#approaching it from a rendering perspective

[stcharls-st]

Foxian tale moments

[harrysonlylover]

Red Line*

Summary: Agent Harry doesn’t hold back when he sees his girl flirting with another agent.

Trope: Agent! Harry

Warnings: Mean & dom Harry, oral, hair pulling, choking.

WC: 4k

Previous oneshot

A/n: The timeline of this oneshot is before At All Costs.

Harry has been acting weird lately.

Y/n wants to believe that it’s a coincidence, or that he’s just delighting in his position as a superior, but she knows deep down that there’s more to it.

His attitude towards her keeps changing, he’s either completely stern or completely soft. The latter is more confusing for her given his persona. It’s even more concerning when it’s shown in front of other agents.

The only logical reasoning would be the physical relationship that they have. They hook up when he approaches her (which has been increasing lately). But getting on his nerves is her favorite activity, so sometimes she barges into his office or room and initiates the first move. Of course, she does that because he specifies that sex will happen only when he says so. Though his plan doesn’t seem to work as he obliges to her wishes every single time and fucks her into the next training.

It started almost six months ago when he had it with her during an important training. She talked back at him in front of relevant agents from a different country. He commanded her to leave and wait in his office where he was going to issue a punishment for her. That went completely sideways when the verbal discipline he wanted to perform turned into degradation as they screwed each other’s brains.

They never actually agreed to a certain timing, Harry would simply show up and knock the air out of her lungs with a hungry kiss. He’s someone who likes order in both his personal and professional life, Y/n disobedience rendered him attractive to him in an odd way.

The nice outcome was the raw and dirty sex they had. The only orders she obeyed were the ones he gave her behind closed doors.

It isn’t exactly an ideal position because intimate relationships are not to be found in the workplace; especially in this dangerous field. That wasn’t supposed to be an issue since it was common knowledge that they hated each other’s guts.

But did they?

Harry’s weird behavior did not go unnoticed by Y/n, maybe it’s just their chemistry increasing but at this point, she can’t figure out anything. Lying to herself won’t benefit her; she likes him and she really shouldn’t but it’s already too late.

He isn’t a casual kisser but that changed recently. He attaches his mouth to hers the entire time as if they got glued somehow.

He developed the habit of resting his lips against her forehead during missionary, leaving a subtle kiss that she didn’t even catch up on until a while after.

Despite the sexual energy they shared, the stolen glances and lingering touches, by far his lips subtly brushing against her face was the closest form of obedience he had ever experienced.

Their bodies worked together in sync. A kiss here, a kiss there. Warmth here and warmth there.

They despised each other outside of the bedroom, Harry can’t handle someone who questions his authority and Y/n is exactly that.

She messes with his perspective about everything he has been taught, his morals, his personality, and his methods of training. Whenever they’re found in the same room together, know that some snarky comments will be thrown.

He hadn’t seen her in two days. It’s normal to go a while without seeing a colleague or an agent as everyone’s missions can vary. He lived his life normally without seeing lifelong friends for months, unaware of their safety and whereabouts. But the moment the clock turns 8 in the morning, he’s up on his feet strolling to Agent Marks’ office. All agents that he bumps into either move out of his way after greeting him or quickly hide inside a room.

And that is Harry Styles.

“Marks where is Miss Y/n?” Harry practically barged into the office making the agent in front of him jump on his feet in a matter of seconds.

“Morning S-ir” He stuttered in shock at the sudden entrance before processing what Harry asked him and turning his attention to the computer where he typed Y/n’s name as Harry gave him a cold stare.

“It looks like she’s scheduled to return today.” He answers Harry whose face shows a hint of relief upon hearing the information.

He walked out of the office without any other word and headed straight to the spacious gym where other agents were training as well. This time no one halted their movements or walked away, only because everyone wanted to admire his stamina while working out.

All agents were well trained and monitored, just because Harry radiated authority does not mean others were lower than him. He’s a well-respected man.

The attention in the room turned to him as he covered his hands in boxing gloves and began punching the bag in front of him.

Watching him exercise was similar to indulging in a movie about a ruthless athlete. He punched it nonstop as sweat dripped down his forehead until it ultimately covered his pump chest.

His stamina was otherworldly. He didn’t reach this position for nothing. While everyone admired him and secretly wished they could mimic his moves, Harry’s mind was somewhere else.

He couldn’t stop thinking about a certain girl and her safety. He’s not sure which is irritating him more; the fact that he’s unaware of her situation or why he’s so concerned with her.

His punches were coordinated yet extremely intense. His biceps flexed with every move and his abs contracted under the dim light of the gym.

He released every emotion that he couldn’t decipher into that punching bag. He didn’t realize how far he went until his friend Zayn stood in front of him and caught the punching bag in his arms.

“Mate it’s gonna fall off the hook.” He warned him, catching his eyes in a concerned stare.

Harry looked around him only to be met with the sight of an empty gym and a clock that was striking at 1 in the afternoon.

He’s been here for three hours?

He walked slowly to the nearest wall where he rested his back before sitting on the ground.

He lost track of time as his mind was conquered by Y/n. He shouldn’t be thinking about her or anything that’s related to her. And definitely not about the mole on her left hip and the softness of her—

“Are you okay?” Zayn rescued him from his merciless brain. Harry’s chest heaved as he closed his eyes to gain a moment of calmness that he rarely ever enjoys.

The bruises on his knuckles that were healing are now visible again and he can’t help but remember how Y/n expressed worry over them.

Does she care about him?

Is she thinking about him?

“I’m fine.” He replied to Zayn to avoid further questioning. He’s aware that his friend can get worried sometimes but Harry is a closed book. There is no need to confide anyone in.

He walked away after catching his breath, leaving Zayn standing in the middle of the room with unanswered questions.

A cold shower will always soothe Harry right after exercising, but especially when he’s losing control of his thoughts.

As the icy water engulfed his skin in a pleasurable sting, he rubbed his face and eyes to avoid the sinful images that were flooding his mind.

Although he shouldn’t, he realized that he never fucked Y/n in the shower. It didn’t take long for him to harden at the mere thought of their skin together under the water.

He can even imagine the way she’d rest her head against his body, bite his skin, and let out lustful moans that haunt his daydreams.

He is fucked.

“Fuck’s sake.” He tilts his head backward, allowing the cold water to drip down his toned body reaching his erect cock, earning a hiss from him.

He could fuck anyone right now just to get it out of his system. In fact, he could do that at any given time and yet he always holds back.

The gravitational pull Y/n has on him is insane. He wants her body attached to his at all times.

He showered quickly after muttering under his breath about self-discipline and wrapped a towel around his waist.

His mind was so occupied with Y/n that he forgot all about bringing in clothes with him. He’ll have to step out with only the towel covering his body, but that wasn’t much of an issue as he assumed that the center would be somewhat empty at this hour.

He strolled down the hallway with the towel as a layer for his lower body. The shower helped his nerves to calm down after all the torturous thinking.

He was headed towards his office that he stays in on most nights before hearing muffled voices coming from the gym.

Normally, he wouldn’t give two fucks. He can’t keep up with every single agent and he only interferes if he observes something against the rules.

But the soft voice followed by giggles that his ear can detect from miles away—that is his business.

He dismisses the fact that he’s half-naked as he directs his attention to the gym area where he sees Y/n, still in her field clothes standing next to an agent who is clearly thirsting for her.

“I’m glad that you’re back.” The agent practically had his body glued to Y/n.

“Hmm yeah?” Y/n used her flirtatious tone; the same one that had Harry weak in the knees. He clenched his fists, trying to hold back from using the training he had today to deform the guy’s face. All the stress that the shower took away came back and bubbled through his bloodstream.

“Of course. I missed you and I was wondering if you would like—“ Harry interrupted by pushing the door open with a force, catching them off guard.

“Hello Sir—“

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” His anger was visible and he looked like he was about to get reckless.

“Training sir—“

“Training your flirting methods?! They sure as hell suck.” Harry dripped poison with every word and his body language indicated how furious he was.

Y/n stood unbothered. She was amused even. Harry could easily tell that which pissed him off even more. Her eyes scanned his body the same way she eyes a candy.

The guy was swallowing down his throat, inattentive to the shared glances between Harry and Y/n. All he cared about in the moment was not upsetting his boss, and trying not to appear as a total idiot in front of Y/n.

“Get the fuck away from my face right this instant. Your actions will have a consequence.” Harry’s voice was threatening and devilish as if he enjoyed being this rough with agents. In fact, he lived for the thrill of it.

The agent scurried out of the room as fast as he could to avoid eye contact with Harry who was staring at him with a clenched jaw and bulging eyes.

If he wasn’t angry already, Y/n surely knew how to press his buttons. She casually headed towards the door with an amused grin planted on her face.

“Not so fast Y/n.” He grabbed her arm before she got to pass by him. She rolled her eyes instantly and looked away.

“Who the hell are you rolling your eyes at?” He grabbed her jaw with his hand, forcing her to look up at him.

“Is there anyone else in the room?” She replied in a sassy tone, as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

His nostrils were flaring and she could almost hear his teeth grinding together. The look he gave her warned her that she was in for it. But obviously, she pressed further.

He glanced subtly behind him to make sure that the hallway was empty before tightening his grip on her arm and dragging her behind him.

“Where are you—“

“I don’t want to hear you talking.” She had really messed up.

When she returned from her mission, she craved nothing more than his body against her. It tormented her on the field, but she was instead met with an agent who was pining after her when she was not even interested.

She flirted back because she saw Harry’s silhouette while the guy was too busy staring at her.

Teasing Harry was her favorite activity. They were not official nor expressed romantic gestures but Y/n was curious to see Harry’s reaction upon seeing her with other men, and that guy was the perfect opportunity for her.

She didn’t have a particular response in mind, maybe just Harry being nonchalant but she certainly did not see this coming.

He guided her to his office where he shut the door behind him with a thud. He released her arm and stood in front of her as he looked down at her with furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw.

“What the fuck was that Y/n?” His tone fluctuated between high and low as he cornered her, making her lean against the door while his arms caged her on both sides.

“I don’t know. What was it?” She pretended to be clueless, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth; a move that he adores.

“So now you know nothing about being a slut?” He spat with anger, attempting to avoid the way she was tugging at her lip.

Their bodies were dangerously close, he wanted to bury his face in her neck and give her love bites that she’d have to hide but feel their sting whenever pressed on. Y/n craved sinking herself on his cock and caressing his face as he let out the most beautiful sighs. But Harry’s head was spinning with jealousy and Y/n opened Pandora’s box.

“Are you jealous Harry?” She cooed, placing her hand on his toned chest which was still moist from the shower. His pine shower gel was everywhere.

“It’s sir for you.” He moved her hand away from his body and wrapped it around her throat.

He didn’t want to admit it verbally, but he was about to burn the entire room when he saw her breathing next to a man who wasn’t him. These feelings of possessiveness keep increasing and he can’t fight his urges no matter how disciplined he is.

“I left for two days and you got all cranky.”

“Then you came back and started acting like a whore.” His grip on her throat tightened as he inched his face closer to her.

“We were just chatting.” She rolled her eyes again.

“First of all, you can only roll your eyes when my cock is stretching your pussy…” His face was practically glued to hers as his deep voice sent shivers through her body. His cologne made a complete mess out of her.

“… Second of all, he wants to fuck you and that’s my duty only. Do you understand?” His tone was a mix of possessiveness and softness.

“Yes.” Her brain barely processed left his mouth.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir.”

With Harry towering over her, she took a quick moment to ogle his body. There’s a reason she likes it when he chokes her; other than the tingly feeling she gets when his hand covers her throat—his veins drench her panties.

They extend along his forearm down to his hand that she stares at during training. The more he tightens his grip—the more his biceps flex. His pumped chest and chiseled abs are a bit moist from the shower, and incredibly smooth because he applies a lotion. The towel is low on his waist giving a scandalous display of his toned V line, and an appearance of the ferns tattoo.

The water covering his curls dripped down to her chest then sternum; drop after the other before he lowered his face to catch them with his tongue. It felt warm against her skin—seeing him fresh out of the shower had her lusting for him to fuck her under the water.

His tongue moved against her skin, catching the fallen droplets before reaching her neck where he sucked harshly on her skin.

He pulled away abruptly offering her his devilish grin.

“Kneel.”

He switched back to his authoritative tone, he knows how much she loves being treated like a slut. She acted like one anyway.

“Yes sir.” She gradually went down on her knees, with her hands trailing his body just so she could take the towel off.

His cock stood against his stomach, beads of precum glistening on his tip.

“Don��t think for one second that this is a reward. Your mouth is nothing but a fuck toy.” He grabbed her ponytail in one hand and inserted his finger in her mouth with the other.

