#legit frozen in fear

[nights-at-crystarium]

So uh. Just caught up with the recent tumblr news. Shit's still not confirmed, but if you're moving to bsky, here's mine. For the record, other major platforms already train ai on posts, I wouldn't trust bsky not to join the fun eventually. Personally I think nowhere's safe anymore, it's exactly as depressing as it sounds. I'll keep being active here until the hellsite really goes down in flames.

[aria0fgold]

I just saw a big lizard drag a small lizard into the pits of hell and I hear em struggling.

And now it's quiet...

I think I just witnessed a murder, am I going to lizard jail?

[cookie-crumblr]

can you write a Dezrend x fem shapeshifter unicorn! Reader where reader is in their unicorn form and is frolicking around a field then Dezrend finds reader, noncons, then over stims reader until reader is dumbed out and enjoys it?

Oh fuck YESS OMFG

MINORS DNI!

F!Unicorm Reader x M!Dragon OC!

CW: F!reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, reader and oc are shaeshifters basically furry?(they’re like legit animals i never know how to tag this XD), ML has 3 peens, inhuman anatomy, NON-CON, dumbification, monster fucking but they’re in humanoid form eventually, massive size difference and kink, stomach bulge, p in v, p in b, dacryphilia, cervix fucking, furry?(we are a unicorn fucking a dragon LOL), also idk if horses have clits i don’t really wanna know tbh so please don’t correct me if not XD we are a unicorn so just pretend, reader has long hair, cumflation, creampie,

Your beautiful mane flows around you as you canter through a field of little round white flowers, in a deep green forest clearing. You felt safe concealed by a deep fog. The flowers stalks tickle your strong legs as you hop over them. You giggle and prance, stopping only to roll onto your back in them for a minute. When you look up and see a dark and terribly massive dragon’s shadow flying overhead.

You flip back onto your powerful hooves as fast as you can, but when you look back, you watch as the dragons slit pupils meet yours through a break in the ground clouds in a snap. It’s too late, it’s already aware of you.

You’re frozen, staring into those black slits as they get closer swiftly crashing onto land before you. The dragon’s wind blows all of the flowers over, clears the fog, and its gargantuan body crushes a portion of the field beneath it. It’s hands and feet crush more as it approaches you.

Frighteningly, the ground shakes with each step, and so do your legs.

A scaley, taloned finger as big as your body meets your chin and tilts your face up, you’re snorting in fear and you finally regain some mobility shifting weight from hoofed leg to hoofed leg. Wind kicks up around you and the field as the mighty creature shrinks itself to only just bigger than you.

You don’t mean to but you look in between it’s legs (which to your credit, is just slightly below your eye level), there are three very gigantic, weeping cocks hanging down.

Your eyes widen in even more horror and you fall onto your equine ass trying to back up to get away. You roll over and try to run, but your hooves slip against the morningdew-damp foliage and pull at the roots, tripping you more and not letting you stand. You thought you would get eaten! Not that!!

youre prone and exposed for him, and he takes advantage, pouncing on you in an instant. Your panic swells, the blood pounding in your ears, you buck wildly.

You feel the things slither between your legs. They’re wet and they rub you down your slit as he mounts you. Two tips pierce your entrances, and it is already the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, you winnie, air puffing out of your nostrils in little clouds, and your front hooves are desperately try to pull yourself up, trying to get you away.

“Little Unicorn, legendary, but so weak.” He pushes all the way in, you feel your vagina stretch to accommodate his size, and your stomach bulges onto the ground beneath your laying form. You can’t breath! You’re so absolutely stuffed you can’t get air, and your head spins. You see the blue sky blackening.

His third hefty and hot cock slithers over your stuffed cunt, rubbing you deliciously with a mind of its own. It thickly heats up your entire being with every minuscule movement of the dragon adjusting.

You feel like you might pass out, breathing in and in and in but getting no air, until you feel a sudden tearing on your left flank and winnie louder, now able to breathe once more.

The pain is sharp, searing even. You turn your head enough to see that his talons have raked into your previously unmarred flesh. Fat tears fall down your gorgeous snout. You’ll have those scars for the rest of your life, however short that may be now.

“Hah! Cry, little legend!” His hips thrust, forcing his dicks deeper inside you, they stretch your gummy walls and feel as though they’re tearing you apart. His heavy dragon balls slap underneath you and amplify these stirring hot feelings in your core. A wailing moan leaves you as your body starts to accept him.

Two front hooves dig into the dirt, the flowers around you bend this way and that peacefully in the breezes as they ignore your peril. Your back hooves are practically crushed beneath the weight of this creature. He starts to slide in and out of you, picking up more speed as he does.

His hips buck into your rear, and his dicks feel as tho they’re tearing you apart inside, while his third pleasures you beyond imagine. your tongue lolls to one side as the surmounting pleasure builds. it slides putting more pressure onto the outside it feels like it’s specifically searching for your clit.

His sharp talons wrap around your neck and squeeze without puncturing your skin there, he pulls your neck and makes your back arch, his dicks plunge even deeper as your body takes him easier and easier. Soon The pleasure is all you feel, the pain not even a memory any longer in your now dumbing head.

He turns you and him at the same time into humans, he seems to have kept his three separate dicks, as your holes remained stuffed.

Your hair in human form is long and unkempt, you’ve never chosen to be in this body. Being a unicorn is just so much better.

A voice falls from your now plush little lips, and your practically hairless skin glistens and sparkles in the sun. Nails and knees dig into the soil beneath you, as your ass is up as high as it will go for the dragon in man form behind you, connected to you by the thick slithering members still penetrating you.

“Ah!!~” Crying out, you can’t help but want more at this point! Your coil is twisting and burning and building and making you beyond dizzy, you need it to snap! “Please! M-more!”

“Hah! Good little unicorn, taking me so well, you even like it now, huh?”

“Mhm!” You practically slur, you feel light headed and stupid you’re getting so fucked out, your body having been taken well beyond its limits, but you’re in bliss. If he kills you, it might be just the perfect end… But you’re only concerned with the right here and now. And right here and now, you’ve got one dick in your intestines and one curled up inside your cervix, and the last cupping your burning sex.

You push your body back into him, trying to take more and more! Your ass fits into his hips like a heavenly puzzle piece, you chase your own high. he squeezes your throat harder, definitely leaving a bruise, you choke out drunken moans, enjoying the stars in your vision as they blip in and out of your fading vision. He lets up enough for you to remain conscious, but keeps you in that sweet spot between dimensions.

The cocks inside of you pulse and grow, and your walls contract at just the right time, he bloats your stomach full of his dragon seed. You’ve finished in a blinding flash, and clarity hits you. His cocks are still inside you.

[storiesforallfandoms]

not what it looks like ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1812

request?: yes!

“Hi I was wondering if you could do one for colson, Where the r goes through his latest dm for a tik tok trend and it's megan flirting with him ,and so reader confront s him. They get into a huge fight like legit throwing stuff around the house ,and r stays in the guest bedroom but he wants to Apologize. So he finds the key ,and preferably make up with hot angry smut if your up for it. Thank you for your time - anon🪅”

description: in which she finds a suspicious message when she goes through his dms

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, hints of cheating but no actual cheating has occurred, fighting and yelling (no actual yelling and throwing stuff tho sorry), rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

You often found yourself wanting to try whatever couple’s trend was going around on TikTok, and Colson was always game. He liked how excited you got to show him, and how happy you were whenever e said yes to trying a trend. It was never anything you did to post online, you only did it for your own enjoyment. It was all innocent fun.

You thought this trend was going to be the same. Oh, how wrong you were.

Colson was basically expecting the question when he heard your phone go silent in the next room and your footsteps approaching. He turned to watch the doorway and smiled when you predictably appeared.

“Can I see your latest DM?” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that the trend, or should I be worried about where this is coming from?”

“No! It’s a trend!” you assured him.

He laughed. “Okay. Here.”

He passed you his phone. You took it and sat on the couch next to him. He turned his attention back to the song he had been writing as he let you do whatever you wanted to do.

The trend you had seen was simple: someone asked their partner if they could see the last text message on their phone. It always went one of two ways: either the last text was something mundane or funny, or it was something incriminating. You had no fears about what could be on Colson’s phone, especially when he was so quick to pass it over to you. So you decided to look at his latest Instagram DM instead. You figured it would be funny to see what fans had been saying to him recently.

What you didn’t expect was for there to be a message from a verified account. An account that you knew.

Megan Fox.

But it wasn’t the account itself that brought you pause. It was the message preview.

“I had a great ti - ”

You clicked the message without a second thought. The full message read, “I had a great time yesterday. Let me know when you want to do it again!” The message was followed by a ink emoji and a smiling devil emoji.

Your mind was running a million miles a second. What could the message mean? Well, clearly it meant Megan and Colson had met up at some point the day before, and planned to meet again. You couldn’t remember what Colson had told you he was doing the day before, so you couldn’t think of what possible reason there was for them to be together. Especially something that would require a wink and devil emoji. Unless...

No. There was no way. Colson would never cheat on you. He loved you and he was loyal to you. You had no reason to doubt that.

At least, you didn’t until you saw Megan’s message.

You were having so much internal turmoil that you didn’t realize how long you had just been staring at Colson’s phone. He looked over to find you frozen and lightly nudged you with his shoulder.

“Is the last message that traumatizing?” he teased. When you didn’t respond, worry sunk in. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

You held the phone out to him. He took it and started reading the message that was still on the screen. “What does this mean?”

His face didn’t show any signs of panic or guilt. You figured that should be a good sign, right? He wasn’t acting as if you caught him in a lie or anything. But then again, he could just be having a very good poker face.

“We had her in a video yesterday,” he replied. “It was crazy. You’ll love it when you see it.”

You nodded, but your mind was still distant. Had he told you he was filming yesterday? Not that he had to tell you everything he ever did. You were both adults, you didn’t need to keep tabs on one another. But he usually told you about his video shoots, or anything to do with his music. You figured he would’ve told you about having Megan Fox in one of his videos especially. That was a huge deal.

He gave you a look. “Do you not believe me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you said.

“You didn’t say anything. Babe, why would I lie?”

You didn’t point out the obvious: that he’d lie because he’s cheating. But he read your expression and said, “I’m not cheating on you.”

“You wouldn’t tell me if you were,” you blurted.

Colson looked at you. A humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’d think I was cheating on you. I have never given you any reason to think I would, and now because of this one message that I already explained to you, you think I’m cheating?”

“Well what else am I supposed to think when I see a message on your phone from another woman saying she had a ‘great time yesterday’ and adding flirty emojis?”

Colson rolled his eyes and stood from the couch. You did the same, following him out of the room. “Where are you going?”

“Why? Are you afraid I have Megan hidden in the next room?”

“Okay, maybe I am overreacting, but can’t you see this from my point of view? You have a message from another woman saying you were together yesterday. That she wants to meet up with you again. How else am I supposed to take that?”

“You’re supposed to believe me because I’m telling you nothing fucking happened! We got Megan for a video shoot and the video had to do with her playing a crazy stalker. That’s why she sent the devil emoji. There is nothing between us!”

You stepped back at his raised tone. You felt a lump forming in your throat. Maybe you were being irrational. Maybe you should’ve taken the explanation that Colson gave you and believed him. But he didn’t need to yell at you like that. He had never yelled at you before, not even during past arguments.

