#I wanted to experiment with my usual palette for him and I found a happy medium between maximum and stampede I think

[longhands-the-second]

I’m scribbling him in again

[ghostflowerdreams]

Ghosts Films

It’s October! The month in which I watch even more horror movies than usual. Each year I tend to have a theme to help narrow down what to watch. So far I’ve done Zombie Films, Werewolf Films, Vampire Films and Slasher Films. This year’s theme will be the paranormal, specifically Ghosts.

The thing about me is that I’m not really phase by a lot of horror movies. They don’t scare me unless it’s a stupid jump scare which is more of a knee-jerk reaction of something unexpected. But the very few movies that have manage to get to me are those centered around hauntings. Even worst if they’re base on a true story.

I’m pretty excited to dive into this since I’m usually reluctant to watch them in the first place. I’m focusing only on films that I haven’t ever seen before, even if they’ll been out for years. This isn’t in any particular order either.

1408 (2007) -- is an American psychological horror film based on Stephen King's 1999 short story of the same name. It is directed by Mikael Håfström and stars John Cusack and Samuel L. Jackson. The film follows Mike Enslin, an author who investigates allegedly haunted houses and rents the titular room 1408 at a New York City hotel. Although skeptical of the paranormal, he is soon trapped in the room where he experiences bizarre events.

It's a simple, but an effective thriller and this horror is definitely more psychological than scary. I enjoyed it and thought it was a neat concept because it does something different than the usual ‘oh, look it’s a scary ghost’ that most horror movies do.

The Innkeepers (2011) -- is an American supernatural horror film written, directed and edited by Ti West. It stars Sara Paxton, Pat Healy, and Kelly McGillis. Its plot follows two employees at the Yankee Pedlar Inn who, during its last weekend of operations, attempt to document the alleged supernatural activity in the building.

It’s fine. I like the atmosphere, but it’s very slow paced and the horror is too low key for me to find it all that scary. It is nice to see a film that isn’t all about gore, special effects, and trying to scare you constantly, but it’s just not for me. Some people may like this. Just beware that there is a few loud-noise jump scares if you’re using headphones or earphones. I really hated it when the audio unexpectedly gets loud enough to cause physical discomfort.

The Canal (2014) -- is an Irish horror film that was directed and written by Ivan Kavanagh. The film stars Rupert Evans as a father investigating a horrific murder that took place in his home in the early 1900s.

It’s okay, nothing groundbreaking though. I liked the pacing and the atmosphere, but I found it very predictable. That’s because there's only so many directions that a horror film like this can go in. Is it an evil entity possession? Mental illness? Is it an actual monster or person behind it?

Even if It’s predictable, if the story is done well enough it should leave you with a sense of dread and goosebumps at not knowing for sure which is it. Unfortunely, this film didn’t invoke any dread, goosebumps or fear in me. It’s just an okay film.

Don’t Listen (2020) -- is also known as Voces is a Spanish supernatural horror film directed by Ángel Gómez Hernández. The movie follows a man who after the inexplicable death of his young son in their new home begins to experience ghostly phenomena, prompting him to seek the help of a paranormal expert.

Well, there’s two reasons I picked this movie. I want to expand my horror palette by watching more foreign movies. And I’m also trying to learn Spanish. I’m happy to report that I was able to understand half of it without relying too much on the English subtitles.

It’s good, but it didn’t scare me. I went into this expecting one thing and it turned out to be something else. That’s not a bad thing. I just don’t know whether to still include this in the list or not. I suppose me saying that is a hint in itself that’s not entire what you think it is..

Also, as a heads up because it caught me off guard. There’s several cats seen dead. You don’t see how it happens, just that they’re all hanging gruesomely from a tree around the 53 minute mark.

We Are Still Here (2015) -- is an American horror film written and directed by Ted Geoghegan and starring Andrew Sensenig and Barbara Crampton as grieving parents who find themselves the focus of an attack by vengeful spirits.

It’s great! The film didn’t waste any time and dive right into the spooks. It’s not scary for me, but it was still fun and entertaining to watch.

Housebound (2014) -- is a New Zealand horror comedy film written, edited, and directed by Gerard Johnstone. It is his feature film directorial debut. The film stars Morgana O'Reilly as a woman sentenced to house arrest in a potentially haunted house.

It’s great! It’s a perfect mixed of horror and comedy. I had fun watching it and would definitely recommend, especially when you want something that’s not so heavy on the horror.

The Devil's Backbone (2001) -- is also known as El Espinazo del Diablo is a Spanish gothic horror film directed by Guillermo del Toro, and written by del Toro, David Muñoz, and Antonio Trashorras. The film is set in Spain, 1939, during the final year of the Spanish Civil War.

After losing his father, 10-year-old Carlos arrives at the Santa Lucia School, which shelters orphans of the Republican militia and politicians, and is taken in by the steely headmistress, Carmen, and the kindly professor, Casares. Soon after his arrival, Carlos has a run-in with the violent caretaker, Jacinto. Gradually, Carlos uncovers the secrets of the school, including the youthful ghost that wanders the grounds.

It’s more sad than frightening. Sure, it’s advertise as a horror movie, but it’s actually a melodrama. There’s still ghost(s), but they’re not the main focus point. I’ve heard that this film is a spiritual companion piece to his Oscar-winning Pan's Labyrinth (2006) and I can see why. 

It shares similar themes and is also set against the backdrop of the Spanish Civil War, a brutal conflict that turned ordinary men into monsters. The Devil’s Backbone is great, but I prefer Pan’s Labyrinth a whole lot more because I feel like it goes to a another level.

The Cellar (2022) -- is an Irish-Belgian supernatural horror film written and directed by Brendan Muldowney and starring Elisha Cuthbert and Eoin Macken. It follows a family whose daughter disappears in the cellar of the large estate they have just moved into.

I enjoyed it! At first I thought it was going be a typical haunted house story with maybe a demonic possession thrown in. But no, it pleasantly surprised me by going in another direction and I wasn’t expecting it at all: cosmic horror.

When it hit that point, it got me so excited and I was like yiss. I wanna know more. Some of my excitement fizzed out when the other layer was revealed, but not enough to ruin the whole thing.

I’m surprised there aren’t more people talking about this movie. So I looked it up and I don’t know why the critics are being so harsh on it with their ratings and reviews. It’s not 2-stars or trash. I’ve seen terrible films and this isn’t it. It’s not perfect. There are some parts that could’ve have been trimmed down, removed or improved upon, but for being filmed during COVID, in which wearing mask, social distancing and quarantine was in full effect, it turned out pretty decent.

Give the film some slack. They made do with the situation, their low-budget and time constraints. Oh, I didn’t find it scary, but I still enjoyed it. It’s not everyday I get surprised with elements of cosmic horror in a film.

His House (2020) -- is an British horror thriller film written and directed by Remi Weekes from a story by Felicity Evans and Toby Venables. It stars Wunmi Mosaku, Sope Dirisu and Matt Smith. The film tells the story of a refugee couple from South Sudan, struggling to adjust to their new life in an English town that has an evil lurking beneath the surface.

It’s definitely not a 'scary' movie by any means, but it effectively uses elements of horror. I still very much enjoyed it! It’s a multi-layered horror film that’s not just about a haunted house. It takes you on an interesting journey about grief, guilt, immigrant experience and the on-going refugee crisis. It’s a really well-done film and with great performances from Mosaku and Dirisu. I would recommend!

The Haunting in Connecticut (2009) -- is an American supernatural horror film produced by Gold Circle Films and directed by Peter Cornwell. The film is alleged to be about Carmen Snedeker and her family, though Ray Garton, author of In a Dark Place: The Story of a True Haunting (1992), has publicly distanced himself from the accuracy of the events he depicted in the book.

The film's story follows the fictional Campbells as they move into a house (a former mortuary) to mitigate the strains of travel on their cancer-stricken son, Matt. The family soon becomes haunted by violent and traumatic events from supernatural forces occupying the house.

Eh, it’s okay. Throughout the entire movie I kept getting the sense that it was familiar. I was drawing a blank, but it wasn’t until halfway into movie that I remembered it.

This is the problem with including older movies onto my watch list and not keeping track of what I’ve seen already. If it's terrible, boring, or doesn’t bring something new to the genre. I will forget it.

Also, this is one of those movies where you have to constantly adjust the volume. I really hate it when the dialogue is super low, so you increase it only for the loud jump scare noise to nearly blast your ears out.

Note: What’s interesting is I went into this thinking I’m going to be scared, only to realize that none of these movies have managed to do so. I don’t know if it’s because I got a higher tolerance to spooky things now or if it’s because I’ve seen everything and it’s hard to be scared of something when you know what’s going to happen next (or can correctly predict it).

[kasienda]

Right Behind You - Ch 3: Akuma

Chapter 1: Scandal

Chapter 2: Friends

Chapter 3: Akuma

Chat Noir vaulted from one building to the next with the ease that came with almost a decade of practice. Even the explosions that tilted the ground with alarming frequency did nothing to throw off the hero’s balance or progression.

He landed in a crouch overlooking the akuma. The akuma was cemented into the ground with neon blue cannons on both arms, but able to pivot in every direction. Smaller turrets dotted the area in half a dozen concentric circles around the main villain.

It shot off a projectile that split off into six different pieces, each one flying towards a different building. Chat cringed as the missiles found their targets bringing down each building in what looked like controlled demolitions. Seismic waves crashed through the area seconds later.

Definitely not good. 

At least it was stationary. But it had enough firepower that getting close would be near impossible.

Maybe he should have dove in immediately, but he didn’t see any evidence of civilians, and he really wanted some backup because explosions sucked. Even if Miraculous Ladybug healed everything after the fact, fighting with broken ribs was not fun. Not remotely. And with the explosives coming at the end of heavy projectiles with homing capabilities, they would have to approach this one cautiously, and probably defensively. 

He groaned. He hated laying siege. It was going to take hours.

Carapace landed on the roof beside him. “How ya doing, Kit-Kat?” 

Chat Noir smiled in greeting, but his eyes remained laser focused on the akuma. “Honestly? I’ve had better days. You?”

“Same. I got almost no sleep last night. And the alert woke me from the absolute best nap I’ve had in weeks. Now, I’ve got a killer headache instead.”

The rooftop under them shook as a nearby building crashed to the ground in a heap of rubble.

“That is one nasty akuma,” Carapace said.

Chat Noir nodded in agreement as he opened up the extra-dimensional pocket in his baton and pulled out two little white pills. He held them out to his turtle-themed teammate. “I keep some extra strength Tylenol in my baton.”

Carapace’s face lit up as he took the offered medication. “Dude! I could kiss you!”

Chat smirked. “You’ll have to buy me dinner first.”

Carapace barked out a laugh. “I’m sure I could whip up a can of tuna for you, Kit-Kat.”

Chat shook his head playfully. “You’ll have to work harder to win my affections. I’ll have you know this cat has a very refined palette.”

Carapace laughed.

Chat Noir smiled. Maybe an hours-long siege wouldn’t be so bad. Definitely better than staying home alone in his oversized studio obsessing over every missed red flag from his “date” the day prior.

Maybe he should have gone on a date with Carapace instead. 

Keep reading on Ao3

“Shouldn’t we be fighting the akuma instead of standing around flirting?” 

Chat Noir and Carapace both turned around to see Rena Rouge standing behind them with her eyebrows raised in judgement. 

Chat just grinned, sweeping her into a sideways hug. “Rena! It’s been so long!”

“Missed you, too kitty. What’ve we got?” she asked, peering down over the edge of the roof.

“A demolition man?” Carapace observed, as another six buildings crumbled to the ground.

“Isn’t that a movie?” Chat asked. An old movie. Had Nino tried to get him to watch it? Nino loved any and all action flicks - new and old.

“Yup!” Rena confirmed. “My ex subjected me to it. Terrible movie.”

“Lies!” Carapace objected, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to her, Kit-Kat. Definitely worth your time.”

“I will never get those hours of my life back,” Rena said, drolly.

Chat Noir burst out laughing at the appalled expression on Carapace’s face.

“Guys! Let’s focus!” Ladybug’s voice interjected from behind them.

Chat started for a second, and then whirled towards her with a charming smile. “It’s good to see you, m’lady!”

She didn’t smile. “Not tonight, Chaton. Can we just get this over with?”

“Everything alright, boss lady?” Carapace asked, his lips curled downward into a slight frown.

She didn’t spare him a glance either. Instead, she watched the destruction below them without emotion. “I was having a good time with my friends for the first time in forever after an absolutely terrible week. And akumas…”

“Suck,” Carapace filled in.

“Exactly,” Ladybug agreed. “So, let’s get this over with and maybe the day can be salvaged. Chat, you go down the middle, Carapace go left of the building, and I’ll take the right. Rena, we need a ton of decoys. The goal is for all three of us to get there simultaneously and strike at once.”

Chat frowned, glancing away from the akuma and towards his partner. “Are you sure, m’lady? Wouldn’t it be better to huddle up, let Carapace cover us to get close?”

Carapace and Rena Rouge said nothing, both turned to Ladybug waiting for her response, but Ladybug’s face was still flat and impossible even for Chat Noir to read.

“If we split up,” he continued. “We’ll be more likely to get picked off. And the decoys will help, but they can’t replace an almost impenetrable shield against those missiles.”

“Playing this one defensively will take hours,” she said. “Let’s try the offensive strike first, and if it doesn’t work we can pivot quickly and we’ll be in a closer position to set up a shield.”

Adrien did not like it. She was asking him to gamble with their lives, with her life, to save time. Even Carapace and Rena exchanged a frown.

“Please,” Ladybug begged, taking a step forward, her blue eyes darting from one of them to the next, her face finally showing some emotion, and he did not like what he saw. “I really need to avoid an endless siege,” she whispered, her eyes suddenly glassy, threatening tears.

Her distress hit him like a punch to the gut. She clearly wasn’t okay, and hadn’t been for awhile. How had he failed to notice that she was far from okay? Because her tears now had nothing to do with the current akuma. This went deeper and he hadn’t noticed anything was wrong. How long had she been struggling while he ran in circles trying to keep his father happy in between grad school commitments?

He couldn’t remember the last time he had met up with her for a joint patrol or just took her out on a friend date, which had once been a regular thing between them.

He would have to make it up to her, and he could start with making this akuma go away as quickly as possible.

He nodded, and offered her a small smile. “Okay, m’lady. I know that if anyone can pull off a crazy plan, it’s you.”

She offered a watery smile in return and he felt his chest loosen for the first time since the akuma alert had sounded. The day wasn’t wasted if he could help her have a better one. 

“Thank you, Chaton,” she said. “I…” 

Her words were cut off as the building adjacent to them crashed to the ground in a crumbling free fall.

“Whatever we’re going to do, we should probably do it now,” Rena said. 

Ladybug’s soft vulnerable tears disappeared as she turned back to the akuma. Her usual game face - serious and sharp - took its place. And Chat couldn’t help the fond smile that bloomed across his face. Even when she was coming apart at the edges, she had so much strength. So much resilience.

“Rena, I want as many decoys as you can pull off,” Ladybug ordered. Rena nodded. “We’ll charge with a two second delay once the illusion is in place. Carapace, on the left, Chat in the middle, and I’ll take the right. Ready?”

“Aye aye, boss lady,” Carapace acknowledged with a salute.

The familiar sound of the flute rang through the air, and suddenly an army of countless Ladybugs, Carapaces, and Chat Noirs surrounded them protectively on all sides, just far enough apart that he didn’t really have to worry about touching them.

Chat launched himself off the rooftop towards the akuma. 

Missiles flew at the decoys, but the illusions dove sideways and away from the projectiles, most of them avoiding the collisions. The missiles were too fast though, and dozens of decoys clipped out of existence.

Chat Noir maintained his forward charge trying not to think about how unprotected he was. How unprotected his lady and Carapace were. 

The akuma was right in front of him - just a single vault away, when he stumbled - tripped over an errant piece of debris like a raw beginner who didn’t have nine years of experience under his belt. He took out half a dozen decoys himself as they ran straight through him.

He launched himself up from the cracked sidewalk immediately, but the damage was done. Carapace was stalled, fending off an unlucky aerial assault. Ladybug took the lead and reached the akuma first. But the villain fended her off easily with a backhand that sent her flying. Then fired off five missiles all tracking straight for Chat Noir who had just given away his position. 

He dodged around the first one easily enough. The second one, too. But the third cost him his balance, and he barely managed to swerve around the fourth. He ended up helpless on his knees, at the mercy of the fifth.

Every muscle locked, anticipating the blow, when Carapace slammed into him from the side, stealing his breath away. And they both ended sprawled across the unforgiving concrete. Before he could recover, the projectile hit the ground where he had been kneeling seconds prior.

The pavement launched upward, slamming him completely back to the ground. The sound was too loud to be heard, but he definitely felt it rip painfully through his body despite his protective transformation.

His ears - ringing with the aftershock - couldn’t hear anything else. But the protective green glow of Carapace’s shelter bloomed into existence around them, deflecting the worst of the next concussive wave over their heads. The ground remained unsteady beneath them though. 

Chat Noir allowed himself one deep breath before he kipped up to his feet and hauled Carapace to his, as his eyes rapidly took in the field on the other side of the green shield that was already cracking from a relentless assault.

“Please tell me this day is almost over,” Carapace growled out.

Most of the decoys had been decimated at this point - only a dozen or so remained, but Rena Rouge couldn’t create more without losing the current ones, which would reveal Ladybug’s position immediately.

Chat laughed. “I wish.”

He knew which one was actually Ladybug, though. It was in her single-minded focus. Every version of her was quick and graceful, able to pivot on the spot, and perform impossible dodges, but Ladybug always landed closer to her target than she started, determined as she was to end this battle. 

She truly was in rare form tonight. Her plan would likely have worked amazingly if he hadn’t screwed it up.

The akuma managed to take out another handful of decoys with his latest barrage of missiles. And then the akuma got lucky, and shot towards the real deal.

“Carapace-” 

She dove forward under the projectile, and then flipped back to her feet right in front of the akuma. 

“-drop the shield.” Chat Noir ordered, already running toward the barrier, not waiting for it to fall.

She snatched a keychain or a dog tag from the akuma’s neck, grinning in victory. She crushed it into pieces with her strengthened hands, but her grin dissolved when no butterfly emerged.

The green shield fell away. Chat put on a burst of speed.

The akuma swung his cannon arm and slammed it into Ladybug’s side. She was thrown sideways, and landed in a terrifyingly still puddle of red and black. 

The akuma pointed his rocket launcher towards her.

Chat Noir threw himself forward just as the akuma shot off the missile.

He took the blast square in the back. His suit no doubt offered some protection but this akuma had the power to bring down solid steel super frames. 

Chat Noir’s skeletal structure didn’t stand a chance.

Pressure exploded across his spine. The blinding pain came an instant later. It felt like he was being burned alive both inside and out.

He didn’t break his fall, his arms dangling lifeless at his sides. He landed face first, his chin striking the crumbling pavement sending a second wave of agony through his form.

He couldn’t breathe, let alone scream.

Was this what dying felt like? 

It had never hurt this bad before.

…

Carapace was still processing what Chat said when he took off like a bullet. Straight for the shield. Carapace frantically dissolved the barrier before his teammate could crash into it. Carapace shot after him, only a few paces behind, but he already knew it wasn’t enough.

His heart jumped up to his throat and time slowed to nothing as he watched Chat Noir take the hit meant for Ladybug, and crash to the ground, both his magical suit and skin torn to shreds, exposing raw bleeding tissue on his back and legs. 

Carapace threw himself into a roll to put himself between the akuma and his fallen companion, and landed sprawled against the black cat’s unmoving form, screaming for his shelter once again.

The shield went up not a second too soon, immediately taking hit after hit. The sound of cracking glass echoed overhead reminding him that the shield would only hold for so long against the maelstrom.

He glanced back, hoping he had managed to envelop Ladybug in the protective barrier as well. No such luck. She was just on the other side of the glowing green bubble. At least it was between her and the akuma. They made eye contact, and she jerked her head towards Chat. 

She wanted him to take care of her partner - not dive back into the battle. 

He nodded acknowledgement. 

A second later, she launched herself off the ground and took cover in the growing piles of rubble. 

His attention turned to Chat Noir who wasn’t moving. 

“Talk to me, Kit Kat!” Carapace shook his shoulder, but there was nothing, not so much as a groan. 

Up close, Chat looked even worse - like he had been chewed up and swallowed by a dinosaur, only to be spit back out. Carapace could only imagine how much pain he was in. Carapace had been knocked around more than his fair share in this line of work, but he’d never taken a hit that vaporized the suit away! 

He carefully rolled Chat to his side and then to his back, trying not to touch his injuries, which was almost impossible as they covered more than a third of his body. He was completely limp. Carapace leaned his cheek to Chat’s mouth, feeling for any signs of breathing. 

There wasn’t any. 

Carapace sucked in his own breath, his throat threatening to squeeze shut, and dread twisted his gut like a coiled snake. 

Carapace had seen Chat Noir put under mind control, transformed into various inanimate objects, erased or vaporized from existence. But he had never before had to confront a lifeless body. 

But surely the ladybugs could bring him back, right?

Another volley of missiles struck the outside of his barrier, the ground underneath them tilting sideways. The shield was holding. 

The sound of static buzzing filled the air and Chat’s transformation dropped.

Carapace was completely unprepared. They were adults. They hadn’t timed out in ages. And he jerked his gaze away, but unfortunately, Carapace could recognize his own best friend from just his clothes and shoes.

