#I feel this question needs regional specifications?

[leefail]

This is just a mini info dump from an Arab batfamily fan because I find Damian calling his siblings Akhi... adorable (for me as a native speaker watching a writer use Arab words) and, not painful, just... itchy, it URGES me to make a pptx with 300 slides and just? Talk about Arabic?

So... أخي, Akhi, Brother.

It's not incorrect. The word is used in the right place and delivers its intended meaning. Other Arab speakers might not find a problem with it. They'd feel odd like I did but will likely go "eh" and carry on. But I'm an Arabic enthusiast, so...

Like with every language with geographically widespread users, the Arabic tongue kind of- deviated from its roots. The language has naturally branched out into so many dialects I myself can't keep track of.

Arabs from different regions can understand each other. They use the same words but for different purposes and with different pronunciations.

The original root language that holds them all (Quranic Arabic) was simplified into an easier, standard version that is used for formal speeches and as a communication bridge (seeing that you can't, say, translate something to Arabic and say it's for all Arabs if you use a certain dialect. Because an Arabic dialect is an identity at this point, tell me somebody is Syrian, and I know them already)

Now, with the fun part.

See, no Arab calls any sibling of theirs Akhi, I myself would burst laughing if mine did.

Yakhoi يَخوي (nonstandard, everyday Arabic for o, brother) , maybe, if I'm calling a stranger from the streets or an offender I'm going to give a piece of my mind.

Or, hold your breaths, my brother is crying, and the lights are out and I NEED to use the tenderest, most loving, most adoring, most revering tone I could muster so he just knows he is loved and family. Y'know? This specific situation.

And other Arabs might just say, no, I use it when, I use it when, I don't use it, etc.

The point is, nobody will mention Akhi. Because it's a Standard Arabic word, a formal word, and a word used in translated texts and stories when a foreign character we don't consider part of us call their brother. It's weird, it's devoid of emotions, and it's like watching a robot trying to be emotional, but it's a translated text. That's what translated texts use, and it's fine.

It is fine, Standard Arabic has been used for stories so much that nobody questions its influence on a character's characterisation.

I'm not saying Standard Arabic shouldn't be used for story writing, quite the opposite, in fact. I'm just saying that if Arabic is used to represent an Arab, its usage should also consider an everyday Arab experience and manners.

Now to Damian.

Akhi is robotic. Damian's personality does allow him to fall under that category. If for his well refined manners and polite, formal speech.

But even the King wouldn't call his brother Akhi.

He'd call him by his name. For my community (and most, I'm sure) siblings are called by their names, and if we look up historic Quranic (Root) Arabic speakers, they, too, call their siblings by their name. Yes, even the Sultan.

If not by actual name, then either endearing or demeaning names.

Arabs LOVE endearing names, but they're dipped in a pool of honey I don't think Damian would like to dive in.

Talia, on the other hand, would most certainly call Damian Mama. Arab parents call their kids by their own titles. It's the ultimate expression of parental love of all times, in my opinion.

(Don't make Batman call him Papa, though. Pretty sure Damian would malfunction)

-

Well, I said all that, but watching writers include Arabic words in his vocabulary is still sweet. Tt is not even a word, but it's such an Arab thing it's my favourite.

If only I could make subtitles of everyday Arab talk and show you, their speech is heavy with, excuse my English, word softeners, it's like they're talking in a TV drama and not the real world.

Watching Damian adopting it would be interesting :D

[fairuzfan]

hey what's an esim

Esims are digital Sim cards (as opposed to the physical Sim cards you put in your phone) that provide you regional network access. Buying esims for gaza and sudan, for example, will help people whose internet is restricted, or unavailable, connect to the regional network, thereby the internet and phone network. The esims are used specifically in Gaza because Israel consistently bombs the telecommunications areas so it acts as a substitute for regional specific communications networks like paltel (the Gaza specific communications company). People in Gaza use the esims in cases like if they're under rubble and still alive, and need people to get them out of the rubble so they call someone using the esim access. They're also used by journalists and other social media users to document instances of violence by Israel by using the electronic Sim card to gain access to internet. In other words, esims save lives and directly contribute to fighting disinformation.

I hope this answers your question. If not feel free to send in another ask.

If you'd like to learn more about esims and how to purchase them, please visit gazaesims.com

I believe there is something for sudan as well. There is currently a blackout there right now:

I don't know if there's currently a drive for Sudan as well, if someone finds something please add on to this post.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Forty Seven - Emotional Responses

Part Forty Six

———

MECHA Recruit Enlistment, is the initial rounds of testing and preparation pilots have to go through upon being selected or enrolled with the program. MECHA’s main headquarters is located not far from Macon, Georgia; in what is now registered as MECHA county. Population, unknown.

All prospective pilots are sent to specific MECHA testing centers for the initial written test or tests depending on the person's aptitude in initial testing. 

If the prospective pilots get half or more of the questions correct on the written exam, then they will move onto the next phase. If they get serenity-fiver percent correct they will be placed in the second written exam for non-striker class, if they pass with more than half correct they will move on to the next phase.

The next phase involves the transportation to Georgia, then physical compatibility testing.  If passed with a fifty percent or higher, the person will move onto pilot training and be given their piloting number. The number is based on the organization and the time in which you enter the organization.

Each prospective pilot will go through a full medical, dental, and psychiatric screening before being assigned to a group. Depending on the group changes the potential for class assignment down the line. 

On the first day after compatibility testing, the new pilots are measured and tested for their future implants, along with assistant suits. They are given a basic outfit to wear if one was not brought with them, which is more often than not the case. All pilots are vaccinated and are placed on a strict diet until surgery day.

Basic essentials are provided. 

From there they spend a majority of their time in simulators, classes, and in physical training to prepare them for life as a pilot. If they are able to handle all of these events after thirty days, then implants are installed.

Training continues for another three months before the new pilot is assigned a suit, a region, and a class. All are dependent on test scores, compatibility score, ability, and comprehension.  

Often compared to military regulations, the transition from military pilot to civilian pilots has been deemed easier than the transition from civilian to pilot. Less than five percent of military personal in the US transfer from military based programs to private ones, unless compatibility testing was ran by Doctor Shockwave.

At which point the number rapidly increases to eighty-seven percent. 

As of this moment he has been deemed the most comprehensive in compatibility testing in the United States, hired by government contract for their bi-annual testing.

MECHA rinses compatibility testing monthly. 

—

Blood was rushing in his ears and it felt like the conference room was closing in on them all, everything was too much, the tears were building up behind his visor and it wasn’t like he could reach up to wipe them away without everyone noticing. Damn these suits, damn having to pretend. 

Mirage’s grip on his hand and Prowl’s on his shoulder were the only things keeping him grounded for the moment. Whether from the blabbering of the scientists or the intense staring of Prime and Protector, Hound felt like he needed it. That court marshal feeling had yet to fade. 

The room wasn’t exactly quiet, the scientists were bickering to each other, though he supposed it was probably more so hypothesizing. That was worse, that made Hound’s skin crawl. Back in testing, back in the hands of those who wanted to tear him apart and rebuild him in their ideas. Fingers flexed in this holds on him.

His grip on Mirage’s hand stayed tight, clammy, tightening some even as their glances slid to him. The buzzing ringing in his ears as his throat tightened, anguish and fear, stinking fear he hadn’t felt in ages. Now, there were four people staring at him, through him.

Yeah, this was going to be a problem.

Shifting a bit, he clears his throat painfully, “I,” His voice almost faltered, “I apologize again, but I feel as if we’ve wandered off topic?” The scientists stopped mid sentence, glancing at each other before finally shifting their glances towards Megatron and Optimus. Hound sagged slightly in his seat, hand flexing slightly in Mirage’s grasp, his other fighting against his leg. 

The Prime and Protector were having a silent discussion, eyes flicking back and forth while discussing over comms. Mirage’s grip shifted slightly, drawing his attention away from the ever growing tension in the room. The look on Mirage’s face was soft and caring, even as his heart raced it beat hard at least once, “Hound, it’s alright.”

Slowly, the fuzzy electric sensation started to fade and he nodded a bit, though the choking sound from across the table had him whipping around, heart racing again. Hair sticking up against his helmet, the static feeling returning with a vengeance, gripping at his skin like sweat. It was awful, it hadn’t been noticeable at first and now it was all he could focus on. 

Optimus shifted in his seat, glancing towards Megatron again before nodding slowly, “I apologize Hound,” he clears his throat briefly, “We came here to discuss the future plan of action, not everything as we have been. Although we should discuss your concerns at another time,” Hound knew it wasn’t meant to be dismissive, but it certainly felt that way.

Sweeping his failure under the rug.

”Prowl, if you could examine the hard drive Hound retrieved? I think it could bring much needed light on the situation at hand.” Slowly, the hand moved from his shoulder to pick up the oversized hard drive with a frown, “Potentially, though it is rather odd in appearance and they don’t appear to have used the universal connection system.” Prowl’s voice didn’t waver, turning it over as he set down his tablet. 

Shifting a bit on his seat, Hound sits up, “If it’s any help, my pilots and I are ready to get back to work. Other than the needed paint work, we can be ready whenever we know the plan of action. I understand that Sideswipe is meant to be shipping back out to join Elita-One off world?” He tried to sound calm and not like the fear and panic were cutting him upside. 

Nodding some to her camera, Elita shifts some, “Yes, speaking of Sideswipe though, I fear that there will need to be a discussion. I understand that yesterday brought up events from your pasts, but it was a rather odd reaction from someone who throws themselves at battle.” Closing his eyes for a moment, Hound drags his free hand down his face.

He couldn’t feel it because of his helmet, damnit, sighing he nods slightly, “Sideswipe and Sunstreaker lost their parents in a building collapse, before they could live on their own.” There was no real way of phrasing it nicely. If the room got any more still, he swore he’d get up and leave, “It happens on Earth, there’s almost been more structure damage than deaths.” He looked around at them all, as they stared.

Clearing his throat slightly, “They are the youngest of us, of the pilots, so it was still fairly recent. But uh, they found something they were good at in the end, even if they're terribly young.” Elita clears her throat on comms, “Yes, how young exactly?” For a moment, he thought about lying, about covering for them, but they needed all the help they could get emotionally.

”Younger than I’d like to admit, they were still children when they became pilots. Unfortunately our system is flawed, especially because repairs are often not made while experiencing war.” Everyone was still staring at him and he squeezed desperately at Mirage’s hand, “But they're grown now, still need guidance but who doesn’t.” Elita’s hum was not reassuring.

Megatron was glaring daggers through the table as Optimus kept a hand on his arm, “I see, well, I believe that Elita-One and Ironhide are the best equipped to continue leading Sideswipe and Sunsteaker respectively.” Nodding, Hound tried not to sigh, fingers of his free hand digging into his knee.

He dreaded it falling into an awkward silence, glancing around the table, finally someone spoke up, “God, you all make these meetings entirely unbearable. We know that the pilot's government is as bad if not worse than functionalism, we know that they have been through hell and back, we can see that they are treated about as well as back alley share-ware. They can no more undo that than we can undo the damage Megatron did to my vocalizer.” He pauses for a breath.

“Every single one of the pilots jumps like they could take flight, the moment one of you mentions a scientist or medic within their vicinity. Knockout was meant to be at this meeting, which would have made it entirely more bearable, but instead he is repairing the damage done to his face by one of their severed arms!” 

In the moment, he wished it had stayed silent but at least now he could understand why Starscream’s voice was so grating though he did have a hard time imagining the Megatron he knew doing it personally. He could imagine it happening on Earth, to a pilot, something being label an accident that they all knew was an experiment turned punishment from Shockwave, but he couldn’t quite imagine Megatron doing that to anyone. 

The larger of the two scientists looked horrified, clutching at Starscream’s hand, “Star.” But another voice was taking over the room, “That is enough Starscream!” Megatron shot out of his chair, slamming his fist against the table.

With a pout, Starscream hummed, “Oh, I’m sorry, do you not want your new favorite to learn how you used to play with your toys?” Hound could swear he heard a record scratch, somewhere, “Starscream, I would suggest that you leave.” Optimus’s reasoning tone was not as calm as it usually was.

”Oh, but of course, My Prime. I live to serve.” And he stood even as Optimus shuddered, Megatron’s hand resting on his shoulder now, “We will be discussing this later Starscream.” Smiling sarcastically, Starscream bowed, “Lord Megatron.” Before turning and leaving the room.

Hound had just witnessed for the first time, some ruminants of their last war. More than anything in New Kaon, this was different. 

After a moment, the bigger of the two scientists cleared his throat lightly, “Uh, if I may,” He lightly gestures towards the door, “I think I should attend to my husband.” Optimus nodded, “Of course, Skyfire. Wheeljack will be able to inform you of what happens.” With a light scrap of his chair, Skyfire rose and turned to leave. 

Pausing next to Hound and offering a hand, “It’s been lovely to meet you.” Hound stared at it for a long moment before taking and shaking his hand, Skyfire almost winced and pulled his hand back quickly, “I’m sorry. I, nevermind.” And he turned again, leaving. The distant sound of something breaking coming through the door before it closed again. 

Megatron groaned, “Another one of his tantrums, how much do you think it will cost us this time? One hundred, three hundred?” Optimus lightly shook his head, “Megatron, is now the best time to discuss this?” Nodding slowly, Megatron finally sat back down, “I suppose not.” He cleared his throat, “I apologize for the air commander's outburst Hound. He often has issues in meetings such as this.” He honestly felt like he was intruding on something at this point.

Nodding awkwardly, Hound shifts, “Uh, it’s fine. I didn’t take offense. I can understand his anger towards us, after the events of yesterday.” Megatron’s face reminded him of his superiors in the past, trying not to put their heads through walls or tables. Prowl groaned, “Are you certain that you are back to full health Hound?” Now that was insulting.

With a scowl, Hound turned to him, “Yes, Prowl, I am fine as we have discussed multiple times. The focus is not me, it’s what happend, to put it simply. Iacon was attacked and we didn’t succeed in saving it on our own, there’s structure damage and people un-housed. Your society is still recovering from your last war and I’m ashamed I was not able to be more help.” Everyone groaned, “What?”

