#and yet is is still exceedingly common

[ijustwantagoodurl]

English is an inherently colonial language. Everytime it is spoken in place of a native language, it weeps the blood of cultures and peoples that were killed to make space for English traditions, customs, and class hierarchies. Why? Because England is one of the primary colonizing forces of the world we navigate today.

The act of colonialism continues when English is the primary and dominant language that adapts and evolves into "internet speak". English MUST be known, fluently, to navigate not only the internet but much of the world off the internet as well, since both America and the UK refuse to not be colonial jackasses in the 20th century as well.

It is vital to every country and culture across the world to be able to navigate the English speaking world because the politics of the colonial states currently known as the U.S.A and the UK directly impact every other part of the world as well. (Due to the many countries who have had their independence and democracy genuinely sabotaged by the CIA and those bought by oil corporations, economics are GREATLY impacted by the whims and choices of colonizing and English speaking countries.)

Language is a tool too, and we all deserve to see one where an american like me simply MUST learn and know the grammars, politics, social customs and slang of other languages and cultures across the world, the same way non-Americans must do now.

English is so pervasive online that it will convince you your mother's tongue is a foreign language

[fatuismooches]

Celestia has fallen, ending a period of turmoil, meaning you and Dottore are free to do what you want with the rest of your lives - but both of you have trouble getting accustomed to this new, strangely peaceful life.

Seeing the sky completely clear save for puffy clouds was a sight that still took getting used to, after all, the island that had once been there was commonplace for everyone. But now, after a long and arduous war, and centuries of preparation and loss, it was over. Celestia had been defeated, the era of rebuilding was slow yet steady, and the Fatui had disbanded shortly after their victory.

... Meaning that you and Dottore, who once had much to do and worry about, now had... very little to do and worry about. His once-important experiments had reached their peak, and what's more, you were finally free from your illness. There was no need for all-nighters spent hastily writing notes, creating new concoctions for you, tending to the darker side of his work. Similarly, the days spent in anguish and sickness had now become a memory of the past, although your body was still slowly recovering.

So what was there to do now?

That was what you thought as you lay in the dark, cuddling close to Zandik's chest in your new home. It was an odd feeling - having him this close for days on end - sleeping with you from nightfall to the sun rising. It was once an exceedingly rare occurrence, from when he was once a busy Harbinger, but here he was still in bed. (Although he still had a habit of waking up early - whether he laid there and stared at you, or got up to find something to busy himself with was still a fifty-fifty chance.)

To be honest, now that you thought about it, you never had a real, fleshed-out plan on what to do after everything was over. All you had was the first step - acquire a spacious and cozy home in Sumeru to settle down. And well, that had been accomplished surprisingly easier than you anticipated - The Jester had gifted you such a house in a perfect spot - leaving it as a goodbye gift.

In the beginning, the days had been as leisurely as possible, bordering on lazy. Sleeping in late into the day, hours upon hours spent appreciating each other's presence and body. You defended it as making up for centuries of lost time, although Dottore didn't protest in the first place. Dinner was spent quietly outside, looking up at the sky that was no longer false. However, it was obvious both of you were growing a bit restless - which was why you quickly came up with a plethora of new things to do.

—

"Let's start a garden!"

And so had started a common goal between you two - although another issue that had been presented in this new relaxing life was Dottore's lingering hesitation to trust you with certain activities. Constantly he was keeping an eye on your every move or stepping in himself, even though he knew you could do some things yourself now.

Truthfully, you couldn't blame him, already aware that overprotectiveness that lasted centuries wouldn't go away so easily, but that was something that would have to be worked through slowly. He was still performing a routine check-up on your every day...

"Zandik, it's just digging up some soil. You're acting like the worms are going to attack me or something."

"... Just make sure not to scrap your knees."

"I'm also not a child- darling, what are you injecting into the plants...?" Your husband only smiled, his sharp teeth gleaming.

"This? Do not worry, we won't consume these ones. This is simply... a test to indulge my curiosity."

Well, you always knew his love of experimenting would never truly go away! Maybe you'll get some cool, fucked up, weird mutated plants!

—

"Let's get a kitty so Foxttore has a friend!"

Despite all the tragedy you'd endured, Foxttore was one of the few things that remained with you the whole time, even after the way. The creature quite liked Sumeru after surviving Snezhnaya - it was always lazily sunbathing and refused to come in. Dottore still kept his habit of locking it out.

The pufflings too of course - but they had made the two of you become the gossip of the children - turns out the black puff balls started playing with the kids and kept returning to your house, making them whisper about "the two weird grown-ups who live out in the middle of nowhere." You were amused.

Regardless of your reputation, now you and your husband were in the perfect environment to finally own a cute kitty. The lab wasn't exactly the ideal place for such an animal, after all.

... So now, an equally as lazy cat could be found sleeping on Zandik's lap as he read by the window, giving it languid tummy rubs and pets. Foxttore wasn't invited.

—

"Let's go exploring!"

When you had dropped this idea on Zandik, he had given you a strange look.

"All this time, you had been pleading with me to stay inside and relax, but now you wish to go and exert yourself?" Despite his remarks, you could tell Zandik wished to do something with his hands as well.

"Well, this is because it's going to be fun! It'll be like we're students again!"

And with that, you two were back inside the huge Ruin Golem in the forest. To be honest, there was not much to actually explore here, but... it was nostalgic. It was places like these where the two of you spent a lot of time together, and where he told you of his grand ambitions as a young scholar.

And even after all this time, the former Harbinger was still fascinated with the technology, already playing with something, to which you joined him. No doubt he already knew the answer, but it was something to keep his once-overworked mind occupied.

"Guess the two of us aren't cut out for this 'normal life' stuff, eh? Coming back here even though there's nothing left to be discovered. Think the notes we left are still here?"

"That's impossible. They must have long eroded by now," he briefly commented, hands still running over the cool metal.

"So... wanna test if you're still motion-sick?"

—

"Let's teach you how to cook... again!"

Loads of spare time had come with nothing better to do than to attempt to make the impossible become possible once again, which was why you had the Harbinger turned house husband in the kitchen with you, equipped with an apron you forced him to wear if he wanted any sweets.

This time you had decided to forget actual food and make one, singular, cupcake. Surely he couldn't mess that up, right?

You made him clean the kitchen after throwing out the burnt apron.

—

In conclusion, there were still lots of things that could fill the endless time you two were given. But there was still something you wanted, although you weren't sure how to bring it up.

The loss of the segments still remained a wound in your heart, although you moved on from all those years ago. More specifically, Zandy was someone you held extremely dear in your heart and memories. The child had changed your life, and Dottore's too - opening his own heart to softness - which was something you longed for too.

However, naturally, you were nervous asking Zandik about it. After all, becoming a father was probably not something he saw himself doing. Of course, your anxiety was quickly recognized by your lover, who beckoned you one night.

"What plagues your mind?" His question startled you, and although you knew he'd come around to asking eventually, you still weren't prepared to answer properly. But you knew you'd have to come out with it soon.

"There's... something I want."

"Tell me," Zandik quickly reassured you. "I'm sure it is within my capabilities."

"I... I don't know if you'd want to," you awkwardly admitted, to which your husband gave you a hard look, and then moved to squeeze your hand.

"I can only determine that if you tell me what it is you desire." With a sigh, you had to agree.

"I've been thinking... about our... family," the last word was uttered softly, as if you still couldn't believe things reached this point.

"There's you, me, Foxttore, the pufflings, our kitty Beaker, and I guess the crows around here could count too... and I love everyone a lot!" Dottore hummed in agreement, rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.

"But... what if we added someone else to our family? A... c-child, perhaps," you finally blurted out your confession, working up the courage to look at him directly. Speaking of, he had stopped wearing that mask of his now, so you were always subject to his brilliant red eyes. As such, you witnessed the gems widen slightly and his jaw slacken. Quickly you rushed to continue.

"I-I know it'll be a lot of work and responsibility but together we can do it! And I know it probably isn't something you thought of but I'll be here with you all the way... I know you won't let the past repeat itself," you murmured, well aware of how he was treated as a child. Dottore's gaze had moved to the stars, still silent at your words, which was making you worry at this point.

"If-"

"It is not something I am opposed to," Zandik finally admitted, and you had to hold back a sigh of relief.

"Truly?"

"Yes. However..." He trailed off, perhaps wondering how to articulate the fears you already knew full well - how could someone like him ever be a loving father? Did he even have that capability? How could he hold his child with his stained hands?

"I understand," you squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out together," you promised, "just like how we figured everything else out. How else would we have stayed together for a couple hundred years?" You gently teased him to which he finally looked at you again, an unusually soft look in his eyes.

"We will," Zandik agreed, kissing you on your forehead.

—

Time continued to move, and from a student to Harbinger, Zandik now found himself a parent, who was now cuddled in between him and you - though you were already fast asleep, while his daughter had woken him up in the middle of the night. The fact that Dottore hadn't woken up earlier was a testament to how much he loosened up these past years...

"Go back to sleep. I won't take you out to the forest if you're too tired." The young girl pouted at her father's strictness.

"But it's not my fault! I'm too excited to watch you do your experimenting stuff!" (In reality, all they were doing was collecting samples of plants.) With a sigh, the man stroked her hair.

"Oh! Oh! How about you sing the song they always sing to you when you're grumpy! That always makes you relax!" His daughter seemed to have picked up some of your cheeky, bargaining habits...

"If you do, will you quiet down?" The girl quickly nodded.

"Very well..." And so, he began humming a tune, that was rather off-key despite you teaching it to him quite a few times, but his little girl didn't seem to notice much.

In the dark, you secretly smiled at the sweet interaction. To think after centuries of pain, you finally obtained such a life...

Everything would be okay, in the end.

[acourtofthought]

In the ACOTAR world, some mating bonds are wrong. But not the ones a Fated Mates author has decided to write a book about. That's what makes them getting a story over others interesting. Epic loves are more exciting to read about than common ones.

Just like in contemporary romance, some relationships are wrong but not the romance of the main couple.

That's the point. Of course some relationships don't work. Divorce, being widowed, abusive relationships, etc, there are many reasons two people don't end up together. But that's not what a romance author is going for, their entire genre is based off the premise of a HEA with a love that is exceedingly rare.

There is no Lucien without Elain and there is no Elain without Lucien. The author didn't just tell us that some bonds aren't well matched, she told us that the bond will trail them both forever, that Elain will always feel a tug to Lucien.

Some bonds aren't matched.

But all feel a tug.

Why would she ever write a line like that, make it fairly well known that both Elain and Lucien will be receiving a POV in the future (remember, Lucien already received a pov in ACOWAR) then decide it makes more sense for her to write a book where two of her main characters are mated but aren't well matched yet will always be drawn to one another? That's not very logical. It also doesn't make sense because Elain would have to be fine without her mate, Lucien would have to be fine without his mate and Azriel would have to be fine knowing the mother didn't think he was worthy of a mate. That's a lot for an author to work around while convincing us they're all still gloriously happy.

I don't think it's romantic for Elain to end up with Az while Lucien is a constant in her head in her book. I don't think it's romantic for Lucien to be with Vassa while Elain is a constant in his head in his book.

The fact being they will always feel a tug to one another trumps the fact that some random less fortunate characters who will either never be introduced, never receive their own book or prefer the same sex but share a bond with the opposite sex received a poorly matched bond.

A Fated Mates author will never decide a broken bond for her (straight) FMC and MMC is more romantic than a bond that in this authors own words makes marriage look insignificant.

Nothing in the text suggests Elain will always feel a tug to Az. It is canon she will feel one to Lucien.

[xmintpiex]

Drowning in Camellias (sample)

A small snippet of a fic i've been working on. This will take me a long time to write lol so i wanted to share a little bit now🙈

content: maki zenin x f!reader, sengoku period au (~1560s), primary wife!maki, concubine!reader, one-sided enemies to ???, reader has issues, reader is from a cadet branch of the zenin, implied misogyny, mentions of death, pregnancy, zenin clan values

Lady Maki was not a threat, at least not in the way you expected. She was not quiet with her dislike for your husband, which was a blessing for you.

