#their hands were designed in a way that made it hard to form a proper fist for goodness sake

[majestyjun]

# soobin + somnophilia !!

tw. dubcon somno, size kink, soobin’s crazy obsessed, innocence kink, pet names doll, sweetheart, pretty, basically dollification but somno lol… not my best but eh !! mdni !!

could’ve sworn soobin has no reason to have a dick this big. because for someone who sits in sweatpants in front of his computer when he comes home, the only logical explanation is he sat with his long legs spread too long and now he’s hung, heavy cock forming a soft bulge in his sweats when he’s not even aroused. god, when he’s hard? but it’s just the way soobin’s huge that he loves how small you seem n feel in comparison. and soobin’s addicted.

so maybe he spent the evening once again buried in games, only to get tired and come back to bed when his eyes ache and he’s a bit dizzy from so much blue light exposure because soobin forgot his proper protection glasses. it’s such a soobin problem, isn’t it, that he has an unfortunate secret that he’s more than aroused when he sees you sleep so peacefully, shouldn’t be that way, he knows it, but fuck, it’s just so pure. undisturbed, pretty legs peeking out from beneath the sheets because it’s a little warm, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in such a gentle, soft, sweet sight. and it doesn’t help that it’s his bed, his sheets, that you’re lying in, prettier than ever.

hey, soobin murmurs, just to see if you’ll react, if you’re awake. his weight dips the mattress slightly, but to no further acknowledgement, soobin’s hands cautiously reaching over to touch the exposed skin of your stomach, gently, slowly, pretty delicate soft skin beneath his fingertips. and as if you’re made of glass, ghosting over your skin as he reaches down to slowly tug away your panties to your ankles, a soft moan escaping his lips at the sight of your pretty, soft pussy tucked between your legs, as if just waiting so patiently for him, weren’t you?

and it’s so absolutely innocent the way quiet mumbles escape from your lips as his fingers brush over your folds, ‘s little risky if he were to fill you up right away, wouldn’t want to hurt you, would he? and fuck, you’re so soft, delicate, his fingers slipping past your folds, have to make you a little more prepared to take him, his darling, fingers slowly pumping into your pussy, curling gently, slowly, slicker and slicker with your arousal wetting his fingers and palm, thumb rubbing circles over your clit.

and it’s the way soobin feels so madly in love, so obsessively infatuated with just how perfectly pure you are, like a doll fit for him only, meant for him, designed for him, bringing his fingers to his lips for a taste of your arousal, warm and wet on his tongue as soobin savors you, god, it’s so deeply arousing to make a mess of you while you’re asleep, so unaware, so peaceful despite his sinful intentions, soobin’s addicted, like a pretty spring flower, sleep making you uncorrupted and pure.

ah— so pretty, soobin murmurs, his fingers tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, adoring, infatuated gaze in his eyes. and it’s all love, love that makes him feel so deeply aroused by your pure self, fingers pressing against your side to feel the soft skin, tip of his leaking cock brushing up against your folds, god, he feels like an obsessed sinner for his desires, soft swears slipping from his lips as he pushes in, biting on his plush bottom lip at the tight resistance of your warm walls, soaked but fuck, he’a just too big, isn’t he? and he can tell by the whimper slipping from your lips, feels a little different when you’re asleep, doesn’t it,,,

and waking up to pressure, a stretching pain as your eyelashes flutter, strained breathing against your skin to see soobin, slight rosy blush on skin as he moans in the crevice of your neck, your voice coming out in soft cries at the intrusion. s-soobin–nngh, it h-hurts! you gasp, confused and so sleepy, cause all you can think about is the way your lover is too big, stretching you open more than you can manage—sweetheart, soobin drawls, s’ perfect, can take it, his voice laced with adoration as he stares at the way his thick cock slowly, slowly pushes into your pussy, folds all wet n sucking him in gradually, so excruciatingly slow, so, so, so slow—

h-hurts, ‘s too b-big,’ you whimper, fingers finding his shoulders to try and resist a little, need him to slow down a bit, but soobin’s fingers take yours, lacing through and god, is he obsessed with your hands being smaller than his, fits so perfectly to hold your hand. i’ll… i’ll take care of it, soobin murmurs, just need you to be a good girl, ‘s good for me,,,

and god, does soobin feel so obsessed, his eyes unable to draw away from just how small you are but able to fit him,,, albeit with some force, but his pretty princess, stuffed full of him and all confused but letting him, aren’t you? there’s no need to pretend like you don’t want it, not with your soaking pussy clenching him tighter n tighter, not going to let him leave you without filling you up, hmm?

and quiet coos, soft reassurances, his pure, innocent darling, letting him do everything the way he loves, his doll to play and love whenever because you’re simply just so perfect for him, aren’t you? and fuck, glistening tears on your face, hurts but love is pain isn’t it? love overwhelms, love makes you cry, love makes him feel so alive, like he could live without being one with you, darling. and slow thrusts that make him fit, bulge in your tummy showing as he thrusts deep, eliciting weak, sobbing cries, your hand clenching his so tight because you need him, don’t you~? to make it all better, let him take care of you, soobin has it his way, but his way is just love.

and it’s fine, it’s love, it’s his everything to adore you when soobin fills you up with load after load of warm cum, going to make you his, make it show, mark you from inside out,,, and fuck, does he love making you his when you’re giving him those doll eyes, wet with tears and begging his name because you can’t live without him either now, can you~? cry for love, cry because he’s so in love, so madly infatuated with your pretty, pretty self. and as his warm seed spills down your thighs, wets the sheets, it’s never enough,,, after all,, there is a reason soobin could have such a big dick, isn’t there? meant to fill you up n knock you up, hmm? his small, darling, prettiest when you’re full of his cum and so vulnerable,,, soobin’s so in love with you, he could cry for love.

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: stepcest, weed, tendou being a creep, happy bday semisemi :3

DARK CONTENT AHEAD

semi eita was the perfect step-brother you could’ve asked for. who else was supposed to show you how to be a proper college student when you’d entered the gates of university? was there someone better to warn you about certain professors? who was there to help you navigate your classes during syllabus week?

who was supposed to show you how to party? how to hit a rip from a bong, other than your sweet step-brother?

because he was so nice and understanding. he was the perfect person to guide you to sit on his lap in a dimly lit room surrounded by upperclassmen, who you didn’t know. semi was the only person who’d guide your lips to the bong that had a marble design surrounding the glass.

"c’mon, let me get a taste," a red head had slid on the couch beside you and semi, looking at your form and the plush thighs that surrounded semi’s waist, to your step-brother with a smirk. to which he replied with a roll of his eyes and a mumble of "fuck off, ‘tori."

but your head tilted in a way that could get both men, and plenty others if they paid attention, hard in their pants. you looked from the man who you were spread around in your short skirt, to the bong in his hand, to the redhead who you assumed was one of your step-brothers friends.

"let ‘em have a taste, eita. of the bong?" you question shyly, and satori swore if you weren’t claimed by his friend, he’d drag you upstairs right then and there to fuck that pretty pussy of yours. but, you were claimed by his friend and your step-brother. all of semi’s friends knew that, even though you were fresh meat, you were property of his.

both men laugh at your words, and satori rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "don’ wanna taste of that," and semi smacks the man’s arm. "not getting what’s mine, fuckin’ pervert."

only a few more seconds went by and it clicked in your head what the intentions of the man beside you were. and, well, it wasn’t like he was ugly by any means. tall, dressed in a sweatshirt and joggers, and you liked his voice.

but semi’s hand that made it’s way to your ass without warning brought you out of the thought. it’s like he could read your mind… or the way your eyes ran over his friend. he squeezed the cheek that he cupped, bringing you back to him.

"open your mouth," so you did, lips that had a sheen of gloss spreading around air as your step-brother did something with the bong. something that had him inhaling smoke and keeping it in his lungs enough to bring another hand to the backside of your head, pulling you into him and giving you a centimeter of space before pushing the smoke into your mouth.

if you were trained, the way semi’s planning on having you by the end of the semester, you’d inhale the smoke graciously. allowing the smoke to make you all warm and fuzzy with a small high reaching your head.

but, you were still unknowingly being trained. inhaling the smoke before coughing a few times and your hand flying to your mouth in embarrassment. either way, the hot boxxing of the room you were in was already getting you high from just sitting in it.

once you finish coughing, you pout your lower lip. "’m sorry, eita," and if you weren’t so overwhelmed by embarrassment, maybe you’d feel the bulge that was pressing against your clothed heat. but, you don’t, and tendou’s laughing is making you even more embarrassed.

"‘s okay, bunny," he assures, pulling you back towards his lips, except this time he sets the bong to the side and lets you suck on his lower lip to hide your face from shame.

and when you sick on semi’s lips, moving to suck on his tongue between messy and harsh kisses, you’re reminded once again what a good step-brother he is. who else would let you hide from the embarrassing world surrounding you? only semi.

[ravolix]

keys to my fragile heart

synopsis: on a late evening, you find yourself sitting on the balcony of wangshu inn with the infamous adeptus there to accompany you. eventually, your eyes get drawn to the unkempt and messy nature of xiao’s teal-streaked hair.

content: gn!human reader, canon universe, fluff/comfort for days, xiao not being the best at self care, no established relationship, plausible platonic/romantic undertones

Nights like these were rare, much less with Xiao at your side. The pale moon shines down onto your bodies, small in the grand scheme of Teyvat.

In your hands lays a simple plate of peeled and sliced oranges, the two of you taking turns picking a wedge from the ceramic dish and eating it. The citrus taste in your mouth makes up for the awkward silence.

Eventually, the silence becomes too much to bear and you find yourself glancing over at Xiao.

He sits on the railing, looking out at the scenery as he absentmindedly chews on his slice of the orange. Judging from his demeanor, he doesn’t seem to notice you looking at him— or if he did, he doesn’t show it. So, you keep looking.

Your gaze find themselves drawn to the intricate design of his tattoos, markings inked by deep aquamarines that only seems to glow more under the moonlight. From what you're able to see, his amber eyes read of something akin to a faraway look. Perhaps if you were braver, you'd be more willing to ask the adeptus about what's on his mind.

Instead, your eyes are drawn to Xiao's hair. Looking at it closely, it's not hard to realize a certain feature of the disheveled locks.

To put it simply, his hair was a mess. Knotted and matted, you wonder how the yaksha even got it to the point that it was that bad.

"Xiao," you call softly. You place the plate of oranges to the side.

His head turns around to look at you with a curious expression.

"Come here," a gentle motion of your hand beckons Xiao. He cautiously stands up from his spot on the railing and hops down to settle next to you.

"What do you need?" his voice sounds just as indifferent as ever, but there's a hint of interest laced in there that's easy for you to recognize.

"Mm, nothing. Just let me..."

The way Xiao flinches as you reach out to carefully place your hands on his head makes you wonder how used to gentle affection he is.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his eyes darting between his feet and your own gaze.

"Just trying to fix your hair. Are you...?"