Especially when he had his face pressed to that shirt not thirty minutes prior.

His gaze whipped back up to the painfully familiar face, now marred with gashes and a rapidly forming bruise on his chiseled chin. 

“Opaque!” Carapace yelled. The translucent barrier turned a dark and solid green, though the cracks and fissures remained. He wouldn’t be able to see the battle, but that was better than losing Chat’s identity to all of Paris. 

Adrien’s identity.

The same Adrien who befriended him in collège when he had fallen into almost total isolation after his older brother had disappeared, the Adrien who had coaxed him through his first gig, the Adrien who had nursed him through his break up with Alya, who had held his hand through his bisexual awakening, the Adrien who had never failed to be there for him.

The Adrien who was his very best friend who was currently not breathing.

Nino cradled his best friend’s head in his lap as hot burning tears fell onto Adrien’s cheeks. 

“Carapace,” Chat’s kwami said. “He’s not okay.” 

“But he’s going to be okay, right?” Carapace asked, his eyes never leaving Adrien’s pale and lifeless form. “As soon as Ladybug fixes everything?”

“Probably not,” Plagg said. 

The two words struck him like a freight-train. His gut dropped out from underneath him as his heart rose up to his throat. His eyes burned, and the whole world went out of focus. He fell forward, his head pressed against Adrien’s as his sudden grief came out in wracking howls that sounded inhuman even to his own ears. 

He rocked back and forth, still holding Adrien close - if Nino held him close enough and hard enough, maybe he wouldn’t leave him. 

Nino knew that’s not how this worked. His throat cemented closed, and yet his devastated cries broke past the emotional blockade anyway.

“Carapace! Listen to me!” Plagg flew right into his face. “There’s a chance to save him! I need you to keep his heart going until Ladybug does her thing!” 

“W-what?” Nino stammered, staring at the kwami in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Turtle boy!” Plagg barked. “I need you to focus! Hands on his chest! Now! I will not lose this kitten!”

“You mean, like CPR?”

“Yes! Now!” 

Nino scrambled to comply, laying Adrien’s prone head gently on the ground, trying to ignore the stains of red on his own arms. He placed his hands on his friend’s chest. With elbows locked, Nino started pressing down hard over and over again.

“Faster!” Plagg directed. “Don’t stop!” 

Nino tried to focus on his own hands, and not on the hot tears slipping down over his mask, or the blood seeping on the cement to his knees, or the angry deep cuts that slashed across Adrien’s face, or Adrien’s closed eyes that might never open again. 

Nino tried to stamp down on his rising panic, tried to hold back the torrent of grief and tears, but he was failing. His whole form was crumpling in on itself as the wracking sobs kept coming in unrelenting waves despite his best efforts to hold them at bay.

“Don’t stop!” Plagg shouted again, diving towards Adrien’s jean pockets. 

Nino swallowed his fear and his devastation, forced it down until his gut swam sickenly. He fought off his desire to fold into a ball and howl to the universe about how this couldn’t happen. 

Instead, he forced himself to keep pressing down and up, and then down and up again on Adrien’s chest. It was a drum beat that he had to maintain, he couldn’t stop no matter how much his arms and shoulders burned in complaint. 

Because if he stopped, the world might end. 

If it hadn’t already. 

Plagg reappeared with Adrien’s phone in hand. A minute later he placed the device against Adrien’s bruised chin. A youtube tutorial on CPR was playing. Nino adjusted his rhythm to match the rapid counting in the video. It became mindless at that point, which unfortunately meant he had more ability to think.

It didn’t seem like it was working. Adrien wasn’t responding at all, and he was losing more blood with every thrust of Nino’s arms if the dark pool of red black at his knees was any indicator.

Nino lost his pace for a second overwhelmed with fear. What if it didn’t work? 

“Don’t stop!” Plagg shouted.

“He’s bleeding out!” Nino screamed back, syncing up with the video once again. “Aren’t I just making things worse?”

“Probably. I doubt anything is getting to his brain. But you’re not trying to revive him,” the kwami said, dismissively.

“I’m not?”

“No, you’re just trying to keep his soul here until Ladybug defeats the akuma.” 

“His s-soul?” Nino stuttered over the word, his desperate sobs now coming in torrents. 

His fucking soul? What was Nino supposed to do with that? It was too big and too much, and Nino didn’t know how to wrap his head around any of it. 

“P-please, Dri,” Nino begged, his voice cracking on the nickname. “P-please, don’t leave me.”

Nino’s arms kept the rhythm, never losing the pace. Even transformed, his shoulders and triceps were burning in protest, but Nino ignored it. Wayzz would provide all the endurance he needed.

The sound of shattering glass exploded overhead, spiderweb cracks spreading all across the dome.

“Fuck.”

The shield couldn’t take another hit. 

“Lose the transformation,” Plagg ordered.

Nino’s eyes whipped toward the cat kwami. “What?! Plagg! I don’t know how long I can do this without enhanced strength.”

“I will destroy anything that gets through until Wayzz has another shield up. You can’t do CPR and replenish our defenses over and over, simultaneously.”

“But… doesn’t a kwami using his power by himself make bad things happen?” ” Carapace objected out of habit, not because he particularly cared at the moment. Nino had never had the opportunity to see Wayzz without the limits of the miraculous. 

“Something bad has already happened! This is called damage control! We don’t have time to argue!”

Another splintering crack overhead seemed to punctuate Plagg’s point.

“Wayzz, shell off,” Carapace whispered. 

Immediately, his arms and back burned more intensely with the loss of the miraculous’s support, and Nino grunted with effort.

But he wouldn’t stop - not now, not ever. This was Adrien and he didn’t care if his arms fell off. He wasn’t going to give up on him.

“Cataclysm!” Plagg shouted, flying rapidly out of Nino’s line of sight. He didn’t worry about how much of the city block Plagg might take with him in destroying the incoming missiles, trusting the kwami would direct the damage AWAY from them. He didn’t worry about anyone being able to see his or Adrien’s identity. There was so much smoke that it wasn’t possible. And Nino didn’t worry about the fact that they were exposed or vulnerable. 

Adrien was already dead. If they got hit, then at least they’d go together.

Black ash rained down around them like some kind of ominous snow.

“Opaque Shelter!” Wayzz called half a second after. 

With the shield in place, Plagg whipped back down to Adrien’s shoulder watching intently. 

“Come on, Pigtails,” Plagg grumbled. “We’re running out of time.” 

Nino’s right arm spasmed in that moment, and he wasn’t sure if it was fatigue or the rising panic caused by Plagg’s words. 

“No! We can’t be out of time!” Nino screamed as if Plagg could control when Adrien’s soul was gone. Nino wiped his snot on his own shoulder, and turned his glare on Adrien’s face. “Do you hear me, Dri?!” Nino screamed, unable to wipe the tears dripping from his eyes over his nose to fall on his own now bare hands. “You can’t give up on me! You can’t!”

This wouldn’t be Adrien’s last day on Earth.

It couldn’t be. 

Because Nino didn’t know how to face the world without his best friend.

…

Adrien’s entire existence was pain. Everything was on fire - from the top of his head, through his body, to the tips of his fingers. All of it was pulsing in an agonizing rhythm. He thought the internal inferno centered on his chest, but his back felt like he had landed in a pool filled with glass shards. He couldn’t feel his legs at all, which considering how everything else was fairing, might have been a blessing. 

But it was his chest that cried out as it was struck again and again without care for his fractured ribs. 

Stop, he tried to say, begged from every inch of his mind. But the words would not form on his lips. Please, just let it end.

But the hammers to his chest kept coming, relentless and never ending. He urged his arms to action - to move, but every last bit of strength had been sapped away.

He prayed that it had been worth it - that Ladybug was alive and well - able to defeat the akuma without him. 

But his condition suggested otherwise. If Ladybug was okay, he would be too. 

Someone was crying hysterically just above him, well on their way to screaming. Their voice was broken and raspy.

It wasn’t Ladybug - the tone was too deep - but it struck a chord in him. He wanted to soothe it just the same.

I’ve survived worse, he wanted to tell the voice, though he had serious doubts if that was true. But being erased from the time continuum had to be worse, right?

“Dri?”

That was Nino. Adrien could only moan in response. 

“Shit! Plagg, I think he’s awake.” 

Why was Nino talking to Plagg? Plagg knew better.

“Don’t you dare stop!” his kwami ordered.

No. Please stop. It only came out as a whimper. 

Something hot and wet fell onto his cheek. “I’m so sorry, du-” Nino’s voice cracked before he finished the word. 

Nino was crying.

Adrien had made Nino cry. He hated that.

Adrien opened his eyes only to be assaulted with hard edges and burning lights that were far too bright. None of it made sense. He slammed them shut again, but it didn’t help. His head still wanted to split into halves.

“Dude! Take it easy!”

A warmth settled on his shoulder. Soothing vibrations pulsed through his neck. Like a cat’s purr. 

Plagg? 

“I know it hurts, kitten.” 

Adrien would have laughed had he been able. Hurt did not begin to describe the agony he was in. 

“But you will survive.”

The painful beat on his chest - so hard, so deep - like a stampede of gazelles were trampling over him - continued. It never stopped. 

Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted to survive.

The sobs from the boy above him - deep cries of pure despair - made him reconsider. Adrien would survive anything - go through any torture - to soothe Nino’s pain.

Mercifully, everything faded.

When Adrien woke up again it was to a miraculously pain-free world. He sighed, his whole body easing in relaxation. The memory of his torture was already fading fast. 

He opened his eyes again, but he still couldn’t bring the world into focus. There was a flash of green light of a miraculous transformation, but it was too bright. And Adrien let his eyes fall closed again. 

He pressed his hands down for balance, expecting to find debris and jagged fragments on the sidewalk below him. But the cold ground was smooth and undamaged. His hands were bare - he wasn’t transformed. He should have been transformed, shouldn’t he? They had been fighting an akuma.

The ladybugs had healed everything. But then, why did his head still feel like thick fog? 

“Dude! Can you hear me?” 

He wetted his lips. “Nino?” Adrien asked, recognizing the voice.

There was a beat of silence. “Yeah, it’s me, dude. Can you sit up?”

Adrien attempted to do so, and was surprised at how hesitant his muscles were to respond to his wishes. He managed to prop himself up with Nino was bracing him on both sides. Adrien leaned into the support. What was wrong with his body?

“Why?” The word came out slowly, as if Adrien’s mouth was just remembering how to form the sounds. “Why... is the world spinning?” 

Adrien wasn’t often one to complain, but usually, the ladybugs did a way better job.

“You sure he’s okay now?” Nino was asking. But who was he talking to? “Should I take him to a hospital?”

“He’s fine. The ladybugs healed him. The hospital wouldn’t know what to do with him now.”

Was that Plagg? Why was Plagg talking to Nino? Plagg should know better. Adrien clutched the sides of his head, in both hands. Why did nothing make sense?

But the nasally voice continued. “He wasn’t completely gone yet, so they could heal him. He’s physically fine now. Good job, turtle boy.”

“What about mentally?” Nino asked. 

Adrien squeezed his eyes closed. They weren’t helping him anyway, only making him dizzy. 

“You worry too much. He just needs twelve hours of sleep. He’ll be as perfect as a freshly opened wheel of camembert.”

Adrien snorted out a laugh. And it was surprisingly painless. He found himself smiling sleepily, and leaning into Nino’s chest, which felt a lot… more solid than normal.

“We don’t normally need twelve hours of sleep after a Miraculous Ladybug.” Nino’s voice was hard with frustration. “What’s different?”

“The difference is he died!” Plagg snapped back.

Adrien wanted to ask about that. What was the big deal? He had died countless times before, and it had never mattered before.

But the conversation faded away.

He woke again when he was laid down gently into his own bed. A heavy hand rubbed his shoulder soothingly. There was a beeping sound. A phone. And the hand disappeared. 

Adrien whimpered at it’s loss. 

“Yeah?” a familiar voice answered. It was still Nino. “LB, calm down. He’s okay. I took him home before anyone could see who he was. Plagg says he’ll be coherent again in twelve hours. I’ll tell him you want to see him for patrol tomorrow?”

And now Nino was talking to Ladybug like they knew each other well. It was like his worlds had smashed together like a meteor crashing onto the Earth’s surface and Adrien had somehow managed to sleep through the world ending collision. 

Was any of this real? Was he dreaming? 

He tried to sit up, but Nino’s sudden hand on his chest kept him down. Plagg curled up on his shoulder and started purring. Adrien stopped resisting and stayed down. 

“Yes, he was healed,” Nino said. “I don’t know. Plagg said it was normal for him to be out of it for a while even with the ladybugs because of… how badly he was hurt.” 

There was another pause, as the person on the other side of the conversation - presumably Ladybug - responded. 

“I promise he’s okay. Yeah… of course. I’ll be right there.” And the comforting weight on his chest vanished. 

“Plagg?” Nino called. “Can you let him know that he has a patrol with Ladybug tomorrow at the normal time? I gotta run.”

Adrien’s chest tightened at that announcement. 

“You’ll call me if anything changes?” Nino continued.

“Sure, kid,” Plagg said, still curled up on Adrien’s shoulder. 

Adrien tried to sit up again, but his body wasn’t listening to his brain. “N-Ni…no?” he forced the name past his lips. Why was it so hard to speak? 

The smooth gloved hand was on his chest again, easing his anxiety. “Just rest, mec.”

But the hand disappeared again too fast and too soon. 

“D-don’t… g-go,” Adrien managed to string together. 

The comforting presence came back, and this time Adrien pinned Nino’s arm to his chest with both his hands, determined to keep him there this time. “Okay,” Nino reassured, and slid into the bed lying prone alongside him. Adrien’s body finally melted in relief. 

“I’ll stay until you go to sleep,” Nino said.

For a beautiful moment all the tension in his body seeped away, and he just let himself drift. But a few seconds later, he processed Nino’s words and his eyes shot open.

Because Adrien didn’t want to sleep. Something was clearly wrong. He looked frantically around at the walls, ceiling, and furniture. Adrien recognized none of it. There were too many lights and colors and none of it made any sense, and it felt like the walls were closing in on him. What the hell was wrong with him? 

“N-Nino?” Adrien called, his eyes burned and his throat was closing off. “W-what…?” but he couldn’t get the rest of the words out. And it was hard not to panic. His breathing quickened, and his heart took off like there was a race to be won. 

He sucked in air frantically, because he wasn’t getting any. His chest spasmed painfully, and his arms were shaking, and his fingers tingling. The tremors spread to his extremities, the numbness only a second behind. He tried to stop the convulsing, he tried to hold it still, but he couldn’t do it. The pinpricks spread to his head, and his vision spun worse than it already was. 

“Dude!” Nino jumped in, clutching Adrien’s head in either hand. His hands were gloved and hard. 

Was it really Nino? It didn’t feel like Nino, and Adrien didn’t trust his eyes that were incapable of making sense of anything at the moment. 

“You need to stay calm. Breathe with me,” Nino said, their foreheads pressed together, but Nino was wearing some kind of hood - it was hard… like Chat Noir’s armor.

“Dri!” 

The exclamation cut through all of Adrien’s panicked thoughts. That was definitely Nino. Whatever he physically felt like, no one else called Adrien that. Nino had come up with the diminutive nickname a few years ago, shortly after he had broken up with Alya. He didn’t use it often - it was usually dude, mec, man, guy, but in the quiet moments, Nino would call him Dri. And Adrien loved it, especially when Nino was the one saying it.

“Can you do that, Dri? Breathe in slowly.” 

And Adrien trusted Nino more than anyone, except maybe Ladybug, and even then, he thought it might be a tie.

And so he listened. He breathed in deeply and slowly on a count of four before letting it back out again for another slow count of four from his best friend. 

His panic gradually receded. And he just lay there keeping his eyes closed, his hand clinging onto Nino’s - when had he even grabbed Nino’s hand - as if his life depended on it. 

Nino was still wearing the thick solid gloves. 

Nino didn’t wear gloves. Not ever. 

“What happened?” Adrien asked slowly, pleased that the words strung together fully and clearly. 

Nino’s grip tightened. “I promise I’ll explain it to you later, Kit-Kat. Plagg says you need rest.”

Had Nino just called him Kit-Kat?

“Plagg always…” Was he seriously talking about Plagg with Nino? This had to be a dream. “Plagg always votes-” Adrien’s sentence was punctuated by a yawn, “-for laziness.”

“I think Plagg may be onto something this time,” Nino said.

Adrien wanted to argue. He hated it when people didn’t explain things. When people kept secrets. And he knew he was the biggest hypocrite on that front, but he would have told Nino everything years ago if it had been his choice.

But his head was growing heavy, and his thoughts were still smothered in a muggy fog, so he didn’t protest.

“I love you, Dri,” Nino whispered. “You have no idea how much. Please. Please, don’t ever do that to me again.”

I love you, too.

…

Chapter 4: Fallout

[ronans-sepiaphotograph]

I'm totally and completely bothered by the fact that there's not enough Kaz and Wylan content so as a book junkie I'm compelled to create my own-

Kaz and Wylan, our resident scheming faces and painting:

Wylan Van Eck may not be the loudest or the most outspoken of the Crows but he was observant.

So he knew who exactly was knocking on the door on the mansion just a while after Jesper had left to get the guns serviced.

Wylan was about to start working on a new canvas when he heard the door being knocked upon as he was walking towards his room.

Kaz Brekker stood in his glory, all suit, hat and his cane as Wylan opened the door.

"Hello Kaz" "Hey merchling" "I'm painting in my room"

Kaz walked through the doors as Wylan told him where he was going. It was not a schedule but it was definitely a schedule.

Wylan would paint and Kaz would silently watch him as they quietly talked, and it helped with Jesper absent sometimes because Wylan and Kaz were both not the greatest when it came to being chatty. Sure Jesper was great company, but sometimes they wanted the quiet.

Kaz walked through and over to Wylan's room with Wylan in tow and sat on his regular seat. Yes Wylan had a seat dedicated for Kaz to sit. It definitely made Wylan more nervous as Kaz watched him.

"how are things at the slat?" "Fine, it's too noisy" "you can come over here anytime you know?" "I know"

Wylan was nervous as he pulled out the package. He had been working on it for a while now. And it was scary that Kaz would be receiving it. He didn't even know whether he would like it or not.

It was a small box, and inside were six little canvases for all of them. Wylan knew Kaz often picked up little paintings he did, thinking Wylan wouldn't notice. But then Wylan would see them tucked away in his office mantle.

So Wylan had this idea of making something for Kaz. One canvas for a Crow, a member of his family. A Crow's head (Kaz), a Knife (Inej), Waffles (Nina), a white wolf (Matthias), a revolver (Jesper) and finally a flute (Wylan). He had spent hours on the little things and Jesper had found small ornamental frame to put them into. Wylan had packed them.

He was trembling and blushing by the time he slid the package over to Kaz, who was watching him with narrowed eyes.

"what's this?" "I know you take paintings from my room so I made these for you"

Kaz gave him a look and proceeded to open it, his gloved hands neatly unwrapping it. He gave Wylan a soft smile as he looked through them. He was blushing harder now.

"Do you like them?" "One of each of us" "yeah" "Thanks Wy"

The nickname made his eyes water and he looked away, wiping his eyes. Kaz tapped his cane on the floor and Wylan immediately snapped his head up. The smile was there, faint yet present.

"why are you crying?" "Nothing, just happy tears"

Kaz put the box back and sat as Wylan left to get them waffles and coffee. He had ice-cream since he was the only one besides Inej who knew Kaz had a sweet tooth. He didn't tell anyone because he prized his life.

"do you want to try your hand at painting?" "Me?" Kaz looked confused at the question as Wylan nodded. He bit into his waffle as Kaz silently thought.

"Scheming face" "I heard that" Kaz smirked at him as Wylan blushed.

"okay then, I don't think I have the skills like you do" "I'm not skilled, it's one the few things that I'm good at. And besides without these I'm wor-"

He was interrupted as the end of Kaz's cane was jabbing into his chest. Kaz glared, enough to remind him that he was still the Dirtyhands, even if Wylan looked up to him.

"you sure you want to complete that sentence Wylan?" Wylan shook his head. "Then let's get painting"

He nodded as Kaz got up and shifted closer to the desk as Wylan found them canvased to paint on. He got water and brushes and paints and rags. He got one of the old shirts for Kaz to wear.

"wear this, won't want to spoil your suit" "always the observant one" "I heard that" "I wanted you to"

Wylan turned away as Kaz proceeded to remove his coat and turned back again when Kaz prodded him. He thought he heard a chuckle escape Kaz bit probably though he was dreaming. He opened the windows fully so he could see the gardens below and the sea. It was Blue and pristine and there were seagulls flying in the sky.

Wylan squeezed out paint as Kaz made his scheming face again as he looked through the plethora of brushes Wylan had.

"How do your even choose which one to use Wy?" Wylan chuckled as Kaz gave him a look. "You should decide what you want to paint. I usually just paint the sea on the garden on sunny days and then something from memory when the days are gloomy" "the sea sounds okay*

He helped Kaz pick a brush and then pushed a palette full of paint towards Kaz as he sat beside him, maintaining enough distance. He chuckled when he saw Kaz fumble. He figured if was probably because of the gloves that he was struggling to hold the brush properly.

"I think it's the gloves that are making it difficult" Kaz scowled at him and Wylan shut up, why had he even voiced out loud? "Sorry, I didn't mean to. It'll be fine, give it a bit of time and you'll adjust"

Kaz ignored him as he thought about it. After a silent moment lapsed, he removed the glove from his hand. It came as a surprise and Wylan didn't know whether he had the right to watch so he just looked at his blank canvas. Kaz cleared his throat.

