#would you believe me if i actually drafted this right after you posted your art

[saskiavalentineapologist]

sketch time

you will sit down. you will look at my horrible little women. And You Will Appreciate Them

no this is NOT going under a cut you will see the blood sweat and tears i put into belialah's demon form and you will appreciate it, me, and saskia's off the charts world class monsterfucker status

we got saskia. we're familiar with saskia--or at least you should be. go look at the art by korppipoika and give them so many notes--this post will wait. and while you're out, look at the post about the matriarchs too. and if you're not up to date on saskia and belialah, here's another one for your list. i'll be here when you get back.

up to date? excited? horny? me too!!

so we got those two. in order for the images: saskia (recent), belialah (first draft, still happy with this and haven't been able to capture this vision since)

we got their dynamic:

saskia being a bitch and belialah being, despite everything, head over heels. still can't quite nail belialah's human face, but we're learning

...it took me a long time to nail down belialah's demon form. it went through a lot of drafts---many of which i am not sharing. this one is the oldest one i'm willing to share:

i believe this is draft 3? patch notes from earlier drafts: 4 fingers instead of three, took out "humanoid" eyes, added floaty halo bits. other than that, this is what it's mostly stayed true to. chase gave me an inspo and i remixed it and made it worse because i love body horror. so we have this! extra joint between the wrist and elbow, loads and loads of eyes, sharp teeth (yum!), wings, and a broken halo plus the big horn. love her. she has spider legs below her waist--she has "skirts" that are made from her skin that she usually wears (has?) over them.

made some eensy sketches for ideas:

i tinkered on size, proportion, posture, etc. it's vague, but not exact for either of them. i want a bigger height difference and this is for me first and foremost

i settled on this body type for saskia:

no nipples so she's not naked :) this is for anatomy reference, tumblr. ANATOMY. be so nice to me ;-;

ignore the stuff at the edges, this is part of a larger project idk if i'll finish where i look at all the matriarchs and their body types. saskia is the most...well, besides ethalind, the most hourglass shape. this is the most recent drawing of her i have besides the one at the very end, this is the one i would say is most canon. hence why it is included--the last one i have doesn't quite hit right for me. still working on consistency.

as i improved my art, i wanted to take another stab at belialah. which meant figuring out her lower half.

i did these ones reeaaally recently. i looked at so many things for inspo: crabs, spiders, human pelvises, centaur speculative biology, drider speculative biology, an introspective look at how much of a monsterfucker i am, etc. until i found something i was happy with. these are within the last few days. the lil sketches at the far bottom right of the first page are what i settled on. after that, i tinkered with how she looks with skirts vs no skirts---ignore the sword, it's no longer accurate to what it actually looks like, but that's endgame shit and no spoilers :)

i'm really happy with how she's turned out and i think she's kickass and awesome and i can't wait to beat her and saskia into the ground.

and then we have:

team gaslight gatekeep girlboss :)

i drew this last night!! really happy with how my art is coming along. i hesitated on whether to draw the skirts, because i think the spider legs are so fucking cool and i know logically the skirts are there but tbh its funner drawing the spider legs than the skirts :(

i want to make it very clear: belialah is submissive in the way a guard dog is submissive, to quote a post i once tagged as gilt and lost. belialah is loyal, devoted, willing to protect--but will wait for an order before acting

btw, to make something else clear: saskia? saw the demon form first. is more attracted to the demon form than the human form. is far more willing to smash with belialah in demon form. i love my weirdest little freak of a woman <3

ok that's all bye

[crazydoodlez]

Hope you don't mind me rambling in your inbox I just have some Thoughts about this whole thing

I think the whole reblogs/likes thing does deserve a conversation, especially since it's something that's happened to all social media and not just tumblr, and it does make me feel bad seeing someone with wonderful art just get a bunch of likes and almost no reblogs

However doing it that way is. No. It's the internet equivalent to publicly shaming someone for not doing the dishes, and even if the artist feels bad no one is reblogging their art that does not give them the right to passively aggressively force people to reblog it

It's honestly a shame, the art is actually quite cute! But bc of how the artist acted any potential positive interaction their art could have gotten is basically nonexistent now

Agreed! With all of that I've been thinking about some of my posts and how looking back they could be viewed as like. mean like that.

I would like to be clear right here and now folks:

While I believe wholeheartedly in Reblogs Over Likes, So much so that I will bitch about it a lot, at the end of the day it's Your Decision whether or not to Reblog or Like or interact at all. My intention is not to make you feel guilty, it is to spread awareness.

I personally love when people reblog my work (like my writing or my little doodles), and I'd be escatic if they gave comments on them. But I understand why someone would Like instead of Reblog. Again, at the end of the day it's ultimately your decision, and I don't want anyone to feel forced or guilted to do anything.

I actually have a post in my drafts with different screen shots of the Like-to-Reblog ratio for different art peices being wayyyy way off (Think 100 rbs with 1,000 likes) and I think I might reword some of the stuff in there after all of this. I think in the heat of "Let artists know you like their work" and stuff I forgot to be kinder about it.

But yeah. The way the person executed that was just. Not. Good. Again sorry to those I subjected it to by rbing it.

I appreciate the rambilings and the chance to think things out <3

[tunastime]

ok on behalf of fellow impdubs enthusiast i offer 14 on the prompt list for them <333

14. bruised / kissed (x) (744 words)

Bdubs lies in the grass outside. His heels clip the murky black beyond the cast of light from the lanterns propped up on the sills of the house. It’s quiet—a moment of respite for the first time in a long time since the game started.

The good thing is that the earth and grass under him haven’t had the chance to cool off nearly long enough for dew to form, so he lays in the dry grass and breathes in the smell of rain that shifts gently on the horizon. It’ll rain, at least one day, and the earth will be soaked and the ravine will fill up. The world here will get all washed out with a flash flood—or something, he thinks, that’s what flood myths are about, aren’t they?

Bdubs opens his eyes. There are stars tonight. Ones he knows and ones he can’t remember. Constellations Etho told him, ones Cleo showed him, ones he learned himself, ones he pointed out to Impulse. They line up in sparkling little patterns, so that if he takes his hands and funnels out the light he might be able to see them better. He cups his hands around his eyes and stares into the sky. The grass tickles his ankles, poking up under his socks.

“Bdubs?”

He tilts his head back, hands falling slack back into the grass behind him. Impulse’s shape blocks out the light from inside, cutting a dark line through the warm orange light. He smiles, more on instinct than anything else. It’s reflexive. It’s Impulse.

“Hey, you,” he says, scrunching his nose. Impulse laughs a little.

“What’re you doin’ out here in the grass?”

“Stargazing,” Bdubs says simply. He reaches out, patting the spot next to him. “C’mon, grass is dry.”

Impulse shakes his head, but he shuffles over anyway. He sinks to the ground next to Bdubs and lies back. Their elbows knock together. Bdubs doesn’t move his arm, so they’re shoulder to shoulder, forearm touching forearm. Impulse manages to catch three of his fingers, which he holds onto. His hands are warm and dry, like the grass. 

“Find any new ones?” Impulse says.

Bdubs frowns.

“Stars?”

Impulse smiles, inclining his head in Bdubs’ direction.

“Sure,” he jokes, giggling a little.

Bdubs rolls his eyes, shuffling so that they’re really side to side now, with their hands resting on Bdubs’ hip.

“Of course there aren’t,” he snorts, voice dropping a few levels to account for how close he’s gotten himself. It’s a perfect angle for him to rest his cheek on Impulse’s shoulder. Which was the goal. If it hadn’t been obvious to Impulse. “Dork.”

Impulse scoffs.

“You’re one to talk,” he retorts, but he leans in to rest his head against Bdubs’ and Bdubs feels him sigh into his hair.

Bdubs points with his free hand.

“There,” he says, tracing the shape of a V in the sky. “Those make a circle...” he frowns. “Circle-ish.”

Impulse follows his hand with his own, tracing out the shape in the air. He closes it, though, drawing an oval against the stars. He hums softly.

“Like a wheel,” he says.

“Sorta, yeah.”

“Wheels keep turning,” Impulse says, with a note of seriousness that nearly makes Bdubs shiver. Then he snorts, and he laughs. 

“You’re too philosophical to go stargazing with,” he complains into his shoulder, still bubbling with laughter.

Impulse laughs too, leaning hard into him.

“You love it!”

At some point he leans close enough so that his nose brushes Impulse’s cheek and that makes him turn, and now they’re only a few microns apart and really, really, he couldn’t be told off for just leaning in and kissing him. He couldn’t be blamed for it. It was Impulse. Of course he couldn’t.

It seems like every time he kisses him it feels like the first time, even if it’s one of a handful, one of tens, one of fifties. Impulse kisses him as gently as Bdubs does enthusiastically, hand sliding up to cradle his face, smoothing lines with his thumb against his jaw. Bdubs laughs against him, until they’re smiling more than they are kissing and laughing more than kissing too. Impulse lets his hands ruffle Bdubs’ hair and Bdubs presses his cheek against his face. He keeps laughing. 

They both do, lying together in the dry brush on a warm night in the middle of the worlds worst death game. He does love it. They both do.

[azenkii]

A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

[1ddotdhq]

Sun 31 Jan ‘21 

Happy Walls Dayyy!!!!!! Today was the first anniversary of our #1 fave debut album of 2020, and we all celebrated, Louis included! Last but best thing first: WE GOT A DEMO!! Louis ended the day by publishing a dreamy clip of a demo of the title song ‘Walls’. His clear voice croons over beautiful sliding electric guitars and background reverberance- if that’s his FIRST draft then he is, as we knew, a GENIUS! AND, the King Himself came on twitter to interact with his “loyal” (his words) subjects (that’s us!). He popped up at first to say that his tour, when it comes around, will be “fucking unbelievable...this is our day!”, and talked about his favorite part of the last year (“the two shows I played”), what he noticed most when performing solo the first times (“the space on stage” ughhhh all the tears), what he was looking forward to after COVID (“everything”) and getting through these times- “remember that everything is going to be better when normality sets back in.” He also explained that while he was gonna put out merch today, he “didn’t want to market the day”, but rather make it “a celebration just for us”. But, uh, the merch will be coming eventually! He then replied that there were “too many greedy fuckers out there” who try turn celebratory events into a “cash grab” (to quote the fan), and harries then got mad at that because THEY were like this must be about Harry (lol uhhhh) and assumed he was shading him and Jeff rather than, I don’t know, his OWN FORMER LABEL?? Cool cool cool, but it’s still Harry’s moth on Spotify, so cope. He told us that his proudest moment on the album was recording the strings for the Walls the Single, that he wouldn’t have approached the process differently because he’s still really proud of the album, that he was most looking forward to us hearing KMM or Walls, that Doncaster is his fav place (to no one’s surprise lmao), and, asked what song he likes to rock out to off HIS ALBUM was like oh hey have I got a rec for you: “Maybe Tomorrow” by the Stereophonics. It goes, “think I'll walk me outside and buy a rainbow smile, but be free” and “maybe tomorrow I’ll find my way home” (huh is there something happening tomorrow that could be linked to... OH. Right. Huh. Well all that is just a coincidence I’m sure, it’s not like Louis ever said he likes to rec songs because he wants us to read into the lyrics or anything... oh wait.)    

LTHQ did a insta quiz over on their stories (I only got two questions wrong!) and they did the promised virtual listening party and tweeted along to each song and retweeted fans’ reactions (and all the usernames, larries everywhere, we SEE YOU). Friends of Louis joined in the celebration- Only The Poets, Ashton Irwin of 5SoS fame, Helene Hornyck (“all the love,” she said!), Isaac Anderson and more, and All On The Board made one of their lovely Frankenstein poems which mashing up a bunch of LT1 songs, but in keeping with the theme of the day (and COVID I GUESS) did it as fanart rather than the usual in person board. And all of that was the BORING part of the day, can you BELIEVE?? The FUN part was the Walls Fanart that was chosen to be the new Spotify cards on the official Walls album. As in, they are up right now if you want to go check them out, but I’m gonna tell you straight up: they’re half Harry tats! The Defenseless card, especially, as it is just straight up fanart of Harry’s moth tattoo, especially fun when he had JUST got us talking about its Papillion origin with his finsta! The artist had been worried that Louis would be mad at them for submitting ‘Larry art’, and was overjoyed to learn that, uh... apparently, he was NOT. That was not all! The ‘Too Young’ art card is H’s rose tattoo, ‘Habit’ and ‘Fearless’ were both different variations of H’s anatomical heart tat (the ‘Habit’ one even included the word kind :{) ), and the We Made It rainbow wheel did, in fact, make it to Spotify, just like we thought! “Perfect Now” was Louis standing under a rainbow spotlight—they made that one black and white for spotify but the artist shared the original version. Harries were beside themselves, and tagged Jeff (Azoff), Ben Winston, and Gemma Styles (what?), demanding that they make Louis take the art down because it was clearly Harry art, which 1.) how much more blatant can you be if even ANTIS are noticing and 2.) what sort of control do they think Jeff, Ben, and Gemma have over Louis seeing as, uh, none of them currently work for him??? Weird, are they thinking there might be some kind of link... between Harry and his team and Louis... tell me more antis, truly, I’m fascinated!

One would think that’s more than enough for one day but WAIT THERE’S MORE Zayn is in EXCELLENT quirky Zayn form having fun with his own merch—he posted a gremlin (from the old RL Stine movie ‘Gremlins’) in a NIL beanie captioned “one size fits all humanoid shaped heads” late last night, haaaaa. Yes, I agree! The red stitching really makes the gremlin’s red eyes pop, and his fangs have never looked this good! And the question arose, is Harry’s finsta actually just his side account for following nothing but gay meme accounts? Evidence—the discovery of a second follow, of the openlygayanimals account-- would suggest yes! Well that’s valid, imagine having to not only navigate the internet AS HARRY but also without funny memes of your choice, that’s no life to lead. And Niall complained on twitter that people didn’t understand his sense of humor because SARCASM! He also tweeted about golf, which I’m sure was cool for people who understand it.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

You just had to bring the symbol of Victory into this didn't you?!???? Is this some sort of euphemism I should look forward to or!??!?!?????

Yes!! Let me “paint you a picture” (groan)... Also, I sat down to draft my response and it's somehow *gestures at this whole mess* 2300+ words!?? And confession time! I’ve never even SEEN "The Mentalist"! Everything I know about Marcus Pike has come from cute GIFs and the Internet and fanfics… so… I don’t even know what’s going on with me today. But thank you! :D

(This is leaking over from this post if anyone needs to play catch-up)

Paris

Word count: 2300+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Marcus Pike x “You” in Paris, reader is an Art History Professor (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: slow burn; cute Marcus Pike; coffee and pastries; kissing and stuff; public-ish sex in the Louvre after hours; spontaneous P/V sex (probably unprotected, idek) we're all adults here, wrap it before YOU tap it!