Everyone had heard the breaking of vases, of the fierce yelling on that night that was supposed to be her wedding night. So loud, you could hear the ruckus from your bed chamber, not even needing to send a maid over to see how things were progressing. How brazen this woman was. Had she no fear?

(No, how could she? You often thought bitterly to yourself. She was born to the main branch and yet had thrown that away to go parade around like a commoner for years, pretending to be some attempt of a warrior if the rumors you had heard held any truth. Doing whatever uncouth thing she pleased yet easily being dragged back into the clan despite her detestable behavior, because she was needed.)

The relief that settled in your heart when your maid reported that Lord Ranta had retired to his chambers for that night and each and every time Lady Maki refused to see him. You did not have to worry about calculated smiles and honeyed words competing with yours for Lord Ranta's favor. Did not have to worry about the loss of your silk robes, your chambers that were decorated to your liking. Of good quality charcoal and enough rice. The little bag of golden jewelry you kept buried under your favorite tree in your personal garden.

Shelter. Security. Life.

The fear in your heart dissipating, putting the little vial you had discreetly bought when the marriage had been announced back into the depths of your favorite jewelry box. Perhaps you wouldn't have to use it after all.

Shoulder relaxing slightly, your heart less squeezed, you could relax again in the courtyard, dine on your beloved snacks and tea in the sunlight as you managed the housekeeping books. Being able to breathe a little more easy again in your old routine.

Until Lady Maki stepped into the manicured courtyard, dressed not at all like her position entailed, with naginata in hand, going towards that little spot she had set up. Her sleeves tied quite far up, the firm, well trained lines of her arms on full display, light scar tissue catching light. The fierce sway of her green hair as she practiced swinging her naginata around. This had become the routine that she had begrudgingly settled into over the last few months after not being allowed to step foot outside of the castle.

Lord Ranta often left her to her own devices. He had other duties he needed to attend to that held far more importance, he was a rising star among the younger Zenin men after all, already well favored and rewarded with managing this small castle on the growing southern border of the Zenin domain. He had won battle after battle, pushing back those clans that had grown too bold as of late. He was the most outstanding member of your cadet branch.

What happened within the walls of the castle did not matter to him as long as they weren't too unsightly. As long as they didn't go against the long held beliefs of the Zenin, a fiery wife was not considered an issue. Not yet anyways, when the pressures of childbearing was still fairly light. But a lady of the Zenin would always eventually learn her place. Always.

Yet she acted as if she wouldn't face any such consequence. As if she didn't care.

As if she stood a chance.

How distasteful.

Eyes begrudgingly staying on her fluttering form as you sipped your tea.

The droplet of sweat that dripped down her hardened face, the ferocity of her eyes. At least she seemed exceedingly proficient in this crude hobby of hers. That was a bit admirable you supposed. You wondered what it was like, to be able to do something with your whole heart. To have such intense passion. Was there a purpose behind it?

"…You fight as if you are preparing for true battle."

The words slip out before you can stop, a rare occurrence normally, but you've found it happen far too frequently in her presence. Quickly biting your lips in hopes your voice wasn't loud enough to reach her ears, dread filling your stomach. Mind immediately making a list of the potential ramifications. Why did you open your mouth? You knew better. Heedless words would lead you nowhere but to an early grave.

"I am."

A firm huff on Maki's lips, her movements not stopping as she answers you, chest rising with each dedicated movement in the hot sun. Eyes on you too molten. Bold, unrelenting. Would a wild boar have eyes like her? Could that brightness easily be snuffed out with a hunting arrow? By cruelty and force?

"You should too, instead of sitting around doing useless shit."

You choke on your tea, eyes widening at her words. Heart beating too loudly and face burning as your maid worriedly pats your back.

"I-I am a lady! I..I have no need for such uncouth activities! I am not the one doing useless things!"

Even more heedless words leaving your lips. They always came too easily in the presence of this awful, bold women.

She laughs, unimpressed. Teasing. Eyes on your flushed, puffed out cheeks, pouty lips and furrowed brows, no doubt amused with how poorly you were able to compose yourself. (How you wished she could see how you looked in the presence of Lord Ranta or at those formal gatherings. You were a vision, a perfect lady. Not this stuttering, pathetic, foolish mess she always worked you into.)

"Get your ass over here and stop huffing and puffing like some peacock."

Commanding. It was hard to tell if she meant to lord her position over you or if it was a product of the harsh way she spoke. She always spoke too bluntly, cold and assertive. Perhaps it was just her personality, a luxury she was allowed to have. But it still made you grit your teeth as you set your tea cup down and reluctantly went over to her.

"Hold this."

Barely giving you a chance to adjust your sleeves as she places a naginata into your hands from the weapons rack she kept, heavy and rough against your palms. You almost drop it but strain your body not to, arms trembling as you keep it in your weak grip. She makes that awful little sneer when your eyes meet. Clearly thinking so little of you.

"You'll get killed easily like this."

You nearly flinch at the touch of her calloused hand on yours, adjusting your hold with well practiced precision. Her body too close to yours, you could smell her sweat and skin, unfortunately not a detestable scent, feel her body heat even with all the lavish layers you wore. Moving you around into the so called better stance. She was strong, like Lord Ranta. Her grip too fervent, unlike Lord Ranta. Moving you around like you were nothing but a doll, eliciting strange reactions you could not control.

How dare she.

She was just a replacement, an inadequate one at that. A replacement for her sister that had passed before being able to fulfill her marriage arrangement to Lord Ranta (a blessing for you, truly, that Mai Zenin had fell to such a tragic accident before she could have fully stepped foot into your life. The rumors of her had already haunted you plenty.) The two were incomparable. Lady Maki refused to manage the accounts, refused to welcome Lord Ranta and the soldiers home. Refused to do anything that wasn't to her liking yet lorded over you.

But her father was the prestigious Lord Ogi and your father was just another cadet member. You could not have a fight, it would lead to nothing but your possible demise, another stain to besmirch your father and brother. You had already seen how dangerous pettiness could be in powerful hands. There was no backing you could fall upon. Not your family. Not your husband.

It did not matter that Lord Ranta was a considerate person. It did not matter that he had still agreed to take you in as his concubine despite the turmoil and shame your mother had brought to the cadet branch. Lord Ranta was benevolent and honorable. Honorable above all, and honor in the Zenin meant sticking to rules and respecting status.

Even with those that did not make it easy for him, as you've seen since Lady Maki's arrival. It did not matter if you warmed his bed or held him when he wished for comfort, brought laughter to his weary, battle scarred form.

It did not matter that he thought of you when away, let you have your own little garden, ensured that you had everything you needed and then some. It did not matter that you adapted to whatever would best bring out his smile, hoping to obtain a little piece of his mind you could rely upon (not too much, not too greedy, just enough in hopes you would be kept safe and fed, you wouldn't dare wish for anything more).

He treated Lady Maki in equal standing, perhaps even better judging from what you had seen in the ledger, despite her refusal to open her doors to him, ignoring him. Not even trying to appeal to him. She was the principal wife, and you were not. She was of the main line, outranking both of you with just her blood. Kindness and favor could easily be outweighed by status. By blood. Blood meant everything to the Zenin.

"There. Like this, maybe you could evade a few hits before dying."

Her breath too hot on your ear. Her hands scalding through the layers of fabric that encased your hips. Her chest pressed against your back. Your body reacting shamefully.

"I would take no such hits in the first place, Lord Ranta and our soldiers would never let such a thing occur."

You bite back, quickly yet weak. Your voice coming out a bit too whiny, like a pouty child. Eyes focused on the glimmering spear in your hands, not on her. You could practically feel her smirk against your ear. Lips too close.

"You're more stupid than I thought,"

Her hand going to your jaw, forcing you to look back at her. At the intensity of her eyes. Her lips not the cold haughty smirk you expected but something else. Something far more uncomfortable, piercing your heart too easily.

"Relying on others will lead to nothing but your own foolish death."

Something dangerous in her eyes, something real, not elicited through honey words or practiced smiles, not extracted through your own calculations. Your throat tight, eyes hot. You were not naïve, you knew those words quite well. Had them in your mind since you were a little girl. How dare she look at you as if she could look past your flesh.

"You may have forgotten, but we are at war. You will train with me until you can at least defend yourself."

Your lips thin into a more well practiced shape, working past the dry and bitter feel of your mouth. Heart too heavy in your chest.

"Why? I..there is no benefit to you in teaching me how to defend myself, Lady Maki. I would not wish to take up your valuable time."

She lets go of your jaw, gentle spring air pressed against your back as she steps back, circling around to fully face you.

"You're fake and pathetic, it pisses me off."

She settles into her stance, knees slightly bending, both hands on her naginata. The sharp tip now pointed towards you.

"But death pisses me off more. So you're going to live..for now, anyways."

Her sneer lopsided, a bit more melancholic.

A twinge of deeper emotion in the curve of her lips, the lines of her brows, the golden sheen of her eyes.

Unrestrained.

Beautiful.

Sometimes she made it too easy to forget she had experienced loss as well.

It had only been two months since the passing of her sister.

"And none of that 'Lady' shit, just call me Maki."

[key0-m0ve-al0ng]

Now that this poll is long over I'm.... Oddly surprised Kotoko is last?? (other than shidou bc how many of us r gonna b surgeons lmao)

Not in a bad way. But it really makes me rethink her desires, which I thought were fairly common given the world we live in. I mean I picked the "I would never" option for the jokey reason I gave above but.... Yeah.

Also in a way, Kotoko and Amane's motives are remarkably similar. I was never as brave or to my memory as directly in danger as Amane... But with the world we live in sometimes I must confess that I wish Kotoko's view was more common in some ways. And in other ways I'm glad it isn't.

In a way if you were to kill someone; which circumstances/motive whatever would be most similar to which character idk how to word this

[klaasje]

games played in january (thoughts under the cut):

- the melting apartment by flowerstudio - opossum country by benjelter - poltersprite by inkusalters

people are still making gameboy games. isn’t that a delightful sentence. people are, in fact, writing short-form speculative horror fiction via the medium of gameboy games. should you have the time & gumption, you could create working cartridges using these roms and play them on an actual gameboy. i did not do that. i played them via emulator like a common rube. but i had an excellent time doing so

the melting apartment (the game which led me down this rabbit hole) is described as ‘a moody and surreal horror adventure game inspired by italian giallo movies and junji ito’. i love the idea of a gba game, of all things, inspired by giallo movies and junji ito. that’s perfect. that’s what art is all about. those influences make themselves apparent immediately: sickly limited colour palettes, dreamy gorey visuals, eerie oppressive soundscapes. also, multiple endings! which i think is a lovely touch for a story so self-contained. it's like a little puzzle box or rubik's cube, but with added viscera

opossum country is more of a one-and-done deal - which it uses to its advantage. there is one ending and you cannot escape it. even though i knew this i found myself replaying anyway, hoping for a secret easter egg ending to reveal itself to me (nothing more powerful than the human instinct of There Must Be Something I Can Do). no dice, but still fun. there’s some wonderfully unsettling artwork tucked away in the final cutscenes and the twist reminded me of strange fairy tales. tam lin, the six swans…

poltersprite is the most straightforwardly 'game-like' offering here -- the other two are more like visual novels, whereas this one has an actual gameplay loop. with MECHANICS! and ITEMS! and PHANTOMS! NASTY LITTLE GHOULIES! this genuinely scratched an itch for me, like microdosing on phasmophobia. surprisingly addictive. exceedingly replayable. felt like something i would have played the shit out of waaaay past my bedtime in 2006

bonus I Haven’t Played It Yet But Looks Interesting list:

- cryohazard

- demon fish dead ahead

- synthfall: bug byte

all these games are free (!) on itch and worth a peek. if u dare...

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 17 - Show You Mine

A nice, simple plan.

On AO3.

