#which is also… actually not quite right anymore because people from these groups have also won grammys today

[nonomives]

Hunt vs. Hunted AU

(a.k.a. Vampire Wally AU)

Meet the Kardashians—i mean the Pillars

Part 1 || 2 || 3

Character line-up (Oldest to youngest)

So a bit of character Info:

There were more of them, but given the dangers of the monster hunter's profession, theyre the only ones left.

Hannah Pillar

She isn't the actual eldest sibling of the bunch, but among those who are still alive and somewhat sane, she is the oldest. A former mercenary whose main weapons were firearms. She was quite successful in her career but a traumatic incident happened that led to her not being able to weild a gun anymore. She eventually got hired as a desk worker in H.A. (Hunter's Assossiation) mainly handing out missions or intel to monster hunters.

She has a stable relationship with all of her siblings, sometimes the person everyone tells their worries to. She's nutruing and mature, but can also be quite cold and strict when need be. She is also often apathetic to things around her, something that got carried over even after she stopped being a hunter.

Harvey Pillar

Acting second oldest, Harvey is the genius of the group, or so he constantly claims himself to be. There is truth to what he says though since he works as a researcher in H.A. where he gathers information about the various mythical creatures the company had captured. Once, he used to admire this type of work until witnessing a thing or two which led him to be quite nihilistic. He's mainly just in it for the bragging rights and the money now.

Complete drama queen. Heidonistic and arrogant, he can come off as an asshole once he opens his mouth. Hannah keeps him in check most of the time. He does try to act like a big brother but struggles to be sincere about anything because he thinks it's a weakness. Very insecure, easily gets envious, especially of Howdy. For as vocal as he is, he does have many skeletons in his closet.

Howdy Pillar

A very popular hunter that is crowned The Hero of the Century, succeeding his late older brother, Howard Pillar. This is all due to his countless instances of saving people from dangerous monsters, especially feral vampires. Add this and his family background, he was made the H.A.'s face man, appearing in many interviews and posters for the company. He is quite the busy man, and Hannah usually acts as his manager, helping him with his packed schedule.

Howdy is closest with Hannah, but he also enjoys the banters he gets with Harvey. Charismatic and witty, many would think he is a perfect person, the ideal hero. The reality of it though is that Howdy is only in it for the revenge of his deceased siblings. While he smiles and acts relaxed in public, he is otherwise serious and gruff. Doesnt trust easy either. He also doesnt like how the media portrays him and would try to avoid being detected by anybody while he's on the job.

Here's a sketch lol

Honey Pillar

The youngest of the group. She is the black sheep of the family, refusing to associate with H.A. or monster hunting in general, and choosing a career as an actress instead. Despite the controversy that came with this decision, Honey ended up becoming famous because of her alluring personality on the screen.

Aside from Hannah, she despises everyone. She hates Howdy especially because of an instance that lead to her twin sister's death and her loss of 2 arms. She hates Harvey a little less but prefers not talking to him at all. Honey is a drama queen herself, but in a less direct way.

[hyperlexichypatia]

In the 15 or so years that I’ve been actively involved in neurodivergent/Mad/disabled liberation, my perspective on “overdiagnosis” or “broadening the category of mental illness” has shifted a few times. 

At first, I uncritically agreed with what might be called the “mainstream, mad-lite” perspective that “broadening the category of mental illness” was a real thing worth objecting to – that doctors and schools were pathologizing emotions, traits, and behaviors that should rightfully fall under the range of “normal.” How terrible to pathologize grief, we said, when feeling pain and sadness at the loss of a loved one is perfectly normal! 

But by 2015, when the New York Times ran an article on pathologizing women’s emotions, I was sharply critical. I wrote this: 

This is the kind of thing I would've celebrated a few years ago as a baby neurodiversity activist. But now, please count me as completely over faux-revolutionary assertions that one, specific, particular group of people should not be pathologized. The argument essentially boils down to "Neurotypical women shouldn't be pathologized for being upset, because they have legitimate reason for being upset, unlike all those other hysterical, overreacting people who are upset for no good reason, who really need to be pathologized." I regard this the same way I do the endless spate of "ADHD isn't a real disease; it's just a label for people who are creative and misunderstood!" articles. No, ADHD isn't a disease, and no, ADHD-type people shouldn't be pathologized, but the emphasis on "isn't a REAL disease" implies "unlike those other neurological differences, which ARE real diseases." These articles and ideas are not inclusive or neurodiversity-positive. "The line between pathologized and non-pathologized people should be drawn in a different place" is not a radical argument. It serves to throw other pathologized people -- the so-called "actually disordered" or "seriously mentally ill" or "low-functioning" people from whom these arguments are so anxious to distance their subjects -- further under the bus. Furthermore, because the medical model conflates pathologization with entitlement to services, these arguments often actually throw even the people they argue to depathologize under the bus as well. Extreme emotional states shouldn't be pathologized in women (or in anyone), but many people who experience extreme emotional states choose to use medications or other medical services to manage them -- a choice that should be their right. Depathologization should not be used to deprive them of access to that choice. "You're not defective, so we know what's best for you" isn't actually that big an improvement over "You are defective, so we know what's best for you."

Now, 9 years later in 2024, I still stand by what I said in 2015. Arguing about where to draw the line between pathological and nonpathological, or how wide to make the circle of accepted normalcy, is a pointless and ultimately harmful argument. I have no interest in arguing “This group of people, specifically, shouldn’t be pathologized, because they’re not like that group of people, who should be pathologized.” No one should be pathologized – not the otherwise-neurotypical woman grieving a loss, and not the visibly neurodivergent person responding to stimuli no one else can perceive. We should settle for no less than acceptance for all; pathologization for none. 

But I also didn’t quite predict how far pathologization would reach in the following decade. 

I was thinking about this because, in a context completely unrelated to disability rights, I was thinking that liberalism as a mainstream ideology barely exists in the U.S. anymore. I expressed some of that concern here. “Freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and bodily autonomy are generally, in and of themselves, good” is not a particularly mainstream idea. 

“But,” you might be thinking, “Aren’t you always saying that liberals who profess to believe those things don’t really believe them, and never have, because they don’t apply them to disabled people, poor people, young people, and other marginalized people?” And yes, I am always saying that. Universal liberalism – truly universal – has never been mainstream in the U.S., or anywhere in the world. As I said here, if you ask people “Should people have the right to…?” you will get a lot of “Yes, of course” answers, but if you ask “What about a child? What about an intellectually disabled person? What about an unmedicated-by-choice schizophrenic person?” the answer will switch to “I don’t mean them” or “That’s an exception.” There are Normal People who deserve basic human rights, and Pathologized People, who don’t. 

The trend I’m seeing now, though, is that the “normal” non-pathologized subject doesn’t exist. Everyone is some degree of pathologized. Neurotypical privilege is still very much in effect, and there is still a vast difference between those who are perceived as relatively neurotypical and those who don’t. “Everyone is a little bit [whatever]” or “No one is really normal�� are ways of erasing and minimizing the very real neurotypical privilege, and corresponding neurodivergent oppression, that some people experience and some people don’t. Nevertheless, I’m seeing a real shift from “‘People’ by default means ‘normal’ neurotypical people, who deserve acceptance and freedom, but there are those ‘other’ people who don’t” to “No one is ever really ‘mentally healthy,’ so no one ever really deserves acceptance and freedom.” 

I talked a bit here about the premise that “Everyone needs therapy,” but I’m trying to think of the last time I actually saw that premise questioned. I’m thinking back trying to remember the last time I heard someone expressing the opinion “No, I don’t think you need therapy; I think that’s a normal thing, not a pathological thing.” 

I’m not saying a dividing line between pathologized and non-pathologized people was better! Not at all. And it was never absolute; non-pathologized people were always at risk of slipping into the pathologized category if they ever let their social conformity slip. As long as anyone is pathologized, everyone is at risk of being pathologized. 

But I’m saying that looking around, it feels like I wished for society to stop differentiating pathologized people from non-pathologized people, and the monkey’s paw gave me my wish. The argument “[Pathologized trait] isn’t that different from [non-pathologized trait]” isn’t effective, because there are no non-pathologized traits. Who, exactly, is considered “mentally healthy” or “emotionally mature” enough to be allowed to make decisions? Is anyone? If not, who is supposed to be in charge of us? Anybody with an audience who can successfully convince us that we’re “unhealthy” and need to be fixed, like the salesmen who convinced us that we all have a specific “attachment style”? I don’t know. I don’t know what the long-term effects of this cultural norm will be. Not good, to say the least. I know that it reminds me of certain strict, punitive strains of Christianity, with “trauma” taking the place of “original sin.” All have fallen short of the glory of Healing. But those people over there, they have fallen especially short. They need to be locked up. I know that the emphasis on relationships and interactions being “healthy” rather than respectful, consensual, and happy has pathologized a lot of respectful, consensual, happy relationships while allowing wildly disrespectful people to escape criticism because they’re “healthy.” I have no idea where universal-pathologization-culture is going, but I hope it’s not too late to turn it around. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for tattling?

This was a couple years ago. Our ages, at the time, were I believe as follows: Me, 16F

My sister, Jane, 13F

My other sister, Rose, 11F

My cousin, Scott, 15M

My other cousin, Georgia, 12F

I’m trying to write this in a way that, if one of them does stumble across it, they won’t know it’s talking about them. But all important details will be there.

We were staying over at Scott’s and generally having a great time. I could drive at that point, so we were having fun being away from parents and with me able to drive them (not too far, as we all have somewhat strict parents).

I was aware, somewhat, that Scott was addicted to smoking weed, this was something that had come up before, mostly in Jane and Scott’s conversations. My stance on this was “I don’t care what you do, it’s none of  my business, just please do it safely” due to past experience with self-destructive people. I didn't know that Jane also was doing drugs (unsure which) though not while we were out of town.

The rest of the group went off with Scott to meet his dealer, I stayed home to spend time with my very young cousin (6 at the time, I think). I knew where they were going. The only ones who had contact with the actual dealer were Scott and Jane, I double checked about that, I didn’t want Georgia or Rose getting involved in that.

That night, they were all sleeping in one room and I in the next room over (I’ve always been sort of an outcast among extended family, just due to being kind of odd). I stayed with them and talked until about 11:00, and I saw both Scott and Jane smoking. I knew they were planning on letting Georgia smoke as well, but that they said Rose was too young.

I didn’t care what they did. I went to sleep hours before them.

The next day, something tipped off our parents (probably the fact that the whole downstairs smelled like weed… still don’t know how they failed to consider that, honestly) and everyone got pulled away for questioning. My mom asked me if I knew anything, I said I went to bed early and hadn’t seen a thing. I was never even suspected, I’m seen as too much of a goody two shoes.

I was in the bathroom, hiding, because I was suddenly feeling very, very guilty about not stopping them. I knew drugs could cause issues (although I also think that, at the time, it was a good thing Scott had that to help him, as he was extremely depressed) especially for Georgia and Rose.

I ended up texting my mom and telling her that I actually had seen them smoking. She texted back saying that she’d already pretty much known, but I’d just confirmed it.

I’ve never quite been able to convince myself I did the right thing. It tore the group apart. We can’t be alone together anymore. Everyone is paranoid about this happening again now. Scott ended up turning to harder drugs and getting sent to rehab after an overdose.

I don’t know what I should’ve done, or if I responded right.

Was I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[supremechancellorrex]

I've been thinking about what the Bad Batch means to me these past few weeks and things just don't quite sit right. When I started watching the Clone Wars, it felt like a lot of love and care had been poured into the project. The clones had unique personalities built from the ground up, with even minor characters getting quirks. Hevy only appeared in two episodes, yet is so loved. Hardcase is missed despite only really appearing in one arc because of expert character crafting and real, actual effort with the writing.

The point of the Clone War was that the clones were individuals, they had agency and they could have an impact on their lives and others. Referred to as 'property', with no representation or rights, they are slave soldiers in function, who are biologically identical although at times with slight variation, but their personalities and motivations matter and have weight. This is why Fives nearly ruins Palpatine's plans. This is why Rex is able to resist the inhibitor chip in Order 66 and help save Ahsoka.

This is why I'm not sure I can forgive the Bad Batch.

Spitting on Grandpa

When the Bad Batch started, I was initially quite excited because it was advertised as a sequel to the Clone Wars. The first episode opens up with the title 'The Clone Wars' fading into the Bad Batch, but the show is anything but because the 'regs', as normal clones have been dubbed, don't matter now. Instead, the only characters with agency are a special group of clones who mostly don't look like the clones based on Jango Fett (Temuera Morrison) or even scientifically fit the basic definition of what a 'clone' is.

How is this not meant to be insulting for TCW and the Clone Fandom? I watch normal clones like Commander Wilco get shot in the face. I watch Mayday choke and die for Crosshair's development. I watch Rex play second fiddle to the Bad Batch on screen, the man and leader who used to always say "I'm always first, kid" and take the reins. I watch Cody appear for an episode only to not appear again this season and have no impact on the narrative other than Crosshair's development. Can 'regs' no longer change the world? Do the 'boring', 'regular' slave soldiers have no impact anymore?

Echo: "The fate of all the clones is now sealed because of us."

When it comes to normal clones impacting the narrative, the closest we get is Rex's resistance network, which features actual clones actually doing something. Yet apparently an episode about the Bad Batch discovering an island paradise world and battling a tsunami deserves more screen time than seeing how the 'regs' set that one up. Even this plot point is less about finally saving Howzer and normal clones like him, and more about Echo not being with the Bad Batch and further setting up the plot regarding Tech and Crosshair. The normal clones remain non-entities outside of the Bad Batch's development, they have no agency beyond this.

This is why we see stock reg clone characters bully the Bad Batch in the Season 1 opening, because despite them all being slaves under the thumb of fascism and the fact normal clones treated Ninety-Nine (the beloved hunchback clone from TCW Season 3) fine, it's the Bad Batch's plight that only matters now, their persecuted perspective on being special and better than the regs, regs that are now treated as old news, an afterthought. The world feels small, and inexcusably less richer than it was.

Essentially, we're no longer allowed to see what the reg clones motivations are, why there are reg clones that actually, canonically, dislike the Bad Batch as opposed to Ninety-Nine. People like to speculate, but on screen we are not shown or told in TBB. We're also not shown why all the named clones from Howzer, Mayday, Fireball, Gregor and Nemec to Cut, Cody and Rex never had issues with the differences other than they're the good regs I guess. Hell, even Cody and Mayday's remaining squad say nothing of Crosshair's mutations, not even one catty comment.

Conclusion

So, what does this mean? The Bad Batch steals the clones' agency and makes it their own. They wear the clone identity, but refuse to help normal 'reg slave' clones that look like actual clones in favour of focusing on themselves and their 'more important' personal problems. The Bad Batch are special not because of who they are or that they've worked hard, but because they look different from other clones, because they're just more capable and have special abilities. It's not who you are that counts, it's what you are.

