#so may typos in this...anyways

[earthmoonz]

remade 2 of my oldest ocs in my current sim style and started feeling insane.

[megaerakles]

To Whom It May Concern

Tim couldn’t stay. 

No matter what Bruce had said when he caught Tim in the act of laying the paper trail to establish his Fake Uncle, no matter how long Dick had sobbed into the phone at him during an inordinately expensive long distance (read: off planet) phone call, no matter how much Alfred had been fussing over him and insisting it was no trouble at all to care for him since Tim’s scheme had been revealed and promptly foiled, it just didn’t change the fact that Tim couldn’t stay. Truthfully, the Wayne family’s apparent sudden burst of affection for him actually made this whole thing worse because somewhere along the way, without even trying, Tim had failed to keep things wholly professional between them and somehow tricked them into thinking he belonged in their family! 

He couldn’t let it stand. For the sake of Jason’s memory, for the sake of preserving the sanctity of the true Wayne family, he had to stop this… this absurdity of pretending that Tim belonged with them from continuing! Tim had to run. Tim had to vanish. It was the only way to make things right again. Sure, the thought of never seeing any of them again, the thought of being done with Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Barbara and everyone in his life he currently held dear once and for all made it feel as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest only to be shoved back down his throat to stop the flow of air into his body—but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, not nearly as much as they did. This would be for their own good. 

Tim was leaving, and it turned out to be easier than he thought it would be in the end. Not emotionally easier, but logistically easier. Bruce had been extra attentive lately, so he thought he’d have to fake an injury and get ‘benched’ so that they would lower their guard long enough for him to slip away. But by some divine stroke of luck, a new player had waltzed onto Gotham’s criminal scene not too long after Tim’s Fake Uncle plan fell through and started making threats against Batman and Robin. They had apparently freaked B out enough to prompt him to send Tim off to Titan’s Tower to ‘focus on his team for awhile’. Tim had accepted the command with the requisite amount of complaint, planted some fake texts to make it look like he’d actually communicated to his Team that he would be there, shoved everything from his guest room in the Manor that he couldn’t bear to part with into a duffel bag underneath a spare uniform, gave Bruce what only he knew was a more emotionally charged nod goodbye than usual, and then poof. Tim Drake was zapped out of the Batcave for the last time ever. 

He let himself have one night in the Tower. Partly to catch a few hours of sleep in a familiar and secure environment, but mostly so he could clean up his room for its next occupant, sweep his belongings and his person for any extra trackers, and repack his bag more efficiently. He also took the time to grab a spare backpack and fill it up with emergency rations. While he was taking plenty of cash, he didn’t want to risk having to go into stores with security cameras for a while, at least until he’d cleared a suitable distance from San Francisco proper as well as implemented the first of his many planned disguises. He didn’t think a bottle of cheap hair dye and some colored contacts would be enough to fool Oracle indefinitely, but if he was appropriately cautious it might keep her from getting a confirmation of his location long enough for the Bats to either get bored looking for him or to actually realize they were better off without him around. 

When the early rays of dawn started to bathe the sides of Titan’s Tower in ember colored light, he was off. He left behind seven trackers pulled from his clothes and bag and one more from behind his ear; he’d kept the one he noticed in his favorite pair of sneakers because it was a type that wouldn’t start transmitting data until the Bats actively started tracking it and he was hoping to find someone who wore his size at the bus station he could pay to wear them so he could throw them off for even longer. If all else failed, he would just toss them in an out of the way trash can. He had also left a letter of resignation for Batman that he’d whipped up based off of an online template, signed and sealed and awaiting discovery atop the pillow in his nearly empty dorm room (he had tried for something more personal, a longer note of explanation for Bruce about why he couldn’t stay despite being asked, but—the words just wouldn’t come, and he’d been running out of time). His bag was heavy, courtesy of all of the extra supplies he’d grabbed in anticipation of having to evade not only Batman’s team but the rest of the Justice League. His heart was heavy, courtesy of emotional baggage that he wished was as easy to unpack as his actual bags would be when he finally found somewhere to settle. 

He boarded the first bus he saw after he’d gone a few blocks and took a seat towards the back, where he leaned against the window and stared back at the iconic giant T that he used to belong in, however briefly, until it disappeared from sight. And just like that, Tim Drake’s life as Robin was over. 

—

To Whom It May Concern:

This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately. 

Thank you so much for the opportunity to work with you all for the past three years. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the team and appreciated the opportunity to learn about vigilantism and hone my detective skills. I’m excited to take these skills with me as I pursue the next step of my career.

During the past two weeks, I have done everything possible to wrap up any ongoing cases and leave no unfinished business. The Robin suit as well as my spare have been cleaned and placed in the armory of Titan’s Tower along with any gear I have been issued. 

I wish Batman and team the best, but am afraid I will be out of contact for the foreseeable future. 

Sincerely, 

T. J. Drake

—

Red Hood stalked into Titan’s Tower with all the grace of a wildcat closing in on its prey, his vicious smirk hidden by his helmet, his unauthorized entrance hidden by virtue of the heroes’ own stupidity in failing to remove his codes from the database. Seriously—he’d thought gaining entry into their so-called fortress would be the hardest part of this little trip, and had only tried his access codes for the sake of checking the most stupidly obvious Plan A off his list! For them to work, to realize that there was nothing truly separating the precious sidekicks from the wrath of a vengeance minded crime lord, well… it sure made the message he was about to send feel all the more poignant. 

He had come equipped to subdue an entire horde of Teeny Titans without hurting them (much), but to his surprise, the tower was empty of kid sidekicks despite Robin having been sent to work with his team yesterday afternoon, a fact Jason had gleaned last night from listening to the mind numbing chatter of Nightwing being bored on a stakeout and wanting to chat with anyone over the comms Jason had hacked into. Which he’d done in order to better plan his aggressive takeover of Crime Alley, not because he missed hearing his family’s voices. Nope. 

(Since coming back to Gotham, it had been more difficult than he anticipated to stick to the plan when some part of his mind still stubbornly clung to those foolish, childhood dreams of belonging and family and a father who gave a shit and things like that, and kept popping up with annoying questions like ‘what if he revealed his identity to Dick or Alfred or someone just to see if maybe Talia had been right and they’d want him back after all. Clearly, the existence of a new Robin meant that they’d never really given a damn about him, so he was going to go through with this thing, just watch him.)

Truly this had to be fate, because the path to Robin was practically unfolding before him with no barriers. All that was left to do was find where in this gigantic clubhouse the itty little birdie was nesting. Jason tried the common room first. Then the kitchen. Then the rec room. And then the training floor. And the med bay. And then the armory, where he found Robin’s suit, but no actual Robin. He supposed the next place to check would be Robin’s bedroom, because even though it was well past eleven, Drake was a teenager and could conceivably be sleeping in, especially since there was no Alfred around to rouse him at a reasonable hour. Luckily, the doors on the floor with sleeping quarters were all clearly marked with either the name or symbol of the person it belonged to, so it was easy enough to find the one with that all too familiar stylized ‘R’. Jason paused to take a steadying breath before gritting his teeth and deciding to really make an entrance by kicking down the door. 