"it's much better now" "Kaz you didn't have to, I'm sorry" "It's for my own convenience and you were right, this feels much better.

Another one of Kaz Brekker's rare smiles.

Wylan smiled at him as he got to painting himself. Kaz busied himself with watching the sea and the dipping his brush in the paint. Wylan was going to paint the sea today, just with the added memory of one particular shil sailing and floating in it. The sea always made him miss Inej terribly.

Kaz groaned beside him as he dropped the brush down and leaned back and slumped in his seat. It was rare to see Kaz so out of his comfort zone.

"How do you even do this Wy?" "It has always been my escape, when I used to stay with Jan Van Eck and try to read and write. Don't think when you're painting that's all" "that's difficult" "for you, definitely"

Kaz glared as Wylan chuckled, blushing again. Kaz had draw strokes of Blue in various shades. It wasn't bad but it was evident that Kaz had no experience painting before. He gently prodded Kaz to pick up and try again, suggesting to just think about what he was trying to paint. Kaz huffed as he picked up his brush again. Wylan noticed that he held the brush a little awkwardly which would not help at all and make Kaz more irritated and without a thought put his hand over Kaz's, briefly touching as he adjusted the brush in Kaz's fingers.

And then the realisation hit.

Wylan was going to be murdered today, in his own house, by the person he had begun to consider a best friend.

Wylan trembled and pulled his hand away but Kaz turned to him and glared daggers that made him freeze. Yep, definitely going to get murdered, he thought.

"Don't you dare move Wylan"

And because he was going to get murdered he pulled his hand away and literally ran. But Kaz was quick because obviously as Wylan felt the cane latch into his shoulder, causing him to trip. He stood frozen, not daring to turn around.

"Wylan, turn around right now" he didn't. "I won't repeat" He turned around.

Kaz stood, gloved hands on his cane as he looked at Wylan.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-" "stop talking"

Wylan did. He felt red and not all over as he felt his eyes water. Kaz put his hand forward and Wylan prepared to die but then Kaz just squeezed his shoulder. Wylan's knees gave out as he sank to the floor, on his knees. He felt his tears drop. Kaz sat down beside him. He didn't dare open his eyes.

"Wy?" "Yeah?" "Look at me?"

He opened his eyes and looked at Kaz. He expected to see anger, hatred and every hateful emotion in the coffee brown of Kaz's eyes but there was nothing. Kaz was looking at him, face devoid of expression.

"It took me by surprise because it's been a while since that had happened" "I was thinking Kaz I'm-" "Let me finish. But you don't have to worry. It just caught me by surprise that's all. And I know you didn't do on purpose, I know you would never Wy. You're our observant demo expert. You know these things better than others" "okay. I'm still sorry, I'll make sure it never happens again" "okay. It felt weird though, like a funny weird, feeling that again"

This time Kaz did let out a brief chuckle. Wylan blushed. Had Kaz Brekker just chuckled? Had Wylan just made him laugh?

Wylan looked at him, wide-eyed and in shock as Kaz got up and hauled Wylan up. He then surprised him by giving Wylan a brief side hug. Wylan was going to die of happiness today. The reason? Kaz Brekker.

"You trust me?" "That's a very stupid question Wylan"

Wylan gave a him and Kaz nodded while sipping on his coffee. Obviously I do, he meant. Wylan smiled as he wiped his eyes.

He then carefully showed Kaz how to hold the brush properly so could paint with ease and soon they were painting in silence, except for the music of the birds chirping and the trees rustling outside. Wylan smeared strokes of Blue's and Grey's and then a ship appeared on his canvas, The Wraith in all her glory.

He watched Kaz sometimes, who had apparently gotten the hang of it. He looked so out of place yet at home. Kaz Brekker painting with Wylan in his room, surrounded by art supplies, Wylan would never forget this day.

Jesper had knocked on the door a bell ago but Kaz had refused to let him inside and Wylan left to greet him with a kiss

"Wylan Van Sunshine have you dumped me for Kaz?" Wylan slapped his arm "Of course not, we're just painting and Kaz, well doesn't want to be disturbed" "Ghezen's sake Kaz is painting?" "Yes, with me" "what did you do to him Wylan?" "Shut up, we'll be done in a while. Will you please wait for us in the dining room?" Wylan made puppy eyes and Jesper responded by kissing him briefly before he disappeared and Wylan was back to his canvas. It took him some time more to finish adding the details to The Wraith. Kaz was done before him and was watching him as usual which made Wylan nervous.

"you know Kaz? You make me nervous by staring like that while I paint?" "It's amusing to see the experts at work"

Wylan blushed again as Kaz cleaned up his desk and Wylan followed. Their paintings were put on the Easel to dry. Kaz's was an abstract things but it was beautiful nonetheless, a clash of blues and beige's and whites. It looked just like the sea. Wylan smiled as he put the canvases to dry.

Jesper was waiting for them in the dining room for lunch as they sat down. He was grinning at both of them.

"So Kaz, did you have fun painting? Wylan's face suggests you did" "Don't push it Jes" "Hah! That's means you did! I wi have to tell Inej that Kaz Brekker has found a new pasttime with Wylan Van Sunshine!"

Kaz threatened him with a knife but Jesper just laughed. They had lovely lunch and Jesper disappeared again to practice with his revolvers.

Kaz was leaving as Wylan handed him his hat again. Wylan saw the shirt peeking from under Kaz's coat but said nothing.

"See you Kaz" "I want to paint again Wy" "Really?" "yes really" "okay, whenever you want"

Kaz gave him a small smile again as he waved Wylan goodbye and left for the Slat again. He didn't forget to take the gift Wylan had made for him.

The next day when Wylan went to his office regarding work about the Council, he saw all six of the canvases promptly put on the mantle, besides one of his own paintings.

"They look good" was all Kaz said. Wylan's day was made.

[brokehorrorfan]

Interview: James DeMonaco (The Purge franchise)

James DeMonaco thought he had purged himself from The Purge. Having written and directed the first three entries in the hit dystopian action-horror franchise then writing and producing two more sequels and a TV series, he publicly declared that The Forever Purge - released in theaters in July and on home video last week - would be the final installment. "I say it's my last Purge at the end of every one, so I feel like a fool saying there's going to be another one, but I definitely thought [The Forever Purge] was it. I can't lie. That was it for me. I thought I ended America appropriately."

It was the United State Capitol insurrection on January 6 that sparked an idea for a sixth entry. "The country felt like it was coming apart at the seams, and I think the sociopolitical discord fueled something in a nightmare of mine. I woke up with this idea, and I pitched it to Sébastien Lemercier, my producer, then Jason Blum, the other producer. I don't know if they were ready for another Purge, but they liked it. We pitched it to the studio, and they liked it, so I was given the green light to write it.”

The script brings back Frank Grillo's character of Leo Barnes, who was introduced in The Purge: Anarchy and returned in The Purge: Election Year. "I said, ‘If I do another one, I’d like to do it with Frank Grillo.' People loved him, and I love working with Frank." The script is complete but production is uncertain at the moment. "I’m guessing the studio is evaluating the COVID release of [The Forever Purge], so we’ll know soon I guess... I’m hoping we get to do it. I can’t give any definitives other than it’s written and Frank’s excited to do it."

As for the plot of the proposed seventh installment, "It takes place 10 years after The Forever Purge. America has been completely remapped. The states are much different and how they’re broken down is much different, without giving too much away, but there’s a tribalized nature to the new America. [Leo] is living kind of off the grid, but he’s pulled back into the Purge world that still exists in some way, shape, or form."

Truth be told, DeMonaco never expected The Purge to become a franchise. "I didn’t see it going past one [movie]. When we had the script, I think we counted 37 financing entities that had read the script and almost all said the same thing: ‘It’s too anti-American. It’s too nihilistic.’ We really thought if we did get it made, it was going to be a small Michael Haneke film, something like Funny Games, that would play at arthouse theaters and wouldn’t have a wide release."

It was horror producer extraordinaire Jason Blum - who had optioned scripts from DeMonaco when he was an executive at Miramax earlier in his career - that recognized the possibilities of The Purge. "We didn’t see the scope of the potential release until Jason [Blum]. He read it, and he saw something in the conceit that I don’t think I saw; the bigger potential of it. We had no idea I’d be here five movies and two seasons of a TV show later. It’s been a strange ride!"

DeMonaco stepped down as director after three installments of The Purge, but he was eager to guide the franchise as writer-producer. "I was ready to move to something new. I had been Purge-ing for many years in a row. It’s a dark world to live in. I still wanted to shepherd the story. I was always afraid, if it went into someone else’s hands, it potentially could become something I didn’t want it to be. Maybe it could be even better than what I would do, but it also could be something more exploitative in a way that I didn’t want it to go."

DeMonaco found filmmakers he could trust to hand over the reins, but he's eager to return to the director's chair if the next chapter comes to fruition. "When we found Gerard [McMurray], I felt like we were in great hands [on The First Purge]. He understood the sociopolitical nature of the piece. It’s what he loved even more than the genre elements. He felt like the right guy to take over, as did Everardo [Gout] on Part 5. But for 6, I was excited to direct again when I came up with this conceit, so I do believe there’s a chance, if Frank came back, we could re-team and do it together.

Any successful, long-running franchise - particularly one as politically-charged as The Purge - is bound to have its critics, and DeMonaco takes it all in stride. “To my detractors I often say, ‘The Purge is not a subtle film.’ There’s no subtlety at all. I’m hitting people over the head with a sledgehammer with my thoughts on the current political climate in the country. I think some people think it’s too political, and I get that. They don’t want to be preached and proselytized to. Some people love it for those exact reasons. My favorite movies are usually in the 50 percentile on Rotten Tomatoes. They’re gonna piss a lot of people off, and they’re gonna make some people really happy. I think sometimes you have to be bold in what you’re doing. For the people who hate it, that’s their right to hate!” he chuckles.

DeMonaco challenges himself to make every entry in The Purge series unique. "I really take a lot of time to make sure each one is very different than the previous, so even if you’ve seen the first four, we have a mandate between us to say, ‘Let’s not repeat ourselves. Let’s really try to flip it on its head.’ I think [The Forever Purge] feels new. Even the visual palette of the film is new. It takes place in a new territory, a new terrain; it’s not back in an inner city. It takes The Purge to a new level that we haven’t seen before, and I think the characters are wonderful. These are people you truly come to care about, and you want to go on the journey with them. It’s not a rehash that I’ve seen in some franchises. It’s very hard to keep doing new things, but I think it’ll feel fresh."

The Forever Purge's original release date was delayed due to the pandemic, and then it became one of the first wide releases once vaccines were rolled out. "We still don’t exactly know how to process if it’s good or bad financially. It’s hard to know, to be honest. I’m not privy to the backdoor meetings with the adults regarding the financials," he smirks. "But they’re great partners, so I hope they’re happy. I know it was a weird time. A Quiet Place [Part II] came out of the box so big that we all thought, ‘Hey, we’re back!’ But I didn’t know anybody at the time that was going back to the movies. It was a monstrous opening, yet I didn’t know one person who saw it in the theater. It’s still confusing as to what the future of the box office is."

"My biggest fear is that the box office doesn’t return, because I think we can’t replicate inside a movie theater. It’s a scary time." The impact of the theatrical experience is the centerpiece of DeMonaco's latest film, This Is the Night. It reunites the writer-director with Grillo and Blum, but it plays like an antithesis to their work on The Purge. “I think it was something I needed to do,” DeMonaco explains. “Movies have been my guiding force in life. My religion was cinema, and it’s been my passion. I always wanted to make a movie about that love of cinema and what it can inspire. It was wonderful to do after the first three Purges.”

Set in Staten Island during the summer of 1982, the coming-of-age story serves as DeMonaco’s love letter to cinema. "It’s about Rocky III - or any movie, which is why I don’t show any of Rocky III during the screening - that can inspire people to rise up and be better people. It’s about the power of art. It was great to make. I think it’s a very sweet, good-feeling film. I think I needed that myself after making The Purge.”

DeMonaco is currently developing a new horror movie starring Saturday Night Live favorite Pete Davidson. "We’re friends, we live close together. He was a big Purge fan, so we hit it off through a mutual friend." While he's elusive regarding plot details, he does offer a few hints. "I can’t really say it’s contained. It takes place in one place but a big place, so it’s not Purge-size. It’s bigger than that; a facility of some sort."

On working with Davidson, DeMonaco notes, "Big Time Adolescence is a great performance, so is The King of Staten Island, but there’s some humor in those films. There’s almost zero humor in the one we’re doing together. I think that’s exciting for me working with Pete, in that he’s going in a very new direction. This one is much more straightforward for his character." He enthuses, "I’m psyched to work with Pete. I can’t wait."

[uwua3]

may I request taichi with friend/crush reader? reader asked taichi to help them dye their hair, and while the hair dye is processing they start to awkwardly flirt/joke with each other to the point that they don't notice how much time passed and the dye became too dark. i'm sorry if this is too specific, but thank you so much in advance if you do write it! take care! c:

hi hi, anon~ ☆ thank you so much for requesting! this made me sososo #Happy because taichi deserves all the love in the world 💗 !! ∪･ω･∪ please give our baby puppy nanao your heart 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 he deserves it! you also deserve love, anon~ ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) please accept all my #Love 💖✨ for this prompt! thank you for everything, i love you lots, okay? :D 💕

summary: when your best friend, taichi, texts you there’s an emergency, you come running to a bad hair day

author’s note: please love taichi lots, reader! that’s all~ have a good rest of your day and remember taichi & i will always love you sososo much !! (>◡<♡).:｡

word count: 3,055

music: dream boy – waterparks

bad hair day!

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

“where is he?!”

sakyo stared down at you, opening the door after waking up to repetitive pounding that nearly shook the whole dorm

you were still in your pajamas and out of breath—did you run over here?

before sakyo could angrily swear at you for making no sense just past midnight, you ducked underneath his arm and escaped around the corner

although some dorm lights were on, most of the rooms were pitch black as expected of it being a school day tomorrow. you were about to sprint into the slightly ajar door of room 105 before omi stepped out, an amused smile greeting you

“taichi’s in the bathroom, if you’re looking for him.” omi gestured towards the shared bathrooms at the end of the hallway, to which you gratefully thanked him and ran off again

(omi looked after you, a smile upon his tired expression. “kids these days.” omi yawned, heading back into his dorms and shutting the door softly behind him)

you didn’t take as much consideration into your actions before you slid into the communal bathroom, slamming the door behind you with uncontrollable force. you leaned against it, panting as you finally saw him

nanao taichi was sitting near the sink with three (3) boxes of random hair dye on the counters, very obviously confused and distressed

“taichi, what’s the emergency?!”

“my hair dye isn’t the right shade!”

“... are you serious?”

this was it. it was hair–dye day

except this time, it wouldn’t be just taichi’s hair transformation—you were getting a new look, too!

how did you get yourself into this mess exactly? maybe sleepily reading an urgent message from your best friend late at night declaring he was having an “emergency” wasn’t a good idea after all...

there was something about taichi’s big puppy eyes that couldn’t make you say no despite all your frustration, so here you were, tiredly following an overexcited boy down the aisles of the local convenience store

did i mention it was way too late? on a school day, by the way? i didn’t, well, now you know!

“taichi,” you called out, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes and tried not to wince at the bright led lights of the display. taichi barely paid attention, humming an incoherent answer as he browsed the rainbow shelf of hair dyes in front of him

“don’t you think... we should wait until tomorrow?” taichi seemed to process your words a moment late, because he turned towards you, bewildered as if you were the crazy one

yeah, you were crazy. taichi definitely wasn’t holding three wildly different boxes of hair dye and debating between all of them. he also definitely didn’t mislead you into thinking something happened when all he had was s bad hair day. you knew you had to intervene or else his usual red would become kazunari’s palette

“tomorrow? what’s wrong with now?”

“it’s almost midnight, we have school in nearly seven hours, and i know for a fact you didn’t do your homework.”

(taichi flinched at that and you were unsatisfied to see you were right, as always)

“i know that, but!—” “it’s midnight.” “hey, new day, new you, right?” “we have school in a few hours.” “think of how cool you’ll be showing up with dyed hair!” “you have homework.”

“i know, i know,” taichi shrugged, holding the boxes up to his line of sight with serious consideration as he glanced at you. with one look at your tiredness, taichi put the red cart down and completely faced you, putting his hands on your shoulders with a pout

“come on, don’t be like that!” taichi whined, nearly stomping his feet when you just huffed and looked away. jumping so he stayed in your view, it was like a pet wanting attention and using its cuteness as its charm

“hey, hey, look at me, please~?” taichi dragged out, moving his hands so they cupped your cheeks. he made you look at him and all you saw was a backwards baseball cap on a head of nearly half black hair and wide cyan eyes. he looked fully awake, you wondered where his infectious energy came from

“turn that frown, upside down!” taichi turned the corners of your lips up with his pointer fingers, making you automatically smile with the way his giggle got louder. “that’s my best friend!” taichi patted your cheeks again and bounced back down to his heels, rocking back and forth on his worn down sneakers

“look at us! we’re two high schoolers about to make an impulsive decision! nothing could go wrong!” taichi laughed and although there were a million things that could’ve gone wrong, you just sighed with a smile on your face

“you’re right.” you said even if he wasn’t. taichi just picked the cart back up and tilted his head towards the dyes, asking for your opinion on what colors you liked

you chose red, too. when taichi questioned why curiously, you patted his head and responded with, “so we can match!”. the boxes of hair dye you both bought were red just like taichi’s face when you answered honestly

sneaking back into the bathroom to avoid the “you have school” lecture from a very pissed off sakyo who still couldn’t go back to sleep, you and taichi failed at hushed whispers. everything felt like a joke and it didn’t exactly help taichi found everything you did hilarious and comical

setting down the boxes like it was second nature, taichi let out a sound of excitement at the colors. even if you were running on little to no sleep, you felt the same with the adrenaline of looking like a new person in just a few hours

“we’re gonna look so cool!” taichi squealed, taking his time mixing the dye color with the bowl and brush quickly

you sat on the sink counter, swinging your legs as taichi leaned onto the surface next to you, rambling away about how popular red was this season and how all the students will fall in love with his trendiness

used to your friend’s lovesick, hopeless romantic antics, you fondly rolled your eyes as you stretched, stifling a yawn

“is that why you decided to dye your hair tonight?”

“... maybe. there was advice that having perfext roots would attract any woman in my favorite love advice column!”

“...” “do you think people will like my hair?” “they might think we’re a couple since we’re matching.”

taichi suddenly stopped mixing, staring at the bowl wide eyed at the red dye. you were about to ask what happened, before taichi nervously laughed and looked towards the ground

“u–us? a couple?! no way...” taichi blurted out, avoiding your eyes as he began mixing even faster

“do you want me to change my color then—?” you cautiously started, about to change your mind before taichi interrupted hastily, almost knocking the other boxes over by waving his gloved hands

“no! i mean, haha... no, no, it’s fine! don’t worry about it!” taichi laughed so you slowly nodded, not buying it but deciding to go with the flow anyways. you were too tired to think about it too hard

you both unanimously agreed that taichi would dye your hair first. after all, he had more experience doing this by himself until you came along

one thing though, you didn’t want to ruin your pajama shirt. after rummaging through his closet quietly, you felt a t–shirt land on your head and heard a victorious laugh from the doorway

lifting the shirt, you recognized the one–eyed monster graphic design on the front, its tongue sticking out with some graffiti text above its head

“are you sure? you always wear this one?” you hesitated to take it before taichi forced it back into your hands, his expression easy and humorous

“take it, it’ll look better on you, anyways.” taichi casually said and you wondered how many smooth pick up lines he’s been reading. but, one look at his light smile and you could tell he genuinely meant it

returning back into the bathroom wearing a black t–shirt, you had changed into his t–shirt as well. while you were making sure all the dyes were separated to avoid any accidents, you barely noticed taichi stop dead in his tracks

(how come you looked so... good, in his t–shirt? maybe, he should give you his clothes more often... taichi gulped, wondering why he was suddenly feeling this way. it must’ve been the lack of sleep, the tiredness of staying up past his usual bedtime, that’s all!)