With a tender motion, your fingers find a grip in his hair and you try your best to straighten out the locks as a silent finish to your question.

After you finish speaking, Xiao seems to pause. His expression goes from confused and wary to almost thoughtful. You consider asking him the question again, perhaps he didn't hear you? But, before you can even open your mouth to repeat your words, you feel a weight press against you.

"Fine. Just this once, mortal." he murmurs, his forehead resting on your shoulders. Though you can't exactly see his expression from this angle, the way his posture relaxes as you quietly run your digits through his unkempt hair makes you think he doesn't mind it as much as he lets on.

In all fairness, it's clear that simply doing this isn't enough to help the hair situation. If anything, you made a mental note to show Xiao how to have a self-care day and give him a proper bath.

But, as the astral glow of moonlight continues to cascade onto your silent forms, you allow yourself to forget about the plans for tomorrow and even the distant future.

And Xiao, for all the pain and suffering he's been through, allows himself to simply exist in the moment with you. Though your hands aren't enough to erase the lingering clouds of agony in his life, letting them in, letting you in, helps a bit.

Just for tonight, he'll let your fingers be the key to his fragile heart.

notes: random idea i had at midnight! there's very slight shade thrown at xiao and his lack of self-hygiene, but i love him he's so sweet!!

also, in case you couldn't tell, i'm a really big fan of writing stuff that's borderline platonic or romantic lol - i think it's just a fluff thing

oh, and i have a lot of drafts of just blurbs so that's why my posting schedule is going brrr

taglist:

@aphroditesswan @rainswept

[leathfaic]

Ghost and Soap tattoo headcanons because the brain worms demand it right now!

In my mind at least Ghost has a lot more tattoos than just his sleeve, it's just not common knowledge because until he gets together with Soap no one ever really sees him undressed except maybe for medical staff.

The sleeve was the beginning but he's adding to them whenever leave allows, on his chest and back, on his legs and his other arms and even his hands. Ghost is also the kind of guy that is very stoic while getting tattoos, the pain doesn't really bother him, he's been through so much worse, but he's not the guy who's chatting with the artist either. He just sits through it. Similarly afterwards he's pretty disciplined about the aftercare required. Sun rarely is an issue with the way he dresses and he plans his leave times around the appointments so he can take it easy for a while.

When the inevitable itching starts he just glares at the spot, never actually touching it, but he gets fucking irritated for a few days.

And while he's not the best at taking care of himself in many aspects of his life I can actually see him take good care of his tattoos in the long run, because I imagine him getting them to cover up scars, especially those left by Roba and his men. It's his way of reclaiming his body. The motive itself often isn't as important as the fact that he chose to have it put at that spot. The meaning isn't in the design either it's in the fact that it was his decision to wear it, unlike the scars that were forced upon him.

And then there's Soap, he's only got the one tattoo that we know, at least when he meets Ghost.

Its faded from sunlight exposure and because he never took proper care of it while it healed, even caught himself scratching it once or twice when the itching started. Its always exposed and he rarely thinks of putting sunscreen on, so naturally the tattoo has a hard time and the colour fades quick.

So at some point Ghost asks him if he wants it touched up. He's making an appointment with the artist he trusts anyways and he'd be happy to bring him along. Ghost knows that for Soap his tattoo does have meaning, that he's fucking proud to have made it into the SAS and that he got kinda sad comparing the crisp lines of Ghost's tattoos to his own.

Soap ends up agreeing although he's wary since he can't see it go better than it did last time. But if anything the fact that Ghost is allowing him to come along for this is such a huge sign of trust that he just can't refuse it.

And Ghost's tattoo artist is going to have to recover for a moment because Soap is so fucking chatty compared to Ghost, the pain is kinda exciting to him so he talks more and more and the artist hears more words out of Ghost in response to Johnny than he ever did before. Would wonder if it was the same man if they weren't literally continuing work on a tattoo they had started.

Once they are both done Ghost makes sure Soap takes proper care of the new ink. Threatens to tie him to the bed if he starts scratching at night (something Soap finds entirely too exciting). Shares his care products with him and makes him wrap it up for the first weeks and months. Is always at hand with some sun screen, at least for the arm, even when they are in the middle of nowhere. It's worth the trouble to squeeze some sun screen in his pack when he gets to see Johnny so happy about how good his tattoo looks again.

And once he sees how a properly taken care of piece will look Soap wants more. Ends up accompanying Ghost to the studio whenever he goes.

He's creative, most of what ends up on him is based on his own sketches, always with meaning behind it for him. The next thing he gets is a certain skull based on a specific mask that he wears close to his heart (making Ghost go through emotions he wasn't aware he was capable of having). He also helps Ghost with giving some of his ideas form often redrawing endless variations to make sure Simon doesn't just pick one that seems okay and fitting for its purpose but one he really likes to look at too. Poor man almost loses it when he sees one of his sketches inked on Ghost for the first time and its a good thing they are on leave because he's not gonna let him out of their bed any time soon. Purely to protect the new ink from the sun of course.

[spacenintendogs]

Can you share more about your degree? It sounds super interesting! Mine was just pretty straight forward (literature) lol.

sure!!

horticulture is never rlly easy to explain bc there's the basic definition of like "the art or practice of garden cultivation and management" according to the oxford dictionary (that i googled lol) but it's like. so many "hard" sciences and "soft" sciences mixed together. my first class was intro to horticulture and one of our tasks was to legit make our own definition.

i always explain it as the study of the art and science behind plants and how we apply them to our environments, human made or not.

i just have a two year degree bc i went to community college but it's skdkskd usually enough to get a job in the industry & work your way up. my degree was also very very hands on. during the 2020-2021 lockdown i had to go on campus despite the rest of it being closed (obv we were masked & stayed outside) but it was for classes like plant id courses, nursery production, etc

my fave classes were entomology (study of insects) & plant pathology (diseases caused by pathogens & environmental conditions!!). i also loved plant propagation (how to grow seeds!!!!) and it led to how i chose my certification in greenhouse production!! i learned basically how a greenhouse runs & how to manage it!! (i have a second certificate in permaculture (permanent agriculture in which you learn how to garden but it's a self sustaining ecosystem based on where u live!!) but that is based on a number of hours completed rather than taking a bunch of classes)

there is also a huge push for sustainability! lots of my professors had their docorates and masters in climate science and were very open & honest abt the way of the world & how gray it is in terms of what we make advancements in. (first class ever we talked abt gmos which are a touchy subject a lot of the time. they have their bads and goods. it's very messy as a topic & no clear answer on what to do bc they can't just get rid gmos but also? can't we do better with them?)

it's also learning abt how the industry in terms of sales & how plants grown travel. learning at shipments & the amt of mileage with a semi truck vs other forms of transport. how much each stop in the supply chain gets when you buy groceries (shopping local vs. big box stores).

i also did a project with my old high school in designing an outdoor classroom for them & learned abt designing a landscape (this was specifically one using mostly native plants!)

we would go to local forest preserves to learn about different ecosystems and biomes and why native plants are best but also how the majority of plants brought over, like, 80%, are not invasive. we did learn abt invasive plants as well and were very carefully instructed on proper control for pests (ranging from plants to insects to bacteria to virus... altho if your plant catches a virus... godspeed). chemical controls are ALWAYS a last resort.

we would go to local nurseries and greenhouses and farms to learn abt how they run!!!

it was just so much hands on learning and better understanding how the world works while also being told straight up where the world is heading (esp with climate change which will lead to inevitable zone shifting for what plants can grow where) and it's just augh!! so broad idek what to specifically go in on!! it's an amazing field!!

[ratbaguett-e]

Dazai x GN! Reader

~ Dazai teases you and you’ve had enough. You confront him about it and decide to take matters into your own hands. However, just when you think you have control over him he proves you wrong ~

You guys aren’t in a relationship, reader is slightly Tsundere but not in a cringe way just trust me, bondage, use of a spreader bar, giving head (Reader receiving), daddy kink, Dom! Reader first and then Dazai pulls a sneaky on you, the end

- Enjoy and feel free to leave a BSD request 🤕💙

Fukuzawa and the rest of the team welcomed you to the Armed Detective Agency with open arms and held a celebration in honor of your recruitment. This relieved you since you didn’t know how reliable you seemed as a non-gifted, but the immense hospitality was very reassuring. Over time you guys became colleagues, yes, but also friends.

Dazai had always been especially friendly with you. He could read people very well and noticed that you were shy and not yet comfortable. Thankfully he’s someone who can initiate a conversation and keep it going, this was a blessing to you because you never could have done this yourself. Dazai’s specialty was making wallflowers or new comers who felt anxious about the change an environment feel comfortable. Or so you thought. It was revealed to you by Yosano that while Osamu Dazai was quite the extrovert, he doesn’t do that with just anybody.

In two months it will be a year since you joined the ADA as a crime scene investigator. You collected evidence and made sure it got into the proper hands to be analyzed and, because of your keen eye, you couldn’t help but notice that Yosano was right. Dazai did act differently towards you. Out of your peripheral you caught him staring quite a bit. Whenever he walked by your designated area he seemed to almost hover, sometimes stopping to tease you like always.

Today, as you got dressed in uniform, you prepared yourself for Dazai’s antics. Would it be a compliments and suggestive innuendoes day or one of his touchy days? You would die before admitting this to anyone, but while the compliments were flattering and the innuendos never failed to make you blush, that warm and skillful touch of his really did it for you. Yet you always let out a “tsk” and shoved him away, insisting that you found him annoying to keep that secret to yourself.

Today he caught you on the first floor where the café was. You had been assigned by Ranpo to bring him back a piece of cake since you’d be down there anyway ordering a coffee for yourself. Now here you are. At a booth. With Dazai. Waiting for your drink and Ranpo’s cake. They seemed to be taking forever on purpose.

Thing is rather than sitting across from you Dazai had squeezed himself into the booth right next to you, trapping you between his slender body and the window.

“I haven’t seen you all day Y/N! Oh how I missed you~” he said in a cheesy voice.

You let out an “annoyed” groan.

“I was actually doing quite great without your incessant nagging. I got a lot of work done and didn’t have to keep my head on a swivel to be given some space.”

He leaned back with a dreamy sigh, clasping his hands over his heart.

“Oh my sweet angel has been working so hard! Clearly you deserve some form of compensation my dear…” he bats is eyes at you, leaning in closer to your face.

It almost makes you crack a smile but you manage to suppress it as your eyes twitch.

“Y/N? Your cake and latte are ready!” A kind waitress yells for you.

“That’s me…,” you say, expecting him to move so you can get out of the booth.

You look behind him at your- well, Ranpo’s food, and your drink sitting on the counter near the pick-up area. By the time you look back at him he’s gotten even closer. The people behind him probably can’t see you from behind is broad shoulders. The look in his eyes was something different too, softer but swimming with emotion.

“One last thing before you go,” even closer now, you feel a blush rise to your face that you can’t suppress.

