#comes out of hiding to reclaim his fortune

[oifaaa]

Please rant about Alfred to me

I'm sorry but I can't I've already been too negative about him I need a cool off period so people don't think I'm just a grumpy bastard which I am but others don't need to know that besides now I'm turning over this street kid Bruce au (not ft. Alfred) and its driving me insane with all the possibilities

[lost-walmartbag]

Stan x reader S2 pt 1

Song: I'd have to think about it - Leith Ross

Warning: Swearing

Background: After Stan leaves, you move on with your life.

Status: Ongoing

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'Sarah'

After Stan left, you found yourself struggling. Bereft of support, you felt alone, except for Kyle, who was going through a similar ordeal. Kyle became your lifeline, aiding you in mending your shattered state of mind. However, true healing remained elusive. The initial week was horrible, but with Kyle faithfully by your side, the burden grew lighter.

That respite was short-lived, though. A month later, Stan stumbled upon a golden opportunity, his song was featured in a popular television show. Suddenly, his face seemed to haunt every corner, and it was utterly agonizing. Yet, Kyle did his utmost to divert your attention and alleviate your pain. However, as another month passed, you got sick and were confined to the bathroom each morning. When you confided in Kyle, he promptly arrived at your house, bearing medicine, sprite, and three pregnancy tests.

"Why? There's no way I'm…" you began, looking up at him while pulling out the tests.

"I mean, it wouldn't hurt to check, right?" he nervously replied, punctuating his statement with a hesitant laugh.

And so, there you stood, side by side with Kyle, staring down at three positive pregnancy tests. You were at a loss, uncertain about what to do. A desperate urge to call Stan and have him by your side overwhelmed you, but that wish would forever remain unfulfilled. Kyle became your unwavering support throughout this tumultuous journey.

Night after night, you wrestled with the desire to reach out to Stan, yet you couldn't muster the strength. Then, one day, while Kyle was at your house, he received a message from Kenny. As Kyle watched the video he had been sent, his face contorted with disbelief.

"Hey, what is it?" you asked, turning to him, curiosity tinged with humor.

"N-nothing," he stammered, attempting to hide his emotions.

"Come on, don't be weird. What is it?" you persisted, laughing and playfully punching his shoulder, seizing the phone from his trembling hand.

Though he tried to reclaim the device, you managed to play the video before he could intervene. It featured an interview with Stan, his bleached hair grown out, a lip piercing adorning his face, and a few tattoos etched onto his skin.

"So, you're still quite young, but can you see yourself settling down in the future?" the interviewer inquired, eliciting laughter from Stan.

"God, no. I don't think I'll ever reach a point where I'd want kids," he replied, chuckling, an answer that shattered your heart.

Tears streamed down your face, and Kyle did his best to console you. Taking his phone back from your hands, he held you close. From that moment onward, you tried to bury your feelings for Stan. As his career soared, propelling him to greater fame and journeys across the globe, you remained in South Park, completing your final year of high school.

Fortunately, you managed to graduate before any visible signs of pregnancy emerged. Upon entering college, you and Kyle ended up attending the same university. Sharing an apartment, you faced the daunting task of balancing school and parenthood. Kyle dedicated himself to supporting you, ensuring you could fulfill your educational aspirations while raising your child. It wasn't easy, and guilt gnawed at you for relying on him so heavily. Nevertheless, he staunchly refused to let you bear the burden alone.

"Kyle, you don't have to wake up with her. You have a class tomorrow," you groaned, reclaiming Sarah from his arms.

"I know, but you barely came back from your class. You know I'm better at soothing her," he responded gently, his fingers tenderly caressing Sarah's slumbering head.

"Am I making the right choices?" you questioned, placing Sarah back into her crib. "Should I have called Stan? I mean, the guy's rich now."

"Look, I won't tell you what to do. I can't tell you anything to make you feel better or worse, but I can tell you one thing… you're doing great," he assured you, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder, a heartfelt smile gracing his lips.

"I feel like I'm failing her," you whispered, your gaze fixed upon Sarah.

"My mom once told me that sometimes you never feel like you're doing enough, but I genuinely believe you're doing great," he said, planting a tender kiss atop your head.

In the span of a few years, you achieved your degree in liberal arts. Sarah blossomed into a four-year-old now a spinning image of Stan, and Kyle remained steadfast by your side throughout it all. He witnessed every milestone, not only in Sarah's life but also in yours. Now, adorned in your cap and gown, clutching Sarah tightly, you stood radiant beneath the sun's warm glow. Her vivid blue eyes sparkled, and her black hair was adorned with bows that Kyle had lovingly placed.

"Come on, let me take a picture!" Kyle exclaimed, seizing your phone and stepping back.

"Fine, but only one," you agreed, a smile gracing your face.

Kyle snapped the photo, capturing the triumphant moment of your greatest achievements shared with Kyle and Sarah. Later that day, as you sat down and gazed at the picture Kyle had taken, a sense of profound happiness overwhelmed you. Without a second thought, you shared the snapshot on your Instagram, before peacefully retiring for the night.

Stan however was in the studio listening to his new song. He spun in his chair completely uninterested. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through Instagram much to his manager's dismay.

"Come on Marsh you gotta focus." He said with a groan.

"It sounds fine what else do you want me to d...." Stan started before stumbling upon your post. You looked amazing like you did the day he had left but his eyes stayed on the little girl in your arms.

A/N: Hope you guys liked it. Yes, I did change the whole plot of season two so I'm so sorry if you preferred the other version over this. I just feel this is better for me creatively and I hope you stay to read. As always I love you all thanks for reading. 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

WIP Wednesday

Wasn’t planning on do this, but got inspired by @kayjaydee17‘s amazing teaser, I hope that’s okay.

Warnings for blood, injury, fire, sensory overstimulation, and very brief references to noncon and ableism.

Here's a recipe:

Take a girl. Make her part Na'vi, part Avatar, part demon, part miracle, part future Tsakarem, part future warrior. Make her the daughter of three mothers--one living, one dead, one beyond such categories--and a soldier father at war with a hungry ghost.

Shift her one step to the left, so that she sees the world the way no one else quite can. Give her a brain that haunts her with seizures and strangeness, give her a planet face alien invasion, giving a strange hunger curling in her bones that she can't explain.

Take her home in the woods and send her to a strange land, where the pounding sea keeps her awake every night and the word freak haunts her steps like a shadow. Take her friend, and give him back broken. Take her brother, and give her a corpse. Take her mother and give her a woman bleeding from wounds old and new, struggling not crumble under them all.

Add a bunch of bruising hands, snap cuffs, hungry eyes as she kneels on a deck with her sister at her side. Leave her with enough innocence to only sense how much worse it could have been, how lucky she was, enough knowledge that suspect that others (Monkey Boy) weren't so fortunate.

Stir her up with terror and blood and fear, the weight of pleas on her tongue and in her ears. Send her running through a dying ship with her family and the screams of tearing metal ringing through her skull, grinding her to dust.

Bring past the boiling point, high enough to burn.

Take a deep breath and wait.

They kept Tuk from falling into the darker bowels of the ship, but the access hatch sliced Mom's ribs open. Not as deep as it could be (Kiri can see a flash of someone else's memory, her brother heaving for air on a dull red rock) but deep enough to leave her panting on the tilting deck of the ship, heaving for air.

"Fuck," Spider rasps, hands pressed next to Kiri's against Mom's damp skin. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Blood drips from his own chest, mixing with Mom's cut, and honestly there's probably some kind of metaphor or whatever there, like a song, but right now Kiri's head is too full of screaming to contemplate it.

Besides them, Tuk whimpers. She's curled up in a ball next to them, hands pressed over her ears, and Kiri feels so desperate to do the same it hurts. She wants to curl uptight, wants to rock herself into oblivion as she loses herself in her own head, her own body, reclaiming each fragment of them as her own.

Mom coaks, eyelids fluttering. "Go," she grits out, hand joining Spider's and Kiri's to press against her stomach. "Come back for me."

"We’re not going anywhere," Kiri shoots back. Her tongue is numb with smoke and her head is buzzing with heat and she has never felt as lost as she has today; her voice comes out a smoke-cracked, desperate growl, impossible to recognize.

Everything's loud, everything so loud, fire screaming and crackling until she's terrified of having another seizure. Her hands shake and she wants to press them to her ears, but she'll get blood on them, sinking down the canals and burning up her brain.

Her wrists hurt, aching with the memory of cold cuffs and cold railings, and her throat is worse, a faint sting from the blood crusted on her neck. Not like Mom's or even Spider's, but the knife had been so cold cutting her skin, and the voice curling in her ear had been colder still. 

Hold still, little lady, the demon purred in her ear, voice like rotten honey dripping down her back, and she couldn't breathe. She still can't breathe.

She feels Tuk's fear along with her own, jittering over Kiri's skin. She can pick up on the terror Mom's trying so hard to hide, the grief and pain and sick creeping strands of resignation in that heart which has always been so strong. Kiri's sickeningly grateful she can't feel Spider's mind, too.

She thinks about what Tuk said when they first came to this place: I want to go home. Kiri wants that too, especially now; wants the quiet of the woods wrapping around her like a heavy blanket, the familiar sights and sounds keeping her sane. She wants to go back to the forest as it was before the Sky People came, when it was just her and the people she loved, when being different felt like a blessing instead of a burden growing heavier every day.

"Leave me," Mom insists. Kiri just shakes her head wildly, tears tracking down her face.

Mom's wrong, she is, but there's still no way she's swimming off this ship with her wound. They need something to hold her, they need herbs for her wound before it bleeds out, they need it to be yesterday or two years ago before everything started hurting so much.

"Great Mother," Tuk sobs, little voice shaking. "Great Mother, help us, please, please..."

Please, Kiri joins in silently. She grits her teeth and pushes her mind into the chaos, the endless spiraling noise, struggling to stay grounded as her head throbs and her hands shake. Great Mother, someone, anyone. Help us.

Around her, she can feel the terror of ocean creatures fleeing from the fire, the pain of those caught up and burning. She can feel the flash of Metkayina warriors still battling in the distance, taking revenge for all the terror and grief the Sky People have inflicted on them.

Somewhere she can catch Dad and Quaritch battling, fragments of hate like nothing she's ever known. She thinks she's feeling echoes of Lo'ak and Tsireya, the deep slow consciousness of Payakan, but it's impossible to pin any of them down.

Deeper than all that is Eywa's heartbeat shuddering through her bones, a wild, almost frantic beat, or maybe that's just her imagination. Maybe she really is crazy, maybe there's nothing, but Kiri can't believe that, she can't, or she'll break completely.

Help us, she insists, her mind balancing on the line between ragged need and iron will. Show me the way out.

[kuwdora]

Obedience Training Iorveth/Roche ~1000w warnings for torture, animal abuse, body disfigurement Inspired by @witch-and-her-witcher 's Bald Mountain fic where Eredin asks Iorveth to join the Red Riders and @akilah12902 and @sassaffrassa 's black dog where Roche is a hound of the Wild hunt...I just had to put this one out into the universe. Feel free to pick it up and run with it! Eredin assigns Iorveth a special project.

As Iorveth was about to depart on a mission, he was abruptly summoned by the commander of the Red Riders to meet him at the kennels.

He found Eredin conferring with the kennel master, Saevel, when he arrived. Saevel gave Iorveth a sidelong glance, not bothering to hide his displeasure. Iorveth had been serving Eredin for nearly six years now, and yet in all those victories he’d brought Eredin and his people, he still experienced the prejudices of the Aen Elle with minor and major slights that he’d learned to take in stride.