“are you ready for the best hair day ever?”

unexpectedly, taichi was quiet for the next hour or so. you could tell from the way he carefully applied just the right amount on your roots to how he knew the time on the box without even looking

maybe it was the way neither of you had proper sleep schedules, but you nearly fell asleep when taichi began combing your hair. after letting it develop, taichi began evenly distributing the red color while humming a popular pop song from his playlist in the background

you didn’t know when you dozed off, but you woke up to a flash of a camera and heard taichi’s snickers right in front of you. rubbing your eyes, you sat up straighter to notice a plastic bag was wrapped around your hair with an empty bowl of red dye discarded in the sink

“morning, sleepyhead~!” taichi greeted way too happily at this hour, making you groan as you stood up. “you didn’t sleep, taichi?” you wondered out loud, noticing how he scrolled through his phone aimlessly with a nonchalant sound

“yawn—i mean! i’m not even tired, gotta wait for your timer to go off to rinse your hair!” (it was his rule that he was always the last person to sleep if he was with you) taichi proudly held up his phone and showed you the screen, as if you could see it from there

(maybe if you could, you would’ve prevented the disaster about to occur in the very near future)

“your turn, puppy. come over here.” you stretched and taichi squealed, running over just to nearly knock over the chair from excitement. taichi always liked doing things with you, and you pampering him made him feel a lot happier than he’d like to admit

“can you stay still?” “i’m trying~! geez, so mean first thing in the morning... uuh...” “awww come on, don’t act like a kicked puppy, taichi!” “woof...”

it was the saddest bark you’ve ever heard. you smiled even if taichi was squirming in his seat and pet his dry hair, your best friend automatically leaning into your touch with a content sigh as he closed his eyes. oh, finally! taichi went still, letting you start the dye process quickly

just like you, taichi was on the verge of staying awake and falling asleep. it was nice to have someone taking care of you like a little kid, not to mention how neither of you have slept for more than half a hour at time. as you applied the rest and making sure all the sections were even, taichi stirred in his sleep with a cute yawn again

“i’m cool, right?” taichi mumbled, seemingly getting closer and closer to snoring. you held back a snicker, nodding your head as you kept going with the dye. for your first time, it wasn’t even that bad

“yes, of course. you’re the coolest boy at o high, taichi.” you reassured truthfully, to which taichi pouted like a kid, crossing his arms and leaning his head back. you made sure none of the dye dripped off before you started painting the bright red on again

“that’s not true... juza and tenma go to o high... they’re so popular, everyone loves them.” taichi added on sadly, but you knew he meant it and it wasn’t just fishing for compliments. wondering why a boy as amazing as taichi would have an inferiorty complex, you frowned and tried to focus on applying the dye

“well, i think you’re the coolest to me, then. after all, juza and tenma don’t have this cool red hair!” you almost ruffled his hair but stopped, knowing it’d mess up the part. taichi must’ve sensed you were about to do so, because he let out a loud, sudden laugh with a big smile

“hehe, you’re the coolest to me, too!” taichi trailed off into a low voice, about to fall asleep for good. you wrapped his head to make sure the hair stayed in place, satisfied with your hard work and dedication to your best friend’s appearance

“do you say that to everyone you meet?” you joked, but taichi just shook his head vigirously, entering sleepy puppy mode anyways

“no, just you, you know why~?”

“why?”

“‘cause... i like y...”

taichi snored, his head falling lower as he fell asleep for good. you didn’t even process it, deciding to take the seat next to him without checking the time

time to get some shut eye...

you slowly woke up, realizing that you were now laying your head on top of taichi’s. he was almost drooling on your shoulder, even breaths leaving his lips as he continued sleeping. you lifted your head to look around for the reason why you woke up, until you noticed the constant ringing of taichi’s phone on the sink counter

“puppy, wake up, it’s time to rinse our hair.” you pushed taichi off, automatically waking him up as he rapidly blinked, trying to focus his blurry vision as he yawned

“... has the sun always been up?”

you froze, staring at taichi’s casual expression before it morphed into shock, his wide eyes finding yours with urgency. don’t tell me...

you rushed off the chair, nearly hitting it to the ground as you grabbed taichi’s vibrating phone, looking at the screen. instead of a timer for rinsing, it was labeled for starting the school day

“taichi.” you said, slowly turning to see him staring back at you. the realization dawned upon both of you severely. “we have school in less than a hour.”

mankai bathrooms were always chaotic in the morning, especially with twenty (20) plus boys all sharing one space. yet, today might’ve been the worst day to use the bathroom yet

you and taichi immediately began cleaning up and rinsing your hair at the same time, losing your minds over the lack of time as you two knew both your hair could not be saved

“what if i’m not cool anymore?!”

“can we focus on going to school on time?”

(banri and juza were exchanging their usual harsh morning greetings to each other, walking side by side to the bathroom only to hear taichi’s pierching shriek and your immediate scream back. they shared a look before collectively going back to their room, not wanting to know. it was the first thing they agreed upon in a while)

taichi dashed out of the bathroom with half a hour to spare, quickly putting on his uniform on without noticing omi who stood by the door, holding onto taichi’s backpack with an amused glint to his eyes

when taichi finally found his o high dark green blazer and pants (his dress shirt buttons were mismatched, but that wasn’t important), he was about to run right past omi before omi put his arm out, stopping taichi from leaving

“forgetting something?” omi held out taichi’s backpack with a packed lunch, making taichi exhale with relief as he took it gratefully. “omi, you’re the best ever!”

omi instead shook his head and crossed his arms, gesturing towards the bathroom where you were still cleaning up the red mess

“no, they’re the best. make sure you tell them that.” omi scolded gently, ruffling taichi’s hair but suddenly narrowing his eyes, looking the teen up and down with a confused look

“huh...? didn’t you dye your hair, why isn’t it that red?”

“don’t remind me, omi!”

(fun fact: leaving hair dye on for longer than 45 minutes will in fact, make the color much darker than intended)

(also... dry hair...)

you luckily brought your uniform, thinking the big emergency would require a sleepover. you stepped out of the bathroom and apologized to the bewildered and incredulous line that formed outside, rushing off to find taichi shoving a piece of bread in his mouth

“here! catch!” you assumed taichi tried to say, because his words were muffled as he threw you something from the kitchen. you caught it with ease, putting it in your pocket as you and taichi said goodbye to everyone in the dorms

you two didn’t even bother addressing why taichi’s hair was many shades darker and why yours was red as well. you two just left and prayed to whoever was listening you’d make it to school on time... or else

half way through making it out the door, you and taichi finally caught each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, nearly falling onto each other in the middle of the sidewalk like a bunch of weirdos

“yo! look at our hair!” taichi spluttered out, reaching up to touch your now red hair. you wheezed, trying to not cry from the sheer audacity of the strange situation at hand

“dude, look at your hair! it’s even darker!” you laughed and even though his bright red hair was apart of his identity, taichi couldn’t stop laughing just because he went through it with you

“am i still cool?”

“definitely, even cooler now, i think.”

the laughter died down and taichi wrapped his arm around your shoulder, grinning like there was no tomorrow

“you’re the best. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you suddenly remembered something you didn’t respond to just mere hours ago, and figured it was better late than never

“i like you, too.”

when taichi overcame his visible shock and multiple “are you serious?! don’t play with my feelings like that!” and figuring out you were being honest, he slipped his hand into yours with a visible jump to his step as you two walked to school

even if he wore gloves, his hands were still somewhat stained red from the hair dye that started it all

(“did you do the homework this morning?”)

(“... we had homework?”)

(“oh, taichi...”)

[meowstic-madness]

I has made palettes for 3 of my Pokémon OCs.

Meet the Pendragons!

They are a family that live in the Auski region. They are half Auskian and half Galarian.

Might need to tap for better quality.

Mistine:

Mistine, preferably Misty, is the youngest of the three, but she has a strong attitude. She is the final Gym Leader, leading one of the two switch-type Gyms; the Dark and Psychic Gym. She originally had green eyes, like her siblings, but due to being surrounded by dark and psychic energy, her eyes have gradiented to purple.

At the age of 17, she travelled to Kalos, due to her starting to act negatively towards her siblings. There she ended up showing off her potential, and accidentally ended up in Team Flare. She was decribed as an “experiment”, to see what she’d do. She of course, was an idiot and thought she was just being appreciated for her strength. When she finally realised, she fled, but she didn’t get out unharmed. She’s covered in scars and bite marks from Pokémon that were unleashed on her.

When she got back, she realised her mistakes in Kalos, and also with her family, so she strived to fix it. When she heard that a Gym Challenge was starting up in Auski, she decided to take on the role of a Gym Leader. She bested all other applying leaders, making her the final Gym Leader to face.

Colin:

Colin is the middle child, and is the shy one. He’s trained in teaching Mega Evolution, as the Auski region are currently striving to keep Mega Evolution alive.

He may not be as successful as his sisters, but he’s the most well known Pendragon in the region. He often acts as a guide for those that don’t know the region, knowing about all the facilities and history in each town. He works best as a waiter in cafes, but is a terrible cook himself. The man also lives out in a cottage in the forest, friendly to Pokémon to come and go as they please. Along with being a Mega Evolution tutor, he also currently has the job of travelling around the forest to find and take down Pokémon traps.

Colin is best known as “The Dog Trainer” as most people see him with 3 dog Pokémon, but anyone that has watched him battle knows that’s not all the Pokémon he has.

Karma:

Karma is the oldest, and is the region’s leading astronomer. She’s worked hard for her role in studying attonomy, especially with her fascination in stars and constellations. Despite this, she has a strong love for Pokémon and wants to find ways to protect wild Pokémon from hunters. With this thought in mind, Karma is currently the leader of The Twilights, a group of people that wear purple jackets with stars on them and go around protecting Pokémon from harmful people.

When younger, the Pendragons travelled to Galar for a while, allowing Karma to participate in the Gym Challenge at the age of 12 and with the number 181. She ended up getting all the way to the semi finals, but was ultimately knocked out by one of the other challengers. So now, from a young age, Karma has been a strong trainer, but can never defeat her sister in a battle.

Very rarely does she get the chance to battle anymore, but she’s always willing to when she gets free time. She has a very busy schedule, but when she does get free time, she usually uses it to visit her siblings.

And there are my babies!

Pokémon teams are below if you would like to see what they are. :)

Auskian Meowstic [] Female [] Ability: Keen Eye [] Misty’s partner Pokémon.

Auskian Meowstic [] Female [] Ability: Keen Eye [] Misty’s partner Pokémon.

Auskian Meowstic [] Female [] Ability: Keen Eye [] Misty’s partner Pokémon.

Auskian Meowstic [] Female [] Ability: Keen Eye [] Misty’s partner Pokémon.

Auskian Houndoom [] Male [] Ability: Levitate [] The responisble one out of Misty’s Pokémon.

Honchkrow [] Female [] Ability: Super Luck [] Unlike other Honchkrow, she doesn’t like other birds.

Gallade [] Male [] Ability: Steadfast [] Misty caught him in Kalos, since the Ralts line isn’t found in Auski. Canonically happy homosexaual Gallade. Mega Evolves.

Hatterene [] Female [] Ability: Healer [] Unlike other Hatterene, she likes being around emotion, and she tends to make as mych noise as she can.

Hydregion [] Male [] Ability: Levitate [] Chaotic, but very cuddly. Hates water and whistling.

Colin:

Furfrou [] Male [] Ability: Fur Coat [] Shiny with the Star Trim. Colin’s partner Pokémon.

Lucario [] Male [] Ability: Steadfast [] Was saved from hunters by Colin. Is rather nervous for a Lucario. Mega Evolves.

Granbull [] Female [] Ability: Quick Feet [] A very motherly doggo that can cook.

Milotic [] Female [] Ability: Marvel Scale [] A bery pretty snake.

Goodra [] Female [] Ability: Gooey [] Shiny. She was rescued from a hunter net in the forest. She’s a very cuddly Goodra.

Swarmental [] Male [] Ability: Hyper Cutter [] He may be intimidating, but he just wants pets.

Karma:

Gothitelle [] Female [] Ability: Frisk [] Karma’s partner Pokémon.

Zebstrika [] Male [] Ability: Motor Drive [] A very sassy zebra.

Banette [] Female [] Ability: Insomnia [] She has a habit of hiding in the shadows or floating around with a grin plastered on her face. Mega Evolves.

Durladon [] Female [] Ability: Light Metal [] She was caught in Galar when Karma did her Gym Challenge.

Bavilorn [] Male [] Ability: Battle Armour [] He acts as a guardian for Karma, since he’s a natural protector.

[nightswithkookmin]

3 I don't think jk feels that way. He loves to protect jm why would he want jm to take even more heat by making things clearer to the fans? Not to mention except nibbling on jm's ear, tatoos & gcfs are not a clear indication of what jk feels he also hides behind art (wich is very subjective) to express his feelings and even denied jm being his main model. Even V has been more direct about writing songs about jm. So for him to be frustrated with jm would be unfair & hypocritical which idt jk is.

This post you mean??

I didn't feel the need to get into it directly because everything you said in here is based off of a misinterpretation of my post- the post in response to the Anon who said there seems to be a strain on Jikook's relationship, for context.

I never said or implied your premise, ergo your entire argument is pointless? Lol. If I had to respond to it, it would have been 'No. You didn't understand it correctly.'

Maybe you should read over it again?

I mean, no one else seem to have had that impression in the comments apart from you?What is it in that post that gave you that impression? Maybe I should read over it too... Damn.

I simply pointed out in response to the Anon, that JK seems much reserved in the way that he expresses himself towards Jimin mostly post JM's birthday. Which may or may not confirm my earlier suspicions about the whole JM birthday saga- which as I said, again, I don't want to make conclusive statements on because it's an on going phase and so it's a bit hard to reconstruct the timeline.

I said and meant and intended to mean, that if JM and the company or even BTS had expressed disapproval on JK wanting to post on JM's birthday then JK choosing not to express himself openly in regards to JM in the aftermath would be understandable. Jk seems like the all or nothing kinda guy to me- I've been saying.

They are either treating the glass closet as a glass closet or not. Which would mean JK stops his bold gestures and expressions towards JM and JM stops publicly doting on JK and expressing himself towards him in the way that he does.

But if JM is going to dot on him openly and express himself openly with regards to JK, then JK should be allowed to do the same- however way he prefers.

I didn't say I felt JK is frustrated because Jimin does whatever you are saying. All I said is I feel he gotta be frustrated if he cannot express himself the way that he wants to- especially given his personality and his background.

He often talks about not being censored much growing up as a kid and so he is used to having his way and doing things the way he wants.

My point being that Jimin expresses a certain level of 'nervousness' sometimes with the way JK expresses himself with regards to him. Especially since JK's 'bold' moves often times scratches against their glass closet to the point it can be considered 'outing.'

Jk posting on JM's birthday when he hasn't done that for anyone in the group since Jin's birthday last year would have been borderline "outing" considering. And as I said, I don't think that would have sat well with either Jimin or the group or even BigHit because it would raise a lot of brows and have people questioning whether there's more to Jikook's relationship.

Frankly, as I pointed out, given the circumstances people would raise questions over whomever he chooses to post for next regardless, especially if he doesn't post for anyone else after that- it would be world war Z up in these streets I tell ya. Lol.

JK has had his passions sabotaged over the years- his GCFs I mean, and this was one of the means he had to express his authentic self and his raw feelings as a person and as an artist. Expressing his feelings clearly is important to him as much as recieving.

And if he cannot express himself with regards to the person he loves in the way that he wants then that's got to be frustrating to him, in my opinion.

And when you think that the person he loves can get away with blurting out things like that 'the best thing in his life is waking up to see his boyfriend's face in the morning' in a middle of an interview then you'd understand what I mean.

The members booed at JM for that yes, but I don't think had JK said that, that they would have had the same reaction to him- did you see their reaction when Jk blurted out 'arrest me' when Jimin said he wanted to be a police officer or something?

That doesn't mean JM doesn't make similar bold moves that are equally risqué in regards to JK. Just saying he often gets away with it because majority of the fandom don't take him seriously at all, lol. They often dismiss his moves towards JK as fanservice or tie it to his "naturally kind and affectionate" personality.

As to whether that is fair or not- honestly I don't care. Lol. I'm more interested in observing their interactions to try to understand the motivations behind their actions and behaviors- which again, are all just theory and assumptions.

Honestly, I don't impose my judgment on Jikook's actions in that way. If I had to, I'll just say they are both wrong and they are both right and all is fair in love and war. Because I sort of understand the motivations behind these actions even if they are just theory.

But I don't do the JK vs JM business- which is what it seems you are doing here?

I keep saying they both have valid needs. JK's needs are not less valid than JM's needs. Neither is JM's needs less Valid. They both have valid motivations for the choices that they make. From my perspective.

They both have downsides and upsides and I am well aware of it. I just don't mind. I mean, they are human in every sense of the word.

JK fuming whenever someone breathes near JM but he himself being Mr roaming hands premium is double standards. If you don't want Jimin touching others don't touch others. It's as simple as that. JM playing Mr 'I'm available never been wed' when he knows damn well he is in a committed relationship with Mr double standards roaming hands premium is foul play.

They both suck. Lol.

Yet I don't mind at all. I love them regardless.

Besides, as I said, from the feed back I got it seems you were the only one who had that impression? I would have made a post to clarify it sooner if I sensed from the responses that two or more people had had similar impressions of it.

I usually don't hold myself responsible for other's comprehension skills and it didn't seem like you were asking for clarification either? May be next time ask for clarification if you are uncertain about anything instead? I don't know. Just do whatever makes you happy I guess.

There were certain statements you made in here that I found interesting regardless- the part dismissing JK's means of expressing himself but claiming V exresses his intentions better through his art....

You think may be V is able to talk openly about writing songs inspired by Jimin because there is nothing there to hide and his song lyrics aren't indicative of nothing?

I'm sorry but Friends seems like a very friend zoned conversation than a confession of romantic feelings to me.

I don't think JK wants to write a song about how Jimin is his bestfriend- Jimin would skin him alive. In my opinion. Lol.

Plus, when Tae tried to make a duet with Jimin the company (producer) allegedly didn't green light that project- I wonder why. Smirk.

Even as friends, there seems to be a limit they are allowed to go with their artistic expressions.

In JK's case, well Jimin have said he isn't really good at expressing his emotions and JK have admitted in recent times- in his Be Weverse Magazine interview that he is not particularly great at writing everything he wants to express.

Personally, before I heard him say this, I often felt he seemed to hold himself back a lot from fully expressing himself through his lyrics. He has a broad range of musical experience and honestly a rich lyrical palette from his various song recommendations throughout the years and I expected more from him when it came to his lyricism and expressions.

I don't take his lyrics for granted though because it is still one of the means through which he expresses his authentic self and after reading this bit about him, chilee I'm gone treat his lyrics like the gospel. Sorry Jesus. Lol.

I don"t know but perhaps he waters down on his expressions through his lyrics too- I mean there is only so much he can say without letting people into his inner psyche?

Dude had to sneak Stay past JM. Lmho. He's so cute.

The point I'm making is, you can't claim it is unfair for JK to use his art as cover to express his feelings for Jimin and then in the same breath praise another member expressing his feelings for Jimin through his art.

And the part about JM going out of his way and taking risks to break JK"s walls in their earlier dynamic... who asked him? Lol.

No seriously, who put him on that mission? He has his own Jikook agenda. I don't think he was doing JK a favor. Do you? I find that narrative problematic. Jimin is not a charity case. JK is not his 'console"ation price.

I don't think JK feels indebted to JM and I don't think he should. That's not love. I don't think Jimin wants his pity either. Again, that's not love.

Then the bit about JK protecting JM. I think I addressed it already. JM has a duty to protect JK as much as JK has a duty to protect him.

If him expressing his love for Jimin the way he wants to is him not protecting Jimin, then JM equally openly expressing his feelings for JK is him not protecting JK.

I won't hold this over you though because your response is based off of a misinterpretation.

Please let's not do the whole JK vs JM thingy next time. I get that a lot from my fellow PJMs here. Jikook are not enemies.

I had to respond to this because you said something about it not being fair that I didn't post the original Ask.

Please bare in mind you are Anonymous and it's hard to ask for clarification and stuff from y'all when I don't understand anything about the posts and comments you send in.

But at your end, I think you are in a better position to quote me and ask for clarifications if you want one. You don't have to. But I think it makes it easier to have certain conversations.

I enjoyed your thoughts. I haven't read them all yet but I will.

Stay safe. I purple you.

Signed,

GOLDY

[notnctu]

orange - n.yt | 127 color series ❀

❀ orange - nct127 color drabble series ❀ nakamoto yuta x reader ❀ genre - angst, slight fluff ❀ word count - 852 ❀ listen to - speaking of by souly had  ❀ synopsis - orange represents warmth, enthusiasm, expression, and compassion. every setting sun reminded you of his warmth.

❀ a/n: hi this is author doie❀! I hope you enjoy this color series! these are my original moodboards and are watermarked! im okay with people using them for wallpapers, but pls don’t reupload them as your own!! thank you hehehehe!!

You tossed and turned in your sheets. The coldness caused you to become restless. You spent days and long nights sleepless and frozen. The only warmth you could escape to was his --- Nakamoto Yuta. 

The moment he left, he took every source of heat from your life. He walked away and the robust, vibrance carried itself with him. Orange juice no longer tasted sweet, only sourness and bitterness continued to linger on your tongue. The sunsets that held the most wondrous mixtures of colors, like blurs of warm paints messily swirled on a palette, even lost their liveliness. Even your favorite flowers --- poppies --- seemed gray and dull. 

Yuta made you feel orange. Enthusiastic. Warm. Fun. Compassionate. Joyful. Expressive. Carefree. To see his cute, wide smile and the hearty laughter that erupted from his core was special. It was a lifetime memory that came as fast as it disappeared. He was the only one during this lifetime to love you so tenderly. You knew deep down that he had introduced you to a side of life too hard to let go. 

He genuinely treasured you. However, the relationship became overbearing for him. He spilled more of himself than he should’ve. Orange was perfect in the right amount, or else it becomes engulfing and took over the entire canvas. 

You both had to let each other go, to take a step back and realize it was never meant to last. Despite the overwhelming love you both shared, the relationship itself was unstable. Yuta was changing season, like autumn, his orange leaves fell quickly and eventually, the wind swept him away. But similarly to red stains, it was difficult to wash him out of your life. 

You found yourself wandering along the coastline once again. Yuta often took you to watch the sunsets because the jubilant feeling could only be felt through those colors. It was a place of comfort and reflection.

You planted yourself at the shore, waiting for the sun to hit the horizon. The chilly breeze ate through your shirt. The harsh wind swept you away, but you begged to be graced by the heat of the sun one more time. The loud crashing of waves pierced your ears. There was no comfort, no compassion, no happiness, no Yuta. 