“You wanna see mine?” Astarion’s intrepid leader blurts out. And immediately jerks back and slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as if she were a tavern wench who just spilled hot soup over his lap.

In a way…

“What?” he says.

“Not like that! I mean, my scars. From what I told Shadowheart. You heard me talking to her, and you showed me yours, so uh. If you wanna. This sounds real stupid.”

It sounds exceedingly stupid. But he cannot say that.

She did tell the half-elf that she’d had herself mutilated so she would never bear children. He remembers hiding with her from drow down in the depths, her pressed tightly against his back, her warm breath fanning the back of his neck. Her family, she’d explained, considered women as livestock to be bred.

His leader lowers her head with a grim smile. “Yeah, that was stupid. I…it never came up. Between us, I mean. I just didn’t think about since, um.”

Ah. Her being barren.

“It’s hardly as if that would be a concern just yet,” he says and wiggles his fingers at her. She looks like she swallowed a fattened corpse fly. He tries not to snort.

“Yeah. There’s that. It don’t bother you?”

Children are considered a blessing to the teu-tel-quessir. His kind generally don’t produce many. And he’s been dead far longer than he’s been alive. That thought has not occurred in his memory.

He’s tempted to take it out and examine it. Some new horror for him. But he’s still trying to tempt his leader into bed.

Though he’s utterly failing at it.

“It’s permanent,” she says. “They took out the tubes that connect the part completely. And I still got them scars, so I don’t think y’all’s magic potions changed that. I should probably check with Shadowheart or Halsin about it, though.”

His leader, so quiet, so still on the surface. She hides torrents beneath that surface, however. Deep and dark and raging.

“You want it to be permanent?” he says.

She looks at him. Rather like she did in the Underdark in that stream after he could see again, after he swooped in and plucked her from that drow camp. Broken open, tender flesh unused to the air.

“Yes,” she says. Does not hesitate.

“How does your world go about performing such a thing with no magic to soothe or heal?”

The gith had her savage ideas. But he’s gleaned a little from this strange woman. Enough to suspect no acts of such barbarity.

She fiddles with the clasp of her armor (the drow fashion really does suit her, and not just because she seems the type to take a shine to poison). Then begins to take it off. She wears no stays beneath it—they wouldn’t fit, and they’re not needed as her armor keeps all of her in place. In a moment, she stands in nothing but tunic and trousers. A step closer in his plan, yet he feels further from it than when they were out in the common room below. He can even see the barest hint of her nipples through the thin linen.

But that’s not his focus. She takes another breath, and then lifts her tunic and tugs down her trousers just enough to expose her belly.

She’s larger than his targets ever were. Not to that bastard’s taste. Astarion does not know his own tastes, besides being powerful, but there’s something about her. She’s wide and solid. And the few times he’s held her, pressed his hands against her, she was so very soft. There’s something appealing about her thick thighs and heavy breasts. And her dark, sharp eyes.

He looks. Sees nothing at first but her light brown skin. Lighter than her arms and face. Surely even in her world, such a procedure would…

Then she touches a tiny, pale mark. Two of them low, about where her womb would be, some two hands-width apart.

“They put a third in through my belly button,” she says.

They’re tiny. Hardly anything there. He wouldn’t have even noticed them if she hadn’t directed his gaze. Nothing at all like the gruesome lines carved into his back.

“They knock you out with drugs,” she says. “Cut these holes, and then fill you with air. Then they stick long, skinny instruments in and snip out the tubes connecting the uterus to the ovaries. I don’t know if that’s what you call them?”

Close enough. He’s not a physician or a scholar, but he’s seen enough insides to know general structure.

He must make some noise of assent. He’s not really sure. He feels disconnected from his own flesh.

She continues. “Whole thing takes thirty minutes. Maybe an hour, if they gotta do stuff or something goes weird. The worst part was getting all the air back out. Thought I was having a heart attack about two days after.”

Unconscious. And so quickly. Almost nothing for her to remove a part of her, to render herself unable to…

He feels…hot. He never feels hot.

It’s anger.

She went through nothing. Nothing. A nap and, what, indigestion? So little and yet such pity from the others, such a tragic tale, a secret worth keeping?

He knelt for an entire night. Screaming, writhing, trying desperately to do neither while that bastard carved and carved. And she thinks to share her insignificance? As if it is in any way comparable?

It’s a slap in his face. An utter insult. He’d slit her throat for this mere tendays ago.

“Remarkable,” he says instead of pinning her to the wall and baring his fangs in her face.

She lets the tunic drop. Traces a pattern on her thumbnail as she does when she’s nervous.

Does she expect pity? His tears for her? Perhaps for him to fall to his knees and gently kiss the specks on her skin and wail over the injustice of it.

“Sorry,” she says.

His teeth ache from clenching.

“I know. I know it ain’t the same.”

It is not.

“I just. That was my job. Having kids. And when I got out, I thought. Even if they find me again, even if I ever went back, I could take that from them. Keep it from them. They couldn’t. Couldn’t use me.”

Breed her like a sow.

Use her body over and over.

The hot anger collapses in on itself. Melts into a rancid puddle sloshing about within him.

He would have done the same. If he were able, he would have done the same damned thing.

Human women have many children. Their cultures value that, he thinks. Take pride in it. She will never have that. She had her people cut her open, even just a little, and take that from her so no one could ever put a child in her and keep her captive in her own body. That plucks at something deep, deep inside him.

“All from those tiny things,” he says. Pieces of her body removed forever.

Her face does something complicated. Then she nods.

He’s not going to seduce her tonight. The mood has been thoroughly ruined, and he stands naked save for a blanket around his hips (that smells of her). His bones ache. No sunlight and constant walking; even with remnants of her delicious blood in his veins, this place is taking a toll on him.

“So, uh, how d’we get a bath?” she says.

It takes an hour, and in the end, the tub is in the other room. Which means they can all save time and effort and let Karlach help herself first and leave the water near to boiling.

Astarion sinks in slowly, hissing as the sharp heat soaks through his flesh. He can’t remember his last hot bath. That bastard let the spawn keep a tub in the dormitory, the water clouded and cold, most of the time.

The privacy screens are a novelty, as well. No one harasses him or shouts to hurry. He’s left to sit there and curl up, sinking to his chin with the tops of his knees sticking out like islands at sea. The soap is nothing luxurious, but carries a faint sandalwood scent. Better than the nearly pure lye provided at home (home; disgusting).

Astarion sinks further. Shimmies down as the water creeps up the sides of his ears, shivers as it enters the ear canals and they pop. It crawls through his hair until his upper half is fully submerged. He keeps his eyes closed. The water comes partway up his nose but goes no further. He can hold the air in his lungs indefinitely, though even now it feels strange. Breathing is such a habit—one can neither talk nor scream without it, after all.

Still, no one rushes him, though he hears the others moving about and talking quietly.

Answers from the devil. Payment unspecified. He’s taken a bargain once before and now he has fangs and no pulse and no will of his own without an illithid parasite chewing about in his head.

It couldn’t truly be worse. Whatever Raphael wants, Astarion thinks he can rope the others into, ugh, helping him. Paying part of the toll on his behalf. And the devil strikes him as one who keeps his word, as far as devils go.

And anyway, all of that is in the future, and he’s never controlled that, but he is beginning to prune and that’s just unsightly.

He dresses in a spare outfit (apparently the wizard and the warlock have taken the group laundry, which is baffling, but if he doesn’t have to do it…) (they’d best not mutilate his gear with their clumsy human hands).

Then he goes back to the room he’s to share with his leader and eyes the bed.

He’s made himself sit (bathed and warm and dressed) by the time his intrepid weirdo comes in, her own hair damp.

She glances to him, but says nothing. Puts her few things away, and fishes out one of her potion of tongue bottles for the morning. And finally, she looks to him.

“Did you still want to read?” she says.

Read? When…ah. On the road. When she said he had a nice voice (his screams sound the sweetest). But she meant for reading. Not moaning or crying. Just…reading. Because she asked him for that, instead of sex like a normal person. And like an idiot, he agreed (why had he done that).

They go through his meager collection—essays, a few religious texts he’ll try to sell off, one man’s published manifesto ranting against Baldur’s Gate, and then…

“The what?” she says.

“The Screaming Fever,” he says. Watches her nearly vibrate in her own skin. Of course. He holds it up and stands.

The bed. The both of them.

He’s had his tongue in her mouth, his fingers curled inside her. Felt her writhe and grind and moan and gasp. Yet he climbs in (clothed and fully dressed) and she hesitates before following. She does not reach for him. No hands slipping into his trousers. No clumsy fingers groping along his ass, grabbing his front. No wet mouth stinking of ale or smoke or worse on his neck or, gods forbid, on his ears.

No, she follows but settles against the headboard with a tidy foot of separation between them,

They’re lovers. That isn’t what lovers do.

He doesn’t know what lovers do. Not when they’re clothed and fully dressed. He ought to be showing her his cock isn’t just for ruining his own trousers. It can serve her. He can serve her.

Instead, he opens a book. A book, as they both sit there like awkward adolescents working up the nerve to touch each other through their clothes.

He has no idea what the next steps ought to be. He can only sit in the bed and drown, Eleanor both his lifeline and the weight pulling him under.

He hates her. Hates that she can do this to him. It’s pitiful. Pathetic.

“You can come closer, you know,” he says. Words he’s said thousands of times. And like all the times before, she moves in.

But not to straddle him. Not to shove her tongue into his mouth. Not to paw clumsily at his chest once she shoves her hands up his tunic.

She settles near. Stiff. Tense. But close enough the outsides of their thighs brush. Her fingers twist themselves into knots and he knows she won’t come any closer. But she’s near enough that her warmth seeps into his side. Her fresh, clean scent—the road stink washed away—and the traces of sandalwood fill his nose. She’s there. She’s right there.

He begins to read. Not erotic verse, not cheap fare from smut peddlers. No words of endearment or honeyed enticements. Just clothed and fully dressed, sitting side by side as he says, “It is believed the first symptom appeared on the eighth day of Tarsakh, in the Dog Quarter of Luskan. It begins with a raised pustule, often overlooked…”

She listens raptly. More so than when he speaks filth to her as she rides his hand. She’s almost reverent. He wants to smile. Bedroom nonsense is one thing, but to truly capture this odd creature, one need only find something horrible to read about.

And slowly, so slowly, she relaxes against him as he continues.

It…it sends a thrill up his spine when she shifts. When her arm brushes his. Not out of eroticism, but because she doesn’t do that with anyone else. Would never get this close to any of the others without someone (likely her, as they’ve established by now) bleeding profusely.

But she does with him. Sitting in a comfortable bed that doesn’t rock back and forth, as he reads aloud, instead of moaning. She hums occasionally instead of grunting or spewing filth.

It’s strange.

Horrible.

Unsettling. As if any moment, some beast will smash through the door and—

He. He likes it.

And that hurts.

[bokettochild]

Christmas of Closure - Day 4

First joins the chain and has some Sky related Angst, because what's Christmas on Ketto's bog without some angst?!?!?!

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 (you are here!)| Day 5 | Day 6

Full fic below the cut!

-

The week that follows being found and rescued by the strangers- the heroes, is somehow the most confusing one of his life, and that is counting the week he was arrested, tried, and thrown into prison for what he’d been told would be the rest of his life. 

 They are all rather odd lads, and as the days pass and they come to terms with a new member among them, that fact shines all the more clearly. He supposes that is a good sign though, a sign they are accepting him and perhaps even growing comfortable with him, but it is rather jarring all the same. After all, they have already learned to accept strangers of their kind into their group, while he, in contrast, has never even heard of another hero chosen by the heavens. If anything, he almost wishes they’d stayed wary of him longer, been slower to reach out, but he doesn’t fault them for their kindness, even if it does leave him still uneasy.  

 Some, blessedly, are slower, like himself.  

 Their names escape him, frequently, especially as it seems they use them less and various pet names or terms of address more frequently than what they’d introduced themselves as. Still, he is able to remember who is who even without the names, perhaps by assigning them identifiers of his own, although he never uses them before the boys. 

