously while nibbling your shoulder, both cocks fucking into you simultaneously.

★ His tongue snakes out, tracing the curve of your ear before he nips the lobe sharply. “I'm going to fill every inch of you” “Fill you until you’re dripping with my seed.” “When I’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is the feeling of me splitting you open.”

★ He will fuck you for hours—relentlessly. Until finally he hilts inside you, twin cocks throbbing and pulsing. He grunts and shudders, picking up pace once again, pounding into you roughly while his claws dig into your hips. his thrusts become more sloppy, less coordinated.

★ “Want to see you round with my brood,” he grunts, or something similar, slamming in one last, merciless time, flooding your insides with his virile seed. He pulls out, a river of pearly white cream oozing from your well fucked hole(s) “Marked you inside and out.” he purrs, watching his semen drip out of you before falling beside you.

★ He immediately pulls you in close, cradling your head against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. But once he regains some composure, he’s the epitome of a cuddle bug. Stroking damp strands away from your face, kissing your forehead, cheeks and nose. He murmurs praise and words of affection.

👽: I LOVE HIM UGHHH. If he gave me a cup of his cum milk I’d drink it.

[crypt1d-c0re]

straight creachin'

TFP SOUNDWAVE!!!!!!!

straight up, i love soundwave's design in tfp. it's so creature!! the digitgrade legs. the long skinny arms. the visor. the three dual knuckle fingers and a thumb.

i just love staring at its design and seeing the way everything fits together so perfectly. they really and truly cooked with this one. i do think soundwave is one of the best designs in the show, along with shockwave. they pushed "alien robots" so hard with those two designs and honestly, i think we should bring that vibe back.

while i do love my humanoid esque robots, i think we should make more room for Fuckin Creatures. give me more mechs that can be described as "no normal cybertronian, inside Or out."

which, by the way, can we talk about how fucked up the autobots treat soundwave and laserbeak?? like okay. i know that theyre at war, and i know that they're enemies. but they give fuckin megatron more dignity and respect than they do soundwave and laserbeak.

ratchet straight up suggests doing unconsensual brain surgery on soundwave. ratchet, wheeljack and raf plant a fake bomb inside laserbeak and corrupt her coding with a virus. like. guys, those things are war crimes. and the show never addresses that!! like?? what are you saying? its okay to commit war crimes against your enemies??? aren't the autobots supposed to be taking the moral high ground??

and again, i do get it from an objective standpoint. millions of years of war will do that to you. will push you. will change you. will break you. so i get it.

but i just think its very interesting how the show depicts laserbeak and soundwave's autonomy as something that is debatable! laserbeak is described as a drone and the autobots use it/its pronouns for her him, while the decepticons at least use he/him pronouns. ratchet uses the excuse of "well soundwave isn't normal" to further his agenda of cracking soundwave open! soundwave's alt-mode is a predator drone! its alt mode is the only UMV in the entire show!

i honestly could go on forever about this. i have so many thoughts about tfp soundwave in terms of autonomy, personhood, and identity. [squeezes soundwave like a stress ball] you are so important to me.

[tokkimins]

Oh man. I cannot get over how much this chapter has fuelled my interest in the manga again.

We’ve gotten dual reaction panels before but this just takes the cake. For the first time ever (I think), Sebastian is finally the one on the receiving end. HE’S the one in the splash zone, and Ciel is the one on the sidelines going “Damnnnn that shit sucksss.”

The only other time I can think of where Sebastian has been specifically targeted was during Noah’s ark with William. But even that just amounted to putting a slight limit on Sebastian’s autonomy. There was no question as to why Will hates Sebastian or vice-versa. (It’s not even like Sebastian had a track record of eating souls in William’s area specifically lol).

THIS, on the other hand, is possibly the most human problem Sebastian has ever had to deal with.

Someone is angry at him for something he did*. I can’t believe I’m saying this but… bro is finally facing the consequences of his actions... and we’re ACTUALLY gonna see him face them, RIGHT? (hopefully, probably. I’m begging you Yana please do something with this).

*If I were to vaguely speculate about what it is he did: “dragged me into the depths of hell” makes me think that Sebastian somehow got this person turned into a demon or something. Or at least, something non-human. I’m not very good “theorizing” so I’m just gonna leave it at that and let myself be wrong LOL.

Either way though, I’m so glad other ppl are picking up on how emotive Sebastian was in this chapter. I think this is the biggest range of reactive emotions we’ve seen from him in a single chapter. It also feels like this is the first time we’ve seen Sebastian lose composure in a way that doesn’t suit him.