And, now, I even see fans doing what TCW told us not to, disregarding normal clones, 'explaining' why the Bad Batch are fine to leave the reg clones to die because they called them "The Sad Batch" one time. Somehow the Bad Batch undoes all of TCW's work, stripping the clones of their agency and making them into just victims sleepwalking into extinction as we wait for the Bad Batch to consider trying to actively save them.

Echo: "The fate of all the clones is now sealed because of us."

And, then the rest of TBB go cave exploring and holidaying on Pabu. This series might as well be about natborns.

[found-wings]

I can‘t quite explain it, but I have some thoughts I want to share and want to so badly hear others opinions on it, too :

In which Duos / Groups do you think qPhil is the Sun to someones Moon?

It feels like such a silly question WHEEZE but it intrigues me, because I feel like there’s barely any people where Phil is actually the Sun.

With Emerald Duo as an example, I imagine that Phil here is most often the Sun to Technos Moon ( albeit their dynamic allows both things easily - they are each others guarding Stars, even ). It just feels right, it makes sense for me, y‘know? I adore the idea of how strong their bond is, Phil being the light that Techno cannot live without anymore - he can only shine with the light that Phil has given him and in return, he‘d give him the world and hang up the stars to see in the sky & don‘t even get me started on how willingly Phil would sacrifice his own light if it meant Techno could shine. I‘d imagine that after leaving the Antarctic Empire, Phil has „lost“ the light to be someone elses Sun again.

However with most other Duos or Groups I cannot imagine Phil being the Sun - while Phil is most often a light of hope that cannot be easily taken away, it‘s just not the same.

Take Death Duo, as an example. For the longest time even with Missa being away, Phil had held onto the hope of Missa keeping his word to return and thus Phil kept doing things not just for himself, Chayanne and later on Tallulah, but also for Missa in mind. He never said „Let’s warp to mine“ or „Warp to Phils House“, it was always „Phil and Missas“. The more time Missa was away from him, the more his own glow faded. With Missa returning, his ever so faded shine started blooming again and he was glowing. Missa is the Sun to Phils Moon. Phil sees the sunlight of him and holds onto the hope of Missas return every time. While sure, Phil does a lot to protect Missa and help him in getting everything together, I just can‘t imagine Missa as the Moon.

With a few Duos I‘m uncertain of - I could see that the Codebreakers would be a Duo that could match each other’s energy heavily but I‘d still insist that Phil would most likely be the Moon here. Etoiles is the Sun that is shown as the bright light of hope to fight and win against the Code Monsters, that the Eggs can be safe from them. Phil glows with Etoiles‘ light and trusts him in any combat situation.

Alternatively instead of being the Sun and Moon here, I could easily see Phil and Etoiles being the Stars to everyone else too, it just feels right.

Alright that‘ll be all about this part of rambling for now WHEEZE

[theteasetwrites]

Spellbound | Part 2

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Alexandria/Season 6-ish (non-Savior AU) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: slight SMUT (mostly just like groping and sexual language, as well as implied smut), mild language ❧ Word Count: 7.5k

❧ Summary: A year later, neither you nor Daryl can stop thinking about last Halloween, when the two of you first connected. This year, you're determined to try to get Daryl to officially come to your Halloween party, and Daryl is determined to make you his.

❧ A/N: Damn it's literally been a year since I posted the first part lol but here's part 2! I always intended to make a second part because there was so much sexual tension in the first one so I had to at least imply they have sex in the sequel... Also this is my first time writing in an AU where Negan and the Saviors just basically don't exist/don't have any contact with our group, so everything is pretty peaceful at this time! I definitely want to write more in a non-Savior AU because it's a lot easier to just imagine none of the Savior shit happened. And also it's what we deserve. Anyway, happy Halloween! I hope this gets you in the Halloween spirit lol.

A lot had changed in just a year, as was to be expected in the world you lived in. 

For the most part, though, everything was all right within the little world of Alexandria, which was becoming not so little anymore.

People came and went, but the walls expanded, and a few new buildings popped up (well, not without the help of the entire community, of course). Life was as close to normal as it could be in this world, where the dead walked and the living feared them. The biggest change in Alexandria was that now people were fighting back, taking the world back from the walkers’ cold dead hands. That was thanks, in large part, to the arrival of Rick’s group, just a little over a year ago now.

Rick’s group marked a turning point in the history of Alexandria, and when Deanna died, the torch was passed to the group’s fearless leader. He ran the place well, not with an iron fist, but with a steady, outstretched hand that kept everyone secure, confident in his leadership. 

By all accounts, Rick’s group coming to Alexandria last year was the best thing to happen in a long time. Most importantly, it felt safer. People were becoming fighters, defending the community from incoming herds throughout the year. And, of course, the walls were stronger now, reinforced with stronger steel beams. In every possible way, the town was secure.

But there was one thing that made you feel even more safe than any steel wall or trained militia—he was about five foot ten, with soft locks of wavy, albeit messy, brown hair, and a broad chest that connected to impossibly toned arms that flexed and bulged with every movement as he replaced the bolt in his crossbow, preparing another shot for you.

You bit your lip absentmindedly, watching him carefully as you tried to focus on his private lesson, but the man’s tendency to wear sleeveless shirts was always distracting, and you found that every lesson with him you’d had for the last month or so had been a little… unproductive.

He grunted as he pulled the string upwards, locking it tight. You’d been through the process several times, and yet you never stopped Daryl from explaining it to you over and over again, just for the chance to watch him do it.

“Now it’s locked in nice and tight,” he huffed, handing you the bow. “You’re ready to shoot.”

You cleared your throat, leveling the bow with your eyes. The thing was still much too heavy for you, though you really did try your hardest to hold it up as much as you could. Upper body strength wasn’t as easy for you as it was for your trainer.

Your hands were particularly shaky today, and maybe it was because you were nervous. Well, it was definitely because you were nervous—you were planning on asking Daryl to attend your third annual Halloween party. 

This time, you hoped he’d actually show up, before the party ended. 

“Quit shakin’,” he said, not with any harshness to his tone, but with the soft, gentle cadence of a supportive teacher. He was always such a good teacher, even if your attraction to him was a little distracting. 

“S-sorry.”

He cleared his throat from somewhere behind you, while you tried to focus on the target, spray painted on the side of the tree several yards away. 

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to recenter yourself before you shot, though the feeling of Daryl’s hands on you, one on your wrist and the other on your upper arm, stopped you from pulling the trigger.

Oh, God, you thought. He’s touching me again.

He’d done it before, trying to change your position or steady you like he was doing now, but you’d never get used to it. You should’ve known when he offered you private lessons that it would require him paying more… close attention to you, but you still always melted under his touch, becoming more pliable and bendable to his will.

“Just relax, girl,” he said quietly, and you swore you felt the breath of his words against your ear. “You’re all stiff. It ain’t ballet.”

His hands moved slowly, carefully, long your arm, painstakingly adjusting every bit of your hands, wrists, everything. Of course, he didn’t need to do that. Your position wasn’t that bad, but he liked it.

Oh, he really liked it.

When you first told him you were interested in learning to use the crossbow, he had a mind to offer you these lessons, just you and him, outside the walls. Not too far, just within range of Alexandria, but far enough to allow him more time with you.

Maybe it was obvious, but his feelings for you were strong, and hard to ignore. Ever since last Halloween, he’d thought about you in a more… intimate way. He always found you beautiful, but something about the way you looked in that witch costume was enchanting to him. He was half-convinced that you really did cast a spell on him that night, and that maybe you were a witch after all. 

And so when he got the opportunity to touch you a little, he took it, and with every lesson, he became more brave.

“Don’t take your eye off the target,” he practically whispered. He himself didn’t follow his own rules, as his eyes trailed aimlessly up and down your arms, goosebumps forming on your exposed skin from the cool autumn breeze, or maybe it was from him. 

When your arms began to lose strength and you lowered them just a little, he was quick to lift them back up, taking some of the weight from you as he held tighter to your wrist. He knew he shouldn’t do that, but he also couldn’t stand to leave you hanging, and he wanted you to get a bullseye. Maybe he was a shitty teacher in that regard, but he liked that smile and that laugh of yours, so if you shot well, he was sure he’d be rewarded with that.

Soon you felt his chest hard up against your shoulder, and the tips of his hair tickling your neck… That neck…

If he were a vampire, he’d be spoiled. He was in the perfect position to clamp down on it, not with his teeth, but with his lips. His hungry, starving mouth… A year of pining for you, sometimes getting very close to you only for his shyness to get in the way, made him ravenous, like a werewolf stalking the moonlit wood for his prey. 

He was a beast for you, and that scared him, but most of all, it excited him. He wondered if you felt the same, or if his beastliness frightened you beyond excitement. That’s why he moved and spoke gently, not trying to be rough or harsh with you. A powerful sorceress such as yourself deserved that respect.

Still, it didn’t stop him from all but salivating at the sight of your sweet neck, straining with slightly exposed veins as you began to breathe heavily, panting in your anticipation. 

His heartbeat raced, too, and you felt its steady, quick pace against your side. It thumped wildly, exciting you. Adrenaline tightened your aim and steadied your shaky arms. 

“That’s it, good,” he said, letting go of you just a little bit, but keeping his body just where it was. He liked to share your warmth. “Pull it.”

With another deep sigh, you pulled the trigger, sending the newly sharpened bolt through the air. It didn’t hit the bullseye, but it was on the outer red ring of the target, and that was the best shot you’d gotten this far.

Your eyes widened as you turned to face Daryl, who shook his head in amusement. “Oh my god!” you laughed. “That was pretty good!”

“See, it ain’t so hard.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Robin Hood.” You turned to admire the bolt protruding on the edge of the target. “Thanks, Daryl.”

“Ain’t nothin’.” 

“It’s everything.”

A flame sparked in each of his cheeks, and to prevent you from seeing, he walked past you to retrieve his bolt. His confidence seemed to swell for a moment, now that he wasn’t facing you. “So, uh… got any plans tomorrow?”

Is… is he asking me out? No, no way. 

Considering you were hoping to ask him to attend your party, the sudden outburst threw you for a loop, and for a few moments, you stared wide-eyed at him.

Shit, he thought. I’m a dumbass. 

“I mean,” he said, breaking the silence, “I know it’s Halloween, or whatever.” He cleared his throat, fiddling with the bolt in his hands as he avoided too direct eye contact. “Kinda felt bad, thinkin’ about last year.”

You tilted your head in genuine confusion. Why would he feel bad about that?

“Nothing to feel bad about,” you replied. “Why would you feel bad?”

“Well, ‘cause, ya know, I, uh, missed it.”

“But you showed up afterwards. That meant a lot to me.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts.” You trudged forward through the mud, caused by yesterday’s rainfall. When you got close enough to him, you ventured to hold his hand. Any other man, and you’d never want to touch him, but Daryl was different, and you rather liked touching him. He seemed to like touching you, too. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me. It makes up for last Halloween… But if you really wanna make up for it, you should come to this year’s party.”

He smirked, playfully swinging your arm as he held your hand in his. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and he couldn’t help but notice that little sparkle you had. It was subtle, but he noticed, just as he noticed every little detail about you—the gently sloped curves of your upper lip, the angelic contours of your face, the way your hair color shifted in different lights. Everything. 

Others remarked that you were pretty, but for Daryl, that was an insult to the pure, otherworldly beauty you possessed, inside and out. Your kindness only made you more attractive to him, more utterly bewitched by you. It was in the way you never let anyone feel forgotten or alone, and he remembered that feeling from last Halloween night, and every night thereafter so far. You made an effort to make him feel welcome, despite his scruffy appearance and his sometimes aloof demeanor. 

Something about you made him feel safe, too, free of judgment and presumption. Funny—he made you feel safe in a different way. Well, in every way. 

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at your fingers curled around his hand. “You want me to come?”

“Of course I do. It starts tomorrow at dusk… What, are you busy? You got a big date with some girl I don’t know about?”

“No,” he replied quickly, and quite seriously. “Uh, I mean… nah.”

“Good,” you laughed, tugging his hand to lead him back towards the gate with you. “So, what costume are you going to wear?”

His silvery blue eyes widened adorably at that word “costume.” What the hell kind of costume would he wear? All he had in his closet were several black button up shirts with the sleeves lobbed off and a few pairs of tattered jeans. The fact that he was even considering wearing a costume just to impress you made him realize just how head over heels he was. And then you smiled so wide, biting your lip just a little as you looked at him, still holding his hand as you walked slowly, savoring the moment. Walking with his hand in yours was just too sweet of a feeling, you couldn’t possibly let it go. 

“So?” you asked, and he shook his head to get out of his intrusive thoughts.

“I, uh… I don’t got a costume, (Y/N).”

He looked so cute, genuinely concerned you’d be upset with that not so surprising admission. You figured Daryl didn’t have any Halloween costumes. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to really care that much about dressing up. 

“That’s okay,” you replied. “You don’t really have to dress up, I just thought I’d ask.”

“Well, uh… ain’t you gonna dress up?”

“Mhm.”

Oh, that intrigued him.

He had to admit, ever since seeing you in that costume last year, he hadn’t been able to get that image of you dressed as a witch from his mind. He memorized every detail of your corseted dress, how it sucked in your waist so delicately, and yet so wonderfully highlighted the curves of your body. Of course, he couldn’t help but pay special attention to your cleavage, that low cut collar revealing not too much of your supple breasts, but just enough that he could imagine the rest of you. The hem of the dress wasn’t particularly revealing of your legs, but the sliver of your skin he did see made him a little more excited than he liked to admit. Even that adorable pointed witch hat that sat askew on your head was attractive to him.

It wasn’t lost on him, either, that you had been so… committed to the witch role last year. He couldn’t forget the tone of your voice when you said, “Maybe I’m a real witch… You better watch out.” A simple joke, perhaps, and maybe you were still a little tipsy from the party, but he always wondered if you really did put a spell on him. Not that he believed in that kind of thing, of course, but it was kind of sexy to think about. 

“You gonna be a witch again?” he asked, a little too overenthusiastically. “I mean, just wonderin’.”

“Yeah, I like my witch costume, and you can’t go wrong with a classic.”

He nodded, still loosely holding your hand. How was he to let go when it fit there so perfectly? Still, he’d be sure to let go once you got closer to the walls. He knew whoever was on watch would have some wise ass comment to make. Besides, this was friendly hand-holding, he assumed, even if he wanted it to mean something else.

“I like that costume,” he said. “S’perfect for ya.”

You giggled a little too loudly, then cleared your throat. Control yourself, whore, you thought. 

“Thank you… I was thinking of cutting my dress so it’s a bit shorter, though.”

