#gian/tiny

[entomolog-t]

The Shadow We Cast - 4

Two guys and too many beers leads to more shenanigans.

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Next Chapter: Chapter 5 (Coming Soon)

Word count: 2998

CW: Adult language, substances (beer/drinking), animal death (fishing/hunting)

It was beyond crazy to me that the most normal I’d ever felt was drinking beers with a weird little man who stood no more than, what, 6 inches tall at most? How many years had it been since the last time I had this much fun? The last time I felt like I could talk and laugh this freely? It just felt so… normal? The thought seemed ridiculous- I mean, the situation was anything but… and yet here I was, thoroughly buzzed and listening intently as if we were old friends.

Sal paraded around the table, reenacting some grand adventure I could only wrap my head around with the help of however many tallboys I’d downed over the past few hours. Tales of hunting monstrous beasts and climbing unfathomable heights. He wove wild stories of a world so foreign yet so familiar… quite literally a world in my backyard.

As I nursed another drink, Sal set the scene, recounting a day-long trek he'd made out to the lake. Mist rose off the water as loons called to one another, their haunting voices echoing off the calm water. He watched intently as they slipped under the water, barely even a ripple disturbing the surface of the lake.

As if he was painting a picture in my mind, I sat enthralled, feeling as if I could feel the crispness of the water washing away the heat of the sun as he spent the day swimming in the shallows. The way he spoke… It didn't feel like I was imagining his retelling from my perspective- but his own. His perspective felt like something … almost fantastical.

"I tried to lure some of the minnows, but I couldn't get close enough to spear them without them darting off.” As if still wielding a spear he eyed the non existent minnows, patiently following some unseen motion as he remained poised to strike. “The bigger minnows seemed slower, but they wouldn't come near shallow enough. I ended up using some of the dried grub rations I'd brought with me as bait, and boy did it work like a charm. I swam I bit farther out with the bait and-"

Spear raised, I could practically see the imaginary impact- watching as the massive fish- or minnow, thrashed against the sharpened twig. I was enthralled- the way his muscles moved with the motion was almost… intimidating, bringing forth thoughts of him human sized, spearing a monster of a fish while swimming in some dangerous Amazonian river. 

“The damn thing was a bitch to swim with,” he groaned, annoyance clear on his face, “For one- it was heavy. But worse,” Sal huffs, “It was still moving.” Despite the exasperation on his face in recounting the ordeal, the man’s face couldn’t help but return to grinning. 

“So then I’m swimming back, right? Honestly more like flailing with the stupid minnow in tow, but I’m keeping above water for the most part… but I keep hearing this clicking… almost squeaking noise? Weirder yet- it's coming from below me.” He pauses, lowering his voice and I’m quite literally reeled in by his story, leaning forward on the edge of my seat. 

“Then- whoosh!” 

Sal grabs at the air. My heart jumps in my chest as the man’s hand lashes out just inches from my face. 

“This monstrous bastard of a creature - absolutely huge,” He pauses, shooting me a cheesy grin, “Second only to you, big man.” I snort and Sal picks right up where he left off, “It was all murky brown with thick these thick… whiskers? And it just sucks me into its mouth with this horrific gulp. Next thing I know I’m being dragged underwater, half in its mouth, pounding on its head just hoping it’ll let me go if I hit it hard enough.”

My breath hitches, a shudder running through me as I make the connection- A catfish. 

“With nothing to lose, I stab it. The spear goes right through its eye and-” Sal pauses, making sure he has my full attention.

“And?”

“Nothing!” Sal laughs as if it was hilarious and not down right horrifying, “That stupid thing didn’t even flinch! I don’t know if it didn’t go deep enough or if I just missed any vital enough part, but it did absolutely nothing!”

He leans forward, no longer laughing as his face takes on a grim expression.

“At this point I start to get worried.”

“Start?!” I scoff. Sal dismisses my interruption with a wave of his hand.

"My lungs are burning, and the thing’s clamped down hard on my stomach. I'm stuck holding that stupid spear for life as it keeps doing this.. this…” He shudders, face twisting in disgust, “-weird gulping thing,” Sal shakes his head as if banishing the memory, “So I ripped that spear out and using everything I had I-” His fist came down, “- drove that spear right back into its head.” 

Sal pantomimed a gruesome show-  stabbing again and again in the world's most horrific display of charades as he brutalised the memory of the catfish. 

“Finally,” He says, voice filled with a mix of relief and exasperation as if he’d just relived the whole ordeal, “it dies.” 

I, stupidly, sigh in relief, as if somehow I couldn't have predicted the outcome with him quite literally standing in front of me.

“My lungs are on fire as I swim to the surface- and man, air never tasted so sweet.” Looking down at Sal, he's beaming, laughing like a kid as he recounts his victory over the massive fish. “And then it hits me- tasted!” 

I furrow my brow, not quite following. Sal continues, frustration returning.

“No spear- and no fucking minnow! As if, after all that, air was gonna be the only thing I’d be tasting!”

After a brief pause I couldn't help but laugh. His smile grew even wider as he raved on, swinging his hands as he continued on about his harrowing ordeal.

“I refused to swim back empty handed after that shitshow- So I spent the whole afternoon dragging that giant bastard back to shore!” 

Fuck. I stare at him, eyes wide. I can’t shake the disbelief as I try to think of what would be the equivalent feat- Dragging an orca back to shore? …Something bigger? I’ve never been an avid fisherman (nor did I have any plans to start) and really had no concept of how big the catfish in the lake got aside from the notion that they were definitely bigger than Sal.

“I get that monster to land- spend about 30 minutes on a fire that just won't start, until I'm finally able to start cooking that beast!” 

He paces along the length of the table, his steps not nearly as sure footed as they had been a few hours prior. Even with his tiny frame I can easily make out the sheer rage simmering behind his eyes.

“And y'know what?” His voice, now starting to slur, is teeming with all the theatrics of a man at his absolute limit. I swallow, desperate to hold back a laugh I know is coming.

“What?”

“That fucking thing tasted awful!” Each word was spat with such ferocity it was as if he was trying to spit out the memory of the creature's taste.

There was no helping it.

With my inhibitions long since drowned, I laugh. I laugh louder than I have in years. I laugh until my sides ache- until tears prick at the edge of my eyes.

And he laughs with me.

“Pond scum! Tha' shtupid thing tasted exactly how pond scum smells!”

My vision blurs, tears threatening to spill over as he continues to rant and rave, but the sound of my laughing completely drowns out whatever critical opinions he was espousing on catfish edibility. 

Wiping at my eyes, my brain takes a few tipsy seconds to focus back on the little man. Still shirtless, Sal had sat back, reclining with his back against one of the many empties as he lifted up what was arguably the equivalent to a very generous pitcher to his mouth with little effort- the relative ease of the action catching me by surprise as I imagined myself fumbling at doing the same. 

He… he was built. 

Quite literally a brick shithouse, if said shithouse belonged to Barbie.  

Broad seemed like a fitting word. Broad chested, broad shoulders, broad smile- Hell, even his legs had a width to them. Sal looked as if he had stepped directly out of an instagram fitness post, with his … excessive biceps flexing under the weight of the shot glass, the act a paradoxical effortless display of effort. Even at his diminutive size, I could tell this man was anything but small. He-

He coughs.

My eyes dart away from his body in an instant, snapping back to his face… accompanied with heat rising in my own. As my eyes meet his, I’m again struck with the absolute absurdity of the situation.

I'm here… getting drunk… with a tiny man… He’s right there- arms reach in front of me… 

And yet he still doesn't seem real.

My hand twitches at my side.

Touch him.

As my hand slides towards him, his gaze quickly flicks from my face to my hand and back to my face again. Confusion flashing across his features for a brief moment before his lopsided grin reappears. My finger tips barely graze him as he sidesteps my hand, shoving my fingers away. 

Huh. There's a surprising amount of weight behind his push. 

“Hands t'yourself, Big Guy.” Sal laughs, “You gotta take me to dinner first.”

It takes a moment for my brain to follow his words, and I snort. 

“Is that not what I did?” 

Sal blinks.

His own brain seeming to lag as realization dawns on him. After a moment's delay, he laughs. 

Sal takes an unsteady step forward, the sway in his weight more noticeable than before. He’s still smiling, but a look of concern crosses his features as he stares at the ground in front of him.

“I feel weird.” 

“You’re drunk.”

He looks back up towards me and I point to the drink. After a moment', Sal nods, seemingly cluing in. Maybe? I really couldn’t tell.  For all I know, that nod might have been him nodding off with how stunted the gesture had looked. 

“It…” He starts his sentence and seems to forget it half way through, taking a long blink in between words “... makes you dizzy?” 

I lean forward to rest my head on the table, starting to feel all too alike. 

“Mmm- yeah, when you’ve had a bit much.” 

With that, I slid the shot glass away from him- An act which was apparently the most egregious party foul ever to have been committed. Shouts of protest erupt beneath me, as he trails after the glass. 

With a laugh, I try to shoo him away, but man, the little guy can move. Despite the sway to his stride, Sal ducks my hand with ease.

“Dude,” I laugh, opting to pick up the glass, “You.. uh, you’ve had 'nough- you're gonna get sick.”

My words feel thick, almost sticky, in my mouth, and the thought crosses my mind that I should probably be taking my own advice.

“'m fine.” 

I snort. The man didn't even know what beer was all of two hours ago, and here he was thinking he knew his limits.

“'s if you’d know,” I chuckle. “You're stumblin' 'round.”

Sal narrows his eyes.

“I am not!”

“Oh really?” My words slur together, thick with condescension and alcohol as a smile down at him. I shove a finger to his chest, I give a little push. Sal shoots glare as he staggers back.

“See?” I chuckle, “You're totally shtumbling!” 

Eyes wide, he stares up at me, brain seeming to short-circuit for a moment before a goofy grin plasters itself across his face. I feel my own face mirror his expression as we break out into drunken laughter. 

The laughter hit me hard. 

I laughed at Sal's near cartoonish drunkenness.

I laughed at how he stumbled with a push from a finger.

I laughed at the strangeness- the reality shattering strangeness- of his very existence.

This... this is really strange...

As our collective laughter died down I took in a deep inhale. I needed to know more. I couldn’t keep up the half assed charade of normalcy. 