It’s like, you and sweet Marcus have definitely hit it off and you’re really into each other after that field trip meet-cute and your date, but you haven’t slept together yet. He gets called away for a case, so you wish him good luck and hope that you can see each other again soon.

A few days later it’s spring break and you have a trip to Paris planned to complete some research for your next publication. You email Marcus while you're waiting to board. You let him know that you’re going to be out of town for a few days, but that you hope his case is going well, and maybe when he's back you two can pick up where you left off?

You land in Paris and check your messages, and you see that Marcus has replied to your email. He says he can't share the details of his case, but that he hopes he'll be wrapped up by the end of the week, and that he definitely wants to see you again. He asks about your research trip, so you shoot a quick email back to fill him in on the details.

You get to your hotel and sink into a hot bath with your phone. You open your emails, and your brain tells you that you're just checking to confirm the details of your appointment with your research contact in the morning... but the little uptick in your heart rate tells you that you're actually looking for another reply from Marcus. And it's there. He says that he loves Paris and that your research sounds exciting. He asks where you’re staying? You give him the name of your hotel, and tell him that you haven't stayed there before, but it's cute.

Before the water even gets cold you have another reply, sending the butterflies behind your navel into a tizzy. He says that he's stayed there once or twice and that the café in the lobby has excellent pastries. You smile and let yourself imagine a vacation with Marcus, here in Paris, sharing pain au chocolat over a little table in the café. You refill the tub with hot water and sit daydreaming for so long that your fingers prune up.

You get out of the bath and wrap yourself in a plush robe, and sit on the edge of the bed. You email Marcus back, wishing him a good night and telling him that it's late where you are, but that you promise to try one of the pastries in the morning with your breakfast coffee. By the time you're in your nightgown and ready to sleep he's responded, wishing you sweet dreams and hoping that your research goes well. You smile and reply, "Thanks," and then drift down into pleasant dreams.

The next morning you take yourself to the little lobby café and treat yourself to a café crème and an almond croissant. Marcus was right, and you nearly moan aloud as you wrap your mouth around the flaky pastry. You open your email and send him a picture of your croissant with one bite missing, and you joke that you blame him for ruining you for any other boulangeries you might visit during your trip. By the time you're done with breakfast he's responded with a wink emoji and a quick "Sorry I ruined you," and you desperately want to email him back and boldly ask him to ruin you in other ways. You stop yourself, and your brain can't think of anything appropriate, so you just don't respond and you leave to go to your research appointment.

The day is long, and the dusty archives and a few misfiled papers cause small irritations. But you find a few of the things that you needed, so you call it productive enough. You break at 3 p.m. and decide to start again fresh in the morning. Maybe an early dinner and another scalding hot bubble bath will set you right. You decide that the weather is nice, and that your hotel is close enough that you can stroll back and people watch, disconnect your brain from your work and transition into relaxation mode along the way.

You arrive back at your hotel and go to your room to change. There is a card slipped under your door, the front desk letting you know that you have a delivery of some kind to pick up. You try to remember if any of your colleagues or your boss mentioned that they would send you anything? Is it paperwork? Some kind of file for your research? You decide to shower and change into a nice dress to lift your mood, and then head back out for dinner.

You take the card to the lobby desk and hand it to the desk clerk and he disappears into the back office. When he returns you're surprised to see that he's holding a floral arrangement, not huge or ostentatious, but lovely and cheerful and somehow your favorite color exactly. The clerk sets the vase on the desk. You reach for the card and open it.

"Good luck on your research. -Marcus"

You break into a wide grin and you practically float back to your room. You set the flowers on the room table and open your email to thank him. You send him a photo and an effusive "Thank you!" and a winky kiss emoji. Is that too much? No - if one little emoji scares him off then he's not the guy you thought he was.

He responds within minutes, a quick "You're welcome. Glad they arrived in one piece." and his own winky kiss emoji. Your heart flutters and you reply immediately, "They're really lovely. Thank you for thinking of me."

A moment later his next email pops up: "Can I take you to dinner and pick up where we left off?"

You reply: "Absolutely! I'll let you know as soon as I'm back in town!"

He responds: "No, I meant tonight."

You hesitate, does he want to call you and chat on the phone while you eat dinner? Some kind of video call, like a virtual date? Before you can type your reply, a new message pops up: "I'm actually in Paris. My case is here and I arrived a few days before you did. I didn't want to scare you off or come to your hotel unannounced, but I'm free tonight and I'd love to see you."

You throw your head back and laugh. This is definitely way more fun than eating alone and people-watching. You message back an enthusiastic, "Yes! I'm ready when you are!" and he emails you and says he'll see you in 30 minutes in the lobby. When you get downstairs he's waiting by the front desk, all soft scruff and loosened tie and warm brown eyes, just as you remembered. You smile and hug him, and in that moment you feel like a fairy-tale princess meeting her prince, being swept off your feet in the most romantic city in the world.

You have dinner at a cozy bistro around the corner, Marcus making you bubble with laughter as you talk. He listens to you moan about the missing pieces of your research, your pressing need to track down a letter from one artist to another that was mentioned in an old diary but which hasn't yet surfaced. You're sure it's around the archives somewhere, just waiting for you to piece it together with the rest of your project. Marcus tells you that his case is almost wrapping up, and if you want he can arrange to catch the same flight home as you. You smile and tell him that would be nice.

You finish dinner and he asks if you want to go to the Louvre, and you check the time and say that they're almost closing. Marcus smiles at you and says, "Don't worry about it," and he looks a little mischievous. You tell him you're up for an adventure, and he takes your hand and ushers you into a taxi.

When you arrive he asks the desk staff for someone he knows, and you make a quick run to the restroom. When you return, Marcus has two laminated badges, special access for professionals and visiting staff that allows you to stay for a few hours past closing. You can't believe your luck, being allowed to spend extra time in one of the most special places in the world, not to mention that your escort is the most handsome and charismatic man you've ever met.

You start in the Denon wing and wander through the museum, talking and laughing quietly, enjoying the opportunity to see things that you would normally have to fight hordes of tourists to see. And maybe "enjoy" isn't the right word, because if someone asked you how you were feeling right now, you would say you were "on cloud nine" or "elated" or "floating." It feels like a dream, and you're not sure if you're going to remember all of it later, but you desperately want to, and you're trying so hard to file every sight away into your brain.

When you reach the Mona Lisa, an odd hush falls over you, and you realize it's the first time you've ever seen it without a crowd twenty deep in front of it. Marcus seems to know what you're feeling, because he takes your hand, almost shyly. And he keeps holding it, warming your fingers as the two of you walk on. You stop in front of Delacroix, "Liberty Leading the People," and you tell Marcus that it's the first painting you ever fell in love with, a million years ago in high school during your very first art history class. You look at the painting and he looks at you, and when you finally turn toward him he captures your mouth in a warm, urgent, soft kiss. You can feel your eyes sparkling at him when he pulls away, and you don't say a word, you just smile and hold his hand as you walk through doorways and up and down stairs.

You come around a corner and there it is, probably the most famous statue in the world: the Venus de Milo. She takes your breath away, and then Marcus does, too, stealing a kiss when you least expect it. And you're torn completely in half, unsure if you would rather keep kissing him or just stare at the curves and planes of her body. So you try to do both; you kiss him and keep one eye on the Venus and you start to feel dizzy, like you've overloaded on sugar, but it's just the impossible circumstances that you've found yourself in.

And you break apart from him, and take his hand again, leading him into a corner that's a little more private. You back yourself against a wall and pull him to you by his tie, and you kiss him the way he deserves, with your full attention and precision. Minutes pass slowly, and you only come up for air because you're afraid you're going to faint. Your thigh is blazing hot where Marcus's hand has raked up under your skirt, and the only reason you don't fuck him right there is because of a security camera keeping watch on the alcove.

You tell him that you both should finish your tour and go back to your hotel, and he agrees. You try to keep your mind on the art, and you tell Marcus about how awestruck you were as a student when you learned about the way that sculptors could depict every curve and dimple of a woman's body through the wet drapery technique; the sensuality of the human form made only slightly more modest when viewed through a veil of fabric; the sheer awesome impossibility of marble carved to look like gauze.

You both get lost in the conversation, and you wander up a staircase and around a corner, and there it is: your absolute favorite piece of art, the piece that you have studied and memorized and dreamed about. And you've seen it before: you've been to the Louvre a handful of times, but this time there are no noisy footsteps echoing off the marble, no tourists trying to capture the glory of it with their tiny and unworthy cameras and phones when there are perfectly good books and postcards available in the gift shop... the Nike to end all Nikes, the Winged Victory of Samothrace. You are, quite simply, blown away.

And if it had been a normal weekend walking tour of the sacred Louvre, if you had been there with anyone else... you wouldn't have ended up wedged against the wall of the archway to her left, skirt hiked up as Marcus pounded into you, one of your bare legs hooked over his hip and your arms wrapped around his neck. If it had been any other day or any other time, you would have stopped him before he unzipped his fly and pulled his erection out; you would have had some remaining shred of propriety, of decency. But it wasn't a normal day and he wasn't a normal man, and you really weren't yourself.

You had gotten carried away by the late hour and the thrill of being allowed to wander the empty museum, and if you were being honest, you really wouldn't have wanted to stop it. You wanted to give in to the romance of the city and the priceless treasures on display and the heady conversations with Marcus. You wanted to be exactly where you were, with exactly who he was, doing exactly what you were doing and feeling exactly how you felt as he thrust into you and grunted your name like a chant while you traced the lines of the Nike with your lust-blown eyes.

You didn't make it to the Richlieu wing until a year later, on a sunny Saturday morning with your new husband Marcus.

--- Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Roll call: please message me if you don't want to be on my "all fics" tag list!

@221bshrlocked @danniburgh @starlightmornings @honestly-shite @spacedilf @anaaaispunk @silverwolf319 @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @the-queen-of-fools @driedgreentomatoes @juletheghoul @dihra-vesa @anxiousandboujee

[keichanz]

Mistake

kay so i really don't care if some of this doesn't make sense because this is the first thing i've written in a while that i don't absolutely hate. well this version at least. ending up scraping the first draft because it just seemed wrong and went in a different direction. im glad i did cause im happy with it.

anyway i realize that this may not get much feedback because i took a different approach to it, aka the entire pov is from an OC but i can't bring myself to care too much because i wrote this purely for myself. got inspired, started writing, and i actually liked the content i was writing. end of.

btw the oc doesn't refer to inuyasha as a half-demon because he's unaware he is one and i was too lazy to delve into those waters anyhow.

also for the sake of this oneshot pls dont look too closely at the ranks of diplomat and ambassador. i was too lazy to put much research regarding positions of power so just...go with it.

inspired by @stillunderyourbed​'s art that can be found here.

It was…quaint. Smaller than what he'd expected. The housing structures looked subpar, there didn't appear to be any wooden walkways, and he could detect the distinct odor or fish in the air with hints of manure. There even seemed to be a perpetual dust cloud hovering at about waist high, thickening from the numerous carts, wagons, horses, and villagers kicking up dirt as they went about their daily lives. Already he felt like there was a layer of dust caked on the inside of his lungs and he wasn't even inside yet.

All in all, it was your typical countryside village, home to simple folk that made a living off of fishing, farming, and trade. The diplomat sneered in disgust. For being the rumored home of the creature strong enough to destroy the despicable Naraku, the village was…less than impressive. And to say that he was underwhelmed would be a vast understatement.

Shifting atop his mount, a chestnut gelding that had been his faithful companion for the last four years, Takeji frowned as he surveyed the sight before him. It was early afternoon, so men were out working in the fields, women were chatting amongst themselves as they laundered clothing at the river, and children were running about, playing and laughing while dogs barked at their heels. He could see the great red torii gate and the stone staircase that led to the shrine and he could hardly refrain from rolling his eyes.

The village was obviously poor, possibly even teetering on the edge of poverty, and instead of feeding themselves for a good long while, they decided to construct that monstrosity. He would never understand the minds of simple common folk. Daft. All of them.

Barely keeping himself from scowling, Takeji reluctantly climbed off his mount and forced himself to move forward into the pathetic excuse for a village. Already he knew he would have to burn his expensive attire; there would be no getting the dust and stench out of it after his ghastly visit. A visit he had not wanted to make, but being a highly revered and prestigious diplomat, it was his duty to travel to far off lands in hopes of establishing a profitable relationship that would ultimately benefit his homeland.

Although, looking around and fighting against the urge to retch at both the nauseating stench and the mere sight of all the unwashed villagers milling around, Takeji wondered not for the first time why he even bothered to accept this task. True, it was said the slayer of Naraku did hail from here, but surely having his homeland associated with this hovel would garner nothing but loss. So why had he agreed to come?

Oh, yes, he mused, grimacing as he stepped over a large manure pile right in the middle of the road. Because apparently, being all chummy with the nation's hero will allow us to have him at our beck and call, because who doesn't want a powerful demon capable of slaying the most evil demon in all of existence as an intimidating presence during negotiations, and let's not forget he alone would be equal to about one hundred soldiers in battle.

Rolling his eyes, Takeji tied his mount to a hitching post, withdrew his satchel with all the necessary paperwork, and set about finding this Inuyasha fellow. He'd been told the demon wore scarlet robes, carried a sword at his hip, and had white hair so no doubt he would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the droll browns and grays of the common folk, which suited him just fine. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave because there was no way he was staying even a second more in this village than he had to. Even if the next inn was hours away, he'd make the journey; the inn here was probably as unclean and riddled with bed bugs or something. Ugh. How vile.

Shrugging the satchel over his shoulder, Takeji bit back a groan, sighed, and hadn't even made it a single step before the sound of screaming froze him in his tracks. He gasped and immediately started looking for the danger, body tense, preparing to hop back onto his steed lightning fast and make a hasty getaway.

But as he looked around with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart, Takeji couldn't help but notice that he was the only one that appeared to have heard the sound of terror. The villagers were just continuing to go about their day, calm as you please, either severely deaf or completely uncaring. Takeji was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps hearing things when it happened again, a high-pitched sound that he realized with dread belonged to a child.

Takeji gaped. A child was in danger and nobody cared?! What kind of village was this?! Another shriek pierced the air, and Takeji made a decision. Very well; if these imbeciles weren't going to do anything about it, then he himself would see to the danger. While by no means a swordsman or warrior, he did have some weapons training he could fall back on for this precise reason. Traveling alone was dangerous, and you never knew what you would encounter.