The sweat from his hand was getting to become much more noticeable, so he pulled it away, wiping it on his jeans as he swallowed hard, nodding nervously. “Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered. “Think that would look good. How, uh… how short?”

You sighed as you thought. “Oh, um… maybe up to here.” You reached down as you walked to gesture to your mid-thigh, and his eyes glued there a little too long, though you didn’t notice. “Or is that, I don’t know, ‘slutty’?” You gestured your hands to make air quotes. 

“Nah,” he replied gruffly, yet in that good natured tone of his. “Not at all. ‘Sides, don’t matter anyway. Can dress however you want. Any guys give you trouble, though, I’ll be there to set ‘em straight.”

“Oh?”

Daryl’s protective side always made you weak at the knees. You could never forget that time he warded off some unwanted male attention during one of your training classes. Some guy named Alex had been staring at your behind throughout the session, and Daryl’s response was to call the man out in front of the entire rest of the class, saying,  “Eyes on me, unless you wanna die.”

Of course, he could’ve been referring to the fact that not paying attention to Daryl’s instruction would get the man killed outside the walls, but Alex got the real implication behind the message, and he never attended another class.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ll be there.”

You hardly got any sleep that night, both because you were busy baking three dozen Halloween cupcakes, and because that damn man had your heart all aflutter. 

As far as you were concerned, Daryl was like the star athlete, the most popular boy in school, Alexandria’s most eligible bachelor. Now, perhaps for most women in town, that title would go to someone like the tall, conventionally handsome Spencer Monroe, but for you, there was only room in your heart for that dashing, mysterious, ruggedly handsome man called Daryl Dixon. 

Other women did appreciate Daryl’s unique charms, too, but you prided yourself on being closer to him. He was intimidating, you could admit that. It was hard to break through that shell, and sometimes you were sure that you still hadn’t. Hours of talking, though, proved to be the best way to get to know him, and in a lot of ways, you felt that he was your best friend. Indeed, he felt the same way, and despite his aloofness, he found himself opening up to you more than he had anyone else in his life.

What you liked about Daryl was his loyalty, his undying devotion to Alexandria and the people within it. Rick cared about Alexandria, too, but Daryl? He would lay down his life for these people… For you. 

So, yes—your infatuation with the quiet, dark haired marksman only grew with time. A year of his attentive, almost intimate, training had fed your attraction. Still, you hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than, say, innocently kiss his cheek when he dropped you off at your doorstep after nightfall, or “accidentally” fall asleep on his shoulder on long car rides to the Hilltop or the Kingdom or Oceanside. 

Tonight… maybe something would happen tonight. 

You were a firm believer in letting nature take its course, so that’s what you planned to do. You just hoped that Mother Nature was on your side.

Three hours before dusk, you were almost ready, except for your costume. As you had told Daryl you would do, you cut several inches off the hem of the dress,  until it reached your mid thighs. The edges were jagged, but you supposed that matched the witchy look. As you tied your corset top, you were careful to… hoist up your breasts until they appeared to practically spill out of your dress, but isn’t that the best part of a corset, the way they make a woman’s chest look? Yes, most certainly yes.

A once expensive choker with a silver chain and several black opals sat not too tight, but not too loose, around the base of your neck. Your hair didn’t need much fixing, as the witch hat did most of the work. You dusted deep brownish red rouge on the apples of your cheeks, matching perfectly with the dark, purple tinted carmine shade coating your lips. The blur of mauve upon your eyelids, sprinkled with a smattering of iridescent glitter, made your eye color seem more vibrant, and your overall aura more… enchanting.

There wasn’t much time to admire your handiwork, as the first guests soon arrived. It was a large group, thank God, but no sign of Daryl, the guest of honor. Indeed, a part of you was already crushed, preparing for the worst. Self-preservation taught you to always be ready in case of rejection, and Daryl was not a man to be easily won, you thought. 

About an hour into the night, your living room was a bonafide soirée. Guests poured in through the front door, now too many to receive a personal greeting from the hostess. You were swarmed with faces, all familiar, but still the face you longed to see most was not among them.

Music was a luxury, and Halloween was the one night of the year that the big speakers were hauled out from storage. Of course, they weren’t half as loud as they could be, but the ever-present threat of walkers outside the walls deterred anyone from turning up the music too much.

You’d found a Halloween mixtape not long ago, packed with the essentials—“Thriller,” “Monster Mash,” “(Don’t Fear) the Reaper”… It seemed to go well. Those overplayed hits were a welcome sound after living in a world where music was seldom a part of everyday life.

Two hours in, and no sign of Daryl. Granted, the party was still in full force, and showed no signs of stopping. Even with the overstimulation of the music and the purple and green lights adorning your home, you could still only think of one man. One broad-shouldered, gruff-voiced man.

“Have you seen Daryl?” you found yourself asking Glenn, both of you cornered as you watched the other partygoers. You figured he might know where Daryl was. After all, he was rather close to Daryl, too. “He said he’d be here.”

He shook his head as he took a sip from his red Solo cup. “No, but don’t worry. He offered a smile. Reassuring, but you couldn’t smile back. “He’ll come. You know how he is about parties.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. In the distance, you spotted Eugene awkwardly shuffling through the crowd, tripping over a few pairs of dancing feet. “I just hope he doesn’t feel—”

“Good evening, (Y/N).” Eugene’s southern accent cut through your sentence, catching you off guard. You blinked and assessed his person—he was dressed up as a cowboy, complete with boots, hat, and a bolo tie. “I trust you are in good spirits this Hallow’s Eve.”

“Hi, Eugene,” you said. “I love your costume.”

“It’s great,” added Glenn. “That tie is awesome.”

“Many thanks,” he replied, then lifted his bolo tie. “Procured this beauty from a ramshackle pawn shop a fortnight ago. The cord is no less than genuine braided leather, and these aiguillettes are really somethin’, they’re—”

“I’ll be right back,” interrupted Glenn. “I gotta find Maggie. Lost her in the crowd.”

Don’t leave me alone with him. “Okay, sounds good.”

“Anyway, as I was sayin’, the aiguillettes are, by my reckoning, sterling silver, with a millesimal fineness of nine twenty-five. Now, sterling silver is most often alloyed with copper, but I believe this silver was alloyed with the chemical element germanium to reduce tarnishing, to which sterling silver is prone.”

You nodded absentmindedly, with absolutely no interest in Eugene’s rambling. Usually, you tried to be more attentive, but your anxiety trumped any desire to seem alert.

“(Y/N)?” Eugene’s voice cut through your haze, and you wondered how much he had spoken before he got your attention again. “You all right?”

“Mhm, never better.”

Eugene smiled sheepishly, and nodded as he spoke. “Well, uh… pardon my abrupt inquiry, but I was itchin’ like a flea bite on a dog’s behind to ask you if you’d do me the honor of joining me in cuttin’ the proverbial rug, as it were.”

“You, um, want to dance?”

“Affirmative.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, not from flattery, but from the anticipation of turning him down. There was no way you were going to dance with Eugene, not tonight. Not when all you wanted was to see Daryl come through that front door you’d been so closely watching. You simply weren’t in the mood.

Still, you were going to have a hard time rejecting him. Eugene might’ve been a little verbose, but he was a sweetheart.

“Oh, well, I—”

Whatever song was being played in your crowded living room became muffled, drowned out by your now faster heartbeat swelling in your ears. Your knees seemed to weaken a little, practically giving out underneath you, but you caught yourself, keeping your composure as much as you could. 

“Daryl…” you sighed dreamily, your eyes half-lidded and glued to the man’s broad, bulky frame as he stepped over the threshold. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, and he seemed to be a little lost as he looked around the room at a sea of heads bobbing like apples in a barrel of water, but if you could make him out right, you swore he looked beautiful. 

“(Y/N)?”

You blinked rapidly, turning slightly back towards Eugene, though your eyes remained on Daryl. You couldn’t help it—you needed to keep track of him, make sure you didn’t lose him in the crowd. “Yeah?”

Eugene followed your gaze, though he didn’t see your target until that very target laid eyes on you. 

Daryl was a hunter, after all. He knew how to find his prey. 

You lifted your hand eagerly to wave to him, and his step moved faster, more confident now that he found you. 

Eugene’s presence soon faded away from you, though he still stood beside you, petrified. Few things were as intimidating as Daryl Dixon on the prowl, and for the squeamish Eugene, he had always tried to steer clear of the famously hot headed archer. 

And if Daryl’s passing disapproving glances at Eugene were anything to go, he needed to get away from you before he unwittingly made an enemy.

“I—I’m gonna fetch myself a refill,” he said, shakily holding up his cup to demonstrate. You nodded at his empty words, completely meaningless to you now, as he quickly turned himself around and hurried off to the kitchen. 

By the time Daryl reached you, you were alone, smiling wide and holding out your arms to hug him. It caught him off guard for a moment, causing him to let out a brief grunt, but when you kissed his cheek, this time a little longer than you had done in the past, he melted in your arms. 

“You made it,” you said, squeezing both his shoulders. “I almost thought you weren’t going to show up.”

His smile faded a little—he hates to keep you waiting. “Sorry, I…” 

Got nervous and spent an hour tryin’ to figure out what to wear, he would’ve said if he felt like being particularly bold. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you said. “You’re here now. That’s what matters to me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

And that was true—he might not have liked parties that much, and Halloween more or less meant nothing to him, but seeing you in that costume, and being there knowing that his presence was important to you, that made all the difference. 

The party went off without a hitch, going into the wee hours of the morning, long after it had ended last year. The only alone time you would get with Daryl came in the form of him helping you up the stairs, guiding you to the bathroom, as you were a little too tipsy to get there yourself. Well, you insisted that you could, but Daryl wasn’t convinced.

“I’m fine!” you laughed, being dragged up the stairs by Daryl. 

“What if ya break your neck or somethin’?” he asked. “ Ain’t havin’ that.”

You smiled wide as he held the bathroom door open for you, then began pulling it closed. “I’ll be out here.”

“No, wait,” you said, holding the door open with your body weight. “Could, you, um… come in with me?”

He furrowed his brow, slightly amused at the sight of you pouting in your witch hat and getup. “Why?”

Oh, you thought. I hadn’t thought of that. 

In all honesty, you hadn’t thought it through at all. Perhaps your slightly inebriated mind just wanted to be absorbed in Daryl’s presence for as long as you could. After all, you were clinging to each other’s sides all night since he arrived, why not? And maybe, just maybe, you wanted a true, private moment with him. Maybe nature would take its course this time.

“I—I… What if I fall off the toilet?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “So ya don’t need my help up the stairs but ya need my help goin’ to the bathroom?”

You realized how stupid it sounded then, and quickly shook your head to try to will the situation away. “Never mind,” you said. “Sorry, that was weird.”

With your hand guiding the door closed, he held it open. His face was more serious now, and yet still a bit shy. “I’ll come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t want ya fallin’ off the toilet.”

You didn’t fall off the toilet.

He kept his back turned, shuffling his feet and fiddling with his fingers as he averted his eyes from you as you relieved yourself. When the sound stopped, he asked, “Are ya decent?”

“Mhm.” You stood shakily, turning to flush the toilet. Daryl turned, too, eyes widened to realize that your dress was covering you completely, but your panties were pooled around your ankles. “Uh, (Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

He pointed to your feet. “Your, uh…”

Following his pointed finger, you laughed loudly as a blush formed across your nose and cheeks. “Oh, God. Sorry.”

He’d be lying if he didn’t take the opportunity, short-lived as it was, to study your underwear, as he’d sometimes imagined what kind you wore. Tonight it was different than usual, intended to match your costume—black with a floral lace print. Simple, but enough to cause a dizziness in his head. 

As you bent down to pull them back up, he caught a glimpse of your cleavage, just barely spilling out of your corset dress. He internally begged you to straighten up, but you took your time, adjusting your boots, too. 

When you finally stood back up, you sighed and crossed over to the sink to begin washing your hands. Daryl looked on, keeping an eye on you, just in case you fell, or something (though he doubted that would happen). 

“Hey,” you said, soaking your hands under the water, “we haven’t had a moment alone yet. I mean, it’s nice. We can talk.”

He leaned against the bathroom door, chewing on his bottom lip. “Talk about what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know… Just talk. About anything.”

Maybe now you were going against your own philosophy. Maybe your desire for him was preventing Mother Nature from doing her job, but you couldn’t help it. He looked lovely tonight, with a particular glow about him. He dressed much in the same way he always did, but his hair fell in the most beautiful way, and his lips were somehow shiny in the reflection of the twinkly lights (little did you know he’d been constantly licking his lips that night out of nervous habit). 

Most of all, he made the effort to set his dislike of parties aside to be with you. Well, you hoped that, maybe, he wanted to be with you. After all, there wasn’t much else Daryl did that night except hang around you.

“Well, uh… Thanks for invitin’ me,” he finally said, after several moments of chewing his lip and not knowing how to speak without accidentally spilling every last intrusive thought he had about you. “I’ve been havin’ a good time.”

Just Daryl saying that he was enjoying the party was enough to nearly bring a tear to your eye. He was so sweet without even trying. Some men put on a facade, not Daryl—he was sweet through and through. 

“Me too,” you said, now wiping your hands on the towel. “I wasn’t really having a good time until you showed up, to be honest.”

“Really?”

“Mhm… Actually, I was sort of just waiting for you.”

He scoffed at the thought, though it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Waitin’? For me? Why would you wait for me, girl? I ain’t gonna make or break your party.”

Lifting yourself to sit atop the bathroom counter, you peeled off your hat, revealing the frizzy top of your head. You quickly reached up to fix it, but Daryl rather liked it slightly messy. He wondered just how messy it could get.

“Well, you just mean a lot to me, Daryl. That’s all.” It wasn’t all. It was a whole lot more than that. “Halloween doesn’t even matter that much to me these days. I think… maybe since last year, when you came over after the party, I was looking forward to tonight, just to see you again.”

“You see me almost everyday.”

“Yeah, but… That night felt different to me, you know? Kind of just wanted it to feel that way again. And it does. So I’m happy.”

Despite your words, you frowned and hung your head, hands folded in your lap. You weren’t sure where the sudden wave of sadness came from. Maybe it was your fear of rejection showing its ugly head again, but when Daryl stepped forward, taking your hand in his, you looked up at him, standing before you with that beautiful little smile on his face.

It wasn’t a big smile. It was close-mouthed and crooked, but it was beautiful to you. It meant the entire world to you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why d’ya look so sad? Thought you were happy.”

“I am happy, it’s just… I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

He shifted closer to you, holding your other hand now, too. His thumbs busied themselves with brushing the outsides of your hands, almost massaging them. The skin was soft, warm, and smooth. He was almost afraid of marring your beautiful flesh with his calloused fingers, but at least it would be some way of leaving his mark on you.

“Ain’t nothin’ you could ever think or say would be stupid to me,” he said. “You can tell me anythin’, just so long as I get to hear your voice.”

