#how polluted do you think the depths are?

[slaughtercress]

do you think the sea of a thousand currents is just lake baikal?

[blackpearlblast]

[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]

@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.

This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.

The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.

I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.

[byler-alarmist]

Do people know most paper receipts are harmful to their health?

I'm going to get up on my soapbox for a minute, but do people realize how pretty much everyone is being overloaded with endocrine disruptors like BPA/BPS on a near-daily basis??

I don't think many people understand that ever since most of the world transitioned to thermal paper receipts (cheaper than ink), almost every receipt you handle from the gas station to the grocery store to the Square terminal printer at the local co-op is coated with Bisphenol-A (BPA) or its chemical cousin Bisphenol-S (BPS).

These chemicals have not only been proven to cause reproductive harm to human and animals, they've also been linked to obesity and attention disorders.

Not sure if your receipt is a thermal receipt? If you scratch it with a coin and it turns dark, it's thermal.

BPA/BPS can enter the skin to a depth such that it is no longer removable by washing hands. When taking hold of a receipt consisting of thermal printing paper for five seconds, roughly 1 μg BPA is transferred to the forefinger and the middle finger. If the skin is dry or greasy, it is about ten times more. 

Think of how many receipts you handle every day. It's even worse for cashiers and tellers, who may handle hundreds in a single shift. It is also a class issue, since many people who work retail and food service are lower-income and will suffer worse health consequences over time from the near-constant exposure.

Not only that, receipts printed with thermal ink are NOT recyclable, as they pollute the rest of the paper products with the chemicals.

People don't know this and recycle them anyway, so when you buy that "green" toilet paper that says "100% recycled"? Yup, you are probably wiping your most sensitive areas with those same chemicals (for this reason, I buy bamboo or sugarcane toilet paper as a sustainable alternative to recycled paper).

This page from the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency has some good links if you want to learn more.

As consumers, we need to demand better from our businesses and from our governments. We need regulation of these chemicals yesterday.

If you are a buyer or decision-maker for a business, the link above also contains a shortlist of receipt paper manufacturers that are phenol-free.

If you work at a register, ask customers if they want a receipt. If they don't and you can end the transaction without printing one, don't print one!

As a consumer, fold receipts with the ink on the inside, since that's where the coating is. Some more good tips here.

And whatever you do, DO NOT RECYCLE THERMAL RECEIPTS

[zhongliologist]

If All is Lost, What Then?

Pairing: Aventurine x fem!reader Genre: SMUT (18+) Words: 5.9k Sypnosis: If all hope you had was lost, what then? You sought a certain gambler for a specific need and purpose. You don't know how it will end up, yet it's not like it matters. It was all transactional anyway, and you'd get what you want. But what you haven't considered was how fate works in inexplicable ways. Warnings: implied suicidal tendencies, loss of virginity, creampie, self-destruction A/N: Hi! this is the promised Aventurine fic! It may be a little heavy, any I didn't go into the specifics so everything is a little vague. But I do plan for this to be part of a larger story! Everything will probably be explain there! Please pray tho that I finish that one...

THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. BY CLICKING THE READ MORE BUTTON, YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD AND ACCEPTED THAT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND LIABLE FOR THE DECISION YOU MADE.

 The night was young in the golden district.

The lights, the laughter and the silent laments of its numerous guests and residents encompass the gilded capital of the Corporation. As if they had all gathered there at a single point where all the greed, the glamor and the glib were all contained in a single drop. And the planet’s skies seem to glow in response, its dark purple-red hues become a tantalizing backdrop against the shimmering visage of the city underneath. 

If Penacony was too far of a dream for the mundane and the ordinary, Pier Point would come close to second in the list of places to create superficial dreams, waste money and shatter futures. Unlike the planet of festivities however, Pier Point does not dwell with pretentious marketing--the fact that it is the headquarters of the most lucrative business in the cosmos is enough to gather personalities attracted to power and wealth like moths to a flame. 

And that sort of reputation was the reason why you were there. It didn’t care who you were as long as you had a pretty penny on your name, and you had a lot of it. Your clothes seem to reflect this casual display of wealth--not too ostentatious to be deemed a wannabe nor too ordinary to be looked down on. A black silk dress draped over your body like some forlorn goddess of some faraway planet and adorned by miniscule gold chains which accentuate your neck and framed your face in sultry perfection. It was simple yet elegant. 

Despite its beauty, your clothes felt like armor against your skin--an efficiently calculated strategy, a means to an end. You were no different than the people who pollute the alleyways of Pier Point, searching for something, anything the city could give in exchange for credits.

Paying for a cab to take you to the more lavish parts of the city, the scenery gradually transitioned from grimy streets to immaculately trimmed lawns and dimly lit hotel lobbies. You almost scoffed at the gradation. Leave it to the IPC to visually demonstrate a massive wealth gap. 

Yet you shook your head at the thought. Tonight you didn’t care and you didn't think. Thoughts become spiraling steps towards the dark depths of your being, and you didn’t want to go there again. Right now, you have to do everything you can just to keep your head above the waves. 

Your ride casually dropped you in front of a formidable-looking façade. Its massive brutalist columns and large windows seem to reflect the concept of the Preservation--the patron saint of the IPC. But there were various iterations of what the Aeon Qlipoth represents, and you were sure Pier Point, and therefore, the IPC represented the gluttonous and selfish need for safety and stability. Yet this building seemed out of place, even reminding you of Jarilo-VI architecture, a different variation of the same path. It would have sparked your curiosity on any normal day, yet your spirit was exhausted, down and beaten. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask why. 

Amber Gardens: Hotel and Casino. You smiled as you climbed the concrete steps. How fitting.

The ongoing party was your target. Just like many parties in Pier Point, it attracted the right people you needed, and they will not consider refusing your request. For the next few moments, you sat at the bar in the hotel lobby, sipping a sallow-hued cocktail which seemed to taste faintly of vanilla and lemon drops. It was a much-needed remedy to numb your frayed nerves and to silence dark imaginings. As you drank the bubbling liquid, it burned the stubborn demons still lingering in your thoughts, washed away by the alcohol as easily as the tide. What was left was an impulsive drive strong enough to leave everything you built burning and wasted.

It was no question if what you had in mind will succeed or not. The fish will take a bite no matter what, you mused. Much to your surprise however, it didn’t take that long for something to come back reeling. Who would’ve thought the fish was that eager to take the bet?

“Look who’s wandered around here.” A drawl echoed beside your ear, too close in fact that it almost made you jerk away.

“I expected a warmer welcome, Senior Manager,” you replied with an arched brow and a jaded look which was only responded with a light chuckle. 

You gave him an immediate once over. He was the same as ever--still extravagant, still cocky and still as handsome as ever. He may have donned a simpler white suit over a teal dress shirt now, yet everything from his shades to his accessories screamed he had money to waste. You could only grimace at his wardrobe choice. 

As a senior manager of the IPC, Aventurine was talented in doing business, yet to him, that business seemed to look more like a game of poker than anything. You had initially met him at a random work-related function, similar to the party you had tonight, and you were right to assume that he was every bit crazy. In any normal day, you wouldn’t dare approach him for your wellbeing, yet tonight, you needed that devil-may-care attitude to lay everything to waste. 

“So? What brings you here, little miss--“ 

“Y/N. Right now, I’m just Y/N.” You interrupted, eyes daring him to challenge you.

Aventurine hummed at your sudden interjection. Interesting. 

There was something different about you tonight--a little derailed and out of bounds. Aventurine always had a keen eye on these things, it helps with the gambling, and he could immediately tell that you are in need of something. You who always seemed so put-together, so full of promise, so unlike him…yet right now, you look like you were only held together by one piece of string, and if snaps, who could tell what will become of you.

“You didn’t come here just to taste some drinks, did you?” he asked with a sly smile, nothing betraying the tone of his voice. “Can I help you with something?” 

You leaned your head to the side, allowing him a view of your bare neck adorned with glimmering gold chains underneath the dim lights of the bar. 

“You could say I’m in need of something only you could give.”

“Oh?” he grinned, his bright eyes shining even through the cover of his shades, as his fingers began to trace yours on the champagne flute you were holding. Without you going into details, he could already tell what it is you wanted. It’s not a bad trade-off, in fact, he might actually gain something here. 

“Are you sure though? Once it’s done, you can’t do anything about it.” 

You didn’t try to move your hand away. Instead you allowed him to play with you, teasing your fingers with light touches. 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you replied. “I have nothing else to lose.” 

Aventurine smiled at your now intertwined pinkies. “I admit, hearing you say those words gave me a little shiver.”

You smirked. “Do they suit me?”

Aventurine chuckled, removing his shades and placing them on the table. “Never in my wildest dream did I imagine you’d approach me like this, but…” 

Leaning towards you, he easily seized your hand and entangled his fingers on yours. “I would be a fool to leave you like this.” 

Without even waiting for you to respond, he then brought your hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of your hand as a romantic gesture. At that moment, you realized how effortlessly he could enchant anyone he wishes. It scared you for a moment, but Aventurine was exactly the man you were looking for. Even with fatigue and apathy seeping through your bones, he made your frigid heart skip a beat with no trouble at all. 

“You sure have a talent for this…” you muttered mindlessly, earning a smile from the blond gambler. 

“Isn’t that why you approached me in the first place?” He replied as he stood up and offered a hand to you. “C’mon. Why don’t we continue this in a more private space?”

*

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it to happen like this. 

It was so easy for Aventurine to set every vein in your body ablaze with simple nips and bites, so easy to set shivers down your spine at every slight and wanton touch. You could only cling to him for dear life as he ravished you against a wall of a dimly-lit hotel room. 

“Is this…what you had in mind, YN?” he asked, smirking as he assaulted your neck with kisses. 

“I--nggh!” 

It was already impossible to reply at that point. You, who was never held like this before felt incredibly overstimulated; each touch foreign and arousing. It was like having a taste of drugs for the first time, and you were easily becoming addicted to the novel pleasures he was introducing you to. 

“Come on, princess,” he teased, as he enjoyed tracing his lips on your bare neck and shoulders. “Is this all you can handle? We haven’t even started yet.”

“Aven…turine…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

He could barely manage to control himself, yet here he was saying things. Your half-lidded eyes, your wonderful curves draped over by messy clothes, and your sweet, sweet sighs whispering his name as if in prayer--it was as if everything about you was made to arouse him. Aventurine already had his fair share of sexual partners yet something about you made him feel like it was the first time. 

He brushed his cold fingers against your ear, making you squirm so adorably. It was so easy to tease you—he could plant kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—and you reacted just enough to make him want to bully you. 

Oh, Aventurine…you got lucky once again. 

“Y-You…stop playing with me…!” you scolded him, brows furrowed and frown deepening. 

“How can’t I?” Aventurine chuckled. “You’re so cute.”

“Ughh…flattery will get you nowhere…” 

He laughed again, but this time, his swift fingers effortlessly divested you of your dress, allowing it to pool at your feet. Immediately, you squealed and tried to cover your now almost-naked body with minimal success. 

“Is this funny to you?!” 

Seething, you glared at him despite how flushed your cheeks were. What made you more annoyed was when he thought of lifting your chin with a finger, and leaned close; just stopping short of kissing you. 

“You’re not used to this, are you?” he asked with a grin. 

“…ugh,” you scowled further, but refused to say anything more. It seemed to have amused Aventurine further. 

“Sorry, I won’t tease you anymore,” he conceded with a defeated smile, brushing a thumb on your lips.

In that moment, the both of you stared in silence; waiting for a beat to pass by. You finally had the chance to explore those deeply vibrant eyes he usually kept covered, and in those depths you have found no light—like an ocean with neither sun nor moon. How ironic, you thought. A person who seemed to flash and gleam like a jewel actually had no light of his own. In those brief moments, the playful mood had died down, only to unravel a somber truth that the both of you may perhaps be in need of the same thing. 

“...kiss me, Aventurine,” you dared, coming out as a low growl. 

Again, the blond only smiled at you solemnly. He held your cheeks with both hands; so gentle that you almost thought he was holding his lover. 

“I’m not that cruel,” he replied, leaving kisses all over your face except your lips. “Let someone kiss you out of love, not out of desperation.” 

Ah. You smiled bitterly.

“Alright, I understand,” you replied, your fingers clinging to his arm. “Just…help me forget all of it.” 

“Don’t worry, princess. I never disappoint.”

With those words, Aventurine pushed you back to the wall, pinning you so you can't escape while returning his lips to your neck and collarbone. Everything after that felt like a flurry of bodies moving against each other, of lips exploring every nook and cranny, of hands caressing each curve and dip. In the process, he had divested of his shirt together with your underwear. 

He refused to take your first kiss, but Aeons…did he take everything he could. At this point, you were leaning against the wall while he was kneeling in front of you, arms circled around your thighs to keep you from moving. You were so dazed, your brain unable to keep up with his relentless ministrations. 

“W-What are you…” 

“Just stay still, princess. I’ll show you a good time.” 

Suddenly, Aventurine buried his face at the apex of your thighs, taking a swipe at your already drenched cunt. He kept at it mercilessly, stimulating your sensitive nub until your knees felt weak and you had to hold on to his shoulders to keep you from falling. It was a totally novel sensation—you never thought it would feel this way, not in your wildest imagination. Even though you had played with yourself numerous times, someone eating you out was definitely something else. 

“A-ahh…w-wait! Aven..turine…!” 

The stimulation was too strong, and you were scared where you’ll end up if he doesn’t stop now. However, it seems Aventurine had no intention of stopping even though your hands were pulling on his hair. The pain, the sweet taste of your juices, plus the sound of you screaming seemed to only make his pants tighter. 

“F-fuck…! I can’t…!”

