#which is why i barely posted and only did on source blogs for the twice a month thing

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Wings of Freedom (Part 2)🔥

A/N: Finally got part 2 done! Thank you for your patience with this mini series, I’ve been so busy with school lately and I still have so many drafts that I’ve been trying to publish them evenly so I don’t keep you guys waiting for anything too long. Thank you so much for your support, I love all of you so much and I can’t wait to show you the other stuff I have  planned for this blog. I have a few requests on the way, so stay tuned for that, but for now, here is the sequel to Wings of Freedom (finally)!

Part 1 is here if you haven’t read it yet!

🐉Song Recommendation: “Machine” By: MisterWives 🐉

Word Count: ~3.9k

~~~

Levi felt like he was experiencing deja vu as he glanced around the courtroom from where he stood beside Erwin, waiting for Hanji to come back. Only, he felt a lot more nervous. The first time, he had felt nothing but an impatience to get the event started, his eyes hard and cold as he had looked down at an immature, green-eyed brat who could turn into a titan, waiting for his future to be decided as either a useful tool for humanity, or a human experiment to be tortured in a lab. Now, his insides were doing their best impression of a pretzel, churning and twisting until he felt sick with worry. This wasn’t going to be a meeting about some random brat from the streets, this was concerning the fate of the love of his life.

The night she had come back had been bittersweet for both of them. They had spent the night wrapped up together, (Y/N)’s wings out for the first time around Levi, the warm membranes curled around him protectively so he could feel her heartbeat thrumming through his entire body. They had been cuddled close, holding each other like it was the last time they would be able to do so, unsure of what events would unfold the next morning. Both Levi and (Y/N) knew everything was about to change, knew (Y/N)’s fate would be challenged and decided the next day, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from rolling around in his gut, making his stomach give another violent lurch.

“Hey,” Erwin said lowly, placing a hand on Levi’s shoulder when he noticed his friend’s queasy expression, “She’s going to be alright. We will fight for her with everything we’ve got.”

Levi managed a stiff nod in Erwin’s direction, his heart warming at his friend’s support. Although Levi had never doubted his friends, he had been surprised by how supportive and accommodating they had been when Levi had announced (Y/N)’s initial reappearance. They had both expressed their immense relief at her safe return while Hanji worked to heal her bullet wound, keeping her enthusiastic questioning to a minimum at Levi’s insistence.

Levi’s thoughts were cut short by the appearance of said energetic scientist, the tall brunette carefully picking her way through the rows of gathered officers and moving to stand on the other side of Erwin.

“She’s doing okay,” Hanji said before Levi could even open his mouth. “She’s a little nervous but that’s normal. Everything else is going smoothly so far, so she will be brought out in a few minutes.”

Levi nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was trying his hardest to stay calm, to keep from lunging at Premier Zackley and strangling him until he promised to let (Y/N) go, but it was starting to strain on him. His skin broke out in a sweat as he forced himself to take deep breaths. He could do this. For (Y/N), he could do this.

He immediately looked up at the sound of the large wooden doors opening with a loud creak, his attention settling on the (h/c) haired woman handcuffed between two guards, her head down so her hair curtained her expression from others. His eyes narrowed and a low growl slipped from between his lips at the sight of the bruises on her arms and legs from the chains and cuffs she had been wearing in her cell. His blood was roaring in his ears as he fought every instinct he had to swoop down and bring her back into his arms. He had almost lost her once, he wouldn’t lose her again, no matter the cost.

Her wings were hidden, the huge black membranes tucked safely in the slits of her back, away from the prying eyes of the assembled soldiers. That at least gave Levi some relief, the knowledge that the extra sensitive appendages were kept from harm or unwanted touch.

The dull chatter in the courtroom hushed as (Y/N) was brought to the center of the room, pushed into a kneeling position on the same platform Eren had been placed on just a few years prior. One of the guards holding her leaned down and clapped her manacles to the sturdy metal post behind her, double checking that she was secure before backing away, moving with the other guard to stand on either side of Premier Zackley, guns at the ready.

The room was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop. The people in the room barely breathed as they waited impatiently for Zackley to finish preparing his notes, eager to see if they rumors were true. The Premier cleared his throat, shuffling the papers in front of him as he peered down at the woman on the platform from over the top of his glasses.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

(Y/N) looked up when her name was called, her eyes hard as she stared up at the older man. 

“Yes.”

“Member of the Survey Corps. Age (#). Cadet under the command of Squad Leader Hanji Zoe,” Zackley read off, glancing at her after every sentence for her quick nod of confirmation. “It looks like you have no criminal record, but your place and date of birth are unknown, so that technically can not be confirmed nor denied outside of the information gathered during your time as a soldier.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard but did not respond, waiting, just as Hanji had told her to do, for the Premier to make his point. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be patient, knowing that if she rushed this, if she wasn’t careful, she could easily be thrown to the wolves.

“It looks like, based on these reports, that you are a loyal soldier who has a clean background, a solid record, and a hard working personality, since it is labeled here that you are about to be promoted to Squad Leader,” the Premier leaned forward, “that means, we are here for a different reason entirely. Tell me, do you know why you are here?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) answered clearly.

“Very good. Now, without further ado, this court is now in session.”

As soon as Zackley opened the floor, a man from the Military Police stood, a smug grin on his face as he glanced at the annoyed scowls of the Survey Corps officers who were watching him.

“Premier Zackley, thank you for that wonderful introduction,” the man started off, making Levi roll his eyes so hard they hurt. “I would like to start off on behalf of the Military Police and say that this woman should be placed in our custody.”

The Survey Corps officers exchanged glances at that. They had been expecting the man to rant on and on about how she should be tortured, experimented on, or killed, not taken in by another branch of the military. The one closest to the King, no less.

“Interesting, state your case,” Zackley said, folding his hands in front of his face.

“We believe she could be of great use with us, sir. She could be a viable source of protection for our current ruling monarch, and we could use her to increase funding for our resources and supplies. Nobles would come from miles around to see her, it’s something we can use to better the lives of all of the soldiers in the military! Instead of groveling for money at their feet, we could charge them to come see her, within the safety of the walls, perfectly ready to display for anyone who is willing to pay.”

(Y/N) had to fight to keep from grimacing in disgust at the thought of being constantly gawked at like some kind of freak, put out for people to see as if she were some sort of entertainment for them, rather than a human being trying to fight for humanity.

“What use is earning money from her like some kind of exotic beast if our soldiers keep dying?” Erwin cut in, making (Y/N)’s eyes soften at the sound of her friend’s hard voice trying to make others see reason. “She is needed in the Survey Corps with us, it’s what she was made for. She can continue to fight against the titans with us, allowing us to give her the proper protection as she uses her gifts to make fighting these man-eating monsters a hell of a lot easier. She would waste away if she was stuck within the walls with the Military Police.”

“Well, as I see it, Commander Erwin, she can’t be trusted outside of the walls with you. She hid this for how long? How many years now has she let her comrades die over and over again, never stepping in to save them? According to her reports, she didn’t try to assist any of you during your missions other than with the normal efforts displayed by every soldier, at least, until she apparently saved Captain Levi. And rumor has it, those two are sexually involved with one another, which would make for that incident to be purely based on bias rather than a change of heart. If she really was meant to be a helpful tool for humanity, she would’ve become that by now.”

Erwin shook his head, his hand reaching out slightly to touch Levi’s forearm when the shorter raven-haired man opened his mouth to retort. “She has already explained to us her reasoning behind that. If she had shown herself on base, she would’ve risked getting hunted or killed, or getting those around her injured if someone decided to use her friends and comrades as blackmail for her capture. If she had shown herself on the field, she would’ve risked sending her comrades into shock, making it difficult, if not impossible, for them to concentrate on the mission, running the risk of twice the number of soldiers dying. She has tried to find the right time to reveal her gift to us, but it’s been nearly impossible for her, something that was proven by the men of the Garrison out on the field when she finally did reveal herself, only to get shot and chased.”

“So you are saying that she was justified in letting the hundreds of lives she could’ve saved die? Because she couldn’t find the right timing?” The Military Police pig said incredulously, his every word like a punch to (Y/N)’s gut. “I was unaware the soldiers of the Survey Corps were so selfish, cared so little about their men in battle. If this doesn’t further bolster my claims, I don’t know what would.”

“That’s not what I said,” Erwin said, his voice cold. “I said-”

“And you brought up the men from the Garrison,” the MP cut off Erwin, smiling wider at the glares thrown his way. “I have actually brought them today as witnesses. They would like to say a few words, if that is alright?”

The Premier thought for moment before giving a slow nod.

As soon as the all clear was given, the MP motioned for two of the Garrison soldiers who had fought beside the Survey Corps that day to come forward. (Y/N) growled low in her throat at the sight of the men, especially the bigger of the two, the one that had shot her. She noticed Levi tense out of the corner of her eye, knowing he remembered just as well. She threw him a quick reassuring glance just as Hanji placed a hand on his shoulder, imploring him not to react. Levi managed to calm himself, crossing his arms over his chest, but she could tell it was taking every ounce of effort from him not to kill the man.

“Names?” The Premier asked.

“Louis Bordgenson.”

“Graham Pickett.” 

“Bordgenson, Pickett, could you please explain why you are here? Why do you believe (Y/N) (L/N) should be placed under Military Police custody?”

“We were two of the few to witness what happened when (L/N) saved Captain Levi from the titans, sir,” Graham said. “We are here to support the Military Police in their decision of taking (L/N) into their custody because we believe that what we saw on the field is a perfect example of the Survey Corps’ shortcomings as a branch. They need to be improved, restored with proper management and leadership. And it all starts with weeding out the soldiers that need to be corrected, allowing them to reevaluate their life choices in a place that won’t get others killed. Out on that field, we were attacked by all of the Survey Corps officers when I shot at (L/N) for my own defense, without even pausing for a moment to consider the situation. That woman attacked me, nearly knocked me right into a titan’s mouth with her wings, and flew off, leaving her comrades for dead, even as they still fought for her in the end.”

Louis nodded along with what Graham was saying before opening his mouth to add on. “Exactly. And when we got back from beyond the walls, we were arrested for attacking a Survey Corps officer. We were called lunatics, psychotics, for claiming to have seen a winged woman, and yet, here she is. We were right all along and none of the Survey Corps officers stepped forward to say it was wrong. To top it all off, when she came back, they sheltered her! Hid her with them and tried to pass everything off as normal.”

“From what I saw, (Y/N) (L/N) did not attack either of you,” Erwin said, cutting the two younger men off from continuing with their ranting diatribe. His tone was sharpened ice and his voice was filled with venom, waiting to strike like a snake in the shadows with barely suppressed fury. (Y/N) felt a conflicting wave of pride, gratitude, and apprehension wash through her. She loved Erwin, he was a close friend of hers, but that sometimes made her forget how god damn scary he could be when upset.

“You boys seem to have forgotten that you two were not the only ones on the field that day. From what everyone else saw, (Y/N) performed a great service to save a comrade, exposing herself in the most vulnerable way possible to try to help us escape. To help you, escape. She never singled you out, never tried to approach you in any manner other than one of friendly disposition. She did knock you over with the power of her wings as you mentioned, but she only did that because you were standing too close to her in your attempt to capture her for yourself. She was just trying to fly away peacefully, and would not have left us on that battlefield if you had not ordered your men to charge and fire. Your imprisonment was valid, and your accusations are dramatized and inaccurate.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes as Erwin’s last word rang out. Her stomach was churning and she felt lightheaded, her heart conflicted with so many differing emotions at once. She was grateful for Erwin and the Survey Corps, her friends who were fighting for her, fighting for her future, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she didn’t deserve them and their efforts. While she hated to admit it, the men from the Garrison weren’t wrong. She had spent years hiding her wings away, failing to save her comrades because of her fear, watching as they were devoured when the faster speed of her wings possibly could’ve saved them. Her head drooped a little as the men in front of her fought. Could she even call herself a soldier? A scout? Did she deserve to fight alongside them? Did she deserve… Levi?

She sucked in a shuddering breath, willing the tears to stay back. Maybe she did deserve to be nothing more than an animal to be viewed in a cage. Something to be gawked at and displayed like some kind of trophy. Could she even be considered human? She was so abnormal, so fucked up, mentally and physically. How could she possibly be considered safe enough to be around those she cared about?

Just as she was about to succumb to the notion of her worthlessness, a sharp, deep voice made her eyes snap open and glance to her left where her lover was standing steadfast beside his commander, his silver eyes burning like molten iron.

“Now listen here, all of the claims you have made so far have been either disproven or provided with solutions. (Y/N) has been nothing but the most amazing soldier, dutifully working to take care of everyone around her and constantly fighting for a better world. Just because you fuckwads can’t get your heads out of your asses long enough to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. (Y/N) was faced with an incredibly tough decision in her life, and she’s been forced to deal with it ever since she was born. She is just human. Simply, wonderfully, human, and there is nothing wrong with the choices she made,” Levi said, making (Y/N)’s eyes water with the love she felt for the raven-haired man.

“I know she will continue to be a necessary asset for the Survey Corps, where she can keep doing what she knows how to do best. If we lock her up in some manor to be cooed at by nobles, we will be lost. For god’s sake we have to deal with Jaeger every day and she’s significantly less of a threat than he is, but has twice the amount of usefulness to us.”

“Oh, as if that little experiment is going so well,” the MP said with a sneer. “The Survey Corps got custody of that one and look what’s happened? Cities destroyed, people lost. Captain Levi, your own squad got brutally murdered by an abnormal on an expedition because that titan shifter was too useless to do anything to help you. If we let you take custody of this one as well, we fear that the odds of humanity winning this war will shift further downwards. The fate of every human within these walls is in the hands of the Survey Corps soldiers. The last thing your branch needs is another distraction, or in better terms, a mistake.”

(Y/N) winced at the insult, her body flooding with icy fear as murmurs of agreement floated through the crowd. She knew she should’ve expected this possibility, had even reminded herself of the fact when Erwin left to tell the Premier about her existence earlier that week. She had known from the moment she had agreed to reveal herself publicly and use her gifts in battle to fight the titans and save her friends that this could happen. She could be turned against, experimented on, taken back to a cage and locked up, just as she had spent most of her early life. But even knowing about it didn’t stop the anger, the fear from filling her from head to toe, making her shift nervously on the wooden platform. She wanted to speak, wanted to say something to counteract what the Military Police were claiming, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing it was for the best. If she started talking now, fueled by her emotions, after spending the entire time staying quiet, it would look as if she was becoming desperate, trying to hide something. And with how hard Levi and Erwin were fighting for her, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin everything by opening her stupid mouth.

Levi and Erwin were about to retort when the Premier held up his hand, his eyes closed as he waited for the room to settle down again. The room quickly hushed. (Y/N) waited, her entire body tense as she stared up at the Premier, her heart thumping so loudly she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

Everything will be fine.

“Based on the claims made by both parties, I have come to a decision on where the defendant shall be placed until further notice,” Zackley said.

I won’t let them take you away from me.

“While both parties have put forth compelling arguments, I can not determine whether or not bias or deceit is at play here on either side. It is because of this that I have decided to put you in the place that I believe would be the safest for humanity should things take a turn for the worst.”

No matter what, we are in this together, wings and all.

“(Y/N) (L/N), I am officially placing you under the custody of the Military Police, where you will be kept and cared for until I can find the proper evidence to prove your innocence.”

I love you.

(Y/N) felt her world shift. She heard Levi’s roar of fury, Erwin’s sharp voice ringing out into the hall as he tried to reason with the Premier, Hanji’s screech of shock and anger, but no words registered. The Military Police. Anything but the Military Police. She wanted to struggle against her binds, wanted to roar and scream and snap, wanted to stretch her wings and fly away, far away, just her and Levi together. But she couldn’t do that. She hung her head, unable to hold back the tidal wave of tears this time as they slid down her cheeks in clear rivers, running down her soft skin to splatter on the floor beneath her.

She could practically hear the smirk in the MP’s voice as he thanked the Premier and barked orders at his assembled soldiers to grab her. She wanted nothing more than to slap that smug grin off his face but she knew she couldn’t. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she felt hands rain down on her, touching her, dragging her, chaining her.

When she was finally unhooked from the steel post in the center of the room, the Military Police soldiers holding her tightly between them, dragging her towards the door, (Y/N) managed to look up. She caught Levi’s eye from where he was being held back by both Erwin and Hanji, the sorrow and desperation in those stunning gunmetal hues making her heart shatter. She didn’t know when she’d see him again, if she ever would see him again. And even if she was granted the opportunity to see him, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold him, kiss him, love him like she always did.

Even though her heart was being ripped to shreds, (Y/N) managed a watery smile in his direction, her lips moving to mouth the words, “I will see you again, I promise,” to him. She saw him stand a little straighter, a glint in his eye as he took her words to heart. She just knew that he was going to do everything in his power to make that happen.

No matter what, we are in this together, wings and all.

(Y/N) kept her eyes on him as she was led back through the large wooden doors of the courtroom, refusing to look away from her lover until the doors had completely shut behind her, officially separating her from the love of her life.

[serenedash]

I started rambling about my experience with kh and then it turned into khux and then it just turned into me rambling about Ryou and my art journey????? enjoy I guess,

it’s very long but there’s art in there :)

It’s funny to think about my kh journey as a whole tbh, I grew up watching my mom play video games, which included kh1 and 2. I wasn’t allowed to play the playstation2 we owned BUT I did have a gameboy so the first game I played was CoM (after my mom finished it ofc,) so I guess you could say I’ve always been passionate about kh “””side games””” lmao but I did fall off of kh very quickly bc again, I wasn’t allowed to play our PS2 and also I Am A Terrible Gamer I’ve Never Finished CoM I’m sorry you all had to find out like this, but then 358/2 came out when I was in middle school and!!! I didn’t care and I didn’t play idk why lol

Anyway, fast forward to high school I’m like 15 and my older sister, who HAS been keeping up with kh, has a wallpaper on her phone of roxas and ventus. And bc I haven’t kept up I say “nice roxas wallpaper” and she says “thanks but it’s roxas and ventus” and I proceeded to get so mad that I was determined to prove to her that her wallpaper was just roxas twice and then I fell down the BBS rabbit hole and suddenly I was reading about vanitas and then I’m reading the fan translations of the BBS novel and I’m crying??? I am sobbing???? and that’s how I actually got into kh for real lol we are vanitas stans before we are people,

It’s so funny how I thought I was some kh super fan, knowing all this stuff that I spent so long reading and rewatching cutscene movies, but I never once, SOMEHOW NEVER ever came across khx. It’s so absurd and bizarre I seriously have no idea how I never once encountered khx prior to khux. I suppose that has to do with the fact I wasn’t involved in the fandom? In early high school I had stepped away from fandoms as a whole and I didn’t have any interest in really posting content or interacting with fans anymore bc of how burnt out I was from a previous fandom,

but khux released! and I was so hype and excited for it! on launch day I was a senior in high school, I had ran around to every “nerd” and weeb I could find in school to ask them to join my party and fun fact about me is I have crippling social anxiety I literally refuse to start conversations irl so holy shit I was OUT HERE doing the MOST

My player just originally had my name (Matt) but everyone in my party had fun names so Ryou was born! High school was one big yugioh phase for me and ryou bakura is one of my favorite characters ever so it was just the logical name choice lol I quickly started creating Ryou, the character, as well. I was also leaving my homestuck phase and that + vanitas obsession made This character design (art circa 2016)

If y’all are familiar with my kh oc’s you might notice that keyblade now belongs to my kid Monty LOL

Anyway that got scrapped quickly for the chip and dale outfit (which is where Ryou’s trademark goggles are from <3) Goggles have been a staple of my character designs for a LONG TIME so like, it had to be done, (that’s a separate ramble about a separate oc tho)

OG Ryou was an interesting guy; he was a young party leader with this overwhelming responsibility on his shoulders bc of his status as a party leader. In his original story, he also struggled heavily with darkness, much like Terra but for Ryou it was more that the darkness was controlling him and not like a source of power like it was for Terra

A big part of early Ryou I kept, however, was the crushing awareness of loss. One of my party members (the strongest one at the time,) had left without saying a word and I was very confused and hurt. This was around the time the ephemera plot was happening so I decided to incorporate it into Ryou’s story; having him experience losing a friend to darkness since it’s so normal for wielders in Daybreak Town to just disappear, and this would unintentionally become a theme for both me and Ryou as khux friends would just randomly disappear.

I was desperate for khux at this point and I decided to watch the fan translations for khx and GOD, god, was I obsessed. I couldn’t stop thinking about the foretellers. And I’m not going off about that here bc I already did that, but I actually started entering fandom again! I did it slowly, I started on tumblr before this blog was made altho it was me sending anons to the few khux related blogs I could have lol a friend convinced me to get twitter where I got involved with the ffxv fandom, which led me to the kh fandom and eventually the khux fandom there which is what REALLY got me going on khux.

I joined discord servers, most of the servers I’m in are khux related, and from there I joined the khux oc rp (shout out to anyone there who might be reading this lol here’s some art from the beginning of the rp,)

It’s SO FUNNY how the RP influenced me so heavily. I hadn’t RP’d in YEARS, I used to have a strict no oc rp policy, but here I was? And the funny part is, I had barely developed Ryou. I had scrapped his original story and all I had was POST WAR Ryou so I literally had to reverse write him; I had only ever written him as a depressed, guilt ridden adult, but it was a fucking blast and I have such fond memories of this rp when it was active,

But anyway, this encouraged me to get more serious about art! I started drawing, writing, cosplaying, and roleplaying when I hadn’t done any of that stuff in a very long time. The first time I ever drew a background was for a deviant art khux competition actually LOL

also! I always think extremely fondly of the drawing I did of Aced in the keyblade war. It was also one of the first backgrounds I ever drew and it felt like my real starting point in the khux fandom. It got a ton of notes on here and someone wrote a tiny fic in a reblog which just made me SO HAPPY like it really felt like people were noticing me :) I was going to draw a matching Ira but!! I just never did!! One day tho, it’s on my art bucket list to redraw this along with Ira,

Aside from my personal growth, khux was great for my social life ngl, I made SO MANY friends online and got to meet a ton of people irl over the years! It’s crazy to think about all the people I now know and talk to? It honestly makes me really emotional. I’ll never forget taking the train into NYC and meeting up with discord friends. Going to conventions and talking with people about the latest khux update? Absolutely insane and those were some GOOD TIMES, if I thanked every khux friend or even just person who made an impact on me then we’d be here for a LONG TIME,

Fun fact, for my Lauriam cosplay all I needed to buy was the wig I just owned his outfit LOL also? Probably retiring that cosplay ngl people treated me like absolute garbage when I wore him and it led to a lot of confidence issues for awhile ngl. That’s probably one of the only memorable negative experiences I have with khux; it was great when khux people recognized me but for kh fans that weren’t in khux? They were FUCKING MEAN??? fuck kh fandom at large, I only care about khux fandom,

This leads me to another huge part of my experience in khux fandom: THEORIES!! I used to write SO MANY and oh my god my brain was so full all the time. It was a huge appeal for me in the fandom; I had been previously writing theory posts in the RWBY fandom and it just migrated over to khux for me lol I had done a ton of theorizing around Lauriam tbh, it was really the only reason I liked his character at all bc initially I did not care about the dandelions, anyone who wasn’t Skuld I was like “please leave Now thanks”

A funny part of khux fandom I never intended to be apart of is the MEMES, I really only started doing memes as stress relief bc college had me so busy all I had time/energy for was these quick little shit post drawings.

The first meme I made, file name “invi despair” LOL we need to get her a girlfriend smh anyway, I think in my senior year of college I did a bunch of rapid fire memes all in one month bc the stress of finals was getting so bad afdgfhdgf as far as I know my impact on this fandom will be my memes bc all I do now is enter a kh/khux server and introduce myself and I go “yeah I draw art. here’s a meme” and everyone goes OH YOU, honestly I am nothing if not a clown

I’ve talked so much idk where I’m going with this. Khux is just a good game even if the gameplay actually kind of really sucks yknow lol but it was the first game I played where I like, REALLY got into the meta and the mechanics. I used to read so much on the mechanics and watch youtube videos on which medals were worth pulling for. I was never a whale or a top player exactly, but I could rank well if I tried lol I’ve made it to the top 100 for solo rankings, my party has made it to top 10, and in pvp I’ve made top 300. I’m not the highest level in my party but FUCK do I know how to manipulate this game LOL

And with all that hard work, the strategies, the theorizing, the content I’ve made-- it’s been my life for 5 years. I’ve logged into khux almost every single day. At the end, I have logged 1820 days in khux out of 1910 days. Kinda crazy. Crazier I’ve never spent money on khux either lol the only “money” gone into it was one time my mom gave me a google play store gift card and I used it on my birthday for a VIP xemnas medal which eventually made it to regular pulls anyway but it was nice and a little treat :)

I’m not a gacha fan, I don’t care for it, so I don’t think I’ll be touching another gacha again. But for kh? This was pretty fucking awesome, even if it sucked a lot sometimes LOL It was worth it for the people I’ve met most of all I think. I would honestly be a completely different person without khux and that’s REALLY insane to think about.

[soulmate-game]

IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOU GUYS HAVE ADOPTED ME. THIS IS MY REBELLION (thanks)

Now, a proper introduction to this story:

—*—*—*—*—*

“I do not see why we all had to come,” Damian groused, hands shoved into his pockets. Bruce had decided to set up a new branch of Wayne Enterprises in Paris, and apparently that required him and all his sons to come with him on a weeklong trip to scout out the perfect location from a set of possibilities and start networking. Selina and the girls had decided to allow all the boys the much needed vacation, taking over Gotham-sitting in their absence. There were the Zeta Tubes in Paris if all else failed anyway.

(The girls only made this deal with the agreement that they would get their own, twice as long vacation to some tropical island once they got back).

Bruce straightened out his suit. “This trip serves two purposes at once, Damian,” he started to tell his youngest in what all his sons dubbed the Lecture Voice. “Obviously, the public reason is setting up WE’s new headquarters here. The real reason, however, is that Diana is bad at keeping secrets for long periods of time.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jason asked, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he still had absolutely no idea how he managed to get roped into this shit. He didn’t want to be in Paris, let alone on a trip alone with his ‘family.’

Bruce hummed for a moment, looking around to make sure nobody was listening to the foreigners speaking in soft English. Nobody was. They continued walking down the street, but Bruce was careful to keep his voice low regardless. “Clark mentioned something about Lois wanting to visit a reporter friend of hers here in Paris, and Diana immediately changed the subject. What with her having worked at the Louvre in the past, Clark had wanted her feedback on the best places to take Lois to eat. Diana nearly exploded from how badly she was trying to steer the conversation as far away from Paris as possible.”

“You think she’s hiding something from the League?” Tim asked, eyebrows furrowed. He was the least upset about this whole thing, since he would have been forced to come on the trip anyway as WE’s COO. “That doesn’t seem like her thing.”

“It isn’t,” Bruce agreed. “Unless she felt honor bound to keep a secret. And if Diana of all people feels honor bound to keep a secret…”

“Then it’s big,” Dick finished with a nod. “She probably has a contact or friend here who convinced her to keep something away from the League. So you brought us all here to figure it out, then?”

“I had Barbara look into things on the Computer, but she didn’t turn up as much as we expected. Apparently something is messing with the electronic signals leaving Paris, hardly any information leaves this city on any electronic waves at all unless it’s specifically meant to, like business emails or political business. Local shows and news, any small time websites or blogs, all of those sorts of things are suddenly mysteriously inaccessible anywhere outside of city limits. Even social media posts.”

Tim frowned. That wasn’t… good.

Their conversation was interrupted by an explosion, followed by the collapse of the Eiffel Tower and the ringing of alarm bells.

“AKUMA ALERT. AKUMA ALERT. EVACUATE TO DESIGNATED SHELTERS. AKUMA ALERT.”

The group of civilian-dressed heroes tensed, looking around to see that the majority of locals seemed rather calm about the whole thing. They were brisk and efficient in evacuating, but not overly panicked. Bruce decided that was a good enough reason to tap a native’s shoulder and ask what was going on. Luckily, he and all his sons were fluent in French so none of them would be left confused.

The citizen they had pulled aside, a blond that Bruce belatedly realized was the mayor’s daughter, blinked up at them as if surprised to be interrupted. Then realization came over her face, making her relax slightly.

“Oh! You are the Waynes, correct? Daddy told me you all would be visiting from Gotham this week,” she turned her head over her shoulder to survey the chaos around them. “This is an Akuma attack. It’s the result of Paris’s own resident nut job super villain. Since you will all be here for the next few days, it’s important for you to know,” she put her hands on her hips and stared the group down as if all of them weren’t half a foot taller than her and much more well built, and ignoring the fact that everyone else around them was fleeing to safety. “Keep your emotions in check. HawkMoth, the villain behind this whole disaster, takes advantage of people’s negative emotions to turn them into temporary super powered villains called Akumas. If you get too angry or sad or even scared, you’re vulnerable to him.”

“Attacks like this happen almost every day, at this point. It’s been going on for three years now. But you shouldn’t have to worry— right on time,” Chloè Bourgeois suddenly smiled smugly as a red and black figure could be seen running across rooftops in a blur. “That’s our primary superhero, Ladybug. Her partner Chat Noir shouldn’t be far behind. As long as we go to a shelter, everything should be fine. The closest one is this way,” she told them, starting to lead the group away.

“Are you not at all worried about the Eiffel Tower?” Dick asked, disbelief clear in his tone even as he and his family followed the teenager. “Isn’t that a massive source of tourism for this place?”

Chloè snorted, waving her hand dismissively. “Please. The Eiffel Tower gets destroyed every Tuesday, practically. The news station gets ransacked almost every Thursday, and for some reason the Louvre only gets attacked every other Saturday or so. The Seine gets decent action too. Everything will go back to normal as soon as the Akuma is defeated.”

“Normal?” Jason interjected, eyebrows furrowed. “How can the Eiffel Tower suddenly come back from being rubble?”