You choked back the lump and said, “You can’t blame me for thinking the worst when I saw that message. It sounds flirty, like you two were together in an intimate scenario yesterday. And I know you’ve never given me any reason to think you’d cheat, but cheating isn’t an obvious thin, Colson! Cheaters don’t announce they’re cheating every time they leave the house. I’m sorry for accusing you, but you can’t blame me when I saw that message with no context, from a woman way more beautiful than I could ever be. Silly me for thinking you wouldn’t want to fuck Megan Fox of all people.”

You turned before he could say anything else and nearly ran up the stairs to your shared bedroom. Maybe you were childish for running to your room to escape an argument and cry, but now that you had voice your insecurities out loud, you needed to get away and allow your emotions to run free.

That was really what this was all about: your own insecurities. You had always been insecure about the women Colson was surrounded by. He was a famous rapper, he had gorgeous groupies throwing themselves at him at every show. He was linked with actresses and other female musicians that you found to be so much more beautiful than you. You were terrified of the day when he realized he could do so much better than you and broke up with you for one of the beautiful women he was surrounded by almost daily.

You were laid on your bed, the tears seeming to finally run out when you heard Colson’s footsteps approaching the room. You sat up and tried to wipe your face before he found you, but you were sure your attempts were for nothing. Your face was definitely puffy and tear stained beyond a quick fix. Colson stood in the doorway, looking at you with a hint of sadness in his eyes as well. You couldn’t look at him for long before you gaze dropped to your lap.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

“No, baby, don’t be sorry,” he said. He walked over to sit on the bed next to you. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Like what?” you asked, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

“Like what you said about Megan being more beautiful than you. There’s no way that just suddenly came out of you just then.”

You sighed and shook your head. “I’ve felt it for...a long time.”

“Like how long?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just started happening. One second I didn’t care about anyone else in the world, and then the next I was seeing the way other women looked at you and how they talked about wanting you. Then I started to notice how beautiful they all were.”

He gently took your chin in his hand and made you look up at him. “But you’re beautiful.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, but I’m not Megan Fox.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Megan isn’t who I want. Neither are any of the women who try and throw themselves at me while I’m on tour, or any models or actresses or musicians ever. I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and only you. You are the most beautiful person in the world to me and no one will ever change that. I would never hurt you by sneaking around with someone else. You are my everything.”

Tears were starting to form in your eyes again. You leaned into Colson’s arms, burying your head in his chest so he wouldn’t see you crying again. He put his arms around you and held you to him, allowing you to go through whatever emotions you were feeling.

You had been stupid to think he was cheating. You knew that even in the moment. But, your mind was so clouded with the message from Megan and your own insecurities that you weren’t thinking clearly. You felt silly about it now, but you were glad to have talked it through with Colson and to have cleared the air.

“What did you have Megan do you to that she sent you a devil emoji?” you asked when you finally were able to stop the tears and pull away from his chest.

“She tied me up and electrocuted me in a bathtub,” he responded.

You laughed. “What?!”

“I’m being dead serious. That’s just one scene. The whole video is her essentially just torturing me. She had a blast with it. I’m a little concerned that she’s so eager to do it again.”

You giggled and leaned into his embrace again. The two of you laid back on the bed as Colson recounted the shoot from the day before.

[books-and-catears]

Unravelling Solomon

(many spoilers for chap 11)

Some personal theories and trying to look at the story from Solomon's lens.

Let's state some canon things we have noticed in the story of both Obey me and Nightbringer.

MC is Solomon's one true soulmate/twin flame

Solomon took an instant liking to MC in the very beginning, calling it mere curiousity.

- I think he sensed a Kindred soul. Just like Thirteen says we both seem like 'cheerful idiots' at the very first glance. Wouldn't Solomon would be even quicker to detect a soul similar to his own?

Thirteen claims our soul sparkles the same way Solomon's used to, it still does the same but just a little different.

- Solomon has gone through some unspeakable trauma damaging his soul to that level. And he's hyper protective that MC doesn't go through the same.

Solomon's card: Threads of Fate. MC's first red string was connected to Solomon.

- Okay, this might be a big stretch but hear me out. We all know Solomon's magic is strong and mostly accurate even in its most experimental stage.

So when his powder of revealing soulmates ended up showing all of MC's bonds - it inadvertently showed the strongest first. The strongest bond between two most similar souls.

....

Solomon's Obsession with Lucifer's Pact

Do you know who has consistently been a direct threat of MC's survival?

From the first dance, as he threatened MC while almost snapping their wrist in half to his most recent attempt on MC's life in the past - it has been Lucifer.

The Lucifer who would rather use his powers and hurt his own brother and an innocent angel just to exact his justice on a meddlesome human (cue the scene where MC protects Beel and Luke).

The Lucifer who doesn't hesitate to lose his head and attempt to destroy MC even though he noted how MC has been slowly and surely healing his brothers.

The same Lucifer who even now, tries to eliminate you as a threat even as his own brothers vouch for your integrity and you try to prove your good intentions.

Solomon watches helplessly as you constantly throw yourself at the mercy of this fallen angel.

In season 2, Solomon legit states that he would have stabbed Lucifer to save the three realms himself if it didn't upset you. Imagine how he must feel knowing you almost killed yourself to save this very demon - only to be hurt by this demon again.

Wherever Lucifer goes, his brothers tend to follow. He's the pillar holding the brothers together. Solomon knows the only way to keep Lucifer and some of his equally volatile brothers , he simply needs a pact with him.

What better way to ensure Humanity's safety, especially your safety, than to control the most probable cause of chaos?

But because he couldn't do that, so instead he started MC to be stronger in Magic, fortifying the defense on MC. Making sure MC can make the pacts to protect themself and humanity along with Solomon.

But still he knows, you're too kind for your own good and you don't have a heart cruel enough to give up on the demon brothers no matter what they do to you, so he still hopes to make the pacts himself so he can do what's necessary when things get worse.

.....

Solomon's Wrath and Request

Can you imagine how Solomon might have felt in the timeline where his MC was killed? The growing rage and guilt that it all happened so far away where he couldn't be there to save you? Barbatos had to merge the timelines for a reason.

Now imagine him seeing it all happen again, the fear in your eyes, your body frozen never even attempting to save yourself because you don't want to hurt the demons. But this time he's here - and he won't let it happen.

Do you know how much rage must bubble under his skin to reach up to this throat and peek through his never faltering smile?

The reason he begs and pleads you to choose humanity over the demons, it's only to make sure you're not caught in the wrong side of the war.

Of course he manipulates demons into pacts and acts shady around them, because look what happened to MC when all they did was be righteous, helping the brothers them the right way.

[thatfrenchacademic]

Justice as spectacle in Fontaine, or a too long word vomit from a tired PhD in Law gushing over Genshin 4.0

Alternative title: “Justice must be seen to be done”, a visual playbook by Genshin 4.0

Intro: This is a valid use of a PhD in law, actually.

I made the mistake of playing the 4.0 update of Genshin while I was finalizing my PhD in law and politics, and the result was my brain refuse to think about anything else than judicial performativity and the use judicial spectacle in Fontaine. So time to make good use of 9 years of University by dissecting why I absolutely love how Fontaine’s justice system is presented. It was initially much longer and covering why justice as a spectacle is not necessarily an issue or sign of a disfunctionning legal system,  then what exactly about the Fontainian justice system is actually fucked up, but it got too long so I’m keeping that for the indeterminate future. So the pitch of this thing is: Mihoyo is basically providing us with an animated First Person POV game version of legal ethnographic works on justice and the courthouse, and it is really cool.

And since I am a nerd with both too much time to read and to play, we are making this a proper academic, with literature and all, because listen to me, LEGAL ACADEMICA IS COOL, ACTUALLY, and law and literature at large is a genuine field of study that we, as a society, need to talk about more.

[also there is non-zero chance that I edit this brainrot and submit it for publication at some point]

Warning: I am basing this on 4.0, up to and including Act IV Chapter II (hence no discussion of the prison system) and if Mihoyo thwarts the whole thing with 4.1  [oops I am late so now 4.2, since 4.1 did not thwart it] then let’s do what we do when new results contradict existing theories in academia and just collectively agree to ignore it.

TL;DR: Someone at Mihoyo read Simonett’s 1966 essay on The Trial as One of the Performing Arts [Here, just read it, it is fascinating] and decided to make it everyone’s problem

Part 0: if this was not Tumblr.com I would make a recap explaining broadly what Genshin and Fontaine are but since you are reading this I’m going to assume you already know the context.

Part 1: Ok so how does the Fontanian Justice system work, exactly?

Alright, so each area of Teyvat has 1) one core theme/value and 2)a threat to that core theme/value.

Mondstadt has Freedom and people living in fear of a dragon.

Liyue has Contracts/order and the pandemonium of having Rex Lapis killed.

Inazuma has Eternity and being virtually frozen in time.

Sumeru has Knowledge and being entirely manipulated by the Akademia.

Fontaine has Justice and… Justice being parodied into a spectacle?

WRONG.

Because the spectacle of justice, especially the way it is done in Fontaine, is not antithetic to Justice itself. Spectacle is part and parcel of Justice and of any courthouse. Sure, all the dials are turned to 11 and y’know, it is legit called an Opera, but that is more the writers being a bit on the nose and adding drama for the player. The spectacle of Justice, itself, is not that far off from reality. And, hot take but bear with me: it is not (necessarily) a problem.

Ok, let’s dive into what we know of the justice system in Fontaine.

Broadly speaking, we have seen the criminal justice system, and it is an accusatorial, or adversarial model. It’s the US-style criminal procedure: you have a defendant trying to prove that they didn’t do it your honor, and a prosecutor proving that they totally did it your honor. To avoid this becoming a fistfight, you have a strict procedure to follow outside but especially inside the Court, and in the end, a neutral third party decides on the outcome or the trial.

Ok, now let’s zoom on a few things, and why the theatrics of them are actually very common.

Furina, our cringefail darling, is the prosecutor. And they get a lot of stuff right regarding the role of the prosecutor! She decides whether or not to prosecute, based on the information that she has, and whether she likes her odds or not. Fittingly since she is the Archon, the prosecutor in a trial represents the State, the interest of the State (the judge ! does ! not!). It makes sense that Furina, the ruler (theoretically) would be prosecutor and not judge. Moreover, and as we see plenty of times during the trials, Prosecutor Furina is not concerned with the victim, and not even necessarily with the truth; the prosecutor wants to know how likely they are to obtain a conviction in the end. Her job is to be convincing enough to establish a legal truth.

Neuvillette, for his part, sometimes look terribly powerless… but friends, that is what a Judge sitting during a criminal case often is. The first part of his job is to find sufficient information for the prosecution to decide whether or not to prosecute; he is supposed to be entirely neutral at this stage. He kickstarted the investigation straight after the death of Cowell, and was also the one starting investigation on Vaughn right after Lyney is proved innocent. He gathers enough evidence, hands them over to Furina and asks “So? Are you game or do you want to leave that alone?”

And once the prosecutor has decided to move forward with prosecuting, his job is to make the procedure move along, take some decisions based on new information, ensure all respect the rules (hence Childe’s immediate smackdown when he starts to act out a bit too much at the end. My man is here to make sure the rules are enforced and that also applies to Snezhnayan gremlins). In the liminal space of the courthouse, he is the supreme authority… over the procedure. He can tell anyone, including Furina, to stfu k thx. He starts and stops the trial. He allows witnesses to be heard or not.