She sucked on his thumb, looking up at him with ‘fuck me eyes’ as she shamelessly continued to ogle his muscles. Her view was perfect. His V line and the trimmed hair had her pussy clenching around nothing.

She stuck her tongue out at him daring him to not hold back. She pushes his buttons every time so she can earn what she wants: rough sex and soft aftercare.

“Such an eager slut. Drooling for cock.” He slapped his cock on her face making her try to suck on it.

“Only your cock sir.” She knew that this would get him all worked up.

“Damn right. Only mine Y/n.” He grunted, guiding his cock to her rosy lips. She licked the precum off his sensitive tip earning a hiss from him.

Her tongue worked its way along his shaft with one of her hands cupping his balls. She maintained eye contact with him for the thrill.

Her mouth released scandalous moans to show him that she likes this. Her hand stroked his shaft while her tongue fixated on his tip.

“Sluts don’t get to enjoy pleasure.” He pulled his cock out of her mouth with a pop making her whine.

He spat on his cock before bringing it to her lips again and thrusting it all in one go. She gagged immediately and tried her best to bob her head against it. He slapped her hand away when she tried to touch his length and began thrusting his hips into her mouth.

“Can you hear that? The sound of your pathetic gagging? Way better than your sassy talk.” His voice shook at the end when his cock reached the back of her throat.

He had to balance between tilting his head backward from pleasure and looking down to see her beautiful ruined face.

Her cheeks hollowed around his shaft as he used her mouth. Her gagging had him weak in the knees, not to mention the tears streaming down her face along with her messy hair strands.

“That’s it, little minx. Make your throat ache.” He stroked her head before pushing it against his shaft, holding it for a few seconds, and pulling out.

She coughed heavily; trying to catch her breath as precum and saliva dripped down from her mouth to her chest.

“Aw, would you look at that?” He swiped his fingers along her mouth, catching their mixed juices together just so he could lick it.

“Whose cum is that hm? Whose cock are you choking on?” He asked with a raspy voice that had her squirming.

“You sir.”

“Hmm like music to my ears.” He took in her puppy eyes and ruined face for a minute or two, before thrusting his cock back in her mouth.

Her tongue felt so fucking warm that he had to restrain himself from cumming. He didn’t lie when he said that her mouth was his fuck toy. His hips rolled forward as he pushed her head on his length back and forth, letting out audible moans.

“This is the only cock you can suck Y/n.” He gritted through his teeth as he fucked her mouth mercilessly.

“When you wake up in the morning with a sore throat, you better keep that in mind.” Her whines were loud through the gagging and choking. Of course, her squirming never fails to make him smirk. She’s sassy until he makes her needy; that’s when sub-Y/n comes out to play.

“Oh poor baby, does your pussy need a cock to fill it?” He slowed down to watch more saliva leak from the corners of her mouth and to hear her beg for a release.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He sped up again—on purpose. She dug her nails into his thighs and pushed her head against his cock till her nose bumped his pelvis.

This exact moment altered his brain chemistry—she silently choked on his cock, a tear streaming down her cheek as she whimpered eagerly with puppy eyes.

She lived for this—she wanted him to use her.

He refrained from guiding her anymore as she took the initiative by herself and fucked her mouth.

“So dumb for my cock aren’t you?” He rolled his eyes in ecstasy when she swiped her tongue against his swollen tip.

His length had grown since she first began sucking it due to swelling—but that didn’t stop her from taking it all inside his mouth.

He felt his cock beginning to twitch which she seemed to enjoy. Of course, she’d want his load.

“Time to use your mouth as my cum dump, isn’t that right little minx?”

Her muffled moan and gagging sent him over the edge.

He didn’t hold back and released his load inside her mouth. His moans and curses filled the room as he kept letting out one rope after the other of his warm cum.

Y/n’s mouth overflowed as she eagerly swallowed it while some leaked out of the corner of her mouth.

“Take my cum, little minx.” He panted heavily—prompting his muscles to contract as his hand caressed Y/n’s cheek.

She took his cum every single time without hesitation, the same way he devours her cunt for breakfast.

He pulled out with a hiss—he was still leaking but he didn’t want to pressure her even though he knew she’d want it.

She was trying to lick every drop from the corners of her mouth. Her view was even better now—he looked heavenly with his body just standing there as his cock leaked on her face.

He kneeled to her level and lifted her body off the ground with one arm, before placing her on his desk. He was still experiencing the high of the orgasm—but he wanted to make sure she was okay.

She did not use her safe word and he wonders if she ever will—she likes it way too rough.

He wiped her face with tissues, pressing his lips against her temple like he always does. She rested her head against his shoulder as he stroked her head.

They never discussed his gentleness in the aftercare. It was the bare minimum of course but sometimes he liked to pretend that it was more than that.

It was an excuse to give her love. To tip the universe off its balance.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“This is the last time I wish to see you flirting with another man.” His tone remained neutral, but it was an order. A strict one.

“Don’t want to anyway.” She buried her face in his chest.

Her response caught him off guard. He can’t push away his possessive thoughts for long—but he can’t confess either.

He pulled away momentarily to fetch her a water bottle from his mini fridge. He helped her have some sips before wiping her mouth and kissing it—again.

Her mouth was addictive and damn it was he an addict.

He sticks to a lot of rules in his life—yet her lips feel so forbidden, inviting him into a world free of order.

She was his kryptonite.

His red line that no one would survive crossing.

Kindly reblog if you liked it!!

Taglist: @babegoals @hotnhardrrry @mattiehattuck1

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Cold-hearted Wolf

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Martell princess reader.

Tags: Angst, fluff, arranged marriage, eventual smut, cregan is repressed and mean at first, then falls for the reader.

All fiction, the reader is a made up character. Im a long-time reader, but first-time writer.

Chapter 2 - war council, sexy sparring, and a confrontation.

Cregan Stark stood at the head of a large wooden table, surrounded by advisors and generals. His dog sat obediently beside his chair. The table was spread with maps, denoting positions, and pathways. Cregan's fingers traced a potential route, his eyes focused.

"This pass," he began, pointing to a narrow way in the mountains, "Will be our best chance. It's least expected. We'll split our forces..."

Before he could continue, the door creaked open, and you walked in, your curious gaze taking in the scene. You curtseyed before the council, approaching the table with measured steps. Cregan's pet waddled over and nuzzled against your dress, letting you scratch behind his ear.

Cregan's brow furrowed. "My lady," he began, his tone polite but firm, "This is a war council meeting. It's not a place for a princess."

There was a murmur of agreement from some of the men and women, while others looked away, not meeting your gaze.

You swallowed the insult, whether he intended it or not, hoping your confidence didn’t waver as you offered in turn. "In Sunspear, my father’s council valued the insights of all, regardless of sex or stature. I've studied battles since I was little, my lord, and strategies. My input might offer a fresh perspective."

Cregan hesitated, raising a brow in trying to assess when their or not this information about Dornish customs was true.

"Your highness." One of the generals, an older man with grizzled hair, grunted, "There is no harm in hearing the lady Stark, my lord. The Dornish have a way with unconventional tactics."

You held your tongue from telling the general the tactics only seemed unconventional to him, but in the south, they were quite practiced. You were grateful enough that he spoke in your defense.

After a long pause, Cregan finally nodded. "Very well. Speak your mind, my lady."

You smiled at your husband and approached the maps. With a glint in your eye, you began outlining your thoughts, suggesting alternatives and considering Dornish strategies that the North had made full use of. The room slowly grew quiet, listening cautiously to your thoughts. As you spoke, you glanced around the room to get a take of the atmosphere. Some members of the council sat with skeptical looks, questioning your suggestions, others with furrowed brows of concern.

You spotted your husband, whose eyes followed the map where you were pointing out battle formations. You didn’t expect his eyes to snap up to meet yours, the cloudy storm in them rendering you speechless for a moment.

You stuttered in the midst of your sentence, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You cursed yourself inwardly when you saw the corner of his mouth perk up. He was laughing at you. No matter how you have brought the room to silence, Cregan still didn’t take you seriously. The embarrassment and humiliation made you all the more self conscious as you thanked the gods that one of the generals, the same one who had stood up for you, took in one of your suggestions and began to talk it over with the council.

“If I may, my lord.” He began to talk to Cregan, whose eyes and condescending smirk were still on you. “The merging of Dornish and Northern tactics might just be the edge we needed.”

Cregan finally tore his watchful eyes away from you, and you took in a deep breath. “Tradition had its place for a reason, don’t you agree, Ser Robert?”

The general nodded, albeit giving the lord a knowing look. “Sometimes, the winds of change bring unexpected allies and advantages.”

Cregans gaze switched back to you. “Aye, sometimes.” His expression unreadable once more.

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

The courtyard buzzed with activity, men-at-arms training for the looming battle. At the center, Cregan Stark and his kingsguard, Ser Jon, clad in their sparring breaches and boots, moved with a fluid grace, each thrust and parry a testament to their combat training. Steel against steel echoed off the ancient stone walls.

Watching from the sides, your eyes traveled appreciatively over Cregan's physique, particularly the way you could see every tensed muscle of his arms, chest, and abdomen as he carried out perfected movements. Beneath your admiration, however, was a desire to humble him after his dismissal of you in the war council. To make him turn red for once.

Walking forward to the table decorated with weaponry, you picked up your favored curved Dornish blade, sharp and deadly, a gift for Cregan from your court.

You slowly approached the sparring duo. "Care for a challenge, my lord?" You were happy your voice didn’t waver.

The knight and lord Stark paused their fight, lowering their weapons, the courtyard going silent. Cregan tilted his head to meet your gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're not dressed for it, my lady. That gown looks too precious to risk-"

Without a word, you grabbed the hem of your gown and tore it, fashioning a makeshift skirt that allowed for movement. You barely felt the cold air as the adrenaline rushing through your veins brought a familiar heat. The gathered crowd murmured around you.

Cregan caught himself staring at you but recovered quickly, chuckling. "Spoiled princess, tearing such fine fabric.”

You exhaled sharply at the comment, feeling again as if you were a misbehaving child being disciplined. You were going to enjoy this. “My lord,” You put up your blade and held your stance.

“Alright,” Cregan held up his sword and got in position. “If you are so eager to prove a point."

You advanced, your blade zooming in the air. The courtyard crowd drew back. The initial clash was swift, Cregan clearly taken aback by surprise. You ducked under his strikes, retaliating with speed. A well-timed move saw Cregan on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He only stayed that way for a moment, though, quickly getting back up.

"I am every bit the warrior you are," you insisted with conviction as the two of you circled one another.

Cregan recovered quickly. With newfound respect, he launched a fierce counterattack, which you blocked.

Of course, Lord Stark knew nothing of the discipline Sunspear princesses have received, including battle strategy and combat. You were glad you at least got to see the surprise in his features when you dodged his attacks masterfully. Your old teacher back home would be proud.

Blades blurred in the air as you fought. But Cregan's strength and experience began to tell. With a deft move, he had you pinned against the hey covered ground, his hand reaching around your back to put a buffer between you and the ground.

He inched towards you until you were a breath apart, making you breath hitch. "Being a good sparring partner doesn't make you a good warrior, princess," he breathed.

Your cheeks burned, but you were determined to get away victorious. With a sudden twist, you broke free, using your legs to flip him onto the ground as you rolled on top of him. Cregan found himself on his back, your curved blade cool against his throat. He looked up, not just into the eyes of a skilled fighter, but a woman who had quite literally kicked his ass, even if it was by fighting dirty.

You looked down at him, but something made you pause. His wolfish grin was back. His eyes wandered slightly, noting the way your dress had ridden up, scandalously, you realized, revealing your legs. You tried to ignore the feeling that look of his stirred within the pit of your stomach.

"Don't underestimate your opponent," you breathed, fighting a smile. You missed the rush of fighting. Feeling brazen, you leaned in closer until you were sure only he could hear. "You rely too heavily on might. Long-range combat is key to reducing casualties. Thank you for granting me the honor of sparring with you."

With that, you rose gracefully, leaving a dazed Cregan on the floor.

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

The flicker of candlelight lit up your bedchamber in a warm glow. On the table, maps were sprawled out in detail. Concentration etched your features as you calculated troop movements, supply routes, and attacks.

The door creaked open, revealing Cregan Stark, his eyes heavy and ready for sleep after his wash, his hair tied messily behind his ears and falling lazily over his forehead. “I must accompany Ser Robert tomorrow to the front.” He said.

"Look," You pointed to your notes. "This regiment, right here."

He glanced over, brows furrowed. "That's too many men," he said, his tone sharp. "I won't needlessly risk Northern lives."