He looks weary which is such a rare emotion to see worn on him. I’d even go so far as to say he looks slightly frightened in this particular panel. We don’t even change art styles here. This is genuine confusion on his face. And what a treat that is to see.

Judging by his reaction, I think we can safely say this is probably one of the strangest encounters Sebastian has ever had. Which to be fair, considering he’s probably killed or eaten almost all of his problems, it makes sense that this would come as a surprise.

With how confused he is, I’m honestly even considering memory loss as a sort of explanation.

What really hooked me though is the fact that Sebastian isn’t eager to kill this guy instantly.

When I read this part I initially thought this was completely OOC for him. I mean… “settle things peacefully”?? Who are you right now? Bro was literally just asking if he could kill everyone in the hotel like ???

It’s so unnatural for us to see Sebastian get concerned and actually reflect upon himself. The only time he ever mentions his own memories of his own volition is when he’s boasting to Ciel about having attended some major event in the 900 BC or some shit.

Overall, it’s just nice to see Sebastian be put under some pressure for once. He hasn’t had a personal conflict beyond “someone’s taking my dinner away” for a while so this is very refreshing to see.

After all, we’ve seen Sebastian look a bit weary or surprised before (ex. the twin reveal) but even in those moments, his reactions have never lasted beyond a panel or two. He’s always been able to jump back to his normal suave-butler attitude on a dime, so I really like that we end the chapter on him staying weary.

I truly hope this leads to something substantial… and that revealing some part of this “past memory” will actually affect the present (maybe even affect his relationship with Ciel or how Ciel views him).

[peachypede]

Au: What if humans had pokemon types?

The idea struck me after seeing some of @bluebellowl ‘s art of Ingo and Emmet wielding flames and electricity and I was thinking ooo what if humans had typings.

Then I made an au with a bunch of headcanons…

More below the cut

(Almost forgot to add that I took some inspo from @critterbitter ‘s Elesa hairstyle because I love how they draw her hair in the back all spiky, electricy like in some of their drawing just yes)

- most humans are purely 1 type, but a rare person may have a dual typing. (Ingo and Emmet are dual types that cover their least publicly liked typing with their more favorable type)

- Some types are more stigmatized and feared than others for have abilities/features that are frightening: Bug, Ghost, Psychic, Poison and Dark types are the 5 most stigmatized groups.

- Most humans have very small or weak abilities, but some are capable of amazing feats.

- Humans tend to favor pokemon partners that share their typings since it’s easier to connect and communicate but some people do like opposite or different typings.

- When babies are born, they’re given a test to see what type they are so their parents will know how to handle their abilities.

- Each types abilities include:

Normal - Sadly, this typing doesn’t get much special abilities. They’re normal humans. A very, very rare normal type can send a hyper beam out of their mouth.

Fire - Can control small flames and are fire resistant. They can warm their bodies up to feverish temperatures without being sick. Some can breathe fire and have flame like hair. Fire types often have irrational fears of water.

Water - They can control small amounts of water. Their skin gets dried out easily and they have to take showers frequently or have humidifiers in their homes. A few individuals have gills that allows them to breathe fully underwater.

Grass - They can breathe life into plants and cause flowers to bloom. If they have a garden, they’ll produce giant and delicious fruit. Some can make plants move on their own, but this is a rare ability. When happy, a lot of grass-type people will sprout plants on their heads. Some even have plant like hair.

Electric - Able to cause small electric shocks and store bits of electricity. Can turn off and on appliances without touching them. Those who take time to learn can communicate with electric Pokémon using the electrical language all electric types know. They can also talk to humans in electric language who are electric types as well.

Ice - Freezing to the touch and tolerant to below zero temps. They can freeze the surface of water by touching their hand to it. They’re a rare type that hardly leave frosty mountain cities and towns because they’re prone to overheating in warmer weather.

Fighting - Stronger than other humans, but few reach true inhumane strength. Rare individuals have an extra set of arms like Machamp. Most take pride in their strength and hone their skills their entire lives.

Poison - Immune to poisons, some even have poisonous breath or saliva. Most of them have to wear masks around people who aren’t fellow poison types. Some individuals have multicolored skin, like frogs warning others that they’re dangerous. People of this type like steel types, because they can remove their masks for once around these people who are immune to them.

Ground - Can feel vibrations in the ground and if they learn, can properly use this as another sense of sight and see things underground. Rare individuals can make the ground shake and have long claws for digging. Some families are known for living underground where they feel more at ease.

Flying - they have a very keen eye for long distance sight. Lots of people with this type have wings. Not all can fly, since one needs large wings and hollow bones to do so, but some can. Most however are gliders. Some have feathers instead of body hair.