Then, you smelled the sharpness of citrus in the sea salt air. The sun was already so close to the horizon, the sky already being filled with changing pigments, but you couldn’t see it. You didn’t want to tear your eyes away because you wanted so badly to experience warmth again. 

Your name was called and you squinted at the water to see a silhouette waving at you. Your legs moved before you could register who it was. Bringing your forearm up to your face, you blocked the blinding light from your eyes. The water got warmer the deeper you continued, but it got harder to drag your wet dress along. Now, waist high in the ocean, you stopped a few feet from the figure. 

The first thing you saw when he turned around was the beautiful, enticing smile you had been missing all along. You gasped, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. Following the intake of breath, you exhaled all the color back into your world. “Yuta?” 

The orange glow, the slight yellow ombre, the blue disappearing made Yuta seem like a part of a watercolor painting. The sparkling water reflected the same radiance. The wind was kind, compassionate, and overall warm. Hot tears ran down your cheeks unknowingly at not only the sight of color, but at him. 

“Aw pumpkin, why are you crying?” Yuta laughed lightly, but you wished to hear it on a loop. He hurried over to you, his wet hands gripping yours tightly. 

“How long have you been here?” Peering up at him, your eyes trailed down to admire how the water made him twinkle. 

“I’ve been here this whole time.” He twirled you into a hug, melting away the icicles that remained. 

He mumbled something inaudible and pointed out to the sun barely peeking above the horizon. Then, he picked up your chin and you closed your eyes to taste him. He was the combination of the sweetness of marmalade and the richness of a creamsicle. 

But when you reached out to caress his face, it was no longer there. There was no strong build to fall back on when you tried to lean in closer. Opening your eyes, you saw nothing but absolute darkness and your sheets bunched up at your feet. Controlling your breathing, you blinked up at the ceiling. 

You hugged yourself tighter, your arms feeling warm and your heart feeling fuzzy. Licking your lips, there was a hint of him still left. You wiped your wet cheeks and snuggled back into your bed, feeling a little more content than usual. It had to be one of the first times you’ve felt vibrancy in a while, even if you had to dream of him. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that Yuta will always make you feel orange.

[writingsfromstarfleet]

A Problem Shared - Julian Bashir X Reader

A/N: To the lovely Anon who asked for this, I thank you, I adore writing for this lil doctor, he’s definitely one of my favourites, it’s any excuse at this point, haha! I sincerely hope you, and everyone else, enjoys! :)x

TW: Mentions of bad mental health, if this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this one!

Travelling space, seeing the stars, discovering new worlds. All of this to anyone would seem like a dream. And it was, it truly was. Never had you felt more grateful to have the opportunity to study and work in space. Seeking out new planets, carrying out new experiments; it was all in a days work for you, and you couldn't be happier.

Though, while it was truly a blessing to say that this was your job, there were days and weeks where the whole galaxy seemed like it was falling apart.

For years, you had struggled with some issues pertaining to mental health, and it took its toll on you more often than not. Before you enrolled in Starfleet, you had gone through many rough patches, and many unpleasant experiences. The results were lasting, and the damage never seemed to cease. You joined Starfleet, an attempt originally at distracting yourself from your problems, and fell in love with it. After being assigned to Deep Space Nine, you vowed that you would no longer let your internal issues affect you in ways that meant you couldn't do your job.

You'd been on the station for just under a year, and had met and worked with the best set of people this side of the universe. Every single one of them were friends to you, genuine and true friends. Some you were closer to than others, but every one of them meant the world to you. The doctor, Julian Bashir, was one such person who you connected with.

Originally, you found him to be very full on, very facetious. Alas, you realised quickly that you were more or less one in the same. You shared the same interests, had the same sense of humour, and the same palette when it came to food. Slowly but surely, the bond strengthened and before you knew it, you were walking round calling Julian your boyfriend.

That made your situation all the more awkward, and you felt guilty. In the recent days, you hadn't been feeling yourself, and you knew that it was another bad phase that was oncoming, one you had promised yourself you would let in no more. Still, it came. You became quiet, almost avoidant of your peers, which caused them to grow concerned. Not only that, you pushed Julian away, too, spending less time than normal with him. Your friends turned to the good doctor for answers, and were just as shocked to find he had none as he was that you had been avoiding everyone.

Julian didn't understand; you had always been such a happy and free spirit. It was very rare he would ever see you sad, though when he did it was usually a nightmare, or a past memory, or even a bad away mission. All things he helped fix with a good cuddle and words of reassurance. Though, this time, he felt there was something more underneath, he didn't need to be a doctor to see it. This wasn't an ordinary sad spell, and you'd be a fool to try and hide it from him.

All day you sat in your quarters, tears rolling free and fast. You were exhausted, however you weren't sure if it was from the lack of sleep, food, or the amount of crying you had done. Dragging yourself up, you traipsed over to the replicator and grabbed a glass of water and a bagel. Unable to force yourself to eat, you instead sipped on the water, standing against the wall and staring into space, as it were.

The ringing of your door took you out of the trance you were in, and you just stared at it. You couldn't say you were certain who it was, but you had a feeling it was Julian. And if you were honest with yourself, the last thing you needed was a lecture. Feeling bad for even keeping your issues from him, though, your heart decided it was probably best to open the door. Your brain said otherwise, and kept you stood on the spot instead.

"Please, Y/N, don't make me use the override." Hearing his voice sent a rush of calm through you, even in your drained state, and you picked up on the exasperation of his tone. He was stressed. You remembered when he had told you that he wouldn't ever use the override code on your door unless it was absolutely necessary; he saw it as invasion of your privacy. But, even if he did, you couldn't blame him, knowing he must be worried sick.

Silence fell again and the door still hadn't opened. Figuring he had left, you took yourself to your be and wrapped yourself entirely in your blankets, feeling the warmth as somewhat of a comfort. You were between sleep and consciousness, and the sound of the door opening this time caught your attention. You laid still.

"Y/N..." the familiar voice spoke in almost a whisper, and you were met with Julian's concerned face as he knelt before you. You stayed lay down, cocooned within your blanket, and he reached out to run a hand through your hair, concern lacing his face. "What's wrong?"

You sniffed, having no answer. You truly didn't know, you had nothing to say. Your thoughts ran away with themselves, and you felt like you were slipping into past mindsets, something that scared you.

Julian looked down, almost as though he was going to cry himself, and even in your current state, it broke your heart to see. He cared so much, and you still hadn't told him anything.

"Julian," you began, reaching a hand out of the blanket to cup his face. "Come here." It wasn't so much of a statement as a question, your voice hesitant and low. He looked at you with shimmering eyes, and you lifted the blanket up. Julian realised, and climbed in beside you, immediately encasing you in his arms. You buried your head into his chest, arms resting around his middle, and cried. You cried out everything you had left, every single thought and feeling you had running round, and he let you.

Julian knew you needed this, and he lay with you without question. Feeling your crying had ceased, he spoke ever so gently so as not to startle you.

"Y/N-" he began, but you looked up at him and cut him off, not impolitely.

"I should have told you a long time ago," you started, shifting so that Julian could hear your words. "I've struggled with mental health issues for almost ten years now, and I've had a troubled past. Every now and then, it get's bad, really bad. Some days, I can't even leave my bed, some days I can. It hasn't been this bad in over three years, and I got scared, which is why I shut myself off from everyone. I- I panicked, Juli, I didn't know what to do, I-"

You stopped as you felt your head twang in pain and you choked up. Having no tears left to cry, you laid your forehead on his chest again. He stroked the back of your head, running his hand through your hair once more.

"Y/N, listen to me. This, isn't an issue. This isn't something you ever have to deal with alone, it's not a nice experience. You have a great support unit around you, everyone was asking about you and if you were well, you know? They all care. And so do I, as well you know. This breaks my heart to see, the fact that you thought you had to go through this alone. You aren't ever alone."

"I know, but I just didn't want to push my issues on anyone else. I vowed to myself that when I finished at the academy, I wouldn't ever allow these kinds of mindsets to ruin my work ethic, and I guess that didn't work out well, did it?"

Your dry humour made him chuckle; he marvelled at how you handled situations with humour, even when the circumstances were dire.

"You are far too proud, Y/N, you astound me," he chuckled slightly, before returning to his previous seriousness. "In all honesty, you needn't ever have to worry about talking to me with things like this. Not only am I a doctor who's trained to deal with this, I'm your boyfriend, and I love you far too much to let you just suffer. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you com to me? I could have given you a prescription.."

"I- really, I don't know. I just panicked, I never wanted these feelings, these thoughts, to ever come back, and when they did, I didn't know how to react, I'm sorry, Julian."

He wrapped his arms around you again, burying his head into your hair. Kissing the top of your head, he spoke once more, the same softness his voice always carried with you.

"Never apologise, I understand. We are going to work through it, and we are going to be alright. I'll prescribe you something to help in the morning, alright? You have to promise me that this is the last time you struggle alone. Don't hesitate to call on me if you need me, it's why I'm here. I can't stand the thought of you keeping this battle to yourself. We'll win together, we'll get through it. Promise me?"

You managed a smile up at him, your mood already somewhat lifted.

"I promise, thank you, Julian. Somehow, you've always got the right thing to say."

"Anything for the person I love the most. You are never a burden, remember that. A problem shared is a problem halved."

You stayed like that for the night, cuddled into Julian's side as he told you stories of his past ventures to take your mind off things. It worked, and you couldn't have been more thankful. You promised yourself things once again, but this time, you had told yourself you weren't ever going to keep things from Julian. You couldn't break his heart like that.

"I love you, Julian." Your voice was heavy with tiredness, and you felt him smile into your hair.

"And I you, Y/N. I always have, and always will."

You slept that night in content, knowing that any battle you faced was won with Julian by your side. He was your rock, and with him, you were safe.

[minghaoss-archive]

redamancy - jung jaehyun

summary : a prince who finds himself tangled in a forbidden romance.

pairing : nct jaehyun x female reader

warnings :  mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, use of  profanity

genre : one shot, smut, angst.

character count : 26.100 | words : 4.7k (fuck ..whoops how inconsiderate of me)

this beautiful moodboard was made by my very talented friend @jaehyunay

Thank you a ton, my dear.  ♡

listen to the tchaikovsky’s 1 hour loop of compositions and ‘howl’s moving castle’ to enhance your reading experience. (esp. valse sentimentale, swan lake and the nutcracker) 

Jung Jaehyun had developed a peculiar obsession with you from the day he had seen you by a lake near the infamous dirty, unfit, dilapidated brothel. 

You weren’t quite the artist but the man admired the ugly swan which sat against  the gooey mud  regardless. He thinks it’s a fleeting moment that love comes to him, whilst the dim sun shone against your skin and droplets of water collected on your lashes. It was the most foreign kind of beauty he had ever laid eyes upon. Usually, he would see women of luxurious lives, with even more luxurious statuses, with complexities heaped over their simple seeming facade.

They were all calculative, mathematical, everything he despised. They were all pearly whites, golden jewelry, intricate liquidised platinum details on napkins, they were everything that Jaehyun didn’t need. They could not complete the lonely prince even after thousand nights spent with him. No tangling of limbs could grant them his heart, a heart encased by tough spirals of distrust. They were all too complex and mundane.

Thus when in you, he found simplicity, delicate and pretty, he hadn’t the courage to let it pass.  For he had  found art, he had found in you strokes of oil paint, torn excerpts from the classics, in you he had found everything he had ever wanted.

But he was not a commoner, he was no ordinary man who you could let yourself fall in love with. He was a prince. He was woven from a different fabric than you. Your happiness, your melancholy, your good and bad had been worlds apart. Yet why had he brought forth such a burden  in his life? Why had he believed the stars aligned in strings and ropes to bring you two together?

He knew you were a whore and from the way he sat transfixed on his saddle, gawking at you with not much abashedness in his eyes, he did not care much for it.

It was  almost as if he bought you when he asked his most trusted man to take you to the castle. You barely had a say as you looked back at him - the sight still one which is hard to forget. He is not, after all, a man who can be easily erased.

He had his white shirt tucked into khaki colored hand stitched pants, he was in his hunting attire, brown hair falling in messy tresses whilst he stared at you with knitted brows.

Not one day in his life did he succeed in looking imperfect, he was someone  beyond worldly beauty. It was an unfair thing, the way he made beautiful look like the easiest thing to own in the entire universe.

You raised your head when called and there he  looked - like someone out of a painting. “Pay them whatever price they ask.” was his curt command. It was a silly thing, you think,  for anyone to doubt that the brothel could refuse what a prince wanted. Especially when she is a whore.

His back disappeared into the serpentine trail of trees, his ebony skinned horse had become a dot, gallops had muted, whispers had died down, the bustling crowd had become a shell shocked audience and you - you were his.

His best man, perhaps his greatest friend, Johnny, had shot you a sympathetic smile back then just as he did  whenever he would see you. Pitiful he was and never failed to make you feel small. It was an unfriendly thing he did, for someone who was so amicable. You could never look him in the eyes. “He is not a bad man.” He would tell himself more than he would tell you. And you believed him. Like incantations of a religion which ousted you.

“You are thinking too much tonight.” Jaehyun chuckled, watching you sit atop the velvety bed whilst he stroked his paintbrush on the pasty canvas.

One may think he had brought you here to fuck you like his personal whore. But such was not the case.

He did not lay a finger on you yet. He treated you like an equal. He was not common, not ordinary and unlike any other man you had ever met, unlike anyone else in the palace. Maybe that is why you were so drawn to him. He was the only person you knew who hadn’t treated you like a dirty old rag they could pick up and use whenever they wished.

But no one was allowed to touch you, no man could share a bed with you or give you their hearts. Because you belonged to him.  

He had a passion for art, something he was a master of. On days when he would be upset, he would take you to the attic and paint you in forlorn  blue hues and on the days when he was happy, you would be in bright yellow, pastel pink, off white; a multitude of colors.

He was an artist and you were his muse.

“Pardon me, your majesty.” The prince now looked back at you with an amused smile playing on his lips, his glasses sat along the bridge of his nose and he placed the wooden brush down. “Would you stand up for me?” You pushed yourself to your feet and watched as he took steady steps to you.

It was splendid how the buttery champagne glow of ordinary candle lights could make him look outer worldly, much more beautiful than he already was. You could not take your eyes off him, even if you tried. Especially when he undid a button of his nightshirt.

He came forward, forward and forward until there was little space between your bodies. Your heart rung in your ears and your toes tugged into the Kashmiri carpet. Why did he do this to you all of a sudden? Why was he playing with your heart?

You leant back into the bed pillars, red curtain brushed against your skin as he placed his palm over your head, face near yours, breath sending shivers down your entire body.

He stared down at your mouth, offering a peek of his milky body from the narrow split in the shirt, a silver locket hung loosely around his neck, complementing how platinum streaks of moonlight sat against his skin.

His fingers played with the thin knotted straps which held your loose dress up.

Once he caught you looking for too long, his rosy lips parted, glossy from the way the wet muscle of his tongue swiped over it. It is so hard to not kiss him. To hold him. To touch him. To feel him. It was so tempting. 

But you do not wish to ruin your bond. You do not want to know if you are in love with him. He is a prince and after all, you are a whore. There will be no fairy tales written about you two. No stars  will bind you two together.

You are two parts of a world which shall never be abridged. Your story is a tragedy. Not a romance.

So you turn your head away, eyes clamped shut.

Maybe Jaehyun could become every other man you had ever met, maybe he would fuck you into the mattress and leave. Maybe that way you could love him less, maybe that way you could forget him. Maybe Jaehyun would be blurred out of your memory if he lay with you tonight. If he treated you like the whore you are known to be.

But he doesn’t.

He huffed, nimble fingers pull the knots, push it off of your shoulder. Your skin burns from the way he touches you, rough pads of his digits smoothed down your upper arm and his nose brushed along your shoulder blade. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered against your skin as he gently kisses it, sucking in a red rose and licking it over. It is not the first time he had complimented you but it is the first time he had touched you. It was the first time someone had touched you the way he did.

You were accustomed to hunger, not want, not the way his fingers would graze against your skin, like you were delicate antique. All your life you had learnt you were of worthless, cheap but between the gaps of his index and thumb, you found value. You had learnt for the first time that night that love was a tangible thing and you wanted nothing but to hold it in your arms forever.

You bit down on your lip to swallow down a whimper.

“Step out of it …for me.” He dragged the article to your hips, voice incredibly low, like you were a secret he wanted no one to know, his eyes a fantastic dark brown and lustful. 

This had to be the end, you reiterated. Jaehyun would bed with you and he would become every other man. He would not be someone you are gradually falling in love with.

But he had only asked you to lay against his velvety mattress and sat back in his chair, painting you again. “Your Majesty…I do not like that name.” He told you, an outline of  his bulge forming against his pants when your fingers dig into the satin sheets. “Lovers do not call each other in that manner.”

Lovers.

Had he really meant what he said? Lover, lover, lover.

You told yourself over and over again. Afraid it would sound unreal if you had not.

This night was special, different from every other night you had spent with him.

Because every time he would paint you in colors, in ornaments and dresses from his palette but this particular night he had painted you in nude. Bare. Fragile. And strong. All at the same time.

Lost, love struck and reminiscent of last night, you had   found  him on one knee the next day, speaking portions of a conversation you hadn’t heard. “I swear to you as you should to me.” He told his  mother and kissed her hand, the happy in his tone astonished you, it was like a tune you had rarely heard and you could not help but wonder what they had spoken of.

Days when the prince went away  for travel were longer, the nights darker, the sun lurid and the rain more pestering. Those were the days when everybody dropped their facade of kindness. Those were the days the castle was not much different than the brothel.

You had readied yourself for an entire week of melancholy yet as his back descended into the background of cobalt sky, littered with dark clouds; you felt.. unprepared. 

There was something wrong, terribly rotten, in the air, something atrocious, ahead of you that you could not put into words and it was wearing a glossy lavender gown.

 The queen.

She was known to be kind or so you could tell from the way a smile curled around her face.  She was everything you had expected of her..at first glance and she had become nothing you had noticed in the second. 

You wondered if remorse is a luxury too pricey for the rich whenever  she looks to you - with nothing but hatred, like you had earned punishment, like she would not mind seeing your head on a silver platter. 

   "He must marry a princess.“ She beamed at you, with a subtle cruelty masked beneath quintillion layers of primping  “You do know so?” it was something she said to you every time he would leave, something she reminded you of. Like telling you that you could never fit into the glassy shoes of a princess. Every time she would warn you and it was all the same, with a stern whisper. Albeit today,  her words stood in your miserable room like an ugly show piece, they hung in the air like a missed note. Loud they were, like how horses neigh acridly before carriages run over pitiable peasants. You learnt that threat insinuated he must marry a princess soon. Like he had promised her. 

You learn that shock can come to you in mysterious ways, like when your father had granted you a brothel life to earn a shilling, like when you cried the first time a man had touched you, like when you understood why Jaehyun stood on his knee and how he could be king if he had a princess; like just how betrayed you had felt after, shock had come one night and made you weep into your cheap mattress. Shock had reminded you how you did not belong. How you never will.

When the prince returned, you avoided him like the plague. You had no reason to be upset and you would not fall victim to love. 

At least that is what you told yourself when the cruel prince both surprisingly and unsurprisingly did not come looking for you. Perhaps it was what he wanted, to be prince and to marry someone who was not as low, inferior as you. Maybe he wished to erase you like the dirt made swan, maybe he used you for art, to flaunt his own talents. Because Jaehyun had always been beautiful, unreal and unforgettable and you ordinary, very, very real.

You had agreed to join the castle’s maid service. A proposal the queen offered to you with great kindness.

 Heartbroken and dethroned from your unfulfilled dreams, you carried the silvery tray with great attention. Watching  lukewarm water crash against the cream body of the small white cup, like imprisoned wishes, tumultuous and never freed. You wondered  how easily your resolve may wear away when you see Jaehyun. it was the first time you would be encountering him after his depart, after all.

Your dress was a sleeveless lilac like all the other maids and you wore it well with your nullifidian, battered heart, a petal you looked like.

“Brother, dare I speak of the girl?” Hendery spoke with his eyes glued to your back. Infuriated, you furrowed your brows, he hadn’t even spared you a glance despite the tea table being sprawled with paintings of you. Selfish and ruthless, that is what Jung Jaehyun is.

The queen sat with them, nonchalantly chatting away about the town’s people and how she liked her soap. Chats which spoke of anything but your naked body  on her son’s canvasses. Who acted as if the piece belonged where it was.

You wondered if Jaehyun bothered at all when you begun to forward his rose tea, the liquid a brilliant blushing quartz, like the way his cheeks flushed in summer’s heat.

Jaehyun blew at the crisp canvas, a soft hum escaping his pursed lips as he shot the younger prince, Hendery, a glance, urging him to go on. With his eyes still on you, the youngster spoke with a low voice.

“She was a whore.” Crash.  It was no surprise. No matter how hard you tried, you could never rid yourself off of your identity. A whore. it was like a scar which would never heal. The liquid rolled down your dress in unflattering dark purple streaks, “Pardon me.” you winced,  getting to your knees with bruised fingers to gather whatever remained of the poor little cup.

Your hand is pulled forward with a light tug and the sight before you almost made you gasp. Jaehyun had dark rings around his eyes which sucked the warm  brown in them up, his skin looked barren and lips chapped. It was the first time he had looked..human, imperfect and absolutely devastated. 