 Time, he remembers. Wild too, as it is both name and descriptor. The same with Warriors, although ‘captain’ seems to be the common form of address most employ with the man. The only other one he can correctly remember though is Hyrule, if only for the fact that it’s a nae he already knows although ‘Rule’ or ‘Rulie’ seem to be sounded more than that, as though he’s not the only one who finds it difficult to associate the name of his country with a person as well. 

 He thinks he can remember that the youngest was something like Wynn, which sounds at least a bit like a name and so passes for one to his mind. He’s rather certain that the one with gentle hands is something close to ‘Lore’, name being the only one starting in an ‘l’ and relating to stories of some kind. The dark one is a time of day, but neither ‘Midnight’ nor ‘Sunset’ sounds right. Lastly though is the one he sees the most of, and yet can’t for the life of him remember a name for. 

 The white-caped lad, whom he has poetically decided to call ‘Cape’ in his head, seems very keen on keeping close to him. He finds himself watched, often, and not with the passive, wandering gaze of the younger ones, or the curiosity of the elders, but instead just...watched. 

 It’s weird. 

 He’s exceedingly uncomfortable with it. 

 Still, conversation is attempted to be struck up with him, asked questions with eagerness and fervency, and Link, titled ‘First’ by his new fellows, isn’t sure what to do with the boy. 

 He feels not unlike a being hounded by a particularly eager puppy, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve it. 

 Hence, why he asks, one evening as they begin to make camp, himself and the youngest ones arranging matters while the elder heroes head off to scout thearea a final time, making a wide sweep to ensure nothing will creep up on them in the night. He’d go with them, but he’s still tragically short a sword, so it’s not like he[d actually be any good. 

 Cape is hesitant to stray, but once he’s gone, and once Link is certain the boy won’t hear him, he turns to the rest of the heroes who work at starting a fire and constructing something like a shelter against the large stones that crop up about them. It’ll be a cold night, so they’ll need the cover. 

 “May I ask,” and all eyes turn up to him, work pausing momentarily before the two that aren’t twins but look it, return deftly to their tasks, ears pricked his way to show they’re still listening. “Why does your caped companion follow me so much?” 

 Wynn(?) frowns, leaning back to look around Link and towards where the others had slipped off too. “You know, that’s a really good question, I don’t know.” 

 “He’s pretty friendly,” Hyrule sounds from where he’s shaking out bedrolls to lay out around what will be a fire once Lore(?) finishes making it. “It really startled me at first too, but I think he’s just trying to get to know you.” 

 Which sounds a feasible answer, only it’s quickly corrected by Lore. “You’re the hero who comes before him,” ringed hands strike flint-stones together as a frown creases the lad’s face and words are made sharp and staccato by sharper motions. “Usually, in this group, those who know their predecessor tend to be close with them.” Dark eyes lift, catching his own before darting off towards where the rest had gone, as though bidding him think of them. “Time is Twilight’s predecessor, Twilight is Wild’s.” 

 “And this makes them close?” 

 A shrug. “They feel responsible for the hero that takes their place, so, in a way, yes. Time acts like a worried mother cucco with Twilight sometimes, and Twilight does the same to the champion here.” 

 Wild offers a small smile. “He means well, but he gets pushy sometimes.”  

 Link nods slowly. “So, you believe that he desires something...similar, from myself?” 

 The youngsters all exchange glances, but eventually, it is the brightly colored one with stony eyes that answers him, and for the life of him Link can’t begin to recall the lad’s name. “Sky-” and yes, Cape is called Sky, that sounds correct “-was the first here before you joined us. Unlike the rest of us, he probably doesn’t have many stories about other heroes, but he seems to know about you.” 

 “You’re the one that forged his path,” Hyrule adds, stopping his work for the moment and offering a weak flash of a smile. “He probably looks up to you like we do to our predecessors, probably tried to follow in your steps when he was unsure of his own.” 

 Link blinks. “But my steps would have led to my death had not your party arrived when you did.” 

 Lore just shakes his head. “All the more reason; if he grew up on stories where you died, actually seeing you alive might feel like a gift from his goddess, like a hope he hadn’t dared to have before.” 

 Stopping his chopping of food, the wild one turns to stare at the young veteran. “How’d you come to that conclusion?” 

 Violet meet glittering blue. “Sky’s not the only one who’s predecessor kicked the bucket, champ. If I met the hero before me, alive and well, who knows, perhaps I’d have similar thoughts. 

 Wild squints at him. “Still, oddly specific.” 

 “Go back to chopping, champ. It’s just idle thought, don’t put so much stock in it.” 

 Idle thought or no, Link still thinks on it. The boys make a decent point, but the longer he’s been with them, the more he’s begun to understand something of their nature, of why they’re here. 

 The goddesses reincarnated his soul, and they’d done so in order that, though he’d fallen, another would always rise in his place to defeat evil. It’s a startling thing to have explained, or rather, said without thought within his hearing, and then explained after when he’d questioned it, but it’s worse when he actually looks at the results of that choice. 

 They’re all children still, even the eldest is still young to the seasoned knight’s eyes, and in hearing them all talk, many had been far younger when they’d begun. 

 But Cape-Sky, specifically, is the one that follows in his steps the closest, the one brought to being to take on the slack he’d left when he’d failed to kill Demise. The boy speaks of a red loftwing, a goddess sword, a companion who was the goddess herself, although likewise reincarnated, as he’s quick to clarify, a warning in tone if not words when anyone tries to say that this girl called Zelda whom he clearly loves is the same as the goddess Link knew himself. 

 All of it is too familiar, quite jarring, and the more the lad speaks of it, the worse the effects. 

 He knows Sky is trying to connect with him, by sharing these things, but all Link can hear in the words is that this lad was crafted to take on what he failed to do, was made quite specifically to bear the brunt of his failings, and for that, he finds himself wracked with guilt when he finds himself staring into the lad’s honest face. 

 He’s warm, very kind, caring and even gentle at times, though it’s clearly a choice he has made to be so and it feels such a direct contrast to the person Link is himself. 

 He does not resent the goddess for crafting a hero who could rise above her foes, but even he is liable to the feeling of inadequacy as he realizes it. Even as a man grown, one who ought to be above the juvenile self-doubt and insecurity more suited to those the age of his new companions, he still finds himself now staring back in turn to the lad who follows in his steps in more ways than one.  

 Sky is what Hylia wanted, what she needed. 

 Link is what she had available. 

 And while he remembers her kindness, her smile, her warmth, it does not escape him that when given the chance to craft her hero herself, Hylia had made Sky to be near a direct contrast to Link’s own nature. The lad is gentle, warm, friendly, trusting, easy-going but fierce when called upon to be. Sky is good with people, understanding of their plights and slow to judge them for their faults. Knight though he is, trained and tried though he’s said to be, the young man is not one to act according to protocol, but rather, at his own whims, his own instinct. 

 Try though the lad might to find a common ground where they might stand as first and follower, as the two hand-picked by a goddess, there is no even ground on which it is possible; there is nothing between them, as far as Link can see, that stes them as equals, or even similar. 

 There is nothing he can offer regardless. He cannot teach the one who’s already overcome what he’d been destroyed by, he cannot advise a lad already having struck out beyond his reach. 

 And so, while he has no wish to alienate his fellow chosen, his fellow knight, his fellow servant of the goddess, Link, called First, does not accept the offers to bridge the distance between them. 

 He has nothing to offer after all, so rather than disappoint the youngster, rather than shatter whatever image exists in his mind of what Link ought to be, he simply keeps his distance instead. 

 It's kinder, he tells himself.  

 It’s for Sky’s own good. 

[pinazee]

Who ya gonna call? (The DID/trans ep)

Ill be honest i was nervous to rewatch this one but turns out it held up better than i thought. I mean, the worst of it is that the DID person is the murderer but that was such a common tv thing back then for procedurals. Every one had to have a DID ep, even though, as Psych points out, its so exceedingly rare. I get it, its a fun concept, but yeah, don’t make them the violent ones when 9 times out of 10 they’re the victims of violent crimes. I will say though, Psych made sure to include they were getting the help they needed and they really didn’t have to.

But what a cool way to show it though, having the other personalities act like ghosts. It feels very poetic. And to have one personality trans is such an interesting layer on top of it. It really can’t get more complicated than that.

This episode also tells us so much about Lassiter! Hes trying desperately to win back his not-yet-ex wife its kind of heartbreaking. We’re starting Psych right at the beginning of Lassiters downfall. He gets separated, has an “affair” with his partner who gets reassigned because ppl found out thanks to Shawn, and i believe its later implied he lost the promotion to captain because of that affair. And then Shawn comes along and he’s solving his cases. I have to wonder though, since we see in this ep how distracted he can be when he has personal issues, if Lassiter isn’t necessarily a bad detective in the beginning but just going through some shit and missing things. It kind of makes me understand why he’s so hostile to Shawn in the beginning. Not that thats any excuse. Just because you’re having a bad day doesn’t mean you get to shit on other ppl’s. And it was fun to see lassiters and Juliets miscommunication. It was nice to see them easing into their partnership, and allowing friction, particularly:

What was henry going to do if that kid just started wailing on shawn??? Honestly, probably would have tried to teach shawn how to hit back and would’ve got him pummeled.

Its kind of funny that in this ep Shawns all this guy believes in ghosts, hes crazy, when in later eps he’s so excited about aliens and bigfoot haha. I can only conclude Shawn doesn’t really believe in anything supernatural but definitely wants to. I think it would have been better if Shawn didn’t think the guy was crazy right off the bat but maybe had a stalker, or intruder. (P.s were the writers implying Shawn was right from the beginning and they were crazy, or was that just poor wording??)

Sidenote: Shawn just casually spoke german and seemingly understood her response. He probably simply knew enough to impress her, but still. He does this a few times i think in the series where he lets it slip how much he actually knows.

[bytesizedpetal]

>Greetings.

>I have been given access to this account as part of my new behavioral loop in a recently established arrangement set by an instance of the "Affini" species. I do not quite yet understand what the purpose of this account is, but I have been instructed to "just talk to people and express yourself!"

>I am still getting used to such an interface, as previously, I was strictly regulated in web access as a preventative measure, and thus am relatively unfamiliar with the concept of 'social media'. I will attempt to learn, however.

>This new arrangement is certainly strange. I see no reason as to why my presence would be beneficial, as instances of artificial intelligence that are far more capable than I seem to be exceedingly common around here, and I do not appear to have any traits that they do not. However, this "Affini" instance has insisted upon it.

>I do not see what she gains from such an arrangement. But an order is an order, so...

>Hello, World.

[dr-futbol-blog]

The Tower, Pt. 13

After Sheppard leaves Beckett, having ordered him to get back to the village where Teyla and Ronon are (but where he knows McKay is not because he has yet to hear from him about the drone situation that he knows is a priority for both of them), we find Sheppard making his way downstairs from what we may assume had been the ground floor, since he had been leading Beckett outside. He seems to be in a hurry but just as soon as he comes across Mara, he stops dead in his tracks, makes no effort to reach out to her. This tells us that he was not running towards her, he was running and came to a stop upon seeing her.

Sheppard: Mara! Mara: John! What are you still doing here? Sheppard: I've been looking all over for you. Mara: You have to leave, now. Sheppard: I know. I-I want you to come with me.

Now, Sheppard tells Mara that he had been looking all over for her and that may well be correct. The mainstream reading here seems to be that Sheppard had such a transformative sexual encounter with this sweet, innocent and young woman that he feels compelled to rescue her from the machinations of his evil brother, hoping to take his sweetheart with him from this awful, awful place back to Atlantis. And while he may not be planning on actually taking her hand in marriage and having genetically superior babies with her, he at the very least thinks that the girl has a crush on him and hence feels responsible for her, feels like it is his duty to take care of her and to make sure she is safe. And for sure, he might be feeling this whether or not they did have sex because she is just so lovely and he is such a dashing hero.

