#one of my other villagers looks like Apollo maybe I’ll make a part 2

[pumpkinsouppe]

Klavier and Julian are the same character !!

When I finished up the museum last month Julian told me he was in a band until he had a falling out with a band member and omfg

[lilith-of-rivia]

The Blacksmith’s Daughter

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt X Reader

Word count: 3,259

Warnings: Swearing, slight dirty talk, mentions of death, gross wound

Summary: The blacksmiths daughter in the upper northern kingdoms, is the only reason Geralt of Riva trusts to not only fix his weaponry but his wounds. He travels long and far to see the half mage, every year. During the many years he comes to visit her town, she grows feelings (love like feelinsg) for the creature. one particular visits she realizes she can no longer hide these feelinsg from him. [possibe part 2 if interested]

My father only had one child before my mother died. My mother was someone he always referred to as his soul. The light of his life. She died when I was just a babe. He never remarried, saying he’d never disrespect the love of his life. My mother was a mage. The healer of our village. Her powers passed in some aspects down to myself, but not enough to be considered a full mage. I gained the ability for immortality like my mother, unless by blade or beast. My eyes were different from those around my small town, bright emerald green. My father loved my eyes; “Just like you lovely mother my deer.” He always said to me.

Even with the limited magical abilities I possessed I chose to help my father in his smithing shop. I started when I was 16 that was nearly 30 winters ago. I haven’t aged much past 24. Making all the locals continuously fight for my hand. My father never wavered tho. Knowing I wanted to marry for love.

Over the last 30 years I've become one of the most well known smiths in the upper northern kingdoms. I've been called upon to make weapons for the mightiest King’s, even the Lioness Calanthe herself. My blades were well known across most major cities. I had apprenticed many young men to help and the money I began to bring in, made it able for my father to retire about 10 winters ago. My craft did not only extend in my weaponry but also my herbal skills. I was responsible for training the town healers and herbalists. My mother's talents passed onto me. I was a force to be reckoned with.

“Y/N?” My youngest apprentice, Apollo called to me from the front of my shop. Placing the sword I had been sharpening on a shelf I walked to him. I was covered in soot and dirt, my long [hair color] hair resting in a messy bun atop my head. My hands were covered in thick leather gloves that my father crafted for me many years ago to protect my fragile hands. As I approached the window that my customers spoke to my workers threw I saw a man. He was tall, much taller than myself and even Apollo. Apollo was a strong young man, about 6 '1 a decent build, still looked like a boy. But this man made him look like a child. His shoulders were broad and his hair was a striking silvery grey. I knew who he was, all too well.

“Ahh Geralt of Rivia. I thought you were long dead.” My words were followed with a soft chuckle, as the corner of his lips twitched up in a small smirk. His Bard at his side beamed at me.

“Good evening Y/N. How wonderful to see you!” Jaskier said smiling. I took my gloves off my hands along with my messy apron, glancing at Apollo. He’d never met the famed witcher before.

“Apollo be a dear and go finish with Lord Ferdinand's items. He’ll be back soon to collect them.” He nodded his head before walking back to the forge along with my other two apprentices. I opened the small door to the side of the window and stepped about of my shop, the cool Autumn air chilling my warm skin after being over a hot forge for hours.

Jaskier was the first to approach me, bringing me into a tight embrace. I gladly returned the gesture. I pulled back to examine the bard.

“My how you still have yet to age. Always shocks me.” He laughs and pulls out his prized dagger. He had won it in a game of poker many years ago from a lord. The blade alone cost more than anything he possessed. He didn't need the protection. Due to the brooding witcher he always traveled with. I had mended it and only I had mended it. He never trusted another with his blade. Just as his counterpart.

“It's in need for a good sharpening, maybe a polish to the handle? As always you’ll be paid for with not only my coin, but my recommendations as we travel.” I smiled and took the dagger from him and placed it in my belt before tuning to the brooding witcher.

The relationship we shared was like one I didn't share with any other. When he came through my town, I not only fixed and mended his weaponry but also his wounds. I was no longer an active healer. Unless it was for one particular witcher with a pair of striking golden orbs that could pear into the depths of my soul. He could pry out any secrets I never told anyone. Even my father.

My father loved Geralt. Always made comments about how I should pursue him whenever he came to town. Foolish old man thinking a witcher of Geralt’s status stopping for a blacksmith's daughter. Even one of my caliber. Many years ago he traveled with a mage named Yennifer, I adored her when she came with him. An adoring young thing, always willing to teach me new ways in medicine.

They were lovers for many years until they drifted apart. Yennefer found love in her first mate Istredd. They married a few years ago. Occasionally Yennifer would pass through and we’d catch up over a pint of ale, and she'd tell me of her travels looking for a cure to her empty womb. I pitied the woman, she desperately wanted children.

Knowing women of Yennifer’s caliber were who Geralt went for always made me hesitate from telling him my true feelings. I had fallen madly in love with the witcher. He stayed weeks at a time some years in my town, killing monsters in closer towns and being our own personal Witcher. The townspeople loved him, contrary to many other villages and cities.

“How many wounds am I healing today, wolf?” I asked as I approached him, his small smirk formed into a genuine smile as he embraced me. My arms around his broad shoulders as he bent to hug me. I could feel him grimace under my touch as my chest pressed to his own. I pulled away with a soft frown before lifting his shirt softly. Revealing a large deep gash spreading from his upper chest to his pant line. The gash was angry, yellow pus now oozy in certain areas. My brows lifted on my forehead in shock.

“You bloody idiot. How long has this gone untreated?” I asked quite harshly as I walked back into my shop, gathering my cloak and notebook full of orders to fill. I placed Jaskiers Dagger on a shelf.

“I’ll see you lads tomorrow, don’t forget to lock up tonight. Send for me if you need it.” I called my three workers in the back who all smiled and nodded before refocusing on their tasks.