Chloé laughed, very out of place considering the emptying streets. “That’s because of Ladybug. Her power reverses all the damage from an Akuma attack, as if it never happened in the first place. If we’re caught outside and flattened by a thrown car or giant falling rock? Poof, brought back to life without any injuries once Ladybug beats the Akuma. Drown during an attack? Poof, brought back. Beheaded by a maniac Akuma after revenge? Poof, head back on,” the heiress explained rather crassly.

Her examples were making the men behind her grimmer and grimmer. They came to the girl far too easily to just be made up scenarios.

“Watch out!” An unfamiliar voice called out, a red figure suddenly landing right in front of them before a resounding explosion rocked the whole street. Chloé shrieked, covering her head with her hands. The Waynes braced themselves and did their best to stay upright, getting right back up as quickly as possible when that failed.

When the dust cleared, it revealed the woman they had briefly caught a glimpse at before. Ladybug. True to form, she was dressed in red with black spots, though it looked as if her skin tight uniform wouldn’t offer much protection. In front of her was a slightly transparent pink shield which—oh. Nope. That was a shield she made by swinging a yo-yo.

An honest-to-Batman YO-YO was her main weapon, and it apparently could create magical shields to deflect explosives.

“Chloe! What have I told you about getting to a shelter as soon as possible?” The heroine shouted at the blonde heiress, who just pointed at the men she had been leading.

“I was! But I ran into tourists who had no idea what to do, I was trying to get all of us to a shelter!” The blond defended herself, before her eyes widened and her pointing finger moved. “Behind you!”

Ladybug turned a bit, but didn’t seem surprised at all when a black blur came out of seemingly nowhere and knocked into the floating villain dressed in gaudy oranges and yellows, knocking the Akuma’s aim off track. The explosion that the villain had meant for Ladybug and the civilians she was protecting hit the side of the road instead, hurting nothing but concrete.

“You were almost late, Chaton,” Ladybug called to the figure dressed in black, her voice teasing and eyes amused. The figure batted the Akuma away on buy time before jogging over, revealing a blond boy in a distressingly leather costume that was far too similar to Catwoman’s for any of the Gotham males to be comfortable with.

“Not my fault you took off ahead of me, Milady!” He shot right back, just as teasingly.

“Graaaaaah!” The Akuma, Explosion, pushed himself back up to his feet and glared at the heroes. “Die, die, die! You want to laugh at me, you want to say how I’ve ‘blown up,’ I’ll blow YOU up! See how you like it!”

“Their dialogue never gets any better,” Chaton, who the Gotham boys guessed was the Chat Noir that Chloé has mentioned, quipped as he spun a bo staff in his hands lazily. “Milady?”

Ladybug nodded. “The Akuma is in their belt. We’re gonna have to get up close for this one,” she remarked, getting her yo-yo ready to call on Lucky Charm. But, before she got a chance to, a blur ran out from behind her and tackled the super villain. “No!”

Ladybug immediately ran over, not caring that the green eyed boy was an amazing fighter and managed to grapple the Akuma to the ground in seconds. Power flowed into the Akuma’s gloved hands, and Ladybug was barely able to pull the civilian away before he got blasted.

“Don’t tackle a magically powered villain, what are you thinking?!” She yelled at him, grabbing the boy into a princess hold and jumping back as Explosion tried to hit them. She ignored the boy’s protests and attempts to escape her grip, dodging around every punch and kick. Her eyes strayed to the side, and the heroine suddenly smirked.

“Chat noir! Now!”

Her partner lunged, using Explosion’s distraction to use Cataclysm on the guy’s belt. Ladybug released Damian’s legs so she could purify the butterfly, one-handedly swinging her yo-yo with barely any effort. After a few seconds the cure was cast, and the damage reversed. The red clad heroine looked over at her partner and Chloé, her mouth straightening into a frown.

“Chloé, can you get the victim to calm down and try to sort out the whole issue surrounding the video that was posted without his consent? Chat, go ahead and go. I got this sorted out.”

Ladybug didn’t wait for a response, turning her head to lock gazes with Bruce, who was clearly the oldest of her group of tourists and the one in charge. “Follow me, monsieur,” she said curtly, turning and half-dragging Damian with her by the arm. She waited until they reached an alleyway that would keep any of them from being easily noticed. She didn’t want anyone to catch this confrontation on camera.

“I understand you are new to Paris,” she said softly, her voice hard as she released her hold on the teen and swept her eyes over everyone he was with. “But this is not a game. You do not tackle an Akuma unless you have a nearly indestructible suit on and the powers to combat one, do you understand me?”

“I thought you could bring the dead back to life?” Another male said, his blue eyes sharp her his fluffy black hair. “Tim Drake, by the way.”

Ladybug nodded. “I can. But that doesn’t mean I want anyone injured or dead if I can help it. X-rays have shown that even the Cure leaves a few residual marks. If someone drowns and is brought back, their lungs are weaker than before. If someone was smashed by rubble, their x-rays show evidence of the breaks even if they are healed far better than normal time and medical procedures can accomplish. Phantom pains, aches, the damage done by death doesn’t go away just because magic fixed it. Little things remain, even if your memory of the death doesn’t,” she explained sharply. She turned to the green-eyed boy again, making mutual eye contact for the first time.

“Paris is my city. I don’t care how good you are at fighting, you cannot run into a battle like that again. I asked for heroes and vigilantes to be distracted or entirely sent away from coming here to avoid this exact situation and having to fight Akumas I might not be able to handle, and I am not above using my influence to get you deported for the same reasons. Am I understood?”

The boy opened his mouth, but couldn’t get a word out before him and Ladybug’s worlds shifted. Their eye contact sparked something, sending electricity through their bodies and making both of them blink and gasp.

Their point of view was cut in half. Damian found himself staring at Ladybug, but he could also see what could only be Ladybug’s point of view as she stared right back at him.

He raised one eyebrow slowly. Figures his soulmate would be a hero. He couldn’t see how a relationship with a civilian would work for him, though he hardly gave thought to relationships in general. From both her lecture and the way she handled the fight, he knew her to be experienced and professional. The way she held herself alone was enough to garner a spark of respect from him. The fact that the Wayne name didn’t seem to mean much of anything to her also helped.

And not just anybody could grab hold of him that easily and tote him around as he tried to escape their grip.

With a smirk, he held out his hand. Ladybug clearly had no idea that he was a vigilante as well, and he was going to have fun with that.

“My name is Damian Wayne, and apparently Paris is going to become an important city for me as well if you’re my soulmate. I promise not to interfere without your permission from here on.”

Ladybug just swallowed, her eyes wide and… scared? She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

If she didn’t already know that running away would mean he would find out her identity, she would have. But since they could see from each other’s point of view, that was not a good idea.

A few beeps sounded from her earrings, making Ladybug bite her lip.

“Okay. Here’s what’s gonna happen,” she said, ignoring the incredulous stares they were getting from Damian’s family. “I’m gonna go on the other side of this door,” she pointed to the door that she knew was unlocked and a safe place to detransform. “And then we are going to meditate until we can find a way to undo… this,” she gestured to her eyes, indicating the point of view issue.

“And then we can meet on the rooftops tonight, right?” Damian tried, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Ladybug glared at him, knowing what he was doing. He could obviously read that she was going to run away the moment she got the chance, her concern over her identity overruling her desire to know her soulmate. He was trying to make sure she didn’t.

“Fine,” she bit out reluctantly, opening the door in the alleyway and entering the fire exit it led to. She shut the door, allowing herself to detransform. Tikki remained dutifully out of eyeshot. “Meditate. Now,” she barked to the other side of the door.

Kwami, what is my luck?

—*—*—*—*—*

“I hate you so much,” Marinette growled, pouting as she buried her face into Damian’s shoulder. Her boyfriend, her soulmate, just chuckled as he returned her hug. “You were Robin this whole time?”

“Yes, Habibiti,” he said with amusement lacing his tone. It had taken two months and a Wayne-funded weekend trip to Gotham City (for only Marinette) for the girl to put together her boyfriend’s identity.

He had figured out her’s after two weeks.

“In my defense, I didn’t meet Robin until last night and I figured out it was you as soon as I got some sleep,” she defended herself.

“Maybe you would have put it together immediately if you hadn’t stayed up for the past thirty-six hours on a commission,” Damian gently scolded, earning a snort from his girlfriend.

“I’ll sleep when I die. Speaking of die. You owe me a lot of fabric and good food to apologize for keeping this secret before I kill you. I know you only did it to mess with me.”

Damian just laughed, unrepentant. It was true.

“I’ll ask Pennyworth to make your favorites.”

“You better.”

—*—*—*—*—*

[missnxthingg]

hii! i love your fanfics! can i get one for peter where he loses his virginity with the reader and it's just so cute and gentle. maybe ending with him confessing his feelings for the reader. thank you!

Summary: (Y/N) has a sexy dream about Peter while they are sleeping in the same bed and he’s willing to help her out

A/N: I know you love a smuuut! I asked for fluff and I got the whole package. Don’t mind writing these, though. Also, I had some small problems posting it, so I had to post it again. And I found out that my taglist wasn’t working, but I think I solved that. Hope you like it!

Words: 2.5 K (shorty)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Best Friend!Reader

Warnings: Smut, virginity loss, oral (f and m receiving), swearing, and fluff.

masterlist | main blog | gif source | quarantine playlist

DREAMY

Today was a pretty ordinary Friday night for you and your best friend Peter. May wasn’t home for a long time like she usually does on Friday nights, and Peter invited you over to watch a movie and make him some company while she was gone. Also, it was a bonus for both of you since you had a crush on each other and you got to spend a little time alone in the apartment just enjoying each other’s companies, maybe having some good treats while watching the movie.

“Chinese, Tai, Mexican, or pizza?” Peter asked while going through his phone food app to find something for them to eat.

“I don’t know, I’m kinda stuffed. Ate too many cookies, whatever.” He chuckled and put his phone away.

“Okay, if we get hungry we can always make a sandwich.” You nodded and got up to go to his bedroom.

“Can I borrow something to wear?” She asked already looking for something in his closet.

“Ever since you found that my clothes are comfier, you never brought pajamas again.”

“Of course. I sleep better when I’m wearing bad science jokes shirts and sweats twice my size.” She laughed and started to strip down her own clothes.

“I’m never throwing you in the lake again while you’re wearing your pajamas.” He joked, remembering the first time she borrowed his clothes, it was during the school’s summer camp on the last vacation.

“God, I don’t even want to remember that camping trip. It was pretty bad.”

“Come on, it wasn’t so bad. We had a great time with our friends.” He started and you came back to sit with him. “We went swimming at the lake, had a good singing during the fire and we played ‘Never Have I Ever’ during the lights out.”

“That game was the worst part! I lied during the whole damn thing because I was too embarrassed that everyone did a lot of things and I never did anything.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked and you started to blush.

“I never had sex before, or even something remotely similar to that. Nothing, only kissed. But even MJ has done it.” You wiped some sweat from your forehead and Peter started to blush too.

“T-to be honest, I-I’ve never done it either.” He confessed looking down to the floor. “Nobody even finds me interesting to do anything like that anyway.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing Pete! One of the best I’ve ever met. I pick my best friends very well.” 

Best friend, of course -  he thought. “Anyway. May said to not wait up because she was going to spend all night at work, and when she says that, she normally arrives when the sun has already risen.”

“Uhm, I’m tired. Can we go to sleep?” You yawned and he nodded.

“Of course. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll lock the apartment and everything.” You nodded and went ahead to take the side of the bed you wanted. Peter came back quickly and lied next to you, getting comfortable.

“Wanna cuddle?” You asked, opening your arms when he came into the room.

“Sure, I’d love that.” Peter closed the door and turned off the light, coming to you in bed and you threw your arms around him, pulling him closer to get comfortable. “Good night, pumpkin head.”

“Good night, dork.”

So you fell into a deep sleep next to your best friend. Suddenly you were back in that summer camp, wearing your pretty white dress, walking barefoot on the grass, rushing to the lake like someone was about to catch you until someone did, throwing you down to the floor and letting their weight over you while you two rolled down to the river. It was night, so you could barely see all around you, but of course, you knew who was over you. You always knew when it was Peter. He smiled widely but didn’t say a word. Instead, he lowered himself in your body and suddenly you felt a little pressure on your clit like someone was licking it.

“Uhm, fuck Pete.” You moaned, feeling his movements down there.

“(Y/N). You okay?” At first, you thought it was only on your dream, but suddenly you were back in your room. Gasping, almost breathless, heart racing, clearly wet pussy, and a pair of concerned brown eyes looking at you.

“What?” You asked confused and he licked his lips.

“You were…unquiet.” He started to blush and luckily you couldn’t see it because of the dark.

“I had a dream.” You stated and he nodded, encouraging to go on. 

“Uhm, why were you moaning my name?” He asked and your eyes widened. “It’s okay, it’s me. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It was a sex dream.” You said and he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh. With me?” He asked and you nodded. “Was it a good one?”

“I’m not answering that.” You laughed nervously and he lit up the lamp in his room.

“Come on, at least I need to know if I was good.”

“Yeah, you were pretty good.” You grinned and he leaned back in the headboard. “I mean…” You looked down at your body and arched your brows.

“Oh, you’re… Okay, yeah.” His breathing changed and it was the most uncomfortable situation between the two of you. “D-do you want me to help out?”

“What?” Your eyes widened and his cheeks were burning like hell.

“I mean, we’re alone and I’ve always wanted to… you know.”

“Eat me out?” You asked a little confused.

“I-I mean it didn’t have to exactly be you, but… Y-yeah, you.” He started to get a little more confident and she softly smiled. You leaned in and left a small peck on his lips, making him space out for a couple of seconds. “(Y/N), can I eat you out?”

“When you ask me so gently I can’t resist.” You both chuckled and started to go down on you. “Hey, straight to business. C’mere.” You pulled him up again and kissed him, for real this time.

He positioned himself between your legs and you pulled him down with your hands on his hair. He licked your lips and asked for permission to deep in the kiss, which you allowed. You were finally making out like you always dreamed of. You started to slowly hump him as the kiss continued and soon you could feel his hardness against your core.

"We're making out." He mumbled between kisses.

"I know, that's so hot." You mumbled back and he started to go down on your body, stopping at your legs.

"Can I take these off?" He pointed to the pants and you nodded. Peter slowly removed his pants from your body.

"Uhm, Peter I need you." You moaned and he gently pulled your panties down, showing you soaking pussy.

"This is all because of the dream? Oh my God, I must have been really good then." He stared at you all opened up for him and paused. "Uhm, I don't know what to do. Maybe you can guide me?"

You used your fingers to show him your clit and he paid attention to every single word you were saying and what you were showing him. First, you started to rub circles on your clit to show him and it felt really good, and second, you slipped a finger in and couldn't even finish your presentation, he already was using his thumb to draw circles on your clit just like you taught him while you pumped your finger inside you.

"That's so hot." He whispered under his breath and removed your finger from inside you. He kissed your inner thighs and started with his tongue on your folds. "You're so pretty."

"Much better than the d-dream. Fuck!" You threw your head back and he used his hands to pull your legs over his shoulders, making you more comfortable and giving him more access to your pussy. His hands searched yours and you entwined your fingers, sometimes slightly pressing it a little harder in pleasure. "Uhm, fuck me, this feels so good."

Peter was gentle and for an inexperienced boy, he sure knew what he was doing, cause it was sending you over the clouds just like that. You arched your back and felt a knot on your stomach and you were begging for release, something that only happened once with your own fingers.

"Peter, baby. Shit… Oh, I'm gonna cum." He started to go faster and it sent you over the edge, cumming all over his mouth.

When he came up from between your legs, he was soaked with your juice, a red face and a beautiful afterglow. You could just stare at him like that all night and it would be enough to get you off. He wiped his mouth and grinned shyly.

"Did you like it?" He asked and you nodded, still trying to recover your breath.

"I don't think I would have cum if I didn't like it." He smiled and looked down to his crotch, hard as fuck, struggling to keep inside his pants. "I can help you with that."

"It's okay, I can go to the bathroom and take care of this."

"Actually, I was thinking about doing something more fun, if you're up to it."

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows and you removed your shirt. "Oh, you wanna do that?"

"If it's okay for you."

"N-no, totally okay. I want to lose it if it's with you." He blushed and you kissed him to reassure him that you want it to, taking the opportunity to take his hands and take it to your boobs.

"Me too." You said between kisses and you pulled his shirt off, making his beautiful body be now exposed to the world. He removed his pants along with his underwear, revealing his hard cock and making you drill. "Uhm, can I suck you off?"

"Y-you don't have to do this."

"Pretty please, I really want to."

"O-okay." 

You turned him to bed and went down on him, resting your body between his legs and swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock. He moaned under his breath and you started to run your tongue through its length.

"Uhm, you're so big." You started to bob your head up and down, stroking what couldn't fit inside it and it made Peter go crazy. His cock hitting the back of your throat made him feel like he wasn't going to last long.

"Oh my God, angel. Your mouth feels so good." He gathered all your head with one hand and helped you gently go down on him. "Okay, you might need to stop it if you wanna keep going." 

You stopped with a pop on the tip, making him moan and his cock twitch. You lied next to him and waited until he got back to his senses.

"Are we really going to do this?"

"I guess so."

"Okay, if we're doing this, I need to confess something to you. I really like you Pete, more than just friends."

"Oh thank God." You frowned and he gently kissed you on the lips with a smile on his lips. "I really like you too."

"Now please fuck me. I need you, big boy."

"Hang on, let me get some condoms." He rushed to his closet and got some condoms from a box buried deep inside it. He opened one and rolled it out his hard cock. "Okay, I think we're safe to go."

You pulled him for another kiss and you just lied there making out a little more, your hands exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. You and Peter were intimate, but you never felt more intimate with him then now and you were enjoying it a lot.

"Are you sure you wanna do it?" He asked and you nodded with a smile.

"Yes. I'm very sure. Please." 

He stuck the tip inside you and slowly entered you. First, it hurt like hell and he was stretching you really good. You gripped hardly on his back and almost bit his shoulder, also you were pretty sure there were a couple of tears.

"Does it hurt?" You nodded. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, just gimme some time." You said under your breath and suddenly the sensation started to feel kinda good. "I think it's okay to go."

He started with slow thrusts, filled with a lot of kisses to ease the pain. You locked your hips together by involving his waist with your legs and guiding his movements. Even though it hurt, it was really good. Peter was taking such good care of you and always searching for ways to comfort you, giving you soft kisses and all the love he could.

"Uhm, I think you can go faster." You said between kisses and he nodded.

"Are you sure it won't hurt you?"

"Yes, just… fuck me." 

"Safeword is spider, okay?" He mumbled in your ear and you nodded. He started to make faster movements and you started to moan louder, just along with him.

"Rub my clit." You said between moans and he leaned a little back and started to rub it, making you roll your eyes. "Yeah, like that. Fuck! I think you found the spot."

"You're gonna cum again?" He asked and you could only nod between moans, opening your legs even more to give him more access. "Fuck, okay. I'm close too. Damn  baby, you're so good around me, so wet, so pretty."

"Fuck, Pete. I'm coming." He quickened his pace and soon that knot on your stomach came back.

"Come on, I'm almost there, stay with me." But you couldn't, cumming all over his cock before the did, with only led you to be overstimulated by him until he came.

He got up to go to the bathroom and throw the condom away and to get a towel to clean you both up.  He removed the trash before May found a filled condom when she got home and hid it in his closet, he could get rid of it later. You lied in his bed with your own afterglow, still feeling very sensitive. Peter cleaned you up gently and lied back with you, giving you some more kisses all over your face before pulling you over his lap to rest your head on his chest.

"Hey. You okay?" He asked and she nodded with a smile.

"Just found out that I'm very sensitive." You buried your nose on his chest and he held you tighter. You were both still naked, but suddenly it didn't matter for you both, you were more intimate than ever. 

"(Y/N), I don't want it to just be… it. You said you liked me and I was wondering if we could go out sometime."

"I think we're way past the dating line." You giggled and he started to rub circles on your face.

"I know, but I really wanna do this right." He entwined your fingers and you leaned up to kiss him again.

"Okay, it's a date."

"Come on, let's put on some clothes." He suggested and you smirked.

"Or we can do this again." His eyes filled with lust and you were pretty sure you felt something poking your ass.

"Okay, let's do this."

"Me on top this time, okay?" He nodded and you kissed him again.

"I think I'm gonna like having a girlfriend."

…………………

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[hbogirl1998]

CASE OF: AKIA EGGLESTON: PREGNANT AND MISSING, ENDANGERED, FOUL PLAY? FINAL THOUGHTS.

Hi, guys I’m back, and unfortunately, this is my last blog. Today, I want to cover the case of Akia Eggleston. Akia, who was 22 at the time of her disappearance, and 8 months pregnant, and has still yet to be found. At the time of her disappearance, Eggleston lived in Cherry Hill, Baltimore and was already a mother to a 2-year-old little girl. The last time Akia was seen was on May 3rd, 2017, and reported missing when she did not show up to her baby shower on May 7th. Friends and family knew Akia had been planning this shower for months, she wouldn’t miss it for the world. One thing I would like to note was that Akia was put on bed rest for her pregnancy, all those close to her knew she couldn’t move around well or participate in anything too physically asserting. Initially when she was reported missing, police searched her apartment and it seemed as if she had moved out, but those around her knew this wasn’t possible given her current health condition. Akia’s friends and family not only knew this was physically impossible, but knew she wouldn’t just leave her 2-year-old daughter abandoned. The father of Akia’s unborn child never showed up to the baby shower, placing him under suspicion of the family, yet he was never labeled as a person of interested or investigated to this day. The exact date of Akia’s disappearance is unknown, but it is believed to be May 3rd, 2017. The suspicious circumstances can’t help but have me wonder if Akia was yet another young black individual labeled as a “runaway”, or “leaving on her own” by police and her community, but we may never know, despite us knowing her physical condition. I hope and pray this wasn’t a label this missing young woman was given. What I do know is that in the first few months of Akia missing, there was only 3 articles about her disappearance, and nonewere national news articles, making it difficult to expand the search for the young mother.

Within a year of Akia’s disappearance, she had only been mentioned in national new articles twice, and one of those articles being grouped together with others. It is sad to know that if this was a young, missing, pregnant white woman, it would be worldwide news. There is little to no information out there about her disappearance, which is also true to her family. In fact, on July 31st, 2019, Akia’s family was invited onto “The View” to talk about Akia’s case. This appearance has Akia’s step father on the record stating, “Yes, we have spoken, and yes, we have met. But when the time that you speak with the individual in such a matter as this is... maybe once, every three, four, five months, you call them to speak to them and you have no response, and you have to go to the level of contacting your congressman, who contacts the mayor, who contacts the assistant, who contacts the chief of police, who then contacts the head of the FBI from the Baltimore division- it’s a crazy process” (Shawn Wilkinson, The View). This is the sad reality of black families and their missing loved ones, hard to read about this knowing Akia’s stepfather has to go to these lengths to simply get a reply or information about his still missing daughter, and grandchild. It is stated while on the show by cohost Sunny Hostin that their (police department’s) “level of communication is not to the expectations of the family” (The View). Akia’s stepfather goes on the record saying, “her story never got outside Baltimore” in 2019, previous to his interview on “The View”. This is the reality that I have seen across a few of my cases, that in this nature the police departments give the bare minimum communication, not the effective communication that these families and friends deserve. And, the obvious commonality across all of my cases, there has been very little news coverage, and we know if the roles were reversed in terms of race, the picture would be very different. We can however, see hope at the end, because coverage on Akia’s case gained more media traction after her stepfather’s appearance on “The View”. I hope to be able to have this post shared so that Akia and her child may have a voice, the potential to be found. This coming May will be 3 years since Akia Eggleston’s disappearance, and I hope that there is active effort being taken. I will attach images and demographics for Eggleston below.

Throughout the course of this semester I’ve had the opportunity to write about missing persons of all ages, specifically African American women and children. I’ve covered cases that depict unequal media coverage, police mishandling, unsolved mysteries, and exactly how African American individuals are mislabeled and openly disrespected whether that be by their community, or local and state law enforcement. It has been extremely eye opening, while also extremely saddening to tell these stories of individuals who seemed to never have a chance of being found. While I was happy to try to bring unheard voices into the light, it has been emotionally difficult to research and write about these cases when I know why it is the way that it is in our country.

I want to talk about how over the course of the semester, it has not only been emotionally difficult to research, but logically as well. It has been extremely difficult to find news stories, coverage and content on these cases, and not only these cases, but missing African American cases in general. It is not me thinking that there aren’t many more African Americans missing in this country, it’s the fact that I know there are so many more missing individuals and I couldn’t find news or coverage to be able to write the blogs. I mean, some of these cases have 5 or less stories on them. It has been challenging to find the content to be able to bring voices to these people simply because the information and news is notout there for people to see, it’s not out there for people to be aware. Which brings me to my reason for writing the blogs, to be able to bring voices to those unheard.

I knew going into this blog that minorities were not equally represented and covered within the media, and I obviously knew police bias towards certain groups of people. But, I had no idea the extent of the little media coverage that there was, I mean many of these cases I really had to dig for information. I really, really had to dig to find the proper information to represent these individuals respectfully and accurately. I also learned police bias doesn’t manifest in only violence towards these groups of people, it manifests in the lack of care and empathy for these missing persons, and the blatant labeling of African Americans as “runaways” and “leaving on their own”, in contrast to their white counterparts. I have noticed the lack of communication between police and the grieving families, something that we all know simply does not happen with non-minority families. It’s difficult to watch these cases come and go with no answers, continuously under the same circumstances. I hope I have been part of the solution to be able to bring voices and coverage in the best way I know how, and call out the inequality themes I have seen. Thank you for following my blogs for the semester, and I hope this becomes one little step in a long process of work that needs to be done.

Here are Akia Eggleston’s demographics and pictures: 

Source: ABC NEWS

[starker-stories]

Long Lenses

It’s been awhile since I posted something new & original. This has been sitting forgotten in my WIPs for a bit. Lost it, found it, posting it.

Also on AO3

If you like what I write, may I recommend subscribing to my feed? After having lost my blog to my own idiocy, I kinda have a distrust of tumblr. I’ve had other issues here with things just disappearing for no reason. Plus when tumblr (or I) mess up, anything below a readmore disappears. So AO3 is the best place to read my stuff. It’s ALL there, long or short. 

Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Quentin Beck, May Parker (Spider-Man) Additional Tags: Cheating, College Student Peter Parker, Closeted Character, Arguing, Happy Ending, Manipulation, Closeted Tony Stark, Press and Tabloids, Secret Relationship, Homophobic Language, used only once, Outing, Offscreen Pepper Potts, Cheating isn't Starker

Summary:  “You’d much rather give the world the image of a happily married heterosexual man than to have the world know that you just go through the motions with her and are secretly as gay as I am,” Peter said bitterly. -------------------------------------------------------------------

“Stay,” Peter said, lying in bed still long before dawn on Sunday morning. He watched Tony dress.

“You know I can’t.” Tony made sure that his suit was appropriately rumpled, his shirt pulled out on one side, his tie askew. He took a drink, rinsed his mouth with the strong scotch. Sloshed a little out of the glass onto his shirt to make the picture believable.

“Stay.” Peter reached out his hand. Tony bent over and kissed Peter, who frowned. “I hate it when you smell like that. Almost as much as I hate the way you smell on Saturday afternoon when you get here. I don’t know what’s worse, watching you pretend to be a drunk or having you smell like her.”

“Peter, you knew the terms when you said yes.”

“And I knew the terms when you said you were going to leave her. When’s that gonna happen, huh?”

Tony sighed. “I hate it when you wake up.”

“You’d rather just sneak out and leave me to wake up to an empty bed,” Peter said angrily.

“Look, she knows I go out with friends on Saturday night. She hates it and gives me hell for it, but I’m here every single Saturday. I have ‘business meetings’ scheduled every Wednesday. Which, since she’s still my PA, she knows I don’t.”

“After which you’re always out the door before ten.”

“Peter, if you don’t like it, I just won’t do it anymore, okay?”

“I’m that fucking inconsequential to you?”

“You know that’s not true. I love you.”

“Not enough to leave her.”

“Things are complicated.”

“Of course they are. You’d much rather give the world the image of a happily married heterosexual man than to have the world know that you just go through the motions with her and are secretly as gay as I am,” Peter said bitterly.

Tony sighed and headed for the door. “Whatever Peter.”

Before the door shut, with a tear strained voice, “Will I see you Wednesday?”

His answer was a closed door.

It didn’t stop him from fixing dinner for two after his last class on Wednesday afternoon. Or waiting nervously to see if the door to the apartment Tony paid for would open by Tony’s key. Almost two hours late, it did.

Tony leaned over and gave Peter a peck on the cheek. “Sorry. I tried to get out as soon as I could, but things ran long.”

He always smelled like her on Wednesdays but this time her perfume was stronger than normal. “It’s okay. I just turned the lasagna down when I noticed you were running late.”

Tony sat at the kitchenette table and watched as Peter laid the dinner. “How was class? Professor Martinez still giving you a hard time?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Peter smiled as Tony poured the wine for both of them. “I thought I’d take fifteen hours next semester instead of twelve. Other than physics, the rest is a breeze. I can handle more work.” He paused. “Is that going to be okay? It’s going to cost more.”

“If you think you can handle the course load, you know I have no problem with that, baby. I want you to get whatever you can out of school. Fifteen hours a semester? And if you take summer courses, you can graduate in three years.”

Peter laughed. “One more than it took you.”

“Yeah baby, but I got all my prereqs done while I was in high school. You had to trudge through all that last year.”

“I just didn’t want to take summer classes, that’s all. You mentioned something about a yacht,” Peter said teasingly.

“Yeah, well…”

Peter tried to hide his disappointment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just that the press… every time I take the boat out, they’re out there with their long lenses. Fuck, last time they caught me and Pep nude sunbathing with a drone.”

Peter’s lips drew into a sharp line. He’d seen those pictures of course. Nude sunbathing wasn’t the half of what they’d caught. “Summer classes are fine,” he said tersely.

“I’m sorry baby.” Tony reached his hand across the table and took Peter’s in it.

Peter shrugged. “It is what it is, right?”

“I was thinking…” Tony smiled. “I’d take a hell of a hit in the prenup, but if she caught me with another woman… We still couldn’t be public, but as a single man I’d have a lot more time to spend with you.”

Peter brightened. “You’d do that?”

“Pretty sure she already suspects something. It wouldn’t be hard to convince her. To have some ‘well meaning’ friend of hers catch me with a girlfriend and tell her.”

“Then I’d just have to share you with your girlfriend. There’d have to be one, right?”

“Just for show.”

“Why can’t it just be us? No one would care.”

“I still do business in a lot of parts of the world where they do care.”

“I’ll never have you to myself, will I?”

“You’ll always be the only one who I love. Why do we have to fight? I get to see you so little, I hate to spend it fighting.”

Peter smiled. “I can think of much better ways to spend the next two hours.”