Psychic - People with this type usually have one “talent” ability, such as levitating objects or seeing the future. It’s rare for an individual to have more than one of these talents but it has happened before. They’re seen as power houses amongst the other types for their special abilities and usually are seen offering their services in exchange for coin.

Bug - They can attract a lot of bug type pokemon to them via pheromones and with practice, they can even control them. Like ants, bug types can talk through pheromones like alerting to danger, creating trails, or even just generally talking like electric types do (its not all just attracting mates although bugs are more likely to be attracted to other bug people) Grass types dislike the smell of bug types, whereas flying types get hungry around them. Rumor has it that bugs can control others through their pheromones but its just a rumor. Pheromones make it easy to persuade, but can’t truly control people.

Rock - They have skin as tough as rocks and most can dig through rock itself. Rare people look like a cluster of rocks themselves. They dislike water since it erodes away their skin, so they take mud baths and showers instead.

Ghost- Many can float above the ground and go through walls. Similar to ice types, They are cold to the touch. They can see ghost type pokemon even if they are invisible. Rare abilities are being able to see and commune with human spirits. (And only once a century is there an individual who has truly open eyes and can see the entire world of the dead walking amongst the living) People who fear this type spread rumors that ghost types are evil and can raise the dead to do their bidding, but these are only rumors.

Dragon - Noble types that are descended from long blood lines. A lot of individuals have scales and wings and claws. Rare ones can breathe fire. Once in every 100 years there will be a dragon-type who can communicate and wield their type’s pokemon with high efficiency, even mighty legendaries. Families of dragons can be very prideful and look down on other types. Noble families don’t like their children mingling or marrying other types.

Dark - A stigmatized group to the point that their typing is labeled as the “evil” type in some languages. Many have a bad luck effect on the people around them and some can sense disasters before they happen. Dark types often are lonely because of their bad luck charm abilities make other people wary of them.

Steel - Most in this group have skin that shines like a type of metal and are able to bend metals in their hands. They’re immune to poison and bug types abilities, and often are friends with these stigmatized types because of this.

Fairy - This group have small magical abilities and unluck the dark type, they have a lucky effect around them. Some individuals have wings, some have unnaturally colored hair. Fairies have a high social standings with other types because they’re thought to do nothing wrong, when fairies actually often have trouble makers in the midst of them taking advantage of this.

[kaq3yma]

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ft sakura haruka

syn: in which you spend a day in his home, taking care of your sick-boyfriend.

⸻ contains: very slight hurt to comfort.

qeena's brief note: can you tell? that im really bad with synopsis TvT i need to improve everything including my synopsis so help me huweeeeee and YESSSS i change my gifs lol idk why i did this but hm i think i'll change it back if i prefer the old ones ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) BEHSBSKSHSJS ANYWAY.... this time, a good ole fic for my koochie koo baby sakura haruka 👅 that's all everyone, thank you, i love you, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated and happy reading xoxo 🩷💚

"He's a monster." Sakura was used to this, getting picked on, belittled, and criticised for something he didn't ask to born with. Well, at least he thought he was used to this but no, because if so, why does this stinging pain aching inside his heart hurt so much? The pain was a heavy weight on his shoulder making it impossible for him to stand up straight. He keep on looking down, not bothered to look up, even if he didn't, he's sure all eyes on him, on his weird hair.

"̸͉̭̎̇Ḩ̸̡̙̜̞̱͎̘̻́̃̔̓͐͂͑̑͘͠ế̴͇̽͆͊͑͑̈́͠'̸͕͇͍̺̗̭̱̠̘̬̀̋̂̅̚͝ş̷̜̹̺̜̀̋̒͊͘͝ ̶̬͉͎̮̯̩̿̀a̶̟̹̰̩̘͋̄͆͑͋̈́̅̕̚ ̴̨̦̖̗̦̓̃̔͐̀́́̆̒f̵̡̢̛͇͕̮̤̳̱͌̊̚͜ŗ̶̢̪̠͉̳͕͔͍̾͌͊̊̉̈́̓͘ḙ̶̢̡͖̯͈͇̹͖̇ͅą̵̨̫̠̳̮̞͈̀́͑̌͐͒͂̍͗̑k̷̹̟̫̗̐̊́́͗̋̈́̈͂̍.̵̧̧̩̖͚̟̋̈͐̉̾̉͜ͅ"̴̟̽́̈́̿̉̌̓̒̔͠