Ironhide shakes his head, “And I thought Sunstreaker was bad, every problem is your fault, for fucks sake. Apologize Prime, but this is ridiculous. Hound, it ain’t your fucking fault. I get it, we get it, being that first and last line of defense and having the world on your shoulders.” He throws his arms wide, knocking Elita’s screen over.

Hound honestly thought it was on purpose, Ironhide chuckled, “But be serious, your one mech. One of hundreds? Thousands? Your kind sent you to die,” “I know that.” His voice didn’t waver and he shrugs lightly, “I know. You can’t not know when they are selecting certain types of pilots. The ones who get in the way, the ones that fail, the ones that Shockwave has a person distaste for.” Another small gasp brought Hound’s glance towards Optimus.

Optimus looked like he’d seen a ghost, “That’s… A unique coincidence.” Megatron’s hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing it almost tightly, Hound could see it from across the table. Ironhide clears his throat, “As I was saying, they sent you to die Kid, that ain’t right and you’ve done more than our whole army has been able to in years.” The tension was building back up in the room.

As if Optimus hadn’t already been in a strange mood, this made it worse. 

A beeping took over the space, painfully loud and sent them all covering their ears, “God.” Hound ducked down, trying to not wince against the onslaught of sound, “Sorry! Sorry, that is the lab's explosion alarm! I really shouldn’t have left Brainstorm unattended, at least this long. Sorry Prime!” The other scientist, Wheeljack, stood and rushed from the room.

They all sat there blinking, Prowl dragging his hands down his face, “We have an explosion specific alarm now, wonderful. Needed, but excruciating.” Megatron chuckled, “Well, Brainstorm, Starscream, and Wheeljack work down there. Poor Skyfire needs some protection.” 

“Yes, well, I fear that there is not much point in contouring this meeting with our dwindling numbers.” Optimus’s voice shook lightly, “I think it would be best for Megatron and myself to have a private discussion with Hound, if you all do not mind?” His heart sank, finding Mirage’s hand again.

Optimus glanced over, “Prowl, if you and Soundwave could work on the hard drive in the mean time?” Nodding, Prowl’s hand returned to Hound’s shoulder, “Of course, my Prime.” Slowly, everyone got up, though Elita just disconnected while her screen remained on the floor. The only one who didn’t move was Mirage.

His eyes were cast down at the table, still holding onto Hound’s hand, “Mirage.” Optimus’s voice cut through the tension and Mirage squeezed his hand tightly before letting go and standing, “Of course, my Prime.” His voice was strained with emotion, turning and leaving stiffly. 

Soundwave moved towards the door but paused at Hound’s side, he glanced up at the mech who knew their secret, throat tightening briefly. His repaired comms bloomed to life as they stared at one another, “Skyfire, values organic life. Above, nearly all else. Recommendation, aligning yourself with him is beneficial. Long-term gain, expected.” Nodding slightly, he cleared throat, “Thank you.” Then like that, Soundwave moved from the room.

Then it was quiet again. Him, Prime, and Protector sat around a table now far too large for just the three of them. 

—

It was too early to be awake, far too early. Groaning, he just turned over and pulled the blanket back over his head. Their bedroom space wasn’t exactly the most glamorous of situations but it was better than the new pilots barracks at MECHA. 

That had been a nightmare and according to the ex-military was worse than some of the barracks they’d been shunted into. Which was not what Sideswipe wanted to hear.

Still far too early to be awake, he reaches out to hopefully get his brother up for water. Only for the cot to be empty. Closing his eyes tighter, he let out a long sigh, “I swear.” Tossing the blanket off, he swings his legs over the edge of the cot.

Their makeshift bedroom was on a side table near the window, with a ladder going up to it. It didn’t leave much privacy but at least it wasn’t claustrophobic. Their cots were pushed up against the ledge to the window, where it stayed tinted most of the time, but still gave them a nice view of the city at large. 

Jazz and Breakdown were still asleep, tucked up in their cots like nothing was happening. Although their bedding left much to be desired, at least they weren’t sleeping on the floor with rocks as pillows. Breakdown was still sleeping with his sleeping bag from the Odyssey, then Jazz was using a quilt from somewhere off-world that covered the distance between two cots. Sighing again, he slides down the ladder and starts out of the bedroom.

The door whooshes open and laughter filled the space, Sunny was up on Bluestreak’s shoulder and they were laughing. He couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough, shuffling off to the bathroom first before even attempting to deal with that. 

Slipping on his helmet, he fiddles with the microphone set up before leaving, resting his hands on his hips, “It’s too damn early for you to be up Sunny.” It was only then that Sunstreaker looked over, leaning against Bluestreak’s head like it was the most comfortable chair, “Morning Sides, and I couldn’t sleep. Are you doing okay?” His gloved hands help him back down Bluestreak’s arm. 

Shrugging weakly, he started towards the kitchen, “I’m fine.” Going around the corner, out of Blue’s sight made him relax a little, even as Sunny came into the room, “Hey,” Walking over, Sunny took his arm, “Talk to me.” Shaking his head a bit, he grabs up one of his water pouches.

”In all honesty, I want to go back to bed, Sonny.” The tone was always different, nickname to real name and the grip on his arm tightened slightly, “Simon,” Shaking his head again, he drank from the pouch, closing his eyes even as his brother pulled him into a hug.

Sunny hugs him close and tight, eyes closed, he could block out the world for a moment. The memories that were gripping at his mind like they belonged there, sticking worse than fly paper.

They clutched at each other, “I’m sorry Simon, I’m so sorry.” Tucking his face into his brother's shoulder, he cried, hard.

It was worse than experiencing a building collapse, he’d seen them happen on Earth, the old skyscrapers around his home. These things, they happened.

No, it was the fact that it was their bar, where they all would go to unwind and listen to their last actual connection to home. He could listen to his own music, but it was a playlist that he’d made, nothing like actual radio. Old school countdowns. The DJ talking about what was happening in the area and why at the moment it was important.

The human aspect was what he’d miss, now that it was gone. 

He was so tired, tired of losing and physically exhausted from the fight, he knew Hound was at a meeting in command, it was probably where Prowl was as well but for the moment. He let himself pretend that the next fight wouldn’t come right away, that he could grieve it all in peace.

His home, his parents, his planet.

Sunny’s hand still held on, as he too cried, they clutched at each other in the way they had only ever been with each other. Close enough to feel each other's heartbeat. Desperate to be closer at times, but this was them. 

—

He sat there, hands grasping at his knees anxiously while staring at Megatron and Optimus who had returned to their conversation over comms. Whatever this was about probably was not good and he could hardly sit still.

When had sitting still become so much of a problem? Let alone in his suit. He cleared his throat, “Uh, sirs, is there a reason you wanted to speak to me alone?” Megatron looked over and he tried not shifting again, “Of course Hound, though I feel it is more Optimus who wished to talk.” Joan wanting to talk was not exactly better.

”Of course.” He cleared his throat, “What about exactly, sir?” Optimus looked back up and his eyes had the erie glow to them again, “Hound, do you realize that I could see your EM field earlier?” Nodding slowly, he rubbed lightly over his implants, “Ah, that. That’s, that's new.” 

Clearing his throat a bit, he sighed, “It only started probably after my fight with the executioner. At least, that’s when I noticed it.” Humming, Megatron frowns slightly, “It doesn’t reach out very far.” Shrugging, Hound shook his head a bit, “I don’t know how it works exactly. It’s not like any pilots exactly do this.” Though he wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

There’d been a young pilot he could remember that was a comet, though they hadn’t ever really been stationed together. 

With another hum, Optimus sat up, “I’m sorry to have frightened you so today Hound, I understand yesterday was more than traumatic for most of you. Your EM field displayed discomfort and fear, for that I apologize, but I do wonder how it has come about now. When before there was nothing, when Jazz who has been here for so long still displays little to nothing.” Shaking his head slowly, Hound sighed, “I really don’t know. I wish I did so I could make it stop.”

Both mechs across from him winced, he tried not to, “For me, it feels like static running across my plating clonstaly, it's a buzzing sound in my ears, it feels like when lighting strikes too close or when power lines go down. Like there is too much electricity in the air.” Megatron seemed to relax some at that, though Optimus continued to stare.

The Prime cleared his throat, “I think those around you will only feel it when they touch your plating, at least given Mirage and Prowl’s reactions. I can merely see it because of the Matrix, Megatron because he can feel me seeing it.” He sighed slowly, “We will do what we can to make sure you are comfortable Hound, even if it means finding a way to get rid of this gift.” With a nod, Hound almost smiles.

”Thank you.” He sighed deeply, “Well, do we need to discuss what happened yesterday? Or will you accept my apology?” Megatron scowled, “We will discuss your success and the future, there is no need for an apology. Though now, we should focus on what we all need to do to prevent another event like yesterday and the new battle strategy.” He tapped the table and brought up a map of Cybertron’s system. 

Hound could see their relay satellite in orbit.

Sighing, he stands as they do, watching Cybertron spin. Watching the familiar ships move through space. The scale was immense.

———

A/N

So this chapter is a little shorter than normal. Around 3.8k instead of my typical 4, just because I felt like I got to the points I really wanted to make in it.

More to come, maybe, Tuesday?

My schedule right now is all kinds of fubared. Also thank you @daffodils-and-bonfires for your help as always with the MegOp portion. I swear, I can write them.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher 

And once again thank you to @Keferon for this amazing AU

[florencebirdsong]

More Than Duty

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Agatha All Along Week 2024 - Day 6

summary: you were given leave to choose your own bride until Agatha Harkness came along. Charmed and lured in by her promises of power, your King Father declared you were to be wed. Now, it's your wedding night and certain duties must be upheld.

Set in a world where one can get pregnant from a cum strap

tags: arranged marriage au, virgin reader, strap-on, breeding kink, fingering (r receiving), marking, pet names - princess & good girl, strap referred to as cock once, doggy style 

authors note: you're getting the largely unedited version for a little because if I have to read this one more time I'm going to despise it forever

Also don’t question the time I’m posting this I once again thought I only needed to write 100-200 more but it was actually OVER A THOUSAND. WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS. Ahem. Anyway, here’s day six which is almost three times as long as the others.

Reader is referred to as princess multiple times, mentioned royal wedding dress, specified looking for a bride, described as wearing a plain night shift.

ao3 | masterlist

“I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind, dear. But there’s no reason not to enjoy ourselves tonight.”

Your hands twist nervously in your simple shift. Your wedding dress had been elaborate. It needed more than one person to get you out of it. Which is not ideal for a wedding night.

You hadn’t had this in mind, exactly. You’d thought you had convinced your father to let you choose your own bride, as long as she met a few of his somewhat reasonable specifications. But then Lady Agatha Harkness had walked into his court. You don’t know whether it was her disarming charm, the power she holds, the boon to the kingdom the exchange would have or his own personal gain but he decided Lady Harkness would be the perfect match for you. He also decided you needed to get married the moment the decision was made. 

Thankfully, a royal wedding took months to prepare and you would have some time to get to know your future bride. Not that you had spent much time with her in the end. Only a few dinners here and there. She’s a busy woman, running her own region which she needed to organise another taking over. She can’t look after it and a whole kingdom, after all. Something she insisted despite your father’s good health. She also spent a lot of time with the court. Learning what her new duties will be and charming her way into their good graces.

It would be unnerving if you weren’t so relieved. One of the suitors your father had originally brought forward had no interest in what her royal duties would have been as Queen. Running a kingdom on your own would have been nothing short of hell.

So, small mercies. 

“Darling,” she says and you try not to startle.

She’s so much closer than before. She cautiously raises a hand to cup your cheek, like you’re a scared animal. You lean into it, eager to soak up any affection she gives you, and her thumb gently brushes over your skin.

“I know you’re nervous but we both have royal duties to attend to.”

You swallow harshly and look down. This is more than duty for you. You’re ashamed to admit you’ve been looking forward to this night. To having Agatha’s sole attention on you. You’ve dreamed about what could happen, what she’ll be like. 

You’ve only been told the very basics. That your wife will enter you with a specially designed device. That it may hurt for a moment but you will feel ‘a pleasure-like feeling’ afterwards. No one would explain exactly what that means. It makes you both more nervous and more excited. The only thing you know about the device is its shape and its intended use. Continuing the royal line.

“I know. It’s just,” you hesitate although Agatha has likely guessed already, “I’ve never done this before.”

“I’m aware,” she says and you flick your eyes up in time to see something flash in her eyes. “I promise to be gentle,” she says softly, a voice you haven’t heard from her before. You gently grasp the wrist of the hand cupping your cheek and nuzzle the hand. “The royal line must continue and it must be of your blood.”

You nod and leave the safety of her caress to cautiously lean closer. She waits for you to come to her and she waits for the first brush of your lips to move. She presses closer and her hands grab your waist and pull you against her. You make a surprised sound and cling to her shoulders for balance. Which you immediately lose as she begins to walk you backwards. The back of your knees hit the bed and she guides you to lay down in the middle of it. It’s hard to notice any of it with the feel of her lips against yours. The way her hands slide along your exposed skin as she leads you doesn’t help. She can’t keep her lips on you the entire time but you don’t mind so much until she pulls away properly. You chase her lips but she stops you with a hand dangerously low on your chest. 

Whatever look you’re giving her makes her eyes darken. One hand travels to the hem of your shift. You grab her wrist without thinking, anxiety rearing its head again. No one has seen you naked like this before. With the intention to- to touch. To feel.

“Let me see you,” she says, her voice firm.

You slowly relax your grip. This is your wife and someone who has shown how eager she is to see you undressed. She isn’t going to laugh or mock you. Your fingers slip from her wrist and she pulls your shift the rest of the way off.

