#i am fishing for compelments yes.

[jorisjurgen]

Save me "making a depressing animatic set to an obscure japanese song". "Making a depressing animatic set to an obscure japanese song" save me.

This is the first preview you get of my animatic.

[everparanoid]

For you, I'd steal the stars w/ Wriothesley

Modern Teyvat Au! Wriothesley x f! reader

cw: fluff, minor hint at soulmates.

word count: 3.5k

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠...

╭────────────────────────╮

Wriothesley couldn’t recall how he found himself standing on an unimportant cyan Tuesday afternoon in Autumn, staring at a painting in the Fontaine National Art Gallery not too far away from his office. The painting, Wriothesley reckoned, couldn’t be any larger than two sheets of parchment and yet it hung alone in the centre of a white room. A masterpiece of simplicity. Above him, a giant white ball spun in slowed motion as plain as the rest of the room, a compliment to the art. The canvas however was a deep navy blue, the same shade as the night. Covering this deep blue were speckles of white, spontaneous in their positions. Some gathered in clustered constellations unknown to man. Others, singular. In the middle a golden speck shone, overwhelming the image the longer he stared. He stared and stared until it appeared to be shooting out of the blues and whites and filling his vision. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why such a simple concept had moved him. Why an image alone in a room far away from all the other extravagant displays of artistic prowess had managed to give him such peace; for in the time that he had been staring at the image—lost to time and the world—he had experienced a thousand lifetimes. He’d been everything; from a small sapling to an ancient oak tree; from a huge wolf to a small squirrel; from a primordial narwhal to a tiny transparent fish swimming in the bottom of the darkest blue seas. He’d experienced nations crumbling and rising again and loves that transcended time and space. All beautiful. All but a millisecond in the eyes of the vast universe.

“To you in every universe,” an unknown voice said.

“Huh?” Wriothesley responded, his attention stolen. His reality returned to the same bleak normality which he had just escaped.

You nodded to the painting, “That’s its name.”

He stared at you with an uncertainty reserved for strangers. He hadn’t heard your footsteps as you entered the room nor had he seen you stop beside him, and yet here you were. A stranger. A golden fleck in his blue world.

“Are you interested in it?” You spoke using a soft tone that Wriothesley particularly liked. He hadn’t heard a voice like yours before. He hadn’t heard much past the same blue tones of business tycoons and wannabe entrepreneurs who wished to fill his and their pockets with mounds of green. Being a successful CEO of a Fortune 100 made one lose the many colours of life to shades of blue and green. At the end of a long day, he often found himself wondering what the sun might look like beyond the aeons of blue.

“In what, sorry?” he responded, confused.

“The painting.”

He noticed your name card pinned to your collar announcing you as a member of staff from the gallery.

“Oh, yes. I am,” he said almost sheepishly; his interest was still new to him. Wriothesley always prided himself on his curiosity though he’d never thought himself to be one interested in art. Yet on that random Tuesday when his assistant had got his meal wrong, he’d found himself wandering into the art gallery as if compelled by some supernatural force. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Wriothesley was sure that if he had known such a masterpiece was here, he would have come to see it.

“It’s new,” you said.

“Ah, I see.”

He felt your eyes linger on him for a second before you continued. “Most people are disappointed when they pay the five thousand mora to get past the security only to see this.”

He supposed objectively that he could understand why. If one was hoping for a room of mirrors or a light show they were bound to be disappointed. Then again five thousand mora did buy a meal deal at the local supermarket. But what was five thousand mora to him?

“How long has it been here?” he asked.

“As of right now?” you appeared to be looking up as if calculating, “Three weeks.”

“And how are the numbers?”

“At first people came for the exclusivity and the curiosity. But because the artist is anonymous, they didn’t advertise their art. It’s their thing, I guess. A sort of authorless art. I think it lets people project more. You know? Imagine themselves as the artist…”

Wriothesley did know. Even as a successful man, more than half of the projects happening in Fontaine were due to his discreet puppeteering. He did not like the limelight. He’d make appearances here and there but the people who needed to know him knew him, and those who didn’t could read the credits. It was his philosophy that one didn’t need their face everywhere to do their job.

 “But now… I guess we are lucky if we get twenty people in a week. There is other interesting stuff to look at in the gallery so…” your speech faded off.

Wriothesley hummed in acknowledgement.

“Honestly, there aren’t many people that show true interest in this piece,” you continued.

He could feel the excitement seep from your pores like solar flares, and he almost found himself stepping closer to absorb its heat.

“Do you want to know about it?” you asked suddenly.

Buzz Buzz.

“No,” he hesitated, glancing down at his phone. “Thank you.”

Your shoulders dropped but your smile remained.

“It’s okay.”

“Perhaps another time?” He found himself saying. He hadn’t known why he had proposed that. He had no intentions of coming back. He didn’t have the time to come back. To see; to stop; to experience, but he would. He knew that he would. Even if he had to make the time. He’d return in hopes of experiencing that feeling once more.

#

On a random cerulean Tuesday in Winter, he returned. It had been two months since he first witnessed the painting. Once again, he had wandered into the art gallery during a lunch break. And once again, he stood in the empty room. Alone. Lost in a dream within a dream. This time, as he stared into the painting that had once again entranced him, he became a blade of grass growing next to a beautiful flower. Watching it; admiring it; loving it. He couldn’t understand why in every instance you seemed to seep in. He didn’t know you, and yet it felt like he’d seen you in everything since that day.

‘A moment where time stops, worries fade, and everything feels right. That is the feeling we are chasing. That is the feeling we must never stop searching for. In those moments, I will recognise you in every lifetime. Across every state of being. My heart will seek out yours like eyes do at night, in search of a northern star. I will seek you in every beautiful thing. To you in every universe—’

Wriothesley leaned back, perplexed. The plaques lining the walls of the white room and under the ball held no information about the artist. What had it meant? He couldn’t fathom the thought of something so abstract.

“It’s you,” that same voice from before said from behind, tearing Wriothesley from his thoughts. He didn’t need to turn to know that the owner of the voice was you. Your silent presence had a magnetic quality, pulling him in without him realising it, and suddenly there you were, standing beside him.

“Hello,” he said, though the greeting felt insufficient when he laid eyes upon you. He couldn’t decide whether you had grown more beautiful, or his memory hadn’t held up the splendour that took his breath away when you stood with that genuine smile on your face, and your hands tucked into the pockets of the blazer you wore. You looked like a painting yourself, like something that had just stepped out of a Constable landscape and wandered into the gallery. An angelic apparition. You had a gentle sway to you like you couldn’t stand completely still. Wriothesley wondered if a gust of wind were to blow through the white room, would it blow you away too, like a leaf flees a tree in a breezy morning?

“Did you experience something different this time?” you asked.

Wriothesley’s features darkened. You couldn’t possibly see into his mind, and he wasn’t one to wear his emotions on his face. He’d learnt not to.

“Have I been standing here for a while?”

You shook your head. “No more than ten minutes.”

He blinked.

“It felt like longer, right?” you asked, cheerily.

“A lifetime,” he admitted, his voice softening.

“It does that.”

“Should I leave? Am I holding up the line?”

“No, you’re good,” you said. “No one comes here anymore anyway.”

You turned to the painting. It hadn’t changed, and yet for Wriothesley, the beauty of it seemed to spill out of the edges and illuminate you. Golden. Flickering. He found himself stealing glances at you, an intriguing stranger who had effortlessly piqued his interest. An intriguing stranger, who he only knew the name of and nothing else. Unconsciously, he leaned toward you, and you did too, as if pulled into each other’s gravitational field.

“Why is it alone?” he asked.

You stepped back and looked up at the giant white ball above, spinning in slow circles, and then to the plain white walls in the otherwise stark room.

“It’s not alone.”

“But it is,” he snapped, growing quite annoyed with his inability to understand your abstractness.

Wriothesley liked answers. Puzzles were fun, and they had their place in his world, but answers were like keys to locked doors.

“What makes you think that just because there is a singular piece in a room the whole place is not art?”

His brows furrowed.

Your smile widened as you turned to the painting. “If this room was filled with paintings, would you have noticed it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

He didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from you and your questions.

You took another step back, and Wriothesley watched you as you stopped directly under the giant white ball this time. With an open hand outstretched to him, he gathered that you wanted him to join you in the centre of the room. Eventually, he took one long step, and then another till he stood closer to you but not beside.

You lowered your hand.

“Let me put this another way for you, when you sit in your—” you looked him over, “meetings, and you attend your fancy work dinners, do you notice all the art around you? The furniture, the architecture, the choices made by your colleagues to look expensive. Do you stop to take it all in or does it become lost in singular shades of monotony?”

Wriothesley pictured the blues and greens of his life but dismissed the idea of you understanding his thoughts. “You don’t make millions by not noticing.”

You shrugged. “But you do become numb to it.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but you’re saying that the whole room is art?”

Wriothesley couldn’t say that he was fond of modern art, but he did appreciate that it had a time and place.

“This room, stark and colourless, is as much a part of the painting as the painting itself. Without the painting, the room remains devoid of colour, but with it, the room comes to life. It’s as if the artist intended the painting to be a guide in an otherwise monochrome world. By which, you who see it realise that the painting was never confined to the canvas. But can see the beauty of the entire world, in all lifetimes, across universes. Or maybe it is something completely different, art is subjective after all.”

“To you, the world must be a beautiful place,” he mused aloud.

“And yours is not?”

He chuckled, “I can assure you it’s not as vibrant as yours.”

“What makes you think that mine is vibrant? What if mine is like this room? Bland and empty.”

He wouldn’t believe it, but then again, he wouldn’t not believe it either. It was always the people with the brightest souls who hurt the most.

“I’ll do you one better. What if it’s mine?” he asked.

“Are you seeing your golden star right now then, mister?”

“It’s Wriothesley, and maybe.”

Wriothesley noticed your eyes widen briefly before you suppressed a small smile and took a step back. “Well Wriothesley, I’ll have to agree. It is yours. It’s your mind, your world. The painting is your universe. At least that’s how I think the artist intended it.”

“There is no artist,” he said.

You tilted your head to the side slightly and clasped your hands behind your back.

“There always is,” you said and glanced back at him before returning to the painting. “If you have the time to hear about them, I will gladly tell you.”

In his pocket, his phone rang, filling the silent room. His time was up once again.

“Next time,” he said.

A sadness flashed across your eyes before you smiled.

“Sure,” you said.

#

A month passed, and the sad lingering look in your eyes haunted Wriothesley through his blue days. Green still rained from the sky, but every time he caught a glimmer of gold passing his office or on the street, he’d imagine it was you.

On a random Wednesday in Winter, one that felt more azure than usual, Wriothesley came again to the gallery. But this time, the white room was filled with modern paintings. Gone was the white ball and the night sky painting, and you. Gone was the security guard who would grumble every time Wriothesley dropped a small wad of mora in the man’s hand to let him into the paid exhibit. In its place, people heaved; phone cameras flashed and made snapping noises as they posed before the art, hoping to add it to their social media feed. Wriothesley didn’t enter the room; he couldn’t. He didn’t like crowded places, and none of the art was of interest to him. And none of them were you.

Wriothesley cleared his throat and straightened his tie as he approached the help desk by the entrance of the gallery. Behind it sat an older man, staring down at his mobile phone, humming along to a Vocaloid song that played in his earbuds. Beside him, a younger man, barely eighteen, who looked excited at the possibility of not staring into space any longer, waved Wriothesley over.

“Can I help you, sir?” the young man said. His name card, Timmie, glimmered under the artificial light.

“Yes, I think you can,” Wriothesley began. “There was an exhibit here about a month ago. One with a singular painting in it—no artist.” He wanted to ask about you but thought better than to do that.

“No artist?” Timmie asked.

“Yes, no artist.”

Timmie rubbed the back of his neck as if he couldn’t comprehend the idea of an exhibition without an artist.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I am.”

After apologising quickly, he began typing aggressively at his keyboard. Typing and then deleting and typing again. Presumably, he was bringing up the list of art that had been exhibited over the last year. Wriothesley waited, tapping his foot, and watching people pass, nodding at the occasional person who stared.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I can’t seem to find the exhibit you are talking about.”

Wriothesley frowned.

“Oh? But it was here last month?”

“It’s not showing up on my files without an artist’s name unless you remember the name of the piece?”

“To you in every universe,” Wriothesley said, remembering only the colour of your eyes and the gold aura that seemed to follow you. He was sure he’d remember that name until all the stars left the sky.

Timmie typed it out, and for a second, Wriothesley had hope. Until Timmie looked up and said, “Oh, that. It’s moved temporarily to the International Modern Art Gallery in Inazuma.”

“Inazuma?”

Timmie nodded.

“As has the artist,” His eyes widened. “Who would have thought? She’s one of our own.”

Wriothesley perked up at the information.

“Did you happen to have her name by any chance so I might look her up?” Wriothesley asked, trying to mask his desperation with cool indifference.

“I mean if you want,” Timmie said.

#

In the art shop attached to the gallery on an emerald Friday, more than a year later in Spring, Wriothesley found you assisting an elderly woman, wrapping a print of a painting. He paused, captivated by the sight of you. You were even more stunning despite the time passed and in comparison to the modelesque women he saw in his everyday life. Your beauty, accentuated by the soft lighting of the shop, and your radiant smile, seemed to light him up inside. He lingered amongst the shelves waiting for you to finish up with the elder woman, who was eagerly telling you about her seventh great-grandchild, to which you seemed to listen with just as much interest. He found himself mirroring your joy as he admired you until he stumbled upon a postcard of the piece he had spent months searching for. The one that had moved to Inazuma, then to Mondstadt, then to Snezhnaya, Sumeru, and Natlan, till he bought it at an auction, white room, giant spinning ball, blue painting, plaques, and all. In this picture, the last plaque was too small to be noticed, just as it had been when he’d stared at it both times in person. But he knew it was there, the final part of the collection of plaques. And the full name of the exhibition.