Resolved, the diplomat set his jaw, unsheathed the dagger at his waist, and darted toward the direction the screams were coming from. He meandered between houses, hoped over lazing dogs, dodged startled villagers in his path, and he came into a small clearing by the forest's edge. The sight that greeted him was…not what he expected.

Coming up short, Takeji watched with a befuddled frown as one child chased around two other, slightly older looking children. One might think they were playing a game of sorts, and the diplomat started to believe that was indeed the case…until the one doing the chasing, clad in red, suddenly jumped high into the air, over the heads of the other two children, and landed before them with hands raised.

Hands, Takeji noticed with growing dread and disgust, tipped with claws on each finger and he quickly realized what exactly was happening. That wicked little demon brat, that creature was toying with those helpless children! It was keeping them trapped, preventing them from running away by leaping over their heads and blocking their route of escape! They screamed, the demon child laughed, and so potent was his fury, so enraged was he for the fact that the villagers apparently did not care about what was happening right beneath their noses, Takeji failed to notice the wide smiles on all three of the young one's faces. The blood pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing the gleeful giggles as the two human kids scrambled away from the one clad in red, and without another thought, Takeji moved.

"Run, children!" Takeji ordered as he hurled himself into the clearing, dagger raised as he charged toward the demon brat with a baleful glare. "I will take care of his filthy animal!"

All three children froze in place, eyes wide as Takeji inserted himself between the two human children - twin girls, he idly noted - and the demon spawn that dared raised its claws toward them. The brat stared up at him with big brown eyes and it - she - actually looked confused. Takeji scowled. He would not fall for such a ploy.

"I will not allow you to harm them," he spat and pointed his dagger at her. The child blinked at him and then looked behind him at the two girls who still had not taken the chance to flee. In shock, perhaps? Stunned? No matter; they were safe, so long as he stood between them and the threat.

The demon child made a face and started to walk around him, completely disregarding the weapon trained on her, but Takeji shifted and stopped her once more. He heard the two behind him whispering as the spawn looked up at him once again, this time frowning at him with narrowed eyes. And was that a growl he heard? He snorted. Was she actually trying to appear threatening? Pathetic.

Scowling, Takeji lifted a foot, placed it on her stomach, and shoved. The demon gasped as she stumbled back and then landed on her behind with a small grunt. He heard a gasp from behind him, urgent whispering, and then hurried scrambling. A glance over his shoulder told him they'd finally gotten wise and ran away. He nodded. Good. Now he could deal with this vermin without innocent eyes to bear witness.

But as he stared down at the pathetic sight before him, Takeji wondered maybe if such measures would even be necessary. The beast was still lying where she had fallen and was staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with…wait. What? Were those tears? Oh, you have got to be joking.

Rolling his eyes, the diplomat scoffed at the pathetic play for mercy and careless waved his dagger at her. The child actually flinched and followed the blade with her gaze, wariness clear in her eyes. Well. It appeared her self-preservation instincts have finally kicked in.

"Cease your theatrics," Takeji drawled, unimpressed. "They do not fool me. Now lucky for you, demon spawn, the pathetic sight you project has made me decide to spare your life. Your tainted blood is not worthy enough to soil my blade, so I will say this only one and you would do well to heed this warning, beast."

Hardening his stare and curling his lip into a sneer, Takeji spat, "Leave this place at once and do not return. There is no place for the likes of you, an abomination that preys on helpless children. Now get out of my sight, afore I kill you on principle. Your vile presence disgusts me."

The child grunted and Takeji watched, stone faced, as she got to her feet. Then to his surprise the little demon balled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears he could clearly see brimming her eyes. He cocked a brow, unmoved. She sniffled once, twice, and then to his utter surprise and bafflement, her face suddenly crumbled, her lower lip trembled, and she promptly burst into loud tears before spinning on her heel and running away.

"P-Papaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Takeji frowned. Papa? Were the brat's kin nearby, then? Body tense and weapon raised, he waited, prepared to either fight or flee - because he wasn't a fool and knew when he was in over his head - but when no demons came bursting out of the tree line, Takeji slowly relaxed.

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed at the whole debacle - what a waste of time! - the diplomat scoffed in derision as he turned to watch the little demon brat scurry away. And then right at that exact moment, a figure donned in red dropped to the ground seemingly out of nowhere and Takeji felt a wave of relief sweep through him. Finally! This had to be his demon quarry.

Nodding, Takeji stepped forward and opened his mouth to call out a greeting—

And then froze in his tracks as the greeting abruptly died on his tongue. Because the little demon girl, the one he'd just pointed his weapon at and shoved to the ground, ran straight to the figure robed in red and Takeji could do naught but watch with a growing sense of horrified dread as the older demon knelt down to take the child into his arms.

All color promptly drained from his face and Takeji suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He glanced behind the pair and he was somehow not at all surprised to find the twin girls from earlier glaring at them and holding onto the skirts of their mother with a monk garbed in violet robes beside her. They too were staring at him in a not so friendly manner, but upon returning his gaze to the two demons, Takeji numbly thought that if looks could kill, he would surely be dead by now.

Because the demon robed in red - which was now unmistakably the child's father and none other than Inuyasha, the demon he'd come here for - was glaring absolute murder at him and it was obvious that he was. Not. Pleased.

Takeji swallowed and unconsciously backed up a step. With one small hand fisting her father's robes, the child had the other pointing an accusatory finger at him as she no doubt recited to him their earlier…ah, exchange. Inuyasha said nothing in response, but he didn't need to. The deep, nearly subsonic growl that erupted from his mouth, complete with fully bared fangs in a truly fearsome snarl, told him very clearly of his thoughts on his daughter's mistreatment by him.

Which, if Takeji had to guess, were not very Takeji-friendly. At all.

Somehow managing to fight against the urge to flee, Takeji swallowed hard as Inuyasha pushed to his feet and stalked toward him with that same murderous look on his face. Something told him, perhaps some deeply rooted self-preservation instinct, that if he even tried to run right then, it would not end well for him. So he remained where he was and tried valiantly to control the trembling in his body as he slowly, very slowly, tucked his dagger back from whence it came.

Inuyasha stopped in front of him and Takeji cleared his throat before attempting a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything. "Ah…I assume you are…In—"

One second Takeji was staring into the scowling features of one pissed off dog demon. The next there was a bright flash of light and then he was staring at the business end of a very large and very sharp sword. With the tip just a hair's breadth away from his nose, Takeji gasped sharply and stumbled back a step out of instinct.

Sweet merciful heavens! How—?

"Usually I'd ask who the fuck you are," the demon growled, his eyes twin slits of baleful gold. "But honestly, I can't really bring myself to care enough to know the name of the asshole who threatened my daughter when she was doing nothing but playing with her friends."

Takeji blanched for the second time and he could actually feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He fucked up. Oh dear god he'd fucked up so bad—

"There's—there's been a misunderstanding," Takeji tried in a voice higher than usual, raising his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he eyed the very sharp point of that blade. "I—I admit I've made a grave mistake—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me why I shouldn't gut you where you stand," Inuyasha hissed, lips feeling back off his fangs in another fierce snarl. With his ears pinned back and those golden eyes glaring absolute death at him, the demon made quite the menacing picture. Takeji had the brief, if a bit ludicrous thought, that perhaps the demon Naraku perished from the sheer animosity that was coming off of the silver-haired demon in waves.

Swallowing once, twice, Takeji realized that he only had his quick wit to get him out of his certain predicament. So bracing himself, he opened his mouth—

"He's from the continent, Inuyasha. You can't hurt him."

Startled hazel eyes swung toward the source of the voice but amber eyes stayed locked on their target, the only acknowledgment of the voice a flick of an ear.

The owner of the voice the human diplomat could only presume was the child's mother, as the child in question was standing behind her legs and was actually smirking at him. He frowned.

"You're from Shenshi," the woman remarked and Takeji swung his gaze back to her. "Right?"

Though her expression wasn't openly friendly, it wasn't exactly unfriendly either, however the human diplomat still felt he needed to tread carefully. Because while her face didn't betray anything, her stare was hard and her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line. She had one hand on her daughter's head while the other clutched a longbow, and belatedly he realized she had a quiver of arrows slung across her back. He barely held in a flinch as he realized this was one of the demon's companions that had assisted in slaying Naraku, possibly the young woman in which Inuyasha held a more meaningful relationship.

A much more meaningful relationship, if the child currently glaring daggers at him was anything to go by since she was more or less living proof of it.

Wonderful. So he'd gone and threatened the only child of two of the most powerful beings in Japan. Clearly he'd stepped over the wrong grave and pissed somebody off.

Clearing his throat and aiming a strained smile toward the woman who was still awaiting his reply, Takeji nodded once. "Ah, y-yes, my lady. I'm—"

"The diplomat Ambassador Sharaku sent to convince Inuyasha to join his ranks so he'd have the support and protection of 'The Great Slayer of Naraku.'" The woman raised a delicate brow at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Takeji had the good grace to look a mite sheepish. "Ah…well—"

"You can't kill him, Inuyasha," she repeated and Takeji thought she sounded disappointed. "If he goes missing, the ambassador will send his troops to find out what happened or if he returns injured, it could be taken as an insult and you can imagine what would happen after that. You would risk mine or Moroha's life like that, and you know it."

Inuyasha growled but said nothing to refute her words, so Takeji assumed he agreed.

"He threatened her, Kagome," the demon spat, inching the blade closer to his throat and Takeji flinched. "Called her a fucking animal, shoved her down, and waved a goddamn dagger in her face! You can't honestly expect me to let that—"

"Papa," the child - Moroha - suddenly said, successfully stalling her father's angry tirade. A quick glance revealed the girl, still sticking close to her mother, was staring at the older demon with big brown eyes, bright with the threat of tears as she worried her bottom lip. And evidently the sight was enough to calm the raging storm of Inuyasha's fury because he grimaced, released a low growl, and then Takeji watched in stunned amazement as the massive sword suddenly transformed into a rusty katana before it was sheathed at his hip.

With a weapon no longer at his throat, Takeji could breathe a little easier and he released a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. But then he sucked it right back in when Inuyasha suddenly stepped in close and got in his face, a low, threatening growl leaking past rightly clenched teeth bared in another snarl. Golden eyes bore into his own, filled with a lethal warning that had the human male's back straightening and his blood to run cold in his veins.

"You listen carefully, asshole," Inuyasha hissed, glaring so heatedly it was a wonder Takeji didn't burst into flame. "Don't you dare think that my wife's words have any sort of sway over my decision to spare your pathetic life. I'm not scared of your weakling ambassador and I sure as hell ain't scared of his little human army. No, the only reason that I let you live is because I don't want my daughter, the one you foolishly threatened when she had done nothing wrong, to see me sully my hands with your disgusting blood when I reduce you to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground."

Takeji paled and swallowed thickly. That particular image was…not pleasant.

Inuyasha watched the color drain from his face. Satisfied, he sneered before saying in a growl filled with sinister promise, "Now get the fuck outta my village and if you ever touch my daughter again, I'll gut you so fast you won't even have time to fucking scream."

Then with that, Inuyasha leveled him with one last dark scowl before spinning on his heel and stalking away, a clear dismissal. Neither mother nor daughter even spared the frozen human male a glance as Inuyasha paused to pick his daughter up into his arms before striding away, his wife close to one side and his friends on the other.

From over his shoulder, Takeji could only watch in a mixture of shock and befuddlement as the little demon girl named Moroha smirked and then stuck her tongue out at him, safe and sound in her father's arms.

Left standing in a state of numb bewilderment, Takeji blinked, looked down at himself, and had the passing thought that it was a very good thing he'd decided to wear brown trousers that day.

[pixy-stix-art]

I’m feeling feelings so here this is. I might not post this and I have no idea how long this will be in drafts, but I do apologize for being a little emotional.

@baka-monarch

Thank you so much for being a amazing and kind person. You inspired me so much and I really look up to you a lot. You got me into the dsmp and I couldn’t be happier. Being in this fandom has allowed me to find even more amazing and kind people who I now call friends. I owe you so much you don’t even know. Your stories and AU’s have helped me get through rough days even back when you posted sanders sides stuff. After having a really bad friend ship, you actually made me realize not all people are bad. So thank you so incredibly much!

@alphawolfanimates2

I don’t think I would be writing right now if you hadn’t sent me those prompts back when you had your old account. Everything I write is because of you. Thank you for making me get back into something I really enjoyed as a kid. I never expected anyone to like my writing let alone this much! Im so happy to be making stories again.

@mysticalblue09

You are amazing. You are literally my best friend. And I don’t call people that easily anymore. I enjoy talking to you so much and in makes my day to be able to talk with you. You helped me find a small online family and I’m so much more comfortable being myself and talking to other people now. Im kinda crying as I write this because I’m so happy to have such amazing friends. Thank you so much I care about you a lot.

@awesome-slime-lover

You are one of the funniest people I know and I love talking and joking around with you. I can’t wait to get to know you more and become closer friends. And I love your writing. You inspire me to write more and get out of my comfort zone. So thank you.

@corysmiles

Your writing is so amazing. Like I love everything you do. You inspire me to write more and work harder to improve my own stories. I am always so happy to see when you post new stuff. I got back and reread your stuff all the time. Friendly giant is one of my comfort fics now I love it so much. Thank you for being such a great writer and person.

@leetlezeetle

I love all your writing soooo much. And your art is so amazing too. We don’t talk to much, but I love being able to interact with you. Your such a genuine friendly person and you amongst others, helped me feel more apart of this community. So thank you.

@ everyone else who follows me.

Y’all are so nice I don’t even believe it sometimes. I haven’t been able to take a picture of myself I’m years because I didn’t like how I looked. And now I have so much more self confidence because of you guys. I am able to completely be myself here and that makes me so happy. On bad days I can come here and just take a break and breath. I can read stories from my favorite people and enjoy how positive everyone is when hyping up everyone else. This small community here means so much to me you all have no idea. I can’t always be myself around my family but here I can and it’s such a relief. I literally don’t know anyone in real life and I don’t have anyone to hang out with irl. Weather you are a anon, a person I talk to regularly or someone who I don’t interact with much, thank you for everything.

