#almost begs the question of why they needed new art at all

[littleeyesofpallas]

[scruus]

★ [ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐦 𝐈 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞? ]

✎ : sub kaveh x dom gn reader notes: handjob(Kaveh receiving), dacryphilia, dirty talk, begging, wholesome at the end so porn with plot, reader being a simp because this is very much a self insert.

author talks: WE ARE SO BACK YALL (gang signs 🤟). It took me so long to get back into my writing space again and am happy am back.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ favorite - isabel larosa

Kaveh was seated in front of you, dressed in the costume of a veiled dancer of the medieval century. And coincidentally so, the costume was similar to a fanart you had seen a few weeks before of the character Link from the game, Legend of Zelda. Who is currently your new obsession.

He didn’t need much help with the costume because his features and hair were an almost exact copy of that blonde twink but what shocked you was the bare torso with only chains of jewellery hanging and they added a shimmering sheen. It was like his body was a painted canvas and the gold chains coupled with small studded gems were the sheen to the final art form.

That darning pretty face was covered with a thin red veil and his arms had puffed sleeves which were lonely with no other garment around. The flowing skirt beneath his abdomen were like broad drapes spaced evenly, letting you have a peek at his milky white thighs and red thong.

Thong?!, your eyes widened with complete shock. How did I not notice that!

Upon looking at his shy face for answers, you realized it would be futile with the way he was avoiding your gaze, his eyes almost burning a hole into the carpet. However, mischief was a trait that was quite comfortable under your skin and all the more torturing for your lover.

“Kaveh….”, his body jerked at your voice, ears changing color from nude to red while he sat shyly. “Where did you get that thong?”, his jaw clenched while his hands formed into fists holding tightly at his skirt, feeling the warm shame rise in his body as he now switched his seating position to hide the underwear from you.

He grumbled quiet messes of words but you failed to hear it. The idea that whatever force had made him dress up like this was so enticing to you. You obviously knew he liked to cosplay a few characters here and there and you loved seeing him dress up. But never had you ever witnessed him in such a scandalous costume, that too of video game character he is supposed to ‘hate’.

“Kaveh…I asked you some-"

“UGH! I BOUGHT IT FROM A LINGERIE SITE!”, he shouted, rushing to bury his heating face in his hands, praying that the ground just opens up and swallows him whole and let him at mercy.

The urge to laugh was almost hurting your chest but you had to resist the temptation. In defense, you bit your bottom lip but Kaveh knew better. He sighed dejectedly, “you can laugh…”, as he looked at you.

You shook your head in response, “no no am not laughing I am just curious”. Although partly lying, it was true. The question of why he had done this was eating at you since whenever you suggested him an even mildly spicy outfit, he would straight up shut you out. Hot-headed much. So what caused this change?

“About what?”, he groaned with a frustrated pout on his face, hoping this entire ordeal just ends and he stops sitting like some guilty criminal.

“….. why Link?”, Link was one of your favourite characters but very much despised by your boyfriend. He used to complain about him at every chance he could get and you would just laugh at his pettiness. Playing the game? he would grumble about his character design. See his merch somewhere? Talk shit about the price and quality. And all the times you brought him up during lunch or dinner when the fangirling hit too hard, you could see his eyes almost roll into the back of his head.

In conclusion, he HATED that twink.

Kaveh decided to remain silent and aloof. Pupils darting around the room while his fingers fiddled with each other. It was a question he feared you would ask. He could lie or make up something random but would catch on quick. And the fact that you would probably accept his lie and not push him for the real answer hurt him more because your affection for him reaches heights.

“Honey I-“

“You liked him”, he replied softly.

“Huh?”

“….you liked him alot and I hated it”

You wish you could jump on him and grab that puffed, angry face of his which had the most adorable pout ever and kiss him hard. The kind of kiss that makes him forget his name and a little weak in the knees. The one that make him begging for more like a shameless whore.

A glow sparked on your face as you smiled at him. Directing your fingers at him, you patted your lap in an attempt to make him sit on your lap. Kaveh obliged, which was rather shocking because he usually turned a blind eye to your doting acts. It would either be you running after him to make him comply or his neediness for you overpowering his attitude.

Looks like today was the latter.

He straddled your lap, eyes still avoiding your own yet both bodies radiating the heat of need. “Were you jealous?”, your tone was delicate and sincere which led Kaveh to lose his guard. He slowly nodded his head before looking down at you. The sapphire red eyes of his being all so lovely and that gorgeous face of his beaming a dark red.

“Do you think I link Link more than you?”, you asked while your fingers trailed up and down his spine, sparking little goosebumps on his skin. Kaveh already knew the answer but his own insecurities resulted in the surety of his doubt. He refused to answer.

“Well then, would you be happy if I show my love for you?”, the question was straight and simple, even wholesome, one would say. However, Kaveh’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as if noticing something more sinister was hidden between your words .

“How about I bend you over and fuck you in this costume”, your one hand treaded through his messy hair as the whispers made his tummy churn while the other groped his butt.

“Or better….I’ll raw dog you in front of our mirror-“, so sultry and hot, that was how you sounded right now, “and you can see how we both look like when you take my strap deep inside”. Kaveh pursed his lips in, swallowing whatever saliva was remnant on his mouth because the heat was starting to rush down to his dick and it was suddenly difficult to breathe normally.

The visual imagery of what you would look like, the expressions your face would contort to and the suggestion of what a ruined mess he would look under you got him all dizzy and aching.

Your hand suddenly slipped inside his skirt, grabbing his growing boner which was covered with the red thong. His body jerked upwards, stunned by the touch. “What are you-a-ah?”, a moan escaped from his lips and he was appalled at his own reaction. What the fuck are you doing?

“What? Didn’t you dress up all nice and cute for me?”, you leaned in forward with a grin on your face, lips just a few shaky breaths apart from his. Wrapping your hand around his stiff dick, you slowly rubbed it making sure your eyes never lost the sight of his own. His pale body was now adapting a reddish color, like his entire body had decided to reject his morales and act according to your will.

“I-I don’t kn-“, a strangled moan was heard when you squeezed your palm around his dick.

“Didn't you wear this slutty thong for easy access?”, Kaveh’s inner voice was screeching at him with how you sounded right now, “so that I can pull it to the side and slide myself in for a quickie?”. The implication of your words were making it so difficult for any rationale thoughts inside his head and that too with your soft palm working around his shaft, he suddenly felt all weak.

“Ah look at you, getting all excited just from a few words”, you merely chuckled and his dick twitched in your hand. Kaveh started unconsciously bucking in your palms. “F-fuck fuck…”, he bit down on his lip stifling those whorish noises to which he received a harsh smack on his ass. Eyes widening in surprise as a gasp slipped from his throat.

It stings, he thinks. It stings so why is it that his cock is rock hard? Why is the painful stimulation driving all his blood down to his already burning core? And instead of despising it, why does he want more? He blinked rapidly trying to keep the newly bloomed tears at bay. He is whining like a pathetic slut, he can’t start crying too!

“I want to hear your voice Kaveh”, a stern command from you got to his head and he whimpered and squirmed under your gaze. “Do. Not. Be. A. Brat”, eyes scanning his burning face which so evidently revealed the desperation surging inside him. His hips grinding into your hand, chasing after the addictive feeling while heat started pooling between your legs.

“s’ good…feels good”, his moans sputtered easily as his mind slipped into a subspace. Kaveh stared at your face with adoration and he croaked his begs for a kiss. Oh they look so soft, he thinks wanting to press his lips against your own so bad all the while he ruts into your hand like was so beautifully pitiful.

You pulled him in by the back of his head and his arms wrapped around your neck. He nibbled at your lips hastily just so your tongues could intertwine, resembling an earnest puppy. He was losing himself. Needy whines of your lover, that were poorly muffled by your lips, were filling up the room and god was it intoxicating.

You fastened the pace of your hand on his weeping cock and he sobbed curses. It was adorable the way he trembled in your grasp all the while his throbbing dick sent flutters of zaps down his body. Shit he was close.

“uhn~c-close close mmh”, he was blabbering like a kid, like he didn’t know what ‘sentences’ are and that almost made you kiss him into a puddle again. But no. You wanted to hear him. Hear his words out aloud, no matter how shameless and humiliating they are. You wanted to hear him beg.

“Slow dow-ough s-slow please!”, his nerves were burning. That brain of his had already turned to mush and he had thrown away whatever dignity he had left the moment you decided to jerk him off. Mouth wide open, panting, as tears started to trickle down and he clenched your shirt for dear life. He feared the orgasm would make him pass out.

“Should I stop?”, you teased and that just made him whine. He wanted to cum so bad and if you paused even for a mere second, he would start wailing. Looks like he has really being reduced to a crying slut.

“No! No ungh~!”, he cried out, both your sweaty foreheads rested against another as his gaze fixated on the way his dripping cock was moving in and out of your pretty hands. It was so obscene but fuck did it feel good. The way your hands moved at a brutal rhythm and his head sported a swollen reddish-pink color, it was legit a scene from a porno.

“Cum for me then”, you huffed, feeling the heat spread under your skin, fire dancing on your nerves. And as if waiting for your command, Kaveh dug his nails in your shoulders before sputtering all over your top. The white liquid sticking to your trousers as you continued to massage his high off making his dick throb cutely. Kaveh felt his toes curl and there was a loss of voice in his throat for a few seconds. His hips spasming during the release while his entire body arched into you.

Shaking gasps and trembling moans left his mouth as the aftershocks still waved through his body. He swear he could almost see his vision turn dark before collapsing on you, body immediately going limp. His nose took in the scent of your perfume to which his strained muscles responded by relaxing. Time had seemed to halt and the only sounds that could be heard was Kaveh’s slumbering sighs and the soft caress of your fingers on his back.

“I love you, you do know that right?”, you finally spoke up, trying to soothe any dilemma in his mind even the act you two commited just now but what you received from him was a soft boyish laugh. The same one that made you fall head over heels when you first met him in the bar.

“I know….I just….I was jealous”, he traced shapes on your chest, avoiding your gaze once again because he knew he was blushing and the last thing he wanted to see right now was your smirk. Well he was wrong about it. You had never looked so lovesick with that grin on your face, like an absolute fool whose entirety revolves around their blonde, hot headed, bashful lover.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him in close and cuddling and it made his eyes feel heavy. Just before they shut down, he mumbled in a hushed tone, “I love you too”.

And there you sat, still and looking like a bright red tomato as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest.

Shit, you thought, I am so cooked.

[sweetracha]

BreedING KINK GO BRERRRRRRRTRTT IDC WHO. IDC WHEN. IDC HOW. ME OE THEM. I JUST FUCMKKKMMMM, thr mere thought of making seungmin ride my strap until hes literally fucking sobbing is so fucking nice oh ky god. Cock soent but he just wont STOP.

OR OR OR OR OR

Seungmin useing sll these new found muacles to put my ass into the MEANIST MATING PRESS. And i mean absolutely fucking FILTHY. Wet, messy, mean, and i mesn MEAN AS FUCK.

God csnt save me anymore im so sorey

STOP BECAUSE I CAN'T!!!! I NEED TO BE BRED SO BAD!!!

But also whiney crying subby stray kids begging to be bred is so......*brain shuts down*

Wants to Breed

-CHAN: He can and WILL put a baby into you. Chan fills you up multiple times before holding your legs up straight in the air so nothing leaks.

-Hyunjin: I know he would be such a beautiful whiney sub but I don't see him wanting to be bred, the thought of it brings him out of the mood. HOWEVER breeding you??? Creating life???? ART TO LIFE??? His hopeless romantic heart (and cock) is gone

-Jeongin: OH he wants kids! He knows you two should wait but the idea of the risk turns him on more than he would ever want to admit. His idea would be 'we aren't planning for it but if it happens it happens'

Wants to be Bred

-Han: In my mind this man is a switch but leans sub when it comes to breeding. He is terrified of having children so baby is always protected when he is fucking you. But him? He can't get pregnant. Doesn't mean he can't act like it. Begging doesn't even begin to describe how desperate he is

-Felix: I mean come on?!?!?! The second his hot mommy comes in with her extra large strap, the boy can't speak. He just presents himself on the bed for you. Makes sure you buy fake cum, he wants the whole experience.

To Breed or to be Bred, that is the Question.

-Minho: I know this one is controversial but hear me out! Imagine him on your bed READY for your cock, to be fucked out of his mind and filled...but his way. Yes he is still taking the lead. He will never admit he wants it, this way allows him to keep his dignity. "Fill me up baby, prove you are worth something and breed me. It's all your good for anyways" but he also wants to fill you. You are his slutty little cum dump of a kitten. He makes it seem like a favor he is doing you. "Might as well fill you up kitten, useless little thing. Maybe you'll get pregnant, hmmm. I'll keep you as my little housewife. Sounds fitting for a dumb little kitty"

-Changbin: I don't know why, I don't know how, I just know it fits! Big buff boy brought his knees by the idea of being bred by you. But then you turn it around the next day and cry to be bred??? His mind gets numb from the back and forth. He loves it so much.

-Seungmin: Will always start out as wanting to breed you. Almost goes so overboard with the act that you catch on to him wanting more. As he opens up more about his subby puppy side do you learn the truth. In a moment of vulnerability he cried for you to cum in him. He knew it wasn't possible but he NEEDED it. After a long discussion, many toys were purchased. Just in time for puppy's first heat.

(Unedited)

[shinynewboots]

Staring at the Sun / Adam x Lute Chapter 8

Summary: After the battle, Lute attempts to flee with Adam. They find themselves unable to return to Heaven and must adjust to life in Hell.

AN: Hi all! Very excited about this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it (I essentially had big word vomit today lol it's crazy how motivated I am to write when I am well-rested). I hope you guys enjoy it as well!

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, smut eventually, Adam-typical misogyny, alcohol use, slight sexual themes

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

Lute was almost certain that at this point in their tentative relationship with the Hell princess, Charlie would have been more than willing to help her and Adam to get to the Embassy. However, Lute also knew that this truce of sorts was contingent on the fact that she and Adam were here in Hell and unable to spearhead the Exterminations. Sure, Charlie was sunshine and rainbows and full of hope in all beings. The other residents of the hotel were not as trusting.

The Extermination Day countdown atop the Embassy that loomed over the city had ceased ticking after the failed extermination. The numbers had been replaced with question marks. Though Lute had no baseline for any sort of peace in Hell (as all of her prior visits were filled with chaos and carnage), the other residents had alluded to the fact that Hell was in a state of calm since it appeared that extermination no longer existed.

