#two dots title theme

[one-last-puku]

☆ Two Dots title theme goes hard, I love it more than a title theme for a basic phone game should have deserved. ☆

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Do Ya Wanna Taste It?

Eddie Munson/Reader

Summary:Eddie gets the chance to spend some time with the girl of his dreams and treats her just how she deserves to be treated.

Warnings:18+, Smut, Kissing, Body Worship, Teasing, Oral Sex (F recieving), Fingering, Nothing else that I can think of (unless you wanna shoot me a message to say I missed something) 

Word Count:822 

Authour’s note:This was my first time writing something spicy with Eddie Munson in mind, and basically I’m just pulling this from my AO3 account and posting it here too. And yes I’m using the Peacemaker theme tune as a title for this fic you can’t tell me what to do

Laying on your back against his bed, you feel the press of his soft lips pressing against yours, tongues tangling together. His large hands cradling your head, his long fingers working their way to weave in your hair.

Slowly you pulled away from him as he chased your lips for one final taste before you broke the silence.

“Y’know you are just full of surprises, aren’t ‘ya Munson?”

“Oh Baby, you have no idea.” Eddie chuckled as he continued to kiss his way down your body.

If it’s one thing that Eddie loves (well really it’s two things, but the best things, as he’s told you many times before,come in pairs) it’s your tits.

As Eddie gently places tender kisses all over your breasts, his pink tongue darts out to slowly drag its way around one of your nipples. Teasing the bud into a hardened peak before he wraps his lips around it and sucks it into the warm heat of his mouth. All the while, with his large calloused hands, he holds the weight of your other breast in his other hand using his skilled guitarists fingers to pluck and pinch your other nipple.

Suddenly you feel his lips descend lower down your body, whilst still placing kisses on any and all exposed soft skin that he could find.

Soon you felt the graze of his teeth nipping at the elastic waist of your yellow and black polka dot patterned cotton panties.

“Gotta say babe, these cute little panties of your are really doing it for me, they’re so sexy” Eddie smirked as his lips placed kisses along your inner thigh

You felt your face heat up with embarrassment, giggling behind your hands.

Lifting your hips up, so that Eddie could hook his fingers into your panties and drag them down your legs. You didn’t miss how he tucked your panties into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Just keeping them for later, baby, I hope you don’t mind” he winked at you.

The thought of Eddie being by himself in his trailer bedroom lining his fist with your underwear as he works over himself is something you’ll be keeping in mind for when you're alone as well.

“There she is, my pretty girl” he all but almost purred out as he was greeted by the sight of your exposed pussy.

Leaning forward, Eddie anchored his arms under your legs to throw them over his shoulders. His tongue darts out to briefly wet his lips, giving you a moment to gather your thoughts, before his tongue licks a long slow stripe along your pussy.

Eddie prided himself in his oral skills, and he delighted in showing off his talents to you any chance he would get.

He absolutely loved having his tongue buried in your pretty pussy, drinking in your sweet juices. He was teasing one single finger inside your tight wet heat, pushing until he could feel that soft spot inside you that had your squirming on his bed. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he gave it a few quick flicks of his tongue before going back and sucking it between his pink lips

Whether he realised it or not, the sounds of your delicious whimpers, had his hips grinding into his mattress in a futile attempt to relieve some of the pressure of the growing hardness in jeans.

Your hands that had previously been grasping at the sheets of Eddie’s bed, somewhere down the line, had found their way to tangle in Eddie’s mess of curls. Tugging the soft strands between your fingers as he continued to slip another finger inside you, and press into your sweet spot.

The knot in the pit of your lower stomach was tightening even more, as you rocked your hips against your boyfriend's face.

“You taste so good, babe” he slurred out against your wet heat.

With Eddie’s constant stimulation on your pussy, it didn’t take you very long before the knot in the pit of your stomach finally snapped as you rode out your high, hands tugging deep in your boyfriends as your hips thrashed against his face. Placing his hands on your lower stomach, Eddie drank down everything that your sweet pussy would give him, slurping up your release.

With you gasping for breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Eddie came to lie next to you, holding you in his arms on his bed.

“Wait...what about you? Isn’t it my turn to go down on you now?” you teased with a laugh.

“Oh we don’t have to worry about that, right now. I actually kind of already came.” he shyly admitted with a blush. “You know I always love eating your pussy, babe. I guess it just gets me going.” he smiled.

“Okay, but as soon as your good to go again, I am so going to ruin you, Munson, just you wait”

“Can’t wait, babe.”

[themesbypale]

Do-Re-Mi Theme

by Themes By Pale (or Palemomos Themes)

Live Preview | Static Preview 1 | Install with Theme Garden | Code | Guide 

Hi! I know nobody asked for this but here is the revamp of my old theme “Magical DoReMi” that is inspired in the anime “Ojamajo Doremi”. The theme comes with new cool customization features and more improvments.

General Features:

Responsive: looks good in all screen sizes.

Navigation Menu is the first Magical Tap from Ojamajo Doremi, if you hover the circle buttons with the cursor an icon will appear.

Custom Background: it can be an image or color, and you can change the repeat behaviour, position and size of the background.

Customization for all colors on the theme!

Choose custom icons for the menu.

Make the icons stay always visible.

Rainbow effect tittle (you can disable it).

Choose between seven cute fonts, and you can choose a different font for the title and for the posts.

Change fonts sizes.

Four custom links (in the menu).

Nice musical cursor (you can disable it).

Choose between one or two columns layout.

Popup window with a mini about section and a infinite tags and links list.

Search Tab.

And more! Check out the customization guide.

Notes

If you don’t add an image in the popup the text will just adapt.

In mobile version the tap will position on the top of the page, and the icons will be shown by default.

I’ll try to upload this theme to the Theme Garden, hope it gets approved! Meanwhile you can install it with the code.

Credits

Basecode by @seyche

All icons are from cappuccicons.com by @suiomi

Lovely multicolor dots border made by my friend Daniel Dorantes

NPF posts support by @glenthemes

Full list of credits in the code.

If you have any questions or something is not working well please send me a message.

And if you like this theme please reblog and like! :)

PS: More new themes and revamps are coming finally!

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Infestation.

Written for a lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Gyutaro x Reader (Demon Slayer).

Word Count: 3.5k.

TW: Modern AU, Implied Non//Con, Long-Term Stalking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Voyueristic Themes, Blood/Bruising, and Mentions of Cannibalism.

You only got to tour the apartment once before you signed the lease.

A ‘realtor’ with piercing eyes and silver hair met you at the door twenty minutes late with a heavy ring of keys in one hand and a disposable cup from an upscale coffee-chain in the other, muttering something about traffic as she let you into the dank, dark space. She explained, as she shoved open creaking doors and tried her best to clear the dust off neglected furniture, that her uncle owned the building, that she and her brother had stayed here for a while before she found another place on the other side of town. You asked if her family was close-nit, and she looked away, mumbling ‘something like that’ under her breath. You asked if she did this kind of thing for her uncle often, and she gave you a strange look and didn’t answer. You didn’t have the courage to press the topic. She had the kind of presence that made you want to shrink into yourself, to agree with everything she said and do anything and everything you could not to get on her nerves. If, at any point, she’d put a contract in front of you and told you to sign on the dotted line, you probably would’ve done it. If the apartment hadn’t been in the state it was, you probably would’ve asked her for it yourself, just to try and get on her good side.

The space itself was, somehow, even worse than the listing had made it out to be. The lights flickered, the walls were water-stained, and you couldn’t fully open the fridge door without lodging the handle against the cabinets on the opposite side of the kitchen. If you hadn’t been so desperate, you might’ve walked out in the first fifteen minutes, but you were, so you held your tongue and nodded along and let her sit you down in front of a manilla folder, already plotting out how you’d politely refuse and thank her for her time and beg the owner of the studio a few blocks north to give you another chance. That was what you thought you were going to do, at least, until you saw the rent.

“That’s… not what it was on the listing,” you muttered.

“That’s the rate. Take it or leave it.”

“Without utilities?”

“With. But you’re on your own if you want cable.”

“When would I be able to move in?”

“If you can get me out of here in an hour or less, whenever the hell you want.”

You signed everything she put in front of you, barely bothering to pretend to read the countless forms. She left you the keys, apologized for how loud the other tenants could be (something that must’ve changed since she moved out, you guessed – the entire floor was dead quiet), and in two days, your former roommates had sent you off with a tearful goodbye and, for the first time in longer than you could remember, you finally had room to breathe. A musky, beige room that you were pretty sure you’d have to have fumed sooner or later, but still – room to breathe.

And you were thankful for it. At first, at least, you were thankful for it.

~

And then, three months in, things started to go missing.

Which wasn’t that bad, on its own. You’d lost things before, and you weren’t the kind of person who’d break out the salt and thyme the first time one of your socks went missing, or you couldn’t find a pen you just seen a few days ago, or a mug you could’ve sworn you’d left on your bedside table the night before somehow made its way to your kitchen counter by the next morning, its contents drained but its clay handle still warm. You took it in stride.  You laughed and smiled as you told your friends about the soft creaking you would sometimes hear coming from just behind drywall, the creepy stains on the bathroom floor that just barely look like dried blood when you squint, and you ignored what you couldn’t brush off so easily, kept the hours you spent lying awake at night because you just can’t shake the feeling of unblinking eyes prying into your flesh, the bruises and cuts you’ve decided to blame on thin mattresses and sharp corners to yourself.

You didn’t tell anyone when your missing things started reappearing, either.

Not that you really could. You didn’t know how you’d start to explain the cold feeling of dread that knotted in your chest as you lingered in the doorway to your bedroom, how to laugh as you told someone, anyone about the tattered remains of a shirt you hadn’t seen in weeks that were currently spread across your bed – all ripped to shreds and stained with the same chalky, white substance you couldn’t bring yourself to give a name to. It was all you could do to stare at the mess from a distance, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to ignore the bitter taste rising up from the back of your throat. Your closest neighbor was two floors down, and you’d only spoken a handful of words to the building’s other occupants as a whole, but still, half-formed fears of faceless stalkers and angered spirits gnawed at the back of your mind. It was probably--

Mice, you decided. It was probably mice. You didn’t know what an infestation looked like, never had to deal with one before, but for what you were paying for a place like this, there were bound to be mice. That’s all it could’ve been. Cute, harmless mice.

Still, you never found it in yourself to tell anyone about your little infestation.  

~

And then, seven months in, the realtor let herself into your apartment.

It was a small miracle that you’d been awake at the time, that you were buried in a small mountain’s worth of blankets on your worn-out couch, reading some mindless contemporary romance when you heard the lock click, when you saw the same young woman who’d shown you around that first day step over the threshold – her expression one of mild annoyance and more than a trace of exasperation. She didn’t seem to notice you, not at first, not until you cleared your throat, sitting up in a half-hearted effort to make yourself more presentable. You tried to think of something to say, to ask if there was an emergency, but instead, made that much meeker and that much smaller by her aura alone, you just found yourself mumbling, “Can I help you?”

Her eyes widened as she shot to face you, her shock apparent. “You’re still here?”

“…yes?” Were you not supposed to be? You weren’t sure how long your lease was supposed to last, hadn’t talked to the landlord beyond a single, minute-long call when you first signed on. You’d been paying your rent, but still, there might’ve been a notice that you missed, a clause that’d slipped your mind. You didn’t know why the landlord would choose to address that by asking his niece to barge into your apartment in the middle of the night, but the panic remained. “Is something wrong?”

Her lips quirked, something coming across her features that you weren’t able to read in the dim light. “You’ve been away, though, right? On vacation? Staying at a friend’s house?”

“No, I… Was I supposed to be?” You pushed yourself to your feet. “Is there something wrong with the building?”

“The building’s not the fucking problem,” she snapped. You recoiled, but she didn’t seem to care, just letting out an irritated groan as she went on. “He knows he’s not supposed to take this long. Muzan’s going to be—” She cut herself off, throwing her head back and rubbing her temples. She clenched her eyes shut, and only when she opened them again did she seem to notice your discomfort, your muted distress. Just as quickly as she lost her composure, she regained it, her sneer softening into a small smile and her posture straightening until she looked not like a woman who’d walked into someone else’s apartment with no warning or explanation, but a passing acquaintance you’d been the one to approach and who was simply too polite to tell you that she had better places to be. “My apologies for the disturbance. I’ll make sure to call ahead, next time.”

She waited for you to nod, to pretend you knew what she was talking about before starting back toward the door, leaving just as suddenly as she’d come. Without giving yourself time to think, you rushed after her, leaning against the doorframe. You couldn’t imagine how she’d gotten here. The lights hadn’t worked since the day you moved in, and the hallway was as pitch-black and as endless as it’d ever been. “Wait!” She glanced over her shoulder, her smile already strained. You drew back, but forced yourself to go on. “It’s not a big deal, but I think this building might have a rat problem.”

She took a moment to respond.

Finally, as her grin broadened, she said, “There aren’t any rats.”

That night, you woke up screaming, covered in your own blood, and missing a piece of your thigh.

~

And then, a year after you first set foot in that godforsaken apartment, you met him.

‘Met’ might’ve been the wrong word. It implied something soft, something cute, something harmless – like mice or ghost stories or miscommunications. From the moment you snapped awake, a searing pain in your shoulder and hot blood already drenching your chest, he was all aggression, all bared teeth and dark eyes and gore-soaked lips curling back into a smile just as sickening as that of the woman who had to be his sister, if only because you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that your misery extended beyond the reach of their fucked-up family.

You couldn’t bring yourself to believe this was happening at all, but if you had to, you were going to tell yourself you had someone, other than yourself, to blame.