̷̴̡̡̨̘̝͈͉̦̼̳͎͎͇̣̑̂̂͆̃̃̈̉̌̔͠"̷̧͗̂͋̑̔̎G̴̡̫̪̣̳͙̘̫͔̈͛̆̐͘ó̴̲̇̽̓́̾͐͠͝ ̵̧̪͙̝̣̰̘͉̪̦̐̔͆̽̿̒̉̈́̓̚a̵̞̝͍̮̬͙̗̿̓͋̅͐̈̋̽̌ẅ̶̤̠̱́̓̏̇͛̄̇͘ͅa̷̯̻̥̰̯̍̃͋̓̏̃̋ÿ̵̩ ̸̜̏̅́̽̓̈̈̈́͘͠m̴̻͚̉̓̽͆̾ǫ̴̛̘̇́̑̂͜n̶̻̤̖̞̯̗͎̣̺͒͂̂̑̽̑͝ś̵̥̹̮͎̫̜̣̈́̆̒͘t̶̥͈̩́̎̈́̍̿͋̀̆̕͝e̸̡̢̪̎̿r̴̨̯͈͖͎̻̦̃͋̂̾̃̃̀͘͠,̷̫̳̭̄̄̀ ̷̻̹̖̟͉͎͔͛̚ļ̵̟̯̱̜͙̜̹͈̽̂͋̓e̴̦̻̳͂͐̒̈́̄̉͘a̵̻̙͓͙̐̓̿͛̎͋̽̓͝ͅv̴̩̜̠̅͆́̑̊̏͑́͘e̶̦̫̻̞̦͖̩͈͖̎͛̇͒̀̄̀̿ͅ ̸̢̛͓̼̣̻s̶͖̙͈͐̽̐̎͆̚c̸̩̱̠̝̤̣̻̿̈̂ḩ̵̧̧̥̯́̔͌̾̕ͅo̴̟̘̻̫̟̰̪̹̬̊̀͆͂̄́͒̓͠͝o̴̞̩͌̕͜l̸̖̝̹̤̮̮̋̄̍͌̚!̸̰̻́"̴͇̩̟̗͖̭͓͓̅̿͋͆̄͆̆̑͜͜͝

̷̸̗̥̜͎̖̹̝̬̔̿̃͐̔̏͑̎̑͑́̐̍̚̕͝"̵̨̢̯̠͉͉͚̳̖͍̎̿̋̓͆̽̈͠Y̵̧͇̳̤͙̗̪͚͍͓̅̀͘o̵̫̫̊͐ų̸̡̮̹̣̮̱̔̇̓͘ͅ'̸̳̻͍́̆̉͌̉̒̕̕ȓ̸̡̢̰̰̭̫̗̐̽͜e̶̹̥͒͌̌́̾̿̓͋͝ ̴̼̝̈́̌̽̂́́͠ṃ̶̩̖̲͓̊̿̃ã̴̱͇͈̠̲̖̣ķ̴̡̼̜̘̞̘̤̎̎̿̾͂̆̀̈́̌į̴̢̡͍̦̭̜̰̮͌̈́͆͐͌̿̿̔̾͜͝n̴̡̧̩̼̖̣̣̚͜͠g̵̛̮͓͈̯̪̞̍̿͒̆͆͜͝ͅ ̷̧͓̮͔͙̗̈͝p̸̐̾̀̾͋̃̓͐͜é̵̥̞̦̞̒̔̅ͅo̴̤̯̮͚̝̝̦̦͉̳̊̓̆͆͝p̶̧͖̫͍̥̹̊͒́̋̃l̵̡͚͚̘̥͈̜̭̒́e̷̢̦̻̒͂͝ ̷̦̣̪̖̍͑̅̅̃̚͘u̵̞̣͈̲̭̗͛̏̑n̴͙͇̪̩̥̻̙̜͆̋̔͂̓̈̒̕ͅͅc̷̛̤̪̯̠̻̔͂͂̊͘͘o̴̙̘̦͇̘̞͗̎̂͆̽̕͜͠͝ṃ̴̣̟̘̣͓͛͂̓͆͠f̵̡̝̖̬͖̟̣̼̻̈́̓̕o̶̡̩̣̙̟̬̤͇͈̽͊̒͂̑͐̑͜͝r̸̡̺̲̼̬̻̰̹̹̬̊̿̉̾͊̍̽͠t̶̲͒̑͝a̶̧̛͙̾̇̐̈́͝͝b̴̧̪̳̔̈̉̐͗͋͠͝͠ĺ̴̡̨͚̳̂̍̈́́̏͒̋ḙ̶̪̮̗͕̺̻͋̈́̿̾̕͝ͅ,̵̨̯̒́͌̽́͊̋ ̸̝̂͂͒̆̚͝Ṡ̶̥͈͔̺͈̎̐͒́a̷̡̰̤̪͚̟͇͇̟̍́͒͊̇̚͘͝ͅk̴̛̙̭̙̳͍͕̺̋́̃͛u̶̺̔̽̀̍̇̇̑͝r̴̢̢̭͖̗̝̣̳̬͛̓̉͛ą̶̢̛̯̖͎̙͕̹͆̓̂̒̃̚