~~~~~

It wasn’t difficult to make a device to disguise his voice. Finding a payphone in a New York suburb was harder, but he hacked into the phone company’s computer and got a list of every functional payphone within twenty miles of a train stop. Getting there untraceably was another challenge. But trains were anonymous and cab drivers even more so when you behaved normally without anything odd to set you apart from dozens of other fares. The phone was a lot closer to the train station than he thought, so he decided that after his call, he’d just walk back there. Even more anonymous.

Finding a reporter with a grudge against Tony Stark wasn’t hard at all. Finding one who had the clout to push a controversial story past frightened editors narrowed the field down to one, Quentin Beck.

“Mr. Beck? I’ve got some news about Tony Stark you might be interested in.”

“I doubt it. I’d need sources and those dry up as soon as Stark starts throwing his money around.”

“He’s having an affair.”

“I thought you said news. Everyone knows that he cheats on his wife.”

“With another man?” Peter added.

“You have my attention. That’s a hell of an accusation. I’ll need details and undeniable proof.”

“Details I can give you. Proof, you’ll have to get on your own.”

“Details then,” Beck said tersely.

“They meet every week.”

“How do you know this?”

“I see him go in. I know who lives there.”

“How do you know that he’s not seeing a woman there? Because like I said, that’s no news at all.”

“The women living in that building are either old or with kids,” Peter expected Beck to take the bait sooner than that. He was having to improvise.

“Lotta women with kids screw around.”

“The only man living in that building is a queer. Stark’s gotta be at least twice his age. It’s sick.” It hurt Peter to have to refer to both of them like that, but Beck was still resisting.

“Address?”

Peter gave him the address of the building he lived in. “He’s there every Saturday. I don’t know if there’s any other time. I’ve seen him go in. My shift ends at two and I’ve never seen him come out, so he stays until after that.” There were three different all night businesses on the same block as his apartment. It wasn’t unbelievable that someone in one of them could’ve seen Tony go into his building.

“Who are you? So I can credit you.”

Peter laughed. “I’m not losing my job over this.”

“So you’re just a concerned citizen.”

“Yep. I don’t like perverts passing themselves off as good married men.”

~~~~~

It was easy for Peter to take the intercom in his apartment apart and disconnect the buzzer to let Tony in on Saturday afternoon.

“Something’s wrong with my door thing.” Peter explained as he came down to the door. He was barefoot and wearing shorts so short they were barely covered by the hem of his t-shirt. “I can hear the doorbell ring, but I can’t buzz anyone in. My pizza last night was almost sent back. Fortunately the delivery guy phoned me.” He leaned up and gave Tony a quick peck on the cheek as he shut the glass lobby door behind him.

“Glad to see you’re in a better mood tonight.” Tony smiled and caught Peter by the waist returning his peck with a more substantial kiss.

“I get to have you in my bed all night, of course I’m in a better mood.” Peter smiled, took Tony’s hand and led him up the stairs to his apartment which was over a block of small shops.

There was no arguing, no demands, no pouting. Peter had no idea if Beck actually took his tip seriously or not. But it was a last ditch effort to finally have Tony be his. Tony would never know how Quentin Beck got his information. He was one of the reporters who dogged him ceaselessly and one he hadn’t been able to control. Peter was fairly certain that Tony would believe it was just bad luck and Beck following him trying to get dirt on something else.

Upstairs, Tony took apart Peter’s intercom and found the singed wire he made to look like an ordinary short.

“Thank you. It’s so hard to get the super up to do anything around here. I’m not complaining. It’s a nice apartment, close to school, and right on the subway, so it’s perfect. But you know… they try to get away with doing as little work as possible.”

Tony laughed. “I should buy the building.”

“It’s a little down market for you, don’t you think?”