Well, how were you not going to tell him now?

Besides, it was hard to resist those eyes of his, deep set and somehow a subtle, intense blue. How could his eyes be so soft, and yet so penetrating? Everything about Daryl was an enigma to you, and yet you still felt you understood him so well, all his little quirks and idiosyncrasies, all his beautiful ways of speaking and feeling and being. Sometimes, you ventured to think you knew him better than anyone else, and maybe that was because he showed you a different side to him he rarely showed to anyone else, even to Rick or Carol. What he showed you was his heart, and though you couldn’t yet be sure if he would give you his heart, you hoped he’d at least consider it.

“You… like hearing my voice?” Of course, you were stuck on that line.

He swallowed hard. Shit, did I say that out loud? No avoiding it now.

“Yeah. I do. A lot.”

Funny. You liked hearing his voice too, so much so that you tried to memorize it as best you could, in case you needed to hear it just to get through the day. 

Your wide smile betrayed your flattered state, and he continued to speak, emboldened by your apparent appreciation. 

“Still think you’re a real witch or somethin’.” He took your pointy hat and firmly, yet delicately, placed it back on your head, to which you let out a giggle. He was sure to prop up the brim, ensuring the beauty of your face was on full display. 

The glimmer of your eyeshadow was intoxicating to him, and though he didn’t know the first thing about makeup, the way those colors blended together on your face was nothing short of magical. 

“Why?” you asked.

You hadn’t even noticed until you felt his thigh brush against yours, but his body was positioned right between your legs now, and the heat of him was radiating beneath your dress. You’d never felt him like this before, not between your legs. It caused you to bite your lip until you felt the skin just begin to break. 

“‘Cause ya put some kinda spell on me.”

He spoke so seriously that you couldn’t tell if he was joking, but he definitely wasn’t. “Oh…” You cleared your throat, fully intending to assume the role of the witch. “Yes, yes, I did. I performed a love spell at my altar with a lock of your hair.” You let go of one of his hands to curl a strand of brown, wavy hair around your finger. Your perfume wafted around his nose, allowing the sweet scent of patchouli and rose to linger there. He moved closer to smell more of it, until his crotch was fully pressed against yours, and there was no doubt about it—he felt lovely there. “I like to dance naked in the moonlight, too. Is that what you think of me, Daryl?”

His eyes trailed up and down your body, getting lost in the low-cut bodice of your dress. Noticing his infatuation, you pressed your chest to his. Being this close to him was enough to raise goosebumps all over your skin, even under your long sleeves. How could you feel so warm, and yet so cold?

“Nah,” he replied, though he had to admit, now that you mentioned it, he was imagining you wildly flailing your limbs as you danced under the cool white light of the moon, with your nude breasts beating together and your thighs spreading apart to jump over the fire around which you danced…

Perhaps he’d find you like that, after many long hours on his hunt. You’d hold your hand out to him, inviting him to rid himself of his filthy clothes and move his weary body with yours until you both fell clumsily, yet somehow intentionally, to the ground, writhing underneath each other until he found his way on top of you, or maybe you found your way on top of him, riding him into the night like a witch on her broomstick. 

Little would he know that you had called him there, using your sorcery to guide him exactly where you wanted him. And now, you had him exactly where you wanted him, for real.

“Don’t worry, I’m a good witch,” you said, tightening your legs around him. He wasn’t going anywhere now, not when he dared to look at you like that—like he was about to devour you. The veins protruding in his thick neck made him look as though he was about to turn into some kind of wild beast, driven by primal instincts. “I promise… But I could be a bad witch, too… If you want.”

His hands had somehow found your hips, gripping them tight as his resolve began to crumble. How was he going to resist you now? He couldn’t, he simply couldn’t. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

“That depends,” he said, his voice somehow soft and quiet, but gruff and demanding. “What does a bad witch do?” 

He tried not to think, to shut off his brain for a moment while he was between your legs. If he thought too much now, his shyness would take over, and he’d ruin this moment he’d dreamed of for so long.

“Lots of things,” you laughed. “Let me show you.” Your hands were practically tugging at his broad, firm shoulders now. The muscles underneath were so tense, so rigid and begging to be caressed, so you did, gently kneading them until they became just a little more loose. 

He let you pull him further until his forehead rested against yours, and he was already groaning under his breath, desperate to taste your mouth. 

You moved slowly, though, a little too slow for him at this moment, and he couldn’t keep himself from grabbing your hips more roughly now, until your arms had no choice but to flail around his neck and your lips crashed against his. 

Your whimper of surprised bliss was devoured by his mouth, just as your tongue felt his swirling around it, extending deep into your mouth until you swore there was more of his saliva in you than your own. 

In his insatiable lust, he gripped your thighs to spread them further, allowing more of him to get between your legs. Soon the skirt of your dress was completely hoisted up, allowing him to once again see your panties, and in the see-through spaces of the lacy pattern, he caught a peek of your hair, and your slit, and he couldn’t even stop his own hand from reaching there, cupping your mound so hard that you squirmed and yelped into his mouth. The pressure of his palm was so perfect on your clit, and not even the muffled sound of the loud music booming downstairs could distract you from that intense, shivering feeling.

“Oh!” you yelped, your lips now separated from Daryl as you threw back your head. “Daryl!” 

Your exposed neck was calling to him, those muscles flexing and veins protruding as you tried to keep your voice down. He could tell how much blood was rushing to your head, and the vampire in him compelled him to latch his lips to your supple neck. He didn’t dare bite you too hard, but his teeth nearly broke the skin. 

“Ah!” you cried out, your fingernails etching shapes into his leather-clad back. “Oh…”

Your moans began to shiver the tighter he held onto you, as his mouth left marks wherever it could, with the hope they would last long enough to prove who you belonged to.

You’d never known Daryl like this, so passionate. It was another side to him, and you quite liked it. “Daryl… I…”

He let out a deep, animalistic grunt as he pulled his lips away, only to crash them back down on yours. He tasted the wine on your tongue, though he was already drunk just off your taste alone. 

His hand rubbed up and down the outside of your panties until he could feel the pooling of your arousal underneath. It made him harder, just knowing that your body was preparing itself for him. 

His fingers clumsily tugged at the crotch of your panties, urgently trying to get to your entrance. “Wait,” you panted against his lips, holding his hand steady. You closed your eyes and leaned against his forehead. “Daryl…”

Breathless, he softly kissed your lips once more. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are ya scared?”

In truth, you were, just a little. This new side of him was thrilling, and you loved it, but there was no way you could continue in good conscience, not while there were guests still downstairs. 

You smiled and bit his lip, pulling it towards you until you let it go. “A little.” Your hands retreated to his strong, broad chest, rubbing up and down the smooth leather of his vest. “I’ve never seen you like that before. You turned into a beast.”

He scoffed, but his cheeks became deeply blushed. “Ya do things to me.”

As you let his hand return to your crotch, his fingers drew slow circles over the wetness. “You do things to me, too,” you said. “And I’m not really scared, Daryl, it’s just… my party. I’d feel more comfortable if we were completely alone.”

He nodded in agreement. He had to admit that this wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to make love to you for the first time. “What about when they all leave?” he asked. “I can… stay and help ya clean up, like last time.”

His hand moved a little faster, now concentrated on your clit, and you squirmed in his arms with a long, blissful sigh. “Can you wait that long?” you asked, though you were honestly asking yourself that same question. 

“I’d wait forever for you.”

With another kiss, you left the restroom first, fixing your askew witch hat and heading downstairs as if nothing happened. Daryl stayed in the bathroom, adjusting himself. He had half a mind to relieve himself completely, but he wanted to save whatever he had in him for you. 

It took great self-discipline not to shut down the music and begin ushering everyone out of your house, but you were sure to be a good hostess, as you always were. When the last few people left, you didn’t even hear Daryl’s footsteps come up behind you. He moved like a hunter. After all, he was one, and you were his prey.

He lifted the brim of your hat to throw it somewhere behind him. With his lips latched to your neck again, you smiled and leaned back into his touch. 

“You still gotta work some of your magic on me,” he mumbled against your shoulder. 

“I thought we were going to clean?” you giggled, feeling him pull you backwards towards the stairs. 

He grunted as he turned you around, hoisting you up by the back of your knees. You were slightly terrified he’d drop you, but Daryl’s arms were so strong. So very, very strong.

“Nah,” he said, carrying you up the steps. “We’re gonna make a mess.”

Indeed, no cleaning was done that night. 

~

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[icanseethefuture333]

whats the tea on if jyp really did stop chan from doing his live? then chan hinted he can actually do what he wants on bubble when it blew up on stay twitter? in quite a passive aggressive manner 👀

"Oh um... I mean cus I can't do Chan's room anymore so um- I know, I want to react to it but company says no, sorry, yeah."

Before I shuffle... I honestly believe this was going to happen after Chan vented in his last "Chan's Room" when he said a rookie group didn't bow to them when they walked past nor greeted them with respect and chose not to acknowledge them. Chan was 100% right for being upset. Everyone knows in Korea that honorifics is a big deal there, so to disrespect your seniors at work / elders in general, it's really bad on whoever that group was. However, the way he handled it was really irresponsible. To state publicly without saying who the group even was and leaving it to his fans to spectaculate, he didn't take in consideration on how his fans were gonna react afterwards. He should know that Kpop fans in general are very defensive and protective over their idols, they will always go to the extreme, so him being upset at their behavior (for example, Stays attacking IVE and assuming they were the group that didn't show Stray kids respect by bowing, when there was no fucking proof it was them). It's like... What do you expect? Then now, he said the company won't allow him to do "Chan's Room" anymore (probably because he said too much and caused so much uproar). Then fans showed up at the JYP building to protest for Chan to be allowed again to do "Chan's Room" again and Chan complained on Bubble that they're not helping the situation. So really the point of all of this of what I'm trying to say is, that Chan just needs to acknowledge that this is his fault in a way. He should be able to speak his truth, but he is not in a position or industry or in a company, where that is even allowed. Chan knows how strict they are over there. If he was like a Korean hip hop artist or from an independent label, it wouldn't matter then what he says. Or let's say he was in a group like KARD for example, BM is known for saying whatever the hell he wants, but he can do that because he is not under a prestigious company, he's popular but everyone knows KARD is considered a nugu group. So either Bang Chan sucks it up and accept this is the consequences of his own actions and if he continues to behave this way, it's gonna keep causing controversy or negative attention on him.

Channeled song: Under Pressure by Queen ft. David Bowie

"Pressure coming down on me"

First things first... To confirm on what the actual truth is here... It's a yes that JYP is not allowing Chan to do "Chan's Room" anymore. They are not happy with him, he is also not happy with them. Bang Chan lost the fight, he lost the battle on being able to keep doing "Chan's Room", which caused a big argument. So there's a lot of conflict going on. Now... To figure out why he's been so adamant about speaking his mind is because he wants change. Bang Chan just really wants change it seems. I feel like he doesn't like how much he's being controlled in some aspects. Chan wanted more freedom and have the ability to be closer to his fans. I honestly believe that "Chan's Room" was therapeutic in a way for him. It gave him the space to express himself and put himself more in the spotlight with The Star card. He felt the interactions with his fans were more pure and genuine. I also think that Bang Chan felt like he had more people in his circle when he did the lives? It made him feel like he had more "friends" it seems. He could have been feeling very lonely, so by doing "Chan's Room" it gave him comfort. Dare I say he's been kind of acting "delulu"? Like he's deluding himself into think he has this connection and friendship with his fans. When it is not like that and it's more of a parasocial relationship. Then when stays behave and react to his words, it's like he remembers all of a sudden he's a leader of a group, not their friend. So it's like he acts like a parental figure for them and scolds them when they do something bad, but also it's that Chan kind of snaps out of it and realizes that his fans can't be his friends that he's wanting so badly. So when they cross the boundaries, he gets mad. When really, he's just mad at the situation behind scenes, and he's also really mad at himself. Bang Chan is upset at the lack of control he feels, he has a lot of fucking leg room in comparison to other idols, we all know that, let's be honest, but - outside of his job, Chan just feels he can't voice his mind, his feelings, and how he wants friends, he wants a family, he wants a partner, etc. So I feel like he enjoys being a idol, of course, but like most idols he is upset at the lack of ability to be honest and form stable relationships. For how he feels about "Chan's Room" being canceled, Chris is very sad about it with the Three of Water reversed. He feels like he lost the one thing where he has an outlet. Where he was able to celebrate and find joy or comfort. I asked if "Chan's Room" could ever come back, I got The Empress so it's a yes. Chris could tell someone in his company who is very nurturing towards him and he goes to them for advice or love. So this person feels like a "2nd mom" to him and if he tells them how much this means to him, then they will be able advocate for him to get him to do the lives again. But that is a smaller aspect of what this card means. I feel there is something much bigger here? Everything has been such a chain reaction and Bang Chan has been wanting change, so he's getting it now. He will find something else that will be more emotionally fulfilling and make him happy. It will be something that's creative and allow him to pursue a new passion. I am unsure what exactly that thing is ... but it will be good for him :)! The outcome for Chan overall is the Mother of Air. Bang Chan is gonna receive more power and clarity from this situation. I believe the person I mentioned earlier could help him with this. They could be a senior idol or someone he worked with at JYP. I'm being reminded of Sunmi honestly or someone who is connected to Sunmi, perhaps a former member of Wonder Girls as well? I know that Yeeun and Yubin were also air signs since Sunmi is a Taurus (Yeeun also known now as Ha:tfelt is a Gemini and Yubin is a Libra). This is interesting, I would like to see how this artistic endeavor pans out.

For clarification cards, I got Ace of Earth and Ace of Air. So Chan is aware that this is the consequences of his own actions lol. He just has to get over his ego first. He will find stability and figure out how to be more grounded with his emotions in the future. There will be a business opportunity presented to him that he's gonna take. Perhaps he will sign a new legal contract with this earth and air combination (I'm being reminded of the energy of the members from Wonder Girls again. Since two members were earth signs and the other two were air signs). If Chan has more patience, he can overcome this burden he's been feeling and will be able to attract more prosperity once he heals and connects to his higher self. There could also be something that will happen to him, that will be similar to what happened to Wonder Girls. Or it could just mean they will be a mentor for him or be considered an inspiration.

Channeled song: Why So Lonely? by Wonder Girls

"Baby why I'm so lonely

I'm so desperate, but you're not

Baby no, my heart

I don't know when you will leave me (Tell me why)

What are they? Your feelings

What are they? I love you so much

But I hate this suffocating feeling"

[stitchyblogs]

Stitchy, How Do I Get Back into The Muppets?