He always thought there was something innocent about you, even during such dirty acts; and he can’t help himself from bullying you further. So even though you were screaming for him to stop, he only slipped his tongue further into your hole, as his nose brushed against your clit. Your subsequent sobs made all of it worth it. 

“Hnghh…!! I c-can’t hold it…Aventurine…p-please!”

You could hardly keep your eyes open anymore. The stimulation was too much that you were already seeing stars. Every time he would press a thumb on your clit, an electric shock would shoot right up your spine, winding you up right until you were at the brink of climax. 

“Don’t hold back, princess.”

The rumble of his voice plus a flick of his tongue on your clit were all you needed to come tumbling down; moaning his name over and over again as your body shook and quaked. You have never experienced an orgasm like that in your whole life—so if this was what it felt like when he was only eating you out, what more would it feel like if he was buried inside you to the hilt, filling you to the brim with his cum?

In Aventurine’s eyes, there was no better view than watching you come, all flushed and shaking, while he was squeezed between your plush and soft thighs. If the Aeons permit, he’d love to spend hours just down there pleasuring you over and over again until you pass out. 

But that was a thought for another day. For the meantime, Aventurine released you from his confines and caught you in his arms before you fell to the carpeted floor. Even through the mists of post-orgasm, you were entranced by his bright eyes as if they were beckoning you closer. And you nonetheless allowed yourself to be enthralled—kissing his stained cheeks; kissing him anywhere and everywhere you could reach. 

And even your kisses seemed so innocent, he thought. An awful guy like him who had taken advantage of you during your moment of weakness does not deserve such kisses. Yet, even though racked by guilt, he couldn’t stop you nor himself. Perhaps he should think like you, pretending this was something fated, something deserved. For tonight, you were lovers.

“Hey…um…” you suddenly pulled him out of his reverie. “I want to…return the favor. Can you…um…teach me how?” 

Aventurine was almost too stunned to speak, but he thanked his wit for being able to recover as quickly. Seems like he has chewed more than he could swallow. 

“You don’t need to, princess,” he smiled, once again cupping your cheek and brushing a finger on your lips, imagining what dangerous things these lips could do to him. “The pleasure was all mine.” 

“No…you don’t understand. I want to…uh…learn how to do it, so to speak…” 

He signed internally. Who would have thought little miss Y/N could do this much damage to him? Who knew that cold and frigid little you could affect him so much? 

“Then who am I to say no?” he replied with an easy smile. “Let’s start by going on your knees.”

Immediately, you did as you were told. Like an obedient student, Aventurine thought. You were never going to make this easier for his self-control, will you?

The sight of you kneeling, looking at him so innocently did wonders to his brain. It was as if he had stumbled into a power trip—if he wasn’t careful, he’d scare you for life. At the same time, he wasn’t keen on stopping. It was already too late to stop.

“What a good girl,” he remarked absentmindedly, placing a thumb on your lips. He closely watched his thumb press and prod your soft and plush lips, thinking how it would feel around his cock. He thought of you looking at him in anticipation, these lips pressed on the tip of his shaft. He shivered. 

Finally, pushing beyond, his thumb was only greeted by your warm tongue. 

“That’s right. Imagine it’s my dick. Use your tongue. Suck it, play with it…lick as much as you want.”

You followed his instructions down to the dot. Everything he asks of you, you did perfectly and diligently. Considering who you are, it would be embarrassing to be accused of not following instructions, wouldn’t it?

“Seems like you have an aptitude for this,” he snickered. “Not that I’m surprised.” 

In no time, he had three fingers in your mouth—nudging and playing with your tongue, mesmerized by how you wrapped around him. Aventurine couldn’t help but think of his cock in your mouth as you bobbed your head up and down just like how you did with his fingers. He’d bet your mouth would be so warm and tight; he’d come right away. 

“Am I doing good?” you asked as you looked up at him, voice muffled by his fingers. 

Fuck…

You might’ve not noticed but Aventurine was close to imploding. The naive look on your eyes, your flushed cheeks and how erotic your tongue was wrapped around his fingers—everything about you seemed to be designed to break his self control. He doesn’t fuck like an animal, but Aeons forbid he might as well if you were going to be like this. 

“Alright. That’s enough. I think you’re ready,” he pulled out his fingers from your lips and licked them, tasting you as he gazed right into your eyes. 

The effect was instantaneous. You shivered in anticipation as you took a nervous gulp. You never imagined anyone would look so sexy while licking their own fingers, but here you were, flushed and bothered. Your core was already drenched since earlier—your sticky juices dripping down your thighs to your legs. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his belt unbuckling. Once again, anticipation exploded in your gut and made your heart race. You never imagined you’d do something like this, but here you were. Watching as he unzipped his pants, he finally took out his hard cock from its confines. Eyes widening in surprise as you realized how big and hard he was, you suddenly weren’t sure he’d fit in your mouth. Practicing with his fingers seemed like a huge understatement. 

“Don’t worry, princess,” he reassured you with a grin on his lips, cupping your cheeks once again. “I’ll be sure to help you out.”

Aventurine then held his hand out to you, which you took immediately.

“Now, I want you to hold me,” he told you, as he placed your hand on the base of his cock. You could feel your heartbeat on your throat, waiting patiently for further instructions.

“You can lick me just like you did with my fingers,” he said, fingers lifting your chin up. “You can take me in nice and slow. I’ll be patient.”

Ignoring the thunderous sound of your heart racing, you tentatively licked the tip of his cock, watching his every reaction with such attention. With every moment passing, you gradually became bolder and more excited, until you earned a growl from Aventurine after swiping your tongue from the base to the tip. 

“Hey, easy there, princess,” he chuckled with bated breath. “You’ll make me come in no time.”

For some reason, his breathy groans encouraged you further. There was something so addictive and so enthralling to the sound of his sultry voice, which made you want to please him more. Every time you would trace a vein with your tongue or whenever you suck on his tip, he would hold your hair tightly and try to resist the urge to climax so early. 

If Aventurine was honest, he could tell it was really your first time. You were sloppy and slow, and there were times he thought you were teasing him by not going any further. But inexplicably, he was so hot and bothered at that moment. His cheeks were flushed and heated and that certain look on your face whenever you glance up to him for validation could easily snap his sanity into two.

Perhaps it was because he had never expected this side of you. The contrast between your regular self and the you right now was massive, and that certainly had a different appeal in and of itself. The image of you sucking him off, mouth full of his dick will definitely be etched into his mind forever. Whether or not this will happen again, who knows? But he definitely landed on a jackpot once again. 

You admit this wild and bothered look on him was something you loved, partly because of how carelessly handsome he is, partly because this was your own doing. You made him become like this, and perhaps you could get him to give you more. Finally gathering the courage, you took him to the hilt, filling your mouth and throat; surprising him with the sensation. 

“S-shit…! Y/N!” 

Choking out a cry, Aventurine pushed you away and scooped you up over his shoulder. Something definitely snapped in him, you recalled thinking as he tossed you ungracefully to the nearby bed and pinning you on the spot between his legs. 

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a menace?” He chuckled darkly, brushing his messy blond hair with his fingers. “You see, I don’t want to come in your mouth first thing tonight. Rather, I’d like to make a mess here…”

Spreading your legs wide, Aventurine pressed a finger on your wet and sensitive clit, making you cling to the sheets instantly. He easily turned you into a screaming, sobbing mess with his fingers rubbing your drenched folds. 

“A-aven…mmnh!! W-wait…ah—!”

The blond didn’t allow for any rest as he smoothly inserted two fingers inside, rubbing your gummy walls until you had trouble spreading your legs. You had no time to think, no time to ruminate on what was happening to you. Aventurine was relentless in his assault, sending waves upon waves of pleasure from your lower part towards the rest of your body. You could hardly keep your eyes open at how intense his fingers were, both attacking your pleasure point and your clit. 

It feels good…! It feels so fucking good…

Aventurine chuckled; his eyes almost glowing. “So pretty…my pretty little slut. Are you going to come? Here, let me help you.”

Without stopping his fingers, he leaned forward and started circling his hot tongue around your nipple. He nipped and bit at your soft and supple flesh yet he refused to give you any respite. 

“N-no…no…it’s too much! I’m going to…!” 

Knowing you were close, he suddenly bit your nipple and pushed his against your g-spot at the same time. Of course, you shuddered and screamed his name as you fell down the peak of your climax. He could only grin at your messy and enthused form, with your thighs drenched with your own juices, your lips stained with drool and tears and your skin littered by marks of his own creation. However, that wasn’t enough. Not enough at all. 

“Who would’ve thought this was your first time?” he remarked, fishing out a condom from his pants. 

“W-wait…!” you manage in between breaths. “You…don’t have to…I-I came prepared…” 

Arching a brow at you, the blond was greatly amused at how far you’d take all of this. “So you really came for the whole experience, huh? My princess is rather diligent.”

Placing himself between your legs, Aventurine began to rub his hard cock on your folds, lathering his shaft with your own juices. On the occasion of his tip brushing against your clit, you would beg and sob for him—unsure if you want to continue, but missing his presence when he decides to pull away. 

“A-Aventurine….wait! I just came…nghh!! P-please…!” 

“Isn’t this what you asked for, princess?” he taunted, threatening to enter you but suddenly slipping away. “I’m going to fuck you now, are you ready?”

It was the million dollar question; the whole point of tonight. Everything about this encounter was out of desperation and there was definitely no turning back, yet in the end, does it even matter? 

Without hesitation, you nodded your head, and repeated your words. “Just help me forget…”

Aventurine scoffed. “Don’t worry. You won’t be able to think of anything but me.”

Not waiting for a reply, Aventurine slowly inserted his cock in you, careful not to be too harsh. You anticipated the pressure, yet you seemed to have grossly underestimated how full you’ll feel as he gently pushed in and out. It was totally different and definitely overwhelming. If he hadn’t made you come twice, you’d probably be crying out in pain now. Leaning over, the blond attempted to distract you from the uncomfortable feeling by assaulting your neck and chest, leaving more love bites in his wake. Finally, with much effort, Aventurine was now fully inside you, yet he still waited for you to get accustomed to his size before doing anything. 

“How does it feel?” he asked in a low voice as he bit and licked the underside of your ear. 

“Hnnghh….I feel so full,” you managed to reply even though you were breathless. “You’re so big, Aventurine…” 

“Here, hold me,” he offered as he directed your arms to circle around his neck. “Just relax.” 

You never imagined Aventurine to have this side of him. Even though you could tell he was trying to resist the urge to move, he was being gentle and patient with you. It was as if he was concerned you’d be in pain rather than chasing his own high. It might’ve moved your frigid heart for a moment. 

“I…I think I’m fine now…” you finally told him as the discomfort toned down. “Please make me feel good…” 

“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckled, nuzzling on your neck as he steadily picked up his pace. 

Thank the Aeons you finally allowed him to move. He was almost at his wits’ end, as he struggled to keep himself calm while wrapped around by your warm and tight walls. Even as he gently rocked back and forth inside you, the only thing keeping himself from coming was how he distracted himself with pleasuring you. Amusingly, he also wondered why he was acting like this was his first time. 

“Oh god…there! A-ahh! Harder please!” you screamed beside his ear, your hands brushing through his hair at the nape. 

“You dirty girl…” he grumbled, thrusting sharply into you. Noticing how you both had finally settled on a rhythm, Aventurine decided to switch positions—now leaning back and holding your hips as he rammed ruthlessly into you. 

You immediately saw stars every time his cock pushed against the sensitive spot inside of you, arching your back at the intensity of the pleasure. This was different, so different from the other kinds of pleasures he had shown you tonight. This was primal, this was true and actual mating. You could feel him thrust against the entrance of your womb, intent to fill you up with his cum. 

“F-fuck…” he whispered, sensing the closeness of his climax. He could only endure so much, but of course, if he’s going down, you’re going down with him too. 

With his thumb, Aventurine began to stimulate your sensitive nub again, rubbing and flicking it, and enjoying your wild screams. The room was filled with your filthy noises—your sobs and cries, his cursing and growls and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It was dirty and obscene, and something you’d remember forever. 

“N-No! I’m…coming…a-ahh! Aven…I’m…!” 

“Y-yes, come with me, princess. I’ll fill you up with my cum…”

You could feel his movements become erratic, an indication that he was close. You, on the other hand, was no different. Your head was filled with electrifying shocks of pleasure as he drove into you over and over again. You could feel yourself teetering close to your climax, as you begged him to fill you up over and over again. 

Finally, in one sharp thrust, both you and Aventurine came. You shook, shivered and screamed as you felt his warmth fill you inside; tightening around him as you continued to ride out your orgasm. Meanwhile, he toppled above you, kissing your face over and over as if in a delirium. He then continued down your jaw, worshipping everywhere his lips could land on except on yours.

“Fuck…” he growled, pushing his still hard cock in you. “Can we do it again?”

It wasn’t everyday that he was this insatiable. He couldn’t understand why but something about you drove him feral, as if he had to breed you several times to feel satisfied. He couldn’t understand where this possiveness came from, but he wanted you so much that it ails him not to hold you. 

“W-wait…!” you rasped, arching your back as he once again descended on one of your breasts. “I just c-came…please…” 

Aventurine sat back up, watching you as you tried to regain your breath. He could feel his cum inside you, almost dripping out of you, and the thought seemed to entice him to keep you pressed against him. 

Lifting you up without pulling out, he turned you around. You landed on all fours as he unrelentingly continued to leave marks from your neck down to your back. You could feel his tongue tracing your spine as he descended down, while his cock continued to go in and out of you. 

“A-Aven…turine…! A-ah fuck…!” you cried out, unable to do anything but enjoy what he has to give you. 