And the last party involved at this point is the defense, usually the Traveler and any adorable twink we befriended that day [good for you, Traveler, good for you]. They present evidence, they have to be convincing, it’s basically Ace Attorney, we know that part.

Part 2: Mihoyo makes it clear that we are all actors in the Courtroom

Ok, first moment of pause.

Even though these are the most basic parts of a criminal trial, they are ALREADY steeped in drama and theatrics, both IRL and in Fontaine.

First off, Furina plays a prosecutor, Neuvillette plays a judge and the Traveller plays the lawyer.

No but really: they play their role in the Courthouse.

The game painstakingly presents Furina for the first time not as a prosecutor in a courthouse but as a cringefail princess. When we see her initially welcoming the Traveller, going “Fight Me” at them in the streets of Fontaine, she is not a prosecutor, she is just Furina the cringefail princess.  We meet Furina as Furina, and later on only, we see her with her Prosecutor face. Furina is not a prosecutor, outside of the Courthouse.

I don’t even have to explain how much Traveler plays lawyer. We are, and I cannot stress it enough, NOT lawyers (yes, even you who developed an unhealthy obsession with Ace Attorney before Genshin). The developers even took the time to develop an entire new gameplay to really, really highlight that is a behavior that the Traveler can only have in the Courthouse. Traveler is not a lawyer outside of the courthouse.

Neuvillette is a bit of a special case. We do meet him for the first time in the Courthouse, as a Judge. But once again, the moment we meet him outside of the courthouse, he is much more approachable, definitely not the same persona as when he bitchslapped my problematic Harbinger into the Meropides prison [we are so going to write something about the Meropides prison once I have played enough 4.1 my friends – update post 4.1: ok Mihoyo that was weak commentary on the privatization of prison and prison labour but I’ll take it]. Neuvillette is probably the one that is the most associated with his courthouse persona, but there is still this gap between Neuvillette-Judge and Neuvillette-reflecting-in-the-end-of-Chapter-II.

So everyone is just themselves in their daily life, but there is something about a Courthouse that turns people into their judicial role. That’s what we call the liminality of the courthouse (Hadar, 1999). And it exists IRL, in a way shockingly close to what we see in the Opera Epiclese.

Magistrates, whether prosecutors or judges, do not act in their own names, they have a role to play. Someone woke up that morning, had breakfast, swore at the neighbour who did not park properly again, spilled some coffee on their documents again ffs, stumbled a bit on the little steps leading to the courthouse, and then, they put on their costume and started to play the role of the judge. As someone who has been in what can only be referred to as “backstage”  of a court , and entered the courthouse with the magistrates, I cannot stress enough how drastic the shift in person is the moment a magistrate steps into the space of the trial room.  

From there on, they are a Role. Furina, like any prosecutor, is not a prosecutor, until they are The Prosecutor, and then they are not themselves anymore, in the enclosed space of the courthouse. Have you ever seen a lawyer talk in their daily life the way to talk in a courthouse? No. Someone is just some person, until their put on the robe and their Lawyer Face and start their Lawyer Movement and Lawyer Tone. Traveler cannot go all OBJECTION when they have a disagreement with a random shopkeeper in Teyvat. The game doesn’t even give you the option – because you are not lawyer, unless you are in the court. None actually plays a lawyer, unless they are in the courthouse.

And an adversarial model encourages this. You have character, but for it to be a play, or an opera, you need a narrative (murder, ok, that will kickstart a narrative) and you need dramatic tension. Drama is created by the opposition of two characters having opposite goals, confronting each other. Simonett, a former Minessotta Supreme Court Judge, has a fascinating article called “The Trial as One of the Performing Art”, which really ecapsulates how an adversarial system is built on this drama:

‘The trial has a protagonist, and antagnonist, a proscenium and an audience, a story to be told and a problem to be resolved, all usually in three acts”.

More than an inquisitory model (hello, fellow continental Europeans), parties are encouraged to bounce off each other, take initiative, undermine and interact with each other. US courthouse TV shows loooove that, and Genshin absolutely leaned into that. The potential for drama was so strong and intrinsic to the story that For the first time, we got to play a character that was not even with the traveler: Traveler was off investigating, and we played Navia in the courthouse, because the sheer drama of being in the courthouse is too good for the game to pass.

Do you see it yet? Here is more. A judicial role is a role. IRL, a lot of it is emphasized by the robes -the - sometimes complete with wigs and accessories- that judges and magistrates must wear before entering the space of the courthouse. You put them on like you put on a costume -defendant, prosecution, judge and even audience alike (Cabatingan, 2018), there is a ritual of preparing for the performance of a trial the way you prepare for a play. Genshin characters cannot change their clothes [give us a proper fancy-af-judge-robe for Neuvilette Mihoyo you COWARDS], so the game does all it can to realllllyy show you a separation between the judicial role and the actor playing I in the courthouse.

Part 3: Game designers said yes this an Opera and a Courthouse because these are the same thing and they are right

[The urge to include Foucault in this section, but I do not have Discipline and Punish with me rn, rip]

Ok, ok, why not. But what about the stuff that is not in your random courthouse, like a damn AUDIENCE and the fact that it takes place in an actual OPERA ?

Aight, we gotta dive a bit deeper into two things: the role of audience in the judicial spectacular, and studies on legal architecture/judicial space. I told you legal research was cool.

Let’s start with the most obvious one: architecture.

The architecture of Courthouse is actually really important for the delivery of justice. The building embodies the task itself, and targets evert single person that interacts with the building in any way? It matters specifically because we take it for granted, that this this is just a building, that there cannot be more to it. Or: “Law in its everydayness, banks on the usage of visual means of representation, for they seem to lack artifice, and thus enjoy high persuasiveness” (Kumar, 2017, also this is a study on the architecture of the Indian Supreme court and it is so good). But thi is, of course, on purpose.

My friends, your local courthouse looks like an opera. Recently, I went to a play which was entirely a trial, and they barely had to do anything to set-up the scene because… the opera looks like a courthouse, and vice versa. Fontaine’s Opera Epiclese is this on steroid, and also actually used for entertainment like the magic shows, but its architecture and structure are so close to a proper courthouse that once you see it you cannot unsee it. Not matter how different they might look from each other, all, ALL courtroom have the same setup:

Judges on an elevated position compared to all other parties : Neuvillette absolutely kills it here [my man is placed so high up I was close to writing something about the religiosity of justice.]

Prosecution and accused on two opposite sides, virtually separated by the judge, even putting the defendant in their own little liminal space in the liminal space (Zoettl, 2016, Mulcahy, 2007)

Audience space and trial space clearly separated, with interdiction for the audience to enter the trial space

Audience space allowing to clearly see all angles of the trial space

The architecture of courthouse is strikingly similar to that of an opera’s, both in its spatial organization and its grandiose. The entire building is an opera, not just the ground of the stage. You even have a lobby, the space right in the Opera but not the courtroom, which is very similar to the space where people mingle during the interlude at the Opera – the social settings were many legal negotiations happen (Hansen, 2008)

[Fun fact: I am pretty sure the design of the audience space of the Opera Epiclese was inspired by two Parisian Opera houses: the Théâtre de la Comédie Française et the Théâtre du Châtelet. The stage itself is almost more church-like ; I am curious if anyone knows what the inspiration for the “outside building” actually was, for the Opera Epiclese?]

Eltringham (2012) has some really cool writings about the architecture, and people interact with the structure of courts (in his case, the International Criminal for Rwanda) and how all these features contribute to making the courthouse this liminal space where people can play their role, whether they realise it or not.

But, Almost-doctor, I hear you say, what about the spectacle ?! The audience enjoying the show ?!

Ah, yes. The audience. Just as with an Opera, the audience and the actors enter through differentiated means (the “segregation of circulatory systems”), all with their own point of access to the stage or the seats, and never the two shall meet. It is so important to a court system that you will find this feature highlighted by the architects that renovated the Bordeaux Courthouse and the US courthouse design and planning guide [These are just fun and striking illustration I stumbled on while writing this, you can find dozens of others from any given country]. These differentiated access path help reinforce the liminality of the courthouse not just for the actors, but for us, the audience as well.

You could even agree, with Garapon, that the audience itself is “playing” the audience, in the Courthouse (go read Garapon’s 2004 book, if you read French, it’s so good I swear and like it fueled 90% of whatever this word vomit is)). You are not really yourself, you have new, liminal role of spectator. A trial has a “need for a public”, even a silent one. “'Performance always intends an audience”, for Kapferere. and we can indeed talk about a Performance of Justice, when talking about how justice unfolds in the courthouse, especially in a criminal trial (Sausdal and Lohne, 2021).

The audience is an inherent part of the spectacle of justice – because is there a spectacle if there I no audience? If comedians perform a play with no audience, did it really happen? In the words of our own European Court of Human Rights (I am quoting the ECtHR on Tumblr.com, what is life): “Justice must not only be done, but must also be seen to be done” (Delcourt v Belgium, 1970). For Garfinkel “Legal rituals ... depend on the outside witness to confer on them not only recognition but validity” (Garfinkel, 1956);

Or, to put it more eloquently: “The need for the presence of a validating public at trials is enshrined in many constitutions and built into the very fabric of court complexes throughout the world. (…) Tthe court as a whole requires its reflection in the bodies of validating witnesses in order that this created place will bring sufficient gravity to itself.” (Eltringham 2012).

If a courthouse was just about the truth, or the parties involved reaching an agreement on what the truth is, there would be no need for the theatrics. We could handle a trial in a meeting group like problem-solving session in any run-of-the-mill company. Put everyone around the table, have a moderator, have a decider. That actually exist, it’s called arbitration, and you may have never heard of it despite the absolutely enormous amount of money that are involved (we are talking literal Billions of dollars every year, here), because the whole point is that it is discrete and confidential. But that is not how trials are, anywhere. It does exist though. It is called private arbitration, a form of private justice that focuses on problem-solving, expediency and secrecy, often because my friends, it involves big names and big money.

But justice? My friend, it needs to be a spectacle. It needs an Opera. Because this is how it gains sociological legitimacy, and it needs sociological legitimacy to function. By having an audience, it gains transparency and accountability.

Conclusion: teaser on why the spectacle of justice is not necessarily always totally bad, but also I am too tired to fully argue that.

Now, you might that it’s a bad idea. That what Genshin is doing is denouncing this inherently spectacular aspect of Justice, that there is something inherently wrong in justice being public and publicized for the gain of legitimacy, and sure, spectacular justice can become a parody of justice or a manipulation of justice and this has happened many times in history. And yes, you could go for that (although show trials have typically been at the service of an authoritarian regime in a transition phase, rising or declining, and target political opponents, which we do not see in Fontaine) but… I have another take for you.

Justice being a spectacle is not…  inherently bad. 

Hear me out. Making justice into a spectacle does not have to affect its outcome. The presence of a public does not change the course of a play.

Spectacular justice brings elements of entertainment such as narrative fulfillment and catharsis. That is clearly what Fontainians want: a satisfying end to the story, the truth exposed. Justice as a spectacle help people make sense of their reality, comfort them in knowing that justice does prevail. That the guilty do not go scott-free, that the good guys win, that justice is transparent, that prosecutor need to be able to build a good story to prosecute, and there is no good story is there is not someone who caused harm, and a victim that deserves justice. And, from the information we have so far, this does not seem to lead to miscarriages of justices, or a generally biased justice system. But frankly this is too long already and I just wanted to show that the depiction of the Spectacular in everyday justice is actually present everywhere IRL, and Genshin is just providing a really handy illustration, at this point of the story.

