#*edit: I’m not sure the building he was born in is still there

[gaytobymeres]

The Sherlock Holmes statue is back! Finally!!

(Edinburgh is still trying so hard to be Glasgow hence the traffic cone on his head)

[rebelwrites]

IM HERE FOR THE FLASH FIC!!

I’ve been craving some Jax Teller. I need something tender and sweet, but in character. Something to make me feel safe and wanted, but not simply desired. Idc what you write or how you do it because I know it’s going to be 👌

You Aren’t Meant To Be Back Until Christmas Eve

Jax Teller x Reader

This is a flash fic so it hasn’t been edited. It’s also good to be back writing again 🥺

It was the week leading up to Christmas and to say you were rushed off your feet was a complete understatement. This was your favorite time of year, even though your stress levels were through the roof, you practically lived off coffee and energy drinks and hardly saw your boyfriend Jax. You knew he understood why you were so absent in the run up to the festive season, the small bakery had queues running down the street from mid October.

Leaning against the stainless steel counter, you took a deep breath looking at the stack of cookie trays that were cooling waiting to be iced ready for the morning rush. Your body ached to where all you wanted to do was sink into a scalding hot bath, not moving until the hot water eased your aching muscles.

The sound of your phone echoing around the industrial supplied kitchen pulled you from any thoughts, you knew it would be Jax, it always was this time of night. No matter what time you were working he would always drop you a call to see how you were getting on, even when he was on runs with the club he would always make a point of calling you. Brushing the flour on the front of your jeans you grabbed your phone, quickly answering the call before pressing the device against your ear.

“Is it a late one again Darlin’?” Your boyfriend hummed, you could hear the tiredness hanging from his words, this last run for the club must have taken more of a toll on him this time.

“I think I’m still gonna be here come opening,” you sighed, letting your gaze fall to the countertop. “Don’t get me wrong I love Christmas and the bakery but I just want to spend time with you.”

“The money is nice as well,” he chuckled, causing the corners of your lips to tug into a small smile. You knew how much the bakery meant to not only Jax but the club too. This was one of the first legitimate businesses that was set up, Jax surprised you one day by showing the vacant lot and the new sign he had designed, from that day the “From Anarchy, With Love” bakery was born.

“How was the run?” You asked, pulling the phone away from you ear, putting in on speaker so you could be free to move around the kitchen.

“Long as fuck,” he groaned, you knew he would be running he hand across his face as he spoke. “I am so fuckin’ done with the muling, it is just getting more risky with each run,” he mumbled, with each word he spoke you could hear the pain in his voice.

Before he could carry on the sound of someone pounding at the front door gained my full attention. “Hold on baby, I swear someone is trying to put their fist through the front door of the bakery,” you huffed in annoyance. It was probably one customer trying their luck to see if they could get their order early. But that didn’t stop you from reaching into the cupboard by the doorway of the kitchen, grabbing my hand gun, flicking the safety off before tucking it into the bank of my jeans. One thing was for sure when it came to being Teller’s old lady, you was never without protection, whether this was in the form of a 9mm, a member of the club or Jax.

As you moved through the building, the knocking got louder and more persistent. “Bloody hell, don’t punch my door in, it never hurt you,” you scoffed, fishing the keys out of the pocket of Jax’s hoodie.

You felt myself fumbling with all the locks, once again thanks to Jax being over protective, soon enough the door was finally unlocked and the moment you pulled the heavy wooden door you dropped the set of keys on the floor as you saw your boyfriend leaving against the brick entrance.

“Hey Darlin’,” he hummed, quickly closing the gap between the two of you, engulfing you into his arms. The feeling of his muscular arms wrapping around your body caused all the stress to dissolve. “Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered against your hair, guiding you further into the shop before kicking the door closed with his foot.

“You aren’t meant to be back until Christmas eve,” you breathed, pulling back slightly so you could take in the look of your tired man. Somehow you freed one of your arms, allowing you to reach up brushing your fingers against his cheek. “Not that I am complaining nevertheless, what happened Jaxy?”

The fact you were greeted with a moment of silence told you everything, you knew things were rocky with Clay, no one knew the toll that everything was taking on the blond nuzzling his face into your shoulder. He wouldn’t let the outside world see him like this, but with you he felt he could let the walls come crumbling down, allowing him to process all the emotions he was feeling, and he knew his feelings would be taken seriously.

“Clay is going off on one again, his hands are getting worse and he has gone behind all of our back and the club is now in a deep hole with the cartel,” he had a wobble in his tone as he spoke, he was angry about the whole situation and I couldn’t blame him, I would be to. “I just needed my girl.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, to the world he was the vice president of a violent club but behind closed doors he was just a puppy wanting love.

“I know you need to work so I can’t take you to the Christmas market I know you want to go to but I have brought take out,” he hummed, holding up the plastic carrier bag you had completely missed when he first came into the bakery, “and I thought we could spend the night icing them amazing cookie, like we did when we were getting this place ready for the opening.”

Tears threatened to spill over your lash line, you had never been with someone who would abandon everything just because they wanted to spend time with you, even if that meant that they would be working till the sun came up.

“You know I want the cookies to be edible and sellable right?” You smirked, cocking your brow at him.

“Shut up and get your ass in that kitchen, Darlin’”

@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @withmyteeth @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @princess76179 @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @princess76179 @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @lmao-liz @babypink224221 @daddysgirl2857 @bravo-four-seal-team @garbinge @pedrohoe04 @littlekittymeow @nichia88-blog @zozebo

[the-batcomputer-project]

Batfamily (and other) Headcanons that will be canon in my DC timeline:

-Dick is Pansexual. Show me this man in romantic relationships with more than just woman. I also feel like he has potential to be a sex positive icon which I feel is important. Sex portrayed as something that can be fun and casual, not explicitly reserved for romantic partners and situations.

(edited to rephrase and remove offensive language towards the pan community)

-Jason is Asexual. Get some ace representation but also give him some healthy romantic relationships where sex is not the center or a necessity. (I’m partial to Jason/Roy but to each their own)

-Jon Kent is dyslexic. Insert Percy Jackson reference about his brain being wired for kryptonian, but no, the dyslexia comes from Lois.

-Jason was absolutely theater kid before his death who managed to get the lead role almost every time, and somehow maintained a healthy schedule of theater rehearsals, good grades, and patrols.

-building off of the last one, Jason is Bruce’s favorite allowing him to get away with pretty much anything, but no one notices this because Jason is convinced Bruce hates him, and everyone else (understandably) believes Cass is the favorite.

-Cass took up gardening after watching Alfred tend to the rose bushes out front, and is now responsible for the very impressive garden on the Wayne Estate. She loves being to create and nurture life instead of kill, like the was born and raised to. Jason also taught her the language of flowers and she has little flowerbeds for each member of the family. Only Jason knows what they mean (also Alfred but he knows everything)

-Tim isn’t a caffeine addict, but he does have severe insomnia and ADHD. Because of that, caffeine typically has the opposite effect on him, hence why he always seems to be drinking a cup. Either for the placebo effect to stay up and finish a case, or to make him tired enough to fall asleep.

-Damian struggles to connect with people and express gratitude, appreciation, and love. He asked Cass about her garden one day and very intently sat and listened while she taught him about the language of flowers. Each family member woke up the next morning to a drawing of a bouquet of flowers pinned to the door with a knife (Jason has his framed in a safehouse he is fairly sure none of his family knows about)

-The batcave has a secret vault of “bad ideas” which was started by Dick as a child with the original Robin suit Bruce designed (it had pants) along with videos of Dick wearing said costume and falling off of gymnastics bars. (Think of the video explaining why strippers don’t wear clothes with the person falling off the pole over and over)

-Bruce is autistic. He gives off tism vibes (you’re trying to tell me that a man who dresses up as a bat and fights crime as a trauma response to watching his parents be murdered in front of him is neurotypical?) and I also want to see more a positive autism representation in main characters in media.

-Dick’s use of made up words such as “aster” and “whelmed” come from the fact that he spoke very little English when he was first adopted by Bruce, and decided that using obviously made up words made his slip ups less noticeable, or people would assume he did it on purpose. Even after he mastered English, he continued using his made up words because they just made sense (the batcomputer and jl database have a hidden file called the “DICKtionary” unlinking all his words and their meanings)

-Jason can’t drive. He died when he was 15 (you have to be 16 in Jersey to get your permit), was revived in Nanda Parbat so there was no need to drive, and was too embarrassed to mention it by the time he returned to Gotham and the Batfamily. This is his deepest, darkest, secret.

-As a child, Dick was convinced Batman was a vampire (and still isn’t entirely convinced otherwise)

-Tim collects little trinkets. Dick noticed this early on, and made sure to get a little souvenir trinket for Tim every time he went on a trip. Bruce noticed and started doing the same thing, and so did his friends after a while. Tim proudly displays his collection, because to him, each trinket is a reminder that people are thinking about him and care about him. (Most of his possessions in Drake Manor were necessities like clothes, or things he had bought for himself. Barely anything was a gift)

-Jason has OCPD, and needs things to be an exact certain way, and struggles when they aren’t. It’s one of the biggest reasons why he is often so frustrated with Bruce, who tends to do things in a different, certain way.

-Cass is actually the most neurotypical in the family, though because she has learned how to be a person through observing, she has picked up on many neurodivergent traits, specifically stimming.

-Steph’s aesthetic is retro pastel pop, mixed with maximalism. She loves bright colors and loud designs (though purple is still her favorite by far)

-Alfred keeps guns stashed all over the house in case of emergencies. Bruce hates this and has tried to remove them, but has given up as he can never seem to find them all. Alfred also brought up the good point of “I am not a vigilante like you, Master Bruce, and I am not quite as young as I used to be. If there is ever an invasion of the manor, I would quite enjoy the security of being able to protect myself.”

-There is a list of who is banned from the kitchen. Bruce is at the top of the list, Tim isn’t allowed to make anything more complex than instant food, Cass and Damian aren’t very good, but at least make an effort to learn so are therefore allowed with supervision. Dick has a partial ban. He is an absolute disaster in the kitchen, except for soups, and sarma (his mother’s recipe was one of the few things he brought with him from the circus and was obsessed with perfecting it as a kid, leading it to be one of the only things he can actually make) Steph isn’t allowed to cook, but she is a proficient baker. Duke isn’t a horrible cook, but mainly avoids the kitchen, preferring to stay out of Alfred’s way. Jason is the only batfamily member who is not banned from the kitchen under any circumstances. He has a tendency to stress cook, and likes trying new fancy recipes, because on the streets he only ate what he could find. This gives him a sense of control.

-Superman wasn’t a great dad to Connor at first, opting to send him to the farm to stay with Ma and Pa, but after a stern talking to from Bruce, came around started making an effort. Connor is an excellent big brother to Jon.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

WC: 2007

Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter.

Warnings: A/B/O, dystopian au, canon elements, non/con, dub/con, incest, subjugation, pandemic, mentions of nudity, physical/mental abuse, mention of collaring/leashed, sexual/slavery, rut/heat, physical altercation, death/murder conviction, show level violence, parental dominance, trafficking, branding

*Additional warnings will be added

Square filled: @spnabobingo -Arranged Matings

A/N: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

*This is combined/edited together with part VII

A/N II: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

Part VI

John walks down the hallway and is met by his eldest's concerned expression, “Dad, what’s wrong? You were gone for a long time.” Looking at the young, almost grown men he’d raised affirms his gut-wrenching decision was correct. “Nothing but the usual bureaucratic BS that needed sorting. Grab the O, we’re leaving.”

John’s nostrils flared at Sam’s ‘they’re not going to let us go yet’ response. “And why n..?” His sharp inquiry was interrupted by the sound of wheels squeaking down the hallway and they all turned to see a male Beta pushing a cart with various metal implements lying on top. “Hi, I’m here to do your O’s branding.” John appeared confused, and Sam piped up again.

“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you. This state mandates to prove ownership bought O’s have a brand burned into them like livestock.” John looks at Dean, demanding an explanation, and repeats what the register told him. 

John turns his attention back to the brander and asks how he would do it. Nervously, he details creating a mark out of the aluminum and applying it on the O. “If you’re not sure what you want, I can sketch an idea. Most people like to incorporate the first letter of their surname.” 

The brander quickly works. “Ignore my freehand. The brand will be clean.” John barely glanced as he held it up and nodded in acquiescence.

“Great. Let me administer the numbing agent; it needs a few minutes to kick in.” He picked up a vial of clear liquid, drew it up and walked towards the O when a deep growl reverberated off the walls making him freeze. Sam, instinctively flanked by Dean, placed themselves between the brander and the unconscious O. “Dean, take your brother out of this building now!” John commands in his Alpha voice, making Dean flinch.

Dean’s instincts tell him to follow Sam’s lead and stay with the O, but his designation forces his wolf to submit to follow their Alphas’ orders and wrestles his agitated brother outside.

“I apologize for my youngest; he’s recently presented and hasn’t yet learned to control his wolf.” The brander accepts, and John watches as the O’s rolled onto her side and injected the numbing agent into several places to deaden the area. Then, with deft precision, he bent the aluminum into shape and lit a propane torch, heating it before asking John, “Could you lay across its thighs? Sometimes, they still feel this. Don't want it moving and messing up the brand.” 

Sam was chewing on his thumb cuticle, the tell-tale sign of his wolf's nervousness getting to him, when it yelped, spotting John emerging through the clinic door carrying the O. Handing her back to Dean, they resumed their previous positions in the car as John drove back to the rental. 

Sam followed Dean down the hallway when their Alpha ordered, “Dean, take her to my room, set up an O sleeping mat, then move your stuff in. I’ll take the couch.” The brothers shared a look before Sam asked why, and John said, “I saw your reaction to her back at the warehouse.” Sam’s eyes flashed and John growled, “Right there is why. That O is here for your brother's use, not yours.  So, until its suppressant implant kicks in, you’re staying well away from it. I have an errand to run,” John picked up his truck's keys and walked towards the door. “Don’t forget to resalt the door.”

Sam spit out, “What’s so damn important you have to go back out at this hour?” John didn’t acknowledge his youngest sass, “Dean, I expect you to ensure your brother doesn’t go near that O.”

“Nothing changes. Heading to the nearest bar to get loaded as usual.” Sam snarled after John left and Dean gave him a look. “Can you stow the attitude for one night?” Sam peered at his brother with chagrin. “Sorry. I’ll leave that bedding for her by the door and pack your bag.” He proceeded towards their bedroom when Dean called out…

“Don’t touch my porn, you freak!”

John parked his truck in the darkest shadow he could find, flipped open a burner phone he’d bought, and dialed the number he’d gotten from Bobby. 

“I’m here.” The voice on the other end instructed him he'd have five minutes to accomplish his task. When he got the all-clear, John got out and began counting down as he entered the building's back door. 

Reaching the doctor's office, he sat at a computer and, following the voice’s instructions, found the pertinent file and opened it. In a blink, the previous information was deleted and replaced. John then clicked print, and as the new pages printed, he found the original physical file and began swapping them. 

Pocketing the originals, he stuck the file back in place and walked out. The voice instructed him to go out to the middle of nowhere, drive over the phone until it was in smithereens, burn it along with paper paperwork, and then hung up.