Saevel shook his head and stepped away, disappearing between the rows of cages.

“I have a project for you,” Eredin said, beckoning Iorveth to follow, and together they followed in Saevel’s footsteps.

“More important than the mission you just pulled me off?” Iorveth asked.

“For now, yes. We find ourselves with an interesting problem. One that could use a different approach,” Eredin said, and there was a hint of thoughtfulness in his voice.

“What kind of problem?” Iorveth asked.

“We have finally captured a hound has been missing for 20 years,” Eredin said.

So that’s why they were in the kennels, but Iorveth didn’t know what that had to do with him.

“Fortunate that you were able to reclaim the beast,” Iorveth said instead. They were well trained, if not brutally so, but they had delivered results that had kept Iorveth and his Aen Elle riders alive more times than he could count. He’d come to rely on and trust as much as he trusted his own skills with the bow.

“Indeed,” Eredin said and gestured at Saevel who was standing in front of the cage they were approaching.

“Wake up,” Saevel sneered at the cage, shoving a large rod between the steel bars. He thumbed a button on the rod, releasing a sharp bolt of lightning. The resulting howl of agony was blood-curdling.

Iorveth pursed his lips. Eredin was watching him with avid interest.

Inside the cage was a black hound, its fur was matted with blood and mud, like it had spent a week in a thunderstorm. A chunk of its left ear was missing, and it trembled from Saevel’s shock. It breathed heavily, holding its gaze steady at Iorveth, saliva dripping raggedly from its maw.

“This hound has spent time in your world, and has picked up—shall we say—too many bad habits. I need you to break him of these habits,” Eredin said coolly.

Iorveth frowned, looking at the animal and then he turned to Eredin. He had made a concerted effort not to question Eredin’s requests over the years, despite his personal misgivings that he had from time to time. Iorveth was doing his duty, participating in this service to the Aen Elle in order to bridge relations between them and his people. Secure strategic relationships for the next asinine d’hoine war tried to decimate the rest of his people. His people would have would have a strong ally to call upon. But there was a strange humor tugging at the corner of Eredin’s mouth that suggested he was waiting for Iorveth to push back.

“I’m not a trainer, surely Saevel would be better suited for this task,” Iorveth said.

Eredin’s smile was sharp and amused. “Ordinarily, yes, but Saevel’s methods have yielded no demonstrable results. This beast was contaminated by dh’oine for too many years.”

Saevel’s lip curled and he shook his head. “I have not given up. If I were given more time I could—”

“You’ve had six months. It’s time for Iorveth to do what you cannot,” Eredin said and Saevel’s eyes burned righteous indignation.

Iorveth looked back at the wretched beast, trying to isolate the pity he would feel for the animal. He needed to do what Eredin requested.

“I can see your uncertainty,” Eredin said, noticing Iorveth’s hesitation. “My confidence in you is not misplaced.” Eredin paused for a beat and looked at Saevel. “Show him.”

Saevel pressed a button near the hilt of his rod and slid it between the bars again. The rod didn’t release a bolt of lighting, but Iorveth could feel the release of magic because his ears popped suddenly in a change of pressure. The hound growled and stumbled to his feet and launched himself at the cage.

He’d never trained a creature like this, and he would have his work cut out for him. Iorveth forced himself to take a step forward, to show Eredin his commitment. He stared down the growling creature.

“No,” the hound said, and repeated word like a snarl.

The hound pushed himself away from the bars and began pacing the cage, repeating no, his body began to change: his spine and limbs elongated, and the fur began retreating across his skin. He was turning into a man.

The man was emaciated, still caked with blood and mud, every knob of his spine showing and was on his hands and knees, facing away from Iorveth.

Iorveth’s eye roamed the expanse of skin, taking in the purpling bruises and open wounds that oozed with infection. On the right shoulder an entire piece of skin had been peeled away, its edges ragged, leaving a hideous knot of tissue behind.

Elsewhere Iorveth assessed the other welts, some raised, some more chunks of skin that looked like they’d been carved out. Iorveth wasn’t sure what he was going to do with a half-dead hound that was also a—

Iorveth’s gaze froze on the left shoulder of the man’s body. He stepped closer to the cage, curling his fingers around the bars, needing a closer look. It couldn’t be.

He strained to see in the dim light, trying to see past the mud and blood, at the scar tissue that covered a tattoo. Of a one-eyed fox.

The constellation of welts and burns suddenly made sense, the array of tattoos. The Temerian crest that had been forcibly removed.

Fuck, Iorveth thought to himself, holding his breath. Vernon Roche.

The bloody dh'oine wasn't a dh'oine after all, but this revelation was secondary to the immediate horror he faced.

“I need you to train him, and ensure his loyalty to us once again,” Eredin said.

Vernon sat on his haunches, and looked over at his shoulder, meeting Iorveth’s eye once again. The tumultuous anger and panic in his face was unlike anything Iorveth had ever seen in him.

Iorveth swallowed, keeping his reeling mind to himself. He felt hot under Eredin’s gaze. He didn’t know how much the commander of the Red Riders knew, but he couldn’t allow Eredin to question his loyalty for a second.

“When can I start?”

also on ao3

[sullina]

There's an au concept @demonprincezeldris had that I wanna explore but without the tc x Mel shipping but... what if Meliodas lost his memories? Specifically what if Merlin hit him too hard and caused enough blunt force trauma for Meliodas to forget everything except someone apologizing and calling him Captain. An au where he wa legitimately a bartender who knew nothing of the Sins or being one himself until a oddly familiar girl came along looking for them and they both go looking for the Sins and discover Meliodas is a sin along the way. It ends to so many questions when Elizabeth recognizes the tattoo that Hawk was always insistent on Mel hiding because, well, what did happen 10 years ago!? Why doesn't Meliodas remember? Who was fbe mysterious figure who attacked him? Did he really kill the Grandmaster!? For Elizabeth it doesn't seem possible, this sweet, kindhearted bartender who likes to joke around with his piggy and makes terrible food doesn't seem like a murderer. Their journey together becomes this huge thing where Meliodas tries to regain his memories and reclaim his past while Elizabeth helps as best she can because this kid is probably her only hope of saving her family and the kingdom

I can totally see Meliodas being super confused when Alioni and the other knights suddenly knock on his door, demanding that the Rust Knight come out.

"Hand over the Rust Knight who is suspected of being one of the Seven Deadly Sins!"

Mel: Ah fuck, there's trouble. What do we do?

Hawk, looking at the armor parts that Elizabeth was wearing: I have an idea

This leads to Twigo coming and throwing Mel, Eli and Hawk off the cliff. They still fall, but fortunately no one gets hurt, and they make their way back up, with Meliodas being weirdly fast.

They survive the fight with Twigo thanks to Meliodas' reflexes. He's absolutely terrified and when he throws Twigos own attack back at him, he's the most surprised out of anyone because he didn't even know he could do that!

The first little 'hurdle' is Vanya, where the water was sealed off by a holy knight. In canon, Meliodas is the one who pulled that sword out, but they haven't found any other Sin yet, so Mel, Eli and Hawk don't know that Mel is capable of pulling it out yet, because, to everyones knowledge, he's just a simple bartender. Even if he has a sword, that's mostly for intimidation!

I do wonder how they would get out of that one.

[the-widow-sisters]

Me again! Loved the last nebula and gamora story and I’m here for another lol

How about this prompt: “Be still. It’s going to sting, so be ready.”

Thanks for all your amazing content!!

A/N: Thank you so, so much for this amazing request! I'm super glad to hear that you enjoyed the last Nebula and Gamora fic!

I'm sorry this took so long for me to write! I've been terribly busy and unmotivated lately, but I did my best to conjure enough gumption to throw this one out there for you 😂💖 I will always love these two, and they are very special to me 💗

I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you for your amazing suggestion 🥰

Word Count: 2.2k+

TW: References to torture

   “Why is it that every single time you come here you have to charge in and threaten one of the others?”

   “It makes things a little more interesting,” Nebula declared resolutely, a certain note of smugness in her tone as she stood rigidly nearby and waited for Gamora to get out the supplies.

   Gamora did not grace that with a response, simply sighing in reply as she continued gathering supplies to tend to Nebula’s injuries.

   In her typical fashion, Nebula dropped in unexpectedly on the Guardian’s ship. After they had gotten over Nebula threatening Rocket within an inch of his life, Gamora had been able to slow down and actually realize that Nebula had come to her with injuries.

   She had said that her primary reasoning for returning was to reclaim her spare parts for mods and upgrades, but Gamora had seen the way that she was favoring one side and seemed somehow even less comfortable than she usually was. Unfortunately, unlike her bones, flesh wounds were not so easily snapped back into place and brought back to functionality as her bones were.

   She had not told Gamora that she wanted her to tend to the wounds, but Gamora was able to infer it easily enough simply from the fact that Nebula came with the scratches, scrapes, and thin gashes unbandaged.

   Nebula was not one to leave such things uncovered for all to see, despite how tough and uncaring about anything that she liked to try to present herself. The mere fact that they were exposed screamed to Gamora that she wanted an excuse to come to Gamora and that she wanted Gamora to take care of them.

   “Where’s the candy?” Nebula suddenly questioned, her voice as unbothered as she could manage, and Gamora easily understood that Nebula was secretly wanting more after the bit that she had before.

   “You mean after you ate it all on one of your last visits? Groot was so upset that he started hiding it,” Gamora answered her, barely flashing a glance in her direction.

   Nebula huffed simply, not a single bit of humor in her face despite the fact that Gamora could sense her amusement.

   “Guess some have to learn the hard way about hiding things that are important to you,” Nebula stated, and Gamora felt the prickling of guilt barbing at her from her younger sister’s words.

   “And some will never have to learn that lesson if it’s in my power to stop it,” Gamora retorted. Nebula did not say anything, but Gamora could feel the words brewing within Nebula as she held back the statement that Gamora could almost hear right now.

   Gamora came over to Nebula, placing the supplies on the counter not too far from her as she looked at the other woman. Nebula remained still, stiffening slightly as she looked at Gamora carefully.

   Gamora pointed to the stool next to them, her eyes locked calmly on Nebula’s own dark ones.

   “Sit,” Gamora commanded, and Nebula hesitated stubbornly before finally complying.

   Gamora resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the subtle attempt at defiance. Nebula was always trying to somehow convey that Gamora was not and would never be the boss of her.

   Gamora doused a cotton ball in alcohol as she glanced at Nebula’s injuries, mentally evaluating how bad that she perceived them to be. They did not seem too terribly deep fortunately, and she found a bit of relief flooding her system despite the slight tenseness within her at the unfamiliarity of the situation.

   Gamora stepped closer to her, holding out her hand as she met eyes with the younger of the two.

   “Be still. It’s going to sting, so be ready,” Gamora warned.

   “You know as well as I that I’m no stranger to pain,” Nebula simply replied, her voice quiet. Gamora offered a soft sigh through her nose, turning her attentions back to the task at hand as she allowed the cotton ball soaked in alcohol to touch a wound on the area joining her neck and shoulder.

   Nebula remained completely still, and if it had not have been for the slightest sharpness in her exhale, Gamora would have thought that the injury was on an area where Nebula’s pain receptors had been neutralized.

   With the confirmation that it was indeed not on a numb spot, Gamora worked quickly and as gently as she could. Of course, she was also working fast largely because she was not entirely at ease with the current situation. She did her best to control her every movement and make sure that she was not crossing some sort of an unspoken line, and she tried diligently to remain as calm as possible despite the fact that uncertainty was rushing through her.

   “Your heartrate is accelerated,” Nebula acknowledged in a low mutter.