~~~~~

It was one of the best Saturday nights they’d had in a long time. Especially since Peter pretended to be very hard asleep when Tony got up to leave. He grumbled a little and turned over but then drifted (or seemed to) right back off.

Now all he had to do was wait for the papers. It was probably too late to make it into Sunday’s but Monday morning? Peter didn’t buy a copy. He didn’t want the evidence lying around his apartment. But the library at school had subscriptions to every New York paper. It wasn’t in the paper Beck worked for. Peter was about to give up, disappointed that his scheming came to nothing. Then he saw the tabloid. It didn’t have a byline for Quentin Beck, just ‘staff’. Peter supposed that when his editor shot him down, Beck decided that a paycheck was worth more than a byline.

The pictures were remarkably clear. Peter winced at seeing how clear his face was in addition to Tony’s. He winced harder when he read the article and found out that either Beck or the tabloid’s staff had discovered his name from the apartment’s records. And even worse, they had copies of checks from Tony’s private account that showed he paid Peter’s rent.

He ran home from the school library. There were reporters outside his door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I forgot my chemistry text. I need to get back before my next class. Why are you here? Let me through! Don’t touch me!” He twisted out of the reporter’s grasp. He was shaking so hard he couldn’t get his key to work. They were shouting questions at him and cameras were going off around him. Three tries later, he was inside the lobby where reporters weren’t allowed to go. He didn’t wait for the elevator but ran up the stairs. He pulled the curtains shut and curled up in the middle of the bed, crying. 

Clearly, he had not thought this through. He had grossly miscalculated and he regretted his decision tremendously. Instead of doing something to assure him of finally having Tony all to himself, he might have driven him away permanently.

Peter sat staring at his phone, hoping Tony would call. It rang often, but he didn’t answer. Tony had a special ringtone. All other calls, even from his friends, he rejected. Tony didn’t call. Peter imagined he was busy trying to put out the fires on his end. After a few hours, he tried to call Tony. It rang once and then went straight to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message. He waited another hour to the same results. The next call, two hours later, he left a voicemail.

“Tony, I’m scared. They’re outside my door. I… I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I’m locked in and I’m alone and I don’t know what’s going on.” He was crying. “What happened, Tony? Please call me back. Please. I know… I know things have to be bad for you too. But I’m scared, Tony. I’m scared.” 

Not only might he lose Tony, but his whole life was about to be ruined. If they had the rent checks, they would find other things too. Like his school schedule. Like the fact that Tony was paying his tuition. That he’d set up an account for Peter to pay for groceries and books and other little things. Oh god, they might even find out his aunt’s name and number.

“May? Has anyone… Have you…” Peter was sobbing.

“Peter, what’s going on? I went to work and my friend showed me the paper. You and Tony Stark? Is that true? I know they can make pictures up to look like whatever they want.”

“It’s true. It was a secret. It was supposed to stay a secret. I don’t know how they found out. They’re outside my door. I could barely get into my apartment building.”

“He’s married, Peter. How could you!”

“He said he was going to leave her. He said he loved me.”

May sighed. “Sweetie, they don’t ever leave their wives, you know that. Men like Tony Stark… he buys and sells people like they were nothing.”

“He isn’t like that, May. He… he was going to leave her. He had a plan and everything. It was just going to take time. He loves me and I love him.” He sniffled and tried to stop crying. “Are you okay? They haven’t bothered you, have they?”

“I’ve had some calls but I hung up on them. But no one’s been here at the apartment though. Not like your place. The internet has the story already. I saw your picture trying to get into your building.” She paused. “Is it true he pays for your rent?”

“Y-y-yeah.” He was sniffling again. “And my tuition and everything else.”

“So you don’t have a job like you told me.”

“I used to. When I told you, I was an intern at Stark Industries, that was true. But it only lasted a few months before Tony and I… I’m sorry May. I didn’t want to lie to you, but it had to be a secret. He couldn’t have anyone knowing.” He started crying again. “Now everybody knows. And he isn’t calling me back.”

“Peter, even if everything you said is true, that he loves you and was going to leave his wife, he can’t call you right now. If… I don’t even know how to explain this to you… you’re young. You don’t know what it’s like to be married.”

“Not you and Ben… that never happened between you, did it?” Peter sounded afraid.

“No, no. Neither of us were like that. But you hear about it from friends. There are friends I have at the hospital whose husbands cheated on them. It’s… messy. It’s complicated. And that’s without being famous and the press hounding them all the time. This can’t be easy for his wife. Think about her. I don’t mean to be harsh, sweetie, but you just ruined her life.”

“I’m not the first affair he’s had,” Peter said defensively.

“But you’re the one he got caught with. And the only man.”

“Not even that.”

“Okay. But you’re the one she can’t deny or push under the carpet or pretend she doesn’t know about.”

“I don’t care about her,” Peter said angrily.

“That’s obvious,” May said, with a little anger of her own.

“It’s not my fault.”

“Whose is it? You knew he was married. The whole world knows he’s married. Sure, it took both of you, but you didn’t have to say yes. How long has this been going on?”

“About a year and a half.”

“Peter!”

“We’re in love. He doesn’t love her. He hasn’t loved her for a long time. Even before me.”

“I can believe that man has no morals, but you? I thought…”

“I’m in love with him,” Peter interrupted her. “That’s all I know. I’m in love with him.” Peter was sobbing. “You don’t know him like I do. Nobody does. He’s different when he’s with me.”

“Well, I’m not going to talk to anyone about it. I didn’t know anything and obviously, I still don’t know anything. I thought I knew you but…”

“You do. You just don’t get it. We fell in love. That’s not something you can control.”