John destroyed the phone and was ready to flick his Zippo to incinerate the papers, but something told him not to. Instead, he opened his weapons catch and retrieved an unfinished curse box.

***

The sun had barely risen when John let himself into the rental carrying coffee and donuts. He found his sons already up: Dean was cooking breakfast while Sam sat at the kitchen table, slumped over open schoolbooks, catching up on his homework. 

“That smells good,” John says, placing the items on the counter. Dean pulls out a couple of the to-go cups, sipping on one, and hands the other to Sam, who immediately pops the lid off, adds milk and sugar, and asks suspiciously, “You take care of that errand?”

“Yes, I did. I’m going to grab a shower, and then we’re,” John paused, staring directly at Sam, “Going to discuss the ground rules concerning that O.”

Monday

Sam poked his head out of his doorway and, hearing his Alpha’s snoring, snuck down the hallway and let himself into Dean's room to find him kneeling next to the seated O. “Sam! What the hell? If Dad catches you…”

“He’s still passed out,” Sam frowned when the O cringed as Dean smeared the healing agent swapped from the clinic onto her brand. “Almost done, sweetheart,” Dean reassured her; she continued flinching until he finished. “Done. Okay, let’s get you dressed.” 

Dean slid his most worn flannel on her, and the O hissed when the super-soft material touched her raw skin, eliciting a viscous-sounding growl from Sam, causing Dean to shoot a look that said shut up or get out. Chastised, Sam comments, “Jeezus Dean, your clothes swamp her,” instantly regretting the thoughtless remark as a brief flash of shame crosses Dean's features. “Had those jail fines, and what was left barely fueled up my car.” Sam commented back, “My spare jeans should fit better since I’m closer to her size.” Dean rolled his eyes, “Sammy, remember what dad told us. The pamphlet clearly states that we shouldn’t confuse her by mixing-up our scents.”

“Oh, for fucks sake! We practically live on top of each other! She’s been exposed to our mixed-up scents for nearly two days! And who’s the one she’s skittering around? Dad!” Sam pointed towards the door, “He needs to stop trying to brainwash you into believing the bullshit in that pamphlet the clinic gave you. It's ridiculous nonsense! She’s not some dumb animal. You’ve seen it yourself!”

“Sam, just because she knows how to blink once for yes-two for no doesn’t mean she comprehends things like we do!” 

“Wow, could you sound any more like Dad?” Sam shot back loudly when a grunt echoed through the thin walls and they all froze. Dean slowly cracked the bedroom open, whispering, “Shit, that woke Dad up.” He exhaled and relaxed, “Good, he’s going to the kitchen. I’ll distract him ‘cause you need to get ready for school, I gotta drop you off early. Gonna meet with the lawyer before my hearing this morning.” 

“You need to make a good impression on the judge today.” Sam reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out some folded bills. “It’s not much, but it should be enough to get you something more presentable from Goodwill.”

“Thanks, Sammy, but I can’t take that. It’s not your responsibility to take care of me or her; that’s my job, always has been.” Dean reopened the door and almost stumbled upon hearing his brother's words.

“Dean, you’re not taking care of her. You own her.” 

Deans Hearing 

10:07

The judge slammed their gavel down. “John Winchester, if you do not control yourself, I’ll have the bailiff not only put you in restraints but also gag you!” The Alpha ignored the judge and continued arguing with the prosecuting attorney. “What the hell is this about Dean having to claim her?” 

“Your honor, I request a fifteen-minute recess to confer..,” The judge interrupted the public defender. “Councilor, you have five minutes to remind your client’s Alpha that he accepted this plea agreement. And make sure he also understands the consequences of outbursts in my court!” 

John was still fuming when the lawyer slammed the conference room door shut. “Your stupid, domineering Alpha crap is what got Dean into this situation!” Taking several deep breaths, the lawyer began explaining. 

“It’s the standard procedure in this state to include the claiming statute in cases like Deans. However, in ninety-nine percent, the presiding judge will not enforce it and instead accept the branding as the claim. If the prosecutor had pressed for it, I was prepared to show precedent that it wasn’t applicable since you're not a state resident.” They pointed a finger in John’s face, “If the judge doesn’t kick it, you have only yourself to thank!”

John quickly strategized. “What if I do a mea culpa? Say my wolf has been under extreme duress, and I reacted badly to the possibility of being unable to choose Dean's mate?” The lawyer shrugged, “It’s worth a shot because there’s nothing I can do now since you agreed to the plea deal without consulting me first for the record.”

“The court accepts your apology, Alpha Winchester.” The judge sat back. “As per the rules of the claiming statute, I have to consider the factors that led to your son ending up before this court. I have reviewed your family history obtained during the investigation of this case and, to be honest found your parenting skills atrocious.” The judge began reading a file out loud.

“Since the death of your mate, you’ve denied your sons a stable home life, constantly moving; the only paper trail of their existence is from the numerous state schools they’ve attended. Then there’s a multitude of notifications to CYF of suspected abuse, neglect, and exposure to unsavory elements in our society that, unfortunately, has led your eldest sitting before me, awaiting my decision on his future.” The judge stared at both Winchesters briefly before gesturing to Dean to stand. “This court finds that Subordinate Alpha Dean Winchester has complied with all but one of the requirements of his plea agreement within the time frame stated.”

“Because of the previously cited circumstances and, being unmated Alpha going into a rut, resulted in the death of another, I am obligated, per the state of North Dakota law, to ensure the defendant is not in a situation to commit such a heinous act again. Therefore, I order the claiming statute to be carried out immediately.” They bang their gavel and left.

Dean stood there in shock, half listening as John conversed with the lawyer about the logistics(?) of what this forced mating entails. The bailiff gripped his arm and led him out the prisoner entrance, down the short hallway, stopping in front of a door painted with an A/O symbol. When the bailiff opened the door, what Dean saw returned him to reality, and yelled...

“I CAN’T DO THIS!”

Part VII

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @ilovetaquitosmmmm @strawblueberrys @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @kazsrm67

[lampthehealthminister]

An Aventurine-centric analysis of the HSR 2.1 Trailblaze Quest - Part 1

I recently finished the 2.1 Trailblaze quest while farming for Aventurine, and it literally fueled my brain rot about him so I have to share my thoughts. I’m just going to do some analysis of the parts that interested me the most (so almost all the parts with Aventurine lmao) because I felt like the dialogue was very well-made and full of symbolism and devices that helped build his character. I will do it quest by quest because I don’t think a single post can handle all of my thoughts even if I ignore some parts of the quests. I’ll edit the things that must still be verified when I finish the next post. If you have anything to add don’t hesitate to comment! I love hearing other people’s thoughts on stuff like that. Also I hope the formatting isn't too weird... I'm not yet used to how Tumblr works, especially in website mode, so if anyone's got any tips don't hesitate to drop them too!!

Warning : Spoilers for Honkai Star Rail’s 2.1 Trailblaze Quest “Cat Among Pigeons” (in case some people still haven’t played it yet)

Part 1 : Double Indemnity

Memory

???: Land of rock, but not water, lightning, but not rain, blood, but not tears. You beat us with your falling stars, you lash us with wind and storm, you chew us up with the cracked earth…

→ I think “Land of rock, but not water” comes up as some of the floating text when Aventurine is in Clockie Theme Park (Must verify)

2. ???: I don't ask for a peaceful death, just for you to tell me — does the baby swaddled sweetly asleep... does he dream of his mother's heartbeat and the sound of falling rain? Please tell me whether this life is all just a fleeting dream...

→ Appearance of the motif of rain, which is surely important (Explored in quote 4)

→ Talk about dreams and life, obviously a way to make a link with Penacony, but also probably to show Aventurine’s real character and views : he is not one to hide himself in a false world, which is probably also why he’s so fervently opposed to the Family. (In my personal opinion, maybe all this opulence coming from the Family disgusts him because it reminds him that some people live a carefree life while other suffer needlessly)

→ “Please tell me whether this life is all just a fleeting dream…” is pretty interesting when you consider that Aventurine was ready to sacrifice himself because he saw no point in keeping his life. But also, here Kakavasha’s life is referred to as a dream, something not real, probably to set the stage for his luck, which is also pretty unbelievable but affects reality, setting his existence in the real world. Basically it shows that Kakavasha’s life is solidified by his luck since his birth.

3. ???: ...Otherwise, why would this child be born to face impending death...?

→ Another link to Aventurine’s mentality towards the end of the quest. It’s precisely because he sees no point in being born to suffer that he wants to end his life. (It wasn’t said as brutally in the quest, but in my opinion Aventurine is basically suicidal, as shown by other examples that I will address later.)

4. ???: Darling, listen... this is the sound of rain. On the day you were born, the sky also sent down a gift like this from Gaiathra.

→ The motif of rain is back, yoohoo!! Just before that, Kakavasha’s sister says that the “outworlders”, the IPC probably, sent the rain, but Kakavasha’s mother seems to believe otherwise. Maybe it’s a hint that the religious belief wasn’t as strong in Kakavasha’s sister? However, I feel like this theory is debunked in the next memory. (In my opinion, the theme of religious belief and the loss of it is still super important to Aventurine’s character and I’ll talk about it when it comes up.)

→ I also feel like what makes this event all the more incredible is that it shows that everything Kakavasha dreams of, he can have, to a certain extent. Obviously it’s also to show that he’s the real blessing, but I feel like it’s pretty straightforward here. But what I mean by “he can have everything he dreams of” is that thanks to his luck, nothing is really impossible to achieve, whether it’s good or bad, which he probably realised as he grew up and helped fuel his gambler mentality.

5. ???: ...Welcome to this sad world, Kakavasha.

→ Again, another link to Aventurine’s mentality. The world has been nothing but sad and cruel to him, so why was he even born?

Meeting Sunday face-to-face

Okay little disclaimer here, I struggled a lot with that dialogue because right from the beginning, I felt like Sunday and Aventurine were both trying to one-up another, while also talking about two different things, so it made it very confusing for me, but I feel like that was on purpose. So I’ll try to share my thoughts as best as I can.

Sunday: I have come to know you very well as a person, Mr. Aventurine. You're diligent, generous, and willing to cooperate. The fact that you succeeded in overcoming many obstacles just to meet me gave me the reason to believe in your wisdom and courage.

→ I start off with the most hypocritical thing Sunday would have ever said to Aventurine’s face. Here, Sunday is very obviously buttering Aventurine up, maybe to make him (Aventurine) believe that he (Sunday) can be fooled. Or maybe also to mock Aventurine for thinking that he (Sunday) would let himself be tricked so easily. I think these lines set the tone of the discussion. We now know that this is gonna be a passive-aggressive discussion in which neither Sunday nor Aventurine will be honest. This is also most likely a hint that Sunday knows more than he lets on. Because he knows of Aventurine’s strategy thanks to Ratio and has nothing to lose, he plays the exact same game as him (Aventurine).

2. Sunday: But there's one thing I must ask you — that is, you've used your wisdom at the wrong place to meet the wrong person and put yourself in a situation where you shouldn't be... witnessing a tragedy that shouldn't have happened.

Aventurine: You don't look too well. Am I making you anxious?

Aventurine: ...If not, then it means I'm on your side.

→ First thing that confuses me. Here, Sunday is trying to tell Aventurine that he (Aventurine) has the “bad” role, that he’s doing everything he shouldn’t be doing, and is everywhere he shouldn’t be, but Aventurine just ignores him. I had to re-read that part to understand that he (Aventurine) is trying to steer the conversation in his direction. Sunday is telling Aventurine that there will be consequences to his actions and his behaviour, but he (Aventurine) completely brushes him off by being condescending. And although Sunday is only being subtle, I’m sure Aventurine understands the implicit meaning behind his words, since this is a way of talking he’s familiar with. However, whether he’s aware of the risks or blind to them is something I have no answer to. I struggled a lot with that part because it’s difficult to grasp their intentions, but I think that the deal here is that Aventurine wants to take the high-ground in the discussion by ignoring Sunday.

3. Sunday: If I wasn't mistaken, you'd just made a serious accusation against The Family.

Aventurine: You weren't mistaken, for depravity is creeping in around you.

Aventurine: There's no need for us to be evasive. Let's talk about your sister. Your sister's talent is unrivaled in the world of show business. As you know, her voice has been out of tune since she returned to Penacony. What's more disheartening, she can't sing anymore.

→ Another episode of Aventurine ignoring Sunday to lead the conversation his way. Here, it seems even more ridiculous to me, because Sunday is basically telling him that his actions won’t go unpunished, even if he’s once again not explicit, but he (Aventurine) doesn’t care. He justifies his actions by being condescending and looking down on Sunday, hence the sentence “for depravity is creeping in around you.”. What’s more, he wants to talk about a subject that doesn’t make sense. Why talk about Robin except to say she was a victim? Here, Aventurine is starting his tacting of “fear” that he mentioned to Ratio earlier. Also, more hypocrisy with “There’s no need for us to be evasive” even though he will be only that afterwards.

4. Aventurine: Who could be responsible for this? Many suspect the culprit is among the outsiders, but I know... you hold a different opinion.

Aventurine: Now, your noble status has become a shackle, preventing you from apprehending the murderer and avenging your sister's death. You're feeling anxious because you're out on a limb.

→ Here’s one of my favourite parts. Here, Aventurine doesn’t outright say there’s a traitor in the Family, because it’s too big of an accusation to say without any proof, so he resorts to being as implicit as possible. Here he’s directly contradicting his “There’s no need for us to be evasive” line that was only meant for show. Also, he assumes things about Sunday’s situation, clearly to try and make him afraid, while still being as implicit as possible. However, it’s very likely that he doesn’t actually know what Sunday is thinking or can/can’t do, he’s just bluffing. He’s also very very condescending in these lines.

5. Aventurine: But don't worry. I am on your side.

Sunday: I'm immensely honored by your concern for me Mr. Aventurine — since you're so selfless and generous, I believe you wouldn't ask for anything in return, would you?

→ These guys literally cannot talk to each other normally. Anyway, here they’re both big hypocrites and super condescending with each other. Also, at this point we start noticing that Sunday’s pretty much not phased by Aventurine’s “fear” tactic, which hints at the fact that he expected it, or at the very least has enough control over his situation to not have to fear anything or anyone.

6. Aventurine: Naturally, you wouldn't incur any loss from this. I just want to reclaim what is mine: my liberty, and the personal items under The Family's custody — the bag of gift money, and...

→ I love the first sentence. Aventurine is particularly good at twisting words and sentences to appeal to the ears, and this dialogue really shows all of his prowess as a Stoneheart. He says everything to please, while also finding a way to turn the situation to his advantage, even though it doesn’t work in this particular dialogue.

7. Aventurine: I'm sure you're aware of the high level of risk I'll be undertaking to bring the truth to light.

→ Yet another sentence that makes no sense. In the dialogue, it doesn’t say anything nor serve anything, it’s another one of Aventurine’s tactics. He’s desperately trying to get a hold of the conversation, to have the desired effect on Sunday, so he says things that don’t mean anything, that just hint at things, that leave enough space for doubt to linger in the mind of the person in front of him. Unfortunately, Sunday is already one step ahead, and it doesn’t faze him at all.