…To an empty bedroom. Like, not just devoid of Tim Drake, but also devoid of books, trinkets, photos, decoration, clothes, dishes, mess, et cetera, et cetera. It looked as clean and sterile as a hotel room, and if Jason hadn’t literally just seen Robin’s insignia on the door he would think he’d entered an unassigned room by mistake. He frowned and yanked off his helmet, as if looking with his own two eyes would suddenly change the scene, but no. Nothing. He strode into the room and yanked open the closet—empty. He walked over to the desk and yanked open the top drawer—empty. He yanked open the bottom drawer, and mostly empty except for—wait, was that a pile of deactivated Bat trackers? Fucking bizarre. When he stood up, he glanced around again, and this time something on the bed caught his eye. It had been easy to miss against the white pillowcase, but there was an envelope tucked up against the pillow. With a scowl, he stalked over and grabbed it. 

When Jason flipped it over, he noted that it was addressed to Batman, but decided that since he was a crime lord now he didn’t have to care about something as trivial as opening someone else’s mail. He didn't want to take off his gloves and risk leaving prints on anything, so he pulled out a dagger and used it to slice open the envelope. As he flipped it over to dump its contents on the desk, he had the fleeting thought that he probably should have put back on his mask in case this had been some villain’s ploy to poison Batman, but luckily all that fell out was a single sheet of printer paper folded into thirds. 

This he was careful not to damage as he unfolded it. It wasn’t a long note, just a few small paragraphs, so it was quick enough to read: To whom it may concern. This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately… 

Jason dropped the letter and took a step back, staring at the innocuous piece of paper with wide eyes and racing thoughts. Robin had—Drake wasn’t—Timothy—the kid, he was quitting? Leaving? Gone? 

It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Except Robin shouldn’t have had any way of knowing Red Hood would be able to track him all the way to Titan’s Tower so why would he have set a trap for him in the first place? A trap for someone else, then? If it was, it was really, really stupid of him because the kid had signed his resignation letter from Robin with his actual name, and surely he wouldn’t have made it this far if he were that careless with his identity. So, it was either a very bad trap, or not a trap at all. And if it was not a trap at all, then… 

Then Robin had… resigned. Which, ok, Jason’s stated goal coming into this thing was to get Tim Drake to stop being Robin. So he should be happy about this, right? Except he’d not gotten to toss the kid around and work out his aggression at all so there was no satisfaction in it. Also, the timing was fucking obnoxious. Go figure that the very day he decides to do something about his replacement, the kid decides to peace out of the Gotham vigilante scene and… and go… 

… Somewhere. Jason had no idea where Tim Drake would go if he were no longer Robin. Given how he’d waited until he was alone and then left the note to be found on the other side of the country, Jason had a sneaking suspicion that returning to Gotham was currently off the table. The letter had said he would be ‘out of contact’ for the foreseeable future; Jason could read between the lines enough to figure out that meant he was running away. 

—Which, fuck. Another Robin was running away from Batman because of… well, Jason didn’t know what this kid’s issue with B was, but there were plenty of potential flaws in the man to choose from so Jason was going to play it safe and assume it was something Bruce did. Clearly, the man could never learn. And now, this poor dumb Robin was going to pay the price! Jason was more than familiar with the number of horrors that awaited kids who ended up on their own. He could starve; he could freeze to death; he could catch some disease like the flu, or get cut on a rusty nail and get tetanus, and then die from it because he couldn’t access medical treatment. He could get mugged, or harassed by cops, or snatched up by traffickers, or—

And fine; Jason himself had meant to hurt him. But that had been for ideological purposes, to prove a point about putting children in danger and not taking good enough care of them and stuff. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt him that badly, just bad enough to freak out Bruce a bit. But Jason was also the Red Hood, and the Red Hood’s mission was to do what was necessary to stop awful shit from happening to vulnerable kids. And this stupid, stupid letter was apparently enough to abruptly transfer Timothy Drake into that category in his head. 

Everything Jason had heard about the kid said he was smart, and the timing of his disappearance pointed to some thoughtful planning on his part. Jason could imagine that the little shit had some sort of plan in place to evade Batman’s attempts to locate him, and he probably could manage to run without getting caught by Bruce and the Gotham team for a while. Heck, the kid probably had strategies to get away from most if not all of the Justice League members, since B was sure to call in favors once he got frantic enough about the little bird. But one thing the kid likely did not plan for was being pursued by him. Ex-Robin, currently a crime lord, League of Assassins connections, and a bone to pick with Timothy specifically? (He ran away from home and left a fucking resignation letter about it? Does he not realize what that would do to Dick, to Alfred, to Bruce—)

After stuffing the letter into his pocket, Jason put back on his helmet and stalked out of Titans Tower as silently as he’d arrived, this time with a new yet equally furious purpose sharpening his steps. Sucked to be Timothy Drake, he thought, because the Red Hood got his message and he was officially concerned. 

[good-beanswrites]

Why are there so many typooooooos

[fluffypotatey]

thinking about how mei could contain the samadhi fire again. like yeah sure it could just be bc of her dragon ancestry like nezha said (its like pokemon logic, dragon type beats fire type). but also what if it's not. what if it's some other reason.

in the s4 openings, mei takes a way more prominent role than she did in the s1-s3 openings, fighting alongside mk. almost like she's gonna have a bigger role in this whole arc or something. mei contained the uncontainable flame and was able to use and withstand it without destroying the world. and now the jade emperor's power doesn't have a vessel, and nezha's seal won't hold forever. are u picking up what im putting down (<- high on copium)

GOOD MORNING AND WELCOME TO "Fluffy's Long Answer Responses," AND TODAY WE WILL BEGIN WITH THIS BEAUTIFUL ONE RIGHT HERE :)

Mei and the Samadhi Fire

aka, something i think about a lot & am hoping to see her wield once more T^T

so, I honestly will be super disappointed if the reason why we don't see the Samadhi Fire anymore is because her dragon abilities "canceled out" the fire (which would diminish the Grand Power™️ of the fire since it's supposed to be an end all be all power that can and will extinguish reality).