He notices. He lifts your chin up to look him in the eye. Oh god. He’s touching you. You feel a warmth tingle inside of your belly and your blush darkens, he can’t help but almost chuckle at how comically wide your eyes are. He’s so close, he’s so warm, he-

“Could you print something off for me?”

That’s it?! You try to calmly reply, making sure not to visibly deflate in front of him, “…Yes… is that all?”

Not that you were hoping there’d be more or anything. Of course not.

“I’m afraid so. thank you my little worker bee!”

He’s back to his usual chipper self, his voice going up again from the sultry tone he was using just mere seconds ago. He still doesn’t get up from the booth.

“Uhm… Dazai, if you don’t mind I’d like to grab my stuff please. I need to head back-,”

Oh but do you have too~” he whines.

You huff out a sigh, “YES Dazai my break ends in roughly five minutes.”

It’s his turn to let out a sigh now.

“I guess…” that smirk is back. No. NO dear god what is it now?

The fucker still doesn’t move. His arms are crossed behind his head, eyes closed and that stupid, handsome- stupid smirk is still on his stupidly stupid and completely average face which is stupid.

“Dazai I need you to move please.”

“Oh, but…” he grunts the last word with a dramatic stretch. “I’m just so so comfortable…” Ugh.

You would crawl under the table but that’s embarrassing, plus his legs are stretched out all the way taking up the space between the booth across from you guys. You wouldn’t have any room. A sense of dread fills your gut and your face heats up again. You’re going to have to crawl over him. That’s why he was looking so smug, that’s what he wants you to do. Of fucking course.

You swallow your pride and scoot closer to him, look away to exhale, and continue. You finally get close, close enough to see the spacing between each of his eyelashes.

“Uh… I’m just gonna…” you put all your weight back on your hands and lift your hips up off the seat.

You put one arm on the the other side of him in a crab walk, your leg follows. You’re about to slide on out of the booth when you feel his big and warm hands grab your hips and pull you down, you let out a noise of surprise. He’s holding you down on his lap, you think you might die. Your entire body heats up, you probably look so red, oh god. His hands move up to your waist, holding you just below the ribs. The feeling of him basically caressing your body makes you stir in his lap. He grips you tighter, pulling you back against him even more. You feel his breath right against your ear.

“Careful,” he says in that same deep, sultry tone from earlier.

He carefully and slowly uncurls his fingers from around you but you’re too stunned to move. He chuckles and wraps his arms completely around your waist and returns his mouth to your ear.

“As much as I’d love you to stay you do have work to finish,” god that voice.

You finally snap back into reality and gently shove his arms off you, slide the rest of the way out of the booth and leave with your things in hand.

On the elevator ride back up to the office you noticed that you were lightly sweating. You could’ve bashed your head against the wall at how obvious you were. He’s got to know how really feel now, how embarrassing.

Still in a daze, you uncaringly tossed the bag with Ranpo’s cake in it onto his desk to which he yelled in a panic, “Careful with the merchandise!,” as you went back to your own desk with your coffee in hand.

Ranpo had an idea as to what had you so suddenly aloof, he saw Dazai head to the café earlier. The detective decided to be merciful and not talk about it considering your current mood.

You carried on the rest of the day without Dazai interacting with you at all.

“Tch, good,” you thought to yourself. “Maybe now I’ll get some peace and quiet.”

You knew deep down that you wanted him to touch you, make you flustered as he always did. You wanted him bad.

It wasn’t too late when you got out. President Fukuzawa dismissed you all early since the recent case was wrapped up after nearly two weeks of endless paperwork. As you were getting packed up, Dazai approached you again, you held your breath.

“Y/N…” you looked up at him, urging him to go on.

“I really meant it when I said you’d been working very hard recently. Because of that I’d like to treat you tonight if you don’t mind.”

You froze, was he being for real?

“Are you being for real?” You asked out loud.

He huffed out a small laugh, his hands going into his pockets.

“Yes I am being for real. I know a small place just near my apartment. It’s not too fancy but they have your favorite dish… so I’ve been thinking of taking you for a while.”

He looked away from you nervously biting his lip. He said too much. Were you going to ask how he knew what your favorite food was? How long had he gone wanting to ask you out? Fuck.

To his surprise you replied rather calmly with a, “Yes I’d love to.”

You’d love to. You’d love to. You grabbed your bag and drove the two of you to the restaurant as he gave you directions. You had the time of your life.

———————————————————————————

It had been a lovely dinner. However, you were both young adults and as most people would expect one thing led to another and now here you are in Dazai’s apartment being led to his bedroom. As soon as his bedroom door was shut your hands were on each other. You two made out with your hands going everywhere. His jacket was off. Your jacket was off. As soon as you came through the door shoes were off as well. Soon enough you were both bare, except for Dazai’s bandages. As you two kissed he tangled his hand in your hair and brought you closer, pressing his tongue against your lips.

You opened your moth to accommodate him but he ended up pulling away with a smirk and asking, “What’s that for? Expecting something bigger?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved him onto the bed, his back now flat against the mattress and his head between the pillows.

“I’ve had enough of your teasing…,” you said before continuing, “…for almost a year you’ve done nothing but mess with me and you knew what you were doing.”

His smirk widens into a grin.

“Well I was hoping you’d pick up on the hints but you never did. Remember it took me asking you on a date that got us here in the first place.”

You scoff, “Well it’s like you said earlier. I do deserve some compensation for working so hard do I not?,” you retort.

He chuckles, loving your boldness, little do you know…

“Well then…,” he starts, “If you really want complete control then there’s a pair of handcuffs in my jacket.”

You like that idea. You walk over to his coat on the floor and find the handcuffs, you walk back over and put them on his wrists.

“What’s up first on the itinerary sweetheart? Do you plan on ravaging me or making me wait. I have other toys for you to use ya know.”

You roll your eyes, “I might gag you if you don’t stop mocking me.”

His eyes grow wide. Since when did you become such a control freak? Your attractive boldness and dominance makes him want to overthrow you even more, he loves a challenge, and he really loves humbling people.

“If you’re so intent on keeping me quiet I recommend bandages. Oh! Or maybe a handkerchief…. So many options.”

You put a hand around his throat and his smile gets impossibly wider feeling the pressure on both sides of his neck. His eyes were shiny and full of mirth. He teasingly let out a loud moan as you tightened your grip.

“You really are insufferable,” you state before walking over to his dresser and opening the top drawer where the bandages and extra cloth were.

Funny, there was nothing in there.

As soon as you were about to turn back around a handkerchief was placed over your eyes. You gasp as you feel yourself being lifted from where you’re standing and being thrown back onto the bed.

“Sorry for the scare darling, I just needed to get you distracted.”

You hear the snap of his fingers and what you assume is the clinking of the handcuffs coming undone.

“H-hey what’re you doing?!”

He did as you did to him earlier and put the cuffs on you, wrapped the chain around one of the metal bars in his bed frame, and secured them.

“I want to show you what I’ve been hoping all that flirting and teasing would lead to.”

You desperately yanked on the handcuffs above your head.

He continued, “Don’t act like you want to escape. I know all of the corrupt things that intensify your sexual pleasure. After observing your reactions to all of my teasing, I think I’ve mapped out exactly what you want me to do.”

He was right, you loved this, every second of it. All of those lewd fantasies of yours don’t compare to what’s happening to you right now.

Finally, having your hands cuffed, eyes covered, and Dazai’s mouth back on yours, you were ready to be given your “compensation.” You felt Dazai’s mouth go down your neck, your chest, your stomach, he stayed in the middle of your body, you tensed up anticipating what he was about to do. That’s when you felt his mouth on you. You let out a surprised moan to which he hummed, you felt the rumble of his throat as he pleasured you with his mouth. He expertly licked, sucked, and kissed you sloppily making you feel amazing. You felt that knot in your stomach, the tingle you knew all too well.

“Hah~ I’m cumming- AhH~” a particularly hard suck made you jolt and come onto his mouth where he greedily continued to pleasure you.

You became overstimulated and tried clamping your thighs around his head, he roughly separated them and kept going. You were whining non-stop, you sounded so cute, like you could just cry.

The more he continued the more you tried to close your legs. He finally came off of you with a slick popping noise that made you flinch and let out a whimper.

You were panting as he looked down at you and said, “You seem to have trouble keeping those legs open, but it’s not a problem. I know how to keep you in place. “Wait huh!?”

You shouted after him, how does he always have so many tricks up his sleeve?

You heart him open a closet and walk back over to you, he grabbed one of your ankles and pulled you down slightly to where he stood at the edge of the bed making you gasp. You felt a strap tighten around your ankle, then the other. You then heard three clicks and your legs went further apart. A spreader bar. You’ve never had one used on you before and you wished you had sooner. The thrill of being completely restrained and at his mercy made you even more desperate for him to be inside of you.

“Hmmm… not much protest there. How about another inch wider? Maybe two??”

He taunted you as he clicked the bar outwards two more times. You felt a slight stretch in your hamstrings but not enough to hurt.

“Look at you. Maybe I should-,”

“Thisisfinethisisfine,” you blurted out. He let out a sadistic laugh at your desperation.

“Looks like enough for me to fit…” You blushed at what he meant, you knew he wasn’t talking about the spacing between your legs. god why did he have to be so… so…

Your thoughts quieted as you felt the head of his cock press against your opening. You tensed and he rubbed soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs to calm you down.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet on me. Is everything alright?”

You gulped before responding, “Please… I want more please. You’re s-so close please no more teasing,” you whined.

Dazai went into a completely different headspace after that. The way you begged made him so desperate, perhaps even more than you were.

“Anything for you,” he said before sliding into you with a slick sound.

He let out a strained growl as you whimpered, he was so big. He held himself there for a moment, biting his lip and heavily breathing.

“God you’re so f-fucking good, ugh~” he moaned out before slowly moving in and out of you.

You appreciated him slowing things down for you, but you wanted him to completely ravage you, make you lose all thoughts in that pretty head of yours. So that’s exactly what you asked him to do.

“H-harder, please… mmph~ please be rough with me Osamu…I want you so badly.”

He stilled at your command. He loved the way you begged for him.

“Whatever you want darling,” he replied.

Before you knew it he was pounding into you fast and hard. His pace was perfect and the strength behind his thrusts made you see starts. He hit the sweet spot at the back of you with every thrust. He kept a steady rhythm and calculated his movements so precisely. He would pull out almost all the way and push back in and hit your spot, making you feel him stretch you. You were in heaven.

“G-god please Osamu… l-let me touch you p-please…” he let out another sexy giggle in between his moans.

“I don’t think I should darling… you were being awfully m-mean to me earlier,” he throws his head back and groans as you let out another whimper.

“Please Osamu… I’ll be so good for you I p-promise- AhHh~” he brings down a hand to your throat and applies pressure as you did earlier.

You let out a moan as he squeezes tighter making you squirm underneath him. He leans his head down next to your face and slows his thrusts, maintaining the power behind them while loosening his grip on your throat .

“I’m not giving you what you want so easily baby,” his grip tightens once more. “Earn it.”