   Gamora took in a soft breath, attempting to keep her heartrate at a normal pace. She did not want Nebula to know how uncertain she was about all of this mostly because she was worried that Nebula would never let her tend to her wounds again if the younger woman sensed her trepidation.

   “I am trying to focus,” Gamora told her quietly, her eyes shifting momentarily to meet Nebula’s. Nebula did not say anything, looking straight ahead as she clenched her jaw.

   Gamora straightened after she finished the exposed injuries on Nebula’s shoulder and neck where her shirt exposed her skin.

   “Anywhere else?” Gamora asked.

   Nebula was silent, and Gamora instantly knew that there was another spot. Gamora had suspected that there had been another because of the way that Nebula had been leaned to one side just barely when she came in.

   However, with that being said, Gamora did not say anything, allowing Nebula to move at her own pace.

   Slowly, her sister lifted her shirt to expose the deeper gash on her side that had been shoddily stitched in a hurry.

   Gamora inhaled somewhat sharply, and Nebula’s eyes glinted as they shifted in Gamora’s direction. Gamora clenched her jaw and remained quiet as she stepped just a bit closer, starting to reach out for Nebula’s shirt. She moved slowly, not saying anything as she glanced at Nebula in a silent request. Nebula did not say anything, simply staring at the hand that was getting closer to her.

   Gamora took a chance, and she gently examined the stitches as she studied it. It was not quite as terribly stitched as she had originally thought, but it still needed a few more to pull the wound more closely together and it definitely needed a bandage.

   So Gamora proceeded to fully tend to the place on her side. And only after she had finished, did she actually say something to Nebula and address her negligence.

   “Why didn’t you take care of this?” Gamora asked, her eyes sharply watching Nebula as she awaited her response. Nebula barely glanced in her direction, examining Gamora’s handiwork.

   “I stitched it,” Nebula smoothly answered.

   “Not well,” Gamora challenged, and Nebula’s lip curled up just a little as she looked at Gamora for just a moment longer than she had before.

   “I didn’t have time. I fought some of Father’s army earlier and this was the first place I stopped,” Nebula stated, her voice as detached as ever as she pulled her shirt back down and over the now-bandaged area. She stood up, straightening, and Gamora shook her head.

   “Why didn’t you take care of it before? You were on your ship, and getting your spare parts back was not that urgent,” Gamora persisted, and Nebula just scoffed.

   Gamora could sense the irritated defensiveness in her younger sister, but she had already sunk herself into this one, so she was not about to back down. She understood Nebula wanting Gamora herself to tend to the wounds, but she did not understand Nebula’s negligence to a wound that could have been infected if not properly tended to. It was insane to be this reckless, and Nebula had been taught better.

   “The parts are urgent. I told you a long time ago to bring me back my things that the fox stole— which no one ever brought back— so I am overdue for repairs thanks to you,” Nebula barbed, straightening to her full height as she looked down slightly at Gamora.

   Looking up at her, Gamora resisted the urge to take the bait. Nebula could be terribly frustrating at times, but she did her best to keep patience. Gamora gritted her teeth and replied.

   “Please, that’s no excuse. You wanted to come. And you would do so at the expense of yourself even though it was a stupid move,” Gamora informed her plainly. Gamora instantly saw Nebula’s eyes flash with anger. Gamora steeled herself, readying for a confrontation of some sort.

   However, to her shock, Nebula suddenly clenched her jaw and looked the other way. Gamora just watched her carefully, not entirely sure whether she should let her guard down or not. Nebula was known to be explosive at best, so Gamora always remained ready when they were in these sorts of tense moments.

   “I came,” Nebula stated simply, not elaborating, but the emotion behind the two simple words themselves told Gamora everything she needed to know.

   Gamora swallowed, mustering her strength as she hesitantly reached out to place her hand softly on Nebula’s shoulder. Nebula instantly flinched, turning her head to look at the hand resting against her.

   To Gamora’s surprise, she did not move away.

   Gamora took in a soft breath.

   “I’m glad you decided to come,” Gamora stated, her eyes searching for Nebula’s and hoping to meet them, and the unspoken words between them were practically screamed.

   I’m glad you decided to come to me.

   Nebula did not say a word, but Gamora felt her loosen a bit underneath her hand. Gamora softly squeezed Nebula’s shoulder, her thumb gently rubbing circles as she stood next to her younger sister. Nebula still was not looking at her, and Gamora felt a sudden protectiveness wash over her as she looked at her younger sister standing there in front of her.

   Despite the fact that she was taller than Gamora, she somehow seemed small in that moment. She was the little sister despite her actual size and skill, and there was a childlike quality to her as she stood before Gamora and allowed the affection that Gamora was offering.

   Gamora swallowed, feeling the urge to hug her but holding back for the moment as she gazed at her.

   “Just… promise you will be more careful from now on. I care about what happens to you,” Gamora carefully phrased her words.

   She wanted to tell Nebula she was worried about her without actually using those words. In this sort of moment, it was hard to tell how Nebula would react to things, and she did not want to use words that could indicate that she thought Nebula could not handle herself. That would simply set her off, and Gamora wanted to keep from angering her since she was being so uncharacteristically controlled about all of this.

   Nebula finally looked at her, those inky black eyes staring into Gamora’s own. Gamora held her gaze patiently, remaining quiet as she stared into it. She could not help but think of the first time she had looked into those eyes.

   It was a time long ago. Thanos had decided that since Nebula could never see Gamora’s moves coming, she needed improved eyesight, which was how she earned the blackened gaze she had now. It was nightmarish when it happened, but it had slowly become a part of Nebula, and yet another part that Gamora did her best not to consider too deeply for the sake of her own sanity.

   Nebula blinked, exhaling as some muscle in her jaw tightened with the clenching of her teeth. She raised her head just a little, looking down at Gamora as she straightened just a little.

   “I make no promises. But… I will do my best,” Nebula told her, the words barely a breath as she answered the older sister. Gamora looked at her for a moment longer before nodding. She hesitantly brought her other hand up to touch Nebula’s other shoulder, and Nebula remained stock still.

   Gamora offered her one brief glance before moving in carefully and hugging her, bringing her down just a little to more closely match her level. Nebula was stiff, but she was not as terribly stiff as she had been when Gamora had first hugged her a while back. Nebula scarcely breathed, and Gamora felt a relief overcoming her as Nebula’s hands tentatively made their way to her back to touch her softly. There was less hesitation this time and Nebula seemed to be slightly more prepared to handle it now.

   Gamora let her head rest against Nebula’s shoulder, standing there and aiming on holding her for as long as Nebula would let her. She was careful not to hug her too tightly because she did not want to hurt the injury on Nebula’s side.

   However, if it was hurting Nebula, she did not seem to show any signs of it. In fact, she just leaned slightly harder into Gamora.

   She would always be her sister, and Gamora would always be there to patch her up.

[pixeljade]

Of course if Bethesda hired ME, i could write them the greatest Fallout game of all time, set in the midwest (around Ohio/Detroit area), an area known as the Cornwastes, about 40 years after FO4. The region has been, since the Great War, basically unliveable due to deadly radioactive tornadoes, but those have begun to die down, and settlers from the East have begun to reclaim the region. Your only character story is that youve come along on a caravan, and you get to choose if thats because you're seeking a fortune on the new frontier, running away from a past, etc. The main story would actually change based on what you choose at the start, with a secondary villain based on that choice.

There would be a faction of ghouls who survived the deadly weather in the region, who claim it as their own land that smoothskins are taking from them. Many of them have taken to violence to control it, calling themselves the Ghoul Liberation Fronf. There's also a group of sapient mirelurks to the north, by the great lakes, who live in a tribal, agrarian society, which seems almost idyllic...but not very fond of outsiders. Of course the settlers have their factions as well; a group of Synths who would like not only to settle down in a place thats bigger than their previous hiding holdouts, but also hope to find a new technology to shape their future. There's a merchant guild from around D.C. wastes which has plots to establish a trading path with the west coast, but who seem to be exploiting their workers. Then there's the raiders, who have finally begun updating their playbook after success at Nuka-world and The Pitt. Now they have something close to organized crime, and they're working directly with the laborers moving into the area.

There's also of course a burgeoning government...a confederation of different regions across the east coast, who have allied with the leaders from the Cornwastes, with little more than power plays keeping it intact. Each region has their own laws, and their own military, but must allow free travel and commerce amongst the citizenry. This results in a lot of friction between the sectors, with military from each sector often exploiting other sectors citizens near the borders. The actual confederated government does nothing to stop these scuffles, being led currently by the same man who founded the Merchants Guild, whose only goal is his own enrichment. Overall, the three factions you see out of this government in the Cornwastes are the militarized Commonwealth Army, which is formed of remnants of both the Minutemen and the Brotherhood, and claim to fight for the good of all citizens (an idea which locals find questionable); the secretive and threatening Capital Coalition (Think like G-men, except with power suits backing them); and the Appalachian Militia, who are made up of some of the biggest misfits in their entire region (including several friendly Super Mutants, who have calmed down since FO4 due to new advances in biomedical engineering.)

Each of the three C's of Ohio and Detroit would be accessible. (hey, if FO4 can have most of Massachusetts we can have a bigger map this time!) There's gouges across the landscape caused by the erosion of the extreme weather, though, making transportation largely happen over bridges, which factions control as chokepoints. There will be a dynamic "sector control" system where you can aid factions in taking new bridges and acheiving their goals bit by bit. Once a sector has been taken by a friendly faction, you can build over the entire sector like you do with FO4 settlements. Of course, each of those sectors have various resources worth acquiring as well. There are, of course, some limitations; sometimes a faction wont want to expand into a sector, because they are allied with the faction controlling it, and there are some points which are considered shared ground. Also, sectors arent just gained through combat...you can take sneakier routes, sometimes even just talking a faction out of their claim of a sector.

As for the main storyline, once you get into the region and finish setting up your character, you get caught up in a tense altercation between the government and a group of armed labor workers blocking the path. Just before the Commonwealth Army threaten to "put the workers back in line", the Ghoul Liberation Front attacks both of them. You as the main character are swept away by a mysterious woman from your caravan who hides you with a stealth boy, and hands you a letter and a key, before dying from a wound. The slaughter ends with the leaders of the three factions falling back to regroup, and the letter leads you to a nearby town. Its there that you end up swept into a larger plot: the key has been passed down for generations, kept safe in one of the vaults, and evidently unlocks a deadly pre-war weapon that was being developed in Detroit. You then go on a story which involves the fate of the entire region, weighing the implications of history as well as simple citizen lives. Will the locals remain in power, or will the settlers take control? Will the government stabilize, and if so, who will be in control?

As for gameplay, much of it will be similar to FO4 with the added sector system, but also, you can actually get synth limbs and implants which are moddable as you progress. This adds one more layer to FO4's already robust modding system, as well as playing into the ever-present Fallout theme of 'what is a human anyways?'.

Anyways Bethesda if you wanna hire me i graduated cum laude with a degree in narrative arts back in may, and have a handful of accolades under my belt. I can give ya a resume and a portfolio if you want!