HOWEVER! while reading the lmk wiki (something i tend to do if i want to make sure i'm not just pulling stuff out of my ass for nothing) i found this:

The Rings of Samadhi are three special rings that were created by Tang Sanzang to seal away the Samadhi Fire. After the Samadhi Fire was reforged, the rings often acted as Mei's weapon of choice, being one of the ways she can utilize the Samadhi Fire

and

Pyrokinesis - After Season 3, Mei was able to create common green flames, which succeeded her powers to control the Samadhi Fire, which she, according to Master Subodhi, could no longer wield

and

Samadhi Fire - At first, Mei had difficulty controlling the fire because of her fear of hurting someone with it. In "Embrace Your Destiny", Mei eventually learned how to surpass her doubts about controlling the Samadhi Fire by being trained by Red Son, and used it to destroy Lady Bone Demon. Because of her dragon heritage, Mei can't be harmed by the fire, but still has to control it through controlling her emotions

so....what the fuck is this?

i am so glad you asked, deary >:)

we were already made aware that Mei's miraculous ability to avoid earning irreplaceable burn scars from the reality breaking fire is no thanks to her dragon heritage despite being mortal. this is most likely why Ao Lie was able to withstand the flames that first time thanks to his scales, BUT dragon scales can only do so much. the fire will still fight against it's vessel (host? body?) unless they are able to commune with it and "embrace" the fires.

as Red Son said, Mei is "strong enough to contain" the fire, but with training and meditation, she could be able to wield it. it's similar but also different to when Mei first got her dragon sword. even without its special abilities, anybody could pick up the sword and claim it as their own, BUT only a chosen few are deemed "worthy" of fully wielding the sword in it purposes (protecting one's family and home).

so, yeah, thank you dragon ancestry for preventing mei from burning herself and the wold into a crisp. the rest of what Mei does, that's all her. and i want to focus on something else the wiki says: "the rings often acted as Mei's weapon of choice, being one of the ways she can utilize the Samadhi Fire."

hey what the fuck????

AYO???? EMBRACE YOUR DESTINY WTF?????

YOU'RE JUST GONNA DROP THAT AND NEVER COME BACK TO IT???? I THINK THE FUCK NOT!

*coughs* anyway....where was i?

right, so, in helping Mei wield the fire (because i'm assuming just raw-dogging it would be suicidal for any beginner trying to use the Samadhi Fire), she converts their original purpose of containing (since they are no longer the ones that need to hold on to it) and reverse engineers them to help her current the fires to her will???

at least that's what it looks like to me. also, lmk we should absolutely bring this back. Mei with the 3 rings hovering over her whenever she summons the flames. can you hear me lmk, are you listening, can you hear me breathing down your necks as i plead-

but then, after s3....it's like the fire left her??? or is more dormant than before. HOWEVER (i love this word btw) as @gumy-shark said, Mei shows up in the lmk intro more often. so, let's do a comparison, yeah? of s3 and s4's intro (just to show how Mei is being inserted into a more prominent role in the intro itself starting now lol)

ok, ignoring the beautiful paused piece of MK's smushed face, these 2 pictures occur at the same place in their intros. MK flying into the TEA car, and MK and Mei flying into an ancient Chinese towers while in the scroll. and in the next two,

their placement ALSO happens at the same time (also the lighting is very similar....huh, i wonder why?). what do we notice? no Mei on the left side of the first pair, and no MK on the left side of the second pair. just MK, our lovely main character (also, has anyone else gotten a kick out of MK being a letter away from MC? no? just me....that's fair) and just Mei, our beloved dragon girl. because while Mei's story was also important in s3, the main plot focused on MK trying to regain his powers and defeat LBD. HOWEVER, in s4, we have both Mei and MK in the scroll trying to save their friends, and when they split up, BOTH characters meet someone important to their past (Subodhi being swk's mentor so like MK's mentor grandpa??? and Mei meeting her literal ancestor, Ao Lie) and BOTH come to learn something new about themselves.

HOWEVER >:) while Mei's encounter leaves her more self-assured and solid about her place and identity, MK's encounter leave shim with more questions, some denial, trauma, and the works (hooray!)

anyway, what can this tell us about the upcoming season? well, firstly, i believe Gumy is right! this is sort of like lmk's "subtle" way of showing that Mei's role will become more important to the narrative. they're telling us, "hey, don't forget about her. don't ignore her storyline just yet." and yeah, we should not :)

we still don't know the whole story on why Mei doesn't wield the Samadhi Fire in s4 (is she scared of it? did she decide it was better to only train and meditate with it? is she even aware that she can still use it? or did she give the 3 rings (now her rings bc she reconfigured them) to Nezha for safe keeping and hope for the best? WE DON'T KNOW!) and that is a pretty significant event to just ignore.

like, yeah, sure, it's brought up by Master Subodhi but all he says is, "as someone who once wielded the Samadhi Fire," WHICH GIVES ME NOTHING! he also mentions that Mei has the potential to be even powerful if she just took a minute to think before letting her impulses rule her, but i'm not mad over that. but, that does give the hope that Mei in the following season will have an arc where she attempts to slow herself down and think about the consequences (and she's done it before!! her actually thinking about how "Wukong knew the risks")

so yeah, i am in agreement. and my theory is, at the end of s5 is when she "reawakens"/summons the Fire once again, now that she is more confident in her powers and strengths and takes the time to consider her options on how to defeat something big (i wonder who 👀)

[mtvunplugged1996]

MANNNN I'm going through my old screenshots and I found some of my old Tumblr themes..... compared to my new ones they make me feel so old.....

[disdaidal]

Sometimes I really kind of envy you native English speakers who make writing and posting fics seem so fucking easy. With near perfect grammar and hardly any typos. Or those of you who are capable of writing & updating your fics whenever the muse hits you just right... and not like, once in six months. Actually, try two years lol.

Whereas me, a non-native speaker, who occasionally struggles even with basic English grammar:

I'm fine. Totally.

[transfemkristophgavin]

something very small across both 3d games that nevertheless greatly annoys me is how apollo and athena's character themes are handled. i am definitely reading into this too much but i have also spent too long typing all of this so read my words boy

a new era begins! in aa4 is a theme that, whilst very much derived from phoenix (and mia's) original objection! motif in the first trilogy, still has a considerably different feel to it that is achieved by making the core refrain/loop of music that defines the objection! motif VERY subdued; it's almost drowned out by the other instruments in the track. this reflects how whilst it's still the same action within the context of the game's mechanics, it's being performed by an entirely new person with different ideals, motivations and methods to phoenix and mia, thus the end result is a very different take on the motif

however, in aa5, a new era begins! as a whole ended up getting recycled into apollo's out-of-court character theme, i'm fine! - objection! motif and all - which gives the impression that during development there wasn't a lot of consideration given to his individuality as a character. the same goes for athena and her character theme, let's do this!. obviously for their actual objection themes i dont mind the motif being used, but it feels like a missed opportunity to not focus on the unique parts of a new era begins! and courtroom revolutionnaire, elaborate on those aspects and turn them into wholly unique sounds for apollo and athena's character themes. most important of all would be ensuring that they DON'T reuse the objection! motif. in apollo's case with i'm fine! it feels especially egregious because it goes directly against the tone and intention of the original a new era begins! by EMPHASISING the objection! motif and making it the core focus of the track

i know in the wider scope of things this is such a small detail - i don't even necessarily dislike these tracks - and i'm aware expecting the team to dedicate the resources to creating two unique songs for three entire characters each across multiple games is asking too much, but regardless i also think it's at least a bit emblematic of how phoenix, apollo and athena were handled in relation to each other in the 3d games and how ultimately apollo and athena are both left feeling somewhat deriative of phoenix. parallels (both in-universe/textually and on a meta level) between the three are not a bad thing but it does feels like apollo and athena struggle to establish their own unique identities at times without the writers doing something insanely drastic, and the way their themes are ultimately derived from phoenix's, to me, contributes to this feeling

it's just especially a shame because the team proved that they were fully capable of getting it right with edgeworth's objection theme in aai1; it utilises the objection motif but it ALSO incorporates his character theme, great revival/triumphant return, fairly extensively, and it's one of my favourite objection themes precisely because every time the part with the motif hits i lose my mind. granted in that case they were working backwards but like, the idea is present and all that

[softgaycontent]

migraine level: stupid

[findstenicht]

hm. already regret signing up for more hours in february my time management skills are just. straight up nonexistent, i'll be real

[mockiery]

<3 I was wondering.... are you gonna do another fic? I loved grounding.