[junhuiste]

break the code (ex-wip)

pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader

wc: 1900

tags/warning: basketball!soonyoung, college au, slightly suggestive language, cursing

a/n: this was something i started way back in 2017 when i was 15 lol and i tried going back to it and finishing but i just can’t seem to continue it!! but i don’t want it to just sit in my drafts so i’m just going to post the unfinished wip! i might do this with a lot of wips i’ve had collecting dust over the years (and they’re like 99% svt lol); if i ever do find some stroke of inspo to finish it i might but for now enjoy the 1900 words i wrote when i was a sophomore

“But babe, you’ll sit on my side, right?” Soonyoung continued to pester you with countless little questions to which he knew the exact answers to.

You pursed your lips at your boyfriend; mild sorrow and guilt clouded your eyes. In return he pout your favorite pair of plush pillows to kiss, with dull bleakness and dismals fogging his irises. It was hard, really, to resist the pull of a magnet, who was trying every trick in the book to coerce you to sit on his school’s side of the bleachers for the upcoming basketball game on Friday.

Had it been that both of you were just your run-of-the-mill university couple, tachycardia would’ve caused you to blurt out “yes” instantaneously just by being gazed upon by Soonyoung, but alas, the big guy upstairs made it to be so that you technically couldn’t through the rulebook of the sibling code.

A flushed palm extended to your denim-covered thighs, with the utmost desire lacing his fingers.

“Pretty please? With a cherry on top?” His digits creeped towards your inner thigh, getting closer to the actual cherry he wanted on top.

“Soonyoung, no matter how well you do me, I’m still obligated to sit on my side of the bleachers.”

None of Soonyoung’s coercions could persuade you to decide about where to sit. You really would’ve preferred to sit on his side, but with your current situation, none of that was possible. It was a precarious oscillation between blood and water, and neither did you want to drown in with regret for embracing one over another.

“Fine. If you can’t cheer me on–which is a pitiful shame–let me take you out to eat after the game. And we can make out in my car or something so he won’t have to know.” Soonyoung’s gaze no longer held flashes of fervor, but rather a decadent gleam of sheer admiration.

“It’s a done deal, but you better promise me to dunk on him, or be prepared to get dunked on by him. As of right now, however, you owe me some kisses for making me wobble continuously back and forth between your side and his before I go,” you taunted, “come here you little rascal.”

Soonyoung gleamed at you piercingly, yielding you to lean forward against him as a shock of joy sparked up your back. His hand feathered along the back of your thigh, brushing it so longingly, with a tinge of impertinence here and there. You could feel the urgency radiating from him as he struggled to press you even closer to him, as there were no more gaps to be filled. He grasped your chin gingerly, before connecting his lips with yours, wanting to revel in dire coalescence he’d been awaiting upon your arrival.

Soonyoung is the warm bath you dip yourself into after constant exhaustion, the meager yet compelling and needed breeze as the sun beats down you, the red mark that’s actually relieving and boasts “A+” on a hard worked assignment, the last basket shot as the clock dashes away with the snickering seconds, and he is what has you torn on where your loyalty stands, but you can’t thank him enough for that strife.

You pulled away first because getting you two to separate would be a long ass haul, and maybe it was also getting late, just maybe. Your eyes glimpsed at the badgering hands that indicated 11:35 PM, and nothing but a sullen sigh managed to escape your lips.

It wasn’t fair, how time sashayed away, but there were no seconds left to spare to sulk about it, so you caressed the tranquility Soonyoung’s face possessed and left a lingering peck upon it. Knowing him, you’d expected him to grip your waist and pull you down with him into the waters of his joyous yet yearning ways but the coal haired boy enveloped you in an enticing embrace and with his lips hovering slightly above your ear, whispered, “Tell him to get ready.”

“I swear to God, I hate basketball,” your brother exhaled out in utter annoyance, to which you furrowed your brows at.

You always shifted in your seat restlessly, your heart palpitating at an ungodly speed of McQueen, eyes sought frantically to avoid meeting your brother’s, upon the dreaded word of “basketball” ringing in your ears. It wasn’t that you abhorred it, no, not at all; you absolutely appreciated the art of dunking and the pleasing note of swish through the hoop, but just not the people you knew personally who partook in it.

There’s always a Montague and Capulet narrative happening somewhere in the universe, always, and it just so happened that you were struck with the curse by some godforsaken entity of destiny of landing a role in your life as the fresh faced, ever so naive, youngest member of the Capulets–Juliet. And you dreaded the direction your supposed fairytale was headed the first time your boyfriend asked you to watch his basketball game, which oddly enough, was the same one your brother requested you to “bring all your hot friends” to.

As strange as it sounded, it wasn’t your brother’s undeniable libido for your friends that irked you and made you hesitate going to a basketball game, to which you’ve never thought twice about before, but it was the statement of, “God I am going to crush number 10’s ass.”

Number 10. Number fucking 10. Of course, it had to be the player that sweat through blue polyester and nylon, donning number 10 in white on the front and back. It could have been player number 13 or 17, for God’s sake it could have even been a negative number sported on the jersey, yet it all had to align in the cosmos to be player number 10.

You didn’t certainly deem ESP to be something legitimate, but on that day you swore to god your mind fucked you royally in the ass and placed you in Soonyoung’s dorm room the night before. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, nothing but the sight of a teenage boy’s niche, because a lot of basketball players had to have chosen the number 10 for their jersey, right?

The environment malfunctioned instantaneously with the repetition of “I am going to crush number 10’s ass” circling about a short circuit in your mind. From that moment onward, the sight of the jersey was unquestionably more radiant that it could have ever been, with the blinding, white number ten atop Soonyoung’s chair cackling obstreperously at your oh shit moment. Tuning in to your brother slander your university’s rival, Soonyoung’s school, was always such a joy (not) to participate in.

Every “basketball” here and there snagged you by the ear and dragged you to hell and back with it, provoking the cracks of your palm to drench in sweat and legs to quiver more than you had felt around Soonyoung before dating him.

“Yeah I mean it’s not like you’ve worked your entire ass off the past 4 years or so to even set foot on the college court you've been dreaming of since you were 13!” Diverting your brother’s mental debate on his love of the sport, it was a necessity to pluck something else from thin air to talk about, and not your school’s rival when they had games against each other, which was seemingly a bloodbath in their perspective.

Trying to escape your brother’s trash talk of Soonyoung’s team was walking through an eternal, pitch black, underground tunnel, no goddamn escape.

“They only got us last time because of number 10’s foolery. Jesus Christ, the kid better slow down or he’s wasting stamina. Can’t believe he holds the title of captain, like me. I motherfucking swear to God if I have to listen to his loud ass winning chant–” yadah yadah, number 10 this, number 10 that.

You would have dozed off to your brother’s lovely lullaby of scorn towards your boyfriend had it not been for a text…from your boyfriend.

[spoonyoung]

hii hiiiii heyyyy hello bby Hhhii babe i miss youuuuu hi!

[y/n]

i can tell u’re tired :( don’t be

[spoonyoung]

he's going to crush me dang flabbit

y/n

so ur nervous ??? bby it’s just a game istg,,both of you treat it like warfare

[incoming call: spoonyoung]

Shit, what the hell? This bitch, right now? In this economy, at this time?

Inside your chest was a drumline pounding, giving it their all, threatening to burst out and announce to your brother that “Hey, your rival is dating your sister! They’re probably going to fuck later but you don’t know about any of it!”

You would plummet into poignancy if you didn’t pick up his call, because there was no chance you could see him everyday, so honestly fuck that you guys attended different schools, and resorting to calling each other did bring both of you to ease, but not at this goddamn, forsaken time, with one you love phoning you with 17,000 vibrations per second, and the other idiot you were practically forced to love, perched next to you, indignantly gripping the wheel with such force you couldn’t decide which one generated more turbulence within you.

Tensely clutching what was now a scorching piece of metal, you held it up conscientiously to your ear, and forced yourself to breathe out calmly and collectively. Every single mention, tidbit and strand, bob and fragment of Soonyoung that was mentioned around you when you were with your brother grabbed your trachea in its firm hold and forced the wind out of you.

“Hey, Hoshi,” you managed to choke out in a level headed manner.

Hoshi. That was what you and Soonyoung agreed to nickname him if you ever picked up a call from him around your brother or his teammates, but god forbid you were actually allowed to have a life of any sort!

“Babe,” Soonyoung mewled out from the other line, “I actually can’t do this. Don’t tell him, but your brother is really good...of course he is.”

Frowning because of Soonyoung’s lack of usual mirth and brimming confidence, you sighed, “If you let it get to you, then your thoughts affect your actions, and you don’t want that to happen right? You’ll be fine...and I’m not just saying this to say something, but you’re really good too, and you can’t let one person bring your entire mood down...even if...you know…”

“Will you at least come with me to my dorm after the game?”

“Oh you know I’ll be doing more than that,” giggling into your phone, trying to sound as enticing as possible, completely engrossed in this very conversation, as it was all the time talking with Soonyoung.

Both of you had a habit of drastically turning your talks from upside downs to those of obvious elation. They were conversations sometimes needed to be kept in the comforting privacy, selfishly not wanting to let anyone else in on the baby i missed you’s and the do you need anything from the boba shop’s and literally you don’t have the right to look this good’s.

Startled by the grunting and hacking oh so wonderfully expired by the total jackass to your left, you contended to the third degree, with the patience that was never really there starting to thin out, “Do you need something?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Soonyoung to call coincidentally at the times you were with—more like right next to—his rival, probably because his

[popcorn-kitten]

new hiveswap info and development timelines just dropped on the Kickstarter ✌️

Over the years, a lot of misinformation, as well as deliberate disinformation, has spread around about the history of Hiveswap. The purpose of this post is to clarify these matters for backers who've been wondering what the truth is.

The Kickstarter was planned by the What Pumpkin business development team in mid-2012. One member of the team was a crowdfunding specialist who led the planning process and managed the contracts with the developer. Prior to the Kickstarter opening for pledges, What Pumpkin worked out a plan for a flexible game concept that could be refined according to how much the campaign ultimately brought in. As Hussie was still working on Homestuck full time at this point, the plan was to hand over his game concept and story outline to a development company that could deliver the project.

The crowdfunding campaign finished out at a gross total of $2,485,506, as well as a gross total of $207,930 from PayPal pledges. But because of platform fees, as well as the costs of producing and shipping merchandise to backers of the campaign, the effective budget was significantly lower than the gross pledged total:

The above deductions from the gross total do not include taxes.

After determining the final budget for the game, What Pumpkin signed an agreement with the contracted game company (hereafter “GC”) to develop Hussie’s game concept. WP and GC entered into a development contract on November 30, 2012, shortly after the conclusion of the Homestuck Kickstarter. WP paid $788,000 to GC in late 2012 for development.

Because there was an understanding that delivering the complete game development documents would take some time, during which it would be difficult for GC to make meaningful progress on the Hiveswap game build, GC inquired about getting involved with other Homestuck-adjacent projects to do immediate work. WP let GC know about the Act 7 animation plans. With an assurance that this work could be done in parallel with a flexible timeline and would not impact the development cycle of Hiveswap itself, Hussie and What Pumpkin saw this as a good opportunity to establish a working relationship with this organization prior to the start of development and agreed to contract GC to do animation work for the Act 7 project. WP and GC agreed that this project would have a separate budget from the Hiveswap Kickstarter money, paid for from WP’s regular operating funds. As the existence of this animation itself would not be revealed until its release in 2016, this was not publicly announced at the time. GC and the lead animator on the project specifically requested not to be credited upon release of the animation.

Hussie initiated the “Megapause” on April 14, 2013 in order to devote his full attention to finalizing the Hiveswap development documents. What Pumpkin soon provided its story documents so that GC could formally begin core systems development. In July of 2013 WP and GC mutually agreed to push back GC’s deliverable dates without penalty. Hussie would share an update in 2013 detailing the state of predevelopment:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/14293468/homestuck-adventure-game/posts/708686

In 2013 following receipt of WP’s deliverables, GC enthusiastically assured WP that it was positioned to begin development. GC would deliver its first prototype in early 2014.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qSXwWKD5Km1yL-3Cj_W5IevW-IA978zJ/view?usp=sharing

This prototype, linked above, was sent to WP on 2/18/14. At this point, it was becoming a significant concern among backers that WP had yet to show proof that the game was being made, so WP was looking for any sort of tangible progress update from GC that was suitable to share with the public. But Hussie and WP found the quality of the prototype somewhat alarming, and decided that sharing any shots from the game would only cause embarrassment for GC. Nevertheless, WP was still willing to assume that this was a very early draft of something that would develop into a more promising product soon, and gave GC some more time to improve on it.

But the improvements didn’t come. No other advancements on the prototype were ever made. After waiting weeks with no update other than assurances that progress was carrying on smoothly, Hussie initiated the “Gigapause” both to take care of personal matters and later to get directly involved in the development of the game himself. He decided to move to southern California from the east coast in hopes that working directly with the GC could help them overcome whatever obstacles they were facing with Hiveswap’s development. GC responded positively to the prospect of Hussie’s involvement, but when he made the move and tried to coordinate a time to visit the GC offices and meet, GC insisted it was a bad time due to office renovations and a busy schedule. Here is a timeline with quotes from emails exchanged between Hussie and GC:

May 12, 2014 - from Hussie to GC

“Just letting you know I actually moved to the west coast recently. I'm only an hour or so away from LA now.

I could drive down and check out the office, see how things are going with the game and animation in person some time soon. Is there a time that would work for you guys? In a week or two maybe?”

May 15, 2014 - from GC to Hussie

“That's awesome about being on the west coast. It'd be great to have you come to the studio.

Dev has slowed a bit on our end, as we wanted to take a step back and really evaluate what was needed and the best way to achieve the features that have been coming online in the docs. We're continuing to break that all down so we can build and plan most effectively moving forward. We also wanted to find some simple formats for input from your writing team for dialogue content and are getting that squared away.

The best time to come by would actually be right after E3. Things are a bit nuts until then.”

May 18, 2014 - from Hussie to GC

“[Name redacted], sounds good. I'll set aside some time after E3 to make the drive down. As we approach the date, just let me know what works for you.”

E3 was June 10-12, 2014. GC did not invite Hussie to visit at this time.

Hussie and WP representatives were in LA over July 4th weekend, 2014. When they inquired about visiting the offices again they were still not welcome. A GC representative insisted that they meet at a restaurant instead. Yet GC continued to telegraph that they were receptive to the idea of inviting Hussie to the office well into the summer:

Aug 18, 2014 - from GC to Hussie

“We'd love to set up a new time for Andrew to come to the studio as well as a skype chat to meet the other team members.”

Despite apparent enthusiasm about meeting with Andrew in their email correspondence, GC continued the pattern of refusing to meet at the office or supply any signs of progress on the prototype.