And there were political issues that Lute listened to when they were spoken about near her but did not give much thought to. Why should she? Her and Adam would be leaving this place of the damned soon enough. 

“Valentino’s been more on-edge than usual,” Angel sulked, nursing a cocktail. “Apparently none of the new sinners want to make a fucking deal with him and now he’s making it my problem.”

“Word on the street is that a lot of Overlords are getting antsy,” Husk offered, “Especially since the last extermination day. Lots of angelic weapons just out there in the open.”

“And why would that put an Overlord on edge? You’d think they jumping with fucking joy now that the big scary exorcists are nowhere to be found,” Adam scoffed, his curiosity begging him to join the conversation. 

Husk gave Adam a curious look as he cleaned the bar and looked between Angel and Adam. “No extermination day means less incentive to make a soul deal with an overlord. Who needs protection now if the biggest threat to eternal damnation has been chased off?”

Lute had packed a small backpack with supplies she thought they might need on their journey to the Embassy. While she did not anticipate a confrontation, this was Hell and constant vigilance was required. 

Her Egg Army had been useful in procuring weapons for her to pack. Fred had borrowed a knife made of angelic steel that had been left over from the extermination. The knife looks oddly familiar to the one that had been used to stab Adam but best not to look too much into it. Blue and Orange had found a pistol with angelic steel bullets. While Lute was unpracticed in the art of shooting, she knew she could make it work in a pinch. 

And Yellow. Simple Yellow had grabbed snacks from the kitchens that the pair could take on their journey. 

“Dude, good thinking,” Adam said, happily taking the snacks from the simple egg and packing them in their travel bag. Lute rolled her eyes as she loaded the pistol, the angelic steel bullets feeling oddly familiar in her hand. The Eggs had gathered in their room, looking expectantly up at her. Even Keekee must have sensed something was off, as she stood in the same lineup with the eggs.

“When are we leaving, Lieutenant?” Fred asked, a simple smile on his eggy features. 

“WE,” Lute said, pointing to herself and Adam, “Are leaving soon. You four are staying here.”

The eggs frowned and their eyebrows furrowed. “But when will you be coming back, Lieutenant?”

Lute sighed and looked over at Adam, who shrugged and reached down to give Keekee a scratch behind the ears. The cat purred in delight and rubbed her body against Adam’s leg.“Soon. But if anyone asks, we’re still here, right?”

The eggs nodded enthusiastically, pleasing Lute. “Alright, now scram.”

The eggs took their duty as minions very seriously and did just as their mistress asked, running out of the room in a haphazard waddle. Keekee followed similarly, chasing after the eggs.

“More like ‘scram’ble,'' Adam said as he stood up from his hunched position, laughing as he picked up the knife. He played with it in his hands, passing it back and forth between his fingers. He looked at himself in the reflection of the blade, his golden eyes reflecting like miniature suns. 

“Very funny,” Lute deadpanned. She pushed her hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face. It had grown quickly during her time in Hell and was closer to her shoulders than she could ever remember it being. Strands of hair caught in the metal pieces of her new arm, so she tugged until they broke free. 

She had been adjusting to her arm surprisingly well. She was very impressed by the details Asmodeous had added. She was able to feel sensation almost as well, if not better, in her metallic arm as compared to the original. It was also stronger and so Lute felt confident she would be able to hold her own if it ever came down to it. 

“Are you ready to go?’ She asked, throwing the back over her shoulders and wings. The wings had been a concern at first, as they worried they would be recognized by Sinners on their journey. However, after further thought they realized that no other sinners knew their true origins and there was such a variety in the makeup of sinners that they wouldn’t look too terribly out of place unless they began to bleed. 

“Yeah, I’m ready to get the fuck out of this place,” Adam said, walking towards her and putting the knife in his back pocket. “I do want to tell you something though, just in case.”

Lute frowned and turned to face him. “Just in case of what? Adam everything’s going to be fine and we’ll be back in Heaven before nightfall.”

“Just in case,” He said, grabbing her face in his large hands, similar to the way he had done after the fight with Vaggie. Golden met Golden, and Lute felt her heart sink into her stomach. “Something happens—”

“Adam nothing’s going to happen,” Lute argued, trying to shake her head though she failed spectacularly due to the gentle pressure Adam was placing on the sides of her head. 

“Lute, let me speak,” He said, his voice soft with a serious tone. Lute closed her mouth quickly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get to the Embassy or if Heaven will even answer. Shit, I don’t know everything. But what I do know is if I had to be stuck in Hell with anyone, I’m glad it was with you. I lo-appreciate you, Lute. You’re my best friend.”

Lute’s mouth formed an O shape and suddenly the ability to speak no longer existed. Her mouth had run dry. Adam searched her eyes for a second before dropping his hands and pulling away from her, his body turned away from her. 

“Sorry, that got really mushy and gross. Just forget about it.” He said, his wings wrapping around his body.

 Lute felt as though she were an ice sculpture melting, and the ability to move, to think, to act was rapidly returning to her. She reached out for his shoulder with her new arm, intending to only give a small tug. However, she was still learning her strength with the appendage and so the gentleness became an almost forceful pull and Adam was brought face to face with her. His eyes were downcast and unable to meet her own. 

“Uh, no, no Adam, I won’t forget about it. I’m sorry, I’m not good at this,” She said, her hands motioning all around the room. “But I wouldn’t fight through the pits of Hell for anyone else. You mean so much to me, Adam.”

She watched Adam’s mouth curl up on the side, a small smile he seemed afraid to give into. His eyes have softened, and he is looking at her strangely. Suddenly, she finds herself engulfed in his strong arms and her body flush against his own. 

He is radiating the familiar heat that Lute has become accustomed to at night, in the dark where no one can see, and voiced thoughts become forgotten by morning. Her head is resting on his chest and she can hear the steady beat of his heart. His arms have wrapped around her body and hold onto her like a drowning man to a lifejacket. 

His chin rested on her head and his eyes were closed, taking in the moment for a while longer. But then the moment was gone and Adam pulled away. He looked down at his loyal lieutenant, his best friend, his Lute and smiled softly.  “Alright, let’s stop being pussies and get the fuck out of here.” 

Lute nodded and hoped that the blush on her cheeks was not as visible as she feared it was. She hoped this line that they have crossed can be maintained even when they leave Hell. A piece of her felt like an addict; she now knew what this little slice of perfection tasted like, how could she ever be expected to give him up? 

Another part of her knew that this closeness they had developed would not last in Heaven. He would go back to being her commander and the mythic First Man and she would go back to being his loyal lieutenant, always so close and yet so far. 

Lute shook herself out of her musings and was brought back to the scene at hand. They had slipped out of the hotel through the garden. There was a spot in the fence that Lute had discovered on one of her morning runs. It was just big enough for the two of them to slip through and leave the safety of the hotel. 

The Embassy shone in the distance and Lute was grossly aware of just how far the trek would be on foot as opposed to flying. 

“Alright Lute, we just gotta lay low,” Adam said, his voice low as they walked the streets of Hell. Various sinners walked the streets, most minding their own business. The streets smelled of piss, blood, and sweat. That didn’t stop the citizens though, as this was the most crowded Lute had ever seen the Pride ring (of course, it not being an extermination day had everything to do with it).

Apart from the literal dumpster fires, cannibals in the streets, and gunshots, the entire street wasn’t so different from Heaven. Though she had never been to earth, maybe this coupled with her time in heaven was the closest she would ever come to experiencing life as a human.

“Dude, that's fucking gnarly,” Adam whispered as he stopped to look at the various advertisements and shop windows. Lute looked over to see a picture of their newest acquaintance, Fizzarolli, holding something called the Dragon Driller 5000. 

A bunny sinner that the pair had been walking by looked over at Adam and shrugged. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried, sugar. I’ve got three at home.”

Adam opened his mouth to give a very Adam-esque reply. Sensing the degeneracy, Lute stomped on his foot and replied. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

The bunny looked Lute up and down before sending her a wink. “Looks like you’ve got your little boyfriend trained already.”

Lute gave the bunny a strained smile. “I try.”

Lute could feel the utter need to speak radiate off of Adam.”It was nice talking to you, but we’ve got to get going.”

“Alright sugar, rain check on getting that dragon driller though! You and your boy toy would have a great time.” 

Lute nodded and pulled Adam away from the scene, her cheeks burning at the implication. “Come on. You’re not really practicing what you preach, huh? What part of laying low did you not understand?” She whispered sharply.

“I’m sorry, bitch, I can’t help it. There’s just so many possibilities here. Couldn’t help but stare,” Adam whispered back, shrugging his shoulders, and looking around at the other shop windows.

“Come on, let’s keep moving,” She said, walking briskly ahead of him. They were only a few blocks from the Embassy and while they had not had any negative interactions yet, all it took was breathing wrong in some sinner’s direction for all of Heaven to break loose. 

Lute walked past an alley and was met with a rush of cold that was an unexpected contrast to the otherwise hot streets. She looked back at Adam to make sure he was close behind. And he was, though walking a bit more leisurely than she would have cared. She shook her head in annoyance and continued. 

She passed another alleyway and felt a cold figure wrap around her, covering her mouth and pulling her into the alley. Her eyes were wide in shock as the figure continued to wrap its shadowy tendrils around her body. Lute recognized that bone-chilling coldness as the same one she had encountered at the hotel 

The fucking Radio Demon.

Lute should have known that he would have his loyal shadow follow them. They should’ve been smarter. But he had kept his guard dog in check for the last few weeks and Lute very rarely saw anything hiding in the shadows around the hotel anymore. 

Fuck. 

Fuck the Radio Demon. 

Fuck Adam for deciding to window shop now of all times. 

Fuck the Bunny Sinner and her promotion of her disturbing sex toys. 

Fuck.

Lute felt like she was screaming. Even if she was, she wasn’t able to make a sound due to the shadow’s penetration of her mouth, her nose, and her ears. Darkness began to ensnare all of her senses until there was nothing.

-

The shadow chuckled. Master would be proud. He was tasked with keeping an eye on the golden-eyed-ones. Master knew they were up to no good and so the shadow bid as Master asked and followed them through the streets of Pentagram City. 

The shadow kept to darkness, skulking the alleyways and keeping watching on the golden-eyed-ones. Master had said if they were getting closer to the golden building, to take action. And so the shadow did as he was asked. 

The silver one had gotten ahead. The shadow had already had a taste of her a few times at the place Master now lived. Her fear called to him and shadow took great pleasure in engulfing her fear and soul, sucking the light from her body. 

And so, the shadow chose to strike. The silver one fought back, as was expected, but she was no use for the shadow’s darkness. The shadow engulfed her in the alley intending to take her back Master. Her spirit was delicious. It was a wonderful mixture of dark and light matter that the shadow couldn't get enough of. 

The shadow began to move, to take the silver one to Master as a prize. 

A rock moved. The shadow looked up. 

The shadow turned to see the big one standing at the start of the alleyway, a knife brandished in his hand that gleamed in the light of the city. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” The big one screamed, lunging for the shadow and the silver one. The shadow screamed, the sound high-pitched like a banshee. Two birds, one stone. Master would be pleased. 

The shadow began to spread its tentacles so that it would catch the big one in its grasp and immobilize it. The big one fought against the shadow, screaming out and thrashing, until he fell still. 

Perfect, the shadow thought. The perfect gifts for Master. 

“Tell your master I said he can suck my fucking dick,” The big one said and he began to thrash once more and sliced through the shadow with his angelic steel knife and escaped his grip. The shadow screamed, the most anguishing screaming as a piece of its shadow tendril fell to the ground and dissipated, unable to regenerate to the shadow. 

The big one sliced again, another tendril of the shadow’s falling to the ground and disintegrating with the shadow powerless to stop it. The shadow screamed once more, pulling all the warmth from the area, and quickly began to release the silver one, who fell to the ground. 

The shadow took in the scene and made a choice: Flee and feel Master’s wrath.

-

“Lute!” Adam yelled, dropping the knife as the shadow disappeared into the dark alley. He ran to her and fell to his knees, pulling her up and cradling her to his chest. 

“Lute,” He said again, pushing away the strands from her sweat-covered face. Her breathing was shallow and her skin was ice cold. “Lute, come on, wake up.”

Lute began to cough and sputter, the color coming back into her face. She took in deep breaths and looked around the scene in fear. 

“What, what happened,” She coughed out, her eyes meeting Adam’s. 

“The fucking Radio Demon sent his fucking lap dog” Adam growled out. “He’s gone for now, but I don’t know how long we have until that bastard comes after us.”

Lute nodded, taking a deep swallow. She began to try and stand but couldn’t catch her footing before she fell back into Adam’s embrace. Adam’s features were dark, rage radiating off of his body. He looked down at her and knew he had to act quickly. 

“I’m going to fly us to the Embassy.”

Lute’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Adam, no. On the ground we might blend in, but the sky? Everyone’s gonna know what two fucking angels look like.”

“I don’t care. We know the sky better than the ground. I’d rather take our chance.”

“Adam, I don’t-” She breathed out, her lungs still weak from drowning in darkness. 

“Just trust me,” He said, gathering her in his arms and walking from the alley. She had no choice but to comply and no strength to keep arguing.  He bent down to grab the knife and noticed it was covered in a black, tarry substance. 

Thankfully, the altercation hadn’t even drawn one bystander’s attention (why would it? This was Hell.) and so Adam unfurled his golden wings for the first time in months and took to the skies, Lute cradled in his arms as he flew them both to a hopeful salvation. 

[cup1dt3a]

I loved your Wally x reader and their little sister its so cute I hope its ok if I request a Wally x reader who loves to draw and reader starts looking for inspiration and they come across the show and they start drawing the characters Wally seemingly there favorite to draw

Tysm for the request and kind words! It always makes me happy to know people are enjoying my writing! And your request sounds very intriguing I like it! Hope you’re doing well or that things get better!

“ Ugh! Why must artblock be such a bitch!?” You cried out scribbling over the drawings you deemed not good.

You’ve had nothing but what feels like years of artblock. Even though it’s only been two weeks you just really wanted draw something and be happy with it but with whatever you drew you immediately hated it or just couldn’t get it how you wanted it to look. Including when a single idea came to mind it would completely vanish the moment you tried to draw. It was almost as if the gods forbid you to draw. Eventually you sighed out too frustrated to keep going as you tossed your sketch book to the side of your nightstand with your pencil and eraser.

“ Maybe watching some TV will do the trick?” You questioned to yourself .