[elvaria-project]

Not Oversimplified Elvaria Lore- Part 3, Modern History(Warring Era- The Ember War)

Peace was never meant to be forever, and dissatisfaction kept the wounds of the minor wars from healing Flaerna still felt that they were given an unfair amount of land and renewed pushes into Walekrina and Floernian territory, but their efforts in Walekria were significantly held back by the mountain borders King Taknychko of Flaerna is assassinated, with his son Leonnox taking the throne and continuing the war effort Floernia was not so fortunate, and their border forest would be burned away as Flaerna advanced Flaerna's Scorching Council would plan a full scale invasion in secret over the span of a month, planning on enacting it within the first day of the coming month

Zodiana would choose to not get involved so long as their borders weren't intruded upon

A few days before the planned invasion date, King Anodir Zhonal of Zodiana was assassinated, and Zodiana, Floernia, and Walekria would pin the blame on Flaerna Flaerna, in anger, scrapped their invasion plan and declared war on the three kingdoms as they knew they could not prove their innocence to the other kingdoms Föllen Alatsa would not publicly declare their opinion and remain neutral to not be involved in a continent spanning war, and neither would Dalirna Walekria, Floernia, and Zodiana would join up into a military alliance and Walekria and Zodiana would send troops to occupy the Floernian borders to buy time for Floernia to build up troops More kings and queens are assassinated within the span of 5 months, with the list being- King Kolthremor Kelthrom of Åskorhal(leaving it under Queen Vethørigya) Thedeos Helithian of the Heartwood Province of Floernia Atathaeia Eurydine Diravacata of the Pinewood Province of Floernia Oranios Zilizane of the Oakwood Province of Floernia Lithinos Agistechea of the Grasslands Province of Floernia

Queen Verinae Galoris of Zodiana(leaving the throne to newly crowned Salgirtus Tulsier Zhonal)

Empress Zhi'mei Hai-yang of Walekria(leaving it under Emperor Yu'guan Qing-Shi) King Leonnox would attempt to reason with the other kingdoms that there was no feasible way for Flaerna to have assassinated so many leaders in under 5 months, but none of the kingdoms participating in the war believed him Walekrian and Zodianan occupation on the Floernia-Flaerna border ends after 6 months to focus on pushing into Flaernan territory, Floernia has enough troops to start a pushback against Flaerna and reclaim lost land Flaerna being surrounded on three sides with enemies and Föllen Alatsa maintaining neutrality, would seek Dalirna to aid them, guaranteeing protection of Dalirna's land should Zodiana launch an invasion on their shared border, and also assuring that all responsibility of Dalirnan losses would fall onto the hands of the Flaernans Dalirna would accept and believed in the innocence of Flaerna regarding the assassinations After the 2,000th year of war, Flaernans were weakened and a third of the army withdrew and defected, with some surrendering to the enemy kingdoms by offering information for their lives and lodging, and some fleeing to the surface of Föllen Alatsa to hide out The remaining forces would be pressured to continue fighting despite casualties reaching into the hundred thousands on all sides The new King Salgirtus of Zodiana feared that if the war did not end soon, the kingdoms would collapse, and so he travelled to Yūregina in secret, coming across a being(no not a demon I don't have those in Elvaria) along the Violet Rift Islands that offered him the power to end a war in exchange for his remaining lifespan and soul He would agree in desperation, gaining a strange mockery of a crown that sprouted from his head in a ring of bony tendrils and bony wings that could not fly but acted as blades These would mark his pact with the being, and he would return to Elorinar to continue the war, using illusion magic to hide the crown and wings While Floernia, Dalirna, and Flaerna failed to notice his absence, Walekria was more perceptive and viewed it as him doubting his own skill due to his youth, and would thus withdraw from the war, believing he was too young and inexperienced to lead the war and rule his kingdom He would lead the Zodianan and Floernian troops on frontlines and aim for the heart of Flaerna, assigning a separate front to force Dalirna to withdraw from the war from their own heavy casualties, would be successful He would make three more demands to end the war over the years but all three failed, leading to Salgirtus leaving behind forces at towns surrounding Embylviska and journeying alone to sacrifice himself to end the war He would call upon the power of the pact and unleashed a storm of caustic ash and bony blades that caused mass casualties among the Flaernans but avoided the other kingdoms, but the pitch black clouds tinged with red thunder spanned the whole of Elorinar This view would mark the end of this war that would come to be known as the Ember War, with Leonnox surrendering when he came to terms with the futility of the war This war would last for 2,500 years in total, leaving a great many dead or injured and many more living in the shadow of the legacy this war would leave behind -----------------------------------

So besides the war shit is the notes section which is here Yukiosa was discovered around the start of the war via Zodianan expeditions north, but they refused to join the war

Lustarise was discovered by a Föllen Alatsan right around the time Leonnox attempted to convince the other kingdom rulers that Flaerna didn't do the assassinations, but Lustarise didn't want to be known by the rest of the world and forced the Föllen Alatsan into a vow of silence When Floernia was building up troops, Nyaelis was established as a sub-kingdom by the Nynphor, where they offered troops in exchange for some sovereignty Speaking of Lustarise and Föllen Alatsa shit, Lustarise went through a whole ass war of their own during the Minor Wars era, called the War of Shattered Ruby where the Geintori half elves fought to gain some sort of sovereignty of their own. Even up to the Ember War, Lustarise and Geintora(new sub-kingdom) were dealing with how they'd officially divide the caves and allot resources for rebuilding and general living Föllen Alatsa had the Maeliron half elves create their own sub-kingdom called Maeliros Oh yeah and the Minor Wars also had some shit happening in the same time over in Yinorael, as a strange plague was inflicted upon the Yūregians that slowly twisted their forms over time to become monstrous, thus trade between them and the Hikarinians was halted with the Hikarinans fearing the spread of the strange disease to themselves Also with the end of the Ember War, missives from Åskorhal and Jivankova are sent to ask wtf happened, since the storm over Elorinar also covered the Gyvorkal Mountains and was visible from Kavathanar, so yeah they're "discovered" To previous lore post with the other links in it-

[aerialsquid]

FFXIVWrite: Day 9

Day 9: Yawn

(Warning for discussion of drugs, including consensual drug use by a minor.)

----

The Scions were a lot smaller when they'd moved from the Waking Sands to the Rising Stones, and cleaning out the back rooms turned out to be a group affair. Alphinaud had been hiding from his sister's taunts over how many crates of unsold wind-up Alphinauds they still had left over from the Crystal Braves fundraising drives when he'd dipped into a box marked for Urianger and came out with…an item.

"Oh. It's…it must be some kind of artifact, yes?" Urianger heard the young man say in a faint and quavering voice. "A memento. From some old mission?"

He turned and saw Alphinaud holding, with the care and nervousness one might used to hold a deadly viper, a beautifully decorated hookah. The base, bowl, and stem were covered in beautiful silver filigree with stars and moons, an ironic indicator of Urianger's later attire but purchased long before he had the courage to dress his own body like that. All his glint and flare had stayed locked up on his room, like his own body hidden away behind robes and goggles…a lifetime ago.

"A memento of mine youth, perhaps."

"Ah! You used it for…uh, experiments, perhaps." Alphinaud looked on the verge of having some form of minor stroke. Urianger carefully reclaimed the hookah from him before he dropped it or simply passed out.

"Tis a water pipe, my friend. Known colloquially as a shisha or a hookah. But I would guess from thine paled countenance thou art aware of it by reputation."

"I…Father had rather definitive opinions on smoking pipeweed."

Urianger cheerfully patted the brass and leather contraption in his arms. "Fortunately, this hookah's primary consumable was qunubu."

"What?"

"Ah, thou might know it better as void parsley?"

"I know what qunubu is!" Alphinaud screeched, very quietly. "I just–you? You actually inhaled it?"

"Oh, frequently. Or ingested food made with its oils, though I admit to preferring the effects of the vapors." Speaking of vapors, poor Master Levaillur the Younger seemed to be having them. He sank down onto a nearby crate of old bedclothes, staring at the floor in a fugue. 

"I take it thine father also held 'definitive opinions' on qunubu use? Unsurprising, at such close proximity to the Studium he likely had concerns that his children might join the students' revels should they not hold a fear of them."

"Mm." Alphinaud made a small, tight nod. The embarrassment was visible in his reddened ear-tips. "He said it was a poison that rotted the mind, and that the weak-willed would become slaves to its infuence."

"Ha! Quite to the contrary - its addictive nature is far diminished from that of alcohol or other substances, and its benefits far reaching. At the Studium we often used it to diminish the effects of academic anxiety, to brighten a somber mood, or to simply manage a restful night when sleep would not come easily to us."

"Uh?"

"As thou might not be aware, there art two main variants of qunubu, the astral strain and the umbral strain. While the astral variant generally produces a sedative effect, the umbral variant is cultivated out from a kin to the wild fogweed of Dravania and–"

Alphinaud, still reeling from the revelation that his dearest friends and some of the most brilliant minds he knew had regularly indulged in the use of A Drug, was helpless to resist Urianger's extended lecture on the nature, varieties, usage, and history of void parsley. The experience had left him a combination of terrified and extremely bored, a state that left him even more vulnerable to the mockery of his sister when she and Yshtola finally came to check on them. 

"It's not that I didn't know, I just…I'd never met anyone before who used it, is all," Alphinaud mumbled, huddling into himself.

"Yes, you did," Alisae chirped.

"What? When?"

The way she smiled made Urianger most grateful he was an only child. He would not have survived the constant trials of the ego that siblings put upon each other.

"Do you remember that one evening I snuck out to the post-exam party with those older Studium girls I was friends with? The ones I wanted so badly to impress."

"Yes, I remember you threatened to stab me if I told Father, immediately passed out as soon as you got home, and then you caught a cold from staying out so late in the night air." Alphinaud froze, the haughtiness dropping from his voice. "...oh gods. It wasn't a cold, was it?"

"Nope." She was beaming so wide Urianger fancied he could see fangs. "They were passing around a pétard, one of those little rolled up paper things, and I didn't want to seem like a coward. Spent the next hour trying to cough my throat lining up and then they walked me home. It burned like hells going down, too."

"If thou finds it any comfort," Urianger put in, "A water pipe is oft designed to mitigate such pain and thou wouldst find the toke much smoother as a result." He patted the hookah fondly. "As I ponder upon it, such an occasion as this might be one in which to bring my former tool back into operation. The Studium's terrors pale in comparison to that which we have endured this past year…and our Scion brethren deserve a moment's peace."

[iviarellereads]

The Great Hunt, Chapter 15 - Kinslayer

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one!)

(Heron-marked sword icon) In which that's probably the first scar of many to come.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand gets dizzy if he looks at the landscape too much, but it's better than holding the void to avoid getting dizzy. They cross a number of burned areas, lines running east to west, some only a few hundred paces wide and some as much as a mile. There's no char left, but nothing green has reclaimed the burned stripes. There are no insects in the burned areas or otherwise, nor animals, though the unburned areas have grass on the ground and leaves on the trees. The only sign of life is something in the distance leaving behind a wispy line of cloud.(2) Fortunately, the water is drinkable, though Rand insists on being the one to drink first and have the others wait in case he’s poisoned before refilling their water bottles.(3)

After they've ridden half the morning, Loial stops, gets off his horse, and approaches a tree. He tries singing to it, the way he would in their own world, and Rand finds the song almost familiar in a distant way. Eventually, he works a quarterstaff out of the wood, without harming a single branch. Rand didn't think Ogier carried weapons and Loial says they usually don't, but this place feels too dangerous not to. More disturbingly, Loial says the tree felt glad to be made into a weapon. Rand says it's as well they don't intend to stay, and Hurin barks a laugh at this, repeating the phrase every so often as they ride on.(4)

Eventually, Hurin falls silent. It's not that he loses the trail, but sometimes it's like there are dozens of trails overlapping all at once, and he gets caught up in them.(5) When they left the hollow that morning, he could have sworn there were hundreds of bodies killed under his feet, just moments before, despite all evidence to the contrary. He never loses the right trail, but he's getting anxious, and he feels more like he’s remembering the trail than smelling it himself.