Do you think Jake is a horrible flirt? I bet he flirts with Layla and thinks Marc getting protective of her is funny. Plus she blushes horribly. She isnt used to the suave cool flirtations.

thank you!! and i am! the fic i'm working on now is marc and steven focused and i feel like i need to finish it before i move on to more jake and layla stuff. its all the same post-canon continuity as "grounding" and "carving" and actually take place between them, so i feel like i need that baseline before i continue past "carving" in the whole course of events i have going.

In short, yeah, Jake can be a bit of a flirt. He goes out and socializes in ways Marc and Steven would not. In my Aroace Jake (which has a lil treat at the end you might like <3) and Jake and Music hc’s/metas/rants, I mention as much. He’s got a communal connection in ways Marc and Steven don’t. On top of his cab-driving work in meeting people constantly, he'd go to a bar, a dance club, a diner (eyes emoji), etc. and be a face among the masses, big passing ships in the night energy. Jake doesn't let himself have "real", long-lasting relationships with those around him (with exception to Gena and her kids at this point, though who can blame him? He tells himself it’s for the diner food and the good coffee, but it’s for Gena’s and her boys’ companionship more than anything), but he does get to be someone's late-night (one-night-only) friend and companion. It's anonymous, almost. Temporary, no lasting consequences. 

I see Jake as aroace, and for him, flirting is just another tool in the arsenal of social skills he’s cultivated. It’s often pretty fun too. While he’s a master of masking and socializing, I think he does have trouble picking up people’s social signals about romance especially, at times. Practically, the difference between fun, playful banter between friends and a good portion of romantically-and/or-sexually-charged banter (i.e. flirting) is pretty slight. 

After a night trading jokes and challenging conversation, tearing up the dance floor together with someone(s) I could see someone making a move and/or inviting Jake home and it surprising him, more in the early days of having a night life of his own than later on. He does perfectly well when someone’s attraction is made clear and explicit in their words, but he’s had to learn to anticipate the possibility of someone’s attraction even if not explicitly stated. 

That’s all more about how Jake responds to flirting, but Jake himself? He lives for the banter, the back-and-forth, the game of it. He’s not going to initiate the flirt, but if someone sends a clear cue to do so? He’s down. Most of the time, anyway. Jake banters and jokes around with anyone he meets, and he takes as much enjoyment in the platonic banter as he does the romantic. It’s a game, and he’s strategic, thoughtful. He’s piecing together the puzzle of this other person, seeing how they respond and what’ll make them laugh, what’ll make them playfully nonreceptive versus genuinely nonreceptive. Flowery language, suave confidence, cheesy lines, compliments, subtle innuendo, jokes, sharing stories, talking life, physical closeness, dancing, intensity, gentleness, or just. Him being genuinely himself, not trying to perform the socialization.

It’s when nothing else has satisfied the other player in this game that he lets go of the performance. And sometimes, that’s what pulls people in the most. 

I think when people make a move to be physical with him, to invite him home, I think sometimes he accepts. It’s more game, more back-and-forth, more dancing, and, above all, it’s fun. 

He never stays the night, never sleeps over. His companion(s) for the night is that: for the night. And they know it. Jake may perform, but he doesn’t lie or mislead. The performance is him, heightened, more than it is someone else. 

Now, finally, to Layla. Jake doesn’t flirt with Layla. At least not for a long time. In the early days of being known to and well-into being *accepted* by Marc and Steven, he’s incredibly careful in how he interacts with Layla. Beyond the occasional half-irritated “hermosa”, Jake wouldn’t dare. He’s not going to cross that line. Layla isn’t his. She isn’t anyone’s, but she certainly isn’t his. They didn’t have a relationship, even if he’d pretended to be Marc around her on occasion in the past. That still wasn’t for him. Marc and now Steven's relationships with her are their own. Jake is so used to and inclined to try and stay out of their way, of their lives, of course he’s going to keep his distance. It doesn’t occur to him that she’d want to get to know him, who he is. Beyond what he does for his brothers. But him.

It takes time, but eventually, they become legitimate friends. It doesn’t start with flirting, it starts with Jake stating compliments of her as fact. Because they are, of course. Just observations. Maybe someone disrespects her or belittles her, and he gets angry, of course, but he goes off about how fucking wrong this hijo de puta is, that she’s a genius and, frankly, a saint for not kicking the bastards ass then and there, that they’re fucking lucky to have been in the same room as her, much less have the privilege of her competency and talent brought to their work, I can’t fucking believe this idiota, you’re too fucking good to deal with this shit. Mierda. Fuck.

And Layla is just staring at him, this being the most affection he’s ever shown her. A little more time, more growing comfortable in their dynamic as a system and with Layla, perhaps they’re about to have a night out, maybe for a mission, where they need to dress up, and Jake’s taking lead on recon, and he sees her all done up and, unlike Marc’s stunted speechlessness turned physical affection, Steven’s astonished showers of compliments, Jake? Jake tells it like it is. This ain’t gonna work. 

Why? 

You’re gonna fucking kill everyone in this joint when we step through the door. 

Cue Layla’s confused, surprised look. 

One look at you and every poor bastard in there’s heart is gonna stop. Can’t get intel if you’ve dropped all the sources by being so fucking gorgeous, hermosa. 

Layla’s face heats up immediately and she laughs, taking his arm in hers as they head out. 

From the back of their mind, Jake hears, Kinda cheesy, man. 

And then, I dunno, Marc, I thought it was lovely. And it’s not like he’s wrong. 

No, I know, trust me. She’s… she’s something. 

You should be a poet, jefe. 