It feels exposing in a way you haven’t felt before. You try to cover yourself instinctively but her hands grab your wrists and holds them down as she has her fill. You squirm but she doesn’t release you. Instead, she leans down and begins to suck deep, purple marks along the curve of your breast. It feels better than you were expecting it to (how can something feel so good when it isn’t down there?) but it doesn’t come close to the feeling of her lips wrapping around the stiff peak of your nipple. You gasp and arch into her. She flicks her tongue and your hand tangles in the thick curls of her hair. She does it again and a small whimper escapes you. You can feel her smile. She begins to trail kisses again and you think she’s going to repeat the same delicious thing until you realise she’s heading down instead of across.

“Wait,” you say, moving your hand to land on her shoulder. She lazily raises her head to look at you.

“Yes, princess?” she says in a tone you don’t have a name for.

It makes something spark between your legs and you determinedly ignore it to be able to speak.

“I want to see you too,” you try to speak as confidently as she did but there’s the tiniest waver to your voice.

She quirks an eyebrow before sitting up, taking her warmth with her. She pulls her own shift off and you think you understand her reaction. She’s beautiful. Your eyes devour every detail from her dark eyes to her pebbled nipples to-

Oh. You stare at it with wide eyes. It had looked so much smaller on the page. 

“Don’t worry, dear. Your body knows what to do.”

She leans back over you and the thing hanging between her thighs nudges your most sensitive spot. She muffles your whimper with a kiss. You cling to her. Excitement and anxiety swirling into a heady mix as she slowly, slowly begins to push inside of you.

“A-Agatha,” you say, your voice high and needy.

Agatha shushes you quietly and continues to slowly push inside of you. Your legs open wider instinctively. It doesn’t help with the stretching feeling. Nor the building tingling sensation. She continues to steadily push inside of you and the slight pain is overshadowed by the feel of her. Her hands tight on your hips, breath hot against your neck, her hips slowly getting closer and closer to yours.

“That’s it. Take it.”

You spread your legs wider, trying to do what she says. You don’t know why she felt the need to say it. You feel so full you can’t do anything but take it.

“Agatha,” you gasp as she bottoms out, nails digging in as you try to ground yourself.

She groans again and her next thrust is harsher than her last one. It forces a whining moan from you as it hits something inside of you that feels so good.

“Knew I had to have this sweet cunt the moment I saw you,” she grunts and settles into a slower, rougher pace. You can’t help the little noise you make every time she bottoms out. “When I found out about this little ritual of yours, I knew I had to fill this sweet cunt.”

Every word builds an unfamiliar fire inside of you. You don’t know what’s happening to you, what she’s doing to you,  but you can feel how big it’s going to be big. The feeling of your pleasure growing as it builds drowns out any worry you may have had. 

You wrap your legs around her waist and pull her tight against you, moaning at how full you feel. It forces Agatha to still.

“Princess,” she says warningly but you don’t care because that thread snaps inside of you.

Pure, unadulterated pleasure flows through you and you’re aware of nothing else.

You come back down to Agatha’s face hovering over yours, eyes devouring your every twitch.

“I- what?” you say, completely at a loss for words.

“You just came dear. And I just came in you,” the look on her face mirrors one of a cat that got the cream.

“You…” you stare up at her with wide eyes as you pulse at those words. “But you didn’t…?” you ask after a moment.

“No,” she confirms and your face drops. Her hand cups your cheek and you lean into the touch. “It’s the best time to do it to get the results we want.”

“R-Right,” you stutter and look away, somehow embarrassed by that while she’s still inside of you.

“But you can make it up to me,” she says and you nod eagerly, missing the darker edge to her pleased smile. She pulls out and you whimper at the sudden empty feeling. Her hands grip your hips again and you squeak as she manhandles you onto your stomach and then onto your knees. You automatically put your hands under you but a hand on the back of your head pushes your front back down. A pillow finds it way under your hips. This is a position you weren’t taught about.

Agatha’s hands run down your sides, over your hips, down your ass and stop at your thighs. Her thumbs gently hook around your inner lips and you whimper quietly at the feeling, especially since it feels like you’re dripping.

“You look so good full of my cum,” she says in a rough voice.

You feel that clenching feeling again and she chuckles lowly. Fingers brush your sensitive entrance and your hips jerk in surprise before needily pressing back against them. They start low and move up before gently pushing into you. Embarrassment flares through you when you realise that dripping feeling wasn’t just a feeling. She doesn’t comment though. Instead, she languidly pumps her fingers in and out of you, seeming content to enjoy the way you squeeze around her.

“Too bad I can’t feel this when filling you,” she sighs. You want to protest, you feel plenty full right now, but you know what she means. The idea of her pushing her strap back into you has you pressing back on her fingers again. “Probably a good thing. I’d never let you leave this bed.”

You whimper and try to open you legs wider, begging her to understand what you need. She must because she removes her fingers and a moment later the tip of her strap is dragging teasingly through your folds. You arch more, trying to get her inside of you again and unconsciously presenting for her. She groans and fills you with one thrust. She starts slow but hard, making you feel every inch of her. It doesn’t take you long to become a moaning mess again. Sinking into a hazy place you have’t been before. Filled with Agatha grunting above you, her cock filling you, her nails digging into your delicate skin. It’s all you could want.

Agatha gets louder, and slightly higher, and you realise the same thing that happened to you is happening to her. She’s coming. And you don’t get to watch her. 

A strange warmth fills you, one you didn’t notice last time. Agatha leans her forehead against the back of your neck, breathing heavy. 

“Good girl,” she says in such a deep voice that your toes curl.

You stay there for a long moment. Agatha buried deep inside of you, catching her breath as you try to even your own, fire still licking up your insides. It’s an awful sort of tease when she pulls out.

She removes the pillow and pushes you onto your side. Instead of getting up like you’re expecting, she curls around your back. Her fingers trail a light path down from your hip and your muscles jump at the feeling. They stop just above the sensitive button she’s so far neglected.

“Agatha? What’re you- “ you cut yourself off with a gasp as her finger begins to gently circle your clit.

“We have to make sure it sticks, don’t we?” she says.

You were so close to the edge before that it only takes a few firm circles and a swipe to fall over it again. It’s a lot gentler this time but it still has your body locking up in pleasure. Agatha leisurely strokes you through your high, her nose lightly nuzzling the back of your neck.

Her hand moves back to your hip and you bask in the warm afterglow.

Some time later, when both of your breathing has calmed and you’ve slipped into that soft space between awake and sleep, you decide that your mouth is dry enough to drag yourself out of bed for a drink. You don’t get far.

Agatha grabs you arm and rolls you onto your back. You give her a confused look as she climbs back on top of you.

“You are not leaving this bed until there’s no possible way I haven’t put a baby in you.”

Day 7: Royalty AU

[pokemonshelterstories]

Hi, Charlie. I have a question about pokemon ownership that's about both biology and law. I found an old coming-of-age show on Netfalinks about a kid going on a gym challenge journey through all the regions and attempting to catch every pokemon. The catching part was even part of the show's tagline, "gotta catch 'em all!"

Obviously, this 10-year-old could definitely not keep hundreds upon hundreds of different pokemon, each with their own hyper specific needs. But, I was wondering if anyone could do such a thing. Is there any sort of way that wealth, legality, and an understanding of nature could combine in a way that one person could have ownership of one of every pokemon? (I have a feeling the answer is no, but there might be some obscure laws I'm not thinking of.)

depends on how involved you think the person should have to be to count it as "ownership." there are plenty of situations where somebody might own a pokemon that they rarely interact with- certain battling/sport pokemon, for example, are trained/competed with by someone hired by the owner. there also aren't any laws giving a specific number of pokemon a person can own; instead laws target the welfare of pokemon, so as long as that is provided for, there aren't any issues with legality.

the limiting factor here, really, is time. you would have to keep a tremendous amount of staff to be able to tend to each pokemon's needs. between feeding, training, exercise, and enrichment, there's just not enough time for one person to handle anywhere near that amount of pokemon. some pokemon could have their care grouped together, but other pokemon would need almost exclusively one-on-one attention. you'd need several hundred staff to help pull this off. and at that point, you're technically their owner, but you're not really training them in any meaningful capacity.

that's not even getting into things like "who are you going to find to take care of a magcargo for you" and "i highly doubt you're going to catch rayquaza" lol

[pavdaily]

favorite things about pav? I'm also interested in knowing what your headcanons for him are!

Also, congrats for a whole year! 👏 🎉🥳

thanks. i like that almost nothing is known about him, since he is not the main character, so it leaves a lot of room to create your own story. i have a complete chronology of pav's life, since i have mental problems, i am crazy, etc.

first of all, this is not headcanon, since i borrowed it from a fact from the game canon, but i put a lot of emphasis on the fact that pav loves ice cream. the important thing is that he does not necessarily only love ice cream. in the regions of the former soviet union, there is a type of ice cream called "пламбір", which some historians believe comes from france. this has been disputed several times, but it is known that the word was borrowed from the french "plombières", and i still like this interpretation of the story, since it has thematic significance for pav. it's a half-baked idea, but since i assume the kaiser is from the french-speaking part of rondon, it symbolizes to me that even the things pav loves most are connected to the person who made his life miserable.

i also like to experiment with the concept that pav has good style. he doesn't necessarily wear expensive designer clothes (since he lived in the countryside, i guess he didn't have that kind of money), but he does have a good sense of fashion, you know? i also think he was a bit of a rebel when it came to style, but because of the political situation in his part of voroniya, he didn't have much opportunity to express that through his clothes. he doesn't express himself through flashy fashion, but by altering his regular clothes or dressing them differently. this sets a precedent for him to get used to wearing his uniform the wrong way. it is also worth noting that his story is about living with a political identity that does not represent him, whether in voroniya or in the bremen army, so i think rebelling quietly while wearing clothes that don't represent his personality reflect that. (i could go into more detail, but that would deserve another post and more time when i talk about it — for those who are new to my blog, i present pav with a national identity parallel to a real belarusian, and that is not even mentioning whether he comes from western or eastern region which have different political histories. i can say that the belarusian government does a very poor job of representing ordinary people, especially when it comes to bilateral relations with russia; and that pav has very little faith in the dominant government of his region and indirectly rebels against it.)

in a similar vein, i like that because he is somewhat flamboyant fans commonly sexualize him. i wonder if the people around him in the termina universe make similar assumptions about his sexuality. it makes him more interesting and funny because, in my opinion, pav does not feel sexual attraction or interest in sexual relations. i think it’s something that bothers him, or he’s just having sex to vent his frustrations about his lack of control over his life and his emotional problems in general. he justifies this with the idea (very common back in those days) that sexual desire is a necessary physical response for men, and that they need a woman to help alleviate that feeling. fortunately, this kind of thinking is going out of fashion with the new waves of feminism and the acceptance of asexual and aromantic people. that's why I think that while pav's lack of attraction and difficulty with intimacy are, in my opinion, related to his experiences, social conditioning and trauma, I can describe him as asexual or aromantic if i want. he doesn't fit that allosexual norm so he falls victim to heteronormativity, even though he engages in behaviors that reinforce it.

i have more headcanons here if you're interested. i have a lot more, but i need more specific questions to know what to talk about.

thanks for asking this question, i really enjoy talking about this guy.

[goldensunset]

there are several pokémon games now whose stories have absolutely microwaved my brain (positive). but black and white is really unique in that out of all of them, it feels the most like it had to have been a pokémon game. not even in the sense that it’s my absolute favorite but it’s probably the most creative when it comes to making a compelling plotline out of pokémon-specific game and story assets.

most games feature being a trainer, bonding with pokémon, learning about them and catching them, often times getting up to some insane stuff with the region’s legendaries, etc. pokémon are obviously always present- as characters, tools, or narrative devices- but the core conflict about the game is about something else. those staples of the series were only one possible means by which that sort of story could have been told. you could keep the core characters the same and change details like the method by which they fight each other and it’s the same thing.

in some games, these classic narrative/gameplay tools even sort of clash with and distract from the main conflict. battles that in any other story would be to the death are much like a fun little competition. that’s sort of just an innate thing to the game series’ turn based combat that is obviously based on pokémon, and most games are guilty of it. but there are ways to make it work in-universe, such as really emphasizing how any given pokémon is stronger than any given human and therefore whoever has even a single one of their soldiers left after the battle is holding a weapon against a defenseless target. in any case really it's generally up to the player to suspend their disbelief and allow themselves to get immersed in the aura of danger. but i would really love more games to make battles feel like a threat to the trainer as well… usually it's about trying to scare you off or maybe rob you, at most.

and my true pet peeve… in certain games, you awkwardly take turns between stopping the big bad and collecting gym badges and often even if there’s a story excuse for why you need to go get the badge or whatever, it’s kind of weak. you want to go after the evil team leader but first and foremost you want to become the champion and play with your cute little pets and these different desires rarely come up at the same time. the main antagonist might not even be the final boss; you’re expected to all but forget about them by the time you get to the pokémon league. the story is cool, yet not the point. ok yes this is me vagueing about dppt again listen platinum means the whole entire world to me but it hurt me to wrap up the cyrus plot at seven gym badges and get just a few lines of gratitude from cynthia for it later

but that aside. even in games where there’s no story-gameplay dissonance, where the story might be absolutely one hundred percent golden and the gameplay might be incredibly fun and work perfectly. you at the same time might be like 'wow, this is about pokémon? it didn’t even need to be.' (not to say that’s bad, obviously! people who are here to collect and play with cute creature friends deserve some insane banger plotlines too. the children yearn for existential angst and childhood trauma. i love unique storytelling devices and i hope these games have super cool utterly wild storylines that go way crazier than the child friendly marketing would indicate for the rest of the series.)

but like. black and white is so fascinating in that the core conflict is about being a trainer. it’s about the relationship between humans and pokémon. most games have a couple lines thrown in here and there about how anything is possible if you bond with your pokémon as equals, but this concept is central to black and white. team plasma are such good villains because they’re not another round of unhinged terrorists, they’re a sociopolitical advocacy group that legitimately challenges ways of life that most of the people of unova have never thought critically about. they ask the question of whether these norms and traditions are right and good. it’s like an attack on the whole entire series!