You honestly felt like you couldn’t come anymore yet the mixture of pain and pleasure was so enthralling that you had to continue. You wanted to be driven up to deliriousness and insanity further, you wanted to know up to what limits he could take you. 

Unlike the first time, this round was the purest form of fucking. The both of you were trapped in a haze of lust, unable to stop yourselves from yearning for each other. He was rough and feral, as if he had only one last chance to do whatever he wanted with you, and you allowed it. After all, this was the kind of sex you were asking for—a sex so mind-numbing you stopped thinking altogether. All that mattered was the chase for pleasure and the final thunderous climax. 

“Oh Aeons…you feel so good, princess. I don’t want to stop…” he growled as he seized both your wrists and thrusted from the back, roughly going in and out of your hole until his cum began dripping out. 

“Please…harder!” you begged, “Fuck me harder…Aventurine…!” 

He chuckled in between low grunts. “What a dirty little princess…I’ll make sure you’ll never forget tonight…”

Right when you were so close, Aventurine pulled you to his lap facing him, his cock sinking into you and reaching even deeper places than before. His grip on your hips were bruising as he jerked into you sharply. His mouth was once again on your pulse point, and snaking towards the crook of your neck and then your jaw—if he can’t have your lips, might as well have everything else. 

“A-Aventurine…!”

As you moaned out his name, he glanced at you and watched as your face contorted in pleasure, memorizing how you looked in case he will never have the chance again. At that moment, both your lust-laden eyes met and locked both you in place, capturing you in an inescapable spell. Even as he continued to bounce you on top of him, your gazes never wavered. 

“Oh Aeons…I want to kiss you so badly…” he growled, eyes half-lidded and lips just a hair’s away from yours.

“Then kiss me…I want you to kiss me…p-please…” you pleaded in desperation. 

Yet he only smiled at you somberly. 

He wanted this to be real. He wanted to see you, to spend time with you again, not only just for tonight. Yet at the same time, Aventurine knew that if he gave you everything, you’d really have nothing else left to hold you back. He knew why you came to him tonight, why you wanted him to take your first time. He could see it in your eyes—the despair and the hopelessness, and how you didn’t care anymore. But he does, against his better judgement. He does, because he sees that same hopelessness reflected in his own eyes. So even if he wanted to taste those sweet lips now, he'd hold off.

“Focus, princess,” he ordered, thrusting into your g-spot to numb your head. 

To distract you, he pinched your clit and relentlessly pounded into you. He knew that was any easy ticket to your orgasm, though he was not spared. Your walls would tighten like a vice around him whenever you were close, and he himself couldn’t hold off that long. 

With all his ministrations going on at the same time, you could no longer think about anything except your pleasure and how you were so close. But in one stroke against your sensitive spot, Aventurine had you coming down from your high in a disastrous tumble, with you shaking on his laps as you squirted on him. He followed soon after, unable to deny himself any longer. Ropes of cum filled you once again, savoring a feeling of warmth in your womb as you teetered at the edge of consciousness. The last thing you remembered was the sensation of his lips on your forehead, bidding you good night and promising to clean up after you. 

By the time you woke up, you could see slits of light peeking from the heavy curtains. You were definitely clean as promised, but now you were alone. Of course you were. It was a transaction after all. 

Cursing at how sore you felt, you spotted a note on the nightstand as you moved to stand up. You could only chuckle after reading. 

Ask me to kiss you if we meet again. -A

P.S. I’ll treat you to dinner if you do. 

[aventurine83]

Not Another Song About Love

Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

Notes : G/N! Reader, war era General Lilia, angst

Let it out.

Been building up, you better let it out.

Say everything that you've been meaning now.

I want it to burn.

Lilia felt tired. There was an aching sensation in his heart, one that tore away at him. He wished he could stop thinking about them. He wished he could stop thinking about their voice, their lips, the shape of their eyes and the way the corner of their eyes crinkled when they laughed. Excruciating pain was only to set foot in a most sultry manner in the depths of his heart.

When you tell me I'm such a wreck.

It isn't easy cleaning up your mess.

It's like I've got a rope around my neck.

She says it won't hurt.

It was so difficult for him, always being the one to look after others, cleaning up their messes. But Y/N, they were the one to always take care of him. Meleanor had said love wouldn't hurt, that Lilia should just embrace his feelings. But it felt as if he would suffocate from it any second. He couldn't love anyone. He wasn't capable of it. He was just a filthy, useless bat. A lowlife whose magic was polluted. He could not possibly be in a beautiful feeling such as love. He could never deign himself worthy to be in love, what he had was probably obsession. After all, a pure thing like love could never exist in his heart. He was lower than the low. The senators had never failed to remind him of that.

But everything you do makes my heart race.

I can't even think straight.

Is this just a game to you?

Reruns every night.

It's always the same fight.

And I think you should know.

He was probably just a game to Y/N. They probably didn't even care about him much. Why would they? He was just a mere commoner, a mere soldier. They were so much more. They were the radiant light, he was nothing in comparison, other than perhaps the annoyingly persistent shadows that inked the bright meadows with a murky black. Whenever they touched him softly and bandaged him, and cheered him on with their gentle and unyielding words. They were probably either pitying him or playing around with his pathetic self for a brief moment. They couldn't possibly love him. It was impossible.

I hate your touch, I hate your mouth.

I can't stand every single word that falls out.

But you're all that I've been dreaming of.

This is not another song about love.

Lilia wished to hear more of their sweet compliments, even if he did not deserve it. He yearned for more. He wished that he was the one they held in their embrace. He wished he was the one Y/N saw and called their love. He hated feeling this way, and yet he couldn't help himself. Lilia wanted himself in their loving arms, in their life, in their home. If they allowed him. It was his one and only earnest desire.

I hate your voice, I hate your lips.

I hate how bad I wanna steal your kiss.

But you're all that I've been dreaming of.

This is not another song about love.

Lilia often found himself staring at their lips, wondering how they would taste. Wondering whether their lips would be soft or slightly chapped. He dreamt often of a life where they loved him back and kissed him the way he had always wanted them to. Their arms would be wrapped around his petite waist as they pressed their lips upon his. And he would kiss them back, till his lips tired of kissing their worries away. He despised how much he craved for these fantasies, despite knowing that they would never come true. He could never be theirs. He had a duty to his country, and to Meleanor. To his dear old friend Raven as well. He could never fall in love. His was a life of serving, and they deserved much better than the servant that was him.

Lilia closed his eyes and went to sleep. And this time, he hoped he would never dream of the person he "loved".

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

@koneko-dreams Your order!!

[rahuratna]

Hello hello! I have yet another musing (even though it isn’t one am) 🥹

There was one line Megumi said in season one that stood out to me: he will save people unequally based on his own conviction. Perhaps this was initially intended to be a foil for Yuji, but I ended up comparing it with Geto’s ideology. One acknowledges that not all of humanity is worth saving, that not all of the weak is necessarily innocent. And the other takes it to the extreme, that the weak are “polluting” the world, forcing sorcerers to become nothing more than disposable tools.

The reason I bring this up is because I couldn’t understand Geto for the life of me. Perhaps it is a good thing that I do not relate to a mass murderer LOL. Specifically it was his extremism that threw me off. Why didn’t he just leave like Nanami? Why not live off the grid and enjoy life doing whatever he wanted to do? Why put in so much effort in something that wasn’t even going to be realized in the first place?

So after reading up about it, I finally understood the back-to-back events that led him down that path. There’s a lot of analysis out there explaining it, and it made sense. That Geto will always be against non-sorcerers since he blames them for creating the curses causing sorcerers to have to sacrifice themselves. That there was no end goal, curses will never stop existing and sorcerers would continue to die in an endless cycle. He needed a reason to justify all the pain he had to go through.

But. I was not satisfied with that answer LOL. It seems almost TOO cold-hearted in a way. I mean, yes you need to be cold-hearted to be able to commit genocide, but Geto was not completely emotionless. Especially when he adopted the two girls, didn’t kill any of the Jujutsu High students, and was still able to smile in front of Satoru during his end…

Hm, I don’t think I’m very good at articulating this part of what I’m thinking. But it’s kind of like how I can understand the reasons why Eren killed 80% of the earth’s population. So the people that made up HIS world would be able to live better lives. I was able to understand this because we had followed his journey from the very beginning. We knew just how precious the reason he was fighting for was, and we also saw the exact world he envisioned. With Geto, we weren’t given the same opportunity to go in depth to what he valued.

The reason for Eren’s genocide was emotional: it was for his friends. Like we could say, “yeah, Eren killed almost all of humanity because they were opponents and would’ve destroyed Paradis,” but there’s another layer of meaning behind it ykwim. With Geto, framing his reason for genocide in order to get rid of all non-sorcerers just doesn’t seem to capture the full extent of his purpose. MAYBE IM JUST OVERTHINKING IT BUT MAYBE—

Perhaps what I was looking to hear were two things:

- why Geto thought the world would have looked like without non-sorcerers

- what happened during his isolation when Gojo and Geto were in their third years of high school

I vaguely remember this scene from the jjk movie where Geto went a bit batshit when he saw the Jujutsu working together to beat him. I think? Anyways, I think it revealed how Geto was fighting for sorcerers to be able to be together. But maybe he was also fighting for the relived memories when both Gojo and Geto were strong together, how they were able to overcome anything together. That was probably one of the happiest times in Geto’s life. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to happy anymore after he had changed… and Gojo too… so perhaps he was trying to revive the moments that made him the happiest… That’s wishful thinking on my part but these types of thoughts absolutely change my perception on Geto (I still don’t condone genocide 🫠).

Lastly, we were given a glimpse— a crumb, really— of the drift between Gojo and Geto. This part really is up for speculation because we did not watch what happened throughout their third year. The part that I haven’t really heard much about is loneliness. Maybe people describe Gojo’s loneliness but I haven’t heard much about Geto’s loneliness. The extent of it, the impact it had on his descension, was it preventable, and what would’ve changed if he wasn’t alone. That’s where the song “Akari” might help answer some questions but this ask is wayyyyyy too long.

Omg, I’m so sorry if I am incoherent because I’m definitely rambling! It started off with Gumi then extremism talks then Eren then… yeah… I suppose my thoughts about Geto have been unresolved for a long time (aka 3 days💀)

Hey! Another lovely ask, yay! So, I think that you expressed this whole analysis far better than I could. I think the comparison to Eren is very apt, considering that these are two characters who are shown to be empathetic, to feel strongly about issues that affect those they care about and take decisive action on those ideologies ...

... unfortunately ending up committing mass murder. Where Eren's character arc ended was a hard to swallow, but understandable one to me. Considering everything he'd experienced and the burden placed on his shoulders, Eren's choice carried a lot of weight. He socialized with his victims! People who would die horrific and violent deaths at his hands, and he FELT the weight of their lives. It broke something inside him, and once he made the decision, there was no backing down. It would have been a sacrifice poorly spent (in his mind) if he didn't follow through with those plans for a safer world for HIS people.

The word that comes to mind when I think of Geto is 'isolation', something that @pmpmyread got into really well in her analysis. The things that happened to him were terrible and sent him spiraling into deep depression, but a lot of his isolation was also self-imposed. Nothing is more insular than building your own cult, which looks down on regular humans as trash and regularly kills them without batting an eye.

You're absolutely right about us not seeing enough of Geto's thoughts as he spiraled further, making his genocidal tendencies more difficult to explain, considering who he was at the outset. However, I do believe the answer lies in the underlying reasons that cults can exist, in spite of human logic and free will.

Because people need a space where they belong.

Geto was suddenly in a very dark and lonely place, where he was beginning to realise that he hated humans for creating the necessity for sorcerers to risk their lives, and that there was no desire to remain a sorcerer either, as their world was equally driven by corrupt and soulless motivations. He carved a space for himself, and other curse users, where he would finally feel a little less isolated. At least, that's the impression I got. His group trusts him implicitly, and risk themselves for his ideals, so there must be some form of bond he has created, even if, like most cults, it stems from an 'us against them' ideology.

And apart from all of this, Geto still preserved some sense of humanity. This is the same man who showed genuine care for his group and who still smiled at Gojo before he died. He still recognized the strength and value of his enemies, because they had once been his friends, in another place where he had belonged, a long time ago.

Those are my thoughts, and I'll stop there because I can also ramble on and on and lose the plot, LOL. Please send more thoughts (whether 1 am or any other time) when they strike you like lightning! It feels like having a great cup of tea with a like mind and good friend!

[sigyns-drafts]

Hi, again! Luv what you did for my request with Marie Antoinette! Reader! I love how you characterised her and how she interacted with others, notably Jack!

Hope it wouldn't be too much of a bother for me to request Amphitrite! Reader with Poseidon, sort of a re-imagining of their marriage story where Amphitrite is an elegant, diplomatic queen, and yet literally the only thing keeping Poseidon from drowning humanity entirely/not having the seas in war with other gods?

I imagine Trite and him originally met during the Titanomachy, where she was sided with her dad Oceanus, and later met again in the actual marriage myth. I'd also especially love to request the part in the myth where Poseidon couldn't rizz her up himself, so he sent every sea creature to do it for him, and she goes, not because they were convincing, but because she wanted him to do it himself.

I wish you the best, take care of yourself, and keep doing what you do! 😊

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for even suggesting it in the first place! It was a blast to give her some characteristics with what you gave me and put her next to different characters. Jack was the cherry on top~ 🤭

You already know the answer~ I'd gladly write about your wonderful Amphitrite! I wish you the same back, take care of yourself and as always, love your art work and I hope you enjoy✨💕

A Love Forged in the Depths 🌊❤+💙

➩ In the shimmering depths of the vast sea, where the currents weave tales of old, resided the regal domain of Poseidon, the tempestuous god of the oceans. Yet, beneath the tumultuous waves, there awaited a woman upon Poseidons arrival home.