“But you can control acting on it. I’m sorry you’re in the mess you’re in, but it’s a mess you made for yourself. You have to think of the other people whose lives you ruined by choosing to sleep with a married man.”

~~~~~

It was after midnight before Tony’s ringtone played on Peter’s phone. “Tony?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah baby. I’m so sorry. I should’ve known… I never meant for you to be caught up in this. The damn fucking reporters follow me everywhere.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. Like was going to happen with my plan, I’m gonna take a hell of a hit to the pocket by the prenup. She insisted on a cheating clause, knowing my lack of ability to keep it in my pants. But she never would’ve pulled that trigger unless something went public.”

“But you can manage that, right?”

“It’s not gonna send me to the poorhouse, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not. You know I don’t love you for your money. I hope you do.”

“I know baby. Bad joke. Sorry.”

“Are you still at home?”

“Nope. I mean, it’s still going to be my home once the separation’s over and done with. The building belongs to the company and the company belongs to me. I’ll need to buy out her share of the penthouse, but that’s not a problem. It was just prudent that I be the one to leave right now. Give her time to cool down, let the lawyers hash things out.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d call.” He paused. “Ever.”

“Really? Doubt me that much?”

Peter sighed heavily. “Things don’t usually work out well for the ‘other woman’.”

“Yeah, but the guy usually isn’t in love with the ‘other woman’. I love you.”

“Still? Even though…” He sighed again. “The other woman turned out to be the other man?”

“It’s kind of a relief, actually. I mean, yeah, life is gonna be hard for awhile, but then we can be together.”

“You still want that?”

“You still want me?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, Tony. I’m kind of in love with you.” He paused, twirling the fringe on his bedspread in his fingers. “My aunt kinda hates me.”

“I’m sorry. The whole homewrecker thing?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. She doesn’t understand.”

“It doesn’t help that the papers are… fucking ruthless. But what’s done is done. No putting this genie back in his closet,” he laughed wryly.

“I’m sorry Tony.”

“Not your fault baby. It just never happened before because I never stayed with the same person for more than a few nights. After a year and a half, my habits got picked up on. Traveling to the same place on a regular schedule. Someone was bound to catch me sooner or later.”

“So what’s gonna happen now?” Peter asked.

“Well, I could always have Happy drive by and pick you up to bring you to my suite at the Plaza.”

“What‽”

Tony chuckled. “Not like we have to keep it a secret anymore. Not like the whole world doesn’t know I’m into guys after today’s headlines. Not like she can sue me twice for cheating on her. The only question is how much heat are you willing to bear to be with me. Because it’s gonna get really hot for you, baby. They’re gonna dig out every nasty word in the thesaurus and print them.”

“Do I get to be with you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Let them print,” Peter said with fierce determination. “I’ll send them a list in case their thesaurus isn’t complete.”

[crackimagines]

Did someone say FLUFF?! Say no more, I gotcha! If it hasn’t been done yet, could you try something with Ashe and Lysithea with their fear of ghosts? It’d be funny to imagine him leaping into her tiny arms at the mere mention of a ghost 😝

I’ll tell ya this much, I’ve NEVER seen that done in any imagines blog yet.

I’m glad I have the honor of doing this, because well…

Thanks for the ask anon, I hope ya enjoy!

Post Writing Note: I was listening to the Outlast soundtrack as I wrote this and DAMN IT THAT WAS TOO FITTING, I was just as terrified writing this just as they were in this story ;-; oh god, i turned this fluff ask into a fucking horror story

—–

Things that go bump in the Monastery (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Ashe and Lysithea are at the library late at night, and hear something…

…Despite they’re the only two there.

—–

It was very late at the Monastery, yet the lights upstairs to the library were lit. Ashe shrugged and thought it was another student cramming for the upcoming exams. 

He had come to the library to read one of his favorite tales as a child, as embarrassing as it was to admit. 

When he entered the library, he heard it starting to rain outside, which made him sigh.

“Oh great, looks like I’m going to be here for a while…”

He continued inside and saw Lysithea reading a book, and sure enough, it was material related to their class.

“Oh, hello Lysithea.”

“Hm? Oh, hi Ashe. I didn’t think anyone would be up at this hour.”

“Same here. Need me to leave you be?”

“No, it’s fine. All I request is that you keep it down for a bit.”

“Sure thing.”

Ashe nodded and went towards the shelves to find one of the books he was looking for and-

CLUNK!

“…Ashe, I did not take you as the type to play idiotic jokes after a polite request.”

“Uh, what?”

When she glanced up from her book, she realized nothing around Ashe could’ve made that sound.

“Wha-…”

She looked behind her and saw a book fell onto the ground.

“Oh sorry. I thought you made that noise. I think someone forgot to put a book back up properly.”

Ashe shrugged and went over to the book to put it back up. As he went back to the shelf, they heard the same noise again, only from a different location.

Both of them stiffened up and waited, but the sound did not reappear. He slowly grabbed his book and quickly walked over to Lysithea.

“D-Do you mind if I sit next to you?” Ashe said, noticing that he was becoming more tense.

She grunted in response, but truthfully she was just as tense as he was.

Once he sat next to her, the air slowly began growing more intense. Not because they weren’t saying anything, but because that noise had starting appearing again.

“A-Ashe…I swear if you’re making that noise-”

“Why would I do that? More importantly, how?!”

“Hmph! Hang on a moment.” She got up from her chair and went towards the stairs.

“HEY, WHOEVER’S MAKING THAT NOISE KEEP IT DOWN!”

C R A C K !

Lightning immediately struck, scaring them almost to death, and at that moment, the candles went out.

Both Ashe and Lysithea screamed and fell to the floor.

“C-Crap, I can’t see!”

“Hang on!”

She casted a spell that acted as a floating light source, and now they were able to see. The room was far too dark for either of their liking.

They both made their way slowly to each other and started looking around.

“T-There’s…no ghosts here, right?” Ashe said shakily.

At the mention of ghosts, she immediately latched onto Ashe, shouting yet at the same time, holding onto him even tighter.

“D-DON’T SAY THAT! Ghosts c-can’t be at the monastery! I-It can’t be!”

CLUNK!

Both of them jumped, looking around for the source. It sounded like it came from behind this time.

“H-Hey…how about we head back to the dorms?” Lysithea asked.

“No need to ask twice…!” 

They both slowly backed up, trying not to make as much noise as possible.

Once they reached the stairs, Ashe started hanging onto Lysithea. Under normal circumstances, both of them would’ve been blushing messes, but Goddess knows THIS WASN’T NORMAL.

As they walked down, the noise from earlier became louder and louder. When they reached a corner, they hesitated for a moment before turning it, seeing an empty hallway with nothing but blackness in it.

Both had shivers down their spines and slowly began walking towards the next flight of stairs.

Neither of them dared to say anything, too afraid that they wouldn’t be able to hear anything if it snuck up on them.

C R A C K !

Another bolt of lightning struck, this time so close they could feel the building shake.

“AAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Ashe screamed out, and instinctively jumped. Lysithea managed to catch Ashe, and she was barely able to hold him. The light she casted went away as soon as she did, scaring both of them even further.

“H-Hey! C-Calm down! It’s just the-”

CREEAAAAAAK!

Both their eyes went wide, and slowly turned around. 

If it was a teacher or a guard reprimanding them, that they could take.

What they couldn’t take however, was the fact no door opened behind them, despite sounding so close.

Ashe got down back onto the ground, wanting to say sorry but couldn’t find the words. 

“A-A-A-Ashe…?!”

Her voice was shaking heavily, as if she were about to burst into tears.

Ashe held her hand tightly, in hopes that would help her feel better, but honestly? He felt like doing the same.

“U-Um…n-not to w-worry! I’ll protect you…!”

She held his arm with both of hers, and both quickly walked to the stairs not bothering to be discreet. 

Instead, they ran into something.

No, someone.

They fell to the floor and slowly looked up-

“ H e l l o ?“

(Ashe and Lysithea)

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

They immediately bolted for the opposite direction, tears coming out of both their faces, Ashe holding onto Lysithea’s arm.

At that moment, the figure pulled out a candle and lit it.

“Oh…I think I scared them. Brother, I think your experiments made 2 students run away in terror.”

Seteth came out of the room, and looked down the hallway.

“Is that who I was hearing? Hm, I must apologize to them once I find out who they are.”

Ashe kept dragging Lysithea, his pure adrenaline keeping his legs from giving out. He could tell she was slowing down, but like hell he was going to! He may not know her well, but he was not going to abandon her in this goddess-forsaken place!

When they were reaching the entrance, a candle lit aflame and they turned around. It made their heart lighten up a little, but there was no time to be lost.

“PROFESSOR BYLETH!” Ashe shouted.

“A-Ashe? Lysithea? What’s going on?!”

They both grabbed onto his arms, absolutely terrified.

“G-GHOST! THERE’S A GHOST UP THERE!” Lysithea said through tears. Ashe was saying something, but Byleth nor Sothis could make it out.

Byleth didn’t have the heart to tell them it was just Flayn and Seteth up there who were making that noise, and instead offered to comfort them.

“H-Hang on, why don’t you two sleep in my room?”

“ANYWHERE BUT HERE!” Ashe finally blurted out.

Byleth quickly nodded, and got an umbrella as they quickly ran back to the dorms.

Once they reached his room, he had them sleep on his bed, using his blanket and pillow. 

They all attempted to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Ashe and Lysithea almost died as far as they were concerned, and were hiding under their blankets lying extremely close to each other, eyes wide open. Byleth was on the floor with a mere sheet and a pillow, lying awake.

(Sothis) “…Being a therapist is under your job description, right?”

(Byleth) I am going to have some VERY stern words with those two.

For once, Byleth was the one to reprimand Seteth, and both him and Flayn apologized profusely to Ashe and Lysithea. 

Sothis knows they won’t be revisiting the library for a while.

…On the plus side, the two began hanging out more after that.

———

BONUS:

FLAYN-BUSTERS!

IF THERE’S SOMETHING STRANGE

IN YOUR ACADEMY

WHO YOU GON’ CALL?

FLAYN-BUSTERS!

IF THERES SOMETHING WEIRD

AND IT DONT LOOK GOOD

WHO YOU GON’ CALL?

[vethyourhalflingmother]

Elaina, Syldor, and their Twins: I Ramble About Character and Relationship Headcanons Like I’m Writing A Fucking Academic Essay

***SPOILERS FOR CAMPAIGN ONE OF CRITICAL ROLE***

**THIS POST IS VERY LONG. NO, I DON’T KNOW WHAT CONCISE MEANS**

PART ONE: WHAT WE KNOW

As viewers, we do not know much about the details of the relationship between Vax and Vex’s parents, Elaina and Syldor, and we actually don’t know that much about the twins’ relationships with each of their parents (although there are some key moments that give us certain hints). Therefore, most of this is based on my own headcanons and impressions, which I will attempt to explain, but this is the disclaimer that ultimately this is my own interpretation and everyone is entitled to see view it all how they want to see it.

Now, that said, I am going to start by going over what we know. 

Vax and Vex’s history summaries, which appeared at the beginning of early Critical Role episodes, give us the most information about their parents. 

Vax’s says,

“Along with twin sister Vex'ahlia, Vax was born by a chance encounter between elven royalty and human peasantry. Raised by their mother in their early years, the twins were eventually sent off to their father in the elven capital of Syngorn. But their cool reception among the elves there never warmed, and their time in the capital didn't last. The siblings stole away one autumn night and set out on the open road.” (source)

and Vex’s tells the same story, 

“Born of a human mother and an elven father—who only later in life took an interest in their existence—, Vex'ahlia and her twin brother Vax'ildan quickly realized the only people they could truly rely on in this world were each other.

It was at the age of ten when the two were taken from their mother, and brought to live in Syngorn, the isolated elven city for which their father was an ambassador. He quietly took them in, but always kept an icy distance, and after too many years of disdainful looks, the pair decided to leave his indifference behind, and set out on their own.” (source)

However, this isn’t the entire story. (Most of my source for the following information comes from Heredity and Hats, and I recommend watching the twins’ entire conversation with their father, their step-mother (Devana), and their sister (Velora), from roughly here until here).

Firstly, we learn the Syldor Vessar, the twins’ father isn’t exactly royalty; he’s an ambassador with substantial rank and privilege, but not as much as an actual royal, which is implied when he tells them that he can only get them one meeting with Syngorn’s leader, the High Warden - he’s probably more like a nobleman, which I’ll go into more about later. This also explains why he was out of such a closed off city in the first place. 

Secondly, it is unclear how involved Syldor and Elaina’s relationship was, probably because the twins themselves don’t know. There’s some implication that it was a brief fling or a one-night stand, from the language “a chance encounter” and how Vex crudely describes her and her brother’s conception as Syldor “fuck[ing] some random woman in a city [he] passed through.”

Thirdly, it is also unclear how Syldor came to take care of the twins. At times (like in Vax’s summary, and in some of Vex’s mentions of her mother), it is suggested that Elaina sent the twins to Syldor, whereas in the twins’ conversation with Syldor in Heredity and Hats, it is suggested that he took the twins from her (Vax’s line about leaving them to be with their mother when she died strongly suggests this). 

Fourthly, we know that Elaina was a peasant seamstress from Byroden who was killed when Thordak the Cinder King destroyed the town (when the twins were roughly 12 years old, probably before they ran away from Syldor - one of the artbooks supposedly puts the twins at 13 or 14 when they left Syngorn, but since I don’t have a copy myself, I’m not sure). This tells us quite a bit; both Vex and Vax’s summaries mention the racial difference between their parents, and in Heredity and Hats, Syldor brings up his people’s bigotry against humans and half-elves and how his life is easier when the twins aren’t part of it. Vax’s also mentions their class differences. And because Elaina is dead, we don’t see her until Vax dies himself - where we get one line of her saying that she’s proud of him. 

PART TWO: BASIC ASSUMPTIONS ON WHICH MORE COMPLEX INTERPRETATIONS ARE BUILT

Now that those facts are on the table, what do they mean for my interpretation and subsequent headcanons? In order to get into that, we have to start with my more basic assumptions based on the above information. 

To start at the beginning, Vex is likely right when she says Syldor was passing through Byroden and had a quick fling with Elaina. He probably didn’t know that he got her pregnant. It’s altogether possible that he stopped in this little town for one night on his way to do some ambassadorial duties and didn’t think twice about it until he passed through again and heard a rumor about some half-elf children, and I headcanon that’s what happen. (That said, they could’ve had a short fling as well, though I doubt there was any love. Syldor clearly looks down on humans, and Elaina’s class likely doubled that bigotry.) 

As for a timeline about when the Syldor first heard he may have bastard children and when he decided to interfere, I don’t have a specific one, but I feel like he probably spent a long time debating about it - and how it would affect his personal and professional life. As mentioned above, Vax’s summary implies that Syldor is royalty, but his status is more complicated than that. It does have special privileges, and I know because in Syngorn is childbaring is very regulated (as described in Matt Mercer’s Tal’Dorei Campaign Guide, children have to be approved by the government before conception, and unapproved children, even full-blooded elves, are sent to live outside the city). As an ambassador Syldor probably gets special passes on certain things, like leaving the city in general, and bringing back illegal wines and children to Syngorn and claiming they’re gifts that just can’t be turned down from the city’s allies. 

Ultimately, he either fell prey to his own arrogance about the importance of his bloodline or he felt guilty. I’m inclined to believe it’s a mixture of both emotions, though probably more guilt, since Syldor expresses that he cares about the twins in some capacity - just not nearly as much as children deserve from their father.  

Now, for Elaina, at this point, I have a considerably less clear picture of her than I do Syldor, just due to lack of information. However, I’ve seen a few interpretations that don’t particularly do it for me, such as her being lovelorn and entirely passive. I don’t tend to like that because 1) her children are both very active in their own destinies, including their romantic lives, and 2) that’s a pretty stereotypical position for her to be in, especially given that Syldor has a lot of a status over her. But when I was developing Elaina, I had to sift through some deeper stuff before I started deciding what she would be, as a character in my head, rather than just what she wasn’t. 

Which brings me to a more complex question that ended up being fundamental to my personal interpretation of Syldor and Elaina, both together and as individuals: did Elaina send the twins with Syldor or did Syldor take the twins from Elaina? 

PART THREE: ADDRESSING THE NUANCE

So. I already said that Liam contradicts himself on this wording. The real world explanation for that is likely that he wasn’t thinking about the difference, or that the twins’ backstory became clearer once they played more, which are both incredibly valid possibilities. But I am an English major, and if you’ve followed my blog for awhile, you know I like to pick on little details for fun. And this little detail has some interesting implications.

The difference between Elaina sending the twins with Syldor and Syldor taking them is a matter of both Elaina’s personal choice and Syldor’s use of force. But’s not so simple as she definitely gave them of her own will or Syldor definitely made her - and this isn’t just due to lack of information, it’s also because I get the impression that the twins themselves view the situation differently. 

I don’t have sources on hand, but I got the feeling that Vex felt more like Elaina gave them over to Syldor too willingly, whereas Vax’s frustration with the situation was only directed at Syldor (perhaps because he holds his mother in high esteem, or maybe because he really does believe she did what she could to try & keep them/was forced to give them up against her will). Perhaps at a later date, I will write something else going into the twins’ perspectives on their parents and general heritage, but since that’s a whole other can of worms, I’m going to leave it there for now. 

The point is, my understanding was that the twins were not unified in their thoughts of moving from mom to dad, and what I took from that was, well it was probably a very nuanced situation. 

Elaina obviously cared for her children. There’s evidence. As mentioned above, Vax would’ve rather died with her than live in Syngorn. They went back to try and find her after they ran away. The Raven Queen used her to ease Vax’s passing. But that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t give them up to Syldor. She was a peasant. The twins imply that they were poor growing up - this, combined with their time on their own after Syngorn, seem to be why Vex is as concerned with money as she is. If Syldor said, “I could give them a life where money wasn’t a worry,” I would think she’d take it under consideration.

I don’t think she would be eager to send her children into the unknown with a man she barely knows, especially not one that also looks down his nose at her, though. Perhaps if she were desperate, but there’s no indication that the twins were starving, and they did have a house and clothes (as Vax dramatically recalls at one point when he thinks he’s dying), and Elaina did have a job as a seamstress. Obviously, I can’t say for certain that she wasn’t completely desperate, but my impression is that she wasn’t. 

The other factor is how willing she is to just let things happen to her. If she was quite passive, then perhaps she would hand them over simply due to her lack of ability to stand up for herself. But very early into this, I started formulating an Elaina that was very headstrong and fierce and took control of her own destiny. This, to me, felt true to the part of her we know most about: her children. And ultimately, it’s the kind of thing that turns a flat character into one with more substance - it’s not an easy decision for her.

So that is the Elaina who sees the merit of Syldor’s suggestion, but also the Elaina who wants to refuse it. Why doesn’t she? Because Syldor is a man (elf? you know what I mean) with power, something I’m sure she’d known from the moment she met him. It isn’t as if men like Syldor hide that shit. Do I think he outright threatened to beat her down if she didn’t hand over the twins? No, not at all. But an implication of how... traumatic it would be for the twins if he stopped asking nicely could work well enough coupled with promises of good futures for them. Or it might not even be that overt; maybe he could’ve  just demand a decision from her without giving her time to think, or time to talk to the twins about what they want. And so now not only is it not easy, but maybe it’s not even entirely her own. There’s another layer to her and the situation. 

Therefore, in my mind, when Elaina watches the twins leave, she roiling with all sorts of emotions - anger, loss, apprehension, anxiety, maybe even a small bud of hope - but most immediately, regret. My version of Elaina, more than anything, curses herself over her decision to let the twins go, until the moment her house catches fire. 

PART FOUR: SYLDOR, A CHARACTER SUMMARY

Syldor Vessar is an asshole. He was probably an asshole to Elaina, though I doubt they talked much. He’s a bad father. He brought the twins into an environment he knew would be hostile to them and then neglected them. Then he tried to hide behind the excuse of “well, I did all I could.” However, I see a lot of asshole fathers portrayed in fiction that remind me of cartoon villains with black and white perspectives and iron fists. But Syldor’s a different brand.  Because Syldor says that he cares and that he’s proud of the twins. He gives them access to the High Warden. He admits to some of his wrong doings. And on some level, that stuff is probably true and genuine. I think he believes he did all he could. He knows he wasn’t the best father, but clearly he didn’t see himself as bad enough to not have another child. He probably assumes he can do better by Velora. And maybe he can, with a full-blooded elf, with a daughter he actually considers his own. But maybe not. To me, it looks like Syldor’s love is extremely conditional. From what Vax and Vex imply, the conditions are how pointy your ears are, how much money you have in your pocket, and how well you can conform. 

PART FIVE: ELAINA, A CHARACTER SUMMARY

I’ve said most of this already, but Elaina is my tragedy that really tried to resist being a tragedy. As far as her life prior to Syldor, I like to think she was doing her best to enjoy life in order to balance all the damn work she had to do. I like to think she was popular in Byroden, and that she had lots of acquaintances but few really close friends. I like to think she had one night a week where she went to the tavern and got piss drunk. I like to think that she spat at the men who told her to smile. I like to think that he needlework was some of the best in the region, which is a small prize, but one of her to be proud of. I like to think that she slept with more than just Syldor. 

And I like to think that she kept all that fervor when she had the twins, but that she repurposed it a little to better suit them. I like to think she made up wild stories and told them to the twins every night. I like to think she wasn’t a great cook, but that her meals still had that something special that only mothers can add. I like to think she instilled the sense of goodness in the twins that follows what is right, not what is the law. And I like to think that she sparked something in them that led them to be champions of literal gods. That she was more than just a footnote to encourage their vengeance against a dragon they were going to kill anyway and more than just a random woman Syldor fucking Vessar fucked.  

Because to me, it feels like she did mean much more than can be said, at least to her children.

[almostarchaeology]

Hogwarts Needs Archaeologists, Part 2: Excavating Magic

By Adrián Maldonado

In the last blog post, I realized that despite being suffused with ancient artefacts, the wizarding world of Harry Potter didn’t seem to have any archaeologists. Instead, wizards and witches live in a weirdly eternal present with little sense of how things have come to be as they are, and this ultimately caused them no end of trouble. So much of the story hinges on prominent characters not knowing about artefacts and landscapes of medieval origin that it seemed clear that the establishment of a Wizarding Museum or department of Magical Material Culture Studies at Hogwarts may have genuinely saved them from war.

Harry Potter Studio Tour: closest we’ll get to a wizarding museum (source)

Even though wizards can’t be arsed learning about their own past, it behooves us muggle archaeologists to interrogate this invisible but fundamental aspect of our shared human past. As the books make clear, muggles and wizards are all just human. The separation between the two has its roots in the same intellectual fallacy of early modern thought which gave muggles the concept of race – that human ability could be measured in purity of ‘blood’. Beyond a focus on antiquities, attention to the archaeological context of the wizarding world is essential to the project of interrogating the human condition, and will produce new insights on the muggle past and present. To learn more, we will have to conduct some fieldwork of our own.

When is magic?

Before we start planning the Godric’s Hollow Big Dig, we need to know how archaeology might work in the wizarding world. Looking back at these stories with nerd-tinted spectacles, it seems to me that magic changes over time, and the ways it is deployed may tell us something about the human journey, magically-abled or otherwise.

No - obviously no we don’t

We know there are one or two people who care about history and magical theory, because in Philosopher’s Stone we get a list of textbooks assigned to first-years at Hogwarts which includes A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot and Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling. However, we get precious few glimpses into these texts as Harry does not seem to read. We also know these are used in some of the most boring and tedious courses taught at Hogwarts, ensuring few wizards would want to go on to study them further. Occupy the curriculum!

As we explored in the previous post, it seems that history in the wizarding world seems to begin only around a thousand years ago, when Hogwarts was founded. Much of what passes for history is the merely the genealogy of famous houses. It is curiously similar to Europe in the early nineteenth century, when there was an awareness of classical antiquity, but no such concept as prehistory. Perhaps it is a world that somehow has not yet discovered archaeology?

Archaeology > time travel (source)

Perhaps, one might argue, there is no need for wizarding archaeologists because wizards have time-turners which allow time travel. However, it so happens that time travel beyond a few hours in the past is extremely dangerous and heavily regulated, and in any case all of the remaining time-turners in the Department of Mysteries were destroyed in the Second Wizarding War.

That notwithstanding, one might also argue that wizards don’t need archaeology because anyone could stand in a field and cast spells like Accio coin hoard, or Revelio Roman villa and be done with it. But as with metal detecting, simply ripping an object out the ground does not help you understand why it got there, and if done poorly it may even impede the possibility of reconstructing its context later. Similarly, chasing the walls of a Roman villa would destroy the evidence of just how it was reduced to its foundations and what happened in this spot for the next two millennia. This would not be archaeology, but antiquarianism. And we don’t even seem to have that.

That said, it would be great to magically de-turf, sieve and cart away spoil. We could sure use the help backfilling, too.

But what about excavating magical sites? Can magic be excavated? Do we even know when magic began? Could archaeologists help find out?

Awareness of enchantments

Dunno Harry - it’s either paleolithic or a horcrux (source)

A lot of our knowledge of how magic works in the Potterverse comes from the fleeting glimpses we get of masters like Dumbledore at work. In the iconic 26th chapter of Half-Blood Prince, The Cave, we watch the headmaster undertake some hardcore field survey.

“Magic always leaves traces”, he explains as he detects the curses and spells that Tom Riddle placed to secure the hiding place of one of his horcruxes.