I walked back out to the two men who were waiting for me. I shot a glare at Jaskier. “You let him walk around with an infection like that ?” I snapped as we started walking to the edge of town, passing the tavern and inn they both had spent many nights in.

“He refused to see anyone other than you, we’ve been traveling to see you for three consecutive days.” I directed my glair to the witcher who had a sly smirk on his lips.

“It's not that bad you drama queen.” I scoffed at his words before reaching over and brushing my fingertips along the cufeather-light. He hissed in pain and nearly doubled over.

“Yeah not that bad. You idiot loaf.” We walked at a quick pause up a small road from the main, up to my small cabin on the outskirts of the forest. I opened the door placing down my belongings before, sitting Geralt down on a chair in my kitchen. Jaskier on the other side, his hands on the book that had set there that I read in the mornings.

I rushed around my kitchen grabbing the herbs and viles full of oils and serums. I grumbled to myself at the stupidity of the witcher while I filled a pail with clean water. “Shirt off.” It wasn't a question or anything he could argue with. I knew he wouldn’t. I could hear his grunts of pain as he peeled his black shirt off. Once the pail was full of water I grabbed a box full of fresh wrapping and set everything on the table as Jaskier read unbothered.

I crouched in front of Geralt, my fingers tracing the angered skin surrounding the gash. I inhaled deeply, the scent of the wound filling my nose. It was badly infected but nothing I couldn't fix.

“Werewolf?” I asked, knowing I was right. The smell of the wolf’s claws being the first I could smell.

“Yeah, a real fucker too. Nearly broke my blade.” He hissed, In part of his anger at his last hunt, and due to the stinging of the alcohol I had poured on the clean cloth dabbing and cleaning the wound. His muscles contracted under my touch. I sighed but continued my work, spreading a lavender oil over the outside of the gash, soothing the skin. I grabbed a jar scooping out a helping of a cream made of hemlock and musk mallow to help the infection. After a thick paste was covering the gash I placed a few pieces of gauze over it keeping it protected. Once I was finished I looked up at the witcher, who was watching me intently. His amber eyes are boring into my emerald ones.

“I suggest you stay here a few days, till you’re healed more. So I can keep an eye on that infection.” I said with a soft smile. He grabbed a pack off his hip and placed three coins on my table, making me shake my head.

“Geralt, keep it I-“

“You just used so many fucking things on me. Take the money. Replenish your stock.” I rolled my eyes taking the coin from the table and putting it in my pocket, knowing I’d be giving it to the needy in town. I had plenty.

Jaskier placed the book he was reading down and smiled.

“Know that the broot is no longer dying, care to get some ale?” He asked, making me laugh.

“Let me see your sword first.” I was the only person on this plant that he allowed to touch that beloved sword. He pulled it from its sheath and handed it to me. I looked over the blade, seeing the dullness, and how fragile the silver was.

“Lucky for you, we replenish our silver last week, I have plenty to fix this blunt blade.” I placed the sword back in its sheath before placing it on a hook on my door. I walked back over to Geralt, taking his chin in my hand making him look up at me from his seated position.

“If you ever come to me with an infection like that again. I will kill you instead of heal you.” My threats fell flat, I knew that. He chuckled softly before kissing my hand softly.

“Thank you, my dear, Y/N. I already feel better.” I smiled softly and looked over at Jaskier who was just watching with an exasperated expression. He knew we had a weird relationship and truly couldn’t understand why we never became anything more than friends.

“How about that ale?” He said after clearing his throat. I nodded, grabbing his shirt from the floor and helping it back over his head. The men left their items in my home after I insisted they stay with me instead of going to the inn. And we were on our way to the bustling tavern. Filed with laughing people celebrating the end of the week with the sweet peach ale our town was best known for. Geralt and Jaskier found a table as I went to thbarkeep.

“Ahh Y/N!! How are you, my dear?” He asked as he filed the tankers with the cold bubbly ale.

“Quite well August thank you. Hope your ax is doing better?” I asked, speaking of the ax I had fixed for him less than a month ago.

“Oh works wonderfully!” He smiled sweetly at me passing me the tankers and I pulled out the coin but he held his hand out.

“First rounds on the house.” I smiled and nodded at the man grabbing the tankers turning my back to him and walking back to the two men I left. As I approached I saw Annabel. A quite permisquess young thing, not that it was my business what she did with her body, all over Geralt. I felt envy course, threw my body as she groped his chest. I saw his face contort in pain as she brushed her hand down his chest, and he gently pushed her back, but of course, she didn't get the message. I walked up behind her, setting the ale on the table firmly before taking her wrist in my hand spinning her to face me.

“He is hurt, a massive gash, infected puss all over the bandages. Stop. Touching.” My voice was harsh as I glared at the young woman. Her head dropped as she walked away from me in a hurry. I let out a huff as I sat next to Geralt. I could almost feel his smirk as he looked at me. I lifted the tanker to my lips sipping the sweet ale as did Jaskier who was also smiling at me.

“I'll stab your eyes out of your head if you keep looking at me like that Bard.” I spat and he rolled his eyes standing with the ale in his hand looking over at a group of young women.

“I’m going to party, but now I’m also leaving you two alone too” He pointed his free hand in between the two of us, “figure out what the hell you are. Don't wait up.” He left us as he walked to the group of women ready to brag about his adventures with the feared witcher. My cheeks were warm at his words, as I gulped down more of the ale, ignoring Geralt’s persistent gaze as he drank his ale.

“Any idea what Jaskier may be talking about, dove?” He asked, his arm now draped around my chair, his fingers brushing my arm lightly.

“Don't get any smart ide,as Witcher, you're in no place to fuck with a wound like that.” I didn't look at him.