The Fontanian system is fucked, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not about the spectacular on its own. Long story short since it be worth its own word-vomit-style essay, it’s because the jury has been replaced by ChatGPT and there is no civil court, only a criminal court, k bye.

[dairy-farmer]

Ooooooh Had A Thought >.>

Remember the Justice Lords? There are legit "Evil Who Think They Are Heros Just Doing What Must Be Done(tm)" versions of our beloved Bats. And? Depending on the timeline? Their Reign of terror/Authoritarian takeover? May have started amping up around that time Jason supposedly "pushed" somebody of a building.

Batman may have just... been okay with that. Never lost Jason.

But! Imagine if in this universe he was a BIT more paranoid. Made sure Dick didn't use his family's signature move. Nothing to connect the two. A secret kept secret.

Tim follows for a while but... well... things start getting... DANGEROUS.

No longer the Batman he was supposed to be. Tim stops. Batman has broken his heart. Robin, how could you? Etc.

The Bats go full Dark Timeline. No ones having fun. They try to "Bring Justice, Bring ORDER" to other worlds. Like they did their's.

Get a face full of Absolutely The Fuck Not with a side of Get Out Of Our Reality from the normal JLA. And?? Whoms't is that? There is an extra, BRILLIANT, Robin. Vicious and deadly. Brutal in a fight.

They don't have one.

Why do they not have one? Their realities should be nearly identical. This makes no...

Their Bruce grapples, they are being forced back. They have seconds. There! A lucky grab. Cowl ripped back.

Timothy Drake? They lose footing. Sucked back towards their own reality. The Kryptonian clone preventing them from taking Drake with them. And then it's over.

The others are raging. Cursing and stomping like children. But all they can think is... he? Was RIGHT NEXT DOOR.

And imagine it. You like in a tyranny. The newscasters hide fear behind frozen smiles. God like men and women overthrew everything, kill as they please and change the rules to suit them. It's IMPERATIVE no one suspects you EVER have been anything less then enthusiastically supportive. People disappear for less.

The world went mad before you were ever old enough to do anything about it.

And suddenly? Your creepy, reclusive neighbors, with too much power, somehow connected to The Powers That Be, are acting like they KNOW you. Not your family. YOU.

Acting really, REALLY friendly. Want to Be your friiiiend.

Showing up everywhere.

Your parents trips are suddenly being green lit. But there is an under tone of "don't come back". They are afraid. You are afraid.

Ha ha! Don't WORRY, says your neighbor, he'll look out for you!

You've never spoken.

His hand feels possesive on your shoulder. His children LOOM. Smiling and smiling all around you like beautiful sharks.

You don't understand.

It's like they all share a secret about you that you don't know. They keep poking and prodding, trying to get more and more of you. LEARN more and more about you.

And the lingering touches. So many lingering touches. You're so tense, so tired, you could shake to pieces.

There hasn't been an Ivy attack in YEARS, not since she was...

Yet somehow the buildings hit. JUST your rooms. You're not stupid. Can't breathe. Too hot! Their faces cooing masks of "concern". Oh noooo. They say. How could this HAPPEN? They hum.

Hands already patting and stroking. Scooping you up. And? Tim is not DUMB.

He squirms. Tries to hold on to coherent thought. But it's pointless. He's outnumbered.

And they aren't ANIMALS, they'd protest. They are so very, very sweet. So gentle. So loving. Help their Timmy finally relax and feel so, so good. Hands that guide him up and down. That hold him still while others move. Skin to kiss, a clever little mouth, ready to devour.

So warm. They are OBSESSED.

Just? Imagine getting turned into the Emotional Support Fuck Robin for the Evil Bit Think They're Heroes BatFam all because your ALTERNATE self was a bamf.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i can just imagine the GuILT that would hit tim and the other universe when they look into the invading universe to both keep tabs and to make sure they can't come back because dealing with hostile universes is more of 'keep an eye on it' sort of situation. of course its not long before they find out what's happening.

no one but tim had seen the...oddness in the other bats' behavior towards him. tim notes it in his report about how he was unmasked by the other dick moments before they were forcibly sucked into their world and something about the intent look that had been shot at him...unnerved tim. having someone like dick grayson lock on you with that sort of intensity is never a good thing.

so tim is...worried. something in hus gut just turned at the lock the other dick grayson had given him. it wasn't hostile. not like how the other bats had been to their own counterparts. the other bats had been whopping them good. it wasn't until him, cass, steph, and barbara were called in that many of the plans the other bats set up dissolved. but unlike the others there hadn't been such a...lingering sense. the other batman had perked up and drifted their eyes to him when they learned that it had been tim's plan that resulted in the rescue of the other bats. there was something...appraising in that look but also something...hungry. like a starving, half-rabid coyote stumbling across an injured bunny.

it turned tim's stomach and so when the report of the other world comes in tim can't hold back the visceral reaction of what they were doing to their tim. their tim who had nothing to do with bats and who had lived a perfectly normal life with his parents until that bruce sent them away and threatened them with torture and death if they ever returned.

tim can't help him.

THEY. the justice league of his world can't help them. opening portals to other worlds blurs their lines, makes it easier for the influence of one to enter another. the monitoring is just so they can keep an eye on it which they construct whatever barriers they need to to keep their universe separate.

the justice league doesn't like going in to other universes and "saving" or liberating it. its too much of a gray area because then what's to stop them from going into EVERY universe that they find distasteful and doing the same? no. best to keep their noses to their own grindstone and let the universes of others be no matter how torturous it might be.

and so now tim is stuck...watching. and thinking about his cowl being pulled off his face in those final moments while starving eyes dug into him.

[synergysilhouette]

What are your hopes for "Frozen 3"?

Aside from wanting amazing music (because I know we'll get it; we've got the same team as the last two films), there are a couple things I'd like to see:

Making me fall in love with Kristanna again. "Frozen 2" really botched this for me; Kristoff's arc was about wanting to propose to Anna and how much he loved her, but their relationship was barely focused on, to the point where the proposal felt unearned.

2. Don't introduce too many new characters. The Northuldra people were mainly just there for lore building rather than feeling like actual characters. I'd enjoy fleshing them out, particularly Honeymaren and Ryder, who are kinda like Disney's Sokka and Katara (the "at home" edition).

3. NO BACKTRACKING! Progress isn't linear, but shoehorning Evil Elsa into the storyline (which some people have suggested) feels like Elsa confronting her feelings again--which can happen IRL, but it can be repetitive and boring for a storyline.

4. Give us a legit villain--not a twist villain (unless it's done SUPER well, but why take the risk?) or the villain being a metaphor for fear. I want someone who's present and dangerous. I'd prefer they weren't human, since it'd be less exciting to me, personally. Plus the two previous films give me renaissance vibes (fight me if you must), and a menacing villain would be AWESOME. I'd prefer avoiding the cliche idea of having them using Elsa as a weapon, though. Oh, and a villain song is needed as well.

5. The magic mirror needs to make an appearance. Granted, it could risk retreading similar ground of fear, but maybe flip it: instead of it being an object of fear, it's a mirror people covet, and Elsa is quickly deified and worshiped as a goddess. As someone who's fought for acceptance, being celebrated rather than tolerated/used for her powers could be a nice change for her.

Lemme know what you'd like to see in the film!

[rocketturtle4]

Okay I’ve got to stop scrolling Tumblr and make the actual post or else I’ll run out of time, so if someone else has already done this before me, my sincerest apologies. I am going FULL CLOWN.

This is just going to be a wall of text sorry,

@dribs-and-drabbles who tagged their post with major parts of this theory on this post

@shouldiusemyname this is not the main post we’ve talked about, I will get to that I promise

Firstly I wanted to address my perspective on this post by @lurkingshan on the cat and mouse dynamics of Piseang showing up at his house

I think Piseang was legit seeking comfort from Kawi even if we got later resolution with the mum, and this implied all was well because 1, WTF and 2 even if it was resolved he still might be seeking comfort after such an emotional scene

Having condoms etc. doesn’t, in my mind, mean he was only pursuing sex because there’s nothing wrong with being prepared.

BUT I actually think if we assume he was there to kind of trick him a bit it’s MORE POIGNANT for my theory so…

Part 1

I THINK PISEANG TIME TRAVELLED WHEN HE SPUN THE CRYSTAL BALL.

I was unsure about this interpretation during the episode but the next episode preview sealed it for me. Piseang went into the future before he went to sleep next to Kawi, while Kawi was pretending to sleep.

If I stick with things being frozen in the future as @grapejuicegay has continued to build on, then this time we are going to get Piseangs growth by jumping forward because this time, THIS TIME

Piseang was about to make a serious misstep and he jumps forward in the future only to find his and Kawi’s relationship remains unresolved and perhaps the tension is reaching a breaking point.

I’m not going to clown too much on the details but basically

No matter how far forward in time he goes (not sure it will be the full 12 years lol) he and Kawi will not have had sex and WILL NOT HAVE COMMUNICATED ABOUT IT

They will still be together (I wasn’t sold on this point till dribs-and-drabbles post but now I think maybe they will) but the relationship will have Kawi’s fear of intimacy/aceness as a central untalked about problem

There will be some sort of breakdown with future Kawi that gives Piseang perspective and then he goes back to fix things.

Lol that was a lot of clowning

PART 2

Piseang is back in the past.

Now we clearly don’t see that his (hypothetical) future knowledge has lead him to a clear understanding of Kawi’s issues (whether they’re fear of intimacy or aceness).

I honestly think his:

Lets stay in

Why are we only eating

Lets try the rollercoaster and lastly

Please talk to me at the restaurant

Were him taking multiple different approaches to get Kawi to talk to him about whatever he found out in the future.

Lastly I think they DID talk in the restaurant and I TRUST this show so I think there talk is going to make our final scene make sense

I personally am leaning slightly more towards ace rep than intimacy fears and I intend to make a post about it but I’m not attached, and this post by @shouldiusemyname is an excellent hopeful read on how this could be intimacy issues.

[kimetsu-chan]

Time for

✨ “Deep Thoughts” by Kimmie ✨

So I have a folder in my notes app where I wrote everything that happened on my trip down (+ a little weirdo thoughts)

SO IM TELLING THEM ALL TO YOU.

I’m just copying form my notes app :)

@larz-barz :)

You ever think how parenting is just brainwashing tiny people into being just like you—?

I was reminded that I have a very random and irrational fear of escalators 🤔 I freeze and tense up, and I constantly feel as if I’m going to fall over :l

I think there was a lady videotaping us in the airport??? She was weirdly angling her phone towards me and my family and covering it from view. She was also looking at us weirdly-

We got some bad turbulence on the way to Arizona, but I thought it was pretty fun :D

I saw a tiny plain frozen midair when we picked my aunt up from the airport on Friday? Glitch in the matrix????