When the elderly woman left, he approached you, his eyes locked on you who had become his universe.

You looked up and smiled, “It’s a beautiful piece,” you said, gesturing to the postcard in his hand.

“It is,” Wriothesley replied, his gaze fixed on you rather than the inferior postcard print. Nothing could compare to the real thing. “But the exhibition has gone.”

“It has,” you confirmed. He was sure you knew that it was him who bought it. It wasn’t hard to figure out, he was obvious despite his outward coolness.

“Are you leaving too?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. He had thought you were a dream. You’d been gone for so long that he feared he would have to wait a lifetime.

“Why?”

“You weren’t here,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual.

 “I was volunteering at a cat shelter,” you lied. “Did you miss me?”

“Mildly,” he responded, though he too was lying.

“Only mildly?”

He laughed, “Okay, maybe a bit more—”

“Just a bit?” you interrupted, your eyes sparkling.

“I missed your commentary,” he admitted.

“My commentary? Wow,” you said, feigning surprise.

“Oh? Not enough for you?”

You shook your head, your eyes dancing with mirth. He pretended to think, but in truth, he was searching for a simple way to express such complex emotions.

“I missed your sunny presence,” he finally said.

“My sunny presence?” you echoed.

“Are you going to keep repeating everything I say?” he asked, unable to suppress his smile.

“Maybe,” You leaned forward on the counter, your intelligent eyes tearing down his icy walls. “What have you been up to? Aside from missing me, of course.”

“I just abandoned a meeting to chase after a shooting star,” Wriothesley confessed, for once wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“And? Did you catch it?”

“Half of it,” he affirmed. “When does your shift end?”

“I’m just finishing. Why?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

“I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee with me?” he proposed, hoping he wasn’t too late. He’d already blocked off the rest of the night. He’d block off the rest of the year if he knew he’d get to spend it with you.

“I don’t like to drink coffee this late.”

“Tea, then? With dinner? I would love to hear about the artist of that piece. What was its full name again? For the painting and the room.”

“To you in every universe—” you began.

“For you, I’d steal the stars,” he finished. “Very sneaky of you by the way.”

Your lips parted as you took in a breath.

Wriothesley could feel every nerve in his body fighting to touch you, to be closer to you. You who brought gold into his monotonous world. You who he’d steal all the stars in the universe to be closer to.

“You know I never believed in coincidences,” Wriothesley said.

“Neither have I,” you said.

“I learned a long time ago that if you want something you have to fight for it. So, no pressure of course, but does tea and dinner sound good?”

Your grin was a small act that set his night sky ablaze with more glimmers of gold. To him, the shop couldn’t be filled with any more colours than they were then. Gone were the shades of green and blue, washed away by a spectrum of magnificence; where suddenly he was him and you were you, existing in the same universe.

“It sounds perfect,” you said.

╰────────────────────────╯

KO-FI MASTERLIST

[ageingfangirl2]

A Reason To Come Back! Shanks (OPLA) Part 2

Reader is a mermaid who washed up close to death in Luffy's village and made a home for themselves. Shanks comes back and tries to convince y/n to join his crew. Shanks x Female Reader.

Part 1

Y/N

'Then join my crew!' Shanks said in a carefree manner.

That was four months ago, you didn't quite believe Shanks would go through with his promise, so you said yes.

After that first meeting, you went back to the tavern with Shanks to meet the rest of his crew, after stopping at your house to get some dry clothes. Shanks had so many questions about mermaids just like Luffy did and you tried to answer all of them. Maybe Luffy was right about him being a good guy, he gave off the vibe of someone you could trust but wouldn't want to cross.

You were nervous meeting the rest of his crew since pirates were primarily male, but they quickly put you at ease and were amazed at just how much booze you could put away, turns out that was a pro of being a mermaid. One of the newer crew tried to hit on you and it was then you revealed apparently what Shanks suspected when he heard you laugh, and that was your ability to compel. Let's just say the rest of the crew would never let the guy live down the humiliation you put him through.

Before he went to bed Shanks told Luffy of the promise he'd made to you. At first, the boy was upset that you wouldn't be joining his crew but was happy you'd both be pirates one day.

It did feel nice to let loose, laugh and have fun around others. And Shanks kept his eye on you the whole night. Maybe returning to the sea one day might just happen for you. You sketched a rough drawing of the jolly roger you'd seen during your escape, and it turned out Shanks and his crew didn't like that crew already so were all on board to help you.

During those four months, you kept yourself busy, fishing, helping around the village and keeping an eye on Luffy. You also had started putting things aside in case Shanks kept his promise and you had to join his crew which didn't seem that bad.

Today you'd just finished swimming and were returning to your house when you saw a familiar red-haired pirate sitting on your porch.

'SHANKS!' you call out.

SHANKS

I should have known y/n wouldn't be at home. They weren't in town when we arrived so I assumed they were swimming in the cove. Other than Luffy and myself no one else had been to the cove to see her mermaid form, it was her private space.

'SHANKS!' y/n calls out.

I look up to see the red-haired girl walking up the path towards me smiling and dripping wet. It was very unusual to see someone with the same hair colour as myself but y/n explained mermaids either got the colour from their mother or father or could get a mixture of both but y/n got her mother's red hair and tail.

I stand up and embrace y/n, who hugs me back. She was a lot smaller than me, but that didn't mean you should underestimate her, 'I told you I'd come back. You get younger each time I see you.'

y/n blushes at the compliment and playfully shoves me back, 'How old do you think I am Shanks?'

My face drops, this was a trap women liked to set to trip men up, 'err I don't know maybe early twenties.'

y/n grins, 'Such a charmer, we're the same age Shanks, mermaids just age slower and appear more youthful.'

I was shocked by her answer but also relieved. I said the early twenties to not sound awful when y/n could easily pass for eighteen or nineteen. At least we wouldn't have a kid on the crew with us.

'I didn't come to ask your age y/n, I came because I have something for you.'

y/n tilts their head and their eyes widen, 'what do you have for me? How's the arm by the way? Still getting used to only having one?'

Before leaving last time I'd lost my arm rescuing Luffy. I had no regrets and would do it again. It was tough but I was slowly adapting.

'Some days are harder than others but it will take time,' I reply honestly.

I reach behind me and under my cloak pull a wrapped-up piece of black fabric before handing it to y/n. y/n slowly unwraps the fabric and gasps loudly.

'You did it Shanks...this is the jolly roger I saw...thank you...' y/n stumbles over their words, tears pricking their eyes, 'what happened?'

It warmed my heart to see her get happy and emotional staring at the flag belonging to the ship that killed her family, 'they had a lot of enemies, and my crew simply pinned them against each other until they were no more. You're free to return to the sea y/n.'

y/n puts the flag down and throws themselves at me, causing me to grunt at the sudden impact but y/n wasn't that heavy so I was able to catch her as she hugged and clung onto me, 'you kept your end up so I'll keep mine, looks like I'm joining your crew Shanks.'

I laugh and put y/n down, 'Welcome to The Red Hair Pirates. I think you'll fit in nicely.'

It turned out that y/n was already packed, ready for the day to arrive. The rest of the crew and Luffy were waiting at the tavern, so we headed down there with y/n's belongings.

'I'M GOING TO MISS YOU SO MUCH Y/N!' Luffy shouts in y/n's face as soon as we enter the tavern, but y/n simply smiles and ruffles his hair not fazed by the loudness.

'I'm going to miss you more,' y/n replies and squeezes his cheek.

I clear my throat behind them and they both look up at me, 'What about me Luffy, won't you miss me?'

Luffy grins like an idiot, 'Of course, I'll miss you Shanks, you made me want to become a pirate but how many mermaids am I going to meet in my life?'

y/n sniggers, 'and since I'm now a pirate mermaid I guess you're number two in his eyes Shanks or should I say, captain.'

I roll my eyes but embrace the situation. Things were going to be a lot more interesting with y/n on the crew.

[kit-williams]

The Equinox Song

Mer Anrir time! Yes I am going to milk this song again

Anrir's Fish vibe: angler fish

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

You could finally afford to go to a Night Lord Equinox song! Only happens twice a year and everything in the local area got expensive or overbooked to come and see them sing. You've wanted to do this for years as listening to the recordings online only could do so much to quell the craving you had to hear them sing live. You were bouncing with excited energy as your best friend had come with you finally having enough of your wanting to see them. Fences had been set up around the dock, the beach closed off for a good mile, and no boats to disturb them as Night Lords were notoriously Territorial and known to kill with little provocation... you could tell as a few of the early arrivers were wearing masks made of bone. You looked over the pamphlet as like with most mer-songs someone went missing at every event... you look over the warnings: stop listening if you feel compelled to get in the water, avoid prolonged eye contact with a mer, mer's while aquatic can 'sprint' in short distances so if you think you're far enough you probably aren't... and other warnings.

You were especially excited to hear, what was assumed to be the head of the shoal, the angler sing. Where you sat you could see the large rock that most of them would sit on... the smaller smoother rock for the singer, and other various less desirable spots. Younger Night Lords would swim right up to under your feet and sing as they spin in the water some with glowing red eyes just looking up with sharp toothed grins. But you watched as more and more Night Lords were appearing and hissing, barking, shoulder bumping, and other displays as you watched one smaller Night Lord get thrown from a spot on the rock. There was singing during all of this but it wasn't the main song... it wasn't their song. You had gotten so caught up in the antics that you jumped slightly as your friend touched your shoulder. "Look." She whispers.

You softly gasp as you can see on his rock you could see him pulling himself out of the water. The moon was bright enough that you could make out some details. Long black hair that covered his eyes but not his nose and mouth ended at his waist... both front and back, his torso pale and covered in scars, twisting patches of midnight blue scales covered his chest and arms, the tips of his long fingers were black and his hands webbed, like all night lords poking out of his hair were long red ear fins that reminded you of bat wings, and your eyes landed on why he was called the angler as there was a lure that let out a pulse of bioluminescent light... his face lit up for a moment and you swore he was grinning at you.

The shoal got into place, the wind was blowing but otherwise everything else was quiet. His voice was soft... it was like a lullaby... but was it powerful as it caried on the wind in such a way that recordings failed to do it justice. You couldn't help but hold your breath as his voice croons supernaturally as you could feel it in your bones as this was why people were scared to hear them sing. He sings and as he goes on he sounds louder... stronger... almost as if he is singing directly to you. How his whole body sways and his arms held out as he sings... its as if you're watching something tribal... something sacred and intimate... you shiver as it feels like you are there alone... the water doesn't look so cold.

You swallow as the rest of the shoal bursts out singing, their voices filling the moonlit night air. Those on the rock were flashing white bioluminescent streaks down their tails akin to bolts of lightning spidering over their tails. Just like the storms they were fond of singing during. Right below the viewing area, churning the water were others as they churned it with their dancing, spinning and bobbing in the water as they sing up to all the humans just out of reach. Unnatural eyes glittered and glowed in the moonlight as the water rushed down their pale skin and dark scales. However, their antics couldn't pull your eyes away from him... you were hyper focused on him and at this point there was no denying it when the lure lit up his face... he was looking right at you.

It was magical... so otherworldly... so... get in the water... something told you deep in your gut that if you let him finish the whole song to you that you weren't going home tonight! You were shaking as you got up and ran covering your ears. The song was almost over and you were certain that when you stopped it would have been over. Your hands are shaking and you're on the verge of hyperventilating as you want to throw up even. Your chest was pounding from how hard your heart is racing and you wiped the sweat off of your face as you notice the lonely drink machine. Coins are fed into the vending machine and your trembling hands struggle with opening up the can. You put your head between your knees to come down from the adrenaline high as you were now safe. The waves were loud but no longer calling you to get in.

You exhale in relief as you continue to stop feeling like trash. Something scrapes against the concrete next to you... but you didn't hear footsteps. You open your eyes and see there is a lot of water wetting the concrete turning it dark as it soaks up the liquid. Your throat tightens and you start to shake... your hair is blocking what is to your side and you start to turn your head. You nearly scream as a webbed hand grabs your chin and guides you up gently. Your grab his arm that holds your chin as tears gather in your eyes as the large merman looms over you as he cups your face like a lover would. His lure lights up and you see thin spines on his face near his eyes raise and push the hair over his eyes away.

You realize you're looking right into his eyes as you watch large bioluminescent patches under his black eyes glow. He leans in cooing to you... знішчыць... he croons to you... the last... знішчыць... verses... of his... song... знішчыць.... He leans in and you just melt into his kiss as your body goes limp... you don't hear people scream for you... his mouth on yours feels so good... your name being shrieked by your friend... you pull back to breathe... strong arms wrap around you as you are pulled into the water... it doesn't feel so cold as he sings to you. знішчыць... pulling you down... знішчыць... and down... знішчыць... and down... знішчыць... into the dark... знішчыць....

[suzyandthefox]

Ladybug

I wrote this uninspired and it somehow became my longest vore fic ever

This was out of my comfort zone, I was inspired by @imafayliure 's post

Content warnings: Gore (not too much) ,animal death, Vore (duh), general angst and misunderstanding (they end on a good note), an insult in Spanish.

Soft,safe, quarter size(?) m/m vore, unwilling prey and not very sober pred.

Taglist: @pineappleparfaitie @opikarts (interact if you want to be added, Ask if you want to be removed)

Word count: 3,500

Lumen hated going outside, especially since he and his brother moved to this cabin, which was built next to a large pond.

It was humid, it was wet, it was full of pesky creatures that weren't edible -like mosquitoes-, and the constant noises of wildlife was driving him crazy.

Yes,there was fish to hunt, and other crustaceans, but he needed something that had blood in it.

Being a vampire borrower is a complicated state of life.