You met his gaze evenly. "Victory requires the right numbers. And this is the number we need."

"The numbers ‘we’ need," he shot back, echoing your words. "These are people you are sending to their deaths. Offering up thousands of Northern lives like its nothing."

"No!” You stood your ground, chin raised defiantly, though your lower lip began to tremble. "It's almost as though you have forgotten that I am your wife, Cregan Starl! These people, your people, are mine now, too. I value them as much as you do!"

His grey eyes stormed at your words, clearly not expecting you to be so blunt with him.

You stepped closer,your voice finding its confidence. "From the moment I've arrived here. You… you've treated me with nothing but disdain! Dismissing my opinions, underestimating me, and ridiculing me in front of your men. The only respect you showed was when we sparred. Is that the only language you understand?"

His icy facade wavered, guilt flickering in his eyes. "y/n," he began.

But you weren't having any of it. “Please, just listen!"

While you still had his attention, you launched into your strategy, outlining troop movements and battle formations and emphasising the importance of long-range weapons.

“The longbow may work in the windless desserts,” he interrupted. “But the climate here is different.”

“We make use of trebuchets then.” You insisted.

He blinked at that. “Perhaps,”

As the two of you spoke, exchanging ideas back and forth, the plan became clear. Cregan, for the first time, truly listened, no belittling smirks, or jibes.

“With this plan, more lives could be spared. Our men can come home.” You finished, with nothing more to add.

You looked at him for either approval or dissatisfaction. Anything to give you a sign of what he thought. But his face was unreadable as he leaned on the desk, studying your combined notes. His mouth remained in a hard line, but his eyes, plagued by grey storms, were on you.

“Cregan?” You asked, urging him to share his thoughts.

Cregan took a step towards you, closing the distance between you two, his hand lifting your chin up and capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.

You gasped, your limbs temporarily going numb with sudden warmth as his soft lips moved roughly against yours. This man didn’t kiss gently. He was roughened up by his environment and did not hold back. Just as he handn’t on his wedding night. Only now, it was different. Now, he seemed like he actually wanted to be kissing you.

Your hands grasped at his wide shoulder to balance yourself. “Cregan…”

Your initial surprise melted after a moment, giving way to desire, and you responded with equal interest, kissing him back. His hands found your hips and pulled you sharply against himself, tightening around you. You felt hard muscle. The man was all rough edges and cold demeanors, but right now, he was warm. This was the passion you'd yearned for, the connection you'd dreamt of.

Outside of the boarded window, you overheard the sounds of the night, the whistling win, the sound of owls hooting, and echoes of a wolf howling from a distance. Suddenly, Cregan pulled away abruptly, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

“Y/N,” he began, breathing unevenly. “I cannot…”

“What?” Your voice broke, dreading the rejection you knew was coming.

“You regret our union, dont you.” You said finally, tired of waiting for his response.

He looked up at you with furrowed brows. “That is not what I-

You shook your head, eyes on the floor as you tried to calm your racing breaths. “Its alright.” You reassured him, hoping it would make it easier to be truthful with you. “You hate that I'm not a Northerner. That I'm not your equal.”

You watched as his handsome features hardened into anger. As if you had just said something extremely stupid.

He took two steps and backed you against the wall. Gasping, you blinked up to meet stormy grey eyes staring down at you.

"My land is in crisis," he finally said, his voice raw. "I can't afford to be distracted by such… dramatics. If you wished for constant passion and fire in your marriage, I'm afraid you ran out of luck with me, princess."

Before he could say more, and having heard enough, you gathered the maps on the table and shoved them into his hands before storming out of your bedroom door, leaving him alone in the candlelit room, your ego bruised and your emotions in turmoil.

[katzenklavierr]

I am once again reminding people that Vocaloid and other singing synthesizers are not the same as those AI voice models made from celebrities and cartoon characters and the like.

Singing synthesizers are virtual instruments. Vocaloids use audio samples of real human voices the way some other virtual instruments will sample real guitars and pianos and the like, but they still need to be "played", per say, and getting good results requires a lot of manual manipulation of these samples within a synthesis engine.

Crucially, though, the main distinction here is consent. Commercial singing synthesizers are made by contracting vocalists to use their voices to create these sample libraries. They agree to the process and are compensated for their time and labor.

Some synthesizer engines like Vocaloid and Synthesizer V do have "AI" voice libraries, meaning that part of the rendering process involves using an AI model trained on data from the voice provider singing in order to ideally result in more naturalistic synthesis, but again, this is done with consent, and still requires a lot of manual input on the part of the user. They are still virtual instruments, not voice clones that auto-generate output based on prompts.

In fact, in the DIY singing synth community, making voice libraries out of samples you don't have permission to use is generally frowned upon, and is a violation of most DIY engines' terms of service, such as UTAU.

Please do research before jumping to conclusions about anything that remotely resembles AI generation. Also, please think through your anti-AI stance a little more than "technology bad"; think about who it hurts and when it hurts them so you can approach it from an informed, critical perspective rather than just something to be blindly angry about. You're not helping artists/vocalists/etc. if you aren't focused on combating actual theft and exploitation.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (1)

The Bronze Bitch's Daughter

Prince Daemon Targaryen has grown tired of his Lady wife, the “Bronze Bitch” Rhea Royce. But he is not so easily rid of her. She survives not only his brutal attack, but his cruel violation of her. Though she remains broken and weak, she endures just long enough to deliver a child: a girl of silver hair and steely eyes.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: Heavily implied rape

Author's Note: Here's the first chapter of my rework of The Silver Dragon! I'm keeping the old versions up, but they will be labeled "archived."

*Important Note* While he's not the villain of the show or book, Daemon is the villain of this story. We are seeing him through the perspectives of people he's hurt in various different ways. As such, he is not as morally gray as you may be used to. If you think this will upset you, don't read. Thank you!

Series Masterlist - Next Chapter

Rhea Royce lay prone on the earth ground of her beloved Vale. But she could feel neither the cold of the stone nor the dampness of the grass and stone as it seeped through her hunting leathers and onto her skin. As the heat of her body met with the chill in the ground, the runes of protection etched into her pauldrons became fogged over – rendered unreadable.

She knew she should hurt. The pain should be unbearable. Yorwyck was a mighty beast, like the Bronze King he was named for. The whole weight of the horse had come down upon her, so there was no doubt he caused her great damage in his fall. She had heard the sharp cracking of her own bones. Yet she felt none of it. 

All she could feel was fear.

The cloaked man waited until her steed was out of sight. Rhea was well and truly alone, with only the distant ramparts of Runestone peering from between the hills as witness to whatever would come next. 

He approached her slowly, casually, as if he couldn’t hear her desperate whimpers. She knew he just didn’t care. He ran his violet eyes along her body as he approached her head. It was not a gaze of lust. He looked on her with the same disdainful curiosity as one examining a woodland rodent crushed by a cart. 

As he stood directly over her, he turned his eyes from her face – he had always avoided looking at the face he found so displeasing. Instead, he turned to her outstretched arm. He took another step, raising his foot above Rhea’s lower arm. The ghost of a wicked smile danced in the corner of his mouth, and he stepped down. 

Nothing.

He raised and pressed his foot down again several more times. Not to be sure, but to emphasize to his victim that she was utterly helpless – precisely as he wanted her. Rhea knew the horrors his men had inflicted on the criminals of King’s Landing and the followers of the Crab Feeder. She knew the cruelty he was capable of and of his unparalleled creativity. He had hated her for years. In all that time, he must have imagined countless ways to torture her. 

Rhea braced herself for what would come next. At least she would not feel the pain.

But his steps retreated.

All the fear in Rhea’s heart evaporated, swiftly replaced by rage. After these long nine years, this was all he had for her? For nine years, he traveled the whole of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond, slandering her and her family in the courts, then further insulting her with his brazen whoring. She had lost count of how often he had called her “Bronze Bitch” and accused her of ruining his life. She had been anticipating a reckoning from him. 

But this? 

This was an insult she could not stand.

Rhea knew she would be signing her soul over to the Stranger, but she would not let Daemon Targaryen have the final say.

“I knew you couldn’t finish,” she spat at her retreating husband. 

He turned back, looking at her face for the first time. Rage twisted his face, but his eyes were wide with shock. He had not expected that. But she was, after all, his Bronze Bitch.

What he said next had Rhea’s blood running cold as she thanked all the Seven that she would not feel what was to come. “My dear, lady wife,” he said, breath heaving and voice dripping with hateful venom, “perhaps it is time we consummate our union.”

The Lady of Runestone was dying, nine months on from her “accident.”

The people of the Vale were told that it was a miracle from the Seven themselves that she had survived such a devastating fall from her horse. Even more miraculous still, her husband had swooped in on dragonback to rescue her before she succumbed. He had even used his mount, Caraxes ‘the Blood Wyrm,’ to find and dispatch the offending horse. A true Targaryen prince, rescuing his bronze damsel. It was no wonder when her cousin and heir, Gerold, announced to the court that she was with child. They cared little that their Lady’s rescuer had swept flown out of the Vale as swiftly as he had arrived. 

Only her cousin, her Maester, and her ladies-in-waiting knew the truth. Maester Kerith had spent countless hours binding the broken bones that could be saved, and those he could not, he promptly removed. When Lady Rhea next sat the Bronze Throne, she made sure her ladies dressed her in her riding leathers rather than a gown that would hide her injuries. She wanted her court to see what she had survived, even if they could not know the truth.  

When it became clear that the consequences of what her husband had done extended beyond mere injuries, Maester Kerith offered her moon tea, but she refused. With her health still declining and her body struggling to overcome the trauma she had faced, she knew she would not survive long. But again, she refused to let Daemon have the final word in their hellish marriage. He had insulted her, paralyzed her, and raped her, but she would not let him forget her. 

She would leave him with an Heir of Bronze.

The babe was born as the sun rose, though the day remained dark beneath the clouds that so often surrounded Runestone. 

Rhea wept for the first time, having felt no pain throughout the birth, when she saw that her daughter had the silver-white hair of her father. She had prayed for months that her child would look just like her, to be a constant reminder of his Bronze Bitch. But the babe was just another silver Targaryen. Her final revenge had failed.

Gerold sat at her side, cradling the girl in his arms, as her mother could not. Then, as the babe began to cry, he held her out so Rhea could see her.

“Cousin, look at her eyes,” he whispered, all too aware of the grim looks on the Maester and Septas’ faces. 

Rhea turned her head, lifting her neck as much as her weakening body would allow to try and glimpse her child through her tears. She looked past the white hair at the small but wide eyes that beheld her. 

The slate grey eyes of Runestone, the Bronze Kings, and the First Men. Royce eyes.

Rhea smiled. Perhaps her revenge would not be as sharp as she would like, but so long as her daughter remained, Daemon would never forget her. He would always remember that he could not break her.

The Lady of Runestone’s breaths came slower, and though the Septas flurried around her, she paid them no mind. She had known all these months that she would not live to see the look on Daemon’s face when he first met his heir. She knew these were her last moments. But she did not want to spend them afraid. She wanted to spend them with her daughter.

Fitting, she thought, that Daemon’s heir should be a girl. His young niece had usurped his claim to the Iron Throne, and now his claim to Runestone was usurped by his own daughter. 

And what a beautiful daughter she was. Rhea’s vision began to blur around the edges, and the voices of the others in the room faded as she beheld the babe. Her eyes were bright, even as she cried softly, and the silver-white of her gently curling hair seemed to bring out a metallic shine in her grey eyes. They complimented each other, as her parents never had.

This girl was not bronze.

“Arianwyn,” Rhea whispered, naming her child as the life, at last, left her broken body. Lady of silver.

It was not Prince Daemon who came to Runestone to receive the child on behalf of the Royal family, but the young Queen Alicent Hightower. She came with the unwelcome news that the child’s father had already remarried. Less than a month after he became a widower. He had departed with his new wife, Laena Velaryon, to Pentos without leaving instruction on the care of his daughter – or even acknowledging her birth. 

Alicent, despite her reputation as a fierce supporter of her husband’s family, was more than empathetic to the child’s plight. It seemed to Ser Gerold that the young Queen held a similar opinion to his own regarding Daemon Targaryen. She commiserated with him on the pain the prince had caused his family, especially Rhea and her daughter. It seemed that As long as the prince had vexed the Royce family, he had been equally maddening to his brother.

But what was most shocking to Gerold and the court at Runestone was the offer the Queen brought: to bring the child to King’s Landing and raise her there. Despite her father’s indifference, the child was a Targaryen. It was her right to live amongst her people, to learn the traditions of Old Valyria. 