They make camp that evening, and Rand keeps the fire small, thinking that Fain and his Darkfriends might see it. Then he thinks how odd it is that he's thinking of them as Fain's Darkfriends and Fain's Trollocs. Fain is just a madman... but then why did they rescue him? Fain was part of the search for Rand... but why is he running, now? And what killed that Myrddraal? What happened in the room full of flies? And that wind, catching him like a beetle in pine sap? But no, Baa has to be dead... even though Moiraine and the Amyrlin refused to believe it.

Rand is trying to shake the thoughts from his mind when he hears a whisper, "It’s never over, al’Thor." He considers seeking the void to escape the voice repeating itself in his mind, but thinks the better of it. He practices many sword stances to get his mind off things, but it all comes back to him when he finishes.

He takes the first watch, and when the others are asleep, he takes out Thom's flute, plays the first few notes of a song as softly as he can, but even the sound of the flute is too loud, too real in this place. He lets the others sleep much later than just his fair share of the watching, until he realizes a fog has descended and Baa appears. Rand is confused, but says the father of lies is well named, if he hasn't done anything yet it's because he can't.

Baa turns his attention to Rand's companions.

“You find odd followers,” Ba’alzamon mused. “You always did. These two. The girl who tries to watch over you. A poor guardian and weak, Kinslayer. If she had a lifetime to grow, she would never grow strong enough for you to hide behind.”(6) Girl? Who? Moiraine is surely not a girl. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Father of Lies. You lie, and lie, and even when you tell the truth, you twist it to a lie.”

But, Baa knows that some of the Aes Sedai know who he is, some of his followers are Aes Sedai. He knows that Rand seeks the Horn. He shows Rand his face, a man's face, horribly burned, but healing. He taunts Rand with immortality, with power, shelter from the madness of the taint. All he needs to do is serve. But Rand refuses, again.

Those dark eyes became fire again, and that mouth, flame that blossomed and grew until it seemed brighter than a summer sun. Grew, and suddenly Rand’s sword glowed as if just drawn from the forge. He cried out as the hilt burned his hands, screamed and dropped the sword. And the fog caught fire, fire that leaped, fire that burned everything. Yelling, Rand beat at his clothes as they smoked and charred and fell in ashes, beat with hands that blackened and shriveled as naked flesh cracked and peeled away in the flames. He screamed. Pain beat at the void inside him, and he tried to crawl deeper into the emptiness. The glow was there, the tainted light just out of sight. Half mad, no longer caring what it was, he reached for saidin, tried to wrap it around him, tried to hide in it from the burning and the pain. As suddenly as the fire began, it was gone. Rand stared wonderingly at his hand sticking out of the red sleeve of his coat. There was not so much as a singe on the wool. I imagined it all. Frantically, he looked around. Ba’alzamon was gone. Hurin shifted in his sleep; the sniffer and Loial were still only two mounds sticking up out of the low fog. I did imagine it. Before relief had a chance to grow, pain stabbed his right hand, and he turned it up to look. There across the palm was branded a heron. The heron from the hilt of his sword, angry and red, as neatly done as though drawn with an artist’s skill. Fumbling a kerchief from his coat pocket, he wrapped it around his hand. The hand throbbed, now. The void would help with that—he was aware of pain in the void, but he did not feel it—but he put the thought out of his head. Twice now, unknowing—and once on purpose; he could not forget that—he had tried to channel the One Power while he was in the void. It was with that that Ba’alzamon wanted to tempt him. It was that that Moiraine and the Amyrlin Seat wanted him to do. He would not.

=====

(1) If you recall, Elan Morin once said that Lews Therin would be known as Kinslayer, for his actions just preceding the EotW prologue… (2) I wonder if RJ had a proposed mechanism for this damage, if he had in his notes the sort of weapon that would cause it. Even nuclear disasters don't resist regrowth like that. It's also not clear if the wispy contrail clouds are parallel or perpendicular to the char lines unless I missed something. (3) I'm sure Rand believes this comes across as him taking responsibility for the welfare of the others. There is, however, another reading: someone outside his head could interpret this as him being selfish and quenching his own thirst first and making the others suffer until he feels better or something. Absolutely not saying that's what's happening here, but no I will not let go of the "question EVERYTHING" of it all. Also, water bottles, not water skins? Yet another sign this is an odd time period. What sort of bottle would be portable like that, in a world without plastics? (4) Hurin seems a fairly plain sort of man, you know? He's got a special talent which means he probably has a bit of an odd career, but he likes things to feel straightforward. In something as surreal, downright unreal as a parallel universe, I can just imagine how psychologically stressful it must be for him. (5) Perhaps those places run closer to other nearby parallel universes, so there's more overlapping scents because those spots are literally overlapping more worlds where something similar is happening. (6) I'm leaving the Ba'alzamon references in the text because otherwise I'd be switching between Ishamael or Ishy in my words and Ba'alzamon in the quotes, but we know how he can be here, even if it's not a dream, even in the parallel world: because he's NOT the Dark One, the singular nonhuman force of evil incarnate. This? This is just a man, driven mad by being half conscious on the edge of the seals for three thousand years and change. (7) So, he really DID see Egwene in that dream, somehow.

[roselightfairy]

New series alert!

@deheerkonijn and I have had a series of headcanons for some time that always returns to us as we move into the chillier months, specifically relating to how those colder months tend to be in Mirkwood! Headcanon highlights include: indulgent feasting in the autumn harvest, lean spookiness in the long nights of winter, hungry hibernation-emergence in spring - and impacts in every season on Legolas and Gimli’s sex life. We have three seasons written and shared in a series, and because two of them just went up this weekend, we are taking the opportunity to share them all here!

the hunter’s heart, the hunter’s mouth by Roselightfairy

This is the hungry season – the season when the days lengthen at last and the animals venture forth from terrorized hiding places to begin reclaiming their rightful home. The season when the evil things that haunt the wood lose the near-unchecked freedom of the long winter nights, when the elves can at last slacken their patrols and their wariness, when they dare again to venture forth and hunt, and sing, and feast –

The time of the Enemy is ended at last, but Legolas still knows this season in his blood. The sun is setting, the snow is melting, and he is alive and free – and hungry.

frost faces westward; ochre in the east by DeHeerKonijn

The air was thick with pectin, and the kitchen staff (that they wove between in search of wine and cheese) were so focused on their work of cleaning and coring and blanching that Gimli himself was nearly bustled indiscriminately into the assembly line.

Legolas had laughed - laughed with his amber eyes from his Silvan mother - and tossed him a peach.

“Careful,” he said. “Empty hands are put to use around here.”

And so they are, and so Gimli’s were that night, and every night after. Not just with work - though Gimli was happy to help where he could - and not just with hobbit-plentiful meals, hot and simple and heavy.

There is a particular way about Legolas in autumn, after all.

your arms a winter windbreak by Roselightfairy

“Well?” says Gimli playfully, and arches his back against the bed. His body is a feast, spilled out over the bedcovers, the sort of glorious arrangement only an enchantment could conjure up. For a moment, Legolas wonders if he is waiting to be fished out of the border river – for even still, there are days he cannot believe his fortune. But no dream has ever felt so real as this. “Will you not come to join me?”

It feels wrong to do so – more dangerous than forbidden, as though he dare not take his attention away from those shuttered windows lest the shadow-foes conjured by his memory stretch their tentacles inside to seize him – but how can he refuse? The long nights of winter are not a danger any longer; his mind can remember it even if his heart cannot, and his husband lies waiting for him, and how can Legolas resist?

[universallywriting]

I know you don’t think the show can be predicted. But I think it might be fun to try any way. Why do you think Felix have his ring (amok?) to Gabriel? He had to give Gabriel the yo-yo to set up the next season. But why would Felix do it. And how does it benefit the plot?

Well, first of all, I don't work from the position that Adrien and Felix are sentimonsters. Like, I think it's a cool theory, and I think it's totally possible, but when I think about the show I don't think "Okay, so those two are DEFINITELY sentimonsters" because I don't think it's been proven, and I honestly think it's pretty confining to future speculation to just assume that it's true and work from there.

Though, again, it's a cool theory and I hold no hate for it or anyone who feels like it's true or proven. It's not as fun for me to feel that way, but everyone has their own way of enjoying fandom and that's great!

I think the much more important and interesting issue is Adrien's family history, which is consistently left very much in the dark despite how crucial it is to the entire plot of the show.

Please feel free to correct me on lore if I'm wrong, but as best i can gather: We know that Master Fu had all the miraculouses 172 years ago, and then lost the peacock and the butterfly. So we have a 172 year gap in which those miraculouses were off doing... something.

Whatever these two miraculouses were during during this 172 year gap, it was so low profile as to be untraceable. Until Emilie's corpsewife status occurred, Fu had no idea where those were and he was definitely on the lookout.

EDIT: We also know Gabe picked some magic shit up in a shop, so, like, it's possible that these little trinkets were just lying in a bigass pit for 171 years lol

We have absolutely no idea where the Graham de Vanily fortune came from. We do know, however, that Felix has a lot of knowledge about the family history and a desperation to reclaim items that he feels Gabriel has unfairly stolen from the Vanily family. He also seems to know a lot about miraculouses. Like, a lot a lot? To the point that he was pretty instantly able to figure out everything Gabe was trying to hide.

If I was going to guess, I think we're going to get massive plot reveals involving the Vanily family and the history of the butterfly and peacock.

EDIT 2: "Both of these miraculouses would have been possible to use very subtly in order to amass fortune and status in a nearly 200 year gap." I don't even feel like this is true. Like, I'm just rambling but I think Emilie and Gabe found it together? So maybe Gabe built his company off this shit? Or maybe Emilie tried to make a puppy and immediately dropped dead idk.

So, like... how did their family come to have this stuff? How did the peacock miraculous break? They're not exactly delicate pieces. Why did Emilie feel the need to use it after it had broken, despite the risks? What exactly is her weirdass corpsewife status and her suspended animation cryotube?

You know, a lot of this could be revealed to be part of the sentimonster theory, but a lot of this could also just be... I mean, like, anything? The possibilities are really broad, and I feel like people are limiting themselves in theorycrafting by starting with the idea that Adrien and Felix must be sentimonsters.

Maybe the twins are sentimonsters. Maybe sentimonsters are used in secret and have been for generations. Maybe the butterfly miraculous was used behind the scenes to trade off superpowers, allowing people to supernaturally succeed in all kinds of different ways. Maybe they even consider themselves guardians of these two miraculouses, and are desperate to be in possession to continue to protect them from people like Gabe.

I think there's a lot of really cool options, but if I had to place my money on anything, I think that the incoming season is going to give us some big pieces of backstory for Adrien's family that's going to explain what started all of this mess in the first place. How the peacock broke, and why Emilie used it after it broke. Those are the two big mysteries I expect to be answered by Felix's actions.

[fandomtookoverlife]

Working Tease

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Summary: reader and hotch have a spicy weekend, they like to remind each other and remember their fun times while on a case. 

Note: while the summary makes it sounds like there’s smut there really isn’t 

Warning: swearing, light sexual content, lightly implied dom sub relationship  

Word count: 3k 

Category: ummmm… fluff? A little smuttiness 

A/N: I hope this is good and you like it. I just got this idea in my head and couldn’t shake it so I decided to write it. This is the first time I’ve written anything like this so go easy and I really hope you like it 

I definitely got a little softer than I meant to in the middle but I like it so. 