It was Amphitrite, the elegant queen whose grace would temper with Poseidon's wrath as it often did! Soon enough bringing back the couple back down memories lane.

➩ Reader type: Amphitrite!reader x Poseidon

⚠: A bunch of romantic fluff and teasing!

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue upon the waters, Amphitrite awaited Poseidon's return to their coral-laden palace.

Her dark skin glistened under the iridescent glow, and her red eyes held depths as unfathomable as the ocean itself. With each graceful movement of her dark mermaid tail, she exuded a sense of regality and power.

As Poseidon emerged from the depths, his trident gleaming with a fierce light, Amphitrite approached him with a gentle yet resolute demeanor.

"Welcome home, my lord," she greeted, her voice a melody that calmed even the wildest of storms.

"I trust your ventures were successful~?"

Poseidon's gaze softened as he beheld his queen, the one who held sway over his heart like no other woman.

"Indeed, they were, my darling Amphitrite." he replied, his voice filled with genuine feelings of happiness to be with his love once more, but he was hiding something behind those dark blue eyes.

"But, the affairs of the sea are ever tumultuous, and my patience wears thin on these mortals.."

Amphitrite raises an eyebrow at his words, confused on what the mortals could've possibly done now. She placed a comforting hand on Poseidon's arm, her touch soothing the storm within him.

"I understand your frustrations, my love.." she said, her words a balm to his troubled spirit.

"But please remember, it is through rational thinking and restraint from your anger that we maintain balance in the world right?"

Poseidon grunted, his gaze drifting towards the distant horizon where mortals sailed upon the waves.

"Humanity tests my patience at every turn.." he growled, his grip tightening on his trident.

"They pollute my waters, plunder my depths, and show no respect for the power I wield."

Amphitrite nodded understandingly, her eyes never leaving his.

"Yes, they may be reckless and foolish at times," she conceded. "But they are also capable of great beauty and ingenuity. We must guide them, not punish them."

Poseidon sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly under Amphitrite's gentle persuasion.

"You speak wisdom, my queen. I'll think about this..." he admitted, his voice softer now.

"Perhaps I have been too quick to anger, too eager to unleash the fury of the sea.."

Amphitrite smirked, her radiant presence illuminating the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

"Exactly, together, we can achieve great things, my love~" Amphitrite said, her words a promise of unity and strength.

Poseidon took Amphitrite's hand in his own, the roughness of his touch softened by the tenderness in his eyes. He pulls her closer to himself, grabbing her waist.

"You are the anchor that holds me steady~" he confessed, chuckling under his breath. "Remember the day we first met?"

Amphitrite blushed and couldn't help but grin, biting her lip at the excitement Poseidon was expressing.

"Who do you take me for my king, of course I would remember such a embarrassing day upon your behalf, hehe~"

Once upon a time, amidst the chaos of the Titanomachy, where the Greek gods waged war against their predecessors.

Poseidon had first laid eyes upon Amphitrite here, as Oceanus's daughter and not his wife.

She fought alongside her father, her strength matched only by her elegance and diplomatic prowess.

Intrigued by her beauty and resilience, Poseidon sought to win her affections.

Yet, despite his attempts to charm her, Amphitrite remained steadfast, unmoved by his advances especially after this war.

Remaining loyal to her people and father! Unwilling to concede defeat, Poseidon devised a plan on a way to win her heart somehow.

Even if it took sending forth every sea creature under his command, from the majestic whales, to the playful dolphins.

Poseidon tasked them with persuading Amphitrite to accept his courtship. But unbeknownst to him, Amphitrite saw through his ruse, recognizing his reluctance to approach her directly.

It caused the woman great amusement that he wanted her so badly, but didn't dare set a foot before her.

One fateful day, as the ocean stirred with anticipation, Amphitrite decided to visit Poseidons domain and confronted him.

"Poseidon, god of the sea, why do you hide behind your creations?"

Poseidon, taken aback by her boldness to just enter so uncalled for caused his heart to skip a beat of panic. As he gazed upon her with newfound admiration.

"If your heart truly yearns for mine, then let your words be your own, not whispered through the mouths of creatures~"

The woman winks at him, about to turn away and leave, but Poseidon saw his chance and took it bravely!

"Amphitrite, daughter of Oceanus please wait! Your grace surpasses that of the ocean's depths, your wisdom and words are the most impressive things I've heard..!"

Amphitrite stops in her tracks, her red eyes shimmering with curiosity at what came next. A smug grin formed on her lips.

"Oh, is that so Poseidon~?"

"Yes! It is true..I have sought to win your favor through the sea's creatures, fearing rejection. But now, I stand before you vulnerable and sincere, asking for your hand in marriage.."

Finally the god of the ocean had said it, he had admitted to what had been so clear as running water, his true feelings and intentions for sending every creature in the sea to catch Amphitrite's attention.

"Poseidon," she replied, her voice soft yet resolute.

"Your sincerity brings me more enjoyment than any gesture orchestrated by you to win my heart. I accept your proposal, not because it was convincing but that you finally said it to my face, handsome~"

And so, beneath the starlit canopy of the ocean's depths, Poseidon and Amphitrite soon exchanged vows of love for each other, their union a testament to the enduring power of genuine affection and mutual respect.

As husband and wife, they were now both rulers of the sea and all its creatures, the same ones Poseidon had used to try winning Amphitrite's affection!

[katapotato55]

How to write a good metaphor

yall seemed to like my post on "how to write good horror" so i figured i should make another one of these.

1- do. not. explain. the. metaphor.

don't.

"oh but how will the audience know my deep and meaningful message- "

SOME PEOPLE WONT GET IT. if you explain what you mean then suddenly the metaphor won't be deep anymore. it becomes a generic forced message.

i know you are tempted to make a character infodump about everything, fucking don't.

followup on this:

2- a good metaphor should potentially have multiple interpretations.

"but i don't want people to get the wrong impression of the story!"

then you either need to make damn sure its an elegantly written metaphor, or none at all. the death of the author is the idea that everyone has their own vision of a story they read, rearguards of authors intent. you need to come to terms with this or else you won't improve your writing skills.

you need to trust that your audience is intelligent enough to understand the metaphor on their own without bashing them over the head with it. sometimes people misunderstand meaning, it is a fact of life.

The game little inferno was thought of as a metaphor about pollution, in which later the creators went out to say it was actually about capitalism and wasting your life with things like exploitative mobile games. you just need make it SUBTLE and hope for the best.

3- The story/gameplay/etc should inform the metaphor(and sometimes reference real life examples)

To mention little inferno again, the "you must wait x amount of time for in-game item to be given to you" is a mirror of mobile games in the real world that use timers to leach money from you.

another example: analogue horror.

broken old technology is scary on its own, but many good analogue horror artists tend to use this to the advantage.

analogue horror can be used as a metaphor for dying trends and technology, like how in the 30's through 70's we used asbestos in the walls. Analogue horror makes a great parralel to this idea (see Blue_channel by gooseworx for a good example.) . the audience questions WHY this is on an old CRT tv and not just a smartphone, perhaps to imply this was an event that happened years ago.

undertale is another example, where most RPG's encourage you to fight and to level up, undertale uses this as a simple metaphor about obsessive control and being cruel to get an arbitrary achievement (i recommend the escapist's video on "why i didn't review undertale" on youtube for way better examples)

tldr: a metaphor is stronger if you lightly reference real life occurances and implement your metaphor in the medium presented.

4- the curtains are blue because they are blue.

not everyone is going to understand your metaphor

and not everyone is going to notice every single little metaphor you add to your story.

remember those teachers that would constantly stretch to imply something in a story is a metaphor and that the curtains are blue because of some deep metaphor for death and sadness and shit?

those teachers are full of it. ignore them.

metaphors are allowed to be simple. not every metaphor needs to be a hyper deep depth defying world changing thing. I could even argue a bunch of small metaphors connected to each other can be better than one big metaphor depending on your story.

relax. don't think too much about it because your average audience member won't.

5- study movies, tv, books, games, etc and understand why their metaphors work.

don't fall into that "the curtains are blue because of a deep message" English teacher mindset mind you.

"but how do i tell what is and isn't a metaphor?" you may ask

simple. trust your gut. you won't understand everything you come across but the human brain has a way of telling what is and isn't a metaphor in stories.

(spoiler about bugsnax)

I could argue Bugsnax is a metaphor about drug abuse and addiction. The characters have personality traits commonly associated with people vulnerable to drug addiction. An athlete, a hippy, a married couple going through a rough spot in their marriage with the threat of divorce, a mentally ill person with trauma and paranoia, etc.

It isn't obvious, many people may disagree with me, but you can't deny that there are signs i may be right.

(end of spoiler) the point i am trying to make: don't stretch to find a metaphor when you don't see one. if you are curious google other people's theories and make your own opinion. metaphors are hard and you will learn over time. and finally 6- do not ever do "it was all just a dream" or "the character is secretly in a coma" etc this applies to writing in general but it is still related to metaphors. the only time i have seen this done well is driver san francisco, but what it did right was A- make it so the players can guess ahead of time the mystery, such as the radio saying voices of your character in the hospital, or if you zoomed out you could hear a heart monitor. and B- it didn't completely un-do the entire story. that is my core issue with this trope. it either wastes your time un-doing the entire story readers worked hard to finish, or it is just nonsensical and terrible. "dora the explorer is actually in purgatory!" "spongebob is a metaphor for the 7 deadly sins!" "ash is in a coma and that is why he never ages! " ooooor it is a cartoon and you are forcing meaning that doesn't exist in something that doesn't even imply it. the world being a bit weird is not enough to be a metaphor for anything. If you want to make a good metaphor: do more effort than just slapping a lazy "it was all a coma" thing at the end. Like horror, stuff like this needs to be built up properly. also consider authors intent. I understand death of the author and all of that, but do you really think a retired marine biologist made spongebob to be a complex metaphor about sinners in hell ? (rip Stephen Hillenburg btw. we didn't deserve him.) thank you for reading, hope this helps. and please, learn to understand the tropes of metaphors before you attempt to make the story of a generation. edit- adding a couple more things i forgot 7- "the darkness is going to destroy the land or whatever!" i see this used all the time. spooky wookey dark shadowy bits going to destroy a land and is the hero's generic bad thing to fight. stop it. it is not a deep and complex metaphor about depression or whatever the hell you are on about. its lazy and stupid. 8- a story should stand up on its own regardless if audience members understand the metaphor or not I don't like Gris. it is a very pretty game with lovely visuals But also the entire story is just the main character moping about artistically and shit and go on about how artistically sad and dramatic this all is. if i don't understand the story without understanding the metaphor, then your story and your metaphor sucks. an example of a metaphor done well: spiritfairer without the metaphor, it is a simple game about running a traveling boat. even if you didn't care too much about the deeper meaning it is a cute story and the gameplay is fun (spoiler) if you look deeper, it can also be taken as a metaphor about greif and learning to accept your loved ones will one day die. things like the boat being filled with empty houses you can't remove is a good example of this. (end of spoiler) your story needs to stand up on its own to be good. don't use a metaphor as a crutch.

[just-french-me-up]

(In)somnia Veritas

Fandom : The Sandman (AO3 link) Pairing : Dreamling (Dream x Hob) Rating : G | 1.8k Tags : Angst & Comfort, Retired Dream, Post Wake Fix-it, Established Relationship Summary : No longer Dream of the Endless, Morpheus spends his first night as a human at Hob's, struggling with his new condition. He can not sleep. He will not sleep. How could he, when wakefulness is all he has ever known?

Hob had expected the craziness of it all to keep him awake. The Kindly Ones. The Fates. Daniel Hall. Dream of the Endless, now, for all intents and purposes. It all whirled in his head as he settled in bed, Dream―Morpheus' form next to him, already still from sleep.

Hob's gaze lingered for a moment. He didn't look changed. Even like this, very much asleep and vulnerable, his lips slightly parted in a shallow, slumbering breath, Morpheus still looked like the powerful being he'd been, mere hours ago. Human. It hardly seemed thinkable. Hob had been around for a while, and never had a human ever looked like that. Yet another rule broken tonight, it seemed.

As his head hit the pillow, Hob could feel the heaviness of the day weighing on him, a crown of lead encasing his head, a migraine he resigned himself to fight all night. Instead, sleep took him the second he closed his eyes, his body melting away, as though engulfed by a wave.

The rest was for Dani―Dream of the Endless to know.

It was still dark when sleep loosened its grip around him. Disoriented, Hob rolled drowsily on the mattress, expecting to meet the cold yet substantial shape of Drea―Morpheus' body, yet only found more sheets.

Confused, he cracked an eye open, his hand instinctively patting the empty space, as though he would find Morpheus hidden between the folds somewhere. Nothing. Hob's heart jolted wildly in his chest, pumping bitter bile in his throat. The Fates changed their minds, panic whispered in his ear instantly. They've taken him back. They could not let him be.

Slapped awake, Hob sprung out of bed, blood thrashing in his ears. I've got to get him back, he kept thinking. I must get him back. He did not know where to start, how to work out any kind of summons or strike any sort of supernatural bargain (those had a tendency to find him, not the other way around), but he would figure it out, he had to, he would even call―

His hand still tense on the doorknob, Hob froze in his tracks.

In complete darkness, Morpheus was sitting on his couch, his thighs pressed against his chest, still wearing the old t-shirt Hob had given him as improvised sleepwear. He barely seemed to notice the interruption. He barely seemed to breathe, for that matter. He simply sat there, statuesque, his eyes burning a hole into the opposite wall.

Relief flooded through Hob at the sight, no matter how eerie it felt. He was there. He hadn't gone anywhere. His hand relaxed around the doorknob, though his heartbeat had trouble adjusting.