Over that summer, GC delivered several pieces of concept art that WP had been requesting since January. Hussie did his best to present this publicly as a positive development as WP felt it would be counterproductive to the project and harmful to GC to publicly detail the development troubles at the time.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/14293468/homestuck-adventure-game/posts/883860

There was no indication from GC that the Act 7 animation project was in any way in conflict with Hiveswap development. GC was enthusiastic about taking on this project, and bidded against other animators for the contract. They saw it as a useful tie-in to concept art work on Hiveswap, as GC leadership conveyed in an email to WP in early 2013:

WP also does not have any reason to believe that the Act 7 project in practice created a conflict that was not disclosed by GC to WP. Act 7 was a 2D animation project, and Hiveswap at the time was a 3D game, so it did not pull GC’s programmers or 3D artists away from work on Hiveswap. GC never mentioned the development needs of a separate project at all to WP, or cited any such reason as distracting from work on Hiveswap; GC instead repeatedly provided WP with various assurances that everything was still fine with Hiveswap.

Had GC communicated that they had scheduling conflicts or some other impediment preventing them from developing Hiveswap, WP would have terminated the contract even sooner.

WP moved to terminate the agreement with GC late summer of 2014, and Hussie pivoted towards establishing a new independent game studio while consulting with a designer who had stepped up into a leadership position during the GC development period. That individual lived in NYC, which is why that location was chosen to establish the new studio rapidly. They helped build the studio through a local network of professional contacts. While this “What Pumpkin NYC” studio shared a name with What Pumpkin, it’s important to note that all of WP NYC’s studio staff save for the aforementioned individual were hired without any prior affiliation with WP and thus had no association with the GC contract. WP documented this development on Kickstarter on October 30th, 2014. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/14293468/homestuck-adventure-game/posts/1035099

At this point, negotiations were very amicable; both parties agreed the project simply wasn’t turning out to be a good fit for GC, and were both ready to move on. There were no signs given at all that WP was about to have trouble recovering the remaining funds.

WP is legally permitted to discuss details of the resolution of the dispute only under very specific circumstances. WP may make additional disclosures outside of this post to individual backers in accordance with legal obligations.

Following resolution of the GC contract, in Spring 2015 the WP NYC studio was running at full capacity on Hiveswap. The main problem was the fact that WP management was blindsided by the revelation that much less money would be coming back than expected. The WP NYC project manager had designed the schedule based on the good faith presumption that most of the development funds would be recouped. When it was finally revealed the return was far short of what was expected, and the repayment plan could in no way keep up with the schedule as currently drafted, it threw the project into a period of chaos as plans were quickly redrawn. The length of Act 1 was slashed, and other modifications were made to try to fit the rest of Act 1 into the newly shortened runway. But in the end, the revisions still weren't enough to save the game as it existed, and the studio needed to be closed in order to reserve what funds remained to finish the project in some form.

This may have come across as a sudden or spontaneous decision. Part of this is because the WP NYC senior staff and WP ownership were doing everything in their power to save the project, including injecting WP regular operating funds into the project, until it was determined that going any further would be disastrous for the future of Hiveswap. Another is that WP was legally unable to give any detailed disclosures about the financial troubles, even to many of the WP NYC staff.

It should also be noted that originally the NYC studio was not going to be permanently closed, but only frozen for a reassessment of the project. But during this freeze period, there were some dramatic events. One staff member behaved in a destructive and threatening manner. For the protection of those involved, details shouldn't be disclosed. But these events made navigating the post-freeze issues impossible. Communication between ownership, management and staff broke down because of these events, and the freeze turned into full closure. This version of the project was then abandoned for many reasons, including these events.

Some misinformation claims that at the time the WP NYC studio was shuttered, its iterations of Act 1 and 2 were complete. This is wrong. Act 1 was very far from a shippable state and absolutely no work on Act 2 had been completed besides some concept and 3D art. Here you can see a video documenting one of many major bugs with critical path progression in the final build produced by WP NYC, where it becomes impossible to re-focus on the Simon Says toy if Joey fails and then exits out of the puzzle:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1M2mmkMx8Wkwp1VU_5IpMKDvngmUFS0IG/view?usp=sharing

At the point the WP NYC studio was frozen it was still difficult to finish a full run of the critical path without the debug tool, and the UI was far from complete. With that build, Act 1 ended the moment Joey passed through the portal on Earth. The current version of Act 1, where Joey makes it to Alternia and meets Xefros, is more indicative of the original length of the NYC version of Act 1. Not only did it need to be slashed from what the original script proposed, the NYC version of Act 1 still wasn't that close to resembling a shippable product after those changes were made.

Because of the amount of time and resources already devoted to this project, WP was initially very reluctant to lay anyone off or scrap the work being done. It was for this reason that the studio stayed open for months after the contract with GC was resolved; WP made every effort to deliver a game with that team, but at the time WP NYC was shuttered, the funds just weren't there to keep the studio running at its current burn rate and schedule slips. The game was never going to reach delivery with the funds available. The studio urgently needed to be frozen for a full reassessment, and then it was closed after the freeze due to the reasons stated above. This was the only course of action that could have saved the project.

To WP's knowledge every artist whose work was used in the final release of Act 1 was included in the credits. The final version of Act 1 was in large part built off concept art and storyboards drawn during the WP NYC era, and many of the artists who made them continued to work on the team that produced the final version of Act 1; the roadmap for the completion of Act 1 was specifically planned because WP had determined that the existing 2D concepts could easily be refined into a final product that would both be visually appealing and more economic to produce. Unfortunately due to the transition to 2D WP no longer had a place for the 3D artists or the original 3D engine, and all of those assets were dropped. They were not used as a basis for the finished assets in Act 1, and visual similarities to WP NYC 3D assets are due to the fact that final Act 1 assets are in large part refinements of the original concept art. Any artist whose work was used incidentally was included in Additional Contributions.

Both the GC and NYC phases of Hiveswap were setbacks to the overall fulfillment of the project, but not insurmountable. WP reorganized the budget to establish a new version of the studio, and Act 1 was released two years after the closure of NYC.

As an addendum, WP has identified the primary source of a disclosure to a well-circulated document of the Hiveswap development process. WP has been aware of a pattern of false claims this former employee has made since the end of their employment at the beginning of 2014. As this individual was not present during the end of the development contract with GC, nor the WP NYC development period, all of the information they have shared is based on speculation and conjecture.

At this time, WP does not wish to invite more controversy into the lives of anyone previously involved with this project, and considers these matters to have been resolved long ago. The goal for years has been to turn the page on flawed attempts by earlier studios, and simply move forward and bring Hiveswap to completion without sparking the chaos, disruption, and threats to personal safety that would have resulted from disclosing many of the details stated above. Doing so would only make it more difficult for the staff to rebuild the project during these periods immediately following the termination of the GC agreement and closure of the NYC studio. Since preservation of the project was the primary responsibility to the backers, making destructive disclosures that put the project at risk along the way would have been at odds with that responsibility. This policy also served to protect individuals from personal or professional harm, including those who were responsible for serious setbacks with the project. Please respect the privacy of any persons affiliated with GC and WP NYC.

[heroineimages]

I posted 2,192 times in 2021

226 posts created (10%)

1966 posts reblogged (90%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.7 posts.

I added 2,513 tags in 2021

#character art - 414 posts

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Longest Tag: 63 characters

#a mutual from my ssh blog who i also got to know here on tumblr

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Drider of the Red Knight

(Art by @nutellarella​)

So I finally finished a draft of a story I started like five years ago and have worked on intermittently since. The story features my Drider paladin Elinda, detailing her escape from the Underdark and eventual reunification with her girlfriend, Farina. Also features cameos from @wearepaladin​‘s Drow paladin character, Sayir Nerazon and her sister, Matron Zyr.

**********

“And you’re sure you won’t need anything else?” Sayir asked as she helped Nell tighten the straps on my breastplate. It was a Mithral plate blackened to a charcoal color, magically reinforced, and enchanted against Death magic. The armor’s straps and clasps hadn’t been made with Driders in mind, however, so suiting up required all the help I could get.

“No time,” I apologized, donning my helmet. “We need to get out of here before they track us. It’s not too late to escape with us,” I added, looking back to double-check my burden. All four of the Halfling children we’d rescued were tucked into the heavy, darkwood chest strapped to my thorax. One of the few benefits to this damned Drider form was my ability to carry passengers. We’d bundled the poor tiny things in deep-rothe fur for padding, then secured them to the sides of the chest to keep them from bouncing around.

Sayir shook her head at my offer. “Thank you, my friend, but if Torm believes I’m able to do good here in Ched Nasad, I am willing to accept his guidance.”

Given the rarity of Drow paladins along the Sword Coast, it was natural that Sayir and I would have known of each other, despite her allegiance to Torm and mine to the Red Knight. That we first met here in the Underdark, of all places, right under Lolth’s nose, reflected our respective gods’ understated sense of irony.

“Thank Matron Zyr for us, then,” I said, taking up my glaive. I wore a pair of scimitars for backup and carried a pouch full of assorted potions—all provided by Matron Zyr to help us escape from one of her rivals. She’d also given us a map to a hideaway a few miles north of Ched Nasad. Our instructions were to hide out there and wait a few days for our pursuit to cool off. Once the coast was clear, Zyr would send us a guide to take us further north.

“She actually wanted me to relay her thanks,” Sayir admitted, smirking a bit. “Your escape makes at least two of her rivals look incompetent—and might get some of their guards and agents killed—so she was happy to help outfit your venture. Though she urges you to not get caught or killed,” she added. “No doubt they’d trace it back to us.”

“The wee ones are secure,” Nell said, checking our passengers one last time before closing and latching the lid. She checked her crossbow, mace, and dagger, then climbed on my back facing backward to use the chest as cover. We’d drilled holes on the front side so the tiny ones could breathe.

A red-bearded shield-dwarf cleric of Gorm Gulthyn, Nell had been captured a few months ago, during a mission to rescue a family of Halfling nobles from Duergar slavers. Her expedition was ambushed, leaving her as the only survivor. We first met in the arena, condemned to die fighting in the slave pits of Ched Nasad.

I was taken seven years ago, on a failed expedition against an Underdark hobgoblin chief. After I was sold to the Drow, the clerics of Lolth decided to insult the Lady of Strategy by transforming one of her paladins into a Drider and forcing me to fight in the arena. The years of fighting had given me plenty of opportunity to get used to my new form in combat. I was strong and skilled enough now that the arena masters had to send at least two hook horrors against me to make for a challenging fight.

Meeting Sayir turned out to our saving grace. I’d been skeptical when I heard Torm’s only Drow paladin had returned to Ched Nasad to aid her sister, Matron Zyr of House Nerazan. Sayir discovered who I was during one of the matches, after witnessing me Smite a Duergar gladiator and later Lay Hands on a wounded Ettin fighting on my team. Through Zyr’s agents, Sayir helped Nell and me locate and rescue the surviving children from the abducted Halfling family.

It was a hollow victory, given that their parents and two siblings died in servitude or on some altar to Lolth, not to mention the deaths of Nell’s compatriots. But I could understand why Nell wanted to salvage something positive out of her failed quest.

Also wearing a helm and breastplate, Nell used a leather harness to lash her back against mine, keeping her from falling off during what was likely to be a bumpy ride. I stood and stretched my legs and body, readying myself for our escape.

“May Tyr’s blessing be with you, my friends,” Sayir said, clutching my hand one last time.

“And you, Sayir,” I told her.

“Aye,” Nell said from behind me. “We could nae do this without ye.”

I exhaled and took one last look at the abandoned ninth-level hobgoblin tenement we’d hidden in the last two days while Sayir gathered what we needed to escape. With practiced caution, I crept up the webbed wall of the abandoned building, reflexively reaching back to hold my burden in place. Peeking through the hole in the wall, I made damn sure no one was lurking about before easing myself through the gap and up onto the roof.

I gauged the distance from our building to the next, got a running start, and bounded from our webbed building to the next. From there I leapt and scurried across the roofs, knowing I’d eventually be spotted, but hoping to get as far across the city as possible, as quickly as possible. Far above us the wealthy members of Drow society lived in their homes amid the hardened, shimmering webs. All of the ways out were on the upper levels; we just needed to reach one of the caverns headed north toward the dwarven tunnels known as the Fardrimm.

I was partway up a webbed column leading to the eighth level when I heard an order to halt in Duergar. Not looking back I clambered further up the webbed monstrosity, into what passed for Ched Nasad’s business district. More people started to yell in alarm as I leapt from building to building and web to web. In no mood to get caught, I stopped for no one—especially after the first few arrows and crossbow bolts hissed by.

Leaping up onto a ‘thoroughfare’ web on the sixth level, I grimaced as a pair of bolts deflected off my breastplate. Goblinoids, Duergar, and Drow citizens yelled and scattered as a Drow sorceress and three Duergar with crossbows charged in to block our escape. The sorceress barked orders as she unleashed a barrage of Magic Missiles. Two bolts ricocheted off my armor while the Missiles dissipated as they struck.

The sorceress must be a trainee, I decided as I charged the group. Rushing in, I swung my glaive at the first Duergar, partly bisecting him as I trampled the next crossbowman in line. The sorceress dove for refuge amid the startled civilians as I slew the third dwarf with my backswing.

Nell shouted a warning as a half-dozen Drow arrows arced toward us from somewhere in the webbing above. I whirled around to let my armor deflect most of the missiles. One missed while another thudded into the chest strapped across my back. Grabbing one of the slain Duergar, I hurled the body in the archers’ general direction before charging toward the nearest pillar of webs.

To take the archers out of play, I clambered up the far side of the next webbed pillar and onto the fifth level. Four arrows struck my left side simultaneously, one of them penetrating between two plates in my armor. I snarled as I pulled it from my side, glancing about for the culprit. A Drow ranger in blackened Mithral chainmail crouched atop a domed building of shimmering webs, readying another attack. I charged northward up a street, hoping the other buildings and fleeing civilians might disrupt her aim.

The ranger seemed to pace me just fine, leaping from building to building and taking shots on the fly with her longbow. I realized she must be using a Longstrider spell as she ran ahead and barked orders to a group of bow-toting sentries. More arrows joined the ranger’s as the sentries opened up with bows and crossbows.

I felt a sharp pain and then a burning as one of the arrows caught me in the side, in front of my left front leg. Thankfully in this form about all their poison could do was burn a little.

Buggering this noise, I turned and charged the archers’ line. Having more places to run than the Duergar from earlier, the sentries scattered, only one too slow to escape. My glaive sliced his leg most of the way off as I passed. Behind me I heard Nell’s crossbow click, followed by a yelp of pain from another sentry.