I swear I swear I swear spiral part 2 next 

(My other blog: @mac99martin )

Masterlist 

---

Oh dear god, it was Monday morning, ugh, Mondays, and the team had just come back from a rare weekend with no case. It was the best weekend, Jack was at a sleepover for the weekend so you and Aaron decided you would have a sleepover too. Much like Jack’s you didn’t do much sleeping, though for very different reasons. You had come into work achy, sore and bruised from all the handmarks and hickeys across your body. As you said, it was a fun weekend, but it came with repercussions. Those being, you hurt, everywhere. And of course, you were called in for a case. You walked into the conference room; you were the first there so you stood at the table and grabbed a file, that’s when Aaron came up behind you. You jumped, not expecting anyone to touch you, but you settled into his touch, his hands around your waist. His touch alone relaxed you, your muscles immediately loosening and feeling better. “Hey” he whispered into your ear nibbling on it as he spoke. He turned you around to face him. And you place your hand on his chest. Feeling his hard muscles through his tight fitted dress shirt. His hands move down to your ass, the simple touch sends shivers from your sensitive bottom throughout your body as memories play through your head of how you got the bruises to begin with. You slowly felt his hand cup your ass, “Aaron-” He squeezed, you took a sharp inhale and whimpered burying your head in his chest, gathering the fabric of his shirt in your hands.

 “Oh I’m sorry baby, did that hurt?” you whined at his words, he took one hand off your ass and tilted your chin up so that you were looking at him, a sad pouting look on your face, he kissed the top of your head. “Your adorable” pulling you back into his chest and moving his hand back down, using both hands to caress your ass, sending shock waves through your body as his hands continued to dance across your sensitive skin. His touch ignites all the nerves in you, your body heating up, yet still, you nuzzle your head further into Aaron’s chest, seeking comfort, a release, as your grip tightens on his shirt, and very intently making sure not a single sound leaves you. To both of your disappointment, you heard footsteps coming down the hall, he gives you a quick kiss before reclaiming his professional nature and moving a respectable distance away from you. He easily regained his composure, you're always so jealous of how he can just snap right back into work mode, you quickly turned around hiding whatever completely unprofessional expression you had on your face, though you did catch a slight smirk on Aaron’s face, asshole. 

---

You had done the briefing, squirming in your seat the whole time, Aaron had announced wheels up so you packed your bag and drove to the airstrip, again sitting uncomfortably, until finally, you made it to the jet, where you got to sit for even longer, well isn’t this perfect, the weekend wasn’t worth the torcher of the next few days-yes it was-whatever. You and Aaron were at the back of the plane, files open on your laps in front of you, everyone was nose deep in files and facing away from you. Aaron casually slips his arm from his file up your back and rests it on your shoulder. You don’t acknowledge his movement until he puts pressure on your shoulder, coaxing you towards him, at first you resist, but he’s a very persistent man so after checking the rest of the team isn’t looking you shift your weight to lean towards him. You hear movement so you lean further towards him, playing at looking at his file. When Aaron is satisfied that no one is looking he moves his hand from your shoulder to your collar, pulling it to reveal your neck, your hickey cover neck to be specific. You turn your head, looking back at his hand, moving up to his eyes. His eyes are warning with a bit of smugness behind them, he uses his knuckle returning your eyes back to the file while he goes on to reveal more of your neck. Once he is satisfied with the amount of skin he has, he places his hand on your waist. Fortunately, as you are on the aisle seat, your body is blocking most of Aaron, but you both consistently glance up, just in case. He takes a moment, admiring the delicate marks across your delicate neck, leaning in he runs his nose along your neck, before placing light chaste kisses up and down until finding a rather large hickey taking residence on your pulse point. He starts placing an open-mouthed kiss on it, running his tongue along it, you restrain yourself, closing your eyes and revelling in the feeling of his touch, as well as the shivers that run through your body. He continues his act of affection, unable to pry himself away from you, loving the way your body reacts to his and the way your neck looks with his mouth on it. His movements get smaller until lips move up to your jaw, placing a final beside your chin. You turn back to him, a find smile on both your faces, you lean in placing a soft kiss on his lips before turning back to your file, his hand still wrapped around your waste

--

You were all in a conference room, it wasn’t anything special, honestly, it was the opposite, you had all been in a lot of police stations before, always setting up in any free room with a table, and they always sucked, stuffy, dull rooms, but most of the time they at least had windows. This one didn’t have a single window, not even one on the door. The fluorescent lights were horrible and one of them had even been flickering. It was like what? 9 pm, you don’t even know anymore, you had done all the running around for today, theorized and profiled your minds away and now had little else you could do today. You had basically been sitting in silence for over 30 minutes now, after running out of things to say you had all silently agreed that no one had anything more to add but weren’t ready to give up, resulting in a tension-filled room, the only sounds being of rusting papers and creaky furniture. 

God you were ready to fall asleep right here on the table, just turn your brain off and die-you had just been staring at the same page for what feels like forever trying to read the same lines over and over until eventually, you gave up and have now, for at least the last five minutes you’ve literally just been staring, the words morphing into thick blurry lines, your eyes now focusing on the white of the page more than the ink while your brain slowly drifts away. 

Your mom would call this lala land whenever you zoned out as a kid, and really she still does any time you zone out around her. You always hated it when she snapped you back into reality; you like being in lala land, it's peaceful, your brain is empty, there are no thoughts, some peace and quiet, an escape from your own mind, which is normally a very busy place. It's kinda like your swaying to the music, except you can't hear the music, you're just floating in blissful nothingness. 

At this point you're so lost in your own mind you don't even hear the door opening nor the extra person who has come in. Though, you do notice the file you've been blankly staring at has now been taken out of your hands. Your hands have stayed in the same position, as if they still had a file in them, your eyes try and subtly scan your surroundings for it, turning your head to find Aaron with it. Your hands clenched into fists and you bring your arms back to your body, “Uhm” your mind cannot even form words right now and it is *extremely* annoying, it feels so empty like a whiteboard that has just been wiped clean, literally all you can come up with is, “what?” 

“JJ just came back with food.”

“Oh, right.” -you didn't know JJ went to get food 

You turn your attention back to the group, going to help clean up papers and hand out food but Aaron’s eyes stayed on you. 

-

When food was handed out you sat back down and Aaron sat down next to you, pulling his chair over to be closer to you, his hand going to rest on your thigh, you glance down and then look into his eyes, a little smile making its way onto your face. Your sweet smile forcing a small one on to the corners of his own lips. He shifts his posture further towards you and you mirror it, “are you alright?” 

“Of course”

His eyes narrowed slightly, “you seemed… out of it, earlier”

A wholesome feeling bloomed through your body, though you kept your physical reaction minimal, “ya, I was.” Aarons face stayed in its negative state, you moved your hand down to your thigh, placing your hand on top of his and lacing your fingers through, “don't worry, I’m back.” relief, and even a slight smile washed across Aaron’s face, he moved his hand from under yours and moved you closer to him finally settling down resting his hand on your back.

You spent the next 45 minutes eating and when you were done Aaron deemed the day was over and that you’ll start fresh in the morning. 

You all cleaned up, packed up and drove back to the hotel, all the while Aaron somehow managed to stay physically connected to you at all times. Honestly, it was kinda impressive. 

You were in your room for all of 1 minute before knocking on Aaron’s expecting door. You both quickly got ready and slipped into the comfort of the hotel bed, it wasn’t the same as your’s -or Aaron’s- but it did just fine, especially with Aaron’s warm body right next to you. You moved closer, intertwining your legs with his and laying your head on his chest. Aaron adjusted, you lifted your head slightly, letting him move freely, he took the opportunity to move your hair out from under your head and throw it behind you, he pulled your head back down to his chest. His hand kept in your hair, going back and forth from messaging your scalp and running his fingers through it, softly detangling it as he went. He loves your hair, always touching it, playing with it, and running his hands through it, while he loves all of those things, occasionally, this weekend, for example, he likes pulling it. And although you too thoroughly enjoyed the hair pulling, this was really nice too. You fell asleep to the soft sounds of his breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the light brushing of your hair.

--

Aaron spent the weekend marking you, so he had no shortage of sensitive places to touch you, and on cases, all he ever wanted to do was touch you.

-

This case has been such a pain in the ass, staring at the crime board in front of you. The answer is right in front of you. Just see it, it has to be here, what aren't you seeing!?

Turns out it was in front of you, the necklace the third victim was found dead with was the same one that one of the suspects from the beginning of the case was wearing when you interviewed her. 

The arrest was thankfully cut and dry; the team and the local cops ambushed her house, and while they did have the unfortunate timing of her being in the kitchen, with lots of knives, you got lucky and she didn't protest. 

Much to the entire team’s disappointment, the plane wasn’t going ready for hours, which meant that you all still have half a day to kill before you can even think about going home. So here you were, back in the conference room, again. You cannot begin to articulate how much you hate this room. You would give anything to leave it, but the team decided to start the paperwork so here you are doing the (second) worst part of the job in the worst room you've ever been in. Now, are you being over-dramatic in your personification and feelings for a room: maybe, but you don't care, you're tired and you really just want to go home, so it is what it is. 

No, but seriously, you are so bored, the combination of this room and this case is just not it. Now, this is really terrible to say, which is why you would never say it out loud, and you definitely shouldn't be thinking it in the first place. People are dead, and that really bad- that being said this case was so boring. Again, sounds bad but you're just having such a hard time concentrating, room+paper+sleep deprivation+this specific case, concentration is just not coming to you. Ok, you studied psychology, you know why you are thinking about and caring about your little problems over actual death, the brain and whatnot, but that doesn’t help stop you from feeling bad. And on top of everything else previously stated: is this internal monologue really helping you focus? Absolutely not, but here we are.  

-

Although it’s less than two hours later, it feels like an eternity. Over-dramatic again, yes, but even from halfway across the country, you can still hear your bed calling your name. That being said you're pretty proud of yourself, you've actually gotten some work done, weird right, but give yourself some credit, you've done well in this time. That is until you feel Aaron subtly place his hand on your shoulder. You notice it but you don't give it much attention, focusing on your next sentence, and even when he pulls your collar and you feel his hand on your bare skin, feather-light touches skimming across your shoulder, circling the slightly faded bruises and marks to the mostly faded bite mark. You give in, relaxing into his touch, taking a minute to stop focusing on the world and simply drift into calmness. The simple touch giving you a small reminder of his love and affection, willing you to continue, to make it through until you get home. Aaron takes his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, his hand lightly brushing jawline. Just like that, the moment has passed, both of you getting back to work.

but now with the smallest amount of extra motivation.

Aaron’s hand stays on your shoulder. 

--

As if you all hadn't waited long enough to go home already something happened with something and everyone was sitting on the plane for an extra hour before take-off. You guess you just didn’t wake up with much patience this morning because you quickly got bored of every app on your phone, out of severe boredom you somehow ended up on photos - and there you are, the last photos in your camera roll happen to be the ones you took on Saturday before Aaron got home from dropping Jack off. You had decided that you wanted to do something a little more special so you put on this very nice new set, it was a black two-piece, the bottoms were covered in lace, high waisted and cheeky. The bra was almost completely lace and see-through, the only solid parts being the boning that also happened to accent your chest perfectly, needless to say, he loved it. But of course, you, staying on brand, got impatient, you were alone in the house and he wasn’t going to be back for 15 minutes. Naturally, you found yourself in front of a mirror admiring how you look, when you picked up your phone. That's what you find yourself staring at now, looking just as good as you remember when taking them. 