And at the Red Keep, Arianwyn would not be alone. The Queen had three children, each young enough to be peers to their newest Targaryen cousin, and more were anticipated from both Alicent and the recently wed Princess Rhaenyra. 

The King had already given his approval, both to the fostering of his niece at the Red Keep and of Gerold serving as regent of Runestone until the girl had come of age. Indeed, all the arrangements were already made. The Queen had even brought a small contingent of attendants for the child, from nursemaids to Dragonkeepers, who carried a great, steaming urn containing a silver dragon egg – supposedly chosen by the Queen’s infant son – to be placed in Arianwyn’s cradle.

Gerold had only one caveat before he agreed to the King’s plan: that Arianwyn would not venture to the capital alone. A handful of attendants from Runestone delegates would be sent with her to educate her on the history and traditions of House Royce. So that even surrounded by Targaryens, she would not forget why her eyes were grey.

Queen Alicent, herself clothed in Hightower green, happily agreed. 

After a long journey from the Vale, Lady Arianwyn Targaryen arrived at Red Keep, cradled in the arms of her aunt, Queen Alicent Hightower. As her attendants, including one of her late mother’s most trusted Lady’s Maids, continued on to prepare her rooms, the newest Targaryen was brought into the Great Hall. 

A hush fell over the gathered courtiers when the doors to the throne room opened, and they beheld the silver-haired babe. But the chatter that so often filled the capital quickly resumed when they saw the blanket she was swaddled in. A burnished bronze velvet, carefully embroidered with the same ancient Runes that graced the ancestral armor of House Royce. 

It was a slight on the Royal House that, in another court, would have undoubtedly caused a scandal. But in this court, where the Queen herself so brazenly wore the colors of her own house rather than her husband’s, it was immediately relegated to petty gossip. So the Lords and Ladies quickly resumed their conversations as the Queen approached the Iron Throne.

“My King, may I present your niece, Lady Arianwyn Targaryen,” Alicent said as she bowed before her husband as best she could with a squirming infant in her arms.

King Viserys’ eyes brightened, and he dismissed the Hand from his side. The King, having lost so many of his own children by his first wife, was always cheered when he had the chance to meet a healthy babe.

“Hello, my dear niece,” he cooed, reaching out to hold her, “what a delight you are!” His arms strained slightly at the weight of the plump child, so he pulled her into his chest. She relaxed into his against him, fussing softly as she reached for his long white hair.

Viserys laughed, running his fingers through her own hair. The exact shade of silver-white that graced nearly every member of his family. Though hers held significantly more curls than any Targaryen he had ever known.

“She is indeed a beauty, cousin.” A familiar voice drew the King’s attention. His cousin, Rhaenys, approached the throne. “It is a comfort to see our families flourishing.”

The King smiled and nodded, allowing his cousin permission to approach. She ascended the steps to the Iron Throne and ran the back of her fingers along the round cheek of her new baby cousin. “It is a shame her father is not here to meet her.”

Viserys heart sank. In his joy at meeting Arianwyn, he had momentarily forgotten the circumstances under which she arrived – without her father. Once again, his brother had shamed not only himself, but his family and the Crown itself. At least the child’s hair had put to rest any rumors that Rhea had been unfaithful. 

Suddenly, the sight of the babe made his heart ache. “Alicent,” he called to his wife, “take Arianwyn to her rooms. I am sure she is tired from the journey.” He handed his wife the child and slumped back into the throne, readjusting himself to try and remain comfortable. Then, when Alicent was out of earshot, he again turned to Rhaenys.

“What has my brother done now?” He said, running his gloved hand over his face.

Rhaenys grimaced. “I am loathe to speak against him now, as he has so recently taken my daughter to wife,” she sighed. “But I feel confident in saying that none of us can ever say exactly what your brother is doing, much less predict what he may yet do in the future.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Viserys said, “I just pray that poor girl won’t suffer any more than she already has.”

When she arrived, the Queen’s three children were waiting inside the solar of their cousin’s new rooms. Aegon, now four years old, ran from his nursemaid, cackling as he swerved precariously between the servants attempting to arrange the room. Helaena, approaching her second nameday, stayed in her nurse’s arms, hands clasped tightly around her ears as she took in the unfamiliar space. And Aemond, only a few months older than his new cousin, lay peacefully in his maid’s arms as he watched servants haul numerous sparkling bronze trappings into the rooms.

“Come and meet your new cousin, darlings,” Alicent called to Aegon and the nursemaids bearing her other children, “She’s come a long way to be with us.” The Queen sat on a plush chair near the west windows of the room, gently lowering the babe into her lap.

Aegon reluctantly approached, sneering slightly at the child in his mother’s lap. “She doesn’t look like Daemon.”

Alicent sighed. “Nor did you look like your father when you were so young. Indeed, even now, I wager you look more like me. You have the Hightower nose.” She tweaked the tip of his soft nose – the same as hers - to drive her point home.

“I am a Targaryen prince!” Aegon insisted.

“Of course, my boy. How could any of us forget it with this on your head,” she said, ruffling his unruly mop of white hair.

Aegon grunted, looking back down at the baby. He gently reached out to touch her silver hair, both neater and curlier than his own. “What is her name?”

“Arianwyn.” The Queen responded.

“Ari…” Helaena started, her hands finally coming down from her ears. Alicent nodded for the maid to set her down, and the young girl approached her mother and the babe.

The Queen spoke slowly and carefully as she repeated, “Arianwyn.”

Helaena listened intently, then repeated the name several times, struggling with the pronunciation. “Ah-ree-an-win.”

“That’s it! Very good, my sweet,” the Queen said, placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, though the young girl winced at the touch.

Aegon continued fiddling with his cousin’s curls, “It’s a weird name.”

“Her cousin Sir Gerold Royce told me it is of the Old Tongue,” the Queen said, motioning for one of the nursemaids to bring her youngest babe closer, “it has some meaning, though I am afraid I forget what it is.”

Releasing Arianwyn’s hair, Aegon made a noise of quickly waning interest and stepped away, eager to resume his perpetual torment of his nurse. Had she not been holding her young niece, Alicent may have chased after him. But for now, she lifted the child babe to face her own.

“Aemond,” she said softly, “meet Arianwyn.”

As he beheld his bronze-wrapped cousin, he smiled, cooing and reaching a squirming fist toward her. A smile appearing across her own face, Arianwyn reached back toward him.

I'll be starting a new taglist for this, so if you'd like to be on it, please reach out to me or comment on this post.

[fitz-and-simmons]

If you’ve created a Spidersona, I’d love to hear about your experience and creative process for my Master’s thesis research!

The purpose of this study is to understand how Spidersons are creatively envisioned and artistically rendered and how they can be a framework for identity exploration and expression. This research will inform an academic article as well as a freely-accessible short documentary planned to be released sometime in 2024.

This survey should take no longer than 20 minutes to complete with 10 required questions & 8 optional ones—it includes questions about your artistic approach to creating your own Spidersona, how your Spidersona aligns with or differs from your own identity, and about cultural and community meanings emerge from Spidersonas: https://forms.gle/wZVkJ9H27bnuGUmo8

Please feel free to share this post or to send it to anyone else you know who has created a Spidersona. Your perspective is incredibly important to me, and I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

Lore

[canmom]

Hello! I absolutely love your blog, everything from your festival recounts to animation analysis and programming (one of tumblr's recommended posts was the one where you made your own rasteriser, and I liked your attitude in what I've read so much that I'm gonna attempt to conquer my 3-year-long grudge against using opengl during college and do something similar now that I'm a bit older and have no deadlines :D).

But anyway, I have 2 questions (sorry if there's easily accessible answers, tumblr search is not helping): 1. During your animation nights, does the screen stay black while everyone watches their own video while you provide commentary? I haven't caught any yet but maybe someday! And 2. do you have any youtube channels or just one-off video essays that you like that also cover animation/directors? Or, even programming lol.

Sorry for the long ask have a nice day!

hiii! i'm very touched that you like my dorky eclectic blog <3

For the Animation Nights, I just stream the video over Twitch from local sources on my computer, typically by playing the video in mpv and recording it in OBS. This is obviously not ideal from a video quality perspective, but it's the easiest way to watch video in sync without making everyone download files in advance. Then we all chat in the Twitch chat box (in large part to crack stupid jokes, it's not that highbrow lmao). I've gotten away with it so far!

As for youtube channels, I can recommend...

anime production/history (i.e. sakuga fandom)

SteveM is likely the most sakuga-fan affiliated anituber. He makes long, well-researched and in-depth videos on anime history, usually themed around a particular director or studio.

Pyramid Inu might be my fave anituber - very thoughtful analysis of Gundam, obscure mecha anime and oldschool BL and similar topics. tremendously soothing voice too.

The Canipa Effect does excellent deep dives into the production of specific shows, both western and anime. I appreciate the respect he gives to the Korean animators of shows like AtlA in particular!

Sean Bires's 2013 presentation on sakuga is pretty foundational to this whole subcultural niche, and a great place to get an introduction to the major animator names to know and significant points in the history of anime. unfortunately a couple of the segments got slapped down by copyright but the rest holds up!

animation theory (for animators and aspirants)

I'm going to focus here on resources that are relevant to animation in general, and 2D animation. if I was going to list every Blender channel we'd be here all week :p

New Frame Plus is one of the best channels out there for game animation, describing in tightly edited videos how animation principles work in a game context and analysing the animation of various games. highly recommend

Videogame Animation Study is similar, examining the animation of specific games in detail

the 'twelve principles of animation' (defined by Disney's Ollie Johnston and Frank Thomas) remain the standard approach to animation pedagogy; there are various videos on them, but Alan Becker (of Animator vs Animation) has quite a popular series. I haven't actually watched these but many people swear by them! Dermot O'Connor expands the list to 21. Note that some of the terminology can be a little inconsistent between different animators - c.f. 'secondary motion'...

Dong Chang is an animator at Studio NUT, who produces a lot of fantastic, succinct videos on standard techniques in the anime industry, timesheet notations, etc. etc. Studio Bulldog, a small anime studio, are a good complement; they focus more on douga than genga and are generally a bit more traditional.

programming

big topic here, I'm going to focus on game dev and tech art since that's my field. but also some general compsci stuff that's neat

SimonDev - graphics programmer with a bunch of AAA experience, fantastic explanations of advanced optimisations and some of the more counterintuitive aspects of rendering

Acerola - graphics programmer who makes very detailed guides to a variety of effects with a very rapid and funny 'guy that has seen monogatari' editing style. When he's good, he's really good. His video on water is probably the best one I've seen (though I can recommend a couple of others).

TodePond - the most charming, musical videos about recursion and cellular automata you've ever seen. less programming tutorial and more art in themselves.

Ben Eater - known for his breadboard computer series, a fantastic demonstration of how to go from logic gates up to the 6502 with actual hardware. worth watching just for how clean he puts the wires on his breadboards like goddamn man

Sebastian Lague, Useless Game Dev - both do 'coding adventure' style videos where they spend a few weeks on some project and then document it on Youtube, resulting in a huge library of videos about all sorts of fascinating techniques. great to dive into

Freya Holmér - creator of the 'shapes' library, makes videos on mathematical programming, with gorgeously animated vector graphics. Her video on splines is a particular treat.

There are definitely many more channels I can recommend on these subjects, but I'll need to dig into my history a bit - unfortunately I need to rush out right now, but hopefully that should be good to be getting going with!

[tfinnbarr]

I've been studying your monochrome art, like the Turnip28 piece you posted in October, and some parts look like you outlined them in black and then painted them and others look straight-up painted without lineart. Can you comment on your painting process? I want to learn from your method, but I can't begin to fathom it

Hey, sorry I'm just getting back to you now! I would say I *generally* start with some messy linework for most of my paintings, but I rarely clean it up too much before moving to paint over the top (because that's the part I really love). Especially for scenes with multiple characters, I find the best way to nail down a composition I like is to start painting light and shadow shapes asap, so the linework gets lost or covered up pretty early on.

I tend to keep the lines visible for longer in paintings that need a bit more perspective, and often bits and pieces of those lines will survive into the final render. Partially because I like the visual noise, and often because I didn't bother properly rendering less important areas beyond a basic light pass, haha. I've attached some compositions for various t28 paintings to illustrate what I mean, both with the shape + light heavy approach, and with one where I kept the lines in the painting for a lot longer.