Shut up.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 195

Adjective: Cloistered

Noun: Crown

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Cloistered: having or enclosed by a cloister, as in a monastery; kept away from the outside world; sheltered

Crown: a circular ornamental headdress worn by a monarch as a symbol of authority, usually made of or decorated with precious metals and jewels; the reigning monarch, representing a country's government; an ornament, emblem, or badge shaped like a crown; a wreath of leaves or flowers, especially that worn as an emblem of victory in ancient Greece or Rome; an award or distinction gained by a victory or achievement, especially in sports; the top or highest part of something; the top part of a person's head or a hat; the part of a plant just above and below the ground from which the roots and shoots branch out; the upper branching or spreading part of a tree or other plant; the upper part of a cut gem, above the girdle; the point of an anchor at which the arms reach the shaft; the part of a tooth projecting from the gum; an artificial replacement or covering for the upper part of a tooth; a British coin with a face value of five shillings or 25 pence, now minted only for commemorative purposes; a foreign coin with a name meaning ‘crown,’ especially the krona or krone; a paper size, now standardized at 384 × 504 mm; a book size, now standardized at 186 × 123 mm; a book size, now standardized at 246 × 189 mm

[knightowlet]

Normally I don’t remember my dreams, but I had one recently that keeps making me smile. It started in a pitch black room, then suddenly a spotlight appears over a Nintendo switch, and an announcer voice speaks from the ether, like the voice of god himself introducing this piece of fine machinery as

“LOBTER”

And then I woke up

[alloganes]

A THRONE BORNE OF CARNAGE AND WAR.  ✮ IN REGARDS TO THE TRAVELER: A CANON DIVERGENCY GUIDE.

EONS AGO,   THERE WERE THE SEVEN DRAGON SOVEREIGNS    /    THEN,   THERE WAS THE USURPER.    the usurper engaged in a long,   tedious war against the sovereigns,   insistent on standing as the victor    —    a task they succeeded in,   weary as they were by the end of it.    the sovereigns retreated elsewhere,   terrified that they would be further subjugated and doomed to death.    thus,   they hid,   with many continuing to fade into obscurity even when the god’s reign was no more.    with the sovereigns gone,   the usurper gets to work:    it reshapes the heavens and earth and creates a new age of prosperity for humanity.    this age lasts for eons and humanity thrives under their heavenly reign.    however,   a new threat descends from the stars and before they know it,   their visitor would become their doom.    although history writes the first usurper’s fate to be either victorious or unknown,   the truth is that they were slaughtered.    their corpse is cast out to the stars they hailed from,   left to rot and fester in the cold expanse.    however,   a miracle occurs:    life is born from the dead.    it’s bloodied form splits into two and gains consciousness,   but neither of them can remember their true origins.    with no origin to speak of,   these two travel the expanse of the stars,   witnessing birth and destruction and good and evil.    despite the traumas they suffer,   the dead gods have each other.    

one day,   one of the siblings receives a response from a summoning,   and they head to the world that answered it.    one of the siblings had not yet awakened when they arrived,   and thus,   the other went to explore the world    —    only to find a civilization tearing at the seams. terrified,   the twins try to leave the world,   but they are barred by the sustainer of the heavenly principles.    although the fight is bloody and long,   the sustainer apprehends one of the twins and then the other.    the fate of one twin is the mystery of five hundred years.    as for the other,   it is cast down from the skies and robbed of it’s devices,   forced to withstand five hundred years of sleep and isolation beneath the frigid depths of the dark sea.    after five millennia had past,   the other twin arises and begins looking for their kindred,   searching everywhere and becoming entangled in the cycle they birthed.    although they are currently unknown to their status as primordial god reborn,   they will discover their sins in due time,   and the closer they reach to the truth,   the closer they come to reclaiming the throne they built.

( OR PERHAPS,   THEY WILL DESTROY IT FOR GOOD. )

› FIRST AND FOREMOST, THE PRIMORDIAL ONE AND SOL ARE ONE IN THE SAME. similar to the way the four shades were borne from the primordial one, the primordial one’s corpse split into two, thus creating the twins. as of the end of the fontaine story quest, sol is not aware of this fact    —    however, they have begun to experience dreams from their past life. these dreams started when it traveled into enkanomiya, but have since grown in frequency since the sumeru archon quests. these dreams are always vague and do not show the whole picture, but sol has the faint feeling that these are, indeed, memories. for better understanding, sol’s situation is very similar to kadaj and other remnants of sephiroth in advent children, however, they do not just embody the primordial one’s will: they are the primordial one.

› THE REASON WHY SOL AND THEIR SIBLING WERE APPREHENDED WAS BECAUSE OF THEIR CONNECTION TO THE PRIMORDIAL ONE. i think when the twins landed on teyvat, celestia and the heavenly principles (a.k.a the second throne who had usurped phanes’ throne) grew fearful that the twins would grow aware of their true identity and try to dismantle everything they had built since the primordial one’s absence.

› HARDLY ANYBODY KNOWS IF PHANES OR THE SECOND THRONE WON THE WAR. this is especially true for the enkanomiyans, who were trapped underground and therefore could not have seen the true circumstances after their war. however, considering that phanes’ unified civilization fell after the war and divided into different nations, this could indicate that phanes was defeated. for my canon, phanes was defeated, but history would not reflect this fact. many history books write of phanes’ victory or keep the history of the war vague. this was primarily to solidify the second throne’s place as victor and to keep anyone from knowing the truth about what happened to phanes. for all intensive purposes, the second throne masquerades as the first god to ever grace teyvat.

› EVER SINCE THEIR DESCENT, THE PEOPLE OF TEYVAT HAVE GROWN TO TRUST SOL. however, this is not any ordinary trust: it is faith. faith, just like how you would regard the god of your land. despite their best efforts to appear and act human, word gets around, and people speak of the traveler that never dies, that combats against horrors from the sea, who controls the elements and always comes out alive. it is clear they are not human, and some people have begun to proclaim them as a god. on the other, there are people who do not like this. some believe their ‘imitation’ of godhood to be close to be blasphemy and others fear them because they are clearly not human. sol does not like any of these positive or negative sentiments. it does not want to be another god to this land, not after what they’ve learned about their gods and their wrath.

› SOL’S VIEW ON THE GODS IS NOTHING POSITIVE, BUT IT’S NOT NEGATIVE EITHER. learning about khaenri’ah ruined all hope that they had for the gods and they developed further resentment for all who let these people die and suffer when they witnessed it with their own eyes in the caribert quest. not to mention, the gods have wronged them just in the way the fatui have: they’ve been deceived, attacked, and have had information withheld. frankly, the only gods sol has come to trust or regard in a positive light is nahida and furina because of how much they’ve sacrificed. it is still on the fence about venti given it does not know the full extent of his involvement in the cataclysm. they struggle with their feelings on zhongli given they had helped save his entire nation yet he could not give them further information about khaenri’ah, which they partially understand because of his contract, but it still hurts all the same. they hold similar feelings to the raiden shogun and ei considering her tyranny and encounters with death by her blade.