-

When you were finally up in the air you had decided to play chess with Reid, you usually didn’t win but it was fun anyway, you had also carefully chosen the single set of seats near the back, a seat that you could perfectly see Aaron from who was seated on the outside seat, facing you near the front. When Reid asked why you're sitting here to play as opposed to your usual seat you shrugged it off saying no particular reason, that was far from the truth but he definitely didn’t know that.

You were halfway into the game and Aaron had been working for a while, that's when you pressed send. You put your attention to the game, Aaron looked at his phone and looked up at you but you didn't look at him until he had opened the message, catching his reaction was everything you wanted it to be. 

You tried not to smile at how he was trying to control his reaction but your ego definitely went up. His body didn’t move, posture staying tense and rigid but his eyes met yours. His eyes were angry and powerful but his pupils were dilated. You put a sweet smile on your face, feigning innocents, but winking at him before turning your attention back to the chessboard, leaving him to his own accords, having to deal with himself until he can get home. 

You couldn't help but smile knowing precisely what you did to him and when you saw your phone you had to bite back the much bigger smirk threatening your lips. 

“Your place when we land. You better drive really fucking fast” 

If he could tease you, why couldn't you tease him?

---

Tag list:

@spencers-renaissance @averyhotchner @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

Tagging:

@girl-of-many-fandoms

Lmk to be added! 

[demons-fanatic]

Luca: Fish out of Water

Hi guys, this is going to go over the literal entire movie so if you haven't seen the movie... Don't go below!

This post will be a full film analysis of Pixar's new movie, Luca and how it is clearly a Queer Allegory more than anything else.

Disclaimer: This entire post uses Queer in a reclaimed sense, especially in a sense for the entire community. If you do not like that, sorry.

So... Fish People. Luca is a 2021 Film by Pixar and distributed by Disney on Disney+. Unsurprisingly, I did not watch Luca legally and do not ever plan to, I will never give money to a homophobic tyrant such as Disney... Ever. But, I do love this Movie.

So, first things first... Does this Movie really have that much Queer subtext? Yes, it does. It really does and I think it'd be impossible to deny it. According to the Director, the intention was not to be a strictly LGBT reading, as it is just a film about people who are different. Which is true, that's exactly what this movie is about. But with certain key events and even phrases, I find it so hard for the intent not being Queer people specifically.

TL;DR Plot:

The Plot of Luca surrounds the titular Character and his friend, Alberto as they manage to explore the Surface World. Luca and Alberto are Fish People who are also able to transform into Humans once they dry off on Land. This is called "The Change" and it's unclear why this happens.

The Movie starts with Luca going to the surface and meeting Alberto, a fellow Fish Person. They begin to dream about getting a Vespa, or a Motor Scooter. Soon, Luca gets discovered by his Parents for going to the Surface and is almost sent away to the Deep Sea. He leaves and him and Alberto reach Portorossa, a town in the Italian riviera. A town that is very Anti-Fish People.

There, they meet a brattish teenager named Ercole and a younger girl named Giulia. Alberto and Luca learn about a Triathlon event in the town that will net them some money to buy a Vespa.

Giulia introduces the boys to her Father, Massimo; who is very Anti-Fish People.

They boys train and Luca's parents come to search for him. During this time, Alberto during a training session goes awry with the bike and ends up crashing into the Sea with Luca alongside him. They make it but due to a building upset nature, Alberto reveals himself but to his surprise, Luca acts like he didn't know about Alberto's nature. Leaving Alberto to leave back to his tower.

After feeling bad, Luca visits Alberto to apologize but Alberto is too upset to accept much. Luca proclaims he'll win the race to win the Vespa and the next morning he starts the Triathlon slow but builds up in performance. During this, it starts to rain. At the top of a hill, Alberto calls out to Luca but is forced to reveal himself. Luca overcomes his fear and saves Alberto and wins the race.

Though, their identities are found out, Massimo, who has grown attached to Alberto, is accepting of them and so does the town. This creates a welcoming Fish Person Environment in the town and it's also revealed not everyone who appeared human in the town was either.

Finally, Giulia is forced to go back to School, but it turns out Alberto sold the Vespa to buy a Train Ticket so Luca can go to School as he previously expressed interest in. Massimo also practically adopts Alberto. The boys embrace each other in a very impactful event and don't stop looking at each other until they get far away.

The Allegory...

So, there is a lot of detail I left out in that description but on purpose, of course. In this part I'll be detailing all of the parts that allude to Queer allegory and what it means. Of course, most people can think on their own but this is just here to describe the parts of it that stand out.

Firstly, Fish People are obviously just the LGBT community. I mean, people who have to hide their identity out of fear, especially in a fear of being killed? It's basically staring you in the face. Fish People are able to turn into Humans, which is when LGBT members have to blend in. The two Women at the end are sort of the example of LGBT members who have fully assimilated into normal Society, especially in a Homophobic or Transphobic environment or "Comphet" and being Closeted. I personally can identify with this one. Other characters like the Grandmother can be examples of LGBT people who are comfortable enough they don't feel the need to hide but also understand living is better than dying, but have "fun" with it.

Massimo is definitely an example of the Homophobes or Transphobes who wholly make it their entire personality to hate on Gay People or Transgender People but they're actually exactly like that or one of them. Of course, Massimo isn't a Fish Person but soon after it's shown in the Credits he immediately becomes very accepting especially after having to confront with himself the person he found himself attached to like his own Child, was what he once hated.

Giulia is just an example of an Ally, someone who may not be LGBT but fully supports them. Most people if they hear about how bad something is their entire life will be afraid once first faced with it but she almost immediately becomes accepting after learning Luca is also a Fish Person, trying to protect him.

The Betrayal of Luca to Alberto is a good example of internalized Homophobia and fear of also being found out. As I will describe later, Luca and Alberto are a CLEAR example of a Queer Romantic Relationship. When Alberto reveals himself, Luca found himself in a situation of extreme pressure and anxiety. He just found a life he could be potentially be living and instead of revealing himself as a Fish Person(Queer...) he instead "plays it safe" as he sees it in his mind and acts like he had no idea Alberto was a Fish Person(Queer, again...). It's something that does happen in real life, unfortunately, being outed or having people just like you, reject you, even if they are exactly like you.

The Parents of Luca are representative of Closeted People and the fear that if you out yourself, you can at any point be rejected to the point of even death. It's this fear the perpetually stagnates and personal growth. Of course, in real life there really are situations where you cannot come out for decades in fear of the same thing. And it's not like his(Luca's) parents had a reason not the fear the same.

Ercole, obviously just represents a full homophobe or transphobe. Someone who is unwilling to change and will continue to be homophobic and never question himself even when people near him are accepting. He also represents the power someone who is homophobic may have. Even if the other people who he influences aren't homophobic or transphobic.

This one is a bit rocky, but the Vespa is possible an allegory for the idealized "Vehicle" of escape... If you've seen Adolescence of Utena, it's the exact same thing. However, in this one this Vehicle is achieved but then lost, willingly. It becomes a Vehicle still in the way that it helps Alberto and Luca in their lives, finding their own Paths. It helps them both in the beginning to realize a goal of escape or betterment then near the end kicks off Luca's path and Alberto's.

Lastly, we have Luca and Alberto themselves... Now, as I said before, they are a clear representation of a Queer Relationship, specifically a Gay Relationship. You can interpret it as a Platonic Relationship, but I do it in the romantic Sense. Yes, I am aware the boys never confess ever or do anything very romantic, like kissing or holding hands. But throughout the movie, it's clear, very clear. They start out with Luca become attracted to his ideals and his mission and both of them soon form a Mission where they want to do the Vehicle of escape as I just mentioned. Soon after almost being sent away, Alberto and Luca go to Portorossa together and continue to build their relationship. Alberto and Luca defend each other and obviously care about each other. Soon after, Giulia and Luca grow a closer bond but nothing as close as Luca and Alberto. It's obvious that Alberto really likes Luca. Like, really obvious because this goes on until Alberto crashes him and Luca into the Sea and then the betrayal scene happens. During that scene it's clear that Alberto is extremely hurt, like really hurt. It reminds him that not only is he the "Bad" one in his head, the only person he thought he cared for(or loved) would willing to betray(out) him so that he can assimilate safely into Human(Heterosexual) culture. It definitely makes him feel bad and revert a bit back into a lone wolf mindset. Nearing the end, Alberto comes back nearing the end of the race with an Umbrella to help Luca win. But he ends up being tripped and revealed as a Fish Person. This is definitely just forced outing, it's quite obvious. But then Luca overcomes his fears and basically dreams of a normal life to safe his Friend(or Boyfriend, whichever you want). Luckily for them, due to Massimo seeing how much of a good person Alberto is, instead of attacking the boys, he accepts them as he realizes they're nothing like he thought. On the movies' downside, the town does fortunately accept the boys and all the Fish People. This isn't really realistic in any sense but, it does just explain a theory of mass acceptance if one let goes of their prejudice. The Grandmother in the following scene also explains a perfect Queer-like line:

"Some people will accept him, some never will. But he knows how to find the good ones." (Not an exact quote...)

I think to anyone who is in a marginalized group, specifically LGBT for this case, will relate to this line. It's very basic, but means a lot. It's also a strong reason why I feel like despite everything officially said, with everything else, this IS a Queer intended allegory.

Finally, the end scene at the Train is a good one and explains how Alberto and Luca after finding themselves and growing as people, they find their own way and are happy about it. Alberto and Luca hug, devastated at the fact they have to leave each other, even temporarily. It's sad and very real. Leaving your lover even for the betterment of yourself is extremely heartbreaking and you don't think you can do it at first, especially if you've been through a lot together.

Final Thoughts

So, I know I am not the only one that has seen everything I just said. In fact, the film's popularity right now seems to be exactly because of that. Not to mention the Movie's visuals are fantastic as well as the music.

You don't have to view this as a Queer reading, but I find it almost impossible not to and I, again, am not the only one. You can view it as basically any marginalized group, especially the ones that have to keep their identity hidden. I do think it's great this movie can bring a good allegory and subtext about a possible Gay MLM Relationship even if unintentional. I know Disney would not allow it, but I hope in the planned sequels they do a bit more of subtext. Of course, not to the point of Queerbait. But, we'll see. I think that Pixar has an amazing opportunity to try and slip by the censors... But probably not. It is good, though, that the director openly accepts a Queer Reading, so we're not left in the dark with someone trying to deny all Queerness.

_________

If you read this, thanks! I might update this post with more or edit it to clear things up. If you want to follow me, go ahead. But I just normally do Soulsborne lore posts so you won't find much here. I am not a Pixar or Disney person either, I just did this so I can talk about gay fish.

[sezja]

In Captivity

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Ship: Background Sanson/Guydelot

Note: The WoL mentioned here is @lesenbyan's Eve (Evelynn Blythe on Goblin)

-

He wakes reluctantly, aware at first only of the pounding in his head and the sound of nearby voices, too indistinct to recognize - but Sanson knows which voices he doesn’t hear, and he forces his eyes open. Though his vision swims at first, gradually the unfamiliar shapes and colors refine themselves into something more recognizable: trees, rocks, grass. The Twelveswood. He has returned to the Shroud.

Where…?

“Awake, are you?” He knows that voice. Queasy from more than his injuries, Sanson looks around: this is a rushed campsite, not meant to last more than a night at most, and hidden, with sentries posted at the perimeter. He appears to be the only captive, with two frowning guards standing over him, armed, despite his bound hands and feet. And standing with the guards…

Nourval.

The treacherous snake kneels, regarding Sanson with that all-too-familiar smile: sinister, now that Sanson knows the danger that smile conceals. “You gave us something of a struggle,” Nourval says, smug and self-satisfied. “But here we are. And how are your bonds, Captain? Tight enough?”