"You alright?" he asked quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.

There was no acknowledgment of his presence, or answer. Still as a rock, Morpheus kept staring at the wall, his face blank.

Hob dared a few steps closer.

"Can't sleep?" he tried again, cautious not to startle him as he neared the couch. He considered switching on the lights, but quickly decided against it. It felt like one of those matters that were best discussed under the cover of darkness. The constant London light pollution would have to do.

"It's all so... silent."

Hob stilled, caught off guard by the sound of Morpheus' voice. It was still his, undeniably, every note, every inflection, but it missed... something. An edge. A preternatural depth that rose from the dawn of times, when the first being laid down and dreamt on its first night. A human did not need such speech. Like the rest, it now belonged to Daniel.

Hob approached him, electing to sit at the edge of the couch rather than directly next to Morpheus.

"You think this is silent?"

He had grown used to the constant whir of London life, every new century bringing new sounds to the mix, but there was no ignoring the myriad of dogs barking outside, the drunk students talking much louder than social norms would allow during the day, and the ballet of bin lorries and automated street cleaners. Could Morpheus not hear that?

"How can you bear it?"

Slowly, Morpheus' eyes left the wall to settle on Hob, turning to face him. Even with the lack of proper lighting, Hob could see his eyes clearly. Blue, as the day they first met. And full of apprehension about this world he'd never had to navigate this way, even though his pride would not allow him to put it in such words. This, at least, had been his to keep.

Hob stared at Dream, at a loss for words. If this was silence for him, what hellish racket must have been filling his mind until then? How could he bear it?

"It's all I've ever known," he said, settling for something that felt true, in his core. "I'm sorry. I imagine it must be... jarring."

"It is... unnerving," Morpheus nodded slowly, looking down, as though he would not bear to admit it while looking at Hob in the eyes. "Isolating. Empty. And at the same time..."

"Deafening," Hob supplied helpfully. "I understand."

Of course it felt empty, he thought. When one had spent their entire existence with the collective unconscious at their fingertips, dreams and nightmares echoing into their ears every second of every day, being severed from it must feel like having your head dunked into a bucket of water.

"It is no wonder humans devised all matters of utensils to fill the silence," Morpheus mused faintly. "It kept them from going mad."

Them. Humans. Hob wondered how long it would take Morpheus to see himself as one. Never, perhaps. He struggled to see himself as other than what he was, originally. The only difference between them was that Hob had considerably benefited from the change. For Morpheus, this was hardly a step-up. It was free falling.

There was an urge there, lodged deep into Hob's chest, to reach for Morpheus' hand, to hold him close, to offer him all the reassurance he could provide and then more. But Morpheus was not there yet. This human body ached, Hob knew it. It was new, unused, unacclimated to the world it had been thrown into. It looked every way the body he knew, the one he'd touched, loved, held, once. Not quite, though.

"We could buy you a white noise machine," Hob suggested lightly, pushing down the emotion down his throat. He was here, safe, it was all that mattered, in the end. Hob just needed to be patient.

Morpheus frowned, confused.

"It's a box that makes noise. Some people use it to fall asleep."

There was a huff, and the first hint of a smile on Morpheus' lips since their encounter with the Fates.

"Of course you people fashioned a noise machine."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Hob smiled, purposefully stirring the conversation towards a lighter territory. "Whale songs might be just what you need."

"I doubt it will suffice."

In spite of Hob's best efforts, Morpheus' playfulness was short-lived. His face closed again, returning to its persisting melancholy. Hob leant towards him, inching closer, assessing his lover's reaction, any sign of recoiling.

"What's wrong?"

"I fear I may not be... welcome to the Dreaming."

The admission rolled out of him like a wound, bloody and raw, almost shameful. Hob furrowed his brows.

"You're afraid Daniel may not grant you entry?"

"No, I..."

Morpheus gave out a faint frustrated sigh.

"It is no longer mine to rule. Dream of the Endless endures, outside of me. Perhaps I do not... belong there. My presence could be ill-received."

"Love, I―" Hob bit the inside of his cheek, trying to find the words that would hurt the least. "You will have to sleep at some point. That's... I'm sorry, but that's part of... this."

"I know."

In the darkness, Hob could have sworn he saw a tear trail down Morpheus' cheek, glistening in the light of a nearby street lamp.

"I'm sure Daniel will go easy on you. He's a good kid."

Was a good kid, Hob reminded himself. Daniel was an empty name now. There was no more Daniel Hall. Not really. Dream was what remained.

"It is a terrible fate I have delivered onto him," Morpheus countered weakly. "It would be fair on his part to torment me for it."

"Morpheus."

Unable to help himself, Hob rested his hand atop Morpheus'. His skin was warmer than usual, he noticed. Human. Instead of pulling away, Morpheus leant towards him, almost nuzzling against his shoulder.

"I have never fallen asleep," he confided softly. "Never dreamt. Not once."

It had always felt odd to Hob that Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, did not sleep. How scary it must be, for someone who had never done it, to surrender yourself to the hand of another, in your most vulnerable state. Scary enough to leave the bed and avoid sleep altogether.

"I could hold you," Hob suggested gently. "Whatever happens in the Dreaming, it can't harm you here, can it?"

"No. Not really."

Not the most reassuring answer. Nor the clearest. Vagueness was a Morpheus trait, then, not a Dream trait. Good to know.

"I would like that. You, holding me."

"Come here, love."

It happened slowly, inch by inch, but Morpheus nestled into Hob's arms, resting his head in the crook of Hob's neck. Hob could feel his breath blowing against his skin, warm, regular, vital. It was odd, but far from unwelcome. More new than anything else.

"How does it happen? Do I merely close my eyes and wait?"

"Essentially. There is a relaxation aspect to it, though."

Clearly something Morpheus had no experience with either, considering how tense he felt against him.

"You could... breathe with me."

"Breathe with you?"

The suggestion sounded ridiculous in Morpheus' mouth, but Hob was not so easily deterred.

"Yeah, just... just humour me."

It was difficult, at first, for Morpheus to follow the rhythm of Hob's breathing. He was going either too fast or too slow, as though breathing did not come naturally to him, which, in fairness, it did not. It was a conscious effort, every time. After a few minutes of off-beat inhales and exhales, they came to a harmony, their chests rising and falling in tandem. Morpheus had only been pretending to sleep earlier, Hob understood. He could see it now, from the way his face truly relaxed, how his body became more pliant in his arms. If he was not fully asleep, he was getting there, at last.

Hob smiled at the sight, pressing his cheek against his lover's forehead. He could feel Morpheus' pulse where he held him, strong, regular, and undeniably human. Yet no less the man he loved, in spite of the changes.

"Sweet dreams, dear heart."

He raised his eyes to the ceiling, knowing full well there was no one to hear, and no one listening, but he could not help but add:

"Let him rest, will you? I don't think he's ever done that in his life. Might as well start this one with something new."

[strawglicks]

something i really wanna see explored more in TTCC lore overtime is how Cogs. Inc affects the cogs themselves. the individual workers and the company are not one in the same, and i think thats smth that never gets discussed.

while i think the toons are obviously in the right for protecting their lands, i think there are many cases in some of the individual managers where it is clear that this is not a black and white, good and evil issue.

Misty is probably the most obvious case here, being that they dont even have any desire to fight the toons and instead wants to be friends with them. Misty is probably one of the most controversial characters due to this, being that fandom looooves to take morally grey/complex characters and devolve them to either "perfect innocent wittle angel" or "demonic demon from hell", completely erasing the original character's complexities and flaws. the things that makes them..them. the things that make them interesting. and it sucks to watch ppl erase characters like this. (I could do a full analysis on her and probably will but it would be some time i have to refresh myself a bit on her)

That "good vs evil" view that toontown originally built itself on was challenged by TTCC's manager cogs when they were given more depth. and a lot of people who loveee to see things in black and white dont like characters such as misty challenging their point of view. and its saddening.

i personally love to see this built and expanded upon. i LOVE that TTCC focuses on the individual cogs and makes them. well. individuals. rather than focusing on the big bad company as a whole. theres no doubt Cogs Inc is terrible. so imagine how terrible it is for the workers serving said company.

"they applied for the position" yea so like theres a fancy thing called rent. in a world of capitalism like this, cogs need jobs and money to support themselves. (some proof of this being an issue for the cogs is graham freaking out at the end of MOTM when his chances of getting the job are threatened and he says his "life is in jeopardy". NO ONE talks abt this btw.) i think once again this excuse drives from people focusing on the big bad company rather than the individuals. so lets talk about the individuals.

Mary Anna. She applied for the position because she believes toons are the issue, they are the ones polluting the waters and environment, and she has good intentions joining this company and trying to put a stop to them. How he came to this conclusion is unknown, but does Cogs Inc give a shit? No. they care abt hiring employees so they can make money and function as a business. so, knowing mary is wrong, they do nothing to change it and simply use her beliefs to their advantage to keep her hired and doing her job.

You know whats funny? Most of the fandom either flat out ignores him or makes him out to be a complete idiot for thinking toons pollute the environment. Mary may be wrong, but his intentions are proof that cogs are not just. blank slates. And people HATE thinking deeper than just black and white. So they hate cogs like Misty and Mary and put them down for challenging their view.

You could go on and on, case by case. TTCC PURPOSEFULLY builds on these characters so you AVOID that boring black and white view of "toons good, cogs bad". I think the situation is more like "toons good, Cogs Inc. bad".

Companies like this destroy both outsiders and the people within the company. And so far, TTCC has done a good job displaying that. and people choose to ignore it. and it saddens me.

[abrandnewshadow]

2005 mcr newsletter [email] about the founding of skeleton crew

"SKELETON CREW ONLINE

To whom it may concern,

Hello friends, this is Frank from My Chemical Romance. First of all, I would like to thank you all for helping my dreams come true. I cannot express my undying

gratitude for your support of this little band. You have made it possible for four kids from New Jersey and one from Chicago to make a difference in this world. Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the depths of my polluted New Jersey heart, thank you.

Ok, so now that the mushy stuff is out of the way I wanted to tell you about something that's going on in my life. I am clogging up your inbox with junk mail to let you know that I have embarked on a new creative adventure. Over the past few years, I have met lots of extremely talented people… tons of them. The thing is, I have not only become friends with these people, but I have also become a huge fan of the art they create. When that happens, the next logical step is to figure out how to work with them in the best capacity. So I wanted to start a company or companies that would be able to showcase the talents of my friends, my heroes, and the people who inspire me to live each day of my life as if it were my last. What I came up with was Skeleton Crew (skeletoncrewonline.com). Skeleton Crew is a record label, book publisher, and clothing design company. I figured if I was going to do it, I might as well do it all. I have always had a passion for record collecting, especially rare releases. If I'm a fan of the band I have to have it all, it's a sickness really. So Skeleton Crew Records will put out limited edition releases, colored vinyl, picture discs, and things I would want as a record collector. Basically whatever the band wants to do, we will put out. Some of the bands you might have heard of, some of the bands you might not have. The one thing they will all have in common is that I like them, which means they are worth checking out. (I have wanted to start a record label of my own for years, I'm really excited.)

Skeleton Crew Publications will release books written or illustrated by musicians, artists, athletes, and just all around interesting people who have something to say. I want to create a different forum where art and ideas can be presented. With media some of these artists have not experimented with or explored yet. I think this division of Skeleton Crew is the most interesting, and the one to definitely keep your eye on. We will not censor any of the artists, they will have full reign over what they create. (Again the only thing the authors may have in common, is that I am a fan.)

Last, but not least, is Skeleton Crew Clothing. This is not a t-shirt company! I can type it again if you didn't read it the first time…this is not a t-shirt company. I have nothing against t-shirts, some of my best friends wear them, and I enjoy them as well. All I'm trying to say is that Skeleton Crew is a clothing design company; we are in the process of developing a fall/winter line that will involve more than just screen printed t-shirts. You will be able to wear nothing but Skeleton Crew products for weeks straight to any occasion or destination and never think twice about whether your uniform is comfortable, appropriate, or fashionable. The designs are rad, I must say so myself. There are teasers on the website for you right now, but we'll keep you in anticipation of the clothes for a little bit longer.

This is a business that has a greater good in mind, Skeleton Crew will donate a portion of all profits to different charitable organizations, decided upon by the artists we work with. I have a feeling you guys are gonna enjoy what we come up with; at least I hope you do. Skeleton Crew will have a booth on upcoming Warped Tour dates on the East coast. I will drop you guys a short email letting you know when exactly that will be.

Until then, go to the site, skeletoncrewonline.com, you can email us for additional information. So far it's been really fun and hard just developing this project, I can't wait to get things rolling and hear what you guys think. I created Skeleton Crew from my heart and with my friends so I hope you check it out. Thanks for reading, I'll see you at the show.

keep the faith - frank m.c.r. & s.c.."

posted by bringyrbullets on lj

[mybeingthere]

JAN C SCHLEGEL -

OF ALIENS, MERMAIDS AND MEDUSAS

Platinum Prints, limited edition of 5 in the size of 56x76cm (Arches Platinum Rag).

A folio of 12 plates (plus cover page) is available as limited edition of 3

The series „of Aliens, Mermaids and Medusas" was inspired by imagination itself.

Today it seems as if its influence on people is losing its power because we begin to forget or stop noticing how imagination can change our lives. It is the way people approach all kinds of problems with creativity.

We live in a time of crisis when everything in the world has been turned upside down by global warming, ocean pollution, the coronavirus pandemic, and wars (just to mention a few). We have to deal with everyday problems, and this is quite difficult in a state of anxiety. In addition, we are attacked by negative news, and in this information noise, the voice of our imagination that helps us to cope mentally is drowned out.