Harry could not tell whether the shivers he was experiencing were due to his spine-deep coldness or to the same awareness of enchantments. Dumbledore approached the wall of the cave and caressed it with his blackened fingertips, murmuring words in a strange tongue that Harry did not understand. Twice Dumbledore walked right around the cave, touching as much of the rough rock as he could, occasionally pausing, running his fingers backwards and forwards over a particular spot…

Dark magic, at least, seems to be detectable, at least to those, like Dumbledore and Harry, lucky enough to have been born in Godric’s Hollow, where all of British wizarding history starts and ends. Throughout the books, we hear occasional stories of places or objects having ‘old magic’, which also gives off some sort of distinctive trace. Indeed, there seems to be nothing worse than old Dark magic, which leaves more than just a trace. This is most aptly described in the Pottermore essay on Azkaban, which was only discovered after its occupier, the dark sorcerer Ekrizdis, died and its concealment charms faded away. “Experts who had studied buildings built with and around Dark magic contended that Azkaban might wreak its own revenge upon anybody attempting to destroy it.” Wait, there are experts in magical architectural history but not archaeology? That figures, actually – in its origins, medieval archaeology was itself mainly about unearthing the ground plans of castles and cathedrals.

As many of our archaeological textbooks tell us, excavation is managed destruction. So would it ever be possible to excavate a site of old Dark magic, or would this count as an attempt to ‘destroy’ it? And how would one know until one tried to dig there? Speaking as a former archaeology health and safety officer, I can’t help but think of the threat old Dark magic might pose to any novice archaeowizard who works on such sites. Real-world archaeologists need to make sure they are up to date on all their vaccinations, but I’m not sure what can be done to prevent accidental cursing by taking a mattock to the wrong enchanted soil layer.

Revelio stratigraphy

Dumbledore’s methodology and Harry’s ‘awareness of enchantments’ lead me to believe that such threats can be averted, or at least mitigated, by undertaking preventative magophysical survey. The question is whether the traces of spells that Dumbledore and Harry can sense have a physical signature that can be isolated and detected mechanically – or perhaps, by wand. Wandmaker Ollivander’s notes on wand woods shows that some woods may be more receptive to the natural world than others; for instance, “Hazel wands also have the unique ability to detect water underground, and will emit silvery, tear-shaped puffs of smoke if passing over concealed springs and wells.” In this instance at least, it seems that wands can have involuntary, mechanical responses to certain external stimuli. Other woods and wand cores are also said to have the ability to learn and detect magical character. In short, this is an area that needs a lot more research, but would still be restricted to the wizarding population, which, as we have already seen, could barely give a toss about their own heritage.

People and things in the Potterverse

Old magic can be the most powerful (source)

Speaking of wands, these ‘objects’ open up some pretty fundamental questions about the nature of things and people in the Potterverse. This was all explored in some depth in my scriptural commentary of choice, Binge Mode Harry Potter episode 55, wherein Jason Concepcion devoted a Restricted Section to wands. From the beginning of the series, we are told that wands are semi-animate objects with agency of their own. Wands famously ‘choose’ their owners, but it does not end there; in his notes on wand woods, Ollivander observes that hazel wands die with their owners, and that 

Hornbeam wands likewise absorb their owner’s code of honour, whatever that might be, and will refuse to perform acts – whether for good or ill – that do not tally with their master’s principles. A particularly fine-tuned and sentient wand.” [Emphasis mine] 

Most interestingly, wands seem to become a part of their owner’s essence; as wandmaker Ollivander explains, “each wand is the composite of its wood, its core and the experience and nature of its owner”. What he is describing here is a rudimentary sort of assemblage theory.

Assembling the wizard (source)

It seems wands are only ‘objects’ until they choose an owner, at which point they become part-person. And as we saw in a previous post, wands and pensieves are often buried with their owners, as if they are indivisibly entwined with the wizard, even after death. In a similar but more sinister way, Voldemort is able to ensoul objects, and these Horcruxes take on shades of his person which enact his will on anyone who encounters them. The wizarding world is full of objects that are part-people, or is it people that are part object?

This should come as no surprise to anthropologists. For decades theorists have explored all the different ways in which we are entangled with the people, things, environments and social structures in which we are embedded. We look to other continents and distant pasts to seek parallels when they are all around us. For instance, ancient Egyptians had a complicated idea of what constituted the person, from the physical body to several aspects of what we patronisingly call ‘the soul’, mainly because we cannot translate its complexity into any other Judeo-Christian terminology. These include the name, the heart and the shadow, and it is striking how many of these aspects of the person could be made to reside into what we would call inanimate objects.

The Enlightenment notion of the individual with unlimited agency, existing only within the bounds of their own bodies and minds, is very much out of fashion, as I have accidentally already explored in previous posts on this blog. We have trouble dissociating people from their belongings after they die, as if they remain uncannily inhabited. We send our names to space by the thousands, because it matters that this aspect of our selves is preserved in some way. Wizards are merely cyborgs, but then, aren’t we all?

Excavating the self

His teaching style was unorthodox to say the least (Warner Bros. Pictures)

The problem here is that the Harry Potter cycle is, on the face of it, distinctly repulsed by the idea of a soul being split up and distributed among objects and people. But this critique always kind of rang false for me. Voldemort is guilty of lots of things (murder, bigotry, aversion to rhinoplasty), but not the inhabitation of objects. The story is full of ways in which people are permeable beyond horcruxes; wands, pensieves, names, portraits, ghosts, Tom Riddle’s diary and the Sorting Hat, which contains the ‘intelligence’ of the Hogwarts founders, all ‘store’ an essence of the person. As we saw in the previous post, the Hogwarts founders are represented by objects which act as relics. At one point, Hermione even becomes multiple selves in her third year with a time-turner. More mystical happenings involve the permeation of one’s self into another: Lily Potter’s love shields Harry; Snape’s Patronus becomes Lily’s doe; Harry’s Patronus is his father’s. Through the wands, the self is extended. In the pensieve, memory becomes material, reminding us that thoughts, emotions and perhaps even magic, are of the body. “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?”

Without digging a single trench or featuring a single archaeologist, Rowling’s universe predicted a lot that would become fashionable in archaeological theory in the 21st century. Perhaps the most important lesson imparted by the books is that the difference between muggles and wizards is simply awareness. It is not only muggles who are unaware of the magic world under our feet (and apparently latent in our blood). Wizards are also unaware of where and when their powers reside. And if wizards could be convinced to take a material turn, what might muggles achieve by exploring their own entanglement with the wizarding world? Might we excavate an awareness of the enchantment within us all?

***

Back to Part 1: Fantastic Antiquities and Where to Find Them

Follow us on @AlmostArch

[pippa-frost]

Bird Skein: Red on Carpet

Part 1: Red on carpet.

Part 2: (not done yet)

I think i’ve never put TW, i’ll fix that later on! For now:

TW: Blood, Injury (described, but the way it happens isnt’s mentioned)

If you think of any others please let me know!

Tags! I know i’m missing a lot of people! I actually just copied the tags from the last fic i tagged, i’m not even sure if they’ll all get to you, but don’t worry, proper tags are coming, just not yet! To all those who have asked me i will be updating these so you can be tagged, but i said in my previous post, that won’t be until i’m fully back on track with writing and posting!

  @eriysa-p @fluffbirdx @yoshimicherryopal @gayhannaford @caristars @extremepenguin10 @skylions-den @demonickittykat @the-diaries-of-a-nerd @cochroachkappa-blog @what-even-is-thiss @deafinatelyfangirling @fugitive-angel @corystssides @tiny-mudkip @parsnipit @romananalogicality @analogicalhell @starlight-sanders @dan-yuna @wingedchickadee @ana-logical @diplomatic-arsonist @killerfangirl3 @princeyandanxiety @pattonscardigan @pfftwhatnoimhuman @agentflash18 @ec-sanderssides @frustratedwaffle @inalandofmythandtimeofmagic @thagrinbery @prplzorua @ohmehgawdnotagain @analogically-prinxiety @beautiful-crimson @prinxietys @prinxiety-fandom @prinxiety-logicality-ss @starrykid @organizeddiscord @ts-sideblog @sanderships @toxicsanders

“Do you know how birds fly in a ‘v’ formation…?”

-- 

Patton is the first to wake up. He sits up, dizzy and confused, before glancing around. Everything is still and silent, and even in his not-really-awake-yet state of mind, a sense of wrong settles over his shoulders. He looks down to where his hands hold him in place. He had been lying on his belly, but there’re no blankets or pillows around. The wrong steadily grows, now heavy inside his chest. He looks up again, only this time with a sense of urgency. He’s in the living room only it looks kind of bleak, the familiar colors somehow dulled. The TV is off and lying in front of it is-

“Thomas, run!!”

It all comes back to him like a bucketful of freezing water.

Night.

Movies.

Thomas.

Oh god, Thomas.

His head turns around with enough force to cause whiplash, the image of Roman falling down fresh in his mind. Just as he remembers, Roman is lying head down on the floor a few feet behind him, unconscious still. Logan, behind him as well but closer than Roman, is lying on his right side and beginning to stir, which lifts a little of the worry churning inside him. Logan would know what to do. Logan always knew what to do.

So that left-

“Virgil” he mutters as he turns his head back around and sees him in front of the TV. His kiddo is lying on his belly, quiet and unmoving. And he has to go check on him before he wakes up frantic and scared and he can hear Logan moving behind him and he has to check on him as well, but they also have to check on Roman, and Thomas, they gotta find out what happened, is he okay? Where are they? Did someone fou-

“…Patton?” he distantly hears Logan’s hesitant call and realizes he’s stood up. It doesn’t really matter.

Because there’s red.

There’s red on the carpet beneath and next to the anxious side, some sort of puddle under him. Except that doesn’t make sense. There shouldn’t be any red. They don’t have any strawberry juice left, and they were all drinking hot chocolate during the movie, and those stains are already fading.

Without taking his eyes away from their kiddo and not really aware of his own movements, he rushes forward in an awkward dance of stumbling and falling and crawling until he makes it to Virgil’s side, kneeling right over the red.  

“Virgil?” he asks with fear, hoping more than anything that he’ll receive an answer.

He doesn’t.

The latter is lying on his stomach, head to his right facing Patton, his right arm almost hiding his face.

Patton can’t help it. He looks down, and with a trembling hand places his fingers on the stain. A broken sigh escapes his mouth along with a whine. What he’s touching isn’t wet, but it still taints his fingers, and the metallic smell is impossible to ignore up close.

It’s blood.

It’s a lot of blood. A whole puddle of it.

There shouldn’t, in any way, be blood on the floor. Let alone a puddle of it. And he wants to believe that’s not what it is, it’s just juice, just some strawberry juice, that’s all this is, but he knows it isn’t and-

“Logan!” he shrieks, cause Logan will know, Logan must know, and he’ll come over here and explain to him why there’s red on the carpet, and it’ll make perfect sense, and Virgil will be A-Okay, and they’ll find out what happened and Thomas will be fi-

“Patton!” the other is kneeling next to him, a hand placed on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed.

“Logan” his voice breaks and maybe he’s crying, he can’t really tell “L-Logan there’s- there’s” and his eyes moving downwards is all the other needs. Logan follows his line of sight, just about to interrupt Patton, and his mouth snaps shut, eyes wide open.  

The logical side doesn’t say a word as he hurriedly starts turning Virgil over. Patton goes to help only to stop at Roman’s gasp. He’s now sitting up and glancing at them with terrified eyes.

“Oh my god!! Thomas!!” he yells before looking at them “What happened?!”

The oldest doesn’t really know how to explain nor does he have the voice to do so, letting his eyes show the other just like they did Logan. Roman hurries over to them just as the logical side gets their youngest on his back and starts pulling up the red soaked end of his t-shirt.

All three of them choke a gasp at the same time.  

“Oh my god!!” the recently awoken side cries from Virgil’s other side “That’s blood!!”

“Yes, Roman-”

“What the hell happened?!”

“Roma-”

“Why the hell is he bleeding?!”

“Thomas was bleeding too!” Logan manages to say before being interrupted again.

“So?! You know he shouldn’t be bleeding! We aren’t bleeding!!” he motions to them and while Patton knows that’s true, he can’t help but glance at his middle to make sure. And no, no blood stains there.

“We know, Roman!!” Logan screams, making Roman stop his tirade and Patton jump next to him. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Logan this… frustrated doesn’t even come close “And that’s all we’ll know until we gather more information, starting by locating the injury, which isn’t possible with all the blood covering his abdomen, so would you please shut up, and go get some towels and water!!”

Roman’s face is unreadable, a combination of maybe-indignation, maybe-surprise and maybe-anger, his mouth tightly shut. But after a couple of seconds he stands up and hurries to do as told.

“Patton” Logan turns his attention to him now and he can’t help but flinch “Go get the first aid kit, and bring some warm water”

Patton doesn’t need to be told twice. He does both tasks as fast as possible and soon he’s back on his spot. Roman is already there and Logan is wiping his hands with a little towel, before taking a different one and dipping it in the warm water he’s just brought.

With held breaths Roman and Patton- who has now gripped Virgil’s hoodie-, watch Logan slowly and carefully clean away the blood, leaving red streaks along the way and brownish spots on the white towel. Patton is sure he’ll have to rush away to puke any moment now.

As Logan nears the center of it all, the oldest keeps a close eye on the injured side, ready to act at any signs of pain. It turns out to be unnecessary, tho. The logical facet makes it to the source of the blood and Virgil doesn’t so much as meep. He can’t believe it, and he looks at the others to convey how wrong this is, only Logan is focused on Virgil, his eyes wide, and Roman is too busy gaping downwards. Patton follows their gaze and sees the wound.

As they knew it would, it’s placed on the youngest’s right side. Only it isn’t just a mark or some line like their injuries usually are. No, instead there’s an actual fresh looking cut pulled closed by black stitches.

Patton’s mind goes blank. He can’t process what he’s seeing. There’s a knot inside his throat and pressure on his eyes, he feels so cold, yet he can’t really move to try and fix any of it.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees something move and he’s barely able to move his head enough to get a clear view of Roman standing up, or giving it his best with wobbling legs; his hands are shaking at his sides and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“…Logan?” the oldest finally, alas shakily, finds his voice. The latter is staring at the injury with a shocked expression, seemingly frozen.

“W-we” the Side manages after a few gulps “We need to…” and the other two are waiting anxiously- Patton feels tears fall at the thought- for his words until he is suddenly back to his problem-solving-chop-chop-everyone self, facing them to give them instructions.

“Roman, get me a pair of scissors and a spare t-shirt for Virgil. Patton” he starts, Roman already gone “go get blankets, we’ll lay him on the couch to keep an eye on him”

Patton does so, and soon enough Logan is cutting Virgil’s shirt open with Roman’s help.

“Patton, I need you to try and see if you can get him to respond” he tells him and it’s like snapping out of a trance. Patton hadn’t even thought of that. He hadn’t even bothered to look at his kiddo, to try to wake him up, to make sure he was okay, too focused on the red, more worried about a color than his kiddo. So he looks at Virgil, really looks at him, and realizes that the red shouldn’t have been his first worry.

Virgil’s face is slack, peaceful, not unlike the little amount of times they can catch him nightmare-less-ly sleeping of the little amount of times the youngest manages to fall asleep in the first place. But he looks terrible. While the gloomy side has always had a paler complexion than the rest of them, his skin looks like he’s just been on a fight with a flour sack. His skin looks almost gray and somehow dulled, not even his lips colorful enough to show any sort of contrast. And his eyeshadow. Oh, his eyeshadow.

Patton doesn’t realize it at first, certain that something’s terribly wrong, but unable to quite place it. For some reason, Virgil looks younger, more vulnerable, more childlike, and also more like… He looks more like Thomas. And he now sees it. The eyeshadow. There’s barely any eyeshadow. He has dark bags under his eyes, yes, which make him look exhausted and sick, but other than that he looks as if he had spent hours doing his best to get the makeup off his face, the faintest fuzzy smudges left under his eyes.

Something inside his chest goes tight and it feels like an elephant is standing on his heart and lungs.

(He knows how to phrase it because he’s heard those exact same words from Virgil before. Is this truly how Anxiety has always felt like?)

Eyeshadow is Virgil’s trait. He can touch it up, play with it as with any kind of makeup; it can vary extent and intensity. But it can never be gotten rid of. It’s a part of what he is. And yet now is almost gone.

He puts a hand against the pale cheek and all he feels is cold skin.

“L-logan?” he tries, looking at the latter, because if there’s anyone who can fix this, that’s their Logic. Said side has cut Virgil’s shirt off, leaving only the sleeves hidden by his hoodie, and is now cleaning the cut and putting some cream on it, Roman getting bandages ready next to him. Logan looks at him, then at Virgil, then gulps.

“Try to wake him up” is all he says, looking at Patton right in the eyes, voice tight.

And so Patton does.

He holds Virgil’s face in both hands, thumbs caressing his skin.

“…Kiddo?” he asks, aware of the waver and fear on his voice. No change “Virgil? Hey, Kiddo, can you open your eyes for me?” he whimpers “Please, Sweetie, I just need you to answer me okay? You can even pout if you want, just anything is fine” he barely makes out “If you really don’t wanna say anything that’s fine, just- just show me you can hear me, okay?” he sobs, aware of the fact that he can’t really afford to rely on expressions alone with how blurry everything looks right now. He clears the tears away with one hand and looks again, hoping for a change.

There’s none. And he doesn’t really know how to deal with that. It’s all too much.

The sobs escape him like water from a broken dam, pain on his chest making him double over, fear for his kiddo guiding his forehead towards Virgil’s.

“Patton…” he hears Roman, hands pulling him away.      

“He’s not waking up” he wails “I don’t know what’s wrong and he won’t wake up!”

“Patton, you have to let go of him, Roman needs to help me wrap the bandages” Logan orders. And he’s, of course, right. He can’t get in the way of taking care of his kiddo, so he lets go and lets the creative facet pull his sobbing body away.

He sits there, crying and worrying and fearing, while the other two wrap bandages around Virgil’s middle, Logan doing the wrapping while instructing Roman on how to carefully lift the unconscious side’s middle to get the gauze under his back. Their youngest doesn’t flinch, whine nor frown during that whole time. It makes Patton want to scream.

Once they’re done, the other two move Virgil to the couch, hoodie zipped close and blanket covering him. The oldest grabs and doesn’t let go of the latter’s hand from the moment they start moving him.

Then there’s silence. The most important thing -seeing to Virgil’s injury – has been taken care of, so now they’re painfully free to deal with the next issue.

“What the fuck happened” Roman asks with a frustrated tone, probably lacking bite due to how tired they all clearly feel. He’s sitting by Virgil’s feet, arms supporting him by his sides as if being in a constant state of about-to-get-up-and-pace-but-holding-myself-down. Patton doesn’t really have it in him to scold him.

Logan sighs from where he’s sitting on a chair he took from the dining room so he could watch Virgil, hands on his face, elbows on his knees. He pinches his nose with one hand after taking off his glasses with the other. He looks exhausted.

“We all know what happene-”

“You know what I mean” the fanciful side interrupts, serious and angry “Why is Virgil like this? What happened after I fainted?” he demands, looking to each of them. Patton himself is sitting on the floor by Virgil’s head, one hand grapping the other’s cold one. He averts his eyes, not knowing what to say. He’s just as confused, just as clueless as Princey feels.

Logan sighs again.

“I lost consciousness not long after you did. And I’m guessing it was the same for Patton” he says, glancing at him, to which he nods miserably.

“So Virge was the last one standing?” Prince asks with a touch of surprise and confusion. Patton nods again.

“He was still standing before I went night-night” he tries to lighten up with a smile, clearly failing.

Logan opens his mouth to say something but closes it before he can make any sound, only this time it seems to Patton that it isn’t because of being out of words, the other looks almost shy, as if ready to say something but choosing not to, which only makes Patton’s bad feeling grow.

“…I have a theory” Logan says after a while, and Patton finally feels something good appear between all the yucky things currently inside him, the latter’s sudden uncertainty to voice his thoughts gone in favor of any kind of explanation-equals-plan idea to hold on to; because of course Logan does, and if he does then it’s probably correct and he’ll have a way to fix it! “But I can’t truly confirm it until Thomas wakes up”

“You think he’s okay?” Patton asks with hope too strong to contain, both Roman and he looking at the logical side expectantly. The latter sighs again, before looking down. The oldest can feel worry and fear and uncertainty radiating from him in waves and the hope shrinks back down as if hurt.

“The fact that we’re having this conversation entails that Thomas is alive, otherwise we would be dead with him” and they both shudder at the thought, unable to understand how Logan can mention something like that so casually “The fact that we lost consciousness means he did so as well, and not only that, but he lost it due to something life threatening, most likely blood loss”

“Then how-?” Roman starts only to be cut off.

“The fact that we’re awake means he’s alive, which means someone treated him, so we were most likely found by someone who managed to get Thomas to a hospital. That would explain why we just woke up” Logan explains “If he was treated then he was sedated, which would keep us dormant”

“So he’s in a hospital now?” Patton asks, a huge weight lifting from his shoulders.

“He must be. Be we can’t be sure until he wakes up”

“Can’t we wake him? We’re awake so the drugs must be gone!” Roman asks as he stands up and stars pacing.

“You know we can’t” the older one sighs in frustration, standing up as well “Us awake doesn’t mean he’s no longer drugged, it means the sedation is wearing off. And not all of us are awake! He isn’t just sleeping, Roman, and even if he was, we both know the only one who maybe would be able to rouse him is Virgil, and he isn’t exactly available!”

“Is it the anesthesia?” Patton hurries to ask before Princey’s open mouth can start moving “Is that why he’s like this?” he pleads brokenly.

“… Maybe” Logan mutters, looking away from the other sides.

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?!” the younger demands “We’re awake! And that wouldn’t explain the blood!”

“I mean…” he huffs “I mean that maybe he’s unresponsive due to the sedatives. But no, he wouldn’t bleed because of them, nor would he be as… weak as he is right now.”

“Then why?!” Roman cries, heaving and trembling. Logan looks right back at him, unfazed and just as tense. The oldest looks between them with fearful eyes, scared by the all the negative emotions yet just as desperate for an answer Logan clearly suspects.

“…Because Thomas was”

Tags will be done later on (explanation in a note i just posted, i will link it later aswell!) Hope you guys like it! Don’t know when next part will be here, already have part of it ready, but it definitely won’t be before the holidays!

Also post tags will also be fixed and properly done later on!

Love you guys!

[michael-radi-the-glamorous-life]

The Rumor, The Legend, The Mystery

Most people - and writers in particular - are drawn to stories about larger-than-life people, figures, and times. Moments and personalities that disrupted the status quo and changed the course of history. The extraordinary.

These are the stories that live on, passed down through facts and records (contemporary and non), as well as rumor, gossip, and anecdotes that may or may not include a kernel of truth.

The people at the center of these stories are some of the most compelling, and they have attracted the attention of people throughout generations.

And writers love them.

Historians and creative writers alike love to tackle these gigantic stories filled with change and drama, as well as mystery and intrigue, and put their own spins on them. But what they never tell you is just how difficult these people and stories are to write.

I too have fallen victim to this type of alluring narrative and - despite this post’s title - I am not speaking about the great historical mystery of Anastasia as adapted by Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty.

I’m talking about one of Western history’s most debated women from one of English history’s most infamous time periods:

Anne Boleyn.

483 Years and Still Going Strong

This Sunday, May 19th, will be the 483rd anniversary of Anne Boleyn’s beheading.

And 483 years after this woman’s death, she is perhaps more popular, talked about, portrayed, and debated than ever. That’s insane!

I think most people would be happy if they were talked about for a full generation or two following their deaths.

But 483 years? Why? What is so compelling about this woman and her story?

…lol. Yeah. I deeeeefinitely don’t have enough time to spell that out in a singular blog post, but there are now tons of brilliant, wonderful, and well-researched books, websites, and podcasts on the topic!

But if I were to give a (sinfully) short list of her notable accomplishments alone, they would be:

Acquired information and skills from multiple continental European courts as a young woman.

Finagled a betrothal to a high English noble.

Captured King Henry VIII’s attention - and then kept it for ~7 years.

Served as a catalyst for English Church reform - including the break with Rome.

Successfully helped Henry acquire a divorce - unprecedented in how it was accomplished.

Married the King of England.

Gave birth to the future Queen Elizabeth I.

Was the first English Queen ever to be put to death…not so much an accomplishment, but certainly an important and notable historical point.

And these are just bullet point specifics. It’s clear from this list of actions that Anne had a large role in altering the course of early Renaissance English history, but this list also tells us very little about who she actually was as a person…

…Which leads to the next question. Who was Anne Boleyn?

This is something that historians, writers, and intrigued lovers of history have been obsessed with trying to figure out throughout the past almost 5 centuries. It’s a complicated question to answer due to the lack of surviving materials from Anne herself, as well as the heavily biased nature of the contemporary sources.

There just isn’t as much information as we want.

“So, how the heck do you wade through this mire of complexity to write an entire musical centered around such a well-known yet mysterious figure?”

I’m glad you asked!

Mistress Anne

The first large complication for me was that Anne Boleyn tends to be seen one of two ways. Either:

The helpless pawn of her father, uncle, brother, and Henry. (‘cause, ya know, men)

The ambitious, cunning, manipulative, power-hungry seductress. (‘cause, ya know, MEN)

Thanks to the delightful-and-not-at-all-destructive patriarchy, basically every piece of information about - and opinion on - Anne that we have was written by men entrenched in the patriarchal ideas. And of course these ideas include the classic Virgin/Whore dichotomy.