One night, he was dizzy with hunger, he had to find something to eat, something alive and pulsing and filled with blood…

His gray eyes fell on something small,round, and red. It hid in the tall grass that surrounded the pond, the bright red color would be a warning for predators to not come near.

Not for Lumen, it compelled him to get closer.

============

Bunyan curled around himself in fear as he tried to control his sobs, he shouldn't have come here at all,he shouldn't have!

Already being at the miniscule height of one inch tall was horrifying, even his wings and their bright red color didn't stop every creature out there from trying to eat him.

And there it was, another one of them, it was big and skinny and… human shaped? But also not a human?

Bunyan was filled with both curiosity and fear, he stood up in a defensive stance, flashing his red wings once again.

“Stay back! Or… or I will give you a bad time!!”

Instead, the being only got closer, its silhouette now illuminated under the moonlight.

It was slender,tall,draped in dark rags and wrapped it's face in old white cloths, and it reminded him of a… Raven.

It had caused him even more fear, this strange creature was a predator wearing the skin of a friend, it looked humanoid but it was far from that.

“Now now, little one, easy there, no need to be spicy.” Then it spoke, Bunyan shivered, its voice was rough and deep… 

And human? There was something nice about it, it sounded sincere even.

“F…Fine! But I remind you that I'm NOT edible!” Still in his defensive stance, Bunyan warned.

“Indeed you aren't, you're too spicy!” The being joked half heartedly, it sounded tired as well.

“Who are you? What are you?” Bunyan tilted his head as he lowered his guard, his wings stopped fluttering and returned to their place on his back.

“Lumen, you can call me Lumen…”

“And… Honestly I don't know, I used to be a borrower, but now I'm unsure.”

“But what about you? You're awfully way too small to be a borrower, what are you?”

Lumen walked closer to the tiny ladybug boy, almost wholly engulfing him in his shadow.

Even as they're both small beings in this big world, the sheer size difference between him and the boy was still shocking.

He could easily pick up the boy with both of his hands, just like how a human would pick up a cat, after all,the kid was the size of a newborn baby.

“I'm a borrower… at least I think I am, I never saw much outside my colony.”

“First time alone?” Lumen knelt on one knee to lessen the height difference between them.

“Yes actually, I'm supposed to look for a place to stay, so I can live on my own this winter.” The boy still maintained his distance between him and the larger, much more intimidating borrower.

“Live on your own_there’s no way you're an adult.” The vampire borrower murmured, a look of great concern drawn on his eyes, even as his face wasn't visible underneath the cloth.

Maybe it was just his fatherly instincts, but he was unable to perceive the ladybug kid as anything other than, well, a kid.

“I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Bunyan!” The boy gingerly extended his hand to handshake, now that he was partially sure that the man was a fellow borrower.

Bunyan, even his name is adorable.

Lumen was starting to believe he stumbled upon a character from a children's book and not a real person , let alone a full grown adult.

The beast crept up on him and kept whispering in his ears, he was getting hungrier by the moment and he was barely keeping himself in check.

He was starving,he was yearning for the taste of fresh,hot blood going down his throat, but the only living Infront of him was…

No,NO, he shook his head and tried to get rid of the idea, this is a friend,a friend.

“Are you okay?” Bunyan asked with confusion.

“I'm alright kid, just… Hungry.”

Bunyan instinctively took a step back, he still didn't like how the bigger borrower looked like a carnivorous animal.

Yes he hunts and eats aphids for a living, but it wasn't the same, the bigger borrower had sharp fangs, it was as if he eats people alive.

Before Bunyan could talk, a loud noise of something slimy and big hit the ground.

A dreaded noise echoed in the air around them.

Croak

A toad, it was a toad.

Instinctively, Lumen grabbed the tiny boy and picked him up, and bolted out of the scene to the tall grass again before the sudden attack of the tongue has touched them.

It was bigger and stouter than most toads both of them had seen.

For Lumen, he could fight that thing with his bare hands and win, the amphibian wouldn't be interested in him due to his big size after all.

But it was poor Bunyan who would be devoured as soon as that toad looks at him.

He whimpered at the thought of being eaten, shaking heavily, oh how glad he was that there was a bigger borrower right here that can protect him.

He found himself tugging at Lumen's shirt, his breaths bated and shallow, his small body wouldn't stop shaking.

Lumen noticed the thin sheen of a foul smelling liquid on the boy’s arms and legs, wetting his clothes.

His sense of smell wasn't working the way it should work due to him being unable to breathe, so it wasn't the smell that disturbed him.

Still he found it… weird, he preferred not to comment on the matter.

“It's a defense mechanism,I swear! O-our bodies secrete a liquid from our joints so that when a predator smells us, they will leave us alone.” The boy blushed and squirmed as he tried to explain.

Well , that makes it better, but the sensation wasn't the best

regardless.

He could still hear the croaks nearby, as if the toad was still determining where they are, and as he got more stressed, he wrapped his black coat around both himself and Bunyan, as if to hide the boy within him.

“You could do exactly that” his inner beast whispered to him, again he shook his head in refusal.

“Think about it, the boy is very small, and you, you're bigger, you're easily capable of hiding him… In you.”

“If anything has to eat the boy, it should be you.”

“Just for a while, just a few, harmless minutes, to satiate us both.”

But isn't he too… big? Lumen peeked once at the boy in his arms and his heart shattered into millions of pieces.

Big, frightful, wide eyes looked at him, practically begging him to protect the boy. He was so small, that the task was easier and harder at the same time.

Physically he can go with it, out of his comfort zone but he can go with it.

Emotionally however? He will never fully recover from it and neither will the boy.

He wanted to think about this again but the loud noise of the toad landing In front of them, and the beast coiling around his throat like a vile snake, he let go of all his humanity at that moment.

“I apologize so much for this, but it's for your own good,” was the last thing he said before he had let himself break loose.

Bunyan, at first, was very confused at Lumen's words.

But it was when the larger borrower opened his maw and a series of sharp, large fangs glinted underneath the moonlight that the boy’s heart dropped.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, he surely hoped with every molecule of his body that what he thought was happening wasn't happening.

But it was when his head was stuck into the jaws, his antennas brushing with the back of the throat, that he knew that the nightmare was real.

For Lumen, perhaps it was the beast’s control, perhaps it was his hunger, or perhaps it was even an ability he knew nothing about,but he found the task of swallowing the smaller borrower whole frighteningly easy.

It was second nature even, his throat accommodated the size, then he found himself taking a hefty gulp, his body eagerly accepting of the large meal.

Still it was different, it was strange, it was something he hadn't done before, combined with the stressful atmosphere and the time they had, it was a quick but very messy process.

He was grateful that he wasn't breathing at that moment and that he didn't need to, he would’ve absolutely choked if he did.

It was strange how he was still able to gobble up the kid despite his current state not accepting anything besides blood, but then again, the boy did have blood in him, and something about that truly satiated the beast, it was still appealing to the vampire side of him.

A second swallow, and despite the squirms, the sobs, and the absolutely foul,bitter taste that filled his mouth he continued, pushing the tiny legs into his mouth with his hand.

Finally he got to a point where he no longer needed to shove the ladybug down, and he could let gravity do the rest of the work.

Bunyan's sobs and begs echoed through him and reached his ears, muffled by his undead flesh, but at that moment he couldn't hear them, the frenzy far too strong.

Rippling muscles and hungry organs hugged the boy and pulled him deeper into the belly of the beast, soon Bunyan, who already gave up all hope, would be welcomed by the stomach.

Lumen felt a distinct weight fill him and push against his clothes, he put his hand on the small lump that formed, and he pushed it into himself, as if trying to hide the boy deeper inside his guts.

And it was also a hug, a strange, awkward hug.

Something about this whole ordeal made the beast rumble in excitement, this was good, this was right, to have live, squirming prey inside his belly.

Even if he physically couldn't digest it, it was far better and far more satisfying than eating regular food, it was no different from having the greatest thanksgiving feast and eating until you can't eat anymore.

But unfortunately he couldn't enjoy this for too long, the human part in him was tearing itself apart from guilt, and there's another predator right there that looked completely pissed at the fact it's snack was stolen.

The weight in his stomach disoriented him, and while his frenzied state was an excellent hunter, he was still worried about harming the boy.

He stood up and stared into the toad's eyes, who squinted at him and narrowed its eyes as well.

“You wanted that snack, Aye?”

“Well he's mine now… Pinche Pendejo” He said as he put a possessive hand over his stomach.

As if the toad understood the insult, it launched its tongue at Lumen, determined to make the large borrower its snack.

But instead of hopping away,the vampire borrower took it as a chance, as soon as the slimy tongue pulled him close, he swiftly stuck his claws deep into the thick skin of the toad’s sides, and toppled it on its back, wrestling with it.

He pinned the creature to the ground, exposing it's soft underbelly, it was almost impossible to keep a good grip on the slimy creature, but all it took was one quick swipe from his claws to gore the toad and tear it's stomach open, finally killing it.

As soon as the deed was done, he felt the beast release him from his current state, satisfied with the violence it caused.

And the only thing left was the terrible, terrible guilt and regret, as he was able to hear the faint,weak sobs the poor boy made.

They were inaudible now, and Lumen was unsure if he was asleep or waiting for his death.

He was going to let him out of course, but he took a moment to… Understand what is exactly happening.

He was a cold,undead being, with no warmth of his own and no pulse.

But inside his stomach was a living person, with a fluttering pulse and warmth that radiated from him and seeped into Lumen's own bones and body.

He rubbed at his full stomach, feeling the dread that will come from having to explain his intentions to the poor thing.

He couldn't keep him for longer, even if he wanted to, and this whole thing has made him ask himself, was the act of swallowing Bunyan whole the right choice?

He thought, and realized that no, it wasn't.

It would have been easier if he just asked Bunyan to hide in the grass or behind a rock, and even if Bunyan got swallowed by the toad he could’ve gutted it just like he did now.

He realized that he was protecting Bunyan from himself, rather than the toad, the choice he made at that moment wasn't his own choice.

And so he decided to not let the torture go on any longer and let the ladybug boy out to the world again.

It was a tedious process, having to work his body in reverse,the muscles of his stomach kneading around his poor prisoner, and working him upwards, the small lump in his abdomen gradually shrunk as the weight inside it was lifted to his esophagus instead.

Then into his hands the boy was released, wet and covered in saliva and other fluids he had no idea what they were.

He didn't have a great understanding of anatomy, not even his own.

The look that the boy had on him was nothing short of seething hatred, and it was understandable, it was truly understandable.

“Are you alrig_”

“Why?” Bunyan's voice was quiet, tired, but it still burned.

The vampire stayed quiet, every single explanation and excuse he thought of… They were all selfish, none of them were actually in Bunyan's favor.

The wet ladybug boy looked next to him to see a mauled toad, its guts spilling on the ground.

“So it was true, you're really a monster pretending to be a borrower.” He quietly commented.

It was that moment where it finally sank in Lumen’s mind that Bunyan was an adult, a child wouldn't hate him that much, it would be afraid, but not vengeful.

He, again, tried to think of anything to say.

“I was trying to help,” was all he was able to get out.

“You're no better than that toad… But at least a toad is upfront about what it wants! Not attempting to be my friend, only to decide to eat me later!”

Bunyan had nothing but his words, he couldn't do anything, his weakness against the vampire that swallowed him whole with ease was a horrible thing, even right now, when the vampire has let him out, he wouldn't put him on the ground.

He tried to stay strong, but the nightmare that was being eaten alive broke his wavering courage, he didn't want to cry again.

“Bunyan… I'm sorry, I swear, I wasn't going to hurt you, you were going to be safe,” his name came out like a crude mockery of a friendship from the vampire’s mouth.

“Sure! Keeping me safe by eating me alive!”

“Please just… Stop, put me down.” The attempts at consolation were almost just as bad as the experience of being eaten.

And he was put down on the dewy grass, shivering slightly as the breeze hit him.

“I was going to tell the colony about you, they would've known how to deal with something like… you,” 

“But I don't want anyone I care about to go through what I went through, so consider yourself lucky.”

Lumen noticed the lack of usage of his name, it meant that whatever frail bond they created was severed forever.

Bunyan flapped his wings, and they didn't work, they were incapacitated by the saliva.

He sat down on the ground, barely holding back tears, and that's when something like a large blanket wrapped him, drying him up.

He looked upwards to find that the vampire, who had just eaten him alive, had wrapped him in his coat, but he was nowhere to be seen.

And so was the mauled toad.

=========

It's been a few minutes, Bunyan fell asleep and woke up several times.

A realization hit him, he missed being in that borrower’s stomach.

It was soft, so very soft, and it was gently hugging him through the whole fight. It wasn't the warmest, but that's good, he preferred the lukewarmness.

No! This isn't rational! He shouldn't be missing it! He was eaten alive!

But maybe the larger borrower was sincere about his intentions, and it's not like he was digested, he was just sleepy.

Hypothetically, if he knew it was safe, he would've asked to stay for the rest of the night, he was very tired,and scared.

He jolted as he felt a large hand on his shoulder.

“Better now?” It was the larger borrower’s voice.

“I thought you were gone?” He asked.

Lumen shook his head

“I thought you wanted some time by yourself, especially after… everything.”

“Thank you...I have come to terms with it.” It was very considerate on the other borrower’s part,he had to admit it, even if he very much still didn't come to terms with it.

“You never explained how it was safe for me to be there.”

“Right…”

There was a moment of silence, before Lumen began slowly and patiently explaining:

“Like I told you earlier, I was a borrower before.” He flinched as he remembered.

“But then I died.”

Died? 

“Some monster killed me, but it didn't just leave me to die, it fed me its foul blood and told me that I belong to it.”

“That… was two centuries ago.”

Centuries?! Bunyan was shocked, the longest anyone of his colony lived was three years, and he didn't even have his first birthday yet!

The concept was far too much to grasp for the boy, the fact that this borrower lived in the same time as his ancient ancestors was headache inducing.