Apparently deciding the arrows weren’t working, the ranger drew a Mithral longsword and leapt in front of me to block my escape. She parried my first glaive-stroke, ducking in effort to get underneath me, forcing me to leap to my right to avoid being stabbed in my spidery thorax. I whirled around as I landed, facing her as she charged again. It was a stalling tactic, and we both knew it—she couldn’t beat me, so she was stalling for reinforcements.

See the full post

107 notes • Posted 2021-02-28 16:14:15 GMT

#4

I needed a name for a colonial Irish tavern for this story, so I looked up tavern names on Fantasy Name Generator. These are awesome! I think I’m going with The Mighty Bachelor.

109 notes • Posted 2021-03-15 19:13:06 GMT

#3

Villainess Showcase: the Unstoppable Melissa Foddebrat

So I’ve been meaning for a few years to offer a writeup on Tapastic’s amazing comic Beware the Villainess. As my longtime readers know, I love a well-written villainess as much as a well-written heroine, and the Lady Melissa Foddebrat is one of my absolute favorites. The story is an official translation of a Korean comic, available on Tapas (with Ink, btw, so it costs money to read). It offers amazing art, a unique story, and an excellent villainess. Discussion below the cut!

(tl,dr/spoiler-free: Melissa has amazing presence and presentation as a villainess. She's not afraid to get in the faces of entitled jerks, her fashion is magnificent, she maintains people's loyalty without resorting to fear or gaslighting, she knows how to project an intimidating demeanor, and she defies the story world’s expectations all over the freaking place. I definitely recommend!)

All screencaps taken from the comic. Story credits:

See the full post

109 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 17:52:59 GMT

#2

Pride Flags on Hero Forge!

Hey, so Hero Forge apparently added Pride flag decals to their selection. I don’t know if it’s a permanent addition or just something for Pride Month, but I thought my readers might be into it. Praetorian: https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D12004932/ Signifier: https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D15661165/

171 notes • Posted 2021-06-06 02:32:24 GMT

#1

Y’know, another thing I’d love to see more often in fiction? I’d like to see more royal siblings who are ride-or-die for each other. I’d like to see warrior-princes who are genuinely honored to command their sister’s army and never take advantage of their soldiers’ loyalty to form a military coup. I’d like to see more popular younger siblings who tell their hangers-on to piss off when one suggests they discredit and muscle out the older sibling who’s heir-apparent. More regents who don’t take over while the true king is away. More regents who happily return power to their departed brother’s family when the heir-apparent comes of age.

I mean, in general, I’d love to see more siblings in fiction who are ride-or-die for each other, but most especially I’d like to see more royal sibs who’re loyal to each other to the end.

3017 notes • Posted 2021-03-07 20:23:29 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[catboylupin]

you have rly interesting takes abt wolfstar!! I was wondering if you had any head canons about the Prank like why Sirius did it and what Remus' reaction was?

hello and thank you and i’m So sorry that this has been sitting in my drafts for like Weeks at this point.... i’m physically incapable of doing anything intellectually demanding in a timely matter and this is such a hard topic because, like, i don’t know!! i’m not very well acquainted with the Fandom Mythology surrounding the Prank or the mainstream interpretation of events so i really don’t know what to make of it, especially in terms of sirius’s motivation. here are a few things that i referenced when typing this all out: meta meta/fic fic beautiful art 

the first thing that is interesting to me, and something to keep in the back of our minds when thinking about this, is that when discussing the prank in the shack during PoA, sirius says that “it served [snape] right.” 

also i think that the song hospital by the modern lovers possesses some outstanding post Prank vibes...

ok so re: sirius’s motivation. i don’t know. i think it was a combination of things. i don’t even think that sirius entirely knew why he did it, or what there was to gain. 

i guess the thing to sort out is to what extent sirius factored remus into the equation. was he not thinking about remus at all and how it would affect him and just wanted to hurt snape because he hated him, or was he like “this is for remus and remus will think it’s funny too”?

i think that he felt slightly goaded by snape because snape was being a massive asshole trying to get them expelled, and he also just did not like him at all. like, the most obvious motivation or end goal in sirius telling him is that he just wanted to scare snape so he would leave them alone and also it would be a little funny because hahaha he is a slimey wizard nazi (at age 15/16 do you think sirius would be politically advanced enough to have a ‘punching nazis’ outlook on snape? i don’t know)

and i don’t think that he ever seriously thought that remus would react well (like, how could he? sirius had to have known that remus’s worst fear ever was hurting someone). and he was literally risking the entire school finding out he was a werewolf. but maybe a small part of sirius was like “take that snape!! that’s what you get for bullying my beautiful mysterious friend!! remus will love this lol”

but i think the thing that makes the most sense is that he wasn’t thinking about remus that much and didn’t think he would react well.

and here i where you can start thinking about sirius’s upbringing and how that affected how he viewed werewolves/remus. 

i think that sirius was probably raised surrounded by some pretty intense anti-werewolf beliefs and he dealt with remus being a werewolf by 1. separating remus from the wolf and 2. kind of like romanticizing it. so much of sirius’s attraction to remus stemmed from this sort of fascination.. james was so similar to sirius and generally uncomplicated, but remus, even though he was kind of weird looking, always sort of elicited this morbid curiosity from him. and he saw remus’s lycanthropy as something he could fix, or at least help (see: the animagus thing, my personal headcanon that he was very into taking care of remus during their relationship). remus was his tragic werewolf friend. but remus never thought that sirius understood his lycanthropy the way remus wanted him to, that there was always this sort of tension, a lingering sense of “you think you’re so different from your family, but you’re not really.”  

sirius could have thought that snape actually knew about remus and wanted to make him prove that he knew, like: “sirius, i know what remus’s secret is, hint hint wink wink” “okay, if you really know then go to the shrieking shack,” like snape kind of goaded sirius into telling him, and sirius thought that he would know better. but that is just such a profoundly stupid thing for sirius to do, and i feel like putting too much blame on snape is being too generous to sirius.

leescoresbies has an interesting headcanon that the prank happened around the time sirius ran away from home and he was thus was very emotionally volatile. and so it was in part a result of sirius’s trauma/anger/joy, and i like that idea, those emotions had to have been a factor. and if you are someone that has a really hard time reconciling with sirius’s shitty behavior as a teen, that’s kind of an easy/ canon compliant way of saying “yeah, he was an asshole, but there was also this other thing going on...etc.” however, i don’t think that was the only reason, or even the main reason. i think that sirius is a deeply flawed person and thinking about the prank from the perspective of said flawed-ness makes his and remus’s relationship all the more complicated/interesting. 

and unfortunately a lot of this sort of boils down to whether or not sirius wanted to kill or seriously injure snape. those were the stakes he was dealing with in this situation. i don’t think that sirius wanted to kill him, just because that’s not really the sort of thing teenagers do, you know. and, as further evidenced by how he treated kreacher, sirius doesn’t always treat those he considers lesser than him with any sort of respect. maybe sirius just didn’t care that much about whether or not he died. he knew on an intellectual level that he was sending snape to his likely death, but maybe he just didn’t make that calculation in the moment? like sirius was so used to not facing consequences that maybe he thought things wouldn’t turn out that badly. 

i can understand, maybe, in sirius’s version of events, in his own reckless, teenage narrative, that he thought it would be okay to hurt snape. but remus? did he seriously fail to make the calculation that he would be turning him into a murderer? what sirius did was such a major, major trespass of trust/friendship in a way that is actually sort of unforgivable.

doesn’t sirius say in PoA “i’d rather die than betray my friends!” ? well, he did : / he betrayed remus..

and i think that remus would be massively upset and i don’t think he ever really completely forgave him.

when did this happen? 5th or 6th year? i think that by this time remus would kind of be relegated to a state of melodramatic, shame-ridden misery that came along with being sort of in love with sirius. and so the prank really tore him apart, because of course it would. remus was so used to being defined by his lycanthropy, used to facing discrimination, and his friends were his one refuge from that. but then sirius who he loved used him basically as a means to an end. what sirius did was incredibly exploitative— he exploited remus’s marginalized identity for personal gain without thinking about how it would affect him. and i think that remus really did care about him enough to want to forgive him. he probably felt like he had to forgive him (his friends were too important for him to lose, and, importantly, there was probably this feeling of “i am a werewolf and therefore i need to be extraordinarily forgiving in order to be perceived as non threatening, and this is just how the world treats people like me and i can’t and shouldn’t fight back”). and those are just such deeply fucked up feelings to feel towards a friend, especially one you admire and have a major soul crushing crush on.

i think that there was a period of time after the fact when they weren’t really talking, remus was very rightfully upset, everyone was angry at sirius... i think that sirius apologized, but sort of begrudgingly. because twenty years later he still thought that snape got what he deserved. 

at times i think that remus was someone who saw his relationships as very transactional. and initially he felt in debt to the other marauders because of the animagus thing and just because they were his friends. and, as dear @direwolf-summer said in this post, the prank changed the dynamic between remus and sirius: remus was no longer the one in debt, sirius was. and that is such an interesting point. remus starts demanding more from him and he finally feels that, even though sirius was really popular and closer to james or whatever, they were on even standing. this is how he was able to be more forward about his feelings— sirius stopped being this precious object who demanded endless patience in order to retain as a friend (or so he thought, this is remus’s insecurity showing). he stopped feeling so bad about having a crush on sirius. he’d be like “fuck you sirius. i’m in love with you. deal with it and you have to be nice about it in order to repay your debts.” like  he wouldn’t say that out loud but it would be in his internal monologue and he would kinda hint at it. 

there’s that line in eclipse and transit where remus says: “You say one thing and do another and half the time you don’t even try to say it, it’s like, I don’t know, like you’re daring me to leave. And everything—every single thing Sirius, it all comes back to January of sixth year, whether you’ll ever admit it or not. Or whether you even realize it” and i think it’s fitting. during fights remus probably would bring it up, and sirius would fail to understand why remus never got over it. like, sirius: “i apologized i was 15!!” and remus: “this is bigger than just that, what you did was emblematic of your flaws as a person and how even though you understand me more than almost anyone else you still don’t understand me completely and it frustrates me!!! and also i feel like you never fully understood that what you did was extraordinary fucked up.”

and i think that remus was so in love with sirius that he did forgive him, or otherwise allowed his love and affection to forget about it. but it was always bubbling under the surface...and that’s why their relationship was sort of volatile, that’s why he was so willing to believe that sirius was the spy (as in, “he betrayed me, why wouldn’t he have betrayed james and lily?”)

now i’m remembering when, in one of the snape’s memory /pensieve / flashback scenes in OotP, sirius says “i wish it was the full moon” and remus says, darkly, “you might.” now, we don’t know if that scene takes place before or after the Prank (before probably? idk), but i feel like it further compounds the extent to which sirius seems woefully unaware that remus is a werewolf and it’s not something he can separate from himself and that lycanthropy impacts every facet of his life. sirius came to understand it as just some fun thing to do every month. his sort of ignorance towards other people’s needs and experiences is also further evidenced by how he treated harry like he was james. sirius has a pretty good track record of taking other people’s pain and making into something for him to enjoy. and he doesn’t do so in a way that is entirely selfish either, i think he really thought he was helping harry and remus. maybe it all goes back to his family and childhood trauma or something (doesn’t everything? “it all started one afternoon in the 1960s..”)

[calboniferous]

In Theory

Work 1 in The Pen and the Sword aka. my jedi and academics AU

A stressed post-graduate anthropology researcher from Coruscant University enters the Jedi Archives for the first time and is promptly taken under the wing of one Master Archivist Jocasta Nu.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32355310

—

Master Jocasta Nu felt the visitor before she saw them. Stress and a frenetic energy radiated through the force tangled with the unique threads of emotion and colour that made up their signature.

Closing the book in front of her with a soft thud, mindful of its frayed edges, she appraised the blue nautolan hurrying towards her. Their worn brown coat was unbuttoned and struggling to stay onto their shoulders, saved by the strap of the bag hanging off one side which the nautolan had one arm wrapped around. Apparently, the bag’s tie had lost the battle against the tide of flimsy and datapads making the simple bag bulge obscenely.

Ah.

A scholar.

Like the many before them, they had come to Master Nu’s beloved archives in hope of finding salvation in its hallowed stacks. With her guidance, they always did and more often than not, they would return again. And again.

However, this scholar was not one that Master Nu had seen before and as they glanced wide-eyed at the towering shelves, shying away from passing Jedi, she surmised that the Jedi archives were unfamiliar to them also.

They reached her desk out of breath.

“I need books on Kante martial arts and history. Do you have books on Kante? If it has historical martial arts then that would be incredible but I’m setting the bar low. Really, the bar is non-existent. Should I even be setting a bar I don’t know- do you know what the Kante are? Were? They’re extinct”

“Young one, breathe.” Master Nu said, lifting her hand to interrupt the rush of words. Her brow softened in sympathy, “How about you start from the beginning and tell me what your thesis is and then we’ll go about finding resources.”

She signalled to one of the Padawans stacking holopads nearby for them to take over monitoring the main desk and led Tema to one of the many sunlit alcoves tucked between the buttresses.

Settling on a cushion across the low table from the sleep deprived nautolan, Master Nu pulled out her well-worn datapad, ready to formulate a list of texts to recommend for this student’s project. She had gathered quite the collection of such lists over the years and took great pride in curating them. Often, she would continue to add to them in her spare time so that when the person they had been made for returned, it was waiting and ready. And, if Master Nu happened to enjoy the thrill of a hunt for obscure references through her own archives every now and again, that was her own business.

Stylus in hand, she was ready to begin.

“You mentioned martial arts?”

“Right. Yes. I’m studying the fighting style of the Kante people which they used to reclaim their lands 7000 years ago after it was conquered in the Chandrillan Divide. The politics of the reclamation itself have been documented to death but there’s kriff all discussing how they actually fought,”

Master Nu hummed sympathetically, listening as a classic university post-graduate research tragedy poured out in all its glory. The purple shadows smeared under Tema’s dark eyes suggested that more than one night had been lost to this.

It was a credit to her Jedi training and skill as an archivist that Master Nu could write notes, elegant script flitting smoothly across the datapad without misspelling a single title or name, while offering comforting hums and interjecting words of encouragement where Tema faltered.

“So now I need to piece it together myself in order to build a theory on how the Kante people approached battlefield strategy,” Tema finished, fidgeting with their bag strap.

Setting her stylus down, Master Nu surveyed the drafted list with a critical eye. It was a daunting selection. She weighed the situation in her mind and carefully turned the datapad off, placing it down with a muted click of metal on the polished stone table.