I embarrassed myself like 5 times over on Saturday 😚 and at least 1-2 people mistook my two youngest sisters as my daughters 🥸

I think being in a car for the majority of 2 days + the Arizona heat has done something to me and my sister—

I passed out on Sunday 😃

And now I will have an irrational fear of swings—

(explanation of fainting/swing) So I was in the backyard of the house we were staying at, on the swings. Chilling. WHEN THE RIGHT HOOK CONNECTING IT TO THE BEAM ABOVE ME FELL OUT. I FELL, TOOK A TUMBLE, AND I WAS HUNCHED OVER IN PAIN BC MY HAND HURT. And I looked down at my hand and I was like, “oh. I’m bleeding, haha. AHH—“ I ran inside and went up to my dad and he started helping me clean up and get a bandaid. I was leaning over the sink and was feeling like crap and I was like, “Dad, I’m gonna pass out.” And he was like, “___, you’re not gonna pass out.” And then I passed out legit five seconds later—

I was only out for like 3 sec tho

MOVING ON

I’m the type of person where you’d need to stand up for me if I asked for no pickles and there were pickles

BUT

For Nagito, I would go yell at the staff that he asked for no pickles ☺️

have you ever been beat by a wet spaghetti noodle because your girlfriend has a twin sister and you got confused and 🫢ed her dad? That’s how it feels to drive a Ford F150. ✨ F O R D ✨

I finished an entire almost 300 page book within the week I was gone. And we were real busy too. 150 OF THOSE PAGES WERE WITHIN THE FIRST 1HR 15MIN OF THE FIGHT HOME

I… am like a flower. If you do not pay attention to me or if you do not force me to drink water, I shall simply… shrivel 😌

[whumpsecretsantaevent]

SS In July gift: @hiding-in-the-shadows

This is an exchange event so there will be a blanket trigger warning for all entries, so read at your own risk! Potential trigger warnings may include nsfw themes as well as gore and possible squicks.

KASSSSS!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ HAPPY NOT CHRISTMAS, LOVELYl! 

You're such a legend and you should know that I was so so happy when I saw I was assigned to you, legit squealed 😭❤️😌 amazing taste in tropes btw - OM NOM NOM 🍽️

I apologise so so much for the delay! my laptop decided to do the die on me and I've been stealing other people's laptops to write where I can! ❤️

I hope you like 🥺 I tried to hit your tropes, and I hope it's okay 😖 I made a new whumpee for it! Nehehe - more pain for more pretty men!

Lots of love, your secret Santa! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a regular Friday night for Otis, and thank fuck it was. The weekend was starting to feel like it would never arrive and the past hellish week had definitely aged him ten years. Wisps of grey hairs sneak through his dark brown curls, frown lines and wrinkles starting to creep in. The joys of stress, right?

He lay curled up in bed, eyes fluttering shut and breaths drifting softly in and out of his lips. A half-finished glass of red-wine sat on the nightstand, next to a well-worn copy of 1984, his go-to staple book when he was so run off his feet with work that he hadn’t had a chance to snag a new romance novel from his favourite used bookstore a few blocks down from his house. Everything was silent. The only glow was the flickering street lamp across the street, seeping through the slits in the curtains. 

Otis drifted away with the high of the alcohol, giggling and hiccuping softly to himself as he did so. His shoulders loosened with every soft chuckle, melting into his mattress as the warmth of the blankets envelop him. The soft breaths soon morph to gentle snores and in minutes, the lull of sleep pulls him under.

…

The piercing sound of shattering glass snaps Otis wide awake. He springs upright in bed, his heart pounds at his ribcage, racing a mile a minute. He sits as still as a statue for a moment, frozen solid in fear, cold sweat drenching through to the bedsheets. His eyes dart around, frantically searching the darkness. And then he hears it again. Another crash. Louder this time. The alcohol seems to dissolve in his bloodstream, the adrenaline sobers him in the blink of an eye.

Someone’s breaking in.

Gruff, mumbling voices whisper downstairs, then comes the creaks of the floorboards beneath cautious, tiptoed footsteps. Otis can feel his stomach twist and turn, pinching into a knot as bile rises to his throat. From head to toe, his body trembles so much he’s vibrating.

There’s nothing worth stealing. Nothing. No rolls of money stashed anywhere and even the damn TV is ancient technology. He can’t hope and pray that they’ll take something shiny that catches their eye and let it out the back door. They’re going to search. Turn the house upside down, scour from top to bottom. And they will find him. Sooner or later.

Otis’ ears prick at the groan of the stairs, the same step halfway up that always creaks when he usually stumbles down half-awake for midnight snacks. His body jumps into action before his mind can comprehend that he’s even moving. Otis races towards his wardrobe and throws himself to the floor, ducking his head underneath the dangling clothes on hangers. He swiftly drags the doors shut as quickly and quietly as he can possibly manage - submerging himself in pitch-black darkness. Otis folds to his knees and peeks through the slats of the wardrobe doors.

The doorknob to the bedroom rattles and twists, and then it swings open. Two tall, muscular men, dressed in all black come storming through. Searching the room, ripping off the covers from the bed and rummaging through all of Otis’ belongings. They sift through his drawers, pulling photo frames off the wall and smashing them on the ground.

A choked sob tries to claw its way through Otis’ throat. He slams his clammy palm over his quivering lips to trap his own cries. Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing a tear from underneath. Snot trickles down from his nose, his chest heaving. 

He’s panicking, he knows. Freaking the fuck out. How the hell are you supposed to stay calm in these situations?! Help is out of the question. His phone is still charging on the bed stand, he didn’t think of swiping it when he dove into the wardrobe. He didn’t think! He just did! He should have leapt out the window and crawled his way to safety, broken bones and all. Now he’ll be on the front page of the newspaper.... ‘Male found dead in burglary gone wrong’.

“Don’t be shy, little buddy. Come out and play!” One of the intruders calls out with a dark chuckle, suddenly squatting to check underneath the bed like he was so certain Otis would be huddled underneath there. Otis’ eyes blow wide, shuffling further back into the wardrobe. The dark figures circle his bedroom, and one of them heads straight towards him. Striding towards Otis’ hiding spot.

A dizziness spins in his head and the stuffy air around him feels suddenly suffocating. Otis traps his breath in his lungs. 

He’s going to die- oh god help him, they’re going to find him-

Otis screams his lungs out as the wardrobe doors swing open with a bang against the wall, a beam of light from a torch blinds his tear-filled eyes. The intruder smiles down at him, a terrifying look of amusement sparks in his eyes as he stares down at Otis cowering on the floor.

"Boo! Comfy, little one?" the intruder asks, his voice dripping with sickly-sweet sarcasm.

Otis doesn't say a thing. He can't. He's paralyzed with fear. His mouth blubbers open like a fish out of water. He just gawks up at the intruder, his eyes wide and bloodshot with terror.

The intruder laughs, a cruel, mocking sound. "Don't worry your pretty little head," he says. "We’re not going to hurt you. Not yet, anyway. Why rush the fun? We’ll have all the time in the world."

He reaches down and snatches Otis by the arm, hauling him to his feet. Otis cries out in pain as the intruder's grip digs deep, bruising into his flesh. He kicks and flails with every ounce of energy he’s got. They overpower him easily, without so much as busting a sweat. Every hit and swipe must feel like a tickle of a feather to the burly man. They throw Otis carelessly onto the bed, shoving him down onto the mattress and snatching his flailing arms to pin his wrists above his head. The man’s entire weight crushes Otis as he climbs on top.

“NO- FUCK- LEMME GO!” Otis roars, his voice breaking into a high-pitched squeal, and squirming underneath the intruder’s hold. Hot tears spill down his cheeks. “PLEASE! TAKE WHAT YOU WANT AND GO-”

The intruder shoves his hand over Otis’ mouth to muffle his cries, “Shut him up-”  he growls the order to his accomplice. The other intruder quickly fishes around in his duffle bag until he holds up a leather muzzle, dangling it from his hands. Otis lets out a blood curdling shriek beneath the man’s sweaty palm, bucking his hips on the bed and writhing desperately. He clamps his jaw shut, grinding his teeth and shaking his head from side to side - refusing to let them strap that vile thing in his mouth. Fingers pinch his nostrils shut, another hand pries and rips at his jaw to pull his mouth open. 

The accomplice swarms in to wrap his hands around Otis’ throat, squeezing until he rasps and wheezes on stolen air, the pinky-hue of colour fades from his face until his skin turns porcelain white. A metal bit forces its way through his parted lips and presses down on his tongue, the leather muzzle swallows the lower half of his face. Any desperate sound he tries to make gets lost in the abyss - he can only huff furiously through his nose.

“You’re exhilarating when you cry, aren’t ya, lil buddy?” the intruder marvels, he wipes at the wet droplets collecting on Otis’ eye bags and licks the salty tears from his finger. “Would you look at those puppy dog eyes?”

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. Panic fogs Otis’ spinning mind and clouds every rational thought. It’s - It’s a nightmare, it has to be!… the wine must have dragged him into a heavy, disturbed slumber. Or the stress! Maybe it’s taking more of a toll on him than he thought. 

“Nah-ah. Focus on me, sweetheart,” The intruder croons, his fingertip dabs at the tears slipping down Otis’ puffy, rosy cheeks. Otis’s eyes stay glued shut, squeezed tight until his bloodshot eyeballs feel like they might pop out of his sockets and burst. Muggy breath wafts hot against the leather muzzle, welded to his face with sweat. Thick trickles of drool slip from his quivering lips, his teeth scraping on the bit. 

He pants and heaves for air beneath the muzzle. The heat is unbearable, and the sweat drips down his face, stinging his eyes. Blood rushes to his head and his heart pounds in his chest.

Otis’ eyes shoot open. But he wishes he stayed hidden behind the safety of darkness behind his eyelids, where he doesn’t have to face reality. Where he can’t see the stranger pinning him down with a wolfish grin. 

“Good boy,” the intruder praises, cool as ice, stroking his hand through Otis’ sweat drenched hair, “I knew you’d be an angel for us. Picked a good-un, didn’t I?”

It’s sickening. Every touch revolts and terrifies Otis’, making his stomach do somersaults. A petrified whimper makes it through the gag, and he winces. He’s never heard a person whimper before…never heard himself whimper before. The sound is so foreign to him, so out of place, that it took him a moment to realise it was actually coming from him. He was whimpering like a child, like a wounded animal.Like a dog. He can't stop it. The pain is too much, the fear too overwhelming. 

The intruder climbs off Otis’ body, and forcefully rolls him over and face down, shoving him onto his belly. His wrists are seized in an iron grip, and wrangled from stretched high above his head to criss-crossed over the small of his back. Otis sobs into the bedding his face is shoved into. The stranger splays his warm hand between Otis’ shoulder blades, and slides painfully slow down his spine. Every nerve-ending lights up, his skin crawls and twitches.

“You’re going to do nicely. Sweet little thing like you. You’re going to be the perfect pet,” the stranger purrs.

Pet.

Otis’ vision dips to black. He just felt his soul leave his body. He felt himself floating upwards, and out, away from his body. He looked down and saw himself lying pinned on the bed, lifeless. Hopeless. 

A leather cuff slips over each wrist, strapped tight before being linked together with a chain in between. Otis tugs at the restraints with all the strength he can muster, his muscles bulge and his veins pop as he strains against them. Sweat beads on his forehead and his breath comes in ragged gasps. 

The accomplice jingles something beside the bed to grab Otis’ attention. Otis’ twists his head, writhing on the bed to look…and then a guttural scream rockets up his throat, shaking his head so violently that his sight mists. 

A collar. With a silver, engraved dog tag dangling from it.

“If you’ll do the honours…” the intruder nods to his accomplice, giving him the greenlight. He swiftly fastens the dog collar around Otis’ throat, buckling the band until Otis chokes and cries out behind the bit, before he finally loosens it, allowing him to suck in air again. His cheeks burn cherry red beneath the muzzle with shame. His humanity stripped away from him with only a few instruments, he’s entirely at these bastards mercy.