“Anyway, since I am technically dead, that means I can “live” without breathing or eating, but I have to occasionally drink blood instead.”

“Like a mosquito?”

“Kinda, what I'm trying to get at is, my organs are vestigial, useless, you could take my brain away and I would still go on with my undeath.”

“By extension, my stomach is useless for its purpose, it can't digest anything, so I instead store the important things in it if I can.”

He put a hand on Bunyan's head and gently patted him.

“Today I learned that I can store the important people too.”

Bunyan's pale cheeks flushed a bright red, but he just tried to ignore it.

“I'm sorry for all the rude things I said earlier… You aren't a monster, you're just… different.”

“Don't be,I shouldn't have done it in the first place, you were rightfully angry at me, I know I would be pissed too if some big lug snatched me off the ground and gobbled me up without a good warning.”

They shared a dry laugh, and Bunyan tried to flap his wings again, they were drier now, thanks to the large coat he was huddling himself in.

“Look at you, swaddled in my coat like a baby, I almost want to eat you up again.” 

Bunyan didn't find it as funny, he furrowed his eyebrows.

He took a look at the undead borrower, without his coat, his skeletal frame was apparent,his shirt was hanging on his body rather than being on it, and for a moment he wondered how in the world did this skinny frame wholly contain him with ease.

“It was very scary, you know.”

“But it was also… nice, and now that I think about it, you did try to tell me it was alright.”

“So… Thank you again, for everything,” The boy smiled “I'm glad to meet you, Lumen.”

“I'm glad to meet you as well, I will be sure to visit during winter.”

With that, Bunyan handed the large , now wet coat to it's owner, and got up to stretch all four of his arms.

“Stay safe, Boy!” Lumen waved goodbye to Bunyan.

“You too!” The boy waved back.

Both went their separate ways, even as Lumen felt a desperate need to follow the kid until he was safe.

He had so much to tell his brother that night.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 12 first part

honestly im not even gonna say when the chapter is gonna be ready anymore...it'll be done when it's done...

anyways here's the first part. It's unbetaed but hopefully it compels/entertains you in some way as I finish the chapter up

“My dear Iudex, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a smile on your face?”

Neuvillette raised his gaze from the documents spread out before him. Furina was standing on the other side of his desk. Of course, he had heard her enter his office before she even spoke, but he was so used to her unannounced intrusions these days that he treated it as a part of his daily routine now. I only hope that she makes this quick. I have a rather heavy agenda today, and I would like to return home before dark.

Furina leaned over his desk, her heterochromatic eyes eagerly scanning the desk for some sort of incriminating evidence to grab onto. Of course, she found none. Neuvillette wasn’t so foolish that he would make such a careless mistake.

“Hmph, I didn’t know that paperwork could inspire such a joyous expression on one’s face. What a contrast you make with the Gestionnaires outside your door! You really must get out more.”

“Indeed, I have, thanks to your urging. I believe you’ve already read the note I left you.”

“Ah, yes, that sorry excuse for a note,” Furina sniffed. “‘Will be away for a day due to personal reasons.’ No mention of where you’re going or who you’ll be with.”

“I see no reason why I should have included either of those things. I followed all the necessary protocol for requesting leave, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Oh, I am. But Neuvillette, aren’t you getting tired of constantly having to avoid my questions and fend me off every single day? You know exactly what I want, why won’t you give it to me? Are you truly intending to keep doing this forever?”

“And you know very well that I will not change my position on this matter. There is no need for you to get involved in my marriage, nor do you have the right.”

Furina and Neuvillette glared at each other silently for a while. Throughout this week, she had constantly needled, badgered, and pestered him in an attempt to fish for any information about his day off, but he remained an immovable stone wall. He knew that revealing anything to her would only pour fuel on the fire, so to speak. Knowing her nature, he doubted she would let this go any time soon, but he could at least not give her any openings to pounce onto.

“No right to get involved in your marriage, huh,” Furina repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t forget that you have me to thank for it. Would you have ever even considered marrying this woman if it weren’t for me?”

Neuvillette did not say anything. They both knew the answer to that question.

“Even so, I do not owe you anything,” he said with a firm tone that signaled the end of their talk. “Now then, Furina, allow me to get back to my work.”

“Fine,” Furina said with a toss of her head. “It looks like I’ll be visiting you again tomorrow.”

“Please do so during my coffee break.”

Furina spun on her heel and was about to stride away when she suddenly turned around again. “You know, Neuvillette, I just don’t understand why you won’t let me meet the person who clearly brought you so much joy.”

Neuvillette narrowed his eyes at her. “I believe we were done here?”

Furina put her hand to her heart and made an expression of exaggerated joy. “How heartless! I do hope your wife never sees this side of you.”

He watched her until she left his office and the doors closed behind her. Letting out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifted to the misty painting hanging at the side of his office, almost by instinct. This was also something that had also become a daily routine for him.

He wondered what the painter was doing now. Around this time, you were sure to be in the garden, devoting all your attention to the sunflowers.

Were you waiting for him to come home? He hoped you weren’t. It looked like he would be returning late today. Well, to be honest, he usually returned home late at night, but now with you as his wife, it would be terribly uncouth of him as your husband to come home too late. In addition, he found that his willingness to work into the late hours had decreased considerably. Still, there were times when he truly had no other choice.  

But, there was a small part of him that would very much like it if you did wait for him.

Neuvillette did not know what to make of this new development in his feelings. He examined it, turning it over in his head as one would do with a particularly interesting-looking rock or seashell, then put it away for later. He needed to concentrate on getting through the stack of paperwork on his desk if he wanted to leave work earlier.

But before that…

His hand moved to his desk drawer, which contained a recently-delivered envelope. It was a stroke of good fortune that it had been delivered before Furina’s visit. He’d never hear the end of that if she saw its contents.

He opened the envelope and took out a stack of newly-developed photos. He flipped through them until he reached the photo of a young woman standing stiffly in front of an azure-blue willow tree. His finger idly stroked the edge of the picture. The colors were so vivid and crisp that he felt as though he could reach into the photo and touch the ribbon of your hat or the soft fabric of your sleeve.

It was strange. You were not a particularly cheerful or spirited person, but when he was with you, his heart felt lighter, freer. Not to the extent of forgetting himself or his responsibilities, of course, but… Was this what Furina meant by the “joys of matrimony”?

He couldn’t say he disliked it.

He carefully put the photos back in the envelope. What sort of face would you make when he showed them to you? Or when he showed you the other surprise he had for you? Would you smile at him once again? Would you take his hand in yours? A feeling of anticipation filled his heart. Unconsciously, his fingers brushed against his cheek.

The sunflowers were coming along nicely. They now reached the height of your hip and formed small, tightly closed buds. There were no yellow petals peeking through yet, but you were confident that they would appear in the coming weeks.

You brushed your fingers against the leaves. They were the size of your palm now. You could see little bug bites dotting them. Perhaps you should ask Marie if there were any pesticides on hand.

It was evening now, though the sun was still in the sky. Neuvillette should be back by now. Maybe he had a lot of work today? You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. You had been looking forward to showing him the buds. Was Furina pestering him again?

It had been a week since the date. Neuvillette had sent the photos out to be developed, and you would be getting them today. You were a bit excited to see them.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken so many pictures in my life.

After you finished taking the last measurements, you returned to the house and went up to your room. Your eyes automatically went to the plump azure flower tucked into a vase on your desk. It brought a vibrant splash of color to your elegant but sparse room, and you liked looking at it. It gave you a sense of pleasure. You wondered where Neuvillette put his flower.

I wonder if it will deflate like a balloon if I stuck a pin into the middle, you thought as you sniffed the flower’s cool fragrance. That would make it easier to press, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps it was because you talked about pressing flowers on the date, but it had been on your mind lately. Your fingers itched for your old flower press, sitting in your closet back home. The lily would look striking against a white page. If only you picked some of those wildflowers you had seen on Erinnyes and in Merusea Village... they could serve as accompaniment to the lily, which would obviously be the centerpiece, and a strand of blue leaves from the Weeping Willow could be the finishing touch, forming a wreath that framed everything neatly. It would be a beautiful memento of one of the most beautiful days in your life.

It was strange. Even though your days went on like usual after the date, you felt a little different. A little lighter. Reinvigorated, if you had to describe it in a single word. Your childhood hobbies, which you once considered frivolous and backwards, beckoned to you once more.

For a long time now, you felt like you were barely holding yourself up by the sheer force of will, like a sunflower with shallow roots and a too-heavy head, in need of a support to stand tall and erect. Well, now you did have one.

I guess this is what marriage all about. Two people supporting each other for life. Although, it is rather one-sided in our case.

You bit your lip. It was irrational, you knew. Neuvillette was the powerful and respected Iudex, while you were an impoverished baron’s daughter from the countryside. Your presence in his house was proof of just how much more you relied on him than the other way around. You knew that Neuvillette didn’t expect anything from you, which only made you even more determined to do something for him.

You despised the feeling of owing someone. You hated having to completely depend on someone. That was one of the many reasons why you chose your career path.

But more than that…

Neuvillette’s distraught face flashed through your mind. Though you only saw it once, you never wanted to see that look on his face again.

Neuvillette finally returned home by the time the sky was dark. You had already eaten dinner without him and was reading in the parlor when you heard the front door open.

“Neuvillette,” you called out to him as you went into the foyer. “You came home so late. Did something happen?”

As you approached him, you thought that he looked a bit fatigued, but the tiredness in his face seemed to vanish as he fixed his eyes on you.

“Madame,” he greeted you. “My apologies for worrying you. I had a rather busy agenda today. I hope you’ve already eaten dinner?”

“I have. But have you eaten as well? If not, I can warm up the leftovers for you, or I can ask Marie to cook something fresh if that’s what you prefer.”

“No need for that. I’ve already eaten. But there is something else I want to talk about,” Neuvillette paused. It took you a moment to realize that he was doing it for dramatic effect. So even he has that side to him...how cute, you thought, trying to hide your smile. “I was able to receive the developed photos today.”

He took out an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to you. “They turned out quite well, I must say,” he added.

The envelope was thick and heavy. You must have taken more than a hundred photos.

You decided to look through them in the parlor. Neuvillette followed you, and the two of you sat side by side on the couch as you spread the photos out on the coffee table. Neuvillette was right, they did turn out well. You had been a bit worried that they might come out blurry or at odd angles, but overall, they all looked pretty good, considering the fact that you hadn’t used a Kamera in a long time.

“You have a very good eye for photography, Madame,” Neuvillette remarked as he picked up a photo of the Weeping Willow. “Have you considered pursuing a career in that field?”

“Oh, not at all. My old drawing teacher was much better at it than me, enough to make a living out of it, and she taught me a few tricks.”

“‘Was’? Do you mean...” Neuvillette trailed off.

“Yes. It was a few years ago.”

“Ah...I see. I'm sorry to hear that.”

There was a brief, awkward silence. Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to say something more. You would rather not deal with that, so your eyes roamed around the scattered photos on the table before they landed on something silver. “Oh, my pictures of you!” you said, leaning forward to grab them. “See, what did I tell you, Neuvillette. There’s nothing more picturesque than beautiful scenery and a handsome man.”

Neuvillette leaned closer towards you to examine the photos for himself. His hair brushed against your shoulder, and you could feel the heat of his body against your arm.  A thought suddenly struck you. If you turned your head right now, your lips would brush against his cheek in the same spot where you had kissed it before.

Inexplicably, your face turned warm at the thought. The back of your hand tingled.

Perhaps things didn’t quite remain the same after the date.

It truly had been a spur of the moment move. Your roiling emotions, aided by the instigation of the Melusines, had pushed you to do it.

Later that night, as you laid in bed, your mind replaying that scene over and over to an infuriating degree, you had rifled through all the emotions you had felt at that time. Embarrassment, disbelief, a strange sort of elation…

But the one emotion that had been missing no matter how hard you searched for it, was regret.

Overt acts of affection had never been your forte, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Well, cheek kisses don’t inherently mean anything significant, you had told yourself. Friends do it with each other all the time. And Neuvillette is my friend. A very dear friend. So it’s perfectly fine. Case closed.

Indeed, Neuvillette didn’t seem to look at you or treat you any differently after the fact, so why should you? No doubt he was used to receiving such acts of intimacy—most likely even more intimate—from people who were far more glamorous than you. A brief brush of lips against his cheek probably meant nothing to him.

As for the hand kiss, well, that was something that gentlemen like him did. It also didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

The thought that these kisses were all meaningless did sting a little bit, but considering the circumstances, you had no right to complain.

“I must confess that I do not see what makes these pictures any better than the ones you took of the scenery,” Neuvillette’s voice interrupted your thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the photo, so thankfully he didn’t notice your reddened cheeks. “Or of the Melusines, for that matter.”

“Well, even if you don’t appreciate them, I do. I’ll treat them like a family treasure.”

“A family treasure? That’s a bit excessive, is it not?”

“I don’t think so. These are pretty rare items, aren’t they?”

Since Neuvillette didn’t appear in public much, there were not many pictures of him outside of the rare interview and official events. Hmm, I wonder how much they’ll sell for? Not that I would ever do that, of course. …Well, maybe if I’m in dire financial straits. I’ll ask for Neuvillette’s permission beforehand if it ever comes to that.

You went through the remaining photos. Each one sparked a memory. The Weeping Willow, the sea, Merusea Village underwater—you really had been to all of those places. With Neuvillette, no less. The entirety of that day was only known to the two of you.

The days after your date had been so mundane and normal that you were half-convinced that it had all been a strange dream. Thoughts and memories were such mutable things, after all. Someone like you on a date with the Chief Justice? Not even in your wildest delusions would something like that ever happen. But these pictures were proof that it did.