“No one said anything about fucking dove.” That godforsaken nickname made my nipples harden. And my cunt moisten. I finally turned to him, he was inches away from my face. His ale is now on the table. His hand gently cupped my face.

“I’m serious. Even if I wanted to, you cant. It could break the scabs forming.” I couldn't help but lean into his warm rough calloused hand. My hands were similar in feel due to my craft.

“I never mentioned fuking dove, but if you really wanted to. You’d be my first pick.” His lips were inches from mine. My breathing became more erratic at his words, my heartbeat was quickening. He chuckled softly. Inhaling deeply.

“I can not only hear your heart but smell your arousal, my love.” I bit my lip softly and closed my eyes gently. I wanted to, more than anything. But I couldn't just fuck him and ignore the love I felt for the man.

“You’ll leave soon Geralt. And my heart cannot handle it.” It was now or never. I pulled back a little looking in his eyes. “I've been in love with you for many many years. You coming threw and staying when you do is the happiest I am all year, but I know you do not feel the same. I can't fuck you and then watch you leave. You may leave now and never speak-“ I didn't even have the chance to finish my rambling because his lips were pressed to mine. His hands now both on my cheeks. His lips were rough and tasted sweet. It lasted mere minutes. Before he pulled away.

“I will always come home to you, my dove. If you’ll have me.” He said with a smile. My heart was beating faster again. His hands were now holding my own.

“I've never been good with words, but there is a reason I only trust you to tend to my wounds and my swords. You are not just another woman to me. I need you in my life. If you’ll have me, I'll always return to you after every hunt and If I’m needed far, you’ll come with me.” My eyes were welling with tears at his sweet words. It was all I ever wanted him to say. This time I pressed my lips to his. It was softer than before, longer. Full of more passion. More love than any kiss I had ever shared.

“I’ll always take you in your stupid bafoon.” He chuckled softly at my words and leaned back placing his arm around my shoulders again, his eyes scanning the crowd, landing on Jaskier who was singing his least favorite tune. But even the hated song couldn't damper the Witcher’s smile.

“You’ll now need to ask my father for his blessing if you plan to take me with you,” I whispered, nodding my head to the direction of where my father was seated, talking to his companions laughing and joking. Geralt cleared his throat and got to his feet, his fingers laced on my own. He led me through the crowd.

“Mr. Y/L/N?” Geralt asked, his shoulders pressed back as he stood behind my father, his hand not leaving my own. My father turned, saw our hands then the face of the man I was with.

“Geralt!! So good to see y, ou my boy!” He stood and patted Geralt's shoulder.

“How’s the hunt these days?”

“Very good sir, I um... actually have a question for you.” My father smiled and looked at me. Winking.

“What's that lad?” He asked.

“Can I have your blessing to take your daughter's hand in marriage?” I nearly choked on my own spit at his words. My heart is now hammering out of my chest. My cheeks bright red as I squeezed his hand. My father laughed and threw his hands in the air.

“Finally!! A more than worthy suitor for my dear daughter!” The men behind him cheered a few men in the bar looking over eyes burning into Geralt in jealousy.

“You are the only one for my daughter's dear boy. My dear wife Gladdis wouldn’t have been happier. You protect my daughter. With your life. And you have my blessing.” My father stuck his hand out and Geralt let go of mine to shake it.

“I’d die before a hair is harmed on her head, sir.” My father laughed.

“So it will be a wedding in the future! A round on me for everyone!!” The tavern cheered and my father hugged me, kissing my cheek before whispering, “I Told you,my dear. And you thought I was wrong.” I laughed softly and hugged him tightly. An arm wrapped around my hip. Jaskier cheered and started to play a tune on his lute. Geralt bent down his lips by my ear.

“I love you to the moon and back, dove.”

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Discord of Prosecutors and Detectives

More Bullshit Defense AU fic, and a different Discord server from the other times. Set right after Turnabout Time Traveler.

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[A Discord server named “Official Los Angeles Distrinct Prosecutors Office���. The typo has been present since the creation of the server and never fixed. It contains a number of channels, such as “general”, “important announcements”, “unimportant announcements”, “work vent”, “family vent”, “other vent”, “meme quarantine”, and “meme breach of containment”.]

September 24, 2028 4:33pm [general]

Forensics Fuck-O so that’s in short how Fran and I get to go to a fancy rich people wedding

the defendant is Freud’s corpse not to sound rude to prosecutors or anything since I work with you all and am friends with you all but I’m surprised they invited the prosecution like in general it’s not you Frau it’s just like generally why would you invite someone who tried to convict you for murder to your wedding

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Ah.  That may present a future problem. 

the defendant is Freud’s corpse well no that’s different we knew you like. before you prosecuted Trucy also that’s different because you weren’t even trying to convict her

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard That is a blatantly untrue statement, Ms. Cykes. I was doing my job to the whole of my abilities. 

the defendant is Freud’s corpse right yknow I guess you’re not lying if you consider the job of a prosecutor to be catching the guilty and not just convicting whatever defendant they place in front of you because you were not trying to convict Trucy  like in the slightest

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Well, Thalassa did tell me that the identity of the victim was not the original Mr. Reus, and further that the Gramarye-hating TV producer who committed contract fraud was the original Mr. Reus, and should that not be enough to make anyone suspicious? I could hardly discount critical testimony from my brother’s other mother. 

Forensics Fuck-O Isn’t it ‘brother from another mother’

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Yes and I said what I said, because my family tree is a mangrove swamp. 