"̴̢̛̋̀̇L̴̺̚ḝ̵͔͔͋̓̍͐͜ͅȁ̶̧̘̜͍̯̖̼̪̟̀͐̇̅̏̿̎̉v̶̧̟̻̭̙̭̬̜̺͕̓̃̀͝͠ę̴̫̙̰͇̦̱̝̯̀͑́̄͘͝ͅ ̴̧̛̛̙̺͎͈̄o̷̤̒̈͠u̸̧̫̥̲͕͊͌͂̌͌͊̚̕͠r̸̨͉̪̩̲̙͉̞̂̽͜͝ ̸̨̪̹͎͚̩͉̹͂̄̔͛̍̈̽̍͘͜t̷̘̯̟͙̰̗͇̩̃̂́͛ơ̷̲͋̃̃̆̓w̴̢͔͍͙̩̜̹͓̪̆̏̋̋̅͆n̵̝̯͊͊͝,̵̜͈̭͍̳̖̾̐ ̸̼̠̬͎͈̩̻̓̆̔͐̌͋m̴̛̪̬̲̙͓̪̝̃̾̓̅̄͘͘o̸̠̪͚̫̤̺̬̿̈́n̶̢̹̹͓̞͓͊͋̉͋̾s̸̡̼͚̣̫͎̘͓͋̂̎͛̓̌̓t̴̛̘͙͓̝̦͈͙̪̣͗͒̉̆̅̽͗͝é̸̳̲͔̹̤̳͈͛̆̈̋͜͠͠ṙ̶̡̙̜͔̬͉͎̦͑́́̐̀̂̀͊!̴͈̘̻̹̮̱̘͎̺̾͗́̒̌̍̾̄̓͠"̸̧̯̩̮̠̬́̃̆́̿̏

The words plague in his mind was like a swarm of dark thoughts, multiplying and buzzing in his head, infecting every thought and feeling, turning the world into a twisted and distorted version of reality. He tries to bring his feet further from them but he can't. His feet brought to a sudden halt, he try to run, to pace away from them but he's unable to. Alas, his knees buckle beneath him and he fell down. He's in a void, pitched-black and mute. He can't make out any sound and it's suffocating.

He tries to get up, in search of light, but he fall back down. Terrified, he close his eyes and uncharacteristically, he feel tears prickling beneath his sockets "Help..." He muttered, planting his face down to himself.

"...Ru, Haru." He stir awake, heavy pants in between his rapid exhales and inhales. He look around the room, relieved to realized that it was all a dream. Turning his head down from looking at the leaked ceiling, he saw you, sitting beside him with food and basin with cloth. That's right, he's sick...

You put both the basin and the food down, settling them beside him and sat down in front of him "Are you alright? Are you having a bad dream." The dual-colored hair male turn away, face flushed in embarrassment "As if, bad dreams are childish." You chortle lightly at his remark, knowing it was nothing but a prideful bluff.

"I got you food, would you like to eat it?" Sakura is never one to be comfortable with 'help'. He thought it'd be an absolute burden for a person to take care of someone but after meeting you, he had learnt how to lean onto people, to find solace, especially in you.

He let you place the plate of food on his covered lap, getting him a clean set of utensil and a can of drink "I also got you medicine, make sure you take them, alright?" He kept a poker face but he internally freak out. Why does he have to consume medications? Won't he be just fine with sleeping and enough food to eat? He would never consume it-

"Open your mouth, Haru. It's just one pill." He purse his lips tight, sealing them so you cannot put the pill inside his cavern "Never-" You pop the pill and you watch him pace around the room, acting like he's choked. He grab his drink and drank everything in a go.

"Are you trying to get me kill?!" His eyes widen, bed hair sprung out and face red in humiliation. You stare at him, eyes wide and mouth gape "You're funny!" You laughs, and he can't help but blush even harder. Be glad he's wearing a shirt or else you can see his frustration down his neck to his upper back.

The situation died down after a few moments, Somehow, Sakura managed to cool down his flustered face before taking his place back under his futon to lie down and rest. All whilst you're sitting beside him, accompanying him throughout the day.