You knew that you would probably think back on that day for the rest of your life, holding it close to your chest like a treasured gemstone and taking it out whenever times got tough. A sparkling memory of your youth that you would smile back fondly upon in your autumn years, a lone glimmering star in the dark that would inspire you move forward…

Wait, why am I getting so sappy and sentimental? Just because of a date? Ugh, come on now.

You glanced at Neuvillette, who was currently enjoying a glass of water (imported from Inazuma). You doubted that he felt the same way as you about the date. It was probably just like a drop of water in a vast ocean to him.

That thought pricked at you, but you chose to ignore it.

You sifted through the pictures until you came across a certain snapshot. Just as you were about to flip it over, a gloved finger pressed down against the photo, stopping you.

“This one is my favorite,” Neuvillette said. Once again, his face was right next to yours, but you couldn’t read his expression.

“Because you were the one who took it?”

“No,” he said, then turned his head towards you. “Because it’s of you.”

“Neuvillette…” you said after a short silence. You fidgeted with your reddened fingertips. “I don’t understand how you can say things like that with such a straight face.”

“Is it truly so strange?” Neuvillette looked perplexed. “I was simply saying my true feelings. And it is not as though you have refrained from such comments either.”

“You do have a point,” you conceded, although that still didn’t mean it didn’t catch you off guard. You turned your attention back to the photo of you. To be honest, it didn’t turn out half bad. Sure, you looked incredibly stiff and awkward and your hair was a mess and you had no idea what you were thinking when you matched that sweater with that skirt, but…it could have turned out worse.

“May I keep this photo?” Neuvillette asked.

“Of course, but what will you do with it? Surely you aren’t going to put it on your office desk or anything, right?”

“No, of course not. I would put it in a drawer, so I may take it out and look at it whenever I like.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Is it so wrong for a husband to want to look at a picture of his wife every once in a while? Many of the Palais staff also keep pictures of their loved ones on their desks. Why shouldn’t I?” Neuvillette paused for a little bit before adding, “And it would be one way for me to see your face more often, considering how I don’t get many chances of that during the day.”

“Hmm…very well, then,” you didn’t quite get why he would want to see more of your face, but if it made him happy, then you supposed there was nothing to complain about. Neuvillette is actually quite good at this kind of thing, you thought to yourself. Just imagine what it would be like when he gets married to someone he loves.

Now you really felt bad about your (hypothetical) future plans about selling Neuvillette’s photos. I’m an insensitive boor compared to him.

You reached the last of the photos. It was the one of you and Neuvillette standing in front of the sunset.

“You made two copies for the both of us,” you said as you looked at them. “How thoughtful.”

As you gazed at the pictures, you couldn’t help but feel a complex mixture of emotions. There was a surrealness to this photo that the others lacked. If this were a novel, this would be the point where you would wake up and return to reality after discovering something out of place in your life. No matter how you looked at it, you and Neuvillette were mismatched. Two people who were only brought together because of a weird quirk of fate.

But on the other hand…it was a beautiful photo. You had been somewhat worried that the two of you wouldn’t be centered in the frame, but it turned out well. The sunset made for a lovely backdrop. Even though both of you were looking very stiff, and neither of you were smiling.

You remembered that moment clearly. In those few minutes, you felt as light as a feather, like there was nothing tying you to the ground.

Would you ever feel that way again?

“I’m also very fond of this one,” Neuvillette said next to you. When you turned your head, you saw that he was not looking at the photos, but at you. It was then that you realized you were smiling. For some reason, you turned your head away.

“I just realized something,” you said, to cover up the awkward moment. “I’ve taken so many pictures, but I’ve got nowhere to put them all.”

“Ah, about that,” there was an excitement, subdued but present, in his voice. He sounded the same as he did when he introduced you to some new exotic variety of water. “I have a surprise for you. Please, come with me to my study.”

A surprise from Neuvillette? You had an inkling as to what it could be, but that didn’t stop you from putting all the photos back in the envelope and following him upstairs to his study, a domain you had yet to step into. It was a smaller version of his office at the Palais Mermonia, with its large desk, soft rugs, and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. There was also a fireplace here and a cozy-looking couch.

As Neuvillette went to take something out of a cabinet, you covertly examined the shelves. They were mainly filled with books on law, human psychology, history (most of which you’ve already read, having borrowed them from the library), and other similarly serious topics. Oddly enough, you spotted a few children’s picture books. Gifts from the Melusines? Or for entertaining them whenever they visit?

“Madame, here it is,” Neuvillette said, and you walked over to the desk, where there was a large, leather-bound album with metal corners.

“Oh, Neuvillette, you shouldn’t have!” you exclaimed, flipping through the album. There should be just enough space to put all the pictures from your date in it. You looked up to thank him, but was met with the sight of Neuvillette taking out yet another album from the cabinet. This one was wider, with a ribbon tied into a neat bow on the spine. Perhaps Neuvillette bought a second album, just in case the first one wouldn’t fit all of your pictures?

But, as though to dash all reasonable explanations, Neuvillette took out another album from the cabinet, then another. It seemed never-ending, this deluge of albums. After a while, it became sort of funny, like a comedy sketch. You watched, open-mouthed, as the desk became covered with albums of all shapes and sizes.

Finally, after the tenth one, the deluge stopped. Neuvillette looked at you expectantly. “Well, Madame, which one do you prefer?”

“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” you said, backing up a step and surveying the desk. “You bought all these albums just for me to choose one?”

“Yes, I did,” Neuvillette said, nodding as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Was this how the minds of the wealthy worked? It was beyond your comprehension. “I was unsure which one would be most to your liking, so I decided to buy them all.”

“Oh, Neuvillette, you really shouldn’t have…” you said. “This is too excessive. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you went shopping? And you know I’d like anything you picked out for me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise…” Neuvillette said. He looked a bit deflated, and you felt bad.

“Can you return them?”

“It would be highly inconvenient for the shopkeeper if I did so,” Neuvillette said, then added in an abashed tone, “And I was told that all sales are final.”

“How unfortunate,” you looked down at the desk again. Was it possible for anyone to fill up all these albums in their lifetime? Maybe if they had a lifespan as long as Neuvillette’s. “Maybe they could make an exception for the Iudex?”

“I would rather not use my position in such a manner.”

“Well then, how about we give them away?”

“Give them away…” Neuvillette considered your words. “I-I suppose that could work… it is a reasonable idea. Yes, quite reasonable indeed.”

Neuvillette…if only you could see the look on your face right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you decided to hold your tongue.

“Hmm, on second thought, it would be quite rude of me to give away presents from my generous husband,” you said. “I’ll keep them all. Thank you, Neuvillette.”

You patted his hand. He looked down at your hand on top of his, his eyes unreadable. He lightly brushed his fingers against your own.

“You need not force yourself to accept them if you do not want them,” he said quietly.

“But I do want them. They’re from you, after all. We’ll just have to take plenty more photos to get your money’s worth.”

“‘We?’”

“Yes, ‘we.’ Did you expect me to fill up these albums all on my own?”

“Certainly, it would be more efficient if we worked together,” Neuvillette nodded to himself. “Very well, then, Madame. I will assist you in this endeavour.”

With that settled, you decided to put the date photos in the first brown leather album. It had a vintage look to it that you liked.

“It’s getting late, Madame. You should be going to bed soon,” Neuvillette informed you.

“What about you?” Neuvillette didn’t seem to be making any moves to retire for the night just yet.

“There are a few more matters that I need to take care of, but do not worry, it won’t take very long.”

“Okay then,” you nodded, stepping towards the door. But just as you were about to leave the study, a thought suddenly struck you. “Oh, by the way, Neuvillette.”

“Yes, Madame?”

“Has Lady Furina been bothering you about…about me lately?”

Neuvillette blinked. He was silent for a moment before speaking. “She has. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m quite used to handling her.”

“But…”

“There is no need to worry, Madame. She will never need to know about you,” Neuvillette’s tone was firm. “I will do my utmost to make sure it stays that way.”

“…Alright,” you said, but it wasn’t relief that flooded your heart. “Good night, Neuvillette.”

“Good night, Madame.”

You closed the study door quietly behind you.

[fallout4-reacts]

How would the companions react to walking in on Sole nude (not in like a sexual way, but like, got a wound on their thigh during a fight and was in the middle of stitching it up in their room with the door closed or something like that)

That raider was ruthless, sneaking around Sole and opening them up like a fish with their bloody, rusted knife. Sole made it through and made it to Sanctuary owing to the stimpacks, but now they has to assess the extent of their injuries and heal themself. Sole totally removed their garments as the enemy drove his blade directly into their ribcage and managed to slide down to the thigh, shocked by the length of the cut. Then they hear footsteps in the corridor...

Cait : She casts a quick glance at Sole before crossing her arms and leans against the doorframe.

"Not bad, I had one like that before. Ya can come back after you're done patching and tell that fool Preston that I'm not going to take care of his stupid tatos. He wants a planter, but I'm too busy with my bat knocking the heads off the raiders trying to take us from behind."

Sole remains stuck for several seconds before regaining the capacity to speak.

"Can you get out of here now?" they ask, their face expressionless.

"What? Are you going to say you're shy? You don't have to; you're hiding a lovely body beneath your armor."

"OUT!"

Codsworth : (OK, not exactly speaking steps) In a nervose movement, his mechanical arms rotate two or three times on themselves. He tries to keep his cool by moving his three eyes in unison towards the corridor.

"Please excuse my untimely disruption, Mum/Sir; I came to inform you that supper will be served tonight in the common room. All of your companions will be present, but if you want, I may arrange a meal for you in your extremely quiet dining room. I understand if you don't feel compelled to... socialize."

Sole smiles at their butler, but he doesn't look at them.

"That's OK, Cods, eh... When... I'm finished, I'll join you in the lounge to discuss this further."

"Definitely!"

And the robot bolted from the room.

Curie : She runs over to inspect the huge wound.

"Oh no! What occurred? How come you didn't provide proper care?"

"That's exactly what I was about to do."

"This lesion requires disinfection and suturing! Just wait for me; I'll collect my equipment!"

Sole would have liked to object, or at the very least inform Curie that it is not appropriate to enter people's bedrooms without their permission because they may be... naked... but the Synth has already gone. Sole, with a pout, casts a glance at... their own health kit.

Danse : If embarrassment could kill him, he would have died right there. His face is absolutely bloodless. Not that he hasn't seen other naked soldiers; intimacy is a very meaningless concept in the field. But Sole, in this situation. He feels as if he has crossed an unbearable line and committed an awful act. He swiftly turns around and makes a motion to exit, but his brain records the second piece of information.

"You are severely injured!"

"It's mostly superficial, but it is."

"Need…help?"

"No, I'm doing just fine on my own."

"Perfect!"

And he's back in the hallway as swiftly as he came. Sole will have to wait until the paladin explains why he came to see them in the first place.

Deacon : (glitch power) As soon as his eyes are drawn to Sole's nude body, a huge wicked smile grows on his lips, and before his friend is able to react, he is in his underwear. Sole is taken aback and takes some time to comprehend what the spy is saying.

"Is this some sort of nudist gathering? Or is this an Adam and Eve celebration?"

"This is MY room, and I am HURT!"

"Oh, yes!"

Deacon is clothed again before Sole can say anything else. The unfortunate vault dweller is fully swept away this time.

"So, let me look at this wound— 

"No, get out!"

"Alright, alright. Whatever you desire! But if you ever feel like the planet is spinning much faster than it should, give me a call and I'll be there."

And now he's gone. Sole winks, unsure whether the scene was real or if they have hallucinating.

Dogmeat : He lies on the bed with his head resting on his legs, waiting for Sole to finish.

Elder Maxson : He enters and exits the room. It was a single continuous motion. With no change in expression. When Sole is finished, they dress and proceed to the living room, where they find the Elder in a pretty stiff position. The Elder, on the other hand, constantly stands straight.

"You're done, Knight. I needed the report on supermutant activity near Satellite Station Olivia immediately. Did you finish cleaning everything?"

"Not a single mutant left alive, sir."

"Perfect, perfect, perfect. I'm returning to the Prydwen in order to dispatch the soldiers to retrieve any sensitive data that may be left. I intend you get there as quickly as possible."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Knight..."

"Yes, sir?"

"Please never bring up this unfortunate incident again."

"The satellite station's super mutants?"

"You are fully aware of what I mean. Dismiss."

"This is my living room, sir."

"Perfect, perfect, perfect. Have a nice day."

He walks out of the home, and we can hear the motor of a vertibird in the distance. Sole then allows themselves to burst out laughing.

Hancock : His smile becomes so large that he appears to have much less flesh on his face. Sole's expression is devastation.

"Wow, this is my kind of job!"

"I am hurt!"

"Yes, I see. That's too bad. Need a hand?"

"Definitely not!"

"Well, I'll meet you in the lounge."

Hancock walks back. Sole takes comfort in the fact that, despite his debauchery, Hancock never crosses the line, demonstrating some semblance of... respect...

Gage : He enters the room and doesn't seem to be bothered in the least. He begins casually declaring the report of Nuka-World's behaviours.

"Porter! I’m naked!" 

"I saw. But as I was saying about Nisha’s operations— 

"I’m naked and I want you to go out immediately."

"All right, Boss."

Sole is still taken aback by the raider's dashing demeanour. But, well, Gage has undoubtedly seen some green ones in his life, and it does make him any more impressed by anything.

MacCready : His expression is stern, as though it were Sole's fault. Sole, for their part, is frozen in place. MacCready makes a hand gesture with a scowl on his face.

"When you're finished—whatever you do—I need your support to recover—

"Get out!"

"Okay, I'll wait in the living room."

When Sole has finished, they proceed to the living room with the intent of reprimanding the mercenary, but he sits quietly on the couch with a broad smile.

"Aside from that, it was a pretty spectacular view. Not too bad, you know?"

The vault dweller pauses before turning to return to their room. Before they rip their friend's head off, they need to scream into their pillow.