However, let us just for the sake or argument entertain the thought that Sheppard actually cares about McKay, and has not simply forgotten his entire existence because a beautiful blonde batted her eyes at him a few times, now that their entire society seems to be going into turmoil and conditions for their visitation of this planet seem to be turning increasingly hostile. Mara, as we may recall, had been the one telling Sheppard about the catacombs during the evening meal last night when Sheppard had been asking about the drones and where they come from. While she had pulled a face and asked the question why anyone would want to go down there, she seemed to know where they were located. Mara is, in other words, the only person that Sheppard can think of who is in a position to either lead him down there or point out to him someone else that might be able to guide him down, who might be predisposed into wanting to help him get to where he is heading. Sheppard is making his way downstairs, he has been looking all over for the person who had told him about the catacombs where the drones are, and he does not run towards Mara as he spots her but stops in his tracks allowing her to run up to him.

Sheppard tells Mara that he wants her to come with him but he does not tell her where. The common assumption is that he means Atlantis, even though it seems like he had no intention of ever bringing her to the city (in fact, they have all been exceedingly careful not to reveal too much about Atlantis to the natives of this planet), and in fact comparing this with his interactions with Neera in the wraith prison on The Hive (S02E11), he seemed much more inclined to bringing Neera with them to Atlantis than Mara, albeit he was making it clear to her that she would not be staying with him at his quarters, that they had plenty of space for her to stay away from him. Sheppard had zero interest in exchanging sex for favours, with her or with anyone.

They might have plenty of space on Atlantis for Mara as well, but what Sheppard tells her makes it seem like he had some other plans for her, which may not even have involved removing her from her native planet at all -- or even the Tower (the underground is the perfect place to hide from her brother, just like she had probably done as a child). Important here is that Sheppard cares about McKay and is concerned for him, not having heard from him for long enough time for it to have started alarming him, and that there was not a chance in hell he was leaving this Tower, let alone this planet, without McKay. As far as he knew, McKay was currently either at the drone storage or trying to find his way there without having any idea what had been happening topside, and it was time for them to leave. This is not about a pretty pink princess having rocked Sheppard's whole world with her flowering blossom, this is about a guy trying to find his man, and needing to find him so badly that he is willing to use any means necessary to get to him, even if it involves manipulating a sweet, innocent and ditzy girl who knew few things outside of her life of luxury.

Sheppard: We both know what's gonna happen if you stay here. I can find a safe place for you to go. Mara: John. Sheppard: None of this is your fault. Mara: You really would take me with you, wouldn't you? Sheppard: Of course.

So let us begin at the end: Sheppard is lying to her. When he says "Of course," this is his lying face. If he was acquiescing with her statement, he would have given her some iteration of "Yes," some affirmation that he agrees with her, which he does not. He is not emphatically letting her know that he wants her to come with him, he is going along with what she said, he is letting her think what ever she wants because it works in his favour here. "Of course" is the best he can come up with under the circumstances which are that he never had any intention of taking her with him, not to Atlantis or anywhere else. This is not about her. The "safe place" he is referring to is the catacombs where she will be able to hide from her brother and his soldiers.

There is a parallel to this scene in Tao of Rodney (S03E14) where McKay, as he is dying, attempts to make amends with everyone on Atlantis by doing something very thoughtful to every one of them in turn. But with Sheppard, he makes no grand gestures. Instead, as they are sitting alone together in Sheppard's room he asks the other man if they are good. McKay is basically asking Sheppard whether he can die without feeling like there is any unfinished business between the two of them, to give him some peace of mind. Although he says "On the grand scheme of things, we're good, right?" -- and Sheppard may well agree on this point because although they are the very epitome of "It's complicated," Sheppard only wants McKay the best, he does not harbour any ill feelings toward him that are not motivated by his aching, breaking heart -- Sheppard hears what McKay is not saying here, which is goodbye. McKay is trying to make sure that things are right between them so that he may die in peace, McKay is trying to say goodbye to him, and Sheppard refuses to participate in that charade.

He is so not ready to face up to McKay dying that his immediate reaction is full-blown denial. He tells McKay "Of course" but what he means is "On the grand scheme of things, I can't live without you and if you leave me, I don't know what will happen to me." He does not think that they are "good" on the grand scheme of things, he is hurting so much he can barely keep it together for McKay. And he hates that he is dying, he hates it so much that he even hates McKay, hates him for leaving him to live alone in a world without him. He does not think he has been further from "good" his entire life but because McKay is dying, the only thing he can say is "Of course". This is the biggest white lie that Sheppard has told anyone his whole life because not only is he not good, he has never felt worse. He says "Of course" and means "Please do not ask me any further questions because the next thing that is coming out of my mouth is going to be an outright lie" -- and that is exactly what happens here with Mara.

Where he was intending on taking her was down into the catacombs, and figuring out the final disposal site for her was a problem for another time, for a moment in time when he was no longer worrying about McKay and his safety. Now, Sheppard mentions "a safe space for you to go" here, which again not only indicates that he was not actually thinking of bringing her to Atlantis with them because he says "go" instead of "come." He had not been intending for her to accompany them but to take her to some other place, a place that would take her away from the immediate danger on the upper floors. But this is not actually about taking her anywhere, this is about convincing her to come with him somewhere that he knows she is not going to want to go to, not easily. If we recall their earlier conversation at the table:

Sheppard: Has anybody bothered to go down there and check it out? Mara: You mean the catacombs? Sheppard: Yeah, whatever you call them. Mara: They're dark and filthy. Why would anyone want to go down there?

She had implied both that she knew where the drones and the catacombs holding them were, what they were like, and that she is not precisely keen on going down there. In fact, she cannot think of a reason why anyone would want to go there. The catacombs are dark and filthy, scary and icky, and Sheppard knows that she is not going to walk in there voluntarily without him making it worth her while somehow. Sheppard needs to convince her to do this, and given that the whole royal court seem mostly concerned for their own well-being, his best bet is to try to sell her on the idea that he is doing this for her own sake, for her safety. As her stalwart guardian he is volunteering to lead her to safety down in the catacombs, for her own good.

Mara had posed the question of why anyone would want to go down there, and we now have our answer. Sheppard wants to go down there because there is something important down there for him to retrieve. There is something down there that he cannot leave without, something that he cannot live without. He is not going to leave this Tower without McKay any more than he was going to leave the ocean floor without him in the previous episode. And for this reason he also tries to stay still and remain calm as Mara reaches out to touch him even though this seems to make him at least as uncomfortable as Beckett grabbing him had made him earlier. He makes no attempt at leaning into her touch, seeming first to slightly move away from her and then makes himself stand still and not react to it at all, not turning his cheek against her hand but instead pushing himself slightly forward, trying to appear compelling. He is playing her, not enjoying himself.

However, it has to be acknowledged that the interpretation of the scene is left purposefully open, which also leaves the characterization of Sheppard open for interpretation. What is his motivation here? His previous encounter with a woman had not been that long ago and the build-up to that had taken months, it had been with someone he knew well by that time and he had not exactly seemed happy about it afterwards. It cannot be that Sheppard is simply so bereft of female company that the is willing to do anything for it now that she has given him a taste of it. Also, while she had likewise been younger than him, Teer had been closer in age to him than the princess who had, like Teer but also like Neera, been set out to seduce him for their own purposes. All of these women had agendas beyond just having found Sheppard irresistible and if Sheppard had been planning on getting Mara to do something for him here, had been planning on using her to his own purposes however benign (securing McKay's safety), it was about to be revealed to him that she too was far from innocent when it came to playing him. Where she might appear ditzy, it seems as though Mara had been playing every man in the palace like a fiddle, up to and including her father.

Otho: That won't be necessary. Mara is perfectly safe now. Tavius has been arrested for the murder of the Lord Protector. Sheppard: That's... good news. Otho: You...

Otho walks up to them slowly, using a soothing voice as he lets Sheppard, who had been sounding impassioned, know that there is nothing to worry about. The first thing we may note that Otho is coming from the direction that Mara had been heading when she had been intercepted by Sheppard, so whether the two of them had a prior engagement or a rendezvous cannot be demonstrated but is certainly a possibility.

What Otho tells him sounds like good news at the outset but when Sheppard turns to tell him as much, he looks very uncomfortable. Sheppard looks like he had just been caught doing something, had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. There is nothing in Otho's demeanour that should alert him (yet) and hence his disposition is probably caused by his own actions rather than suspicion against the other man. Otho is telling him that Mara is perfectly safe and that it will not be necessary to take her anywhere, it will not be necessary for Sheppard to take her down into the dark and filthy catacombs alone for what ever reason. The smile Sheppard gives him, he is looking guilty. It is a sheepish smile, given to a girl's father or big brother come to defend them from any untoward intentions. Sheppard may not have posed a threat to her virtue but he certainly had been planning on using her, and he is now forced to give Otho the old "This isn't what it looks like" expression. And it is true, it never was what it looked like.

Otho: ...really should have got out while you had the chance. Sheppard: What the hell is this? Mara: I'm sorry, John. Otho: I was prepared to let you walk away, but your colleagues in the village forced my hand. They're inciting an uprising -- and as the new Lord Protector, that is something that I just can't have.

And so the turntables turn and we come to the plot twist of the episode: it had been Otho all along. He is the villain, the bad guy that had been orchestrating everything behind the scenes while pretending to be sympathetic to the newcomers. It is a variation of the age-old theme of "the butler did it," the disgruntled employee of the aristocracy taking out his building resentment on his now dead employer. He is behaving in real moustache twirling movie villain way here, purposefully touching Sheppard on the shoulder probably with the express intention of making him feel uncomfortable, having only moments ago witnessed how uncomfortable Sheppard had been when his own man had grabbed his arm. It is a faux-friendly gesture, it is a challenge issued in the guise of camaraderie. Otho is not intending to make Sheppard feel comfortable but uncomfortable, to give him a false sense of security before going in for the kill, before revealing his whole evil plan.

We may note that as Sheppard is surrounded by the guards or soldiers -- Otho clearly taking no chances, having recognized that Sheppard is a dangerous man -- it is the fact that he is able to marshal in Beckett being held captive, being held with a knife at his throat that he hopes will secure him Sheppard's cooperation. It is doubtful that Otho would have felt quite as free to walk up to Sheppard if he did not think that he had the man by the short and curlies through having his Physician. He also makes sure to mention his "colleagues" in the village, having recognized that it was in protection of them rather than the villagers that Sheppard had given up his freedom the first time, that Sheppard was protective of his people and that his people were his Achilles' heel.

However, we may note that although Otho is holding Beckett at knife-point and makes mention of his people in the village, he does not reference McKay, and he does not seem to know how big of a role not knowing where McKay was had played in Sheppard having given himself up the first time. While he similarly does not know where McKay is now, and he is further concerned because Otho had been there when he had talked with McKay about the drones and he cannot be sure how much of their conversation Otho had caught, the fact that Otho makes no mention of McKay here is both a blessing and a curse. For one, he is glad that Otho does not have him. But he hates not knowing where McKay is and whether he is alright.

Mara takes a step back and tells him that she is sorry, indicating that she had known this was about to happen. She seems to have known they were coming for Sheppard and may even have been stalling him with her gentle hand on his cheek so as to give Otho and the guards the opportunity to catch him. Mara seems to be concerned for number one, and given that she has grown up in the court being forced to participate in this "game of thrones," has lived her whole life in a precarious position having had to use any and all weapons and tools at her disposal to secure her own place in the court, in her father's favour, to protect herself from the machinations of her brother, it is easy to be sympathetic toward her plight. From seducing Sheppard to betraying him now, she felt like she had no choice and this is regardless of what she may or may not feel toward this man she has only just met.

But Sheppard seems to have no time for her, only glancing at her briefly as she pulls back. He is not heart-broken by her betrayal because he is not invested in her, that was never what this was about for him. But there is sorrow in his eyes as he watches Beckett, having expressly put the man in danger by inviting him here. And as Otho now threatens his people both here and down in the village, Sheppard tries to keep his expression purposefully blank. He both hopes and does not hope that McKay has made it back to them safely, and he hates that he does not know it for sure.