He was on top of you, straddling your waist, one hand planted next to your head and the other curled loosely around your throat, his palm pressing the delicate junction between your windpipe and diaphragm, making it difficult to manage anything but quick, shallow breaths. He’d never been this close before. You’d seen him out of the corner of your eye, occasionally – little, half-remembered blurs in the darkness; distorted splotches you’d tried to write off as depressions in the drywall or a trick of your own paranoia-ridden mind – but never like this, never close enough to see the muddled whites of his eyes, the pale grey tenor of his skin, the sharpened points of his teeth where your blood didn’t quite blot them out. On instinct, you tried to sit up, to bolt from underneath him, but he only had to flex his hand where it was wrapped around your neck and you were frozen, not willing to test his patience or your own perseverance. You didn’t know if he was strong enough to snap your neck, but he’d already proven that he could tear you apart. If he hadn’t already decided he was going to eat you alive, you’d rather not do anything to put the idea in his head.

You did what you could to go limp, to seem as small and unimposing as possible, and yet, he still let out a breathy chuckle as he shoved you downward – until your back was flat against the mattress and he was allowed to hover as far above you as possible, casting himself as something endlessly strong and impossible to grasp and impossible to escape as anything else that lurked in the dark.

“Easy, now. Wouldn’t want to get yourself hurt, would ya?” His voice was as terrible as the rest of him, raspy and barely audible yet dripping with corrosive, acidic arrogance at the same time. “It’d be a shame if you made be bruise that pretty skin. Loses some of its flavor if you beat it up too much.”

So he was going to eat you. You couldn’t pretend to be surprised, couldn’t say a nightmare featuring fanged monsters with hungry mouths hadn’t accompanied every new missing chunk of flesh and discolored bitemark, but your breath still hitched in your throat, your body going tense beneath him. Your distress was muted, but not subtle enough to escape his prying eyes. His grin widened, the corners of his lips cracking and splitting open. “You scared, little mouse?”

You hesitated, thinking for a moment before nodding. There was a bark of a laugh, a row of blunt nails burrowed into the space just below your jugular. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?” He asked, arching his back and leaning toward you, coming close enough for the tips of his messy hair to brush against your skin. “Tear you apart? Gut you and keep your hollowed-out husk as a trophy?”

There wasn’t a delay, this time. It was all you could do to wait until he’d finished to spit out the one thing you couldn’t seem to get off your mind. “Eat me.”

There was a long pause, agonizing and infinite.

Then, something sparked behind his eyes, and his smile took on a sickening lilt.

You could practically hear your heart beating out of your check, feel something deep in your chest twist and writhe as he dipped even lower; his face soon buried in the small of your neck. His hand fell away, drifting lower – his fingertips skirting over your side, groping softly at your hip before drifting to your wrist, to your hand. There was a clumsy attempt made to intertwine his fingers with yours, not helped by your own unchallenged immobility, but eventually, he managed to take your hand in his own. His skin was cold to the touch, and yet, you still felt like you were burning wherever his body pressed against yours. “No, no, I’m not gonna do anything to hurt ya. Not that badly, at least.” His voice lightened, his drawl softening around the edges. Like he was trying to calm you down. Like he thought anything he said could possibly calm you down. “I don’t have the stomach to binge like that. The last guy Daki dragged in wasn’t like you. All muscle, no flavor, had to choke down every bite. I would’ve swallowed you whole as soon as you as walked through that door just to get the taste out of my mouth, but you looked so damn cute, all oblivious and shit – I just didn’t have the heart to.”

 He straightened his back, but didn’t pull away. Rather, he stayed as close to you as possible, his scarred lips brushing against your neck, then your shoulder, finally settling on your collarbone. He couldn’t be human. You didn’t decide that, you knew it. Nothing human or mortal or natural would have so many scars, or be so pale, or have teeth so sharp – even the gentlest touches violent enough to break the skin. Not that he tried very hard to be gentle. There was the faint feeling of rough lips ghosting over your skin, and then a sharp, sudden piercing sensation; flesh and muscle splitting apart underneath the first hint of pressure. “Not that I didn’t want to,” he muttered, his breath cold against your skin. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had a decent fucking meal? If I had my sister’s self-restraint, I’d already be down to the bones.”

And yet, he didn’t stop himself from latching onto the shallow scrape, his tongue running over your skin as he let out a deep, guttural moan, the sound only slightly stifled by his proximity. You held your breath, clenching your eyes shut as he lapped up the thin trail of blood that flowed outward, over your chest. Visions of hearts torn from chests and pale hands digging through split-open stomachs flitted through your mind, but in the end, he only jerked back was a sharp laugh – more lively than it’d ever been before. There was a certain light to his eyes now, too, a new sense of rejuvenation you almost couldn’t bring yourself to recognize in the same creature who’d stalked you for months, who’d knocked on your walls and watched you at night and given you so many chances to run away, so many chances that you’d been too hopeful and too idiotic to take. You felt him shifting above you, heard your sheets rustle, and you braced yourself, going stiff in preparation for a pointed nail stabbed into your throat, or a skull-crushing blow to your head, or--

Or, for him, it, whatever he was, to kiss you.

You hadn’t known to expect it would be as brutal as it was. What little delicacy, what little gentleness he had was gone. For longer than seemed possible, your world was one of clashing teeth and probing hands and lips pushed against yours with enough force to bruise. You didn’t know whether or not he was trying to scare you, but the gesture was more violent than affectionate – messy and overwhelming and enough to have you on the edge of tears by the time he drew back, panting. He opened his mouth, but you were already talking, words spilling from your lips without reservation. Appeals to ‘please, don’t hurt me’ blurring with an incoherent blend of ‘don’t kill me’ and ‘I’ll do anything’ – anything you could think of, anything that might’ve gotten him to give you the space to breathe. Some of it made sense, most of it didn’t, and all of it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

If he was listening, if he cared, none of it earned anything more than a wry smile, a soft kiss to the top of your head. At that point, you were so desperate, so distressed, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into it – only whimpering as he hummed gently and drew you upward, until you were the one sitting in his lap, cradled in his arms. It occurred to you, not for the first time, how much bigger his frame was than yours, how small you felt in his arms. Like a bird with an injured wing, unable to fly and trapped in.

Like a mouse, your neck already snapped by the impartial hammer and your body caught in the maw of something much larger and much more dangerous than yourself.

“You’re shaking.” He was laughing, but you were. You couldn’t stop. Your body refused to listen to you, to push him away, to run, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from shivering – trembling violently enough for it to border on convulsions. “What’d I tell you the first time you freaked out, huh?”

That he liked the way you tasted. That he’d been watching you for months. That he’d thought about killing you and, if he got hungry enough, he’d probably think about it again.

You swallowed, willing the knot of dread at the back of your throat to loosen. “That you weren’t going to hurt me.”

“And you don’t think I’d lie to you, do ya?”

It would’ve been kinder if he did, if he pretended to be something remotely human. “I don’t.”

“Because I haven’t, and I’m not. That’d just be a waste, 'specially when I haven’t gotten half of what I want out of ya, yet.” You were dragged away from his chest, poised to face him. You were given a few seconds to stare up at him through the darkness, to try to begin to process what was happening, what he was doing, before a scarred palm was cupping your cheek, before he was kissing you, again – shallowly, fleetingly, before moving upward, pressing his lips against your forehead and dipping back toward your neck.

This time, he wasn’t content just to content just to hold your hand. You could feel his fingertips skirting over your thighs, leaving strips of numbness spreading across whatever he made contact with, making an attempt at delicacy before his attention drifted and his touch grew rougher, his hold bruising, his skin frigid where it pressed against yours. Against your better judgement, you leaned into your paralysis, not returning his bizarre affection, but making no effort to push him away, either. You tried to hold yourself straight, but not stiff, to keep your eyes open and your jaw locked into place, but even your neutrality was enough to encourage him, to spur him forward. You barely had time to brace yourself before you were being shoved downward once again, before you were being pinned against your own thin mattress with enough force for the jutting springs to dig into your back. Again, he was above you, and again, you were powerless beneath him, just as scared as you’d been when he was just a ghost of fear lurking in your peripheral.

“Don’t worry, little mouse.”

Just as helpless as you’d been when you couldn't see the threat at all.

“I’m takin’ care of you, now.”

[priestessame]

The Emperor's most Favoured

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥

Emperor Zhongli x Bride reader

°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.-> 🎀 ! AFAB Virgin reader! °·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.-> 🎀

Warnings: Oral (receiving), zhongli has a corruption kink, themes of purity, hybrid Zhongli (he has horns), fingering, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, dirty talk, overstymulation, power play. Minors DNI !

Summary: The emperor of Leiyue really dots on his new bride ଲ(ⓛ ω ⓛ)ଲ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

It was cold.

Colder than your red wedding robes had prepared you for. Even under the layers and layers of silk, a cold you couldn't shake away clung to your skin. You stretch your hands out, holding them up. The noticeable tremor told you that maybe it wasn't the cold. You pressed the anxiety down, maybe it was fear.

You drew your hands inwards, trying to get some body heat to sustain yourself. You turn, the read beaded veil jingling as you looked around the chambers.

As the last princess, although you had always been favored by your people, it wasnt the case with your own family. Your mother had been a simple musician who played the zither for the court, with no royal title of her own, the consorts looked at you like a pest to be squashed out. Your king father probably didn't even remember your name, more than happy to sell you off to the stranger tyrant. Your title had never been worth much, but the moment the proposal had come from Leuiye, you had been hailed like you were some noble born.

You wondered if this wedding would make your dead mother happy. "Your sisters will marry for honor and status." she would tell you, "But you, my dove, must marry for love and courage."

love and courage. She always used these two words together.

The truth was that they had offered you up as some sacrifice. All to save their own tails.

'They say the man is half a monster'. your sisters told you, as they dressed you up. Pretty voices dripping with malice. 'Horns growing out his head, scales on his arms.'

They said molten gold flowed through his veins.

Cold, dead, metal. Nothing human. Nothing warm.

You tightly pulled the silks around your body, remembering the ceremony. They had draped you up like one of your old dolls. Gold headdress, so heavy it was pulling at your hair. "As the last princess, this is how you serve the kingdom."

The jade ornaments were too tight around your throat, "it is high honor." voices explained, The maids ignored how badly your hands shook as they placed the bangles, "This is your duty."

You had considered running away, but even the ones who run have a home. Where would you run to?

Your legs had buckled as they walked you down to the ceremony, eyes peering past the red veil. You caught glimpses of the room. The huge high- rise celling decorated with gold and ornate blemishes. The traditional leiuyan paintings spread across every wall. Everyone of them had a flow, different scenes from an unknown myth connected to each other.

All the motifs finally met at the last wall. Stretching above you like a giant waiting to swallow you whole. The dragon on the wall was nothing short of terrifying. Slitted venomous eyes, jaw hanging open, still holding a severed body between its teeth. But you couldn't help but admire its beauty. How could man not worship a creature this majestic. Your heart stopped as you noticed the figure sitting against the painting. Your lord husband sat in his gold wedding robes. The picture of a dragon coiled like a halo behind him. His bare arms rippled gold, stag-like horns curling on either side of his head. A veil separating his own face from your sight. But your stomach dropped, the real fear of the situation crashing down into you. You didn't want this, you wanted to turn around and start sprinting.

You didn't realise you had stopped walking until the handmaiden gave you a push. You almost stumbled over the hem of your dress as they pulled you beside him, hands on your shoulders manovering you to sit down. Your knees gave out as you hit the cushion. The room spun, as the priest stood up atonce, starting the ceremony.

His long hands spreading out as he welcomed the guests. But with the panic rising you couldn't make sense of the time. In a few minutes he turned towards the two of you, he gestured towards you.

"Face him." One of the handmaiden's hissed under her breath. You turned a little too quickly.

Your heart hammered as he lifted your veil slowly. His face was devastatingly beautiful. You were realising he wasn't really human at all, the lines of his face, the gold fleckled iris settling on you, the way his mouth hitched in a faint smile as he drank you in. For those seconds you felt his power wash over you. You could almost see its color, golden and yellow, smelling of fresh earth. It encompassed you entirely, moving past your body flooding through the entire room.

You blinked in the yellow light as his fingers curled around your chin as he brought the wine to your lips. His touch seemed to burn into your skin.

You knew about this part of the ceremony, the man always drank first, a rendition of how a wife always puts her husband first, how she must be the first to sacrifice, But the dragon emperor reached for you instead. Your heart hammered as he lifted your veil slowly, keeping it pulled away from your face from one hand. The second brought the wine cup to your lips. A hushed silence fell among the guests.

It was such a curious gesture, tentative, wondering if you would take the step at all. Or refuse the change of tradition like a good bride. For a second you coud't tell if he meant it or if it was a jest. A funny prank for the guests to laugh at.

You reach forward, taking a small sip of the bitter liquid. He lets his thumb linger on your cheek before letting the veil separate you again. You were still dazed from his beauty as he placed the same cup to his mouth.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥

You sighed, sinking down into the soft mattress under you. It was heavy with the sap-sweet smell of flower petals. Idly you picked one of the silk flower petals and crushed it in your hands. The chilly wind carried a strong fragrance around the room. A little too strong, you sneezed so hard that your headrest jingled and you cussed aloud.

There was a deep chuckle.

You jumped a little, not realizing he had already entered. Indeed, the emperor himself. Traditionally he should have been in red silks to match yours, but the Lord of Geo was draped in all the shades of the earth.

Now the veil pulled from his face, he looked far too beautiful. His eyes nestled on your smiling.

Long earth-brown hair tumbled over his shoulders. A delicate golden belt went around his waist suspending tendrils of beads down to his feet.

His amber eyes went around the room, "are you not cold beloved?" You felt heat rise to your cheeks, "a- little."

This was the first time he had spoken to you. As he neared, your heart skipped a beat, walking to a dying lamp and lighting it again. There was a low chuckle, "I'm sure your family would be upset if I let my bride gets a cold on her first night here."

You laughed sarcastically at his comment, "They do not care." You said before you could catch yourself. You practically bit your tongue, "I-I didn't mean that your grace I shouldn't have-"

Zhongli's gait changed, "Were they not kind to you?"

You tightened your jaw making sure you don't show the quiver as you spoke. "They won't care if you send me back in a carriage or in a bag." The room darkened, the cold festering around you. A mocking smile slipped on your face as You shook your head, " I'm the last princess, the leftover."