Nick Valentine : The tin can has a swirl function. Sole notices this because as soon as they realise Nick is in the doorframe, they can only see his back.

"God! Pardon! I… I didn’t think. I should have known better. I saw you come in and I wanted to... It's unforgivable, God. Pardon."

"It's fine, Nick, and given how many times you've patched me, it's not like you haven't seen these parts of my body before. It's just that you have the big picture right now."

It makes Nick feel even more uncomfortable. Even though they are over two metres apart, Sole can clearly hear Nick's fans react by kicking in all at the same time. They can't help but chuckle at the scenario, but they have too much respect for the detective to make fun of him.

Piper : A reaction halfway between Danse and Nick."Wow, Blue!" she exclaimed in turning heels. "Sorry! I’ll uh," she’s cut off by her nervous laugh, "waiting for you in the living room. Yeah, I’ll just wait for you in the living room. There. Do you have nuka cola in your fridge?"

Preston : He already possesses the grace and stature of a marble statue. He now has the stiffliness. He's not even blinking. He was about to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. Not even breath, by the way. Sole thinks they could castigate him, but the Colonel's state of stupor is heartbreaking. They stoop, take up their coat, and drape themselves in it. When they speak, they try to employ as calm a tone as possible.

"You wanted to see me, Preston?"

"See... you? NO! Well, uh... you mean like in the expression? Okay, as stated in the expression. Okay. Yes, I was hoping to see you. But not you! I mean, I saw you, I couldn't deny it. I saw you! It’s awful! No! I mean, you're not awful! I regret! I'm truly sorry! I should have made a signal or knocked on the door— 

"Breathe!"

Sole crosses their arms, unsure whether to laughs or be annoyed by this situation. It's the first time they've seen the man in such a nervous state. They decide to take a humoros approach.

"I don't even have a door to knock on. It's all right, Preston; I understand your discomfort and that you don't mean anything."

"Of course not! I am forever thankful to you for understanding me. I mean, to grasp the situation as it is. I'll be in the living room, waiting for you."

"Does a settlement need my help?"

"Yes!" 

"My pip-boy is sitting on the table. Put it on the map, and I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Thank you!"

The man exits the room without further questioning. Sole locates the small community on their map, but they don't see their Colonel again for the rest of the day.

As if he was trying to avoid them...

Strong : The super-mutant frown.

“Puny human should wear armor.”

“Puny human is in their ROOM and you GO OUT!”

“Puny human stupid. Puny human should never let their guard down.”

“GET OUT!”

“Strong get out, but Strong wants to know when human and Strong are going to get the Milk of Human Kindness.”

“GET OUT!”

X6-88 : Hands behind back, straight, and unimpressed.

"Ma'am/Sir, it is not appropriate to deal with such an injury without the expertise of the Institute's doctors."

"X6? Could you just leave my room right away?"

The Courser executes, but only for a few steps in the hallway.

"I reiterate my recommendation that you be taken in to one of the Institute's physicians for a professional body examination."

"Get the fuck away!"

"There is no need to get carried away and use vernacular. Unlike the way you handled the damage you caused yourself on your last assignment, my advice are perfectly adequate."

"I'm perfectly capable of handling the damage I've done to myself, and if you don't want me to do any damage to you, I recommend you take the Sanctuary Grand Tour right now!"

X6 obeys without fully comprehending why the future director places themselves in such a state.

[sullustangin]

Spoiler Free SWTOR 7.5 comments

As it says on the tin.

Honestly, I am really liking the consistent content that Broadsword is putting out. Big patches are 4-6 months apart, little ones are pretty regular. Each patch -- whether it's a big 7.x or it's a 7.5.x -- has something that tries to address a player request/complaint. Since Broadsword took over, the amount of content might be more modest in terms of scale, but it seems like more care has been applied to it. Based upon the player survey and other quality of life improvements -- and even some hasty u-turns--, they are taking player feedback into account. I feel better about the game in Broadsword's hands than I did with Bioware.

Technically, I did not experience major problems with the patch. As reported in the patch notes, there is one cinematic where a key character's mouth does not move. That doesn't break the game, though you may want to wait to record the scene if you're into that. There's another point where you have to hit the right spot on the floor for your jetpack to disappear so you can pass through the next door, but that's an easy fix. Gearwise, I'm seeing reports of being at least in 332 greens, but as usual, player skill may vary.

Patch 7.5 starts the conclusion of the two storylines that have taken the mainstage of 7.0: the Holocron of Nul storyline and the Heta Kol storyline, which started back in 6.2 (pandemic patch). I feel like some of the "huh?" in the plot was baked in from where Bioware started it, so Broadsword is trying its best to finish the story they were given. Is it a busfire? Yes. Is it their fault? No, but they have to finish it.That said, this patch actually makes the player make choices, and you AGONIZE over them. It's not just personnel choices but also diplomatic ones. I haven't felt that way in a considerable amount of time. Yes, you do make choices in 7.0, but it's one person living or dying, be a jerk or don't be a jerk. Lower stakes. The stakes are higher here in 7.5 -- or at least it feels that way. That's an important part of game writing: even if the choice does not matter, there needs to be the illusion that it does -- a certain level of immersion. You do have cascading consequences of choices as well. I'm looking forward to playing this patch on my LS toon to do different choices, more so than I did previously. "Let's not be a jerk this time" is less than compelling than "Can I do it differently, this time?"

Overall, there is progress in the storyline -- this doesn't feel like a "busy work" patch or "here's a new daily area to keep you occupied". (To be clear, I loved the Port Nowhere and Ord Mantell content in 7.4 -- it was a giant love letter to smugglers -- but at the same time, it was a bit of filler, to be honest). The quests you need to do are necessary to gain the trust of a naturally fearful faction of sentients (no spoilers) -- it makes sense they aren't your besties for life right off the jump. You will yell at the screen at the end of the whole thing, because it does make sense and yet it's the worst option for your character, personally, and it's out of your hands. (And it is not out of character for the person who makes that decision...)

No new date night content -- maybe in 7.5.1. There is some romance content for those of us that romanced Lana and Theron.

If you are big into Mandos and have been impatiently waiting for Lane to give you a buzz, this is your time and your hour. If you enjoy training hunter pets in other games, your time has arrived.

There is also a new Spring Festival event on Dantooine. In truth, I find it sort of derivative of the Tillers' reputation you could earn in World of Warcraft during Mists of Pandaria. It isn't exactly the same (we don't have a cooking profession), but the general ideas apply, right down to the dailies involving having a beer and going fishing, as well as scouring the world for seeds. There's also animal rescue built in here as well, so it's a bit of everything for any hero who wants to retire or at least slow down.

But of course, something sinister is on the farm, and so I anticipate Scooby Doo Mystery Hour shall continue as the event carries on.

~~

Given that Broadsword "maintains" games such as Dark Age of Camelot, there has been the fear that they'll move SWTOR into retirement, but I don't think that will happen, as it's still a live intellectual property (Star Wars), they're making gobs of money off it due to Cartel Market, and there's still a player base. (And let's be real, Favereau and Filoni play it, and they do matter to Disney and EA.) I don't know when 8.0 will come out, so we may have another round of storylines in 7.0 -- sort of like how we had an extended 5.0 (Iokath and Traitor Arc) after Bioware was stripped down in 2017. That said, Onslaught was quite good after the KotXX shenanigans and dev changes had settled. I still hold the view that Bioware is a sinking ship, and EA moved the Goose that Lays the Golden Egg to Broadsword for safekeeping. I think we might get an 8.0 in 2025 or 2026, but how that will look or work -- no idea.

[saintbleeding]

May I request Martin struggling to find a sufficiently dramatic way to propose to Jon?

[ID: An eight panel comic of Martin and Jon from TMA. Martin, a fat man with long, wavy hair worn half-up, half-down, circular glasses, and a t-shirt with the slogan "Fish fear me. Who am I." agonises over how best to propose to Jon for the first three panels. As he does so, he says: "This is so stupid. Sooo stupid. Compels me tho. He'd hate Disneyland. Paris is too crowded. Could do it under the stars, but then it can't be far from home (I can't fuckin [caps] drive [end caps])". In the fourth panel, he is scribbling notes, and text beside his head says "brainstorming" and "unsuccessful". In the fifth panel he is asleep on the table, with text beside him reading "tuckered out". From offscreen, Jon says "Darling..." In the sixth, Jon's hand is on Martin's shoulder and he says "Probably this is not the best place to nap." In the seventh panel, Jon, a thin man with short, curly hair, a beard, and many scars, cups Martin's cheek in his left hand. Martin gazes sleepily up at Jon and says "D'you wanna marry me." to which Jon replies "If I say yes, will you come to bed?" and Martin says "Yeah." The last panel is a close-up of their linked hands. Jon says "Then yes." and Martin says "Cool." End ID.]

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[liketwoswansinbalance]

Rafal as an Ever Student AU

I think I came up with a decent portion of this right before I read Rise, in the shower, and the rest of it manifested later on, after reading Rise.

Note: This concept is set as if he were in Sophie and Agatha's year.

He gets a different reception than Agatha despite being a bit like her but less coarse and more refined. He’s seen as broody and cool, not “moody,” “grumpy,” “sour,” and “unpleasant.” It is a total double standard for the Everboys that he benefits from.

Yes, he retains his personality from TLEA and Rise, just minus the Evilness. Aloof, grouchy, and quiet.

He’s not entirely an outcast even if he is unconventional, for a prince. The other Everboys hate him because he’s seen as competition. They poke fun at him and call him “as pale as a Crog’s underbelly.”

Some Evergirls are attracted to him. He sets their hearts aflutter, but most think he is the antithesis of Good in its typical definitions and forms. He is cold and pale, and leaner-built than most. He runs cold, unlike the warm-blooded, sweaty Everboys. (And, he and Sophie love each other. Although, being atypical examples of an Ever and Never as they are, they are quite a contrast and quite the power couple. Even though they are an Ever-Never couple, they have lots of commonalities. Maybe, they’d resemble Tophie, but their dynamic would be leagues better.)

Ironically, he performs badly at things that require true Goodness. The other Everboys mock him for being “impure” like the Nevers mocked Sophie.

Basically, Rafal is no good at doing performative Good. In the way that Sophie initially is bad at performative Evil, in practice.

However, he aces the Good theory lessons somehow. He probably got a 90% on Dovey's Good Deeds test. He just knows the Rules and how everything works really well. He's clever. That's obvious enough. (And, he was a prodigy in primary school.)

The two, Sophie and Rafal, are paradoxes. They are (oddly enough) desirable social-rejects.

One of their first interactions, after he performed badly in a class involving concrete action that Sophie witnessed:

Sophie: I thought you were Good.

Rafal: I am. In theory.

His ability to understand Good theory traces back to his Talent: how he already has a full understanding of how the Woods operate, and can read souls and intentions, meaning he can immediately sense who’s an Ever and who’s a Never, is a walking lie-detector, and senses a betrayal days before it happens. His weakness is that emotional attachment to people dulls his senses in regards to them specifically.

He’s also slightly prescient. He is not a Seer though. He can simply predict outcomes and movements with surprising accuracy. Plus, maybe, he's just observant and knows too much, more than he should, of the inner workings of the Schools’ system.

He probably cheats the system with his performance, anomalous with the actual impure inclinations of his soul. Like, he knows the correct, Good answers to the test. He just wouldn't be compelled to do all of it in reality. He doesn't care enough to. He doesn’t care enough for others. He doesn't care enough for what others think, at all, so that's part of the problem.

In reality, he’s on the less pure section of the Good continuum; he’s just incredibly competent at what he does to be tracked as a Leader. So, his morality is already greyish. But, he has no inclination to do Evil without provocation. He’s just capable of thinking exactly like a villain would, which both impresses and terrifies all the Evers. It looks suspicious, and Tedros is certain he’s secretly a Never.

This connects back to his Talent. Rafal can anticipate what Nevers will do. He’s always several steps ahead as a strategic, long-range planner.

Rafal’s Wish Fish vision is of Sophie. (He had seen her at the Welcoming, and cynically chalked her up to delusional Evil in love, like his Never brother once was. He did experience aesthetic attraction though.) He’s startled by the vision, and the Everboys jeer at him for being drawn to a Never.

Meanwhile, Agatha tries to tell Sophie to try and get him to kiss her, and tells her to wait for him to make the first move. Sophie doesn’t listen and approaches him. She had decided to lure him instead.

But she is not the only one with ulterior motives. At first, Rafal had selfish motives in pursuing Sophie. He, ever the control freak, decides to try and reform her. It would surely be an unforgettable accomplishment, and win him fame and influence as the first Ever to convert a Never to Good. Then, he’d take her as his queen.

And, yes, he admits, he does have feelings for her, but he is unable to process or decipher those feelings at the moment, and he stuffs them down, so he can conduct his morally-questionable experiment without interference.

He finds Sophie amusing and intriguing. Sometimes, he smiles knowingly at the lengths she goes to prove she's truly Good. Because, he once tried to love too and failed. His heart and soul failed him. And, it pains him to think about the Evil brother he had to kill in the purest self-defense a year ago. (Yeah, he's traumatized in this AU too.)

Eventually, he’s a prince lured onto Evil's side. She won their game, like a siren. And, both of them were already morally grey.

If the Storian were to write a fairy tale about them, the first triumph of both sides, it would be very radical for lack of a better word. Very good. Ahem. [Clears throat awkwardly.]

[2uuno]

LeshyFish (Part one)

an inscryption fic

Leshy had been God of Beasts for a long long time. Since roughly around the time humans crawled on land, maybe a bit earlier. He knew all of the beasts in the Ancient Woods by name, knew the birds who flew overhead and insects that scurried underfoot. He could turn into anything, any sort of beast he wanted. He could kill a man with a snap of his fingers, rip them to shreds in seconds. He was the God of Beasts, and that made him a Beast of his own right.