As you grabbed the remote to the Tv flipping through the dully colored shows. Some more mature, too childish for you, others too in appropriate for you. Soon enough after your mindless flipping you came across a bright and colorful show displaying its intro. Now this looked interesting! You put the remote down onto a nearby surface as your eyes were now glued to the TV. Everything about the show from beginning to end captivated you. The show’s character designs were outstanding, the animation even more the puppets was almost too smooth like they were alive, and just everything about it made you admire it. But one character in particular caught your attention.

Wally Darling the main character of the show drew you into it even more. You loved his design and character traits. He was like a little gremlin! It didn’t help that he was also 12 apples tall. He was just a tiny little gremlin in your eyes that loved apples and drew. Him also being an artist was just a bonus for you!

“ Now! What do you think I should draw today?” He asked through the screen staring at the viewer who was currently you.

“ How about I draw you?” You muttered eyes flickering back and forth to a cream colored page and the colorful puppet.

Your art block finally vanished from your new obsession with the main character Wally. His design was supper easy to draw his figure too was just as easy. It didn’t help that the day after watching the show and drawing him the next few episodes all he did was give you brilliant and adorable poses. It was like he was practically begging you to draw him.

What a model he was. It was almost as if he never wanted you to take your eyes off of him. Like he was your little model doing anything you needed without being asked to. The perfect model indeed. But everyone has their secrets right? And your precious model had many.

He swung his legs back and forth with glee as he laid on his plush stomach on the the floors of your room. Flipping through your many many many pages of him and his friends. But mainly him. He couldn’t believe that he was the main focus of your inspiration. Him! Wally Darling the main focus of your own masterpieces. He had to admit you really did have some talent with shading and even just with drawing in general. You were just as good as him! It made him so happy almost too happy.

Looking over to your sleeping figure he couldn’t help but just want to give you a hug as a thank you for your amazing work. What kind of neighbor would he be if he didn’t thank you for being so kind as to draw him?

So as quietly as he could he had gotten up off of his little legs pushing up from the ground to tip toe over to your sleeping figure. Somewhere in your own dream land unaware and so unknowingly vulnerable to anyone who came in here. You should be glad it was him and not some horrible soul! Wally never exactly understood sleeping. Every time he tried he’d wake up in a panic scared of the horrible things his imagination came up with in his own dream land. You just looked so peaceful. He must admit that he envied you and his friends for having the gift of sleep. He’s almost surprised he doesn’t have eye bags like Franks. Just as he reached your comfy bed he couldn’t reach up. Pouting as he tried to quietly jump up without waking you. He couldn’t reach you even as he pitifully tried. Your bed was too high for his small plush legs to reach. He wondered how you even got up her everyday. You must of had to do some kind of cardio to achieve the top of this thing!

You stirred around on top of the bed hearing a small pitter patter constantly tapping your floor. You assumed it was your pet wanting attention. It was your fault for spoiling them so much they they only scratched at your bedside or tried to jump onto it so you would cuddle them. Tiredly sitting up you turned to the side of the constant pitter patter you felt around for them eventually feeling something soft and pulling them up. Not even giving it a second thought to the difference in the texture of your baby.

“ You’re so pitiful.” You told them nuzzling their forehead before dozing off to sleep.

Well this was unexpected. You’re now hugging him and he can’t get out of your grip now. Home is going to be so mad at him if he doesn’t hurry up. But at the same time you’re so comfy as you gently huggs you with his plush form. Why must the world be so cruel that he has to go soon ending this amazing moment sooner than he wants it to. If he could he would just lay in your arms forever always able to have your warm figure cuddling him. Wow he could actually go to sleep for once. But the sun is about to rise and home will lock him out again if he doesn’t come back! This was so unfair. After he sadly wiggled out of your loving grip he jumped off the bed. Landing face first onto the hard floor. How lovely?

He bit his tongue rushing towards the TV to scream out in pain as freely as he wanted to.

You woke up in an award position as if you were hugging something. You stretched your arms out trying to undo a few knots in your back. All the sudden you heart your pet making a ruckus at the door. You huffed getting out of bed to see what got them so rilled up. Soon you came to the door hearing the bell ringing. Opening the door you saw a small rectangular box at the bottom of your feel. Looking around the corner unsure you ordered anything that was supposed to arrive today.

You brought it inside to see if you could find an address or anything to know who’s it was and to your dismay there was no sticker or anything just a colorful. Little box the red, orange, and yellow pattern looked familiar. You decided to open it up to see if there was anything in there.

As you opened it you couldn’t help but squeal. It was a little Wally puppet! Whoever this was supposedly to go to was never getting it back now. You couldn’t believe it! There was only so much and so few Wally Darling puppets ever sold. You fawned over the doll not noting its smile growing by the moment as you hugged it.

Hope you all enjoyed this! I’ve been having a bit of writers block but managed to get through with this I’m so happy! I hope you’re all doing well or that yo ur day gets better.

Also ty all so much for the kind words you all comment on my works. It makes me so happy to know you all are enjoying my writing. I had written my first Wally Darling fic and a joke tbh and because I was bored and next thing Ik I’m now doing it so often I bearly write for twst XD.

Sincerely-Cup1dT3a 💌

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

So in terms of Taylor copying lines there is one that was very obvious to me

In the smallest man who ever lived she says:

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

Were you writing a book? Were you a sleeper cell spy?

So somehow this directly hints to the dinner scene in the movie Phantom Thread by Paul Thomas Anderson.Also Taylor previously stated she used this film as an inspiration for the song Mastermind so there is no denying she has seen it. I will leave the link for the video the similar dialogue begins at 2:40 and then 3:18

Reynolds:I don't protect myself somebody will come in the middle of the night and take over my corner of room ......

Are you an special agent sent here to ruin my evening possibly my entire life

Did somebody drop me on foreign soils behind enemy lines I'm surrounded on all sides

Who are you do you have a gun are you here to kill me

https://youtu.be/fn5dXUu_qxM?si=stSva_Wsg8h-GZom

I think you've certainly found something interesting.

I do think Taylor Swift lacks enough creativity to really ever come up with an idea on her own. There are so many instances where she straight up just uses source material- without ever crediting the original art that it is almost embarrassing I didn't notice sooner.

There is a lot about Taylor Swift I'm embarrassed I didn't notice sooner.

Truly, I do agree with you that the two dialogues sound remarkably similar- and I think it begs the larger question of authenticity in Swift's work.

For years, she has claimed to write about events in her own life- to use her life as her inspiration. She has even gone so far as to say in an interview that she has basically been publishing her diary for people to read for years. She said this during the "Lover" press run when she was, in fact, publishing bits of her diary for the public to read.

All these big claims about these songs being her authentic representation of self- yet, we always seem to find out that all her ideas are ripped right out of popular movies, old movies, old music, or books. She barely makes effort to change around the wordings and then she still sells it like it was her genuine feelings about a situation.

I'm sorry- but it doesn't make sense. I just think that if something is really truly part of your authentic life experiences- you don't need to copy movie dialogues in order to write about it.

Right?

It calls into question all her so-called "Authenticity" every time I see new evidence that she's ripping someone else off. It all seems so- fake when you ask yourself why does she need to copy other media if she's writing about her own personal life?

I don't need to rely on other media in order to write about my own life- I draw inspiration from other things- sure. However, it never extends to using basically the same dialogue, barely shifting some words around, and using the same thematic point in conjunction, as I write about something real that I experienced.

I just wonder- is she creative enough to find her own concept for songs or not?

You bring up an interesting point about her ability to be creative or original- Frankly, I question it too.

[yallemagne]

genuinely curious, what do you think about Jack x Art as a ship

you know it's a good question when i unlock my chambers to fetch the laptop.

Love it. I'm obviously not as invested in it as Mina/Jonathan or even Arthur/Lucy, but I love it.

Before I get too deep into this, I'm begging you, if you like Jack/Art read @bluecatwriter's fics for it on ao3. Such amazing work. I need to catch up, but I haven't had reading brain.

Think we're gonna have to dip a little into headcanon here. And I spoil the book, newcomers beware.

I see these two as family friends. Obviously, what with the familiar nicknames Art and Jack. Both from wealth, though Arthur has titles and land and Jack has medical nepotism. I imagine Jack's upbringing to be very emotionally stunting, raised to embody rigid standards of masculinity. Meanwhile, Arthur's father decided to put all the work he could in making him feel emotionally supported, leading to a very emotionally driven young man. When they were little, I imagine Jack almost hating Arthur for how sensitive he is, saying he's spoiled, but it's really just bitterness over not getting a healthy upbringing.

And then they grow up, and Arthur grows a million feet taller, and Jack has a lot of complicated feelings about that. Cue "Don't be intimidated, Seward. Try to imagine him in his underwear.". Jack is a bit more mature at this point and recognizes Arthur's emotional maturity as a good thing. He still tends to view it as "Arthur is masculine enough to make up for some feminine habits", so it isn't perfect. Meanwhile, Arthur has always looked up to Jack, though he now has to crane his head down. The two of them embody something the other finds admirable, and their regard for one another sits in this void space between respect and attraction.

Now. Sexuality. There are two wolves in my head. One is more interesting. The wolves are: Jack is disaster bisexual and Jack is compulsory heterosexuality gay. The former is what is said about every single male character in the history of tumble fandom, and the latter feels more interesting from a writing perspective. For the development of this relationship, I lean toward the latter. THIS IS RELEVANT I PROMISE.

So... I think Arthur introduces Jack to Lucy in hopes they would get along because Arthur wanted Jack to one day be his best man. Very awkward when (this is just an interpretation of the events btw) Jack subconsciously recognizes Arthur's feelings for Lucy and projects his feelings for Arthur onto Lucy because Perfect Man likes Girl -> Like Girl to become Perfect Man.

(I do think Jack truly falls in love with Lucy as a person separate from Arthur over the course of the story, but not romantically. He just can't perceive it as anything other than romantic because of heteronormativity.)

Arthur loves and trusts Jack so much that, even knowing Jack proposed to her the same day he did, he goes to him and asks for help when Lucy is sick. This love and trust means he doesn't think to ask questions, though. I talked about that before.

When Arthur loses his father, his existing family, and Lucy, the woman he was going to build a new family with, he falls apart in Jack's arms. He trusted Jack with Lucy's health, and she died without Arthur ever being informed how dire of a condition she was in, and he still trusts Jack with his emotions. Jack isn't fully equipped to comfort Arthur, but his attempt is genuine and deeply appreciated by Arthur.

And then Bram wrote Arthur being comforted by the only other recurring female protagonist and decided that that marked the end of Arthur existing meaningfully in the story because Bram is a coward.

I've already written a post about Jack's feelings of entitlement regarding women and why it's more than just shipping that makes me resist the idea that Arthur and Jack married anyone other than each other. Their relationship is based on mutual respect and a willingness to be vulnerable with each other. The key to getting these two hitched is getting Jack more open to vulnerability, and then we are set.

Following the events of Dracula, Jack is anxious about embodying perfect masculinity, getting a wife, having a million kids... but this anxiety manifests with him bothering Arthur to do it. Arthur is in no rush to do any of these things. The woman he was preparing to build a family with is gone. Jack, who sees every single woman as a potential wife because of misogyny, is flabbergasted. Perhaps they have a falling out (just cut out my write-up of the falling out bc I'm like "that's a good idea!" even though I know I'll never write it). Jack has been pressing Arthur to move on because Arthur embodies the masculinity that Jack strives for, and if Arthur doesn't want a wife, what if Jack doesn't want a wife either?? What if they're both gay??? Arthur asks "...well, what if?"

Then they have a Vegas wedding.

[indigosabyss]

Senku in Narutoverse: Academy Days

(Note: Senku's name is Shiraishi Gaku bc of the reincarnation thing but he insists that his given name is Senku, so that's what Iruka calls him when not using his family one. And Kikumaru is Ukyo, he just doesn't tell anyone his old name.)

"This is the design for a standard shinobi explosion tag. Each one is handmade by professionals using specialized ink and- yes, Shiraishi?" There was only so long Iruka could ignore the frantically waving hand on the front row.

The new addition to the class stared up with wide eyes, "Why not just use stamps?"

"Because it needs to be imbued by chakra." Iruka prayed that he would be okay with that answer, but no such luck.

"Isn't chakra conductive material a thing?"

"Yes, but it changes the feel of the chakra."

"How?" He had at this point pulled out The Binder and was now flicking through it to make editions, "We can activate the tags by channeling chakra through other materials. And can you even quantify this feel? Is there a certain element to it that makes it human that filters out of chakra conductive material?? Have we considered-"

It was one of the boys behind him who groaned loudly, "No one cares, Senku!"

Shiraishi's mouth clicked shut, and Iruka looked firmly at the boy who yelled, "That wasn't very nice." He reprimanded, before adding on, "I'll try to answer your questions outside of class time. Right now, let's move on to history!"

Shiraishi Senku was an odd kid. Despite his undeveloped chakra coils and physical weakness, he was brought into the Academy specifically for his ability to create devices which mimicked justu.

When he had made that 'gun' device to get out of shuriken training (even though he had perfect accuracy anyways) most of the gossip had been that he was part-Nara. Smart and lethargic? Of course the rumors went around.

It was laughable to Iruka though. If anyone saw how worked up he got over science and nature, they'd know that Senku was the furthest thing from lethargic. When the topic at hand interested him.

"Can you please bring a little of that enthusiasm in this taijutsu class?" Iruka was almost begging him.

Senku glared him down mercilessly, "Playfighting doesn't excite me by one millimeter. Besides, we all know I'm going to be a research-nin, so I don't see why this is necessary."

"Because all graduates require you to participate in a certain number of taijutsu classes to graduate. And it's very demoralizing for your classmates to try and fight someone who isn't trying. At all."

Also Iruka was worried that he was going to get seriously hurt one day and yes, it was kinda pathetic to watch a fight with Senku in it.

"I wouldn't worry about it." Senku picked at his ear, radiating smugness, before looking behind him, "I'm allowed a proxy, right?"

Iruka followed his gaze, and realized he was looking at a younger chunin with bright white hair walking up to the Academy with a lump over his shoulder.

"Yo, Iruka." He balanced it on one hand to give him a wave. Iruka spared him a nod before looking at the annoyingly precocious kid in front of him.

"Senku, you can't let Kikumaru do your fights for you."

"Not him." Senku scoffed, but there was a glow in his eyes as Kikumaru set it down and undid the blanket.

It was a training dummy. The kind with posts on it that swiveled around when you hit them. Iruka felt skeptical, but waited as Senku held up a panel with a few tiny levers sticking out of it that was connected to the dummy with a wire.