His eyes softened, "Is that what you felt there?"

His voice echoed out, and his fingers touched your face delicately. Urging you to look at him.

The emotion in his eyes shocked you. "is that what they told you when you were sent here?" His voice hummed with an ancient power. "That you were sent here as a scapegoat? Against your will? To be ridiculed and slaughtered?"

Your lip wobbled as you tried a brave face, "yes."

Zhongli sat down beside you, his fingers brushing away the beads from your face. "I… do not wish to keep you here against your wish."

Your eyes wavered, unable to meet his, "Although I didn't have much say on being sent here, I won't be trouble I promise. There isn't a home for me there anymore, whether I wish it to be or not."

You shook your head, "I'm realizing there never really was."

"You're not some last princess here." He said, "You're the empress of Leiuye." He said, pressing down the anger that threatened to smite anyone that would have regarded you that way.

You blinked at him, eyes fluttering as he slipped his obsidian fingers through yours. His large palm encased yours. The warmth of his touch shocked you. In a strange way, you still expect him to be cold. But touching him felt like grazing fire.

"I don't aspire to make you someone that lives in my shadow, I want someone who can take the weight of this crown." he said, "And I knew I saw that fire the first time I saw you. I do not know these people or understand their minds. But if their actions have caused you to harden your heart, to pull up a fortress, then I am not so small as to force you to take me. If they haven't been able to break you, I don't doubt anything will. And it is for that courage I see in you, that I shall strive for your acceptance, as long as you demand it."

"Will you allow me that my queen?" He asked.

Your heart hammered, And your heart spoke, "Yes."

Something in his gaze shifted and he scooped you up, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. Its like you had lost the sense of your body when he kissed you. You felt his hands slide around your waist, pulling you into his lap without breaking the kiss.

He tasted your skin with his lips and teeth, tugging and pulling the skin on your neck, his hands wandering in your hair, angling your head as he continued to spoil you. Everything about him was hot, his touch searing into you. Zhongli dragged his hands along your body, hands running up your torso to grope your breasts, grabbing at your love handles.

"Y-Your grac-" you words are cut short as his fingers slid past your lips, gliding inside your mouth. He chuckled watching you gag, trying to take his fingers. You really were so pure. Your tongue tried to keep up with his fingers exploring your mouth, obediently sliding over his long digits.

"You have such a pretty mouth, love." he said, fingers reaching the back of your throat, "Why don't you call me morax? hm? I am your husband after all."

You gulped as he slid his fingers out, coated in your saliva, "M-morax" you mimed.

Something feral flashed in his amber eyes, and the thrill went straight to your core. "Very good."

His mouth latched onto yours with a hunger that wasn't there before. Whatever patience he held before seemed to crumble. His tongue forced itself into your mouth, you moaned into his mouth. It felt like the ocean was in his mouth, his warm taste consuming you. He growled softly as he kissed you, his hand holding your jaw in place. You found yourself practically clawing for him, fingers digging into his robes as you twirled your tongue in his mouth.

The perversion clouded your mind as he continued, you rolled your tongue over his fingers. Suddenly feeling very bold, you liked his fingers exploring your mouth you wanted to taste him more and more.

He pulled the headrest from your head, pressing soft kisses on your face. A kiss for every gold thread braided into your hair.

Your fingers no longer trembled as you worked on the knots that tied his robes. Although you blushed as you undid his robes dutifully. You were such a sweet little thing, so pliant so pure. He relished the small gasp that left your lips as he latched his mouth on your neck. Zhongli didn't just want to fuck you, he wanted to devour you whole.

He hugged you from the back, dragging his palms against your breasts, fingers grabbing at your skin greedily. He latched his mouth to yours again, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste. Wetness pooled between your legs. You rubbed your thighs sadly as you realised you wanted him to touch you there. So fucking badly.

His hand lazily caressed your inner thigh, the featherlight touch sending goosebumps across your body. You jumped as his fingers brushed higher. He chuckled, the sound resonating in his chest. You let your head roll back on his shoulder as his other hand reached for your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple. You couldn't help but squirm as Zhongli toyed with you. The arousal grew, flooding your body with a strange heat you had never felt before. His fingers on your thigh inched closer to your core, "have you touched yourself before, beloved?"

You shook your head, mind still reeling from his tantalizing touch, "N-no Your grace." You managed.

"hm?" he mused, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "That's a shame," he breathed, "Guess I'll have to figure out how to pleasure you on my own."

His fingers reached deep inside your core, rubbing along your walls. You yelped out his name as his fingers curved sliding wickedly inside you. His mouth still working at your neck, sneaking up to draw out languid, hot kisses. With every moment your desire for him grew. He laughed in your mouth as you sucked on his tongue, practically growling at how wet you were for him.

He continued to praise you to take away the burn of his fingers thrusting inside you. "Such a sweet, lovely thing~" he mused as he continued his lazy torturous rhythm.

He held you in his arms, your back against his chest. The inner of your thighs were slick from the hours of teasing. His fingers sunk to the knuckles, it was embarrassing just how riled up he got you from his fingers. You felt his cock harden, pressing against the small of your back needy-ly.

You groaned practically arching your back to feel more of him. But Zhongli just held you in place. His cock was painfully hair, pressing against the flimsy fabric of his pants, weeping at the tip. He drank in the whine as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, so fucking warm, his cock twitched again begging for attention. He traced his fingers down your torso, the swell of your breasts to the dip of your stomach, well his cock will just have to fucking wait. He had to taste you first.

He placed you down on your back, watching as you sink into the fabric. His eyes drank in your body, you were completely bare for him, thighs pushed apart. His wedding robes hung loosely around his shoulders, his bare chest heaving. His golden hands dug into your thighs, spreading them further.

You couldn't help but yelp as the cold air hit your folds, the humiliation of the position was too much to handle. Morax kissed your knee, "Now, now, little one." He hummed against your skin, "Don't be shy, you're so beautiful like this," his thumb brushed over your folds, featherlight. Your hips buckled under his touch, heart hammering with anticipation. His fingers dug into your plush thighs as his mouth lowered, trailing hot kisses down your thigh. You could see the lust pool into his eyes like molten gold, just the intensity of his gaze making your legs tremble.

careful not to hurt you with his horns, as he nestled between your legs. You felt his breath against your core. Your breath hitched as you realized what he was going to do.

His tongue felt warm and very arousing against you. He pressed soft kisses on your clit "so sweet" he growled out.

Just the sight of him nestled between your legs, dragging his tongue along your deepest parts threatened to push you over the edge. You felt a strange pressure build in you, blazing pleasure rising in your body. Your knitting into his hair and you grinded yourself against his face, demanding more friction.

As the coil in your stomach snapped, the pleasure made your eyes fly open. Zhongli's grip around your hips held you in place as you spasmed around his tongue. Your grip on his hair loosened as you panted out, too overwhelmed from your first orgasm. Zhongli growled out against your core, flicking his tongue over clit making you squeal out from over-sensitivity. He chuckled kissing up your thigh, dragging his teeth over the supple flesh.

The high from the orgasm dulled and whatever fear you had about this moment flew out the window. You wanted him to completely own you, take your body in every way, to completely ruin you-

He squeezed your face lovingly, pulling you in a kiss where you could taste yourself on his lips.

His hands brushed the hair off your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. Adoring your face.

You actually felt loved. Your heart felt so full as he reached forward claiming your mouth again. His hand moved down to your thigh, hooking his palm under your knee, raising your knee to your chest. You mewled as you felt his tip brush against your folds. "Morax~ ungh, please."

"Patience, my love." He murmured against you, dragging his cock along your folds, the tip digging into your soft core just enough to have you begging for him.

"Can't have you getting hurt now love."

You squirmed as he continued to tease you, gathering the slick from your core as he enjoyed how fucking warm you were.

His tip finally pressed against your entrance and your hips practically buckled with excitement. Zhongli cupped your face, making you look at him, "If it's too much, you must tell me immediately, understood?" You nodded feverishly, finding him torturously endearing now. The smirk told you he read your mind.

Your eyes rolled back as he finally, fucking finally eased his cock into you. You felt the pinching drag as he pushed each inch in. He was big for you, your walls struggling to accommodate his girth. But the pain of the intrusion only lasted for a second before you were completely consumed in the pleasure of just feeling so full. Your walls fluttered around him, you couldn't wrap your head around the fact that he was actually inside. You felt the warm tickle of blood down your leg as he bottomed into you. Morax continued to handle you like glass, rubbing your sides, singing you sweet things asking if it hurt too bad and if he should stop. But all you could think of was how badly you wanted him to move. To have some sort of friction.

Your fingers fisted in his silky hair and you pulled him closer, teeth knocking as you pulled him in a messy kiss.

"Show me you're mine emperor."

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥

With every passing moment, his patience grew thinner, head overcome with lust. He couldn't take his eyes off how his cock slid into your gushy hole, like you were made for him.

He loved seeing you under him, eyes glassy from the pleasure, a stupid smile on your face as he pounded into you. He had finally broken you, stripped away the shyness. He wanted you to use him to find all the crevices of love, to explore what pleasured you the most.

To take from him everything you were denied before. It had been hours of him fucking into you, he had already pushed you over the limit, but he could tell how you didn't want to stop yet. How his bride was just as insatiably obsessed with him as he was with her.

Your legs trembled as he pulled you on top, jerking his hips upwards, his blunt tip fucking deeper into your cunt. His pace grew more and more ruthless, your mind blanked, the world around you blending into the pure pleasure of his cock slamming into your sweet spot. Your glazed eyes pinned on his, hands pressed weakly against his chest. His fingers grazed your sides as you rode him out, hips meeting his thrusts halfway.

The curl of desire was so strong, your nails dug into his chest, drawing blood. He growled, the sound going straight to your core. For the first time in your life, you had a person to call your own.

Your eyes pinned on his fucked out face, the red flush running down his neck, eyes slightly glazed as he surrendered to you more and more with every thrust. An expression you would get to keep to yourself. You arched your back, quickening the pace. The way his cock glided inside you was just so fucking good. You could feel him twitch inside you just aching for release. For the last princess who was born with nothing, you were just owning the greatest emperor in the land.

The knot in your stomach finally snapped, your eyes rolled back, body going limp from one of the most intense orgasms of your life. Your walls spasmed uncontrollably against his girth, the feeling of your warm walls squeezing against him, sent the emperor over the edge. With a grunt he gripped your waist, the tip of the cock pressed deliciously against your cervix as he came. You watch his glorious face contort into pure pleasure as he filled you up with ropes of his thick cum. His grip on your waist eased and you collapsed onto his chest, panting hard.

You felt his cock soften inside you before slipping out, eliciting a whine from you. You panted against his warm chest, his arms wrapped around your body. His fingers ran through your sweat-soaked hair, murmuring praises, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, "So well, you did so well, beloved-"

His sex-heavy voice sent warmth flooding through your veins, from the roots of your hair to your fingertips. You buried your face in his chest as he hugged you closer. His voice purred out more praises, but you couldn't hear them anymore. The chamber felt blazing hot, eyes getting heavy as the exhaustion finally hit you. If this is why people in Leuyie kept their chambers always cold, maybe you could get used to it.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ (--) ♥

AHHHHHHHHH I have wanted to write this one for so long have fun✌🐜

[saltsicklover]

Part One - STCHT

Here's to a new adventure! Enjoy!!

Title: Someone To Come Home To

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2200+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talk of Secrets, Swearing, Jake's mothering being A LOT, talks of death and trauma.

Best Friends to Lovers Romance! Marriage of Convenience!

Disclaimer: I do not own Jake Seresin, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The Dagger Squad is good at keeping secrets- they make their living under Top Secret clearance, their fighter jets being a means to an end, really. They fly with a prayer on their lips, they compete their missions, make miracles, and come home. That's the job. 

They do it, and they do it well, because that is the job. From the moment the step onto that aircraft carrier, it no longer matters what they are leaving behind. They may fight for what's behind them, who is behind them, but none of that matters the second they step into that jet. All that mattered from that moment on was the mission, the job, the next step or twelve they had to take in order to get back home. 

Maybe that's why they have so many secrets. 

They tell people it's so information can't be tortured out of them- if they can keep their personal lives a secret, they can damn sure keep professional information from falling into the wrong hands. They say it's because they are just quiet people, they don't like their personal lives out in the open for anyone to see. Sometimes they even say it's so they can focus on the job. If no one is talking about home, there will be nothing to miss on mission, on deployment, or while they are stationed across the country. 

Those were never the real reasons. Each Dagger had their own. Nobody ever questioned each other until they became a permeant detachment out of San Diego and things that were once kept secret slowly began working their way out. 

The secrets, physical fitness standards, uniform regulations, and bureaucracy were just added bullshit on top of the contracted nine to five job that Jake Seresin accepted when he signed on that dotted line. Again, and again, and again. 

The job was good, really good. It brought him all over the world, seeing things that people didn't even think to wish for. From the deepest blue hues of the ocean and their white crested waves that lap themselves up against the sides of aircraft carriers to the clearest sky that surrounded him each time he flew. No matter where he found himself, the world seemed to stretch so far around him and a feeling of absolute awe filled him. 

He swore up and down that there was nothing like it, the feeling that the ever expansive Earth was just beyond of his fingertips, and he ached to see it all. Seresin crossed his heart, claiming there was nothing more beautiful than watching the world form the seat of his jet- the sun cresting over the horizon, the blue from both the sky and sea being interrupted by a streak of brilliant sunlight. 

He knew the sky was where he belonged from the moment his Father's best friend took him up in his private prop plane. It was just a little two seater Cessna, but Jake sat in the back, fighting the the seatbelt the whole time. He wanted nothing more than to push his face flush up against the glass and take in everything the eye could see. It was that moment, his world broke open, his future crystal clear- he belonged in the sky. 

Getting into the Navy was all that mattered, so, he fought like hell to claim his place, to fly with the best pilots, to be a navel aviator. He started young, first with good grades and model planes before moving onto high school, his plucky neighbor in tow. 