8. Sunday: Mr. Aventurine, when you're out and about, do you always make adjustments to your appearance? Your tie should be on the center line, your shirt must not protrude from your vest, your trouser creases should be perfectly straight, and always aligned with the tips of your shoes.

Aventurine: Of course.

Sunday: But I don't, because it's not appropriate to do so in public — you should make sure everything is presentable and in order before leaving the house.

→ I know that this analogy is Sunday’s way of telling Aventurine that he (Sunday) doesn’t like to take risks, but I feel like it also serves another purpose. This seems like an implicit jab at Aventurine’s attempts to take control of the conversation once more, as if Sunday is mocking him for trying to tie the loose ends during the discussion, whereas he (Sunday) came completely prepared. (In my opinion, this is yet another hint that Sunday is one step ahead of Aventurine, but yet again, this is all very implicit.)

9. Aventurine: ...Sure. The gift money is good enough. I suppose you wouldn't mind that? After all, a merchant can't function without a bargaining chip.

Sunday: You compromised quicker than I thought. Unfortunately, it's a gambler that needs a bargaining chip... not a merchant. I can give you your gift money, but before that, I want you to tell me —

→ I don’t have a full answer to the question “What is the difference between gambler and merchant in relation to Aventurine?” but it dwells on my mind nonetheless. Aventurine refers to himself as a merchant again later (Must verify) but this dialogue is the only moment where he’s called out for it. So, why? Merchant here seems too… plain. Not risky enough for Aventurine. A merchant sells, but it’s mostly honest and without any lies, which matches with the image Aventurine usually gives out : he’s someone trustworthy, just agree to work with him and it’ll be good for you. However, Sunday sees through that facade easily, and denies Aventurine’s false honesty and care. Gambler is almost used as an accusation here, like Sunday is calling Aventurine out on his lies. And indeed, Aventurine does fit the image of the gambler : he’s reckless, enjoys the thrill of the risk, and doesn’t hesitate to play dirty. Even Ratio refers only to him as “gambler”. As for the bargaining chip… it probably fits the gambler more because a gambler is someone who’s in a difficult position and needs a way to escape, to change the tides, which will be Aventurine’s case soon.

10. Sunday: "Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows."

→ Nothing special here, except that it’s quite interesting that Xipe is referred to as the “Triple-Faced Soul” and Gaiathra Triclops is a goddess with three eyes. But it’s most likely just a way to make a parallel between Sunday’s and Aventurine’s beliefs and how the former pushes his Aeon’s creed on the latter. Especially since the Avgins believe making any offering other than saying the prayer is tainting Gaiathra Triclops’ name, whereas the Family is actively nurturing a dream city all in the name of their Aeon. Additionally, here Sunday associates Xipe’s name is with acts of torture nonchalantly, which shows that the Family probably commits horrible acts that they justify with the name of the Harmony regularly. (In my opinion this is another reason why Aventurine dislikes the Family and Penacony as a whole.)

11. Dr. Ratio: You'll have to speak more clearly than that.

12. Aventurine: ...You might as well explain yourself a little more clearly.

→ Adding these two together even though the first one was said during the flashback with Ratio and Sunday, because I thought the similarities were interesting. Put together, these two lines really make it seem like Sunday tricked Ratio and Aventurine by pitching them against each other. Still, Aventurine’s line is obviously less assertive because he doesn’t have any possibility to back out, unlike Ratio had.

13. Aventurine: Is this what the Harmony represents? Is it built upon constraint and coercion?

→ Here’s a line that convinces me that Aventurine despises the Family. He mimics Sunday, who says the Harmony’s name to justify his doings, and calls him out on his hypocrisy. It isn’t a real argument, it seems more like a sudden burst of Aventurine’s hatred for the ways of the Family, but it definitely sets the stage for the opposition between Sunday’s and Aventurine’s beliefs more clearly.

14. Sunday: Should you succeed, you will be able to coalesce into the Harmony and be with your Family. If you fail, you will suffer the wrath of the Eternal Centurion and fall into an abyss of doom.

→ That line… That line man… The first sentence is amazing. Throughout the whole quest, I feel like there's this recurring theme of Aventurine being stripped from everything he has, and this is definitely part of it. There’s something so oppressive and sickening about the fact that if he fails, then the last bit of himself, of Kakavasha, which is his memories of his family, will be overridden by his Family. And I say his Family because Sunday says your Family and not the Family. And while technically it’s the same, the fact that Sunday says “your” really makes the situation fully set in stone. Even if Aventurine is free, he has already been stripped away of all the connections he has to his true self. Even his belief in Gaiathra Triclops, which is unique to his clan, is going to be submerged by the words of an Aeon he does not believe in. Even worse, his beliefs will be overridden by the words of a faction that justifies their violence and lies with the name of their Aeon. This is a fate worse than death for Aventurine, because it wipes out his being, his existence, everything that makes him himself. This is literally akin to being a slave once more. Anyway these are the most hurtful lines in that dialogue I’m telling you.

15. Aventurine: Shameless hypocrites... You took everything from me and still demand the truth? That isn't fair. Your carnival reeks with the stench of cash. Nothing is achievable without it!

→ Last one for that dialogue, it’s not too complicated, but I love the raw anger that comes out from it. It definitely feels like this is what Aventurine feels at his core, and he finally lets it out now that he’s being threatened with the loss of his person. The “You took everything from me” references both material things but also himself. This line is so honest because he already feels as if he is caught, as if he is being stripped of his identity, all because of the Harmony’s effect on him. Also you remember how I mentioned that Aventurine probably hates the Family because of the opulence of Penacony. Yeah well that’s the proof right there. He says “reeks” and “stench”, which both have a negative connotation, to underline how horrible the Family’s dreamscape actually is. And since these words are very strong, I’m guessing that they come from his real feelings about the Dreamscape and the Family.

Memory 2

???: Look, this is just a necklace. But Kakavasha, you are my only family.

Kakavasha: …

Kakavasha: I'm sorry, Sister... I thought you'd be happy. Because mom left you this necklace...

→ These lines aren’t really complex, but they really show how Kakavasha probably had no knowledge of his worth, even as a kid. I don’t know why that is, but living on a dangerous planet and being a kid that can’t really fight or help probably is part of it. However, his sister reminds him that he is worth more than a necklace. Still there’s more parallelism between Kakavasha and the necklace. He says “Because mom left you this necklace…”, but his sister’s first line “you are my only family.” shows that Kakavasha is another gift that their mother left to her, one that is more important than a material possession, yet he fails to realise that.

2. ???: It is important, but not as important as you, my dearest brother... I don't blame you, but you must remember what mom said...

???: Pain and poverty are the trials of Gaiathra Triclops. SHE has also granted us a chance, and that's your good luck, Kakavasha. Your good luck is the most precious wealth we— all Avgin have.

???: You're a child blessed by Gaiathra Triclops and can lead the clan to happiness. So, always remember to protect yourself and never resent the pain and poverty you're going through... All right?

→ There’s honestly something a bit messed up about Kakavasha’s family’s adoration for his good luck, to the point the lines almost make it seem like he’s more important than the necklace because he’s lucky. Obviously I don’t think Kakavasha’s family’s love for him was dependent only on his luck, and nothing tells us that these memories are completely true either. Since it’s all Aventurine reminiscing, he could be an unreliable narrator, especially with his super low self-esteem. However, all about his life is said to be related to Gaiathra Triclops and her divine influence, whether it’s the hardships or the good things. There’s definitely some form of fatalism in Kakavasha’s sister’s words, with pain and poverty being justified with a sort of “everything happens for a reason”, which probably fueled Aventurine’s vision of life, death, and hardships. Especially since these lines also show how difficult Kakavasha’s role was. He’s both the saviour of the Avgins, a blessing from Gaiathra Triclops that can help everyone, but he also has to be selfish and protect himself to keep the blessing alive. This probably fueled his bad view of his luck, but also his self-hatred : because he’s lucky, he has to stay to the side and let everyone die, meanwhile he gets to stay alive, but does he deserve it? Also, in the previous memory, I suggested that maybe Kakavasha’s sister’s beliefs weren’t as strong as their mother’s, but her words here prove the opposite. Kakavasha’s birth and luck probably reinforced her beliefs, since he’s the hope all the Avgins have been searching for ; it’s like their goddess is finally answering their prayers, so why stop believing in her now?

3. Kakavasha: ...Okay. I will swear to Gaiathra Triclops to protect this "wealth"...

→ Not much to say here, except that despite swearing to Gaiathra Triclops in the past, currently he sees his luck in such a bad light that he doesn’t think it’s a blessing, and doesn’t want to protect it anymore. Obviously this fact is related to how much he’s been isolated from all the other Avgins because of his luck.

4. Kakavasha: But Sister... If Gaiathra Triclops was really watching over us...

Kakavasha: Then why did SHE not protect Dad when he was swept away by the quicksand...? After all, Dad went to the Katicans' land only to prepare for Gaiathra Triclops' offerings…

Kakavasha: And where was Gaiathra Triclops when Mom was shivering in our arms? Mom was still pleading for Gaiathra Triclops' forgiveness under her breath until the moment she closed her eyes…

Kakavasha: Sister, everyone praises me for being smart, but I don't get it... If every rainpour was Gaiathra Triclops' forgiveness and grace…

Kakavasha: Then how bad were our sins? ...So much so that we were born in this world of death...?

→ I’m putting this whole speech together because it makes much more sense as a whole than separated. Here, we really see Kakavasha’s doubt towards his clan’s religious beliefs, but also the uncertainty he feels about his role. But because he still believes in Gaiathra Triclops, this leaves him with only one option left : wondering what these trials are an answer to. The last line pretty much confirms that his role as the saviour of his clan and all the bad things that happen despite his luck created his point of view on life and death. He doesn’t blame Gaiathra Triclops, but thinks that maybe there is no point in hoping for her forgiveness if there are so many trials thrown their way. But also, it probably made Kakavasha wonder what was so special about himself, and eventually if he even had anything special, considering his luck can’t help anybody except himself. Because of that, I also think that these words are a mix of Aventurine and Kakavasha’s thoughts. I’m not trying to undermine Kakavasha’s ability to understand the world, but the “where was Gaiathra Triclops when mom was shivering in our arms?” seems so accusatory that I’m thinking that it could be a thought that Aventurine has now that he grew up. Also, the fact that there’s no image when this text is on screen supports this theory : Aventurine can’t link these thoughts to a precise moment he had with his sister, because they’re his current thoughts about his memories.

[gxdsfavgal]

Cowboy Take Me Away

Pairing: Cowboy!Bob Floyd x Cowgirl!fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, thumb sucking, oral (male receiving), face fucking, slight overstimulation, it’s dirty... but its also short, not edited

A/N: cowboy!bob... orgasm! anyways, this is inspired by Cowboy Take Me Away by The Chicks

-

-

Bobby just got back from deployment earlier this week and with the problems all around the property, I haven’t been able to welcome him back.

His family and mine have been neighbors since before we both were born.

“Hey hun, it’s our turn to feed the horses. I gotta get to town, can you do it?” my dad asked as he was looking around the house for his truck keys.

“Umm sure I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders as I slipped on my boots and putting on my trucker hat.

“Thanks! And maybe go say hi to Robert, i’m sure he’d like to see you.” he pushed the bill of my hat and left the door with a chuckle.

I quickly headed to the garage starting up the quad, my dog Boomer running in circles ready for the ride.

I hopped on and drifted out of the drive way and onto the acres of grass, Boomer running behind me as his ears flopped repeatedly.

Five minutes later, I parked in front of the wooden and brick stable. The doors already fully opened, I walked in making sure to check all of my sides.

Boomer running ahead of me, taking a sharp turn and barking. There was the mystery man, getting ready to wheel out the food for the stallions but petting Boomer with one hand.

“Bobby?” I called out to the man in a tight shirt, Wrangler jeans, and a cowboy hat.

He turned around, squinting to see who it was. As I walked closer, I can tell by his facial expressions that he realized it was me.

“Y/n!” he dropped the barrel of alfalfa and took long strides at me with a big smile on both of our faces.

I welcomed him with open arms, his arms hugging tight and his body warm against me.

He steps away and places his hands on his hips. “Booms almost had me in the bone orchard.” he bent down, scratching behind my furry companions ear.

“What are you doing here? I was gon come by and visit you.” I playfully scolded him as he began wheeling the food out to the aisle.

“I was gon take Pilot on a ride but saw that they’ve done ate all their food.” he was talking more like he was from California, his drawl barely there.

“Mind if I join?” I asked, hoping he gave the okay.

“Of course you can.” he smiled, opening up the gate of stall and scooping the pellets.

I helped him feed all eight horses in the herd stables that’s shared amongst our two families and the two across from us.

We both grabbed our separate horses and readied them up, putting on their head piece and saddles.

We pulled them out of the stables and mounted.

“Where to Bobby?” we slowly galloped as we decided on where to ride to.

“Cubby?”

My eyes lit up and my cheeks hurt from smiling when I heard of our childhood treehouse our fathers partnered up on building for us.

We signaled our rides to trot and head towards the playhouse.

Once we arrived, we tied up our horses to the base of the tree then we climbed on up. The wood was rickety, yet steady and sturdy still after all these years.

We walked around the small house, looking at all our old toys and carving, opening up the windows to see the view of our neighboring lands.

“I haven’t been up here in like 8 years” I whispered, swiping my finger along the dusty plastic table.

“I forgot this even existed until I saw you.” he chuckled. I can feel heat creep up onto my the apples of my cheeks.

I saw down onto the old plastic table that my dad added when we were younger, Bob leaned against the railing of the window with his back towards the view.

“How's umm uh.. Jeremy? That's his name right?” he squinted his eyes are the possible mistake of the name.

“Oh I broke up with him.” I went straight to the point of my past relationship.

“Really?” he asked, his eyes wider than before.

“Yep, I finally realized that he was just using me” his eyebrows furrowed from heading what that son of a bitch did. “Didn’t like him that much anyways.”

I shrugged my shoulders and Bob chuckled quietly.

“How about you? Any lucky Navy lady?” I asked, kicked my feet up onto the table and holding them to my chest.

“Nope.” he popped the ending of the word.

“What?” I yelled out in surprised. “You? Robby? Robert Floyd doesn't have a Navy Lady?” 

I was in literal shock, my mouth open and jaw on the floor. 

“Robby, please don't tell me you didn't fuck someone at least once while you were deployed.” I looked at him with wide eyes, waiting for his answer.

This was a typical conversation between us, it’s been like this since he told me about his first time jerking off in middle school.

“I just used my hand and pillow.” his hands rubbed across his face, normal signs showing that he was embarrassed.

“You're joking with me!” I had my hand covering my mouth, my feet now dangling off the little kiddie table.

“I’m not.” now rubbing at the nape of his neck. 

“How about I help you and you help me?” I outed, keeping my eyes on him to see his reaction.

“What’d you say?” he crossed his arms.

“I haven't gotten off since I broke up with Jeremy a month ago, and well you were deployed for like 8 weeks without a proper orgasm.” I told him our struggles.

I can tell by the look on his face that he thought I was absolutely going mad. His face also looked like he wasn't opposed to the idea.

“I- I don't know about this.” he stuttered out, his eyes flickered all around the room.