“Sal-”

In the brief moment I’d let my guard down, the tiny man quite literally pounces. I yank my hand away a fraction of a second before he lands, Sal stumbling as his weight falls forward. Before his face makes contact with the table, Sal seemingly just… goes with it? Just flowing with the momentum as if stumbling forward had been completely intended. With surprisingly little effort, his would-be fall morphs into a drunkenly graceful forward roll, carrying him to a stand- albeit, an unsteady one. 

For a moment, I’m at a loss for words, and before I’m able to react to whatever odd show of athleticism I’d just witnessed, he’s already at it again, eyes locked onto the shot glass like a cat locked onto a mouse. I move to shoo him away with my free hand, yet I’m met with nothing but empty space as Sal scrambles underneath the gesture. 

Again, he tries for the glass. 

Launching himself at my hand, I feel his hands graze my own before I lift the glass out of reach. Sal lands with a stumble, a lopsided grin sitting smugly on his face as he looks from the glass to me. 

Sal lowers his stance, looking something between a sprinter at the blocks and a mountain lion set to pounce. 

Seeing the gears in his head turning (albeit, slowly), I clue in. Before he gets the chance to scale me for the beverage, I make a grab for him. 

And yet, despite my efforts, somehow Sal winds up on top of my hand. It was like trying to grab at water- with him just flowing out of my grasp. Abandoning the shot glass, I grab at him with my free hand- watching dumbstruck as he drunkenly pivots, turning to jump at my in coming hand.

I freeze- Trying and failing to keep my hand steady as Sal hangs off my fingers. 

With my lack of reaction, Sal takes the opportunity to climb my fingers like some sort of rope ladder. 

To my horror, he climbs all of them, heaving himself to a shaky stand on the side of my index finger- Hands on his hips and grin on his face. 

I meet his gaze and he laughs, his expression smug as he wags his finger at me.

“Too shlow.” 

Arms out in a stumbling balance act, Sal begins walking across the edge of my hand looking oddly similar to a failed roadside sobriety test. Pausing, he frowns, pouting in frustration before bending over. For a moment, I think he’s about to throw up. Instead, he plants his hands firmly on my forearm.  

My stomach drops.  

With no effort whatsoever, Sal switches to walking on his hands- somehow just as drunkenly. Swaying side to side, every “step” seemed to overcompensate for the last, looking as if he was perpetually on the verge of tipping over.

And then he did.

In a split second, I’m sober.

My hand darts out, closing awkwardly around his form with all the grace and fine motor skills of a man marginally less drunk. Unmoving and unblinking, Sal stares up at me, a strange sound escaping him… almost as if a hum got caught in his throat. I could have almost been convinced he was nothing but an action figure with the way Sal went rigid- if not for his heart beating wildly beneath my fingertips. 

My own heart drummed in my ears, and for a moment, just a single moment, it didn’t bother me that he was sticky. 

He swallows. The tiny, but very human action feels uncanny at his size. The rise and fall of his chest, the strangely sizable weight of him in my hands… all of it is just so… strange. He feels solid - tense beneath my grip. Fuck- even at his size he felt strong. My eyes trace over the myriad of scars that marred his skin, gaze lingering over the clear bite mark that covered his shoulder and chest…

I hadn't even noticed my thumb tracing over it until I felt him try and push the digit away.

“Mark-” 

“Oh- sorry.” I adjust my grip into something I assume is more comfortable, opting to hold him in a way that left him semi-seated in my palms rather than awkwardly dangling from a first.

It's a weird sight, seeing a grown man sitting in your hands. Every small movement I make has him sway, his head drunkenly lolling back as he slurs a few indistinguishable words with a chuckle. Up close like this he looks just about as drunk as he sounds- red in the face and eyes struggling to stay open. 

Adjusting my grip, I cringe.

He was more than just a little sticky.

His pants clung to my skin, peeling off as I moved like a Band-Aid being removed. The mental image sends a shudder down my spine.

I consider taking the opportunity to wipe off the concerningly sticky little man while I have the chance, though a more rational voice in the back of my mind argues that a good host doesn’t assault their “neighbor” with wet wipes. 

Below, Sal grumbles something unintelligible, clearly displeased with me as he swats at my fingers. Though despite his attempts, my fingers lingered. 

Ugh- He left a stain on my hand! 

I glare at the dark smear of sauce he’d wiped off onto his pants, silently reconsidering the option of dousing the man in dish soap, let alone wet wipes, etiquette be damned. 

Instead, I opted for another drink.

[colasarchive]

Saya no Uta: The coming-of-age drama depicting the lives of ordinary college students

A look at Saya no Uta prerelease, going over early assets and its initially deceptive marketing.

If you can't read the post on tumblr, it's available here https://sayademo.carrd.co/

Madoka Magica’s famous episode 3 twist was not the only time Gen Urobuchi attempted to mess with audience expectations, as Saya no Uta actually had something quite similar. During its initial announcement and magazine appearances the game was advertised completely differently.

Saya's Debut

Dengeki Hime December 2003

Saya would have several announcement articles in the biggest bishoujo game magazines of the time all saying the same thing. This work would be something entirely different from anything the creators had made previous.

After Gen Urobuchi and Chuuou Higashiguchi’s worked together on Vampirdzhija Vjedogonia and Kikokugai - The Cyber Slayer, their next title would be going in a totally different direction. This time, it would be a love story of four people set in medical college. The duo state they wanted to make something more in the vein of bishoujo games, focusing on the feelings and relationships between characters instead of their usual action focus. The work would be much more experimental and tackle the issues of young adults.

The protagonist is a young man with troubles no one else knows about. Through encounters and partings with various people he’ll begin to create a life of his own.

Tech Gian December 2003

 Our protagonist Fuminori has recently lost his parents in an accident and is struggling with the relationships he has with the people around him. Suddenly one day the mysterious girl Saya appears in his house and stirs up trouble. Apparently the reason she came to this town is to look for her father, but right now she’s much more focused on Fuminori. The longer Fuminori stays with Saya, the more his state of mind begins to change.

-In it’s initial reporting, its never stated that Fuminori was also involved in the accident.

-The “love story of four people” is emphasized on, and it’s said other love stories asides from the protagonist will be focused on (this being Oumi and Koji)

This deceptive marketing didn’t last long and wasn’t really planned to be. All the magazines reporting the game like this were in December 2003, and Saya would release near the end of that very month on the 26th. But the reveal would actually come much sooner on the website.

Saya's Website

footage provided by niconico user ぶーにん

The website, initially presents itself as normal as Saya welcomes you to the page. You can look through character bios, download wallpapers, etc. You can totally view the page normally like this and not realize anything. But as you browse, tiny Saya’s will pop up on your screen. As you click the Saya’s an icon on the bottom of the page will appear. Once you click the final one it turns completely red.

Once it reaches this point the front page will violently shake and the music changes. All pages are now changed to the “real” Saya no uta. 

-The story synopsis’ text has been mosaic blurred and unreadable.

-In the character gallery, Fuminori and Saya are totally normal, but every other character has a mosaic blur over them as well as a red tint

CGs in the gallery have changed to what appears in the final game

-Fuminori’s bed cg

-Saya sitting cg

-Saya standing cg

Now that we’ve gone over it’s marketing, it’s time to go over early assets that differ from the final game, these assets come from the website, magazine appearances, and the trailer

Website Cg

PRERELEASE - FINAL

These cg were exclusively shown on the website.

It's not known if cgs like Fuminori's were made for the site or were in an earlier version of the game, but judging by later prerelease cgs I'll go over you can tell the red textured effect present in the final is missing from many other prerelease cg and was likely added later in development.

The difference with Ryouko's cg is so slight I nearly missed it, very simple change in coloring (most present in the skin shading)

Magazine and website Cgs

PRERELEASE - FINAL

-You's choker is missing in the first cg, along with it being added the color of her shirt was altered

-The middle Saya cg was used most in magazine promotions as well as being prominent on the website, the red texture overlay was added in final

-Interestingly, the more ominously lit You cg was used prerelease quite prominently as well. But it's clear that the time of day where the scene happens changed

Demo Movie CG

PRERELEASE - FINAL

-Totally different colors as well as missing red texture, Saya's ribbon is also missing

-Missing red texture

That just about covers it, since you actually clicked and read through everything I'll leave you with a fun fact

Saya briefly cameos in the 2005 Densha Otoko Drama as a poster in the arcade

She also appears in the background of the anime Doujin Work (Episode 2)

Sources

Tech Gian 2003 December 

Dengeki Hime 2003 December issue

Pasocom Paradise December 2003

Saya no Uta website footage

Saya no Uta demo video

Original getchu page sc

[melani3-fel0ny]

Strawberry Sins

Pairing: Ronin x Reader

Summary: Ronin and you share an eerie yet tender strawberry-picking trip, where playful competition and unsettling intimacy blur the line between sweetness and darkness

---

The sun hung low, bleeding a honey-warm gold across the open fields. The strawberry farm was quiet this time of day—just a few stragglers wandering between the rows, plucking red from green and popping them into baskets with gentle hands. It was the kind of place that felt untouched by Ronin’s world. No flashing knives. No cryptic riddles. Just fruit and silence.

“You know,” he murmured beside you, brushing a strand of burgundy hair out from beneath his striped beanie, “I’ve never done something this… domestic.”

You looked over at him, his tall frame cutting a sharp silhouette against the sky. The boots, the leather, the devil horns poking from his hat—he stuck out like hellfire in a sunbeam. But his black eyes, x-pupiled and sharp as ever, softened when they landed on you.

“You say that like you’re not secretly enjoying it,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Ronin smirked. “I am enjoying it. You’re here. And these strawberries look like they could bleed.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to the row in front of you. The bushes were heavy with fruit—glossy reds nestled under green leaves. You knelt down, reaching for one that looked particularly ripe.

Ronin watched you with a tilted head, a lazy sort of affection resting behind his eyes. “That one’s a good pick, Darling.”

You glanced up at him, proud. “Thought so.”

His boots crunched on the path as he moved closer. “But…” He reached past you, plucking a strawberry from the bush behind. It was almost comically large—round, deep red, flecked with tiny golden seeds.

He held it up beside yours. “Mine’s bigger.”

You stared at the two berries, then at him. “You had to one-up me, huh?”