We do not mean an escape from reality to completely lose touch with it, but a deeper dive into your inner world, where the answers to all questions lie. The ability to imagine, to think outside the box, encourages us to change for the better.

How long ago have you been peering into quirky, chaotic at first glance patterns to discern unusual images in them? How long ago have you laid with a friend on the grass, looking up at the sky and saying, "That cloud looks like a jumping tiger!"? Jan C Schlegel's series of photographs will help you revive your imagination. Just take a closer look at the most primitive, yet incredibly complex creatures: jellyfish.

Jellyfish appeared long before the dinosaurs. They inhabited the ocean 500-700 million years ago, at the dawn of life on Earth. They have no blood, bones or brain, but thanks to evolution, these organisms have developed very cunning methods of adaptation, some secrets of which scientists have not yet managed to unravel. Bizarre camouflage is the most understandable means of adaptation. But there are many unsolved mysteries. Why would a sea creature without a brain need eyes? How can some individuals transform from adult jellyfish to polyps without any limitations, thereby repeating the life cycle and providing themselves with actual immortality?

To date, scientists have described nearly 3,200 species of jellyfish, and the number is only growing every year. The in-depth study of jellyfish has made it possible to advance in solving the ecological problem of plastic emissions into the ocean. Geneticists are grappling with the question of immortality and suggest that the very same immortal jellyfish will help them get a little closer to answering this important question.

It was these amazing, little-studied creatures that attracted the attention of Jan C Schlegel, and he has attempted to show them from a different perspective. The project was photographed in Germany, at the artist’s house, and the Two Oceans Aquarium in Cape Town, South Africa.

The jellyfish placed in large aquariums moved chaotically, and their movements were meditative and calming. These are the moments when the magic of the imagination happens. The relaxed mind is attuned to observation. The smooth movements of the jellyfish seemed to show some pictures, and Jan only had to follow them and catch the moment.

Each person has their own unique experience, so we guess you'll see something of your own. You can look at the jellyfish silhouette as a whole or you can gaze at a particular element. You can focus on the pattern of the tentacles or the unusual fibers that make up the jellyfish's pileus. All of Jan's photos are chosen so that with a little effort you can see something really unexpected. Just take a closer look.

Let's consider one example that might help you engage your imagination at Jan C Schlegel's series. The box jellyfish, considered one of the most dangerous creatures on Earth, has another name: the sea wasp. Its venom can kill an adult in a few minutes if the victim is not treated in time. And yet in the photo from the series „of Aliens, Mermaids and Medusas“ she appears in a slightly different guise, more peaceful. The pattern of her head resembles the gaze of an elephant. As soon as you notice this look, your imagination will add the recognizable elephant skin texture and it will be very hard to get rid of this image, it will stay in your memory for a long time.

There is no point in telling what Jan l saw in all these amazing creatures. We'll just ask a few guiding questions to stimulate your imagination. Could you see a single jellyfish as a forest on a lonely planet? Would you have thought of the idea that a close friendship might develop between a jellyfish and a fish? Or maybe some picture reminded you of your childhood fears when you didn't want to get out from under the covers, being afraid of the monster under the bed? Would you find a woman's profile in one of Jan C Schlegel's works? As you look at the dancing tentacles, will you hear a melody dear to your heart?

The Series is dedicated to Ksenia Chapkayeva who also wrote this introduction. Her inspiration, encouragement and support were vital to see the series realized.

[scoundrels-in-love]

Between having been really into mermaids and underwater kingdoms as a concept during my childhood and the absolutely hauntingly stunning horror movie sequence where you root for the sirens introduction to Talokan, it's not really any surprise that I became instantly and deeply fascinated with this nation and its' people.

Like, there is so much I kept thinking about during the movie and even now, a whole day later. This great post by @thebctman raised even more that I hadn't gotten to.

Until the call to arms scene, I assumed that they cannot speak under the water, so I was quite stunned at the scene. But it does make me wonder just how much of importance does body language carry in Talokanian society! And how hard it might have been to preserve their native language, especially before the establishing of the cave sanctuary(ies).

And I have to think for how long Namor was only one who could only briefly exit the water, how, before the invention of water masks, there could be no sanctuary and he would be the only one wandering the caves. Pushed into role and revered as the leader from birth, fitting in with none of them.

The fact they ended up building this sanctuary and filling it to the brim with parts of their cultures they couldn't practice under the water - like the murals. How they must have lost their national cuisine, without access to ingredients or ways to practice it - or even consume, since they cannot eat above the water. I have no idea how much jade deposits are under water, but perhaps even that became a scarce material.

It makes me think of Namor's speech the first time he meets with Queen Ramonda and Shuri - about how clean and unharmed the land is and how much Wakanda's people have not had to change and compromise who they are, their culture, just to continue to exist. Though Talokan is their new land, it is still an exile. Exile deep into the cold waters that have slowly been poisoned and polluted by people.

Somehow, they've managed to befriend sea animals and even communicate with them (which leads back to my point about non-verbal communication under the water, maybe they quite literally can emit sounds similar to dolphins or whales), there is no way that they do not know the absolute devastation done to the oceans, that it has not impacted them, that Namor or his people haven't personally known whales that have been killed by whalers.

And yes, I do wonder about the pressure - how fast can they raise and lower themselves in these depths, without reprecussions, and just how damn fast can they travel because they seem to traverse incredible distances so very swiftly. One moment they're near USA, then Namor can respond to Queen Ramonda's call very swiftly. Like, just how fast can they all swim, without exhaustion?? Fascinating.

I know most of these things will never be answered, if any at all, but a lot of them are just lot of feelings about things in the subtext and I'm gonna go drown in those kthxbye.

[belaephemeral]

Nilotpala Lotus (Vulpes Zerda)

Pairings: Tighnari x Reader (gender-neutral), Lisa Minci & Reader (platonic), brief Albedo & Reader (platonic)

Word count: 6500

You pull me in like gravity (ground me with your affections)

Series summary: They each have their own way of showcasing their love for you - from the way they embrace you with the distinct form of passion only they could hold, to the gestures that express their affections that leave you to fall ever more inextricably in love with them. In particular, you savour the way they kiss you and the unspoken message of their endearment towards you. It’s like gravity, pulling you once again to them, grounding you to this mortal world; each touch spirals into something more and you eagerly await the paths they forge with you alongside them.

Parts: Nilotpala Lotus (Vulpes Zerda) (current), Glaze Lily (Monoceros Caeli) (coming soon), Qingxin (Crista Doloris) (coming soon), Cor Lapis (Lapis Dei) (coming soon)

Author’s Note: Taking a break from revision to finish this piece that I drafted quite a long time ago. This piece was originally part of a headcanon about how different Genshin characters would kiss you but I got a bit carried away (sorry, I can’t help it ;u;). Since they’re all based on the same prompt/idea, I’ll be making this into a small series. Each narrative develops in different ways - I tried to make the stories parallel each other and have a common theme/characteristic (I hope you can spot it!). Feel free to recommend characters for this series.

You’re well aware of the many capabilities the Chief Officer of the Forest Rangers possesses. From the immaculate precision and accuracy he demonstrates with a bow, the immense intellect and quick wit he holds (which certainly leaves you astounded after intently listening to every single one of his impassioned lectures), to the admirable tenacity he holds to protect Sumeru’s vibrant flora and its vital ecosystem. 

You are ever so intimately familiar with his many abilities: him being a doting, affectionate and endearing husband is yet another skill he has recently acquired. You relish in the air of domesticity that envelops each room of your quaint shared abode. Crisp, white parchment paper and scrawls of his hurried yet distinct cursive handwriting are a familiar sight. As you wake to greet another day in the Avidya Forest and flit from room to room for your habitual morning rituals, a gentle smile spills onto your face. Carefully, you hold the message closer to your form as your thumb tenderly brushes over his penned words and idly traces every undulation the pressure of his pen makes against the thin paper. Unfailingly, he leaves messages for you before he departs from the safety of your home and your presence to fulfil his responsibilities as a Forest Watcher. 

‘Good morning, my padisarah. 

I hope you’ve slept well and are well-rested to face yet another eventful day. 

Although I would have liked to awake once again in the warmth of your embrace, I’ve had to unfortunately leave before we could have shared this fine morning together. Recently, there has been increased reports of disturbances around the Divine Tree and some of the Forest Rangers have sighted perpetrators polluting the waters below. 

At dawn, I will embark to the Chinvat Ravine with the others to resolve these issues. I will return to you by sundown. 

It has gotten warmer lately, so please make sure that you take care of health once you begin researching today. Always be aware and pay close attention to your safety whilst exploring. Even if your capabilities mean that this isn’t much of a concern for you, I want to remind you to be cautious - I would hate to not be able to protect you if you ever injured yourself in the depths of the Forest. 

The sunny weather we’re having nowadays is quite pleasant - what do you think about trekking to our favourite spot at Mawtimya Forest? It would be nice to bask in the warm sunshine. We could bring along a few dishes and enjoy the scenery once again. I promise I won’t fall asleep! However, your lap is the perfect place for a midday snooze: who could blame me?

...Oh, look at me, rambling on again. Please bear with me for a little longer, I’m almost done writing. 

I await to return to you, my padisarah; you may not know how much you are a blessing to me. We shall meet again under the setting sun and the rising moon. 

Forever yours, 

Tighnari’

Every time he returns, he fills the empty space you both inhabit with his twinkling laughter, his quick-witted quips and his unique vulpine mannerisms. In every instance, he’s instinctively wrapped his tail around your waist, slightly ever so raised and turned his fluffy ears in elation, and surreptitiously scent-marked you with each nuzzle of his face against the hollow of your neck. Whilst he nestles his fatigued figure into your chest, you’re reminded of each and every one of his endearing characteristics. Each of which a separate reason you’ve fallen so irrevocably and absolutely in love with him. 

Easily, you fall into a routine with him. From the way you carefully attached his signature earrings and fasten his distinct viridian, flowing half-cape to his right shoulder. He returns the gesture by fastening the buttons of your shirt and pining onto you the gold brooch he gifted you on your second anniversary. Its design is that of the Kalpalata Lotus he fondly remembers you were enamoured with when you both trekked to the Lokapala Jungle, gazing upon the surreal, gargantuan, fluorescent structures there. He was astounded when you began to scale the rocky cliffs to admire its beauty and brought one of the delicate and exquisite flowers back to him. It’s a memory that’s forever ingrained in his mind: the moment you grasped his hand for them to join yours in gently holding the Kalpalata Lotus that glowed under the blanket of stars laid out across the sky. 

He felt something - something so subtle he otherwise may not have noticed it without his adept perceptive ability and heightened vulpine instincts. A potent energy courses through the lotus that rests where your digits and his gloved fingers conjoin and it courses through him. A tingling sensation assimilates through his skin and infiltrates deeper within him - gradually spreading what feels like newfound vitality through each limb and expanse of muscle. 

Viscerally, he feels a sigh leave him - like he’s finally at ease, body relaxing and eyelids fluttering as he relents against the sudden wave of fatigue. Unbeknownst to the Forest Watcher, his lithe body slowly sways and collapses into you. It feels as though his mind surrenders to the way the pain embedded into his left shoulder from last week’s attack and the dull aches from his fresh bruises dissipate as a healing glow permeates through every inch of his body. The last he remembers is your tender caress over his drooped ears and foreign words that fall from your lips - a strange incantation he doesn’t remember hearing nor reading from your plethora of alchemy books. Although his wonder as to where you could have learnt such an impressive feat dissolves as the view before him vanishes into a blissful abyss as he feels his weight being placed securely in your firm hold. The rhythmic crunch of the grass beneath your feet, the reverberating chirps of cicadas and the sonorous buzz of fireflies is a symphony that welcomes him as he descends into sleep. 

____

Everyday with you is a blessing; it’s ever so easy to fall into a routine with you by his side. It’s exactly because you’ve fallen into this pattern, a waltz you share as you dance around each other to reach for your desired items or complete mundane tasks around your home. A comfortable schedule of rising at early daybreak, of wistful farewells and loving welcome homes. It is because of this routine you’ve settled into that it is a surprise that this has to temporarily come to an end. It was unexpected when a letter sealed with the Knights of Favonius sigil was delivered to your doorstep. It’s even more staggering when you learn it was from an old acquaintance from your alma mater and fellow colleague at Spantamad, requesting your assistance at the city of Mondstadt. Although the idea of reuniting with the talented sorceress is delightful, the thought of leaving your partner saddles you with an uneasy bout of despondency.  

Despite your concerns, Tighnari’s altruistic and compassionate nature shines through. He puts your worrisome mind at rest through kind and genuine reassurances, regaling of how he’d faithfully protect your cosy dwelling in your absence and consoles your apprehension by promising he won’t encounter any trouble whilst you’re gone. What drastic or lethal could possibly occur during the duration of your visit to the City of Freedom? 

What’s more is that he’s well aware of your boundless curiosity, your inquisitive nature, and your insatiable desire to discover new things. Experiencing the vast plains of Mondstadt and traversing through its rocky and breathtaking vistas should quench your eagerness to explore unfamiliar, foreign terrain. Of course, he’ll miss you, agonisingly so, but if it’s for you - he’d sacrifice anything for you - be it his soul, his time or his own wishes so you’d be able to fulfil your own. 

On the day of your departure, his send-off takes noticeably longer than what he claims it would would have taken. The first thing on his agenda is presenting you with a small jute sachet of crushed herbs, Nilotpala Lotus petals and an assortment of flower buds just in case you have a headache. Regardless of the medicinal remedies he preaches that they hold, you notice the hint of spice and the soothing floral fragrance - it’s his unmistakable scent and this pouch is definitely an indirect token to remind you of him during your travels. 