He wasn’t sure, really, what compelled him to watch this particular fisherman. There were several lakes in the Woods, and a few ponds, and fishermen- bold ones- would come in all the time. Leshy never bothered with them. But this one.

The man was a hulking mountain of a human, with a smooth hairless head and a fleshy, loose face. He sat, hunched, over his rod, beady black eyes stuck on a point across the water. Suddenly, he sniffed, glancing to the side, directly at where Leshy stood on the bank of the lake. And then, to Leshy’s surprise, he lifted a hand in a wave.

The God fought the urge to glance behind him, instead slowly raising a hand of his own. He wasn’t used to people just… casually waving to him. He was an ninefoot tall deer god with moss and branches growing from him.

Oh, now his curiosity was really peaked. He trotted closer, tail swishing around his hooves, leaning forward slightly.

The man’s bucket was… empty. Completely and totally empty, despite the fact the angler had been here for nearly two hours. How bizarre.

“Hello,” Leshy called. The man didn’t turn. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

The man’s voice was impossibly low, rumbling through Leshy’s chest, making him shudder. Odd.

“Do you… come here often?” Leshy asked, knowing he didn’t.

The man chuckled. “I am… how you say… new to this place.”

“Ah,” Leshy nodded. The man still hadn’t looked up. “Where are you from?”

“Far away,” The man said. “Swamplands.”

“Hm,” Leshy said. He felt very out of his element, so he sat gingerly at the edge of the pier, his feet dangling just off the water. Fish immediately began crowding to investigate, eyeing his hooves curiously. He bit back a grin. “Well, welcome to the Ancient Wood.”

The man didn’t respond for a while, leaving Leshy feeling just a little ridiculous, before he hummed. “Thank you.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while longer, until the man suddenly pulled in his line. Leshy craned his neck to see around the man’s monstrous body, watching him pull a large bass off the line, examine it, and then toss it back. Leshy’s jaw dropped.

“Why’d you throw it back?”

The man snorted, shrugging. “I do not need the food. My friend, trapper. Lots of meat there.”

“Then why fish?”

The man started to stare out over the water, his jaw clenching, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Why not?”

Leshy hummed, tilting his head. “You’re… strange.”

The man laughed, hard, glancing briefly at Leshy, but didn’t look startled or bothered by the glowing white eyes or the wood face or the fur. Leshy was starting to think he was blind, although how he was fishing remained a mystery.

“So…” Leshy hummed. “Your friend, the trapper… are they around here too?”

“Yes. Live in cabin. Over hill.” The man jerked his head toward a steep hill not far away. Leshy did know of the cabin he spoke of, a shoddily built thing that looked like it was falling apart. “Live there with other friends.”

“Hm.”

The man chuckled, twitching the line slightly. “You are strange man, are you not?”

“I don’t know what you mean?” Leshy said, somehow nervously. For some reason, he didn’t want to be recognized for what he was. He didn’t want to be revered, didn’t want to be feared by this man. He just wanted to keep talking.

“It okay.”

Leshy exhaled. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, why he was so concerned with being seen as… what, a human? He’d never wanted to be human before, why did this man change that?

Suddenly, the man shifted, rising to his feet. “Come. Dinner done- rabbit stew.”

Leshy paused, before rising. The man was impossibly tall, nearly reaching his chin. It made Leshy feel almost small, for once in his life. The man gathered his pole, his bucket, his box of bait, and without a second glance, headed into the woods. Leshy paused, glancing at where he had been sitting, and paused. A small fish hook was imbedded in the wood of the dock, shining in the low light. Leshy knelt, pulling it out, and slipping it in the pouch at his belt.

“Coming?” The man called, his deep voice hardly raising above a rasp, but still carrying across the distance just fine.

“Yes,” Leshy trotted after him, his hooves soundless against the ground. “I’m coming.”

The cabin was full of people, Leshy could see it from the top of the hill. He paused, hesitating. It’s not that he’d never approached humans, but he avoided doing it in this form. He found himself wondering if he could become… less beastly. Humans were animals too, were they not?

And just like that, he was a man.

The fisher didn’t glance at him once while they walked down the hill, and when they reached the cabin and he looked at him properly for the first time, there was no surprise in his eyes. He simply opened the door for him, his fleshy, massive lips twitching into what may have been a smile. If he noticed any difference, he said not a word.

Inside were four people, gathered around a low table, arguing and chatting between themselves. They did not look up as the two entered the room, but one raised a hand in greeting.

“Friends,” The fisher grunted calmly to Leshy. “Safe.”

“Well hello there, stranger,” A man creaked, his voice high and grating. He looked familiar- yes, he was the prospector. Leshy knew his dog, a beautiful hound that lay sleeping under the table. “And who are you?”

“I am Leshy,” Leshy said, grateful his true name was not known. “I am here with…”

“Angeles,” The prospector smiled. “Yaww, I knew he’d make a friend one a’ these days.”

“No,” Another muttered, peering through their dirty goggles. “Angeles with a friend? Couldn’t be.”

“Be nice, Amani,” The prospector said, swatting at him. “Well, we all should introduce ourselves, shouldn’t we? I’m Geoffrey, but my friends call me Clank. This ‘ere is Amani, they’re a mycologist- study mushrooms and the such. Also a fine surgeon, if ye ever need one.”

Amani ducked their head sheepishly, but nodded.

“This is Sela,” Clank gestured at a small wiry figure whose lower face was covered in a scarf. “She shares a body wi’ Hunt, the trapper. They take turns, you know?”

Leshy did not know, but he guessed this must be some sort of human thing, so he nodded.

“And that there is Verona,” Clank gestured to the final figure, a small old woman who was huddled in the corner, gazing at Leshy with knowing eyes. “She don’t talk much, but she knows everythin’ there is to know ‘bout anything.”

“Leshy,” Verona murmured. “Of the woods.”

Leshy paused, before nodding. He knew in that moment that she was something powerful. Not as powerful as him, no, not even close, but far more than a mere human.

“Dinner is ready.” Sela rasped, pulling the pot off the fire.

No one seemed bothered as Leshy took a seat at the table, or as Angeles served him a bowl of stew. He rarely ate cooked meat- preferring his raw, but he dared not complain.

As he ate the over-seasoned food, he glanced around the cabin. A ram’s skull hung on the wall, gazing at him with empty sockets. He shuddered and looked away.

After they were done eating, the people began to disperse. The sun had long since set, and the firelight cast long shadows through the cabin.

“I must be going, now.” Leshy said to Angeles, who looked neither surprised nor disappointed, but merely nodded.

“Will see you,” Angeles said, not as a farewell, but as a promise, clapping his broad hand upon Leshy’s shoulder. “Good bye, Leshy-fish.”

“Goodbye.”

[rottenbrainstuff]

IWTV S2 ep 5 - the good Young Daniel shit. TW: mild suicidal ideation? imp of the perverse? or something?

Nice, I was really waiting for this one. I just love Young Daniel, I find him so incredibly delightful, and I’m trying to pin down why.

Part of it of course is that the actor does such a good job, part of it is how charming I find his big goofy grin, how he flips back and forth between XD and DX so quickly. But I think it’s also because since episode one we’ve focused mostly on nothing but vampires, who’ve had decades or centuries of trauma and grapple with super-human sorrows and fears, and even old Daniel has had a full life of disillusionment and regret and physical pain. But here's Young Daniel and he is so different from everyone, even his future self, so young and naive and fresh, really the absolute antithesis of every other character we’ve got used to at this point. Maybe that's it.

Armand continues to be so pathetic to me in how simple he is. Like, while I watch all this, I'm reading up on V:tM for my daughter's game, and like. Armand isn't running some elaborate political long-game with complicated motivations only a 7th generation methuselah would understand, it's all just so pathetically basic, he wants someone to love him (Lestat, Louis, Daniel... doesn't matter who) and he doesn't understand why no one loves him like he wants. Man I remember his face back when Louis was talking about his Lestat hallucination, the very bare hurt. So lonely and so simple.

Mr. Easeful Death. I found this whole bit extremely disturbing, because Assad is a good actor and the whole thing is extremely comforting and compelling to me, like an anglerfish lure drawing the deep sea fish right in. It would work on me, in a heartbeat, and I find that disturbing to contemplate, like standing at the edge of a big drop and being terrified of how easy it would be to fall. Armand's little merciful hunting that he talks about in that one short story, finding the people who are so tired of being alive, or finding the people who desperately want to be consumed by a demon lover, and becoming that for them, yeah that would work on me, pathetically easy. Don't Fear the Reaper and all of that jazz - I would be gone, gone immediately, gone before he even finished his spiel. Rest - my god, yes please. I am so tired. And so, I found the whole scene so incredibly disturbing. Armand is the feeling of comfort that comes at the end when someone is freezing to death, the relaxing nitrogen narcosis that urges the deep sea diver to do something stupid and sink to their death, the light that lures the little fish right into the mouth of the anglerfish. That is 500% my jam, that scares the shit right out of me, gentle loving death as a mercy, a service, a putting-out-of-misery, yikes. It's terrifying. I fucking love it.

To my surprise though, Daniel fights against it. He has things he wants to keep working on, his life isn't pointless, he likes his life, he wants to live. Broke my heart. Perhaps you could say that my surprise with his reaction comes from my own extremely bad world view. But I wonder if that's not the normal reaction Armand usually gets. He didn't really react to Daniel's objection - I kind of wish he did, I think it would be neat to establish this was something that sets Daniel apart and surprises Armand. Armand thinks he's grasped the threads that will help him unravel Daniel's resistance, he's done this so many times before, but this time it takes a couple tries to get it right. I wonder if it makes Daniel fascinating to Armand as well. Oh well! Just a thought.

Poor old Louis, poor old everyone.

I had mentioned I had watched some video analysis of the show (which pointed out the characters I thought were new were actually based on stuff from the book, which I had forgot/missed, dummy) Seems that, understandably I guess, ep 5 was (is) controversial. And now I feel like a bad fan, because unlike a lot of people, apparently, I like that Lestat has done something that is actually unforgivable. I am not excusing his behaviour, I think it's inexcusable, and that's why I like it. I... yeah man. I dunno. I feel like a bad fan. Everyone talked about how book Lestat would not do that. And at the time when I first watched the ep, that's exactly what I thought as well - Lestat was always a shit but he was never this bad. Episode 6 made me think back on that some more though. I just... Look, I don't really care for book Lestat. Not towards the end, anyway. To me, as the books went on, he became more and more like someone's bad dnd character, the most special and the most skilled with the most sad backstory and this and that and blah blah blah and not enough realistic flaws to balance things out.

In the video it said gross fans are excusing his behaviour like oh, well, it's because of xyz abuse, it's because of abc thing, my gosh I even saw a post saying that you know maybe the reason for the ep 5 fight was all because of Amel (lore stuff - it's this spirit of violence and rage that infects all vampires) and that wasn't the "real Lestat" at all like... noooooo no no no no no no *sigh*. I'm not excusing anything. I mean, the past abuse puts things into context and makes it sad and interesting because it's a perpetuation of cycles of abuse, but that doesn't excuse it. I like that Lestat has done something legitimately inexcusable. I liked how shocked I was in ep 5 and how convinced by his sincerity I was in ep 6 and I like how that left me conflicted and confused. I like that it's difficult. I don't want it excused or explained or handwaved, I want it to stay ugly and uncomfortable, exactly as it is.

Man. I really do feel like a bad fan though. Am I the only one who can't stand the later books and wants this show to be 6 seasons max? Two seasons each for IWTV, Vampire Lestat and Queen of the Damned. They can inject appropriate bits of Vampire Armand as needed. And then after that, stop. No more. Am I the only one? Anyways. Creeping closer to the end of season 2 now. I can't wait to see more of Madeline and Claudia, even if it's so sadly short before the big bad wrap up.

[rollercoasterwords]

one and seven for the ask game!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

hi lia <3 <3

Have you pulled inspiration from media sources other than the property your fic is related to (a plot point from a TV show that has nothing to do with the characters/setting of the fic, a line from a book, etc.)? If so, for which story? Why did you find that media source compelling?

absolutely yes! i mean fic in particular is extremely derivative but honestly all writing is derivative...i am always pulling inspiration from other stories i've loved which have stuck w me <3 gonna focus on wfrau in particular just to avoid this answer getting too long + bc that's what i've been writing most recently but. i've pulled inspiration from the animorphs series bc there are lots of fun ethical dilemmas brought up throughout that stuck w me after reading it; a particular scene from the anime 'banana fish' influenced james's story, though i can't say much more abt that without risking spoilers for the anime...if you've seen it you'll probably know which scene it influence tho lol. the crypt ch was influenced by book 4 of the fablehaven series which i read growing up as a kid--i loved book 4 bc it involved the main characters going on a mission into this underground treasure vault and having to fight past different traps to deeper down...so fun <3 the idea to write a werewolf fighting ring au in the first place came from me remembering a book i'd read as a kid called 'the abused werewolf rescue group,' though i couldn't actually tell you anything abt the plot anymore...and i'm sure there are a thousand other bits & pieces of media that have been floating around in my brain as i've written but those r the main ones coming to mind rn!

7. Share a line or paragraph you’ve written that you don’t think will ever actually be posted in anything! (Or, if you don’t hoard cut sentences and passages like I do, share anything you want that has yet to see the light of day!)

ugh see i really should save my writing better...generally w the way i write i'm not usually cutting entire scenes but it has happened once or twice & i've just. deleted it...

i can share a snippet of a pandalily time war au that i wrote about 2 pages of like 2 years ago but don't think i'll ever return to/complete so it will likely never see the light of day...here u go:

The low chatter—that is something that does not change. Gather enough people into a room, call it a party, close your eyes and it could be 1992 in Los Angeles or 761 in Koumbi Saleh or 1674 in Beijing. Humans will buzz like insects no matter what time you put them in, forever and ever and ever. Sometimes Lily wishes that they still existed; she scrubs the thought from her hard drive before her programming reads it as a virus. Humans do exist, forever. One only has to choose the right time.