“Of course,” he said, grinning. “It’s how I flirt.”

You reached for the massive berry and took it gently from his fingers. “Then I guess I’ll let you win… this time.”

Ronin hummed lowly, the sound nearly a purr. “Careful, Darling. If you spoil me, I’ll get used to it.”

He leaned down, lips brushing just above your ear. “And I’m very hard to unspoil.”

---

You walked in sync down the row, sun warming your skin and the scent of crushed leaves lingering underfoot. Ronin’s basket swung lazily from one hand, the other occasionally darting out to swipe strawberries he deemed “worthy of his satanic standards.” You were pretty sure that just meant “shiny and weird-looking.”

“Hey, Darling,” he said suddenly, holding up one shaped like a tiny heart. “It’s you.”

You snorted. “Because I’m sweet?”

“No.” He grinned wide, showing teeth. “Because if I bite you, you’ll stain.”

You tossed a strawberry at his chest. He caught it with inhuman reflexes, smirking as he bit into it slowly—eyes locked on yours like a challenge.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, face hot.

“And you love it,” he replied without skipping a beat.

Eventually, your basket was half-full, arms getting tired. You spotted a tree off to the side, just beyond the last row. Tall, leafy, shaded—the perfect spot to sit and breathe.

“Break time,” you announced, already walking.

Ronin followed without question, letting you collapse onto the grass with a sigh. He sat beside you, one leg outstretched, the other bent just enough for you to lean against if you wanted to. His fingers absentmindedly pulled a blade of grass apart.

You watched him in the dappled light. There was always something strange about seeing him like this—out of the server, away from the blood and the games and the darkness he wove so easily around himself. He looked almost… peaceful. Like the violence was sleeping inside him, purring instead of growling.

He turned to you, one brow raised. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said, smiling softly. “Just thinking.”

Ronin leaned back on his palms, looking up through the tree branches. “About how hot I looked holding that giant-ass strawberry?”

You laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “No. But now I am.”

He turned to you again, slower this time, something quieter in his expression. “You’re good at this, you know,” he murmured. “Making me feel like I’m not a monster for a bit.”

You blinked. His voice was light, like he wasn’t trying to make it deep, but the words hung heavy between you.

“You’re not a monster, Ronin,” you said softly.

He looked at you like he wanted to believe it—but couldn’t. Instead, he leaned in and rested his head on your shoulder, sighing so deeply it felt like something inside him cracked open just a little.

“I kill people,” he said.

“I know.”

“I’m not gonna stop.”

“I know that too.”

A beat of silence.

“But you still brought me strawberry picking,” he said.

You smiled. “Yeah. I figured if you’re going to rot in hell, you should at least know what summer tastes like.”

Ronin snorted, kissing your shoulder through your shirt. “God, I love you.”

---

The moment lingered longer than you expected.

Ronin’s head on your shoulder, the hum of bugs in the distance, the scent of overripe berries clinging to your clothes. For a minute, the world felt... suspended. Fragile.

And then he moved.

He sat up slowly, brushing grass from his jacket and glancing over at you. His eyes weren’t soft anymore—still calm, but not soft. Something flickered behind them, that same spark he got when someone bled too beautifully in one of his stories.

“I ever tell you why I like strawberries?” he asked suddenly.

You raised a brow. “Because they’re red and juicy and vaguely phallic?”

He snorted. “Well, yeah. But there’s another reason.”

He picked one from your basket and held it up between his fingers. “Y’know how they rot? Not quietly. Not like apples or peaches. Strawberries decay fast. They swell and sag and bruise and burst. Turn into mush in days.”

“Okay...?”

“And it’s beautiful,” he murmured, eyes locked on the fruit like it held a secret. “How fast something so sweet can go bad. Like they’re not pretending. They don’t rot slowly—they commit.”

You stared at him.

He popped the berry into his mouth with a satisfied hum. “Anyway. That’s why I like ‘em.”

“…You’re unwell,” you muttered, nudging him with your foot.

“And yet,” he leaned closer, licking juice off his fingers, “you keep kissing me like I’m holy.”

You didn’t have a good comeback to that. He was close now—close enough to see the red stain at the corner of his mouth, to smell the sugary tang of strawberry and smoke clinging to him.

Then, suddenly, he leaned back.

"Alright, show me what you got," he said, flicking a hand toward your basket.

You blinked. “Huh?”

“Biggest berry. Let’s go, Darling. Bet you I’ve got one that’ll beat it.”

You rummaged through your basket, eventually pulling out one that was fat and heart-shaped, warm from the sun. “This one.”

Ronin let out a low whistle. “Damn, look at you. That’s actually decent.”

You beamed proudly—until he reached into his own basket with a dramatic flourish.

He pulled out a monstrosity of a strawberry, it was almost obscene.

“Behold,” he said, placing it on your palm beside yours. “Mine’s still bigger.”

You stared.

“You know size isn’t everything, right?”

Ronin grinned like the devil himself. “Tell that to my body count.”

You choked on your laugh, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable.”

He leaned in again, eyes darker now, lips brushing your ear. “And yours.”

---

The sun had started to dip by the time you and Ronin packed up your baskets—both brimming with stolen sweetness and sticky with juice. The field had quieted, most families already gone, leaving behind crumpled napkins and half-squashed fruit underfoot.

Ronin walked beside you along the narrow dirt path back toward the parking lot, his jacket slung over one shoulder now, revealing the ink and scars laced down his arms. He was whistling something—a slow, off-kilter melody you didn’t recognize. It sounded old. Unsettling. Like something your grandma might hum during a storm.

“You ever think about it?” he said suddenly, breaking the lull.

“Think about what?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely at the world. “Like, how fucking stupidly normal things can be sometimes. Like we could be two nobodies just… walking home with berries.”

You looked over at him. “We are two nobodies walking home with berries.”

“Nah.” He smiled faintly. “I’m not normal. And you—” he paused, eyeing you with something unreadable, “you’ve got blood on your hands whether you see it or not.”

You didn’t answer.

Not because you disagreed.

But because you’d seen the way his expression shifted when he looked at you—like you were a crime he was still figuring out how to commit properly. Not rushed. Not messy. Something worthy of his time.

The parking lot came into view.

You were about to speak—ask him something dumb just to fill the space—when he stopped walking.

You turned back to find him standing in the middle of the path, eyes on you. And for a heartbeat, everything slowed.

He stepped forward, slow, deliberate.

“You got strawberry on your lip,” he murmured.

You went to wipe it away, but he caught your wrist.

“Let me.”

He leaned in—and kissed you.

Not rough. Not teasing.

It was soft. Slower than you thought he was capable of. His lips were warm, sun-flushed, and sticky with sugar. His hand stayed at your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek like you were something breakable.

Like he knew how easily he could ruin you.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours.

“…Still sweet,” he whispered.

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t have to.

He reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just tasted you like a last meal.

The two of you walked the rest of the way in silence.

Baskets full. Fingers red.

And behind you, the sun bled into the sky.

---

[meloodyxx]

RECAP OF SHELBY SHUBBLE LORE!! a.k.a. mel refuses to study for her physics exam (its all connected part 1.)

disclaimer: i wrote this in 3 sittings and didn't edit it at all. dont expect it to be good.

PART 1. EMPIRES SMP S1 - my ex-bully transferred to my new school?!

shrub berry arrives to the world of empires season 1 a bit later than most of the cast. how does she arrive you ask? she was chased by Xornoth-the local server demon- from her gnome paradise after it was abselutely destroyed by said demon.

she starts making her empire, containing hobbit holes and giant mushrrom homes. the citizens? her beloved wolf pack that are named after the solar system/zodiac signs and her hand-carved wood friends! and a dire wolf!

everything going great!! xornoth returns!!! everything is now catasthropic!!

xornoth haunts her in her empire as shrub tries to be tough and scary, only to fail and start confessing her sins to him.

she sees a severed wolf head inside of her house. gem comes to talk to her about. gem comes to visit with her book, containing information about the demon. she gives her a corruption containment box. shrub chucks it in her home-made mushroom fairy circle.

there is now a protector (tiny cute lil mushroom man) watching over undergrove

lizzie and joels wedding!! also xornoth is now properly revealed to everyone.

the final end battle. xornoth gets full power (ohhh no. ohhh no.) also update on undergrove, there is now a giant eye!! "oh it's crying. he's sad. therapy would've been so much eaaasier" the tentacles around undergrove are getting worse day by day. there are also red gian crystal floating up in the sky.)

shrub gets kidnapped by joey. she then escapes

shrub gets kidnapped by joey AGAIN. while in the final battle against xornoth. gem helps her escape

xornoth is finally defeated and put inside a crystal (which looks supiciously yummy- this will become relevant later on)

THE CROOOOOOOWN IS HERE!!

then, we have the start of the somehow-even-more-depressed shrub arc! she misses her people, deeply wants to belong somewhere and she starts growing closer and closer to her wolf pack, resulting her on putting on a persona called the wolf spirit.

but suddenly, it hits her. xornoth is gone and so is the corruption, this may possibly mean that her home is now free.

she steps into the portal, comes back to her home (now abandoned). excited to spread the news, she goes to fwhip to show him. they walk into the portal, and its... the reuglar nether. then, they proceed to steal the xornoth crystal from scott (who was still in his elsa arc by then and therefore could not be trusted with it.) she might or might not have tried to eat it. i will leave that up to your imaginations :D

this is where shrub starts to lowkey loose her mind, so buckle up! she meets up with gem (who was still in her anna arc) when gem asks for her help. shrub gives her a soup and gem's white streak turns RED. the xornoth crystal is also whispering to her at this point

our girl gets THE CROWNNNN from joey's scavenger hunt, yayyyy!! she orders everyone to get 5 wolves within their empire so she can keep an eye out on everyone, yayyy!! she is having nightmares and hearing whispers which leads to her giving up the crown to katherinne, not yay!! this is horrible!! she is having a terrible time!!,

what time is it? its time to go full on wolf spirit on everyone!! is what the exact thoughts that were in her mind in her last couple episodes in season 2. she ran away from everyone, took all of her wolves and started a totally normal camping trip.

shrub then found the mother wolf of another forest who has a message for her. she learns that the nether is a gateway which makes it possible for her to find all of the remaining gnomes.

after the rapture, the disaster that effected all of the empires, she takes all her wolfs, gives a final goodbye to undergrove, and goes to search for the remaining gnomes.

these were on three seperate episodes and i thought it'd be funny to include them

another thing that i think is notable to mention about this part is that cc!shelby has teased the possible continuation of shrub's storyline multiple times during these following years. although it hasn't been revealed yet, it is preasumed to give her story the closure it needed.