Surrounded by Fools That is correct because I just realized that we may be related. 

the defendant is Freud’s corpse but like Trucy aside I mean like this situation where you’d never met the fancy rich people having a wedding before and you’re the one trying to get the bride convicted and she’s like hey come to my third attempt at a wedding reception maybe this one will work out

Forensics Fuck-O The defense was invited and that’s Miles and Mr Wright and Maya so they kinda encouraged the invite to us Which is fantastic because that catering was dope

FaraGAY I’m so jealous I wanna go to a wedding on a blimp hey @Surrounded by Fools if ur bro and Nick ever get married can they get a “we saved ur asses” discount from the Sprocketts to rent the blimp for their wedding or can you and Emmy get ur shits together and get married on a blimp who doesn’t want a blimp wedding

Forensics Fuck-O lmao you should’ve seen Mr Wright’s face when we went out on top of the blimp he looked like he was gonna hork and just dragged us all back down  I don’t think he wants a blimp wedding

FaraGAY hey what about that other part that I said are u ignoring that

Forensics Fuck-O Conspicuously ignoring that, in fact

the defendant is Freud’s corpse I wanna attend a wedding on a blimp or just like any wedding because I remember the food was good at my moms’ and I got to eat a lot of it because we got a lot of food but only invited like ten people

Birdman-dono Which unfortunately meant less people to hear my roast of my sister. 

the defendant is Freud’s corpse I don’t care what my mom says about your speechifying I’m totally letting you make a speech at my wedding it’ll be MY wedding so I get to choose to get roasted! anyway @everyone someone get married already!! Blimp time!!!!!

Guilty Love, on the kazoo Mhm, Apollo isn’t fond of heights so I don’t think that’s something we would do. 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Are y you marrying my brother?

Guilty Love, on the kazoo Huh? No

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Then why NOT? Either commit or stop stringing him along. 

Guilty Love, on the kazoo wait

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard I have been very restrained about not kicking your ass but this is my little brother we are talking about.  And one thing I know very well about Apollo is that he prefers stability and certainty because we spent enough of our childhoods not knowing what was coming in the next day or hour. 

Guilty Love, on the kazoo wait

the defendant is Freud’s corpse I think there’s a communication issue somewhere in here

Forensics Fuck-O Thanks for that, Sherlock

Birdman-dono lmao

Guilty Love, on the kazoo I am not currently planning a wedding to your brother but I would not be averse to the prospect

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Oh Well then why AREN’T you currently planning it? That’s a joke this time. 

Guilty Love, on the kazoo Danke I was not sure

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard It would not be a joke from my parents but I am not them.  I know you were frustrated that Apollo didn’t tell you what was happening back in May in time for you to come to Khura’in with us and help us sort out everything but that was probably better for you that you didn’t have to survive our parents cross-examining and interrogating you on when you plan to propose to Apollo. 

Guilty Love, on the kazoo Why am I the one who has to and not him 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk You think they DON’T hassle him about it?

Guilty Love, on the kazoo A h 

FaraGAY LMAOOOO 

DebestGAY guy entering the room that is on fire with pizza dot gif 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard ‘Where are the grandkids, Apollo? We’re WAITING!’ 

Guilty Love, on the kazoo They do uh realize that uh 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard ‘Just adopt a dozen, Apollo, what are you waiting for?’ 

Guilty Love, on the kazoo A DOZEN 

FaraGAY LMAO KLAV  RIP 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard I am well aware that had my aunt not been a human nightmare, and then the country needed rebuilding after her reign, that I would have at least ten younger siblings.

Forensics Fuck-O So they’re just like the Fran’s dad of the eastern hemisphere like here are the eight young adults who have lived out of the guest room at some point or another 

FaraGAY half of the current legal system half of this chat yknow  anyway we drifted away from the point of this convo WHICH WAS harassing someone into getting married so we can go party on a blimp 

DebestGAY Couldn’t we just rent a blimp and throw a non-wedding party? 

FaraGAY get ur logic out of here we want a blimp party  and to encourage our stupid friends to stop beating round the bush and just get married already 

Surrounded by Fools I’ll tell Maya that you’re planning to propose soon, then, and it can be your wedding.  

FaraGAY wait 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Kurain Village likely has some very specific wedding traditions for their mediums that could not be held on a blimp, no? 

FaraGAY  yeah think so thx for the out, my dude 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard That was not an ‘out’. That was an ‘obviously your solution is to have two ceremonies’. Hop to it.  

the defendant is Freud’s corpse HELL yeah!!! two parties!!! double food!!!!! 

FaraGAY  o fuck yeah Maya would like that okay maybe if none of u other LOSERS are then I will be the one to get married and have a BLIMP PARTY 

-

September 24, 2028 11:37pm [general] 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Ms. Cykes, there is something I meant to ask you about your name in this server.  And that ‘something’ is: what? 

the defendant is Freud’s corpse I’m gonna dig up Freud and put him on trial for crimes against 1. humanity 2. classic literature it’s not like Oedipus WANTED that to happen!! so anyway it’s like you know that one pope who dug up his predecessor and put him on trial and sentenced him 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard NO??

the defendant is Freud’s corpse yeah go look that up you were prob already looking that up before I said but yeah that’s what I wanna do with Freud 

Literally Royal, Metaphorically Bastard Thank you for making me hate myself for asking.  

the defendant is Freud’s corpse

✌️

- 

September 30 9:43pm [general]

Forensics Fuck-O fancy rich people wedding update: Larry caught the bouquet and you all know what that means so @FaraGAY if you wanna have the first flying wedding of our social group you’ll have to beat him to it 

FaraGAY can’t believe Ol Larold is gonna get married good for him he’d better invite me or I’ll break his knees 

Surrounded by Fools Larold 

FaraGAY ye Ol Larold Butt 

Forensics Fuck-O I’m gonna break your knees

[thegreenfairy13]

Salacious Start Part 1/2

A Gobblepot Fanfic. AU. Edward Nygma leaves Oswald Cobblepot for Mrs. Kringle. Heartbroken, Oswald tries returning the goods he bought for a very special night with his boyfriend. At the sex shop, he runs into sales assistant Jim Gordon and develops a massive crush. Read it on Ao3 here. 