“Guess what your dog tag says, boy! Go on!”

Otis lets out a pitiful whine, shaking his head trying to free himself of the muzzle. His hair flops around like a dog drying their fur.

“Oh right. I forgot. Guess I’ll have to tell you!” The intruder elates, grabbing Otis by the collar and spinning it around his neck to grab hold of the tag.

“Pup. If found, return to Master Becker.”

They must be able to clock the look of pure terror on Otis’ face, his eyes streaming with tears, nostrils flaring.

“Oh, that’s me, by the way. I’m your new owner, little one.”

This is insane. No-one can own him. He is his own person, with thoughts and feelings and dreams. They have no right to take that away from him. To beat him down to nothing more than a tamed, defenceless animal. 

He won’t give up easily. He will not back down, and he will never surrender, no matter what the odds. He will fight back at every twist and turn, until the very end.

“Let’s wrap it up here. Grab the legs. I’ll take his arms,” Becker barks. Otis is lifted into the air, the accomplice grabbing his kicking feet and Becker hooking his arms under Otis' armpits. 

Otis struggles and flails, but he was no match for the two men. They carry him effortlessly, as if he were a small child. Otis's head lolls back, and he closes his eyes, feeling helpless and defeated. He knows that there is nothing he could do to stop them. They are going to take him away, and there is nothing he could do about it. They carry him out the room, making their way downstairs and back down that creaking step.

It might be the last time he’ll ever hear it. He already misses it-

They drop Otis’ to his feet when they reach the final step, but he crashes to the floor in a sobbing heap. Every muscle gives out on him, he slumps like dead weight. Becker wrenches his fist in Otis’ hair and drags him back up and standing, and forces him to stumble towards the door.

When the door opens, there’s a black van parked outside. Right under the streetlamp. It’s running, its engine’s quiet hums cut through the silence of the night like a knife. Otis’ breath sprints away from him, he screams again, his legs go to give out - but Becker catches him in his arms.

He massages Otis’ Adam's apple, bobbing beneath the collar, with his calloused palm, “Breathe, boy. Do as you're told.”

Otis quickly shakes his head 'no'. Not that he won't, but he can't. Every breath is ten times harder than the last, his chest heaves and his lungs burn. Spots dance in his vision.

Becker pulls a strip of cloth from his pocket, and ties it over Otis’ swollen and tear-filled eyes, blindfolding him, “Calm down. You needn’t ever worry about anything else. Just listen to my voice, heed my word as gospel. Only me. Only my voice. And nothing else ever again. Until that ticker in your chest rusts and stalls to its final seconds.”

Otis keens, shredding his throat with his garbled cry. He collapses into Becker's arms once more, as he rubs meant-to-be soothing circles and pats Otis' back. Shushing him as he wails.

“Hush, little puppy. Stop your whining. Let’s get you to your new home,” Becker coos, tugging at Otis’ collar.

[player-1]

Nexolord & co. shenanigans (Nexomon 1)

It's honestly been a long time coming, though mostly for the nostalgia and hype for Nexomon 3, but I figured I would look back in the story for any context clues to Nexolord/Metta's personality and abilities mentioned from his siblings, Overseers, or anyone unlucky enough to get on his bad side. Obviously it's going to be a massive list (with some spoilers for to Micromon and Extinction), but here goes!

First off, there's no real timeline on how long Metta's been Nexolord or when he started his Omnicron revival plan into action, but I'll put in a generous estimate of 2-3 years before the main story since he already put way too much fear into people's hearts to go against his authority until MC went ham on his master plan. Same goes for him commissioning MC's parents to build the resurrection machine and revive Omnicron for real.

For Overseers, I would assume that ex-Nexolord Remus originally had Hilda, Khan, and Jack until Metta took the title (and adding five more to spread out his influence). But it's also funny to assume that Metta indirectly assigned his siblings/Champions to a certain Overseer that either complement or conflict their personalities...You know, for shits and giggles. -Fenrir/Fona -> Ivan & Ira (Fiery spirit and moderately irrational) -Nadine/Ventra -> Remus (Unstoppable force vs. Immovable object) -Merida/Arqua -> Hendrick (90% charm and 10% backstabber) -Zetta/Luxa -> Spencer (Snotty rich kid with inflated ego) -Ulrich/Grunda -> Jack (Reliable leader but goes against authority to protect his people (Mostly connected to Netherworld Ulrich)) Nexolord/Metta -> Glacia (Cold-blooded tactician with an extreme ego trip) -Deena/Nara -> Khan ("Subtly" associating the family traitor as a wild savage who only cares about the world and harmony over complete authority...Harsh, even for a kids game)

Metta's childhood in the Frozen Tundra was already going to be shrouded in mystery from the get-go (and obviously exclude flashbacks in-game to avoid spoiling his identity), but he left a pretty deep impact on the three people he interacted with in the past (Glacia, Juliet, and Malk). -First, Juliet's a fangirl for him, so much so that she'll completely ignore his plan to destroy humanity if it meant getting a sliver of attention from him or one-up Glacia as Overseer. She also believes that he's a vampire (either when they were kids or into adulthood) and regularly reads cheesy YA vampire novels that she "accidentally" leaves on her kitchen table for someone to notice. -Glacia is 110% loyal to Metta and will gladly brag to anyone she meets on how she's the most "true and loyal Overseer" there is. Also, she's the only Overseer who's aware that the Champions are Omnicron's children (minus Remus figuring it out through context clues), so she somehow earned Metta's trust to learn that fact as well (though whether she knew Metta's true form too is up for debate). -Finally Malk "I taught [the Nexolord] everything I know" Micromon is either the best/worst person to be Metta's tutor (re: legit father-figure) to make him become the little tyrant he is now. Whether it's to fuel Metta's already-burning hatred for humans (being a sentient AI that destroyed Project Pixekai in revenge of the programmers who created him), teaching him useful skills to gain control over others as a leader (master manipulator, master technician, and more!), or giving Metta the emotional support he never had from his siblings or dad (headcanons galore!). Also love the little gimmick that Malk's name isn't shown to the MC since he doesn't properly introduce himself to them; only Metta calls him by name once when they're the only ones in a room or during Malk's last hurrah speech before MC fights Omnicron and disappearing for good. Also, Malk mentions meeting a younger Nexolord/Metta sometime after busting out of Pixekai and adjusting to human life, so he might've tried disguising himself long before they teamed up. Now I want to know if Metta first learned that Malk wasn't human or vice versa, but I would love to know what babey Nexolord looked like before he went anime villain mode. :)

Metta definitely was the one who gave his siblings their fake Champion names, mostly on the joke of Fona/Fenrir being Metta's guard-dog for a good chunk of the story (even accompanying him to Grunda's grave and keep a eye on Overseer Jack for the excavation). Besides that, it makes sense for Metta to have every opportunity to make a jab at his siblings and put them in their place in the current hierarchy. -Fenrir: Marsh/Fen-dweller, Norse mythos wolf that would bring disaster during Ragnarok and was bound by a chain shaped like a silk ribbon. [Similar motif to Nexomon Fenrir to have giant prison cuffs on his wrists and collar-like design on his shirt.] -Nadine: Hope (French), messenger/admonitory or showerer of blessings (Arabic), "the courage of a bear" (Russian) [Latter fits cause of her assigned Overseer being Remus and her tendency to put combat first over talking.] -Merida: Pearl (Mairead, Celtic), "one who achieved a high place of honor" (Latin), "a chaste girl" or "like a mother" (Persian) [Persian seems more ironic since Merida's nice when she gets attention but throws a major hissy fit if embarrassed or mocked.] -Zetta: Inquiry or quest (Greek ztsis), "a person that is intellectually curious and has a thirst for knowledge" [Mostly ironic since Zetta's dumb as a brick and has a love for shiny things.] -Ulrich: Noble or regal ruler, noble/rich heritage (Old German) [Grunda never had the chance to get a Champion name (until Netherworld), but it's interesting how his Nightmare makes him the ruler/guardian of Solus Desert and protects his people from the big bad Nexolord Remus...At least he got his priorities straight?] -Deena: Valley, church leader, spear ruler (Hebrew/Old English/Old German); "compromising, passive, and more likely to stay in the background rather than front and center" (myfirstname.rocks) [Even if she was a major part of Ulzar's fame, Deena keeps herself as inconspicuous as possible to ensure the MC's success too. Definitely didn't want to be caught up in the family drama again, you know? :)]

It is somewhat confirmed in the Netherworld end-story that Nexonium/Nexomite is more commonly found in the literal afterlife than in the normal world (and stupidly expensive too), and it also has the ability to incapacitate any Nexomon in its vicinity (when powered by a NexoCore) or keep a Nightmare running without a Warden to guard it. So who's to say that Metta used Nexonium to create the Nexocore, easily violating Ziegler's rule of keeping the dead dead and creating a power source that won't get traced back to him (you know, since he commissioned MC's parents to make it?). And it also shows that Metta had Nexonium stowed away in his old house, most likely studying its components in there or in the bunker.

And last but not least, it's not exactly confirmed if Metta actually sacrificed himself to revive Omnicron like the rest of Champions; he doesn't have a personal Nightmare like the other four (+Grunda/Ulrich), and you only get to find Metta's true form after the Netherworld story (ie. Killing Omnicron for real, dooming the current Nexomon species to extinction, and making a bridge between the Netherworld and real world to finish loose ends). Speaking of bridge, it's also confirmed in Extinction that just after MC destroyed Omnicron's soul, Venefelis was unleashed with the single goal to kill Hilda; unintentionally serving as the bridge for the Nexomon War and the future to come in Nexomon: Extinction. ...Also the MC (The Ghost of Nexomon Past) gets Metta's jacket and was buried in it pre-Extinction, so I'm betting the madlad did the blanket dog trick and it somehow worked against the MC and Nara. I mean, Metta's about the size of a bowling ball (five-pin/duckpin maybe?) so he might've had a chance to pull it off when MC was distracted by Omnicron and he just assumed the guy was gone for good.

Anywho, that's all I have for now, hope you enjoyed!

[altocat]

Alto, I had a shockingly vivid and super angsty dream about Sephiroth that I’d like to share with you—

My mind was on The First Soldier story and I kept thinking about the trailer shot of young Seph with the blood on his face, and so in the dream, it was a scene after something horrible had happened with young Seph. I believe a decision he had made unintentionally led to the FS trio’s death. (Although Glenn must have survived).

But for the time being, young Seph thought they were all dead and was frozen with guilt…all the while Hojo’s voice was heard praising him for being ruthless, saying that whatever loss he felt would only make him stronger. Then Seph was suddenly hit with a vision very similar to the one Lucrecia had in DOC, a Jenova cell induced hallucination. He was shifted to Nibelheim, surrounded by flames and bodies, and ahead of him was…himself. The older, mad version.

It was nearly identical to this scene we caught a glimpse of from the Square Enix event earlier in the year. I don’t know if this will be the official Rebirth sequence, but it mattered because it wasn’t the usual pose where Sephiroth merely raises his head. Instead he turns around to face the viewer.