PART 2. EMPIRES SMP S2- a day in the life of a high school dropout

how does this connect to empires- you ask? well, empires 2 is set to be thousands of years later empires 1! (theres also other connections so just keep reading. source: trust me bro)

empires smp season 2 starts as shelby the witch, being sent to the mangrove forest by the great witches academy.

the mangrove forest is rumored to be haunted. the rumours are unfortunately true. in good news, katherine made her a witch hat! ( it is huge) she also now has a potion store.

remember that potion store? that witch better get herself an ukulele and film an apology video because that potion store caused her to accidentally break a whole dimension, causeing her to replace it. the academy is NOT happy about her recent progress, which is seen when shelby was welcomed by an expulsion letter. they banned her from being a witch. (update: the letter is now burning in lava)

she finds an " old gnome spell" which is the instructions on making the wood-people from undergrove (empires s1 reference count: 1) she also finds a sign saying "i know what you did"

she is also now hearing whispers from the mysterious fog. it has become a pattern now, her hearing things. she also now has a broom! (collecting all the witch essentials one step at a time)

there is still a ghost in evermore.

since her potions like, never ever work, she turns sausage into a zombie and starts a zombie apocalypse for a good 2 episodes (it was a whole thing)

hermits arrive!!!

cub went into the fog to investigate. he then became infected with sculk, his only objective being to spread it, no matter what. shelby used her potions on him to cure the corruption.

great witch shelby (self proclaimed) finds a gnome settlement while wandering inside the fog. there is a broken nether portal and a sign that read "we're in heres shrub. come find us" shelby then sees the flasbacks of xornoth destroying gnomeland. (empires 1 referecne count: 2)

she has a quick dip to hermitcraft, right before coming home and seeing a wanted sign, for crimes against empires. the reward is 100.000.000 whatever the currency is

our girl is now wanted!! not by katherine, unfortunately

another academy letter. summary: bitch you can't gaslight yourself into being a witch. we sent phantoms to find you. you better surrender before they do.

we now see the start of the sculk arc!! shelby has skulk slowly taking over her from this point on. (she is "it's fine"ing herself through it. this is a common narrative among the empires members, they are all delusional.)

jimmy, after seeing the wanted signs and the sculk comes to investigate. shelby murders him.

she notices a blood trail in evermoore.

guess who's back. back again? bradwurst's back, tell a friend. (empires s1 references: 3)

guess who said the quote: "you look a lot like a little gnome i met before" do you have your guesses in? yes? ding ding dingg, you're right its bradwurst. (empires s1 references: 4)

THE CROOOOOOWWNN is back!! (empires s1 reference: 5)

she is very sculked up at this point. close to cub level. things are NOT looking great for her. she goes to bradwurst (evil sausage) for help and he wants her to go intp the sculk pit.

then the lesbians start fighting because shelby is mad at katherine for not finding a cure for katherine's curse and shelby's corruption. maybe she was just mad at herself, maybe it was the sculk talking. we'll never know... "so maybe this is just who i am now. you can't help me. maybe figure out your own problems" LOVE LOSES!!

oli visits shelby and tries to play a song to her right at the center of the old gnome settlement, standing on a sculk catalyst. shelby murders him and the sculk begins to spread *insert badass shot of shelby, now fully sculk* "huh, so that's what it feels like to be empty"

undergrove is more haunted, corrupted and sculked than before. shelby is STILL hearing noises from the fog.

our great sculky witch then enters a cleansing mode where she burns all of the haunting evidence and cleaning up the sculk from the old gnome settlement spoiler: it does not work.

the voices are still as loud as ever, and shelby is one step closer to going full-on evil shelby on everyone. she insists on "not being crazy" as she tries to murder oli again. sausage then saves the day with his empires s1 paralels and uses his wand on her to knock her dead.

problem: shelby is not waking up. soluiton: sausage gets lizzie to help and she uses her nekomancy on shelby.

shelby wakes up in an ancient city and a warden comes at her. she is transported into a fully white room.

sausage then comes to the said white room and shares his experiences about his own corruption and how he got rid of it. "let's get out of here and go get some therapy!"

she now has white hair!! (this will be relevant later) she also apologizes to oli.

then it's one of the most iconic scenes of all of empires: shelby goes to apologise to katherine. "maybe we could get coffee sometime?" "yeah!" (if i am remembering this correctly, cc!shelby said that they really enjoyed that coffee together)

she then gets a letter from her friend from the academy, saying that since the principal turned out to be evil, everyone's records are wiped clean. this means she can return to the academy!

she goes to god joel to learn about lightining magic.

BOOM!! 10 YEARS LATER: storm witch shelby has got a new letter in her mailbox.

PART 2.5 WITCHCRAFT- is white hair still hip and cool?

we pick up right were we left out were we find out what the letter means. the letter is from the supreme witch, inviting her to be a part of a competition where 8 witces battle it out to become the new supreme witch.

the challenges go by as storm witch is getting more and more powerful. "wow, i cant believe how strong ive gotten. this is everything ive ever wanted. i wonder what she'll think of be once i go back home. i'll be so different! what if i change too much? what if i win? i'm not cut out for this, i did awful in school! no no no no no. i need to do this. i have something to prove..."

the "she" does not have a confirmed identity sccording to cc!shelby, but us nature wives people love to think of her as katherine.

storm witch shelby achieved second place in the competition, loosing to scott.

she then goes back home. "it's good to be home. oh- oops. hey, sorry 'bout the rain! i'm home!"

AAAAAAND DONE. i'm planning to do more of these recaps for ccs who have characters and/or lore spanning multiple series. i've decided to start with shelby since her lore isn't that crazy when it comes to the multiversal aspect.

anways, i really enjoyed making this and i hope you enjoyed reading it!

[dilfgp]

🧶!!!!!!

Hiiiiiii beanie!!! I picked max/gp/ellie, I hope that's okay! Thank you for coming to play ❤

When GP catches them, Max is on his knees in the garden for Ellie, her tiny bikini bottoms pushed to the side so he can taste her. He hadn't meant to start anything, but then Eloisa had asked Max to put her sun cream on, and he was so turned on. Then she'd insisted he get the insides of her thighs, saying they were so easy to burn.

Who was Max to argue?

The fabric was so tight fitting that he could trace her slit with his tongue, and the bright orange revealed a small damp patch where Ellie was getting wet for him. Max was only so strong, pleading for mummy to let him taste, her bare foot on his shoulder as he drooled over her cunt.

And then daddy had come home, and called mummy naughty, and greedy. He'd pushed his hand into Max's hair and pulled him away from her cunt, Ellie and Max both crying out in protest. It was Max's fault really, he was the greedy one, but then- then daddy had said if Max wanted to use his mouth he could make daddy feel good.

Max loved to make daddy feel good.

Daddy had mummy's hands held above her head as he fucked Max's mouth, saying he was such a good boy for them. Max was trying so hard to be a good boy for them.

His dick was hard, leaking in his shorts as he took daddy's dick deep in his throat and listened to mummy beg them to touch. Max can touch. He could use his hands to get mummy off, but daddy says no, mummy isn't allowed to come.

He whines, sad, because mummy should always be allowed to feel good. Max is so hard in his shorts, dick leaking as he swallows daddy's come, panting when GP lets go of him.

"Good boy, Maxy,"

"I can make mummy come now?"

"No, Max, mummy has to wait," daddy says, shaking his head, "since she's such a greedy girl,"

He makes a mournful little noise, staring at her bare cunt, glistening with her slick and his saliva. El's legs are still spread, arms held above her head, and her hips buck up into nothing as she says, "Gian, come on,"

"Behave Ellie-girl," he warns her, "or you won't get anything,"

"Daddy," Max sobs, pushing his face into GP's thigh, pleading, "daddy please,"

"You need it so badly, baby, don't you,"

He nods, crying out when daddy's foot presses to his erection, bucking his hips up.

"My poor desperate Maxy," GP coos, hand in Max's hair as he says, "can you come like this, baby? If you can come just humping daddy's shoe like a desperate puppy then I'll let you taste mummy again,"

"I can," he promises, staring up at daddy with wide eyes, hoping, hoping, hoping he'll say Max can, "please daddy,"

"Alright baby," GP says, smirking, "fuck your little dick against daddy's shoe, go on, that's my good little pup,"

It's barely any time at all between GP giving him permission and Max making a mess of his shorts, panting and whining. He's so messy, come cooling in his shorts as he springs forward, burying his face in mummy's pussy once more.

She comes messily on his tongue, praising him for being such a good pup. After, they hold him close and trade kisses like currency, GP throwing a tennis ball every so often to keep Maxy-Max entertained.

[whumpthefuck]

I need more Giant/Tiny-pet content!!!

I NEED more Giant's keeping Tiny's as pets. It’s not something I see enough of and it’s driving me insane, so I am making this post in hopes that other feral creatives will help me fix the issue. 

I love the idea cause there are so many different ways you can take it!

They have a little enclosure like a hamster cage or something, fit with tiny furniture, and entertainment. Or maybe it’s only more basic stuff, like a makeshift bed and two bowls for food and water. This could be seen as caring and compassionate by the giant or made out to be an intentionally cruel or bad thing to do to a tiny. Maybe there are Giants who see the ownership of Tinys as slavery, and fight for their freedom, or maybe it’s been so normalized only a small few giants have issue with it. 

Maybe Tinies are sold off in pet stores, imagine how it’d feel to be in this giant glass home where giants are peering down at you all the time, no privacy or security. At any moment a Giant might unlock the enclosure, and reach down and pick you up. Giants tapping on the walls to get your attention. Or to be the giant, peering into this adorable little enclosure filled with tinies, some hiding some maybe walking right up to the glass hoping to get adopted so they can get out of that damned store. 

They keep the Tiny in a little travel carrier for vet visits. The feeling of the floor moving under their feet, clinging dearly to the bars so they don’t go flying across their carrier into the wall. 