Seresin had first met his neighbor, who he affectionately refers to as Spurs, when his Mother dragged him over to their home with a Bundt cake to welcome them to the neighborhood. The gesture was meant to be friendly, the Texans with kind hearts and hospitality to boot. 

The Jett family was less than impressed with the gesture, but, they took the cake anyway in an attempt to seem nice. It's never the best idea to upset new neighbors on the day you move in, even if the cake that Mrs. Seresin held out to Ms. Jett felt more like an excuse to snoop than it did to actually be kind. The thing the Mrs. Seresin didn't know was that her presence was more of an interruption than a welcome party. That, however, didn't stop the wide eyed girl from pushing around her mother's legs, sticking her hand out towards Jake with gusto and self confidence. 

"Good afternoon!" Mrs. Seresin's cheeks bore too much blush and not enough of a smile as Mrs. Jett opened the door about 45 degrees. She stuck her head out onto the porch, her daughter quickly hiding behind the door, a finger laced through her mother's belt loop. 

"Hi," The greeting is short and Mrs. Seresin pulls her lips into a tight line, still trying to keep the corners ticked up to allude to a smile in response to her new neighbor.  

Mrs. Seresin's blond hair is styled tall and proud, no doubt giving her about four more inches in height, adding to the extra couple she gets from her strappy heals. She wears a beautiful dress, one that wraps her upper body before flowing down into a skirt to hide her tummy and hips. Things that, no doubt wouldn't be considered 'lady-like' to show off. The neckline is modest, but there is enough room to layer a set of dainty pearls around her neck. Her blue eyes sparkle against her thick layer of makeup. 

Her son is clad in jeans that are just a hair too long for him, even with the little bit of height he gets from his cowboy boots. A t-shirt is tucked into this jeans, a belt buckle on proud display. His cheeks are rosy with heat, unclear if the cause is from the weather or the embarrassment his mother is subjecting him to. 

"My name is Patricia Seresin, and this is my son, Jacob," She runs her well manicured fingers through his hair. "We live just across the way and we wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" The cheeriness laced in her voice is fake but well rehearsed; a tone of voice that would sound wonderfully condescending with the right words. Ms. Jett takes note of the tone and the way her new neighbors lacquered nails stand out against her son's hair, the shining red paint against the bright blond of the boy's too long hair. Jacob's hair falls unceremoniously over his forehead, a hat line worn into his bangs, no doubt from the dark brown Stetson he cradles against his chest. 

Patricia holds the cake out towards Ms. Jett expectantly, her eyebrows inching up her forehead as she shakes the plastic wrap covered dessert at her new neighbor. Patricia mutters something about it being a "Bundt" and so, with a sigh,  Ms. Jett pulls open the door a bit further, trying not to notice the way her new neighbor's eyes rake over her form. Her hair is tied back, bandanna tied tightly around her head, almost obscuring her dirty blonde hair. Her white t-shirt is tucked beneath a pair of cutoff overalls, a pair of high tops adorn her feet. 

"I'm Lizzy- Elizabeth Varon Jett" She introduced herself as she took the cake being presented to her. Once she let go of the door, it swung open the rest of the way, her daughter's hand on the knob. Her daughter is still hidden a bit behind her legs. "This is my daughter, Captain," Lizzy introduces her daughter with a little smirk.

"You named your daughter, Captain?" The judgement leaks through Patricia's voice and Lizzy can't help but laugh.

"Heavens, no! But she won't actually respond to anything but Captain, so that's what we go with. My late husband was a Naval Lieutenant, and used to call her Captain because it's a superior rank.  It's silly," She dismisses with a wave of her hand, a light wash of tears flooding her eyes. "Captain, this is Mrs. Patricia, and her son, Jacob," 

"Mrs. Seresin,"

"Jake," 

The neighbors speak at the same time.  Captain's eyes drifted from Mrs. Seresin to the boy standing next to her. He smiles widely at her, a couple of his front teeth missing. She smiles back, showing off a tooth gap of her own. Lizzy laughs at the exchange, Patricia doesn't. 

"Captain starts at the Elementary school just down the road in a couple of weeks," Lizzy says, more to Jake than to his mother, "Fourth grade, a big year! What about you, Jacob?"

"I will be going into fourth grade as well, Ma'am," He informs her, a smile playing on his lips. 

"That's very exciting, maybe you two will be in the same class!" Lizzy nudges her daughter a bit with her hip, a smile on both of their faces. The words go unspoken between mother and daughter, a new friend. 

Captain looks Jake up and down before making a decision. She moved out fully from behind the safety of her mother's legs, a new confidence taking over. She didn't even bother to give her name, real or the nickname she had been using since she was seven, instead opting to ask a question, one that would stick in the back of Jake's mind for the rest of time, "Where are your spurs? I thought everyone here in Texas wore spurs!"

The laugh that escaped his lips sealed the deal for her. Jake would be her best friend. Jake's mother nudged him between the shoulders, apologizing for his inconsiderate attitude. As their mothers continued their conversation, Spurs stuck out her hand again, this time, he took it in his own, grip firm and assured. 

With a few more spoken words between the women, they bid each other a good afternoon, each mother having to pull their own child into the house and off the porch, respectively. Captain knew form that moment on that didn't plan on letting anything get in her way, not the new house, the new school, the new life without her father, nothing. Especially when it came to the green eyed boy who lived across the street, who was in her new fourth grade class. The moment she laid eyes on him life swept them up, tangling them together, whether they like it or not- but little did each other know, they would like it an awful lot. 

---

Over the years, Jake and Spurs came to know lots about each other, probably more than they knew about themselves. Jake's family owned a large ranching business but after his father, Richard, got injured, they moved into town leaving the ranch in their employees capable hands.

Jake learned how Spurs' father, David, died. He was in a helicopter that went down, the ocean swept the wreckage under and no one made it out. They shouldn't have been flying with the storm, but the Navy remains adamant that there was appropriate weather when they took off. Spurs doesn't speak about her father, much to her Mom's dismay. 

Jake loves math even though he would never admit it, and Sunny was fantastic in history. He could spell, she couldn't. She always slipped him her carton of milk in exchange for his grapes. They balanced each other out, the way best friends should. 

Their mothers took photos of them together every year, the first day of school, and the last, posed in front of the large tree outside the Seresin house. They traded birthday gifts and homework. They got caught cheating in the sixth grade as they slipped each other answers for the reading quiz. Neither of them cared for the books they read, so they each read half and swapped answers. It wasn't a fool proof plan, but they didn't find that out until they were sitting outside the principals office, bumping knees and waiting for their furious mothers to get through with the principal. 

The years went by quickly, between school work and first time job, first kisses and parties. Not before long, it was graduation and the pair were happy as could be, posing for photos together. They were clad in cap and gown, hanging off of each other, smiles brighter than the Texas sun. Jake was headed for bootcamp a few weeks later, more than ready to begin his Naval career. 

Spurs was headed north, school in Minnesota calling her name. She didn't really want to go, but she promised her Mother she would give it a try. When she finally made it to the tiny college town, nestled right up against the Mississippi river, she barely lasted through the first winter. Between the homesick feeling that never left her chest and the fact that Jake was due home for Easter before shipping out to his first duty station for Flight School, she was itching to get home. 

She told herself she didn't need the fancy degree anyway- it wasn't what she wanted out of life in the first place. Spurs wanted to travel, to work with her hands, to meet new people and figure out what life was outside of her little corner of it all. She was ready for whatever the world was going to dish her- at least, she thought she was. That was until she walked through the front door of her house, bags in hand, only to find the Seresin's and her mother waiting for her, each wearing a more intense look than the last. Absolutely nothing could have prepared her for the words that left Richard's mouth. 

[exo-levi]

Timeless

Title: Timeless Reference: AoT, Taylor Swift's Timeless (parts of it) Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader Universe: Reincarnation!AU, Canonverse Period: AoT Season 4 and Postwar Warning(s): Small amount of spoilers from the manga ahead Theme: Fluff & angst Word count: 1.5k words

Disclaimer: - AoT Universe belongs to Isayama Hajime. - Song used belongs to Taylor Swift

Summary: Haunted by vivid dreams of a past life, she embarks on a quest to uncover the mysteries behind her connection to Levi and a world plagued by Titans. As she delves deeper into the past, she encounters a man who bears an uncanny resemblance to Levi, leading to a profound realization that their love is truly timeless.

It was a tranquil day, perfect for a leisurely stroll through town. The streets were dotted with neighbors engaged in pleasant conversations, relishing the beautiful weather at the park, and the joyful sounds of children playing filled the air. This picturesque scene was a rarity, particularly for her.

Normally confined to her apartment on weekends, she had ventured out today in an attempt to escape the relentless headache that had plagued her for the past two days. It wasn't an illness but rather a persistent sleeplessness that had left her head throbbing.

For nearly a month, she had been experiencing peculiar dreams that seemed almost like vivid memories. Some were nightmarish, inducing terror capable of jolting her awake, while others were warm and filled with longing—for something, for someone.

The previous night was no exception, with her headache intensifying. So, she had chosen to take a walk to clear her mind of the unsettling dream she had just experienced.

"Stay with me," a deep voice had echoed in her dream.

Although everything appeared blurred, the voices were crystal clear. Cries and screams reverberated, creating a cacophony of chaos.

"Levi…"

Who is this Levi?

The eerie feeling of familiarity that accompanied the name lingered, as if she had met him somewhere before. Dismissing it, she continued her walk. Whoever Levi was, she resolved to deal with him—or forget about him—later.

A few steps later, she abruptly halted, inexplicably drawn to an antique shop she had never entered before. While she often passed by it on her way to work, she had never ventured inside. Yet today, an inner impulse guided her through its doors.

As she explored the store, her eyes danced over an array of beautifully preserved items—pottery, vintage furniture, memorabilia, and more. It was remarkable how these artifacts from bygone eras still retained their original charm and pristine condition.

Guided by an unseen force, she eventually reached the counter where a slightly worn-out box captured her attention. In bold marker, it read, "25 cents each." Curiosity piqued, she peeked inside and found it filled with a multitude of old photographs.

"See anything you like, dear?" the shop owner inquired.

"Just looking, Ma'am," she replied with a warm smile.

The owner nodded, "Feel free to browse at your leisure."

Thanking her, she selected two photographs. The first depicted a young woman, radiant in her wedding dress, while the other captured the same woman and a military man sharing an affectionate smile. The love evident in their eyes was undeniable.

Leafing through the stack, she couldn't help but smile at the love story that unfolded before her. These photographs painted a tale of a couple's romance from the 1940s, evoking dreams of an enduring love. The images strangely reminded her of Levi.

…Levi?

That enigmatic name returned, flooding her thoughts once more.

***

"I love you," he whispered in her dream, his eyes locked onto hers in the dim light of their surroundings. Her fingers tenderly brushed through his hair, gently tucking it behind his ear. "I love you too," she replied breathlessly, the aftermath of their passionate encounter still lingering in the air.

Tomorrow marked the day they would reclaim Wall Maria, and they had seized this precious moment to be together before the impending battle.

The memory from her dream played on a loop in her mind, and she couldn't help but be unsettled by the persistent presence of this man named Levi. She had never encountered anyone with raven hair and a stern yet handsome countenance—certainly not in her waking life.

***

"Levi…" she murmured incredulously.

The rain poured relentlessly, drenching her surroundings. There he lay, her beloved, covered in blood and surrounded by shards of wood from a nearby explosion. He looked lifeless. Kneeling beside him, she cradled his head and drew him close, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Would you look at that, our biggest threat is covered in his own blood," Floch muttered from behind. "Let's shoot him in the head," another soldier suggested.

"He's dead," Hange declared. Her eyes met Hange's, and the unspoken understanding between them led her to maintain her silence, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on Levi.

"He was caught in a Thunder Spear explosion at point-blank range. Internally, he's in pieces," the soldiers explained. Floch insisted on checking Levi's pulse, but both she and Hange remained quiet. Before Hange could respond, a nearby Titan began to steam, revealing Zeke beneath it. The soldiers' attention quickly shifted, providing an opportunity for her, Hange, and Levi to slip away. They escaped, rescuing him from the brink of death.

***

"I have brought all the reports from Captain Levi, Ma'am," a cadet reported.

"Thank you, cadet. You're dismissed," the co-captain acknowledged.

With a salute, the cadet left, and the co-captain delved into the files, diligently tending to her captain's duties. Amidst the paperwork, a small folded paper slipped from one of the folders and landed on the floor.

She picked it up and unfolded it, revealing a heartfelt message. A soft smile graced her lips as she recognized the familiar handwriting.

"Don't overwork yourself and always stay hydrated.

I love you.

Levi."

It was the little gestures, the sweet notes, and loving sentiments that Levi conveyed that never failed to warm her heart and rekindle her love for him. She placed the love letter aside, alongside the other letters Levi had written, with the intention of showering him with affection after a long day. He unquestionably deserved it.

***

"Do you ever think about what you'd do when this is all over?" she asked Levi one day.

Levi was taken aback by the genuine question, pausing to contemplate his response. "Hmm," he began, "I'd like to build a Tea Shop."

"A Tea Shop?" she quizzically inquired.

"Yes," he replied, his gaze fixed on her, his voice a soft whisper, "and you'll be there."

Her eyes widened in slight astonishment at his sweet declaration, and then she smiled. She reached out, her fingers gently combing through his hair before caressing his soft cheek. "I'd like that, Levi," she whispered back. She leaned in for a kiss, and as they parted, she continued, "And we'll have a garden outside the Tea Shop, so customers can dine there too. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

Levi chuckled softly at her unexpected enthusiasm. "It does," he concurred. He reached for her hands, bringing them to his lips and planting a tender kiss on her knuckles, his thumbs gently rubbing them. "We'll end this war, and we'll live in peace, together."

His sudden displays of affection never failed to melt her heart and renew her love for him.

"Together."

"Always."

***

"Connie!"