Next, he presents a fresh leather-bound journal to you. He explains that it’s for you to write about your experiences but in a small case you receive alongside it, filled to the brim with translucent sheets, intricate instruments and a wooden block, you know he’s hoping that his fascination with botany is finally rubbing off on you. You know he’s hoping that you’ll press flowers into the margins of each page, a small souvenir for each place that you traverse. 

“If you do find fallen leaves or other plants, just press them between some dry sheets of paper. You’ll be able to make quite an attractive and handy bookmark out of them. I’ve also heard that Cecilias and Small Lamp Grass are in bloom this season - they would make fascinating biological specimens to examine or decorative pieces to create. They’re incredibly versatile.” Stifling a laugh with the back of your hand as Tighnari’s tail gleefully swishes side to side upon discussing his favourite past time, the vulpine male glares at your teasing gaze and droops his ears in displeasure. You give into his whims - encircling your arms around his nimble frame and snuggling into soft fabric of his navy hoodie.

Of course, watching you depart from Avidya Forest is no easy task for Tighnari. Trying to delay your inevitable leave, he tries to distract you from noticing how many minutes go by or how the sun has already reached the peak of the sky when it was just dawn a few minutes (maybe hours ago). He attempts to mask his desperation and reluctance through talking, a tried and true strategy that will allow him to remain with you just a second longer. His cogent lectures and words of caution are readily accepted and you don’t notice how the clock’s hands have already moved past your designated departure time. He’s panicking but he doesn’t want you to see. He doesn’t want you to see that his entire being glows in your presence and the fear that this will vanish once you aren’t by his side. It’s because he knows how this trip is important to you. 

It’s part of his nature to put others before himself, so once again he’ll do the same for his beloved. The one eternally by his side and permanently resides in his heart regardless of the distance between you. So, he hesitantly concludes his speech. Now, he has to let you go.

Sometimes you think you know better than him. Especially when it comes to what he deserves and what he can choose to do with you. Truly, as someone so selfless and constantly worrying about other people’s wellbeing, you want him to be more selfish with you. You want him to place more emphasis on his feelings and his desires in your relationship. So, as you see his self-sacrifing nature resurface in this moment, you plant supple kisses on the apples of his cheeks and the corner of his mouth, momentarily stupefying him and relishing in the way he unconsciously croons at your actions.

In return, draws you closer to him, innocently nuzzling the tip of your nose with his and grounding himself with your presence before you drift away and what he fears is like losing his centre of gravity. The close proximity between you two grants him a clear view of the flush that spreads onto your cheeks and of the exquisite way your vibrant eyes dilate at his loving gaze. “My padisarah,” he steadily breathes out, chest pressed against your own, arms enclosed around your figure and shimmering verdant pupils passing fleeting glances to your cupid’s bow and what lays beneath. “I can’t believe I almost forgot to give you the most important thing.” 

His mouth descends onto yours and you gasp at the way his fangs trace your bottom lip and nibbles onto it. As he pulls away, he revels in your dazed look. He wants you to feel how infatuated your touch leaves him. He wants to express how dumbfounded he feels in your embrace. And you do. He’s downright irresistible. 

His mischievous antics have doused you in a honey-like stupor as you swiftly grasp his collar and bring him closer, more so than he already is. His lips are still delectable and sweet with the Zaytun Peaches you shared with him earlier. 

Losing yourself in his hold, you squeeze him against your chest, flustering him with the rapid pounding of your heartbeat. Content in your hold, you can feel his mouth forming a smile against your lips. However, the male seems to have something else on his mind. Briskly, he breaks away from you to part his lips and plunges towards the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Daringly, a sharp suck astounds you as he latches onto the area that he knows is your sensitive spot, carefully brushing his canines against your supple skin. He loves the way your pulse stutters and comes to life under his lips; he shudders at the way your hand reflexively grips his waist, moving downwards to massage nonsensical patterns into the curve of his hip, and inwardly spurs him on to leave one last message against your skin before you leave. 

Reluctantly, and biting back the groan that eagerly wants to escape your mouth, you lightly push his chest. “Stop, ‘Nari,” you slur, drunken off his intoxicating touch, “I need to start my journey before the sun sets.” Chuckling at the way he relents despite your attempts to resist his persistent advances, you realise you are no better than him. Regardless of your resistance, your body betrays you and melts underneath the fangs that desire to spell out his name down the length of your neck. “You little minx,” you huff, half-exasperated and half-determined to quell the flourishing bud his embrace plants into the core of your being, “If you continue with this, it might be absolutely hard for me to ever leave you, my blossom.”

Resolutely, you detangle his body from yours, placing an appropriate distance between the both of you. You wistfully smile at the whine that tumbles from his lips and the sheen of glaze that momentarily eclipse over his vibrant burnt sienna and viridescent orbs. At an attempt to sober him up, you slide your hands to his chin and cup them gingerly, planting a chaste kiss on his forehead. Adorably, he shifts his gaze from yours, huffing both in frustration and embarrassment. Frustrated that you would tempt him so and embarrassed that he unravelled himself in such an carnal way, surrending himself temporarily to his innate, animalistic, vulpine instincts. Peering at the light red bruises decorating the nape of your neck and clavicle, he exhales in annoyance at how you stopped him from marking you once again. 

Pettily, he sharply turns his head away from you as you shoot him a teasing smirk and delivers his signature sidelong glance that expresses his contempt, displeasure and so much more. His pouty exterior falls as after chuckling at his antics, you slowly make your way to the door to collect your belongings. 

Turning back to him, you beckon him into your arms for one last chaste and longing hug. You bury your nose into his navy hair, trying to ignore the way your chest feels as though its being compressed by an incredible weight and how your eyes fervidly burn with unshed tears. Tighnari’s keen senses pick up on the way your heart lurches. To console you, he rubs your back soothingly, and his tail lovingly and warmly curls around your waist. He knows rather too well what wishing someone farewell feels like - how you might shatter once they leave your view forever, how you may find yourself floundering in their absence, or how the distance extinguishes any vestiges of warm within your heart.

However, he knows better, he knows you better. You won’t falter no matter the circumstance, you will perserve and he knows you’ll bloom even if he won’t be able to see you. In a few months, you’ll return to him, return to this humble and cosy abode you share, return to this life you’ve built together. He’s certain of it. He only needs to let you go for a while and before you or him realise, you’ll both be back to where you belong, to where your were always meant to be. 

Eventually, he takes a step back, wiping a stray tear off of your face with the pad of his thumb. Willing a wistful beam, you whisper, worried that your chest will heave and your breath hitch with the weight of melancholy that bears onto you: “I’ll see you soon, my love. Don’t miss me too much, okay?” 

“Of course, my padisarah. I’ll be waiting for your letters. Have a safe journey and always know that my heart travels with you.”

____

“I’m so sorry Lisa,” you splutter, stumbling as you weave through stray piles of books, hurriedly shrugging on your coat and gathering your loose papers off the antique mahogany table. 

“Do be careful, darling, I haven’t sorted through those titles yet,” she responds, a knowing smile on her face as she languidly watches you frantically dart around the room. She’s rarely seen you so frantic and she would have never expected you to lose your composure so quickly. “The last thing we need is for you to be injured. We wouldn’t want your dear husband seeing you in such a state would we now?”

Your trip to the Mondstadt was rather eventful to say the least. Initially you expected the lethargic librarian had required your assistance for something urgent - certainly it must have been important for her to send such a vaguely worded letter to your doorstep? However, it turns out she merely wanted to bask in your companionship once again and needed someone she could confide in during this particularly busy period for the Knights of Favonius. What exactly brought you here may have been the nostalgia (that much you could discern as she began gushing about her fond memories of being your roommate and that sneaky comment about her results always beating yours in each module despite your diligent nature and her indolent disposition - a statement that was definitely not needed as you shot a glare at the tittering brunette) or it could have been the bundles of Sumeru Roses she specifically requested and emphasised in the postscript of her message. 

You’re considering it’s possibly the latter as you periodically pick up the sound of her cup being picked up and placed down onto the matching floral decorative saucer you’ve temporarily lent to her. The scent of Sumeru Rose and Harra Fruit you’ve blended into her tea wafts throughout the library as you sit across the Chief Alchemist. Albedo ecstatically reads your ongoing research into medicinal alchemy, sifting through beautifully illustrated diagrams depicting your various experiments, admiring the dried Viparyas and Dream Flowers you’ve preserved and the little notes you leave next to them (although there also seems to be other sentences scrawled in a cursive script underneath your handwriting), and analysing your extraction of different compounds and materials for prolonging life and revitalisation. Flattered by his words of praise and wonder, you express your awe on his experimentation of utilising alchemy to bloom an other-worldy seed, the intricacy and accuracy of expertly rendered objects and stages of investigation (the style is oddly familiar to the cover of some books published in Liyue that Tighnari owns), and the graphite sketches of his laboratory and the snowscape of Dragonspine Mountain. 

“It must be exhilarating to be able to venture out to many areas in Sumeru to conduct your research. It’s very much the same for me up on Dragonspine. To go out into the world and investigate, turning the ‘unknown’ into the ‘known’, that is the true raison d'etre of us alchemists… Ah, it’s truly an invigorating feeling.” The blond sighs contentedly and then suggests, “Seeing as to how adept you are with drawing, how about one day joining me to sketch the scenic views of Starsnatch Cliff?” Beaming at his words, you nod in affirmation: “I’d love to join you! It would be a perfect chance for me to showcase the beauty of Mondstadt to Tighnari.”

In response to your excited reply, he chuckles and then places a hand on his chin as he ponders pensively: “From what you’ve told me about him, your husband sounds like a truly exceptional man. It would be a pleasure if I could meet him in the near future.”

Slowly, time passed between the two of you. As the librarian took her daily afternoon nap, the amiable chatter between two fellow alchemists murmured throughout the expansive library and discussed a plethora of topics as the wax candles began to burn and diminish infront of them. 

In between documenting your experiences to your beloved, traversing the diverse plains of Mondstadt and pressing flowers into the journal Tighnari gifted you, Lisa uncharacteristically makes it a point for you to visit her companions and most importantly, her dear mentee, Razor.

Gently raising the teapot filled with lilac Sumeru Rose petals, you began to pour the fresh brew into a small flask as per Lisa’s request. You were rather elated as she recounted how she wished for her beloved pupil to try her favourite blend of tea when studying at the Akademiya. With her languorous attitude, you wouldn’t have guessed she was a capable and competent teacher. For her to have someone regard her as part of his Lupical fills you with a sense of warmth as it seems that carefree, frivolous roommate of yours has slowly matured and has yet another person she can dedicate herself to. The sudden onslaught of sentimentality makes you wonder of the family you could have with your spouse back in Avidya Forest (although this will come in due time and he’s certainly assured you that you’re welcome to take your time, you might want to take him up on his offer soon).

An unexpected crash wrenches you out of your dreamy reverie and jolts your entire being. The teapot lurches toward and the steaming liquid scorches the back of your hand. Hissing in pain, you soothe the sting by murmuring a brief incantation, the words embossing themselves into your flesh and weaving throughout the mark. Swiftly, you set down the items to rush over to the source of the strident sound. 

Witnessing the brunette crumpled on the herringbone wooden floors, you drop to your knees to hold onto her heaving form. As you do so, you’re careful of the fallen stack of thick tomes, the shards of broken porcelain scattered next to her and the moist soil spilled around her. Her hands which previously found purchase on the ledge of the bookshelf now finds themselves against your chest as she fists the material of your shirt. Panting, her forehead rests against your clavicle as she desperately refills her lungs with air only for it to be quickly forced out of her. 

Urgently, you bring her fully into your grasp. Encircling your arms around her figure, your index finger inscribes foreign symbols between the peaks of her shoulders. They soon glow with a luminous white as it sinks into her and a mirrored version of your writing engraves itself into your back. 

Suddenly, you can feel a numbing prickling sensation around the corners of your heart, the organ relentlessly pounding painfully against your ribcage and each inhale feels incredibly onerous. However, you resist against the agonising sensation to quell the embers that threaten to consume your life-force and the thick black tar that attempts to drown every ounce of your being. Methodically, you inhale and exhale, a rhythm that Lisa follows, and you fervently whisper strings of conjurations against the crown of her head. 

The time it takes for the pain to subside feels like hours. You don’t know whether it’s completely vanished as it feels as though it remains heavy within your chest and stubbornly clings onto you despite your various attempts to rid it. “You’ve never used alchemy in such a way,” she murmurs dolefully, a distant look in her emerald orbs. And when she speaks your name, you freeze: “I don’t believe you’ve been telling me the whole truth this entire time. But then again, there has been something I’ve been hiding from you as well.”

It astounds you how Lisa’s nonchalant and easy-going exterior doesn’t falter, not even after she told you of the curse that plagues her body; her years slowly depleting before her eyes and a pre-mature demise she has no choice but to helplessly give into. You’re not sure of what she thinks of your confession as to the source of your powers nor the minuscule pawn that endows you with the faculties that assist in your alchemy and elemental abilities. Instead, you’re left to grapple with the revelations you’ve encountered today as the librarian chides her young pupil and ushers him towards you. Cheerily, she exclaims: “Come on over here Razor, that's it, good boy!” she places her hands on her hips before continuing: ”Let's do some combat practice — I've found you the perfect partner. Hey! Come back!”

The silver-haired male was rather interesting to say the least. Well, that was expected considering his teacher. You were thoroughly impressed by his fighting capabilities and his exceptional use of his Electro vision. It was incredibly endearing to see him so eager to demonstrate the results of Lisa’s teaching by taking you to various mountains and telling you about the basic properties of their local plants and fruits. Intently, you listened to him as your trio eventually settled on a field to drink your rose blend. Whilst indulging in Wolfhooks and Sunsettias, you taught him how to press the Windwheel Asters he collected to create a present for his Lupical. 