Muppet memes are everywhere. They trend every time Brett Goldstein gets his hands on a microphone, or a British politician puts their foot in their mouth. Let the Muppets host the Oscars! Miss Piggy dumps Pete Davidson! Knives Out III! But, reader... it’s been a long time since you last hopped over to sip Lipton’s on Kermit’s lily pad, hasn’t it? And you kind of miss it.

I’m imagining you, dear reader. Not in a weird way or anything... I’m just being transparent about who I intend my audience to be, because I have Twitter poisoning. You know how it is, you rascal, you. I know, because I’m imagining you into existence! Let’s just go with it! Yeah, so- I bet you’re thirty something, low forties. You say ‘No worries!’ a lot, but you sure do have worries. How can you not? You’re way too online, but you hope to the Great Gazoo you’re pulling it off, looking merely casually plugged in, in public. You maybe don’t have kids, who've forced you to plumb the depths of Disney +, but you do have it, because you’re not immune to Baby Yoda and the bionic biceps of a one Bucky Barnes. Aside from that fatuous affair, you’re also in a ever evolving polycule with at least three streaming services, but they still aren’t *quite* delivering what you need from the relationship. You kind of miss being restricted to whatever 6 VHS tapes were in the TV hutch of your childhood home. If you’re too young for VHS, you at least remember having to mail actual disks back and forth with Netflix. You remember that once, practical effects were the only effects. You have taste! And curiosity! And heart! You tear up when you think about Mr. Rogers for too long, which is very sexy of you. Most importantly, dear reader, you appreciate a bit of cornball. You like a lil goof. A cheeky lil pun. A gag so cheap, the shopkeeper is looking the other way as you pocket it, secretly stoked to get it off the damn shelf already... Nobody’s looking, ya know. It’s okay to admit it! You like hokey jokes. In fact, you're spiritually wearing boxers with hearts on them right now, just in case. Not that I’m imagining you in your spiritual underwear.

Did I make it weird?

Shh, shh, it’s fine. I’m Stitchy, by the way! I am alllllll of these things too- it’s fine! Well, I’m not super into Bucky, if we’re being honest- which we are! Because we’re friends now! And you know, friends can ask each other embarrassing questions. Your question is the headline of this, so I won’t beat around the bush anymore. I’m gonna do you a solid. I’m gonna tell you.... How to get back into the Muppets.

Hey, wait! You sneak! You! That guy peeking over the shoulder of the reader I was just talking to. You’ve never seen any Muppets on purpose at all, and you’re hoping I can set you up, too? Ha! I knew it… Yeah, that’s okay. You can follow this list. I won’t rat you out, as long as you don’t tell Rizzo I said ‘rat’ in that context.

Muppet Immersion PART 1:  The New Shit.

You’ve already seen the stuff that came down the pipeline in the 90’s. You Mnah Mnah’ed your butt off in your tender youth, and nowadays you still get a little confused when there’s only one Marley in non-Muppet Christmas Carols. You vaguely know that the good people at Henson Co. made post-Y2K projects, but you haven’t checked them out, because you had important, more grown up things to worry about, like curating your MySpace top eight. Then time got away from you. That’s okay, bud- because I’ve been on my muppetfrickin’ grind.

(One note: not all Muppet Materials are made with our age group in mind, and that’s okay! I’m sure Muppet Babies 2.0 has its moments, but we’re only looking at the slightly more mature pieces.)

1. The Muppets, 2011 (watch on Disney +)

They struck gold when tapping lifelong muppet freak Jason Segel to write and star in the Muppet’s comeback to the silver screen. With the expert musical-comedy midwifery of Flight of the Conchord’s James Bobin (director), and Bret McKenzie (music), a beautiful baby Muppet was born! It’s a classic tale of “We’ve gotta get the band back together and put on the best show this town has ever seen Or Else!”. The Or Else, if you’re wondering, is oil tycoon Chris Cooper’s plan to obliterate the Muppet Theater. Best work he’s ever done, I tell ya. Same goes for Amy Adams, who absolutely nails her role as the doting but levelheaded Mary, who’s fiancé is troublingly codependent with his Muppet brother, Walter. Oh, Walter. A wide eyed, whistling optimist, who deserves love and puppies and the whole entire world. In the words of Phil Spector (Yikes) to know know know him is to love love love him. A great entry point for returning, or newly budding Muppet enthusiasts. Highlights include the knock off ‘Moopets’, hostage Jack Black, and Muppet turned man Jim Parsons.

1.5 The sequel, Muppets Most Wanted, 2014 (also available on Disney +) doesn’t work for me. Seeing as it’s my guide to Muppet Immersion, I say you can skip it if you’re not feeling like another feature film, just now! My beef may not be your beef, though. (Too much Ricky Gervais, too much faux-Kermit, and not enough Walter... ((My soul will never be at rest until I understand why TPTB lost faith in Walter as the new audience surrogate. I can only hope Serial has plans to investigate.))) Maybe Muppets Most Wanted will work for you! Definitely DO NOT MISS the absolute feast of bops, again penned by Bret McKenzie:

1.5 a. “I’ll Give it To You” 

1.5 b. The Interrogation Song, a thrilling double act by Ty Burrell and Sam the Eagle 

1.5 c. We’re Doing a Sequel!  

1.5 d. Something So Right featuring none other than powerhouse Celine Dion

1.5 e. Something So Right Demo Reel, because you need to have Bret’s Miss Piggy in your ears, too. 

Whenever Piggy wears a hat with one lil’ ear out!? That’s the good stuff.

2. It’s time to play the music, it’s time to light the lights, it’s time to fire up the Baby Yoda machine to watch The Muppets, 2015. Confusing, yeah... It’s the same-named, but sadly short lived series, spun out from the success of the new films. The docu-sitcom format is a natural fit for the fourth-wall breaking Muppets. For the first time since 1984’s Muppets Take Manhattan, Kermit is solidly the leading man. We find him back in the studio, producing Up Late With Miss Piggy, amidst a flurry of Muppet interpersonal problems. As a quintessential Will They, Won’t They couple of the last half a century- it’s kind of incredible that the Muppet media that best portrays why Kermit and Piggy love each other is the one where they are very emphatically Did, But Don’t Anymore. It’s a refreshingly grown-up main story line! Aside from that- we all know C is for Cookie, but B is for B-Plots and running gags that absolutely slap. Fozzie’s beleaguered love life, Uncle Deadly’s wrangling of Piggy’s vast wardrobe, Scooter’s ongoing beef with his mother’s boyfriend, the meddling network president June Diane Raphael... I truly can’t get enough! Because they canceled it! Hmmph! And a pink satin heeled kick, and a hiiiii-ya!!

Anyway, the cameos and needle drops are expertly deployed, as fitting and offbeat as ever. I’m especially fond of Christina Applegate, Ed Helms, and Josh Groban’s appearances.

My absolute favorite episode, if you watch only one, is “Swine Song”. The network saddles Up Late With Miss Piggy with a brand manager who’s dead set on giving the show a face lift. Key and Peele, now reduced to running an Etsy shop after their own fiasco with the brand manager, feature.

I don’t know what happened, that we didn’t get more of The Muppets. Perhaps the 30 Rock-ification of the Muppets might have been more at home on a different network, with a different pool of veteran talents and sensibilities? Were we as a society just not ready in 2015 for a story about workplace friends, grounded by such sincerity? Eh, maybe. It’s no surprise Ted Lasso’s Bret Goldstein is one of the most vocal proponents for a Muppet comeback, with that in mind. Same niche!

If there is any justice in this universe… [clenches fist]

3. The Muppets Haunted Mansion, 2021, on Disney + is a welcome return to form after the platform’s first “exclusive” but paltry offering of Muppets Now (Don’t even... Don’t even bother to look…). Gonzo and Pepe challenge themselves to face their fears and spend the night in the spookiest place on earth, inspired by the beloved Disneyland ride. It’s great. If you’ve taken my advice this far and you’re still in, just. Just go for it. It’s 52 minutes. What else you got goin’ on? You’re elbow deep in some internet weirdo’s ramblings about a fifty year old troupe of talking socks.

Can’t get enough? Need to soak in hours more of puppety perfection?

4. The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, 2019, Netflix. Not technically the Muppets TM, but absolutely a must see for a burgeoning Henson buff. Did you ever see the original 1982 film? Do! It’s rentable. The Dark Crystal is some high fantasy, live action, no humans, all puppet madness. It’s disturbing and strange and beautiful. An age old tale of corruption and ideals, told by some of the cutest, oddest little creatures you’ll ever see. (Deet and Hup!!!) And I mean. C’mon. The vocal talent! They didn’t even fit Bill Hader on the wiki cheat sheet, that’s how stacked it is!

5. Fraggle Rock: Back to the Rock, 2022, Apple TV. This one’s definitely made for the kids, but it’s exactly as lovingly rebooted as you hoped.

We’re getting down to some slim, definitely non mandatory pickings, now. Uhhhh…

6. Miss Piggy made an appearance on Drag Race!

7. The creature workshop whipped up some puppets for Coldplay’s Biutyful music video!

8. And here’s a half hour supercut of a bunch of ads featuring the Muppets, in the last fifteen years or so. It’s not entertainment, per se, but at the very least, you’ll see the Kermit Sipping Tea origin.

PART 2: Outside Readings

The road to your Masters in Muppetfrickery has been paved by many scholars. Here are a few peers whose work you might like to check out, now that you’re no longer a tadpole, but a fully grown frog, with hard cover books and podcast subscriptions, and junk!

Jim Henson: The Biography, by Brian Jay Jones

This book is exactly the comprehensive, compassionate deep dive you hope it is. Watch out, though! It did make me cry in an airport.

I Am Big Bird: The Caroll Spinney Story, 2015.

A feel good documentary about the man under the bird. Available on Prime, Peacock, and others.

Muppet Guys Talking, 2017

Five of the original Muppet performers discuss their iconic characters. Muppetguystalking.com

Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street, 2021.

You guessed it! A doc about Sesame Street, on HBO.

Defunctland has also done some stellar coverage of the Muppets, Fraggle Rock, and more!  

Follow ToughPigs.com for a survey of what's up and coming in the various Henson adjacent worlds, and top tier curation of Muppet history. They have a podcast, too!

If you are lucky enough to live in NYC or DC, you can even see some Muppets in person!

Museum of Moving Image 

The Smithsonian

PART 3: The Oldies!

Whatever Muppet movies you had access to as a kid- there’s a good chance there’s one you missed! Good news is there’s still time to play catch up- whew!

Stitchy’s TOP TEN of the pre 2000 canon:

1. THE MUPPET MOVIE 1979 (Disney +)

2. MUPPET TREASURE ISLAND 1996 (Disney +)

3. THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL 1992 (Disney +)

4. THE DARK CRYSTAL 1982 (Rent Only?)

5. LABYRINTH 1986 (Netflix)

6. THE GREAT MUPPET CAPER 1981 (Disney +)

7. MUPPETS FROM SPACE 1999 (Rent Only?)

8. THE MUPPETS TAKE MANHATTAN 1984 (Prime)

9. THE MUPPET SHOW 1976-1981*** (Disney +)

10. EMMET OTTER’S JUGBAND CHRISTMAS 1977 (Prime, Peacock)

If you’ve missed any of the top 5, BOY HOWDY are you in for a treat. Especially if you’ve never seen the original Muppet movie. I am on my hands and Always Conveniently Off Screen Knees, begging you to give it a shot. If it’s been decades- give it a watch with fresh eyes. It’s a sweet, simple, silly story about a frog who dreams of making people happy. It’s about art, and integrity, and joy, and friendship, and it’s just about the only place you’re gonna get Hare Krishna jokes, nowadays.

Of course, this list is just a start. There were quite a few obscure TV specials and series besides, but as they are very hard to track down on streaming, I won’t insist on their viewing. I do highly recommend the series Jim Henson’s The Storyteller, 1987-1989, however. These episodes are all self contained if you can dig one up on Google, and they are exquisite pieces of art. John Hurt stars as the gruff old Storyteller, weaving fantastical yet tactile folk tales that have stuck with me for decades.

***Sheesh! The Muppet Show is like, 44 hours of television. I can do better than just point you at it in its totality! That brings us to:

PART 4: Going Right to the Source.

It’s the OG. THE Muppet Show.

By all means, crack open that laptop and follow your nose! There are legends aplenty to pick from, and just about every one of the 120 episodes has a classic moment, somewhere in there. As you scroll through the many guests, I’m sure you’ll be drawn to such greats as Rita Moreno (This appearance is The E in her EGOT!), John Cleese, Julie Andrews, Bernadette Peters, Steve Martin, Elton John, Madeline Khan, Gilda Radner, the cast of Star Wars, and Carol Burnette. They all put on fantastic shows that are essential viewing, but I must also put in a good word for some personal favorites.

Paul Williams, one of the great American songwriters, author of The Rainbow Connection and many other classics 

Vincent Price, your favorite creepy uncle, and mine. (That’s right! We’re not just friends, we’re also cousins!)

Avery Schreiber, who never ever holds back, and whose episode features the fantastic Electric Mayhem rendition of “Tenderly”. 

Sandy Duncan, who’s “Nice Girl Like Me” is an unforgettable, leggy revamp of the Manilow classic.

Mummenschanz, who are impossible to describe, but who would have ruled Tik Tok.

Leo Sayer, serving up three of my favorite 70’s tunes.

Pearl Bailey, bringing down the house with a pastiche sure to delight any musical theater nerd.

Harry Belafonte. “Turn the World Around” never fails to bring a tear to my googly eye.

Linda Ronstadt, lacerating the ONLY live vocals in the history of the show, and also crushing so so hard on Kermie. Relatable af

PART 4: Looking Forward

 (video) 

And you may ask yourself, "What Muppet Am I?" And you may ask yourself, "Why are there so many songs about Rainbows?"

What should come next for the Muppets? I say, if Disney is gonna own everything and everypiggy, go whole hog! Make Kermit the Avenger’s new therapist. Maybe he’s outside their insurance network (and dimension) but they have great rapport! Give Piggy a real late night slot, and get Grogu on to host a remote segment! Keep making the kids their kid shows, but embrace the grown up Gen X and Millennial audience with their own fare. Get back to the Muppets Sex and Violence roots, I double dog dare ya! Make a Muppet dating sim! Reboot Statler and Waldorf: From the Balcony on Youtube! Hook up Lil Nas X with the Electric Mayhem! Stop dicking me around and get the Muppets to host the Oscars, for real! Bring back my best boy Walter, and take advantage of the Muppets’ unparalleled skill for literary adaptation. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Muppet is a story that demands to be told! 

Well, we do know one new series on the way in 2023- The Muppets Mayhem. A junior record exec must wrangle the unwrangle-able Electric Mayhem through the modern music industry as they record an album. I don’t know about you, but I’m crossing my furry little fingers.

[inksandpensblog]

Please take as much time and breaks as you need! It's ok if you don't participate as much when participation is made to bring enjoyment! Please focus on what you want or need to do!