Imagine how terrifying it would be for a tiny who got captured by a giant now being kept as a pet, how cute it'd be for a giant to hold this shaking little thing in their massive hands that practically swallow the tiny up whole. 

Then think how the vet visit goes, being poked and prodded by some giant stranger as they talk about the tiny like they aren’t even there. Massive fingers holding the tiny down with such ease and composure it feels humiliating to be unable to stop them. The tiny has a little collar or tracking device in them, so even if they escape they aren’t safe. Being found by any Giant could lead them right back to their owner. 

Tiny’s being separated from friends and family, being placed into some jail-like environment with other Tiny’s who may or may not be friendly or even safe to be around. Having to learn to survive with complete strangers. 

Or maybe the giant is nicer, they make sure Tiny is well fed, safe, secure. The giant sees it as a way to take care of them, maybe tiny agrees, or maybe they don’t. Either way Gian thinks they are doing what’s best.

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

Star Trek: Lilip

Chapter One: Lilip

Summary: The Enterprise-D receives a distress call from a research station on a lush moon. They manage to find a humanoid alien of an unknown species, and bring them on board.

Word Count: 5148

Author’s Note: I thought it’d be fun to write chronicles of my Star Trek OC’s life, detailing their story and exploring their character. Hope you enjoy the beginning of a long series!

Act One

Captain’s Log, Stardate 43085.7 (February 1st, 2366; 7:07 am). Not long after Doctor Crusher had been transferred aboard, and Doctor Pulaski having departed, we have had little time for reunion as the Enterprise received an urgent distress call from the Terys star system. After looking through decades old data, it was found that the Federation had established a research station on a Class-M moon orbiting the lone gas giant in the system. However, the station had severed contact through unknown means, and attempts to reach out over the years had resulted in failure.

So, to say receiving a message from this station after six decades of silence has been a surprise is quite the understatement. Especially given that the station was set up to catalogue the life forms on the moon, and research how life can evolve and thrive on a gas giant’s satellite. Should this mission bode well, it would be imperative that the data from the station be recovered. The information they have could prove invaluable to future exobiological research.

“We are within range, sir.” Lieutenant Commander Data announced from his station at ops. His pearlescent hands thrummed away on the control panel in front of him with calculated accuracy. The ship was just now entering the star system.

“Very good.” The Captain of the ship, Jean-Luc Picard pulled at his red uniform as soon as he voiced his acknowledgment. He turned to the other station several feet to Data’s right, with an officer seated at another control panel. “Open communications, Ensign Gates. Let them know that we are here to assist.”

“Right away, Captain.” Gates replied. She tapped her panel diligently. With two beeps coming from her station, it was clear the message had been sent.

But would it be received? And would there be a response? That was yet to be seen as the Enterprise passed the star. It glowed a bright, almost white yellow. A plume of plasma erupted from the fiery surface, shaking the ship as the flames licked her hull.

“Shields are steady, Captain.” The Klingon, Lieutenant Worf, announced once the shaking ceased.

“Maintain course,” Captain Picard commanded, “Ensign, status?”

“No response, sir.” Gates said.

Picard furrowed his brow as his gaze landed back to the viewscreen. In the distance, a tiny, blue speck pierced its color through the vast expanse of space. It grew larger as the ship neared the gas giant. The planet was huge, its atmosphere was streaked with stripes of various blues. The clouds that made up the planet swirled around at incredible speeds.

Alarming speeds, actually. For there was an arch of atmosphere that bulged from the planet. It flickered like fire here and there as the gas giant expelled its contents. It was clear that this was what the distress call was about, as the expulsion was so rapid and powerful that it would no doubt reach the moon and tear apart its own atmosphere.

“Bring us around,” Picard ordered, “We must make sure that the moon hasn't been struck.”

Upon entering the commands on the console, the Enterprise maneuvered around the evaporating gas giant. It was impossible to avoid the blast from the expulsion of atmosphere, and it rocked the ship violently. Bodies flung this way and that from the momentum, but were quickly recovered once the quaking stopped.

“Damage report.” Picard demanded.

“Shields holding at eighty percent, Captain.” Worf said in return as he steadied himself on his console.

“Let’s just hope the moon holds out better than us…”

The satellite came into view after a careful orbit around its host. It was tiny compared to the giant, about the size of Earth’s moon. Breaking the vast, blue ocean was one supercontinent covered in lush, green vegetation, with a mountain range splitting it down the middle. Down there was the research station, which was last reported having a staff of one hundred and four personnel, but that was sixty years ago. It was only speculation what the number could be now— Larger? Smaller?

While the sight of such a planetoid bursting with life was beautiful, such wonder was doused upon taking closer inspection of its atmosphere. A pale blue trail faced away from the moon’s host like the tail of a comet. The air that the flora and fauna breathed was being stripped away. The Enterprise was too late.

Captain Picard stiffened at the sight. He cocked his head in Data’s direction, urgency flashing in his eyes. “Data, can you find any life signs?”

“It is difficult to tell, sir,” Data’s calm tenor sounded as he tapped away on his console, “The drastic changes in the moon’s atmosphere coupled with the planet’s rapid expulsion of its own is making it difficult to scan for life forms.”

William Riker, the Captain’s first officer, stood from his seat and took a step forward, his beautiful blue eyes not leaving the main viewscreen. “Do you have the coordinates of the station?”

“Affirmative.” Data confirmed.

“Scan there, see what you can find.”

While Data focused his search, a worried voice spilled from the lips of the Betazoid counselor, Deanna Troi. “Captain,” She addressed, “I’m sensing something from the surface…”

Picard turned to his trusted confidante, his gaze urged her to continue.

“An intense feeling of fear…” Troi’s black eyes clouded as she focused her mind to the sensations she began to pick up from the pseudo-antlers that made two bumps on her forehead. “And pain… great pain… Someone is down there, and they’re hurt badly…”

“Captain,” Data interrupted, “I can confirm life signs aboard the station, but it is difficult to determine how many.”

A blast from the gas giant pushed at the starship, rocking the bridge as people desperately tried to keep their footing.

“We cannot hold orbit around the moon or the planet for long, not unless we want to take a beating.” Picard planted his foot down firmly onto the carpet as the shaking stopped, steadily returning to his usual posture. He turned to Data. “Data, I want you to get down to the research station as quickly as you can.” Another plume of atmospheric discharge shook the ship. “You have one hour to assess the damage, and rescue anyone that may still be alive.”

“Just Data, sir?” Worf asked.

It was Data who answered. “With the change in atmosphere, it can be concluded that it would be impossible to breathe. As I do not require oxygen to survive, it is safest for myself to go, should the life support systems of the station fail.”

Worf simply nodded in agreement.

“Hurry, Mr. Data. Based on what we’re seeing, you don’t have much time.” Picard ushered as another shake rocked the bridge before quickly subsiding.

The android stood from his post, which was quickly filled by another officer as Data strode towards the turbolift. After inputting his destination for transporter room three, the lift moved in response. It moaned quietly as it made its way down, passing level after level. It finally stopped after several seconds, and the doors slid open.

Data walked briskly through the corridor until he reached his destination. A transporter pad against the wall made the rest of the room reflect a blue light. The officer that manned the station, Miles O’Brien, stood by a console several meters away.

“Ready when you are, sir.” O’Brien said in his Irish accent.

After grabbing a tricorder, Data hopped up to the pad, and positioned himself to stand above a white circle of light. “Energize.”

With a few taps of the console, and a sliding motion from his fingers, O’Brien breathed life into the transporter. The glow brightened, and Data was enveloped by blue streaks of light, his figure fading away until he disappeared completely. The machine ceased its bright glow as soon as the android vanished from sight, returning the room to a comfortable level of brightness as the machine purred its gentle hum.

It was by pure chance that the rapidly changing atmosphere didn’t interfere with the beam down. Data’s form appeared, wrapped in a blue light as he was transported from the ship to the inside of the station. The building was dark—the power having gone out from the strong winds outside. Shelves and appliances littered the floor. The station had definitely taken a beating from the high winds that blasted its walls and shook the room.

Tricorder in hand, the device lit up and murmured a droning sound as Data scanned the area. Stepping with calculated precision to avoid any debris, he moved his tricorder back and forth. There was very little oxygen in the room he had beamed into, and Data suspected that perhaps it was like that throughout the rest of the building. Regardless, it was worth looking around for anyone, especially if the life form that Counselor Troi sensed was still alive. After making his way down a dark hallway, Data entered what appeared to be a room dedicated to the operations of the station. A giant crack marred the wall and yawned as wind punctured its way inside. It wasn’t at all a surprise that there were several bodies scattered around, every one of them showing signs of asphyxiation.

One of the personnel, a Caitian, leaned limply against a podium with a control panel that was still lit with power. The feline’s eyes were bulging from her sandy colored face, but surprisingly showed the relief she felt in her last moments. Upon closer inspection of the panel, Data saw that the Caitian had rerouted all backup power to a single room. Life support was on and running in that space alone.

His photographic memory giving him the layout of the building, Data carried himself briskly through the next corridor. A ventilation pipe had ripped itself off the ceiling and groaned against the floor. Maneuvering himself around the pipe, the android continued until he had reached the room that still had power. With quick thinking, Data tapped the control panel next to the door. It opened, and a burst of air slapped against him as he quickly nosed his way inside. The door shut tightly behind him the second he had entered. Whatever loss there was in oxygen from the open door was minimal.

As Data scanned the room, it was apparent that these were sleeping quarters. A bed rested neatly against the far wall where a window rattled violently above it, ready to shatter at any moment. The pillows had been tossed to the floor, and the blanket dangled lamely from the mattress. To the right, a bookshelf had fallen and scattered its contents into a messy pile. But from the pile of fallen books and PADDs, a small, dark hand peeked through a gap.

Quickly, Data rushed to the bookshelf and used his superhuman strength to lift it off of whatever it had fallen on. Throwing it aside with relative ease, he soon picked away at the books. As he did so, the body underneath grew more visible.

It was a humanoid with deep, magenta skin. Their curly hair was a dark purple that cascaded in ribbons down to their shoulders. Interestingly, their ears were long and pointed with rows of grooves inside them. From the ear and to the chin, mutton chops of hair fanned out similar to the ruffs of fur belonging to an Earth lynx. What’s more, peeking from the bottom of their knee length gown, a purple furred tail twitched. This being—whoever and whatever they were—was alive.