"You're still hot so I'm gonna need to put wet cloth on your head." He agreed to it, reluctantly, still a bit skeptical for some reason. But he closes his eyes, letting you take care of him as you please until he feel cold water dripping down to his hair.

He jerk up, body shuddering like a startled cat "Hey, what are you doing?!" He hissed, running his hand through his hair aggressively to get the water access out "That will help subside the cold, Haru!" You pull him down, forcing him to lie down while you wet his hair "Just, stay still." You fold the wet cloth after dipping it inside the lukewarm contained basin and drape it over his head "Done." He opens one eye, squint in to look at you.

You look down, eyes meeting with his yellow and blue grey-like irises. You didn't say anything, just simply staring at him and he can feel his eyes soften beneath your overwhelming gazes "T-Thanks..." He finally said, look away to avoid your eyes.

"I'm always here, Haru." Your hand clasp with him at that moment and he tensed up, startled by your sudden affection but not that he mind, he close his eyes, quietly hoping this time he'd dream of you instead.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 is open. all rights reserved goes to @kaq3yma on tumblr.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Seems a popular theory now going around is that Hong Lu is a homunculus/something similar to that/or that there are multiple versions of his body with the original mind "the eye". I think it's a fair theory to believe since its been revealed H Corp is based on life + his previous musings on the connection with consciousness, mind and body. Any thoughts on that? :o

I have. Complicated feelings about it to say the least. I personally think it's an example of people finding and correctly identifying clues and patterns, but ending up with incomplete or wrong conclusions.

The idea of Hong Lu's body being one his consciousness doesn't originally belong in is one I've been using as one of the major elements of my Two in One theory even before H Corp's full name was revealed. I agree that it's very likely that Hong Lu or Baoyu's consciousness is being stored in his eye and that it can and has been transferred to a different body.

I also think this theory is very much onto something regarding the possibility that Hong Lu's being is sort of "engineered" to become the perfect heir. Fitting for the nature of H Corp as well as the Jias' implied overly controlling attitude, and explaining why all of Hong Lu's siblings hate Him in particular - because his existence as someone the Elders are specifically molding into the perfect successor means their own chances at becoming proper heirs are heavily limited.

However, it's the conclusion of Hong Lu being a homunculus or straight up not human that I don't necessarily agree with. For multiple reasons.

For one, there is very little existing setup to that kind of reveal. We've had setups to Hong Lu's disconnect with his body and weird relationship with his Identity. We've had setups to a potentially dual nature of his self. Hell, we've had setups to the Jia Family being overly controlling and treating him like literal property. But there's nothing to imply he's not human, the way we had foreshadowing to Don Quixote being a Bloodfiend.

For two, I feel like that would overlap too much with other characters' arcs. Mainly, Don Quixote. Donqui's character arc already heavily revolves around her desperately reaching out towards the dream of becoming more human despite her nature as a Bloodfiend. Having another character so soon after her whose deal also is that he's not human and wants to be one is just. Not something I could see PM doing considering how much they've changed when adapting WH in Canto 6 for the sake of avoiding overlap with DOTRC in Canto 8.

And for three, and possibly the biggest gripe I have with this theory, is that it goes against the commentary that PM is setting up for Canto 8. The Jia Family and by extension H Corp are being set up to be people who heavily objectify fellow humans. They treat other people like objects, notably treating Baoyu/Hong Lu like a gem, a treasure they own. With such heavy themes of objectification, you know what would be the stupidest writing decision anyone in their shoes could do? To make that objectification justified by making Hong Lu not actually human.

[sagan-starstuff]

XF Meta: Scully's Medical Training Timeline

At the request of @randomfoggytiger, I wanted to do my damnedest to make Scully's education and training timeline make even a little sense. I'm a physician (specifically a specialist in adult infectious diseases), and it's fairly clear to me that CC and Co probably didn't actually talk to any doctors about how medical training works. Love my girl - I'm a Scully Effect kid, I don't think I'd be a doctor at all if it weren't for the inspiration of Dana Scully. But her timeline is...iffy at best.

Disclaimer: My medical school and post-med school training occurred from 2009-2018, Scully's occurred in the 1980's-90's. From what I can tell, the durations of many residencies and fellowships don't seem to have changed much, but I can't say that for certainty for all programs at all institutions. I am also from the US, so I cannot speak to medical training in other countries.

Our girl was born in 1964, and so unless she skipped a grade (which some schools would do if students were classified as "gifted" or otherwise exceptional, she would have graduated from high school at age 18 in 1982 and went straight to college. Let's assume she didn't skip a grade, for the sake of argument.