Before Connie could turn to see who had called his name, a powerful shove from behind propelled him out of harm's way, narrowly avoiding an imminent Titan attack he hadn't seen coming. The young woman who had saved him was not so fortunate, as the Titan's teeth sank into her leg during her heroic act. She lost her balance, and in her fall, a claw sliced through her side, causing further injury.

As she plummeted to the ground, Levi caught her, having swiftly moved from a distant part of the battlefield. Gently laying her down, he assessed the extent of her injuries.

"Stay with me," his deep voice echoed.

Although her vision blurred, the voices were clear and distinct. Cries and screams surrounded them, creating a scene of utter chaos.

"Levi…" she whispered weakly, her lifeblood staining the earth beneath her.

In response, he knelt beside her, his expression a mask of concern and fear. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. "I've got you. I'll bandage your wounds and get you out of the combat zone," he promised, his voice trembling.

"Levi…"

She interrupted him, prompting him to meet her gaze. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart raced. He couldn't lose her, not now. "Wrapping my wounds will take time. You need to go back out there and help the others," she insisted, her voice strained. "I'll make it quick. Don't worry."

"Don't."

She interrupted him once more. "Please, Levi, let me go."

He whispered her name, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't lose you like this. We're on the brink of ending this war," he pleaded.

"You won't lose me. We'll find each other in another life," she assured him with a sad smile. Her hand reached up to wipe away a tear that he hadn't realized had fallen. He was silently weeping.

"I love you," she whispered.

He couldn't accept this. They were so close to victory, and he couldn't fathom a life without her. This wasn't what either of them wanted, but if it was the hand fate had dealt them, there was little they could do.

"I love you too."

"Finish this war without me. I have faith in all of you."

Levi leaned down and pressed his forehead on her own, tears escaped the moment his closed his eyes tight. His lover leaned to him closer to kiss him passionately.

"I'll see you later," she whispered.

***

Her heart ached as much as her head did as different memories kept flooding in her mind. She closed her eyes tight for a second to recover herself and realized she's been staring at the same box for who knows how long. She returned the photos in the box and went out of the shop.

Enough of this.

The young woman sighed. Hopefully, she'll find an answer.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet the ache in her heart remained. She resumed her normal life, following her mundane routine, but it felt as though a part of her was missing. Her dreams, those memories from a different time and place, haunted her relentlessly.

One evening, as she gazed out of her window at the setting sun, an overwhelming restlessness consumed her. The need for answers had grown too strong to ignore. The strange connection she felt to the name "Levi" and the vivid memories that felt so real could no longer be dismissed.

Taking a deep breath, she resolved to embark on a quest to unearth the truth behind these haunting memories. She threw herself into research, scouring old books and articles, desperately searching for any mention of a Levi who might have lived during the time of her dreams. It was a long shot, and the odds were against her, but an unshakeable feeling told her that this was important.

Weeks stretched into months as she painstakingly combed through historical records. One day, she stumbled upon a faded photograph in an ancient journal—a black and white image of a group of soldiers. In the center of the photograph stood a man who sent shivers down her spine.

"Levi," she whispered his name aloud, as if to confirm his existence. The man in the photograph possessed the same raven hair and stern yet striking countenance she had seen in her dreams. It couldn't be a coincidence. The journal provided some details about a group of soldiers who had fought in a war against colossal humanoid creatures called Titans. It was a war that had occurred over a century ago, and most of the soldiers had perished.

Delving deeper into her research, she discovered that the war against the Titans had taken place in a world vastly different from her own. A world where humanity lived within colossal walls to protect themselves from these monstrous entities. It was a world that should have had no connection to her, yet the memories and emotions she experienced were undeniably real.

With newfound determination, she decided to seek out a local historian who specialized in that era. Perhaps this historian could provide more information about the soldiers who had fought in the Titan War, particularly the mysterious Levi.

The historian's office was a cluttered treasure trove of ancient documents and maps, a testament to his lifelong dedication to his field. He listened attentively as she recounted her dreams and the inexplicable connection she felt to a past life.

After a long pause, the historian finally spoke. "What you're describing is known as reincarnation memories—a phenomenon where individuals recall events and emotions from their past lives. It's rare but documented."

"But why do I have these memories, and why do I feel so connected to this Levi?" she implored, her desperation palpable.

The historian leaned forward, his gaze a mix of curiosity and sympathy. "It's possible that your soul carries the memories of a previous life, and for some reason, they've resurfaced in this lifetime. As for your connection to Levi, it's a mystery. Perhaps you were deeply entwined in that past life, and your souls remain bound in some way."

Leaving the historian's office with more questions than answers, she knew she couldn't stop now. The memories of her past life were like fragments of a puzzle begging to be pieced together. The sensation of her connection to Levi felt more than mere happenstance.

The following day, she decided to visit a teashop she had never frequented. It was a small, charming establishment with an atmosphere of tranquility—an ideal setting to collect her thoughts and attempt to make sense of her experiences. As she entered and settled into a corner table, an inexplicable sense of déjà vu washed over her.

Ordering her favorite tea, she watched as steam curled from the cup, her thoughts drifting back to the memories of love, war, and sacrifice that had played out in her dreams. It was almost as if she could hear Levi's voice softly murmuring, "Together, always."

Lost in her thoughts, the teashop's door swung open, and a man entered. With raven hair and a stern, yet striking countenance, their eyes locked. Time seemed to stand still as recognition flooded over them both.

"Levi?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he made his way toward her table. "I… I don't know how, but I remember you," he said, his voice filled with equal parts incredulity and longing.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached out to touch his hand, and he covered it with his own. In that moment, the inexplicable connection between their souls became undeniably real.

"I love you," she whispered, just as she had in her dreams.

"I love you too," he replied, their love transcending time and space.

As they sat together in that small teashop, hand in hand, they knew that their reunion was no mere coincidence. Their love had endured through the ages, a love that was truly timeless.

About. Masterlist. Taglist.

Yours truly,

Rowan.

[astranva]

As It Was | TikTok Series

Word Count: 683

Category: Fluff

Warning: None

Summary: In which Harry talks about Y/N being a TikTok pro and Y/N does the As It Was trend.

..

In his blue and yellow polka dotted Gucci t-shirt, Harry was in front of his laptop with his corded earphones in his ears.

You sat on the bed out of the view, on your own laptop but your mind focused on Harry as he spoke to Mikey Piff from SiriusXM Hits 1.

“Now you go on TikTok, and everyone is—it’s finally kind of hit everyone what this means and they’re doing all these videos of like, things as they were then and what they are now,” he said, speaking about As It Was, “Have you been able to see any of those trends on TikTok?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry answered, his finger on his bottom lip, “My girlfriend keeps me updated with TikTok,” he said with a smile, “I’ve seen-I’ve seen a few, yeah.”

“Your girlfriend is pretty active and present on the app. Do the fans have to worry about you knowing too much about what they do on it?”

Harry chuckled, “A little,” he joked, “Y/N’s very present, yeah,” he nodded, grazing his bottom lip as he tried not to turn his head right there and then and look at you, “She likes to interact with the fans and see what they’re up to, it keeps us all, like,” he paused, putting his hands in a circle, “In the loop, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, “You both are a big deal on TikTok,” Harry chuckled, “Just to let you know.”

“Y/N does it better than I ever could,” he shook his head slightly.

“Have you tried getting on the app?”

“I did, I did yeah,” he nodded, “But it’s nothing like Vine,” Harry laughed slightly, raising his finger up, “So Y/N made fun of me for it because I just couldn’t really get it, so now I just leave it to her.”

“Leave it to the pros,” Mikey joked.

“Leave it to the pros,” Harry repeated.

It was comical that as he spoke, you were editing your very own video of the TikTok trend to As It Was.

The video began with a picture of you and Harry from the Spotify listening party in NYC. The both of you were standing in front of the cream-colored theme door that was left ajar, your arms around each other as you both were mid-laugh, looking at each other like two lovesick high school couple. 

“You know it’s not the same…” you had added the text to the duration of the line being sung before it changed.

“As it was” was written on another picture, the both of you standing in front of the prop of the Fine Line album art; the light blue wallpaper with the pink ceiling and floor. Your lips were puckered as you threw a peace sign, your other arm around Harry’s waist as he, too, kept one arm around you while the other threw a peace sign, his tongue stuck out.

“As it was,” the song sang again and with it changed to another picture.

This time, you both looked a little younger, Harry’s hair short as he wore an off-white floral suit, you in a t-shirt that had the album art of his first self-titled album and jeans.

His arms were wrapped around you, eyes set on you with a smile on his face as you beamed to the camera, one arm around him while the other was held up excitedly.

You almost cried looking at the three pictures of three different eras. 

“it’s not the same as it was, lovie 💓” was your caption, and fans almost died.

In a matter of seconds, thousands of likes and comments were rushing through that it made sense that in the span of two hours, the short TikTok video had 7 million likes. 

Comments:

username: Y/N being there from the start makes me emo 

username: THREE!!!! ERAS!!!!! TOGETHER!!!!! 

username: THAT’S IT. CLOSE THE CURTAINS. NOBODY POST ANOTHER VIDEO BECAUSE Y/N CAME AND SHE ENDED THE TREND

username: haha that’s so cute *does a backflips in front of a train*

username: guess who’s sleeping on the highway 

[yukimomodivorce]

Unecessarily long explanation/analysis of what Re:vale's name might mean

I don't know how to start this ok so basically this post and these tags from @nitunio

inspired me to try to explain my own interpretation and I maybe accidentally spent several days looking into the etymology in the process and now I have more to say about it than I did initially. So I wanna start by outlining every potentially relevant definition/use of re and vale that I found and then I'm gonna talk about how some of them relate to Re:vale. This post has sections and a reference list baby let's go

1: Definitions of re

1. In music terms, re is the second syllabic note in a diatonic scale (do re mi etc.)

2. Re: specifically with a colon at the end is often used as an abbreviation of 'reply' (especially in emails) and/or as the Latin re meaning 'regarding' or 'in reference to'

3. In most cases, re as a prefix/affix indicates 'back' (as in return) or 'again' (as in repetition)

2: Definitions of vale

1. The Middle English vale (pronounced like veil) is another term for valley (derived from the Latin vallis), used in literary/poetic contexts or place names to mean:

A low stretch of land surrounded by hills or mountains, usually with a river flowing through it

The world or mortal life (figuratively and often with connotations of sorrow or hardship, such as in the phrase "vale of tears")

2. In most modern uses, the Latin vale means 'farewell' or 'goodbye', especially in the context of death (apparently this is really common in Australia? I've never heard it before)

3. This use is derived from valeō (or present infinitive valēre), which basically means 'be well/healthy' - so vale in Latin means 'goodbye' in the sense of wishing someone good health, safe travels etc.

Valeō/valēre can also denote strength and worth, and it's the root of both valour and value

4. From what I can find, vale in Spanish is mainly used as a colloquial term similar to 'OK' or 'cool' in English, but it's an inflection of valer which can mean 'valid' or 'worth' and is also derived from the Latin valēre! everything is connected :D

TLDR two main uses of vale both derived from Latin: vallis meaning valley and valeō meaning to be well/healthy/strong/worth

3: What 1 year and 4 months of being a Re:vale fan does to a man

Yuki and Momo's symbols are both repeats, and the two dots (resembling a colon) are what distinguish repeats from final barlines in sheet music (more of me rambling about their symbols here - it's also where the design on their rings comes from, which is something that I keep realising and then instantly forgetting about).

Considering this, I think that the most relevant and likely intended meaning of the 're:' in Re:vale is repeat - we also see English words with the prefix used in this sense pretty frequently with Re-raise, 'revive' and 'rebirth' in Dis one., and 'restart' and 'reborn' in Period Colour. The 'back' aspect also has some significance here, especially in Re:member (the word remember doesn't mean you're like. membering again. it refers to memories. but the title re:member is very intentionally split that way because re:vale both gains and loses a member, so it works with both the again and back implications. anyways). This is also a bit of a recurring theme in i7, what with the whole "the ideal idol is one that doesn't end" thing.

Turning our attention to vale as in valley, once you look into it the whole "vale of tears" meaning doesn't really align with Re:vale unless you only interpret their story as a tragedy, but if you were to look it up and just see the definition "the world" with very little context, then it seems pretty fitting for the most famous currently active idols in the Idolish7 universe. But it actually symbolises how they mean the world to me and also to each other. And the figurative world of suffering that they have put me through thank you and goodnight. Just kidding there's more. I would say something about the valley (landform) and how Yuki is the river and Momo and Banri are the surrounding hills but you get the idea. Momo would live by the river...... he wouldlive by the river. I think about this every day

Anyways. So I really can't say how much of this is intentional but the 'goodbye' vale is especially accurate if you consider the underlying meaning - it's a way of saying goodbye, but it's also sort of a way of saying good luck and be strong. It's the same as how Banri has to say goodbye to Re:vale, but he also tells Yuki to "find a place to sing as yourself". And valour is kind of Trigger's thing (see: valiant) but reaching a little further for the 'value' meaning, it goes back to the whole Mikansei Na Bokura thing - all three of Re:vale's members had to lose something important to them, but the time they spent with it was still valuable and in the end they're able to retain those experiences and move forward to something just as valuable. In the end the name is a bit of a cluster of things vaguely related to them but I guess if you put it together it's like. The repetition of them saying this to each other. Yeah Momo after his injury getting that push from Yuki and Ban's concert to start saying goodbye and moving on and yeah like nitu said him affirming Yuki. Banri saying goodbye/I can't be there next to you anymore but I'll cheer you on from the sidelines and remember the time we spent together fondly and be able to smile once we meet again (<- from the end of his re:member pov). Yuki stabbing me 12 million times in the chest I mean um. Yuki... yeah I'm gonna need another 14 days to write that post let me get back to you on that one. But you get the idea. You get it

I think I had another point somewhere in here but this post has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I still haven't thought of it. But thank you very much for reading if you've gotten this far!!! As a reward you get a hug from me and the reference list :D

4: References

These aren't organised well at all but hopefully it's not too bad

Australian Writers' Centre: Q&A: The Origin of 'Vale'

Dictionary.com: Re • Vale

The English Idolish7 Wiki (my beloved)

Reddit: Contextual Use of "Vale"

Wiktionary: Vale • Valer • Valeō

also the google definitions of most of these terms but idk how to link those and I can't be bothered

[phantomcodes]

claudia | theme by sage

$8 - static preview & code / (temporary) live preview an instagram inspired theme

features (more info below the cut):

toggle: featured posts, blogs, profile, updates, music player, & tags on click

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nothing needs to be changed in the code, everything can be changed in the customize panel!

terms:

reblog if using

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up to 3 stats, you can use these for whatever u want but their intended purpose is for counters, i use freehostedscripts - leave header stat 1 blank if you don’t want these

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each showing the blog’s avatar & url and a name/title

these will link to the blog & have a follow button for each

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up to 2 extra sidebar links with an icon & text, leave them blank if you don’t want them

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this player uses an image link - see my faq if you have questions

uploading your song: i recommend using google drive to host your mp3 files - below is a brief explanation for how to do this but you can also see the resources provided here by glenthemes and more links on my credits page

to start you need an mp3 audio file, once you have the one you want go to google drive and click: ＋ New ➞ File upload

select your mp3 audio file and click open

open your newly uploaded audio file in google drive and click the three dots on the top right, then click Share and under General Access change it to Anyone with the link can view

copy the sharing link provided, it will look something like this: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1pBA6KdlLEzoEZPQ6hmaSr9LGLeCQGPxz/view?usp=sharing

go to the following site and paste your sharing url in the first box provided: https://www.joelgrayson.com/drive-download-link-generator

your final product should look something like this: https://docs.google.com/uc?export=download&id=1pBA6KdlLEzoEZPQ6hmaSr9LGLeCQGPxz

make sure the music player is toggled on in the theme, paste your audio link in the Song URL field

[isa-ghost]

Oh my god wait I just realized I had a dream that either a new Life Series or a new [Thing] SMP was being dropped by Grian and/or Scott Smajor. And it was really cool.