“Bobby, we’ve been best friends since we popped out of the womb. You’ve seen my naked a handful of times.” I looked at him with darkened eyes.

His demeanor changed, his back straightened up and lips curled into a smirk. He was deep in his thoughts, thinking about everything we can do, every position, and everywhere we could do it.

I knew that Bob had a crush on me when we were in high school when we both started to mature and get horny. We never had sex, but those many parties that I forced him to come with me to turned into something. Little make out sessions in the corner of the parties to dry humping on the nasty couch until one of us came. He always made sure I didn't drink much because he didn't want to haul my ass back into the truck.

I would be lying if I said that I was never attracted to Bob and that I never fantasized about him. Bob has it all, the brains, the look, the charm, and he’s my best friend.

“Look, I don't want to fuck if you're just using me to get over Jeremy.” he was stern, his arms crossed and legs spread apart. I couldn't tell if I was drooling or not.

I was taken back by his words. “Robert, you know I would never use you. I would never treat you the way that son-of-a-bitch Jeremy treated me.” I jumped off the kiddie table and made slow steps towards his figure.

His chin was down but his eyes were watching every step I took. 

“Im gonna be honest here Bobby.” I stopped with a foot between us. “I was happy to hear that you didn't touch another gal. Happy that no other girl has made you cum.”

The way he leaned against the window, his jeans tight against his spread out legs, his shirt tight in all the right places. He looked like a God.

“You got a dirty mouth.” he mumbled out.

My head tilted to the side with dumb little smirk. “Im sorry what’d you say?”

His hand came up to my face, his warm thumb against my bottom lip. “I said that you got a dirty mouth.”

His eyes were eyeing my lips, watching his thumb rub against my lips as my eyes watched him. 

“You gonna shut me up? Huh Robby?” I whispered out before he put his thumb between my lips, dragging on the edge of my teeth.

“Oh I’m gonna shut you up hun.” He grumbled out. My lips wrapped around his thumb, sucking on it and tongue moving around.

His tongue rolled against the inner part of his cheek, chuckling at my action.

He removed his thumb from my mouth, rubbing my saliva on my lips and cheek as he used his other hand to lower me down to my knees. I looked up at him with big eyes, my bottom lip caught in my teeth, and my hand palming him through his jeans.

His groans were heaven. The way he reacted even though there’s two layers between my hand and his cock.

His hips bucked into my hand, telling me to get a move one. Both of my hands fumbled with his belt, the big buckle making it harder so he had to take over as my hands sat on the back of his knees.

Once his jeans hit the floor, my hands immediately reached up to the elastic waistband of his boxers that showed his prominent bulge. I brought my lips down to his adonis belt, leaving a wet peck as I pulled down the cloth. His cock grazed my cheek as it slapped against his stomach.

I whimpered at the sight of his dick. Red pulsing tip with the pearls of pre-cum on the tip. The thick vein on the bottom and just the right amount of little hairs.

I was hungry for his cock. I wanted to taste him. I was eager.

My hand wrapped around the base and the tip passed my lips. My tongue getting a taste of him which made me hum, sending vibrations up his body.

“Lookin so pretty, doll.” he said with a little fight to his voice, trying not to be so loud.

I took him further into my mouth, my tongue trailing the thick vein as his tip hit the back of my throat. I gagged around him which made his moan out.

The noises he made were fuel.

“F-fuck! Doing s-so good for me!” he praised as my hand and mouth worked together to have him reach the edge.

His hands were holding my hair, trying his best to not push my head down. I didn't want that.

I brought my hand to his on the back of my head, showing him that he can take control. He understood and immediately started pushing my face into his pelvis as his hips thrusted to my lips.

I was a gagging mess with tears staining my cheeks and my saliva running down my chin and neck.

I can tell he was close by his contorting face and the stutter of his lips.

I hallowed my cheeks and sucked on him, my hand cupping his balls. Giving a little pressure as he thrusted into my throat.

“Im gonna cum! Fuck!” he held my face against him, his cock fully down my throat as I was gagging and breathing through my nose.

He shot his cum down my throat, rubbing my scalp with his fingers.

He pulled out of my mouth, my lips sucking his harder and following him trying to get more from him. Trying to milk him but he kept hissing from how sensitive he was.

His cock was soft in front of my face. He looked down at me with his hair sticking to his forehead as his chest fell and rose. His smirk still plastered on his face.

I opened my mouth to show him that I swallowed all of his cum. He threw his head back with a groan, his cock getting hard again from my action.

He looked back down at me, his hands cradled my jaw as he pulled me up onto my feet. His lips attacked mine, tasting himself on my lips and tongue. 

My hand reached his dick again, stroking him and paying attention to the tip. He was moaning into the kiss.

“Fuck baby!” he pulled my hand away from him. “Im too sensitive right now.” 

We both chuckled as we kissed again, tucking him back into his boxers.

“Next time I got you.” he mumbled into my lips.

[mitsukiwa]

Made for vice

A/N: You may have read this same one before but this one was edited; my other story was roughly draft also criticism is welcomed. If there are any mistakes pls let me know. Hope you enjoy.  !MDNI!

word count:0.3k

You were forced, against your own will to be his. He took what soldier’s had fought for all mankind to have Freedom. Never had you ever thought it’d be something taken from your grasp. Simply because of a rejection, we all had that choice to make. But him he took it from you, whatever liberation you had before seized away from you. 

The two of you encountered back in October. There was a coffee shop a few blocks down from your work building. The doors of the cafe dinged as a new customer entered, glancing up from your computer. There was a man of average height with a slim and narrow build, Captivating crimson wings. 

You couldn't help but stare, knowing it may come out as crude despite having such fierce wings. 

It's an astonishing sight to see something so surreal, golden irises staring back at you. 

You quickly looked away, cheeks beginning to warm up at the reality that you were caught goggling.

It's not strange to have specialties like this in this world.

They're known as quirks. Quirks superhuman capabilities, that can be possessed. Along with being unique to each user. Quirks are sorted into different categories. Though then there's the quirkless to sum it up people who are are are born as ordinary normal whichever you want to call it. I'm one of those people born without a quirk. Those who are expected to rely on those with quirks, Those called heroes. 

Yet not all heroes are flawless, there is always a flaw within them.

And I comprehend that by experience.

How it all began

You resumed typing away into your computer, Entirely ignoring the humiliation you'd just put yourself in a moment ago.

From your peripheral, you notice someone walking over to your table.

They cleared their throat to grab your attention.

you gaze up 

it was the man you had just been staring at with a cup of coffee in hand.

Not sure if he came over to scold you about how rude it is to stare at a person.

 wait...

you know this man he's a

hero

Known as the hero hawks, you've noticed him on the news. 

Pro Hero Hawks 

Number two hero

And he's standing in front of you right now?

''hello,'' he said with a grin.

You greeted him back.

'' would you care if I sit here?" he asked as he indicated the chair in front of you.

You couldn't help but look around the cafe. There were plenty of stools and tables unoccupied.

Yet you hummed a yes.

There was one word to describe what you deemed at the moment awkward.

''what's your career'' He suddenly asked.

You were surprised he even continued to try a conversation out of you. Nonetheless, you responded

''I'm an Author,''

he hummed 

''interesting''

''And you?''

Sure, you already knew but still, you wanted to continue the conversation a little longer. Out of boredom really.

He gave a breathy laugh

'' you don't know?''

You shook your head

''no, sorry''

''well, that's a first,''

''what's your name?'' He asked

''what's yours,''

You were well aware, you probably sounded like a child right now.

He chuckled

''Takami''

''nice to meet you Takami,''

He had a shit-eating grin you wanted to punch off his face.

Why was he smirking?

''what's your name?''

You told him your last name, not really on first-name bases since you didn't know this man at all.

He repeated it himself. You felt a weird sensation at him pronouncing your name. 

And you heard him say your name along with his ''Takami''

You widened your eyes at his boldness. How dare he say that you don't even know-

''I gotta head off duty calls,'' he said as he got up from the seat and stretched.

''wanna maybe give me your number? So I can call you later on?'' 

he had that shit-eating smirk again

''no, thank you''

Hawks was surprised. He's never been rejected before by anyone. Every girl he'd wink at would fall to his feet at a chance with him. He was popular with the ladies. However, you were different.

''I'm just glad at least I got your name.''

He waved you bye and exited through the glass doors of the cafe, you saw him flap his wings, as they slowly levitate him up into the sky, but before he was out of view, he winked at you flashing you his smile.

I hate him

I hate him

I hate him

But you don't know why, do you?

Is it because he made you feel something?

Or is it because you want to hate him, but you don't have a reason yet

                                       ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

''you met THE hawks!''

''yea,'' you said coolly

'' He was willing to ask for your number, and you refused!''

You knew exactly where this was going. Hori was your close friend from work. Knowing each other for three years is enough time to promote the title.

She was a ''big'' fan of the winged hero. It only made sense, She'd be mad I rejected her idol.

''Shimoda!''

''what is it ?''

''she rejected Hawks,''

''wait what you spoke to the Hawks ?''

you nodded. Honestly, it wasn't something to be proud of.

''He even asked for her number,''

And the discussion persisted. They got infuriated at you for being so hard-born.

Serendipity 

fuck serendipity 

Why?

Hmm, you may be asking at this very moment, Well simple serendipity fucked up your life.

It didn't leave things as they were no, instead it wanted to ''help'' out.

Your company had gotten a call around noontime. The caller had asked for you.

And, you were shocked to find out who it was. They claimed it was urgent to speak to you. 

Which was weird for you, your parents never called you.

That right there could've been your red flag instead curiosity gets the best out of a person always.

''hello?''

''hey little nugget''

your brow furrowed.

what the actual hell was this

''Who is this?''

''aww, don't tell me you forgot about me already,''

The voice sounded familiar, it could be no other than

''Hawks?'' voice sounding high pitched though it wasn't intended to be.

''the one and only, ''

''how'd you get my works phone number?''

''I got my ways,'' he cleared his throat '' I was thinking... I could maybe take you out to dinner?''

cliche' 

you thought as you rubbed your chin

''I'm busy,''

''C'mon,  just let me take you out.'' he persisted

"I'll pick you up by the time you clock out,''

''I said no-''

Beep

fucken prick

You dreaded leaving work, and having to deal with a huge ego pro-hero exhausted you.

You never wanted more from him. He was the one who approached you, after all.

He went to extreme measures to find out your work location, which did startle you.

Of course, you didn't tell your work friend, knowing if you did, she'd make you go, so you kept this one to yourself.

You looked over to your mini clock located on the right corner of your work desk.

It read 8:30, and your eyes widened.

You groaned running your hand down your face.

god no

You thought to yourself.

Just great, so fucken great

You start thinking of ways to avoid him, but the thought that he is there blocks you from even thinking straight.

Grabbing your purse as you stood up from your chair.

Your phone chimed.

Without a second thought, you opened up the notification.

Hori<3:you wanna go to the bar with me and Shimoda

A wide smile made itself in your features.

And here I thought my luck wasn't any.

With newly made confidence, you grabbed your belongings and made your way to the front door of your work building.

Walking out of the building, the first thing you saw was a sports car, colors red and black.

The windows of the car rolled down and revealed hawks.

He gave you a boyish grin.

As he indicated you come over.

Reluctantly you did, Hawks then got off the car and walked over to the passenger's side, and opened the door for you.

"hawks something came up'' you begin your excuse.

''get in'' He demanded with an apathetic expression.

Whatever gentleness or outgoing aura he had before dissipated completely.

His voice raised, and you felt intimidated.

So you silently stepped into the car. The door slamming was heard, along with him mumbling something you couldn't quite hear from the inside of the vehicle.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, as he walked around the car.

The driver's door opened, and he stepped in slamming the door shut, and locking the doors.

He turned his head in your direction and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

''wasn't so hard was it?''

You opted to nod, not trusting your voice, knowing that at any given moment you'll break down into tears.

'' We need to get you something to wear, work clothes aren't very appropriate for this occasion''

Now realizing that he indeed has a nice dress shirt with black dress pants and a Rolex.

And you looked nothing superior to his level. If anything, you seemed like you were nothing.

The drive was about 20 minutes, and it being quiet was very uncomfortable, but you are glad you've finally made it.

The store he'd token you were an indeed expensive and a very well-known store.

Hawks then got off the car and walked over to your side to open the door for you.

You wanted nothing more than to puke.

He reached his hand out for you to take, which you hesitantly took.

The street lamps illuminated his gold irises perfectly. His red crimson wings seemed more contrasted.

He helped you out, closing the door behind you. 

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you both walked to the entrance.

You both walked into the store. 

Immediately you felt like you didn't belong.

Soon a worker came to assist the two.

 She was stunning.

She had lengthy light brown hair with greenish-brown eyes. You were starting to feel envious.

'' How may I help the two of you'' she wore a bright smile.

''I need the finest dress in this shop''

Hawks sounded arrogant, it bugged you. You bite your bottom lip to avoid the commotion.

''all right, come this way, sir''

The women's heels clacked along the white floor as she walked over to a dressing room.

''wait here while I check for it''

He simply nodded as the woman took her to leave.

Hawks called out your name.

You turned your head in his direction.

 ''yes, hawks''

He then rolled his eyes, glaring at you.

'' Don't call me hawks call me Keigo.''

He wants you to call him by his name? And again, you did comply.

''sorry, I meant to say Keigo'' you corrected yourself.

The widest smile made itself on his features

you could've sworn his eyes were sparkling.

Soon she came back with a dress along with a manager.

''Hawks my man, how you doing'' the man conveyed in a cheerful voice.

''Great, I just need this one to look gorgeous for tonight''

He indicated to you.

Your face started heating as all eyes were on you. You hated too much attention.

''Don't worry we'll get that handled''

The man assured hawks, flashing you a smile.

Soon they left the fitting room to get ''the best dress'' they certainly have in stock.

''I would have gotten a dress tailored for you if I had planned '' Hawks voiced.

''you don't have to''

You stated, waving your hand dismissively.

                                          •─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You stared at yourself through the mirror, the dress fit perfectly, showing every curve on your body with enhancement.

 You wore a black cami cowl neck midi dress, it looked stunning.

Through the mirror of the fitting view, you saw hawks on the bench, licking his lips at the sight of you.

You shyly look away

''I think that's the one, don't you think love?''

You nodded your head, not giving a verbal response.

                                · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The restaurant was beyond what you have imagined. The valet opened the doors to the car as you then stepped out.

Hawks walk alongside you with his arm snaked around your waist.

You fiddled with the expensive jewelry on your neck he had brought you before arriving at the restaurant. The pendant had a k with diamonds engraved on the insides of the k. The necklace felt heavy on your neck.

Suddenly you feel something tickle your cleavage. You glance down and notice a crimson feather in between your breast. You stare at it, confused, as you walk side by side with hawks up to the desk.

The waiter seated you shortly after, and you both sat at a secluded table.

''Isn't it perfect Babe'' hawks mussed. 

You nodded.

 You pulled the feather out of from in between your breast.

holding it in between your fingers

''Keigo why'd you do that?'' you said sternly.

''It's marking my territory, my little nugget.''

''territory? so now I'm owned'' You scoffed.

''Yea'' he said with a wide smile.

You couldn't believe this. What are you some object he can take a liking to, write his name on you?