He flipped one lever, and the topmost section of the dummy swung around, almost clocking Iruka across the head, if he hadn't pulled back in time.

He still felt stunned enough to have been hit, though.

"You made. A Puppet?" He asked, mind spinning.

Senku frowned, "No, it's a remote controlled-"

"He's referring to the Suna ninja art of Puppeteering." Kikumaru interjected.

Senku shrugged, "Then yeah, fine, it's a Puppet. Whatever."

Whatever. As if this wasn't a skill that took years and years of diligent study to perfect that he had managed to do in a few weeks. Because he didn't want to do taijutsu practice.

He needed to talk to someone about this.

[giordirossi]

BEHIND THE MASK

A question never asked, yet answered all the same.   Date: Between April 10th-20th, 2024. Warnings: None.

Phone calls shouldn't drag out for longer than fifteen minutes tops, at least in Giordana's opinion.

Unless, of course, she happened to be caught in the endless conversational circle that was ringing her folks back in Launceston. Those always devolved after a quarter of an hour, playing catch up with mild news and constantly skirting around the massive elephant on the line surrounding her work. Inevitably they ran out of topics to hash out and resorted to rundowns of local obituaries, what birds her father saw in the yard that week, and when, for the love of the baby Lord Jesus himself, would she settle down with a nice Italian Catholic boy?

Which admittedly elicited more silent smirks than quick goodbyes these days. The kind only viewed by her reflection in the floor length mirror as she sat engulfed in the fabric of a shirt her very non-Italian, non-Catholic boyfriend left behind.

Tonight there were no private, mischievous smiles. No gossip about people from the old neighborhood. No jovial atmosphere behind this chat whatsoever. It felt rushed, almost frantic in a way that she seldom allowed her parents to hear. Or anyone else for that matter.

“I need you and Dad to go stay with Aunt Bea in Philly for a while.” Already she could hear her mother scoff, imagining the sight of long dark hair folding on itself as she undoubtedly gave Giordana's father an incredulous look. As if their daughter was begging for leniency on her adolescent curfew. “Not forever, just... until things cool down.”

"What things?”

“Ma—“

“Well, we can’t move our entire lives. D'you know how much it costs to relocate that fast?" A thick Launceston accent practically barreled down the phone at her. "We have important events coming up, what are we supposed to tell our friends and neighbors?"

As if on instinct, two fingers pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Dad playing cards at Vespucci's and you going to the salon with Trina do not count as important events, Ma." How to make them understand the gravity and the danger if they stayed? How she couldn't protect them across the pond if everything exploded? “You know Frankie and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious.”

After the grandiose disaster that was the awards and how tepid the Sovrani alliance with the French appeared in its aftermath, she wouldn't take chances here. With no threat of croissant retribution as a barrier back in Launceston, the Russian hyenas waiting in the shadows would turn her hometown into a bloodbath again. Anyone with ties to the organization, especially to leadership and those in their circle, were fair game.

Under no circumstance was Giordana losing the only true parents she'd ever known.

Right when she anticipated a stern remark about tone, or lack of respect for her elders, her rebuttal was only met with heavy silence on the other end of the line.

And then, "I want you to answer me honestly." Shit. "Are you and your brother in some kind of trouble over there?"

"Not yet... Maybe soon.” Which equated to all the information she could provide, despite how ominous and unclear.

“Please, can you go stay with Beatrice? We need you both out of Launceston." A sigh through the speaker. "And we’ll need you to send over anything you have in the house connected to us. Pictures, documents, third grade macaroni art, whatever's left.”

“What! Why?!”

From somewhere in the background, her father chimed in, “I thought you said this wasn’t permanent, Giordana.”

“It’s a safety precaution. I’ll text you my address in London, don’t write it down anywhere.”

Nobody would rat them out as her parents— as the Rossi’s. There were too many Sovrani sympathizers or adjacent families in the old neighborhood who all looked after each other, but not every Russian traded competency for violence. The risk of somebody snooping where they shouldn’t remained a possibility.

Maybe paranoia gripped her because it’s what she would do to find a mark, rifle through family homes looking for connections. They needed to cut ties with Launceston and their children for awhile, only then could they be safe.

***

Barely one week later and a myriad of deliveries line the hallway of Giordana's home.

Boxes full of memories from hers and Frankie’s youth, all meticulously labeled because her mother never half-assed anything in this life. From high school yearbooks to little league sports trophies. Beneath a cardboard flap, some Polaroid photo sticks out partially obscured, though she recognizes it immediately as the outside of a local ice cream parlor back home.

A man stumbled up to the counter only minutes after the photo was taken. Unsteady on his feet with a blue shirt stained purple, his hands coated in a substance she couldn't see before her father rushed them into the car.

Good ole childhood memories, right?

Documents

The large black lettering catches her eye and Giordana scoops the package up from the floor, carrying it beneath one arm to the kitchen table. Unsure what compulsion makes her curious to rifle through it, she cuts open the clear tape and lifts a few papers into the light. Perhaps in search of an embarrassing disciplinary file from Frankie's school days that she could frame on the mantle. Wouldn't that be a sight.

Most of the sheets are expected and benign, so much so that she nearly misses the one labeled Birth Certificate. To her knowledge, Frankie was in possession of his after getting married to Aria and she keeps her own in a small personal safe in the bedroom down the hall.

Correction, she owns the amended version. The one reissued after a legal adoption has taken place. Her eyes hesitate at the top of the page, not venturing any further than the title.

She'd never seen the original before.

Never wanted to, quite frankly. Any early memories before her adoption were strategically buried once the Rossi's welcomed her into their family. What good was it to learn about the mother who abandoned her? Who sang a little girl to sleep until one morning she decided to just... give her away. Forever.

Had she known what that little girl would become? Did she sense the strangeness of her own child? The birth mother was still alive somewhere, or so Giordana heard, but hardly cared enough to find out.

Yet standing in the middle of her kitchen with the evidence of a long forgotten past sitting between slender fingers, she feels the oddest pang of–– not regret exactly. More of an incompleteness, a sudden deficiency that might be cured with a single glance.

Who was she before becoming Giordana Rossi?

Her gaze lowers, skimming over the birth details she already knows. Hospital, weight, height, nothing would be altered there. The birth name is different though.

Simone Martinez.

A breathy laugh escapes suddenly, relieved and amused all at once because she can't fathom answering to the name Simone. It isn't terrible, but neither does it match her current personality. She'll be sure to inform her parents of the wise change.

Mother: Monica Martinez.

No bells ring and while she hardly expected them to, somehow that leaves her a smidge disappointed. For all the faint memories she holds of the woman who gave her life, none of this feels familiar. She can only vaguely picture the face, blurry and distorted by the passage of time.

At least the father column is guaranteed to be empty. All her parents ever told her, and all she requested to hear, was that the woman had been a single mother and the birth father was unknown. Even to this Monica person.

Giordana peers down for confirmation and her stomach instantly drops. A barely audible, "What the fuck?" passes between painted lips as she crinkles the page in her grasp while holding it closer to the light.

The second parental designation isn't a blank space at all.

Father: Artur Petrov.

No.

No, that–– it must be a typo. Or a forgery.

Maybe her father planted it as a belated April Fools prank. Gotcha, that's what you get for worrying us! Ha ha!

Eyes widening with every passing second, she stares in horror at the name for what seems like an hour. As if scrutinizing it long enough might change the shape of the letters or erase them entirely.

Artur Petrov.

Petrov. It glares back at her from the document right above the official hospital seal and doctor's signature; a mocking condemnation.

The roar in her ears is loud enough to disorient and she drops the paper, discarding it with the rest of the box's contents before turning to stand over the sink. She hasn't vomited in years, yet bile rises in her throat all the same as realization upon realization crash over her head.

A desperate gasp staves the mess off just long enough for a softly anguished groan to replace it.

She's fucking Russian.

[todayisyourturntolose]

Share pdude hcs??? 😈

ok soooo. idk if you mean one pdude in particular sooo imma do the basic ones! (p1,p2,p3,p4)

good lord it has been forever since ive been able to write down my hcs for these sillies, and i have a whole bunch so i'll put it under le cut :)

p1

-well versed in ASL, uses it in overwhelming situations

-sunglasses double as prescription lenses (i give this hc to basically all of the other dudes, but i think p1 would need glasses more than any of them)

-probably the smartest of the other dudes. essentially a polymath. if you ask him a question about almost anything, he'd probably give you a reasonable answer

-surprisingly good at drawing. does better with drawing portraits rather than full body. has a very scratchy and rough looking art style

-(technically canon bcuz of like, the war journal) writes in a journal (essentially a diary, but he'd rather die than call it that), mainly writes about his emotions and internal struggles, but sometimes writes about the other dudes and his experiences with them

-cannot go to sleep in silence. he's gotta have music on or some sort of background noise or else his mind starts to wander

p2

-physically can't stay in one place without moving. whether it be rocking in place, tapping his foot, or shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he's always making some sort of movement.

-actually pretty friendly to those around him. he just has a pretty short temper, getting easily agitated by things (or people) around him

-besides p1, probably the skinniest of all the dudes. mans is all bones compared to say p4 or p3

-champ is his emotional support animal. he's been through a lot, and champ is basically his only refresher from the hell he lives in

-strangely flexible...can slip through fairly small cracks and corners easily

-has a LOT of vocal stims. this mf meows whenever he sees a cat. he makes random noises to himself. he repeats things that he hears others say

p3

-got a surprisingly good amount of muscle on him. goes to the gym pretty often. definitely flexes whenever he gets the chance

-slight southern accent. very noticeable when he gets angry or when he talks fast. if you point it out to him, he'd probably get really embarrassed

-average r&b enjoyer. out of the blue, p1 once asked who luther vandross was, to which p3 gave an almost hour long lecture about the importance of r&b and why it's one of the best genres to date, why old r&b is miles better than new r&b, quizzing p1 on different artists, etc

-also an unironic country music enjoyer. he begs and pleads the other dudes to let him play just a little bit of johnny cash whenever he's offered the aux cord. maybe a bit of dolly parton. hell, probably some shania twain, if he's feeling bold.

-a fairly good singer. he's no freddie mercury, but to say he's horrible would be an overstatement. knows what songs are in his range, and which ones aren't. isn't really one to sing out loud in front of a lot of people, though. (one time, he sang to p1 in an attempt to calm him down during one of his moments. it worked, surprisingly :0)

p4

-one of the happiest dudes. at this point in his life, he's not nearly as violent as the others (he still has his moments, of course, but he's not one to just spontaneously go ham) and just sorta accepts things as they are

-a genre GOD. this man listens to pretty much everything. his favorite genres are funk, nu-metal (or metal in general), pop, and r&b (he and p3 bond over their fav artists)

-while champ is basically an emotional support animal to p2, to p4, champ is more of a service dog. he's getting older, which means he isn't able to do things as easily as he used to, so champ is there to fetch things for him and in general, just help him with daily tasks

-very confident with who he is. he isn't embarrassed by the things he does. he takes pride in being different.

-doesn't give himself labels when it comes to sexuality or gender. it's not that he's against it, he just prefers the idea of being unlabeled. (though, i personally hc him as being pansexual and transmasc. you go grandpa.)

-DAD BOD. a fair bita muscle, though. he's pretty strong compared to the other dudes.

-has an array of random talents. one day he'll just start juggling randomly and be like "oh, this? yeah, i picked it up a few years ago. nothing to write home about, to be honest."

--

aaaaand that's all! sorry if it's a lot, i just rlly have a lot to say abt these goobers (and even more to say abt the dudes i didn't include!)

[kiyfra]

The third and final chapter of Katatsumuri is finished! It can be read here or on A03. Pokerus AU belongs to @monsoon-of-art.

"A creature given to melancholy. I suspect its metallic shell developed as a result of the mucus on its skin reacting with the iron in Hisui's water."

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Gaeric’s tent was still coated in ice, a thick sheet of it forming a few days ago. The warden’s remaining hand had fallen off just as his arm and leg had, this time during the clan’s communal dinner. A loud crack was heard through the dining hall and the hand shattered like glass upon hitting the ground, drawing everyone’s attention. Gaeric had solemnly gotten up and announced he was going to bed, managing his crutch as best he could and ignoring his concerned clan mates offering to help. He kept his head down and headed to his tent with a thousand yard stare.

A heavy snow storm raged that night and come morning the tent was cocooned in a dense layer of ice, separating it from the outside world. Neither fire nor steel could put a dent in it; a complete black box where Gaeric was presumably undergoing the final stages of his metamorphosis.

Shouts asking if he was alright hadn’t produced a response, indeed nothing could be heard from within the ice chrysalis. Even if Gaeric was attempting to ride it out as stoically as possible, he would have wanted to reassure his worried clan members. Either he couldn’t hear them or he couldn’t answer, neither was comforting. There was an eerie stillness in the air as the clan waited.

Lian almost envied the solitude. He spent most of his time in his tent, withdrawn into his shell, hoping to blot out the world around him. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, slimy, immobile, unable to fulfill his duties as a warden and completely dependent on others.

He had been transformed completely into a sliggoo, the painful process finally at an end after so many weeks. It had felt like a Fox resided in him and took delight in tormenting him. Lian could imagine sharp claws slowly dragging organs into place, muscles being stretched and molded. His entire body being rearranged as it saw fit, heedless of his cries begging it to stop. A metallic shell grew out of his skin, spiraling around his lower half as his legs atrophied.

With his transformation complete the thing had gone dormant, evidently satisfied with the new arrangement. Enzymes had finished dissolving his skeleton, his flesh was gluey to the touch and muscular tissue affixed to the absurdly heavy shell.

Lian just didn’t want to think or feel anything. Not the vicious cycle of his body excreting acidic mucus when he was stressed, then the awful disgusting feeling stressing him out more. Not about how he couldn’t keep being Lord Kleavor’s warden and how he’d be stuck like this forever. If he kept trying to retreat further back and concentrate on the smooth curved interior of his shell, he could pretend he didn’t even have a body.

People still came to bring him meals and check on him before Lian quickly dismissed them. He knew if he didn’t he’d have to endure awkward attempts at conversation and answer unwanted questions.

“How are you doing? You really shouldn’t spend all your time moping. Why don’t you join everyone else for dinner?”

What was he even supposed to say to that?