Sparing a glance at the brunette dozing against next to you, you understand her lethargic nature. If you were in her circumstances, you would be fully dedicating yourself to your work and efficiently using the time you had left to discover more of this mortal world. However, that’s the attitude you’ve developed from your time in the Akademiya. You could understand how the ephemerality of the time she has remaining means that it may be better spent in tranquil afternoons, simple routines and being around those she loves. 

Gazing towards the glaring sun, you wonder what your husband could be doing as you relish in this quiet evening. Unbeknownst to you, an acute sense of impending turmoil and the ever present feeling that chaos is bound to spill over lingers in his mind after the events that have unfolded in Sumeru over the past few days. His anxiety grows as he watches the departing figure of The Doctor, his ambiguous words and thinly veiled threat setting him on edge, and uncertain to the trick up his sleeve he’s yet to unveil. 

____

“I’m so sorry Lisa,” you splutter as the worry gnawing at the pit of your stomach is suddenly absolutely unbearable and threatens to consume you whole. The overflow urges you to return to him. It may have been the diminishing number of letters, the lack of updates from Collei on the status of the Avidya Forest and her training, and the fact that the sigil you’ve embedded into your wedding ring sears against the skin of your ring finger, writing a message of warming that spirals down the length of your digit and across your palm. At the sight of it, your fear boils over the precipice and you’ve decided to ensure nothing happens to your beloved and your companions in Sumeru.

Granting Lisa one last farewell, you burst through the doors of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. The golden band you adorn tingles, glimmering with a radiant light of viridian and translucent white. You extend your left hand to view the ivy-like incantations that spread along the expanse of your arm. Swiftly, you write the script embedded into your skin into harsh gusts of wind that fervently blow past you. Once the symbols are aligned and placed in their appropriate positions, you enfuse your sword with elemental energy, closing your eyes and deftly slice through them.

A clank of metal and the sharp, reverberating sound of blades colliding resound in your ears as you open your optics and glare at the Fatui Pyro Agent before you. Before you could counter his incoming strike, from behind you, you hear a swift ‘ffwhip’ as an arrow embued with Dendro flies past you, precisely lodging itself into his chest and forcefully knocking him back a few meters.

Tighnari pants, grateful to whoever parried the attack for him. However, he does a double take, recognising that distinct stance, the remnants of great ancient power, and your familiar fragrance. “My padisarah,” he exhales breathlessly, lowering his bow, genuinely bewildered by your unexpected entrance. Holding your blade upright, you peer over your shoulder to shoot Tighnari a smirk, disguising the anguish you felt prior and the relief that he’s safe and next to you once again: “Hello, my love, did you miss me?” 

____

“You’re so stubborn.” 

The exasperated statement is the first thing he hears as he stirs awake. The warm cloth resting against his forehead is soon replaced with a damp one, easing the dull throbbing rattling each corner and crevice of his mind. Next to him, the bed dips, and the unknown figure leans over to examine his injured body. Pulling himself from the depths of his dreamless sleep and adjusting his eyes to the blinding light that aggressively beams down on him, he groans. 

Upon awaking, he is starkly reminded of how absolutely exhausted he is: his body feels like lead, his limbs weary and sluggish, and there’s a persistent electric buzz that stings his skin. Gathering the last vestiges of his strength, he wills himself to rise. But just as he pushes against his elbows to lift his head and shoulders off the plush bed beneath him, two palms firmly press against his chest, which he now realises is bare, and steadily guides him back to his original reclined position. 

“I wouldn’t do anything hasty right now.” The fuzzy shapes amalgamate to form your beautiful, but extremely vexed, visage. You cross your arms and shoot a pointed look at the male: “Would it kill you to think about yourself for once? For such a talented student of the Amurta, you really are foolish sometimes.”

“Good morning, my love,” he whispers lackadaisically. 

“I’m still mad at you Tighnari.” Ouch, he’s on first name basis now. “I know that your patients are important to you but you need to tend to your injuries first. Do you know how long it took me to even get around to treating your wounds? Normal people don’t get struck by lightning and then just walk it off. Normal people don’t push themselves to the brink. I was so worried when you collapsed. With the lightning strike and the other injuries your body sustained, you were out for a few days.”

You exhale a shaky breath, “Please don’t scare me like that again. I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t so lucky this time. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” As you cup his cheek with your palm, your sleeves shift ever so slightly and he catches the foreign symbols sprawling down your arm, matching the lightning marks on his body. 

Silently, you settle next to him on the bed, laying your head next to him. He slowly regains his strength, just enough to pull his body closer to yours and gently rests himself against your chest. He preens contentedly as you weave your fingers through the strands of his two-toned hair. 

“I’m so sorry, my padisarah,” the vulpine morosely mumbles into your collarbone, listening to the metronome of your heartbeat. “I didn’t mean to worry you. Honestly, I thought it wasn’t too bad, at first, but I guess I should know my limits better than anyone.” Placing a chaste peck against your jaw, he whispers, “Thank you for saving me. You seem to always know whenever I’m in trouble. Should I start calling you my guardian angel? It seems like a rather fitting title for the celestial beauty that appears before me whenever I’m in a bind.”

Wistfully, you think of the chipped pawn that flickers between your fingers before it dematerialises into tiny shards of ivory light. But a smile eventually finds itself on your face as you glance at your husband, alive and safe, and back to you, back in your arms and in your embrace where destiny has decided preordained he will be. Somewhere that in the centuries you’ve roamed the mortal plane of Tevyat, you feel that maybe fate has blessed you with and is finally giving worth to your various sacrifices. 

You release a huff, “I know that you were concerned about Haypasia but please try to take care of yourself more in the future - I’m going to hold you to that. Anyways, if I was your guardian angel, you still probably wouldn’t listen to me. I might as well become your devil - then it would in character for me to punish you whenever you go against my words. How does that sound, my little darling?”

Guffawing, Tighnari snidely comments: “You, a devil? Oh, you’re being delusional, that definitely doesn’t suit you. You’re too sincere and benevolent for your own good - those two ideas are not compatible with one another - they’re like oil and water. Besides if you ever wanted to punish me,” he pauses, punctuating his statement with a light peck on the tip of your nose, peering into your eyes teasingly: “you’d have to catch me first.”

He catches a tsk leave your mouth as you rise from the bed. Soon, he registers the way the pillow dips underneath him and he soon finds both of your hands on each side of his head. Languidly, you hover over his form, caging his figure under your own with a familiar glint in your eye. 

“Is that a threat or a challenge, my love?” 

“Take it however you want dearest. I’d love to see you best me,” he purrs as a familiar syrupy sensation coagulates in his being and his arms instinctively wrap themselves around your neck. 

However, the fog that threatens to cloud his eyes is quickly dispelled by the acute bolt of pain that shoots across his chest and down to his hands, jolting himself violently away from you. 

Despite your sympathy towards the pitiful sight of him wincing and his ears flattening against his head, you chuckle: “Serves you right. Maybe you should have taken into account whether you would be physically fit enough to give into your carnal desires. I’ve been gone for months, surely you missed me in more ways than one, right dearest?”

He pathetically whines as the pain dissipates into a dull ache pulsating under each inch of muscle in his upper body: “But, please, my padisarah-” 

“Just when I was thinking about starting a family with you. I guess we can’t have any new additions when your in this sorry state.”

Abruptly, Tighnari freezes. A family? He remembers briefly mentioning it to when you were courting him whilst he was still a student of the Amurta and just a few weeks after your marriage. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to pressure you into starting one due to his responsibilities as a Forest Watcher and your various alchemical research projects. However, the fact that you’re ready for this next chapter of your lives fills the vulpine male with an insurmountable level of joy.

Impulsively, he pulls you down to him and esctatically rolls over your stunned form. “Are you serious? I’d love to! In fact, I think I’m feeling better already so why don’t we-”

You stop him in his tracks by pressing a finger against his lips: “Slow down ‘Nari,” you chastise, “you aren’t fully healed yet.”

“If that’s the case, then what about tomorrow?”

“No.”

“How about the day after that then?”

You shot back a reply in jest: “It’s not even February, why are you so eager?”

“Well since it’s you, I’m always eager to copulate-”

Embarrassed by the next words to leave his mouth, you exclaim: “Okay, I get it! You’re truly incorrigible. I don’t know how I can endure you and your high libido.”

“I, for one, think it’s because of my charming nature and irresistibly brilliant mind. How could you forget? You said so after-”

“Alright, alright, I give.” You pause to contemplate, sighing before continuing: “Fine, after assessing the severity of your injuries, you’ll be fine by next week.” At your words, you feel his tail softly swish from side-to-side and his ears perk up in elation.

Glancing at your husband, who now peers up at you endearingly, adorning an ebullient beam that you just can’t help but mirror and emanating an exuberant glow you’re glad to see return to him, you plant a kiss against his lips. “You’re such a handful but sometimes I wonder what I could have done to ever deserve you.”

Tighnari flushes at your words, a light pink dusting his cheeks: “I could say the same for you, my padisarah. I can’t believe life led me to you; I couldn’t imagine not having you or your blinding radiance by my side. I’m so grateful to have you as my partner - I don’t know if I could convey how much you mean to me. Well, I could but we may be here for a millenia.”

Warmly, you meet his gaze, staring into those beautiful viridian and hazel optics with your own, “We might have time for that don’t you think?” you remark cheekily, before tenderly announcing: “You’re my universe, Tighnari, I love you.”

“I love you too, my padisarah.”

Underneath the warm rays of the setting sun, Tighnari feels a wave of drowsiness wash over him, lulled to sleep by the rise and fall of your chest and the birdsong outside the open windows. Eventually, the tranquil sight of your beloved slumbeing against your bosom, the sound of the soft breeze entering the room you share, and the relief of being able to return to your home, your soulmate and your dearly missed routine, urges you to succumb to his warmth and doze underneath him.

Although you both don’t dream, you unconsciously catch glimpses of your future together. And you hope that it becomes more than that, that it becomes your reality. Because you wouldn’t want to live out an intangible dream, you want to carve out the next stage of your lives in the waking world. Because you suddenly feel that this is what you’ve always been fated to do. And for once you’re grateful that destiny has led you to him, the love of your life.

[whimsicalcotton]

Also I started getting into the namesake song of polluted marrow (Spiracle by Flower Face) and it's so good... I wanna give you the green light to ramble about how you think this song relates to the fic/the characters/etc bc I'm very curious to hear how it inspired you 😊

[cracks knuckles] Okay so,

for starters this AU is kinda old. i think i started toying w the general idea in 2016ish, and the want to write it got hardcore resurrected when i decided to watch an lis1 playthrough for the first time in fucking ages last year. i happened to find Spiracle recently after finishing up so there was already like a 60% chance i'd start associating it w lis through just that, but then i was smacked in the face specifically by this last line

so hard that i was immediately like Oh God I Need To Write That Timelooper Max AU Right The Fuck Now. (like seriously. "i want you butterfly, i want you sailor." what am i supposed to Do after hearing that if not wail over pricefield)

as a whole for me the song is about The Devotion (tm) and how Max loves every last little part of Chloe, good or bad, for better or worse, so goddamn much that she's willing to put herself through all this fucking bullshit several times over. Yearning On A Cosmic Scale kind of vibes.

but then after a few listens i Realized. that some of these lines are really good for Rachel + the admittedly unhinged amberfield dynamic i have brewing. imo Max is definitely not immune to the whole putting the idea of Rachel on a pedestal problem, but she does it Different than everyone else bc her image of Rachel is informed mostly by how important she was to Chloe. which is to say i read some of these lines in an "and i want you, too. i want every part of her and you're a part of her," sort of way.

also this one line is very Max @ both of them

and to bring it back to that last bit again, i feel like the butterfly/sailor line is pretty self-explanatory but "i am your lover, and i am your jailor," to me is the crux of all those conflicting gnarly gay timelooper feelings. no one loves you like me, no one hurts you like me. i'm saving us, i'm keeping us trapped here. i'm the one who pulls you from your grave, i'm the one who throws the first shovel of dirt onto your coffin. i'm your lover, i'm your jailor.

also! even the title easily lends itself to lis imagery bc A) english is stupid and there are too many words that look the damn same so i think of spirals every time i see it. and more concretely, B) spiracles are little holes in an insect's body that they use to get oxygen and ofc,, both butterflies And the chrysalis itself have them. i'm mentally unwell about this actually. truly i wasn't aware i could be emotionally damaged by looking up caterpillar facts but that's what writing does to you i guess.

and lastly i picked out 'polluted marrow' as a title for the whole AU because

could be Any Of Them.

for Max it's "i'll still want you if you're nothing; i'll still want you if your insides are rotting." for Chloe it's "i want to know what's hurting you; i want to take it away." for Rachel it's "i want to see the depth of your sickness; i want you to hold it to my throat like the weapon you've made it into."

[bogleech]

Hi! I just saw your algae bottle post and thought it was interesting, but I also noticed you had a grimer, a muk, and a trubbish figurine on your shelves. Are those your favorite pokemon or just ones you like that you happened to find figures for?

The pollution based Pokemon are my very favorites and trubbish/garbodor my favorites of those! Pollution and trash monsters are one of my top favorite creature genres, which is why that entire shelf is composed almost entirely of them. I made a whole in depth look through the collection on my website here

I do hope they'll make figures of Varoom and Revavroom I can add to this, being the first pollution Pokemon since Gen 5. I think I should probably also count Glimmet and Glimmora? They're "natural" entities but I feel like toxic minerals lean more toward the "pollutant" side of things.

Later this year there's also an anime statue coming out of my favorite Digimon, which also qualifies. I have waited since the mid 90's for anything of Raremon to exist. I wonder how many people other than me are even going to buy this lumpy wad of resin.