now obviously team plasma is like. wrong.., of course,,, both in terms of what they’re promoting and how they carry it out… but the fact that they make you think. the fact that they start a conversation. the fact that they hold assemblies in public and stand proud and don’t hide and even convince some people… that’s terrifying. their original plan was to rise to power not by force but by changing hearts. and through that they arguably got closer to winning than any other evil team.

and there is absolutely dissonance between the way they talk and the actual gameplay which requires you to pokémon battle them. but this dissonance is intentional. it's proving them to be a bunch of hypocrites who think that they alone know how to treat pokémon right and are therefore justified in training them. and it's meant to be obvious that behind the scenes (not even truly in secret, just like anywhere on any path outside of the big towns and cities) they are abusive bullies. but though the player can figure out what kind of people they really are right off the bat, most of unova might not. either news of the sorts of theft and threatening they do travels slowly, or certain people are being manipulated and swayed into believing it really was for the greater good. truly team plasma has a level of power that no other evil team has ever had.

then there's n.... n knows it feels wrong and hypocritical but he doesn't know any other way. or perhaps he also justifies it to himself by saying it's fine as long as he lets them go afterwards (which is, ironically, arguably even more like using them as tools for an intended purpose than properly being their trainer.) but after chargestone cave he commits to what he believes in and swears he won't battle again other than in the few cases it's absolutely necessary for his goal.

and of course. the way he's also trying to become the champion, the way interrupts your journey through the pokémon league, is so iconic. but he did tell you that quite early on. 'I need power... Power enough to make anyone agree with me.' and then 'I'll defeat the Champion and become unbeatable, unlike any other! I'll make all Trainers free their Pokémon! Just try and stop me! If you want to be together with Pokémon, your only hope is to collect the Badges from each area and head for the Pokémon League! Try and stop me there, if you dare! If your conviction is not strong enough, you will never be able to defeat me.' you see how neat that is? see how narratively awesome and efficient it is to give the player yet another, more serious reason to do the gym circuit? it's one of your personal dreams, like those of your friendly rivals. but now you have a not so friendly rival. not in the sense that he's some neighborhood jerk but in the sense that he's a madman running for public office.

but seriously, it's very important to me that they broke the tradition of the region's official champion being the final boss. they show you the league in all its glory as usual, and then make a big deal out of having team plasma show up and summon a whole entire castle that absolutely disrupts everything. they made it loud and clear that they knew what they were doing as far as breaking tradition. they said 'i know entering the hall of fame is very cool and important to you, and maybe you can do that later, but we have bigger problems right now.' alder is no idiot. he just got defeated! sure he could heal up with some revives and hyper potions but let's get real, he's in no mood to fight you, and it would be irresponsible for both of you to battle at a time like this.

like. now n has all the accolades he needs to set himself up as some sort of god king that no one would dare argue with, and basically the evil new york branch of peta just won the election by a landslide and took over all three branches of the government, and that's sort of a problem maybe. sure they aren't killing anyone or destroying the world (yet) but. they are a much more realistic type of threat. it wouldn't matter if alder was the coolest champion in the series (and i do like the guy as a character); i would not have been able to care even a tiny bit if we had battled him at that moment. and i would have been actively frustrated and let down if we had gotten to battle him after the epic climax of the plot and n's heartbreaking farewell. it was a very unique creative risk to save the championship for postgame, but it worked out so well.

but see like! when n does battle you it's not even because he actually wants to win. every single time, he wants to battle you because he wants to get to know you and to understand the strength (and accuracy) of your convictions. from the very first fight in accumula town to the grand showdown between the two of you. n never wanted victory. he wanted truth. he wanted righteousness. and slowly he learns that he wasn't the one who had either of those. his external journey was a facade for his inner one, which he can only bear to admit to you after everything has unfolded and he's finally safe and free from ghetsis and team plasma.

that's all to say, when it comes to him, pokémon battling is the only appropriate gameplay mechanic by which you ought to interact with him. unlike other antagonists he's not fighting to tell you to get lost, or to rob you, or to kill you, etc. he specifically needs to hear the voices of your pokémon in battle to realize you are a good and kind trainer and that he was lied to about battling. this specific conflict wouldn't work in another piece of media. of course, a more general theme of having been lied to about truth or justice could be done, but black and white specifically wants to talk about the ethics of pokémon training itself (to which there really isn't a real-world equivalent, since making animals fight is usually either rare and specific, or outright illegal. as far as i know. it’s definitely not a public sport that children are encouraged to participate in. and we don't have pokéballs so we can't verify irl how comfortable and fun it is to be digitized and put in a machine. it's probably fun for them but idk.) and that's so fascinating.

now of course, ghetsis is a more typical antagonist who actually wants you gone. dead, even. but for him, i think a pokémon battle as a final conflict still works. for one, they don't overuse it. in lots of cases, you battle evil team leaders or their admins multiple times- the majority of those times being an attempt simply to get you to stand down. when they finally 'get serious', sure the battle may be harder later on, but you're still doing the exact thing you were before. and like. you probably expected this, right?

ghetsis, however, doesn't even seem like a pokémon trainer at all until the very last second. it doesn't take you too long to figure out he's rancid and a manipulator, and that team plasma is trying to capture pokémon in order to have a monopoly over unova, but for all you know, he really might not use any pokémon himself. maybe only the king and the grunts do the whole battling thing but it's the sages' job to just walk around and say cryptic poetic things. and then. boom. he whips out a full killer team of six. he goes from 0 to 60 real fast. you've had zero experience with battling him thus far and therefore have absolutely no idea what he's packing and it's scary.

and of course, how could i not talk about his actual team? his infamous ace is a few levels too low to be a legitimate hydreigon, implying something fishy or forced. and in the sequel it's got frustration in its moveset, executed at maximum power- first of all, what kind of sicko even runs that move in the first place? unless you're like. working with buneary or otherwise doing something really specific. and what kind of sicko is so abusive to their pokémon that they lower its base friendship from 35 to 0? of course, that's a rather low base friendship value to begin with. but see, with this entire evolutionary line being vicious in its lore, you'd think it would be perfect for a guy like ghetsis, right? they're both brutal and also irrational- being geniuses, and yet knowing nothing but destruction. hydreigon is a killing machine and ghetsis flies into a genuine insane rage upon losing. point being you'd think they'd have fun together. we've seen villains legitimately bond with their pokémon before. but instead they're two toxic haters that don't mesh. ghetsis is so evil even his own partner hates him. and he delights in that and actively chooses to benefit from it via the use of a particular move. ugh i love when pokémon battles subtly say something about trainer npcs through gameplay mechanics...

also did i mention he's trying to Kill You. other villains are probably fine with doing that if necessary but scaring you off or taking away all your pokémon would also work. ghetsis implies that he specifically needs you dead because you know the ugly truth, and that knowledge makes that battle a lot more chilling than usual. that is a case of a true pokémon battle to the death. it doesn't feel cheap or like a relatively casual competition there, it's not a fight where either side is trying to prove anything, etc. and you can tell his bloodlust was genuine because he does not give up or admit defeat. he tries to murder the next protagonist too and goes to even more extreme measures that time.

ghetsis is using his pokémon as weapons against you because they're the most efficient way to murder you. that's all he wants. and you can tell he needs them because purely visually you can see he's gotta be kind of an old man with at least two physical disabilities, and he's not really dressed for physical activity- he's dressed like a big shot noble (or thinks he is. that fit is so ugly) who could never get his own hands dirty. and thematically it's perfect for the big bad leader of all hypocrites to use pokémon as tools, as opposed to any other type of weapon. like he could go get a gun or something if this was rated higher, but i think the sicko probably delights specifically in lording power over his tormented pokémon, if choosing to run frustration on hydreigon when there are probably better move options available means anything. i think he'd choose this means of battle in any universe he could.

in conclusion! the generation 5 games, more than any other games, absolutely needed to be pokémon games in order for the story to work. they closely examine fascinating aspects of the pokémon universe that are otherwise taken for granted. they seamlessly merge the goal of travelling and working to become the champion, and the goal of stopping the villains, instead of having these be awkwardly separate storylines. the gameplay is relevant to all three tiers of antagonist- grunts, main antagonist, and true mastermind villain- in different ways. i would love for another set of pokémon games to have such a focused, unified plotline that also feels relevant to the overall series. very swagful. something something mic drop

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Pt. 2)

Part 2 is here! :) Here you can read part 1.

Just a little angst before we get to the good stuff.

It’s been 10 days. 10 days of agony, of turmoil and regret and anger - so much anger. I’m the only third year left. I’m expected to carry on my co-section leader responsibilities as if the absence of Garrick is a minor inconvenience. The early sun rises with a flourish of pinks, reds and oranges and all I can do is relish in this fleeting moment of peace. 

No one seems to care or notice that they aren’t back yet. I can’t help but seek comfort from Rathnait, my only anchor since the moment we left Basgiath. A warmth of what I could only describe as security floods down the bond. 

We can’t worry about things that haven’t been confirmed yet, flare. She knows my true questions, the things that I can’t bring myself to ask or think about. You must think about today, where we will go. Graduation day. I would be assigned to my outpost today, and by this evening I would be gone, my journey at Bagaith over. Turning away from the river, I make my way towards the flight field. The few third years left of this school congregate, awaiting as Colonel Aetos and Commandant Pancheck begin the assignments. 

“Congrats on graduating, Section Leader. It is a shame that Wingleader Riorson and Section Leader Tavis aren’t here to accompany you.” Colonel Aetos nearly sneers at the mention of Xaden. The obvious disdain is unsettling as he rifles through different papers. “Ah yes, your assignment. Due to your signet and the savagery of your red swordtail - you’re being assigned to the eastern wing…specifically, Samara.” He grins at me, almost maniacally as if the post is a joke. Rathanit snarls in my mind, rage igniting the very blood in my veins but all I can do is take the papers from his hand, saluting in acknowledgement. 

Where are you, Ray? My hands tremble, crushing the papers beneath my hold as I make my way quickly towards my room. 

I’ll be there soon, flare. Unless you need me now? 

I halt in the middle of the empty hall, knowing in a matter of moments the rest of the cadets will be awake to get into formation. Pressing the heels of my hand into my eyes, I can’t help but rest my back against the cool stone. 

Samara is the front line. Trying to get the ever rising beat of my heart under control, I must not panic. I am a rider. 

Are you afraid, flare? I shudder at her question, not wanting to admit the fear, the panic. But I know that she can feel everything, hear all that I think. 

They aren’t here. He isn’t here. A whimper escapes my lips, the reality of it all just crashing down like rubble. I will be going to Samara, there is no avoiding it, there is no changing it. While I had spent years trying to survive Basgaith, I would be sent to one of the most active posts in the region. I wouldn’t see Garrick. 

“Section Leader? Ar-are you ok?” Dain Aetos stands before me, hands out as if approaching a scared animal. “We need to get to formation,” I don't hate the kid, knowing that following the straight and narrow path is the life that is meant for some people over others. However, that doesn’t mean I want him to see me having a mental breakdown. Giving him a small nod, I manage to get myself to stand before fully looking at the Squad Leader. Something’s wrong. My own senses are beginning to go haywire. My signet. Only Xaden and Garrick knew. Command and Bagaith are under a different impression as to what it is. The manipulation and detection of emotions however was a daily venture, there was no turning it off, there was only controlling it and questing it and right now Dain Aetos was a mess. 

“I would ask you the same thing, what’s wrong?” I question him, dusting off my flight leathers. I don’t miss the way he flinches at my question, his hesitancy. “Do I have to give an order to know?” 

Taking a deep breath, he stands tall despite the sorrow in his eyes, “Xaden and the rest of the squad he took with him are being declared dead at formation.” I startle myself at the immediate sob that escapes my lips. “Leadership has been looking and there is no sign of them.” Feeling the agony of his own loss, it feels as if a tidal wave has pulled me under. The roaring from Rathnait in my brain feels as if it will explode any second. Dain’s grief, his regret all barrel into me with no filter, no shield. Rathanit’s confusion and rage down the bond. My own sorrow, my own heartbreak. There is no stopping it. There just is feeling it. Unaware of the stream of tears that roll down my face, the taste of salt jolts me out of the shock, the horror. 

“Round up everyone, squad leader. I’ll be at formation in a moment,” I murmur, the assignment papers feeling like large weights in my hand. He turns away to head towards the Quadrant, “Dain,” I call out, sounding like a garbled mess. “Thank you for telling me.” His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods. 

My flare. I hear her call out, though to reach out seems like so much energy, all I can do is let her in with no barriers, allowing her to be there in the comfort of my mind. I’m coming, flare. 

Standing at the bottom of the stone dias. Everyone in formation, I don’t bother to look around. There is no one here to look for anymore. There is no Wingleader, there is no co-section leader - there is just me alone at the front. I didn’t bother to look at my squad, not being able to look at their questioning looks. I was known for being put together, not a hair out of place, no rumpled leathers, no dirt unless necessary. I’m sure the current state of me was a shock. Strands of hair fell in front of my face, eyes dry and cheeks raw from the tears. 

Captain Fitzgibbons overlooks formation, reading off the death roll. “Violet Sorrengail.” A moment of silence as all eyes look to the stoic face of General Sorrengail. “Garrick Tavis.” My heart feels as if it bleeds on the very floor I'm standing on, flinching harshly at the reading of his name. “And Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbon’s voice rings out echoing around the quadrant. “Well this is awkward,” a voice calls out. Gasps are heard around the quadrant, even command seems unsettled by what’s happening. My knees seem to be locked in place, unable to turn around and see what is going on. My breaths turn into small gasps of air - no no no it can’t be, I’m dreaming. Dain said. I need to wake up. Heavy footsteps approach behind me, and two individuals take up position on either side of me. A calloused hand brushes against my own.

[windblumewishes]

Hi, I don’t mean to come across as rude, more a genuine question. I’m very sorry if the wording is off here. But why are people so staunchly against posting the animations and stuff? I’ve just seen posts from other side too and I’m a bit stuck in the middle since I see their points.