The clan respected his need for space and Lian knew he wasn’t the only one suffering. Very few across Hisui had escaped the bizarre infliction turning people into pokémon; PokéRus, as the Galaxy professor called it. Those that worked closely with pokémon turned first, meaning the wardens and clan leaders, but it soon spread to everyone. Snovers, bunearys, piloswines, sneasles and an assortment of others at differing stages of transformation became a common sight at the settlement.

It wasn’t much fun turning into a quadruped, losing opposable thumbs or gaining bizarre new dietary needs. Many had been trying to ignore their newfound desires to eat grass or raw meat. Lian himself found that anything with salt made him violently ill, so that meant he couldn’t eat any of the clan’s cured meat they had stored. He had mostly been eating soup, the liquid diet being the easiest on him since his teeth fell out.

A bowl of mushroom stew sat uneaten by his bedside, having gone cold an hour ago. Lian couldn’t stand the goopy squelching noises that came from him when eating. Eating sounds had always bothered and disgusted him, but were now unbearable. He was repulsed by the urge to let his own acid dissolve the food before eating or needing to use a chitinous tongue to eat anything solid. He could barely bring himself to eat the meals brought to him, only doing so at his partner’s insistence.

Goomy hadn’t left his side since he was brought to the settlement, frequently leaning against him in an attempt to comfort him and kicking up a fuss if he thought Lian was letting himself waste away.

He knew it was wrong to worry his partner like that, especially after the stunt he pulled in the mire lands. It had given him and Calaba quite a fright when Lord Kleavor started bellowing outside Calaba’s tent, carrying him by the scruff of his tunic, half-conscious.

His partner abruptly perked up, noticing someone approaching the camp briefly before Lian did. A small dewott treaded through the Pearl Clan settlement carrying a heavy satchel. They were beating a path directly to Lian’s tent, the physical details filled in long before they approached the door.  Black nub ears poked out from a head-kerchief and a long scarf was wound snuggly around their neck. The locks of hair adorning both sides of their face like mock lop ears couldn’t have belonged to anyone else but Dawn.

She had clearly been swimming recently; water droplets still clung to her fur and her scarf was frozen stiff. Snow stuck to her fluffed up coat and ice crystals formed at the end of her whiskers. She was still pretty, even as a dewott.

A small paw rapped on the door to his tent. “Lian, can I come in?”

He really didn’t want Dawn to see him. He spent several seconds trying to think of a response, some way to send her away that wasn’t rude before she asked, “Are you okay?”

He didn’t dignify that with an answer. She seemed to realize her mistake and followed up with, “Right, that was a dumb question.”

There was an awkward pause as Dawn deliberated on what she should say or do next. No one in the Pearl Clan would take kindly to someone entering their home, their sacred space, without permission. If Lian told her to leave, there was nothing she could do.

After some deliberation, she decided to just go for it and state the reason for her visit.

“I brought you something,” Dawn announced, lifting her waterlogged satchel up. She clearly went out of her way to see him and there was no polite way to tell her to leave. Besides, Lian would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by the gift and what she went swimming in the ice lands for.

His curiosity won out. “Come in.”

The dewott opened the door, shaking herself to clear the water and snow off before entering.

It was completely dark inside his tent save for the afternoon sun pouring through the now open door, giving his living space a depressing atmosphere. He was resting on the floor next to his bed, peering out over the edge of his shell self-consciously, with his partner Goomy beside him. He still wore his hat, without it he’d feel completely naked.

Lian’s tent had fallen into a state of disarray with his Pearl Clan uniform tossed carelessly onto the bed that could no longer support his weight, blankets strewn about on the floor and neatly arranged shelves of stones and minerals gathering dust. A lantern that hadn’t been used in some time sat upon a table next to his uneaten lunch.

Dawn closed the door behind her to avoid letting the heat escape, once again plunging the tent into darkness. She strode towards him before stumbling, her foot caught on one of the many blankets he had left lying around for his makeshift nest.

“May I put on a light?” the girl asked, clearly not wanting to impose.

Lian had no need for a light source in his current state and his partner was unbothered by the dim living space so it failed to occur to him that his guest would need one.

“My apologies, the lantern is on the table,” Lian said, mentally kicking himself for his lack of consideration.

Dawn stood on tip toes as she lit the lantern, the orange glow illuminating the cluttered abode.

“Please do forgive the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

She brushed it off as not a big deal as she sat down cross legged beside him, setting the satchel down on her lap. Goomy was happy to see her, sidling up and clamouring for attention. Dawn laughed as she pat his head. “Sorry, I didn’t bring anything for you.”

She returned her attention to the gift and opened her satchel.

“I went diving for rocks for your collection.”

He hadn’t expected that. Nobody really payed much attention to his lectures on minerals or the importance of stones. He was used to being politely tolerated when he tried to share his knowledge about ores and later admonished for boring people with long winded speeches.

“I thought there might be some interesting ones underwater you couldn’t find on land,” she explained, looking for a stone she deemed a good one.

Under normal circumstances Lian would have been stoked. He’d always wanted to investigate underwater rock formations and having a friend to spend the afternoon with, speculating about their composition and formation would have been the cherry on top.

It almost seemed cruel the opportunity would come now when he couldn’t fully appreciate such a gift with the loss of his eyesight. Never again would he be able to see the subtle flecks of mica in a sun stone or the deep blue of a water stone. Lian hoped his despondency wasn’t too apparent; it was a very thoughtful gesture and he didn’t want to come across as ungrateful.

“This one came from Heart’s Crag. I found it on the way over here,” Dawn said, passing one of the rocks over to him.

He accepted the gift and turned it over in his hands. It was a flat disk shaped stone, one that had been smoothed out by erosion at the bottom of a riverbed. A pleasing streak of quartz ran through it with a small pocket of crystals that hadn’t been worn down in the center.

Was it a pale grey, a dark black or perhaps a ruddy red? Would he forget what those looked like with time?

“So, what do you think?” Dawn asked, looking up at him hopefully.

He considered his response for a long minute.

“Thank you for the gift and for taking the time to visit me. I truly do appreciate your concern.“ Lian said finally, sounding too careful, too rehearsed.

He didn’t seem inclined to say much more, but Dawn wasn’t giving up that easily. Ignoring the implicit rejection, she searched her bag for another rock, one she brought specifically for this purpose.

Time to bring out the conversation starter.

“You know, I think I actually found gold!”

Dawn removed an ore from her bag and Lian’s senses informed him of the rigid cubes composing its shape, immediately guessing the girl’s mix up. She handed it to him for appraisal, confirming what he’d already suspected.

“This is pyrite, fool’s gold. The most obvious giveaway is the cubic structure, but if you look closely you can see striations on its surface,” he lectured his impromptu student, pointing to the parallel lines covering the exterior.

“Wow, you can tell all that just from touching it?” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“Sure I can, that’s child’s play! But this...“ he picked up the river stone to gesture with it. “I can’t tell you much besides that it’s probably igneous. The weight and density means it’s unlikely to be sedimentary and a cavity like this wouldn’t remain if it was metamorphic.”

Lian brought the stone in front of his face and squinted as if straining his eyes would cause them to miraculously start working again.

“I’d wager that a gas bubble was trapped in the quartz vein while it was still magma and a slow cooling process allowed larger crystals to form.”

It was clear from his tone that he didn’t consider the observation impressive. The girl looking up at him with wide eyes evidently disagreed.

“If you call that not knowing much then you must be a genius! It’s no wonder Lord Kleavor made you his warden!”

If the praise were coming from anyone else he would have agreed without hesitation. But praise from the girl turned dewott sitting cross legged in front of him caused his face to grow warm and he mumbled about how it wasn’t that impressive with uncharacteristic modesty.

Dawn rooted through her satchel again and brought out a handful of rocks. “What can you tell me about these?”

The two of them spent a solid hour going over the various stones collected from around Hisui, Dawn listening attentively as he lectured her about composition, formation and any other noteworthy facts.

Lian had a considerable base of knowledge to draw upon, but it was an interesting test of his abilities to identify minerals without visual information. He’d explain what he could discern about the rocks he had never seen before and account for how years underwater changed the ones he was familiar with, adding a new layer of complexity. He was surprised that he found himself enjoying the challenge.

Crystalline, gritty, porous; the shapes and textures told him a lot about their makeup and the environments they were formed in. He would speculate out loud and Dawn would interject with questions he was all too happy to answer.

A thought occurred to him. Did she deliberately choose stones that would be interesting from a tactile perspective? She’s so kind and intelligent...

Dawn finally brought out the last rock, a hunk of limestone embedded with many tiny shells. “They kind of look like helix fossils, but way smaller.”

“I wonder if they might have been juveniles of the species,” Lian pondered.

“No, baby omanytes are nowhere near that small,” Dawn said, recalling when Lucas bred one of his omastars and Professor Rowan’s lab was overrun by a swarm of the cute little buggers.

Lian looked at her incredulously. “How would you know?”

“Back home there were researchers that studied fossils. They could tell a lot about the pokémon they used to be and I was helping a professor with a research project.”

Dawn was careful not to mention she had live specimens to study. Explaining she was from a place where people had figured out how to revive species from fossils would sound far too suspicious, never mind telling anyone she was from the future.

Lian wasn’t wary or distrustful of her like some people were. There was already an amnesiac skyfaller that had been part of his clan for years, but Kleavor’s warden could still be rather prickly. A lot of people in Hisui were highly superstitious and Kamando had made it clear her place in Jubilife was conditional. No, the fewer people that knew, the better.

“I used to spend a lot of time in the Underground and I’d find a lot of fossils to bring back. I think you’d really like it there!”

Lian listened, enraptured as Dawn talked at length about the massive tunnel system that ran under her home region and how plenty of people built secret bases and went treasure hunting there. She spoke of rare evolution stones, rocks with mysterious effects on the weather, ores valued by collectors and fossils she sought after for her research.

“I’ve never found a skull fossil! My friends find them all the time, but I’ve never found one!” Dawn ranted, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Lian swung his head towards her, his eyes narrowing gave the impression he was staring straight at her.

“Didn’t you say you lost your memories?” he blurted out, his tone probably sounding more accusatory than he meant it to.

“Well, er-“

In her excitement, Dawn had forgotten she was supposed to be playing the role of a poor amnesiac girl.

“I- I started remembering some things recently!” she hastily explained.

A flash of inspiration struck her. “After my first battle with Ingo I started recalling some things about my home. Battles have been jogging my memory lately.”

Lian’s expression didn’t change. Dawn wasn’t sure if he believed the lie or not; either way he didn’t challenge her on it. It’s not like he could prove she was lying.

Itching to change the subject, she asked, “Actually, I’ve got a question. Obsidian is formed by volcanoes right? But I’ve seen scythers and gravelers carrying pieces of Black Augurite. So how does it get all the way to the Fieldlands?”

“There are large deposits in the Obsidian Fieldlands.” Lian accepted the change in topic, eager to discuss anything relating to his passions with such an inquisitive student. “That’s actually where it gets it’s name! My current theory is that they were picked up and moved by glaciers during the ice age.”

Goomy had started to doze off, content to leave the two of them to their geology lesson. A thick bubble of snot formed, expanding and deflating with his snores.

“But not all obsidian is Black Augurite. Every warden to a Noble Kleavor has to learn how to distinguish the evolution stone from regular obsidian.”

Lian had extended pretty far out of his shell, drawn up and excitedly gesturing for emphasis.

“Of course, I learned long before anyone ever considered me for the position. It was only natural Lord Kleavor recognized my aptitude and chose me to be his warden.”

He already had several pieces stored away for when the Lord of the Woods chose his heir. Lian was quite familiar with the largest and most powerful of his children, an alpha scyther that he allowed to share his territory.

They were quite an impressive specimen with a sturdy carapace and serrated scythes who the Lord wouldn’t even considered for the position, for the usual reasons alphas were passed over. Far too aggressive and preoccupied with their own standing, they held little appreciation for the duties and expectations the Noble title conferred. Lord Kleavor and his warden would just have to keep an eye on his offspring to determine which of his children was a worthy successor.

Would he ever ever get to present his Black Augurite to an heir? Lian tried to imagine tending to his Noble as a sliggoo and nothing seemed right. How could he possibly gather the plump beans for Lord Kleavor and his children, let alone present offerings covered in cold snot? A sliggoo couldn’t socialize baby scythers and get them used to humans.

Lian retreated back into his shell, his eyes barely visible from under the brim of his hat. “I might have to give mine away...” he said, his voice tiny.

“What? Why?” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and worry.

He took a deep breath, hoping his words would convey his conundrum and testiness wouldn’t creep into his voice. “I don’t believe I can continue being a warden in my current state. Lord Kleavor deserves to have a warden that can properly tend to him.”

Dawn stared at him quizzically. “Because you turned into a pokémon? I don’t know who you think would replace you then. Everyone has been infected.”

“Someone who wouldn’t offend Lord Kleavor with offerings covered in mucus!” Lian would have grit his teeth if he still had any, feeling a surge of irritation at her failure to comprehend his predicament.

She blinked. “Then wear gloves!”

Dawn had stood up to shout, startling Goomy awake, his sleep bubble bursting with a loud pop.

Lian was running out of patience. “I have to fill and bring a basket to Grandtree Arena at least twice daily, often more. How do you expect me to carry it?”

“You can work something out!” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Lian, what exactly is your plan here? Are you just going to spend the rest of your life sulking in your room?”

By now Lian was fuming at her, gripping the edge of his shell and wishing she could feel the rage that must be coming off of him in waves, lest he say something he would later regret.

Dawn continued. “Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen, maybe you can’t be a warden anymore. But there are problems of yours that you can solve.”

He had half a mind to yell at her to get out. This sort of discussion was exactly what he didn’t want and why he had turned everyone else away. Had she planned this from the start? Lian felt a sting of betrayal at her entering his home to talk under such false pretenses.

“All of this is easy for you to say when you’re still walking around, on two legs I might add, with all your senses working just fine and your skeleton intact.” Lian started, venom dripping from his words.

Goomy shrunk in on himself, trying to look as small as possible knowing this was going to turn ugly.

“But some of us have to face the indignities of not even being able to get out of our beds or homes without assistance. Do you know that when I have to relieve myself I need to have Paulina carry me away and bring me back? So don’t lecture me on what I should be doing when you had it easy!”

Dawn stared at him in stunned silence. He wasn’t sure if his rebuke had sounded as poignant as he intended or if he had sounded petulant to her.

“I had it easy? My mom and my friends don’t know where I am and probably think I’m dead and I’ll never get to see them again!”

Lian knew he screwed up. His anger quickly fizzled away and was replaced by an uneasy regret, but Dawn wasn’t finished yet.