He punctuates the last two words with a rough thrust into you making you wail.

“Go on, don’t just sit there and cry, prove to me that you deserve to touch me.”

You can’t form a response as he starts to pick up his pace again and returns to hitting the soft spot inside of you at an unrelenting pace making you whine out,

“Ahh~ please daddy I’ll do a-anything you want.”

Dazai almost moaned out loud at you calling him that. Luckily you couldn’t see the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head hearing you whimper out the title.

“F-fuck baby say that again,” you couldn’t muster the strength to say it.

He wasn’t letting up on kissing your sweet spot with the head of his cock, you could hardly even hear him anymore. He had fucked you stupid which made him even more persistent. He just needed to hear you say it one last time and then you could feel him.

He tightened his grip on your neck once more and pulled you upwards to get closer to his face. You could feel his heavy breathing.

“I won’t ask again… say it and then you can touch me. You said you’d do anything I want,” that you did.

“Mmph~ please let me touch you daddy… wan-wanna hold you s-so bad- nGH~” just as he promised, he released your wrists and grabbed you by the arms, wrapping them around his broad shoulders with his own around your waist.

He smothered you into the mattress and continued to grind into you, forcing your body to jolt up and down with every thrust. Your nails dug into his back and you bit onto his shoulder to suppress your noises, whining and drooling on his skin.

Dazai isn’t one that likes pain or suffering. But he might as well have been considered a masochist with the way your teeth and nails digging into him made him spurt his hot cum into you almost instantly, his moan turned into a whine and he hid his face in your neck, feeling you constrict around him and return the favor, releasing all over his stomach and chest. He pushed in and out a few more times, slowing down with each one to help ease both of you down from your orgasm. He bottomed out one more time and held himself there for a few seconds before pulling out of you, you felt his hot liquid come streaming out of you. You felt embarrassed considering how far your legs were forced apart, putting the scene on display for him. He smirked to himself at the sight, going unnoticed by you, who was still blindfolded.

He untied the handkerchief from the back of your head and used it to wipe up the mess you both made on each other. He undid your legs that now had circular marks from the leather wrapping around them and put the contraption away. He soothes your ankles with his hands and looks up at you, lying back with your arms spread on either side of your body, still breathing heavily.

“You did so good for me, my little worker bee,” you huffed out a laugh at the corny nickname as did he.

He gave your knee a kiss and went to his closet to get some clean clothes laid out for both of you. The way his clothes hung off of you made you feel extra warm.

He left to get some soda and popcorn from the kitchen before getting into bed next to you, putting pillows behind you both and putting his arm around you as you laid your head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head, turned the on the TV and you both watched movies until you fell asleep.

[adobe-outdesign]

What are your thoughts on the Finizen line? I like the concept and the gimmick (Palafin gets a second form that only comes out during battle to relate to superheroes and secret identities), but Palafin’s “civilian” mode just looks too similar to Finizen. I mean, I still love them because they’re adorable, but Gamefreak couldn’t have made a few more changes to Palafin’s “civilian” mode?

It's hard to believe it took us this long to get a dolphin Pokemon. It was never something I was personally all that excited for, but I actually have a major soft spot for this line thanks to the silly superhero gimmick.

Finizen itself is incredibly cute (I once heard someone describe it as a "littlest pet shop character" and have never been unable to unsee that since). I'm not much of an IRL dolphin person, but even I'll admit that I find it adorable.

nothing spectacular but nice looking, and a good "safe" design that won't disappoint those who wanted a traditional dolphin. Little details like the wave patterns alone the side and dorsal fine, the ring on the tail, the pink in the eyes and blowhole, and the counter shading going up over the eye add a bit of flavor to an otherwise plain design.

My only tiny visual nitpick is that the countershading on the eye creates this weird little tension point right at the beak where it flares out instead of just seamlessly merging with the underbelly. It's obviously very minor, but it's just a weird enough choice to bug me.

GameFreak I don't think you tried at all with this artwork

I actually think Palafin's zero-form design works. If this was the evolution and there was nothing else to it, that would be incredibly lazy and underwhelming; but we have an entirely different form to accompany it that looks drastically different, so it's more like the "evolution" is hidden behind its ability.

More importantly, it plays into the superhero theme; it secretly gains powers, with this form being its secret identity. You even have to recall it in battle in order for it to switch to its other form, with the pokeball acting as a metaphorical phone booth. The red spot even kind of resembles the Superman logo.

I do wish they went into the lore of this a bit more though; like, why does it refuse to transform in front of people? It's not like it literally has a secret identity or family it needs to protect or something. Saying something like "Transforming leaves it open to attack, so it doesn't like to change its appearance in front of others" would add a lot to the concept.

Speaking of the alternate form, I have... mixed feelings on it. On the one hand, I love fun gimmick Pokemon, and Palafin is no exception—I like it enough that I actually use a Palafin on my main team in SV. But the other hand, the design is a bit... questionable.

Don't get me wrong; theme-wise, it's great. A superhero motif is maybe a little questionable to be put on a dolphin (given that they're basically Ocean Fratboys), but it probably references how they sometimes save people from drowning. Regardless, we haven't really had a proper classic superhero Pokemon before, so it's very much a niche that's nice to fill.

However, in terms of design, I will never forget how leaks were coming out before the release on Reddit at like 3 AM, and the topmost upvoted comment when Palafin dropped was just "am I still awake?", which I think pretty accurately sums it up.

First, the design is weirdly humanoid in a bad way. It's mildly distressing that it sports human fingers and pectoral muscles for no reason; was it that hard to make a top-heavy dolphin with normal flippers for arms?

I also feel like the water (mucus?) accents on the body are a bit too much, and feel pretty forced compared to everything else. The gloves, for example, could've just been white wave-like markings over the lower flipper, similar to Finizen's dorsal fin. I don't think it needed to be this literal to work. I also find the eyes particularly weird; I though initially they were just big ol' bushy eyebrows with squinty eyes, but instead they're these weird goggle things that end up looking somewhat uncanny.

I also think that it has a weird lack of visual connection to its zero-form design; to the point where I'm pretty sure they were designed by two completely separate people. The only visual similarities are the rings on the tail, the chest marking, and the dorsal fin marking (both of which have changed shape). Everything else, from body shape to markings to colors, are completely different. Ideally, you would be able to look at it and see the connection between the two, but when you send Palafin out to battle in its hero form, it feels like you just sent out a completely different Pokemon entirely.

Overall, as a whole, I do really like this line, and it might be one of my personal favorites from Paldea; Finizen is cute and Palafin has a fun gimmick and unique theme. I just wish the hero design was a bit less uncanny and a bit more in-line with the zero form. (I also wish that you didn't need multi-player to evolve it—but that's beside the point.)

[atwas-gaming]

Thoughts on the Final Horizon

I've been trying to put my thoughts on Final Horizon into a cohesive analysis, and... it hasn't happened yet. So just have some terribly disjointed thoughts.

Gameplay

First off, I want to say that I only filled in about a third of the map, so I probably didn't get the full story on anything. But I did beat The End, so I have seen how the story actually ends. And personally, I'm calling this the true ending. For one thing, the boss feels like a proper boss- it's very difficult to figure out on your own, it's easy to mess up, it's not just an out-of-place mini-game that felt like it was shoved in at the last second, and we're not left scratching our heads and wondering why literal Death wasn't so much harder.

Easy and medium modes in the base game left me with the same reaction as Sonic: "Is that it???" Hard mode left me feeling like nothing made sense. Seriously, a destroyer of worlds can't do better than a few dark and light particles and an occasional death laser? I spend most of hard mode in the base game going, "Ugh, I suck at bullet hells, what does this have to do with Sonic, anyway?!?"

The required mini-games were annoying enough, but to make it into a boss fight? Never made sense, and it never felt like a real Sonic boss.

But The End in Final Horizon does. First we fight Supreme. Same old Supreme fight as ever. And he whips out his gun and you're going, "gee, I wish they'd done more with that." But then you get into the final boss, and they did. The gun is how The End is filling Supreme with its power, connecting its siphon to it to fill Supreme with its power. We have to remove the siphon, and then the gun, to be able to destroy Supreme, and that gives us the opportunity to go after the moon.

I am not convinced that the hands that sprout from Supreme's back weren't inspired by TOTK's gloom spawn XP. Especially in the second phase of the fight, when they start glowing and spitting at us.

The perfect parry we learned to use in Master King Koco's trial (along with the punch-stomp technique, amirite?) suddenly becomes important instead of just a nuisance.

If you're like me and you were a little disappointed that Sonic automatically cylooped Knight's sword instead of us getting the chance to cyloop it, we now get the chance to cyloop Supreme's gun.

I have a few nitpicks on the design, largely the fact that those dang trees were in the way most of the time, and also that it was so hard to figure out how to manage the fight (I totally forgot that dodge changes the target, so I spent an hour or two trying to figure out why I couldn't just kill Supreme and then go after the moon). Otherwise, I think it was fairly well-designed, considering that it was a DLC addition.

Story

As for the story aspect, I loved it. It was honestly about time Sonic got a new form, and Cyber Sonic fits him so well. It's clearly more than he can handle, but he "goes all out," because if he doesn't, it's over. He's not just saving his friends, anymore- he has to destroy literal Death, or the universe itself will be destroyed. (Just the universe? From the way this thing is capable of destroying the walls between dimensions, I think Sonic just saved the whole freaking space-time continuum.)

And it becomes a team effort. First Sage steps up to throw up a shield similar to the dimensional shield that kept The End trapped for milleni- albeit a much smaller one that begins breaking almost immediately; however, the fact that she could do it at all speaks volumes about not only her strength, but her ability to tap into Cyberspace. Then Team Sonic joins in, each of them equal in strength to Sage because of not only their connections to Cyberspace, but also the cyber corruption they've suffered as a result of retrieving the Emeralds.

Sonic develops new attacks and abilities, apparently having gained even greater speed and agility than ever before because of the Cyber Corruption. I don't know if this happens all the time or if I just screwed up somewhere, but it seemed like The End shot out some kind of huge energy ball that ripped both the Emeralds and the rings right out of Sonic- but then he just pulled them all back in, somehow?

I was sitting there through the whole fight going, "Come on, come on, we gotta take out that moon!" And the way they did it was, I think, even better than the normal ending (base game). In the normal ending, Sage throws Sonic into The End, and while it's enough to do some damage, Sonic is just too small. Sage, in Supreme, is large enough and has enough power to completely obliterate The End- something Sonic couldn't have done even if he'd released all the Emeralds' power while he was passing through the moon's center. He would have died for nothing. But Sage dies, instead. And we get a post-credits cutscene of Eggman rebooting Sage from backup copies. This is the normal ending.

That's why I think of Final Horizon as the True Ending- it's the one where no one dies except the bad guy. And its so perfect. Eggman and Sonic just... they just work together like they each know what the other one's going to do (one of the benefits of having been enemies for so long, I guess). There's almost no conversation between them, Eggman's already got the gun attached to the Eggmobile, he doesn't have to tell Sonic that Sonic is going to be the bullet, he just knows to do it.