Grian uploaded the video so I'm inclined to think it was a Life S5. But like. Basically it was a video with a title that didn't give anything away (idr what it said tho) and it was like. Him, another Life Series member, and then one or two invisible-potioned new players in the room in Minecraft just goofing. But it's obvious Grian and [Xyz] know what's about to happen.

In comes a random mcyt friend of theirs (I only remember Mythical Sausage being one but it was a dif person every time) would suddenly enter the room happily sprint-jumping with something in their hands. A custom texture thing that was an "invite" to S5 of the Life Series.

So basically, the person delivering the invite would come in all happy, toss an invite to Grian, the other Life Member present, and then "oopsie" drop one or two invites "accidentally" before hopping away, and those invites were for the invisible people. Which btw the invisible people were talking the whole time, like we knew right away watching the video who the new Life cast members would be.

I don't remember them all but here's ones I do remember:

FWhip

Crumb Cuptoast

Shelby Shubble

Rendog returned

Mythical Sausage (he didn't deliver his own invite tho)

I'm not entirely sure but I have a vague memory of CaptainSparklez being another one

Owen OwengejuiceTV I think

Probably other Hermits/Empires I can't remember atm

And I remember being so confused on if this was for a themed SMP or a new part of the Life Series even in-dream before I saw the invites and connected the dots that if Grian is hosting this and uploaded this video himself, then it must be for Life S5. And I remember Tumblr EXPLODING about it, especially about Ren's return and Crumb/Shelby's additions.

And now that I realized it was a dream I'm kinda sad. Can you imagine if we found out before S5 dropped that we were getting new Life Series participants. Oh my god.

[wits-writing]

“A Wonderful Experience”: Why Transformers: EarthSpark and Nightshade Matter

I’ve been a Transformers fan to one degree or another for as long as I can remember. Whether it’s early memories of watching Beast Wars, renting the G1 animated film on VHS from Blockbuster, or reading the numerous excellent comics that have come over the years, I’ve always found something to love about this franchise. So, I was probably going to find time to check out the 2022 CGI animated series Transformers: EarthSpark eventually no matter what. But one little bird changed that from an “I’ll get around to it eventually” to “I need to make watching this show a priority.”

A little bird by the name of Nightshade (voiced by Z Infante)!

I’d already heard from people I trust about EarthSpark’s quality as a series, but finding out about the franchise’s first prominent, explicitly nonbinary Transformer got me eager to dive in. I’ve discussed characters I relate to and read nonbinary themes into in the past, but getting a chance to see a show in a franchise I love feature that kind of representation with intent was exciting. Given the fact I’ve written 3000 words analyzing the character of Nightshade now, it’s easy to say I wasn’t disappointed!

The topic of gender and how it relates to the Transformers as characters has been one of many long, exhausting fandom debates over the franchise’s nearly four decade history. I’m not here to relitigate any of that, so take it as read from here on out that the Transformers as characters do have and express gendered identities throughout the history of all its incarnations. 

To give a quick primer on EarthSpark as a whole (and why it’s great) before digging into Nightshade’s character in specific:

The series is set fifteen years after the end of the Autobot/Decepticon War. The bots that managed to survive the fighting and remain on Earth are presumed to be the last of their species. All of them are stuck in a holding pattern where the only options currently viable are a life in hiding or working alongside the government-funded alien threat detection/response agency GHOST. Optimus Prime and Megatron head up the latter efforts, in the hope of finding some peaceful balance between humans and Transformers going into the future (though neither of them are fully at ease with the situation, as GHOST clearly has ulterior motives of their own.)

The grim outlook for the Cybertronians takes a turn for the better with the birth of two new Transformers. The Earth-sparks of the show’s title (called “Terrans” throughout the series), Twitch and Thrash, who are bonded to the human children Robby and Mo Malto. Helped by Optimus, Megatron, and the Malto kids’ parents, GHOST agent Dot and her husband Alex, the decision is made to keep the Terrans a secret until the extent of what their existence could mean for the Transformers future as a species is fully understood. The Terrans become an official part of the Malto Family (lovingly referred to as “Malto-bots” by the other characters.) At the halfway point of the first season, in the episode “Age of Evolution”, this unconventional family unit expands further with the birth of three more Terrans, including Nightshade.

Between puzzling out the Terrans’ existence, hiding from GHOST, and fighting threats like the human mad scientist Mandroid, there’s a lot of thematic meat on the bone of this series’ setup. The main one I’m interested in digging into through the lens of Nightshade’s characterization is how the Terrans are written to feel like kids figuring out who they want to be as they grow up. Transformers has a history of designating one or more bots in its series central casts as the rookie/kid character, not insignificantly the Terrans’ primary mentor, Bumblebee, has been traditionally positioned as that very rookie. EarthSpark adding the narrative weight of representing a potential for all Transformers, particularly in how they’ll relate to humans while living on Earth, onto these characters gives more meaning to them being under that role.

The Terrans learn lessons about who they want to be and who they can/can’t trust (not always determined by old alliances like Autobot/Decepticon) from the older Transformers and humans alike. Also proving through their actions everything new they’ll have to offer the world they call home through the gift of their existence. Each Terran has been given the appropriate space so far to have their characters develop, each in their own directions, through this theme. 

Nightshade is exemplary of this, best understood through looking at how they’re characterized before/after their first focus episode “Missed Connection”, about them forming a bond with Decepticon scientist Tarantulas.

[SPOILERS for EarthSpark beyond this point]

Before “Missed Connection”

Something that genuinely impressed me going back through EarthSpark for the sake of writing this piece is how immediately Nightshade is fully themself from their earliest bits of screentime in “Age of Evolution.” While the other two members of the second batch of Terran Transformers, Hashtag and Jawbreaker, have their names confirmed upon them by their connection to Robby and Mo, Nightshade actively introduces themself with a bow and a flourish (“It is a delight and a surprise to meet you all!”) This beat quickly establishes their self-assuredness in their identity and that, while they’re later shown to have occasional introverted tendencies, they are anything but shy. I’m also fond of how the scene establishing their pronouns as Optimus lays out their plan of attack also foreshadows their eventual alt-mode, since they ask to be represented by an owl-bobblehead during the planning. The one scene serving as a contrast to their outgoing demeanor, as they recoil at the sight of Mandroid’s cruelty, gives the first hint towards their eventual desire to protect those in need.

There’s only two episodes between Nightshade’s debut in “Age of Evolution” and their first focus episode; “Hashtag: Oops” and “Outtakes.” Since neither is their focus episode, there’s not much to say about how they’re portrayed in either one (in fact, Nightshade’s entirely absent from “Outtakes” as anything but a brief visual cameo.) “Hashtag: Oops” does still manage to establish some key parts of Nightshade’s personality. Firstly, their comfort in themselves as they proclaim they don’t need an alt-mode (“I like who I am as I am.”) Secondly, their inclination towards tech and engineering as they secretly build a new underground base to surprise their family and give everyone more room to operate within. The latter also indicates their “better to ask forgiveness than permission” approach to their tinkering and scientific work. Which comes back around in a big way during “Missed Connection.”

Which finally brings us to the episode that’s the primary reason I’m writing this piece at all!

“Missed Connection”

Being Nightshade’s first proper focus episode in the series, their current state as part of the ensemble cast gets reestablished in short order. Namely, how they feel out of place around their siblings. Their affinity for science and technology leads to them making their own fun separate from the rest of the family. A pattern that gets highlighted by Nightshade working to perfect a new training drone while the rest of their siblings are playing a game of tag outdoors in celebration of Robby and Mo having the day off school. When later questioned by Alex and Dot about why they don’t spend more time with the rest of the family, Nightshade says it feels like their siblings treat them like they’re “speaking another language.”

This sense of isolation informs why Nightshade is so eager later in the episode when they find a connection with Tarantulas’ own work with tech. Simultaneously providing an opportunity for Alex to offer them something they can connect with while trying to figure out how to connect with others. Like any good nerdy dad, he does it through the magic of reading. He offers Nightshade a copy of his favorite book from when he was growing up, “Winged Sentinel”, an in-universe fantasy/sci-fi series they immediately connect with and find new aspirations. Which we hear as they repeatedly call back to the books like about its hero “protecting those in need.” Their connection to this book quickly leads to the one they find working with Tarantulas, as they were in the local cemetery since it was the “last known address” of Winged Sentinel’s author.

(Quick aside: First time I watched this episode, that detail had me thinking the show was going to do a “Nightshade learns about mortality” type of story. I was relieved when not only did Nightshade grok what happened to the author pretty fast, but the episode in turn swiftly shifted to the dynamic between Tarantulas and them.)

“Missed Connection” finds its central theme in Nightshade and Tarantulas’ discussions on identity and finding one’s place within that world rife with conflict that can be directly hostile to those like them. There’s a recurrent motif in the dialogue of Tarantulas’ cynicism born from eons of experience and Nightshade’s youthful enthusiasm. Though cynicism is far from all the elder Transformer has to offer, as he also provides Nightshade with a new perspective on alt-modes they hadn’t considered and ultimately guides them to their choice.

Nightshade: Aren’t I sufficient as I am? Tarantulas: Alt-forms aren’t meant to complete you, as though you have a missing part, they further express who you already are.

Combining that with Tarantulas’ frustration at the “constrictive labels” of Autobot/Decepticon adds to the resonance this episode has with the nonbinary experience. The concept of “passing” gets explicitly evoked by him while discussing his plan to create a hard-light hologram projector so he can live freely as a human while evading GHOST’s forces. Which is the first proper disguise Tarantulas has taken in his life. While his giant spider alt-mode may provide plenty of utility, it’s anything but discreet.

His plan and attitude informing on it connects back to the broader central theme of EarthSpark as a series of the Transformers finding a new way to live on Earth among humanity with the Terrans representing the way forward. He can’t see a way forward besides hiding who he is and the only safety he can think to offer Nightshade is to join him in that life of discretion. His outlook’s best emphasized by his assuredness that the Autobot/Decepticon War resuming is inevitable, alongside that eventuality dragging him out of whatever peace he does find.

However, cracks in Tarantulas’ bleak worldview show as he begins to admire Nightshade’s exuberant demeanor and determination to be a protector. That admiration for a Transformer with the potential to live unburdened by all the hardships he’s seen leads to him delivering the best, most resonant line in the episode:

“It is a gift to know yourself so well, so young. Take pride in that.”

A beautiful sentiment aimed directly at members of EarthSpark’s target demographic on their own journeys to express their identities.

Unfortunately, the bond these characters have found can’t last. When Tarantulas recognizes Dot as an agent of GHOST, he acts rashly under the assumption that she’s holding Nightshade prisoner. He kidnaps Alex and her, planning to erase Nightshade from their memories so they can go into hiding with him. As a fight between the bots eventually breaks out, Nightshade commits to acting like the protector they aspire to be and chooses the alt-mode of a green armored owl, based on the hero of Winged Sentinel. (Alex’s proud declaration of “You read the book!” while witnessing this is great.) A form that isn’t a disguise but expresses themself as they are and what they want to be going forward.

Nightshade and Tarantulas’ conflict has grown intense enough by this point that the elder Transformer’s admiration for the young bot doesn’t come through in his reaction. Rather he flips it into an insult providing Nightshade their opportunity for a sharp, direct retort (and other best line in the episode):

Tarantulas: You’re still just the lost protoform I first met! Nightshade: You’ve just proven you don’t really know me, because I was never lost!

When the fight ends with Tarantulas’ hologram projector destroyed in the skirmish, Nightshade reflects on words Dot offered them earlier about how everyone deserves a second chance and convinces their family not to hurt Tarantulas any further. However, it seems to be a decision out of their hands as GHOST is drawn to their location by the fight. Tarantulas, finally understanding Nightshade’s situation as well as who they are, offers himself up as bait to lure GHOST away from the Maltos. Running off into the forest as Nightshade reflects on the broken hologram projector the two of them made.