He parted his mouth, licking off the line of blood which formed around your injured index. You felt flustered when the warm muscle of his tongue swirled around  the bruise. He must loathe you too much for punishing you like this, giving you a taste of him, mocking you, knowing you cannot have him to yourself fully.

You rushed to pull your hand away when he let it go, hearing the unison of clearing throats but again, he dragged it back, this time with a stronger pull. “What are you doing here?” You remained silent, looking away, biting back a sob. Your words begged to be said but you swallowed them down with a hard gulp.

“You informed me of her leave. You told me she was ill.” Of all the emotions you have seen on Jaehyun’s face before, anger was not one of which. He was always kind, smiling and emoting himself in softer ways. The contrast was so alarming that the room fell into palpable, eerie silence. “She is well now, as you see.” His mother replied with a bravery so false and a voice so shaky that you could almost pity her. 

“You told me she refused to see me.” Jaehyun gritted his teeth and sprung up rather ungracefully. The queen now, slightly shaken blinked at her son, attempting to grasp at her words like a sinking ship would to its anchor. “She took an interest in being a maid instead upon hearing your marriage proposal.” She looks to you, lying smoothly through her pearly white teeth. “She could not see herself off before you had gotten married to the princess.”

When he stares at you like you are a traitor, gaze burning into your face, you let the heavy weight called a head hang low. There was no emotion on his typically vibrant, euphoric face, nothing but indifference, phlegm, a barrier.  “Forgive me, my lady.” You turned, broken portions of both the cup and your pride in hand. You took your fingers away from him and this time, he does not stop you.

You do not see the prince for a day, not until the King arrives, not until you are summoned to set up his bath. Something no female was allowed before. It was usually arranged by his most trusted men. No one was allowed the luxury of seeing him bare and it rose immediate suspicion. See, invites of his marriage were being sent out generously to both the commons and elites. No one had see his spouse to be and the excitement of this reveal had thus begun to buzz throughout the entire empire. Banners hug in red and white, rose and the whole palace smelled of rosemary and chicken stew.

You sighed worriedly, avoiding the way everyone looked at you like you were a poor girl being sacrificed to a pagan demon.

Pushing the white, satin curtains away, you took in the enormous bathing room’s rudiments with widened eyes and a parted mouth. It was dimly lit by orange lanterns on each corner, the sapphire glow of moonlight slipping in and letting a waltz of a multitude of colours dance its way into the chamber. It smelled of honey and roses, something that reminded you of your long passed mum. You found yourself smiling, absorbing fond memories but only for a brief moment …because before you, dipped into the opalescent water, sat Jaehyun, with his back pressed against the enormous water body and arms rested on either side. 

“Come here.” He said, face stern and voice sharp, like he was enraged. You placed a basket of his scents and salts and sauntered to the spot he gesticulated you stand in, just across from him.

“Sit.” You almost winced at the harshness of his tone, he spoke to you for the first time with impoliteness and it made your heart ache. “Near the water. Closer.” Had he really forgotten your loving exchanges? Did you really ever know the prince?

“My Prince.” You paused, not wanting your heart to be broken like the time before. If he was not going to be yours, you  did not want to be so close. You did not want to desire him so much. “I am not your prince.” Dots of gold sat against his skin in droplets and his hair fell back in wet tresses. He looked like someone carved him out of ivory and smoothed out every imperfection there is with their very own fingertips- and you, much flawed, wondered if there was a world where he could love you back.

Your toes disappeared into tender circles of water and you watched him make his way to you in long strokes. Much thanks to his long arms. “Forgive me. Callous of me to forget your approaching wedding.” You had not. It was all you could think of. You do not mean to sound bitter. Reminding yourself that indeed, he is not your prince. Even so, you could hardly miss  how the reminder of wedding  was weighing your memory down, grabbing its throat and taking its life. How could you forget when it was the one thing you wanted?

“You might as well forget everything about me.” He mocked you, hands on either side of your hips, you instinctively parted your thighs, letting him slot in between as he pushed the cottony material of your dress upwards.

“We are equals.” A dry laugh escapes  your chapped lips, like they had been glued for an eternity. Lost in a daze, a change in emotions so  very sudden that you succumbed to the urge of running your fingers through his wet hair. Jaehyun took great offense at your cackles but rested his cheek against your bare thigh regardless.

You have always wanted to touch him and tonight just might be the last night that you would be permitted to.

“Why did you join the service?” He looked up at you with a peculiar droop of his lids, an inscrutable haze in his eyes. “Why did you promise to marry?” Ridiculed, he seemed, now with his chin rested and brows raised upwards. “I promised to marry you.” Shock came to you in many ways, like when Jaehyun kissed the wet skin of your inner thighs with a lewd smack of his lips and when he confessed to you, when your heart beat in your ears, when a happy ending raced towards you and you welcomed it with open arms. Like you had known. All your life.

“I do not understand what you mean-”

“I promised to travel overseas to ensure allies in the North, instead of father… in exchange of your hand in marriage.” You blinked rapidly, wondering if what you had heard was real and not imagined. “Father was not very pleased but he conformed finally.” He grinned at you, “I have 20 brothers, after all. i am sure someone else is more befitting.” The prince paused, fingers travelling upwards upwards and upwards, at pace so tantalizing, you scoffed impatiently .

“Your mother…” You sighed, tugging onto his roots as he creates a trail of wet kisses with his rosy mouth. “wanted me to marry into royal blood.” Your breath hitched when he placed a tender kiss to your clothed core. “Father dealt with her, I suppose.” He whispered into your skin, pulling your body into the water with such care that it made your toes curl.

“The person you are marrying soon is..” Jaehyun smiled bemusedly at you, indentations digging deep into his cheeks.  Your hands were pressed against his bare chest, bodies warm and hearts racing. You could swear sanity had swum away from you when his mouth met yours. “You.” He kissed your cheek, your nose, the corner of your mouth and every spot there is on your face. “you. you. you.” 

 His tongue licked into your mouth, hands travelling to each bend and curve on your body. “ I am in love with you.” He learnt you like poetry, like literature and you let him. He parted, stroking your hair back from your face. “The chambers.”

All this time you thought you were his.  You were his from the day he had found you. It was nothing you did not know. Yet when he touched you, stripped from your long, skimpy dress, you discovered a sense of belonging like never before. You were unprepared and flabbergasted when his fingers set your body ablaze with something as simple as a stroke. You were his, true but he too, was yours.

 Jaehyun stared at your naked body with a faint, scarlet dusted on the apples of his cheeks, his lips are parted as his knees dig deep into the sheets. You could see the outline of his cock from under the silky white barrier of a robe, he held your legs apart and hoisted them on either side of his hips. “Do you not want to wait till I become your wife?” You furrowed your eyebrows, words coming out in broken syllables when he licked his index and wiped it along your folds. “No. I cannot..not anymore.” 

He took your interlaced fingers and placed them above your head, groaning against your neck  as he slipped into you. His pendant hovered above your face whilst his hips snapped into yours, noise unholy, unceremonious. You were convinced his name is the only word you know when your insides clench at the lewd sight of your lower stomach bulging with every thrust he delivered. You loved the feeling of being one, like you were never meant to be apart in the first place. You loved being his and he loved being yours. He held your legs up to his shoulders, which allowed him to reach a spot in you which made you feel dizzy.

His forehead creased, pace reduced to sluggish snaps as he said your name into your ear, like sermons, like words to a song he will never forget and  filled your wet cunt up. His hips did not halt, instead they jolted back in, in slow slapping of skin against skin, teeth clambered down on your jugular. Overwhelming your body with so much pleasure, it quaked. Trembling with want, desire and love, love love.

You released with heavy breaths against his open mouth, voice raspy from moans so loud you would have thought the whole kingdom had heard you.

For the first time in Jaehyun’s life, he thinks he felt strong and not fragile when he is bare. He held your body, in sweaty sheets and not felt a bit dirty, he felt enamored, contented and incredibly in love, never to be alone again, to stay  endless nights in the same fashion, in the arms of the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.

[shirophantomvox]

What’s up y’all! Tumblr is literally fucking glitching and certain letters on my keyboard aren't working so I couldn't put in a title. The title of this is: "I Will Always Celebrate My Birthday". Here is another lovely prompt from @vld-prompts . I hope you like it! If these stories seem rushed, it’s because I am writing them before working and I go to school so I have to fit them in some time, right? Anyway, this prompt says: The Paladins learn that Alteans have no concept of birthday celebrations and promptly decide to demonstrate one for Allura, Coran (and/or Lotor.) Happy reading and follow me for more stories!

Princess Allura; the girl that has been to hell and back; took in many “aliens” and trained them to be paladins of the lions. She had experienced tragedy after tragedy but somehow managed to keep pushing. Lots of people looked up to her for hope and support and she never disappointed. It seemed like all she did was work and work and work until she passed out from exhaustion. Once she was so tired that she couldn’t even remember her own age! Wait! How old is she again? 10,000 years old right? No! She’s 10,001 years old! She reached into the drawer in her dresser and pulled out a thin, long gold box that was glistening under the light. She gently opened the box and there laid a beautiful pearl necklace and bracelet. This was a gift from the late King Alfor and Melanor of Altea; her parents. They had always mentioned the necklace as a reward for reaching such an age. You see, in Altean history, when a woman turns 10,001 years old, they take life more seriously. They know that it is time to buckle down; it is time to make money, find a partner, and parent children to follow in their footsteps. The necklace was a reward for her accomplishments. Allura often thought of her parents, wishing that they could see her now. They both would be proud.

Lance and Pidge entered the living room carrying heavy boxes that Coran gave them full of dusty trophies and small knickknacks. They were trying to clean out the 3rd floor so Hunk and Pidge could set up their virtual reality equipment. Suddenly, both tripped and dropped the boxes spilling everything all over the floor. Hey, blame the pearls. They’re THAT shiny.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Allura said running from her chair. She grabbed Pidge and Lance by their arms and pulled them up. “Let me help you pick this up.” Pidge got up, dusted herself off, and returned to pick up the items from the ground. “Lance, could you pass me the cardboard box. Lance? Lance! Are you listening to me?” To Allura’s surprise (not really), Lance was staring at her for much longer than usual. His mouth nearly dropped to the ground as he gave Allura two looks. It must have been some magic in that ol’ pearl necklace. Allura had on a light rose pink dress that exposed her shoulders. A white rose was pinned to her dress. This was apart of Altean tradition; on your special day, you just wore fancy clothes around the house and whenever you went out. “Lance! You’re drooling,” Pidge said groaning in irritation. It was bad enough Lance was slightly lazy but him drooling over Allura slowed her down. “Oh, sorry. S-sorry for staring Allura. Y-you just look prettier than usual. That necklace makes your skin glow.” “Thank you, Lance. I appreciate it.” “Great. Heh-he. Lance, can we finish this now? Hunk and I have work to do.” “R-right. Right” Still love-struck, Lance managed to help Pidge put away the boxes and the rest of the clothes laid on the couch. Lance was right about one thing, she never dressed like this before, why so sudden? “Why are you dressed liked that,” Pidge asked. “Don’t question it Pidge!” “It’s ok. Today is the day I was born 10,001 years ago.” “So, it’s your birthday?” “What?” “Your birthday. Today was the day you were born 10,001 years ago.” “Ah, yes. Right!” “Great! When do we get cake and ice cream?” “Ice cream? Cake?” “You’ve never heard of cake and ice cream?! Wow, your parties must have been lame.” “Actually...I’ve never had any of those...parties. What are they like?” “They’re fun! You have cake, ice cream, and if you’re lucky you get to have your birthday at a venue!” Lance LOVED birthday parties. It was the perfect opportunity for him to get as many phone numbers as he could and for him to talk to his friends about games and live streaming. Pidge on the other hand was an introvert; she liked staying to herself because that was the only way for her to get her work completed. The only person that could relate to her was Hunk and they had similar interests. “Lance doesn’t need any more sugar than what he is already consuming. Pidge pushed her glasses closer to her face as she placed the last box on the table. But I am willing to throw you a birthday party if Lance will help me.” “Of Course I will! Hunk will bake the cake, he can make the ice cream, and Pidge and I will make party favors. Let’s go, team! Mission Birthday Party is a-go.” Lance, being excited about this mission, was so overjoyed that he ran flat into the door. “I’m ok!” Baking a cake was the perfect task for Hunk during this time. Constantly thinking about returning to Earth can and will drive you insane. He and the other paladins have a point--they did not sign up for this mission but they were called upon to carry out a job and they were nearly finished, at last. Hunk had taken bakery classes at the nearby arts and crafts store, NaTalia’s. He had learned how to make birthdays, weddings, and just regular cakes with a quickness. His art form including basic designs and printing edible pictures on the cake. Allura’s favorite colors were pink, white, and dark grayish-blue. Although those colors were far apart from each other on the palette, he made it work. The ice-cream was already made. He decided to make mint chocolate and vanilla to ensure everyone was satisfied. The cake was great and it looked delicious too! The only downside is that the ship’s kitchen looked like a tornado ran through it. Oh well. That’s how you know you accomplished your mission. He topped the cake off with little wax figures of King Alfor and Melanor at the top near the pink rim. He thought this was the perfect finishing touch...hopefully she thinks so too. Hunk gently placed the ice cream and the cake on a pushcart and began to

wheel it to the bridge. The wax figures made Hunk think harder. He was going to remove them. He didn’t want Allura to cry on her big day, he wanted her to be happy. The doors opened as everyone stood to their feet and watched the beautiful cake be wheeled into the room. The edible sparkly pink glitter glistened underneath the room’s headlights. Allura stood to her feet, her hands over her mouth gasping in amazement. Pidge and Lance had made pink and white confetti and by some miracle found pink balloons in the closet. Just when they were going to sing “Happy Birthday” by Stevie Wonder, a few tears began to fall from Allura’s face. Hunk’s smile was instantly wiped away. He knew he should have removed the figurines. “Allura...I-I’m sorry. I thought--” “--No! It’s ok! I love it! Thank you Hunk!” Allura nearly knocked him over with her hug, but that’s ok. It was a warm bear hug; one full of love and joy. “Hey! Where’s my hug?!” “Later, Lance.” “Ooooh,” Pidge said laughing. “Ok, who’s ready to sing Happy Birthday, Keith asked already grabbing a hamburger slider. I’m hungry. “Happy Birthday to ‘ya. Happy Birthday to ‘ya. Happy Birth-day!” The team sang, off-key, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered is they successfully gave Allura the first birthday experience of her life and it is safe to say that she loved it. She was overjoyed with emotion, all happiness. Shiro gave her a few tissues to wipe her eyes with so her eye makeup wouldn’t drip. “Thank you all! I appreciate it very much! I will always celebrate my birthday for as long as I shall live!”

[ct-7386]

Lost and Found pt2

[Continuation of Lost and Found pt1 :)

The warnings on this part are a little more intense, so please be careful, and please let me know if I missed a tag or tagged something wrong.

Also, yes, I named Vada Squad after the U.S. state Nevada - because the youngest trooper of the squad is named Reno (the capital city of Nevada). lol.]

Authors: myself and @cc-4477commanderthire Characters: Commander Thire (them); CT-7386, Vada Squad (me) Word Count: 4k Rating: T+ TW: depicted depression and anxiety; referenced isolation (self-imposed and imposed by others); anxiety/panic attacks; mild dissociation; bullying; referenced past deaths (ocs); referenced assisted suicide; implied neglect

Mando'a Guide: Vor entye - thank you

Lost and Found pt1

The alarm of Thire’s comm beeps insistently to wake him up for his next shift.

86 wakes blearily to the familiar crackling of a comm going off - but something is wrong: he’s being held by someone he doesn’t immediately recognize, and he’s in a room that isn’t his.

He tenses and lets out a quiet whimper, afraid for a moment when all he can remember are different memories, different nightmares. Then the events of the last few hours come rushing back, and he finds himself relaxing back into Thire’s arms. 86 is safe here.

Thire groans and raises a hand to rub over his eyes. He looks down at his vod‘ika, grateful that the other didn‘t bolt in the middle of the night. “Good morning.”

His voice is still rough from sleep and he clears his throat before continuing, “Slept well?”

He, for one, will definitely have back aches and a stiff neck. Hopefully moving around won‘t hurt too much.

86 tries to nod, but pain shoots from the base of his skull up and around to settle just behind his eyes. He winces and sighs quietly, burrowing down against Thire’s sternum. There just isn’t time for a migraine this morning, and he’d rather not be more of an imposition.

But… he did sleep well. “Best sleep in months,” he admits quietly. “Kinda - Kinda sore now, though.”

Thire chuckles quietly, “I second that. I hope I‘ll be able to move my neck properly today.”

Without thinking he brings his hand up and lightly scratches the back of Wren‘s skull, “When does your next shift start?”

They still have some time until first shift because Thire‘s alarm goes off early to afford him some interrupted time to get work done.

86 goes boneless at the light touch, and he lets out a quiet sigh as the pressure in his head melts away. “That - That feels good, vor entye,” he mumbles.

He thinks a moment. “My shift is always -” He yawns, “always from 0800 to 2200 - later if there’s a gala or other event.” 86 frowns slightly. “What - What time is it?”

Thire moves his hand up 86‘s skull to reach different points and replies, “0600, no need to rush.”

He has ordered 86‘ squad to his office in an hour and decides to make himself a little more comfortable until then. So, Thire shifts until his back his straight on the floor and 86 is star-fished above him, “Ah, much better.”

It is a much comfier position than before, 86 realizes, and he gratefully arches his back like a tooka to stretch out the kinks before settling back down. He’s perfectly happy to doze here a little longer, basking in the warmth and comfort of a vod - a friend.

Thire reaches over and sets his comm to beep again in half an hour. He hugs his vod‘ika close once more and closes his eyes.

When it beeps again, he gently cards his fingers through 86‘ hair. “Let’s get some breakfast, okay?”

86 sighs and reluctantly wakes up. All he wants to do is snuggle back into that warmth, but Thire is right: it’s time to get up. He drags himself into a sitting position and rubs the sleep-dirt from his eyes.

“Are we going to the mess?” he asks, voice a little rough with sleep.

“Yeah, I ordered your squad here for 0700. But we should still have enough time.” 86 definitely deserves a warning ahead of time. Though it‘s arguable if half an hour early is really ahead of time.

“You can use the fresher first, I need to check if the Senate‘s still standing,” Thire gestures and walks over to his desk to check his comm on an actual chair.

86 freezes in place, eyes and face suddenly blank. Inside, though, he’s panicking. He even feels slightly betrayed. “You - You ordered m-my squad here?”

It hasn’t been long at all - a few days - since his fight with Cory, since he confessed his original sin to Fox. He doesn’t know if he can face the rest of Vada Squad so soon, doesn’t know what Thire’s intentions are.

“Well, I understand why you acted out the way you did in the Senate. But the fall-out wasn’t fun to deal with, and I need all of you to be civil with each other, even if you dislike each other. That is necessary for the safety of all my men.” Thire understands that this is incredibly uncomfortable for 86 but Vada Squad needs to properly function together, reliably.

But first, “We’ll get some breakfast and then we’ll talk to them. This won’t take long, I promise.”

He gently places his hand on 86’ shoulder and squeezes reassuringly.

86 looks away guiltily. He hadn’t meant to cause more problems for his commander, and he wasn’t even the one who technically started it - but he hadn’t ended it, either, or even brought it to Thire’s attention sooner. This conversation with his squad is, as much as he might hate to admit it, necessary.

(He told Thire he trusts him; now he has to show it.)

He nods and leans briefly into the hand on his shoulder before stepping away to use the ‘fresher. When 86 is finished, he waits awkwardly by the door for Thire.

Thire closes his pad with a sigh; today is going to be a long day. He stands up and stretches until his shoulders pop back into place and smiles at 86, “Let‘s go and get some caff, shall we?”

He leads the way to the cafeteria which is still mostly empty because it‘s almost one and a half hours until the start of first shift. There isn‘t a cue and they can get their breakfast right away. Thire leads them to a table at the back of the room where the Commanders usually sit (when they actually come and eat something other than ration bars).

86 follows quietly. With how early it is, no one even gives them a second glance as they get their food and take their seats. He sits with his back to the wall so that he can see as much of the room as possible - a habit born from before he had his implants and needed to see to ‘hear’ people; now it offers a sense of safety in an environment he’s not entirely familiar with.

Still not feeling terribly hungry, 86 chooses instead to sip at his caf. For once, it’s the perfect temperature right away: just hot enough to sting the tip of his tongue. That doesn’t keep it from tasting awful, though.

“I should - I should try to get the kitchens stocked with proper caf,” he comments idly. “I get better stuff in the - the lower levels all the time.” He takes another sip and grimaces. “Not that - that I really like caf.” Is he rambling a little to fill the silence? Yes. Will he stop? No. He needs something to distract him from the upcoming meeting with his squad.

Thire listens and prepares his food. “I usually steal my caff from Fox‘s secret stash. But don‘t tell him that. Besides, if you don‘t like caf, have you ever tried tea? My Captain once acquired some and it was quite nice.”

He checks his chrono to see if they still have time. 86 probably isn‘t eating out of nervousness so Thire decides to sneak him out some food, for afterwards.

86 nods. “I’ve had tea a few times. Plenty of - of senators prefer it, and many of them like to offer me some while - while I’m translating to help keep me from losing my voice. I have a couple blends that I prefer, but other - other than those, I don’t much like tea.”

His smile is small and a little strained, but it’s honest. “If I were to choose my - my favorite drink, though, it would be Correlian whiskey - and not the cheap stuff. The good stuff, all - all butter-smooth and burn. Alderaani wine isn’t bad either, and Pantoran mulled cider? Perfect. It has - has just a hint of spice to kick your palette, and it’s a little tart to go with the sweet. And - And if you warm it up on a - a cold day, it’s even better.”