Once Sonic is safely enclosed deep within the barrel of the gun, he releases the barriers that he himself put up to protect himself from the corruption, becoming a little ball of pure cyber energy. The last time the corruption took him over, he turned into a statue, like stone. This time, he holds onto his mind long enough to remain conscious while he does what he has to do. Nothing is said about his mental condition, he just roars like an animal as he rushes at the shell of Supreme's casing and the moon. I imagine he let his amnesia take over, let his mind be taken over by pure rage and one thought: DESTROY THAT THING.

(Also, I recommend watching Sonic strike the final blow in Japanese. Junichi's screams are just so perfect. Roger's voice acting in Frontiers is amazing, but I'm sorry, Roger is still the worst screamer. Junichi is amazing here.)

And then... maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think I've ever seen Super Sonic look beat up, or unconscious. Perhaps it was the Emeralds that gave Sonic the ability to hold onto himself long enough to fight? At any rate, he unleashed his Cyber power while inside The End, destroying it, and neutralizing the corruption so it didn't affect him anymore.

And then Sage finally gets to hear Eggman call her his daughter. And... the final boss music from the base game finally makes sense. I never understood why it was so tender and lovely, or why it was called "I'm With You." I figured it had something to do with Sage, but I couldn't figure out what. Now that we have lyrics, it makes sense. All she was ever thinking about was her father. Even in the base game, before she realized that she would have to die, she was just looking forward to the day that she would have a family.

BTW, I'm still not a fan of the whole "daddy Eggman" thing, I see his fondness for Sage as purely narcissistic- he built her, and she protects him, and he's proud of her for exceeding his expectations. I don't think he cares about her, he just cares about what she does for him. But even so... it's still touching. And Sonic does have a monologue on Ouranos where he says something like, "Eggman, maybe you'll finally get your act together this time." Perhaps they are leaning in that direction. Hmm... tbh, I wouldn't mind seeing him get a redemption arc, eventually. Doubt it will ever really happen, but I'm a sucker for a redemption story, so I can hope.

Final Thoughts (and some hopes for Frontiers 2)

Anyway, despite some of the shortcomings and a lack of properly setting us up and preparing us for it, I think Final Horizon was good. I can't say that it leaves me feeling like they gave us the ending they had originally intended. For instance, I've heard that Ouranos was originally intended to be set in space or something (just a rumor I heard in one video- apparently there's a lost voice clip of Sage saying something about a mothership). So, I don't feel like we got the full story as it was originally intended.

But, like... this was the biggest and most well-received Sonic game to come out in generations (see what I did there?). And I believe Sega has already said they plan on using a similar format for the next game.

Now, I'm not trying to make a prediction or get anyone's hopes up, but... well...

I mean, Team Sonic's gonna go do their own things, right? Amy and Tails are going off to explore on their own, Knuckles says he wants to go somewhere and not be tied down to Angel Island so much anymore. So, who's gonna go with Sonic on his next adventure?

May I suggest making Team Dark relevant again?

And then, since we've already involved aliens and Ancient alien technology and the Emeralds apparently came from space... and Shadow is part alien... You see where I'm going with this?

It's just my own idea, but hey, I can dream, can't I? They could make a whole 'nother huge game if they went such a route.

Anyway, whatever they decide to do, I'm looking forward to it. Frontiers was a heck of a ride- lol, I've been on this ride almost non-stop for a year now. If Sega does as good with the next game, I definitely want to see it!

[writtenwyrm]

The Ascension

A Slay the Spire story, Epilogue

All Parts

Not everyone could be saved.

The efforts of the Time Eater had kept the tower together, in a sense. Time still passed, buildings still fell into ruin and collapsed over the many, many years that had gone by as I climbed the Spire. But the people came back, returned to the same morning. They were in pristine health, without even the memories of what had happened, because nothing had happened in the first place.

But no being is perfect, and no power–even that of the Ancients–is limitless.

I crawled through the library, feeling my bulk brush against the shelves on either side of me. I was cautious with my new legs, short and stubby, yet enough to move me without dragging my belly.

Look, the Silent spoke in my mind. That one might be it. My eyes had landed on the spine of a small book, green. Golden words inscribed the title. Strong Foundations, by an Elikar Ponderwit.

Perhaps. The familiar voice of the Defect retorted, monotone as ever. The chances are not high, as they were not for the last ten books we discovered.

I took it off the shelf, one claw easing out to fall to the floor. I twisted my body, feeling the shelves creak from the pressure, and pointed my eyes down at it. I turned pages in chunks, letting the words flash by.

It was the book I was looking for, but I had a hard time feeling satisfied at the accomplishment. Now I had to make my way out of the Library, an ordeal almost as difficult as getting in in the first place. I made my way out from between the shelves, folding the book into my paw as I went and walking on my knuckles in order to protect it. The stride was awkward, favoring that leg, but my quadruped form didn’t leave me with any extra limbs to carry things, and the Collector would burn me alive if I put it in my mouth.

At the front of the hall, I settled down to wait and catch my breath. My eyes settled closed, as I thought over the events of the past couple weeks. The slow changing of my body, transforming my flippers into proper legs, discovering what I could and could not affect about myself. The size remained static, and my skin was pebbly and blue regardless of the shape I took.

I felt a gaze upon me, and I cracked open a single eye.

There was a man there, hands full of books, staring at me. He looked worn, somewhat ragged, despite the new clothes. Everyone was worn, now that the loop was broken.

Maybe we can convince him to look for more books by Elikar, in return for a favor.

I pushed the thought away. I was tired, but I wasn’t in a hurry, either. The Merchant sulked, frustrated at the inefficiency.

But the man simply stared, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry, in awe, or simply as weary as I was. His presence was starting to make me uncomfortable, and a flare of wordless frustration made me open my eye enough to look at him directly. He started, and hurried away.

Liss arrived a few minutes later, carrying books of her own. She took mine to add to her stack, and I heaved myself back to my feet and followed her. The Collector stopped us on the way out, and there was a brief negotiation, before we made our way out. I didn’t make eye contact with the cloaked woman, keeping my gaze on Liss’s back.

The City was alight with lanterns, like a night sky full of stars overhead. People were out and about, walking freely from one layer to another, crossing whatever bridges were still standing.

We passed construction as we climbed, new buildings and bridges growing from the ruins of the old. Liss called out to workers we passed, and they called back, friendly. But none of them came close, and I had no illusions as to why that was.

We had to stop multiple times so I could catch my breath. Even with my new legs, the stairs were brutal. Liss never complained, and neither did I.

When we finally reached the temple, there was already a small crowd. Liss led the way through, and I noted the mass of colors, clustered groups of people wearing similar designs and emblems. They stepped back as I pushed my way through, keeping their feet out of my way.

Just so they don’t get stepped on? Or are they scared? I wasn’t sure who that was, if it was anyone at all. But the thought came unbidden, and the Silent was the one to respond, firm and sharp.

If they were afraid, they wouldn’t be here.

Liss settled at the front of the room, just behind the altar. She looked confident, and she didn’t rush with sorting out her books, even as the crowd started to murmur restlessly. I was… proud wasn’t the right word, not really. I didn’t deserve to be proud. But happy, that she seemed to have found a place for her.

“Today, we’ll be reading for Junpei, Hallower, and Great Reach. Would any followers please step forward?” When she spoke, the crowd quieted, and then a handful of people stepped forward, three small groups. Three and four people, wearing red and golden clothes respectively, and then a single small man who looked too small in his tattered green robes. Not a lot of people. There were people not there, I was certain, the way they stood revealing their missing members that should have been standing between them, or next to them.

The Time Eater had done its best. But hundreds or thousands of resets was more than enough for mistakes to be made, for people to be left behind. To slip between the cracks and be forgotten. More and more, the Time Eater had been forced to focus on the ones that seemed to be making a difference, the individuals or creatures that could stop or harm the Ventures.

And in doing so, the Spire was left hampered for the aftermath.

Liss picked the solitary man, guiding him up to the altar and presenting him with a few books. He took them hesitantly, but the moment they were in his hands he seemed more comfortable, clutching at them like a shield. He opened the first, finding a specific page to point out to Liss. Rather than taking the book back, she simply led him to the front, then speaks loud enough for everyone in the audience to hear.

“The Hallower gives strength to the weary, and stands by those who stand alone. This seems like an Ancient we could all use in our lives right now. Priest Malikai will lead us in song, so do your best to follow along.”

The man cleared his throat and began to sing. His voice was hoarse, and a little reedy, but as he found his place in the song it got stronger, and it became rapidly clear that it was a melody he knew by heart.

A few voices joined him, but it took three times through the song for the majority of the crowd to have enough of a grasp on the tune and the words to sing along. The song was humble and soft at first, the handful of voices giving it a lonely tune, but each voice that joined gave it depth, until the walls echoed and the sound of music rolled over us like ocean waves.

I waited until the fourth repetition to join in. I closed my eyes, sitting at the back of the stage, and knew that everyone could see me despite how I sat in the shadows. I did my best not to care, even as the sound of my voice doubled the sheer volume of the song and heads turned to look. My throat thrummed, powerful lungs driving air in and out, and the unique shape of my throat allowed me to sing in harmony with the lowest and highest tones at the same time. I had discovered this not long ago, and despite everything, despite my cumbersome body that I still wasn’t used to, my heart soared as I became a part of the song.

We sang, and sang, and when I opened my eyes again the man was crying. He stood at the head of the stage, letting the music wash over him and openly weeping, smiling, struggling to sing through the emotions that held him. Tears appeared in my own eyes, but I banished them with a blink, and allowed my power to flow through me, pushing it out and into the man. There was no Word, no twisting of fate and intent. Just my will, the song, and the desire of the humble priest.

The Ancient of Resurrection and Rebirth flared her power, and a light appeared on the altar.

We sang to the end of the verse as the light coalesced, and then sang through one more time. By the end, there was something round and green sitting on the stone, curled up in a ball, bright flowers sprouting over it.

The song ended, and Liss stepped forward, picking it up. The object uncurled, revealing a lizard-like creature, made from a dark soil and sprouting with grass and flowers. It blinked up at her, and she handed it to the man, who wiped his face and took it.

“This is your responsibility, now.” Liss told him, loud enough for the audience to hear. “Your faith is strong, and the New Hallower is young. Take him, care for him. Find others who need him and his strength, and share. Live as you believe, and he will grow strong, and be a foundation for something more.”

The man nodded, cheeks still wet with recently shed tears. He turned to the crowd of people, all different, skin and robes, signs and symbols, reasons for being here. All of who had sung with him.

“Thank you.” he said.

The small god in his arms squeaked, and he held it close.

–

Liss met me afterward, sitting next to me on the ledge that overlooked the Lower City. Her legs dangled, but she sat without fear, and together we watched the crowd of believers disperse back to their homes, several of them carrying their reborn faith with them.

“How are you doing?” She finally asked, and I knew what she was really asking.