Multiple rewatches of this episode, as well as the first season of EarthSpark as a whole, has reaffirmed it as my favorite episode of the show so far. The tight focus of the dynamic between Nightshade and Tarantulas, alongside the deeper meaning that can be taken from pretty much every exchange between the two, is exemplary of what makes this series standout wonderfully as part of the vast Transformers canon.

After “Missed Connection”

Since there’s not that much of the first season left after “Missed Connection”, Nightshade’s once again mostly off to the side doing their own thing. But there are small bits that show how their experiences in that episode have changed them. They actively spend more time around the rest of the Malto Family, like helping Bumblebee train for an upcoming race and showing that they’ve formed a bond built on mutual tech-obsession with their sister, Hashtag, as they work together to further upgrade the underground headquarters. 

We also get a fun minor bit of their “better to ask forgiveness…” way of operating when they add some high tech bells and whistles to Dot’s prosthetic leg as a Mother’s Day present in the episode “Bear Necessities.” A plot point that later gives the show an opportunity for Dot and Nightshade to have a nice mother-child bonding moment as she explains to them why she liked her leg the way it was in terms they can understand (“something like this is personal”) while not completely shutting them down over it (“I’m open to some small changes, but they’ll have to be ones we come up with together.”)

Though the biggest moment post “Missed Connection” moment for the character, as well as my personal favorite single scene in EarthSpark so far, comes from their subplot in the season 1 two-parter episode “Home.” As the Malto kids and the Terrans go into Philadelphia to see more of the wider world, we get to see Nightshade continue acting as a protector for those in need as they save a young person named Sam from getting mugged in an alley. Nightshade notices a pin that says “SHE/THEY” on Sam’s handbag and tells her their pronouns in return. The two end up having a conversation about how the things that make them who they are can also make them targets for intolerantly minded people. This interaction ends with Sam affirming they feel safe around Nightshade and giving the young Transformer a simple but effective explanation of what being nonbinary means.

This not only gives Nightshade further context to understand themself, but also has the important touch from a metaperspective of having a human character be the one to explain the concept. An effective dodge of what’s frequently cited as a pitfall of using aliens/robots to explore these facets of human identity, making it as clear as possible for anyone watching (especially the target demographic of kids) that Nightshade’s nonbinary identity is in no way just a product of their being an alien robot. Rather, it's an identity that simply feels right for some people living in the world. One that people who identify with it and explore their connections to it can find immensely fulfilling. 

Or, as Nightshade puts it at the end of this conversation:

“What a wonderful word, for a wonderful experience.”

(Before I dive into my conclusion, I want to say I deeply hope this isn’t the last we see of Sam in the series. Both for representation’s sake and because I like seeing the Terrans bond with humans outside of their immediate family circle.)

It would feel wrong to end this look at Nightshade’s character and how that reflects on the best qualities of EarthSpark as a series without giving proper credit to the creative voices involved in bringing them to life. Namely, writer Mae Catt (she/they) who wrote the episode “Missed Connection” and one of the three writers on “Home”, the other two being showrunners Nicole Dubuc and Dale Malinkowski. While fundamentally I believe anyone could write any kind of story, authenticity comes through stronger when writers from the same background are involved. Catt’s passion for writing this show comes through beautifully in these episodes and in how they’ve discussed the show on social media.

Her understanding for what these characters and stories can mean to the young people watching gets clearly reflected in recurrent elements of EarthSpark’s story. Aside from Nightshade’s admiration for the main character of the Winged Sentinel novels, we also see moments in other episodes of their siblings trying to figure out what being a Transformers means through in-universe Transformers comic books telling the story of the Autobot/Decepticon War. 

It’s also what drove me to write this piece. I see Nightshade in all their creative, expressive glory and it makes me happy for the kids watching Transformers: EarthSpark, seeing them, and relating to them. Every story has the potential to be a guide someone out there can use to move closer to their heart. Nightshade’s being that guide to nonbinary kids now in a way I never could’ve dreamed of growing up is, simply put, wonderful.

Happy Pride! 💛🤍💜🖤

If you like what you’ve read here, please like/reblog or share elsewhere online, follow me on Twitter (@WC_WIT), and consider throwing some support my way at either Ko-Fi.com or Patreon.com at the extension “/witswriting”

[berryblooo]

Mona, Albedo, and Wanderer: Truth-Seekers & Defiers of Fate

Cross-posting from HoYoLAB.

What do an alchemist, an astrologist, and a wanderer have in common?

A lot, as it turns out, in terms of design, literary themes, and lore implications.

Allow me to connect seemingly unrelated dots between these three characters. Perhaps by the end of this you too will be eagerly anticipating an event or quest that features all three some day.

Scholars

Albedo is a genius alchemist, working for the Knights of Favonius as Mondstadt's Chief Alchemist. His knowledge in alchemy goes beyond what even the Sumeru Akademiya possesses, the Art of Khemia from Khaenri'ah.

Mona is a genius astrologist and one of the few practitioners of Hydromancy. Her reputation as an astrologer led to her being asked to take on the All Things Astrological column in Fontaine's newsletter, The Steambird. Her work is revered in the Rtawahist Darshan at the Sumeru Akademiya.

Wanderer, known as ‘Hat Guy’ among the students of the Vahumana Darshan, has become an ad-hoc student of theirs after his papers refuting the popular academic theories surrounding the Tartarsuna incident became popular. He later wrote pieces about Inazuman politics that garnered acclaim. Apparently having a knack for academia, he’s been invited to Vahumana lectures and was able to serve as its representative in the Akademiya Showdown.

Appreciators of the Arts

Albedo is an artist, who has illustrated A Legend of Sword books under the pseudonym Calx and was invited to Inazuma during the Irodori Festival held after the nation opened its borders to illustrate the Five Kasen paintings.

Mona enjoys singing and does so while stargazing. During the 2.8 Summertime Odyssey event, she accepts Xinyan's offer to give her voice lessons.

During his time as Kabukimono living at the Mikage Furnace, he learned how to sword dance and would perform alongside the other blacksmiths. His talents and their excerpts, constellation, and namecard reference theater and poetry, which may indicate his interest in those arts.

The Sun, Moon, and Stars

The Geo construct Albedo creates is called the Solar Isotoma, and his 3rd Constellation is titled "Grace of Helios".

Albedo's namecard is titled "Sun Blossom".

Albedo's splash art and Solar Isotoma design features flower and sun-like imagery.

The name, Mona, means "Moon" in Old English.

Her redesigned outfit is titled "Pact of Stars and Moon" and features crescent moon pendants on her hat and leg.

The eight-pointed star on the pendants has likely influence from the Star of Ishtar, the inspiration for Teyvat's Istaroth, who may have some connection to the three moon sisters.

Her 2nd constellation is titled "Lunar Chain".

Mona's namecard is titled "Starry Sky".

Naturally, as an astrologist, she also has countless star-related symbolism which are fairly obvious.

Two of Wanderer's constellations have moon-related names. His 2nd constellation is "Niban: Moonlit Isle Amidst White Waves" and his 3rd constellation is "Sanban: Moonflower Kusemai".

Interestingly, Wanderer's splash art is different from most other Anemo characters in that the elements surrounding him are more black and navy than turquoise, and features a galaxy and star design.

What defines a human?

Albedo and Scaramouche are both artificial beings, homunculus and puppet respectively.

Albedo was created by his mother, Rhinedottir, using an ancient technique from Khaenri'ah called Khemia. He was part of her Primordial Human project and was the last of her (known) creations, considered her magnum opus. The only evidence of his being a creation is the pontil mark she left on the front of his throat, his one "imperfection" that makes him human. Rhinedottir considers him her son and only child left.

Wanderer was created by his mother, Ei, using an ancient technique now lost. It's implied Irminsul was used in his creation. He was the prototype puppet made for the purpose of storing the Electro Gnosis, but was deemed too weak when he cried while storing it and was thus left to sleep in Shakkei Pavilion with only a plume to signify his connection to the Shogun. He bears the Electro symbol on the back of his neck, the complement to Ei's.

It's unknown whether Albedo is immortal or ages differently than humans, while Wanderer has lived for nearly 500 years, created just after Makoto's death during the Cataclysm. He has always appeared as a beautiful young man, never aging.

In Mona's voicelines about other characters, she almost always references their constellations and interprets parts of their fate from them. The only exception is her voiceline about Albedo. It's speculated that the reason Mona doesn't comment on it is that she's aware of him being a homunculus and purposefully does not reveal his secret.

In the same vein, when Mona first meets Scaramouche during Unreconciled Stars, she is immediately able to see through his facade and tell that he is both a Fatui Harbinger and that he had killing intent towards the Traveler. After Mona teleports the group away, Scaramouche himself wonders if she was able to figure out his true identity—which, during 1.1, players take to mean him being a Harbinger. Looking back, it's likely he meant him being a puppet with powers close to Archon level.

Albedo and Wanderer both represent questions about what makes one human, on both a physical and spiritual level.

"The difference between synthetic and natural life lies in the directional flow of the life force. The energy of a natural life form flows out from within. That's why flower buds bloom and curled leaves unfold. It is the very reason we watch in wonder at blossoming flowers. Creating life artificially, on the other hand, involves — to a certain extent — the introduction of an external source of energy into the embryonic life form. When the hole where the life force was infused is sealed at the end, it leaves a mark not dissimilar to the pontil mark in blown glass wares. The alchemical substance drips and spreads out in all directions, resulting in this rather ingenious diamond shape. This mark is a sign of my artificial origins, and proof of my imperfection as a human."

Albedo, Shadows Amidst Snowstorms, Act II: The Shadow Deepens

"But Subject Two wanted to become a perfected human. So, he erased the mark on both his and Subject Three's necks, for these marks were a symbol of imperfection... He so desperately craved to become a perfect human being that he forgot something: Human beings are defined by their flaws."

Albedo, Shadows Amidst Snowstorms, Act III: A Secret Born From Ashes

"As beings who set foot in this world, how arrogant are we in desiring to control our destiny, and in desiring to create?"

Albedo, Shadows Amidst Snowstorms, Act III: A Secret Born From Ashes

Wanderer: In your eyes, are there any differences between humans and puppets? Nahida: Do you think there are any differences between your present self and your previous and future incarnations? If not, then what are the differences between humans and puppets? Whoever has tasted the joys and sorrows of life in the human realm is human. Whoever has loved and lost, cried with grief, howled with rage at the tragedy of death that eclipses the miracle of life... they are human, too. Wanderer: I've always believed that human lives follow a set of rules, with each person being a collection of past experiences. As a puppet living in the human world, my life is subject to the same rules. I've lived with a void in my chest my whole life. My creator didn't need me, and ever since I awoke, I've just drifted from one place to the next. But then I met you, and I finally realized that reclaiming my missing sins might be my one opportunity to become my true self. I've always felt I have an innate tendency to yearn for something more, in a way that goes deeper than for most people... But for all my soul-searching as a shugenja, I've never fully understood it. Looking at it now, it seems that I brought this curse upon myself. So I beg you... grant me this opportunity to gain a purpose. To change my destiny and end my wandering.

Wanderer and Nahida, Interlude Chapter: Act III: Inversion of Genesis - The Kabukimono's Finale

Nahida: To be human is to live with imperfections. You can choose whether or not you want to be human. Wanderer: ...But humans can't live without a heart, can they? Anyway, I gave up trying to become a human a long time ago. Nahida: You understand what pain is perfectly well, even without a heart. You're just burying your feelings. The past is set in stone, but you can keep moving on. And the longer your future lasts, the shorter your past will become, until one day it is but a tiny fraction of your life.

Wanderer and Nahida, Interlude Chapter: Act III: Inversion of Genesis - As Though Morning Dew

We can see the similar themes of questioning what it means to be human, of recognizing and accepting imperfections as a part of their humanity for Albedo and Scaramouche.

How does Mona tie into all this? She isn't an artificial being. (As far as we know.)

Mona's Character Story 5 talks about similar themes, namely human hearts and the laws that (supposedly) govern them.

During her apprenticeship, Mona found that the subtle abstractions of her master's teachings could explain the laws that governed the existence of all things. Human hearts were guided by these laws, and if one had great enough powers of calculation, all the mysteries of the world could be understood. Mona once believed this to be true. But when she had to strike out on her own and live day-to-day, she found herself doubting. Not everyone lived wealthy and comfortable lives. Some neither had food nor warm clothes, living no differently from beggars. And it was just such an adventurer who, when meeting Mona while she was out looking for fruits and vegetables to fill her stomach, shared half their food with her. "Out here, we've gotta have each other's backs." This was not something inscribed on these so-called principles of the world. And many other such things she encountered on her journey — the honesty of a thief, a robber's change of heart, a coward's courage, the good deeds of a wicked person... Mona began to have some doubts, but she also felt like she finally had her feet on solid ground. When she was again alone with her thoughts under the stars, she marveled that her research had been so full of holes. Perhaps she would have to continue researching the world's principles for the rest of her life.

We see these same questions brought up by Wanderer at the start of his journey of repentance.

This story of the adventurer she meets is the same one that Mona references during her mirage in the Summer Odyssey event. She divined that if he continued adventuring, he would meet his death within two years. Despite this, the adventurer continued on. Mona believes him to be dead now, since fate is immutable and that encounter was over three years ago.

It's speculated that this adventurer is none other than Joserf, who gets lost on Dragonspine and does indeed meet his death. Except that during the Shadows Amidst Snowstorms events, Albedo uses a whopperflower to bring new life to "Joserf" and reunite "him" with his son, Joel.

In doing so, is Albedo rewriting fate?

Irminsul, Fate, and the Truth of the World

We know that Irminsul is tied to the fate and truth of Teyvat, and all three characters have ties to these themes.

Mona and Albedo are both apprentices/inheritors of knowledge of Hexenzirkel members: Barbeloth and Rhinedottir. The Hexenzirkel is known to embark on Irminsul explorations (which Albedo accompanied Gold on) and at least two members, Alice and Nicole, are implied to be immune or able to know when Irminsul tampering occurs.