Act Two

Pulling the alien out from the mess, Data heard a weak whimper. They were clearly in pain.

The window began to crack under the battering of wind. Immediately Data pressed his hand to his combadge, the golden delta chirping in response. “Data to Enterprise,” He began quickly, “I have one survivor. Two to beam directly to sickbay.” He returned his hand to the being that groaned in agony, holding them in his arms as the shafts of light enveloped the both of them. Soon, they vanished from the spot in the same instance that the window finally caved under the pressure and shattered.

Data had found himself and this stranger back on the Enterprise in its sickbay. In an instant, Doctor Beverly Crusher rushed to the pair, ushering them to a biobed. Data complied, and set the being down as Doctor Crusher began to scan them.

“Was she the only survivor?” Doctor Crusher asked Data.

The android nodded. “She was in the only room with life support systems active. While I did not cover the entire station, it can be surmised that everyone else had perished. It was clear from the bodies I had encountered that they all died from lack of oxygen.” He twitched his head, his yellow eyes darting back and forth as he made some calculations. “I estimate the time of death for the personnel aboard to have been within the frame of thirty to forty minutes before we had gotten to the moon.”

While she continued scanning, the doctor nodded, her eyes softened at her patient. Looking over her tricorder, she could see several bruised ribs, the bones in their arms splintered, and a concussion.

The patient’s eyes rolled lazily open as they opened their mouth to release a pitiful sigh. The whites of their eyes were a pale lavender, and the irises were a darker purple. Scrunching their bushy eyebrows, they looked around as best they could, their sight settling on Data, who returned the gaze.

“Data,” Doctor Crusher started, “I need to grab some hyposprays. I’ll be gone for just a moment, but please do your best to keep her from falling asleep, alright?”

“Of course, Doctor.” Data accepted as Crusher briskly stepped away to a small area out of sight. He looked back down at the being who began to move their hand. Their magenta fingers brushed against Data’s yellow uniform, and in response he grabbed their hand softly. “I am Lieutenant Commander Data. You are aboard the USS Enterprise. You are safe now.”

As the patient began to blink in acknowledgment, Doctor Crusher returned with three hyposprays. One by one, she pressed them to her patient’s neck and squeezed the trigger. They released a sharp hiss, but Data could see that the pain they were feeling was starting to subside thanks to the medicine.

“How’s that?” Doctor Crusher asked. She pressed her palm sweetly onto their shoulder.

After a strained swallow, the patient finally spoke. “…better…” They answered, their voice soft and quiet.

“I’ll need to gather a few tools in order to heal your bruises and your head. Will you be alright with Data for a minute?”

The being nodded, looking back at Data and squeezing his hand.

While Doctor Crusher rushed to a counter a few meters away, Data looked back towards the being. “May I ask, what is your name?”

With tremendous effort, the being coughed out, “Lilip…”

“Lily?” Doctor Crusher echoed upon her return. She pressed a thin, pen-like device over Lilip’s head. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Lilip!” Lilip repeated, gaining more of their voice back. “With a puh at the end!” Their correction was cut off as their voice scratched at their throat.

“Lilip…” Doctor Crusher switched to a device that looked like a tricorder, but with two prongs at the end. She hovered the device over Lilip’s chest. “I like that name, very lovely.” Her eyes moved to Data. “And you’ve already made a friend.”

Lilip and Data once again locked eyes. The magenta being smiled warmly, though their eyes betrayed the pain they felt as Doctor Crusher set to work. It felt as if their ribs were being pressed tightly against the muscles that cradled them as the bruising faded. Their lungs felt tight and heavy, but the sensation soon evaporated, and Lilip gulped a mouthful of air.

“There we go, just breathe,” Doctor Crusher cooed, “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to breathe down there.”

“Actually, Doctor,” Data said, “They were in the only room that had any power left, including life support systems.” He glanced down as the medical device moved up and down Lilip’s arms. “However, they were trapped underneath a fallen bookcase, so I would not doubt the possibility.” Blinking, his eyes met the purple stranger’s. “Is that a correct assumption?”

Lilip nodded. “Is everyone else okay..?”

Doctor Crusher ceased her work and glanced up at Data. The knowing look they both gave each other was all Lilip needed. Tears of pain turned to those of grief as they wept silently, squeezing Data’s hand yet again. The android let his other hand cup theirs, sandwiching it between him.

“Your bedside manner has improved since I’ve been away, Data.” Doctor Crusher teased playfully. She finally put her medical devices down on a table and placed her palm on Lilip’s arm. “You’ll be alright, just go easy for a few days.” She took Lilip’s other hand in hers. “You have my condolences, truly.”

As Lilip sunk their head into the pillow with Crusher wiping away their tears, the doors to sickbay opened. Lilip glanced through misty eyes as a tall human man with brown hair and a matching beard strode into the room alongside an older man with a bald head. The two wore uniforms similar to Data and Doctor Crusher, but were red instead of their respective yellow and blue.

“Data, report.” The older man ordered.

“Yes, Captain,” Data replied, “Upon my inspection, it can be concluded that—other than the lone survivor that had been recovered—all personnel had perished from the rapid evaporation of the atmosphere.”

“Well, couldn’t they just have locked themselves inside the building with life support?” The bearded man asked.

“From what I had gathered, the station could not withstand the wind speeds, and therefore would have left many places open for the oxygen supply to escape, such as the operations room,” Data answered as he let his eyes rest on Lilip, “I only had a short window of time to retrieve her before the systems failed entirely.”

“Well done, Data.” The bald man praised. He took a few steps forward to meet with the magenta being. “I am Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of this ship.” He waved a hand towards the bearded man. “This is my first officer, Commander William Riker.”

Riker gave a curt nod towards Lilip.

Captain Picard continued, “We’d ask a few questions, if you’re willing.”

Lilip, meanwhile, took their hands back and shuffled into a sitting position. Their ribs felt sore, and placing weight on their arms caused a jolt of discomfort to shoot through their limbs.

“Jean-Luc…” Doctor Crusher reprimanded, “She’s just lost her home, her family, her friends… give her time to settle down from the shock of it all.”

“And I would be happy to, but Command has issued me to give a full report on the information gathered from the station as soon as possible. I’m afraid this cannot wait.” He turned to Data. “Have you recovered anything in that regard while you were down there?”

“Negative, sir. I had no time if it meant saving Lilip.” The android returned.

“Lilip?”

“My name…” Lilip muttered softly. They rubbed their eyes to keep back tears, and let out a hoarse sniff. “If you want all the research notes we’ve collected over the years, I could catalogue them.”

“Is it possible that you could even remember it all?” Riker asked.

“Not… all of it,” Lilip admitted as they fought back a choked sob, still raw from grief, “But I can at least record what I can remember.”

Captain Picard sighed, his brow furrowed in disappointment. “All that information is lost… The gas giant ripped away the moon’s entire atmosphere, and with it uprooted the station since you’ve transported on board. Even if Data could beam down again, it would be a fruitless endeavor…”

“I still have the data I can remember!”

“Yes, but it would take quite a bit of time for you to record it all.”

“Captain,” Data interjected, “While it is true that we did not recover the data from the station’s archives, Lilip offering to record what they know is the only chance we have to learn about the biosphere of a gas giant’s satellite, to say nothing of a station that had been lost for sixty years.” He looked from his captain back to Lilip. “I propose that—as she has no place to go—Lilip remain aboard the Enterprise to catalogue whatever information she can recall. As senior officer of sciences, I will supervise her work.”

“That’s a pretty big proposal there, Data.” Commander Riker said.

“Yes. Indeed… And one that must be carefully thought over” Captain Picard muttered under his breath. He turned to face Lilip. “You are welcome aboard the Enterprise currently as a patient to Doctor Crusher, but as for this idea of you staying here…”

“Please?” Lilip asked. “I don’t know where else I can go. At least here, I can be of use to you.”

“That will remain to be seen,” Picard said, “But do rest now. We’ll have much to go over once you’ve regained your energy…” His gaze softened. “...and had a chance to grieve.” His eyes then fixed to Data. “Meet me in my ready room, we’ll discuss more there.”

“Yes, sir.” Data followed Picard and Riker to the exit.

Riker paused and turned around, his eyes resting on Doctor Crusher. “Good to be back, huh Bev?”

Doctor Crusher smiled. “Now that I’ve got my work cut out for me, it really is.”

Act Three

Captain Picard sat at his desk, his eyes looking sightlessly ahead. Upon focusing his gaze, he took one fond glance at the lionfish in his little aquarium before shifting to Data and Riker. “There’s still the question as to how and why the station had lost contact with the rest of the Federation for all these years.”

“Perhaps with the solar radiation from the star, it caused a storm much like the one we encountered upon our arrival, although not as strong.” Data hypothesized.

“Communication systems were completely dead,” Riker added, “It’s likely that they’ve been disabled all this time.”

“Yes, I was thinking the same thing,” Picard sighed, “All that information… all those people… decades of research from the moon… all that life, gone.”

“We still have Lilip.” Data reminded.

“That’s another thing,” Picard said, “This Lilip… Do we know anything about her? About her species?”

“She’s not like anyone else we’ve ever come across before,” Riker noted, “It’s safe to say we know nothing about her.”

“Mm, indeed.” Picard placed his index finger and thumb to his chin in thought. Letting his back rest against his chair, he softly swiveled to and fro as he let himself think.

Data took a step forward, his brows raised. “Lilip did offer to report any information they had learned and remembered. Perhaps her knowledge of her own species is part of that roster.”

Picard nodded. “I have Doctor Crusher analyzing the subject as we speak.”

“This’ll make quite the report back to Command, won’t it?” Riker wondered.

“Oh, Yes.” Picard’s voice had a hint of intrigue to it. He faced Data. “You did very well in retrieving Lilip, well done.” He paused his swiveling “I have given some thought to your proposal about her.”

Data’s eyes flashed with interest.

The Captain continued. “I have elected to have her stay aboard the Enterprise for now. Once she recovers, she will be assigned quarters, and I expect you to oversee her reports, Mr. Data. While her memory may not be as strong as official logs from the station, it’s all we have. I’ll alert Command to the situation at hand in my report. We will shelter her in the meantime until they decide what will be next for her. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain.” Data confirmed.