“The Galaxy Team decided that I had to risk my life to save your Nobles and people still think that I’m to blame for all this! Do you think I can just mope around in my room?  No, I have to work my butt off every single day if I don’t want to be left to fend for myself in the wilderness! And I've got to do all of this while knowing I’m never going to go home and I don’t even get to be a human!”

Dawn stood there with her hands balled into fists and shaking, looking like she was about to cry.

If Lian thought his ire was palpable, her rage could have incinerated him on the spot. He wanted nothing more than retreat into his shell to hide in shame.

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you over which of us has it worse. But don’t you dare tell me I had it easy!” Her voice cracked as she finished her tirade.

Lian struggled to find the words that could properly express the guilt prickling at him. How could he have said something so blatantly disrespectful to the girl that had calmed his Lord and scoured Hisui for gifts to cheer him up? It was several agonizingly long minutes before he found the ability to speak again.

“I’ve allowed my frustrations to get the better of me and I spoke out of turn. You have my sincerest apologies for such unwarranted hostility.”

The mechanical sounding apology seemed horribly inadequate and Dawn remained impassive. He made a point of turning his face towards her to create the illusion he was looking her in the eye.

“I lost my mother too, several years ago. I understand what it’s like knowing you’ll never see someone again.” He pulled down the brim of his hat. “I’m sorry.”

Dawn sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her paw as she sat back down. “Neither of us wants things to be this way, but they are and there’s nothing we can do about that. Why don’t we focus on what we can change?”

She opted not to mention her studies with Volo into the myths of Hisui’s legendary hero or both of their search for the plates. The merchant believed something similar happened long ago and the plates held the solution to Hisui’s current predicament. While Volo was convinced and Dawn was inclined to trust his judgment, she remained cautiously optimistic without much else to go off of. She didn’t want to get Lian’s hopes up in case that didn’t pan out.

“What would you have me do?” Lian asked.

Goomy squeaked for his trainer’s attention and drew itself up as tall as possible, swaying slightly before tucking his head down and performing the slowest somersault one could imagine.

Lian understood what he was suggesting. He had seen sliggoos rolling on the sides of their shells like a wheel as their primary means of traversal. It was such a bizarre form of locomotion and seemed so disorientating. How were you supposed to stop or steer?

“That’s a great idea Goomy!” Dawn agreed with his partner. “Lian, why don’t we spend the rest of the day figuring out how you can roll around? It would probably help you feel better about yourself.”

Previously, he would immediately shut down at the idea whenever he considered his mobility needs, a sheer gut punch refusal to entertain the notion. But he needed some way to get around. What other choice did he have? Besides, wardens don’t sulk.

He let out a beleaguered sigh. “Sure, might as well roll down to Avalugg’s Legacy. That seems like a productive way to spend the afternoon.”

“I’m just trying to help...” Dawn looked away, hurt in her voice.

“I-I wasn’t being sarcastic!” he clarified. “I appreciate your help and I truly am sorry for acting like such an ingrate.”

She cheered up immediately. “That’s okay!”

The dewott girl marched over to the door and swung it open, a gust of cold air sweeping through the room.

Wait, right now?

“Don’t worry, you’ve got this!” Dawn grinned as she gave the thumbs up with both hands.

Now wasn’t the time to get cold feet. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he gripped the edge of his shell and hoisted himself upright in one motion, balancing precariously on his side.

Lian had no idea what to do next and remained there, paralyzed by indecision until he felt himself starting to tip over. He gave an alarmed shout and flailed uselessly before Dawn and Goomy rushed over to catch his fall, Dawn straining under the weight as she tried to push him over with her back and shoulder.

It was clear he couldn’t balance on his side and he needed momentum, so he withdrew into his shell and took a guess, throwing himself against the inside of the shell to roll forward. He moved forward slightly, and feeling encouraged, tried again.

He started to pick up momentum as he rolled towards the door, the weight lifted off of Dawn and Goomy. He felt like he was starting to get the hang of it as he tried to time his forward pitches, his friends cheering as he gained speed. With an air of confidence, Lian rolled straight out the door and into the frigid afternoon air of the camp. As the winding path through the settlement and tents dotting the hill stood before him, he realized his mistake.

The boy panicked as he slowly rolled over the crest of the hill with no way to stop or slow down. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion at the precipice and gave him plenty of time to understand what was going to happen next. One moment he was barely moving, then all at once his heart plunged as he rapidly gained speed and was sent barreling through the camp.

Lian shouted as hard as he could to warn anyone that might be in his path, his voice echoing inside his shell deafeningly. Pearl Clan members in various stages of metamorphosis looked up from what they were doing, eyes widening in alarm and diving out of the way of the steel juggernaut heading their way.

More voices joined in the panicked shouting as he smashed through a water barrel and a clothes line, scattering clean laundry to the wind. It barely even slowed him down as he whirled past clans folk exiting their tents to see what the commotion was.

His brain was swiftly processing every bump and dip in the terrain, but he had no idea what to do with it. There was no way he’d be able to follow the footpath that wound back and forth, instead his route to the camp’s exit would take him over several harsh drops and dangerously close to many people’s tents.

Experimentally, he tried to lean to the side to turn. When that threatened to tip him over, he over corrected and added a dangerous wobble to his trajectory, swerving wildly back and forth.

The pandemonium went unnoticed by a snorunt boy only a few years older than him who was preoccupied with chopping firewood. A bolt of panic went through him and he screamed at the top of his lungs for him to get out of the way, terrified his warning wouldn’t be heeded in time.

The kid looked up and dropped his axe before throwing himself against his tent, just barely clipped by the five hundred pound armoured wheel barreling past him. The kid screamed as they narrowly avoided being flattened.

The spike in adrenaline from the close call caused something to shift in Lian’s brain, some pathway that was previously closed was now open. Lian gasped as claws raked through his mind like those of a Fox, or something equally as angry and spiteful. They gripped and dug into him to tear him away from his body, to leave something else at the helm.

The world faded away as those claws dragged him down, made him small and rendered him a passenger in his own mind. Lian tried to scream but no sound came out, his voice and psyche swallowed up by the darkness.

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It all made sense now. He knew exactly how far to lean in order to turn, how to compensate for every irregularity in the terrain. How to work with the momentum and how he could stop on a dime. His shell wasn’t a ball and chain restraining him, it was freedom, it was movement itself. Just as his legs had been before, his shell was a natural extension of himself; a self-contained world, a shelter, a shield and a weapon.

With his mastery, he’d see prey driven before him. Unable to escape in time before he chased them down, painful squeals as their bones cracked, bursting open and steam rising from the entrails as they were crushed. Delicious meat would spill out onto the ground then he and his odd pack would feast.

His kind were not avid hunters, typically feeding on plant matter and carcasses left behind by other predators. But he was no ordinary sliggoo, he was part of a pack of alphas, larger and more voracious than other members of their species.

He’d learn to hunt and hone his skills as a predator to prove he deserved his place amongst them. Dragging back the large kills dripping with viscera would show everyone that he wasn’t a runt that constantly needed to be looked after. Tearing and battering, he’d bloody himself fending off their rivals as many times as he needed to until they never looked down on him again.

And he’d do it because he loved them.

Because he wanted to provide for his kin, to be able to protect them when needed. His body flushed with warmth at the thought of his pack feeding from his kills, growing stronger from the meat together.

And he’d do it to the impress her.

The mighty huntress whose prowess in combat dwarfed that of even the Nobles. A warrior that presided over an enormous pack that brought so many alphas to heel and a roaming territory that spanned all of Hisui.

As he matured into a proper alpha, he would approach her looking to be accepted as her mate. Already she had brought gifts for him to decorate his nest;  she was considering him as a potential suitor, he was sure of it.

They were both juveniles, but had already proven so much to their respective packs. Fearless, they defied expectations and met challenges their contemporaries shied away from, ascending the ranks.

What had he done again? It didn’t matter; he would kill and kill again until everyone had their fill, then he would start his courtship.

He would need to bring an appropriate gift to demonstrate his caliber as a mate; fresh meat from a hunt would display his aptitude as a predator and show he was worthy of being consort.

He could start with the dewott that had wandered into their territory...

“WATCH OUT!”

The shout from the Survey Corps girl snapped Lian back to reality, with such alien, animalistic thoughts already fading from memory and leaving a cold uneasy dread in their place.

He had no time to ponder what happened as he was still steamrolling through the camp, now on a collision course with Gaeric’s tent.

The frozen obelisk was fast approaching, the boy rattling inside his shell with the ground becoming more uneven. Lian remained petrified as he rocketed over a large bump and he was suddenly launched airborne. He helplessly sailed through the air like a shot put, spinning head over tail as he braced for impact.

He ricocheted off the pillar of ice with a loud clang and landed hard some distance away on the packed snow, the crash knocking the wind out of him.

Dawn trotted down the slope towards the crowd that had gathered, carrying Goomy in front of her with two paws.

“-ian! Lian, are you alright?”

He was still too dazed to process what she was saying and was busy trying to understand the strange gap in his memory. There was an odd jump where one moment he was on the foot path towards the camp’s entrance, then the next he was careening towards the ice chrysalis.

“Lian?”

Right, he needed to answer her.

“I’m okay. It just stunned me.”

“No kidding! You got quite a bit of hang time!” she exclaimed, setting Goomy down beside her.

All things considered, Lian supposed that could have gone much worse. Already he was thinking of what he could have done better. The boy turned sliggoo now had some understanding of what proper direction and movement would entail, more than his practice session alone could have taught him.

Deep down, Lian knew that if he looked inside himself he’d find all the information he needed. His body would no longer feel like a stranger to him and he would be free to use any move he had at his disposal. Everything about being a sliggoo would become second nature.

Such a deal would come at a terrible cost, one he’d never willingly accept, but Lian was beginning to suspect that he frankly didn’t have a choice in the matter.

There was a loud crack that rang through the camp that sounded like an ice sheet breaking. Lian and the rest of the Pearl Clan immediately went on the alert, always vigilant for such a sound as it signalled the possibility of an avalanche.

The mountains surrounding the camp and their slopes were shaped in such a way that they usually directed avalanches away from the settlement, having been sculpted by a Noble Avalugg long ago. The camp was not at risk of being buried, but even the small ones that came down the settlement’s side could be dangerous.

The gathered clan members were trying to locate the source as they rounded up children and elders, prepared to evacuate them to safety until a girl with buneary ears shouted “Look!” pointing to a large fracture in the ice encasing Gaeric’s tent.

D-did... did I do that?

As the minutes crawled by, more tiny cracks spread out and bits of ice chipped and broke off. Though a slow process, the shards that fell off melted supernaturally fast, gone in a matter of seconds.

Any thought of spending the afternoon on practice was long gone as the Pearl Clan gathered, barely daring to breathe as they waited to see what emerged.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“It has trouble drawing a line between friends and food. It will calmly try to melt and eat even those it gets along well with.”

[fainthedcherry]

Haven't posted these 2 lil bbys anywhere yet, I think!! Soo let me post something, to try to get back into the habit. I don't think it's a secret, that I hate social media and mostlyyyy do not like posting on it, plus it's hard for me to keep up with algorithms. I wanna be my own artist, without algos, to determine, whether people see my stuff or not. I guess it's an advantage, starting so small again. On some days, I was embarrassed to post stuff, on others I wanted to be seen by everyone under the sun. So let me just...Post something for the sake of myself.

(This drawing is almost a year old again, fresh posts will be rare from someone like me with low energy btw, to new people visiting my page by some sheer stroke of luck)

I made this back when like...I freshly changed my chibi style again, to something I'm more happy with.

I love drawing Chloe and Leo together but....I still yearn the day, where Finn and Marco overtake via "most images" category on TH. I just can't stand to see Chloe is my most-drawn character. I do NOT want to accept that fact. I want C.I.Ta or my boys to stay on top. I don't even LIKE Chloe that much, which I think, bothers me to the core, that she has so many drawings to begin with. My fault ofc, that she's so easy to draw as well. But that begs the question, why I keep putting my more detailed charas along with someone like her together sdfgkjsdg.

One thing I might need to get rid of btw, is my bad tendencies to CONSTANTLY write long descs. Like idk. Does anyone read these? Should I just..Stop adding these? Even though I love rambling? Does it stop people from looking at my art? You can let me know, if you want. I spend 1-2 hrs just...Putting down my process and my thoughts about a drawing down here. But I'm not sure, if people want that. Yes, it's my blog and all, but I try to keep it more professional and high-key here, unlike my Insta, which is just...My garbage dump basically, 0 fricks given.

Anyway, I'll see if I can schedule a posts for a bit, so that I don't just drop off the face-of-the-earth again. Between all the death that surrounded me and just overall, the many migraines I had last week, I am ever so mildly concerned, about my own wellbeing not getting any better, yknow? Also btw, I am a bit rusty with tagging things, so expect me to possibly get tags wrong again, but as mentioned in a previous post, how tf do you tag something properly anyway. There's no rules to tags, just basic human decency, to add the right ones and not be a scumbag bot-advertiser LMAO

[7ndipity]

Give Yourself A Try(Preview)

Taehyung x Reader

Summary: when your best friend finds out you don't believe in love, he sets out to change your mind.

Warnings: food, reference to injury, brief pregnancy mention, mentions of cheating

A/N: This is a lil intro/sneak peak for a series of drabbles I hope to start soon. It's a lil short, but let me know if you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Y/n!"

Taehyung came bounding through the door of his Aunt's bakery, full of his usual infectious enthusiasm as he quickly greeted her and made his way behind the counter to you.

"I need to talk to you." He said, leaning up next to you as you finished prepping a tray of mini cheesecakes.

"Tae, I'm working." You brushed past him, slipping the tray into the oven as you spoke.

"But I need a favor!" He whined, following after you.

"The last time you said that, I ended up needing stitches." You said, casting a sidelong glance at him.

"Aish, it won't be like that again, I promise you." He said.

"Really?" You questioned.

"Well, almost promise you." He grinned sheepishly.

"Tae." You warned.

"Please, just hear me out." He stepped in front of you. "Please?" He begged, giving you his best puppy eyes.

You sighed. In all the years that you'd been friends with Taehyung, you'd come to realize that you could never really say no to him.

"What is it?" You relented.

"I need a date."

"Excuse me?" You blinked.

"There's this art exhibition I'm going to tomorrow night and I need a date." He said.

"Why would you need a date for that?" You questioned.

"Because Mae is gonna be there."

"Ahh." Now it made sense.