I looked down, at the lights scattered below, and thought about it. The voices in my head–my voices, even if they spoke from the parts of me that hurt and raged and bargained–were silent for a few precious moments.

“I’m doing okay.” I said, and I meant it. There was still a long way to go, but I had a goal in mind now, and a friend. Despite it all, Liss had stuck by my side. Perhaps it was because I was useful, perhaps because she felt responsible for preventing me from returning to the loop again, but she was here regardless, helping me make amends.

“And how’s it going with…?” She glanced up at my broad back, and I smiled. She didn’t flinch anymore, despite the teeth.

I stretched the new appendages that attached just below my shoulders, and thin membranes glowed with the light passing through them, illuminating the veins and bones within. Still fresh, not yet usable, but every day I made them a little stronger, a little bigger. Wings, six of them, positioned down my back in pairs.

I would never wear my beautiful sapphire feathers again. The idea pained me, and some days I couldn’t move for missing them. But I had something else to look forward to, something that moved me each morning to try.

I would never have feathers again, but someday soon I would fly.

The End

[g0ttal0ve101]

Checkup

Note: YURI ATTACK!!! 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏳️‍🌈👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 tw: implications of ocd and verminphobic tendencies.

█████████████��██████

“How was it today?” Her calm voice reverberated in her skull, sweetening the once sour taste in Evelyn’s mouth. She always had a way of doing that. Setting down a cup of tea with her slender hand and sitting across the small table, the aura that surrounded her gave the environment a safer feel to it. Evelyn never felt safe. Especially not on days like these.

With trembling fingers fixing the tie on her ivy green bath robe, Evelyn made it painfully obvious how that day went. She dodged the young woman’s eyes by staring at the wood designs engraved in the table, evidently exhausted and struggling to keep her composure for much longer. Telling by the dark circles forming under her beautiful eyes and flourishing skin, there surely was an issue at hand.

Violet observed her for a while longer before throwing a few more words out, hoping for a better response. “I saw someone brought you some flowers to cheer you up. Who was it?”

Sniffling and dabbing her tearful eyes with the fabric of her robe, Evelyn returned to a squeaky mess as she was before. “Ah, those are from my dear friend Lucian. I’ve introduced you to each other before.”

“How could I forget?” She snickered with an undertone of sarcasm, knowing damn well she wouldn’t be able to forget how weird that kid was. Violet was familiar with the criminally insane but she could just tell something about that boy was off. Nevertheless, she knew that he was a good friend of Evelyn’s and did nothing for her to harbor harsh feelings toward him. Therefore, she continued with a pretty smile. “That was very kind of him. He even knows your favorite breed of flowers.”

Despite having a topic to latch onto and keep the conversation going, Evelyn’s replies were a bit stiff. “Y-Yes.”

Silence for a brief moment. Violet watched as she swallowed hard and tried not to break out in tears again, clearly holding something back that desperately needed release. She figured that if Lucian knew about it, then she could put together the pieces too.

“Evelyn, what’s the matter?” Violet’s mouth spoke one thing but her eyes conveyed everything she truly wanted to express. She was genuinely worried for Evelyn; she had seen how bad these breakdowns could get in the past, let alone now that she’s undergoing treatment to help her diagnosis. These panic attacks were no joking matter - Evelyn could seriously hurt herself or others if it really came down to it. That alone made Violet start to shudder. No one in their right mind would want to cross her path in that case.

Again, she didn’t received a proper response. Evelyn continued to dab away her tears and dodge Violet’s caring gaze, perhaps feeling some sort of shame due to the fact she had gotten so worked up again. The truth was, it hadn’t been this bad for a while. Under Violet’s guidance and care, she was able to minimally control her urges that sprung out throughout the day. However, her streak of normality had fallen short because of today’s incident, and it bothered her. It pissed her off more than it could make her sad.

Unable to put these feelings into words, she simply stumbled. “I need to cut my hair, it’s bothering me.”

But that’s not the root of the problem. This was just a silly solution that popped into her head because she was panicking. Violet was sure to snap her out of these intrusive thoughts as soon as she could.

“You don’t really want to cut your hair. That’s just one of your tendencies squeezing it’s way into your head again.”

With hoarse laughter and yet another sniffle, Evelyn had to agree. “I-I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t look feminine enough with it being so short…but I really want to. It’s just getting everywhere and getting tangled and-!”

Standing from her seat, Violet pulled the tie from her own hair and approached her girlfriend. Evelyn was a bit hesitant even considering the idea of sharing a hair tie with someone else. Then again, she trusted Violet enough to be clean and responsible with whatever belongings she possessed.

“Is it okay if I comb your hair out and pull it up? I think it would help you calm down.” Violet cooed. Considering they were in Evelyn’s bedroom, her girlfriend knew precisely where everything was, grabbing her hairbrush off the nearby vanity.

Shuddering from the sound of her tender voice, Evelyn couldn’t up but to agree in letting her do so. “Alright…but please don’t pull on it. I-I hate when my hair gets yanked.”

“Of course, love. I’ll be gentle.”

And with that, Evelyn could feel the strands of ‘messy’ hair being neatly resorted to its original - organized - position. Her throat was suddenly freed from the barbed wire restraining it and her lungs inhaled more air than ever. Violet truly was an expert at this. She knew exactly how to console Evelyn and precisely how to solve any sort of problem with her conditions. Then again, she shouldn’t have expected any less from a girl who was trained by a licensed psychologist.

Finally able to breathe again, Evelyn found herself more open to share what happened that day. “It was awful, Violet. Just awful.”

“Why is that?”

“Thomas Hall.”

Suddenly things made a whole lot more sense. Violet’s eyebrows furrowed as she persisted on brushing her luscious hair, already pissed off just from hearing that name falling from Evelyn’s lips. “What did he do this time?”

Evelyn fidgeted with the tie wrapped tightly around her waist once more while putting together the story. “He coughed on me. At least he pretended to. I told him to stop yelling at Sam and he started acting sick. I know he’s not ill and I know he simply did it because he knows of my condition. But even then, I can’t stop thinking about it.” She admitted with a frown, now completely detached from the situation of Violet touching her hair.

“Oh, I don’t blame you! That’s disgusting!”

“I’m glad I’m not totally crazy. I’ve been sitting in the bath for hours trying to scrub all the particles off of me and calm down, but I just can’t! Who does something like that?! Coughing on people, I mean seriously?! But I know he just wants to get to me. He does this to everyone. Whenever Sam tries to stand up to him, he blabbers on and on with suicide jokes or transphobia. Whenever Lucian tries, he starts rating sex positions and asking him for his ‘experienced’ opinions. I mean, he’s just an awful person.”

“He’s a manipulator is what he is,” Violet snapped harshly. It was almost scary to hear such a tone suddenly surface from her ordinary sweet facade. “He knows your weaknesses so he hits them. Don’t let it get to you, alright?”

Evelyn sniffled again as her loving girlfriend finished putting up all of the long hair she managed to grow for years on end, retreating back to her original chair. Now that she had a chance to talk about it, she felt much better. She even started sipping the tea that Violet made for her. It was still hot. Precisely two sugar cubes and a splash of creamer to even out the strong herb flavor that underlaid itself in the liquid. Violet had perfected it once again as she always did.

“Thank you, Violet.” She softly murmured, her eyes darting toward the direction of her girlfriend’s empty hand. The thought suddenly emerged inside her skull and she couldn’t get it to shake.

With a warm smile, Violet nodded happily. “Of course. You’ve improved so much since the last time you had a breakdown like this. You did very well.”

“I did?”

“Yes!”

“But I still sat in the bathtub for three hours,” she sheepishly muttered. It was almost shameful to even mention again.

“You didn’t harm anyone or yourself. That’s all that really matters, y’know?”

Finally gathering the courage to place her hand inside of Violet’s, Evelyn was sure to avoid speaking about it. Physical affection wasn’t her strong suit, especially considering she could barely hold her girlfriend’s hand without a glove. But she was doing it. She was doing it and she didn’t feel grossed out.

Violet blushed heavily and tried her hardest to avert her eyes from the scene. This wasn’t the first time Evelyn had touched her without a glove, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t rare. Gradually intertwining their fingers together, they both managed to laugh just a little bit. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to hold hands after all.

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Coincidental Disney Logo Trivia...

The current Disney logo celebrates the enterprise's 100th year of existence... It's a lovely, full-length intro full of neat stuff. A more ground-level tour than a pan down from a starry sky...

It first appeared, in full, before STRANGE WORLD in movie theaters this past autumn. They got the ball rolling early. The logo had also appeared - in cut-short form - in a handful of trailers at the time as well, like for the LITTLE MERMAID remake, ELEMENTAL, and the trailer for DISENCHANTED. D23 attendees were treated to it first before that...

STRANGE WORLD being the first film to bear the new logo, which will likely be used for another decade or so without the "100" next to "Disney", is curious... The film was a massive flop, and one that was largely left for dead by the company.

Wouldn't be the first time...

The first two pictures to introduce the iconic Walt Disney Pictures logo, that laid the groundwork for all logos thereafter, the very thing so many people associate with this company's movie library... Also flopped...

Those movies were... RETURN TO OZ and THE BLACK CAULDRON, both released a month apart from each other in the summer of 1985...

Believe it or not, the Disney studio never had a proper logo introduction for DECADES...

Early Disney cartoon shorts had title cards letting the audience know who the picture was coming from, which was par for the course for most shorts. Walt and Roy Disney had went through a few distributors during the late 1920s and 1930s, notably Celebrity Pictures, Columbia, and United Artists. When Walt was readying his first feature-length film, SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS, he struck a long-term distribution deal with RKO Radio Pictures. A long-defunct company, but back then a recognizable movie giant, up there with the likes of Paramount, Universal, and 20th Century Fox.

Disney films typically began with an RKO title card, not RKO's actual animated logo sequence depicting a blinking radio tower over a spinning globe. The title card would be stylized to fit with the credits sequence of whatever movie it was. For example, in PINOCCHIO, the RKO logo is carved into wood. For DUMBO, it's a circus poster-looking graphic. And so on, and so forth.

Walt and Roy then broke off from RKO, launching their own distribution company Buena Vista in 1953. Many of the Disney films released from 1954 to 1961, that were not leftover RKO-contract movies and shorts that were released well after the two parties parted ways, opened the same way. A Buena Vista title card that was stylized to look like the opening credits of the respective movie... But by the early 1960s, most Disney movies just used a standard blue gradient logo. This title card's general design layout would be used all the way up until 1984.

"Walt Disney presents" for films made before Walt's passing, and "Walt Disney Productions" for posthumous films, would be the next title card you saw after an RKO or Buena Vista logo. Walt Disney Productions became "Walt Disney Pictures", quietly, in 1983. The first film to be released as a "Walt Disney Pictures" movie was NEVER CRY WOLF. In that film, which is unfortunately a hard one to find, the first thing you see is a bar with serif text saying "Walt Disney Pictures". A title card. No official logo just yet.