› SOL CANNOT DIE. at least, not easily. they can die temporarily when dealt a fatal blow such as blunt force trauma to the head, vital organs being pierced by a sword, blood loss, et cetera. however, they always come back. their lacerated wounds stitch together, their blood flows back to their body, and their bones repair spontaneously. additionally, they very rarely scar from these wounds. this being said, there are forces out there that can limit the speed of their healing factor. for example: celestial and abyssal beings. all wounds they receive from enemies such as abyss lectors, gods, and so on will leave scars and will require proper medical attention. the most notable of these scars are various blade wounds that tartaglia left during their first battle and the lichtenberg fragments that ei left during their first battle in the plane of euthymia. furthermore, the color of sol’s blood also gives away their inhumanity considering it is gold.

› SOL WILL EVENTUALLY ASCEND TO GODHOOD AND REGAIN ALL OF THEIR MEMORIES AS THE PRIMORDIAL ONE. phanes’ conscious and memories will eventually be restored, however, sol’s conscious and memories will remain, too. given sol’s memories and experiences on teyvat, i doubt they will want to kill the second throne and merely reclaim the throne they created, especially since they built that throne from bloodshed. as stated previously: sol does not want to be another god to the land. the people of teyvat deserve better than another god’s wrath. i’m still on the fence of whether or not sol dies by the end of their storyline, but it’d feel somewhat poetic. they created this cycle of destruction. they will be the one to end it.

› THEY’RE CONSTANTLY STRUGGLING WITH THEIR OWN MORALITY. sol’s kindness was born from all of the horrific things they’ve witnessed in their life time, all of which they have no choice but to remember. however, as time crawls and their time in teyvat draws on, they undergo several changes. they become quieter, fatigued, but they always manage to go on despite becoming tired of being a savior. their whole journey has twisted from it’s original purpose: they originally explored teyvat for the sole purpose of finding their sibling, but they have since been forced to take up a new role. they have seen the trauma that khaenri’ahns were forced undergo. they have become angry and resentful towards the forces that allowed such a tragedy to happen and it has grown to a point where their own rage terrifies them. part of them wants to be wrathful and to succumb to every bit of resentment that festers within the expanse of their body, but they try to keep it all under moderation for the sake of other people. they’re tired and keeping their emotions under control takes so much strength and yet they cannot voice it to anyone, because who else could possibly understand them? ever since it’s sibling had refused to go with it in favor of a greater purpose, sol has felt utterly alone.

[pangolinheart]

Ship with... M'zhet Tia

[[First, I think we should all count ourselves lucky that I remembered who M'zhet Tia was. Second it was through re-familiarizing myself with his character for this that I finally realized M'zhet IS JUST CATBOY-IFIED RED XIII FINAL FANTASY VII OTL. I also told myself that this one would be way Shorter than the Cid one but... it's actually longer... I tried to edit it but I go]]

From the "Send Me a Character and I'll Describe a Ship Between Them and My OC" ask meme!

| Cid | M'zhet | Lahabrea

M’zhet broke the surface of the water with a gasp, thrashing wildly and flinging water in all directions as he struggled to right himself without losing his grip on his spear. His shaggy hair was plastered in dark streaks to his forehead, the longest bits falling in front of his eyes and obscuring his vision.

“Well you’re never going to catch anything like that!” His companion chided from the shore. He was thankful his back was to her so she couldn’t see the way his cheeks darkened.

“I almost had it!” He yelled back. Well, “almost” might have been charitable, but he was confident that she was far enough away that she wouldn’t have been able to see him miss the fish by a yalm. UGH! He just wanted to catch one fish. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?! He had watched her do it so many times. So. Many. Times.

He scowled down at the now empty water below him.

“Well, all of your splashing has probably scared the rest of the fish away, so why don’t you come back to shore and take a break?” She called.

He groaned in frustration but knew that she was probably right. He could detect no more movement in the crystal-clear depths of the Ruby Sea around him. Oh well. His arms were getting tired from all of the swimming and thrusting and throwing, anyway. Pushing his hair up and out of his face with the heel of his free hand, he turned and started the short swim back to the beach.

When he waded inland, he found Z’rhiki lying on her back in the sand, propped up on her elbows, sunning herself. She opened her eyes when she heard him slump down next to her.

“You were doing pretty well before you realized I was watching,” She commented with a knowing grin that made him bristle with embarrassment.

“My arms were getting tired!”

“Well, you were out there for a long time.” She agreed. He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he simply sat there, catching his breath. When he didn’t speak again, she shoved herself upwards into a sitting position, folding her legs in front of her. “You don’t need to try so hard to impress people,” She said, voice softer than before. Or maybe he was imagining that.

Water dripped from his hair to his face, and he scrubbed it away with the back of his hand. “Well-“ He hesitated. His face felt hot, though not from the sun beating down on them. “Well, what am I supposed to do if I want to impress someone, then?” He blurted out the words slightly too quickly for them to sound casual like he had intended.

She stifled a giggle with the back of her hand – thankfully not a mocking one.

“Well, I can’t say I would recommend spearfishing.”

He groaned and let his upper body fall backwards into the sand. “We can’t all be good at everything, you know?”

She stretched one leg out and brought the other up to rest her arm on her knee. “I’m not good at everything,” She pointed out. “I’m good at spears, and I’m good at fishing. That’s only, like, two things.”

“Sure.” He could probably think of at least a dozen more things she was good at if he tried, but he decided to let it go.

Why did she even invite me here?

The question had been on his mind since… well, since she had invited him. She was the bloody Warrior of Light and he was just… M’zhet Tia, weakest member of the M Tribe. Future Nunh, he corrected himself. His name might not command much respect now, but someday it would! Why shouldn’t the Warrior of Light invite him personally to join her on her Eastern Sojourn?

Because she probably thinks I’m pathetic, the treacherous voice in his head unhelpfully supplied. But no! He couldn’t think like that! She had asked him, hadn’t she? If only because, according to her, she had already asked M’naago and then J’ohlmyn, but neither could spare the time away from their duties. Still, the greatest hero in Eorzea must know lots of people, so if he thought about it that way, third choice wasn’t bad at all!

Though… thinking back to the night before, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly how much her plans had changed from when she had first invited M’naago….

“Oh, don’t sulk Zhet!” She swatted his arm playfully. “Since we’re taking a break anyway, why don’t we have a snack? I’m starving.”

Zhet was it, now?

Some food didn’t sound half bad, actually. He hadn’t realized how hungry he had gotten until she mentioned it, but now the sensation was impossible to ignore. He sat up, brushing off the sand clinging to the back of his head and ears. His gaze traveled to the large basket of fish sitting near the waterline, the product of her own efforts. “Are we going to cook up one of those?”

“What? Ew, no! Why would we do that?” She made a face and pretended to gag,

“Wait, you don’t like fish?” He blinked as his mind put the pieces together. Or rather, didn’t, because they didn’t fit together. “Then why did you want to go spearfishing?!”

She shrugged, evidently not bothered by the obvious contradiction. “Because it’s fun. Don’t worry, I was planning on giving the basket to the villagers in Isari, or maybe the Kojin, so these poor little fishies won’t have given their lives for nothing! You can have one if you want, I guess. But go somewhere way over there to cook it – I can’t stand the smell.”