Her name is Kirsten, or Kristine, or Kristen. Oswald doesn’t know, doesn’t care. All he knows is that her name, whatever that might be, numbs him, makes him feel weak to the core. Red hair, wherever he spots it, feels like being engulfed in fire; he’s sick of red hair, and frumpy glasses, and pencil-skirts. Heels make him want to gag.

Kirstine Krankle. That’s her name, probably, maybe, could be, doesn’t matter. Before that bigoted witch entered his life, everything had been fine. Deep down he knows it’s not her fault, but the wound is still too fresh, his love for Ed still too deep for him to think clearly. Only days ago, they had been in love, almost ready to go public, to tell the world that the entrepreneur Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot and his bookkeeper, Edward Nygma, are a couple. Of course, that was before Ed found Kirsten - and back to God, whatever that might mean.

“You know, Oz,” he said, holding his hand too tightly for it to be comfortable, sweating profusely while doing so, “I’m not really gay.”

The table had been set for a romantic dinner. Olga, his housekeeper, had placed flowers on the dining-room table, candles had been lit, silver cutlery and crystal-glasses sparkled in the pale light. A metal clamp grasped Oswald’s heart and squeezed it tightly.

“I’ve never been,” Ed carried on, and honestly, it would have been more merciful if he had just shot him into the guts. “You’ll understand, in my line of work, it wouldn’t look good if I was with a man.”

Oswald’s ears are ringing. Not really gay? What's that even supposed to mean?! What line of work? He’s a bookkeeper, for fuck’s sake! Not that he’d ever say ‘fuck’ out loud, he’s way too dignified for that, but in his own head, he can swear all he wants.

“I won’t deny it, I’ve been infatuated with you, but you’ll have to admit, we’re not suited for the long run,” Ed said, looking expectantly at the man who had only seconds ago been ready to spend his entire life with him. “It was a misstep, and I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said gazing intently into his eyes. “But we can remain friends,” he suggested and Oswald wanted to vomit.

“I understand,” he said instead, forcing a broad smile onto his face.

And that was basically the story of how Edward Nygma walked out of his life.

Well, almost.

There was still this little, discreet, white plastic bag in the corner of his bedroom. It should have been a surprise for Ed.

Oswald knows Ed likes it rough. He himself isn’t particularly fond of pain but who is he to deny Ed his pleasure? So one fine day he set out and bought shackles with pink plush covering the metal, a whip, and a blindfold. He wanted to give Ed a special experience, an unforgettable night. Now, those items just make him want to cry.

Entering the sex-shop once more, even weeks later, isn’t any easier than it had been the first time. His heart is beating too fast, his hands are shaking, and not even his sunglasses grant him any sort of privacy. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder, hoping nobody he knows will recognize him here; despite the fact that those people would be shopping here too.

He rushes through the aisles, hoping to find a salesperson soon. Oswald just has to return the items before they drive him crazy.

He bumps into a man built like a locker: broad shoulders, heavy biceps, perfect abs, gorgeous blue eyes, hair like the color of the sun.

Swallowing heavily, Oswald reads the name tag: ‘Hi, I’m Jim,” it reads and there’s another button right next to it: ‘Don’t be shy, I’m bi.’

Oswald feels the blood rising up his cheeks as he takes the information in. His throat runs dry when the other man arches his eyebrow at him, staring him sternly down. All of a sudden, he can see the appeal of whips, shackles, and blindfolds with absolute clarity. And good graces, he does feel shy.

“Can I help you?” the man asks and if Oswald ever heard thunder, well, it’s not half as intimidating as this deep voice. It’s a low rumble, the sound of molten lava on its way to destroy entire villages. It's only purpose is to wipe out each and every resistance. Oswald’s knees go weak.

“Yes,” he squeaks, having never felt smaller in his entire life. The man talking to him is a Roman god come to life, he’s Apollo, he’s Ares, he’s gorgeous, perfect, beyond words.

And he?

He’s Oswald: too scrawny, too pale, too black-haired, and he’s got a disability. Ever since that damn car-accident, he limps, his knee is turned sideways at the weirdest angle and he can’t even outrun a snail.

‘Hi Jim, I’m bi,” could probably outrun a sports-car if he wanted.

Swallowing heavily, Oswald clutches the plastic bag tightly to his chest. And no, he’s definitely not ogling the man, not a bit, no sir! He’s just very tastefully checking him out, that’s all.

Jim rolls his eyes and waits for his tongue-tied customer to speak at last.

“I’m certain you can help me with all kinds of sorts,” Oswald blurts out, mentally kicking himself how that came out. For a second, the employee looks taken aback but he composes himself quickly enough. By that point, Oswald’s cheeks probably resemble a wildfire.

“I simply want to return some goods,” Oswald finally shares, slowly releasing his death-grip on his plastic-bag. In comparison to Mr. Ares, he sounds like a teenage girl talking to one of the Jonas brothers.

“We don’t take anything back unless the sanitary-seal is still intact,” Jim informs him cooly while already holding out his hand to take the bag from Oswald’s trembling fingers. “You’ll understand that in this kind of shop we only resell stuff if…”

“I perfectly understand,” Oswald interrupts. “And I can assure you that my seal is perfectly undamaged, untouched,” he rambles on, fighting the urge to bite his fingernails. “You can totally check if you want,” he adds nervously. “In fact, I’d love you to see…”

Oswald thankfully snaps his mouth shut when observing Jim’s eyebrows slowly creeping up to his hairline. It takes him a moment, but then he finally understands. Slapping a hand over his mouth he just stares at Jim, mortified.

“That,” Oswald stutters. “That,” he soldiers on, stumbling awkwardly through the words, “that wasn’t me trying to tell you I’m a virgin.” “My seal is broken,” he rattles on. “I mean if I had a seal,” he adds, earning himself a bewildered expression from his newfound Roman god.