You have to have a Bachelor's degree to apply to medical school. These degrees typically take 4 years, though if someone arrives at college with credits from dual-enrollment high school classes or AP exam credits OR if they take summer classes some people can complete them in 3 years. I don't know what the availability of dual enrollment or AP classes was like in the early 80's (and like CC, I'm too lazy to do the research to find out), so we can assume that Scully graduated from college in 1986.

Medical school is 4 years long - no shortening this at that point in time, and even now in almost all cases. So that puts medical school graduation in 1990 IF she's following a traditional timeline and went straight from college to medical school.

Now, if someone is going to go into practice they have to do a residency in at least one of a variety of specialties (Internal Medicine, Pediatrics, Surgery, etc.) in order to be board certified and practice independently. There are very, very few job options in clinical medicine if you DON'T do a residency, so if you want to practice, you have to do it. Residencies can be anywhere from 3-5 years, depending on the specialty. You can also further subspecialize after a residency by doing one or more fellowships (typically 1-3 years depending on the fellowship) before sitting for your board certification exams and starting independent practice. For example - after medical school I did a 3-year residency in adult internal medicine, then a 2 year fellowship in adult infectious diseases to be eligible to sit for the boards and enter my specialty, so 5 years further training after medical school before I could get a job, get board certified, and practice.

Scully is a forensic pathologist. She would have had to do a 3 or 4 year pathology residency (both were options at the time) followed by a 1 year forensic pathology fellowship. You CANNOT perform autopsies right out of medical school, if you are going to be a forensic pathologist you HAVE to do this training. So, following a traditional timeline this puts her as having completed forensic pathology training in 1994 or 1995. Pilot starts March 7th, 1992, so this is loooooong after she's canonically already an FBI agent and teaching at the academy.

But our girl's a smart cookie, so let's take a little leeway with her timeline. Let's say she skipped a grade some time in K-12. This puts high school graduation in 1981. Let's say she ALSO graduates with a bunch of AP credit and does summer semesters and finishes her undergraduate degree in Physics in 3 years. This puts her as starting medical school in 1984, with graduation in 1988. She'd still need to do that pathology residency and forensic pathology fellowship - let's assume a 3 year residency, then 1 year fellowship, so she'd finish training in 1992.

Still doesn't fit.

Let's go totally off the rails here - we know Scully was recruited out of medical school to the FBI, so she didn't do a traditional residency at all - UNLESS the FBI has an internal forensic pathology residency. It would HAVE to be accelerated in some way - some programs combine residency and fellowship by giving less elective time and more focus to the fellowship content. It's not common but they exist. Let's say in theory the FBI has an accelerated forensic pathology residency that takes 3 years, in addition to the 20 weeks of the FBI academy training. This has her finishing residency AND FBI academy training some time in 1991.

This is the ONLY way she could have finished forensic pathology training AND the FBI academy with enough time to be a fully certified forensic pathologist and FBI agent with some time left to teach at the FBI academy before being assigned to the X-Files on March 7th, 1992.

I can suspend my disbelief enough to be on board with this. You'd have to be pretty damned special, which we know she is, to get recruited out of medical school by the FBI. Maybe they even developed the accelerated combined residency/fellowship just for her! She's Dana Katherine Motherf***ing Scully, people!

Now, IWTB is where things get REALLY unbelievable. (Disclaimer: I have not watched IWTB since seeing it in theaters in 2008. I'll get around to rewatching it someday soon. Probably with a bottle of wine. Not a glass. A bottle.)

Mulder and Scully go on the run in 2002. We don't know how long they were in the wind, but by 2008, she's been allowed to resume a career and is practicing at Our Lady of Sorrows. Clearly in pediatrics - but general pediatricians sure as hell don't do stem cell transplants, so she'd almost certainly have to be a pediatric oncologist. We aren't told what her specialty is specifically, but that's what she'd have to be to do a stem cell transplant.

(That scene in the OR isn't even what stem cell transplants LOOK LIKE but that's a rant for another day, back to my point.)

MEDICAL BOARDS DON'T JUST LET YOU CHANGE YOUR SPECIALTY FOR FUNSIES.

(Deep breaths. Serenity now. Ok, let's do this.)

Scully would have had to do an ENTIRELY NEW residency AND fellowship in order to practice as a pediatric oncologist. Pediatrics residency is 3 years long. Pediatric Hematology/Oncology fellowship is 3 years long. In order for this to be even remotely possible, she would have had to START residency in 2002 to finish fellowship by 2008 and start her job at Our Lady of Sorrows.