I get there was a message saying not to, but it’s not a spoiling any content that hasn’t already been in the game for a long time and it’s not like twst is an indie game

Hello, Dearie!

While TWST isn’t an indie game that has heavy restrictions for players like not being able to post the story itself or even share game art it is still a game that has rules and regulations that the devs have set for the players to follow.

I understand why you would feel like this is strange as they have talked about overblots in the story many times but please understand that this is mainly something that they have never done before and is basically like an experiment of sorts with the fanbase. The reception has been astronomically positive for this update to the story and while the vast majority is respecting the developer’s wishes to keep this content off public platforms until a specified date it goes without saying that this experiment of sorts may very well determine whether or not we get more animation sequences in the story or events in the future.

If players actively break the rules and ignore warnings the developers will eventually notice and make the decision to cancel any future projects of animation sequences in the game’s future development. All because people thought it would be funny to ruin the experience for everyone.

This also serves as a chance for players to go and see the scenes themselves without the aid of others to scrape it from the story and distribute the content. If you want to experience the game yourself I will provide a detailed guide as to how:

iOS Devices:

For iOS devices you will need to do one of two things. You will need either a new Apple ID account specifically set for Japan or to switch your country/region inside the physical App Store itself.

Switch your existing Apple ID:

Open the Settings app on your iOS device.

Tap on your name, then tap "Media & Purchases".

Tap "View Account" and sign in if prompted.

Tap "Country/Region" and select Japan.

Review the terms and conditions and tap "Agree".

You'll need to enter a valid Japanese payment method and billing address, or select "None" if downloading free apps.

New Apple ID

Go to Apple and create new account.

Select “Japan” for country/region.

Enter your regular phone number for the required number. Does not matter if the phone number is for the US, any number works.

Enter in all necessary information and check to see if you missed anything for identification.

When it comes to enter your “address” simply make one up! Many of us use a hotel address and it works.

WRITE DOWN ALL LOG IN INFORMATION SO YOU NEVER FORGET IT!!

For Google Devices:

Go to QooApp and look for Twisted Wonderland, specifically JP TWST and play from there.

I genuinely hope you realize the fandom is not trying to be a bunch of gatekeepers and bullies saying “don’t post” because the devs asked us not to post. They never ask anything of us unless absolutely necessary, this is one of those extremely rare cases where the devs and Yana have stepped up to say no posting- that is HUGE. This isn’t a case of “well the story is nothing new, why can’t we share because it’s the same old thing?” it’s something big and the devs are giving you a chance to try it out by downloading and playing it through.

Also, even if you have to wait until August 1st it’s not the end of the world here, you can wait. If you had to wait to play the Diasomnia Chapter on EN you can wait for the animations. Truly, it’s not that difficult to follow the rules and do as the devs ask of us.

- Windblume

[dcdreamblog]

What happened to the green lantern embassy on earth? Will it ever open back up again now that there are 6 more earth lanterns? Why is earth so important for the corps anyway? I heard that there were only supposed to be one or two lanterns assigned to a "sector"(im not sure what that is) but counting the aliens that stayed here i think the amount of green lanterns on earth is closer to 20! Also whats up with the red, pink, and yellow lanterns that appear sometimes? I thought they were all villains but theres a pink lantern on the justice league right now.

So there's a lot to unpack there and a lot of it I'm not going to be able to fully explore in a single ask (especially about the other Lantern Corps I encourage people to send in separate asks if they want specific information) . But the "Green Lantern Embassy" that you're referring to wasn't an embassy and wasn't even technically run by the Green Lantern Corps as we understand it in full.

(The Green Lantern "Citadel" situated at one time in Southern California) The Green Lantern Citadel, as it was known, was a temporary refuge for about a half dozen members of the Green Lantern Corps who were for reasons that are somewhat opaque, stuck on Earth for an extended period. It served as a headquarters and housing for them especially for their alien members who didn't feel safe or comfortable openly living amongst humanity (which is a point we will come back to) Eventually the reason that those Lanterns were on Earth was exhausted and so the building was shuddered more or less. Part of the outlying buildings were used for a short time by the equally short lived superheroic neophytes the New Guardians but beyond that it's been closed for years. It wasn't demolished or anything but to disappoint you urban explorers in the SoCal region it was constructed from some kind of semi-permanent variation of the Green Lanterns' energy constructs and without whatever maintenance was required to hold it up it simply faded away at a certain point. (Though it DID leave a shitload of furniture and other items thumped in the middle of the forest for a time, the Lanterns came around and picked that up once they realized the litter they had left behind).

On the topic of Earth Lanterns, well, the reality is that we don't know that the number of Lanterns Earth has is unusual. We know some basics of how the Corps functions mostly via questions asked to the earthbound Lanterns. The Corps is an impossibly old organization of peacekeepers headquartered on the planet Oa at the center of the universe where beings from every Sector (some division given to universal space of an unknown size and shape) are chosen for their ability to overcome great fear and entrusted with the power of the Green Lantern Rings, able to generate any construct the user can imagine via an exertion of will.

That's pretty much it. We know they're lead by a council of immortal Guardians (little blue guys that have shown up on Earth once or twice). We get the gist of the idea that they're basically space cops. But as for the regulations of how many Lanterns there are in a given sector, that's just a guess on our part. If a sector is very large, containing multiple inhabited planets of Earth's population or higher it could by that it requires HUNDREDS of Lanterns whereas a sector that contains nothing but empty void and space dust might only require one or two. The Lantern Rings choose their bearers upon need and worthiness, if Earth needs a dozen Lanterns then I guess it needs a dozen Lanterns.

That ignorance is also part of why there is no "embassy" (aside from the fact that the Corps isn't a government, its a coalition of independent peacekeepers. There would be no need for "diplomacy" with the Corps). Simply put, Human beings don't seem especially READY for the intergalactic complications that we know are out there. By what many aliens on Earth have told us, societal forces like bigotry, war, class inequality or the necessity of the nation state show us...on the lower half of the proverbial tech tree. We've been forced under Lantern protection by events outside of our control, we've come under attack by alien forces and heroes from our world have become actors on the galactic stage but that doesn't change the fact that in order to go out and take our place among the stars we're gonna have to figure out faster than light travel and try not to nuke ourselves flat in the meantime.

[anukkuna]

Day 21: Cross-over

Spatort/Polizeiruf Świecko: Finding Adam Raczek

(Adam Raczek portrayed by Lucas Gregorowicz)

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I live and die on the hill of a Spatort / Polizeiruf 110 Crossover!

Some of you may have noticed a reappearing side character in Spatort fanworks: Vincent Ross from Polizeiruf 110 (like Tatort, it's a German crime TV-series with regional teams. When there were two Germanys (West and East, before 1990) it was roundabout the GDR's version of Tatort)).

(Vincent Ross, portrayed by André Kaczmarczyk)

For those of you unfamiliar with the origins of this crossover… well, I actually don’t know who came up with it either. But I can definitely see how and why the idea came about.

In Vincent’s debut episode, we learn that he’s just moved from Berlin to Słubice. Throughout the episode, there’s a recurring joke about him needing to return the moving van to Berlin, but the case keeps getting in the way. This move comes right after he’s completed his training to become a criminal investigator.

Sound familiar? Someone else also moved from Berlin to take up work as a criminal investigator...

Vincent is undeniably queer-coded, although he hasn’t had a formal coming-out moment in the series. That said, his character was introduced as the first genderfluid detective in the show. He often wears makeup, nail polish, and even a skirt in his debut episode.

Vincent has a Bachelor's degree in psychology and is a deeply empathetic character, presenting a sharp contrast to the station’s established detective, Adam Raczek.

Although Adam is initially skeptical and grumpy, Vincent approaches him with patience, eventually helping him open up. This dynamic was an intentional choice by the creators: Vincent was meant to act as a catalyst for Adam, helping him discover an emotional outlet - albeit, maybe, an overwhelming one - that forces Adam to confront some serious questions about himself. (Polizeiruf: Bi Panic)

And who else, if I may ask you, is a perpetually grumpy dumdum with an emotional valve firmly stuck, but somehow found the courage to return to his childhood best friend (and probable love interest) and his home?

I have to admit, for me, nothing sums it up as good as this amazing fan video by @zaubertrankkessel (which got me hooked on the cross-over in the first place):

The idea, naturally, is this: while living in Berlin, Vincent Ross and Adam Schürk clearly shared a flat. Vincent used his psychology expertise to help Adam process his feelings about his family and Leo, while Adam supported Vincent in his decision to pursue a career in law enforcement.

This brings me to my point: I need a Polizeiruf: Świecko / Spatort crossover.

But(!)

Specifically, I need a Finding-Adam-Raczek crossover!

You see, the first image in this post is actually the last shot we got of Adam Raczek in Polizeiruf 110. Adam has a lot of issues to deal with, especially his pill addiction (which even leads him to attack Vincent in their first episode together). His final episode ends with Vincent searching for him. He returns to Adam’s empty hotel room, where his pistol and badge have been left behind in a large envelope. Adam has taken off on his beloved motorbike, and from a remark made by one of his close coworkers in the next episode (Marian: "Where is Adam?!"), it seems no one knows where he went.

So, I want the Spatort-Team to help Vincent find Adam.

I want Vincent to discover a clue in an abandoned building.

I want Vincent to uncover more clues that tie into a criminal gang the Saarbrücken team dealt with a while ago - along with tire tracks that suspiciously resemble those from Adam’s motorbike.

I want Vincent to call Adam Schürk for help.

Maybe Adam goes rogue again, digging into the information Vincent shares with him.

But this time, Adam decides to tell the squad. Cue a crisis meeting where they revisit an old case - one their higher-ups would probably prefer to leave buried.

Of course, Vincent will eventually travel to Saarbrücken. When the team finally meets him, they’ll fall for him and his warm personality. Let’s face it - no one can truly resist Vincent.

However, Leo will also have to grapple with some feelings. Learning that Adam had a flatmate for years raises questions for him... Was there ever something more going on between them? And why, if Vincent is a psychologist and clearly someone Adam could confide in, did Adam never open up to him? Why didn’t he reach out to Leo? Why is all of this still so hard for him to this day?

It’s a painful realization for Leo.

But eventually, Leo understands that Vincent isn’t a threat. In fact, Vincent has his own unresolved feelings for someone he’s searching for - someone he cares about deeply. He misses Adam Raczek more than he should miss any colleague.

Rest assured, Pia and Esther had all of this figured out ages ago. In this case, they’ll have the rare opportunity to handle not just one, but two pairs of mutually pining idiots - assuming they find Adam Raczek, of course.

Which they will, of course.

There will be a stand-off. Running, shouting. Action and gun pointing.

But they will find Adam Raczek.

And Vincent and Adam will finally talk in the sunset. And return to Słubice together.

And that would be the crossover I want.

Look, I know, Vincent and Adam formally only had two episodes? But they had mad chemistry together. Like, Spatort-level-intensity, but different.

And they live rent free in my head ever since.

It's not just because of the chemistry between the two characters, by the way. It's also because of some comments made by the actors (especially Lucas Gregorowicz) who said on multiple occasions that he fell head over heels ("schockverliebt") for André Kaczmarczyk.

Affectionate... I guess.

Fun fact: Lucas Gregorowicz decided to leave Polizeiruf 110 before the showrunners had finalized his replacement. Neither he nor André anticipated how well they’d click. Apparently André even tried to convince him to stay at some point.

Lastly, the making-of for their first episode teased an intriguing observation: usually, "when you have a male and a female actor, people will automatically assume some kind of romantic tension between them. Why don't people assume the same when it's two male actors? That's the kind of potential the new constellation brings." (Lucas Gregorowicz, Making-Off Hildes Erbe (still schockverliebt, I guess)).

Anyway, fingers crossed for this becoming reality (if not on TV then on ao3, please someone give) and in the meantime - have fun with this post!

[bisnes-socks]

Dr. Professor I have a question. Maybe it has been talked about before and I had missed forgot it, is there any correlation between English articles and Finnish language? Ik Finnish doesn't have articles, but maybe there are context clues?

In other words, does Jere have any reason to keep saying "The Bojan"?

Anon, have you been spying on me? Can you read my mind? Because I have been thinking about The Bojan a lot lately. Mostly trying to figure out if he uses the article for literally anyone else, and I honestly cannot, of the top of my head, think of examples of him using The in front of anyone elses name as consistently as he does with Bojan.

So here's the thing. There basically isn't any correlation between Finnish and English articles, and so I cannot like point to a specific thing that would make him do that. But I can guess at the connections he makes.

I think sometimes he uses it to translate Finnish words like "toi", which is a spoken language/colloquial version of "tuo", literally translating to "that" in English. There isn't like a direct equivalent in English to use as an example of why we use "toi" like that, because like, "that Bojan" is not the same vibe as "toi Bojan".

Instances where i think this would make sense are moments like:

"Who did you connect with in Eurovision?"

"The Bojan."

If the conversation was in colloquial Finnish, it would not sound out of place of him to say something like "toi, tota, Bojan."

It's like a filler word, spoken out loud it can even be sort of drawn out (almost like just to make a sound, like "umm") but it's one that you would use when you can reasonably assume the listener knows the person you're talking about (at least in his regional dialect, i know some dialects might use it differently, but i speak the same dialect as him and this is my feeling on it.)

Which takes us to how articles in English are taught to us: the is to be used, instead of a or an, when we're already familiar with the subject. A cat is "a cat" only once in a story, before turning into "the cat".

So, i think he keeps saying The Bojan, because he simply assumes everyone knows who Bojan is. Bojan doesn't need an introduction or a qualification. Others get titles or explanations: "my sister wife Alessandra" or "my friend Joost", "manager Jesse" or "guitar man Jukka"... everyone else gets a title that explains who they are to him. Bojan doesn't need that, and Jere seems to have a reason to believe everyone knows who Bojan is. So he's not just any random Bojan. He is The Bojan, you know the one. And if you don't, you should.