''unbelievable'' 

''so, what are you ordering baby?''

The feather in between your finger then began to wiggle out of your hold as it flew its way back to your cleavage.

Looking down at the menu before you. Officially deciding that there was no way you'd make up your mind. All the dishes looked delicious your mouth was watering.

You ended up ordering a salad and water while hawks ordered chicken wings. Which for you was funny you were just about too close to comment on him and his wings but ended up biting your tongue once more.

For some reason was spent how any other couple would.

But you two weren't a couple.

''We should go to this nice hotel I saw-''

''it's getting a little late, and I have work tomorrow,'' you spoke.

Once again, hawk's face dropped, staring at you.

''But we can on my day off'' you tried

In an instant, his face lit up. It was rapid, you thought you were assuming things.

''so this means we'll see each other again?''

''sure''

As you were opening the door of the car to let yourself out, he quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you close.

His lips meet your own in a tender kiss. You felt pubes on his chin against your own. The kiss was short-lived as he then pulled away. Still in shock, you stepped out of the vehicle.

''ill text you later on,'' he said 

'' you don't have my number'' you stated

''I do, and ill send you a selfie of myself to prove it''

''wait how'd you even get my phone number,''

''I have my ways, anyways.''

With that being said he wished you goodnight and drove away.

You walked over to the front door of your home.

All you wanted to do at this very moment was to take a warm shower and sleep in your comfy bed.

                                                 ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Your phone chimed repeatedly as you typed away on your laptop. You were just about to turn off the notifications when you read it.

You've seen the media little bird

You furrowed your brows at the nickname.

And wait what did he mean about the media?

The first thing you saw when you opened up the media was some gossip article about hawks. The title grabbed your attention in an instant.

Hawks' latest hookup?

Hawks secretly has a relationship.

Hawks spotted in the spatula restaurant!

What the actual fuck was this?

Your face was all over the media.

You heard whispers around you in your workspace as you scrolled through your phone.

                               ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

These past few days have been nothing but gossip about the number two hero and his secret relationship.

Even going as far as having to hide your appearance, you'd have paparazzi tailing you at any given moment to take a shot of you.

A buzz interrupted your train of thought pulling you back into reality.

Flicking your eyes over to the phone. The screen lit up a notification on the lock screen.

Skimming the notification

Annoying bird

New message

In all honesty, you didn't feel like responding. Knowing Keigo, he would probably come over to your house and confront you for not answering in at least 6 minutes.

Opening the message

Let's go out again.

You typed onto the phone's keyboard. Pressing the send button after you've typed your sentence.

I'm busy, maybe next time?

That was a lie, you were currently comfortable on your bed you had decided to call off work not in any mood to be confronted by your coworkers about your ''relationship'' with the hero.

Darting your eyes over to your nightstand you grab the red feather. That was placed on top of it.

Holding it in your hand, you stared into the crimson feather.

At any given moment, this soft delicate feather could turn into a razor-sharp knife, if he wanted it to.

You hummed as you placed it back on the nightstand.

The phone buzzed again

I'm picking you up from your house be there in 5 min

Wait, how´d he know?

You looked over to the feather beside you, brows furrowing in realization.

You heard your balconies sliding doors open, your head snapped to the direction of the noise.

You stepped quietly out of your room looking down the hallway. Eyes squinting to adjust to the darkness.

Now in your living room, you glance over to your balcony door.

It was closed switch locked 

But you could´ve sworn you heard the door open

Dragging your feet over to turn on the living room lamp you heard a cabinet shut close.

Making your way over to the kitchen, you felt a strong arm grab you against him, slapping a hand over your mouth and muffling your whimpers.

''little bird, the second you hear someone come into your home you dial 911''

Your eyes widened.

He then let go of you.

Turning over to look him in the face, he wore a smirk.

''you scared me'' you barked.

''This just shows you wouldn't know what to do in that situation. Now I'm worried you can't protect yourself.''

you scoffed.

''no one really barges into my house without telling me first.''

'' I did tell you.''

''no, I told you I was busy'' you remarked. 

''busy? you called off work today.''

He spits back.

Crossing your arms, you then said something you´d later come to regret.

''I'm not your girlfriend, stop acting as if I were.''

He stared at you intently, his slit pupils narrowing. His wings spread a bit as he walked over to you. This image of him looked intimidating, placing both his hands on your shoulders.

''you're going to be soon.''

                        ______________⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆____________                                                /*yandere ml*/                         ______________⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆____________

''Your home is small.''

''it's fine'' you retorted.

''you say that now but you´ll soon come to realize this place would be small for our kids to roam around.''

You stared at him with pure disbelief. Why would he imply such a thing, especially after you´d just told him you two were nothing, not even friends?

''Don't worry frills, I got enough money to find us a good enough house.''

He took one more step further close to you.

''no need to look so troubled'' He reached his hand out to cradle your cheek, and you pushed him back away from you.

But it seemed no matter how hard you tried to get away he was always one step ahead.

'' Of course, we´ll do everything the right way we´ll get engaged and have a wedding honeymoon. All that package.''

Suddenly the words caught in our throat, and your heartbeat was banging against your ears.

''it won't be the same as my parents did, I'll protect you and our soon-to-come family. And provide you with your needs. You'll be a queen.''

All of a sudden breathing was now hard to do.

You didn't dare move an inch.

As the feather was now against your neck, no longer soft but in its sharp form.

Those gold eyes stared directly into your awaiting an answer.

You swallowed hard, breathing in sharply.

slowly nodding your head.

At this, he beamed with excitement, the corners of his eyes crinkled along with his pearl-white canines in view.

He then embraced you in a not-too-tight but not-too-loose embrace.

Wings enclosing around you.

Your face was flushed against his chest.

''You really were meant for me, baby bird. ''

Too scared to even bite back you nodded against his chest.

The aroma of his cologne enveloped your senses.

''can't wait to be a Takami huh?''

you bite hard on your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something you'd regret.

''You no longer have to worry about financial shit'' He assured you in that sick sweet voice he's fooled many with.

''Your main concerns will only consist of worrying about the kids and the house being neat and cleaned'' His voice became soft in a soothing voice, almost too good to be true.

____________

''How'd you get my ring size?'' You questioned.

You don't remember ever giving it to him.

''remember that feather?'' he questioned.

As you recalled that feather that had curled around your finger as he told you it would be your temporary ring. A way to let many know you belonged to him. And every individual who saw it had an idea of who.

You nod your head.

Staring down at your hand

no doubt this ring must have cost more than what you earn a salary a year.

Although the ring fit perfectly, it felt, as if it were cutting off your finger's circulation.

''beautiful huh?''

''yes''

This ring should not be on you, but on someone who really was in a happy engagement, and you were certainly not.

''I tried to find one that was good enough for you, but if this is not what you want, I'll find you another.''

''no, it's okay, this one’s alright.''

''alright?'' he questioned eyes sharp.

You cleared your throat ''I meant divine it's beautiful.''

''not as much as you are frills.''

© Mitsukiwa 2023-Do not copy,post or translate my work anywhere.

[sleepyking]

I’d like to preface this by saying I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL PSYCHOLOGIST. I’m a thirteen-year-old who has an interest in psychology and wanted to give this a try. And even though I consulted my mom, who is a licensed therapist with a degree in psychology, for some of this, and that I’ve done a shit ton of extensive research, still remember that this is just a hobby of mine, not a profession.

Also, color key:

Mal

Maleficent

Me(may also be bold if in a paragraph with another blue character)

Evie

Jay

Carlos

Hades

Freddie

With that out of the way, welcome to Psyhologically Analyzing Fictional Characters Part One: Mal[Descendants], brought to you by King and approximately four days of no sleep.

I’m going to split this up into sections: overall personality, motivations, backstory/personal history, desires, fears, moments from the books and movies that point to PTSD, and a look at some of her relationships(in no particular order).

And it’s all under the cut<3

OVERALL PERSONALITY

Mal’s character is honestly one of my favorites, even if just from the standpoint of breaking down everything that causes her to be how she is.

The wiki describes her as a “sneaky, smart, ruthless girl who was raised to be a leader.”

This is true–she is sneaky, she is smart, and she was raised to be a leader. Ruthless, however, is how she was at the beginning of the first movie. By the end of Descendants, she’s changed.

The wiki also mentions that she doesn’t want to appear weak, which I feel is one of the most accurate lines in the entire personality section of her wiki.

HISTORY

Mal was born and raised by Maleficent on the Isle of the Lost. On their own, those two things are terrible enough, but combined, they’re even worse.

She was also raised not knowing who her father was or what happened to him and why he wasn’t in her life, but we’ll get to that later. (Editing King here: I never actually get to that later)

She attended Dragon Hall, the school on the Isle, and, even though I’ve never read the books(sorry), I get the feeling that whoever taught there wasn’t the nicest and probably had unconventional methods of punishment.

Now, it’s no secret that Maleficent is evil–it’s literally the entire point of the movie(how she’s the “worst of them all”).

So, saying that she’s probably abusive isn’t that much of a stretch, even though I really wish it was because nobody deserves to go through life being abused by someone who’s supposed to protect and take care of them.

MOTIVATIONS

Motivation is a big part of a character, and can help you understand everything that they do.

As I said before, Mal doesn’t want to appear weak, especially to her mother, which gives us our first motivation.

Another thing that I’d like to mention is that Mal is protective of her friends.

And, from someone who’s extremely brotherly and protective of pretty much everyone, I understand a lot of what she does from the standpoint of how can I keep them safe?

Because, think about it: if Mal fails her mother, there’s more than one way of punishing her. There’s more than one way to keep her in line.

Physical punishments, even though they’re terrible, can get to a point where they aren’t as effective–the more of something that you experience, the higher your tolerance to it will be.

But emotional attachments? Those can be exploited in any way, shape, or form, and they’ll always work. If you care about someone, you’ll do what’s necessary to keep them safe. You can’t build a tolerance to something like threats if they’re aimed at other people.

DESIRES/GOALS

Desires and fears play a huge part in a story, and Descendants is no exception.

Throughout the first movie, Mal’s desires were mostly the same; at the beginning, it was to prove herself to her mother and to keep her friends safe(the latter never really changes). When they get to Auradon, it’s to steal the wand. As the story progresses, however, she becomes less and less sure of what she wants(as shown in If Only). By the end of the first movie, her desires have changed–she wants to stay in Auradon, she wants to be good, she wants to choose her own life.

In the second movie, she’s unsure, she doesn’t know what she wants anymore. She’s not used to anything in her new life–people are nice to her, she can do what she wants, she’s free of her mother.

But you can’t change your past, and you can’t work through trauma in a couple of days.

Even in the third movie, she’s not completely sure what she wants–she’s torn between what her heart says, and what her brain says. And after a lifetime of ignoring her heart and listening to her brain, what do you expect for her to do?

FEARS

The big one; her mother.

Mal is terrified of Maleficent, and we see this in the movies and in the books—they even explicitly say in the books that she’s scared of her mother.

Another one is not being enough. This isn’t said in any Descendants media(to my knowledge), but it is implied.

RELATIONSHIPS

Evie is like Mal’s older sister—honestly, she’s basically the older sister/“mom” of the Core Four. She takes care of everyone, and she keeps them (relatively) out of trouble when they’re in Auradon.

She’s the daughter of the Evil Queen, so, of course, she cares a lot about appearances(an example being in the second book when she gets goosebumps and her first thought is “That had to stop. Pebbly skin was so not attractive,” which I’ll talk about more when I get to Evie’s character analysis).

Jay is the protector of the group in a way—he’s the strongest, and he’s really protective of the others.

His relationship with Mal is actually one of my favorites, it’s SO SWEET(“when it came down to Mal, she was like a sister,”)

If Evie is the mom, he’s the dad(platonically).

If Evie is the older sister, Jay is the middle child—older than Mal and Carlos, younger than Evie.

Carlos is the baby brother, and he’s the most emotional of the four(he’s also the smartest!).

Mal’s relationship with him is special to me. Mal is kind of like the opposite of Carlos—she doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions, so she hides them, she locks them up and throws away the key. Carlos, on the other hand, accepts his emotions, he feels them.

BOOK/MOVIE SCENES

“For her mother was the great Maleficent, Mistress of Darkness, the most powerful and wicked fairy in the world and the most fearsome villain in all the land.” This speaks for itself.

“You know how much you are a disappointment to me,” This right here? This is verbal abuse.

“You didn't get to be number one by being merciful, or even reasonable.” No, no you don’t, not in the villain world. And if Maleficent wasn’t merciful to anyone, why would she make an exception for her daughter?

“It wasn't only Mal who could see her mother's hand in every stone around them. The carved creatures sneered in exactly the same way Maleficent did, their teeth pointed, their mouths cruel. Mal looked at them, frozen. Then Carlos realized it was because she was paralyzed by fear.” Mal is terrified. She sees things that remind her of her mother, and she freezes in place.

Not to mention that Maleficent literally calls her daughter a servant.

Now, onto book two:

“Out of habit, she looked over her shoulder at the door to Maleficent’s prison. Until recently, Mal had only felt the ground rumble like that when a great big dragon stomped around during the Coronation attack, so Mal couldn’t help but associate earthquakes with her mother.” Victims of abuse learn to associate certain things with punishment, and this is no different.

“Mal could think of a few M’s in her life, but there was only one M that mattered the most. The big one. Maleficent.” Pretty self explanatory in my opinion.

“In other words, darker than anything her friends at Auradon Prep could imagine…” The Isle is a terrible place—the exact opposite of Auradon. The AKs grew up practically spoiled, so they wouldn’t know how to last in that kind of world.

“When she was a little girl, Mal had been very terrified of her mother.”

“She was more the fearsome mistress that sent you on hopeless quests—like the one to retrieve her Dragon’s Eye scepter—and she didn’t take no for an answer.” The dictionary defines the word mistress as a few things. The ones that are most relevant for the point I’m trying to make are these: a woman in a position of authority or control. Sounds like Maleficent. A female head of household. Yep. And the one that sounds the worst in this context but I can’t rule out; the female owner of a dog, cat, or other domesticated animal.

Why am I so dark-

“Someone was skulking outside the door when Mal walked out, and she immediately tensed, prepared for an ambush.” Honestly, this one speaks for itself.

“You know if she ever gets out of there, she’ll come after you first.” That’s a pretty interesting choice of words there, Freddie, almost sounds as if Maleficent is gonna attack her own daughter…OH WAIT, THATS RIGHT-

I haven’t read the third book yet(nor have I finished the second one, sorry) but I will update when I do!

(Also, I’d like to point out that when Fairy Godmother raises her arms when welcoming the core four to Auradon, Mal flinches. Think of this as you like.)

[sleepy-aletheas]

Casually losing my mind over Celestia

This is me tossing my free train of thoughts with no edits or double-checking, cause it buzzes in my brain so loudly, I need it out.

It's a mess.

Simulanka = same story cycles with each ending its own

Phanes = 4 forms of names/roles = 4 tries of “cycles” = Paimon is 5th??? 4.5???

Primordial One (it/its) = Istaroth/Tokoyo Ookami/King’s Priest = King (incarnation* of the Primordial One) = ? = ?