Hope some of this helps! Always happy to answer questions, and maybe one day I'll get off my ass and share some timelapses.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HOW I WOULD’VE WRITTEN YUKIMIYA AND KUNIGAMI

i made a silly post last night about something i would’ve done differently in the neo egoist league and it inspired me to finally make a proper post explaining how i, personally, would’ve written yukimiya and kunigami specifically, given that the both of them are currently suffering from benched-character-syndrome (that’s not a real thing, i just made it up, but i’m sure you all can figure out what it means)

disclaimer before i start: this is MY OPINION and just one way that things could be done differently — i’m not saying that this way is better or worse (on the whole i actually have been enjoying kaneshiro’s decisions so this is definitely not hate), it’s just a different perspective!! i will be cutting many characters in the course of this explanation, including some fan-favorites ones, but don’t take that personally, because for the most part, it doesn’t mean i hate them 😩 in fact i typically like most of them, this is just from a writing perspective ☝🏻

disclaimer two: i am not a professional writer or mangaka or anything — i’m literally typing this while eating a rice bowl at my kitchen counter!! so don’t expect peak fiction and DO expect plenty of typos…i also don’t know how the manga is going to go and this could be rendered completely obsolete (writing this as of chapter 276) in like an arc or so 😓 please don’t come in my notes and call me stupid or say i have zero reading comprehension or whatever other insult you feel inspired to come up with (i know some of y’all like to tussle 😰), put that energy into making your own post or ignoring me or whatever brings you peace and joy 🥰

OKAY now that that’s over with we can finally get started!! LMAO sorry for the lengthy disclaimers i’m scared of some people in fandom tbh because some of the notes i’ve seen on my mutuals’ posts/some of the fandoms i’ve been in in the past…anyways…

@sharkissm here’s the post i promised you!!

YUKIMIYA KENYU

poor yuki…he went from number 5 in blue lock to a literal random in bastard münchen?? okay maybe not quite RANDOM but he’s approaching that status 😓 it feels as though the character he was set up to become in the third selection and u20 arcs is not the same as the character he became in the NEL arc both in terms of worldview and play-style!! so to begin with, i’d make some heavy adjustments to his backstory in order to explain away some of those discrepancies in a more consistent manner

as we know, yuki had a pretty good childhood, all things considered — much more in line with the isagis of the world than, say, bachira, and not to mention kaiser. well, the first thing i’m going to do is take that away from him completely!! instead of having an idyllic childhood where he’s incredibly perfect, i want him to be from a “bad” area of japan. of course, both in real life and in blue lock, japan does not have any crazily horrible terrible areas, but all countries have their sketchier parts, and i want yukimiya to be born in one of those. he lives his childhood as an absolute MENACE and is the kid that adults hate to see coming. his parents work a lot, so as much as they love him and try to raise him as best as they can, they’re not there to correct him 100% of the time, so he kinda just runs roughshod and does whatever the hell he wants. in his light novel, it’s mentioned that he learns to play soccer with this old man and his dog, and i’m actually not going to take that aspect away from him completely because it’s cute, but i will change the context a bit; instead of it being a chance encounter, the old man actually seeks yukimiya out and asks to teach him soccer. maybe his son went down a similar path that yukimiya has begun down and while he can no longer save his son, he at least wants to help yuki out and channel his energy into something more productive, hence soccer!!

after learning soccer from the old man and his dog, yukimiya begins to play it on the streets with some of the other local kids (who are just glad he’s not being a bully anymore and are happy to play along) which is the beginning of the development of his street-style dribbling (in reference to that majestic ass panel of him in the u20 game that was like hardly ever referenced again) as well as his dominance as the one-on-one king. he’s basically undefeatable, and this leads to something of a superiority complex in that he is firmly convinced that he is the protagonist, he is the one that the universe favors, and he absolutely cannot and will not lose and nothing bad can ever happen to him. he continues to be an asshole in general and is still the kind of guy that your parents would tell you to stay the hell away from, however!!

things change when his eyesight starts deteriorating. he goes to the doctor, and that’s when it’s revealed that he has this eye disease (is it even named in canon?? idk i’m just going to call it eye disease) and he might eventually go blind. that night when he leaves the doctor, it’s pretty much in despair, because soccer is the only thing that makes him happy given how miserable his surroundings are (again, there’s obviously many countries and places that have it way worse, but for young yukimiya who is comparing it to the rest of japan, it’s not that great) and he feels like he’ll now be stuck in the same cycle that his parents are caught in. on the way home, he sees one of those religious billboards that’s all like “god will always forgive you” and since he’s at one of the lowest points of his life thus far, he decides that he’s going to become religious because this blindness/disease must be a punishment from god for the things he’s done.

soon after, he’s walking home from school or something random (this is meant to be an extreme coincidence given the situation) and is scouted to be a model. this reaffirms his conviction that his conduct thus far is wrong and that if he ever wants to escape and live the good life that he dreams of, he has to abide by god’s rules and follow his ways. he gets into modeling and makes enough money that he and his family can move to a better part of the country, where he begins to play soccer for his new high school and is quickly recognized for his skill/talent. through this process, he learns how to be incredibly polite, kind, and altruistic, because he’s already been “punished” once and doesn’t want to face it again…he also wants to prove that he is better now and deserves this new life of his as much as if he had born to it + he doesn’t ever want to go back to where he used to be!!

what this backstory change accomplishes: it explains the street soccer panel in a more satisfying way, and it also gives a reason for why yuki is so kind in the 3rd selection/u-20 match and then suddenly becomes incredibly selfish in the NEL — instead of it just being explained away as ego, it shows how blue lock manages to draw out the worst aspects of one’s personality via competition, because yukimiya, who has worked so hard to be good and kind, reverts to his childhood personality almost instantly under isagi’s pressure!! it also explains why yuki’s so quick to just go back to being chill, as he probably feels guilty that he let himself slip like that and doubles down on being a “good person”

now as for the actual games this is where i think i will make the most people mad BUT i would’ve gotten rid of kurona and had yukimiya replace him!! to be honest as much as i do like kurona, he was very very randomly dropped in (i literally thought i had missed the manga panel introducing him because his actual first speaking appearance was so out of the blue) and there were already established characters that could’ve taken that role (ex. yukimiya). i would’ve sent kurona (and honestly probably kiyora) over to barcha because they likely would’ve gotten along well with bachira and otoya plus their passing skills could’ve made barcha a stronger team!! this also serves to isolate isagi more and gives him literally no one but hiori on his side — in this scenario, i want yukimiya to be SO altruistic (as per the backstory change) that he will pass to anyone, just as long as that’s what’s best for the team (the “greater good”). if yukimiya stays the 1v1 emperor, this also adds another dynamic to the kaisagi rivalry as well as possibly adding a ness vs hiori dynamic because that would mean that more often than not, yukimiya would have the ball, and he’s the one who they will rely on to break through the defense before passing to one of the other midfielders (ness, hiori) or going straight to one of the strikers (kaiser, isagi) (yes i know there’s only one striker on a team but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). this version of yukimiya could also have a very interesting dynamic with kaiser as both of them come from somewhat similar backgrounds (obviously kaiser is worse but there are similarities) however kaiser forsakes everyone in order to view himself as a god, or god’s chosen one, whereas yukimiya once believed himself to be that but has now forsaken that aspect of his ego in order to place his beliefs in others and in a higher being. this means kaiser could also be a method of awakening yukimiya (giving him interactions with more of the team than just isagi) where his selfishness makes yukimiya realize that if he wants to survive and continue dominating on the field as the 1v1 emperor, he also has to be a little more selfish (a leader instead of just a follower), allowing him to settle into a blend of his new personality and his childhood one, where he’s still kind and agreeable but also a little bossy and much more assertive/willing to score his own goals even if it’s not necessarily for the greater good 100% of the time

what this new role accomplishes: it allows yukimiya to have much MUCH more play time as he deserves given the hype built up for him during the third selection (he was ranked higher than NAGI, which yes it was in the second selection but second selection nagi was a beast so that says something about yuki for sure [as well as karasu and otoya but we’re not talking about them atm]), it gives us a smaller cast to work with on bm (because at the moment there are just too many blue lockers getting random backstories and doing one thing in a game before ghosting and honestly if all of their individual contributions were consolidated into one character, in this case yukimiya, it would make that one character much stronger as well as taking away the plotsagi accusations as now isagi isn’t the only one consistently doing things in games) and allows us to get much more attached/involved with the stakes of the games, and it gives kaiser dynamics with the rest of bastard münchen instead of just isagi, which fleshes him out a bit more as well

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

i’m sure this is what most of you are reading for (although i hope you went through the yukimiya part and enjoyed it as well!!) and trust i have come to deliver because i have many thoughts about kunigami…my biggest gripe is that his return from the wildcard was so built up and then the narrative treated it as so utterly unimportant (why do literally none of the characters gaf??? like there were a couple of panels touching on it but nowhere near the significance it shoudl’ve been given) that the readers themselves have zero stakes in it!! like if isagi, who considered kunigami a fairly good friend as far as blue lock goes, barely questions why his friend is so different now, then why should we as readers care either?? now, if/when the wildcard reveals are done, they will MOST LIKELY not have the same impact that they could’ve if kunigami as a character was treated differently in the narrative (again, maybe this will change and there will be something that makes the punch of it still hit just as hard, but as of the moment i’m writing this post, i don’t feel that that will happen)

there’s two routes that i could see kunigami taking, and both of them involve kicking out some fan favorite characters (again) but in the first case it’s only temporary!! i’ll go through the first one and then the second one and cover my ears as the bm fans yell at me for axing kaiser and ness

that’s right, route one involves getting rid of kaiser and (most likely) ness entirely!! i am actually of the firm belief that the ng11s (specifically kaiser and lorenzo) were introduced too early. people legitimately think lorenzo is a bad player just because ubers lost vs bm even though kaiser himself had difficulties when lorenzo was covering him…in my opinion the ng11s should’ve been kept as a mysterious entity whose only representative we see is sae itoshi (for narrative reasons) until the u-20 world cup, where ng11s randomly show up in some of the matches to raise the stakes and allow individual blue lockers to confront their demons/weakness and develop further (for example, in a game against, say, the italian u-20 team, maybe shidou learns how to break through a defensive set up with lorenzo at the center?? and that particular match is the ‘shidou match’ random example because idek if shidou’s built like that but you get the gist). i honestly don’t even mind kaiser being there as much because at least he’s doing stuff and still feels like he’s on another level but lorenzo shouldn’t have been shown until later — anything he does, aiku could’ve accomplished and that also would’ve built the rivalry between him and barou that was hinted at in barou’s ln…but anyways my thoughts on aiku can be a separate post because i have digressed!! back to kunigami

in this version, i want him to be isagi’s main rival instead of kaiser, who’s not here at all. make his new ego so obsessed with scoring goals that he cannot fathom anyone else doing it. whatever wildcard did fucked him up so badly that he is absolutely TERRIFIED of returning, so even if it makes the team lose, even if it makes him an asshole, he will do anything to score and prove himself as “useful” to the team so that, even in the worst-case scenario, he’s the one being chosen instead of anyone else (the way reo was chosen over him). this also creates a much deeper rivalry than just “who gets to be the star of the team” as it’s rooted in kunigami’s insecurity and fear of wtvr the fuck was going on in wildcard. this also builds wildcard up as something much more terrifying than it has been so far in canon, because when you think about it it MUST have been horrible and that’s gone somewhat unacknowledged except for brief hints and glimpses, and it also adds a legal/moral/ethical dilemma — because obviously wildcard WORKS, kunigami is the proof of it (as isagi’s main rival, he’s scoring all of the goals that kaiser did, so he’s obviously eating it up), but is it sustainable?? is it something that they can do en masse?? because there’s no question that it’s destroyed kunigami completely, so is it even worth it?? or is it one of those things that you think is worth it when you start (the way kunigami must’ve) but afterwards you regret entirely??

however, given the importance that kaiser has to the NEL (he’s kind of the face of it to be honest), as well as how many fans he has, i can totally understand leaving him in, so i have another option, which i also really like. in this route, i want to use kunigami to replace ness — which doesn’t make sense at first i know but hear me out!! ness hasn’t contributed enough to the plot (besides his dynamic w kaiser ig) for me to feel bad about kicking him out honestly and that’s one less character on the main cast that we have to care about, allowing for more depth to the characters that DO exist. in this scenario, kaiser’s in a loki-esque situation, where all he needs to get that coveted re al offer is someone with the crazy strength to push through players like lorenzo (we’ve seen kaiser struggling with defense before, and as barou says in second selection, kunigami has the build to hold the ball up at the top of the field)…enter kunigami, who’s very obviously a prime candidate for this, and kaiser POUNCES!! he thinks he’s going to have to convince kuni to take his side instead of isagi’s, but surprisingly, kunigami very readily agrees to it. this is because in this route, kunigami resents the blue lockers, including isagi, because while he was effectively being tortured, they were being lauded with praise and shown on live tv as celebrities and whatnot. they never suffered in the way he did, and although he does believe that wildcard was necessary for him to evolve (not a healthy mindset but the one drilled into him), he still wishes the rest had endured what he did, because it scarred him so much that he almost cannot handle knowing that he went through it alone while the others were enjoying themselves (comparatively)?? so he teams up with kaiser and is actively working against his old friends (for maximum effect add in reminders/callbacks to the team z days to give extra angst to the “betrayal”)…it would also be very fun to juxtapose kunigami’s and kaiser’s backstories here, as kunigami had a good life that was ruined by soccer, whereas kaiser had a shitty life that was saved by soccer, and this could definitely come through in their particular brands of desperation while playing!!