“That’s quite the task you’ve got” Master Nu said, “more than an Honours project scope covers.”

She loathed to discourage any scholar but there were limits to the workload that could be shouldered and she had a strict honesty policy. With all her Jedi compassion and experience ad Head Archivist, Master Nu knew how to recognise when a student needed guidance in whittling down their research focus to a reasonable magnitude.

“I know,” Tema sighed, shoulders sagging, “I know but my project topic has already been approved by my supervisor.”

“Dear, your project as it stands is enough to satisfy a PhD and beyond. I can tell you are passionate about it but it’d be a tragedy for you to fail because you tried to complete years’ worth of work in the 10 months you have.”

The blue nautolan wilted a little, head tails curling.

“I don’t see what choice I have. I can’t form a thesis on the merits of Kante strategy without knowing how it worked at the individual level,” they said, resignation colouring their force signature grey with worry.

Master Nu paused, and after a moment spoke.

“Have you considered centring your project on the martial arts itself? At the individual level, as you say. Leaving the rest aside to focus on that should technically be within your project topic.”

Tema blinked, “That’s…that would work. Yes.”

Master Nu watched as they turned the idea over, considering how to approach it.

“Yes. That would make it more of a research-and-reconstruction project. A literature review with practical application.”

They gave a wry smile, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

Some of the frazzled emotion of their presence eased and a few threads of humour sparked in its wake.

“I could have saved myself from being sick from worry in the University ‘freshers yesterday.”

They flushed a little darker at that admission and Master Nu suppressed what would have been a rather unprofessional snort of amusement as she clicked the datapad back on. Ah, younglings. They never changed.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, dear. That amount of stress isn’t conducive to clarity of mind, I’d wager,” Master Nu soothed, deleting a few items from the list with a satisfied air, “You’re hardly the first person’s I’ve known to have an adverse reaction to academic stress. Now, I do believe this list is ready.”

Rising with more grace than her age suggested she was capable of, she smoothed the creases in her cream and straw-gold robes and led the way into the maze of columns and shelves. Tema followed a step behind in a manner that to any observers bore remarkable resemblance to a duckling following its mother – if ducklings were six-and-a-half feet tall, that is.

“Somehow I find it hard to imagine a Jedi getting sick from assignments,” they mused absentmindedly, tipping their head to catch some of the book titles they passed, “all this information – it’d be hard to fail.”

Master Nu chuckled at that, passing through an archway into a side corridor.

“I’m afraid it can happen to anyone. One of my agemates routinely emptied his stomach at the prospect of examinations – that one, in fact,” she said, gesturing to one of the bronze busts lining the hall. The metallic features gave the human man depicted a severe expression. In Master Nu’s opinion, it was rather true to life even if the beard was far to neatly sculpted.

“The poor man. Perfection was as much his vice as his virtue.”

She smiled fondly, crows’ feet crinkling with nostalgia at sharing this particular story – at sharing the humanity of someone so proud and distant both in life and artistic rendition.

Tema faltered and the markings on their head tails blanched light blue.

“Oh, uh, my condolences.”

“Hmm?” Master Nu turned to them, “Oh no, he’s not dead. He’s retired.”

“Oh,”

They blinked, nonplussed.

“This way, dear”

The pair continued on their winding path. Master Nu, frequently gesturing to some architectural feature or other with her datapad, began to explain how the Jedi Archival system worked, pausing every now and then to pull a tome from the shelves.

“It is what many have described as ‘archaic’,” she said, stepping deftly onto the fourth rung of a sliding ladder attached to one of the shelves to reach her next target, “but no one—and I mean no one—has said it is an ineffective system.

“At least not in my earshot,” she said with a laugh, pulling the volume from its place and passing it down to Tema. The rumours the initiates (and fully-grown Knights) liked to spread about Master Nu’s draconian defence of the archives may not be entirely accurate but were taken by most as a warning to avoid slandering the archive in her presence. She knew Tholme liked to stir the pot and recount tales of her lightsabre prowess to the initiates, no matter that the stories were thirty years out-of-date.

“That being said, it can take some getting used to. The Padawans and Knight Archivists are always around and willing to retrieve sources for our visitors.”

Master Nu dismounted from the ladder, blew dust from her sleeve, and turned a critical eye on to the stack of books and datapads in Tema’s arms that had been steadily growing in size. The scholar looked strong enough to take a couple more, taking into account that their bulging bag would not fit anything more inside.

“That’s the last one from this aisle.”

She clicked her tongue and marked a check on her list next to the sources they were borrowing. They were all copies, of course, or volumes easily enough to source a replacement that their loss wouldn’t be abhorrent. Nonetheless, clean records made maintaining the collection less stressful on her soul.

On that note, Master Nu was pleased to feel that Tema was no longer pouring stress into the force like an anxious firehose. And—

She stilled, tilting her head as a familiar presence tickled the edges of her senses.

“Master Nu?” Tema asked, noticing her change in manner.

“Nothing to worry about,”

She once again took the lead. Down the aisle, then one aisle to the left and as they rounded the corner Master Nu smiled at the sight before her.

A little blue and beige figure was hunched over a book resting on the floor, absentmindedly gnawing on her Padawan silka beads and completely oblivious to the world around her.

“Padawan Secura! Why am I not surprised?” Master Nu called lightly and the twi’lek girl jerked, breaking from her literature-induced reverie to scramble to her feet.

“I’m not skipping sabre class again. I swear!”

Had it been any other Padawan of Aayla’s age group, Master Nu would think that emphatic declaration of innocence meant the Padawan in question was skipping class. Skywalker came to mind as a repeat offender of that variety.

Only question was that Junior Padawan sabre classes were always on Taungsday afternoons—this afternoon—and had been since before Master Nu was a crecheling. She hummed, unconvinced.

“Knight Kenobi is doing catch-up lessons this week and he said my forms were good enough to skip.”

That explained it. It seemed only yesterday that he’d been roaming the archives as a padawan himself, tearing through histories of the planets he’d visited at Qui-Gon’s side with single-minded focus. Shame that his lineage had picked him up before her own could. He would have made a fantastic archivist despite his record of being convinced to scale the bookshelves whenever Vos got temple fever.

Well, at least Aayla’s fencing education was in good hands.

Master Nu beamed at Aayla, “Then good work padawan and, as you are free, would you like to join us in gathering sources for Scholar Induri here?”

Aayla brightened, “Absolutely!”

And then, remembering her diplomacy training, bowed to Tema, setting her Padawan beads swinging. “Nice you meet you, Scholar.”

She scooped up the book she had been reading and as she put it back in its slot, Master Nu glimpsed the title.

“Reading Bastilla Shan again are we Padawan?”

The padawan blushed, fiddled with her tunic and handily dodged the teasing with a question of her own, “What are we looking for, Master?”

“See for yourself, young one,” Master Nu passed over the datapad, pointing to the highlighted entries.

Aayla squinted at the handwriting for a second before passing the pad back and running away down the aisle, one hand skimming the shelf labels. Padawans were lovely to have around and, watching Aayla slide 4 meters down a ladder and return to them with a grin plastered across her face, Master Nu wondered if she should take another student. Or, better yet, invite her former Padawans around for tea to see if more Grandpadawans would be joining the lineage soon.

“Thank you, dear,” she gave Aayla a pat on the head, “I’ll leave you to your reading. Just don’t forget to remind your Master that he needs to renew the materials he borrowed last month.”

Then, she turned to Tema who hadn’t made so much as a peep the past five minutes, seemingly satisfied to observe the interaction.

“Let’s get these checked out so you can get to reading them.”

Back to the main desk, the archivist and scholar wandered, and a minute later there was a new name entered into the borrowing database.

“Again, thank you for everything, Master Nu” Tema said, gathering the stack back into their arms. They were a little overwhelmed but they were smiling.

“Dear, it’s no trouble. One last thing, are you planning on enlisting someone practised in martial forms in your project? Or were you aiming for a more theoretical illustration of your findings?”

Tema cast their eyes to one side and shifted their weight.

“Ideally, yes, but I have no idea where to find someone like that so…theoretical?”

They trailed off.

“Good. I’m free to ask around here, then,” Master Nu said, tugging Tema’s bag strap so it was in less immediate danger of falling of their shoulder.

“If you need any help at all, don’t hesitate to send me a message or drop by. My archive is always open,”

At that, she tucked a slip of flimsy with her com code underneath the top datapad in the stack and gave Tema a parting pat on the cheek. With hope in their step, the scholar passed back out the archive doors, into the sunlight of the hall beyond.

Content, Master Nu smiled and watched them go.

“Now,” she mused to herself, opening the roster of temple-bound jedi and beginning to peruse the list, “who to ask…”

Her thoughts turned to the bronze bust of a man whose devotion to esoteric research was only outmatched by his skill with a blade.

His legacy…

Her eyes caught on a name. Yes, that would do very nicely indeed.

In the interest of vetting the source she intended to recommend, Master Nu made a mental note to attend next week’s exhibition tournament.

[lady-bugginette]

Rose Painted Glasses (A Lila Exposed Fic)

First Next

Inspired by @chatonbean post. 

The first part is by another lovely user by the name of @time-is-a-pain. This is their original post here.

The part after this one, that I will make sure is indicated, is by another amazing user @lenoreofraven. Their original post is also here. Their entry is after the cut.

I want to quickly thank both of the amazing people above for letting me use their additions for setting up this fic. It is very much a collaborative effort between many talented writers, I cannot take entire credit for this. 😏

time-is-a-pain’s entry:

Nathaniel had noticed lately that a bunch of the art Lila claimed as hers were in wildly different styles. At first he tried to rationalize it, maybe she’d been branching out style-wise? Maybe she hadn’t actually found her own style yet? 

It got much harder to rationalize away the differences when he caught a glimpse of an oddly colored part of a background. Only a shade or two off, but it was there. And it looked like it might cover a signature? Now that he was thinking about it, only a few of the art Lila had shown the class had a signature.

It was harder, but it was Lila. They’d talked a lot about how horrible it felt to have your hard work stolen like that. She wouldn’t steal from anyone. Right?

Nathaniel shuddered, he hated the idea that someone would try claiming his work as their own. He made extra sure that his signature was on the picture, and would be hard to cover when he posted it to insta. H was proud of it, and no art thief would stop that.

And he was right to be proud. It quickly became one of his most popular posts. So when he got to school on Monday. and saw Lila showing off his work, he snapped at her.

Of course, most of the class took Lila’s side. But when Alix and Marinette got there, and saw what was happening, they took his side immediately.

“How can you prove it’s yours?” Kim asked. 

A chorus of agreement swept through the room. Nathaniel took a deep breath, his hands were trembling, and pulled out his sketchbook. Flipping to the right page, he stalked over to Lila’s desk, and slammed the book down in front of her.

There it was. The original sketch. Clear in view of the whole class. Nathaniel’s work.

Lila peeked out from behind her fingers when the class went deathly silent, and Alya pulled away from her. 

“How many others?” Nathaniel asked quietly, watching the panic appear, and get locked behind Lila’s mask. “Were any of them actually yours?” 

lenoreofraven’s entry:

“How could you say that? How could you do this? After all the conversations we had about art theft.” Lila exclaimed back, trying to extinguish the doubt in the eyes of  those that watched her. Not everyone was convinced. Alix stood by Nathaniel, trying her best to offer support. While Adrien gently touched Marinette’s wrist, as if signaling for her to stay back.

It was obvious Lila couldn’t win these artists over, artists who have had their work stolen. Instead her eyes settled to Ivan, Rose and Juleka. After the situation with XY, they were fuming the moment the accusation touched the air. It was their weak spot really. Took any logic they may have away.

“You said you wanted me to do a quick sketch, and lent me your notebook as I had left my tablet at home. Then you do this to me?” 

“Lila just stop it.” Marinette growled, but she wasn’t the audience for this little stunt. Lila could claim they were in France, and Marinette would check google maps to make sure they hadn’t moved. This was about everyone. 

Even Adrien, who glared at her from Marinette’s side, was part of the intended audience. As he could make, or break, her reputation if he so desired. Considering how Ivan responded to the demand. perhaps, just possibly, she could deal with two birds at once. Use this as Marinette was an expert on plagiarism, and if she picked the wrong side it could be ruin for her.

“Stop what? Trying to take credit for my own work? I know you don’t like me much, but do you honestly condone this? I thought you would be the first person to support the victim of art theft.” Marinette just looked back with a blank stare, not even humoring the accusation with a response.

All eyes were still on Lila and Nathaniel. Not ideal, but it could be managed. It was the wrong time for crocodile tears. Her eyes scanned the work again. When she had erased the signature from the upload she had been careful, after this she would start adding her own sign. For now she just needed proof. This was a draft, not the official upload. She just needed something.

“Maybe I have been experimenting with styles a bit, but this is mine. See, there’s an L, as in Lila. I made it subtle so it couldn’t be erased, like how you stitch your name into designs in clever ways, Marinette.” Lila explained, pointing at something that could be an L, but was just as likely to be miscellaneous lines. Alya, Sabrina, and a few others that were still on the fence squinted at it, tilting their heads to try and see it. The members of Kitty Section instantly took it as fact. Max, Alix and a few doubters all shook their heads, realizing the stretch.

Nathaniel glared back at her.

“That’s not an L. That’s just lines. I don’t erase signatures like some people because if you look on my insta it clearly had my signature, matches all my other work, and is clearly mine!”

“Then you must have added it. We all know how disrespectful you can be of other’s art.” Lila remarked, as she flinched away from Nathaniel. She made it as dramatic as possible, acting as if the artist would hit her. 

“LILA!” Snapped Alix, not sparing any notice for Ivan, who now stood as a shield for Lila.

Lila simply sighed with a shake of her head, moving slightly to the side so she could be seen, but Ivan still acted like a bodyguard.

“I know Marc didn’t want to mention it, but that couldn’t have been easy to witness. I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t here for it, but I do know you tore apart someone’s journal. I can’t imagine anyone doing that. It’s cruel. Sure you’re friends and have made up, now working on the comic, but doing that to someone’s notebook? I’d rather eat glass than have my precious sketchpads or notebooks damaged in anyway. I’m just saying, someone who does that may be the type of person to disrespect other people’s art.”

My entry:

Nathaniel flinched back, looking at the others in class. Rose and Juleka glared at him while Ivan stood in front of Lila, unmoving.

“How dare you!” Alix started toward Lila only to be held back by Kim. Max frowned at Lila while adjusting his glasses, he looked at the drawing again, and looked between Lila and Nathaniel.

“Don’t you dare talk about something you have no idea about- You Snake!”