Heck, the home video end of things had a logo before the film studio themselves did! Two logos at that!

Disney didn't release a new feature film in 1984 that was under the Disney name. SPLASH and COUNTRY came out in 1984, those were the first two pictures under the company's Touchstone Pictures banner, a banner meant for more adult-oriented films. Then-CEO Ron Miller founded Touchstone, and he'd be replaced by Michael Eisner by the end of the year. Following Eisner's arrival to the company, the rebrand went into full swing... The studio was officially renamed Walt Disney Pictures, the self-distribution company was still Buena Vista, as would be mentioned in a movie's end credits.

So, a new logo was in order...

The logo's first appearance, in short-form, was before a theatrical trailer for THE BLACK CAULDRON that ran in late 1984 before the theatrical re-release of PINOCCHIO. It is unknown if the longer logo preceded PINOCCHIO's opening credits for that re-release, if it did, then that would make it the 1984 Walt Disney Pictures logo.

Anyways, the first film audiences saw it before was RETURN TO OZ... But in short form, with no music!

A month later, THE BLACK CAULDRON came to theaters. It opened with the full logo, with the full 'When You Wish Upon a Star'-inspired jingle that everyone and their brother's dog knows...

Again, two movies that flopped. In fact, all of Disney's mainline 1985 movie releases that weren't Touchstone movies... Just didn't cut it at the box office. These two movies, THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN, ONE MAGIC CHRISTMAS... It wouldn't be until the summer 1986 releases of THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE and FLIGHT OF THE NAVIGATOR, two films bearing this logo that did well at the box office.

The revised version of this logo, with more digital-looking glowing light effects and animation, and the arch not overlapping with the "W" in "Walt"... First appeared before a test re-release of THE BLACK CAULDRON under the title TARAN AND THE MAGIC CAULDRON in January 1990, which didn't take off in the few cities it was screened in... Later, in July 1990, it accompanied a very successful re-release of THE JUNGLE BOOK. As for a "new" movie bearing the logo that did well? WHITE FANG, released in January 1991, did okay. It wouldn't be until BEAUTY AND THE BEAST later that year, though, in November... For a genuine big hit...

For this Disney 100 logo, it looks like LITTLE MERMAID will be the first box office success bearing this new logo. It's actually their first mainline Disney theatrical release since STRANGE WORLD... Everything else has been a Marvel movie (QUANTUMANIA, GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 3) or a 20th Century Studios/Searchlight movie (AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER, CHEVALIER).

Funnily enough, the first film to introduce the previous long-running CGI Disney castle logo?

Big hit. HUGE, record-breaking hit... That was PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST, from summer 2006...

Maybe when Disney makes a new logo to replace this one in, say, 2040-something... It'll be for a hit movie? I dunno, just something I noticed.

Logo stuff, ya know?

[royalreef]

@fullcfphobias​ || Continued from here.

      Her hands went to Oz’s arms with no further prodding — one curling around his elbow, the other curling around his upper arm, clinging on in an image of proper manners. Miranda was always good about that, nearly out of instinct from a life lived in the way that she had, practiced and refined until it was beyond thought. Her touch was always light but firm, careful with her claws, and she always walked a little too close than what was fully prompted. Miranda liked the touch of another, and she liked Oz, and these two things together made her clingy, which wasn’t so bad when she smiled like that, a little too dreamy.

      She doesn’t even act like being lured further into the school is anything out of the ordinary, and when Oz’s finger becomes the stately curves of an ornate key, all she does is lift her fins up and croon. It does fit what she knows, after all, though the peculiars are intriguing to her in their details. The design of the key captures her eye, in the same manner that she obsesses over cutlery and silverware and their make. Miranda knows better than anyone else how the different designs all come from different places, with distinct histories to them and sometimes distinct makers, and she can’t help but wonder if this is based off of some other key, or if Oz designed it specially. She’d have to ask him later, but there’s time for that. For now, the thought is stuffed away, tucked under a corner in her far-off mind while she steps inside after Oz.

       While Miranda’s stature doesn’t clue others in on it, Miranda does have an eye for height in architecture. It’s a product of her people, of living underwater, where depth matters just as much as any other dimension, and where traversing up and down is sometimes even easier than going from one side to the other.

       And that is the first thought that occurs to her, eyes opening a little wider and practically sparkling as she glances up and around, taking it all in. It does remind her a little of merfolk architecture, extending upwards and forever and bending off in impossible directions, Fibonacci spirals like the insides of seashells, great insides of some vascular system that left them at its heart, near-organic buildings that breathed in tune with her.

       Sure, the comparison wasn’t perfect. The stairs were the first thing that caught Miranda’s eye, as no finished mer building had anything of the like, assuming that its occupants could simply swim up to access the rest of the building. There were also more harsh edges, where her people preferred curves and curls, perfect surfaces without seams nor hard lines, as though every wall had been shaped as it always was, grown into form without needing to be placed and sealed together.

       But even it being so monochrome felt nearly homely to Miranda. Even short distances underwater lost a lot of light, and colors quickly became low in supply. It might have seemed odd, considering how bright of a pink Miranda was, how much of her seemed awash in colors like she was trying to bottle sunlight the moment it shone through seaspray, but to her people, to Miranda’s own family, colors were short in supply. An excess of them represented wealth, wealth the likes of which Miranda and the other Vanderbilts could afford, but so too did that mean they understood what it was like to be without. There were lights, and there were shadow, and these were familiar to Miranda’s mind. She was a deep-sea animal. It didn’t alarm her, not in the same way that those with an excess of light and color might be.

        Not even the presence of the other phobias seemed to alarm her, foremost because it reminded her of the palace, and how it nearly functioned as a city within a city. And, perhaps, there were other reasons too, why Miranda didn’t seem all too bothered by them, but she wasn’t mentioning that. It was better not to, and Miranda decided to not think about it as much as she could.

        “Ohhhhhh!!!!” Her fins flitted up to attention, fanning out, feather boas strapped to the sides of her head. Her eyes followed from one corner to another, catching on doorways and shelves, making her lean forward to try and see more detail, or angling her head straight up at the ceiling as though she could see into infinity. Even with how bad her eyes were, it was good that she physically couldn’t get dizzy. Though that didn’t help Oz, who had to see her lift her head up and turn her neck around and do other physical things with her body that looked concerning and nearly painful.

        “It is marvelous, Ozzy!!! Is that a commissioned vase, or did you buy it secondhand, and did you know the potter? What era and culture is it? How did you sort your books? Did you do any of the bindings yourself? How long have you been collecting?”

       She tugs on his arm again, and cranes her head up, and her grin is wild and full of abandon and awe, pupils gone wide and the sharp blue of her iris as endless as the ocean itself. Every now and then, without the harsh florescent lights or the sun, Oz can see little blue lights bloom across her face, flashing like freckles, like stardust left between her scales, like forget-me-nots.

                          “Give me the tour?? Please, pretty please, Ozzy????”

[saey707]

Loved the Lux one, thank you very much.

May I ask for another?

Gwen with an SO who makes clothes for her. (I forgot the name of the profession, the people who make clothes and such.)

Like dresses and other outfits, just really enjoys making these gifts for Gwen.

✿ Prompt: You are a tailor and love making Gwen clothes ✿

♡ champion focus: gwen ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: Hey again! I’m really happy that you like the last headcanons, they were fun to write ૮꒰⸝⸝>  ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა And super cute idea, I hope you enjoy what I have to offer ( ˘͈  ᵕ  ˘͈ ♡)

Gwen always loved to play dress-up. It would simply be an understatement if someone were to say she was a simple doll. If anything, the hallowed seamstress was regal. Her clothes always looked as if they were made of the finest materials, tailored to her length and form down to the perfect inch. Still, her clothes were snug, with enough space for her to dance around and bend beyond her will!

It was easy for her to glamorize herself in new clothes and fashion looks. She seemed to always pull off any look, no matter how ridiculous and outlandish they may be. Not only that, but she was skilled enough to take old fabric and alter them into new ones with so much as a few snips, a needle, and thread. But can the muse always be the tailor?

While Gwen had beyond the average capabilities to make her own clothes, it was always you who guided her in the right direction when it came down to the design. She was your muse, an apprentice even if you will, and you were her tailor.

She always feels like she learns the most from you, always interested in seeing the next amazing outfit you design.

And every single time she is equally as astounded when you offer a copy of the original to her, perfectly copied and tailored down to the perfect stitch to fit her doll-like figure.

"Oh, it's simply beautiful, my love! It charms me that you would give me this... I don't know any way in which I can repay you for your hard work, but I certainly know I will find a way, yes I will!"

You can be sure Gwen always finds a way to repay you, baking the most delicious desserts and pastries to share with you.

"Are you sure we should be eating this many cupcakes? I'll have to adjust the measurements if we keep doing this, Gwenny..." You query playfully to the delighted soul, entranced by the gentle giggle she released. "Always, love! There is nothing wrong with eating for pleasure~ Just like there is nothing wrong with dancing about, despite everyone watching!"

Her proper voice was like ringing bells in your ears, a cheery and delightful tone that always made your heart fill with passion. To know someone like Gwen, who was always delighted with your expressions of love through clothes... It was beyond anything you could ever expect in such a critical field.

You memorized her measurements by heart, always knowing the exact about of fabric you would need to utilize, the second, smaller bust you curated shrunken down to her measurements.

Of all the clothes you make for her, she is always drawn to your dresses; Every little detail you put into them is taken into account, and Gwen can see it with how focused you become. It's as if you put all your love and attention into each and every dress you design and craft.

And in a way, your doll wishes she had that kind of an attention span... You get work done so quickly!

"Another dress for me, darling?" Shocked, she pulled it up from the box, admiring it before excitedly hugging it close to her. "And it's in your favorite color~" "Hallowed blue!" Gwen finishes, happily laughing and yanking you into her arms to offer a tight hug.

Every single time you watch her spin and dance about in your designs, you can't help but love her more and more. While her movements closely resembled a puppet being pulled around on strings, that just added to all the more reason why you couldn't help but adore her.

"May I have this dance, love~?" She asks, holding her hand out to you, delighted with the bright red hue that floods against your cheeks. "You may, my doll..." You muse. And, spinning her into your hold, you would be sure to lead well in your little dance with her.

[blucifer08]

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Sharp sounds of metal upon metal piercing the eardrum as hammer slams down upon ingot and molds it into the shape Erasmia desires. There had perhaps been a time where this might have bothered her, irritated her, but this is no more.

Metal is the one thing Erasmia feels able to control. A little bit of aether produced enough heat to rend it to dough in her hands. She uses tools of her own design to refine and sharpen them. Once a blade is finished, it is only time to carve the designs inside.

Erasmia has her own special way of forging weapons. Others of her kind may use their aether to simply will a weapon into existence should they need it. These would work fine enough, for most people it is not hard to conjure a blade sharp enough to cut through muscle and skin.

But Erasmia's weapons are different.