now, there’s plenty of theories floating around that ness will assist isagi in scoring the final point against pxg (now that IGAGURI is in for some reason idk if that’s still a likely outcome but i can def see it happening) however my counter-point is don’t have kunigami assist isagi with the two-gun volley…give that to yukimiya (given he’s a character like i outlined previously) or even hiori, and instead have kunigami pay isagi back for the half of the steak (therefore acknowledging their past and old friendship for the first time since his return) by passing him the ball instead of kaiser, the way everyone expected/was covering for. this allows isagi to still score the final goal against pxg while giving it more of an emotional meaning than just “oh isagi has to win because he’s the main character”

alternatively, if pxg is meant to win, then i would leave the two-gun volley as it is, but i would just make it so that the setup is still kunigami choosing isagi over kaiser and acknowledging their old friendship, and i would make a bigger deal out of the pass since the build up is different!! i also wouldn’t have noa tell kunigami to manmark shidou the entire time…instead i would make kunigami obsessed with shidou in the BEGINNING of the game, but i would have kaiser/isagi/noel noa yell at him for this obsession and remind him that the objective is winning, not revenge, so he’s still active in the game instead of just being stuck on babysitting shidou duty (this role could be given to yukimiya actually, again given that he’s written as i stated previously, as he’s the 1v1 emperor so he has enough of the physicality to accomplish that and keep the ball away from shidou if it gets near him, and he’s already done enough in the previous games that it’s alright for him to take a bit more of a backseat especially after two-gun volley)

as a footnote, EITHER route you like, there’s one thing that was absolutely a missed opportunity which i’d like to focus on, and that’s kunigami’s dynamic with noel noa. it’s not a secret that kunigami’s supposed to be a copy of noel noa, but what does noa think of this?? i need their dynamic to be weird and fucked up…like he’s noa’s protege, as he’s meant to be a copy of the man, but noa is simultaneously absolutely disgusted by ego, becuase what do you mean his old rival who faded into obscurity has suddenly returned with this child whose body and life and future he completely ruined, whose mental state is absolutely destroyed, just so that he could finally “beat” noa?? just so that he could make a copy of the man that he could never actually be himself?? and this disgust with ego transfers to noa also almost shunning kuni and avoiding him when possibly/treating him way more strictly than he does the others…which only makes kunigami try to work ten times as hard to prove himself…but this only freaks noa out more and it’s just a vicious cycle LSKDFJHSLK

ANYWAYS so this was a crazy long post but it’s really not meant to be taken all too seriously!! like i said these are just musings about how two characters that i personally like could’ve been used differently 🤩 if you read all of this then you’re a goat fr and feel free to talk to me about blue lock/anything else at any time!!

what was that youtube ass outro

[trans-androgyne]

You’re honestly one of the most approachable transandrophobia bloggers I know.

One thing I’d like to discuss about is that a lot of the transandrophobia is being spearheaded by white trans women.

It shows a lot that whiteness is still everreaching even onto gender. There’s BIPOC trans people (especially BIPOC transmascs) that get harassed and shut down by these large white trans women bloggers. One time I saw one of them say “that is moot” to intersex people not being including on discussions about AFAB trans women.

It’s a very important concept that people are aware that white women hold up racist structures, it’s the same with the big white trans women on this site I’ve noticed. Due to their whiteness they do not actually know intersectionality and assume their gender is the sole reason of oppression. That white concepts of gender, sexuality, and disability are a truth and applied to everything.

I’ve been vocal about being a BIPOC transfemme, and the blatant bigotry and cruelty from the big white transfemme bloggers just ring it bad for me. My culture taught me kindness and patience, so seeing this popular rise in aggression and entitlement in transfemme spaces has rendered them quite unsafe for the people they supposedly protect like me.

The best conclusion I have for this is that the rise in transandrophobia has ties to racism, ableism, inter sexism much more. I want my discussions of trans experience such as both transmisogyny and transandrophobia to be free from other pre dispositioned bigotry. That as a transfemme someone who they claim to protect, that the whole wider trans community needs to do better.

Take care and I hope your day is wonderful

Thank you, I appreciate your analysis here! The transfems I know have also pointed out that a lot of it seems to be coming from predstrogen’s very white online trans women social sphere. It seems like transfems of color on here also have strong criticisms of that group’s behavior, including acting like being a transfem inherently means you have all the best takes on oppression. I hope we can get some better, more intersectional perspectives in the conversation.

[kremlin]

could you explain for the "it makes the game go faster" idiots like myself what a GPU actually is? what's up with those multi thousand dollar "workstation" ones?

ya, ya. i will try and keep this one as approachable as possible

starting from raw reality. so, you have probably dealt with a graphics card before, right, stick in it, connects to motherboard, ass end sticks out of case & has display connectors, your vga/hdmi/displayport/whatever. clearly, it is providing pixel information to your monitor. before trying to figure out what's going on there, let's see what that entails. these are not really simple devices, the best way i can think to explain them would start with "why can't this be handled by a normal cpu"

a bog standard 1080p monitor has a resolution of 1920x1080 pixels, each comprised of 3 bytes (for red, blue, & green), which are updated 60 times a second:

~3 gigs a second is sort of a lot. on the higher end, with a 4k monitor updating 144 times a second:

17 gigs a second is definitely a lot. so this would be a good "first clue" there is some specialized hardware handling that throughput unrelated the cpu. the gpu. this would make sense, since your cpu is wholly unfit for dealing with this. if you've ever tried to play some computer game, with fancy 3D graphics, without any kind of video acceleration (e.g. without any kind of gpu [1]) you'd quickly see this, it'd run pretty slowly and bog down the rest of your system, the same way having a constantly-running program that is copying around 3-17GB/s in ram

it's worth remembering that displays operate isochronously -- they need to be fed pixel data at specific, very tight time timings. your monitor does not buffer pixel information, whatever goes down the wire is displayed immediately. not only do you have to transmit pixel data in realtime, you have to also send accompanying control data (e.g. data that bookends the pixel data, that says "oh this is the end of the frame", "this is the begining of the frame, etc", "i'm changing resolutions", etc) within very narrow timing tolerances otherwise the display won't work at all

3-17GB/s may not be a lot in the context of something like a bulk transfer, but it is a lot in an isochronous context, from the perspective of the cpu -- these transfers can't occur opportunistically when a core is idle, they have to occur now, and any core that is assigned to transmit pixel data has stop and drop whatever its doing immediately, switch contexts, and do the transfer. this sort of constant pre-empting would really hamstring the performance of everything else running, like your userspace programs, the kernel, etc.

so for a long list of reasons, there has to be some kind of special hardware doing this job. gpu.

instead of calculating every pixel value manually, the cpu just needs to give a high-level geometric overview of what it wants rendered, and does this with vertices. a vertex is very simple, it's just a point in 3D space, for example (5,2,3). just like a coordinate grid on paper with an extra dimension. with just a few vertices, you can have models like this:

where each dot at the intersection of lines in the above image, would be a vertex. gpus essentially handle huge number of vertices.

in the context of, like, a 3D video game, you have to render these vertex-based models conditionally. you're viewing it at some distance, at some angle, and the model is lit from some light source, and has perhaps some shadows cast across it, etc -- all of this requires a huge amount of vertex math that has to be calculated within the same timeframes as i described before -- and that is what a gpu is doing, taking a vertex-defined 3D environment, and running this large amount of computation in parallel. unlike your cpu which may only have, idk, 4-32 execution cores, your gpu has thousands -- they're nowhere near as featureful as your cpu cores, they can only do very specific simple math with vertices, but there's a ton of them, and they run alongside each other.

so that is what a gpu "does", in as few words as i can write

the things in the post you're referring to (V100/A100/H100 tensor "gpus") are called gpus because they are also periperal hardware that does a specific kind of math, massively, in parallel, they are just designed and fabricated by the same companies that make gpus so they're called gpus (annoyingly). they don't have any video output, and would probably be pretty bad at doing that kind of work. regular gpus excel at calculating vertices, tensor gpus operate on tensors, which are like matrixes, but with arbitrary numbers of dimensions. try not to think about it visually. they also use a weirder float. they're used for things like "artificial intelligence", training LLMs and whatever, but also for real things, like scientific weather/economy/particle models or simulations

they're very expensive because they cost the same, if not more, than what it cost to design & fabricate regular video gpus, but with a trillionth of the customer base. for every ten million rat gamers that will buy a gpu there is going to be one business buying one A100 or whatever.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ disclaimer | private policy | unsubscribe

[veryace-ficrecs]

X-Men Found Family Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Scott's Life is Hard by yellow_caballero - Rated G

Scott cares a lot less about leading the X-Men then he does about getting the kids to school on time. Wrangling a mansion full of teenagers is the work of a lifetime, but Scott's not going anywhere. Sometimes love has to be enough. And somehow Scott's father of the year. In which bees are a novelty to ex-brainwashed apocalypse assasins, rotating groups of teenagers makes breakfast increasingly complicated, Magneto reads the daily newspaper, and Scott is the supreme god king dictator of 20 frightened mutant teenagers.

We Are Not Alone by WhiteravenGreywolf - Rated T

After escaping their cage, the group struggles to find their place in the world, all the while being pursued by the Essex Corporations who does not like to lose assets, even if those assets are a couple of rebellious teenagers.

When My Fist Clenches, Crack It Open by versaphile - Rated M

More than anything else, David wants to believe he's not sick because that means he isn't crazy. It means he can fall in love and live happily ever after. But if he surrenders to that hope and he's wrong, then there's no coming back. The Shadow King is victorious, but the battle for David Haller’s soul has only begun. David fails to escape Division 3's intervention and is forced into therapy. With his relationships ruined, his mind split, and his past a lie, death seems like the only choice left. But Farouk is pulling the strings to keep him alive. As David's friends and family work desperately to save him, David must reclaim his past and present to avoid losing his future to the monster who destroyed him.

I'll Close My Mouth (I Won't Say a Word) by Shaderose - Rated T

"Knowing that he doesn't belong. Because he doesnt, doesn't fit into the clean, sleek environment, with his too sharp frame and his dirtied, ripped up sneakers. His old tattered clothes, and his skin riddled with scars. Imperfections. Flaws. A man of loud, harsh words and bruised knuckles, quick fingers and slick feet, in a world of softness, gentle and quiet. Of course he doesn't belong. Why would he? This isn't his home. And yet, Mrs. Kaplan, with her too warm eyes and her too gentle smile, tells him, "Welcome home," anyways. Yeesh." -- A story about friends, family, insecurities, truth and, most importantly, the true meaning of love.

A Day in the Life by SeaSpectre160 - Rated G

Amidst all the discussion and controversy over the 'mutant threat', one reporter goes to the mutants themselves to get their perspective.

(Take It) All Away by Sweetbriar15 - Rated T

Certain they would turn him away, but knowing nowhere else to go, Lance approaches the X-men for help when his team is stricken ill.

Hold my hand and float back to the summer time by caughtinanocean - Rated T

Julio and Shatterstar learn how to come home, and what you do after. “‘Star, have you ever thought about...doing something else?” “Well, there was televised combat in an arena,” Shatterstar says, “and we just led a revolution.” Julio looks at the floor underneath his socked feet. He feels sort of stupid saying this aloud. “I mean, like. Normal stuff.” “Normal stuff,” Shatterstar echoes. “Huh.”

Ringer by Crewe - Rated G

"Guess what I just did," Bobby said, ignoring him to reach around and get a finger on the side of the bowl. With a little concentration, frost spread out from the point of contact across the bowl and the ice cream inside refroze. Warren begrudgingly lowered his shoulder to give him another bite in exchange for services rendered. "What," he said flatly, elbowing Bobby until he slid off of him and onto the stool beside. "I got Scott to play a game," he said archly. "He's outside being, like, really intense about horseshoes." -- Scott starts playing horseshoes, and he just doesn't think to stop. His friends don't notice, until they do.