Here: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ij5E6kuoI-I&pp=ygUSU2VwaGlyb3RoIHRncyAyMDIz

In this case, the viewer was young Sephiroth. He was crying, terrified and grieved to see himself in the future, a monster, eyes lit with madness. He barely recognized himself, the devil smiling back at him. All the while he heard the voice telling him that he was doomed to this fate. There was no choice. He was a monster and always would be, and one day he would accept it.

I got the impression that whatever this scene was, it intended to reveal a great secret about Sephiroth, which was that he came to understand at some point in his youth that one day he would lose his mind. He knew it was going to happen, but he didn’t want it to, and we were meant to understand that every decision he made afterwards was based on the desire to subvert this fate.

His friends, Genesis and Angeal, were likely his greatest hope. He saw them as a way out, but when they defected, his fears came back. He didn’t want to cause their deaths like he had his first team, so he did everything he could to avoid facing them. He wanted to avoid putting himself in a position where he would be a monster. He just loved his friends and wanted to live.

He was safe until Nibelheim, and everything he had tried to avoid or tried to avoid rose up when he went into that reactor.

I couldn’t believe how strong this dream was. I woke up in shock. It was so strange to see the fire scene with Sephiroth where he wasn’t looking at Zack or Cloud, but was turning away to see his younger self. That was, frankly, incredibly painful. I wanted to cry.

You know what? This actually all makes sense enough for it to be legit. Or at least parts of it. I'm debating if that trailer is an actual cutscene or plot point but this integrates it pretty well! And would finally be the final piece of the puzzle of "knowing" Sephiroth.

I don't think Seph will end up killing them directly. At least, not anymore. But an accident or series of chaotic events could very well make him indirectly responsible, boosting his guilt complex and perhaps leading a pathway to him snapping. I would love an actual indicator that Seph is suffering from PTSD beyond fan speculation. We'll see...

[l-egionaire]

The Owl House: Best/Worst Case AU part 1

This is another one of those ideas that I came up with while messaging my buddy @ordinaryschmuck. I'm going to be releasing it in parts. Partly to get a sense of people's interest in the idea and partially because this is so long it could be it's own legit piece of fanfiction.

The story begins eight years post the Owl House's canon, when Amity and Luz are in their twenties. Amity found out that Luz had, once again, hidden something from her due to not wanting her to worry. Tired of her girlfriend not telling her about her issues, Amity goes to visit Luz, who's helping Raine catalogue Belos's old hidden stash of magic items, and they quickly get into an argument. One of the worst ones of their relationship. So bad In fact that Amity ends up saying she wished she'd never met Luz.

Luz's heart brakes hearing that.

Luz: Y-you don't mean that!

Amity: Maybe I do. After all, if you're just going to keep your feelings hidden and not talk them through with me...then what's the point of us even being together?

With that, Amity leaves. She spends the night staying with Emira at her place, still stewing over her feelings about Luz.

She wakes up the next day.....and when she stretches her arms after waking up, she sees the Emperor's coven sigil on her right inner wrist.

Amity: What the hell?!

She stares at it closely to make sure it's real, even attempting to wipe it off, to no avail. Then, she looks away from it and her eyes fill with more fear and confusion as she sees her surroundings

Instead of Emira and Viney's guest bedroom, she was in a four walled, stone room covered in Emperor's coven symbols and paraphernalia.

Amity jumps out of bed, breath heavy with panic.

Amity: Emira! This isn't funny! Come on, knock it off with this!

When she gets no response, she starts experimentally touching all the Emperor's coven items in the room and her fear growing more and more as each one felt real.

Amity: No, no, no! No, this-this is just an illusion!

She then notices an open window and, as one ultimate test, slowly moves her hand closer and closer to the opening until hee hand went out the window, proving that this WASN'T just an illusion.

Now, violently freaking out, she looked outside the window and, to her horror, realized that she was in the Emperor's palace.

A knock at the door made her jump. She came over to it and cautiously opened the doo .....to reveal a tiny Golden Guard.

Golden Guard: Miss Blight. I'm sorry to bother you so early, but Emperor Belos has requested an audience with you.

Amity: Hunter?

The little golden guard flipped up his mask to reveal a child of about ten or so that eerily resembled Hunter, only without the scars.

Golden Guard: I'm sorry, who? I don't know anyone by that name.

Amity simply stares at him, frozen in shock.

The Golden Guard child just shrugs and puts his mask back on.

Golden Guard: Well, I have to go. But a word of advice? Don't keep him waiting. He's...not a patient man.

He walks away.

Amity slams the door shut and tries her best to still her violently beating heart.

Amity: Okay...Okay. I dont know what's going on. But the best thing I can do is just...play along for now.

So, she got dressed, puts on an Emperor's coven robe she found on a hook in her room and prepared to meet with Belos.

To be continued......

[ultfreakme]

Hi Riki!

I really like your blog!

I want to learn more about Jay Nakamura he seems like such a cool dude. :)

Hi Kit!!! Thank you so much 🥰🥰.

I fear you've unleashed my non-ATLA/LOK obsession, and it is this little guy asdfvhj

So Jay Nakamura, aka 'Gossamer', is a DC character who's a hero and investigative journalist. He's dating Jon Kent, the son of Lois Lane & Superman (Jon's also working as Superman right now and shares the superhero name).

He's the son of the former president of his country, Gamorra(fictional place implied to be inspired by E.Asian cultures).

His first appearance is in the comic 'Superman: Son of Kal-El Issue 2'.

Jay works with this anarchist rebel group known as 'The Revolutionaries' & just helped save his own country from a dictator alongside Jon. He also runs his own underground news stream called 'The Truth'.

When he was young, he was kidnapped by this dictator & experimented on for half a year, which gave him the ability to phase through literally everything.

He's like, super sarcastic and hella emotionally closed off and keeps using dumb jokes to hide his feelings but he has so much love and affection for Jon and everyone. His fashion sense is truly atrocious, the man cannot dress to save his life.

His biggest idol is Lois Lane and completely frozen when he saw her & legit ran away to hide by a barn because she's an extremely good journalist. But then he started roasting Jon on first meeting about his hair knowing he was Superman(which...somehow made Jon instantly fall for him lol).

Also, Batman did not trust Jay and kinda left him to the wolves one time, which made Jon almost destroy Batman.

It was a valid concern btw, Jay's friends are wanted criminals, have killed people(HUGE no-no for Superman & Batman)& also one of his friends stole Batman’s car.

Anyways when Jon & Jay were fighting the dictator, shit happens and Jay's identity which was a secret until now, becomes public and everyone knows this kinda hot-topic journalist is dating Superman.

This kinda fucked him over because Jay was able to do a lot of the difficult stories of his journalism stories BECAUSE no one knew who he was, so right now he's in this extremely awkward position where his boyfriend is very specifically "Superman", meaning he can't be seen in public with 'Jon Kent the Civilian' and has the paparazzi and regular people hounding him.

He has the vibes of a villain, but he's just genuinely a good person who only wants to help & protect his loved ones. He often pushes aside his own discomfort in layers of jokes abd sass to protect his emotions. Like he somehow travelled from a whole other country, and ran right into the Hall of Justice(the central gathering place for every major hero) to check on Jon when he got hurt.

If you want to read about him, he's a very new character with mostly linear story rn so here's a list of his appearances:

Superman: Son of Kal-El (#2- #17)

DC Pride 2022

Action Comics #1050

Adventures of Superman: Jon Kent(#1, #2)- this is an ongoing series so he may have more appearances.

I think I covered everything but idk if I did him justice😅 he's really fun to learn about through the comics. Hope this was what you were looking for?

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

and can i also request “Not so fast, bun.”  for kit/syb(/jake) (but only if you want to kfa;lfd no pressure)

This literally took me forever to fill, but I finally completed it and I think it's my first legit threesome fic??? and I'm so glad it got to be for the polycule

Anyhoo..

3k words later and here ya go my friend!

18+ Smut below the cut (this gets raunchy)

Warning: knife play, cunnilingus, p in v sex, snowballing, creampie, nipple play, pet names, fingering

"Rise and shine, bunny." Kit's low, smoky voice cut through the silence of the early morning as she smirked down at the dark haired woman curled up in a ball on the dirt floor of the cage. It was the wake up call every "recruit" prayed they wouldn't receive. As pretty as the redhead was, her eyes gave nothing but crazy – a sadistic gleam trapped in a cold blue stare, as deadly a threat as an iceberg.

The ground was frozen and the wind bit with the snow that was starting to fall in the Whitetails. Sybille pulled her coat a little tighter around her trying to keep the chill from getting to her core as she rolled over to face her captor and Kit’s eyes seemed to soften – if that were even possible – at the sight of her favorite toy’s reddened nose and cheeks, lips turning blue around the edges. 

"You look tired. Did we keep you up past your bedtime?" Kit mocked as she tilted her head to the side.

Sybille refused to respond, merely looking up at the redhead through her furrowed brow, still trying so hard to act like she didn’t really want to be there. 

Kit stood at the cage door, her boot tapping, she was getting tired of the little game. It would be so much easier if Syb just gave up and gave herself over to what the soldiers were offering her. "I brought you breakfast, if you're interested."

Syb’s nose scrunched at the thought. "Not in the mood for meat."

"No, I suppose you got your fill biting off that poor fuck's finger, didn't you?" She rasped, her eyes roaming over Sybille’s body appreciatively.

Unlocking the cage, making sure to close the door tight behind her, Kit showed no fear with the prisoner –  even if Syb had the propensity to get violent after going through the trials. 

"Surprised you're so comfortable bein’ in here considerin’."

Kicking Syb’s boot, spreading her legs open, Kit kneeled down between her legs. Her hand stroked through the longer portion of dark tresses that fell on the other woman’s forehead. "You might have some teeth now, but mine are still sharper." She gave a cold smirk. "Jacob and I thought you might like to come out of the cold now that you've had your sulk."

"No thanks."

"Oh, don’t be so hasty, bun." Her thumb tugged at Syb's lower lip, rubbing her body heat against it, warming up the tender, wind bitten flesh. "We weren't even planning on punishing you this time. You've already proven how well you react to the praise."

Ice cold eyes made brighter by the white of fallen snow met with the evergreen of Syb’s own. Leaning in, she pressed her mouth to her former ally and kissed her tenderly. Her warm tongue pushed in past cold lips, hands cupping against Syb’s cheek and neck firmly, holding her in place. She could feel the flush settle in the Deputy's skin and the increase in her heartbeat against the palm of her hand. It didn't matter what the she said now, Kit already had her answer.

"Come on, Syb. At ease, soldier." Kit stood up and pulled the dark haired woman to her feet. Wrapping her arm around Sybille's, she led her through the maze of cages, back up to Jacob's office. 

Paint-peeled white doors swung open and Kit strutted in, as proud with herself as a cat with its kill. She may as well have been carrying Syb in her jaws so she could spit her out on the Herald’s desk for him to see her catch.

Jacob slid the pencil he was holding back under the metal clasp of his clipboard – the time for going over reports had ended – stretching back in his seat he met the Deputy with a smug grin. "There's our jackrabbit. Hope ya weren't feelin’ too cold last night." 

Syb tightened her jaw, still trying to fight the situation she’d been put in the middle of once again. "No worse than most other nights."

"Glad to hear it, Deputy."

Kit shook off her knee length leather coat, tossing it over the back of one of the chairs, and looked over her shoulder at the Deputy. “I don't know what you’re just standing around for. Go on. Strip,” she said with a nod of her head.

Syb cleared her throat and went silent staring up at the ceiling above her. 