Mae was his ex-girlfriend. They had dated for the better part of a year, and he had been quite head over heels for her, but apparently the feelings had not been mutual. When he'd asked her if she would to move in with him, she broke the news that she had been seeing someone else.

"So, You just don't want her to know you're still hung up in her." You said.

"I'm not." He argued.

"Right."

"I'm not!" He insisted, growing frustrated. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Don't you need me to help with things here?" You pleaded with his Aunt, who'd been watching this whole exchange with amusement. At nearly eight months pregnant, she had been relying on you more and more for help around the bakery as she neared her due date.

Tae was waving his hands frantically behind you, silently pleading with her.

"I'm sure I could spare you for one evening." She grinned.

"See? Please?" Tae beamed at you.

You sighed again.

"I don't have anything to wear." You tried, but he just lit up even more.

"I'll take you shopping! It'll be my treat!"

He hugged you tightly, spinning you in a circle before bouncing off towards the door.

"Thank you, y/n!"

"I didn't-"

"I'll pick you up after work! Thank yooou!" He called, leaving you slightly dazed and confused.

What had you just got yourself into?

[daughter-of-fire-and-dreams]

Mammet

Rounds, rounds, rounds. It was a new norm that Rhua had gotten used to. Though for all of them, company had been guaranteed. Sergius would be there with her, and she'd finish work rather fast and with enough time to idle or rest. She was alone this time. But. To give him credit, this was not the usual round time. Ever since their agreement on figuring out what to do with her arm, she'd been visiting the town's most infamous medicus for consults and suggestions. And today's medical check up was done. Just one deviation from going back to the workshop wouldn't hurt right? She'd heard odd scratching on the far off buildings, and she was sure this time it wasn't Puck or any of the new local cats. With a drone by her side and the purr engine already snug on her neck, she made her way towards one of the less inhabited areas of town. No tools meant no work, but she could at least check out the place and calm down the strange hunch that was increasingly making her hair and ears fluff out from tension. 

Soft clicks, like the sound of an old clock, kept winding in conjunction with the sounds of scratches against parts of the uninhabited building. It was older, had little to no shelter, why would someone use it? Which begged the question more, why were there sounds coming from there? A lone, small Mammet had been trotting along in an inconspicuous manner; no pattern to its movements, almost as if it were lifelike. With a tiny stone in hand, it was marking up parts of the old and rusty  metal wall; drawing symbols or letters... it was drawing something. It didn't seem to be finished, but it didn't look clear if progress was made either; as if the end result wasn't thought of yet. An incomplete thought, even for a Mammet. It was alone, which should be nothing new for a 'tool' like a Mammet, but for some reason it felt odd and rather eerie. Near the wall of markings would be a sack, filled with nothing but old pieces of metal, rusty springs, screws, and broken tools that  seemingly used to belong to armorers or gemsmiths.

Clicks. That's all Rhua needs to be on full alert mode. And though there was no active menace to be on the lookout for (other than the obvious blasphemies outside of town), Rhua already had a gun out, safety removed and finger on the trigger. If she didn't take any chances with Jackal roaming about, she wasn't going to spare them this time around either. It didn't matter that she'd felt safer as of late with company around. All it takes is one moment of weakness to have everything crumble. As the tiny mammet comes into view though, Rhua only grips the gun tighter. Could be a distraction. And it's partially working. Her mind is wondering what the hell this tiny construction is doing out here. It doesn't match the appearance of anything made in Garlemald. And it's drawing strange patterns. More unknown shite? ... And this only makes Rhua clench her teeth. More shite she didn't want to be involved with. More shite she has to deal with anyway. She approached the mammet carefully, but rather than talk to it as expected, she immediately turned away and started looking at her surroundings. She knew she was the picture of defenseless. One armed, one gun. And an easy target when split off from the main parts of town. 

 Fortunately, or unfortunately for her, she was just alone with a quiet Mammet who was working away. Although, it wouldn't take long for the Mammet to make a few more clicks and streaks against the metal before pausing for a time. Did it realize she was there? Did it go on a defensive? With a few tiny trots backwards, the Mammet would put its tiny arms on its ring of a waist and look triumphantly at the wall. "a MaStErPiEcE!..." it would proclaim to itself and nobody else; but then it took notice of the woman standing nearby and it's round glowing eyes almost grew with excitement; how?... who knows. "hOw Do YoU lIkE iT? aRt?" it asked innocently, pointing with one tiny arm towards the metal wall and the other towards the woman who approached.The wall itself looked rather devoid of substance, just lines and shapes that held little meaning or created anything familiar. Maybe it was abstract art? "oH rIgHt! aRtIsTs nEeD sIgNaTuReS..." the Mammet said in a deflated tone, trotting back over to the metal wall before staring at one of the corners of the 'art' and making a little 'Z'. Afterwards, it looked back to Rhua for what could only be an opinion.

 What to do. .. What to do. What to do. What to do? ! These are the times that Rhua is gruesomely reminded of the disadvantage she has when missing a limb. It leaves her defenseless. Powerless. Weak. And her stubbornness and ability to power through a disability is nothing when put in a possible life or death scenario. Shoot the construction? That would bring back the endless tiresome debate over what's alive and what isn't.  Even Rhua would feel that's not the best answer. Grab the construction? If she does, that means no gun. Easy pick for whoever is watching. This is something she hates. A hurdle in basic functions. It takes only a second for her to take action. With a swift motion, she shoves her foot forward, punting the mammet upwards onto the air and then moved her hand close for it to land and sit on top of the gun she's still holding. She can't shoot it this way, or at least it would get closer to her before she could lower her hand to make it loose balance. But the slow shift of an engine like sound is all the affirmation she needs. That. .. And a fluffy tail nudging her cheek. She still has the purr engine around her, and with it so close to her face, anything that tries to get to her is getting slapped first before it can get to her. "What are you and /what/ are you doing here?" she asked sharply. Eyes locked on the mammet. 

 The Mammet was confused, and rather surprised to have been kicked up and even land on her weapon. It was a first, but perhaps not the last time. "mE?... i Am ZeTa! I aM wAiTiNg FoR fAtHe-- SoMeOnE tO cOmE bAcK!" the Mammet answered, it's legs locked loosely onto the barrel of the gun as it fell upsidedown like a bat, yet it stayed on the gun barrel and once more pointed at the metal wall. "mAkInG aRt, i Am ArTiSt! dO yOu LiKe?" it asked again, pointing at Rhua's stomach while it was upside down on the gun barrel. "dOeS tHe FeLiNe LiKe? rEmInDs ZeTa Of FaTh-- SoMeOnE..."

Rhua doesn't know what to make of this. They're in the middle of nowhere. In a town barely making it through each day. The skies are red. It's the supposed end of the world. There's an A. I. at large that's doing something utterly stupid that will get people killed and injured. And now she has a foreign construction talking and asking inane questions eerily reminiscent of the first few days of Alvarium and the Overseer. Rhua's silent this time. Pondering what to do or think. Because none of her conclusions are good. "Father? Is it Florus? Icarus? Damn creator of the ANY's?" They can't afford having another creation of his wandering around. Even worse if it's meant to be an imitation of Twelves or Telotwelves on a smaller scale. Use something defenseless and tiny to get people to be defenseless in return. This mammet is going into lockdown in the next few minutes depending on what it says and does. 

ZeTa shook its head before using its tiny body momentum to bring itself back atop Rhua's gun barrel. "sHhHhHh... He ToLd Me NoT tO cAlL hIm ThAt..." The Mammet said, crossing its tiny arms and turning its head away from Rhua. Was it rebelling? It seemed upset. "fAtHeR sWaRd Is My OnLy FaThEr, He MaDe Me, Me! ZeTa!~" the Mammet said triumphantly once again. Just then, the wind picked up a bit and carried the smell of dirt and dry metal over to them alongside sounds of dragging. In the distance, a man clad in white with a hood over his head was trudging along the snow and debris with a rather oversized bag dragging along over his shoulder against the floor. It made sounds of clinking and metal scraping against one another, and from the looks of things it looked heavy. The Mammet then pointed towards the figure in the distance with one arm and pointed at itself with the other. "hE cAn ExPlAiN! nO sHoOtY pLeAsE, nOt SaFe FoR yOu."

This thing is a close to a basic A. I. as it can get. Rhua has heard of variations of them. But the concept of a mammet in itself is still foreign to her. In the Viera's vocabulary, it's just drones, golems and Talos. Never 'mammet'. But as the dragging sound catches her attention and Rhua immediately turns in that direction to see. . A man dragging possibly valuable scraps from town, she frowns. 'Sward'. The name feels distant, too distant after everything she's been through. But she recognizes some of it. And the only concepts that come to mind are 'senile old man' and 'shady'. The kind of shady Rhua would rather be a thousand miles away from. Unpredictable. Magic bullshit. Despite Zeta's warnings, she points the gun at him this time. "/Why/ are you here?" she asks the man this time. The mammet doesn't look like it can harm her, and even then, she still has a cat. It's not the best defense, but it's enough of a distraction. Not to mention if anything went south, Sergius would be the first one to realize it. Classic Rhua. Not noticing how she counts on others picking up where she left. Without ever taking into account her own wellbeing. 

The sound of the wind was still strong, and he was still making his way over with the heavy sack. He did glance up though, but the snow in his face and the wind kept being a distraction. He could only notice ZeTa standing a bit...taller? Then he looked more and saw a woman, probably, who was moving her lips; was she talking? "WHAT?" Sward raised his voice, standing still a ways away as he raised a hand to his hood as if trying to hear what the woman was saying. He waited for a full 2 seconds before shrugging and continuing to haul the sack towards her general direction. He seemed to be still struggling with it, but of course he was, it was heavy. "nO sHoOtY mIsS! lEt HiM cOmE hOmE!"

For fuck's sak-. .. This feels awfully familiar. But Rhua's almost sure she probably wasn't the one in this situation and is just recalling some of the stupidest stuff her brother has gotten into. But. . He's also the reason why she recognizes the name. She hadn't been there when it happened, but Rhea did. When an entire sect was offed by it's own stupid actions (and. .. two Beasts. .. One being her mother). But there had been survivors as well, those that escaped imprisonment. And one 'senile old man'. Rhea may not be on Rhua's level of nicknames yet. But he'd made a point to remember the name 'Sward' and that was enough for Rhua to be wary of him. That doesn't change the fact that he clearly didn't hear her the first time. And the mammet pleading this man's case only digs a deeper hole for him. So Rhua took a deep breath, and did what she did best. "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU OUT HERE?!" 

Sward kept making his way over, trudge after trudge, huff after huff; he even stopped for a moment to just catch his breath. During that moment of him just chillin', he stared up again-- this time a bit closer-- and was able to make out a few words now. 'WHY---YOU---HERE' to which he once again stared out and waved off his hand talking to himself. "Goodness, people around here are so loud..." he muttered, still walking before making it to the edge of the old building and releasing his sack. It fell with a messy thud, old pieces of rusty metal, springs, and broken beams spilling out of the bag. With a long sigh, the man waved off his hand before lifting his hood over his head to reveal his face and red nose from the cold. His white hair was covered in snow, not that you could really tell, but his Ambers eyes looked as if they were warming him up from how they almost glowed. "ZeTa, I'm home!... You would not BELIEVE how far I had to walk to find the right things..." Sward said, tilting his head a bit at the current situation. "You made a friend? Who is she?" Sward asked, staring at the lack of an arm from the woman before noticing her face. She looked familiar, and it caused him to make an audible "Oh.".

Rhua just stares back defiantly. She's focused, on guard, and clearly not the amicable type. Which makes a random gasp sound in her vicinity to be confused for a moment. Probably the wind, that's the only explanation given that she hadn't been the cause, and neither had the mammet or the man been it. But as he's closer, Rhua has to remind herself that being faced with the unpredictable is far worse than a hunk of meat for brains. She takes a deep breath once more. And merely keeps the gun well pointed at Sward. Amber defying amber. "/Who/ are you. And /why/ are you here?" she repeated, this time more firmly, and leaving clear that the wrong step meant a shot. 

Sward stared for a time just processing a few things before realizing that the normal thing would be to tell the truth and have no intention of being harmful. "I am known as Sward. My reason for being here at this very moment is to build." Sward spoke, staring down at the sack of metal and parts as he gestured to it. "These are to help with some foundation to get these walls built up again. My structures alone won't be enough to make them last, and I fear the elements would be an issue." Sward spoke, his expression looking a bit worrisome as he looked at ZeTa and then back to Rhua. "Now please, don't keep ZeTa hostage and let him go free... he doesn't have to be involved in this..." Sward pleaded, slowly taking a step over the foundation even if he knew it brought him closer to the barrel of a gun.

Rhua hears him, and. .. Part of her is disinclined for violence. That is a start. "Structures need inhabitants. Which we don't have for this particular side of town right now. We need greenhouse improvements. A water reserve. And thicker walls." she commented, sparing Sward the courtesy of at least not being on a stance ready to pounce at him. Rhua goes quiet at this. She's made her stance on magic bullshit clear, she doesn't want any of it. And she will shoot anything that comes close to it. But she can't deny the past either. "They found you inside the Locus." she mentioned after a long pause, ZeTa still on her gun, and being waved around slightly while on top of the barrel. "You didn't defend the Saviors. But you're not part of the Lost either. At least not a recruited one." she continued, still eyeing Sward suspiciously. "My mother never mentioned you. And neither did Second. You're an unknown. An intruder even in extremely ambiguous and abstract spaces. /Who/ exactly are you?" 

Sward's ears perked up. "Ah, you know of the miss Second, that helps." Sward spoke, probably dropping guard a bit too fast as he stepped over and hauled the sack of parts to the other one; obviously struggling and grunting between pulls. "This structure...hnng....is for ZeTa....hnng....so he can have a home..." Sward responded, glancing up after moving the sack to see the artwork. Sward paused, stepping back to look at the wall for a time. "iS iT gOoD?... i Am ArTiSt!..." the Mammet asked as it rolled upside again on Rhua's gun barrel. The silent Sward just admired it silently and smiled, nodding a bit. "Indeed it is... to think you had made this with that part of me; incomplete as it is, it is still wonderful. Great work, ZeTa." Sward spoke, causing the Mammet to just whirr a bit and make a little gleeful ding sound. "Ah, my apologies, right your question..." Sward muttered, looking at Rhua directly. "I am known as Sward, that I have told you. More than that... well in truth, I had forgotten... or it is foggy to say the least. I know I am looking for someone, and that space had lead me to hints of it. I do remember a few things though, like your brother-- a good chap, that one. You though, remind me of something else." Sward paused, tilting his head and thinking some. "/Someone/ else."