Lost and Found by ManicRavingsofaLunatic - Rated T

Alex rescues a kid from one of Trask's facilities; a kid that trusts him implicitly and looks to Alex for protection. The last time Alex was trusted with a such a burden he failed. But that Scott and this Scott are definitely not the same person. And Alex won't fail again this time. Basically, this is the story of how Alex found Scott

Don't Be Afraid by flightinflame - Rated T

A lot of people fear Jean for her telepathy. But Charles never will.

Home Sweet Home by PUNK_MENACE - Rated G

Set after "Greetings from Genosha". X-Men are trained mutants, ready to fight whatever evil may try to hurt humankind or mutantkind. Which means that instead of sulking around the mansion they detected Mystique's presence on the island and managed to save Kurt. He wasn't left unscathed, though.

In These Ever Changing Times by saekhwa - Rated G

There are two things Armando knows, even one death and twenty years later: he's an X-Man, and he'll always have Alex's back.

For Just One Day Let's Only Think About Love by Duck_Life - Rated T

Sometimes, even a runaway bride isn't enough to deter a wedding after-party. Set immediately following X-Men Gold #30. Welcome to Rogue and Remy's reception.

Christmas Traditions by Ava_DAlain - Rated T

It’s the time of year that brings people together to celebrate, reflect, and create lasting memories…Maybe even some new traditions. A fluff-filled collection of one-shots, ficlets, and drabbles featuring Rogue, Gambit, and the rest of the X-Men, just for fun. Tags will be updated to reflect new chapters.

Raising Laura by LucasGreenX23 - Rated M

What if Project X-23 had been delayed several years? Beaten and abused to breed out all emotion, lead to believe that she was nothing more than a weapon to be used, a much younger X-23 has never known the concept of kindness. Then the man known as Wolverine arrived with his X-Men, and suddenly, the little mutant is faced with her greatest challenge yet… being part of a family.

The Brotherhood of (very nice) Mutants by AetherBunny - Rated G

“Pete? Can I ask you something?” “Sure, anything.” Scott looked at him for a moment and then seemed to change his mind. Scott and Pietro miss their siblings and Pete is a very good surrogate big brother. Scott gives Pete a good idea and Pete gets his sister back. This is going in the "I'm just going to keep adding Wanda" collection, but it has nothing to do with the other fics in it. It's just, you know, I added Wanda...

Desperado, Why Don't You Come To Your Senses by WretiaBlue - Rated T

Come down from your fences, open the gate It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you You better let somebody love you Let somebody love you before it's too late. Desperado, Eagles 1973 ~~~ Or: Gambit joins the X-Men. Maybe things won't turn out so bad after all.

Uncanny X-Men 1943 by stellarose - Rated M

X-Men AU. Emma Frost runs Division X, a classified squad within the secretive Special Operations Executive based in London. It isn't their job to win the war, only to save those they can. Emma's squad of Psylocke, Angel, Logan and Fantomex set out of rescue three mutants trapped in occupied and increasingly hostile France. But when the mission takes a turn for the worse, Emma and the team must decide if they cut their losses, or fight twice as hard to bring everyone home.

New Moon by digeridoo - Rated M

Logan is left to babysit a mansion full of mutant kids for the weekend while the rest of the X-Men are on conference to boost mutant acceptance.

Eulogy by Secret_Pizza_Party - Rated G

The mansion is too full of ghosts—the dead ones, and the living. The inhabitants move through rooms, move past one another as if they’ve become insubstantial, incapable of interacting. A haunting that no one can find a way to fit to words. ------ After the events of Episode 5, the X-Men gather together to say final farewells to those they've lost.

Familial ties by Multifandom_damnation - Rated T

Peter knows his father is Magneto no matter how much he tries to deny it, and even though Kurt doesn't know who his mother is, Professor X is more than happy to help him figure it out. I think it's about time we rejoined some families, don't you?

BROTHERS AND CATS by Honmyo_Seagull - Rated T

The one where Gabby gets to meet Gambit’s cats, where the Cajun fears Daken might be his evil twin and quotes Shakespeare, where Bullseye would just like people to let him do his job, where Laura might remain oblivious of certain events but still spends a pretty good day.

Sweet Home Alabama by Rachel_Martin64 - Rated T

On the way back to Alkali Lake, Scott saves a life along the highway and gets his own life saved in return. This story starts at the beginning of X3, when Scott leaves the mansion, and immediately goes AU. If you hated the way X3 treated Scott, this story's for you.

[fozmeadows]

hey. i think i'm going through a phase of self-hatred and… I don't know, of believing I'm not capable of anything. would you have any tips or books that approach this from an AFAB/trans perspective so I can cope? (it's not that I hate myself for being trans. I just have insecurities, anxieties and I don't know what to do to stop most things from seeming so discouraging, for lack of a better word.)

I'm sorry you're having a hard time! I don't have any book recommendations, and I'm not exactly an expert, but:

Where possible, try to focus on what you enjoy about the process of an action instead of worrying about the end result. A lot of anxiety comes from privileging a hypothetical future version of yourself ahead of the person you are in the moment, and while it's still good to have goals and aspirations for the future, that doesn't render your present self irrelevant, because that's who you have to be to achieve them.

To give a personal example: late last year, I was really disappointed with how little reading I'd managed to get done in 2023 particularly, but also over the pandemic. I'd bought all these awesome books that I really wanted to read, but I never seemed to get around to starting most of them, and meanwhile, I was spending hours of my life mindlessly doomscrolling Twitter and TikTok, which regardless of anything else is a really good way to depress yourself about the state of the world. So I sat down and thought about it, and I realized that the problem was how much pressure I was putting on myself about reading. I wanted so badly to finish books that I was psyching myself out of starting them in the first place, because each choice had to be Perfect, lest I pick the wrong book at the wrong time and waste twenty minutes or an hour or three reading something I might later set aside. And because I'd subconsciously set the stakes for starting a book so much higher than they needed to be, I'd end up dithering and scrolling social media to delay having to make a high-pressure choice at all.

In other words: I'd become so concerned about Future Foz's hypothetical dislike of a book I was yet to start reading that Present Foz would be scared to start it in the first place. I was forever privileging a version of myself that didn't exist and likely never would over the person I was now, and it was making me wildly unhappy, because it felt like I was failing at something I loved.

So my single New Years' Resolution became: to value myself and my time in the moment. If I catch myself scrolling for too long, I ask myself: is there literally anything else I'd rather be doing right now? Could I start a TV show, or a book, or a game, or write something, or message a friend, or have a bath? It doesn't matter if the activity goes anywhere long term; what matters is that I inevitably get more pleasure out of doing something than not. My time now matters, because I matter.

And suddenly, just from that one change? For the first time in I couldn't even say how long, I've read something every single day this year. In the whole of 2023, I read just 67 books; it's now the 30th of March 2024, and I've already finished 33. By giving myself permission to start things without the pressure to finish them, I'm suddenly finishing way more than when I was telling myself I had to finish everything, and I am vastly happier for it.

Is the world still a burning hellscape that daily makes me want to yeet a solid 80% of elected politicians globally into the sun? Yes. Am I still working on self-improvement in other areas of my life? Yes. Is it magically any easier being trans and queer in the current moment? No. But it helps to focus on who I am now, in this hour, in this minute, instead of worrying so much about whether some future version of me will think I spent this time badly that I don't use it for anything at all.

I don't know if this is helpful to your situation, and if it's not, I apologize for rambling. But it's a little change I've made lately that's helped me a lot, and I hope it might help you, too.

[lil-tachyon]

Got any good resources for clothing drawing tips?

Okay so quick little introduction before I try to answer this question. First of all, sorry for letting this languish in the inbox for so long. I have a lot I want to say about this and I'd really like to make a proper "tutorial" but this week took a lot out of me so what you're going to get are some visual notes on graph paper and some rambling thoughts. Maybe down the line I'll try to flesh this out more into a proper guide, but for now it is what it is.

Second- for many different art concepts I can give you some really great recommended reading for self-teaching. There's a whole section of my website with links to things that helped me learn. Clothing is one of those things where I never found a book or tutorial that really "clicked" with me. It's one of the few areas of art where I feel like it's fair to say I'm genuinely self-taught. So what you're going to get here is very much my opinion, not undisputed common wisdom or whatever. Take it with a grain of salt. This is how I draw, not the "right way" to draw.

Third- drawing clothes is not something fundamental like perspective or rendering where there are actual hard-and-fast "rules" you can learn to guide you. It's not even like anatomy where there are approaches that have been worked out and passed down by artists over generations. I think about drawing clothing as a synthesis of several different skills- a little bit of anatomy, a little bit of perspective, a little bit of rendering. Honestly a smidge of graphic design. You're employing a "cloud" of your artistic skills towards a specific end. What this means is that the TLDR of this post is going to be "do what you would normally do to improve at drawing but apply it to clothing." So don't expect something life-changing, instead just open your mind to maybe trying some new things you hadn't thought of before. Also this is going to be more about drawing than painting, that is more about "lines" than "shapes" but the two skills overlap and the same concepts should be broadly applicable. But my examples are going to be drawings.

Okay intro out of the way. Clothes are mostly just tubes of fabric, fabric wants to fall down. The human body and sometimes wind and water and other fluids will stop this fabric from falling down all at once and instead give it a shape. Keep this in mind. It's helpful to know how clothes are actually constructed if you want to know how they will deform when falling across the figure. Where a garment is simply a length of fabric, it's very flexible. It can bunch together or be stretched taught. This is most noticeable at the parts of the body that open and shut like hinges- knees, elbows, and armpits. The behavior of garments at these areas of the body is highly dynamic.

At seams where different sections of fabric are stitched together, movement can be come more limited. Seams are usually imperfect- pieces of fabric of slightly different lengths might be stitched together or fabric may shrink over time around a thread causing it to pucker and wrinkle. For these reasons, seams often act as the originating areas for folds and wrinkles, even when a garment is not in a particularly flexed/active state.

In a two-dimensional image, it can be helpful to describe a garment in terms of silhouette and wrinkles/folds. The silhouette is the actual boundary of the garment, where the fabric comes to an end. The wrinkles/folds are where different parts of the garment pass in front of each other or where the fabric becomes bunched up to the point that light can't reach inside and occlusion shadows form. You should always keep the overall silhouette of the garment in mind to inform the bigger shapes you draw, but you will use wrinkles and folds to demonstrate how the garment twists and deforms. These are the basic tools in your arsenal. Keep it simple.

There are lots of different ways to approach wrinkles. My advice and my personal preference is to draw wrinkles as shapes and not just lines. Specifically, tapered shapes (like triangles) and be really good both for implying motion and the varying depth of a fold/wrinkle. Experiment with different shapes of varying angularity, fill texture, etc. Your hands and eyes will guide you towards what looks and feels good. There's no right way but I would advise you to exaggerate! Ask yourself- what's the biggest shape I can draw here? How can I twist it to make it bigger, crazier but still describe the form in a way that makes sense? It can be exhausting to just try to perfectly copy a reference and also using your imagination like this when doing studies will help build up your visual library for when you're drawing/designing clothing from imagination. In general I would advise you to focus more on drawing something that looks good (ie is composed of shapes that you find aesthetically pleasant) than is "correct."

Quick recap: Garments fall down, you can simplify an article of clothing into a silhouette described by folds and wrinkles. What next? Observe! Take notes! It is worth your time to think about how common articles of clothing are constructed. Jeans, t-shirts, dresses, etc. I used to do some hobbyist sewing and clothing alteration and I think that hands-on work with clothes has really affected the way I think about drawing them. You don't have to go that far but like- look at the world around you. Stuck on the bus, in school, in a meeting, etc? Even if you can't draw, look at how your pants bunch up around your legs, look at the sleeves of someone sitting next to you. I mean, don't be weird about it, but these are valuable observations. Think about how you would draw those things! Really getting good at drawing clothes involves studying them in the wild, understanding how they work, building up your visual library. Look at a faded denim jacket- at the puckered places where the indigo has rubbed away or the permanent creases that hardly see the light of day and remain a deeper blue. Look at petrochemical techwear outfits that break into jagged, high-sheen triangular wrinkles. Soak it all in!

Save pictures of and take notes on outfits you like, designers you like, garments you like. Keep track of these things. Come back and study them over time. Have fun with it! I have folders and folders and folders of images of clothes that I come back to constantly. Over time and with lots of study you'll learn what you want to draw when you draw clothes and that's half the battle. You'll have images of buttons, pockets, belts, laces, fabrics, seams, dancing around in your head that you can deploy at will. It's delightful.

Hope this helps! If anyone has more advice to add, please do! If this tutorial helped anyone, please show me your drawings! If you'd like more stuff like this from me, just send me an ask or an email and I'll answer it when I can.