Shaking his head, Jim takes the bag mutely from Oswald’s hands. “I think I’ll check for myself,” he mutters flatly and the raven-haired man prays for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

One year! One year he had been with Edward, his first boyfriend, his only boyfriend. It just hits Oswald now how easy everything had been with him. Everything had progressed naturally, no awkward flirting on either part had been necessary, and thank god for that! He’s terrible at it!

To Oswald’s endless mortification, Jim tips out his purchases over the counter and checks if the original packing is indeed still undamaged. “You still got the bill?” he asks, not a hint of emotion to his voice.

“I, yes,” the embarrassed entrepreneur rasps out, checking each and every of his pockets and coming up with nothing.

“Sorry,” Jim tells him flatly. “Not taking anything back without the receipt,” he adds with determination and if that attitude doesn’t make Oswald’s blood run hot and cold at once! This man is steadfast, he can tell, and it’s a massive turn on.

But Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot isn’t used to taking orders. Especially not by some sales-assistant. He’s used to getting his will and right now, he wants to get rid of his Ed-memorabilia - right the fuck now.

“I’m sure there could be something arranged,” he whispers conspiratorially once he found his voice again. He doesn’t know it comes off as slightly disconcerting. “I mean,” he continues, dropping his voice an octave in order to sound more persuasive, “it won’t be that hard for you to just issue an invoice for your, eh, services." Oswald’s eyes wander down Jim's chest, reading the name tag once more, and really, somebody should have told him to be more subtle. "The tip I’d leave would be as handsome as you if you know what I mean, Jim,” he adds with a clumsy wink, trying to sound flirtatious.

Jim drops the bag as if it had bitten him. “I’m sorry?” he asks slowly, sending off all sorts of alarm bells in the other man's head. “I think I’ve misheard you,” he says, drawing out the words very slowly, almost angrily. He straightens himself. With his back stiffened and his chest puffed out, Jim looks even taller - and a lot more intimidating.

“I, no?” Oswald asks insecurely, shrinking another two inches.

Shoving the bag back into the pale man’s hands, Jim backs away. Eyes narrowed threateningly, he goes into a lecture the usual sales assistant wouldn’t dare to give a customer. “The button on my chest might say ‘don't be shy’, but that sure as hell doesn’t involve proposing paid sex," he informs him bluntly. "It's just our way of encouraging our customers to ask questions. If you need someone to fulfill your desires,” he adds with a knowing twitch to his lips and simultaneously shoving the bag back into Oswald’s arms, I’d go to another establishment. But I’ll happily answer any question on penis pumps you might have.”

With those words, he turns on his heels, leaving a mortified Oswald behind. Again clutching the bag helplessly, he’s right back where he started with the only difference that he made a complete fool of himself. Cursing under his breath, he tries figuring out how that encounter could have probably gone so terribly wrong. Worrying his lower lip, he considers calling after Jim but the man won’t even look into his direction.

Shoulders slumped, Oswald decides to leave the store and wait until Jim finishes work. Well, in hindsight he really should have given that idea a second thought.  

[translationandbetrayals]

Animal Crossing had a movie?

Most people can agree that doing chores is boring, but what if you could make them in the virtual world?. The answer is pretty fun, actually. Today I will be talking about the Animal Crossing Movie that was released in 2006 in Japan, but first let talk about the game that started it all!

The game Animal Crossing was first released in 2001 as a Japan-only game called Doubutsu no Mori.

Doubutsu no Mori (Animal forest in english) was originally developed as an RPG for the Nintendo 64DD, but later they decided to rather release it for the Nintendo 64. Since the 64DD had better hardware capabilities than the original 64, a lot of changes had to be done: the RPG elements(such as dungeons and bosses) were scrapped. Although the game’s main features were kept: the relationship with the animals and an environment that progresses in real life time. This last one was one of the most important things of the game, as one day in real life was also one day in Doubutsu no Mori. Many things were time gated, which made coming back every day a really fun and interesting adventure.

The game is about you, a human kid, moving to an Animal Village to live a simple life surrounded by trees and a lot of talking animals. You can collect fruits, bugs, fossils, decorate your home and most importantly, interact with all of the animals, each one of them having a different personality and traits(hence the “Communication Game” label in the box).

The game features a  simple gameplay, it is not focused in any particular goals, as the player can interact with the game in any way they want to. The game most unique feature is that each player experience is different; the Village you live in is randomly generated and the villagers that live in them are chosen randomly from a list. 

A couple of moths after the release of Doubutsu no Mori, the game was ported to the Gamecube as Doubutsu no Mori+, adding some extra features. Most importantly, the game was also released worldwide as Animal Crossing. This version of the game wasn’t just a translation though, instead the team of Nintendo of America had to do a lot of localization work, after all, the original game was full of japanese culture references. For example, the Bell Shrine was replaced for a wishing well, and Hatsumoude for New Years Eve. Some furniture and clothing were also removed or replaced. But it wasn’t just a work of removing, they also included a lot of new events such as Thanksgiving, April Fools and even Spring Cleaning. Later, Animal crossing was ported back to japan as Doubutsu No mori e+, due to the game having a lot of interesting new stuff.

All four iterations of the game

In 2005 a sequel was released for the Nintendo DS, Oideyo Doubutsu no mori, or Animal Crossing: Wild World in America. The game was total a hit. It sold very very well, so Nintendo decided to capitalize on this by making a feature-length film based on the game.

*Side note, I’ll be using both Japanese and English names for the characters like this: Japanese(English), also, Spoilers Ahead

Gekijouban Doubutsu No Mori (The Animal Forest Movie) released in 2006, it’s a very special and weird movie. It doesn’t follow the classical 3 act structure of most western films, so to me it felt a little strange. Many times during the film I was like “Oh, maybe the movie is gonna be about this”, but no, the movie doesn’t do that.