Senile old man. Rhua's starting to see her brother's assessment wasn't too far off the mark. Or rather, a convenient label to use in lieu of not wanting to peer further into this weird character. With all the mannerisms and wishes aimed at the construction, Rhua slightly feels bad for having punted it upwards to catch it with one occupied hand. "This is the least hospitable place to build a person sized home meant for a tiny construction.." she commented, thoughts interrupted only by the purr engine finally moving and swatting away the mammet from the gun barrel. She quickly caught it with her knee and bounced it down to her foot before setting it down. The cat though, seemed to have had enough of being up and out as it stretched, landed on ground and immediately dashed away. Rhua sighed in brief exasperation as she was nice enough to at least put the safety back on the gun and put it away. That 'someone' else people usually aimed at her was obvious. Save for her eyes, she was usually a good half reflection of /her/ after all. "If the name Haven Hann or Haila Wetyios ring any bells. The connection is there.." was all she'd offer to jog this man's weird mind. 

Sward was beginning to shake his head, yet felt a pull against his chest. He rested a hand on his breast, and raised a brow. "Hmm... while I don't know a Wetyios, the... Haven... is familiar... not to my head unfortunately but, my chest had a tug." Sward spoke, looking down at himself with a saddened expression. "...Perhaps that is the someone... that is what I can think of at the very least..." Sward continued, watching as ZeTa trotted back to Sward and clung onto his boot. "sHe Is NiCe, FaThEr” the Mammet spoke, Sward immediately sighed and shook his head. "ZeTa... I am no father, please not this again..." Sward spoke, slowly reaching down to mess with the Mammet's feather on its head before staring back at the artwork on the wall. "So, is ZeTa not allowed to live here?..." Sward asked innocently, approaching the art as he removed his gloves to feel it better; a few black cracks showing on his palms and forearm.

Old flame? No. Her mother was at least /that/ honest about her old life. Enough for Rhua to recall the names of all her flames. And HECK, none of them were called Sward. He only matches the white haired mystel part. .. Which greatly sells away one of Haila's tastes in men. This only throws in absolute weird theories in the absence of any serious and logical explanation. "Haila and Haven are the same person. Just different names through time." she told him, waiting to see if that would jog his mind any further. She wasn't eager to listen to a weird man's rambling and find out there was YET ANOTHER MAN, her mother may have flirted or fallen in love with, and then not acting on feelings for the sake of her children. Most of the theories though, also get thrown out the window the moment she catches sight of Sward's hands. They reminded her of Eulmore's statues. Or at least, the old ones that were cracking and in dire need of repairs in her youth. "You're not forbidden from settling here. But this place is teeming with blasphemies, rogue warmachina and tempered." Things that Sward obviously should have seen at least once if he was this far out in the continent. "A small construction living in a place like that has high chances of being stomped before actually 'living'." she added. But then, her brain spun another theory, and it was enough for Rhua to sigh in contempt as she turned away from the senile old man. Her foot kicking a random pebble as she did so. "Do the names Rutla Hann. Meam Carus Rhua or Rhea Meam Amatus ring any bells?.." 

Sward stared back at Rhua. "None." Sward spoke, slowly shaking his head. "This 'Haila' and 'Haven', they are not one in the same. That, my chest speaks honestly." Sward spoke, running a firm bare-handed touch against the art; the spaces devoid of texture or marks from rocks slowly taking on an Amber hue as he embedded some of his magic throughout it, as if adding to the art. "Pieces to this puzzle, and not the whole picture yet... like this art. ZeTa has a part of me, that I remember and cannot forget, but it is missing something. The other details, the color, the depth... it isn't all there..." Sward continued, feeling his hand against the wall more as the art almost became alive; revealing a basic image of a land-- a floating land, like the Locus but not devoid of life and full of dark but rather gold and full of life. "ZeTa will be safe here, I am to stay until he is settled with the others." Sward spoke, releasing his hand from the wall before admiring the finished work. Sward slowly brushed his finger next to ZeTa's signature, adding an '-ward' next to his 'Z'. "See ZeTa? It was a group effort, and now it's done. We /both/ made this..." Sward said, the Mammet just beeping and dinging in happiness. Emotions for a puppet, something not common. "...I'm sorry miss Rhua, for taking up your time... my life is to be a quiet one until I find what I am seeking..." he finished, slowly putting his gloves back on and tightening the straps as he tried to hide the black cracks.

Soul crafting. Or at least, the title is too grand when compared to what she knows of it. For once, Rhua half understands something ambiguous and abstract. Because her mother gave such a practice numbers and equations to calculate for at least half of it. But Sward and ZeTa are even different from the craft she's seen related to it. Or rather. .. They're the worst outcome that her mother had steered clear away from. Embedding a soul fragment, and have that fragment gain self consciousness, creating another 'you'. Or at least, that's Rhua's best interpretation of Sward's words. Heh. For a moment she actually feels bad for the man. "Don't let your little one wander out of town. Or it'll get stomped to death. ... Don't take scraps from the storage warehouses either, or it will cause trouble for the other citizens. Other than that, I won't complain about you choosing this place." she told him. It was her own version of caring, or giving advise. Not the best, but then again Rhua never had a way with words. Making sure she still had a drone nearby, she turned tail and made for the route Sward had come from. Sergius might start wondering where she went. Not that he wouldn't probably already know about this encounter anyways. A gnawing thought, the last one for the conversation did get the best of hair. And all Rhua could do was pause ominously without looking back at Sward as she said in a low tone, almost like a whisper. "Haven Hann /is/ my mother..." And with that, she was gone, back into the cold. Looking for refuge from the elements. 

[talesofdricarro]

Tales Of Dracarrio: Act 2: Session 3 Recap

A wooden mask is removed and a friendly face is revealed. After discovering that Ansbach is also a fellow Human from Earth Realm, Kyle had plenty of questions. Why was he here? Where do his powers come from? And where are his pizza rolls? Ansbach reassured him all his questions will be answered in due time, giving Kyle the location of his group's base of operations. He told the group they needed to meet him there as soon as they could. With Kyle’s arrival, so did a great power that’s upsetting the balance of the world, and they were told that more details would be revealed if they meet him there. Just before he took his leave, they found out that Ansbach carried a scroll of teleport. And after a few minutes of planning, they convinced Ansbach to tag along with them for their journey across the lands of Dracarrio.

The next morning, they were given orders from their samurai friend Iji. Orders to meet with the Empress of Cittadina and deliver a scroll to her as representatives of the Lolita Dynasty. They’d be given passage to the ports of Beaufort, but making it to the Cittadina Capital was on them, and they needed to have this completed and return with the information within 3 months to claim their reward.

During this time. The party spent 7 more days in Lolita before casting off to wait for their weapons and armor to finish being crafted. And while they waited, they met a strange talking crow. It begged for help, a wizard deep in the jungle had turned her into a crow days ago and she didn't know how to turn back. Kyle, being scared of the talking crow, swung at it repeatedly. And so did the others until one of them landed a blow, turning the crow back into a woman. She was so grateful for the help, but with how weird they all were with Julio asking her to join their party, Eiji saying weird things in her mind, and Kyle being Kyle, she ran away when they began to argue with each other.

On the 7th day, now fully geared up and with a plan set, and a new party member, they made their way across the Ruby Bay that took them 5 days to cross. Calm open seas gave the party a chance to relax and make some friends with the crew and captain, finally making landfall in the ports of Beaufort.

It is here where they are introduced to the country of Aiken. A very different landscape than what they were introduced to. A cooler climate and stone walls stretch around the land. Ships and various crews from across the world either prepare for cast off or check their shipments as the party make their first steps into a new land. After asking for directions, they made their way to the market district. Towering buildings stretch into the sky, almost piercing the clouds as the streets below begin to form a sea of people. All manner of races wander the city streets and in the center a large ornate stone fountain. Kyle knew what he had to do, and climbed atop this handcrafted piece of art, spraying water all over the place as he does, using the fountain as a soapbox to shout out to the busy crowd of people. A loud bang could be heard through the streets, and before Kyle could finish a sentence, he was netted, and restrained to the ground. Dozens of guards surround the party as they put Kyle into custody. They found out that Kyle had disrespected a holy landmark. But luckily The party was able to convince the guards to let him go.

Julio told Eiji to keep an eye on Kyle while he took Ansbach to search for a caravan. Maybe he could convince them to hire his crew as protection so they could make it to the Capital City on schedule and protected. And that he did. Julio met with a Caravan captain by the name of Mortarian. Striking a deal, they set off later that night, and began their adventure into the countryside of Aiken.

On their 3 day journey to their next stop they ran into all sorts of dangers and distractions. On day one, they stumbled upon a dead troll in the middle of the road. While the rest of the crew worked together to clear the path, the party went off ahead to see if any ambushes were waiting for them deeper into the woods. There they found a large battlefield of dead trolls and red capped gnomes. All appear to be dead except a few, who ambushed the party, ultimately failing in their approach, even though it was annoying for most of them. On day two they passed a nobleman making his way to Beaufort, the party mocked him and avoided any conflict. On day three the caravan stops and the party can hear a loud booming voice scream to Eiji in the front of the caravan. It was a larger than life Orc warrior. As Eiji made his way to the front, the mark that was branded into his hand from the old magic shop keep Camilla began to glow a bright green hue. As Eiji and the Orc stood but feet apart, both of them had matching magic marks of their own. No words were shared between the two. This was a duel. In their minds they knew what had to be done and no one may intervene. For he must prove himself a strong and wise warrior to claim the black blade. And after 12 seconds of violent clashing of steel and flesh, the Orc falls and Eiji is victorious. Just as his crew members began to cheer for his victory, Eiji drops on all his limbs like a bug and begins to eat the Orcs corpse and doesn’t stop till his clothes remain. Shocked and horrified and now with the path clear, the party as well as the caravan made their way into their first destination. A small town by the name of Kelton.

What more does this world have to offer our heros? What will they discover in Kelton? And will they be able to make it to the Capital City in one piece? The road is long and dangerous, as we’ll soon find out…

[of-foolish-and-wise]

a uni survival guide: tips from a phd

if there's one thing i know about, it's college. i've done it, i've taught it, i've lived and breathed it. these tips are for first years in particular, but honestly for everybody. i think it's so important for people to have balanced lives in these years -- academics are not everything. you know what didn't help me in the real world when i was afraid i wouldn't live through it? my fancy college note-taking format. you know what did help me? the friends i made there who i knew would get on a plane and fly across the country in a matter of hours if i told them i needed them.

academic

- figure out where class is held ahead of time: don't be that kid who's late on day one, i beg of you

- use the writing center: especially for basic grammatical editing, which a lot of professors don't have time to mark on papers

- speak up in class: talking through ideas helps you work through them, and asking questions about something you don't understand can open up great lines of conversation

- find a regular schedule that works for you and stick to it: my college schedule was morning free time, class, lunch, class, practice, homework. that consistency was a life-saver

- keep a planner: it's so important to have a central place to track deadlines, assignments, and engagements

- annotate your reading: when you're stressing about a paper topic, being able to go back to what you've highlighted and written in the margins is a life-saver

- color-code your coursework: i use the same color highlighter, pen, and notebook for any given class. it's super helpful

- if you can't focus while studying with friends, don't: i reserved group studying for days when i didn't have important work because i can't be in a room with other people without talking to them. if your school has one, the quiet floor of the library is your best friend

- treat yourself to a "fun" class: art was always my place to just sit back and chill, a way to end the night all zen in the darkroom instead of conjugating russian verbs in a fluorescent-lit cinderblock prison. for you, it could be gym, it could be pottery, it could be some random course about, like, the history of cooking or something -- explore!

- profs are people too: don't be too nervous around them. also, know that if you're struggling -- even b/c of something in your personal life -- you can admit it, and they'll almost always understand why you missed a deadline or bombed a test

- go to office hours: it's the only way to get to know professors in big courses, and it's so helpful for both your grades and learning how to navigate relationships with authority figures

social

- don't let academia keep you from your friends: it's a case-by-case basis, but sometimes it's okay to let the reading slide and spend time with friends. i graduated seven years ago and my college group text still talks every day. that's so much more important to me than the fact that i never finished brideshead revisited

- joining a club is one of the best ways to make friends: i played ultimate frisbee through college and it was the source of so many lasting relationships, as well as the way i met all my local friends when i was abroad

- say yes to things you don't know if you'll like: you'll surprise yourself. me? turns out i love drinking games. and theme parties. and skinny dipping. and rock climbing

- don't be that person who looks down on their peers for partying: honestly? that person kind of sucks. you don't have to party if you don't want to, but actually, a lot of those people are super nice and also good at school -- don't just write them off!

- show up for your friends: go to their games, their concerts, their art shows, their standup nights. show them that what matters to them matters to you, too

- set aside a night to do a group activity with others: whether your vibe is wednesday night trivia, a weekly "terrible movie" showing, or a get-high-and-watch-nature-documentaries-type thing, these are great ways to liven up the week and de-stress

- this is a great time to figure out who from high school really matters to you: you don't have to force relationships that were built mostly on convenience if there are friends at uni with whom you click more. people you became friends with purely based on the coincidence of where your parents lived do not have to be your forever friends. they can be! but they don't have to be

personal

- don't expect too much of yourself: a 4.0 is not the end-all, be-all. if your family or somebody tells you it is, tell them to call me, and i will personally talk some sense into them

- take advantage of university support services: mental health counseling, free yoga classes, multi-cultural societies, etc

- drink water: please, please don't get kidney stones in the middle of the semester, says the girl who got kidney stones in the middle of the semester

- let yourself take breaks: if you need to lie to a professor and say you're sick when really you're just feeling down and you need to sit in bed and watch a movie, that's totally valid

- don't freak about individual assignments: my students come to me freaking over a B+ and i tell them, honey, no job interviewer is ever going to ask you about your second paper from communications 101. i wish i'd known that

- go see speakers if there's someone interesting coming to campus: these talks are always cooler than you expect. i'll never get over the fact that i didn't go see anita hill when she came to my undergrad

- do your laundry on the same night every week: i can't explain why this is so helpful but it really is

- keep up on the news and the memes: read the school paper, the school blog, the memes page -- college politics and inside jokes are fun and convoluted and fascinating

- set the groundwork for long-term self-care: all of the above is really just to say -- university isn't just for learning about the french revolution, it's also about learning how to balance, how to handle failure, how to ask for help, how to make a salad that doesn't totally suck, etc