Peace,

Logan

[chernabogs]

Fast Yuya facts from the first twst novel (will add more when I re-read it)

- Described as 'very average' with a face 'one can forget by the end of the day' (although he does state his eyes are slightly rounder, which he implies is the only unique aspect he might have)

- Has no siblings and lives with his parents (mother and father) in an assumedly middle class neighbourhood

- Had been in high school 6 months when he arrived at NRC, putting him at about 16

- Is a self described introvert who enjoys rules (when they're reasonable) and has a strong sense of moral justice (he tells Deuce to speak up when something is wrong, which encourages Deuce to speak up on Ace's behalf)

- Yuya is quite perceptive too. He can see something is off with Crowley, is implied to see past Cater's excitable appearance, and is quick to note aspects of others not spoken out loud

- Yuya states that he avoids friendships to avoid conflict and also because he fears having something he'll need to fight for. With this, it is reiterated he has no friends back in his world several times (this perspective he carries begins to change at the end of book 1).

- He demonstrates high levels of anxiety in the novel, especially regarding others opinions. There are 2 instances in the novel he fears Ace is mad at him, to the point that it renders him unable to speak to Ace to respond to his questions. Yuya does express that he wants to speak up about things, but just finds it hard to in the moment. This, too, begins to change at the end of book 1.

- Yuya also states some fear towards those in Housewarden roles. He expresses not wanting to meet Malleus, being nervous of Leona, and initially scared of Riddles presented power

- Yuya has some awareness of the Seven in his own world (he reflects on the story of Snow White but is unable to name it or place it)

- Yuya demonstrates esteem issues. He states at one point it's better if everyone forgets him during a 'dream' scene of his world, and says he's sure only his parents know he's missing. This perspective begins to change with book 1.

- Prefers a pacifist approach to things and on more then one occasion tries to avoid leadership rolea (using himself as bait, agreeing that Grim can be 'housewarden', etc.). At the end of book 1, Ace and Deuce state Yuya isn't non-confrontational, but is instead very stubborn.

- Seems to genuinely care for Grim despite initial conflicts, as well as the Heartslabyul boys. In turn, Yuya comes across as a compassionate individual as well.

[typellblog]

Tsubasa Tiger - An Analysis

This is an arc about personal identity, which is fitting for the first book in the series narrated by someone other than our main character. Tsubasa’s halting attempts to discover herself feel almost in parallel to Nisio’s attempts to expand her internal world beyond that perceived by Koyomi.

It quickly becomes evident that Hanekawa Tsubasa does not know herself, the usual catchphrase of ‘I only know what I know’ recontextualised with the understanding that there are many things she does not know on purpose. This is what Izuko tells her, and note that for all her talk of Tsubasa knowing nothing, the specific facts that she focuses on - the tiger, Tsubasa’s feelings for Koyomi, the cram school burning down - are things that Tsubasa should know about. Izuko doesn’t stun her with information that would be impossible for Tsubasa to obtain, but rather things that it should be impossible for her to not know.

This absence is at the heart of this arc’s central oddity, the titular tiger. It’s rendered variously as the Tyrannical Tiger, Hystery Tiger, History Tiger, etc. I think the most immediately relevant things to draw on when talking about it are how it symbolises both the past and Tsubasa’s strong emotions. However, in her usual fashion, neither of these are immediately obvious in the tiger, which appears out of nowhere, rooted in no history, motivated by no emotion. It is singularly uninterested in these things, and that is precisely why it is useful to her. 

Its role is to burn the past. It is powered by her ‘dark’ emotions, but is not itself touched by them. Its habit of arson is found in her envy, the repressed desire for a home of her own leading her to destroy those of others. She also, in a more personal sense, envies the family. Her parents growing closer to one another. Hitagi and her father. The Araragi siblings and their mother. 

The reason, then, why she manages to stop herself from destroying their houses as well is because of the genuine intimacy and love that she manages to build with Hitagi and the Fire Sisters (as partially represented by the shower/bath scenes). She never manages to hate Hitagi for ‘taking’ Koyomi from her, because despite loving Koyomi she ends up a little bit in love with Hitagi too.

Over all three of Tsubasa’s arcs we’ve slowly been approaching the truth of the similarity between Koyomi and Tsubasa. The difference between them and Hitagi, or Kanbaru.

Tsubasa is someone that resists change, refuses to move forward. To some extent the backwards chronology of her first two arcs doesn’t matter because the conclusion is almost the same. Just don’t worry about it. Continue as normal.  This can seem a frighteningly noble thing, from Koyomi’s perspective. It is a frighteningly broken thing, to Tsubasa. 

Hitagi says she’s a ‘failure as a creature’. That she has no sense of danger, simply accepting everything as it comes. The concept of the ‘wild creature’ invoked here is obviously connected to how her oddities manifest as animals, holding the instincts and impulses that she rejects in herself.  She eats her food unseasoned, not because she prefers it that way, but because the difference in taste doesn’t matter to her. She approves of goodness to the exact same extent she approves of tediousness, of flavourlessness, of banality. In that sense, Hitagi questions, can even her love for Koyomi be considered real? Does she have a reason to prefer him in particular?

We’ve been told that she’s the ‘real deal’ in comparison to Koyomi’s fake, but what that turns out to mean is simply that Koyomi has a basic level of self-awareness. He knows how it looks to others, to be so self-sacrificing. It makes you stand out. Tsubasa fails to recognise this - how else would she still have the misconception that she’s been correctly acting as a ‘normal girl’?

Besides that one point, the two are remarkably similar. Their lack of self-regard drives them into service of others, all the while stubbornly refusing to reach out for help on their own. Koyomi fails again and again, repeating the same mistakes, accepting his old hypocrisies, and through it all, remaining himself. 

That’s why she loves him. Because he ‘confronts his own weakness’. Because when he saved Shinobu he was crying, and Tsubasa can’t remember the last time she herself cried. 

The second chapter ends with Tsubasa noting that she always gives thanks after a meal, for the plants and animals that have been killed ‘for my sake, of all creatures.’ Especially after spring break, she says. After encountering a vampire, after witnessing what it is to be a vampire, to devour someone else’s life for your own sake. But here I also think about the cat. An animal that died on the side of the road. A predator, whose energy drain selfishly takes from others. 

Just as Koyomi and Tsubasa are alike, so are their oddities. They both take the form of creatures that are capable of imposing on others, of asserting their own desires over those of others, and for that reason the both of them are deathly afraid of letting them out. They shrink back inside themselves, trying their best to avoid bumping into anyone else, to avoid cursing them with their touch. 

But where Koyomi, in his fumbling way, makes progress & reconciles with Shinobu, Tsubasa casts her cat aside. She loses the memories of its rampage after it leaves. This doesn’t seem strange at first. We assume this is how the oddity works. It is how it works! For Tsubasa. The cat isn’t the one removing her memories, she just went ahead and did that on her own. Like she does with everything. 

There’s a conversation between cat and vampire in this book. Shinobu brings up the tale of Napoleon sleeping in the bath & points out that two very abnormal things can combine to seem normal. Black Hanekawa is one such abnormal thing, an oddity, but going down this train of thought has Hanekawa wondering if she isn’t one herself, if her own ability to ignore inconveniences and tolerate the intolerable isn’t also something ambiguously supernatural. 

Episode says that she had an ‘overwhelming presence’ when he met her during spring break, that she almost seems normal now, having since cut off the cat from herself. Having cut off the tiger. It’s almost a contradiction. The more she relies on supernatural powers, the more normal she herself becomes. 

Perhaps the model student persona of Hanekawa Tsubasa was also a constructed identity, constructed for the purpose of protecting herself, just as Kuro was. 

After all, to a vampire’s eyes, there’s not much of a difference between human and oddity.

Again we have the oddity as a twisted reflection of its master. Shinobu sees everyone equally as food, while to Koyomi both humans and oddities are equally in need of his help. He saves Shinobu despite her monstrous nature, he saves Mayoi despite her being the cause of the incident. To him there’s no distinction, both Kuro and Tsubasa are Hanekawa. 

We are going to be seeing nightmares for the rest of our lives, he tells Tsubasa in Neko Kuro. You will never stop being that person. Because when it comes down to it, he doesn’t, and neither does she. 

It feels a little off. People can change, can’t they? People can always change. Does she really have to drag that cat, that tiger, around with her forever? In this book we get a more complete picture. What cannot change is the past. What happened, what you’ve done, that never goes away. You can become a different person as much as you like, as long as you never deny it. That the cat, the tiger, they were, are, both you. You can change as much as you like, but all of those changes, steps and missteps are still Hanekawa Tsubasa. 

Her mistake was pretending that the cat wasn’t her, pushing everything onto Kuro as though it had nothing to do with Tsubasa herself. 

As Gaen points out though, this is normal. Everyone goes through their life lying to themselves & each other to cope. Tsubasa isn’t special. What makes her special in this arc is accepting the oddities as part of herself, asking them to come home. Supposedly they’d disappear on their own. From both an oddity’s perspective, and a human perspective, that’s the preferable outcome. But just like Koyomi, Tsubasa doesn’t see this from an oddity’s perspective, or a human’s perspective. To her the cat and tiger have become family. 

The theme of this series, then, really hasn’t changed from the first arc, where a girl without her weight takes back her emotions. 

Hitagi and her own self-driven changes are vital to this arc, her affection for Tsubasa driving the girl to accept help freely given. Tsubasa still resists the idea of calling Koyomi, taking up his time, making her feelings known to him, and so both Hitagi and the Fire Sisters end up demonstrating the virtues of kindness freely given, what a family ‘should’ be like. This helps Tsubasa understand the character of her own family situation, one that she finally bluntly articulates as abuse. 

Both Tsubasa and Koyomi have that tendency, looking away from uncomfortable truths in order to maintain their way of life. Take, for example, the situation with Kanbaru, where he’s just a bit too charitable, doesn’t quite understand how much she wants him dead. He’s unable to solve the incident on his own, unable to realise the problem with getting himself killed to solve it, and in the end is only able to provide a justification for Hitagi and Kanbaru to meet. To buy time for her to get there. 

It’s an overstepping of bounds, a needless intervention, an unwanted favour. But it’s not pointless. 

It’s a classic Koyomi-narrated arc, in that way. He’s a bit slow to understand the mind of the ‘victim’, is unsuccessful in his attempts in intervention when compared to Oshino, the specialist, and Kanbaru has to just go ahead and save herself. 

Consider, now, the structure of Tsubasa Tiger. For once, our protagonist isn’t Koyomi. And yet, in a similar manner to Koyomi Vamp, we find the narrator herself to be the one afflicted by an oddity. 

She’s a bit slow to understand what’s going on in the mind of the victim, has the situation laid out for her by Izuko, the specialist, and in the end - 

Her attempts at intervention are unsuccessful. She can’t defeat the tiger on her own. She can only buy time. 

Just as Koyomi’s business with Kanbaru is an overstepping of bounds, a needless intervention, an unwanted favour, Tsubasa’s business with the tiger is ‘impossible, reckless and-’

Not futile. Never pointless. 

Isn’t the point of Koyomi in Suruga Monkey that without him risking himself, the two may never have come back together? That despite being unwanted, his selflessness is, in the end,  appreciated? 

The point of Tsubasa Tiger, then, is that people will come to help you if you call them. Koyomi demonstrates this in Nekomonogatari Kuro, with his text message trick. Here, in Shiro, Tsubasa returns the favour, finally reaching out to him by sending a picture, escaping the carefully constructed boundary of her school uniform, letting him know that she wants to stay in touch with him, that she doesn’t mind imposing on his time a little. 

One might question the role of Koyomi in this narrative, appearing at the end to save the day. Isn’t this arc supposed to be about Tsubasa? Doesn’t she have to resolve her own issues? Do we not all have to save ourselves?

That was never true, though. Koyomi’s appearance at the end is almost an afterthought. It’s Oshino’s final proposal in Koyomi Vamp. It’s Hitagi’s arrival in Suruga Monkey. It’s Shinobu’s emergence from the shadow in Tsubasa Cat. 

The protagonist role Tsubasa inherits from Koyomi is not the ability to solve incidents, it is the ability to help, to be there for someone. Just as Koyomi was able to face her feelings head on in Tsubasa Cat, willing to give up his life for her in Tsubasa Family, just how she was able to be a friend to Koyomi at his lowest point in Kizumonogatari - 

For the first time in a while, the one that Tsubasa Hanekawa tries to take care of is herself. 

And that's all for now. This arc is great. Gonna have to hurry up a bit if I want to finish this before the new season comes out . . .