Mona and Albedo share a common goal: to uncover the truth of this world. Albedo was tasked with this by Rhinedottir before her abrupt disappearance after discovering the Heart of Naberius, while it's currently unknown if Mona inherited this goal from Barbeloth or if it's her own.

Both are foreshadowed to incur a dark fate in their pursuit of the truth. In Mona's Collected Miscellany, Dainsleif says, "But beware, O young seeker. You must sacrifice your all to unravel the world's secrets," while Albedo is foreshadowed to lose control of his power or be susceptible to corruption and endanger Mondstadt.

As a student of the Vahumana Darshan, Wanderer studies the truth of history.

During his time as a Fatui Harbinger, Scaramouche was sent on missions to the Abyss by the Fatui, implied to be because of his ability to withstand and recovering from damage/attacks. We know that truly ancient Irminsul is located in the Abyss.

He is implied to be created from Irminsul and can navigate the memories stored within, as seen in Inversion of Genesis.

He tried to rewrite the past/fate by erasing himself from Irminsul but learns that fate cannot be changed. This is a line we hear often in game from none other that Astrologist Mona Megistus.

In the confrontation between Dottore and Nahida in the Akasha Pulses, the Kalpa Flame Rises, we learn that Irminsul hides the secret "truth" that "the sky and stars of Teyvat are fake".

This corroborates what Scaramouche said in Unreconciled Stars: that the stars, the sky are all a gigantic hoax. A lie.

Mona also corroborates what Scaramouche revealed: she said she was taught to talk about the false sky in her readings.

This means both the Fatui and the Hexenzirkel are aware of the false sky.

In Conclusion

Coincidentally (or perhaps not) all three were sent to Mondstadt.

Albedo was instructed by Rhinedottir to seek out Alice in Mondstadt and take up residence there.

Mona ends up in Mondstadt after being sent to retrieve something of Barbeloth's from Alice's successor (Klee) and when she accidentally reads her 50 year old diary, she feels forced to hide in the city lest she incur her master's wrath.

Scaramouche was chosen by Pierro to investigate the meteorites in Unreconciled Stars, and he speculates that the Jester not only knew what he would discover about the false sky, but that he wanted to frighten him with this information.

I believe all of this is building up the three of them meeting, whether as allies or rivals, in connection with the false sky/truth of the world plot. I feel there are too many connections between them for it not to be intentional.

Or it's all copium!

Bonus

Additional tidbits that didn't fit in with the rest.

According to Mona and Klee's voicelines, Albedo and Mona are friends/colleagues and meet regularly for meals and to play with Klee.

In the Irodori Festival, Albedo paints Kuronushi of the Five Kasen based on Scaramouche's likeness, which was only revealed when Hydro was applied to the canvas. Similar to the concept of Hydromany, which divines truth in the reflection of water.

The forging technique passed down from the Raiden Shogun to the Raiden Gokaden incorporates astrology into its process.

Barbeloth, Mona's master, likes hats and helps pick them out for people. (Like Klee, and maybe Mona as well.) She would probably appreciate Wanderer's taste in hats.

[tdciago]

Fargo: C and Ch

(Originally posted to Reddit on 1/20/24)

I want to point out a couple of significant things that Noah Hawley did with alphabet letters in the finale. You can reject my interpretation of their meaning, but we should at least acknowledge that they were done.

The first is the absence of the letter C, but its repeated use as a sound in a spoken phrase.

The episode title, Bisquik, leaves the letter c out of the brand name, even though we've seen the correct spelling on the box several times during season 5, and the product has been mentioned many times.

Lorraine, in her description of Roy's punishment, mentions that she's helping prisoners in cell blocks D, B, and A, but not C. Once again, the C is missing.

During the scene in Dot's house, the phrase "across the sea" is spoken three times. If we think of sea as c, this phrase becomes part of the motif that highlights the letter c in this episode. We've also had references to "seeing" throughout this season, including eye patches and complete blindness, or lack of seeing/c-ing.

One of the meanings of C is cancer, as in the big C. Roy has said, "Cancer can't survive outside of the body," and Jordan Seymore repeatedly emphasized that he had cancer, and that, "I need this cancer out of me!"

Cigarette smoking is a major cause of cancer, and Lorraine gives Roy a pack of cigarettes with the fictional brand name Original, as in "original sin."

This "gift" can be seen as paying off the Trojan horse idea that was depicted in the shot through the windmill blades, showing two buildings on the ranch configured like a Trojan horse. The blades of the windmill itself look like matches with red tips, and the windmill is a gravesite. We can associate this with the cancer-causing cigarettes accepted by Roy. They are presented as a gift (because he can theoretically use them to bargain away abuse), but they are actually something harmful, just like a Trojan horse.

Munch also mentions being approached by a man with a "wealthy horse" to be given food and two coins. This was also a Trojan horse, because the food was actually sin.

Munch's sins are like a cancer that he can't get out of him.

Now for the second unusual thing with letters in the finale.

In the space of a few minutes, we hear the words chili, cheddar, chopsticks, chocolate, chimpanzees, and choice. That's an odd assortment of words, particularly the decision to include chopsticks and chimpanzees. What's going on with all those ch words?

The letter combination ch is a digraph: "two letters used to represent one sound," from Greek di- "twice" (from PIE root *dwo- "two") + -graph "something written," from Greek graphe "writing," from graphein "to write, express by written characters," earlier "to draw, represent by lines drawn" (see -graphy)."

I've theorized that season 5 is a story being written by Gaear Grimsrud, the kidnapper and killer of Jean Lundegaard in the Fargo movie, and that he was representing himself in the narrative as two characters: Ole Munch and Roy Tillman.

Munch is the pancake lover who just wants some peace and quiet. Roy is the domineering Marlboro Man side of Gaear, who commits ruthless murders.

In the movie, another character says of Gaear, "You know, he looked like the Marlboro Man." She proposes that this may be a subconscious thing, "'cause he smoked a lot of Marlboros." And Noah Hawley described Roy's look as the Marlboro Man.

The purpose of writing this story would be to pay a debt to Jean in the only way possible now, and to gain her forgiveness and hopefully some measure of redemption.

Just as Dot (who represents Jean) gives Munch the biscuit and speaks of forgiveness, the movie theme music kicks in. The victim has forgiven the perpetrator. In the previous episode, the perpetrator literally pulled the victim from the grave, resurrecting her in the form of this fictional character, Dorothy Lyon.

The only thing left now is redemption. So Munch eats the biscuit and is apparently freed from the curse of sin. At the same time, Roy (his other half) is damned to eternal hell for the crimes he has committed.

So there is both acknowledgement of Gaear's crimes, and recognition that they deserve punishment, but also some measure of salvation in the fact that his victim forgives him.

This is my interpretation of the finale. I also believe these events are taking place, within the story, as a bardo in the afterlife, a liminal transition space in which earthly trauma and sins can be worked out before reincarnation, much like Camp Utopia was for the abused women in Linda. As Munch says, "This is the other side."

We've had various discussions before about reincarnation and cycles, and if we look back, there are a lot of hints along the way that could point to smoking and cancer. I think this is what the author is dying from.

However you interpret the finale, we should recognize that Noah Hawley was trying to convey something with his emphasis on C and Ch.

[rhoorl]

Week in Review | Dec. 17

Hi, how are you? It was another busy week around these parts both on and off Tumblr, so I’ll get right to the week in review:

Fics I read this week:

Frankie Morales

Gift Wrapped by @linzels-blog - As if the gray sweatpants weren’t enough, we get some dad!Frankie, competency kink, and a return to two characters I am really fond of!

Joel Miller

A Baker's Dozen - Three by @avastrasposts - If you haven't been keeping up with Mel's baking series, I suggest you change that. This entry with Joel made me swoon. 🫠

Nourish by @goodwithcheese - Fluffy Joel plus an Ellie appearance equals a cute fun, read.

Under the Stars by @undercoverpena - This captured post-outbreak life so beautifully!

Dieter Bravo

Give To Me by @sp00kymulderr - If you've read Working Title then you know I have a particular fondness for Dieter, especially when he's sweet and sensitive. This fluffy one-shot hit me in all my Dieter feels.

White Christmas by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin - This had all of the elements I love about Dieter rolled up into one. A sweet, chaotic man who is an absolute menace…all wrapped up in a tiny Santa hat 😉

Giflets

I had a few of these amazing giflets from @morallyinept built up on my TBR

Bad Acting Dieter 💋

Periscope Dave York 🧐

Domestic Spice Marcus Moreno 🌶️

Current Compulsory Series:

These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.

12 Days of XxxMas (Various) by @morallyinept - I haven’t read these yet but I will this week…I’m not ready.

Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - I’ve loved these!! I’m behind on some but I’m excited to see what else is in store for the month.

Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog 

Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings 

Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I 

Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo 

It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - 

OTHER CHARACTERS

Pete Dunham

This section is usually reserved for a Garrett character (mostly Benny), but this week I caught up on the Like My Dreams series from @laurfilijames which followed Pete Dunham from Green Street Hooligans. Younger Jess was very obsessed with that movie and Pete and it’s been a fun trip down memory lane to rewatch that movie and then devour this delicious fic!

Posts from the week:

Anyone else lose their minds when they saw this clip/article about Charlie Hunnam signing on as a potential producer for Triple Fronter 2? This has to happen right? Please? I’ll happily take on any role in the production crew.

These “Spot the Difference” posts from @mysterious-moonstruck-musings have been cracking me up.

Where are you sitting in this cafeteria? Me? Oh I’m happily at table 4.

In case you missed it @perotovar and @beskarandblasters put together a list highlighting some awesome writers (and I was so excited to see so many I call friends on the list!)! It was split up into two masterlists: Masterlist 1 | Masterlist 2

We had the return of Professor @legendary-pink-dot and the Catfish Pond PhD Degree Program.

I received a fun holiday-themed Delta Landscaping ask from @trulybetty.

Another plug for the Pickled Peña writing challenge. I actually have something written for this and I kind of like it?! I think it's funny...but that may also be me amused by my 4 a.m. ramblings.

Feral corner:

The Miller Brothers reunited and seeing both Charlie and Garrett in a suit gave me so many thots. Garrett going and making smoking look hot again … I don’t even know where to look here - the bun, the shoulders, the back.

This photo is so Working TItle Dieter coded I can’t even deal! Speaking of Dieter…here’s more of my boo. Actually, I’m not done, here’s another gifset.

Javi P is getting jealous so let’s get some Javi with messy hair in here. Oh what’s that? Some post-outbreak denim shirt-wearing Joel? I got you. But then Young Joel gets jealous so here’s some photos of his arms. And I can’t forget about my favorite pilot.

Things I watched:

Last Sunday I went to the movies and saw Wish. I thought it was a really cute movie and as a Disney fan I loved al of the little Easter eggs hidden throughout. I thought the songs were really cute too, it was a fun time and I can’t wait to show Baby Rhoorl this movie.

I was up late plotting and thotting one night and was flipping through the channels for some background noise and came across Troy and saw Baby Garrett. Seeing him next to Brad Pitt was quite a sight - they play cousins in the movie if you haven’t seen it. 

Personal Stuff

There’s been a lot happening at work this month and it’s derailed a bit of the progress I’ve been making on my health journey but I’m doing the best I can. I ran a few days this week, which was good! Mr Rhoorl and I had a date night and enjoyed a baby-free dinner out at a restaurant. 

Fic updates:

I put out a new episode of Delta Landscaping this week. Here’s a moodboard I made for it!

Benny Miller brain rot has settled into my brain and he’s all I can think about at the moment. As a result, I have a holiday-themed one-shot planned for tomorrow. Hoping to get an entry in one of my other series done this week, but we’ll see. 

I hope you have a great week! Drink some water and find something that makes you smile.

Masterlist

Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3

Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? Part Two

Are You Alone

[thefutureiswhat]

Updated Season 5 Finale Theory

FX Networks just put up a YouTube featurette titled "How to Be Minnesota Nice," featuring interviews with Noah Hawley and the cast.

Most notably, however, the video contains a pretty major spoiler from the Season 5 finale in the form of behind-the-scenes footage.

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Yes, that appears to be Lorraine and Indira visiting Roy in prison. Which would explain "Lorraine makes a visit" from the 5x10 episode description.

Aside from being shocked that FX would release such a huge plot point just days before the finale, this actually makes me kind of optimistic that my theory with @tdciago about three different endings will actually come true.

Because you're telling me that Roy goes from this...

...to prison?

We're going to see him shot or stabbed, running for his life, terrified and desperate, and then... actually, he's okay. He's just gonna go to prison instead.

I think this is just more proof that we're going to see three different endings in the finale. However, I think they will be presented to us in such a way that it will seem like one continuous story.

Maybe he'll be shot by Dot, and it will seem like he's dead. Dot gets rescued from the ranch and goes home to her family. But wait, Roy isn't dead. He's running through the fog, to the safety of the dugout... where he will be accidentally killed by Gator, who doesn't see him coming.

But wait, he actually survived that, too. And now Lorraine is visiting him in prison. I'm not saying this is exactly how it will go, but you get the idea. He seems dead, in two different ways, but then he's somehow alive.

At first glance, it will probably seem very confusing and extremely improbable. But there might be subtle clues that these are three different endings, rather than one far-fetched one.

One possibility, suggested by @tdciago, is that there will be subtle errors or inconsistencies in each ending that will call them into question. In one, for example, Dot might be making Bisquick, but the box has the brand name spelled incorrectly -- "Bisquik," like the episode title.

This will make viewers point and say, "Wait... that's not right. This must be the fake ending, and this other one is real!" But there will be details like that in each ending, making it impossible to tell which is the real one.

Something that might help us decide how to separate the endings is the music. There's an 8-minute piece on the Season 5 soundtrack called "Fargo Season 5 Main Theme (Secret Suite)." We haven't heard it yet this season.

It features three distinct versions of the Fargo TV series theme: a choral version, a twangy guitar version, and an electric guitar version. Maybe they will feature in each of three different endings, giving us an idea for how to separate them.

Or maybe none of this will come true, and the finale will totally surprise us. Either way, it's been a helluva ride.