I hope things get better :]!!

Thank you.

To be honest, I think I’ve been in this state for a few months at least; the only thing that’s changed recently is the one big catastrophe that has forced me to reprioritize everything I do.

Also I’m still learning to be okay with the fact that I just don’t have the time or energy to deeply invest attention in my interests the way that I used to.

I want to read comics and fics and analysis, and respond to them, and write my own, and catch up on the series (I’m legitimately behind for the first time I can ever think of), and catch up with the friends of mine who’ve created art of all types for this fandom, but…so often now, it seems that even when I do have the time, I can’t drum up the energy it would take to really responsively involve myself in the stories, either as a creator or as an audience.

(That is something I’m hoping better time management can fix, so I can reserve energy for a venture that I deliberately set aside time for instead of leaving it to the chance of “when I have time” and then not having the energy to spare once “time” actually opens up.)

And they are all things that I do want to do, I love this series and the people I’ve met through it. I’ve made friends that I want to keep for life, here, and there are so many people with intriguing ideas and fascinating things to say. But…

…the thing I enjoy has been overwhelming to me for quite some time now, and I’m only now admitting that to myself because losing my car and my proofreading job has forced me to shift my attention away from it.

I look at this series and its fandom that I love and just see a mountain of stories and ideas and observations and art that I know I’m gonna have All The Thoughts about, which I’m gonna feel compelled to share, either in my own way or in response to someone else’s, because otherwise I won’t be able to think about anything else.

A mountain which I feel I need to catch up on, in order to keep up with everyone else.

And right now…I just can’t afford to do that.

I need to relearn that it’s okay to miss things. That not being first in line or even on-time for everything doesn’t mean I love this series any less, or make me any less of a member within the communities that surround it.

I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon. I still have projects that I intend to finish, no matter how long it takes to actually develop them to a point where they’re shareable outside my group of brainstorming buddies. I still have friends that I’ll maintain regular contact with, even if we don’t talk about AvA as much for the time being.

But I haven’t been able to absorb anything new for a while now, and I think that means it’s time for me to take a step back for a bit. I shouldn’t feel dread every time a new video airs or a new comic or fic chapter is posted because I can’t handle the thought that there’s more work I need to do to keep up with it all. It shouldn’t be work.

Again, I’m not leaving. I’ll still be around, and I’m open to interacting with anyone who has questions for me or wants my thoughts on something regarding the series or my fanworks. I just won’t be the one prompting those interactions, for now; because for the foreseeable future, I won’t be investing my attention in this series or its fandom. I can’t be the one to start those conversations anymore, and I can’t respond to things that aren’t put directly in front of me with the intent that I, specifically, should see them. I don’t have the time or the energy, and having the will is just making it harder.

Sorry for the wall of text, ehe. Thank you for understanding.

[minecraftbookshelf]

What’s the situation with hostile mobs in the marriage of the state AU? I assume the answer is different for night mobs and Illagers/witches, based on what you’ve mentioned before?

So, if nighttime mobs do exist, do they come from somewhere? Or do they just form out of death smoke like they do in the game? Slime is an important codland export, so are slimes different?

And Illagers are probably just another race right? Or is it more of a culture thing? Are villagers also a race distinct from humans? How do the codfolk/mythland interact with the swamp witches, who you mentioned before do exist?

Also this isn’t really related to the main question but I don’t want to make a separate ask; are gems antlers from elven or deer-hybrid ancestry? (Are elves just deer-hybrid fae?)

Wow that’s a lot of questions, your Worldbuilding is really good btw. (And your writing too)

It's low-key kind of scary how you you're batting...three for three? i think? on asking exactly the thing I really want to talk about XD

You would be correct, most of the night mobs are basically wildlife, if incredibly hostile wildlife. Creepers and spiders and such. (Though spiders are sometimes less hostile and more just, doin their own thing and mindin their own business.)

Skeletons and zombies are also not sentient (anymore) and are basically considered large, dangerous pests. Like if cockroaches were human sized and out to ruin your day, specifically. (I'm not sure of their exact origins yet, because I haven't quite decided how I'm adapting my base mcyt mythology for this au)

Spiders are just like real world small spiders as far as "where they come from". Creepers and Slimes are actually similar in origin, n that they are sort of a magical manifestation of an environment. They both kind of...grow? Out of the land. Slimes are a bit pickier about where they grow from.

Slimes can also be farmed (As in livestock, not in the minecraft sense) which they are in the Swamp, where they also grow at a higher rate. They can be fed algae to encourage them to grow, and then split to make smaller slimes, which can be grown in turn.

Creepers just...separate themselves from the land and wander around after dark. Unless they encounter something that causes them to explode. They're generally considered to have about equivalent intelligence of dogs, as far as anyone can tell, and don't seem to be sentient.

Illagers/Villagers are just human/human+. Villagers are usually interpreted as citizens of relevant empires (see, smajor's elves and ldshadowlady's...pastel fish people) while Illagers are a specific culture, mostly based out of the mountains. (This is mostly because I just associate them with mountains because that's where I somehow encounter most of the Pillager Towers I find while playing minecraft.) They are primarily nomadic but do have bases (said towers) and most of them consider the Crystal Cliffs to be their homeland, as much as they have one.

Witches are also humans/hybrids and its a set of abilities and skills and not a species. the Swamp Witches are a specific group who live deep in The Swamp and mainly are fairly isolated, through they do provide council and aid to the other Swamp Dwellers, particularly during the Occupied years, which was when they separated from the majority of the population and went into hiding, when they were targeted by the invaders. The other Swamp Dwellers tend to regard them with cautious respect.

There are also wandering witches, who tend to travel around and either help or harm (based off personal inclination) as they go. Pix is on decently good terms with about half of them, with the other half it is on sight. (Mostly on the part of the witches)

Most Witches do not exist on good terms with Mythland, even a few hundred years down the line. Tensions remain.

-

As for Gem's antlers...

:)

So elves are not deer hybrids (or owl hybrids) despite sharing a few physical traits. (and the fae of the Overgrown are not hybrids either, despite frequent resemblances to butterflies and/or cats)

The primary differences are instincts. Fae and fae adjacent people tend to have some physical traits of different animal species, but they aren't actually from the species if that makes any sense. They don't have the animalistic instincts and tendencies any more than they have the human ones, despite resemblances both ways.

Hybrids are actually human+, as I referred to them earlier in this post. All hybrid species started out as humans. They're ultimately the result of the environmental magic of the world (and sometimes meddling from gods and spirits and such). They will have some combination of physical traits and instincts from their additive animal species, to go along with their human ones. They will also have human lifespans and developmental cycles, with a few minor variations here and there.

(But Rain, you say, you made a whole post about Seafolk and their life cycles and development and how its different from humans? Yes because the Seafolk aren't entirely hybrids either. The Deep Oceans have their own variations of fae folk and there was much more intermarriage and cultural crossover there than on Land. But that's another post altogether.)

As for Gem in specific...All I'll say for now is that

A) There is some extant xenophobia against fae races in a lot of majority human kingdoms and half-elven and elvish-descendant individuals often struggle.

B) Gem insisted stoutly her entire childhood that her antlers are because she's a deer hybrid.

C) Deer hybrids have tails.

D) Gem does not have a tail.

[simlicious]

I am not posting much atm, here is why

heya, I'm pretty quiet on the posting front at the moment. This has several reasons. Since this might come across as a bit whiny, feel free to skip this personal ramble.

The good stuff first: I made a pact with my best friend and now we take a long walk together every week to increase our fitness levels. It encourages me to leave the house and get some fresh air and be in nature and it feels very good! We actually did a lot more together in the last months than just the walk, so I am quite busy and also often exhausted from the activity. I have also gotten back into Anno 1800 now that the game has reached its final state, and I am fixing some old mods that are not available anymore but I cannot live without, and I am also working on some of my own mods. The reason why I am taking a break from making patterns has mainly to do with the negative feelings I developed in the last months. I have been putting off writing this post for weeks, but my feelings have not gone away and I want to address this particular issue. Tbh, I often get aggravated when viewing my dash these days. I'm not the most emotionally stable person and my self-worth comes also from external sources, like feedback for my patterns, which is not ideal, but it is what it is right now. Lately, I feel that as a creator of recolorable patterns, I am being pushed deep into a corner. I've always considered myself a niche creator, catering to patterns kinda does that! But I feel like I am becoming obsolete, now that a lot of creators only make Sims 4 conversions and are usually not fully recolorable. I also fear that more and more creators will forget/will never learn how to make clothes and objects recolorable if all they do is add non-recolorable Sims 4 presets. I consider the Create-A-Style tool to be the most important feature of TS3 (together with open worlds). It is such a unique feature, and it breaks my heart to see that not being valued as such. I feel like we should celebrate that, and I try to with my patterns, but it's just so hard to keep it up when most creators do not seem to particularly care anymore. I wish more creators would make the good old Frankenmeshes 😥 I would love to see more ts3 and ts4 frankenmesh mashups. Creators would need to learn how to turn Sims 4 textures into greyscale ones and step up their uv-mapping game a bit, and then it could be a thing... There could even be an open library of recolorable sims 4 textures and remapped meshes that all creators could contribute to. That way, creators could use them and would not need to remake every texture from scratch by themselves. Over time, that would greatly decrease the effort that would need to be put in to make new creations this way... I know that most of you follow me because you really value my patterns and use them in your games, and I know that people who play mainly with vanilla content won't have that problem at all, as 99% the EA stuff can be recolored. But it's just that I see those non-recolorable conversions everywhere on my dash, and it is so disheartening. I guess as a creator, I want to feel welcome in the TS3 creator community, and lately, I do not feel particularly seen or valued as a member of that group. Maybe my Tumblr bubble has shoved me somewhat outside of the group that I would feel more valued in? Maybe I need to adjust my dash. But I do not want to unfollow everyone who posts these conversions. They are nice in their own right, it's just that I can't handle them very well right now. How do you deal with stuff that you do not want to see? do you unfollow people, do you block tags? I've been mostly avoiding my dash, but that does not seem like a good solution. If you post gameplay pics with my patterns or are a creator that makes their stuff CAS-Tool compatible, feel free to tell me below so I can follow you. Just seeing more people use my patterns would probably lift my spirits!

[faroreskiss]

The Power of Understanding / Part 8 (v2)

Rewritten/revised v2 posted on: 2023/09/10

Read on Ao3

Cheat Sheet Chapters: Part 7, Part 9

What is this?: Random snippets from random times of adventure of Translator!Reader and Linked Universe AU. Chapters are not presented in a linear way. If you are curious about an event, ask/request/comment! Summary: You have been with the Chain for a while now, as their "scholar" and translator. You know everything about them, because you are from our world. But do they know the truth about how you can understand everyone? Warnings: You will be uncomfortable. You will see things that look like gibberish. That's "Modern Hylian"! Based on the grammar book here. If you are interested in what they said... Well, stay tuned ;) (or ask! guess in the comments! go wild!) Some cussing. Angry Sky! Drunk Links!

____

It was a couple of weeks after Twilight recovered, after everybody learnt that he is the wolfie. And after Wild (that’s how you referred to him now, in your mind at least) found out that Four could… well, split into four. And it was also after the rest of the group found out about Wolfie's relation to the Old Man. 

You? You weren't surprised at all when you saw that through the window of the room where Twilight was trying to win the internal fight over his life. You were pretty sure Four guessed you knew it too.

It was also right around when Vet finally stopped calling you the "trivia bitch" in a hostile mode, and switched it into a more "friendly mode". Probably the experience of almost losing a spirit brother kinda took his softie side out. Or maybe he wasn't that mad anymore because you also made him tell Sky about the bunny.

More like having a united front with Twi, and reminding him about the Master Sword situation, providing the group with more "trivia".

In your defense, you HAD to do it. He should have known better than to touch magical items randomly.

_____

You were staying at another inn tonight, which made you SO glad, you were going to be able to sleep on a bed tonight, you were between eras again. 

Nothing against the bedrolls, but you just never got used to sleeping outside like that, adventuring and such. At first it wasn't that bad, since you could just snuggle in with Wild, but then you got your own at some point. And noticed that it wasn't actually that comfortable.

Plus, it was quite creepy sleeping outside that. And no, being surrounded by nine very capable heroes did NOT help.

_____

You were between eras, most likely somewhere before the Great Flood. How did you know? Well, the legends of the Hero of Time were known to the people, and there were stories about the reconstruction of Hyrule after "a big evil has been cleansed". Wind was quite disappointed since they were almost (read: probably quite a few hundred years before) in his era.

The concept of time really warps when you travel like that, you thought to yourself.

So in this era, there was no hero, there hasn't been a need for one, yet. The royal family was there, most likely Old Man's Zelda's descendants, but there were no crises or such mentioned, at least not in recent times. You were thinking about suggesting going to the Lost Woods, Kokiri should still exist, right? But what would the Old Man think? 

For now, you were in an inn in Castle Town. Lucky for you all, Captain was quite the rupee holder, and he didn't mind. Otherwise, you were pretty sure you would avoid inns in the middle of the city. The guards weren't batting an eye to ten travelers with very sharp looking weapons either, which was usually not a good sign, but for now, you were able to get in and settle in there for a while.

Of course there was a reason why the Cap took you here. He wanted all of you to be able to have a drink in peace, and sleep in nicer beds. It's been weeks since you were in any familiar Hyrule (or Skyloft, for that matter, you haven’t been there yet). He cared about his troops and understood morale. Hah! Who would have thought?

"Hah! Praise Hylia!" Sky held his cup high, 

"Thanks for this, Captain" and you had a little chink chink moment. Vet and the Old Man scoffed but joined regardless.

"Sometimes her mysterious ways aren't so bad, eh?" Wild chuckled. 

"Not complaining over here about the current moment, but would prefer a bit less on the mystery side." Legend followed.

Between all the random chitter chatter, as you brought the tasty Hylian ale to your lips and a few more, you had a shower thought moment. Huh… 

"Guys, guys, guys!" you exclaimed. 

They turned their heads at you.

"You guys do realize that it's possible that Hylia doesn't actually exist, right?"

They looked at you like you were a complete lunatic. Well, you got used to it. 

"And the fish live in the skies," Legend added, rolling his eyes and laughter broke over the table.

"Darling, how many of those have you had?" Twilight pointed at the cups. His face was also flushed from alcohol a bit. Wild noticed what he called you, but didn't linger on it.

"Is it supposed to be some type of joke getting lost in translation?" Time questioned you, but he also had a grin on his face. 

"No, I'm serious!"

Sky didn't look really happy about your statement, as he was the first one to realize, you actually were serious. 

"(Y/N), what do you mean she doesn't exist? She even exists in our idioms, expressions…"  

"I mean it's a shower thought," 

Right, they don't know about showers. You sighed. 