***For those of you unfamiliar, it basically says that all women are either hapless virgins or seductive whores and that, no matter which the case may be, everything bad that has ever happened is a woman’s fault.

So - besides the obvious problems with these two views - we are left with an Anne Boleyn whose actions were speculated about within these two mindsets. Therefore, rumors and unconfirmed stories began to circulate and grow into myths that have been taken and studied as facts over the years (ie, Anne’s sixth finger, Boleyn incest, witchcraft, and many more) Even to the point where the new Netflix Sabrina reboot has invoked Anne Boleyn’s name twice as a powerful witch of old.

*Insert facepalm here*

Not only are we left with these two images of Anne, but both are incredibly bland and two-dimensional. She sounds more like the heroine or villain of a melodrama than an actual human being.

And Anne Boleyn was a real, living, breathing, thinking, desiring, woman. Not a cardboard cutout painted in whatever image some person desires.

All of this combined with my research provided me with my marching orders for her creation as the main character for my musical: Make her a person.

My Own Tomorrow

Folks, this was the hardest part of all.

Why?

People are complex. People are both good and bad. People do both good and bad things.

Likable humans can make gigantic mistakes and commit terrible atrocities. Despicable humans can create long-lasting charities and perform incredible acts of kindness.

Everyone is both good and bad and, normally in character creation, this isn’t an issue - it’s exciting! But where Anne Boleyn is concerned, her male-written legacy means that most people already have a strong opinion about her - positive or negative - and whether or not they even know they do.

For instance, whenever I ask most people what they know about Anne Boleyn, they can tell me that she was Henry VIII’s second wife and was beheaded. Well, we as a society have created general opinions about both second wives and people who are put to death, so even that bare bones information colors how we see this woman, even before the curtain rises.

So what to do?

The question I kept asking myself was: Why do we want to care?

There is an odd intersection between the aforementioned two versions of Anne that really isn’t all that strange if you think about it:

In one version Anne has no control.

In the other version Anne has all of the control.

So it made sense to me that the truth was somewhere between, which sounded a lot like the constant, everyday struggle of basically every person I know: We all want the freedom to have control over our own lives and destinies, but are constantly struggling against the forces that hold us back.

There it is. Now that is something we can all connect to.

All Anne Boleyn wanted was to be able to control her own destiny, whatever that would end up being and whatever the consequences of the actions she took to get there.

She wanted her own tomorrow.

A Tudor Rose

From there it was suddenly much easier to write Anne as a character.

She is an ambitious person who is highly educated, strong-willed, cunning, and witty, and she wants all of the freedoms that her current situations will not provide her. How would this person act and react?

We can identify with this person, which immediately makes her likable. Always a good thing.

Then again, we may find her extremely abrasive at times. Which only makes us want to like her more.

Occasionally she does terrible things. So we anguish as we wish she made a better choice.

Sometimes she makes the perfect choice. And we relish in her triumphs.

She struggles. We root for her.

She fails. We hurt for her.

She succeeds. We cheer for her.

One of the best things I have learned in the process of writing Anne Boleyn is that we love stories that remind us of our own humanity. The good/bad dichotomy is not the way of the world and it’s therefore far less interesting. We are all a mixture of both, and to see that reflected on the stage is extremely engaging.

At least, I hope that’s who my Anne Boleyn has become.

The other element of Anne that is rarely discussed is her motherhood. By all (lack of) accounts, Anne was not terribly involved in Elizabeth’s upbringing, but we have no information that confirms this. And Elizabeth grew up to be very much like both her mother and her father, and it’s clear from the sources that Anne had a large influence on Elizabeth.

It was incredibly important to me that we see Anne as a mother.

Every mother I’ve ever spoken with has told me about this incredible bond that one has upon giving birth. A special, indescribable bond that cannot be broken. A pure kind of love.

And we can all identify with some sort of feeling of love.

Whether or not this moment in the show endears you toward Anne, if this idea doesn’t humanize her for you, I’m not sure what will.

A Queen Of England

Alright, let’s talk about it. I knew we would have to.

Anne’s death.

The biggest argument I hear from people when discussing Anne as a positive entity, or as the neutral entity that most real human beings are, is: “But Henry beheaded her! She had to have been bad in some way!”

But is this true? Does she have to have been a bad person in some way? Meaning, more so than any of us, that is.

I don’t think this has to be true. I mean, bad things are done to good people all the time.

But beyond that, Henry wanted something and Anne was in his way. And he didn’t have a decade to waste on fighting her as he did with his first wife - he was getting on in age and still had need of acquiring a son. If Anne had said “no, never” to the idea of divorce, couldn’t this be enough?

The charges against her were clearly fabricated - history has shown that. So why was she killed?

It’s one of my favorite mysteries of all time and, I think, one of the main reasons we revisit her story over and over again.

What’s my opinion on the matter?

Ehn, that’s unimportant. I’m more interested in what my audience’s opinion will be once they’ve sat through two hours of a complex and human Anne Boleyn’s journey. When we reach that final moment, what will you think? Did she earn her death?

Conclusion

Historical people are difficult to write. Famous people are difficult to write. When it’s a combination of both, it’s even harder.

But as we move closer to the premiere production of The King’s Legacy this summer, I’m proud of the Anne Boleyn who has appeared on the pages in front of me. She’s complicated and filled with contradictions, just like all of us.

I hope you can make it to our show this summer so you can see and judge for yourself. If you do come, I cannot wait to hear what you think of Anne and I certainly hope that you will share your opinion with me!

Tickets available here: www.bvtnaples.org

See you in August!

[definitelynotaminion]

Hey baby, how are you doing? Right now it's October 26th at 4:57 a.m. and I'm in bed next to you. Twice now I've gone over to cuddle you and you let me, wrapped my arm with your hand and just let me stay there with my face in your shoulder, close enough to hear you breathe. I ever tell you that sometimes I try to match my breathing to yours when you're asleep, see if it helps me sleep? But when we sleep our breaths are a lot longer with more space between them, and I would always do it for a few minutes and give up. But for those few minutes it calmed me right down. Kind of a meditation, I guess. I did it for the first time back at our apartment. I did it earlier when I tucked into your side and you met me with open arms despite being asleep. You're so affectionate in your sleep; I love it. (We all know I'm mean af, more likely to punch you in my sleep than be sweet). It's October 26th but it's really October 25th’s night, because I haven't been to sleep. My birthday was yesterday and we had cake. I'm laying in bed next to you thinking that there’s still cake in the fridge; funfetti, my favorite. I might go have a piece. I went to the gym at your urging; back when you were awake, but drowsy from the melatonin, and I was wearing the work out clothes mom got me as a gift, and still had my socks on because I wanted to go the gym, too. We had just gotten back from Whataburger; you missed a meal that day and had 1200 calories to spare (It’s the day I woke up at like 3pm and immediately made chicken teriyaki over rice; you went for a walk and I made my own teriyaki sauce, because the watery stuff in the fridge smelled off and I have standards. It was delicious. It's the day we took my car to Whataburger later, and I mentioned that it was odd I hadn't been to McDonald's on my birthday for once; you countered that you had offered, however jokingly. I kept joking that we should go to KFC because it was only 9:25, and surely KFC was still open, as though you hadn't spent the whole time we lay in bed discussing food looking up the calories for the specific meal you wanted. I had my hair in a ridiculous pebbles-style ponytail on top of my head, that I removed and smoothed out when we got inside. I was wearing a star wars jacket over my track suit hoodie over a tee shirt.) You gave me your drink cup so I could have two drink refills on the way home, and not have to choose. I filled my larger cup with lemonade-- shit, I brought it to bed with me about an hour ago but havent drank any; I just fucking realized lol-- and your smaller one with Dr. Pepper. It's still over there on my desk. You probably knew I wouldn't drink it but knew that the opportunity would make me happy anyway. We chilled in bed and I kept my socks on, for once, because I was determined to go to the gym, and you were determined to encourage me instead of enabling me to stay in bed. You're a lovely person that way. I did go to the gym, by the way, as I'm sure I'll tell you in the morning when you wake up (or at 3 o'clock in the evening, if that's when I wake up, if I fall asleep without meaning to). (You made jokes about the socks, but ten minutes into our blogging and chill, your foot brushed my leg in such a way that the hem of my pants rode up, and you touched bare flesh, and turned into Skeletor “Noooaa! What was that. Unexpected. Forbidden.”) It’s the day after my birthday but it’s also the first day I’m away at basic training, if tungle dot hellfire scheduled the post properly. (I swear to god, if it didnt... esp after all those tests I scheduled before I left.) (You just rolled over in your sleep to face me and your arm is pressed firm and soft to my elbow. For the first few seconds after the roll you snored softly through your nose-- very cute-- but now it's just little inhales and exhales. The forearm to my elbow is a very understated cuddle. I'm love him. You're so used to sleeping with me that you don't react or wake when I press close to you, you just accept it and sometimes nuzzle me. You'll hold my hand if I touch your fingers.) I am the most loved person in all the land, and right now I’m probably trying to remember that, shoved in a room with sixty people and no walls. (I keep remembering that this is public and then I'm like fuck it, a blog’s a blog; all the people here for my writing or the fandom stuff or the memes can deal with the lovey-dovey stuff and the waxing poetic about the minutiae of our lives. You're still tucked into my elbow breathing all cute and I'm still typing on my phone, which is on 26%; I should charge it but the charger sticks out the bottom in a way that makes it hard to rest the phone on my chest. It's a running joke now that I never keep my phone charged; that I only charge it when it's on 5%. Actually, at your urging-- though I laugh when you lean over me and hiss at the percentage, though we joke a lot about it-- I've started being more conscious of it, charging my phone before it needs it. Earlier today (the 25th) I put my phone on the charger when it was at 56%. I don't think I told you, but I know you'd be proud of me. (Earlier today I put my phone on the charger in preparation for going to the gym, and it was at 32%. I laid in bed with you to play on it and when it was at 39% you leaned over, already victorious, and said “oh? Only 39%? Put him on the charger!!!!” The exclamation marks are in italics to mimic the way you tapped it, rapidly, you know the motion. And I told you it was already charging and you were deeply shooketh, like I was an imposter. You squinted and said “well it's so small, how could I possibly see from here” in the Grinch voice, and rolled over dramatically; laughing, I chased you, and we cuddled some more. It was a lovely time.) It is (at the time you're reading this) the Tuesday I’ve officially had a “full day” at basic. I think. I probably had my first plane ride today, though if I've talked to you-- they let us make the “scripted” phone call on the first or second night-- it says “hello, I'm fine, I got here safe, he's a phone number to call in an emergency (red cross? Reddit said) and here's the address you write to”-- I only had like 30 seconds or so on the phone to choke all that out and an “I love you”. I couldn't tell you about my first plane ride. I could not tell you that “it wasn't actually as bad as anticipated, though you know I tear up when I get yelled at, so that's a thing.” According to the internet I probably sounded miserable; not because I was literally miserable but because hearing your voice probably made everything really sink in and i missed you. Also right now typing this i have like. A single manful movie tear rolling down the right cheek. Truly I am getting all up in my feelings-- but you're in an empty bed so you'd know, I guess. On the 26th, not Nov 6th, that is. I have no idea if I'm crying as you read this; but I'm a dramatic hoe so it's possible. I'm probably chanting to myself “It’s fine, it's whatever; play the game, don't stand out, go from meal to meal.” however, I have it from reliable sources (thanks reddit) that by the second or third week the yelling gets less yelling and you have the routine down. Then it's kind of like a hardcore summer camp. As I'm laying in bed it's hard to rationalize that I've only got 10 days with you left. A week and some change. The impulse to savor it is there but, also, I've literally got the rest of my life with you, so. I’m looking forward to the other side of basic, to how you can (apparently) have your dependents moved out to live with you if your stay at tech school will be longer than 6 weeks. And mine will, so. (If you're not in basic and I selfishly hope you're not, yet, you can come out there and I can spend my weekends with you, in our apartment with all of our stuff. I want lots of dice and candles. I want to just lay in bed and chill with you. “Cuddle” I want to cuddle but I keep remembering that this is public on my blog and everyone can see it. I wonder why cuddle sounds so weird when none of the other words do. I wonder how fast the first week will go if I keep focusing on “just wait until the next meal, just wait until the next meal.” I'm planning to go buy a book of stamps and some envelopes in the morning. Apparently one of the only joys of basic is hearing your name at mail call. I want you to write me so much, which is hard for you probably; but I want to hear about every little detail. You should print off the latest chapters of Yesterday Upon the Stair or Ashes of the Past if they update, stick those behind your letters. It would make a good distraction and only be a couple pages long. But how weird would it be that i wouldn't even care about them? Not weird at all. Its true that i would care about your letters more that the fanfic. That I just want to hear that you're safe and happy, that you've eaten-- tell me what you've eaten, tell me the calories, it'll reassure me and fill the pages-- tell me jokes and memes and manga spoilers for BNHA. Pass along news from-- or hell, even tell them my mailing address, it's not like it'll be secret-- the discord (kink thinktank or maybe the secret lounge, you know the one). I'm not picky. It will be neat not to be cut off from everybody, if they decide to write. Except tuva. @uintuva I love you but please god don't write to me, I told them I didn't have any foreign attachments when they asked. If anything, pass along a letter to Sach, or Dallas-- have them print it and send it to me; mention no countries. I'm laughing rn. I'll warn them that you'll post the address. If you post a letter every day, or every other day, even if they're short, I promise I'll appreciate them. They'll be like a lifeline to the outside world. They'll reassure me you're fine and assuage me that stress and worry. Please remember that I love you, even if I didn't get to tell you in the short phone call. I likely called you before the flight there. It hasn't even been a day since you've heard my voice. Hell, I forgot-- you and mom and the kids are coming to see me off. I probably saw you earlier today-- for you. It's still October 26 (25th) for me. You saw me this morning but now you're going to sleep without me; it probably doesn't feel weird unless you focus on it. I could be in the shower, or in the kitchen, or at the gym. I could be at Brittany’s house. It's okay to tell yourself these lies, or to imagine me there-- imagine me at my desk, maybe, since you go to bed so much earlier-- to make yourself feel better, to help you sleep. Or maybe it hadn't hit yet and you're fine-- that's fine too. Or maybe you'll be okay the whole time. You'll miss me, sure. But maybe you'll smile and wish me luck and go to sleep easy, because I'm getting what I wanted, according to plan. I hope you find the happy parts of your days-- laugh at the kids, at David, and Jesse-- and write down jokes to share with me before you forget. Don't feel guilty at all, because I don't want you to be sad. I love you. I'm going to try to be looking forward to stuff/focusing on the nice things-- I just snorted a little thinking of you going “whole bed to myself” in the silly smug voice; I can already tell that one is going to be what I imagine at basic, the one I'll remember and smile about. I hope you check your tag and see this, though I'm sure I'll tell you about it. Aren't I so clever, figuring out how to write you even if they don't let me write you? I also set posts to schedule, funny things I scrolled past. The usual things that fill your tag. This way you know I'm still thinking of you; it's funny because I always tag you in things, right now in October, because I want you to know I'm thinking of you. Because I see funny things and think “Dallas” and I want you to see them. I'm so glad the technology exists for me to make sure your tag has new stuff every night while I'm away. I'm going to spend the next ten days (from Oct 26) writing you letters and reminding you of things. (Earlier I told you that I love you, that I love how we talk to each other, that I love the way you joke and how, specifically, you choose to say things to me; that I love how my face fits into your shoulder or your face, that the terms you choose to use tickle me pink. I laugh all the time with you. I'm happiest right next to you. I want to be with you forever.) Oh and here is a reminder: I'm so proud of you for getting through the day. Goodbyes are hard, even when they're temporary. You're not fat and I love you. You could lose the weight you need to lose this month and I’d be happy for you; you could delete the app and gain twenty pounds and be my handsome military husband, and I’d be ecstatic. I love everything about you (freckles) and you can reread this as many times as you need to in the next few days. (Not that I'm saying you'll need to. You're very self sufficient. But if you do need the words, they're here, and there’s no shame in giving yourself what you need.) Day one is done and now I've got to get through the first week. The second will be easier and then, the third, routine. It'll be okay. Everything will be fine. I love you. I miss you. I'll be back before you know it. Please write. Even if it's just a single page with “the dankest of dank memes” on it in size bazillion handwriting. Even if it's unimportant. Especially if it's unimportant stuff. Go around and ask everyone to say one nice sentence to me. Write down the sentence. Now you've got a letter. Tell me about your thoughts and your day. Tell me (android 16 voice) you saw a bird and it was pretty.

[demiromantic-official]

I’m behind you all but here are my responses for the past two days.  Remember to participate and tag me if you want me to see it!

1.      Sunday, 21 October:

o   Describe your experience of finding out about asexuality/the ace spectrum.  What source(s) did you find it from? How did it feel to find out about asexuality? How did it change your life?

Like it would seem most others have, I find out about the asexual spectrum through tumblr, at the age of 16.  For years before, about when I began to be a teenager, I noticed that I wasn’t quite like my peers when it came to interest in impressing the opposite sex or trying to find a date.  This could end quite differently with me finding I am lesbian, except I hadn’t felt anything towards girls either and since I had grown up in church it was not an option that was presented to me. 

 I remember several distinct occasions of adult men mentioning to me and a group of girls, “Oh, you are probably fantasizing about your husband by now.” I wasn’t.  Were the others? I don’t know. Why should we, we are not in love yet, are we?” 

On another occasion, a woman was advising us not to be alone with a boy in his home or a private place, if we were planning to wait to marriage for sex, because “even the most ‘chaste’ boys and girls wouldn’t be able to refrain themselves if they were alone and had no one to answer to”.  Frankly, the only thing I could barely refrain from doing was snorting in derision.  I had thought to myself, “Even if I was put together with the prettiest boy in the world, I wouldn’t get close to touching him in a sensual or sexual well, much less let him do anything to me, even if he asked or initiated.”  I kept that thought to myself though, because I was young enough not to verbally question elders. 

One more distinct occasion, which may not precisely be linked to being on the ace spectrum, is when I was in a group discussion about what kind of person we would marry/date.  Others had lists of qualities they wanted--pretty, funny, smart--while I merely thought, “As long as we love each other and they treat me with respect and let me be my own person, what does it matter?” I listed a few traits anyway and jokingly said, “Not a loser”. As if I really have much thought on what, if anything, classifies someone as a loser.

Fast forward a couple years, where I had become more involved with the internet.  Previously I hadn’t really thought to label myself, since I was me and that was enough, and even if there was an inkling of a thought in my mind that sometimes said, “You’re weird; you’re not obsessed with boys like your peers” I had used that more as a strength because I was unique than anything else.  One day I saw a post that sadly no longer seems to exist, which listed things that people on the ace spectrum often think, like “You don’t even know them” in response to a friend wanting to bang a celebrity or pretty person at school, or thinking “I could die a virgin and be satisfied with my life”, and (maybe) “I’d much rather get dinner/a drink with them” when people talked about banging celebrities/characters.  At this point, everything clicked.  All the thoughts in that post were exactly things I had thought, but with different words.  I realized I was not the one weird human on the earth.  

By then too I had begun falling in love for the first time, after never so much as looking twice at people in any romantic or sexual way.  I found a few blogs and read a bit more, realizing that demisexual was the correct word. Immediately I sent the original post to my then best friend and said, “This is me.  I think I am demisexual.” to which she said, “heck, I can’t even imagine thinking like that but I get how you could, it totally fits you”.  We then made a few jokes about how I was [insert name of love interest]-sexual and in general both felt at peace since I had found I was not alone.

2.      Monday, 22 October:

o   Talk about your coming out experience.  Of course, one many never be finished coming out, but you could describe how you came out to friends, what reactions you have gotten, how you have felt by coming out, and more.

So...I didn’t precisely come out, since to me personally my sexuality in general is not something I should say directly but rather that people just learn by knowing me.  Straight allosexuals talk about the opposite sex, with no preamble, so I feel I have the right to just be me as well. However I have a couple small experiences. The first I listed about, so it need not be repeated.

The others were over two years later, when I began questioning in general with two (self-described) queer friends.  One even listed demisexual as an example, to which I replied, “I know of that one, I actually know I am that but I just don’t know who I have the potential to be attracted to.” She said something on the line of “Yeah I could see guess that”.  I don’t know if that came from me description of me or just knowing me, but it was a nice confirmation. The other friend (well ex-friend :/) basically said, “You do you”.

I came out to my now best friend most recently, since I didn’t know she knew what the word meant. She had talked a lot about crushes over a period and I mostly described myself in a demisexual/romantic way without using those words, until after a while I straight up said it.  A week later, we were driving in her car one evening when she brought it up and asked lots of questions, like what it was like liking someone for the first time, how I knew I liked them, what I thought about which genders I liked growing up, etc.  She then expressed curiosity for when I will like someone else and what their gender will be.  

Overall, my reception has been good though not all my friends know.

~ Please share your experience! Tag me if you want me to see/reblog (say so if you don’t want it reblogged).  Search “aaw” to find related posts and the prompts. ~

[deanssexplorations]

Dean’s Signature Sex Moves

The other day I was thinking about some of the things I tend to gravitate toward in the bedroom, and realized that over the past couple of years I’ve developed a few “signature moves.”

So I thought I’d share.

These are not necessarily the things I like the best (Kristy pointed out that 69ing is not on this list, even though it feels amazing) nor that I do the most (see The Massage Fuck, which I’ve only done once or twice). Instead these are the things that I think if you were in the bedroom blindfolded with me and I did them, you might think to yourself “oh yeah, that’s so Dean.”

In fact, I told my friend Cynthia my idea for this post, and despite the fact that she and I have only had sex once, she successfully guessed four of the top five. I guess I’m more predictable than I thought!

In reverse order, here are the top six:

#6 - The Massage Fuck

Okay, I’ve been using back massages as a vehicle to get women naked since high school/college (with remarkable success, especially back then), and not coincidentally, I have learned to give a decent back massage. Which I’ll gladly extend to a full body massage on request. With oil and all. But that’s not exactly what I’m getting at here.

This particular move I’ve only done once or twice but I enjoyed it so much, and she seemed to as well, that I need to make it a more regular part of the repertoire. Basically I was giving one of my lovely lady friends a nice back massage, complete with oil, and enjoying the view of her beautiful, round ass. With my full-on erection gently rubbing between her butt cheeks.

So I decided to take it up a notch. I had her angle her ass up very slightly, and with her legs still together I straddled her thighs and inserted my cock into her waiting pussy. All the while continuing the back massage. Applying firm, sensual pressure to back, neck and shoulders. And at the same time fucking her, my cock sliding rhythmically in and out in long, leisurely strokes.  It was super hot. I gotta do that one again soon.

‘Course, she seemed to like it quite a bit as well.

#5 - Pictures and Videos

This one is cheating, sort of, since it’s not a move or a position. But I do love taking pics and videos. Just about any picture from any angle is fun, but since I’m the one taking the pictures, I mostly take point of view stuff. Looking down at her pussy as my cock goes in and out. Pics of her tits as she cups them in her arms. Artfully arranged shots of her giving me a blow job with her face obscured just enough not to be sufficiently recognizable.

I do like mirrors. I’ve had several encounters lately with mirrored closet doors, which provides new angles for exploration.

I did have a fun offer in Beijing, which I have not yet written about, but it was a follow on to the German in Beijing story in which a Chinese girl offered to take videos of me and my German friend, Amelie. Unfortunately Amelie wasn’t into it so it never happened. And at one point my MFFFF was going to have a designated picture taker but the lineup changed and everyone ended up participating. Which was pretty darn good too. Beside, we still managed to take plenty of pictures.

The other cool thing about pictures and videos is once the encounter is documented, I get to relive the experience afterward. Who wouldn’t want to do that?

;-)

#4 - Cock on Clit

I was with Rachel, my friend in Israel. Taking a break between rounds of sex, she idly reached down and started rubbing my cock against her clit. Not really with any sort of purpose, just sort of playing around.

Needless to say, it was incredibly hot. And got me hard pretty quickly. And moved us along to the next round of sex. But I still remember that and how nice it felt, and I’ve started doing it a lot with my partners lately.

I’ll often do it while we’re fucking. I’ll pull out and instead of re-inserting my cock into her vagina, I’ll rub it up and down between her labial lips, the bottom of my cock rubbing against her clit. It seems to drive my partners crazy. Partly because I think it’s a huge tease, having my cock right there but not in her pussy. But I’m sure it feels pretty cool rubbing against her clit. And it hits a very sensitive spot on my cock, so enhances my pleasure as well.

Just the other day I drove myself and my partner to the brink of orgasm with that move alone, at the last minute moving my cock into her waiting pussy just in time for both of us to explode.  It was great.

#3 - Edge of the Bed

Alright, this is a really big one for me. Anyone who knows me IRL will probably roll her eyes in agreement, and anyone who’s read enough of my blog will have come across this one before. My partner and I can be going at it, fucking away in the middle of the bed, and I’ll take her by the legs and move her to the edge, so her back and her butt are still on the bed, but her legs are sticking over the edge (or she can put them up on my arms or shoulders if she prefers).