“I-I see.” He didn’t. “Do they, uh, teach dragoons how to fish with their spears? Is that how you learned?”

A beat passed. Then she burst into a fit of laughter, not even trying to disguise it this time, He didn’t think the question was that stupid, but apparently she thought it was hilarious. “No, they don’t. That’s hysterical though! Imagine taking a bunch of Ishgardian dragoons with a spear up their ass on a trip to the ocean. Gods, I should ask Estinien that question. I bet he’d try to do it in his armor…” He watched as she composed herself, relapsed into giggles, and then finally caught her breath. “In all seriousness, though, I didn’t learn from the dragoons, or even the Lancer’s Guild in Gridania. My friend, Govv, taught me, actually. He’s a sahagin.”

“Of course he is.” M’zhet replied flatly. Why should he be surprised, at this point? He’d already met some of her other friends: Alpa, the ananta, Kabuto, the kojin, and several Namazu whose names he couldn’t quite remember. “You do keep strange company,”

“Well, I suppose you would know,” she teased, climbing to her feet. “In any case, I brought something way better than stinky old fish for us to eat.”

He watched curiously as she dragged over the large pack she had brought with them on the boat that ferried them from Kugane. She grappled with an item inside of it for a second or two before pulling out something large, round, and green. She presented it proudly. “Ta-da!”

“Um, what’s that?” He asked. Whatever it was, it wasn’t native to Gyr Abania. Of that, he could be certain. He’d foraged almost every edible plant that grew in the fringes – and a handful of non-edible ones early on, too.

Her gaze flicked to the green sphere, then back to him. “It’s a melon!” She declared with the same level of enthusiasm as before. “An Allagan melon, actually! I asked around in Kugane when I was buying supplies this morning, and the grocer said that these are a popular choice for picnics at the beach in the summer!”

M’zhet nodded. That made sense, he supposed. He regarded the melon’s smooth, unbroken exterior. “Did you bring a knife or something to cut it with?”

“Sort of. I did bring a knife.” She grinned, “But that’s the fun part! Apparently, when you’re at the beach you’re not supposed to cut it open. You just… hit it real hard! With a stick or something, Until it breaks open!”

“Really?” His ears perked up. That sounded like it could be fun. He may not be able to hit a fish swimming through the water, but a large, stationary melon seemed much easier. She tossed something in his direction – a smooth stick he had earlier in the day assumed was part of her spearfishing equipment – and he was barely able to raise his arm in time to prevent it from hitting him in the face.

“Sorry!” She had already moved on to spreading out a small square of tarp to place the melon on and didn’t seem particularly sorry. He clamored to his feet, trying awkwardly to wipe off the wet sand sticking to the backs of his legs, and joined her looking down at the melon.

She glanced up at him, grinned, and took a few steps back. “Well, have at it!”

“What? You want me to go first?”

“Well it won’t be any fun if I go first, now will it?” She snickered. “Besides, you said you wanted to impress someone, right? Maybe you could impress them by smashing open an Allagan melon with a stick!”

Is that really all that impressive? It seemed like a highly situational talent, at best. But maybe it was a good place to start. That was something he had learned from M’razh Nuhn’s lessons – start small and work your way up.

Alright! He could do this! Energized with his new resolve, he adjusted his grip on the stick. “You might want to stand a little further back,” He declared. “I wouldn’t want you to get covered in melon pieces with how hard I hit this thing!”

“Ooh, good idea!” She took a few more steps back. “You know, I was told you’re actually supposed to do this blindfolded, but that, um, seemed like a bad idea.”

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

“F-Finally!” M’zhet staggered, almost collapsing to his knees. If his arms had been tired before, they were burning now. Just what was that thing made of? And when did it get so hot out? The fatigue, though, could do nothing to dampen his spirits as he stood triumphantly in front of the partially caved-in melon. Z’rhiki was clapping for him from her place in the sand – she must have sat down at some point – having dutifully cheered him on even as his attempt stretched out into minutes. He could have sworn the thing kept moving …

“Congratulations!” She beamed at him, somehow managing to not sound at all patronizing. He bowed with a flourish. If she didn’t share his enthusiasm, he thought, she was certainly good at faking it. While he caught his breath she scrambled back to her bag and returned with a knife, which she used to cut free a large slab of melon. She offered it to him, but he waved her off.

“All yours, my lady!” He said with a wide grin. “If I could borrow your knife, though…”

She offered it to him, and he hacked off his own hunk of melon flesh. It was surprisingly… wet. And he hadn’t expected the inside to be so red.

Z’rhiki settled back into the sand and took a bite of her melon, looking out at the water. He followed her lead, biting into his own. He could see the appeal. It was sweet, but surprisingly refreshing after the day’s exertions.

He dropped himself into the sand next to her and took another bite. “You know,” He said, still chewing, “That was pretty good training, when you think about it! I should tell M’rahz about it!”

She turned her face towards him, and, though she still wore a small smile, he couldn’t help but feel that he had said the wrong thing. Something shifted behind her eyes, though he couldn’t put into words what it was.

They sat in silence for a while, eating and staring out into the waves, before she said, “This has been fun, right?” Her voice was as jovial as ever. Maybe the change in mood had been all in his head.

Fun? That was certainly one word for it. The past day and a half felt like a dream – every moment flowing smoothly into the next until he actually put any thought into it, at which point the memories collapsed into a jumble of disjointed scenes that didn’t quite make sense. Stepping off the boat onto the pier, his knees buckling at the sudden transition onto solid land. The shouting of dozens of stall minders and shopkeepers as they weaved through the streets. Her tucking a few strands of his hair back with nimble fingers, pinning a jade green ornament in place next to the rest of his braids, and declaring that it suited him with her face just a little too close to his. The hiss of food on a skillet, the smell of oil and spices, and the burn of alcohol in the back of his throat. The night illuminated by the orange glow of paper lanterns and the light pouring out of bars and restaurants. Her kissing him in the shadows just outside of all of that light, the feeling of the  cool stone of the wall against his back through his clothes. The deafening pounding of his own heart. Had that really happened? He had been drinking - maybe he had imagined it. Or maybe it was a drunken mistake. He had been drinking and so had she. He could taste it in her mouth, but the intensity in her eyes in the dim light of the inn room made him question just how intoxicated she really was. Or maybe he had imagined that, too.

“Yeah,” He said, finally catching up to his present self. “It’s been fun.”

He bit the last bit of watery flesh off the melon rind and leaned back into the sand once again. He closed his eyes and took a moment to bask in the feeling of sunlight warming his skin. Waves lapped at the rhythmically against the shore and somewhere in the distance he heard the caw of a circling gull. He sighed, contentedly. When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him again. The sun had drifted lower in the sky, Maybe that’s what made this smile look so bright.

“This is great,” He mused. “I almost don’t want to go back.”

“Almost?”