It took years of practice. She'd created mountains of weapons, sitting and collecting dust as proof of her failures, only returned to the aether from which they came when she was simply out of room to hoard more. 

Erasmia has poor control of creation Magicks generally. If she were to create a blade from her mind directly, it would likely be a weak, misshapen sword. However, if she simply formed those metals required and knocked them into shape herself–the weapon would turn out fine. Over time she began to be able to create small things. Her ability to create is very closely linked with size. 

And to give her an edge, she began weaving crystals into the metal of her weaponry. Tiny, miniscule crystals holding her fiery red aether. This made the forging process incredibly slow. Create a crystal, hammer it into place, create raw metal, hammer it into place, all in tiny incremental parts.

This was, however, far from the end of the process. Once she has completed a blade in its entirety, Erasmia uses various picks and chiseling tools to engrave the blade with designs. The design would vary from weapon to weapon and often depended on her mood, but on display on her smithery now were three weapons.

An axe with a blade the size of two heads, engraved with sharp teeth at the top and bottom. Between the teeth she engraved a castle with spiraling towers reaching up towards a blank sky. To the right of the axe hangs a scythe. Along the blade rabbits hip through fields of flowers. They begin from the left-most side of the blade. As they progress towards the right, the rabbits become smaller. Weaker. Until the last rabbit is dead, collapsed amongst petals and grass.

The last weapon's design is unfinished. A pair of knives with large, curved blades. On the left blade is an eyeball belonging to some kind of beast, but with no detail, it is yet unclear.

She's abandoned those.

For now she hammers a sword. For what end, she is unsure. She only pauses when the smithery door opens, casting a bright light onto Erasmia's red eyes. 

"Hey. Someone's here to talk to us." A delicate voice speaks. After Erasmia's eyes adjust she recognizes the form of her sister. A tall woman with straight, well-kept hair. Erasmia shares the same shade of pitch black, but hers sprawls it in multiple directions in untameable chaos. Conversely, her sister Tari has managed to tame hers.

"Who?" Erasmia asks, setting her hammer down on a counter before herself.

"I think you should just come see for yourself. Not that I think you'll have much to say to her. Put back on your proper robes before returning to the main house." Tari turns on her heel and exits.

[survivoirs]

Send 👄to put something in my muse’s mouth.

Even the Lord of the Dreaming slept. He dreamt and dreams who wished to visit him while he rested could entertain his sleeping mind with wonder. The opposite could be said of Nightmares but very few ever dared to take that liberty with them without the Endless’ prior request. The Corinthian didn’t seem to think rules of any sorts, even simply the ones for respect, applied to him at all.

While Morpheus had fallen asleep in the safety of his bed, he now found himself back in the Burgess basement inside of the seal that had held him. Only this time, instead of being inside a glass orb, he was seated on his own throne. It was a confusing mix as he looked around slowly. There was no glass to contain him all they had to do was — their body felt sluggish although he had no physical restraints on them. Morpheus made a sound in struggle before he noticed the Corinthian leaning against the wall opposite. Waiting.

The Endless slowly lifted his hand as the Nightmare approached and tried to grab at the other’s shirt as the Corinthian sat down on the arm of his throne to their left. The Nightmare looked down at him with all three of his mouths grinning while he took the raised hand and gently pushed it back down. Morpheus struggled to make words form on their lips and the Nightmare rose a finger to their lips while shushing him gently. None of this made sense to the Endless. The circle shouldn’t be making him feel this sluggish. Shouldn’t affect their speech. 

The hand near his mouth shifted to suddenly grip at Morpheus’ jaw. With the other, the Nightmare produced an eyeball from his pocket, held by the end of the ocular nerve from his fingertips. It wasn’t until the man used the heel of his palm to tilt Dream’s head back and fingers digging into just above his jaw to force their mouth open a bit that he understood what the Corinthian was after. Morpheus’ brow furrowed and he tried to stand up, hand gripping at the other arm of the chair. He could taste the metallic tang in the air of blood that still coated parts of the eye just before it came into contact with his parted lips. 

“Corinthian...” Morpheus was finally able to whisper out. “Shush. My Lord. Give it a taste,” the Nightmare hushed, pressing it forward as the Endless let his mouth open more. Dreams were strange like that. Like there were bits one could control just a little while still staying on the path of what was happening. This was a dream. The thought just now hit them. It could be so difficult to tell one was dreaming, even for Morpheus. Both dreams and nightmares were designed to be that way.

As soon as the eyeball and nerve had fully passed the Dreamlord’s lips, the Corinthian pressed his hand over their mouth to make sure Dream couldn’t spit it back out. This was his dream but not one of his making, as such Morpheus had a hard time holding proper control over their own actions. As if he were just a part of a story unfolding. Dark hair was brushed out of his eyes by the Nightmare’s fingers before they curled in, gripping tightly there as the hand over his mouth squeezed lightly as a silent warning. This was just a dream. Morpheus began to chew. Vitreous fluid spilled out onto his tongue, mixing with the blood already there. Dream expected it to taste horrid but there was a sweetness he couldn’t quite place. It didn’t taste like anything they would have thought for what it was. Dream or not. When he swallowed, The Corinthian released their hair and pushed his head back before standing. 

Dream felt off, feeling thoughts and memories beginning to twirl through his mind. He saw a walk being taken on a sunny day. A hand out holding onto a leash that a fluffy black dog was attached to chewing on a stick at a grassy park. He saw fingers tapping against a steering wheel while being stuck in traffic. Fingers adjusting the radio station. The music was lively and they felt it through their body. The music shifted. Memories shifting to some sort of club. Sweaty bodies. People dancing. Laughing. Drinking. This was just a dream, the flashes of memories were so brief, so quick, not like the real thing even if they had been someone the Corinthian had -- sampled himself. Dream let his head fall into his hand as the memories shifted again. A smiling face and a pair of dark sunglasses. Dream didn’t just feel like they were simply watching snapshots. He felt some of it. The way this young man’s heart had raced as the handsome blond man across from him had complimented his eyes. The way his hand felt warm when he’d taken it to pull him deeper into throng of people. Another shift. Another memory. Up close on the Corinthian’s face. Easy words falling off the Nightmare’s lips. They weren’t at the club anymore. An apartment? Gaze dropping down and back up the Nightmare’s body as clothes were removed. As more followed. Dream felt like he was spying on an intimate, private moment. Like they shouldn’t be there but couldn’t turn it off. His heart was racing. A part of him didn’t want to look away either. Seeing the Corinthian like that was---something else. Another shift. Heart racing again, but out of fear this time. The point of view of someone being held down and -- well Morpheus could tell when the eye he’d consumed stopped seeing with a sickening squelch. His fear felt so real he wanted it to stop. 

And he could. Remembering who they were, what they could do. His fist smacked down on the arm of his throne. “ENOUGH.”

And he awoke. Morpheus sat up quickly in his bed, panting softly, their brow beaded with sweat. Dark silk sheets slid down his form to pool over his lower half just enough to keep him decent. The Endless looked around his chambers with residual panic in his eyes before he found the Nightmare leaning against the wall with an amused look on his face. “That -- that was not funny, Corinthian.” They dropped their head into their hands for a moment. “You dare...”

@nightmarecountry​ 

[psijic-toast]

FFXIVwrite 16: Deiform

Ao3 link if you want it

“There’s another one”

Wren barely glanced up at Biggs, mind focused on the task in front of him. The machine he worked on was a new design, one that would hopefully help infuse barren earth with aether, allowing for an increased crop yield. He still needed to run a proper test, and for that he needed to find someplace with a sufficient amount of earth-aspected aether to charge it with. The 789th Order had offered their stockpile of crystals in exchange for one of the first working prototypes-

“Wren, I need you listening”

“Who is it this time?” He sighed, laying down his tools. He turned to look up at the man who was technically his boss, at least until Cid and Nero came out of their calculation induced stupor.

Biggs answered him with silence, and Wren understood. The over-grim mood suddenly made sense.

Someone had summoned a twisted, primal form of his dear friend once more.

“Where is it?”

“Coerthas”

-------

It was an expected outcome, following the 8th umbral calamity, that primal summoning would increase tenfold. They had seen it happen with the 7th, when the land had at least healed from the fallout, even if the people hadn’t. But now aether was sparse, made stagnant by Black Rose, robbing the survivors almost everything; resources, family, hope.

It wasn’t a surprise when people began to summon the embodiment of hope itself.

The Warrior of Light came back to them many times, deiform versions brought forth by those desperate for protection. Beryl had once expressed an odd appreciation for the creativity put in, when they had been on the hunt for one in Eastern Thanalan. She had tried cataloguing each of them, coming up with her own names for each.

‘The Warrior of flowers’ was one of the first, brought forth in the Shroud. It could only be described as a mix of the Warrior and Nophica. Horns resembling a ram’s curled from each side of its head, layers and layers of petals formed its scales. A staff of twisted willow boughs was clutched lightly in its hand, strung with blooming vines to double as a bow. It had spoken of peace at first, welcoming them to its wood, but soon turned hostile at first mention of it draining the land of aether. Wren still sported the scar of its arrows, which hurt almost as much as the act of slaying it. its face had bared the most resemblance to his friend - it was hard to separate the two in his mind's eye.

Another, simply dubbed as ‘The Warrior’ had been in Thanalan, brought forth by desires of survival and vengeance. It resembled Odin in a way, adorned in bark armour and scales of iron. The primal’s features were sharper, stronger than the real person, with eyes of burning amber rather than mismatched cool blue. It summoned endless blades to its side, effortlessly switching between swords, axes, daggers, lances and chakrams. It had fought hard and well - killed two of their fellows, cutting the number of those blessed with the echo in half.

‘The Moonlit Warrior’ wandered the crystal encrusted wilds of Mor Dhona, protecting travellers between the hours of dusk and dawn. The summoner had clearly taken inspiration from the early literature -and wanted posters- of the actual Warrior, the primal taking on a Miqo’te like appearance as opposed to Au Ra.

The most heartbreaking was ‘Taraxia’. One day another sylph accompanied Moraxio; one dressed in autumnal colours, head leaves fashioned into two pigtails. Few questioned it, just appreciated the extra set of hands. Or they did, until it was noticeable that what little of the ambient aether remained was slowly trickling away. Poor Moraxio had been heartbroken.

Wren wondered what Beryl would name this one, staring him down now. It seemed more draconic in nature, horns and tail large and exaggerated, legs digitigrade. It held a large greatsword in front of it, blade plunged into the ground, as though standing vigil over its summoners - a small group of ex-heretics, all cowering around a dying campfire.

'The Dragon Warrior' or 'The Daughter of Shiva' she spoke in the back of his mind, voice akin to the wind that threatened to knock him over. With a grunt, he brushed the thought off - she would just have to decide when he described it to her. There was little reason to distract himself with it now.

He drew his gunblade, as the primal lifted its sword.

"You shall not harm them"

"I mean them no harm" He checked the cartridges, spinning the cylinder to ensure it was full.

"And yet you draw your weapon"

"I mean them no harm. But you will go no further”