He watches Thire check his chrono and resists the urge to ask for the time or check his own; if he doesn’t look, he can pretend the squad meeting is further off than it is.

“You have a fine taste. Personally, I‘m used to rotgut of any kind and enjoy a beer every once in a while,” Thire replies with a smile. He‘s glad that 86 feels comfortable enough to ramble to him.

Thire finishes up his food, “Are you sure you don‘t want any? There is still plenty of time.”

And he knows from experience that it is better not to enter these sorts of conversations on an empty stomach.

86 shrugs. “I’m a - a little spoiled spending all day in the Senate Building -” And the lower levels when he can get down there, but Thire doesn’t know that, “especially around the senators who don’t hate clones. Certain - Certain favors can result in good benefits, too.” He eyes Thire thoughtfully for a moment; he’ll have to get something special for him after all this trouble.

He grimaces down at his tray at the question, stomach clenching. At this point he’d almost rather just be sick to get it out of his system. “I think…” 86 sighs and chokes down a couple more bites of food before pushing the tray a little. He admits softly, “I d-don’t think I can - can eat anymore.”

“That‘s okay, you don‘t have to.”, Thire gets up and cleans their tablets away but bags two bread rolls. He‘ll force feed them to 86 before sending his vod‘ika on a senate shift without having eaten something.

He comes back to the table and together they walk to Thire‘s office. It‘s a couple minutes before 0700 when they reach it.

The knots in 86' stomach tighten as they near the room, and the insides of his gloves are clammy with sweat. 86 sucks in a sharp breath that does nothing to loosen the tight band around his lungs or the tight stretch of his skin over his bones or the anxious stutter of his heart. Standing in the middle of the room, he flexes his fingers; his hands are shaking.

At 0700 sharp, there is a series of precise, even raps on the door. Instantly 86 changes, posture straightening, shoulders relaxing, face adopting an expressionless mask. He looks calm and composed - exactly like the perfect soldier he is expected to be in the Senate Building.

And he hates that this is how he instinctively presents himself to his squad.

“Come in”, Thire calls out. He leans against his desk in a relaxed posture and takes in each of the incoming troopers, “Do you know why I called you here?”

Streak, the sergeant of the squad, waits for the nine other troopers following him to enter and remove their buckets before answering. All 10 pairs of eyes flick to 86, each expression varying. Streak's expression is blank while at least two others look irritated, and the youngest trooper looks carefully bored.

86 pretends not to notice any of it.

"I'm going to assume," Streak replies neutrally, "judging by his presence, that this has something to do with the altercation between Corporals Cory and 86."

One of the troopers who had glared at 86 hisses snitch under his breath, and 86 only barely controls the flinch that runs through him.

“This isn‘t about Corporal Cory or the altercation at the senate a couple days ago.”, Thire replies. His voice is cold as ice and his face is a careful, well-practised mask, “This is about the behaviour I just witnessed. None of you are shinies. Yet, you still act as such.

“You deliberately, without being prompted, discussed a private, internal squad matter in front of a superior officer. And you have shown that you also will do that in front of Natborns. Do you know what that means? It means that you‘ll be decommissioned sooner rather than later."

Thire fixes his eyes on every single one of them. “I had a private conversation with Corporal 86, and I‘ll also have one with Corporal Cory. But the rest of you are apparently no better.” He lets his disappointment be heard audibly.

Streak stiffens and slowly turns to glare heatedly at the trooper who had hissed before. "In front of natborns? Cory, you utreekov! What were you thinking?!"

Cory bristles. "What was I thinking? How is this my fault? 86 is the one who's got a problem!"

86' head ducks just a little, eyes now trained low on the opposite wall.

Thire watches them calmly argue with each other before his eyes. “So, you not only argue in front of superiors, but you also specifically use names so that I couldn‘t possibly save any of you by fixing the roll call afterwards? Congratulations, you‘re all dead men walking.”

Cory snorts and mutters, “Then we’ll be just like the bastard’s first two squads and his batch.”

One of the other troopers, one who hadn’t spoken yet, rounds on him in shock. “Cory!”

86 hears it as if from far away, head ringing, ears staticky. His hands are trembling - all of him is - and nothing but the painful tripping of his heart and constriction of his lungs is real to him anymore.

Vada Squad is not his first, or even his second. On Geonosis, the three survivors of his squad, including himself, had been reassigned to different posts. His first squad in the Guard was killed on patrol - while he was on duty in a different part of the Senate Building. All of that is information available to his sergeant who, with his permission, had shared it with the others. 86 thinks that might have been a mistake.

Words filter back in through the jumbled mess in his brain.

“- heard what he said in Lock Up!” Ah. That would be Ember, a sister and twin to Flare, the vod currently holding her back from punching Cory. “You can’t just - How can you still think that?! It wasn’t his fault!”

“He still killed them!” Cory is being held back by Streak and Waffle, the squad’s other sister. “How can we trust anyone who would kill vode at all? And he’s never here! How can we trust that aruetti to have our backs if he just ignores us all the time?!”

86 stands frozen, drifting numb and apart from the scene in front of him. A low throb is building behind his eyes, and he realizes distantly that tears are slipping down his cheeks, silent and unnoticed. This is why he never came forward, never said anything. He just wanted to keep this from happening… He didn’t want them to fall apart.

“Enough!” Thire‘s voice booms through the room. “Every single one of you is a disgrace to the Guard. I expect you to be better. You will be punished accordingly. Dismissed.

“Corporal Cory, report to my office after shift ends. And I want a serious explanation for your behaviour. 86‘ past won‘t convince me.”

Once the others have filtered out he turns back to 86 and places his hands on the shoulders of the vod. Slowly he guides 86 to sit on the floor and pushes his head between his legs. Softly he begins talking to him, “There you go, you‘re alright. It‘s going to be alright.”

86 focuses on the buzz of Thire’s voice and his own breathing, which is deceptively calm. It takes a few minutes before the numbness begins to fade, melting back from the tips of his fingers and toes back up his limbs until he thinks he might be able to move again.

The moment the numbness fades completely, it releases the steel band around his chest, and he folds in on himself with an actual sob; he’s still shaking, and he can feel his tears soaking the collar of his blacks where they’ve rolled down his neck. He’s a mess.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for - his squad, his part in this disaster, his reaction to it - he doesn’t know.

Thire simply pulls him close and puts 86‘ head in the crook of his neck, “Nothing to be sorry for, vod‘ika. You did good.”

He gently rubs 86‘ back and continues to talk to him quietly. The position isn‘t exactly comfortable, given that they're both in full kit, but he keeps a tight grip on his brother nevertheless.

Just like the night before, it takes some time before 86 has calmed down some. Despite the uncomfortable position, he leans heavily on his commander, not quite able to hold himself up.

“W-What - What happens - happens now?” he hiccups. The hard plastic of Thire’s kit digs into him, but the discomfort helps ground him in the present moment, and he never wants to leave. More quietly he admits, forehead pressed against the unarmored stretch of Thire’s neck, “I don’t know what to do.”

“You‘re not alone, 86. Corporal Cory might be angry and hateful, but some of your squadmates defended you. And that means there is hope.” Thire pauses and lightly scratches 86‘ head.

“Part of the problem is that you‘ve never found each other as a squad. And, I know that that‘s a lot to ask, but maybe try and seek them out a little. For example, that sister of yours who defended you against Cory, I‘m sure she would like to spend some time with you, hmm?”

Thire’s going to seek her out and ask her to include 86 occasionally, he thinks. His vod‘ika isn‘t exactly socially confident, and there is a lot of baggage in his squad relationships.

86 laughs a little wetly, a little more of the tension melting as Thire scratches at his head. “Ember. I - m-maybe. She’s - She’s good. She’s n-never been - never been cruel like C-Cory or cold like Waffle and Tax. Ember and her twin, Flare, they both - they both have s-stopped Cory from being too h-hurtful before, though they l-let the antagonism and - and passive aggressiveness slide.”

He exhales shakily and presses closer. “S-Streak… He’s just bitter. He tried to - to get Cory and I to stop, at first, but when n-nothing changed, he became irritated. The longer he spent with Cory, the m-more he - he subconsciously began to believe what was being said, and he started blaming m-me for how Cory an-and I could never get along.”

“Reno, our youngest, he’s - he’s good though,” 86 admits softly. “Poor - Poor kid just got thrust into the m-middle of this shit. He doesn’t talk to me because he doesn’t want C-Cory and the others to - to be mad at him, too.”

Thire slowly rubs up and down 86‘ back, and hums along soothingly. He‘s glad that 86 is talking to him and listens attentively.

“I‘m sure they don‘t always hang around as a big group, so you can talk a little to the twins, hmm?”

He doesn‘t want to jostle them too much but needs to shift slightly to prevent his leg from falling asleep before he hugs 86 close once more, “Do you have anything you‘re interested in? Something you could enjoy spending your time doing?”

86 makes quiet, thoughtful noise. “May-Maybe. I can - I can try? Talking to them, I mean. It can’t be that hard, r-right?”

He uses Thire’s shifting to remove at least the chest and back pieces of his armor; the edges were starting to dig into him uncomfortably with the way he was pressing close to the commander. 86 relaxes into the hug, and when Thire asks his next question, he flushes and tucks his face against Thire’s neck. It’s so easy to talk to Thire - though that might have something to do with the way 86 feels sort of drunk on the closeness and the friendship and the caring.

“I - I like flowers,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed, “growing them. Other plants too, but flowers mostly. The science is fascinating, the process cathartic, and - and plants make sense. People d-don’t, even though I work with them all day. With plants, I just - I just know when somethin’ will work or not, if it needs more water or light, and they - they don’t want anything from me. Just…” 86’ sigh shudders slightly, and his voice becomes smaller. “I can - I can say no, and they can’t be mad at me. They’re simple.”

86 knows he sounds a little crazy, talking about the plants as if they’re something close to sentient, but to him they are. He wouldn’t know how to explain how he really does just have a knack for the plants he grows - an instinct, even. It’s just how it’s always been.

Thire smiles, “Plants are a good interest to have. Do you have someplace where you grow them yourself?”

Belatedly he realizes that that is probably a threatening question coming from a superior and adds, “You don‘t have to tell me where, and I won‘t go looking for them.”

He reaches up and softly ruffles 86 hair and tucks his vod‘ika even closer. If he could he would hold him close and just never let go again. Hide him from the world and protect him from its cruelty. It pains him physically that he can‘t.

The question makes that familiar anxiety build in his chest again - but Thire’s next words soothe it away. Still, he hesitates before answering.

“I - I do. I found a place out of the way where no one would - would stumble across it, and I found ways to get w-water there without using the Guard’s rations. I… I know some people who were able to - to supply me with various things I might need. And now…” 86 hums, eyes slipping closed again. “It’s safe for me there. I like to - to take my food down there at night after shift, and I - I like sleeping there, too,” he admits softly. “No one who hates me, and I have less nightmares.”

“I am glad you have found something worthwhile to spend your time with. I‘m sure you‘ll also find people in time to share your hobby with you, vod‘ika.” Even though Thire doesn‘t want to, he lets go of 86 and helps him to stand up. “Sadly, shift starts in 5 minutes and we both have meetings to attend to. So I‘m afraid we have to go now.”

As they leave the office Thire stops and knocks their heads together in a keldabe, “I‘ll always be there if you need me or just want to talk with someone. Don‘t you dare forget that.”

86 gratefully accepts the help up even though he finds he doesn’t want to go. For once, he doesn’t want to leave the presence of a vod - the very thought makes him want to curl into himself all over. But he stands up and puts his front and back plates back on, tugging his armor into something straight and presentable for the day.

The unexpected keldabe has emotion swelling up from the bottom of his stomach until it presses against the inside of his chest, throat, eyes until he wants to cry all over again. This is what it’s like to be wanted. He’d very nearly forgotten.

He leans hard into the keldabe, eyes scrunched shut and breath stuttering harshly as he tries to control his tears. “Vor entye,” he breathes. 86 blinks rapidly as he draws back and musters a smile. “I - I’ll try not to forget. And i-if I do, I’ll…” He squares his shoulders, helmet tucked under his arm, eyes glinting determinedly, “I’ll f-find you, sir. Promise.”

86 relaxes, smile coming back a little stronger and brighter - truer - than before. Then he turns and begins making his way to the Rotunda. They really will be late if they don’t hurry.

Thire smiles after him before turning around and walking to his own first meeting of the day.

[certainempatheticturkeymuffin]

Age of Calamity Review

Hey! I wasted three hours of my life writing this in Arlo's comment section and part of it had to be cut out because of Youtube's word limit, so y'all get to suffer with me.

Here's the video that I wrote this on, give him some love, his opinion is a great juxtaposition to my own!

There are a few weird formatting errors because tumblr wants me to make new paragraphs, but there's no missing words as far as I can tell.

_

I like it, but I like the first one better, mainly for the appearance. I don't know why, but the pop ups are hard for me to see (by pop-ups I mean the challenges and weak point meters, the out of battle menu is actually pretty good, though I admit the text is a little small on the opening screen), and the lack of saturation makes it hard for me to see. Actually, that might be it, I just don't like the paler color palette in this context, since for a fast paced game I kind of need to be able to see, which I can't because I'm partially blind, and glasses have a glare that's an annoying trade off. Compare that to the original Hyrule Warriors, the weak point meters are brightly colored and change color the more you damage it, which is good for those with visual impairment who need some extra feedback to judge their next actions. The menu was also this aged tan color which provided a great contrast that wasn't the blinding white on top of dark blue, which wasn't bad at all, but the buttons and text were always big enough for those with visual impairment to see, though I will admit that the little pop ups with all the people crying out for help have a bit of the same issue as AoC. I think I just like the more vibrant colors of Hyrule Warriors in the context of a faster game, rather than the pale beauty of BotW, since my eyes can't really see what's going on if the colors aren't at least comparable to what you'd find in Minish Cap or Triforce Heroes. I can see fine in BotW during the day time, but at night, well, I just run and hope for the best, trying not to get killed by an electric keese, which is also a problem in AoC, mainly Zora's Domain; I could barely see a thing and it negatively impacted my experience.

I've got hundreds of hours in HW, and maybe five or ten in AoC. It's mainly because I just don't like how it looks. I've heard a lot of people say that it looks pretty much exactly like botw and...I have to disagree. A lot of areas are pretty perfect, but some, like the tower, are just a little off in a way I can't describe. That's a personal irrelevant nitpick though, but it negatively impacted my experience, so I thought it was worth a mention, the tower on the opening screen always annoyed the crap out of me, every time I see it I just want to exit the game because ew.

The gameplay is fine, and thank goodness for the addition of the meditation room, there's not a feature like that in the original, so I had to play the first stage over and over again to figure out new combos, I think Mipha is my favorite hero that I actually unlocked (though I've been wanting to play more just to see if I can control Revali and Teba like I can Fi (which makes her insanely good since her wide area of movement is the only thing you need to account for)), and I think Zelda is my least favorite, since she's a little clunky for my taste (Daruk is too, but his rolling makes that more bearable). I was a little disappointed with Impa, but her seal thing is kinda like Zelda's and Fi's thing in Hyrule Warriors (there are probably stronger connections, but I'm not experienced with every single hero), and I think it was just the hype that she got. She's not the type of character I like to play, since Zelda and Fi are my favorites, speedy and nimble area clearers (Sheik and Marin are cool too, I just have less experience using Marin, and Sheik is always a B pick since I find them a little harder to control with less area of impact), which meant that Mipha, a character I admittedly was never attached to, became one of my favorites in the game. Impa wasn't an area clearer for the most part, she had a few moves that could do that, but she was mainly a boss-killer to me, Mipha though? She's great, set up a few waterspouts and everything dies.

I do like that they've lessened the kind of ridiculous amount of items that were in HW, and that they didn't try to strong arm fairies in, because that system was the most annoying thing in the world and so poorly explained that I had to watch the same tutorial three times over about once a month because it was so convoluted.

I do hate the runes though, I just, couldn't seem to use them right. It might just be me, but I found trying to use them weird. It's a little hard to explain, but it's probably just a me thing. Not only that, but I found the inclusion of the rods on top of the runes annoying. The rods were entirely unnecessary if you were going to use runes. They just added another layer that was thin at best, not to mention that I found them hard to use as well. I hated the weird controls of the targeting system. I don't think there's anything wrong with a basic hack and slash, and if you're not going to have the excessive amount of items, runes were a good idea i think it might've been a me issue, but rods? It seems a bit excessive. It's probably just a "you'll get better with practice" kind of thing, which, fair, most people can't use Fi like I can, so that makes sense. I figured it was worth a mention anyway since the runes were a constant source of annoyance and I used the rods twice before never bothering again because I hated them so much.

I do like the addition of healing from food drops whenever you want though. In the original if there was a dropped heart but you were at full health, sucked to be you, going back for it when you need it would waste time. The plot is still as weird as ever though (from what I've heard from other videos and such), which is fine, since I tend to play my favorite levels over and over rather than actually do anything plot relevant (can you believe that it took me over a year to finish the story of HW because I kept getting distracted by letting Fi and Zelda mow down everything in the Adventure maps and challenges? I literally got the boomerang like six months after

getting the game. It's perfect for people with ADHD I swear) though I am extremely disappointed with the fact that they took the cheap way out, it's a kid's game and a nintendo game, what did I expect? For them to let everyone actually die? Nope...though honestly, I can't comment on the overall amazingness of the plot they went with because...er....I only did Mipha's and Daruk's stages before just losing interest, so I'm not the person you want to ask about any story criticism, because that would be pure conjecture and utterly pointless.

The customization of heroes, now that's great. It's a weird system that I needed to google a lot for, but it's absolutely brilliant and I love it. Sure, getting the specific seals I want is a little annoying, but it's a great mechanic and I love it.

I probably should've said this earlier, but I'm comparing it mainly to Hyrule Warriors rather than BotW because AoC's a Warriors game and thus plays more like Hyrule Warriors than BotW, and BotW has a different set of standards due to being an open-world game. I'm still salty about the plot though, so I guess there's your comparison.

Also, I absolutely ADORE the fact that you can track materials. Not having to google which stage gives me which material is just the best. And the fact that the side quests have little blurbs, absolutely fantastic. We didn't get that in HW, but then again, once you finished the main story, the rest was just, Have Fun and Kill Everything, which is great, and I love it, but adding in a weird ingredient fetching quest with a nugget of lore is kinda cool. I don't wish we got it in HW though, since, as aforementioned, there was no way to track which material came from which stage, so that would've made it a nightmare.

The Divine Beasts....I hated them, they were literally just time wasters, and, granted I only did Rudania and Ruta before dropping the game, I just hated them. The UI was horrendous and even Ganon's Fury was better, and I absolutely DESPISE Ganon's Fury. Once I finished them, I was just happy for them to be over and never bother with them again. I hated their controls, I hated the cramped paths, I hated how I couldn't really turn and see anything, and honestly, I commend the champions for being able to control these bulky slow and absolutely horrible machines.

On the music, I think it's good. I loved BotW's soundtrack, I loved Zelda 2's soundtrack, I loved Wind Waker's soundtrack, I loved Cadence of Hyrule's soundtrack, I loved Hyrule Warriors's soundtrack, I loved Minish Cap's soundtrack, Triforce Heroes, Spirit Tracks (you're lying if you say otherwise, this soundtrack is a bop and I will actually fight you), etc etc, and this one is no different, though I will admit it did a pretty good job of having me ignore it, though that may have been more due to my frustration at the rods and runes and Zelda and Daruk more than actually having an unimpressive soundtrack.

Personally, it didn't do much for me, I can't get over the color palette, the mechanics, the divine beasts. I had pretty average, maybe a bit high, expectations, but they weren't quite met. I played it for a few hours one day, dropped it, picked it up again a few months later, then remembered exactly why I dropped it. I think the original Hyrule Warriors is just better visually for me, even if the plot isn't great or it's a bit fanfictiony, it had depth in combat that didn't absolutely annoy me, and the annoying battles were usually optional, and the bosses had variety, which is a fault mainly of BotW and was just an inherited problem for AoC, and I'm not a completionist, I don't want to have to complete anything with Darunia or Cia, so I don't unless I have to to progress something, which means that I don't stress about the gargantuan amount of content in HW.

IN SUMMARY: I've never had problems with frame rate (though I play docked due to visual impairment), and if you're visually impaired, wear anti-glare glasses because the pale colors aren't going to help much. I haven't found an option to make text bigger. The soundtrack is good,

there isn't much boss variety (not AoC's fault, but it's still there), the meditation room is great, the runes take a bit of getting used to, as do the rods(i never got used to them), Divine Beasts tank performance in all aspects and are just disappointing, you actually know which stage drops which item, and there's no My Fairy (which is definitely a positive).

To slap on an arbitrary rating that only means something to me: 4.5/10

It's a good game if you can get passed the issues that bug ME to no end.

And there we have it. There goes....holy crap I spent three hours on

I wanted to like this, I really did, and I'm glad others enjoy it, but as it stands, I'll let y'all move on to Age of Calamity, and I'll stick to my handy dandy Hyrule Warriors ice cream with a dash of Breath of the Wild, a sprinkle of Cadence of Hyrule, and a Zelda 2 cherry on top. It's not like I have to wait long for Subnautica; hopefully that doesn't disappoint me too much, I preordered this one. Actually, I get Pokemon Snap today too, hopefully it isn't a SwSh level disappointment, AoC is magnitudes better than SwSh at a 4.5

this????? Three hours of my life. Gone.