“Oh, what? You’re suddenly shy?” Kit turned around, her hand on her hip as she slid the knife from her holster. “Or maybe you were hoping we'd have the pleasure of doing it.”

Swallowing heavily, Syb lifted her chin, the flush already starting to grow up her chest and neck.

“Looks like you’re getting some color back. Guess Kitty here, said the right thing.” Jacob's pale eyes gazed lasciviously at the Deputy. “Go on, angel, I think that’s what our jackrabbit wants. Well, isn’t it, soldier?” He asked with the raised brow.

He commanded and Sybille was forced to obey. “Yes. Yes, sir, it is.”

“She really is starting to get the handle of this.” Kit gave a sideways glance to the Herald, a cruel grin on her face.

Unzipping Syb’s coat, Kit tossed it to the floor and brought her knife to the waffle knit of the worn Henley underneath, slicing it open from the buttons down to the belly. All the while keeping her eyes firmly focused on the Deputy. “Such a good little rabbit for us,” she cooed as she traced her knife over the bare skin of Syb’s chest, leaving light pink scratch marks against it – not enough to break the flesh, but enough for the nerves to be set alight with an itch – drawing a hiss from the dark haired woman as metal met the skin. 

But that didn't stop Kit, pain was part of the pleasure. 

“Not a fan of knives, Dep?” She tutted her tongue. “That’s too bad. I am.”

She ran her fingers down the straps of Syb’s bra and with a quick slash of her knife, cut them, letting Syb’s breasts fall free of the material and her nipples steadily grow harder in the cold, biting air. The point of Kit's blade traveled down between small, perky breasts until it reached her stomach, stopping as the tip hit the other woman's belly button and she slipped her hunting knife back into the holster on her thigh. 

A sigh heaved out of Sybille’s mouth. “It doesn’t fuckin’ matter what I like, does it?”

Kit’s brow furrowed, “Now bunny, that’s not very nice. We’ve always been good to you, giving you what you want.” Cupping Sybille's face in her hand, she kissed her as her other hand explored down the dark haired woman’s body. Massaging the Deputy’s breast in her hand, Kit rolled her nipple between her fingers, pinching it tightly making Sybille moan into her mouth. 

“That’s it bunny, let me take care of you,” Kit whispered against her lips as her hand trailed down Syb’s waist, slipping down the front of her jeans, and past the waistband of her panties.

For someone so fond of violence and brutality, she knew just how to apply the right pressure and speed to a woman’s body to make them beg. There was a certain grace to the way her fingers could move, a dexterity to how she pulled out every little moan and gasp and stifled whine she could get until Sybille was left clenching down around nothing – empty – as she was brought to her climax. 

Even as the Deputy came undone from her fingers, she whispered praise into the dark haired woman's ear. "You have no idea how much I love the sounds you make. So fucking pretty," Kit purred. 

She started to pant, her anticipation getting the better of her as she pressed kisses to the edge of Syb's jaw and finally inserted her fingers into her. Curling them up against the walls, stroking that perfect spot over and over, letting her fingers get coated in her bunny's arousal. Pumping them in and out, the slick sounds of Syb getting wetter around her becoming louder, filling the office. Finally slipping her fingers away –  leaving the Deputy desperate for more – Kit brought them to her mouth and sucked them clean. Her tongue sliding down to the base of them, licking at the skin that webbed between them, collecting every last glistening morsel that coated her digits. 

"God, the way you taste…” Kit looked down at her fingers now wet with her saliva and a smile pulled at her lips. “I could eat you out for hours."

Pale eyes flicked up to look at Syb, with a hunger the Deputy had only ever seen in one other pair of eyes. That same pale, predatory gaze that was more animal than human. 

Sybille swallowed hard, her lower lip trembling as she focused on the redhead’s mouth. "P-please."

Kit's eyebrows rose, feigning surprise. "Oh, you'd like that?" she asked in a husk as she dragged her tongue against the burn scars on Syb’s neck. 

"I know I'd like to see that." Jacob got up from his seat after admiring the show before him and heavy footsteps crossed the room, his arms wrapping around Kit's waist, tugging her ass against his stiffening cock. Pressing the meat of her into him, she began to grind her hips as his teeth nipped at her throat. "Fucking into ya while you use that pretty little mouth of yours."

"Is that an order?" Kit teased.

He grabbed her braid and coiled it around his hand, pulling back on her head to rest it against his shoulder. "I can make it one."

She purred with the rough touch used against her, her tongue dragging against her teeth as her eyes fluttered shut. When he finally released her from his grasp, Kit was quick to grab Syb’s hand and pull her towards the cot in the corner of the room, and push her down onto the mattress. 

Sybille’s hands fell to the button and the zipper of her jeans, fumbling to undo them under the pale stare of the two redheads in her midst, but Kit was quick to slap her hands away.  

“Not so fast, bun.” Kit licked her lips and pulled down on the zipper teasingly slow, sliding Syb’s jeans down her thighs and legs, her eyes drawn to the darkening spot between the Deputy’s thighs. Gripping Sybille’s thighs in her hands, she spread them wider, kneeling between them, pressing her fingers to the spot moist with her anticipation, adding the friction of cotton against her needy cunt. 

"So wet for me already," Kit hummed approvingly.

Pale blue eyes stared up at Syb, as she pressed kisses to her inner thighs, drawing closer to the apex of them, before running her tongue against where the artery pumped, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh – playing with her food. 

A shaky breath slipped past Syb’s lips, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she laid there watching Kit work, her fingers squeezing at the bedding. “Please, Kit,” she begged.

A half grin tugged at the corner of the redhead’s mouth, white teeth shining. Icy eyes rolled sideways to face her prey. “Bunny, are you getting impatient with me?”

“No.”

Jacob chuckled from behind them, arms crossed over his chest. “Told ya we should have promised her the stick and not the carrot.”

Kit looked back over her shoulder at the mountain man, batting her eyelashes. “Have neither of you ever heard of foreplay?” She turned back to face Syb, and wrapped her fingers around the band of her panties, tugging them down her legs. “Apparently you both like to just get right to the action, huh?”

Her fingers dug into Syb’s thighs, her nails dragging down them, leaving long, red scratches behind. Spreading the folds apart with two fingers, she licked long stripes up the length of Syb's slit, her tongue lapping at her like a cat with a bowl of cream, until coiling it around the hood of her clit. Hearing the pleasured moans and having the other woman thrusting up towards her face as she writhed against the mattress let Kit know she was on the right track. Her strawberry lips wrapped around Syb’s clit and she could already feel it start to pulse, swapping between sucking and licking while slipping two fingers up inside her, the wet sounds steadily growing louder with each thrust in and out, her fingers getting drenched down to the knuckles.

With Kit’s ass pointed up in the air, Jacob slipped around behind her, freeing her of her own jeans and underwear. With a rustle of cloth and the jingle of metal, his jeans were on the floor and without wasting any time, his hand snaked around Kit’s hips and between her legs, rubbing circles against her clit with the pad of his thumb as he cupped her mound in his large, rough hand. Pressing the head of his cock up against her entrance, he pushed up into her with a single thrust of his hips, stretching her open and making her moan against Syb's cunt, vibrating into her, causing a desperate keening whine in response like a chain reaction. 

Swapping the positions of her hand and mouth, Kit's thumb rubbed back and forth over the tender and aching clit, while her tongue entered Syb's cunt and fucked her with the same desperate need that Jacob had into her own. It didn’t take long before Sybille's walls started to flutter, so close to clamping down the same way her thighs did as they squeezed around Kit's head, keeping her in place. 

Grabbing a handful of auburn waves at the crown, Sybille’s nails dug into the other woman's scalp and another moan reverberated through her – Kit was always all too happy to have pain used against her, it only heightened the experience. 

A darkened, predatory stare watched as Syb started to grind up against Kit's face. Using the other woman to get herself off, chasing her end. "Feels good, doesn't it, rabbit?" Jacob growled, stuffing himself into Kit, bottoming out inside of her. 

Sybille could only respond with moans of delight and pleasure as the icy stare of the eyes between her thighs looked up at her, Kit’s lips curling at the reaction she was getting from the dark haired woman as she swallowed down the salty sweet taste of her.

Jacob's hand wrapped up in Kit's braid, pulling her back towards him like it was a leash. Her mouth glistened with Syb's slick arousal and his mouth crashed against hers, kissing her deeply, tasting both her and Sybille at the same time. With Kit now sitting in his lap, he continued to thrust up into her, hips snapping against her, wet flesh slapping as his cock was now bathed in her own arousal. Their moans turned to animalistic growls every time his length disappeared inside of her. His fingers gripping at her hip, desperate and demanding, hard enough to bruise – nothing new considering the layers of bruises that stained her skin ranging from yellowed and fading to the freshest of deep purples.

Syb sat up, resting on her forearms, her cunt left sensitive after the redhead had brought her to climax several times, and she watched the proud and powerful Herald's lieutenant coming undone – Muscular thighs shaking, eyes squeezed tightly shut, sweat staining her brow, clawing at her own breasts over her shirt – it was a sight to behold.

Jacob's hand traveled up the front of Kit's shirt, lifting the material, exposing the scars that spread across her abdomen, blooming on her skin. Cupping her breast in his hand, the other fingering her clit as she continued to bounce on his cock.

"That's it, kitten. That's my good girl," his voice a deep growl.

Whining, soft gasps tumbled from Kit with his words of praise quickly turning into throaty moans as Sybille crawled forward and laid between her thighs, the Deputy’s tongue now licking up the redhead’s folds – returning the favor. Coiling her arm around Jacob's neck, the other hand grasping at the back of Syb's head, Kit continued the brutal pace of her riding.

Jacob sped up the pummeling thrusts into her with each snap of his hips, her cunt fluttering and clenching around him until he finally came inside of her, coating her velvet walls. Her nails dragged against Syb’s scalp, her eyes rolling back into her head as his pace slowed, rolling his hips back and forth until finally pulling out, his cum dripping out of her. 

But Syb kept going, eating her out, licking up the drops of Jacob’s seed while she was at it. It felt like her heart would burst out of her chest, her lungs expanding and contracting in a rib cage that could no longer hold them. Her whole body was on fire, sparks ripping through her nerves, and a scream ripped from her like she was being tortured. 

Kit wrapped her hand around the front of Syb's throat, stroking the skin softly before pulling the other woman up to kiss her. Jacob's cum still collected in Syb's mouth, not yet having been swallowed, she happily slipped her tongue into the other woman's mouth and accepted the taste of her lover's seed as Syb’s hands fondled and caressed her body.

Jacob stood back with a smirk, pulling on his jeans and doing up the belt. “See, I knew there was a reason I needed ya both.”

Pressing her forehead to Syb’s, she used her thumb to wipe the corner of the Deputy’s lips, before bringing it to her mouth to suck it clean, a smile creeping across her lips making her eyes sparkle in the afterglow.

“Kitty here can be quite the handful.” Jacob said, resting against the edge of his desk, the flush in his skin starting to fade. Like a switch had been flipped, he was back to being all business as he spoke to the Deputy. “Take the carrot, Jackrabbit. No more cages, no more hunger, we’ll look after ya.” He turned his attention to his second-in-command. “Won’t we, kitten?”

She nodded, her eyes softening the way they had earlier as she looked at Sybille. “Come on, Syb. Be our little bunny. It’s a better life than what we had before.” Her fingers stroked against Syb’s cheek gently. “I promise.”