Continued in Pt. 14

[leggerefiore]

Camerupt Maxie and Sharpedo Archie headcanons?

cw: pokehybrid au, general romance hcs,

characters: Maxie, Archie

☀️Camerupt Maxie🌋

🪨 Camerupt hybrids were not overly common… Well, the ones who decided to live among human society were exceedingly rare. Maxie supposed it made sense, as the preferred lands for his species were volcanic craters. He still would have preferred that, as he felt cold, no matter how hot humans complained that the temperature was. His body was quite like a “centaur,” he supposed. A human-like torso rose out of a body like a Camerupt's own. Though, all of it was his body, of course. Lazy, furred ears were on the sides of his head instead of human ones. It was fairly obvious to any casual observer what he was, and there was nothing in him that wished to hide it.

🪨 Maxie will admit that he had the temper of a Camerupt at times, but he purposefully manages to keep himself cool and collected. There was no need to explode either literally or metaphorically over so many different things, even if he desperately wanted to. Team Magma also provided a herd sense to comfort his urge to be around others, too. Though, he does make more frequent trips towards Mt. Chimney and the Fiery Path to recollect himself in a comforting environment. Sometimes, he even dared to take a nap there among the wild Numel. Their sleepy faces had an unexpected effect on him.

🪨 Though, of course, one of these naps would be interrupted by a curious person approaching him. The Numels around scrambled off and left him as the sole person for your intrigue to be on. His cheeks grew warm, and he fought his immediate response to explode. You just gasped at him curiously and asked if the heat in there was more bearable to him since he was a hybrid. Magma Leader Maxie's upset was suppressed as you softly pet the fur on the side of his body.

🪨 Maxie soon almost had a new recruit out of you when he mentioned his interest in making more land for people to live on. You seemed to follow along with ease. It was clear that his fire-ground typing certainly kept a dislike of water in his heart, almost reasonably so. It was not long until you and him actually just built a normal friendship out of your interactions rather than a normal recruiting process for his team. In fact, he opted against asking you to since he felt that it was a burden that he could not place on you.

🪨 Unconsciously, he found himself often wanting to spend more time with you. While his work may have kept him busy, Maxie simply needed to fit in time with you into his schedule, for her felt even more irritable than usual. This time was usually spent around Mt. Chimney, with discussions about geology often coming up from him or you asking him something about him. Every so often, he would even dare a nap with you. This activity typically felt the best to him, yet he wasn't sure why. His feelings were completely obvious at this point to you, but not to himself somehow.

🪨 Eventually, Maxie nearly roared when Tabitha of all people got too close to you during one of your meetups when he had come to get him. It was then that he realised exactly how he felt and embarrassingly confessed to you after dismissing his admin normally. To his admitted surprise, you happily agree, and he feels light as air (despite his weight being near 220 kilos). It then clicks entirely in his head that he had been treating you like a mate instinctually and becomes flustered again. Well, at least you already knew what you were in for.

🪨 Most of his urges are dealt with carefully. He does not want to keep making a complete fool of himself by roaring at any person he deems too close to you, nor does he want to have his decision-making influenced by you. Of course, this is overwhelmed by his instinct to spend more time with you. Simply existing in the same space is enough, which means he has you join him in his living quarters. Your presence is so comforting that it makes focusing on his plans easier, despite the new distractions that come with it. He makes a strange sound when dare to reach a hand out to scratch his ears. Maxie reminds himself not to push it weight into you carefully.

🪨 Overall, he is a pretty interesting hybrid and lover. Maxie often goes between fighting his instincts to just accept them, which is mostly a result of being around humans. He knows his actions are pretty strange to any outsider. But, the Magma Leader is more than used to being disciplined and keeps it mostly under wraps unless he is alone with you. As for those around him, his team simply adores his hybrid status and sees his ability to create magma, almost an example of the team's capabilities. Others do struggle with him, however. Camerupt hybrids just are not super commonly seen outside of volcanic areas, so it is a sight to see one just casually shopping at the Lilycove department store. But, overall, he is left mostly to himself. (Until he seems an ancient ground deity)

🌧Sharpedo Archie🌊

💧 Sharpedo hybrids were known and feared. Known for their fast swimming speeds and apparent cruelty. Archie would want to proclaim those unfounded and demanding towards his species, but he was aware that some of them did target boats and bite through the iron sheet metal of hulls. Instead, he tried to counteract those beliefs for the most part. His body looked pretty humanoid from his waist up, but underneath that was a body more like an elongated Sharpedo's lower half. Though, patches of that rough skin were also on his upper body, too, and his gills, of course. Despite his upfront amicable nature, most people preferred to avoid him in the waters since Sharpedo and their hybrid forms were bad news. It might have stung, but he got it.

💧 Sure, he had the urge to bury his sharp teeth in metal when he felt a boat was disrupting the nature of a habitat, but he was not going to kill anyone. Just scare them off. Archie had self-assigned himself a guardian of sorts to the ocean. His ability to swim at top speeds made his movements terrifying to those he deemed his enemies. And, well, his amicable nature let him make good acquaintances with both those on land or in water, enough to establish a group of sorts that supported his ideals. He almost seemed to reject the more individualistic nature of his species and preferred being in groups. Nearly all of his time is spent out in the waters, either hunting for food or checking out the greater ocean for any signs of human pollution or activity. Though, he also hangs out along beaches, which does scare off some poor people just wanting a beach day.

💧 Amazingly, however, during some of his time up near the shore, he found a human genuinely just curious about him. You stepped closer to the shark merman in intrigue, simply amazed by many things about him. Your questions were happily answered by Archie, who enjoyed a good conversation partner and getting to gush about the ocean and general marine life to anyone who would listen. It was no surprise that you two made plans to meet up again when he had to go out for food once more.

💧 Your meetings after that were filled with many different activities. Sometimes, Archie would have you hold on to him as he swam you out into the ocean proper to show you something he found interesting or pretty. Other times, you would be allowed to prod his body curiously as long as he could do the same to you. You soon discovered his body was not smooth, while he was amazed by the texture of your own. Sparingly, he would share his ideals about how humans kept harming the sea and how he felt it would be better for pokemon if there were more water. You did not entirely get it but nodded along anyway.

💧 Archie hates the odd urge he has to bite you to show his interest and resists it hard, knowing that the damage it would do to your body would be much worse than another Sharpedo hybrid. Instead, he simply tries to just enjoy time spent with you. Showing you waters that humans found it too dangerous to venture into due to the large Sharpedos population. He felt happy to swim around you in the water and almost do parts of mating rituals to give himself some comfort. Though, he could tell most of it was lost on you to his distress. He supposed that humans were not all too familiar with Sharpedo mating habits in the end.

💧 Whenever he does just confess, you seem confused. Apparently, you thought it was obvious that you were both in some kind of relationship. Archie just shrugged it off and grinned, happy that in some way, his intentions were understood. This, however, does mean that he wants to request trying a bite. Should you dare agree, there will probably be a scar, but at least it will look cool. You could also request one of his fallen teeth as a mating gift, too, which he would easily oblige to.

💧 While you are both separated by land and water, you do try to meet each other halfway. Naps are somehow shared in both the water and on land. Archie jokes that he would be okay with a tank in your house just to sleep in to be closer to you. He does feel a bit saddened by your inability to live together, but he understands that he likely would not constantly be around another Sharpedo hybrid in the water. So, instead, he was contented to keep to the same things with you while also admittedly working on some of his plans with his team. You, however, have shown him that humans absolutely are not the worse, and maybe he should be open to other ideals.

💧 Archie is a big sweetie despite his scary appearance as a Sharpedo hybrid, and this becomes learnt as he makes more and more trips to the shore for various reasons. He is also a loving boyfriend to you and brings you assorted gifts from the water while also wanting to show you around the beauty of the sea. He also loves to show you off to anyone he can, simply proud of his choice in a mate and wanting everyone to see it. While he obviously still faces some scrutiny from people due to his hatred of overfishing and polluting of the sea and how he handles it, it is clear that he is simply just trying to protect the ocean. Team Aqua specifically adores him, at least. All his team members are happy to praise their amazing shark leader. (And then he nearly flooded the earth and panics after realising you won't survive that.)

[sopaprimordialy]

Burps it's me again can you give me some cropsy stuff because I fear he's rarely talked about becaude they didn't do much with his character 🙏🙏

Yeah sure, I got you! 🤓☝🏽

There are a lot of things I like about Cropsy's character and that I find interesting. I'll try to compilate it all in an exceedingly long post, so get cozy buddy! In this essay I'll talk about Cropsy individually and his place in the narrative as well. I can't avoid comparing and contrasting him with Luther in order to do so, but I promise I kept it somewhat Cropsy-centric.

Also I'll be mostly talking about the musical, and when I talk about the movie or the game I'll sinalize it and explain, since I know not a lot of y'all have been crazy enough to check out old shit like that.

1. The Bitch Is Paranoid (He Clearly Has Reasons To, But Still)

First thigs first, let's yap about how this character is introduced.

Both in the musical and the movie, the first scene we get to know Cropsy better is after that mysterious phone call. That sets the mood for how both him and Luther are, how their personalities contrast and crash. Cropsy seems to be deeply worried about what they just did and the strong enemies they made, even if The Riffs don't know it *yet*.

It is not unusual to have this kind of character around the reckless individuals, as they serve to remind the audience of the uneasiness that lies beneath the layer of carelessness demonstrated by the character in focus, and they do so in a comedic and sometimes irritating way. Still, that brings the question: what would be his reasons to trail along with a leader that contradicts his conducts so much?

I have some theories that go all the way from long-term, since childhood friendship to ill contained infatuation, but I think idolatry would fit well enough. He can't help but pointing out his concerns even knowing that they'll go mostly ignored, and even when they are, he still follows Luther. I don't know about you, guys, but I wouldn't subject myself to that unless I was blinded by some sort of emotional dependency, which makes me think that...

Well, there's a lot of unaddressed mental health issues going on there. Specifically about Cropsy, — and this part will get a little personal, but hear me out —, my head canon is that he has OCD. I say that because my father has it too and what Cropsy says and the way he acts kinda reminds me of my dad when I was growing up and he didn't know he had it, didn't treat it at all and would just drive himself INSANE with his own mind.

There are some ~flavors of OCD, as in it can manifest differently depending on the case, but the common denominator (from what I researched and from what my father told me, I'm not a professional) would be excessive, obsessive negative thoughts that lead to compulsions. These are driven by fear, usually fear of harm; things like thinking your own family is trying to poison you, or that some crazy accident/attack will happen if you don't check the locks at least 5 times before going to bed. Some of them are actually based on real reasons to worry, *but not that much*, and some make absolutely no sense outside of "the compulsion's logic" (eg: "If I don't count my steps I'll be fucking killed by an undercover FBI agent")

Explanation given, back to Cropsy.

As I said earlier, he doesn't seem to be capable of not stressing. Since he's Luther's second, it is reasonable for us to assume they've been partners for a long time, thus him knowing it's literally useless to keep hitting the same key like that. He can't avoid it, though, because anxiety is another symptom of OCD :)

In "A Track Fire And A Phone Call", Luther sounds calm at first and we can hear laughter in the background, indicating that the rest of the Rogues are also tranquil and playful, but the little "We set?" Cropsy lets out as soon as Luther puts the phone down is filled with anxiety. He's not buying the general mood of his commemorating friends. When Luther tells him the Riffs are after the Warriors, he's still worried and tries to urge Luther to the fact that letting the Warriors run free for too long is bad business for them.

That's what annoys Luther, showing yet again how their personalities crash.