The intro sequence is just like in the game, the -human- protagonist Ai is travelling in a taxi with Kappei(Kapp’n) and talking about her destination: Doubutsu Mura(Animal Village). The film has a lot references to the game, and when I say a lot, I mean a lot. The introduction sequence is just the first of many.

Intro sequence, movie vs game

After Ai arrives at the Animal Village, we begin a very long but charming introduction sequence. We start meeting the characters that we will be seeing throughout the film, each one of which exude a lot of personality from the very first moment we see them. This helps to build a familiar atmosphere to the one in the game. It’s incredible how much they nailed this, because anywhere the movie goes, each detail reminds you of the game; whether it is the gorgeous backgrounds, the awesome music, familiar locations and the way characters act and speak.

Ai visiting Able Sisters, a location in the game too

I think that this rich atmosphere is something that’s both good and bad. Yes, it makes you feel really at home if you are familiar with the game, but it can make you very confused if you are not. For example, one of the other human characters, Yuu, is seen wearing different outfits throughout the film, something that’s a big part of the game and it might not make you question anything at first, but then we see him wearing facial hair, and then a monk ponytail. Also there is an scene where Totakeke(K.K. Slider) is introducing himself in japanese, but then he starts singing like he sings in the game(high pitched nonsensical sounds), and again, if you are not familiar with the game you are gonna be really confused.

Totakeke

Anyway, after a while we are introduced to our main cast, Yuu which is a human kid from another village; and three animals Buuke(Rosie), Sarii(Margie) and Aruberuto(Alfonso). Yuu is a representation of a more advanced player, we can see him doing stuff you do in the game like catching bugs or making villagers fall into holes, wearing different outfits and hunting for treasure.

Ai and Sarii

Out of the three Animal characters the most important is Sarii, she becomes Ai’s first friend, and a lot of the plot is based around the relationship between these two characters. We learn that Sarii has a dream of becoming a fashion designer, because of this she later leaves the Village(another thing that can happen in the game), but without telling Ai, this leaves her with a sad feeling, although this inspires her to pursue her own dream or “cherry pie” as both friends used to refer to their dream or passion. She was very puzzled about what her “cherry pie” was, but out of nowhere a series of bottles with a letter inside start to appear on the chore(this also happens in the game!), the letters have cryptic messages about planting Pine trees so that a miracle could occur during the Winter Festival. Ai realizes that this is her chance so she follows what the letters said. 

Animal Village during the Winter Festival

When the moment finally comes a UFO appears in the sky, with no other than Jonii(Gulliver) inside, he ask the people of the village for help to find the 5 missing pieces of his ship(this event can also happen in the game). The villagers quickly realize that he is not a real alien, but decide to help him anyway. Ai and her friends start searching for the pieces, and when they find the last one they realize that there are 6 parts instead of 5. This extra part wasn’t one of Jonii’s missing pieces, instead they discover that it’s actually a baby UFO that stranded on the village. A series of real UFOs start to appear in the sky, as the little baby UFO starts moving and gets healed of its wound thanks to a ray from what seems to be the mother ship. The UFOs leave, but before they leave a surprise: Ali’s face in the sky.

The villagers are really impressed by this, so much in fact that they decide that the winner of that year Winter Festival should be Ai. After this the movie ends with a final message from Ai,saying that this was the first time that she really felt part of the Animal Village.

  As a fan of animal crossing I can say that it’s a great movie. You can clearly see that there was a lot of effort and care put into making this movie feel as much as the game as possible. They even brought people that work in the original games to help make the movie. 

But the movie also has some flaws. There are many subplots in the movie, like Apollo’s flowers or his relationship with Bianka(Whitney), that go nowhere. They are not addressed after they are set up, and it kinda feels like they just didn’t have enough time to develop these stories properly. Some other subplots, like when they into a cave looking for fossils, feel too short and kinda out of place. I’m not saying that these are not enjoyable moments, but they are not used for anything else. This makes me feel like this shouldn’t have been a movie, if anything it should have been an anime, or maybe a series of OVAs. The little stories would have worked way much better if it was a TV series instead of just one film, where it feels like they crammed as many stories as they could.

But don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel like this ruins the entire movie. Personally, this just leaves me with an empty feeling, like I really crave more movie. Sadly there was never a part 2, even though the movie sold well. And what pisses me off the most, is the fact that the movie was never released worldwide(just like many other anime/movies/games nintendo has done in the past). I discovered the existence of this movie not a long ago. Nintendo aired the film again(Japan only) in March of this year due to the release of Animal Crossing New Horizons, but still no worldwide release :( 

There’s a lot of humor and charm in every scene, and it really makes for enjoyable movie. I’d recommend you to watch it, even more so if you are an Animal Crossing fan.

  I would like to leave with my favourite quote from the movie:

“When you are starving, you become sad. And when you are sad, you become hungry.”

Luis Sobarzo

[brylcool]

Aged Orpheus

They followed the birds’ flight through the wood. If not by sight, then by song. Some chirped and others tweeted, but for Larissa it was music all the same. She followed them along the seemingly endless stream, branching off into this direction and that, curving one way then the other, sometimes clogged with the branches and leaves of trees and grasses that were no longer for the earth, teeming, if she looked closely, with fish and frog alike. She ran ahead of Paris, who kept pace just fine, aided by a stick he’d found at the start of their walk.

“Come OOOOOOoon!” Larissa would yell before running ahead.