"I mean it is more of a habit really, I usually say Jesus when I speak one of my world's languages, and in others there are no divinity/divine names, at least none that I use."

Sky looked as if you just committed blasphemy, Legend snickered, "Funny, I wish that were true sometimes but even I know she exists, isn't all this stuff her doing? Including our current 'adventure'?" You were glad you taught them about the air quotes. 

"Look, don't get me wrong, some divinity is definitely involved but I don't think it's Hylia herself, it is impossible, in a way. You know Link," you turned to him, "Didn't Fi say to you, 'oral tradition, the least reliable' at some point?"

Sky nodded with cloudy eyes. "I still don't see the relevance? Oral tradition doesn't say anything about Hylia disappearing either?" 

At this stage in your journey, he wasn't gonna bat an eye to you mentioning Fi.

You sighed. You were about to explain something that gave you your title once again. You hoped you wouldn't break anyone's trust. 

"You know how the legend goes, yeah? She sealed the evil demons with the help of the hero and surface dwellers and the magic sword, then sent people up to the sky and created the cloud barrier and such?"

He nodded as you continued, "Do you know the rest of the story?" you locked eyes with him for a second, almost as if asking for his permission. You actually weren't sure whether or not he knew. In the end, the cycle did start with him, but there was one other before him and his Zelda.

He didn't seem to be protesting, at least. Wild did tell the others at some point that you worked with Purah and Zelda in the lab, and researched history. So that was still how they were assuming you know such things. The problem usually started when it was personal information. Sometimes the lines were a bit gray, however. A conversation for another time. 

Sky, "Something about the Goddess doing something to keep him sealed? I mean…" he trailed off as he didn't seem like he wanted to reveal the fact that he had been there right after the Demise was sealed. And all the other shenanigans that happened with his Zelda being sealed… But there was a way around telling this, and you could skip his part.

"Right, so she is the one that made the spirit of the hero eternal."

The other Links seemed surprised by this information, Sky protested. "What do you mean? Pretty sure I'm the first, with the forging of the blade and all?"

"Hey, calm down. You are the first in the cycle, that is true. But even you know the legend of Hylia and the surface dwellers, from your time. It's that hero."

He stayed silent, the others also had curious looks. 

"Right, so, after they sealed the evil together, the hero was gravely wounded. She felt for him deeply and was impressed by his devotion to his land, and I guess also felt responsible because these demons kind of targeted her and Triforce in the first place? As she used her divine powers to make the spirit of the hero eternal, she also shed her divinity, to be able to reincarnate as a mortal and meet with the spirit of the hero again. Of course, the phrase 'shed the divinity' is quite vague."

Sky knew the rest, it was up to him to reveal it or not at this point.

"... Then Zelda was born," he added, carefully.

"And you." you put your hand on his shoulder, smiling at him.

You continued, "...you are all aware that all the Zeldas are related, yeah? They are basically all descended from the same bloodline,"

They nodded, "And we are all linked by the spirit of the hero, and we can appear anywhere" Legend added, snickering.

"Well, some of us are also related by blood apparently," Captain slapped his hand to the back of Twilight. 

Sky had a gloomy expression. You were very careful with your next sentence.

"As long as the spirit of the hero and blood of the goddess exists, the creepy stalker should be afraid, basically."

Everybody except Sky, nodded. They were aware, it was talked about before. 

Sky's eyes widened for a moment. You tried to respect his privacy as much as you could, and gave him an apologetic look. Poor guy was probably still blaming himself. He could still hear the words of Demise like yesterday in his head. That type of stuff probably never left you.

"That evil shit is the biggest asshole if you ask me, look at him, he keeps reincarnating and keeps getting defeated." you continued, as if to make a point, took another big sip from the ale. You weren't sure if it worked.

"If you think about it, it's quite the love story," Four spoke from across the table. "Giving up the divinity to see the hero again." 

Also very similar to the story of the Japanese imperial family, with Zeldas descending from a Goddess, but you weren't gonna mention that.

"Also, guys, look, I know some of you won't agree with this," you eyed the Old Man who just raised his eyebrow. "But I think it mostly works. In the grand scheme of things, since the Creation, literally tens of thousands of years have passed, at least… from his point of view" you gave a soft look to Wild.

"And even then, there are only nine of you in front of me," you put the mug down. "I know, even one is too much to subject to this torment, but do you see where I'm coming from? That means, in most parts of history, excluding civil wars, it has been peaceful. Thanks to you." you smiled.

The group stayed silent for a while, pondering. 

______________

Grusa heliy radi neyura lenik, ti suemur tia gehunem, ti suemur!

Sky thought back to the words of Demise as he slayed him. 

Your words were comforting, your logic was sound. He didn’t think about what his words meant back then, he tried not to think about it. He just wanted to save Zelda. He didn’t like what you implied at all, even though when it was discussed before, he already had a good guess…

Yet, even one more incarnation was one too many. 

_____________

The ale kept flowing. 

"So, with this logic, if Hylia doesn't exist, then who the fuck was I talking to via those statues, during my journey?" asked Wild, slurring his words.You weren’t used to hearing him cuss, except in… certain situations. Erhm.

"Man, that does explain why we didn't hear shit from those statues,"  Vet laughed.

"Come oooon… there was some magic presence to them and you know it," Rulie tried to ‘defend’ Wild. 

"I mean, she kinda transcends time and space, so maybe some aspect of her remains via Zeldas? It just says she shed her divinity and she took a mortal form, it is quite vague you know," you continued. You weren’t sure if anybody was listening at this point. 

Captain put this hand on his shoulders “Hey, it’s fine Champion, we all have our ghosts,” he had a sympathetic look on his red, quite tipsy face. “Maybe yours just sounded like a Goddess that doesn’t exist” he almost giggled.

“But but you know… she was giving me all these nice.. Vitality stuff? I felt better after talking to her, stronger?” He was protesting, then he pointed at you “She told me they gave me stamina wheels!”

Oh boy, this was getting out of hand, if he really used those words.

“Yeah suuuuuuuuuure, it totally wasn’t your own training and they came from the random stones you spoke.” Wind added. He was only allowed one, very watered down drink, yet he seemed amused. 

“Hey! Says the guy who talks to a stone and has a funny looking stick!” Wild was getting mad.

“You KNOW it works! I contacted your Slate thing with it!!!” and Wind actually stuck his tongue out. 

Sky was silent, it seemed like he was pondering.

The bickering went on for a while. This was fun and cozy, but they were getting really loud. Time was pinching the bridge of his nose, Twilight and Four looked as if they were almost passing out on the table, you could swear you could hear somebody snooze.

“Okay okay boys calm down,” you tried to get in between.

“Yeah? Aren’t you the one that caused this in the first place, (Y/N)?” Sky said he still looked a bit tipsy with his cute plump red face, but there was a certain seriousness, an edge to it. 

You were taken aback. You have never heard him speak like this. A “huh?” escaped your lips.

“You say we are friends, and then you come and MOCK my beliefs, OUR beliefs? Hylia doesn’t exist? How dare you say that? And saying ‘in the grand scheme of things, it works’? What is wrong with you?” he slurred his words every now and then, but the message of it was clear.

He was actually standing now, albeit taking support from the table. He looked drunk, but you could see he meant what he said. You were speechless. Even Twilight and Four came back from their semi-sleep.

“Link, I…” you wanted to say  you are sorry but you weren’t sure if it would even do it. Your brain was already feeling quite fuzzy from the alcohol. He was right. This wasn’t some fictional made up thing for him. Even when what you said made sense, to him it probably sounded like you completely disregarded his experience. Disregarded Zelda.

"My man, you're seriously getting worked up over a goddess that probably wouldn't even spare you a glance if she were real," Vet chimed in with a mischievous grin, taking a playful jab at Sky's convictions. He didn’t understand. Sure, they all knew their Zeldas were connected with the blood of the Goddess. But they didn’t know how close his Zelda was. How his Zelda was the first incarnation of the mortal Hylia. How she had the memories from millennia ago. How she sacrificed herself.

Sky shot Vet a pointed look. "Vet, you might be the most skeptical person in this group, but even you can't deny the existence of Hylia,” Sky’s tone was… sharp.

Vet shrugged, not taking it personally, leaning back in his chair. "Hey, I believe she exists, all right? But that doesn't mean I have to like her or worship her. She's got that whole 'aloof deity' thing going on, and I've got better things to do than butter up to someone who's never around when you need them."

Time, who had been listening quietly, interjected with his usual air of wisdom. "Vet, while I can appreciate your skepticism, there's a difference between believing in something and having a personal connection to it. It's not about whether Hylia is real or not; it's about the role she plays in the lives of those who hold her dear."

Vet rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh, come on, Old Man. Are you saying you've had a heartfelt chat with the divine herself?"

“Yeah that’s Champion’s specialty,” Wind interjected.

Time chuckled softly. "Not quite. But I do believe in respecting the beliefs that bring people comfort and purpose, even if I don't share them."

The group exchanged amused glances, and even Sky managed a smile. It seemed your words had triggered a contemplative mood among them, leading each of them to reflect on their own perspectives.

"Fine, fine," Vet conceded, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll give you all that. But mark my words, if I ever run into Hylia, I'll be asking her some tough questions."

Laughter erupted around the table as Vet's sarcasm seemed to have lightened the mood. 

"I… I didn't mean to disrespect your beliefs," you stammered, your voice tinged with regret. "I know they're important to you, and I shouldn't have made light of it."

Sky's gaze held yours for a moment, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions – hurt, frustration, and a hint of vulnerability. He let out a sigh, his anger seemingly diffusing as he sank back into his chair, rubbing his temples.

"It's just... it's more than beliefs, (Y/N)," he murmured, his voice softer now. "Hylia is a guiding force for us, a source of strength and hope. And Zelda... She's more than just my... beloved. She's the embodiment of that connection, of the history and purpose we carry."

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest. The weight of your words had hit you, and you realized how thoughtless your remarks had been.

"I understand, I truly am sorry," you said sincerely. "I didn't fully grasp the depth of what it means to you.”

He was silent for a moment, just looking in your eyes. Trying to deduce whether or not you are sincere.

Then he smiled. A bittersweet one, but a smile nonetheless.