“Number One?”

“Understood, sir.” Riker insisted.

Picard stood from his seat and pulled at the bottom of his top. “Very good. Dismissed.”

“Well, everything looks good,” Doctor Crusher examined as she scanned Lilip with her tricorder. “Vitals are normal… I suppose.” She glanced up to look Lilip in the eyes. “How do you feel?”

It had been around ten minutes since Lilip woke from a brief nap. At this point, Lilip was sat up, their legs dangling from the edge of the biobed. Eyes clouded, they were still processing the loss of everything they had known. They did not respond.

“You know, we have a counselor on board,” Doctor Crusher said, “Perhaps it would do you some good to speak with her. Get your emotions all together, and figure out how to process everything that’s happened.”

Blinking, Lilip’s eyes cleared. It was as if they had only now just realized their surroundings. Looking around, their pulse quickened as their eyes scanned the various medical devices stored in the room. They turned back to face Doctor Crusher, clarity in their gaze for the first time since their rescue. “Can we go to a different room?” They asked, voice cracked with anxiety.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just—” Taking a breath, Lilip sighed. “I don’t like infirmaries…”

Doctor Crusher let out an amused sigh. “While you were asleep, the Captain had arranged quarters for you. Why don’t I show you to them, and we can talk there?”

Lilip nodded as they shuffled off of the biobed. Their tail lagged behind, drifting onto the floor as their gown kissed their knees. They followed the doctor out the door and into the hallway. As they passed several officers on their way to their next duties, several of them cast curious glances towards Lilip. Their face grew hot with embarrassment, for they knew just how little the Federation knew of her species. After entering the turbolift with Doctor Crusher inputting the destination for Deck Nine, the pair were met with an awkward silence.

“So,” Doctor Crusher cleared her throat as she broke the silence, “Would you like to tell me about yourself?”

Lilip paused, their shoulders stiffened. “What do you wanna know..?”

“Well, how old you are, what your life was like growing up on Terys Beta… that sort of thing.”

Lilip cringed, but was thankful the doctor didn’t ask about their kind. Not even they knew what they were. “Um,” They stuttered, “Do you guys still go by the Gregorian Earth Calendar? Or are you exclusively using Stardates?”

“Oh, you can tell me in years, if that works with you.”

“Oh. I’m, um…” After searching their mind to make the brief calculations, Lilip continued. “I’ll be twenty next month.”

“Really?” Doctor Crusher smiled sweetly. “I have a son who’s just a few years younger than you! Wesley’s his name.”

“Okay.” Lilip wasn’t fond of the idea of interacting with a teenager, but they kept up a polite front. “What does he do?”

The turbolift doors opened, and as the pair stepped out, Doctor Crusher answered, “He’s in school right now, studying to get into the Academy. As far as I’m aware, he’s still an acting ensign, too.”

“Acting?” Lilip echoed.

“Oh, he’s a very bright young man. He’s helped the crew here and there enough to warrant the opportunity!” Crusher beamed as she boasted about her son, and Lilip couldn’t help but let out a smile. The lovely doctor took notice and returned the expression sweetly, her eyes glowing with appreciation.

Doctor Crusher paused her steps as they reached a door. Ushering her hand, she explained, “These are Counselor Troi’s quarters. I just thought you should know in case you ever need to schedule an appointment with her.”

Lilip nodded absentmindedly. They wondered what this Troi was like. Continuing on, the duo passed a few more doors before stopping yet again.

“Here are your quarters,” Doctor Crusher pointed, “Shall we?” She pressed her fingers against the control panel next to the door, and it opened with a soft hiss.

Entering, Lilip couldn’t help but feel as though they didn’t deserve it. The room was separated in two parts—the entrance leading to a living area. A couch faced away from the windows against the wall, a coffee table placed neatly in front of it. Several chairs surrounded a small table to the left towards the door, and against the wall it was near, a replicator appliance yawned from its panel. There were several large potted plants placed delicately around the room, which Lilip appreciated. They made a mental note to study them sometime.

To their left, a small entryway headed to the bedroom, a queen size mattress resting against the far wall. And from that room, the bathroom which Lilip would have to check out later. These quarters were much more luxurious than the room they had lived in at the research station. For a brief moment, they wondered if perhaps there was a mistake in their room assignment.

“Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get you something to drink?” Doctor Crusher’s voice snapped Lilip from their thoughts. “Tea? Water?”

“W-water, please.” Lilip realized just how parched they were upon groaning out their answer.

The good doctor input the order into the replicator, and a glass of cold water materialized out of thin air. Upon collecting it and bringing it to Lilip, Crusher asked, “Is there any particular reason that the sickbay was frightening to you?”

Pausing to sip their drink, Lilip did their best to collect their thoughts. “I just… I don’t like medical settings…”

Doctor Crusher hummed. “May I ask a more personal question?”

Lilip cringed yet again, fully aware of what she was going to ask.

“Does this have anything to do with you? I mean, your species is on no record anywhere…”

“Yes.” Lilip stated pointedly before taking another drink of water. The tip of their tail twitched in annoyance.

Crusher let out the short exhale of a humored breath. “I suppose this isn’t something you’re comfortable talking about?”

“No.”

“Then, I won’t push you, but I’ll tell you now that you will have to talk about it eventually.” Crusher rose from her seat on the couch and took several steps towards the door. “Settle in for now. I’ll call for you once everything is sorted out, alright?”

Lilip blinked appreciatively. They were certain that this doctor was extremely curious about them, but they felt safe knowing that she wouldn’t force them to explain what they didn’t know. After watching the doctor leave, Lilip finished their drink and stood. Upon placing their empty glass in the replicator, they stepped towards the bedroom.

Though they had only just woken up from a nap, the fatigue from everything hit them exponentially. The grief returned and hung over them like a dark cloud, fogging their mind and making their limbs heavy. Drawing themself under the covers, Lilip curled into a ball. Their home—everything they had ever known was gone. What would become of them now?

[squeakygeeky]

Just when I was losing faith in Vietnamese BL they somehow pulled off a historical BL with a happy ending. Mind you, I'm not saying it was good on an objective scale--this was clearly a labor of love by a tiny team with an iPhone and access to an old building. They did the absolute most with what they had, though.

It's called The Dandy and His Servant and I watched it based on the title along, because not gonna lie I've probably read a romance novel with that same title. This show speedruns its way through all the tropes you could want it to hit in a very cute way. There's caretaking and learning to read and the servant is shirtless gathering wood and of course there's the 'call me anh' conversation. Actual kissing too.

The attempted arraigned marriage crisis worried me, because this was the point where it could have shifted dramatic and tragic, but that was resolved pretty quickly and happily for (almost) all parties involved. The subtitles are good but hard-coded.

@heretherebedork I feel like this was made for you specifically.

[thepublishingpress]

A Smile I Will Never See

As they marched in through Kyoshi Island, Zuko was feeling… odd? He couldn’t quite place it, but as he looked around seeing terrified children in barrels, a tiny bit of guilt was creeping up his stomach, making him want to–

Quiet, conscience. Home, Avatar, glory, and destiny first. Existential crisis later. Zuko shook away all thoughts of potential guilt as they marched in with their usual demands:

Hand over the Avatar, and you will be spared.

And, as per usual, they did not oblige.

Zuko should really get used to the opposition.

However, he has no time to dwell on such misery when Kyoshi’s Warriors attack. He is startled, but only for a moment, regaining his composure and fighting them. He takes down two withinn a moment. Another Kyoshi Warrior, this one with different hair and headress, screams in rage and jumps to attack him. Zuko swats her away like a fly. 

A single Kyoshi Warrior steps forward, her anger poorly masked. Her hair is brown, and her pretty blue eyes sparkle like the clearest ocean waters–

Zuko is shocked to realize that he finds her pretty.

Time seems to slow a little due to his thoughts.

As he looks at her, he thinks, even though she is frowning, she would look pretty when she smiled. She spreads her fans, a little clumsily, and circles around him. Then she attacks, at Zuko is shaken out of his trance. It pains him, more deeply than it should, but he gives her the same treatment he gave her sisters. 

Why was he feeling this anyway? It’s not like he’d ever be on the recieving end of her smile.

Not after what he’s done.

Except when she gians victory over him.

And Zuko doesn’t think he would mind, if that’s what it took.

But Zuko would refuse to allow such a thing.

~*~

After the entire mess with the child-napping spirits that turned out to be led by his sister, his feelings about Mai, and the Water Tribe drama, Zuko was glad for some peace and quiet. 

He was also glad to share said peace and quiet with his friend Sokka.

Working with the Kyoshi Warriors had reminded him of something though…

“Sokka,” Zuko says, “You’ve gone to Kyoshi Island before, right?”

“Yeah,” He answers, “Back when you were chasing us, Aang dragged us on a detour to Kyoshi.”

Zuko can’t help but shudder at the reminder of that phase in his life. If always made his think about ponytails and a particularly angsty teenager.

“Well, uh, have you maybe seen a Kyoshi Warrior that–”

“Oooh!” Sokka sang in that teasing and slightly annoying way. “Zuko likes someone form Kyoshi, huh?” Sokka waggles his eyebrows.

“Please shut up before you make me regret asking, Sokka,” Zuko says, even though he already does.

Sokka grins. “Alright, alright. Go on, talk about Mystery Girl.”

“Well,” Zuko says, “She had brown hair tied into a ponytail, and she looked a little clumsy, like she was new to the Warriors. And she had blue eyes, and I thought–”

Zuko continued chattering, talking about how he saw her and such and such, but he stopped when he realized Sokka was absolutely frozen.

“Uh, Sokka?” Zuko asked, concerned. “Did I say something wrong?”

Sokka blinked. Then he rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Zuko, I don’t really know how to tell you this…”

“What?” He asked, fearing the worst. Did something happen to the Kyoshi Warrior? 

“I may or may not be the Kyoshi Warrior.” Sokka blurted, a bit to fast for Zuko to understand.

“I– What?”

“I’m the Kyoshi Warrior, okay?!” Sokka practically shouted. “I was an idiot back then, and Suki gave me some Kyoshi Warrior training, and–”

“So, wait… You’re the Kyoshi Warrior?” Zuko asked, still processing.