[mtchacffinz]

racing into the night.

includes! chapters 4 & 5 (chapter 1 – 3 is here!)

tags! fem!reader x scaramouche, fatui!scaramouche, slowburn, tooth-rotting fluff, lighthearted, frenemies to lovers, kinda possessive scara in this chap

notes! "kaf why is this only two chapters!!" well, chapter 5 is 47k words long (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) forgive meeeee ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

Rarely does the Balladeer grasp the weight of his decisions.

The mellifluous melody of the streams accompany the stinging sensation in his head. His pale hands dips themselves in the water in serenity.

Nuisance, this is such a headache.

He refused to admit to himself; hes in it deep.

04. Trespassers, Transgressions.

Yet again a mundane day celebrated by the sky and the living. The Balladeer's eyes glint with a striking hue of indigo under the glaring sun, eyeing the specific delicacy laying before him. He (stole) got himself some tri-colored dango from the Inn's kitchen which surprisingly didn't take much effort. Not because he was hungry, no. It was merely due to a curious hunch he has for a while. Do they use the same water for their food? If so, does it retain the same regenerative effects on a body? His questions end on dead end when it occured to him that he has no 'body' to regenerate.. so his little experiment had to come to a pause.

Scaramouche's pondering was short-lived when a sudden noise emerged from the forest, reaching his ears. It seemed to grow louder and louder until he can make out of its screeching. Moments after, a familiar face emerge from his view to feast his sight on. (Y/n), with her disheveled locks flaying all over her face, was flushed and gasping for air. It's as if she ran a mile under a span of ten seconds.

Scaramouche was taken aback, but was slightly amused by her panting figure.

"You!" she managed to breathe out, chest still heaving heavily. "I finally found you! Quest- questions..! I mean— answers! I need answers!" The Balladeer only spared her a glance not caring less. A mess she was, yet in a span of a few minutes, managed to collect herself, clearing her throat.

"You are not registered within the Inn's reception. Not a guest nor an employee, and an official tourist or local of Wakumi Island." (Y/n) lay out briefly with a bemused expression. The purple haired man huffed as he crossed his arms. Ridiculous, you ran a background check? Foolish.

"State your name and your business. And most importantly, your explanation! What you're doing is highly illegal." she says with a clear voice with no sign of even a light stutter. She can't believe she'd be the first to witness a person of unknown origin by the peaceful borders of Wakumi!

Initially, our fair maidens' objective was to find out who this man was and send forth a gratitude gift— assuming he was a resident.

But to her surprise, no one of Wakumi Island found a man of Indigo optics with locks darker than a lilac familiar.

(Y/n) was feeling especially icky because of the new incidents that had been occuring down town, with thugs and frauds going out and about by the shore.

"Look, multiple suspicious individuals have set up around the Island not longer than a week ago, all of which contain various weapons and scrap machinery. They're importing spring goods to various regions, which loses its vitality the longer they are out of the vicinity of Wakumi."

His ears perk up, now turning his full attention to her. Wow. Now that's a surprise. He wonders what kind of idiots wandered into the border, getting the residents so worked up.

"Elaborate."

"These people have been vandalizing and stealing resources from local residents.."

"..And you're implying that I have something to do with them?" Scaramouche interjects, raising his eyebrow, almost offended. (Y/n) was about to retort but quickly had her lips pursed in a thin line. "You said it, not me. Didn't hear from me."

The Balladeer scoffs. The longer this silence drags out, the thicker the atmosphere gets.

But to be honest.. when Scaramouche started thinking about it, the more it started to make sense. He's starting to hypothesize that it could be Fatui. The official request he put up for surveying the area in hopes of making an alliance with Wakumi's land work utilizing its resources was issued not long ago; adding the fact that Fatui likes using force as a diplomatic tactic to the equation...

The Balladeers face turned grim— eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. He made it clear that the space was of great importance and wanted to handle everything civil for good measure. Idiots, a bunch of meat headed chunks thirsting for violence.

'No, that can't be..' he murmurs to himself, face slightly scrunched; displeased. He can't have those lot disrupt his future assets and investments.

Clearly irritated, the Balladeer released an exasperated huff. Scaramouche has no choice but to get to the bottom of this himself.

And the key is right in front of him.

"Woman."

"Huh?"

"Woman. Take me to the camp. Both of us, then we'll cross that bridge."

(Y/n) frowned. "I have a name. You can't just call me 'woman', that's the same as calling you Hat man."

"Let's go."

What— how rude! Is this really the guy who made his way out to save her from the brink of death? 'He looks like a self centered jerk that can't reach the level of kitchen counters to me!' she sneers. Despite her displeasure towards the Fatuu's attitude, (Y/n) led the way to various destinations.

Thump, thump, thump..

The walk was quiet and empty. Many words hung around the air, but the Balladeer seemed to find little importance in them. (Y/n), however, felt like she was walking on eggshells the moment he started spitting his thoughts.

Archons, this guy is chilly. Absolutely scary. She wants to sink into mud and never come near a 100km radius of this guy. Why does he act like everyone's a nuisance with the waste of air he breathes? Arrogant, so full himself.

Something about him seemed off, like how he doesn't flinch. His eyes doesn't seem to light up or show expression either aside from his usual sneer. It took a few attempts, but you finally raised enough to courage to try and start a conversation.

"..Would it kill for you to loosen up a bit? I know this is really concerning but you look constipated."

"Be grateful I'm forced to play nice with you in this vicinity." He says, irritated.

"You may not be one of those thugs but you sure are more than capable of.." You mumble as quietly as you can, but it didn't escape his ears. He says nothing but keeps his eyes ahead; the red eyeliner on his eyes emphasize how sharp his eyes were.. making it incredibly hard to keep gazes with him.

How strange. When (Y/N) last encountered the man near Granny Yori's house, he looked like a kind young man. Now his stature seemed more of a general, a warrior, ruthless and cold. More likely to have beheaded atleast 100 soldiers at war.

(Y/N)'s face turned pale.

Unconsciously, she reached out for her neck catching the Balladeers attention. He narrows his eyes at the pale maiden, as if she's seen a ghost.

He's not gonna ask why.

But a thought crosses his mind..

Maybe he shouldn't have kept tossing and throwing you around if your fragile body bruises easily. Scaramouche recalls that the anatomical composition of a female body is a lot fragile that an average adult male; most likely due to their size and overall mass.

He steals another glance.

Whatever.. Not like he cares.

Their patrolling comes to halt when an unfamiliar scenery greeted their sight. Hidden amongst turbulent flow of leaves, branches, and vines— a humble cabin settles by. The two gave each other puzzled gazes when the first thing they notice is the smoke emitting from the fire place, signifying that it was not long till there was company.

Scaramouche suddenly walks forward, approaching charcoal twigs. (Y/N) quickly interjected by telling him to be careful to which he didn't pay any attention to.

It was warm. Assuming from the scattered resources nearby, it's quite a rowdy crowd. Scaramouche didn't waste time by barging in the dusty cabin, kicking the door open.

"Hey! You'll alert them!" (Y/n) whisper-yelled.

"They can come charging in with pitchforks for all I care."

"You saw the other camps, right? There's atl least a bundle of them. What makes you so confident we'll win in a fist fight with a bunch of other people?" She retorted. He rolls his eyes. Scaramouche emits a mischievous chuckle turning back to her.

"What makes you think we'll fight? I'll be selling you off, duh. Limb by limb, 12 Million Mora per organ." (Y/N)'s face immediately turned pale, surprised.

The second worst thing after getting beheaded is to be profited off your body, apparently.

"No joking like that, please."

"I like it when you say Please. Do it often."

(Y/N) lets out a slightly disgusted and frustrated groan and storms off the cabin with a loud thud.

'So much for staying quiet, huh.' he deadpans. Whatever. Moving on. Keeping his musings to himself, he analyzes the area.

Bamboo baskets. Scraps. Food. Semi-rotten food. Rags. No sign of Fatui equipment. Scaramouche comes to a conclusion that the perpetrators are most likely thugs, treasure hoarders— considering the state and resources of the cabin. His eyes wander towards a sack that contains various booklets, a leathered cover catching his eye. He carefully grabs the notebook trailing his hands along the spine.

A journal?

He opens a random entry— silently reading.

XX-XX-XXXX It has been a month. We are starving. We managed to smuggle ourselves in a ship that was carrying supplies towards the Islands. Coincidentally, we ended up on Wakumi. Lucky men! My men are lucky. We are so lucky. I think I'm losing my mind, but i must hold on for my me—

Scaramouche turns to the latest page.

XX-XX-XXXX What the hell. We were shipped with these exploding papers. Juna told me it was fireworks, like what we usually see in Liyue Harbor. What the Hell. Juna was also smoking inside. We could've died. This is good, if someone interferes with our base, we can just blow it up.

(Y/N) was thinking.

(Y/N) was thinking hard.

She was thinking of her own hypothesis as to who and why would set up camps like this. The boxes were nothing but scraps of garbage and trinkets. That alone gave her an idea as to whom, but why? Why are they here?

Sun rays peek from the leaves among the blanket of greens, creating illusions of the sun. She can see that there are dust particles showing clear indications of motion and activity. In conclusion, the people who had been occupying the space left not too long ago.

The air suddenly turned different, and she heard a loud clunk! behind her.

Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when a sudden strike emerged from behind, aiming for her head. Fortunately, she was quick enough to turn her body around to evade, saving her very pretty head of flowers.

"Asus! You dumb prick! Now she knows!"

"Get her before she runs away!"

'Huh? What!?' The guy, 'Asus' prepared to swing again, this time much forceful than before. (Y/N) was in a frenzy; her feet quick to dally around the soil and dip around the waters. You don't know if it was because of the adrenaline but you were getting extremely lucky that you're not dead yet. The place was surrounded by a handful of fruff and lanky men, all with weapons— hollering different noises all at once. You couldn't make sense of either of them. (Y/n) attempted to yell and at least alert him—

Uh..

Oh no! She doesn't even know Hat man's name!

(Y/N)'s face loomed with pure despair; slapping herself mid chase. Damnit, (Y/n)! You forgot to ask his name! You accused a man of illegal loitering on the spot and ended up facing karma! Another screech emits from her throat when an axe came flying dangerously close to her arms, almost becoming permanently left handed.

(Y/n) ducks and exchanges hits with the perpetrators but there were far too many. Her hits were weak and uncalculated, but her speed outdid the men in rags. It was clear that they're exhausting her out and is willing to go for as long as you can. Although you were not a seasoned fighter, you were still taught how to swing.

She was taught how to swing, but not against 8 people! She's gonna die here!

And the inevitable happened, when our fair maiden got even the slightest bit distracted, a shovel slammed into her head— echoing a loud noise amongst the forest.

Both her yelp, the shovel and the gasps among the men echoed in unison.

And before she knew it, her eyes rolled to the back of her head; embraced by darkness.

"Did it..? Juna, you did it!" 'Asus's voice boomed after the lady falls with a thud. "Tie her up and wait for her to wake. Interrogate her as soon as possible. One step closer to our hometown!" He added. The group was festive, like they achieved successful heist. In the middle of their parade, a new face chimes in, joining in their shared joy.

"Incredible!" The unknown man sang cheerfully, the group quickly halted their celebration, turning towards the source. Their confusion was immediately replaced with a scowl, their gazes trailing over a man who leisurely sat atop on a pair of cargo baskets, smiling down upon them.

The slender figure gracefully hops down, offering slow applause.

"Incredible. A jacked mice took approximately 5 minutes trying to take down a helpless girl with his subordinates like cats and mouse. It was so lengthy, I finished writing two entries."

"Who the hell are you!?"

The Balladeers smile immediately dropped, and atmosphere went cold. Heavy tension brew amongst the thugs, as they all halted their activity, mouths let out a chorus of reluctance and choked up protest.

Scaramouche slowly made his way towards the slumped woman, picking her up gently— placing her on his shoulder.

"Hands off my prize, gentlemen. This one owes me an interrogation."

It's was as if the who place froze. His immense presence put a halt to their banters and frenzy. Scaramouche could see that they were weighing their options, so he pauses, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"You can fight a little bit. So what?" He murmurs seemingly to no one, huffing at her slumped figure. Eyes boring holes to each and every one of the group's heads, none of them even dared to move, nor have the courage to ask. This man emitted something far more dangerous than those of the shogunates' Hatamotos.

The man of Indigo, hair darker than lilac. One who supposedly sneaked into the Island as well, looked back at them with a side eye.

"Lot, be grateful."

Concentrated elemental power spasmed slowly, electro increasingly spasming all throughout the space. The Balladeer had smug look on his face.

"It'll be less excruciating—" one last flicker, and reaches into your pockets. With a tear of a talisman, everything was engulfed in white.

"—'cause you caught me in a good mood."

05. As If Nature Loves You

A pair of eyes follow her at once, some dreading, and others concerned.

(Y/n) tried her best to keep conversations standing, as the tension grew thick.

"And so.. uuh. I may or may not have hit my head with a shovel."

"...Archons above, girl."

"..I have hit my head with a Shovel." She replied meekly in shame, defeated.

The elder lady only stayed silent, observing her. She was hurt, hurting for her. It's as if she failed being a protector. Miss Aine's eyes softly gazed at her nervous form, releasing an exasperated sigh.

"Thank Archons you used the sigil, dear." Miss Aine, the current Head Manager sighed. (Y/n) could only avert her eyes as response. A familiar scent enters her nose. Looking around to inspect her surroundings, she blinks once or twice to take the sight in. The smell of varnish in wood, bitter yet herbal smell of green tea, and soft rays of sunlight hitting her hair was less noticeable. The gauze that gripped the crown of her head stood out the most out of all of them. It was the same room she resided in after once again, encountering the mysterious individual.

However, Y/n was confused.

She tore a sigil?

"Miss Aine, I-"

"Ta-ta-ta! Save it, young lady! You are not to engage in activities outside until you are in full recovery." Miss Aine commanded. "No going out alone. You seem to always attract trouble." The elderly pinched the bridge of her nose. Softly huffing, Manager Aine stood up. She signals the Doctor to come have a word with her outside- and they both disappear with a small thud.