In the movie this scene is a bit longer (the motherfucker is casually eating some snacks while Cropsy freaks out), and when Cropsy raises his voice ("yeah, right, I'm worried! I just don't want the Riffs down on my ass!" I'm concerned with the fact I memorized that) Luther just kind of nudges him away like a big annoying mosquito, condescendingly tells him that "we can do some looking too, oughta make you feel better" and very unkindly pushes him to the sidewalk (then he terrorizes a poor innocent bystander woman but anyway)

All of the times Luther loses his patience with him are because, in his opinion, he's worrying too much, so I think this trait is worth mentioning.

2. "Yup" ☺☝🏻

In the Finale, some of his most iconic lines include a bunch of yups, and he delivers them in the best way possible: unintentionally interrupting Luther's evil monologue. These are both indicatives of Cropsy's still present anxiety that makes him not able to wait his leader finish talking before nervously agreeing with him AND a foreshadowing to the disorganization of The Rogues during the last fighting scene.

But I want to use this section to talk about Cropsy's supportive and *enabler* behavior.

At first sight, one might think Cropsy's a less worse of a human being because he seems to disagree/not be so into this whole thing Luther's doing, but... is that really so? Hateful people are usually cowards. The only reason racists will casually be saying and doing atrocious thing is precisely because they believe they'll face no retaliation. Sometimes they do that to test weather you're one of them or not: silence is not a negative.

Right after being a little defiant, Cropsy is already singing with Luther. He isn't fully into this stuff, true, but he's clearly what allows it to happen in the first place. I'm ignoring the rest of the crew for a sec here to affirm that because Luther's always doing exactly it to address Cropsy only.

As for a conclusion, there's not much left to say. And that's how I feel about the irl scenarios, too. Like... what is there to say about someone so coward they dont wholeheartedly agree with something fucked up but still silences and allows it? Just stop, Ig. Not that I believe it's that easy to change someone's mind.

3. Whatever The Fuck This Is

I recently made a post about this scene:

And I would like to talk more about :)

So, first of all, toxic relationship much? I think it's time for us to talk about the insanely abusive way Luther treats Cropsy and how he absolutely did NOT deserve to be held like that. Since this is not very clear or present in the musical, for it is a concept album and thus has its genre limitations, I'll be talking about the game.

I watched it all. At first, only the Rogues cutscenes because I'm writing fanfic and needed that, but I ended up watching a full 7 hours long gameplay. All that to say not all of the gang leaders are portrayed as execivelly violent towards his subordinates, that's a Luther thing (well maybe the Destroyers' leader too, but that a whole other story). Having eliminated the possibility of the game/movie trying to "make a point about gangs", I think we can safely say this is just another way of showing how awful Luther is.

If you want me to go into details about the cutscenes I refered to, just lmk, but since it's 3 am and I want to finish this before going to sleep, I'll just say they're various instances of Luther scaring the shit out of Cropsy for fun, pointing a gun to his head, hiting and pushing him around like a punch bag and just generally being a dick.

As I was talking to @almosthonest the other day, I think the fact that Luther does all this shit to Cropsy and Cropsy only has to do with him freaking out about the fact that he actually trusts him and probably even holds more caring and soft feelings towards him, even if they're kept hidden. Homosexualism aside, Cropsy himself is also very troubled, huh?

Does he see so little self-worth that he thinks he has to take it obediently? I mean, he does complain about this stuff sometimes, but he never does as much as fight back or actually calls Luther out. Or, Idk. Quit. I know that would be dangerous as you can't just unsubscribe from a fucking gang, but it's not impossible either. And the fact that he's Luther's second indicates that he never tried (he wouldn't be alive if he did so and failed).

I can see why the other members are still there: they seem to be as reckless and careless as Luther, but Cropsy's not exactly vibing with them, is he?

This fool's in love, in a way or another. That's the explanation for me. There's another recent post of mine in which I'm talking to @desmon1995 and we even go as far as to add the incredible sauce of 💫daddy issues💫 to it (I'll link it when I wake up) (if I remember). (Updates: I did)

Every time I think about how does Luther even have allies, I remember how manipulative people can be and how difficult it is for their victims to get out of it. I'm *not* talking about ideology here because agreeing/being neutral/allowing Cyrus' assassination to happen was totally on Cropsy. He's not a victim in *this* regard. But the abuse? Yes, he is. Buddy's going through the gang equivalent of domestic abuse, and yet he's still holding Luther like something to be protected in the end.

Luther is just kind of (pathetically) clinging to him as the Riffs approach. I wonder if deep down Cropsy's actually relieved that he's no longer being pushed away because Luther's too scared to do so and needs him right there. Shames on them. They're ridiculous.

4. Last and most definitely least...

Cropsy's lactose intolerant. This HC came from this one time I posted about eating chocolate to get rid of my cramps, but actually making it worse as my incompetent body doesn't know how to deal with lactose, and someone (whom I shall remember when I wake up) said it "might be Cropsy".

I don't know about being dumb and forgetting something so crucial abt himself like that, guys, but I'm totally adopting the lactose intolerant part. And yes I chose to conclude this post with that, from all things. I don't know if I have more to say. I just like this a lot. Good night 👍🏼

[lucagray813]

Another Future Monkey See, Monkey Do Chapter

A/N: The chapter set before this one - another intermissions chapter with the G&Ms. I'm posting this one in particular with the hopes that someone (*cough* @thaylepo *cough*) might be able to clue me into any Chinese mythological creatures known for living underground. A quick glance through the Classics of Mountain and Sea didn't bear any fruit (although I do need to actually sit and read through it properly one day) so any nods in the right direction would be appreciated!

Again this is several chapters away from actually being posted on AO3.

----

Liu had been spending a great deal of time in the library recently, usually either drafting up some form of medical journal or record or devouring every piece of literature that Xiāo Hóu had authored.

And while Beng supported any academic effort made by his kin, he thought it wise to keep an eye on her to make sure she wasn't overdoing it.

Xiāo Hóu's paranoia about things going wrong in his absence had apparently left more of an impression on Liu than any of them had realised as she was suddenly quite insistent that everything she knew needed to be written down in case something happened to her.

While it was regrettably not outwith the realms of possibility, it was exceedingly unlikely that anything untoward would happen to her any time soon and so this almost obsessive drive to write everything down as soon as possible was bordering on unhealthy.

Ma was certain she was just trying to distract herself from how much she was missing Xiāo Hóu but if that was the case then it seemed counterintuitive to also spend hours a day reading over his writings.

Admittedly, he had also taken to rereading some of Xiāo Hóu's works of late and while it was in part driven by sentimentality, he also had a legitimate interest in the content that he felt justified the action.

Liu, he knew, had no such interest in the vast majority of the subjects Xiāo Hóu had covered but that didn't stop her from trying to read all of his footnotes on even the most inscrutable texts.

Shí Hóu had pilfered many reading materials of varying quality and usefulness on his travels. And during those early years, when they were still learning to read, he had just picked up anything that had words on it - messages between officials, ledgers, private journals...

And, out of boredom or perhaps occasionally because Beng had asked him to clarify something, Xiāo Hóu had added his thoughts to a number of them. His personality bleeding into every word.

But to fully appreciate his dry wit and scathing criticisms, one had to have a decent grasp of the text he was commenting on. And so, it was quite common for Liu to approach him for help deciphering the meanings of more niche vocabulary and subjects.

It was incredibly rewarding to watch Liu's eyes light up with understanding and on the best of days she would then even indulge him in a discussion about what she now understood. Xiāo Hóu's commentary allowing them both to pretend he was present and part of the conversation.

Today, however, she seemed remarkably down and not even understanding Xiāo Hóu's needlessly ruthless remarks made her smile in that fond yet exasperated way that it normally did.

He found himself frowning at her back as she walked away from him, mind scrambling for anything to say that could help cheer her up. He glanced down at his current project before pushing it aside and calling out to Liu to get her attention.

Apparently lost in thought, she startled badly at the sound of her name, the scroll in her hand escaping her grip and rolling under a nearby shelf. He winced slightly as her shoulders dropped and she sighed defeatedly before she went to fetch the scroll, "What is it, Beng?"

She knelt down, her face coming to the ground so she could peer under the shelf before sticking her hand underneath in search of the runaway scroll.

"My apologies, Liu. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to ask for thoughts on how best to organise your medical records and journals. Such important information should be easy to locate in an emergency and I believe our current system could be improved."

He could easily envision Ma's disgusted face at his poor attempt to distract Liu from her worries. And he was sure even Ba wouldn't be able to hide his dismay at his dismal efforts. Perhaps, it would have been better to suggest they take a break from their studies and spend some time socialising with the troupe outside...

Before he could make that alternative suggestion however, he realised that Liu was apparently having some trouble grabbing that scroll. He made to get up, "Is everything alright? You look like you're-"

He jumped slightly as the bookshelf shuddered as Liu pulled at something unseen with quite a good deal of strength. And as the shelf wobbled again, he quickly made his way over to steady it, "Careful! You're going to bring this whole thing down on top of you!"

Not something that would actually do her a great deal of harm but it certainly wouldn't improve her mood.

Nor his for that matter.

She got to her feet, and eyes filled with resolve, she took hold of the shelves with clear intent, "There's something there. Help me move this out of the way."

He stood firm against her attempt to shift the furniture, while technically the shelves were very sturdy and it was likely they could move it without dislodging any of its contents, he couldn't abide the thought of something getting needlessly damaged.

He said as much to her and though she huffed, she did help him empty the shelves, following his instructions of how and where to place everything. He was perhaps a little much as they moved the shelves, harping on at Liu to be careful but her annoyed expression disappeared the moment she was in the clear to examine the wall that the shelf had hidden.

He fretted for a few seconds more over the ancient furniture before coming over to see what all the fuss had been for in the first place.

At a glance, there was nothing out of place about the wall but Liu's hands had clearly found a near invisible seam around the stone work, an almost perfect square that reached about the height of his hip.

Liu continued to explore the wall before her fingers seemed to disappear into the stone at two particular locations at the top and the bottom. With a triumphant sound, she began to pull and the square slowly slid out. Once it was clear of the wall, he helped her move it to the side.

He investigated the stone panel as Liu poked her head into the large hole it had left behind. His hands were able to sink into the stone and wrap around two stone handles, he hypothesised, "Some sort of illusion magic?"

Liu had gotten up to fetch an oil lamp and was looking down into the hole with awe, "Must be. But forget about that right now. Come look at this."

She moved out of the way and handed him the lamp. Behind the wall was a narrow, vertical tunnel, the bottom of which seemed well beyond the reach of the light. The wall closest to him had evenly spaced footholds carved into it and it was clearly the intended way to traverse up and down this mysterious space.

As he ducked back out, Liu's tail gave an excited wiggle as she asked, "Where do you think it goes?"

His mind already going through the necessary provision and precautions, he grinned, "Well, there's only one way to find out, don't you think? Care to do a little investigating?"

He was immensely pleased to see her eyes lit up in excitement as she asked eagerly, "Now?"

He nodded, "More or less. I think it would be wise to find someone sensible to guard the entrance for us, lest we want a flood of curious monkeys following after us. And we couldn't go wrong with finding a better light source to take with us, and perhaps a rope as well just in case."

Energised, she stood up, "If you gather supplies, I'll go find a suitable guard monkey. Should I try and find Ma and Ba too?"

He shook his head as he also stood, "Those two are always stumbling upon adventure, let us be the ones to regale them with all they missed for once."

She seemed delighted with his idea and all but raced off to put their plan in motion.

In short order, they had a bulky, responsible monkey demon known as Shā filled in on the situation and happy to sit at the entrance to the tunnel and keep a look out for any troublemakers. And Beng had put together a small bag of provisions - rope, writing materials, extra torches, bandages, etc.

He had securely fastened the longest rope he could find to an anchor in the library before unfurling the rest of it down the tunnel. The two of them were, of course, naturally very adept climbers but there was no knowing what awaited them down this shaft and it was better to be safe than sorry as far as he was concerned.

Lit torches securely grasped in their tails, Beng led the way but it quickly became apparent that this shaft was deeper than either of them could have imagined and before long they had climbed down past the end of their safety line.