*incarnation is such a messy word, because it means something along the lines of divinity made flesh; so like, a divine power assumes the body of a human or animal. In Christianity it’s in relationship with Jesus, but apparently it was a hot topic for debate for centuries, cause no one actually ever agreed on one interpretation, where some made Jesus to be the Creator and not the created, or he was God but also Man at the same time…

Since the four shades are split off of PO, it either could mean that they’re all split at the same time into different (but 50% same?) individuals, or the splits came one after another, for each samsara Teyvat went through.

On that note, the Narzissenkreuz split the samsara cycles into Hyperborea, Natlantean, Remuria, Khraun-Arya, in which AT THE TIME THE ORDO WROTE THIS DOWN they were still in the first half of the 4th cycle (since the ordo established after the Cataclysm, but they were children during it, it must be written down 400+ years ago present time). Those names were just taken from ancient texts, and that the samsara (and these names) are in relation to the spiritual evolution. (also there might be some more details in the Akademiya, with how they worded it to not step on toes…hmm)

What if Celestia is empty, because in a last “trial” (a last hail mary) the Primordial One left Celestia to try and mend this corruption that just keeps seeping through the Abyss…and that last trial character, the last role, the last form…is Paimon?

Hell, maybe the Sustainer is another split from Paimon (or Paimon is the little split, connected with a rainbow string up to the Heavens…) who’s job now is not slapping the wrists of Archons for abandoning their gnosis/jobs, or slamming more nails down, or punishing people for committing cardinal sins (we don’t talk enough about those, really), but instead they're keeping the sky from breaking, and stop anyone trying to leave Teyvat (for some reason).

On a side note, the Primordial One is making my brain turn to mush, because what is the deal with it???? Born of an egg with wings and a crown and androgynous, but for the world to be created, the shell of the egg had to be broken, and yet “Phanes” (quotation marks, cause ‘maybe’ feels like a weird thing to put in the sentiment of calling something from the recounting directly from Istaroth…) used the eggshell to separate the “universe” from the “microcosm of the world”. So either the egg never cracked and Teyvat is a dreamworld because we have to wake up Phanes to become real (and if Paimon is Phanes, her continuous dislike and skepticism of dreams and fantasies and absolute refusal of accepting such things for some reason when others are fine with it…is weird, especially when she’s chill with so many other things. Is it because of some weird dream-logic where the dreamer has build in defenses from realizing they dream to not wake up?? I genuinely don’t know, I have lucid dreams, I’m not sure how it usually works), or the egg cracked in some of the samsara (or in each one a little more, in different places) or because of the Second Who Came, and that’s why the abyss (the universe) is seeping into the dream, into Teyvat, and it’s corrupting it with nightmares and corrosion.

In the quest with the Pari, we found out in a document that the Khvarena and abyssal powers work the same way, using the same sort of energy, but have different results (paraphrasing from the back of my mind). And since the Khvarena is music (and so is the Aranara’s Sourcesong, and Remuria with their Phobos/Symphony), we could see Teyvat’s natural power that shapes it as lullabies, and the abyss is the nightmares that seep in from the outside, tarnishing everything it touches.

If Simulanka is the reflection of Teyvat, with its stars representing the people of “the real world”, then Teyvat is a reflection of reality, and the vision bearers (the prominent stars with specific roles and destinies) are a reflection of reality of someone else. The tracks that is destiny to keep the people of Metropolis safe was meant to protect until the people there grew strong enough to let go of it, returning the tracks back to the stars and live their lives on their own. And even if not everyone is ready, they’re not alone, and have to teamwork their way through life.

Maybe Teyvat’s constellations act the same way. Some people gain constellations to fulfill certain roles, and their vision are the training wheels to help them achieve these ambitions. But eventually they don’t need them. And so they go back to the sky. And some destinies can change, because stories follow rules, unfolding in cyclical patterns, but each should follow its own course...

…..

I lost my train of thought. Stormy weather truly messes with me.

[themontgomeryinstitute]

Journal of David Borne (pt.2)

Robotics of Dawn

part 1

Little note before the entry, I will refrain from making any more comments on these entry posts, and instead create a single large post with my thoughts and other things.

Despite saying the opposite I will edit one part of the entry due to the classified information it contains.

We will remember David Borne.

< Start Entry >

Date: 29/05/2010 Name: Dr. David Borne As of my second entry, I’m still quite unsure on what to write within it. I’ll try to remain as on point and professional as I can, though at times I am sure I will stray off topic. Now that the introductions are done with the first entry, I will continue off where I have left off, and perhaps add my own cents to the matter. In the case of both subjects S████, who suffers from adverse effects of hypnotism and emotional manipulation, they are recovering alongside familiar N████, who used to stay with them at their old facility, and experienced similar degree of emotional manipulation, though as they developed a distrust of their abuser they were able to resist more of the lasting effects of the abuse. Of course, the distrust of other adult figures which may resemble DR... ███████. The name has been redacted due to privacy concerns over the security regarding this and many other documents the institute stores.  One of the rules, as mentioned previously clearly states there are to be no details of the institute anywhere in any documents that may ‘in however unlikely circumstance be accessed by those outside the institute’.  Either way, the more time I spent with the two of them, monitoring them, as I had been instructed to do, the more they seemed human… I’m not sure whether revealing such information here is against some rules. I will have to follow up on that with the boss, but so far, I haven’t noticed much other than their apprehensiveness at my presence.   I haven’t gotten the chance so far to interact with other subjects, as they are situated in order wings, with some being in completely different buildings.  But I am aware of the general research that has been completed, and honestly, it is both fascinating and unnerving. The breakthroughs and confirmations both… ah- I probably shouldn’t say more than this on the matter. By next time I will be better prepared on what I am able and not to say on matters regarding what is being studied. Mr. Montgomery has a certain… aversion to technology, for reasons unknown. And to be honest, I feel even if asked he would not be too willing to answer me with a genuine answer… other than the iteration of the rules. I believe this has gotten enough off topic, and without much more I can say while still being certain what I say remains on topic and do not break any rules, I will end this entry here. Hopefully, my future entries are more interesting to read.

< End Entry >

part 3 part 4 part 5

Singed, Andrew Kaszovski

Date of post: 13/10/11

[winterandwords]

Word find tag (cloud, branch, tree, animal, stars + hand, yell, deal, wait, lose)

I'm combining two word find tags into one big lemgthy boi featuring lines from Bridge From Ashes because I'm deep into editing and absolutely loving it.

@catchingbigfish gave me cloud, branch, tree, animal, and stars, and @pertinax--loculos gave me hand, yell, deal, wait and lose. Thanks, friends!

CLOUD

My awareness falls through the people around us, shadows of ghosts, blurred faces and hollow gaps in reality, lit from behind by flashes of ultraviolet and xenon blue and pink, painting silhouettes like midnight cloud cover.

BRANCH LIMB

Maybe a well-trained attack dog is all I'm ever going to be. Anyway. I’d put money on at least half the people in these lifts not having all the limbs they were born with, but none of them have faces like mine.

TREE

The room is all gold and deep reds and dark glass with windows reaching up to a double-height ceiling. The balcony outside is filled with kinds of trees and plants I’ve never seen before. We’re so high up, the only buildings visible are a handful of other towers that pierce the clouds.

ANIMAL

You still get sent out on assignments like this sometimes or, if you’re unlucky enough to get promoted again, you end up leading them. But they’re not your bread and butter. Once you’re a pet instead of cattle, they’re just an occasional meal.

STARS

The room’s dark apart from slashes of blue-green light from outside shining through the blinds. The sounds of the boundaries around us and miles upon miles of city beyond melt into our heartbeats and the sky collapses and covers us in stars. And I need this. I need him. I need whatever part of me is still breathing when it’s over. “Please.”

HAND

 “The scars go the whole way, but you don’t.” I reach for his hand with its cuts and swollen knuckles and lift the bottom of my shirt just enough for him to touch the skin above my waistband, carved and burned into layers of intersecting lines, mottled with a spectrum of black, purple and yellow bruises. “This is as far as you go.”

YELL

Down the hall, between me and where I’m going, a door swings open and someone rolls and crashes out, followed by a shriek and what looks like a low-grade scatter bullet based on the chips it breaks out of the opposite wall. I stop long enough to make sure nothing hits me, then I step around the angry pile of rags yelling empty threats at the source of the bullet.

DEAL

“You sent him to research and marked him as expandable?” She taps a finger on the back of my hand where the line from the graft has long since vanished. “And you would’ve left him dead in a pool of blood on the floor in temp holding if I hadn’t stopped you, which would’ve been a whole mess of paperwork that we’d both have had to deal with. There’s no moral high ground here.”

WAIT

He lifts his coat from the chair and takes out a knife and a heavy-duty cauteriser. It’s way more hardcore than what I carry or what he’s used with me before and it isn’t recreational. It could save lives in the right hands, but it’s death waiting to happen in his.

LOSE

I don’t look at him when I leave. I don’t stop at the observation deck to talk. I’ve done my part. I follow corridors and lifts and meaningless artificial daylight back to the darkness of my office. Ezra will come and find me. He’ll complain about me leaving Examination without coming back to the deck first. I’ll tell him to fuck off and he’ll try not to lose his temper but he’ll lose it anyway and it won’t affect me any more than it ever does.

Tagging @thegreatobsesso, @manathen, @nanashi23, @ezestreet and @i-can-even-burn-salad. If you'd like to do it, the words to search your WIP (or completed works, because fuck the system) for are space, lost, dark, and pain.

Also, this is an open tag, which means anyone seeing this is welcome to jump in and do it. If you're new to Tumblr, writeblr or tag games, you're especially encouraged to get involved. It doesn't matter if we don't know each other and you're seeing this on someone else's blog. Remember to @ me so I can read and reblog your post 💜

[meant2beestudios]

Lord of Lies Devlog #1

September 9th, 2023

Hey hey, it’s Joy! (Flowersforjoy)

Note: This Devlog is split into sections, so feel free to take it all in or skip to what you want to know. If you read any Devlogs at all, you’re a blessing (also you’re hot).

Without further ado let’s talk about my #Once Upon A Time VN Jam Entry:

(Credit to mikalogo for this gorgeous logo!)

What is “Lord of Lies”? A good question, but before we can talk about “Lord of Lies” we need to talk about: 

Okay? What the hell is “Princess Poison”?

In short, ‘Princess Poison’ is ‘Lord of Lies’. In many ways they are the same story, but in many other ways they are two different things.

‘Princess Poison’ was actually my first full length novel I ever finished back in 2019 *gasp*- it is a 60k word, half dark fantasy/adventure, half lgbt romance novel. Written back when I was a young aspiring novelist.

‘Princess Poison’, was a story about Lawrence Bane, a 25 year old man born with a ‘witch power’ the power to track any living thing, given he has DNA to do so. He’s hired by the leader (who only goes by the code name: King) of a witch hunting group known as: “The Noble House Witch Hunters” hence, the code names for the members being: King, Queen, Prince, Princess… etc. Lawrence is hired by King to track his second in command “The Princess” and what they find when tracking her, changes Lawrence’s life forever. Sending him on a wild adventure full of danger. 

The entire story is available here on AO3 (I was bold lol).

Note: I don’t actually like the original story nor do I think you should read it, unless you have way too much time on your hands and/or morbid curiosity. I posted it here mainly to prove that it does in fact exist. For me, this story only serves as a way to gauge my growth as a writer in the last 5 years. 

The Problems with Princess Poison

What’s wrong with it? You may be asking.

Nothing especially egregious outside of just being the first full length piece I ever wrote. Most of it’s problems stem from the fact that it was an ambitious first attempt.

Princess Poison’s biggest problems were, (to name only the major ones):

Too many characters in the main cast

Villain was predictable and very cartoon-y

Too much dialogue and exposition

Poorly written fight scenes galore

No sense of time progression

Lackluster/nonexistent world building

A poorly explained power system

Complicated, jarring plot twists

Plot holes

Character arcs that amount to nothing

In short, it was a total mess. I had finished the story but, it was too much, and not enough. I was 19 when I wrote it originally (I’m 24 going on 25 for reference) it was a lot for a new author to write a story with so many moving parts. 

I was proud of myself for finishing it, and finishing it in a 3 month period. But what I was left with was a mediocre end product. 

Not to mention the actual writing for the story was lonely and torturous. I forced myself to get up at 5am and write, I forced myself through scenes I didn’t even like (but thought I needed).  It was after I finished writing it that I had a bit of crisis in regards to if I wanted to write again at all because the experience was so miserable. And what I came back with wasn’t even worth the struggle. Worst of all, I was forced to face the reality that I may not like writing as much as I thought I did although I had known I wanted to be a writer since I was 8 years old.

In order for ‘Princess Poison’ to work it would have to be completely rewritten and twice the length.

RPG Maker, The Pandemic, and Mistakes 

Okay, so after writing Princess Poison initially I took 3 months off before I decided to continue working on it. I still wasn’t sure if this was what I wanted to do. But I had convinced myself that writing is the only passion I ever had, and that this was just how it had to be.

How naive I was.

So I got to editing and enlisting beta readers. I actually have always enjoyed this process, it feels good to share your work with others (even if they are critiquing it. At least you know that you are making moves to improve your work.

And as we established this story definitely needed improvement.

The common feedback I kept getting were all the problems I listed before. My solution to these problems…I needed to rewrite it. 

But I didn’t wanna rewrite Princess Poison, I didn’t want to write a whole other novel, because it wasn’t just a couple things that needed to be tuned, it had to be built from the ground up.

So…why not make it into something that wasn’t a novel?

Enter RPG Maker.

Why RPG Maker you may ask?

At this time in my like I’d been a humongous fan of Dan and Phil for many years. And one of my favorite videos on their conjoined gaming channel, one I would rewatch a lot, was this gem: 14 YEAR OLD PHIL’S GAME - Dan and Phil Play: The Mark Of Oxin!

Basically the video is the two guys: Dan and Phil playing a game Phil had made himself when he was 14 years old in RPG Maker 2000 (I think?)

Something that stuck with me about this video was how Dan was so impressed by Phil making a game so young and finishing it. 

Phil’s game made me feel a little better about Princess Poison was it good? No. But, it existed, it was finished and best of all I’d done it all by myself, that alone was impressive. 

Had Phil kept making games, he’d have gotten better. What mattered though, was that he had fun. He shared it with his school friends, then Dan as an adult, and then the world. 

So again, why not make Princess Poison into a game?

I mean let’s go back to some of those bullet points.

Too many characters in the main cast

Perfect for RPG 

Too much dialogue and exposition

If the dialogue was optional, it would add to the experience, not take away.

Poorly written fight scenes galore

Didn’t need to write any fight scenes, you could just play through it.

No sense of time progression

The time progression in game feels a lot more tangible.

Lackluster/nonexistent world building

The world I’d be forced to build, the environments, the people that lived there, the culture, etc…

A poorly explained power system

The power system could be the battle system!

There were still obviously plenty of story related problems that still needed to be fixed, but if I wasn’t being bogged down by descriptions of environments and the logistics of fight scenes, I’d have more time to focus on the characters and plot.

So I’d started learning RPG maker, somewhere in late 2019-and all throughout 2o20, the perfect time to learn it since a little thing went around, that you may have heard of… 

COVID 19 and the pandemic! I had gotten my first apartment and had ample time to learn the program.