A sigil?

She tore a Sigil of Wakumi?

This made her ponder. A Sigil of Wakumi is a divine equipment used in par with some sort of blinding Flash Bang- allowing to expose territory and cause diversions. The Sigil was originally used to protect the citizens- but it was only limited to personnel and of divine abilities..

Could The Balladeer have known this?

Her head is hurting.

"You seem to be lost in thought."

Y/n's ears perk up, turning towards the person beside her who was sitting quietly the whole time.

"Are you feeling well?" Yuuki's soothing voice entered her ears, allowing her to relax immediately. It was Yuuki, one of her long time friends she made with in the Inn. Yuuki gazed at her with concern, opening his mouth to follow up. "We got moving as soon as the signal was given. We found you laying on the ground." recounting calmly, his palm grazes (Y/n)'s gauze. "Those thugs of Liyue.. they smuggled through a ship and found themselves in Inazuma. The environment wasn't too ideal for them, so they wandered all throughout Wakumi to come sip our divine streams."

His expression was forlorn, almost pitiful; but all of it was wiped clean in a mere second- showcasing his gentle features and bright smile.

"You needn't worry, (Y/n). They are given due care and rehabilitation before proper punishment."

"Ahh.. Okay." Was all she could utter. Archons above, is it just her or every sound has been doubling in volume lately? Goodness, she might've caught a really bad hemorrhage with that damn shovel. Shaking off that iffy thought, she once again thinks to herself. So they found her braindead on the floor, with no signs of a floating lavender melon— or at least, a purple gentleman on sight?

That guy, so slimy; as sneaky as a fox!

Those icy blue eyes illuminated by moonlight, navy blue hair under the dark— purple by the morning sun, he wears a spur of raven hue clothing adorned with red embellishments. A stranger with an unpleasant demeanor yet puzzling behavior. Where was he when you were being tag teamed by a bunch of men twice your size? Surely, he couldn't be watching?

(Y/n)'s body stiffens, and slams it on tatami mat to release tension.

"I gotta make that guy pay." With a grim face, she mutters in newfound determination. She was kidding of course, there's a nagging sense of concern piling up on her chest, worried about the state of condition this stranger has been put in because of her actions. Just then, a low chuckle cut through her thoughts like wind. Yuuki questions her what was she talking about, but brushes it off.

"You should know, we have an important guest coming a week from now on." Yuuki crosses his arms, directing his gaze out the window. "We were told to prepare the finest garb and utilities to accommodate them. It makes you wonder if they're a diplomat." he finishes it off with a small grin.

"VIP? Sounds fancy. Guess I'll have to get better in three days to help!"

"You don't have to, you hit your head pretty hard."

"I think I make it obvious by how over the top my bandages are. I'll probably be all fixed up in a day or two!"

Yuuki doesn't mind your protest, only standing up to come and give you space. "Don't push yourself too much, work can wait. I'll see you later, (Y/n)." With that, he slides the door closed. Wow, total buzzkill. She lays her head gently, falling back into deep thought. Attempting to recount the past, her memory stops at the event of collision between her skull and shovel. Wincing, her calloused hands carefully caress the patchers of gauze wrapped on her temple; hair disheveled.

'I've been getting injured lately.. maybe it's just my luck.' She thinks sadly, frowning. 'Maybe I should stay inside for a while? It could be an omen.' A dead lady is nowhere near an adventurous lady. That is a lesson (Y/n)'s father taught her. That reminds her, it's been a while since you visited your parents. Working at an inn in the crisp years of 17 really keeps a score on time. Now that she has recently turned of age, her paycheck would definitely be more than enough to come and support the old man to retirement. (Y/n) grins cheekily— very pleased with herself. Not knowing that her thoughts divulged into multiple fragments of yesterday, she slowly drifted from consciousness; entering a dreamless slumber.

Two moons had passed before the illegal camps incident, and the grand estate of Tsubasa Inn was filled with busy bodies and hollering. The space has been filled with loud footsteps across tatami boards and wooden floorings— and a certain (h/c)-colored head was the most fastest and giddiest of them all. All the maids and worker gawk at her eagerness to take in all chores of others to make lighter work; half of them reluctantly accepting. Youngsters, filled with energy to the brim, always.

"(Y/n)! got a moment?"

"Alright Gene, I can't possibly— Coming!" You trudge away from your co-worker, who happens to be begging you to come switch stations. "We could switch tomorrow!"

Life in the inn is always a busy one. No matter the days, weekends and weekdays. It's such a staple in Inazuma, especially among the locals. It used to be a top tourist spot before the enactment of the Vision Hunt Decree coupled with the closing of borders from foreign lands. Despite the guards and occasional men in black clothing coming about, business has been surprisingly thriving no matter what political state the region has been.

She was handed a large rattan basket.

"Now, go forth Narukami Island and fetch the textiles. We've ordered a big batch this week, but it won't be very heavy so you'd guaranteed to be fine. Here's the receipt, do not lose it." Manager Aine strictly instructs, patting the order invoice to your chest.

You nod in understanding. Take the boat, traverse Narukami Island for the textiles, retrieve them, and come back home. Simple, right?

Okey dokey!

Except.. it wasn't simple. At all. It just wasn't possible.

Nokey dokey...?

After a while of retrieving the textiles, the clerk properly folded and arranged everything for (Y/n) to take back to the inn. A few moments into the journey back home, (Y/n) passed by Granny Yori.

"Oh, dear (Y/n), I haven't seen you a while." her soft, raspy voice called.

But you couldn't respond to her, not when a familiar figure stood right next to the soft lady— once again holding a cart. His faintly blue hued eyes narrowed at the sight of you, suddenly setting down the cart with a loud thump.

With an agape mouth and a tone similar from yours, you both exclaim:

"You again!?"

"Oh dear, you know each other?"

"No." Scaramouche quickly retorts, irritated— but makes sure his tone is still polite to Granny Yori.

"Yes!" the (e/c) eyed maiden asserts, both in unison. Scaramouche pinches the bridge of his nose, and turns back to the elderly woman in a polite tone, this time, strained.

"Well, granny. Seems like I have no business here anymore. I should take my leave." He dismissed himself, turning away before anyone else could say anything. Granny Yori could only softly smile as a response whilst (Y/n) scrambles to come and keep up with the Balladeer.

"Granny, can I leave these here? Thank you so much, a triple thousand! I just have to deal with something. I'll come back for them, I promise!" She says, hurriedly.

"No problem, dear."

The elderly shoots the maiden a smile. The (h/c)-colored lady leaves to chase after the mysterious stranger that has been haunting her this week. Scaramouche, who left in a hurry, was surprisingly walking at a leisure pace. Then, it was as if fate slowed down for them and was permitted a long awaited reunion. Slowing down—as if— the sun disappeared from their sights. The sky had been replaced with a shade of blue only reserved for the night, and the surroundings painted with luminous flora that glimmered like the stars. Scaramouche had walked far enough, and was done ignoring her calls. And so he stood, facing the maiden.

"Did you hit your head or something? You know, for following a stranger out in a forest like this." Scaramouche starts, taunting you.

"Please, we're barely strangers. You've seen me unconscious once or twice. And it's all because of—" before she could finish her sentence, her eyes trail towards a drumming creature. A small, plump racoon standing idly by her side; a leaf on its head. A bake-danuki, you presume. Whatever it's doing here, it's most certainly distracting you.

"—you..." (Y/n) trails off. She directs her attention back to the Balladeer, who had payed no mind to his surroundings at all; an austere look on his face.

"Look, since you're so keen on passing out and everything, and had you rely on me to deliver your body to that stuffy place— how about we just form an agreement?" the Fatuu says in a matter-of-fact tone, his slender figure stood with his arms crossed.

"Let my presence on the Island go, forget it all happened. You see me, you see nothing. I have business to attend to in these waters that doesn't concern you, woman." the way he speaks contrast his sharp and delicate features, those trenchant pale blue eyes staring straight at you.

"See how I'm doing you a favor here? Don't take this for granted."

Archons. Sound the alarm. No decent man speaks like that with such solemn look in their faces. (Y/n) carefully studies his image. She can't help but sneak in a few compliments or two. The hat he's wearing bears resemblance to a certain garb travelers wear that you forgot the name of, and those sleek red shadow on his icy eyes form the likeness of a mischievous fox— true to the stillness of his behavior.

"Be honest. Did you rescue me from those two incidents?" You has a hunch ever since your body regained consciousness. How could he, a stranger, bear witness to the events past, and lightly brush it off?

"Did you think I did that out of my own accord? Thank your Ōki Tori for that. It kept threatening me it'd electrocute and burn my insides if I dont step in. I would've left you dead long ago if it weren't for that stupid carcass." with a displeased tone, the prickly man directed his gaze elsewhere. He veils his words with enough malice to make you think he's got horrible personality, but enough humour to remind you of childish banter.

"That God forsaken curse about protection or whatever.." Scaramouche mutters under his breath. He reaches for his sleeve, pulling out a piece of fabric that looks all too familiar to you. It was like there was a ghost of an amused smile on his face once he caught wind of your bewildered expression.

With all the shenanigans he had to endure just to enjoy Wakumi's atmosphere, it was about time he had to get back at you for always getting him zapped or divinely burned. After all, you're outside it's perimeters.

No God can reach him here.

"Hold on.." you trail off. Those are..

The textiles!? One of them?

With an arrogant smile, he dangles the textile right in front of you, daring you to take it from his very hands. Scaramouche knows you're definitely a goody two shoes, and he knows just what to do to get under your skin without physically injuring you. The Balladeer never really thought he'd get this petty either, but he couldn't care less. After all, the patterns on this clothing reminds him of a certain someone, which makes everything all the more better.

"Hey, give it back."

"Over my dead body."

"I'm not messing around! That's important!"

"You'd have to grab it from my cold, dead hands."

(Y/n) takes a few steps to close the gap between them, but the devilish man takes two steps back, just a few hands out of reach. Is this his way of petty vengeance? Mere child's play? Since he can't get his revenge his own way, he'd rather inconvenience everyone to make himself feel better? The figure of the maiden tried again and again to snatch the most beautifully plated textile to no avail.

"Busy bee, What's wrong? I thought you were quick on your feet back there? Buzzing around and—" before Scaramouche could continue with his mockery, he was suddenly cut off by a pebble to his face. Shocked, his widened eyes met with (Y/n)'s (e/c) colored frustrated ones. She tosses another pebble in her palm with a strained expression.

"Did you just chuck a rock at me?" Scaramouche says in shock, gawking at the maiden. So much for being considerate, you're bold and fierce.

"It's nothing compared to being hit on the head with a shovel, but you wouldn't know that, don't you?" you attempt to taunt him, working him up. His purple hair moves with breeze of Chinju Forest, a scowl painted his face.

"I've had worse." Scaramouche closes the distance between the two of you, catching you off guard. He gracefully swept your feet off the ground, leaving you stumbling in the dirt with a yelp. Fuming, you pulled on his sleeves to gain advantage in tackling him to the ground with you. Surprisingly, he stays still as stone like an unmovable force. Embittered, you fling yourself to him as a last ditch effort. Finally grabbing ahold of the textile in his arms, your (e/c) eyes light up in triumph as a result.

"Give.." the (h/c) haired maiden tugs at the expensive fabric. "..it back!"

Poof! Smoke suddenly appeared before them, making the two stop in their wrestling.

(Y/n) holds onto an end of a medium sized log, with Scaramouche's fingers on the other end. The two halted their antics to stare at presumably expensive and most delicate textile Ritou has to offer— now reduced to a piece of fat, lumpy log.

Ah, screw this. You're dead meat now.

Both their attention turned to the joyful drumming of a certain tanuki in the forest, dancing as if to provoke the two of them into the deep. You make your frustrations known towards the tanuki, who started to flaunt the piece of fabric on the ground— dirtying it so.

"Aaahhhh Nooo!!! Stop! You're charred meat!!" the poor maiden exclaims in despair. The tanuki takes off into the distance, poofing offscreen somewhere— whilst (Y/n) scrambles to keep up with it in a frenzy. Manager Aine was not to be played with, and you would rather sweep the whole forest clean upside down just to find this troublesome tanuki.

You ran towards the direction it's guiding you by jumping and slapping its plumpy cheeks. To your surprise, Scaramouche ran past you, hell, even more faster than you! He moves like it's natural, an air of quiet imperturbability alluding his every movement.

"Got it."

He squishes the poor youkai into his palm like some sort of toy, but before he could continue— it vanishes into thin air accompanied by smoke. There was a small hint of surprise in his expression before it was wiped away with an obvious scoff. 'Right, of course, that's their thing.' Part of Scaramouche felt idiotic by thinking it was that simple, so he sighs and dusts himself off.

"You're on your own, moron."

You were taken aback by his sheer audacity. "Wh— But you started this, you toad!"

He huffs at the insult. A toad? Screw it, he's out of here. His hat— now remembering the term "Kasa", sways with the breeze; turning his back. Despite your fuming demeanor, you can't help but be entranced by how pleasing the way sheer fabric flows among the wind. The beautiful patterns of smoke and imagery further escalates the look of eloquence and sharpness— catching you entranced. It was enough to disperse that nagging fire in your head. (Y/n) huffs, dusting her (now dirtied) uniform.

(Y/n) trudges ahead first. With that, they go on their separate ways.

One step, two steps, three..

The mysterious air of Chinju forest has a charm like no other. The flowers that glow beckon you to come closer as the soft ground cushion your every step. It has been a few minutes of you going around looking for the youkai like crazy.

Four steps, five steps, six...

You can't brush off the thought like you're being watched, going in an endless loop of trees, weeds, and rocks. Slumping in defeat, you heaved a heavy sigh. You're lost, it's time to admit that now. Determined to get that piece of fabric back, the lost maiden racks her brain to come up with a solution to finally end this ridiculous situation. Rummaging through your pockets, you find three pieces of caramel bites, a sweet delicacy that keeps you energized all day and night. Staring at them blankly, your eyes light up for an idea.