The question, as simple as it was, carried its own gravity. For some reason, it felt like the most important question he had ever been asked. For an instant, he was back in the inn room again, with her looking down at him with that same intensity, one of her hands tangled in his hair. He blinked and he was lying on the beach again. She was still watching him. The seconds seemed to yawn into a chasm between them until he had no idea how long the silence had lasted.

“Yeah,” He finally said. “Almost.

So, long story long, I feel like this ship is kind of a non-starter, for a couple of reasons. The big one is that M'zhet's life goal is to become the Nunh of the M Tribe. Even when he realizes he doesn't have to "reclaim" the title on behalf of his father, he still chooses to pursue his dream of becoming Nunh, just with a different reason and through less adversarial channels.

Z'rhiki, on the other hand, Does Not Vibe with Sunseeker culture. She has absolutely no desire to be part of a Seeker clan. She doesn't necessarily think the traditional Seeker family structure is bad for everyone, everywhere, all the time, but she knows it's not for her. She doesn't like the rigid gender roles or the real lack of agency "female" Sunseekers have in their own lives. They're all expected to reproduce with the tribe's Nunh (or, at least, that's how it seems) and raise children, and they don't even usually have a say in choosing the Nunh - he's either appointed by the previous Nunh or defeats the old Nunh in physical combat. You're essentially expected to have sex with whoever is strong enough to beat up your dad. And, while she's not at all opposed to some polyamory, the idea of sharing her appointed spouse with potentially dozens of other women doesn't really strike Rhiki as particularly romantic. It's just not for her.

So, even if they were to initiate some sort of romantic relationship, it would have a hard end-date of the day M'zhet finally deposes M'rahz. One or both might be able to delude themselves into thinking that it doesn't, but there's really no way around it. If they were to stay together, either Z'rhiki would have to join the M Tribe (or at least be okay with M'zhet fathering children with however many members of the M Tribe there are at that point) or M'zhet has to give up on the goal he's been working towards his whole life. Even if he would consider it, I'm not sure Rhiki would want to be the one to take that away from him - especially if she really does care about him.

With that in mind, it seems unlikely, but not impossible, that Z'rhiki and M'zhet would even end up in a relationship. Unlike with most NPCs, I don't think it's that unbelievable that M'zhet might have a romantic interest in Rhiki - he clearly has a crush on J'ohlmin, so female miqo'tes that are more competent than he is does seem like his type. And I don't think Rhiki dislikes M'zhet at all - he definitely has some endearing qualities: he's funny, he's dedicated, he's tenacious, and he doesn't let failure stand in his way. He's even willing to admit when he was wrong and change his behavior accordingly. That being said, I don't know that M'zhet really doesn't do that much to distinguish himself from all of the other generally-likeable people in Rhiki's life. He definitely experiences some character growth through finding out the truth about his father, but he's still kind of an average guy. His comic relief angle is played up a lot, which unfortunately doesn't paint him in the most flattering light. He's... a little dumb, but so is Rhiki so she can't really judge. He's good looking enough, but he probably wouldn't be Rhiki's first choice in potential datemates. I could see him maybe being a fun fling that somehow turns into something more, but that's the only real avenue for them to get together, because based on his behavior around J'ohlmin, he's not really the type to be up-front about his romantic interests. They also both have some abandonment issues that might complicate things a bit.

I think Rhiki is also a little wary of getting entangled with male Seekers in general. In her opinion, Nunh's don't need the attention and already have too much on their plates, and Tias tend to have... complexes. Even the ones that have left Seeker life behind might have some Feelings about the way things work in Seeker clans. So, that would also serve to put her off M'zhet a little, through no fault of his own.

I think they could have a fun time together for a little while, though! M'zhet seems like he's up for pretty much anything, and I think Rhiki could help him to build his self-confidence a little. And I'm sure a few extra sparring sessions with the Warrior of Light wouldn't go amiss!

I do like M'zhet, though! I'm not sure if we'll see more of him in the story at any point, but I hope we do!

Thanks for the ask! I hope you liked the "Drabble!"

[bionic-penis]

Maybe 12 hrs of Minecraft would fix me

[camillahex]

something i’ve been turning over in my head lately is that i don’t fully believe john gaius actually gave alecto her name.

i think with the way he only ever refers to her as A.L./Annabel Lee or First, (and now whenever i hear that i can’t help but think of gothicenjoyer‘s, post connecting john gaius’s assertion of the lyctors as children of alecto’s First to a rather disturbing passage in lolita of humbert calling dolores haze his Lolita the First) – which are names that attempt to put alecto in an obviously subjugative position under/in deference him – along with how angry he seems at anyone even mentioning the fact that she has a name that is not annabel lee, john does actually want her name to truly be annabel lee and hates the fact that it is alecto.

in his and harrow’s tea time, he tells harrow annabel lee is not alecto’s real name and says specifically “she had a real name, but I buried it with her.” to me statement has always had an undercurrent of anger to it, and when connected to the idea that alecto’s name was self-chosen, suggests the anger is directed at the name itself and he is trying to erase it to erase who she was/her autonomy/her actions that were not controlled by or in deference to him by burying her real name, and then constructing an image/story of alecto that he can control. he did the same story construction with the ending of the world in nona and wiping everyone’s memories of it, and he seems to have taken and changed the lyctors’ and their cavaliers’ old names and renamed them in his preference (see: U– and T– to ulysses and titania) all to inextricably connect them to him and make them dependent on him

a lot of people have taken the existence of alecto in greek mythology as the fury of anger to mean that john pointedly named her after her anger (or potentially his anger) at the destruction of the earth (or the abandonment of the earth by the trillionaires if it’s actually john’s rage). john has already said that anger was her mortal sin (and we have also seen that it seems to be his as well), but i think that who that anger is directed at and what it is in response to is also very important. we know from the nona’s final chapter and epilogue that alecto thinks of her body as ugly/disgusting/monstorous. this isn’t just because it’s a natural distase for a human body, as she is the embodiment of the earth, because, as nona, she thought harrow body was beautiful and wonderful and liked living in it. but yet alecto’s body, the body that john fashioned to be “perfect” (a literal barbie), is so revolting that in the epilogue from alecto’s point of view, she only ever calls it “the body” not her body.

all of this to say, i think alecto named herself after her own rage at john’s violation of her very existence by killing the earth (her), consuming the earth’s (her) soul, and then forcing the earth’s (her) soul into a “perfect” body constructed literally from his ribs and his subsequent binding of her to him in a position of subjugation that he would then go on to build an entire empire around

(and throughout the entirety of nona, john presented his story as an unavoidable downward spiral where he was always forced by outside actors to keep doubling down on his actions. it’s told with a very “what else could you do” attitude that tries to efface john’s accountability for his actions, and i think if alecto specifically chose her name to represent her own rage at the position and circumstances of her new existence, it would be a direct confrontation for john of his role as the root of her anger, and a constant reminder of the direct responsibility he holds for the real death of the earth, which would also present a threat to the story he created of it that he told to his lyctors)