“What became of Evelynn?” He remembers now: the Warrior of Light was summoned to a meeting, and Sanson had encouraged her to go. A trap, he now realizes, just as surely as his own summons; a trap meant to lure them away from the safety of the Castrum. But he does not see Eve here… nor Guydelot. Nor does he know what passed after he left the Castrum - perhaps Guydelot, too, was summoned to a similar trap. Or worse.

“The Warrior of Light did precisely as required of her,” Nourval replies, his smile never wavering. “She survived our ambush, of course. I expect that was your concern?”

It was. Sanson breathes easier; he never doubted Eve’s prowess, certainly, but to have it confirmed… “And Guydelot?”

“What of him?”

“Is he unharmed?”

Nourval sighs. “Of course. Alive and well and already back in Gridania, by our last reports. Had we known you entrusted the journal into his keeping…”

He remembers, abruptly, being thoroughly searched after his defeat - at the time, he’d not thought to wonder what it was they were seeking, only the humiliation of defeat and the fear for his comrades. Gylbarde’s journal. Of course - after so long seeking the tome, small wonder if Nourval had hoped to reclaim it. It was fortunate indeed that Sanson had thought to give it to Guydelot before hastening off to aid Eve; he’d thought it best if there was no chance of it falling into enemy hands… perhaps the only stroke of luck in this whole debacle.

That and Guydelot’s safe return to Gridania. But what now?

There is only one answer, Sanson realizes, chilled. “You mean to ransom me for the journal.”

“For the truth.” Nourval settles himself more comfortably on the ground, as though they are two old friends, chatting about something as inconsequential as the weather. “For justice. You read it, yes? You know what they did to Vainchelon: lured him to a private meeting under a flag of truce, then slew him in cold blood.” His eyes narrow. “They cannot be allowed to hide from this. Ala Mhigo cannot be allowed to rise to power with my ancestor’s blood on their hands.”

“What you want isn’t justice,” Sanson says, trying to sound reasonable instead of terrified. “What you want is vengeance, and it will solve nothing. The man who killed Vainchelon is dead-”

“They share the guilt!” Nourval’s hands curl into fists - not in violence, but passion. “They’re all the same - every one of them would have done as Gylbarde did, given the opportunity, and they all must suffer the consequences. Vainchelon fought for Gridania’s freedom.” He leans forward, peering intently into Sanson’s eyes. “You are Gridanian, Sanson, and proud - I know you are! How can you turn from Vainchelon’s legacy? We would be no better than slaves if not for his courage and determination in the face of Ala Mhigan conquest.”

Clearly a different approach is needed. “Justice for Vainchelon is a worthy goal,” he says, carefully. “But surely Ala Mhigo has suffered enough? Through the efforts of the Alliance and the Warriors of Light, they have finally won free from Garlean rule. You would see them plunged once more into war, when-”

“But that is precisely why we must strike now,” Nourval insists. “They will never be weaker than they are now, and if the truth of their crime is laid bare, they’ll shortly lose their allies in the other nations. They can be crushed easily and quickly.” He smiles, patting Sanson’s knee. “Once the commanders at the Adder’s Nest do as I ask and release the journal’s contents in exchange for your safe release.”

Oh, gods. Closing his eyes, Sanson takes a slow, deep breath.

“They won’t.”

“Not until your foolish friend hands the journal over, at any rate.” Nourval’s smile never wavers, though it grows harder at the edges. “As yet, he is refusing to surrender it, but doubtless in time they’ll pry it from his fingers whether he likes it or not. We’ve not yet sent our demands, but perhaps once we do, they’ll handle his idiocy as it deserves.”

Oh, Guydelot. Clinging to the journal in hopes of using it as leverage, no doubt - foolish indeed, but it makes Sanson’s heart ache with affection all the same. It’s a wonder the bard hasn’t come after him of his own accord… but then, he’d need to know where to search, wouldn’t he? And would he even know Sanson had returned to the Twelveswood? No. Sanson himself has no idea how they successfully crossed Baelsar’s Wall unnoticed. Not that Sanson expects that will stop Guydelot forever. The Adders almost certainly won’t stir to save Sanson, but Guydelot… gods, but Guydelot will, one way or another.

Blinking back the sudden stinging in his eyes, Sanson shakes his head. “Nourval, the Order won’t risk war with Ala Mhigo for the sake of one soldier. We’re already on the brink of open war with the Garlean Empire - to keep the truth of Vainchelon’s death hidden, they won’t hesitate to allow my death.” A horrifying reality sets in. “You’ve only doomed us both.”

Nourval’s eyes are flinty. “And when word gets out that the Adders slew us - and one of their own men! - to keep the truth silent, Gridanians will not stand for it. They will demand the journal’s release: to know what we died for. What was meant to be kept buried. Do you suppose all of those loyal to Vainchelon’s memory are here? There are those who know the truth and will see it brought to light - even should that light be shed only by the shedding of our blood.”

“You-” Sanson steadies his voice once more. “You are prepared to be a martyr for this cause. And to make of me a martyr as well.”

“Vainchelon is my ancestor,” Nourval replies, gazing down at his own hands, uncurling his fists. “I will see to it he is avenged, alive or dead. You should be honored: your death will not be in vain. But perhaps you’re wrong.” He stands, brushing himself off. “Perhaps your friend will turn in the journal, and perhaps the Order of the Twin Adder and the Seedseers will see the righteousness of my cause. Don’t give up hope, Captain Sanson; the truth may yet prevail.”

Sanson watches him walk away, sick at heart.

Guydelot… I pray you think of something quickly.

[yandere-daydreams]

Kirishima’s s/o hiding from him bc the smothering is too much

I wanted to take this in so many different directions, but I’d like to think this one came out the best. Kirishima’s just so naturally *overbearing*, any prompt with him should feel as smothering as this one.

TW: Emotional Manipulation and Mild Physical Intimidation.

~

You didn’t mean to be so distant. You really hadn’t meant to be.

It was like hiding in your own home, honestly. Whichever room Kirishima was in, you weren’t. If he wanted to stay in and relax, you’d made plans you couldn’t cancel. Hell, you tried to miss your late-night train once a week, just for an excuse to spend the night anywhere but pressed into his chest, not daring to close your eyes in fear that a stray nightmare could lead to your unceremonious suffocation. You didn’t cheat on him, in your defense, and you never doubted your love for him.

You wanted to be with Kirishima, but you didn’t want to be with him all the time. You thought that it was reasonable, and you did try to explain yourself. At first, anyway.

Now, evacuation seemed like a much less draining tactic. You’d rather spend a fortune on hotel rooms and ‘security cameras’ than have another argument that… emotional.

Still, even with your mastery of aversion, you couldn’t stop yourself from freezing as familiar footsteps approached, going motionless just as your fingertips brushed against the doorknob. You let your arm fall as soon as you could hear the sound of his clothes rubbing against his skin, the small creak of your apartment’s flooring under his weight, the helplessness as ingrained into you as the utter dread, bubbling into your throat in tandem with the excuses. They collided violently, leaving you in cold, bitter silence. One you relied on Kirishima to break.

“Are you going out?” The question was innocent, it was asked innocently, and the guilt hit you like an oncoming freight train. Again, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, letting Kirishima wrap his arms around your waist without complaint, your boyfriend easily slotting himself against your back. “I don’t think you told me, (Y/n). I can get dressed, if you want, Mina knows this great place downtown--”

You went tense as you cut him off, your nails digging into your palms. “I… I’m only going out for a few minutes! I promised I would meet someone at that new coffee shop down the street, it’s nothing important, you don’t have to...” You forced yourself to pause, to calm an ounce of the panic in your words, but your success was debatable, at best. “I should really get going, Ei, I’m already late.”

“Then I’ll come with you!” His hold on you grew more snug, a tooth grin spreading into the crook of your shoulder. Tugging at your hips, he made another attempt to move you towards the bedroom, but you didn’t budge, your heels planting themselves in the hardwood instinctually. You knew he would never hurt you, he’d never make you do something you didn’t want to, but with his strength and size and determination, you couldn’t seem to soothe your nerves. Kirishima only pouted, slumping against your smaller form. “Your friends love me,” He whined, his warm breath sending a chill across your skin. “It’ll be fun! Just give me a heads-up next time and oh, who’s going to be there? You’re always so pretty, I can’t even tell when you’re trying, anymore.”

“No.” It came out involuntarily, slipping from your lips before you could stop it from doing so. Kirishima pulled away instantly, drawing back and letting you turn around, watching as you leaned against the closed door. Refusing felt wrong, bad, but you two had gone out last night and eaten breakfast together that morning and you’d stopped by his agency for a visit and you wanted an hour to yourself, even if all you were going to do was remember how to take a step without his help. 

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, more out of habit than anything. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I was just hoping I could do this alone. You know how I get when I don’t have space.” You forced yourself to laugh, even if the sound was more cracked than joyful, dissolving into the silence as abruptly as it’d been shoved into it. “It won’t take long, I promise. I’ll be back before you can even miss me!”

Kirishima blinked. Once. Twice. “You don’t love me.”

You cringed, already knowing where this would lead. “I never said--”

“You don’t have to be nice about it,” He reassured, putting on a shaky smile and running his fingers through unstyled hair, the gesture as practiced as it was pitiful. “It’s my fault, I should’ve seen this coming. You were always out of my league, I’m still not sure why you put up with me for this long. It’s fine, I can help you pack if you want.” You tried not to fall into it. He was being overdramatic, you were being reasonable, there wasn’t another way to look at it! But, you knew Kirishima well enough to be sure his display was genuine, just like it was the fight before this one and the one before that and every time he did this. 

That might’ve been the worst part. 

He believed his own bullshit.

You opened your mouth, but he went on before you had a chance to speak. “I’m too clingy, I know. I just get so worried when I don’t know where you are… it’s like I can’t think about anything else when you might be in danger. Is that bad?” His shoulders squared, defensively. It took a moment for you to realize he was mirroring your own rigid pose. “I could… fuck, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I’m always trying to do things for you, it must be annoying.”

You managed to grit your teeth, to steel yourself and stay strong, but your resolve wasn’t impenetrable. The moment Kirishima bowed his head, letting overgrown bangs cover his face as a hand came up to wipe at his eyes, you broke. He didn’t have to reach out, this time, your arms were around his neck in a second, willing him to melt into you. It didn’t take much more than that, not really, Kirishima burying his face in your shirt, sniffling and leaning against you, acting more like a kicked puppy than a Hero. But, you pushed the thought out of your mind with a sigh, too quiet for him to hear.

“Don’t say that,” You mumbled, willing yourself to put some emotion behind it. “I’m stressed out, I shouldn’t pin that on you. Why don’t we rent a movie? I could use some cuddling, right now.”

Despite your dryness, he was beaming in the blink of an eye, holding you close and pecking at your lips and smothering you, no evidence of his despair remaining. You went along easily, chucking as you swatted away his affection, but Kirishima caught your wrist easily, pressing your palm against his cheek, leaving his own arms free to reclaim their former territory. The kiss that followed was sweeping, passionate, Kirishima lifting you off the ground and never letting you get more than a hair’s width away, not until he was panting and you were flushed. Even then, he let his forehead rest against yours, not daring to separate, as if he thought you’d shatter as soon as he let go. You kept your eyes closed, but you could feel his happiness, a smile stretching at the corners of his lips. If you hadn’t seen it, you wouldn’t have been able to tell he’d been crying. Like his tears had dried the moment you touched him.

Like they’d never existed at all.