(Y/n) crouches and places the three candies on the ground. For good measure, she backs up two steps away from her offerings. With a strained expression, she starts. "Oh, great and revered bake-danuki," Never forgetting your polite tone, you lower your head. You hear a noise from somewhere— akin to a snicker— but pay no mind to it. (Y/n) convinces herself that it's all in her head. Maybe her imagination is mocking her. Despite everything, she continues.

"Please accept my humble offerings in exchange for the treasure you've stolen from me."

(Y/n)'s call was met with silence, but after a few moments of awaiting a response, Poof! a cloud of smoke fills the air. There it is, that troublesome tanuki! However, it's boisterous personality was replaced with curiosity— peering attentively.

"Not so fast. One candy and you give me my fabric back, two candies is giving it back AND leading me to the exit. The last is a bonus if all is satisfied. What do you say?"

The charmed tanuki plays with its drums joyfully, tossing the fabric to you with glee. With a satisfied hum, it scurries over to get the three caramel candies and beckons you to follow it. With a thankful expression, you happily stood up to follow the plumpy racoon out into the forest with the same gleeful demeanor.

You see a path that leads to the familiar chirps of birds and the warm, captivating rays of the sun. (Y/n) turns back to look at the satisfied tanuki munching on your caramels, waving good bye. With a polite bow, you step out of the forest back onto the recognized clearing of Narukami Island. You lay the delicate and sullied fabric on your forearms as a sign of triumph, letting out a tired and exasperated sigh.

The suddenly, out of nowhere—

"Wow, you guys really must like overspending on textiles."

Dear Lord. You have not looked back so fast in your entire life. A spur of purple, scarlet, and charcoal black greet your eyes; his scarlet eyeshadow defines his scrunched expression scrutinizing a certain piece of paper. Scaramouche was standing right behind you, unperturbed by how shocked you are at the sight of his greatness.

"Hey! That's my invoice, why do you keep meddling with my stuff?" you say as you reach over for the receipt. Scaramouche catches your arm with ease, keeping you in place. His temperamental personality really puts you the edge with how sharp his words could cut, and with how fast his demeanor changes. Still, (Y/n) doesn't move away from his grasp but rather stiffen to keep it that way.

"Listen here." The Balladeers' eyes stare you down, meeting your stunned gaze. "I'm warning you. Quit following me everywhere like a dog and leave me be. If you witness something you shouldn't see, the rest is gonna be your problem." his grim expression spoke revelations, like that kind gentleman was a hazy dream from yesterday.

"If that happens, it's gonna be real messy and troublesome. Just do what you're told, alright? Glad we could reach an understanding." Scaramouche says with a menacing tone. His grip loosens on your wrist, and prepares to take off.

You're not about to let that happen. (Y/n) pulls the Balladeer closer to her, catching him off guard. With such force, they stand face to face. Scaramouche swore he almost stumbled, but later found out that it was her body catching itself upon his. He could feel how warm and calloused your hands were against his skin. Before he could react, the determined maiden spoke with a tone he'd never heard before.

"I don't care what you're here for, the same way you don't care for my well-being." He noticed that she smelled of cinnamon and herbs, with the hint of lavender and dirt; that pretty much sums up the kind of person she is. (Y/n) continues, tightening her grip on his arm. "If you think you don't deserve gratitude, then you at least deserve an apology. I'm sincerely sorry for troubling you within, and outside the borders of Wakumi." she says with contrite, frowning.

Ah, this wicked man can't focus at her words at all.

He almost formed a thought. A thought that nature seemed to love you. Like a radiant beam under the sun, he quickly kills that thought. Under the rays of warmth, (e/c) eyes glinted with soft mellow; you continue. "I won't bother you again, I promise. I just find it rude to ignore you after you've—"

The vagrant sudden chucks something at your face mid sentence with an unreadable expression on his face.

You let out a yelp, finding your vision hindered by some sort of fabric followed by a small click of his tongue. Alerted, you scurry to take the fabric off your face to give this brat a piece of your mind, but was cut off by his grumbling.

"Get lost already."

By the time you managed to unravel the fabric off your face, the nameless vagrant once again slipped under your nose.

All that was left under the ambient rays of light of the clearing was you, and your rattan basket of textiles.

Wait.

When did this get here?

[foldingfittedsheets]

So I am hoping to buy a new mattress soon and have been reading through your various bed things. Super helpful! If you were in my area I'd buy a bed from you! (You're probably not, even if I did learn we have the same renn faire from that link about it, y'know, burning down that somebody sent you.) I feel mostly prepared to find something comfortable except for one thing: do you have any advice (obviously, if you wanna; I know you don't get paid for this) for the problem of hips and shoulders not liking the same amount of squish? Like when I had a super squishy topper on my bed (4 inches, practically another mattress - and yes I know what you are thinking about comfort vs support) my hips LOVED that, and it actually did come up to cradle my ribs so that i didn't get that weird bend in the spine. But my shoulders and elbows HATED it. (I tend to stretch the bottom arm straight out in front of me, but when the shoulders sink into the mattress but the elbow doesn't, it causes this weird uncomfortable angle that really fucks up my elbow.) When that topper wore out I got a 2 inch one and it's a compromise: neither my shoulders nor my hips (nor my spine) love it but it doesn't cause pain most of the time.

So tl;dr how do I get a bed that both my shoulders and hips are pleased with? I mean obviously I'm gonna lay on them, but if you have any pointers or general tips for that I would appreciate that a lot!

It’s gonna come down to the firmness of the support. Some beds have stiffer coils and others have softer coils. Changing just the comfort layer isn’t always the answer and in your case it sounds like your support layer is too firm and not letting you sink at all. Feel your feelings when you go in, what you need is out there.

I don’t want to predispose you to specific ones without being there to check your spinal alignment but there are brands with gentler support that should do what you need. If after you go in you have questions feel free to message me about it.

Also my MIL lives in Minnesota and we go to that renn fair when we visit but I am in a different region, sorry.

[cosmicrescendo]

lots of things happened this episode. first order of business: puruth's correspondence:

So now Puruth's narration at the beginning of R01 feels *really* *really* intentional, same with him being the only one to mention the Strawberry King's disappearance. It seems he's actively investigating a certain legend regarding a tree and a song.....seems like this guy knows a little more than he lets on.

of course. if you follow my mad ranting, we already know where this tree is, and how it might be related to the concepts of Memory and SEEDs. The song part, to my knowledge, is entirely new infomation! How exciting! But it seems Puruth doesn't have all the pieces, making it diffcult......but you know who probably fucking does?

Will, of course. And most likely Ciel as well. A tree......a song.....and legends......allow me and my mind to run wild for a moment.

The only other legend we know of within the story is of course, the story of the original Red Bouquet, of knights who banded together and brought peace to the land. But surely, it can't be as simple as just joining hands and fighting together, perhaps? Like it can be, and I would be fine with that. Perhaps....there was a certain ritual to be done.....one that could only be done by people who truly get along, at a certain place, with a certain song. That's just me spitballing though, it's possible that these two legends are entirely unrelated.

But anyway! Assuming the person he's addressing isn't like, some NPC, let's try to narrow down who Puruth's pen pal might be!

Deconfirmations for pretty much the entirety of Red, firstly. Puruth wouldn't have a need to write a letter to someone he could pull away from the group and chat for a moment.

Unlikely: I kinda want to say the entirety of Blue. Kurode, for obvious reasons, cannot be it. Depsite cooperating with the alliance, the twins still very much keep to themselves, allying themselves with a random knight from a different continent seems bizzare and out-of-character. Myunna...doesn't have much of a grasp of what's going on. By virtue of already knowing where the tree is and tasked with keeping it secret, I don't think it's Will. And while I do believe Ciel's plans will eventually spread out to other regions and thus she needs to start making connections elsewhere, I don't think it's her...?

I want to point out something. Throughout the VD, it seems like cross-continent communication seems very limited. Escpeically in Red Continent, where it seems like "modern" means of transport and communications either are non-existent or at the least, very rare. From a narrative perspective, it's a way to make all the stories happen at the same time without like, overwhelming the viewer with redundant information with characters reacting to things that aren't necessarily immediately relevant to them. But......there's one very recent exception.

........Why would Pikero know this? Why is this intentionally the first instance of a character commenting on the ongoing plotline on a different continent in speific detail? From a guy who is currently researching mixing magic and song to combat SEEDs after all.

(Both are tls from KK, big love) It's also Pretty Pellicular that for the interview question series, most characters compared their ages to characters within their existing unit, people that they know, save for Tuxam and Pikero. For an direct underclassman of the "legendary generation", it seems natural that Tuxam would know who Merold is. But.......why does Pikero mention Puruth specifically, and not just end with "I'm a little younger than Tuxam?" Puruth also ended his travels a little after Pikero became a knight, maybe they met somewhere? It's all quite suspicious....

This theory is a little shaky, but I honestly think he could be the only person within the remaining cast that could fit the bill.

The alternative is of course, Puruth is somehow in direct contact with the Strawberry King, who has disappeared to invesigate this legend. But this doesn't make sense to me, as the figurehead above the Lords, I think he'd probably know where the tree resides.

[chainkeepustogetherr]

NSFW ALPHABET, JEFF BUCKLEY

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he is so beyond respectful, and so so so beyond cuddly + affectionate. instantly, he questions you askin' if youre doin' okay, if you need water, food, etc. if you require none of those things, he'll instantly cling himself to you, kissing every square inch he can reach while youre in his grasp. its usually quite silent for a few moments afterwards (due to you both relinquishing within each others embrace), him only muttering his love for you afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his hands are 10000% his favorite body part of his. he's aware of the sense in which his touch drives you absolutely crazy. the way his fingertips seductively graze within the line of your waist, trailing down towards your hips, the way the palms of his hands grab so delicately, yet passionately around the preface of both your tits & hips simultaneously. and.... guitarist fingers. they know what theyre doin'.

sexually speaking, his favourite body part of yours would be both your lips, and your hips. your lips due to both how good they feel wrapped around him, effortlessly taking him within the outskirts of your mouth, & the entanglement in which they feel dancing alongside his own. he loves the flesh alongside your hips, in which he often times mindlessly grabs at and fools with, which he knows sends you spiraling to say the least.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I feel like he ops to cum over your body as oppose to your face/mouth. he finds it more artistic that way. (thats a joke).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

oh lord does this man know what hes doin… he has the fingertips of an angel, the mouth of the devil & the rhythm of the ocean. he knows exactly what he’s doin, how to do it, what makes you shake & quiver, & what sends you over the edge. there is never a dull, nor boring moment with him, that is 100% certain.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

its definitely torn between missonary & cowgirl. he loooooves being able to look you directly in the eye as he slides in & out of you, often leaning down to kiss alongside your neck & collarbone region, muttering how good you feel, n how you’re doin so well for him. though, he does believe that theres nothing hotter than watching you aimlessly bounce up & down his cock

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s definitely not one to crack jokes while he’s literally inside of you, but he’s also not stone cold, sexy man persona, yk? theres a healthy balance in a sense

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i feel like he often just trims it shorter, not fully shaven, yk?

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

so so beyond romantic. he tends to your needs so beyond well, often kissing your skin & speaking soft encouraging words of praise, tellin’ you how much he loves you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

often times when you’re apart due to him bein’ on the road, he’ll often call you to engage in said activities alongside him. (a/n…. seperate one shot on this perhaps ?)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

100% a praise kink, both giving & receiving, though i feel like he isnt into the freakiest of freak, yk?

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

i feel like jeffs a heavy bath/shower sex enjoyer…. 1000%

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing your reactions to his touch, seeing the goosebumps & the way your legs instinctively open themselves up for him. hearing the way your breath hitches as he teases your skin.

he also loooves whenever you wear pretty dresses, or sometimes the way you specifically glance at him as if you’re a hungry doe of the sorts.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that could involve hurting you or putting you in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation. your sense of security, safety & wellness is a top priority to him. even if its just a lil bruise from gripping your hips too firmly, he feels horrible afterwards, often tending to the bruise & kissing it as a form of medicine as much as possible

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oh… this man is STARVING for you, there is nothing he loves more than tasting you,

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it certainly depends on the day, the mood, etc. some days, he ops for slow, sensual, passionate love makin', taking more time than usual softly working your body as a form of worship, while other days he can be almost animalistic. opting for the faster & rougher approach, showing you how bad he truly needs you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he’s more inclined to take the time preparing you n praisin’ your body how it needs, he doesn’t like rushing or cutting short any form of intimacy, explicitly sexual. though, often sometimes before shows he tends to indulge in a quick session of some sorts, always claiming it “helps him preform”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

not necessarily. he’s extremely careful & conscious of partaking in anything you potentially wouldn’t enjoy, so if often times he wants to take a risk of the sorts, he’ll ask you prior on your thoughts & feelings

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

some nights you spend hours unwinding each others bodies, working in secret languages & creating rhythms only the pair of you are familiar with, though on different occasions, you typically undergo 2-4 rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

jeff typically isnt one for using toys on both you or himself. he often prefers the touch of your hands, the contact of your mouth, or vice versa as opposed to plastic/a toy. though if you asked, he definitely wouldnt be opposed to it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he's 100000% the KING of teasin'. wether its simple smirks while youre out with others, sweet dirty nothings whispered into your ear in inconvenient times, slowly gracing his fingertips in attempt to make you beg, the list goes on & on.

A/N how we feelin' about a seperate one shot about this..

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he certainly does not hold back. often letting out sharp exhales, alongside breathy moans as he mutters endless praises of how good you feel, tellin' you how beautiful you look taking him, etc etc.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i feel like it’s relatively high. not in the sense of, he needs to fuck you anywhere at all times, but in the sense of he really really appreciates those more intimate, orgasm inducing moments with you, & often craves them on a day to day basis

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s definitely the last of the two to fall asleep. his main priority is always set on you, how you feel afterwards, & making sure you feel both properly loved & satisfied.