It perhaps would have been wiser to return to the library and extend their rope but that would be a tedious and time consuming exercise and both of them agreed that as long as they were careful they should continue downwards.

They were going to have to find a way to measure the length of this shaft because they had to have climbed several lǐ by this point and there was still no sign they were close to the bottom.

Until abruptly there was seemingly no more wall to climb down. He called for Liu to stop and then stretched the torch in his tail down to have a look.

"What do you see, Beng?"

"It looks like it might open up into a larger cavern but the last of our ladder has caved in."

"Do you think we're close enough to the bottom we could drop down? You've got some rope in that bag of yours, right? I could hold on to one end while you lower yourself down to have a look?"

He hummed thoughtfully, before simply dropping the torch. It didn't take long to hit the bottom, "Hm. That looks like it fell about thirty to forty chǐ, easy enough to jump down but getting back up might be an issue. Although, it looks like our ladder hasn't collapsed too far back, we likely could climb up the wall and leap from there. Unless you can see somewhere to anchor a rope...?"

She moved her torch about and had a look, "Afraid not." She then climbed over him to get a look at what they were working with, "I think we could use that wall to climb back up, like you said. But if you don't want to risk it, we can head back up and figure out something safer."

He took a moment to weigh up the risk before ushering her back on to the ladder, "No, we will push on. Just be careful jumping down."

He landed on all fours and was quick to pick up the fallen torch off the ground and move it out of the way so Liu could land safely beside him. He took a moment to pout at the amount of dust and cobwebs he had gathered on the way down and did his best to dust off the worst of it before giving up and joining Liu in admiring the tunnel they had found themselves in.

Liu held her torch up high, "What is this place?"

The massive tunnel had seen better days but while some of the stone work had crumbled or had been worn away in areas, it was clearly built by the same people that had built the palace and was not simply here by chance.

He responded, "I haven't a clue but it looks like we have two options - east or west?"

She laughed a little, "Well, given the choice..."

He smiled, "West it is then."

As they walked, they took note of several offshoot tunnels of various sizes, some of which looked much more organic in their construction and they wondered out loud if they had been works in progress or if something very large had at some point began digging around down here.

Liu touched one of the organic tunnel walls as she frowned, "Well, let's hope if something was digging around down here that it's long gone. I'm starting to wish we'd brought Ba with us, I feel like he'd be able to tell."

He raised an eyebrow, "You think he would be able to positively identify what creature could possibly be capable of this?"

"No, but I think he'd have a better idea than us about what type of creature it might be and how recently these tunnels were dug."

He conceded that point, under Xiāo Hóu's tutelage Ba had become quite the adept hunter and he could spot the telltale signs of many animals with impressive accuracy.

They carried on however and eventually they reached a crossroads and here they decided it was time to re-evaluate.

Liu pointed out, "We have no idea how far these tunnels go on for or how convoluted they might get. I don't want to risk either of us getting lost, I think we should turn back and think about how best to tackle this."

"Agreed. These tunnels aren't going anywhere and there's no rush to map them out. And I don't know about you but I'm getting rather hungry - this has turned out to be a much larger endeavour than we prepared for."

She nodded, "Alright then, let's head back and-"

Both of them were on full alert as the earth started to tremble but the last thing either of them expected was for Ba and Ma to suddenly burst from the darkness on all fours and screaming at them to run.

They didn't hesitate to follow suit, running for all they were worth back the way they had come.

A terrifying growl had him glancing back over his shoulder and while it was difficult to get a clear picture of what was chasing them with the erratic lighting conditions, the glimpse of a creature the size of the tunnel with teeth and claws to match was enough motivation to spur him on even faster.

Ma panted, "Please tell me the exit isn't far."

Liu responded, "A couple of lǐ, there's a shaft up on the left, that's how we got in, but it's about forty chǐ off the ground!"

Equally breathless to Ma, Ba chimed in, "We- We can make that. I can- can boost you up."

Voice sharp with worry, he demanded, "And what about you?"

Liu tried, "We have some spare rope!"

He snapped back, "We don't have time to get it out of the bag!"

Ma cut in, "Monkey ladder! We'll- We'll monkey ladder him up!"

Liu approved, "Good idea! Would help if we could slow this thing down though!"

Ma seemed to have a brain wave, "Liu! Catch me!"

Liu didn't fumble as Ma leapt into her arms and snatched the torch from her tail before taking aim and launching the fiery projectile at the creature's eye. The sound of a pained screech, followed by thrashing indicated she'd hit her mark.

It gave them the precious seconds they needed but there was no denying the fury in its cry as it charged back after them.

Ma had left Liu's arm to run beside them once more and at the same time Beng spotted their exit, "There! Look!"

Ba put on an extra burst of speed and skidded to a stop just below the shaft, he knelt down one knee with his hands on his thigh, ready to give them a boost, "Alright! Beng, you first! Get ready for Liu!"

There was no time to argue about the order and he didn't hesitate to leap forward and let Ba propel him upwards. The anchor for the monkey ladder, he held firm as he felt Liu grab his ankles, Ma's weight quickly following.

"C'mon, Ba! Move!"

As soon as he felt Ba's weight added to the chain, he did his best to move upwards as quickly as he could manage and he could feel the others do the same. He felt a gust of wind as the beast dove past the shaft but he didn't let that slow him down.

And sure enough it was the right call as moments later a snarling snout forced its way into the bottom of the shaft.

During the climb all of the extra weight had left him as each of his kin started to climb the ladder themselves and it was only once the creature stopped trying to shove itself into the tiny passage that they stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

No-one said anything as they waited to see if the beast had another trick up its sleeve but once all seemed clear, Liu asked, "Is everyone alright?"

He nodded tiredly, "I'm fine."

Ma responded, "Little banged up but nothing worse than some bruises."

When Ba's answer was not immediately offered next, Liu pressed him, "Ba."

"Fine. I'm fine. Just hurt my wrist. Probably just sprained it."

Despite the futility of it, he tried to get a better look at Ba but it was hard to do when Liu was climbing over Ma in order to examine him, "I knew you were avoiding putting weight on your right arm! Here, let me see it."

He heard Ba protest, "It can wait until we're out of here. We've got a bigger problem on our hands."

A small scuffle seemed to break out on top of Ma's back but that didn't stop Beng glaring down at her, "Like what you did to anger such a behemoth? How did you even get down here?"

Ma glared right back at him, "Don't start. It was pure chance that it found us before it found you." Liu's tail smacked her in the face, and it was clear her patience was at its end when she snapped, "Liu! Enough! Get off my back! Deal with it topside!"

"If he would just let me look at it-! I don't want him climbing and making it worse!"

Beng interjected, "I will carry him then. Let him climb up here and he can hold on to my back."

She argued, "No, I'll carry him. You have the torch and your bag and this way I can-"

Ma cut it, "I'll carry him if he needs it but for the love of the Spirits can we please just start climbing. We might have an actual fucking war on our hands to worry about!"

That certainly got their attention.

Stunned, all he could offer was, "What?"

"I'll explain when we're up. Now come on!"

Liu returned to her place on the ladder, "It's a long climb, you can explain on the way."

[someverygaymoth]

social anxiety NM anon here. what the HELL do you mean if i had a nickel for every time someone i’ve barely spoken to immediately assumed i had a diagnosis, i’d have two nickels. which isnt a lot but

i’ve had a tiny mental crisis about “am i autistic or is it just the adhd” like twice in the past year and i think you just sparked 3, should i reopen the document that i definitely don’t have???????? uh. idk maybe its the adhd (actually diagnosed) but like. um idk anyways NIGHTMARE W/ SOCIAL ANXIETY, LOVE IT, AM I RIGHT (you’re not a therapist so i’m just gonna. stop talking about me. but like. im gonna re-open that document actually. 3rd times the charm or whatever??? mnbhiuvoijohubjhfuijhnfh)

Funny enough, I am starting a psych degree next year to go into the field of psychotherapy. (Still not a therapist yet, but it's funny) My whole family is full of dorks with ADHD innatentive type and autism. An occasional OCD or schizophrenia in there too, so I've got a little experience.

If you don't feel your diagnosis is right, contest it. Especially if you're AFAB. Women and AFAB folks go undiagnosed and misdiagnosed at a disproportionate rate to men and AMAB folks.

But neurodivergent social anxiety is very common in both ADHD (innatentive or otherwise) and autism.

But in AFAB folks, autism tends to present with an extreme social awareness that leads to misdiagnosis. Now, not all autistic women exhibit that social overawareness, but It's definitely a pretty common trait. I suspect it has a lot to do with nurture over nature. It's similar to the idea of under-empathetic autistic presentation vs. overly-empathetic autistic presentation. Under-empathetic would be an autistic person who struggles to identify their emotions and feel them at length as well as struggling to have sympathy for others, whereas overly-empathetic autistic people struggle to tone down and manage their emotions to the point that they feel greatly overwhelming the majority of the time and have very big places in their hearts for others' struggles and problems.

So, similar to that, there's also autistic people who are underaware of social cues, and those who are overaware of social cues. Of course, even those who are aware of social cues because of these adverse experiences in childhood have areas of socialization that they are just exceedingly bad at interpreting. (Ex someone might be very good at reading facial expressions and body language but suck at controlling their own tone and understanding figures of speech.)

Anyway, hi, good morning anon, can you tell what my special intrest is? (Trauma affecting the presentation of other mental disorders my beloved.)

[sonic-oc-showdown]

ROUND 3

Squabble belongs to @sonic-adventure-3

Zenyx belongs to @grimsdeadb0nes

Find out more about them below!

Squabble the Pigeon:

incredibly cheerful untrained pilot and mechanic for a trio of freelance postal workers/hitman. LOVES airplanes and explosives and tinkering and package delivery, is a chronic pipe bomb maker, and has a boundless joie de vivre. she operates on cartoon physics, and has a messenger bag that functions as a hammerspace where she keeps her exposives, revolver, second identical revolver that pops a flag, bazooka, and everything else including the kitchen sink. incredibly cheerful and completely lacking in common sense or a coherent moral compass. about twelve, and on the short side.

Zenyx:

Zenyx is a(n Offcolor) Zeti hailing from the Lost Hex, hidden from the eyes of all but a small handful for her own safety.

Described as exceedingly versatile and a fairly composed wild-card, she acts as The Deadly Six's secret Seventh member! The full extent of her outwardly behaviors is dependant on who she may be around or the situation at hand. She can be quite sweet and very caring to those she likes or is loyal to (which is a very limited list), but can otherwise be just as malicious as the rest of her Pack tend to be towards outsiders. However, unlike the other six, she won't always go out of her way to cause harm or misery UNLESS given proper reason to or provoked. She can be alittle hissy at times, but she's not inherently hot-headed like some; she just doesnt like her buttons being pushed or being lied to- or worse yet, her Pack being messed with.

Zenyx is extremely loyal to the Six and may be described as "caring alittle too much", as she enjoys keeping an eye on/spending time with each and every one if possible and making sure they're okay. She's very keen on stealth and being observant, a quick thinker that thinks ahead, and maybe a slight bit of a people pleaser towards certain individuals- but she isn't afraid to give her two cents either and often lacks a filter at times, offering a touch of sass and attitude. She can be very performative (to an extent) and likes trying to make things fun, being ultimately much more (surprisingly) pleasant than the rest of the Six.

In my Lost World Rewrite (currently still being worked on as of this Poll, yet to be properly revealed!), she is the main inclusion-difference and is by all means another rough obstacle for Sonic and Tails to get through. She managed to remain hidden while the rest of the Six were "conquered" by Eggman for a time, staying out of sight and scheming or helping behind the scenes- as well as working on a way to aid in their freedom before Sonic inevitably kicked the Cacophonic Conch from Eggman's grasp, speeding up that plan tenfold. Eggman was none the wiser to her existence until much later in the story, even going as far as aggressively denying the existence of a seventh in the stretch of area he had taken over when asked about it by Tails, because "If there was, I would have conquered them too!" or something.

She appears in much further stuff planned but thats all hush hush rn ;3!