And she's a former FBI agent harboring a known felon, on the run from government officials and alien hybrids who want her and Mulder dead.

There is absolutely no way even the smallest, most hard-up pediatric residency program is going to accept her with that hanging over her head. I'm not going to get into all the details of how rigorous and stressful the post-medical school residency application and match process is, but even if she didn't apply until she KNEW it was safe to come out from underground, she'd still have to explain a multi-year gap in her resume/CV to the program directors. Multi-year gaps in career and training without a reasonable explanation like a medical issue, time off to care for an ailing family member, time off for research, time away in a different, legitimate career are NOT looked on kindly when applying for residency positions. She would have a HELL of a time getting into a totally different residency.

It could happen - if anyone could do it, she could. But there's absolutely no way there's enough time for her to complete that training by 2008.

"But sagan-starstuff, it's CC, it's X-Files, we know there was no show bible and no one but the fans gave a shit about continuity or things making sense, there's no logic just vibes"

I KNOW, OK. I KNOW. And I love this insane, beautiful masterpiece anyway. I love exploring the possibilities of how and when it all could have happened with my fellow insane Philes who work so hard to glean meaning and order from this perfect mess of a show.

But couldn't CC have talked to one (1) doctor about what medical training is like at some point between 1993 and 2018? Just one?

Anyway. Yeah. That's my meta. Scully's training timeline makes no goddamned sense. Compels me, though.

@randomfoggytiger, this is for you. Honorable mention to @precedex-files who I ranted about this with in messages a while back.

[purplepixel]

What if the turtles were in the pokemon world? And what if they were never turtles, but in fact, mutated pokemon? What if they lived in the Castelia sewers of Unova instead of New York?

Meet my Rise/Pokemon AU!! Waaaah this has been on my mind for MONTHS now. Pokemon is that one fixation that'll never leave me. I'm THAT pokemon fan that knows WAAAAY too much about the games and lore. For those that don't know,

Raph is Drednaw

Leo is Wartortle

Mikey is Torkoal

Donnie is Lapras

Yes. They are all shiny. I started with raph, since him as drednaw is pretty much a no brainer. The shiny form fit too well with him and his color scheme. Than I realized if I made him shiny, I had to make the other bros shiny as well so THEY ALL SHINY. (draxum shiny hunter confirmed?) Also dual rock typing fits well with raph's character.

Wartortle for leo was also a pretty obvious choice. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. Long flowy tail? Yes please. I had to keep his markings somehow. Wartortle has little dark cheek spots, so I just changed them to be leo's markings. Water typing leo. Go with the flow, think on the spot, it worked out too well.

Torkoal for Mikey was another easy one. Fire turtle? Passionate, warm, also DANGEROUS (he can be a menace ok) Say no more. His powers in rise are already pyro related. Also having him shiny helped a lot with the color scheme. Torkoal is normally orange so having mikey be the yellow shiny form meant I didn't have to mess with his mask colors

Donnie on the other hand....OHHH BOI I STRUGGLED WITH YOU. I went through 4 DIFFERENT POKEMON, before deciding on the least turtle like of them all. I am aware that we do have a softshell pokemon with enamorous, but it's a legendary so thats not happening. But it was really important for me to keep donnie's soft shell and battle shell. I wanted this to be a RISE au and donnie's battle shell is pretty tied into his character. (there's also tirtouga which I almost went with, but I didn't like that both he and raph shared the exact same dual typing) Soooo, Lapras. Its more of a loch ness monster but it also draws inspiration from a placochelys (prehistoric seaturtle esque species) so IM COUNTING IT. Very unconventional but I have my reasons. Ice typing is a good offensive type, but is pretty bad defensively. Which ties into rise donnie's fighting style. If I wasn't a coward, I wouldve made donnie the biggest of the bros. Since lapras is like 8 feet tall compared to the others being like 1-3 feet. But uhhh, I swear I have an in universe explanation for why he's so small ok.

And than there's April. She is not a pokemon trainer in this au. At least not in the traditional sense. I've been with pokemon for all of my 26 years of life, and I always wanted to know what the normal people of the pokemon world are up to. Not everyone is out here collecting gym badges, travelling, or catching them all. How do non-trainers interact with the pokemon world? So that's where I'm at with April. She will get a pokemon partner, but other than that, she's just an average high schooler who befriended the turtles from a young age and takes part in all their shenanigans. I took some design elements from rosa and hilbert with her outfit, but otherwise its pretty much the same.

We'll see how far I'll take this. I've been using this as a break from my many other projects, but like everything I do, it grew too many legs and is slowly becoming its own thing.