“That’s what I literally just said!”

Suddenly, Zuko felt an entirely inappropriate laugh bubble up, and he couldn’t stop it. Then Sokka was laughing too, until they were both cackling.

It died down eventually, Sokka’s laughter eventually getting replaced by a grin. “You thought I was pretty, huh?”

Zuko blushed. “Oh, shut up.”

Sokka offered him a teasing smirk, and pulled Zuko closer to him.

And that’s how Zuko found out how bright Sokka’s blue eyes could be.

^~^

hi everybody!!! in honor of watching the avatar: the last airbender show on netflix AND reading @ultfreakme 's 24th chapter (i feel mildly upset that i was late- HAHA) i decided to write this quick piece ft. our lovely boys :D writer's block kicked my butt, but i'm back baby!!!

(P.S. I JUST REALIZED I POSTED THE CHAPTER OF DYSFUNCTIONAL FAM ON THE WRONG ACCOUNT IM D Y I N G SJKKDFHKAFHS)

[taro-pdf]

tell me about the sunfish

OH BOY DO YOU KNOW HWAT YOU HAVE DONE??? HERE I GO:

(IDs in alt text.)

So there's this family of fish called molidae, yeah? and in molidae there's three families, Mola, Masturus, and Ranzania, and five species.

All of them have weirdo tails, in that their tails are like, gone. Their caudal fin is very stunted and used like a rudder, while anal and dorsal are used to propel. See below.

That's a Mola alexandrini and Mola tecta (drawn by yours truely), aka gian sunfish and hoodwinker sunfish! Molidae start their life as teeny tiny larva only a few cells large, and only a few of the thousands eggs released make it to adulthood. Molas are also the largest boney fish. The largest recorded Mola is M. alexandrini, with the most recent record breaker being about 11 feet long and weighing 6,000 lbs. Thats about 3.4 meters & 2700 kg! !!! WILD.

Despite being ginormous, Molidae as a whole are actually really low in nutritional value. See, the fish of Molidea's diet is soft squishy low calorie things they can inhale. They inhale because they can't close their mouths; they're always open, looking extremely surprised. So they eat things like jellyfish, zooplankton, and squid.

And how they go about eating is really cool, too. All the genus Mola dives thousands of feet in the ocean! Durring the day, most of their prey is down there due to the "diurnal vertical migration"--zooplankton travel up at night and down durring the day. Mola's eyesight isn't the best, so they dive durring the day to have better light.

Funny thing is, they don't have swim bladders. How do they move through the changing pressure? Their bone's and flesh just happen to be about the same density as water, so they just hang out wherever they stop swimming.

Another funny thing, Molidae are cold blooded. And the ocean is cold! this limits how long they can dive for. Older, larger adults can dive for much longer than smaller ones. Regardless, when they come up they have to warm up again, which they do by lying parallel and sunning themselves. Which where the Mola mola's common name comes from! Ocean Sunfish!

The larvea don't sun themselves, though, because they are not the same shape as all. Observe the bean!

The larvae try their best to survive, but most of them die. Thats why Molidae adults produce so many eggs---they (read: have evolved to) to essentially cross their fingers and hope some of them survive to adulthood.

Once adults, their survival chances greatly increase for a lot of reasons. One, their skin is mostly tough cartilage, hard to bite through, though sea lions and orcas do try. Then, like said before, they are pretty low in nutritional value. And finally, that I know of, they are open ocean fish. It doesn't always feel like it, but the ocean is very big. It's not often that molidae come across predators.

They do come across reefs fairly often though, and there are some interesting behaviors they exhibit. Like many other fishes, they let cleaner fish clean them. For more pesky parasites, they float at the very surface of the water and let seabirds eat the parasites off their skin.

Speaking of skin, i most recently learned that M. alexandrini changes color, and it can do it quite rapidly. It seems like when they are startled they can make their patterns more bold, a display showing just how large they really are. These patterns remain relatively stable & can be used for identification.

[pmdnightfall]

That very same night, the Mystifying Forest enjoys its usual peace and tranquility.

As expected, however, it does not last long.

POKEMON 1: YEAARGH! It's a Wild One! POKEMON 2: Another one?! Run away!

A feral Pokemon encrusted with strange material stands tall within the forest, the onlookers all scrambling for safety.

TYPHLOSION: LIGHT.... LIGHT!!!!!

TRUBBISH: HUFF... HUFF...!

An unfortunate passerby, a tiny Trubbish, is hit by a stroke of bad luck.

GIAN: AAH!!

The Wild One closes in on Gian, intending on incinerating anything that stands in their way.

However...

<- First | Prev | Next ->

[okbutwhy-rebooted]

I vote grit, spit, and sheer fucking will.

I AIN'T NEED NO WEAPON-

...maybe my giant pal...

Dear Tinys,

I want to hear about what borrower weapons you’d take on; 

Toothpick arrows? Thumb tack daggers? Wielding a pocket knife as a giant two handed sword??

I want some innovation 

[teal-skull]

Sometimes when I'm researching Salai aka Gian Giacomo Caprotti aka Leonardo da Vinci's apprentice I never shut up about, there's one thing that I think of that really pains me.

That's the fact that in all of the sources we have, nothing is directly from Salai himself. We have some tiny accounts about him written by Leonardo, and we have an inventory of his estate which was done after his death, we have a note which states that he has been paid to Salai for paintings he has delivered to the king of France and some letters mentioning Salai offering his artistic services to Issbella d'Este, but never anything writen by Salai himself.

The only things we have by Salai, are couple of paintings, and even then the attribution is only an academic guess. We have only one painting signed by him.

This man lived for 44 years, of which roughly half was spent besides Leonardo, one of the most famous artists in western art history, yet so very little remains of him. He's been death for exactly 500 years now.

You see one thing that I've been taught about source criticism is to consider who's voice comes through the source, and who's voice perhaps is being silenced, or not heard. Due to the sources we have available, we can never hear Salai's voice, except perhaps through his art. But we will never know his perspective. We only have what his master wrote about him when he was ten years old. Our understanding of who Salai was as a person is filtered through Leonardo, and Salai has no way to defend himself, nor express his side of the story.

It fucks me up kinda.

[nonexistantfandoms]

I’m having issues with deciding the future gang’s job. Like I know the job requirements for most of them already and have some in mind

Nobita’s needs to have some element of creativity and kindness in there to show the positive traits he already possesses, but also it needs to be challenging, precise, and requires patience to show the qualities he grows into. So, I settled on making him a freelance inventor helping people with needed mobility aids, or specific tools, or equipment, while also feeding his creative mind.

-

Gian is obviously doing something sports related but not as the captain I don’t think. His career has to involve not just his skills but his ability to work together and adapt. Something like being just a member of the league baseball team is enough. Both to show his responsibility and integrity to his team and his general ability to not be a jerk to the people around him.

-

Suneo’s is another easy one. There are many instances of him taking about taking over his family’s company and with his silver tongue I find it very fitting that he goes into business. But before that happens though I think he needs to spread his wings a bit. Try out new things, meet new people, maybe butter up to them just a tiny smidge.

Something like a a business appraiser. A good mix between his keen eye but also requires him to genuinely help people improve.

-

Doraemon was made to be a caretaker, it’s literally on his packeting. And he has spent the majority of his life making sure the rest of these dorks and the world as a whole doesn’t combust. So I feel that he should live just for himself now that he has the time to. A jet setter just seeing new places, trying new things, and helping people out along the way.

(Also if you’re wondering where he gets the funds for that let’s just say saving the world a few dozen times over has some benefits)

-

But Shizuka’s job however is difficult to decide. While she has a lot of different hobbies, I feel none of them is really her life’s passion or anything like that. And there is really not a lot of personality traits I can pick out. Sure she’s really nice and smart but the writers don’t give her the chance to express anything else often. She shows titbits of oddities or quirks but they rarely get developed. So I’m a bit stumped.

The only thing I am specifically sure of is that she needs to be in a position of authority, as to change the dynamic of the “token girl” in the gang she has right now.

If anyone has any suggestions please share them :D

[sonicasura]

Oh Soshiro and Mina would find a lot of different things on themself and in Kafka when the hybrid needed a bath. And I fully agree Kafka would try to climb a tree if saw something to hunt.

Silly gian bean indeed. Sometimes, Soshiro's dad has a hard time seeing the same untamed beast he once believed Kafka to be. Especially when he acts more like the retrievere mix breed he his. The family head feels like he gets a reality check each time his son and that dog do something that shatter common sense.

Though to the pairs defense, sometimes these reality checks happens by accident.

Speaking of which, wether Tiny is infulanced by the bond Kafka share with Soshiro and later on Mina, the small kaiju would come to like the boy and girl over time. He even does some changes on Kafka to be better at protecting those two.

As well as make them more comforable around the dog. Kafka's fur is shockly fluffy and smooth as silk. Making it a perfect place to nap. It also great at keeping the cold out as the fur is very resistant to said cold and even fire to some degree. And very water proof, which causes some issues at times when it is bath time.

And the winter coat is even better. Sometimes Soshiro don't even bother with a blanket when Kafka is more than happy to be his friends bed for the night. Everyone in the family as long since given up on trying to stop Soshiro from doing this, though vice-captain's mom have several pictures of her youngest sleeping like this with Kafka. And is not shy to show it to anyone who asks.

Though sometimes, Kafka has to get shaved when the winter coat grows too long and heavy. Said fur though is not wasted as the Hoshina clan uses it to make new beds or blankets after figuring out a way to do so with the help of the Science Department and Izumo Tech. The latter of which is very interested in getting more of the stuff for study in making new witner gear for the DF.

Bakko also loves to Kafka's fur, and it is one of the main reasons the tiger likes to cuddle up to Kafka to begin with. Sometime, he even makes biscuits when he gets to cuddle with the dog hybrid.

They go to give Kafka a bath only to pull out a few frightened lizards, lol. Let their friendship give people reality checks that he's just a good boi who needs trust and love. Bakko making biscuits on Kafka is so cute. It would be funny if he began doing cat like behavior because of the tiger and vice versa.

[insanetwocubes]

Can we talk about how huge these three men look at this tiny-ass table. Marc must be house-poor he has this gian mansion but can't afford a dining table to seat 3 lmfao. It's so cramped, he has to stand to the side.

~Four