[weird-incarnate]

Angel.exe: Emotions Suck, First Kisses Do Not

Tw: None, I think, this is mostly fluffy

Afton has trouble understanding emotions, Valentine understands that pain. She guides him a bit in the adventure of emotions. 

This is so self indulgent omg

It had been a couple weeks since Valentine had her last interaction with Damien and Afton had saved her life. Afton stayed by her side for the most part but sometimes he would disappear from the house and come back later explaining he got a call from a patient he needed to assist. Valentine thought nothing of it. It wasn’t the most important thing on her mind. The most important thing on Valentine’s mind was how the man seemed to fumble emotionally with the new experience of being with her. He wasn’t mean, far from it. In fact, he was so far from it, he barely expressed emotions at all. Valentine knew he had some hang ups, by the gods so did she, but Afton… Afton was about as guarded as you could be and for some reason, Valentine felt like it wasn’t on purpose. Maybe… He didn’t understand emotions? Maybe he was more like her than she thought… 

She rolled around the kitchen in her wheelchair looking for a snack. It was actually pretty late at night and Afton had left earlier that day. Mortus had gone to work at the bar and wouldn’t be coming back for presumably another hour. Valentine got lost in her thoughts and began thinking about when Mortus found her nearly a millennium ago. She didn’t understand emotions back then either and it took a lot of work and time to get where she was now… Maybe that’s what Afton needed, a guiding hand. 

After pondering for a moment she pulled out a wine glass and poured herself some wine. Valentine had forgotten what heaven’s wine tasted like but in all honesty she didn’t care. She wanted to get at least a little drunk tonight if she was gonna be alone and thinking about her past. Not the healthiest way to cope in all honesty but she didn’t have any better ideas. She did her best to navigate to the living room with her wine glass, trying not to spill. She managed it quite well and after setting the wine glass on the coffee table, she shifted to the couch. 

It was dark in the room, with only the glow of the T.V. illuminating anything. She took a sip of her wine, smiling at the bitterness, before unpausing her video on the T.V. It was a makeup tutorial and while Valentine didn’t wear makeup unless she was to be at the bar that day, she liked watching all the pretty makeup palettes get shown off and see people’s creativity. Stuff like that just made her smile. 

After about two more tutorials, she heard the front door open and looked over expecting to see Mortus, but instead was greeted with Afton standing there. He looked at her sitting on the couch and awkwardly closed the door behind him. “When did you get a key?” Valentine asked, curious at how the man was able to let himself in. 

“Oh, Mortus let me make a copy after you got hurt,” He responded, matter of factly. He moved over to the couch and sat down next to Valentine. Well next to Valentine was almost too much credit. He sat as far on the opposite side of the couch as he could. Valentine looked at him curiously. For a man who admitted he loved her, he was near terrified of touching her in any way. Good thing Valentine was already down two glasses of wine and her inhibitions had been lowered slightly. This would give her a chance to ask the questions she was curious about. 

“Hey… Afton?” She started curiously, “You know how you said you loved me right?”

“Yes?” Afton replied, his voice wary. 

“Do you know what… love is?” 

“. . .I don’t really understand emotions much. . .” His voice sounded defeated as he answered. He looked at Valentine analyzing her carefully. Valentine hated and loved it when he did that. 

“Then… Do you want me to explain them?” She questioned looking at him with genuine compassion in her eyes, “I can start with what love is.” 

“Please?” He asked quietly. Oh. Was he ashamed for not understanding? Valentine, the softie that she was, looked at him warmly, and reassuringly placed a hand over his, setting down her wine glass. “Well… Love is… when you care about a person really deeply. And you want to protect them and cherish them. Family can love each other, friends can love each other, but the way I love you is… I want to hold you, and spend time with you, and do things couples do because you matter to me… like a lot,” Valentine rambled out, not really sure if he was understanding what she was saying. 

“Can you explain… sadness to me?” Afton said, making Valentine believe she was heading in the right direction. 

“It’s… painful, to be honest. Sadness feels like you’re hurting. It’s usually caused by you being hurt by someone you care about, or maybe you lost something important to you.” 

“I… was sad…”

“Sad about what??”

“I... thought I lost you,” Afton repeated the words he had said when she first woke up after Damien’s attack, “It made me feel… really sad. I didn’t like seeing you like that… I thought you were…” Dead. Oh my god, he’s been sad and he didn’t understand the pain he was feeling all because Valentine looked like she had died. 

“Afton… Oh my gosh, Afton, I’m so sorry I thought… I didn’t think you…”

“Did you think I didn’t care?” 

“No not at all! I just… Didn’t realize how confused you were… I’m so sorry,” Valentine looked at him with remorse in her eyes. She wondered if he understood it, or if he believed her. Sitting there, on the opposite end of the couch, Valentine felt so guilty for not realizing earlier. 

Shaking her head, Valentine swapped back to her wheelchair and wheeled over to her room, Afton standing up and following her. 

“I forgive you, you don’t have to go to your room,” Afton spoke, sounding confused. “No, I’m looking for something for you. To help,” Valentine responded, digging through a filing cabinet in the corner of her room. After a minute of struggle, she found the item she was looking for. A chart with different emotions on it, with each emotion labeled with what it was supposed to represent. Valentine looked at it fondly. It was the first thing she had used in her clinic to help people like her who didn’t understand emotions that well, and now it would help Afton. 

“Here,” Valentine stated, handing the sheet to Afton. He looked at the sheet, reading over it quickly before it seemed to click what it was for. 

“Oh…This… helps a lot actually…” He slowly responded as his eyes scanned the chart repeatedly as he took in the new info. Afton stopped and pointed at a small icon, a face with hearts around it. “Love… looks like you.” 

“W-What?” Valentine responded confused.

“Love looks like you, because you look at me like this a lot,” He stated matter of factly. Valentine blushed deeply, looking at the chart, before looking at him.

“You look like the apathetic one.” 

“You can’t even see my face. I’m wearing a plague mask.”

“Fair,” Valentine giggled, wheeling back into the living room. The video had autoplayed to some couple’s vacation vlog. Was Valentine very typical and basic? Yes but she didn’t care. It made her happy. 

Afton joined Valentine back on the couch, reading through the chart, but he stopped and watched the couple on the screen. They were currently on a beach, showing off the sunset, and kissed on the screen. Valentine cooed at the romance of the scene, smiling happily. She was a hopeless romantic by heart and couldn’t help it. She didn’t notice Afton had grabbed the remote for the T.V till it paused. 

“Hey!” Valentine cried out looking at Afton, pouting, “I know it’s gushy romantic stuff and you’re not fond of it but-”

“I want to do that,” He said, pointing at the screen, where the frame had been paused on the couple’s kiss, “It’s called kissing right? I want to do it. With you.”

Valentine would’ve laughed at the fact he needed to specify he meant with her, but her face was bathed in a deep red blush as she looked at Afton in shock. Was he… Initiating their first kiss?

“I… I would love that Afton but uh… You need to move your mask for it,” She stuttered out, wanting to smack herself for sounding so dumb. There’s no way Afton would move his mask right? He hated removing it and he had only moved it once before when Valentine had asked to see him smile. He had sharp teeth which made her assume he was some sort of supernatural, but she was not complaining one bit. Oh god what would that feel like in a kiss?? Oh crap she really wanted to kiss him now. “Hm…” He hummed to himself analyzing the blushing Valentine before him. He lifted up the bottom of his mask just enough and smiled showing off his teeth to her once again. He could see her squirming slightly, before she turned to him and pulled herself close to him, looking at him once more. 

“Do you know what you’re doing? Like… Do you know how to kiss?” She asked shyly. 

“No not at all. But I learn quickly,” He stated, grinning goofily, before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. It was awkward at first, which Valentine expected, but once she moved her mouth a bit and guided him, he actually wasn’t half bad. He pulled back a little too soon for Valentine’s preference, but from the glimpse of his face she could see, he was blushing furiously. Dropping his mask back into place, Afton pulled Valentine into his arms and settled her on his lap, something he had also picked up from watching T.V and videos with Valentine but would refuse to admit. Valentine looked up at him happily, her pink eyes glowing in the darkness and his purple glow mixing with it. 

“I… quite liked that…” He said, his voice sounding almost soft. 

“I… did too…” She replied snuggling into him. Valentine took a risk and reached up, shifting his mask slightly so she could see his mouth again. He understood and leaned down to meet her in another kiss… That is until the lights to the living room flipped on.

“Alright! Break it up! Not on my couch!” Mortus yelled, clapping his hands to get their attention. Valentine yelped as Afton quickly shifted her out of his lap and onto the sofa, fixing his mask during the process. Valentine complained and looked at Mortus, throwing swears across the room as Afton sat their nonchalantly staring at the wall. As the two other doctors argued, Afton smiled to himself under his mask. He understood what love was. And by god, did he love Valentine back. 

[metellastella]

Mao Mao Pride Week Prompts, Part 3

A continuation of the prompts put out by @maomaosmother Part 1 https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/621726687992872960/hello-everyone-happy-pride-month-to-all-of-you Part 2 https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/621834183114932224/mao-mao-pride-week-prompts

7. Marriage

“But first,” Mao’s sister clapped her hands together, “I wanna talk weddings some more!”

“Right on!” the badger agreed. He whooped. 

“Oh good grief,” Mao rolled his eyes. “Fine. You two can chat with the king about the possibility. And I reiterate. Possibility. When you’re ready to make good on your promise, come find me.” 

She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Fine. Be the usual stick in the mud. Don’t know why I’m surprised.” 

He grabbed a few more things off his plate and left. 

“So,” she sat back down, “I guess if you favor men, the animals here didn’t have to petition for marriage laws to be amended, huh?” 

”Correct.” the lion replied. 

“Though some thought I was … ironically … being ‘biased.’ Oh well. Can’t help that. Royal power is absolute, for better or worse. I’ve traveled to other nations and, during debates, have suggested that they not use the term ‘marriage’ as I have. Law is, at least in some peoples’ opinions, supposed to be ‘secular,’ and not ‘religious,’ anyway, so why cling to a specific term that isn’t? Simply afford all the exact same rights to civil unions or domestic partnerships. Or make up a third designation. Much easier to get it passed that way. Bypasses a whole lot of entrenched resistance. People can hash out in their own communities what to do with the non-legal angles and rituals and what to call it. But for a ‘marriage’ certificate? What, after all, is a rhetorical difference, in the end?” the diplomat and statesman snapped his fingers. “And like that, less angst for absolutely everyone involved. It’s not always that easy to reconcile or find middle ground. I can’t think of practically any other issues where simply altering one single word could have that effect. Despite a couple of decades worth of rhetorical experience under my belt.”

He sat back, and interlaced his paws contentedly. “Some countries insisted they were still going to adjust tax breaks because of the very unlikely event of children. Unless surrogates are involved, and properly registered as such, to try to avoid wrangling over child custody. That’s a whole other kettle of fish to get into, obviously.” 

She nodded. “Well like Mao said, I’m not here to talk politics. Let’s hear your fantasies about the most important day of your life!”

The badger shook his head. “Well it’s not like that for everyone, but don’t get me wrong, I wanna hear, too!” he said excitedly. 

“Erm … “ the lion looked down. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“It’s just … I’m more enthusiastic about the idea than Mao, but I’m still a long way off from that myself. So, I don’t want to insult you by making you think I’m further along, just because I have envisioned a marriage … regardless of who the groom is.”

She frowned a little, thinking. “All right then.”

“But I would love to hear about some of your customs, in that event.”

Her face fell some more. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

“Oh?”

“The homeland, though the majority is plenty accepting of pairing in general, has not approved marriage between men,” she said, “so any customs you applied to each other or one of you … might be seen as disrespectful. For example. Would Mao dress as the woman, since he’s chosen to sub? Not only do I think he would never, ever do that …” she looked at the badger for confirmation.

He shook his head, “Oh most definitely not.” He thought for a second. “Maybe that’s why he got up out of here, for that matter. He thought we were gonna suggest doing that. We’ve been to weddings like that. Again, a little like misgendering, no? Even in the rare cases where he gets a mind for it, he’s not at all like a typical sub.”

The badger paused. 

“He doesn’t really fit in when I would hang out with other subs. One panda I met just could not wrap his mind around Mao. It was kinda funny. Irritating for him, though. I would be totally down for dressing like the female counterpart in a wedding, if it were me. I’ve pictured it both ways. Maybe even a costume change in the middle?” he waggled his eyebrows. “Or whatever my partner wanted? If a polar bear gave me any direction I’d melt under his strong paw,” his gaze unfocused, and he hummed appreciatively. “Tuxedo? Coming right up. What color? What style? White wool tunic and stole, as is customary for you big guy? I’ll match you! Usus? My Ursus. My dear ursine. Coemptio? Confarreati? Gown? Dress? You got it, my bae bear. I’m male, sure, but a lot more loosey-goosey in that way. But. It’s not me.”

He sighed romantically. 

“If I understand Mao,” the lion said slowly, “in general, he’s less sentimental, at the very least in expression, so maybe it’s simply that he doesn’t get as wrapped up in it as you or I would.” 

The badger shrugged. 

“Also, women tend to get more excited about wedding planning. Not a hard and fast rule of course, but I think we’ve established that you and I have a lot more in common with women, so it makes sense we’d be more enamored, even if it didn’t necessarily need to be that way.”

The badger slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah, wow. How could I not think of that!” He put his paw down and gestured towards her. “I mean this whole conversation we've had a vibe and Mao has seemed the odd one out, gender wise, but I didn’t consider that.”

The badger went on, “Even without a wedding on the table, which is usually headed up by women in this part of the world, it’s often awkward in the first place for a typical guy to be in a room with all women and vice versa … so this visit has kinda been like that for him, I think. I mean, Mao’s always eager enough to go to a wedding, excited about hitting on and dancing with some ladies, and all, but that doesn’t mean he’d necessarily enjoy planning one. He might even leave it all up to you even if he was totally ready for it!” 

The three femme animals spent the next few hours discussing flower arrangements, color palettes, the band of tolerant aristocracy he would invite, and who among the clan would approve enough to come. That was hard for the sister to get through, as she thought of those she loved who would refuse to give their blessing and ‘miss all the fun.’

8. Self-Acceptance

Mao threw up his hands in exasperation. “This was different than anything anybody knew of. Other clans’ elders who had wielders hurt badly were brought in to consult. We wielders can be slammed around by dragons, can be thrown into the ground and make craters, and walk away. With lesser wielders, bruises could be shrugged off and healed. But SOMEHOW, the universe had, like a homing pigeon bent on mouse’s blood, found one little chink in our armor. . . . Delicate tails aren’t resistant enough to damage to withstand direct crush force. Some of the visiting canine elders spoke of a time when groups of semi-sapient non-magical hunting dogs had their flowing, floppy ears or long tails surgically cropped to keep them from injuring themselves on hunts. To potentially avoid something like this happening again … by cave-ins, like mine, by boulders hurled by some types of dragons, even just being stepped on by a dragon big enough …  Should all wielder animals, intending to fight these beasts … should every species with long tails start doing this removal with our children, they asked? With consent, of course. Like removing tonsils or primates removing the appendix? Lizards probably couldn’t do it, because their slanted gait was too dependent and their tails too heavy. So maybe just the tips? Surely the thicker parts of their tails withstand something like this? They asked. The elders of felines and canines and rodents and otters … the later they waited to dock tails in a trainee’s life, the more they would have to adjust to the missing counterbalance just as I was. They swarmed me and questioned me about it relentlessly. They were asking among themselves … What age would this terrible offered choice be appropriate?”

His green eyes widened in horror at these questions. As if he needed any more psychological stress after being temporarily crippled, he seemed to have altered the entire course of history with the way clans viewed preparation for wielder heroes.

“Inwardly, I felt like …” he once again tried to force the words out he had started before. “I felt like I was causing an implosion of the whole clan. The tranquil meditation spaces were overrun with visitors. Children still hid from me. Our elders argued over whether they should move me for the duration of my recovery, from the clan’s circle. They argued over what to do about the little ones. But didn’t I deserve to feel safe, too? Of course I was ripping everyone apart! It was what always happened when I was around! When we were all younger, and my sisters occasionally came to my defense from one another or dad, I felt it was somehow my fault they argued, too.”

Even if the elders made these new procedures for children voluntary, he would still be virtually ‘responsible’ for possibly unneeded selective surgical alteration of innocents.

“Blue says that’s common, for bullied children to feel like it’s their fault.”

He looked towards the door, probably thinking of the dog’s unruffled voice of reason.

“I try to listen to him. I try to like myself. B-but I … it seemed l-like my family w-was disintegrating because of m-m-me. And my stupid ‘mistake.’ The whole world of wielders, even! Sometimes it still does, when they visit …! Arguing over father’s treatment of me. Remember when my sister said she wasn’t sure starting arguments over lesser wielders was worth unsettling future heroes? Now imagine what I was thinking when the little ones didn’t feel safe in the circle of the clan because of me. I was drowning in self-blame and the only way I felt I could escape it was to work harder, push myself more, and get away from there.” 

Could Blue even help him out of this? The lion pictured him like a seeing eye dog this time, trying for all the world to lead the black cat out of such darkness. 

Bonus:

From my second story, Outnumbered. Tanya sashayed around the red-caped cat. “Hello Mittens.” “Tanya I swear if you do not stop calling me that, I’m going to use the wrong pronouns for you,” the cat threatened. “Touchy, touchy,” the tanuki tutted teasingly, but her normally chipper attitude got a dent in it. “As if that’s an even trade, anyway.” The masculine magic cat said gruffly, “Maybe not. But I’m tired of you mocking me without consequences. Just because that’s the only thing that ever gets under your skin is no fault of mine. Perky little miss.” She rolled her eyes. “So, you try to make gendering me correctly even sound derogatory. No wonder I broke up with you.” The cat’s fists tightened, but he spoke cooly. “If you can’t handle all this. I’ll just find someone who can.” 

“Like the king you’re serving as a bodyguard to?” the fox-like animal said in a silken tone. “The only kind of lion with no birth mane. Are you a chaser, you dog?” “First off. No. How dare you. Targeting gender non-conforming animals may not be officially dishonorable, but as a concept, it is,” the samurai bristled, “We’re not involved, and we’re never going to be. We’re not attracted to each other, as my nose could clearly tell if he was. Second of all. Since when do you have something against dogs?” “It’s an expression.” “An expression that’s derogatory towards dogs,” the cat sneered. “I can’t imagine the blue therapist dog could be less like that. It’s like ‘sexist pig.’ The yellow pig back in Pure Heart would be crushed if he ever heard someone utter it. Yet outside that nice little paradise, it’s a common saying. King Snugglemagne is having to adjust mightily to the outside world. You may be used to it, steeped in it, but for magic’s sake, stop teasing him about it.” “Oh, a king can’t take a little hardship?” she said lazily. “Of course not, he’s been ensconced in his fancy-pants palace. Now that he has an idea of how it is for everyone else, he crumples at the slightest trouble. Sorry I can’t muster up enough energy to care.” “You should care. Given that he has the same problems you do.” “With pronouns? Puh. Since I’m a roaming outlaw,” the orange animal said flouncily, “I don’t expect either other crooks or enforcers I encounter to respect that my gender doesn’t match my body’s smell. The former doesn’t even respect the law, so why should I take that personally? And the latter are more focused on getting me behind bars. So, no, not my problem. Too much of a bother.” “If you settled down, and got a respectable job,” the cat pointed out, “Established yourself as a constant presence, people would probably collectively accept you.” She laughed derisively. “Oh no, I value my freedom far more than that, Mi-” she swallowed back the nickname. He laughed just as derisively. “I see you do value my word on the matter, though,” he said suggestively. “Are you just not as tough as you make out, or do you still harbor some feelings for me, my sweet little illusionist?” 

She opened her mouth, but then shut it again. 

“You slippery mirage master,” he said “you do, don’t you?”

He paused. “Hm. ‘Master,’ maybe I should say ‘Mistress’?” he amended. “There’s . . . really no good choice there,” she chuckled hesitantly. “There are ‘Head Mistresses’ at some schools in Snugglemagne’s kingdom,” the cat pointed out. 

“Yes but . . . still has connotations. I don’t break the law that way,” she said, normally carefree attitude wobbling. “Even I have standards.”

“Hasn't stopped you from dangling the offer to get what you want,” he said. 

She blushed.

“Yeah, word gets around,” he went on blithely as she uncomfortably gripped one of her arms. “Don't know why I should be surprised that playing with hearts isn't beneath you. But more to the point. I know you’re ultimately reasonably principled in that arena, if really flirty. You ever want to get back together, babe, the invitation is open,” he winked. 

“And endure your jealous behavior again? I think not. I’ll file that away with other useless knowledge,” she said icily. 

“Oh that’s not like you,” he said in a low baritone. “You’re sweet to everyone, even if they can’t catch the mocking tone sometimes.” “Not everyone’s as smart as you, cupcake.” He looked caught off guard by the compliment. “She brushed her fingers under his chin. “I guess you’ll just have to miss me.”

She somersaulted away from him, waving goodbye and blowing a kiss.  He said under his breath, “As if I’d ever misgender you. You may play a lot of mind games, love, but you didn’t catch that bluff.”

Comic page: https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/621837213819437056/mao-maos-specific-trigger-should-not-be First chapter of Piercing the Swordsman https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/617045879413719040/piercing-the-swordsman-chapter-1

@beesechurguer @king-himbo