And boy did I! It became my hyper-fixation I put in easily 500 hours in the coarse of a couple months. I learned, and then it was finally time, nearly a year and half later to make-

Princess Poison: The Game or PP Game as I childishly called it…

At first when working on the game, I kept pretty much everything the same, whole scenes from the book put into game format. It was fun figuring out how to translate the world in my head, to a visual space. The environments especially. Then creating my characters in RPG Maker MV, developing their classes and fighting styles, etc…

I was having so much fun! More fun than I had writing since I was a middle schooler. I’d worked, and worked, rewriting a good portion of the story putting so so many hours into the game.

But I made a mistake, one many devs/game makers know to avoid.

Backup your builds.

I hadn’t, a file got corrupted, and just like that. All that work- POOF!

Gone.

All my hours, for nothing.

I was devastated. I was so angry, so tired. I mourned the loss of the game I loved so much.

I took another break, but- only for a month.

Because unlike novel writing, I did enjoy working in RPG maker, and though I’d lost basically a third of the total game. It wasn’t all lost.

I just had to work again, but this time smarter.

So I did. I somehow managed to push my grief aside, and work again.

I backed up every save, every time I made a huge addition.

I organized my maps better, I made the story more concise, I worked tirelessly until I was able to catch up where I was, and surpass it.

But another thing happened. 

Not as tragic as before, but another thing all devs know.

Burnout.

I was exhausted, I got to the point where opening the build was enough to make me feel ill and I’d close my laptop. I couldn’t stand it.

Not to mention, had I not lost the initial build. I might have been done by now.

It was 2021, and I worked on it but very slowly. Almost not at all.

I wanted a change. I had to do something else.

While looking for assets for PP Game (yes we’re still calling it that), on Lemmasoft forums, I discovered some forum posts asking for visual novel writers. I’d applied, created discord, starting using itch, and fell into the world of VN dev.

I’d done some contract writing for other studios and solo devs, but nothing really ever came to fruition, frustrated I decided to join a jam, met a programmer, and started to make my own visual novels. A boy’s love story you may know as ‘Tattoos and Tulips’, something simple for Yaoi Jam 2021. 

I failed initially with Tattoos and Tulips development and so put that aside, and turned my focus back to Princess Poison.

I worked slowly on Princess Poison for a couple more months, leading into 2022, before rebuilding a team for Tattoos and Tulips. 

I’d finished writing TNT (a story with more words than Princess Poison somehow lol) in a 3rd of the time (I wrote TNT in 3 weeks). And the kicker… I adored writing TNT, and the final product (back when I only had the script). I had realized I did love writing stories in a novel format. It was possible!

So after I had finished writing TNT I continued running the team and when I had some free time I decided what Princess Poison needed was what I had with TNT- it needed a team. 

So I started building one, a small one. Tattoos and Tulips had artists, composers, beta readers, etc…  Princess Poison had only me. So I hired an artist, I got a co-writer, and I brought on a composer, and unsurprisingly I fell back in love with it. I was going to finish Princess Poison the game finally, and under my new studio! It was all going to work out.

But then one last thing I forgot to account for happened. I backed up my saves, I took needed breaks, and had others to share my enthusiasm and breathe fresh life into the project, but life happened. 

My mental health took a horrible turn, (I’ve dealt with panic disorder since I was 6 years old and have been medicated since I was 17) I didn’t know it then, but I had stupidly avoided my medication for so long that I had started to go through withdrawals, very strong withdrawals. Leaving me anxious, depressed, and laying in bed most days for 3 months. In addition, my teammates had their own mental health issues, and personal life interferences and they had to abandon the project. I was all alone with Princess Poison again

I didn’t start to feel better until the start of 2023, I didn’t work on anything during that time other than my own health, and at that point I’d gotten a full time job. 

It was starting to feel like, even if I wanted to work on my games, I didn’t have the time. This proved to not be true. I wrote all of Crabs and Cocktails in February. Then got really involved in the indie dev scene during Otome Jam 2023, releasing Tattoos and Tulips during in April. 

I was finding my footing as a studio and dev for the first time.

I met other devs, played their games, and fell fully in love with the community. I was constantly inspired by those I spoke to and worked with. 

My development with Tattoos and Tulips, Cassie, and Crabs and Cocktails just felt for the most part second nature to me. So the problem might have been that solo developing a game just wasn’t for me…or was it?

Once Upon A Time VN Jam

Then a little jam came to town sometime in 2023 and I knew immediately I had to join, mainly because it was ran by two extremely talented and wonderful friends of mine Chimeriquement and Len. 

This jam’s premise brought up old feelings however, though Princess Poison was never a Fairy Tale or even a retelling, there were many allusions to Fairy Tales in Princess Poison, and a little seed got planted in my head. But I pushed it back, I’d tried so many times to make this project happen and it wasn’t happening. It wasn’t meant to be. So I wanted to participate but with my own new original fairy tale story.

But for some reason my brain would not leave Princess Poison. And I hated that.

That original fairy tale story got shelved, and I wondered if I was going to participate in OUAT at all…

But… I am the type of writer that goes where my heart leads me. I learned from TNT that if I wrote what my heart wanted, it would go well. 

So I did a crazy thing. I decided, I won’t do something original for this jam.

I’ll give Princess Poison one last chance.

I work a lot. And my job is the perfect place to brainstorm and one afternoon I got a lot of stuff together. 

It was as if all my years of experience writing, deving, living even- helped me develop a story that was much better than the original. Sharing a lot of it’s foundation, but with a whole new structure.

The ideas were firing on all cylinders, the characters were making sense, the plot was compelling, exciting! My playlist I made for the story made more sense now? What was going on?

The story changed, a lot. Some of the key things were the same, but so many things were different. Better.

The title even changed. Princess Poison was too juvenile, too edgy, too misleading- not what this project was.

I outlined the story, and though not perfect it was the best it had ever been.

The main thing that changed, and is directly responsible for the biggest changes in the story is the protagonists’: Lawrence’s power. Instead of tracking any living thing, he could tell verbal lies with 100% accuracy. It was the missing piece, after that everything just worked, and “Lord of Lies” was born.

Redemption Arc/Plans Going Forward

So why do you think its going to work this time? Put simply, I don’t. I am taking a leap of faith. I am solo developing this project, the only outside help is an artist I commissioned, and the support of my friends (and potential beta testers). 

It’ll be the first project under Meant to Bee Studios that isn’t made by a team. And that’s terrifying for me.

I think I am a decent writer, I can cast voice actors, I can even market a game. But to have practically everything else be my responsibility. To be creating alone again…

Except I am not alone, I have so many dev friends, many of whom solo develop themselves: Snakkiez, Lacydigital, Chattercap… and so many more! They don’t feel alone, I can learn from them. I have what Joy of the past didn’t have.

Now that doesn’t mean it will be smooth sailing.

I’ve joked on Twitter and among close friends that I feel like Lawrence- thrust into unfamiliar territory with a couple tools to guide me. I’m a young knight leaving their village to slay the dragon.

The jam is generous at 3 months, but this is a really big game. Even with all the stuff I have from last time, lots of it has to be rewritten or taken out completely so in some ways I am working from scratch. 

The cast is still large, and I worry some of them may slip through the cracks.

I’ve never balanced and RPG before.

I have to make sure the story takes as much precedent, if not more- than the mechanics and gameplay.

It’s nerve wracking and I honestly question myself every day if this is the right thing to do but, something in me is just saying it is. 

That this time will be different and that, if I just apply all I’ve learned from this journey I can finally put a cap on this project for good. 

I can beat this boss.

I’ve succeeded with every other project I have worked on, but Princess Poison was the one that got away. 

It has the most potential now than it ever has. I’ve spent so much time with these characters, so much time in RPG maker, so much time time managing, running teams, making/playing games, talking to people, living life.

If I felt like Princess Poison/Lord of Lies was beyond hope I’d have dropped it in favor of something else but I can’t. I have to see it through, I have to finish it for my own sanity. 

((I do want to note that it’s fine to give up on projects- some you just outgrow and that’s fine.)) 

But this story has grown with me: this most recent outlining process came together in a way it never had and I loved it again. For the first time, in a long time I believed in this project! And the theme, which I cannot say for sake of major spoilers, is the biggest reason this project must see the light of day. This game has the potential to be my best story to date. And that’s saying a lot since all my stories are super near and dear to my heart. But Lord of Lies can outshine them all, only time will tell. 

So here we are….

For the past month or so I have been working on this project, I have character concept sketches, in game maps, a full outline. Now I just need the strength, time, and willpower to see it through to the end. So I decided, let’s make a devlog, let’s document and make others aware of this project, let’s hold myself accountable. In addition, I’ll be reaching out to friends, streaming in discord servers my work process, and having fun with this project.

Because, in addition to some of the mistakes I had made, the biggest one dev’s make- is not having fun with what they are doing, myself included.

It’s good to get things done, there is a culture that is romanticized of ‘the grind’, and yes working hard is great! But it’s not sustainable, it’s not conducive to a project filled with passion. At least for me.

I cannot create my best when I don’t love my project. So I am going to love Lord of Lies in a way I never loved Princess Poison. 

I’m going to have a memorable 3 months with this project and right my wrongs.

I hope you’ll follow my journey, and soon playthrough Lawrence’s journey on December 31st 2023 the official release day for Lord of Lies!~

Next Week’s Devlog Sneak Peak

For next week’s Devlog; we will be taking a closer look at what Lord of Lies is, now that I’ve talked about my journey with it’s predecessor: Princess Poison is.

Next week I’ll be talking about the cast, world, mechanics, etc… in a non spoilery fashion. Giving you a glimpse into what to expect from this LGBT Romance/Dark Fantasy/Grim Fairytale/Adventure Visual Novel/RPG.

If you like the sound of that please check back in every Saturday from now until December 30th for all devlogs during development.

Credit to the wonderful: Gisselle! My sprite and CG artist! You’ll be seeing more of this cast and her work next week!

Final Note:

Unrelated but still important! Crabs & Cocktails my yaoi/bl kinetic visual novel just came out! It’s full of sex jokes, beach puns, and a silly/flirty romance between a lifeguard and a bartender! Please go check it out if you’re interested!

Until next Saturday!~

[worldseer]

The Sacrificial Urchin - Prologue

MASTERLIST

Summary: Introduction of Muriel Rivvikyn's parents, Faera and Igor. Muriel is finally born, and the story begins.

Overall fic warnings: Graphic warning (i.e. gore, canon-level violence to BG3/DND), religious themes, sensitive topics (i.e. homelessness, mental health, bullying, etc), toxic relationships, and a bunch of angst

Chapter warnings: Childbirth, mentions of some medical stuff, but otherwise fluffy

Chapter length: 781

Author's Note: This is the prologue to introduce Muriel! I wanted to ease readers into the story first, and also work on the context of Muriel's parents and background first. A huge thanks to my partner, @lucidz-dreamz and @beedlejoose for beta-reading this and helping with making edits! Comments and reblogs are welcome and encouraged, and I do hope you enjoy this story!

A baby’s cries broke through the otherwise quiet evening, finally signifying the end of a grueling period of pain, overwhelming discomfort, and illness. The two new parents gazed upon the bloodied, squealing babe with a mixture of awe, relief, and overwhelming joy. The father carefully took care of the umbilical cord, uttering words of encouragement to his wife as he wiped his new child clean.

“It’s a girl,” Igor said softly, his tears glimmering in the warm lamplight.  “It’s a little baby girl, my love. . .” he continued, then looked up at his exhausted, sweaty wife. “We have a daughter. . . after so long. . .” 

The mother could only laugh tearfully, pain ebbing away as she looked at her baby girl. “Several months and so many tries. . . hah- it’s a miracle. A gift from the gods. . .  a little daughter just for us.” “We’re parents, love.”

“We are. . . we have a little baby girl. . . And it was worth every second of waiting for her to arrive,” Faera said in turn, reaching for her newborn. Igor relented, handing off the infant to her as he tended to the other matters of cleaning up and ensuring Faera’s health was still stable. Faera could only look at her new daughter with joy, having that first moment of skin to skin contact, and wrapping her in a soft, handmade blanket prepared for this very occasion. “Such a tiny, sweet thing,” she commented. “She’s perfect . . . my sweet, sweet little girl.” Wails slowly turned to fussy sounds, then soft coos. Once held close and enveloped in warmth, the babe quieted and relaxed. 

“She’s a beauty,” Igor said, smirking up at Faera. He added, “Must be that elven side she inherited.”

“Oh don’t give yourself so little credit. . . I’m sure you influenced her beauty somehow with your human charm.” “Definitely,” Igor replied to her, sarcasm evident. “. . . She’s got my hair at least,” he added, smirking this time.

Faera snorted a laugh, then shook her head at her husband’s comments. “You and your sarcasm,” she muttered. “Maybe I passed that trait on too.” “Oh what a terrible curse that would be. I’d have to deal with two of you.” “You’d love it.” That reply earned another snort of laughter. 

Once most of the blood was cleaned away and Igor ensured there were no leftover complications that needed tending to, he moved to wash his hands before lying beside his wife. A few strands of his inky hair fell in front of his face, and tanned freckled skin wrinkled as a smile moved over his bearded face. Faera saw his teary smile and felt her own tears build again; damn Igor for infecting her with overwhelming joy. 

“Have you thought of a name, love?” he asked her. He stared down at the pale baby wrapped in green cloth, with a mess of short black hair stuck to her little head and small, steady breaths leaving her chest. “In truth, I’ve struggled on what to name her. She’s two halves combined. . . human and elf. . . She’ll already have the elven last name.” Faera confessed. 

“Shall I come up with a name then?” Igor then suggested.

His wife sighed, “That would be a good idea, yes.” 

He thought long and hard about what name would suit his new daughter, one of his calloused hands gently petting her head as he pondered it. “How about. . . something to do with nature?” Igor suggested, which earned a nod of approval. He went through all the basic ideas first. Tree and flower names sounded too common and simple. Names like Creek or Brook weren’t fitting either. But after several seconds and much internal debate, Igor found one he liked. . . He just hoped Faera liked it too.

“What about Muriel? Muriel Rivvikyn?” he asked her. 

Faera glanced over at him, tilting her head. “What does ‘Muriel’ mean?”

“Translated from one human dialect. . . it means sparkling or shining sea. . .” Igor explained, “The dialect comes from my mother’s side of the family. You’d love them if you ever wanted to visit. They’re very blunt, but loving people.” 

Faera seemed to accept the idea, then looked back down at their daughter. “Muriel Rivvikyn,” she whispered with a grin. “Sounds perfect for her. . .” 

Muriel blinked open her eyes, cooing softly from her mother’s arms. Igor couldn’t help but cry with overwhelming happiness at this new blessing he’d received. “She has your eyes, love. . .” he whispered through tears, smiling at Faera.

“That she does. . . Hello Muriel,” whispered Faera. Muriel cooed once more, the faintest of grins on her chubby face. Her small hands reached up for her mother, blinking with the same colored gray eyes.

Faera’s smile widened as she spoke, “Welcome to the world, little one.”