You really needed to meet with this Zelda.

~~~~

A/N Anything you are curious about? Ask!

[linked-through-the-centuries]

Fun Facts About Warriors:

Proxi used to speak for him a lot during the War of Eras, but that is now no longer the case. He won’t shut up, actually, he talks a lot in attempt to lighten the mood, and tends to ramble when he gets nervous. Even though he doesn’t need her to be his voice anymore, he and Proxi are still very close, and where he goes, she follows. (She’s sort of adopted him at this point, when they met he was so pathetic and sad looking she could not in good conscience leave him alone. He was a scared kid away from home and she was his only friend and comfort for a long time. She’s incredibly proud of how much he’s grown)

Has a scar running down the right side of his face starting under his eye and ending in the middle of the side of his neck from where he was scratched ‘during battle’ (or so he says). It’s made up of four very close together lines, two of which on the side closer to his ear start a little lower. It was clearly left by a hylian

He has a small scar on his chin on the left side from a failed assassination attempt

Because of his fight with Volga, much of the left side of his body is covered in burn scars, mainly his left arm and side, but it also covers part of his thigh. None of the scarring is visible because of the clothes he wears and the gloves he keeps on, but it causes him pain from time to time. His white tunic he wears under his chainmail and outer green tunic is extremely soft to avoid irritating the sensitive skin as much as possible

Has a lot of food anxiety (because of assassination attempts), so he prefers to either cook for himself or he watches whoever is making the meal like a hawk. His safe food is oranges because due to their peel, they are hard to mess with in a way that isn’t visible. (Mask and Tune are the only ones who fully understand this anxiety since they were there in the War of Eras and witnessed it at its worst. Warriors is a lot more relaxed now about it than he was then)

Warriors has freckles, but they’re hard to see because they’re very light and he’s very tan, and he also rarely walks around without a full face of makeup because he feels he needs to keep up appearances. He has this anxiety that if he doesn’t look like the perfect hero everyone believes him to be, then no one will respect him

He is only 5’7, but he wears boots that have a heel and a very thick sole, so it ends up putting him at 5’9 (shockingly he does not struggle to walk like that. It does get a bit tricky on particularly soft terrains like thick mud or sand, but he manages. Better that than not be the tallest in his mind)

Has no less than 8 knives on his body at any given time. He is very paranoid, but very prepared. It’s saved his life on more than one occasion

After the war ended, Zelda tried to promote him to general but he refused, he never did any of it for the praise or recognition, he’s content to stay a captain (much to the Queen’s frustration). He has a hand picked group of soldiers who work under him who he trusts fully and respects, and they all love him as well. There are quite a lot of them, but Warriors takes the time to learn all of their names and a little about each of them, which would be hard to do if he had a higher rank and more people under him

Originally comes from a small village on the outskirts of Hyrule where he was raised the only son in a family with six sisters, but moved to the city when he was 16 when he enlisted in the army. He only intended to be gone for a few months, he originally signed up to save a younger boy from the draft, Warriors volunteered to take his place

Has a very thick accent that he covers up with a typical ‘city’ accent. It took him years to perfect it, and that’s why he didn’t speak much at the start of the war

Not a natural blond, but he keeps up on his hair maintenance and only lets the faintest hint of his natural dark brown hair come through before he covers up his roots. His hair is also curly and he straightens it, and because of all the things he tortures his hair with, he has a lot of shampoos and conditioners to keep it as healthy as he can

Without all the armor he wears constantly, he looks quite thin (not that he doesn’t with the armor on as well), and a lot of people tend to underestimate him because of it. When people envision a hero they tend to imagine a huge buff guy, and Warriors is definitely not that. Despite his slim build he is extremely strong, he’s all muscle and bones, and is used to hauling around heavy weapons and equipment (and occasionally during the War of Eras, a much shorter Mask). [The exact build I’m thinking of for him is close to female ballet dancers. He has a lot of strength which is very visible when he’s in his element, but outside of that, in normal clothes, you would never be able to guess this guy is as strong as he is.)

Warriors is not someone who should ever be snuck up on. Due to past events in his life and also assassination attempts, he is likely to whip around and pin his ‘attacker’ to the ground, ready to strike, and he’ll only take a moment to see if he’s pinned friend or foe before acting out of self defense. The group learns this the hard way when Tears pats him on the back. (He feels incredibly guilty about it, it’s just a response he cannot stop, and it’s saved his life more times than he can count)

Very, very close friends with his Zelda. They are not in a relationship and never will be, although many people in their era suspect they are

Linkle is his twin sister, and they make each other so much worse. The chaos those two can get up to would put Tune and Mask to shame

While he is a natural born leader, he doesn’t like being the one in charge, but he’ll do it if it’s a necessity. In this group, due to his age and experience, he’s become the unofficial leader, and it’s certainly an adjustment for all of them. Warriors has to realize these are not soldiers to command, and also recognize that he is the oldest and all of them look up to him in some capacity as an older brother figure

If you have any questions please don’t be afraid to ask!!

[hypno-bun]

Rating the Ghouls’ and the Papas’ Driving skills

The ghouls

Cirrus - Cirrus is a great driver, however she does have quite a bit of road rage. If she gets cut off in traffic you better believe that this ghoulette will be screaming profanities that would make even Dew blush. She only drives if one of the better drivers (Aether, Cumulus, or Mountain) isn’t.

“Hey you!!! You mother******”/10

Cumulus- Cumulus is one of the best drivers of the group, even if she does drive a little fast. You always know Cumulus is driving when she whips out her iconic sunglasses. She also has the best playlists of the group. On a long road trip she once sang every song from the Phantom of the Opera, all two and a half hours of it non-stop.

“The PHANTOM of the Opera is there….”/ 10

Sunshine - Since Sunshine is one of the newer ghouls she actually doesn’t know how to drive yet. The other ghouls assume that she already knows how to and Sunshine is just too proud to tell them that she doesn’t know how. So when she’s asked if she wants to drive she will just make up excuses of why the conditions aren’t right. But she does bring the best snacks.

“Oh I forgot my sunglasses and the sun is just too bright out for me to see”/ 10

Rain- Oh sweet little Rain. Rain is absolutely terrified of driving in traffic. On smaller back roads he does just find, but stick him on the 105 in the middle of rush hour, the ghoul will fold quicker than one of Primo’s old lawn chairs. He hates conflict and upsetting people, both of which are basically the ingredients of a traffic jam. Rain will just freeze up right there in the driver’s seat causing his passenger to have to lean over and take the wheel.

“I can’t do this anymore!!!”/ 10

Dewdrop- Dewdrop is a surprisingly good driver. He obeys the speed limit, makes sure whoever is in the car with him wears their seat belt and looks both ways before turning onto a different street. However, Dew doesn’t actually like to drive, so he came up with a plan. The one (and only) time he drove with Aether, Dew drove like a maniac so that he wouldn’t have to drive again. Rain is the only person that Dew will drive anywhere. Even though he won't admit it he has a soft spot for the younger ghoul.

“No Dew, you don’t have to drive”/ 10

Swiss - This ghoul is not allowed to drive. He often gets too distracted by the music or other cars or signs or… well you get the point. Swiss will offer to drive to give the current driver a break but is quickly met with a “no I’m good”. Swiss doesn’t really mind though, in all honestly he much rather be looking out the window or napping.

“SWISS! EYES ON THE ROAD!”/ 10

Mountain - As stated above Mountain is one of the better drivers. He is a pretty laid back guy so he doesn’t struggle with road rage. The only problem is his height. He will push the seat back as far as the car will allow him and sometimes that isn’t even enough. You better hope you’re not the one sitting behind him because you will have no leg room.

“I need to stretch my legs”/ 10

Aether - 85% of the time you will find Aether being the one to drive the other ghouls around. In fact he taught the other ghouls how to drive. Aether treats the road laws like they are a divine message. He is often the one who has to break up any squabbles between the ghouls during long trips. Aether will also lock the car five times before he finally feels like the car is truly locked.

“Don’t make me turn this car around!”/10

The Papas

Primo - As much as we all love Primo we have to face the facts- Primo drives like an old man. He’s not a bad driver but he is a slow one. The man insists that there is no reason for him to go above 50 km/h (30 mph). There is no budging him on this subject, so you might as well just sit back and try to distract yourself.

“We will get there when we get there”/ 10

Secondo - Secondo drives fast, like ‘buckle up and pray’ fast. The number of speeding tickets this man has gotten has now reached triple digits. Everyone in the clergy wonders how he even still has his license.

“But did you die?”/ 10

Terzo - NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE. Terzo once drove his car through the front door of the church because it was “faster than walking”. Needless to say his driving privileges were promptly taken away by the clergy.

Not even allowed to touch car keys/ 10

Copia - Copia is actually a pretty good driver and his skills have only gotten better. He has a lot of experience from driving Nihil and Sister Imperator around back when he was a Cardinol. Copia really enjoys going out for relaxing drives on his day off since it allows him to get some time with his thoughts.

Grace Kelly in a convertible vibes/ 10

Nihil - Also drives like an old man but very poorly. Nihil often runs into curbs, bushes, and anything else that is unfortunate enough to reside beside the road. The man is (was) practically blind so everyone is sure that his driver’s license expired about 20 years ago and he hasn’t updated it.

“Who put that there?”/ 10

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

OC LOREDROP PRETTY PLEASE??

okayyy!!! i haveeeee soooooo many OCs, i'm going to talk about the ones from the fairy realm part in my story!!

right, so one of my deuteragonists from the previous part of the story, Hana Kaetsu, in the fantasy arc, accidentally gets sent to the fairy realm by reading a letter from a mysterious group mistakenly delivered to her, that was actually meant for her classmate Sybil Villin who's secretly a witch (she's pretty open about her interest in making potions and researching the supernatural and all that but ofc everyone just thinks she's interested in it cause. people don't generally believe in that anymore). anywayyyyy cause of Hana's little misadventure there, she because one of four people in her class who are now able to see ghosts and other supernatural creatures due to now having a connection with the supernatural. the other three are Sybil, ofc, cause she's a witch, her friend Naoki Himura because he managed to free and summon the ghost of their murdered classmate Ashley Atwell, and Ash herself cause. ghost

butttt before being able to return to the human world after Sybil, Naoki and Ash figured out what was going on when she suddenly disappeared (only they noticed that Hana had gone missing due to her disappearance being of supernatural causes, and them being the only ones around who have that experience- for everyone else, it's as if Hana never existed but they remember her again as if nothing happened after she returns), Hana met Sybil's "coven" (which is a gathering of witches, but they're not all witches, half of them are fae), the coven being the one who tried to address that letter to Sybil, wanting her back as she'd suddenly lost contact with them for a few years. where Hana ends up after being transported there is a village in the fairy realm called "Glacialisville" and the forests surrounding it, a slightly cold area that gets very snowy winters and not very warm summers, only about 25 degrees Celsius max. also quite windy and prone to storms

the coven consists of:

Lady Esmerelda- a forty-six year old witch who is basically the leader, currently the lady of the mansion they are based in, "Glacies Manor" though she doesn't own it, just looking after it until Rowan feels prepared enough to take on the responsibility. adoptive mother of Rowan and Dahlia

Rowan Leblanc- a nineteen year old witch. his bio mother was executed for being caught practicing witchcraft- her and her ancestors were the true owners of Glacies Manor and are a long line of very powerful witches (though are known for having slightly unstable magic compared to others), including a particularly infamous one...

Dahlia Leblanc- a seventeen year old vampire who was banished from the vampire realm, in which she was princess of one of the royal families. disowned due to not being considered a "real" vampire as she was born with an incredibly rare and tricky condition that made her highly allergic to blood

Marceline- a seventeen year old witch, old friends with Sybil and the one who set out to find her again. Marcy is incredibly skilled with a sword and plans to enrol into the uni below

Belle, Olivier and Ciel Krieger- twenty year old fairy triplets who attend an university that specifies in training future members of the fairy army with sword fighting, archery etc

Nixie- a seventeen year old unique type of fairy that can shape shift- however he can only turn into creatures that humans consider fictional, such as a unicorn, pegasus, phoenix, dragon, mermaid

Ghost- twelve years old, a type of fairy known as changeling who was switched into an awful family in the human world. Lady Esme found her and immediately saved and took her in after seeing how she was treated due to being fae. cannot speak due to having a damaged throat from that "family" trying to kill her by stabbing, prefers to mainly communicate through drawings and miming. is able to communicate with these jelly-like floating creatures around the forest who she often holds tea parties with

Lillie- a twelve year old witch who looks up to the older witches in the coven (Lady Esme, Marcy and especially Rowan due to him being very older brotherly) who is incredibly excited about becoming able to use controlled magic at thirteen (spoiler- doesn't happen, she's murdered four days before her thirteenth birthday)

need two more characters to make a whole "thirteen" for the coven feel, haven't thought of them yet

other major characters!! Dahlia and Marcy's college classmates, all also seventeen (well. probably not cause birthdays and all that but i haven't figured it out yet. they attend Glacialisville College of Arts, where they have compulsory English (mixed Lang and Lit), Maths and History + three or occassionally four creative subjects:

Vie von Vogelblut- a vampire who suffered similar trauma to Dahlia, being thrown out of the vampire realm due to disownment. he lives with his equally disowned aunt and her daughter, Rouge, who while technically his cousin, is more like his older sister. Rouge is four years older than him, twenty-one, and also goes to that army uni thing that the Krieger triplets go to. Vie is somewhat childhood friends with Dahlia, he's basically her second brother, she's his second sister. he takes Hair and Makeup, German, Creative Writing and Theatre

Raphael- a fairy who was immediately adopted into the group by the extroverted Dahlia and ends up being very good friends with Vie. Raffi takes Drawing and Painting, Photography and Arabic

Clarissa- a fiery fairy who's besties with Dahlia, frenemies with Vie. idk what she takes yet

Alexandrite- a witch who's particularly gifted with elemental magic. takes Drawing and Painting, Sculpture and Photography

Nora- a fairy who's rather wary of flying due to being visually impaired and there being less to feel in the air. she has a Golden Retriever called Leo as a service animal and she takes Violin, Creative Writing and Song Writing

Natalie and Amaryllis- a pair of fairy sisters who've been through some crap (father lured to death by a demon). they both get along well with Vie. apart from her sister and Vie, Amy's only friends with Dahlia and Alexandrite due to severe social anxiety and Nat's much more outgoing and on very good terms with most in college. Amy and Nora also wanted to be friends due to having similar fashion sense, however, there was a communication barrier due to Nora's visual impairment and Amy being selectively mute (so Nora wouldn't be able to read what Amy writes but at the same time, Amy's unable to speak to her) but!! they both decide to learn Morse code (Amy taps her messages onto Nora's hand) so they eventually get to get along. idk all the subjects the sisters take yet, but Nat does Photography as one of them and Amy takes Hair and Beauty (same class as Vie)

oh yeah i forgot about Dion- Clarissa's cousin, just kind of a bitch really

there's more but aaaaaaa i think. i've gone insane enough

[sapphos-darlings]

Who wants to talk about gender? Apparently everybody. That topic hasn't lost its shine in several years now. But who wants to talk about detransitioning? No one. So I will, again, with no memory whatsoever of what I spoke of the last time I opened my mouth about it.

It's been a couple years now since I dropped the label of trans man and started living as a woman, and it's been just about the easiest thing to do, which would have surprised the me that I was at 27 when I had to quit testosterone for the last time due to the health consequences I was getting from it. I was so worried about having to detransition - and I didn't even want to, but it was a what if in my mind, a scary thing that I felt might be inevitable for me, but having been "living" as a trans man for a decade and on hormones for half that time, it also felt insurmountable, the amount of things that I couldn't change anymore too large.

In reality, turns out that detransition, in my case, meant putting my energy into the things that actually benefited me. Transition just wasn't going my way in just about every way: the only place where I was successful was within my friend group, and in the sense that my family was accepting. They didn't always use the right pronouns, but at least they respected me and understood to the degree to which I could expect them to - my friends, on the other hand, have had much more difficulty adjusting to me now living as a woman than anything. The most complicated situations I've so far ran into with detransition are extremely minor, in comparison to the hell I was living through as a trans man - firstly, I sometimes have issues getting my parcels out of the mail service, because they need the signature and ID of the person who ordered them. Who is me, except they don't expect me to have the name that I do, because what they see is a woman, and who they expect is a man. Another is that, quite recently, an online friend of mine was introducing me to another friend of his, a man who is very straight, and had a whole sequence of apologising over difficulties with pronouns and identities, because it's all so very new to him. I realised later that he'd thought I was a trans woman, and that's why he was so flustered about my pronouns. We didn't even talk over voice chat - this was all in text. This same friend who made the introduction has defaulted to simply using the singular they as my pronoun, which is moderately aggravating, as I don't identify as nonbinary and don't use they as a singular pronoun. Minor inconveniences, but annoying.

Comparing this to the daily worry about passing, having to fuss over how many layers of clothes I would wear in order to hide my body, not being able to go outside during summer solely because there was no clothes that I could do so in, being afraid of questions, having my private life poked by strangers, breathing in my binder, introducing myself to new people, navigating the constant concern over how to express my identity, how they might take it, would it be awkward - now, I just walk out of the door in whatever outfit I may be in and that's the end of it. I have so much more energy and so little anxiety in comparison. It's wonderful.

There's the other side to this, too. My partner was distraught when I shaved my whiskers and my curly neck hair for the trip to the capital. I've come to realise that in this relationship, I'm thoroughly respected and loved for the creature that I am, with the sex characteristics that I have, and with the fluctuating presentation that I come with. Breasts are soft and nice to lay on, to hold; facial hair is fun to brush one's nose through, to kiss, to twirl around one's fingers. My partner found my first white hairs amongst there, too. There's no conflict there for them or for me; my body, with its characteristics, with its different voices used in different situation, are simply parts of me that are lovely to them. I feel at ease there and it very much brings together the way I feel about myself now in general, as I no longer have those issues with my body that I had before. I'm fine being the shape and size that I am. I'm fine having the vocal range that I have. I like the hair I'm growing, whether it be typical or atypical from a biological perspective.

There's a prevalent understanding of detransition as a second transition, where one goes from one sex to another and returns to the previous one, struggling to undo the "damage" this first transition caused. This isn't my experience at all. I spent a decade of my life desperately trying to pass as a man - I have zero interest in doing the same in reverse. What I wanted, through all of this, was to simply feel okay to be what I am, internally and externally. There are hundreds of factors at play in how I became what I am now, but I truly, finally, feel like I'm in a good place with all of that. I don't feel much inner conflict between my body and my view of what it should be, and I've stopped worrying about what it could be, because things that could be are infinite and things that are are very finite. It's so much nicer to not be pushing against reality every day, to wear a costume because the possibility of being discovered or undone by people I cannot predict is simply too horrifying to consider. It's amazing not to have to fear speaking, because I'll make people around me embarrassed and cause them to apologise over and over again, causing a never-ending awkwardness by simply existing, because they didn't read me right the first time. I've never hated anything quite as much as causing a scene, and I've finally stopped causing scenes by simply existing. And yet, I retain the things that made me feel more comfortable in my skin. Further, I am still loved and still accepted by the people who matter - among them a partner who is just as excited about the ways I don't fit into the model of a woman as they are about the ways that I do.

It's just nice to finally be comfortable and feel like I belong among other people, instead of being a ceaseless observer and judge of my own performance in a role I don't even want to be playing.