This time, she is drinking wine. She is wandering through bodies, smiling and feeling the way it shapes her face. She steps past the marble columns, onto the terrace, under the moonlight that kisses her eyelids so gently when she closes them. She can feel the light, you know. That’s something she can do.

“Red suits you.”

The person beside her is a woman, today, or something like it. She wears the same clothing, white sweep of cloth, though she’s never quite able to get the same softness. It drapes willowy, slow-moving, with fingers that gnarl like roots.

“I’m too tired to kill you tonight,” Lily says, biting through the Latin with her canines like rich meat. “Go somewhere else.”

The woman smiles, slow and creeping, a lichen on the bark of a tree.

“Another place?”

“Another time.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I like the wine.”

She isn’t drinking any. She watches the cup in Lily’s hands. When Lily takes a sip, the woman’s tongue darts out to wet her lips, pink and human.

“They have wine later,” Lily tells her, “And before.”

“Not like here,” the woman says, “Not like tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

“And what makes it different tonight?”

The woman smiles. She is standing so very close. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

fic writer ask game

[blysse-and-blunder]

In lieu of a late summer commonplace book

sunday, august 25, 2024 ~ 6:30 pm

hello again c:

trying to remember what routine feels like, what my rhythm from semesters and work-weeks past felt like, and i think i had a good thing going with a sunday afternoon/evening round-up post alongside filling out my planner and to-do lists for the week. so here we are again, at long last.

reading recently finished a couple of things, several thanks to @un-serial-writer's excellent recs. pictured below in no particular order:

most time spent reading, and therefore the one that feels like the biggest accomplishment: lady, thomas tryon, a best seller from 1974 that was among the many agéd vacation reads and slightly-musty paperbacks in the family cottage. i didn't predict the twist but it sure did take like 80% of the book to actually get to there being some genuine suspense. luckily, i like a slice-of-life and even better when it's, like, an interesting study on how the seventies thought of / wrote about nostalgia for the thirties.

least time spent reading: the intuitionist, colson whitehead, which was exceptional except that i did feel like i had missed something when i finished it. huge fan of the setting and characters and twists and atmosphere and prose, though.

most enjoyable time spent reading: prophet, by helen macdonald and sin blanché, which was so goddam compelling and had such delicious dialogue, only to leave off in the middle of a GOOD SCENE C'MON. delicious character work btw the two leads! delicious concepts and premise! not sure i feel like the payoff from the main threat really...landed...but it almost doesn't matter.

most reluctantly enjoyable / frustrating time spent reading: bunny by mona awad, which i want to discuss with someone who has done an mfa in creative writing (aron. aron please. it's like not even good but it is? something?). its got two sort of big twists and i was very grateful for the first, then sort of disappointed by the second, and then the big reveal at the end actually did gratify me. i will not be forgetting this one but i also, desperately, need to mock it with someone who will understand.

watching most recently, the bear season two, because i am finally catching up with the culture. yes chef please it is so good. i just finished ep. 7, "forks," and oh my god richie. richieee. don't make me so, so proud of you. save me, juliet, etc. i also texted @madonnavenus after watching ep 6, "fishes," because that was a lot. but luckily, luckily, the emotions were manageable through the distancing effect of recognizing that it was acting, good talented but most importantly familiar actors doing incredible work (and successfully making me so, so tense and nervous ha ha). jamie lee curtis you're a queen, and also, god. sarah fucking paulson? gillian jacobs? and then also john mulaney was there, immediately recognizable, taking me out of the fiction in a useful way genuinely. but lest you think i'm forgetting our main loves, here's to sydney and marcus and ebra and tinaaaa.

i love finding these promo images online, they're always so goofy.

listening shout-out to my comfort listens this summer: the new decembrists album as it ever was, so it will be again (2024) and the associated spotify this is the decembrists playlist,

and the two podcasts 99 percent invisible's breakdown of the Power Broker and dimension 20's the unsleeping city, which in fact speak to each other so well and it was such serendipity that i ended up listening to both of them this summer. i think i said out loud, early on, "brennan you mother fucker you've read the power broker" when i was beginning to understand who the villain was going to be, and whether he actually had or not, it's a beautiful thing when your soothing book club urban design readalong ends up cluing you in to a twist in your magical new york urban fantasy liveplay.

playing today specifically i finished another language in chants of sennaar, but for the past month (while getting over covid, l m a o) it's been pokemon. old school 2DS pokemon ultramoon, for anyone who wasn't here when i first inherited it in 2020-- i've evolved three of my favorites, dear sweet primarina, my growlithe is now up an arcanine, and i've gotten my much beloved mareep up all the way to ampharos! i do wish she still looked a little more like a sheep still, the flaaffy evolution is really like peak design imo, but i still love them.

unpopular opinion maybe but i 'm really leaning into pokemon refresh, both as a former neopet kid, someone who is consistently amused by the way this mechanic forced them to animate and come up with cute/affectionate animations for like zubat, and also as someone who, like, does periodically think too much about the real-world uhhhh implications of video games. getting to scritch arcanine or cubone (which can apparently feel it even through? the skull mask? hilarious) makes it feel a little less. mean. to make them fight.

making fallow month+. i have two new patches to sew on the jean jacket, which meant rearranging a few already on there, but apart from pinning things into a possible new arrangement, no progress there.

working on - syllabus plan for fall class-- finish assignment plan tonight, finalize readings and post? by tuesday? - diss chapter 1 which is now four -- you fool. you absolute buffoon. - article draft. see above. - cover letters (x2) see aboev. - raship work because it a) pays me more immediately and b) allows me to feel in control of my life somewhat. we stan a concrete list of achievable tasks and accountability to an external structure. - oh yeah and this translation i'm working on-- for fun!

yeah, it sure is the beginning of the semester next. week.

[greeniegreengreen]

PIRATE AU

Landlubber!Gojou x Captain!Reader

Navy Captain!Nanami x Captain!Reader

Headcannons because I need to get these out there so that means that I am typing with no solid plan in mind to what I am doing

Warnings: Suggestive at the end

Reader is Female/AFAB in this

Landlubber!Gojou who is to be crowned King in a month then married to a Duchess his parents picked the month after

Landlubber!Gojou who isn't so fond of idea of having more responsibilities and a wife he's only seen twice

Landlubber!Gojou who hires your crew and ship to voyage for some artifact his great grandfather had lost as one last hurrah of an adventure

Navy Captain!Nanami who is convinced by onlookers and the current King that you have kidnapped their dear Prince a month before his coronation, given a task with safely retrieving Landlubber!Gojou and bringing you to justice

Landlubber!Gojou who is told by the crew that the Captain of the ship was your first mate who happened to be male as to gain his respect as female leadership was uncommon and frowned upon with where Landlubber!Gojou is from

Landlubber!Gojou who along the trip meets you after repeatedly knocking you over on different occassions because he has yet to develop his sea legs, he's never been so far out before

Landlubber!Gojou who tries to make it seem like it was all your fault on all medts, he fully believes as a Prince he should not be seen this clumsy so he'd much rather blame you to keep his image clean much less to the very crew he payed for

Navy Captain!Nanami who isn't too far off your trail

Landlubber!Gojou who is convinced you are a just a crewmate and nothing more which leads him to treat you no better than any other commoner he's met

Landlubber!Gojou who despite trying to treat you like nothing, starts to lust over you

Landlubber!Gojou who tries to drunkenly flirt with you on night admitting he found you "oddly compelling", you aren't too entertained by the sudden change in attitude but drunken words are sober thoughts

Landlubber!Gojou who has no recollection of the night before, he wasn't a lightweight, far from it actually, it was just that the liqour pirates drank was heavier than the wine he had at the castle

Landlubber!Gojou who notices your slight change of behaviour towards him, you constantly tease him about how blacked out he was while he fears he may of said something

Navy Captain!Nanami who catches up to your ship and begins to set his soldiers to board your ship, attack and find the Prince

Landlubber!Gojou learning after weeks of being out at sea together that you're first mate was a stand in as soon as he sees you barking orders to your crew and receiving a "Yes Captain" back

Landlubber!Gojou who doesn't need to be told twice to find a place to hideout, both for his protection and to not be taken back to his homeland yet

Navy Captain!Nanami who is very fast to try and get him aboard his ship causing you to go and prevent that, Landlubber!Gojou was a very good paying client and you didn't want to lose him yet

Captain!Reader who has Navy Captain!Nanami in a real struggle as they manuever swords in hand along her ship

Captain!Reader who gives the request to her closest crew mates to bring holes to the navy ship's sails before disconnecting them and getting them out of the situation, Navy Captain!Nanami doesn't hear any of this as you keep overpowering him in battle so his attention is to figure out a way out of this and to remove you of your sword

Navy Captain!Nanami who doesn't realise that they are now sailing away from his stationed ship before you subdue him with the help of your first mate and let him take im the situation he is in

Captain!Reader who gives him two options, to either choose to swim with the fishes or renounce his title and join them, you were quite impressed with how long he held up against you

Navy Captain!Nanami who was ready to cuss you out before Landlubber!Gojou stepped in to give a third being that you kept him as a prisioner till you reached a port and left him there, he looked at the Navy Captain and gsve him a sheepish smile and wave before initiatin conversation with him to find out the latest news on his country

Navy Captain!Nanami who is beyond pissed to find out that Landlubber!Gojou had left by choice and wasn't kidnapped like his father had said

Captain!Reader who decides to go with the third suggestion and charts a route to a nearby port

Landlubber!Gojou who confronts you in your office once things have settled on why you didn't tell him the truth from the beginning, cornering you against your wall as you try to defend your case annoyed that he had the nerve to come to you with such //audacity//

It's getting to the point you're both almost shouting at each other before he tackles your lips with so much want, you needing to release all that fervor he caused kissed him back

The kiss itself starts to escalate as the small flame that was slowly brewing inside of Landlubber!Gojou the duration of the trip starts to grow bigger with each touch of the other's body

You pull away from him, he follows your movement trying to close the gap again before you speak

"Is that the reason you came in here?" You tease

"No, but it will be the reason I stay" he lunges forward locking you both in another deeper kiss

[mdhwrites]

Frieren and the Timelessness of Fantasy

I am not about to talk about the themes of Frieren. I am not about to talk about what it does differently than other fantasy shows. I will not try to call it subversive or groundbreaking for I do not believe it is actually either of those things. It is oftentimes smart, clever, inventive and fun but it is still at its core a fantasy adventure.

The thing about fantasy adventures though is that the best, those that resonate with an audience, don't need to do anything new. They just need to be good. Frieren is one of the best.

It's no one singular thing either. Harry Potter is not going to rot into the next generation's brain because of just one thing. Lord of the Rings has no lasted over a century because of one element that stands above all other fantasy literature. Even Lovecraft still outshines most modern takes not because he was the first to think of fish people but for how he decided to mix that with a dozen other elements. Yes, all three of the works I have stated also have come under, justifiably, scrutiny for the underlying beliefs, messages, allegories, etc. like that but does that mean they have stopped resonating?

No. For a scared, powerless child will always want a story about how they can rise to greatness or had a secret destiny or even just can escape to a place that seems so much greater than the world they live in and that they can potentially conquer and fight back in. A person will always wish to believe in the nobility of a good heart and the power of a band of people coming together to overcome a darkness that seems bigger than them all but can never devour the light which is friendship and determination in the face of evil. People will always be afraid of things they cannot describe and connect with others who feel powerless to voice those fears except to scream at nothing and wish that some greater force than their own mind can be blamed for the madness that writhes within.

And for Frieren, people will always wish to both be able to go on an adventure and experience all of its joys, while also reminiscing about the past and the joy it has brought them. It is, more than maybe any other fantasy work I've ever seen, the story I've seen that truly loves what a fantasy world is from back to front. From its most ancient origins to its freshest faces to all the times inbetween, it will resonate for all of those who wish to seek a trip with those they care about and connect with them as each step we take, we know others take with us, whether now or before.

This is something I genuinely love about the fantasy genre. That which resonates is so often divorced from so much of reality and our time period that it ends up actually forming a purer bond than something more closely tied to the troubles of the day. Not to say those works do not have their place, they're potentially more important than timeless fairytales, but that does not mean we should not have these works that will always comfort. That will always scare. That we can pass from hand to hand like a folk spell and believe that they have power just because that is how we perceive them. That the same joy a man fifty years my elder enjoyed can be one I find the exact same joy in.

I imagine almost every fantasy fan has one fantasy work they consider to be this for them that they don't say is under-appreciated but that it is under-consumed. For me, I have two main ones. I adore the old RPG Legend of Dragoon and think it tells a very compelling tale of interwoven destinies, of how our worlds can expand so much faster than we expect but also of how the strength we draw from our friends and loved ones can help us face those. My other is the Ranger's Apprentice (at least before Royal Ranger). The excitement of not just flashy combat but of the grand majesty of war, of knights and rangers who are larger than life while also being all too human. Of how we can grow and become even better than our masters and change the world just by never being willing to stop dreaming of a day when we can be more than what we appear to be. That determination is truly all it takes to make it someday. It is to this day still my favorite book series.

And for fantasy anime? I don't know when I'll find one I think that is going to beat Frieren for me, not quickly at least, but I look forward to when one can sit next to that old elf and begin telling its tale too. Not to best it but to sit in the same circle at the round table of all the other works that still inspire to us to this day.

What works do you personally consider deserving of that table? Let me know and see you next tale.

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I would argue that the reverse of this blog btw would be me talking about how much I find the 'subversion' of fantasy tropes tired and tedious because subverting the genuine, human connection that most of the best fantasy stories include is just going to make your story look immediately dated and annoying. At least to me.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.