When she ran out of sight, Paris didn’t worry. He could hear the crunch of her steps on branches and the shaking of the trees she’d disturb with her bounding through the wood. While not quite fearless, she was bold. At the start of the forest, she rocketed forward before stopping suddenly and turning to Paris with one question: Are there snakes? Paris assured her that there were none, and even if there were, her boots were thick enough to keep her safe from one’s bite. Reassured, she ran on. Splashed puddles, either by sound or sight of ripples, showed him her path so well that scanning the leaf-strewn ground, yellow and brown, was unnecessary. She was a child that demanded one’s sensory attention in a way that Paris liked. She made him feel alive.

When the songs stopped, though, she stopped. Paris caught up to her in a small clearing.

“There’s no more birds?” Larissa said aloud.

“Sure there are birds. But maybe they’re in the trees and don’t feel like singing right now. Maybe they’re having a rest.”

In the center of the clearing was a single birch tree. It was tall and white, but surrounded on the ground by the brightest leaves they’d seen all day.

Before Paris could propose taking a break underneath, Larissa had already run to the tree. The leaves surrounding it were pristine: they hadn’t been trod on by people passing by, squirrels on the hunt for nuts or by foxes on the hunt for squirrels. In seconds Larissa had her hands full of golden leaves and a few red ones.

“Par-IS, come OVER here!” She said as she sat down with a thud under the tree. Sometimes her energy didn’t allow for gracefulness. She had set to work tying the stems together, making the kind of autumnal crown that Russian children expertly made in the fall.

“Who taught you how to do that?” Paris asked.

“MA-ma!”

“You should make her one too. There are enough leaves here. I think she’d like a crown.”

“You should HELP” Larissa added, not looking up from her own labors.

Paris walked over and set his stick down next to her. He gathered some leaves. They were so plentiful that even if he picked up two or three, there were more underneath.

He sat down next to Larissa and set to making a crown. This was done by bending the stem of one leaf, making a little loop, and hooking another loop through it, 2-3 rows back until the sun rose around every little girl’s face.

Larissa saw that he was bending his stems far too sharply.

“No, не так!” She exclaimed, taking a leaf out of his hand before he could damage it.

Larissa carefully guided his fingers around the stem, until it curled properly around another one.

“Вот так!”

Paris thanked her and followed this way until he too had come close to a finished crown.

“Whose crown am I making anyway?” Paris asked.

“You’re making Mama’s crown.”

Paris smiled to himself. They kept working, side by side.

“PA-RIS!” Larissa said, springing to her feet, holding her creation out with both hands. “Crown me queen!”

“Isn’t Mama queen? Shouldn’t you be princess?”

“Can’t we BOTH be Queen?”

“I think there’s a rule against that.”

“PA-RIS!”

“Okay, okay, just don’t tell Mama,”

Larissa nodded excitedly and eagerly shook the crown, which was really more a wreath, in front of Paris. He accepted it and held it above her head.

“I proclaim thee Queen of all these woods and surrounding lands, villages, townships, municipalities, fiefdoms–”

“I think that’s enough!” Larissa exclaimed, pulling the crown down herself and holding it with both hands on her head. “Now to see my kingdom!”

She ran around Paris and the birch, her footsteps swishing up the leaves, making a large ring around the birch, against which Paris once again sat.

She made several revolutions before sitting back down next to him.

“Paris, why’s there no more sound?”

“The birds must be resting,” he replied. “Maybe they flew to another forest.”

“Humph. I want music,” Larissa pouted. “Paris, can you sing?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why don’t you sing?”

“Noooo I already KNOW the songs I know. Pigeons go vrrroooooot and sparrows go CHEEP CHEEP and the singing birds all sound different but I already know what I know. Sing me something!”

Paris looked at insistent Larissa, her reddish brown hair and her crown of golden leaves. He had an idea.

Paris stretched out his arms and Larissa eagerly walked over. He lifted her up and gently brought her down on his lap. She leaned back on his chest, legs resting on his, muddy boots and all.

“I’ll recite a poem for you.”

“A PO-em isn’t a SONG!”

“It’s like a song.”

“O-KAY, o-kay. I’ll listen to your po-em. Po-em.”

“Well, don’t JUST listen. I want you to look out at the trees and the grass and the sky. It will be better that way.”

Larissa nodded, knocking the back of her head against Paris’ chest.

“Maybe you can help me? Pick up my stick. Tap on it like this, to keep the timing right. Yep, like that.”

Okay. A poem:

Poet! cried the Muse, Clouds threaten our day;

Rescue it with verse; keep the rain away.

A second first light ‘fore a too soon dark—

Create it, poet: be the midday lark.

My song could fly, but it’s one I won’t sing;

To unhearing sky, it’s on leaden wing.

Poet, you insult me with modesty.

Can I not command your art with my plea?

That gray heavens were once azure at all,

That Abakan widens, rises, and falls

That Taiga lives not for man or for muse

Means that among its moods, we cannot choose.

Even had white nights once lit all my days,

They’d be but Cytherean shadow plays.

So mourn not Apollo’s waning gold tide:

All the world fades before your blue eyes.

When birches’ leaves, green to crimson, give way

Song would only flatter Nature’s decay.

Evergreen goldthread too is diminished

As seasons change: once in bloom, now finished.

Your blues and your auburn do not wither.

In both gale force song and quiet whisper,

To singular beauty, a unique truth,

Can I write at all: I compose for you.

My Poet, sang the Muse, these words will do.

As he recited, he could feel Larissa growing calmer, quieter, more listless. She managed to keep tapping until the last stanza, where Paris noticed the stick slide out of her hands.

In the distance, birdsong was once again audible. As if he had an audience of more than one, and it approved.

“Paris, Paris” Larissa sleepily mumbled “whazgolgreen whazabakan, Paris”

“Goldthread is a flower. Abakan is a river.”

“WhereAbakanParis”

“It’s in Russia.”

She was quiet now but not quite asleep.

“ParisParis,” she said. “My eyzzur blue Paris. My eyzzur blue.”

“I know,” Paris said, gently taking the crown off of her head as she fell asleep.

Part II