[happytapirstudio]

November Book Log

From Last Month:

Chaucer’s People by Liza Picard (unfinished*)

The Chronicles of Ancient Darkness Book 5: Oath Breaker by Michelle Paver (reread)

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N. K. Jemisin (unfinished*)

New This Month:

The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel Book 6) by Michael Scott

The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser (unfinished*)

Kenny & the Dragon by Tony DiTerlizzi

Martin the Warrior by Brian Jacques (reread)

Safe Area Goražde: The War in Eastern Bosnia 1992-95 by Joe Sacco

*Saddest thing in the world...you can't renew library books indefinitely! And I am evidently a really slow reader. Possibly in part because I'm always reading five or more books at the same time.

Sorry to admit this, but I probably won't be re-checking any of these out, except maybe Spenser's classic English epic, since that's on my bucket list. I am so sorry Ms. Jemisin I just couldn't get into your book it was very well-written there just weren't enough talking animals :(((( Ms. Picard I'm only minimally sorry. Your book was pretty neat I just got bored about halfway through. I don't know enough about British politics and I don't care to learn.

I have to talk about Sacco's book for a minute. In Fall 2019 I took a comics-making class, and our prof (himself a published cartoonist) would bring in a bunch of comics every week for us to peruse for the first thirty minutes or so. He brought like the special-edition oversize copy of Goražde and the pages I read that evening have haunted me ever since. So I looked for it in every comic store I went to and finally found it a few months back.

There's a lot I want to talk about, but I don't think I'll ever be equipped to, even after I finish it. All I can say is, it's very good, and I strongly recommend it.

I think it's surreal for me to read in part because the whole conflict (Bosnian War) took place only a few years before I was born in '97. The culture I grew up in--the Disney renaissance, the early internet, dozens of bands and musicians I still listen to today (who I listen to with nostalgia but somehow don't consider "old"), 90s styles and technology, and numerous fundamental components of my very young childhood--was concurrent with the Bosnian War, a conflict marked by horrific acts of violence and destruction. A war that, for me at least, was only briefly mentioned in my world history class, crammed in along with other post-Cold War events in speedrun form at the end of the year. In other words, a war I grew up nearly oblivious to.

And the way Sacco writes and draws makes for an extremely immersive reading experience. Moreso for me personally than a book or even a film could be. (This is just how my brain's wired - to this day Maus has been the Holocaust story that's left the biggest impression on me, that felt the "most real", weird as that sounds.) In the case of Goražde, I think part of this sense of authenticity might be in the way Sacco draws buildings? And this one type of fence, in particular--tile or brick, I'm not sure. Like, I see it and it makes me think "oh my god this is a real place. These are real people, real lives." But "real place" also in the sense of "place I've been to", though I most certainly haven't. I don't know it's just tangible in a very peculiar way.

Well I've gone on too long already and said almost nothing of substance. I'll just close with the note that Mr. Sacco has written numerous books on occupied Palestine, and I intend to get my hands on them sooner rather than later.

[kalembasinpoland]

Day 3: Kraków

Another ‘early’ rise this morning. After coffee and Facebook, and while Rose was sleeping in, I took another walk to visit some churches. I first ventured over to St. Ann, where Jan Kąty (John Cantius) is buried. The church was closed for cleaning, but you could still see inside.

I then walked back to St. Peter and Paul to try and locate the new National Pantheon in the crypts. Penderecki is buried there. However, I could not find where the entrance was and no one was around to help. It is probably somewhere behind the main sanctuary.

Right next to that church is the tiny church of St. Andrew. This church building was built around 1200 and sheltered people during the Tatar invasion in 1241.

I then headed over to the Dominican church where St. Hyacinth is buried in a separate chapel. I found it unusual because the chapel is located up a flight of stairs overlooking the main transept.

Chapel of St. Hyacinth

Coming back to the apartment, I passed by the American consulate. There was a line forming of citizens each with stacks of papers in hand. I assume they were either applying for residency or work permits in the US. Who knows? The Poles still are attracted to the US. This came up at our conversation last night with Ula and her family. As a US citizen, I am attracted to many aspects of Polish and European life. Rose has expressed their distaste for things American. The grass is always greener, as they say.

I came back to the apartment and woke Rose up. We then headed out for a late breakfast at a rooftop cafe located at the Academy of Music building. We walked in and a jazz band was playing in the hall next to the entrance. We waited for the elevator to the 6th floor, because the 66 steps to our apartment are enough daily exercise.

A very leisurely breakfast on a cooler, but mostly sunny day. Rose and I chatted with Sebastian briefly. Afterwards we started an aimless stroll over to the west side of the old town. Eventually we went to see the quirky building designed by Teodor Talowski, who was described as the Polish ‘Gaudi’. Talowski was born in the same village as great-grandfather Wojciech Kalemba. I’m not sure if I would label his work with the Gaudi label. He did have a sense of humor in his design. His house was called ‘pod Pająkiem’ - under the spider.

He also designed the house of the singing frog.

From here it was a long enough walk back toward the old town that we grabbed the electric scooters and made our way down the Planty towards the river. I wanted to ride by the river and around Wawel towards the Skałka church. This Pauline church was founded on the traditional site where St. Stanisław was martyred in 1079.

The things you find in the Polish churches:

Not only the bear, but looking through a program of the latest Sunday Mass, I found that the choir sang a setting of Ubi Caritas by Jim Biery. Jim has published not only with GIA but with a number of other publishers. I just edited a new piece of his with GIA and have played a bunch of his organ music. I sent him a photo of the program.

We then grabbed new scooters a block away and headed back up the Planty towards the apartment. Time to rest our feet and work on this blog.

After a short break, I headed out to the Rynek again to try and find the entrance to the rooftop cafe of the cloth hall. After I overheard some Poles asking someone where it is and with my limited Polish and their hand gestures, I followed them up and sat in the sun and enjoyed the view-and a flat white and szarlotka.

More expensive than the coffee this morning, but I figured you are paying for the view. Worth it once.

Afterwards, I made my third attempt to find the crypt in St. Peter and Paul. Success this time. The crypt was open. The entrance is right in the middle of the main aisle in front of the altar. I descended and found the Penderecki’s sarcophagus.

I had the opportunity to hear him conduct the CSO about ten years ago. He was born in Dębica, not that far from where the Kalembas lived. Back to the apartment to consult Rose on what and where to eat.

We settled on pizza in courtyard with lots of greenery.

Then a short Planty walk and search for souvenirs in the cloth hall before returning to the apartment.

The evening stroll beckoned and decided to combine a scooter down to the river and a walk up to Wawel and back to the apartment. The setting sun illuminates the bricks and gold of Wawel.

Tomorrow we get the car and head to the Wieliczka salt mine.

Do zo

[tickletricky]

Tidal Waves

CHAPTER 2

A/N: Typically I write Sun and Moon as found, but not biological family because they’re pretty much completely the same build in the usual FNAF universe, just with different personalities. But since it’s impossible for them to be related in this AU, given they’re completely different species from completely different habitats, I uh. Decided to write some minor shipping. This is a part two to the original fic I wrote where Mermoon gets tickled by remora fish. 

Summary: Moon tries to tickle himself post remora-incident after swimming past seaweed and discovering that it too, tickled, but accidentally completely tangles himself. Sun, his friend visiting from a much warmer climate, decides to help him out. For a small price. 

Content: Lee!Mermoon, Ler!Mersun, Ler!Seaweed??? + My version of the FNAF Merfolk AU for Mer-May. More lore and more characterization. 

Trigger warnings: Thalassophobia havers be wary /gen Also, I’m editing this because there is, in fact, some minor family drama described that might be triggering. 

---------------------------------------0--------------0-------------------------------------

Moon would never admit it. He’s a shark of all things. He had never stayed with his family for too long, but they had always told him that sharkfolk are not meant to be openly kind — that was left up to the rays or whales. Or to use any sort of charm to get by; that was the trademark of the tropical merfolk in southern, warm waters that lived among the bright coral reefs and considered themselves rare and valuable, passing off glimpses of themselves to landwalkers and smugly watching them light up and scramble for cameras, lights, pens, anything to document what they had just seen. 

But he was born of hunters. There was a reason for the blood rumor, a reason for the widespread fear of feral sharks and sharkfolk alike. Once every so often, one of them will be peer-pressured into dragging a surfer or a scuba-diver down below to mutilate them and leave a message for the rest of both kinds alike.

And yet he had never felt a need to do this — perhaps because he was too young yet to be introduced into any of the typical social circles. Or perhaps because he was too different — ‘different’ folk were punished in the ocean. You must be made to fit in, or you must stay on your lonesome; hence why he had insisted to himself on moving to a separate part of the ocean away from his parents at such a vulnerable age. He could remember countless lectures, hunting trips, and confrontations about how he must fit in, all while he would rather have been sleeping the amber afternoon away on a warm current. 

Now here he was. Experimenting with a feeling that his parents would surely have lectured him for, back when he was a pup. The soft seaweed dangling upwards, it gave him likewise the same feeling as when the remora, — some of which were still attached to his back, — had nibbled at his scales once before. Hesitantly, he reached his hand into the weeds, feeling almost shameful for how silly this whole situation was, when the feeling sprouted again, buzzing in his palm as the plants clung to his scales and wriggled like worms in the current around them. He couldn’t help humming giggles behind his shut mouth, and with a fair amount of apprehension with the only thing goading him on being his unending curiosity and the joy the feeling struck within him, he pushed himself through the water into them. And happiness, accompanying a tingling, ticklish, patchy feeling emitted through his whole body. “MmmmHMMMHHMMHM! Ahehahahah! N-neheheh! Mmmhmhmf!” His squirming only made the sensations worse. They were only plants, but they tickled! All across his tail and torso, and his sides; a few even brushed along his neck and earned a couple squeaks, and one squeal.

But then he heard laughter that was not his own, and he whipped around to see what or who it was, tangling himself in the weeds. “Need some help there?”  “I’m fine, Sun,” he said, feeling defensive very suddenly. “Oh, okay, okay.” He flipped himself around to float more comfortably. “I mean, you did look like you were enjoying yourself.” He teased, earning a brief, shocked expression from the shark held back only by tangled weeds. “Wh- no- I mean…” Moon trailed off, before realizing that he was really, truly stuck in the verdure that he was sure would seal his fate if he did not ask for help.

“Fine, I’ll explain. Just get me outta here.” 

Sun giggled to himself, threading his nimble fingers between the tangled, taut flora and his friend, unwinding it with care and humming as he did so. Moon’s eyes met with his, only intended as a way to silently tell him to hurry up, as the squirming flora still tickled at his tail, and he was quite embarrassed about it. “No need to get so flustered, Moony. It’ll untangle when it feels like it, I’m just helping the process along.” His short talons grazed Moon as he slowly worked at the plants, tracing along the slick grain of his scales as he moved down to the next loop of seaweed knotted in with the fins along his forearm, rubbing his thumb along the back of Moon’s palm just after doing so. He was taking his time — Moon could see it clearly, and he gritted his fangs, refusing to make eye contact any further all because of his own embarrassment. 

Seafolk had always known the lives of landwalkers were much different than their own. To them, kindness was a virtue, not a weakness. Favors done for nothing in return facilitated friendships. 

But in the wild, it is well-known that favors must be exchanged for favors, or else there is no symbiosis — no true consideration for one another. 

And especially true was that one was not to socialize outside of their typical circles. A goldfish and a shark certainly fell into this category. Moon could remember the evening clearly when they had met, and ever since, he was unsure how he was meant to treat this new relationship. As a friend? As a rival, someone to compete with, but ultimately respect? As… 

No. Merfolk from the warmer climates were always known to be charmers. This too, was common knowledge, even in the deep and cold waters that Moon hailed from; although he could not figure out exactly what it was that Sun wanted from him. 

Pulling his tail out from the weeds forcefully to interrupt any thoughts the other might have about untangling his tail himself, he sighed, doing his best to pretend as though he were not affected by the charm, even if he very much was. “So?” “So- oh, right.” 

Sun’s eyes sparkled and he leaned his head on his hands, idly waving his tail as Moon began to explain, hardly able to stay there. “... I don’t really know what that feeling was? I, um... it felt nice, I guess. And I felt it again, when I swam past it-” Moon was cut off by a snicker. “You tangled yourself up on purpose, then?” “Don’t mock me,” he scowled, crossing his arms and holding them close to his body. “Did your parents never tickle you as a pup?” “... Tickle?” “Ohh, my.” 

Sun’s face contorted into a strange mix of amusement and concern, swimming closer which only led Moon to lean away, bringing even his tail closer to himself. “What are you doing?” “Making you laugh.” Sun smiled, placing his dull claws on Moon’s sides, below where his crossed arms blocked his skin off, and began to tap up and down. “MmmHMMF!” Moon curled in on himself like a shrimp, although it did nothing to protect him from Sun’s devious hands. “St-stohohop… I’m warning you, cut it o- oouuuhuhut!” “And if I don’t?” Queried Sun, wiggling his way past Moon’s defenses to tickle his soft belly. “AHEHE!” The shark suddenly squeaked out with ticklish delight. “Ooh, sensitive spot, huh? You’re so squishy and soft here on your belly. It’s pretty cute,” Sun mused, working in his other hand to knead just behind the edges where the white coloration ended. “ST-Staaahahahawp! I’ll- HEHEH! N-no, cut it ouhuhuhut, cut it out!” Moon managed to snap his jaws at Sun threateningly, and the other smiled all the same, playfully tutting at him. “Oh me, oh my. How rude.” 

Without a bit of care, Sun flipped his friend over onto his back in the water, causing him to go all but limp aside from his squirming tail and twitching fingers, and gently unfurled him, smoothing him out like a wrinkled sheet of paper before spidering his fingers down the length of his white tummy. “Tickle, tickle~ What a sensitive little shark you are, hm?” 

Sun’s teasing voice dripped like warm honey in the ocean currents; comforting and sweet, but embarrassing nonetheless. For Moon, being so vulnerable was one thing. For that vulnerability to be used for an affectionate attack of all things; it was new, it was fun, and it felt wonderful. Any bit of paranoia he had washed away and was replaced with a feeling of trust.

The goldfish’s claws swept up his chest to his neck, tickling the crook in the side of his nape with one of his hands and stirred helpless giggles that sounded so much more innocent than Moon had ever presented himself to be, while the other began to count his ribs from the bottom up. “Does this tickle, too? Oh, I bet it does~! Just look at you, smiling and laughing up a storm.” His fingers slowly came to a stop, and he leaned closer, taking in the look of Moon’s dorky smile, the sound of his leftover giggles escaping. 

“This is a much better look on you,” he whispered, partially wrapping his caudal fin along the side of the other’s tail, rubbing the phantom tingles away from his tummy. “You need to smile more often.” “Ehh-heh. Ehehe… Says you,” he retorted, still mostly breathless. “Touche,” admitted the brighter one, finally pulling away from his shark friend and righting him so he could properly. There was naught but the sound of the currents flowing around them, only interrupted a few long moments afterwards by Moon. “... So that’s what it’s meant to be?” He asked, a bit of vulnerability still showing in his voice, and Sun nodded. “Sorry you had to miss out on it all that time,” he apologized truly. “It really is quite pleasant.”

Moon let off a huff. “It’s fine. You know, I guess they’re right.” “Right about what?” “That you people are charmers.”