I then stand on the floor and fuck her. Which is an amazing position. Most beds are around the right height for me to stand comfortably, and I can always adjust my height a bit by spreading my legs out or standing slightly on my toes. And it gives me incredible control. Over all sorts of stuff. The angle of penetration, depth (I can go a lot deeper with that one than most any other position), and pace.

And the icing on the cake is that I get a fantastic, bird’s-eye view. Starting with my lovely date’s face, down to her tits and stomach, all the way to her beautiful pussy, with my cock pounding away at it.

I’m not sure why this doesn’t seem to be one of the more common sex positions for most people.  You should give it a try if it’s not part of your repertoire.

# 2 - Simultaneously Sucking and Licking Her Clit

This is another big one. I’ve always been a huge fan of cunnilingus. I feel it’s one of the most intimate things you can do with a woman, if not the most intimate. She’s completely opening herself up to you and it can be an intense source of pleasure for her. And it’s incredibly enjoyable to me.

There are a few things I like to do when going down on a woman. First and foremost I like to just take my time. It’s not a race; it’s a journey, and half of the fun is getting there. Beside, going slow teases her and (it seems) heightens the eventual payoff. Another thing I like to do is to insert a finger or two when I get to the point of licking her labia and clit her out. Simultaneous stimulation of her clit and vagina seems to go over well. These are both things I’ve done for many years.

One thing I’ve experimented with much more recently, however, and which both my partners and I seem to be enjoying, is to use suction to maximum advantage. When I eventually make my way to her clit, I usually start out in a fairly standard mode, with light pressure and lots of back and forth motion with my tongue. But when she’s well aroused, I’ll surround the area around her clit with my lips and apply gentle suction. I can feel her clit get more engorged and I can only imagine that the sensation she’s experiencing.

Then, while still applying suction, I like to resume the gentle back and forth motion with my tongue. This seems to deliver a double-whammy between the sucking and the licking. And if nothing else, it definitely exposes more of her clit to my tongue, allowing me to maximize that part of the experience.

I don’t know first hand what this sucking technique does to the experience of course, but it seems to be a real winner from what I can tell. And if my female friends enjoy themselves more, then I enjoy myself more. It’s a win all around. So I expect this one will continue to stay on Dean’s must-do list for a while!

#1 - Triple Defilement

This is the most recent addition to the mix, and is one I’m having a lot of fun with. With the amount of “sport fucking” I’ve done over the past five years or so, I often think that my partners didn’t want to be kissed while I was fucking them. That somehow it was too intimate. Like the fucking is fun, but kissing introduces a different level of intimate involvement.

But most of my FWBs are fabulous kissers, and I do love to kiss a woman. There are a few with whom I can spend an hour or more (or so it seems) just kissing and fucking them simultaneously. I started doing it with Wendy in particular, and enjoy it so much that I’ve started to do it with all my partners. And they seem to be enjoying it as much as I do.

And since we’re already kissing and fucking at the same time, which are two of the most intimate things you can do, I decided why not just go the rest of the way and grab her tit at the same time? Hence the move I think of as “triple defilement” - cock in her pussy, lips and tongues locked in intimate embrace, and my hand taking full advantage of her breasts. All at the same time.

I think of it as taking advantage of her three most intimate/erogenous zones all at the same time - pussy, mouth, and tits. It’s like she’s as exposed as it’s possible to me, every erotic area all laid bare and free for my taking. It gives me such a thrill.  And best of all, my partners all seem to like it every bit as much as I do. Yet another win/win, and something I’ll definitely be using going forward.

Now, if I can just work on my flexibility so I can reach her ass with my foot...

[datavan]

Cassandra Demo

In this second blog post, I am going to show everyone how to create your very own 3 node Cassandra cluster. You will have to have some items set up beforehand. The first item that will need to be created are three different virtual machines, each with a working operation system. In this exercise, I have created three different VM using the VMware Work Station; each with a working Linux Ubuntu OS. (Why Linux Ubuntu? No real reason, I just like that OS. Beware that for different OS, there will be different commands that I might not cover).

The second item that will need to be set up is a two-parter. Both the Java Development Kit and the Python Software Development Kit need to be functional in each VM, for Cassandra to be able to execute properly. In this exercise, I have installed the most current stable version the JDK available. The only thing I will mention, in case anyone is following along with the blog, do remember to include the following line of code in your .bashrc user profile file:

#$ export PATH=$PATH:~/Documents/jdk1.8.0_202/bin

It is the only way Cassandra will recognize that the JDK is running on your OS.

As for the Python SDK, that is a whole another animal all together. The following commands (2 commands) need to be entered on command line, within the Python directory:

#$ ./configure --prefix=/usr/local

#$ make

Once this is done, the source code for Python itself has been compiled. You will also need to download PIP, which lets you manage libraries, directories and drivers for Python. Now with the way Python works, you can have several versions of Python present on the same OS. You need to make sure the version you are working with is Python 2.7 (Documentation does say that it supports 3.6, 3.7 and 3.8). The last item you will download for the SDK is the Cassandra-driver, which lets the python interpreter talk to the ./cqlsh program (more on that later).

#$ pip install cassandra-driver.

Why both Java and Python? Cause nothing in programming in ever truly easy. Java is what your Cassandra node uses to execute its programming, because Cassandra itself was written in Java. Now, the CQL Shell or cqlsh for short is the command line shell use to interact with your Cassandra nodes. Python is the native protocol driver for this shell. There is indication when I read the cqlsh documentation, that other languages can be used for talking to the cqlsh; but for the purposes of this blog I will be using Python. I did not go into further research about that particular topic.

The last item you need to research before we can further and start the set up of our Cassandra nodes, is probably the most complicated one of them all. You need to find out the IP address for each of the VM. A simple ip addr, will do the trick. The three ip address for my VM are the following:

Cassandra Node 1 – 192.168.8.135

Cassandra Node 2 – 192.168.8.136

Cassandra Node 3 – 192.168.8.137

Once, the VMs are setup (each with a working OS, JDK, SDK and the IP address are recorded) Cassandra can finally be downloaded. I am working with the latest stable version of Cassandra 3.11.10. Once unzip, the configuration file cassandra.yaml is the only thing that needs to be modified and/or touched.

Just a quick intro before we move on. YAML (or YAML Ain’t Markup Language) is a human-readable data-serialization language, commonly used for configuration files where data is being sorted or transmitted. I just wanted to make sure everyone knows that bit of information; there is a lot more to YAML.

With that out of the way, we are going to start setting up our first Cassandra Node, or cass1. There are several things that can to be configured, but there are only two decision that have to be made in this YAML file (When looking from the perspective of this test cluster, in industry a lot more settings would be considered). The first decision is naming the cluster; for the cluster to work, all of the cluster nodes must have a shared name between them. Its how they first recognize themselves within the cluster ring. In my case, I used the cluster name ‘INTP – 362’.

Cluster Name

It is important that you make the name simple and easy to reproduce. My first test cluster had a more complicated name in the intent to be funny, and two of my nodes would not “gossip” to one another (more on gossiping later). And I used copy and paste, which sometimes does not work.

Once the cluster name is decided on. The next decision are the seed nodes and non-seed nodes. A seed node serves two functions:

When a new node joins the cluster, it will learn about the topology of the cluster or ring by contacting a seed node.

 They are also what assist other nodes in gossip convergence.

A seed node is still not a single point of failure; if a seed node “dies”, a cluster can survive without. I choose cass1 and cass2 to be my seed nodes. It is industry standard to at least have 3 seed nodes per cluster; the typical small sized cluster is around 5 nodes. Since, I only have 3 nodes, I decide to just do 2 seed nodes to demonstrate what they do. To set up the seed nodes, the IP address for each of the selected nodes are to be place, in between the double quotes; separate by commas but with no spaces in between (see image below).

Seed Nodes

With the seeds nodes and the cluster name taken care of, the basic decision-making process to get this cluster running is done. I do want to point out that there are many other settings and configurations that can be made through this YAML file. Everything from how many concurrent read or write can be done at a time, which ports each node will use to communicate thought TCP/UDP (Ports 7000, 9042), what is a cache size for different types of operations; so many different settings I am not getting into because really there is no time. But I will speak about to two particular settings that gave a lot of problems for several days. Those are Listen Address and RPC Address.

Just to expand out knowledge base, RPC is a framework or set of tools that allow programmer to call a piece of code in a remote process. Again, there is a lot more to this framework; but that is the bare minimum just to understand why this address is important.

As a default, Listen Address and RPC Address come with the value ‘Localhost’; which should work since they do use the localhost to work. They even suggest just leaving it blank, since that will activate:

InetAddress.getLocalHost()

A protocol that will find the local IP address of the machine and retrieve for use. Except its not reliable, it even mentioned in the configuration file that it might not work. The documentation for both Cassandra and the YAML configuration file does not, to my knowledge, ever mention how to deal with this.  Why do I mention this? Because in this case, the nodes will not actually wake up (at least in my experience). The actual best thing to do, is to actually use the IP Address number itself. My lesson learned here is that sometimes hardcoding an important value is necessary.

What is going on in the background is that the nodes can’t gossip. What is gossip? It’s the protocol that Cassandra uses to communicate between nodes. It’s a peer-to-peer system, that periodically exchanges state information about themselves and about other nodes in the ring. Basically, Cassandra nodes are just gossiping all the time, about how they are doing.

The gossiping protocol is very similar to the TCP three-way handshake; so much so that in the Cassandra server start up process, it is called a handshake. In the image below, you can the different Cassandra nodes handshaking each other.

Handshake

I think that is enough for now about the YAML configuration file; there is a lot more to it, entire Wikipedia pages just dedicated to explaining each one of the different settings. We are moving to yet another program that needs to be install for Cassandra to run. Why didn’t I mention this one before? Because its not mentioned anywhere (Note: I am not bitter about this).

iptables is this cool linux utility that lets you block or allow traffic, it’s a neat firewall. Cassandra needs it install and running to be able to gossip to other nodes. In iptables, there are policy chains, which are:

Input - this is for incoming connections.

Forward - incoming connections not being delivered locally, think a router.

Output - this is for outgoing connections.

Now, I only had so much time to actually research iptables and all its useful commands. Due to time constraints I concentrated on understanding the command I needed to run my Cassandra nodes. The command is:

#$ sudo iptables -A INPUT -p tcp -s 192.168.8.135 -m multiport --dports 7000,9042 -m state --state NEW,ESTABLISHED -j ACCEPT

A – Type of policy

p – Type of connection the protocol uses

s – Is the IP address to listen for

m multiport – is when there are multiple ports

dport – The ports to listen for

m state – The state of the connection (The only states I know of are NEW and ESTABLISHED)

j – Is the command for the response policy (Accept, Drop or Reject)

This command must be done on each node, with the other nodes IP address (so the command must be entered twice in each node). Finally, Cassandra will be run. There is an order to these things. Seed nodes must be woken up first before non-seed nodes, it is the only caveat to waking up Cassandra nodes to start gossiping.

To confirm that the nodes are running and gossiping, Cassandra comes with application called nodetool. The application will take different commands, the only one we care about at the moment is the status command.

Nodetool program

The UN means Up and Normal, which is really the piece of information we care about. This means each node on the rack is running. Since we have confirmed all the Cassandra nodes are up and running. The CQL shell program can be started. In the bin directory, the following commands needs to be typed:

#$ ./cqlsh 192.168.8.135

The IP address at the end of the command must be the IP address of the node you want to access. As you can see from the image below, I am still in Cassandra node 1. But I am able to access another Cassandra node though its IP address.

Accessing different nodes

With the CQL shell running, we can finally explore the CQL language. It is very similar to SQL, super similar. It is basically the same thing (at least syntax-wise it does not behave the same way), with some key exception. All the relational part of SQL is non-existent in CQL. That means no JOINS, no FOREIGN KEYS, none of that stuff. But the following commands, are all permissible (and again Syntax is the same, but the behavior of the command might be different):

Alter

Create

Delete

Insert

Select

Update

Where

There are more commands, I am just showcasing the classic ones. Let’s start with the creation of a KEYSPACE (Database in the SQL world). The command is the following:

#$ CREATE KEYSPACE test WITH replication = {‘class’:’SimpleStrategy’, ‘replication_factor’ : 3};

Finally, replication at work. There are two replication classes. The SimpleStrategy class, which will assign the same replication factor to the entire cluster. This is used for evaluation purposes, single data center test (Like what I am doing in this blog), and development environments. In industry they use the second class, called ‘NetworkTopologyStrategy’. This strategy is for assigning the replication factor to each data center in a comma separated list, giving you more flexibility and control. The Data center names must match the snitches data center name. In a real data center, there are snitch nodes; in basic terms the snitch determines which data centers and racks nodes belong to. The snitch allows network topology to be discovered, thus making routing more efficient.

A note about replication factor for both strategies, the number does not have match the number of nodes present in your cluster. It is not a requirement for the command to run. There can be a KEYSPACE with a replication factor of 2, in a 5 nodes cluster. It is documented that it is recommended that your replication factor does not exceed the number of nodes present in your cluster (But again this will not cause any immediate problems). The following command is not recommended, with my current cluster set up:

#$ CREATE KEYSPACE test WITH replication = {‘class’:’SimpleStrategy’, ‘replication_factor’ : 4};

But it is permissible. Why? The idea of scaling. I could start setting up KEYSPACEs with replication factor of 4 in my cluster right now, and add a new node (cass4) in the future.

Now that we have our KEYSPACE set up. We can now proceed to create a table and inserting some data.

#$ CREATE TABLE student (name text PRIMARY KEY, id int, age int);

#$ INSERT INTO student(name,id,age) VALUES (‘alex’,105,32);

With everything set up correctly, we can see the replication happening. I used cass1 to insert my data. And the KEYSPACE, TABLE and data was replicated into the other nodes.

Cassandra Node 1 – test data

Cassandra Node 2 – test data

Cassandra Node 3 – test data

As observed in all three different nodes, the student table is present.

The last cool thing I am going to show you, is how UPDATEs are a bit different in CQL vs SQL. In SQL an UPDATE command is both a read and a write; and this is important to note, because it first reads the tablespace and if the WHERE clause is not present the UPDATE will not happen. In CQL, the UPDATE command is only a write. This means that if the WHERE clause of an UPDATE command is based on a primary key (see example below), the UPDATE will happen as an INSERT if the row does not exist. I will showcase this in action, in the demo video.

UPDATE command in CQL

I hope this blog brought to light some of the lessons I learned while trying to navigate my way through Cassandra. Lessons like the value of documentation, but that ultimately there might be vital information missing; further research into some unexpected places might be need; and even some trial and error might be a possible avenue. I also hope I help shed some light on the world of NOSQL, and the cool application (cool to me at least) that is Cassandra.

Thank you so much for reading my blog

Here is the Demo Video.

[nardaviel]

Part 3 / ?, wherein they go camping, much to Kinshirou’s dismay.

This is a long, image-heavy post. I’ve had it ready since like December but I never bothered to post it until now because I stopped playing the game for a while and I’m lazy. If you’re reading this on my blog and it’s done the obnoxious thing where it doesn’t show readmores, just click the date <3

You probably don’t remember where we left off because it’s been ages since the last post. I didn’t remember either. En had just gotten his second promotion in a few days; the game continued to insist on sending him home from work in an awkward outfit on promotion days. Kinshirou had just published his etiquette manual, and I had finally learned how to keep Atsushi from being miserable when he got home from work. However, En and Atsushi’s work schedules still kept them from spending much time together as a group.

En’s latest work of art is a beautiful, subtle masterpiece. I know that because I, an ignorant philistine, see the art of a 6-year-old, but an art gallery was interested enough to pay $50 more than he usually gets for large paintings.

This is kind of sweet, but he and En aren’t even engaged yet. Calm down, Kinshirou. It’s amazing how well the game knows them asd;lfk

Atsushi has been promoted to caterer!! A $10/hour raise so that his hourly wage is no longer a pittance, a $368 bonus, and a coffeepot. His work hours start an hour earlier and end two hours earlier, which still isn’t very good :\ but look, he’s so proud of himself.

To get to the next level of his career, he has to start learning to mix drinks. I’ve dreaded this moment because the last time I bought someone a bar to level mixology, they never wanted to do anything else again except mix drinks. I took it away in the end.

Kinshirou wakes up, sees that En’s gone, and goes to find him in the bathroom just so that he can kiss his cheek.

Since he’s awake now anyway, En paints an Enatsu painting and then a Kinatsuen painting, one after another. I can’t bring myself to sell either of them. The Kinatsuen one is going to stay where it is, but I’m putting the Enatsu one in Atsushi’s room, because it’s kind of bare at the moment.

En’s suave kiss is different than Kinshirou’s was. I assume it’s because he and Atsushi aren’t boyfriends yet? But Atsushi still seems charmed.

And now that they’ve drawn my attention to that oversight, Atsushi asks En to be his boyfriend.

You can imagine your own dialogue here. You’re all so dirty-minded.

En is into it, though.

He immediately kisses Atsushi on the cheek. I’m glad all the Sims think that’s as cute as I do.

Now they can all go on a much-deserved(???) vacation :D En and Atsushi have to take some vacation days to do it, but they want to spend some time together as a triad.

They’re going camping! For four days. It’s cheap, and they’re still a little broke. En and Atsushi are nervous, but willing to give it a try. Kinshirou...

..yeah.

Their home away from home. There are cabins and houses you can rent, but... like I said. They’re broke.

Kinshirou decides to start his vacation by practicing horseshoes. If this is all they have for entertainment, he’s going to master it.

But En doesn’t like that attitude.

En: Come on, cheer up, it’ll be fun. Kinshirou: Hmm... Maybe so, then.

Kinshirou: ...but I’ll still win at this game. Move.

As you can see behind them, Atsushi has been setting up their tents.

He’s also the only one to introduce himself to the park ranger. In other words, he continues to be the only useful Sim.

En is a miracle worker wtf

Once Atsushi’s done the boring stuff, he can join his boyfriends and spend his time being cute and flirty, as was the point of this vacation.

Kinshirou lights the fire for no reason. You’d think after part two, he’d have seen enough fire.

En... get up. What if Atsushi drops that horseshoe?

He does get up, finally. He has important painting to do.

Yes, I did add the easel to the lot before I brought them here. This vacation is costing $3 more per night than it otherwise would have.

So much excitement for a mediocre toss. And Atsushi can’t pretend to be impressed because he’s besieged by bugs.

Maybe En is trying to develop a style reminiscent of a young child’s?

Meanwhile, Kinshirou is still struggling with horseshoes.

So it’s easy, but you’re still bad at it? Got it.

Atsushi reassures him until he’s not embarrassed anymore...

...so now snobbish boredom is his dominant emotion. Look at that face. Why does anyone tolerate him?

If you’re wondering where En went, he’s taking a shower in here.

Atsushi’s first attempt at grilling!

En is drawn back by the promise of Atsushi’s excellent-quality(!!) baked potatoes. They’re sparkling! Atsushi’s so happy :D

Happy boyfriends, although Atsushi is again plagued by bugs.

Help him

Kinshirou wanders off in the middle of a conversation and goes to sleep. En is glad to have an excuse to do to the same.

Atsushi goes to the bathroom, but doesn’t return. When I check on him, I find him like this:

He’s stargazing. <3 But that’s not the spot I would have chosen, myself.

The next morning, Atsushi happily makes breakfast. He seems to be moving past any fire-related trauma from his near-death experience in part two.

Kinshirou also goes to the bathroom and doesn’t return. When I find him, not only is he making unnecessary food, he’s making exactly the same thing as Atsushi, except

wth a lot less skill behind it.

He burns himself. :c Just go eat breakfast with the others, Kinshirou.

Kinshirou: En, isn’t Atchan wonderful? He makes the best food, and he’s always so kind...

En: Yeah, you’re right. Atsushi’s great.

Atsushi looks so embarrassed... Change the subject, guys.

They’ve ventured out to the national park! They’re learning how to fish in case Atsushi ever wants to use fish in a meal.

They keep gaining friendship with each other and with this girl, even though none of them have said a word. Maybe words aren’t necessary when you’re fishing buddies.

Kinshirou catches two fish before either of the others catch anything. So when Atsushi catches one...

...he’s super excited.

Finally, to En’s incredulous annoyance, it becomes clear that he won’t catch anything in that spot.

Poor En-chan.

...poor En-chan.

There, back to normal.

Before they give up altogether on En learning to fish, they’ll try this one other spot. I just really want En to learn how to fish a;lskjf ...but the fish are too crafty for him here, too.

This is the face of a man who no longer cares.

Catching the fish made Atsushi confident, so he decides that En will be real impressed if he shows off his muscles. ...It’s sweet of En to humor him.

I see you back there, bear man. Fuck off.

I said fuck off.

If the last screenshot had you wondering, Kinshirou is telling an unbelievable story.

God damn it they’re all tense now

Kinshirou mocks the bear costume because I’m annoyed he’s annoyed about the situation. Then the three of them leave, so that they aren’t tense anymore.

Atsushi cooks his fish while En entertains them all with an adventure story :D

He follows up with a ghost story. Atsushi hangs on his every word.

Kinshirou chooses to find it amusing.

................ I forgot that ghost stories summon ghosts.

Oops.

He doesn’t stay long, though. The ghost that haunts the picnic table...

What has En done?!

En: Holy shit, my bad. Kinshirou: Well done, En. Good job.

Atsushi, in the background, is preoccupied. He’s exposing himself to the source of his fears in order to lessen the fear. No ghosts will get in the way of his exposure therapy.

They go back to their campsite, where the ghost is not. Kinshirou hopes that if he goes to sleep, he’ll be less freaked out about the ghost in the morning. En has other ideas for how to dispel his tension. Atsushi never even noticed the ghost to begin with, but he’s happy to go along with En.

...at which point I remember that this is the first Enatsu WooHoo! Congrats, guys. They get a happy moodlet from good WooHoo, as well, like En and Kinshirou did that once (except theirs was from “spectacular” WooHoo but ok whatever).

Kinshirou and Atsushi have never had a WooHoo so good they got a happy moodlet. I guess En is just really good at WooHoo.

Morning activities c:

Atsushi made this meal twice and it was poor quality both times. Fish tacos 2.0. At least he’s not so heartbroken about it this time.

This screenshot has no narrative value. I just thought it was cute.

The food was so bad it made them all feel sick... Oh, well. Atsushi is still learning.

En... I know you’re a slob, but there are limits...

“From the moist depths of the trash, En has recovered: 1 baconite.” Congratulations, En. Was it worth it.

It wouldn’t be a Kinatsuen Sims post without a screenshot of Atsushi looking distressed. This is why I put you in your tent to relax, Atsushi!! Just rest for a little while, you’ll feel better soon.

He takes it out on the bugs instead. I guess that works too.

This is the moodlet Kinshirou got after he and Atsushi WooHooed:

But this is Atsushi’s:

Kinshirou, you worry too much. Atsushi liked it, see? It looks like I spoke too soon about no happy moodlets from Kinatsu WooHoo, although it’d have been nice if they’d both gotten it.

But Kinshirou must not be too mortified, because he accepts Atsushi’s offer to be BFFs.

...and only afterwards did I realize that you can’t have multiple BFFs, and there’s no mod to make it possible. I guess it doesn’t matter too much, but poor En.

This is the only couple that hasn’t WooHooed in a tent yet. They should have a turn.

...but really that’s only an excuse to get them doing something else so that Atsushi can wander off and harvest wild things guilt-free. I want him to learn herbalism.

He identifies things by eating them, which makes me nervous. But the WooHoo back there seems to be going well.

lol.

Kinshirou now has two concurrent WooHoo moodlets. I’m proud of him.

Desperate for culture and civilization, he decides to view this big statue. But the bugs have other plans.

Dont look so resigned, En. Maybe it’ll go better this time.

(It did go better! He caught a fish. But I was following Kinshirou around in his herbalism journey and missed it.)

This again... If they can’t learn that every time you poke a fire with a stick, the stick catches fire, maybe they should just stay away from fire.

Because En is a lazy Sim, he doesn't jog when he has to go long distances like the other two do. As a result, it takes him a million years to go places. They all started to head back to the campsite at the same time, but Atsushi has already cooked and eaten dinner, and Kinshirou has burned a stick as well, by the time En deigns to show up.

After dinner, Atsushi asks Kinshirou to go stargazing. <3

There aren’t many screenshots for the next day because they don’t do much of anything interesting. That’s largely because they sleep very late.

Kinshirou, pls

This is not the time to hit on Atsushi. Atsushi is fighting the eternal battle against the bugs.

Or so I would have said, but whatever En does here, he manages to get Atsushi’s attention.

...then he turns and starts talking to Kinshirou asldjkf

Atsushi: Hey... En-chan... I’m still up for... you know... you didn’t forget already, did you?

They all keep rolling whims to get married to each other but hey don’t have enough money or friends for a nice wedding yet asdl;jfk and they would be sad in the end if they had the quick, boring type of Sim wedding. They’ll have to daydream quietly about it for a little while longer.

En ends the trip with another story. Not a ghost story this time, though. He learned his lesson. This is a fairytale. Soon afterwards, when he and Kinshirou are stargazing, Kinshirou gets homesick :C Poor baby, he’s not meant for camping.

The next day, without fanfare or screenshots, they head home. I think their vacation was good for them, but Atsushi has no vacation days left, so lets hope he doesn't set himself on fire again before he earns another one.

Will they ever get to see the community lots built and chosen especially for them? Will they get a cat? Will I, in fact, pick up The Sims again at all? When in the world will En and Atsushi have compatible work schedules so that they don’t have to run away into the wilderness to be together? Only time will tell.

Epilogue:

The lion is En’s idea of a painting that inspires confidence.