Lila smiled her condescending smile at her opposers.

“It’s not my fault he caused an akuma because of his jealousy. I know he was angry with-”

Alix made another lunge for her, Kim had to quickly catch her body from the air before she could attack the other girl.

Marinette was fuming, she was burning with rage. Her face was slowly turning red, before she suddenly took out her phone. 

Adrien looked concerned. He could feel the heat coming off of her body. He looked to the windows, and the classroom door, fro any akumas. He knew it needed to be resolved, and fast. Rose and Juleka were yelling in defense of Lila, while Alix was screaming in defense of Nathaniel. Lila was still ‘cowering’ behind Ivan, and Nathaniel looked like he was on the verge of becoming another akuma. Adrien was about to speak up when someone else did.

“Actually-” A voice broke through the yells of the classroom. Alya looked uncomfortable, with Nino standing, just as uncomfortable, next to her.

Lila looked triumphant, she knew Alya would be on her side. She sent a smug look at the oposing group, one that earned a glare from Nathaniel, a growl from Marinette, and a lunge from Alix, again. 

Nino stepped forward, his expression placating.

“All we have to do is see where Nathaniel says his signature is, and see if the spot was altered on the photo posted to both accounts.”

The request seemed reasonable, if the nodding heads of the other classmates were anything to go by, if it weren’t all a lie.

Lila started crying her crocodile tears, lip wobbling at the pair closest to the door.

“Y-You don’t believe me?” She sniffed as Rose comforted her, and Juleka glared at them.

“Not at all!” Alya walked up, her hands waving in front of her.

“We’re not accusing anyone.” Nino clarified. 

“We’re just comparing the pictures, that’s all!” Alya hastened to add.

Lila didn’t look happy at all, but Rose was already pulling up the picture on Lila’s instagram. Marinette doing the same on her phone of Nathaniel’s instagram.

They both laid out their phones on a desk for everyone to compare. Max was looking at the two closely, as well as his own phone.

“Oh Marinette, that’s a screenshot.” Max pointed out. 

Lila smiled through her tears, sure that she could convince the class that she edited the photo for Nathaniel, because he accused her that one time too. 

“Oh, my bad” She said in a falsely sweet voice, something was up.

“Here. Oh!” She made it look like she was backing out of her photo gallery, when she just swiped over, and let the class see another piece of art work.

“Hey! That looks like one of Lila’s pictures!” Rose, oh so helpfully, pointed out. And it was, one of the ones she posted to her instagram anyway. 

“Oh but that’s from this artist. See? I screenshoted it when they posted it, two weeks ago. See?”

They looked closer, and sure enough the artist posted it two weeks before, They looked at the same picture on Lila’s instagram that she claimed she finished two days prior. With a suspicious bloch where the other artists signature was was on their post.

Max pulled back, pushed his glasses back up, and nodded.

“Yup. That picture is the original, you can see the watermark. And the convenient spot that covered the watermark from the original picture, right there on Lila’s instagram.” Rose and Juleka looked at her, confused. Ivan turned around, looking for answers as well. Before Lila could get a word in Marinette took that moment to completely pounce.

“Oh, but what about these pictures? Do they also have erased watermarks, because they look an awful like the other artists I follow that have had their work stolen from them too.”

Alya and Max descended on the photos like vultures on a carcass, picking apart every screenshot in Marinette’s phone, and every post Lila had made on her instagram with Rose’s phone.

Rose didn’t protest as the hovered over her phone, she looked at Lila with tears in her eyes.

“Is it true? Did-Did you s-steal them?” Juleka wrapped her arm around her shoulder, but gave a hesitant glance to Lila. Ivan looked lost, Mylene currently being out sick, he didn’t know who to side with.

Kim didn’t have to hold Alix back, she stood back on her won. Her arms crossed, and a smug look on her face, she knew Lila had been caught. She gave a smile to Marinette, who gave a thumbs up in return. Nathaniel looked relieved, he also gave Marinette a grateful smile that she returned.

Lila knew she was losing her hold. She looked to Adrien, but he was busy looking (out for akumas) around the room.

She had to play her ace in the hole.

She burst into tears, sobbing.

“I-I’m so sick of this lying disease!” 

The others looked at her confused.

Alix snorted.

“Yeah, you are lying, and you are a disease.” Kim elbowed her for that, but he didn’t say anything. 

Lila had to move fast.

“I w-was going to take them down. B-But I really do like the pictures. I h-had no idea they had b-been stolen b-by those artists-”

“That doesn’t explain the watermarks!” Alix cut across.

“I didn’t steal them! Someone else did! I-I got permission f-from whoever stole the art f-first. A-and-” She hastened to add when she saw that Alix and Marinette were about to interrupt her.

“A-and I couldn’t help but put that I drew them, because of my lying disease! R-Remember?” Marinette looked enraged, Alix and Nathaniel looked at her in disbelief. Max also looked skeptical. 

“L-lying disease?” Rose asked tentatively. Lila nodded.

“Yes! R-Remember? W-When I accidentally got Marinette expelled.” At the memory being brought up, Marinette’s face darkened further, Adrien looked uncomfortable, and Alix and Nathaniel shared a look of realization.

“I didn’t mean to get her expelled! It was my disease! It acts up during times of stress! And with all of the charities I help with, and my disabilities, I get too stressed out and start lying again!” She looked to Alya, who looked like she was almost convinced. Nino was looking to Alya. Rose, Juleka, and Ivam were firmly back on her side again.

She just needed to convince Alya, and the majority would follow, or join Marinette in exile.

“I-I’ve been getting so stressed out lately! And I can’t control the urge when it happens! I am so sorry you guys! I didn’t mean-”

“That still doesn’t explain why you accused Nathaniel of stealing your supposed artwork.” Marinette pointed out.

“Or the fact that you brought up something that you have no idea about and threw it in his face!” Alix added.

Lila schooled her face to guilt.

“I’m sorry that I offended you Nathaniel. I didn’t mean to.” She let a few tears come to the surface of her eyes, but never let them fall. 

It was all Juleka and Rose needed to flock to her and comfort her. She looked to Alya, who looked on the verge of joining her. She just needed a little more.

“I can understand what made you want to draw that picture you posted, it looks a lot like mine. You drew inspirations from that, I get that!” Nathaniel looked livid, and Alix was ready to blow.

But Lila only worried about the two that were in front of her that weren’t at her side yet. She needed them to keep her hold of the class.

“I can understand drawing inspiration from what’s around you, Marinette does that all the time no?” Said girl glared at her. Adrien had finally stopped his tour of the room with his eyes, and looked at the group. He glared at Lila, but she could deal with that later. As long as he kept his arm out in front of Marinette, and out of her way, she could deal with him later.

She just needed Alya and Nino.

“I don’t blame you for being inspired! Not at all! I just want an apology for accusing me of stealing.” At the start of the protests from Marinette, Alix and Nathaniel, she looked to Nino and Alya.

“Right Alya? Nino?”

Alya hesitantly nodded. Nino didn’t react one way or the other, Hmm...

“See? It;s alright! We just needed to communicate!” Rose cheerfully added.

At that convenient time, Madam Bustier entered the room.

“Alright class! We have a busy day ahead of us! Finish up your chat and get to your seats!”

Lila looked to Nathaniel, an expectant look on her face that made his stomach turn.

Was this how Marinette felt?

Rose, Juleka, and Ivan looked at him expectantly too.

 Madam Bustier looked back at the group, waiting. Kim slapped him on the back.

“Hey! It’s resolved now! Just apologize and it’s all good man!” 

Alix glared at him, but Nathaniel just sighed.

“I’m... Sorry Lila.”

She smiled her condescending smile once again, that Nathaniel was beginning to realize was the one she always gave to Marinette.

“I accept your apology.”

And everyone started to go back to their seats.

Nathaniel didn’t missed the way Marinette opened her mouth again, but stopped when Adrien touched her arm with his hand. He whispered something to her and shook his head. Alix noticed this too.

She looked angry, and gave him a look of disgust before she subtly tore her arm away from his. He looked sad, but retreated back to his seat anyway. Marinette looked back at Nathaniel and Alix, to see them already looking at her.

She gave them a sad smile and looked to her desk, to see Lila already seated there. She let out a quiet sigh, and made her way to the back of the classroom.

“Hey Marinette?” Nathaniel asked quietly. She looked between him and Alix, who was toeing the floor.

“Do you want to sit in the back with us?” She was about to ask why Alix would sit at the back when she saw her bookbag in her hand.

She smiled at them and nodded. They made their way to the back, not noticing Adrien’s frown of sadness or Lila’s frown of annoyance.

She didn’t like reminding them of her ‘lying disease’. It might give them a reason to not totally believe her,though it was a great skeleton key to get her out of any situation because of her lies.

She turned back around in her seat, plotting her next move for the two new people that joined her exiled list.

Oh well, looks like she’d be adjusting her plans to fit two more.

What she didn’t know, was that there was another person that was beginning to catch on to all of her little lies. He just had to catalog them all on his phone first, before bringing the evidence to light.

Tag List:

@bean2342 @chris-pixie @pirats-pizzacanninibles @multifacetedfangirl @might-as-well-happen @legallyspawned @firesong323 @kuroko26 @runestarchild @mariae2900 @laadychat

[dragonageconfessions]

Please Read

I have received multiple strongly-worded (I’m being generous here) Anon messages, chastising this blog both for turning off Anon or submissions altogether for weekends, and for the perception that this blog favors anti-Adoribull content over pro-Adoribull confessions.

I take off over the weekend because I am a real person. I have a life and a family and I want to spend time with them without worrying about a mounting backlog, which is my right as a human being. If you are worried that you might forget your confession on a Saturday, I recommend that you save it in a draft so that you can copy-paste it to send in when the blog reopens.

I also sometimes turn off either Anon or submissions altogether when there is a particular spike in Fandom Drama(TM) that causes wave after wave of rule-breaking or just plain nasty confessions. We don’t demand that everything be super-positive (there are other blogs for that), but this blog is not a target range for people to take easy shots at other bloggers.

This blog is not pro-Adoribull or anti-Adoribull. The pairing is canon in many, even most, playthroughs in Inquisition, but not in others. Some of the party banter related to that romance is upsetting, off-putting, or even triggering to some, but not to others. There is party banter and dialogue that can make anyone feel that way -- triggers, in particular, do not always make intuitive sense to the rest of us because we do not share someone else’s traumatic associations. Allergies don’t have to “make sense” either for us to recognize that, say, some people really want to avoid peanuts, and that’s okay.

Finding a “perfect” balance may be impossible, but it would be much easier if a few people on the outlying extremes would be more respectful of each other and of this blog. Finally, and I regret that I even need to post this reminder, but please do not submit explicit images to this blog. Whether this was done to be deliberately unkind to me as I process submissions or not, it is against Tumblr rules, against this blog’s rules, and also just deeply rude. Come on.

Here are some of the notes I have received

And I am posting a heavily edited version of one of the two images I have received under a cut. They were submitted under dummy e-mail which I have blocked.And for what its worth, my bro who has purchased art commissions in the past said the second one could kill someone and he thinks these renders from video games are stupid.

As for why I am including this?  I am including these receipts because I know there will always be a few people who would not believe it.  

Anyway, thank you if you made it this far and one last thing, there is actually  one adoribull confession in the queue. It was accepted because IT DID NOT CONTAIN STATEMENTS that belittled/maligned abuse survivors.

Thanks again for reading. Everything will be turned on Sunday.

-SMC

[johns-prince]

Hey love! I hope you’ve been doing well! I have some thoughts about some stuff I’ve noticed recently, so I hope you don’t mind listening to a bit of a ramble.

Basically, I was listening to Here Today and being emotional, as you do, and I thought to myself “Y’know, why don’t we give John’s old demos a go as well. Wouldn’t hurt to cry a bit more while listening to Now And Then.” However, as soon as I went to their links that I had saved so I could access them easily, Youtube gave me a notice saying they were taken down due to a copyright claim from Yoko. Now, I know copyright is obviously a thing that will happen since she’s basically in control of the Lennon empire, but I found it a bit odd that they were specific recordings, at least from what I noticed.

The Now And Then recording that I was familiar with was removed, and the only ones that I can see that are still up and older than about a month (which are the age of ones I think people have reuploaded after the others were taken down) are either clips from documentaries or edited versions that people pass as “Beatles versions” of the song. The other that I noticed being recently removed was the third demo of Real Life. Both have extreme hints towards Paul in them, Now And Then basically being wholeheartedly about Paul and that Real Life demo in particular having certain lines that seem to point to Paul (at least in my opinion).

I may be reading WAY too far into all of it and if I’m completely wrong then that’s fine by me (at least that would mean the only reason would be copyright), but after the whole thing about her replacing Paul’s introduction to John’s book with her own recently AND knowing the lengths she has gone in order to keep her and John’s “love” alive in the eyes of the public, I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t at least a bit more going on beyond the basic copyright claims in terms of some of these recordings. You’d think with a company that large, they’d have taken those videos down due to copyright pretty soon after they were posted, but they let them stay up for a fairly long while and were only taken down because Yoko herself decided to do so. I don’t really know honestly, just speaking my mind I guess.

I don’t mind rambling, all I ever do is ramble. Thank you for enjoying my rambling lol

Because I’mma ‘bout to ramble here myself—

So, let’s address some things that have been going on with the John Lennon Estate as of late, and the... Eight other companies that were linked to Yoko Ono (and apparently shared with The Beatles) because I think it’s important in maybe getting to the bottom of why the Hell this is happening now, and why so many demos, and even certain videos like the one with John filming and saying, “Paul, my dear one,” was even hit with copyright and taken down.

The companies that are in charge of John’s music rights are: 

Lensolo, Lincoln publishing, and Apple Corps. I think Apple Corps. is the only one shared between Yoko Ono and The Beatles?  

I’m not sure when she exactly did this, but from these two articles published in November, 2020 [x] [x] it must have been last year Yoko Ono apparently handed over business interests (The John Lennon Estate) over to Sean Lennon. 

So, Yoko has been managing the Estate, and the other companies, since John’s unfortunate death in 1980. Last year is when she apparently handed over management control to Sean:

“The musician has also joined the board at Lensolo which manages the music rights of some of his father’s solo output, The Mirror reported.  

Here comes the son: Sean Lennon, 45, has been appointed a director at eight companies linked to the family and the Beatles, including Apple Corp.” [x]

“Now Sean, 45, has been appointed a director at eight companies linked to the family and The Beatles according to The Mirror, including the multimedia Apple Corps.

Apple Corps had reported assets of $36million last year, and Sean is also believed to be taking over at Lensolo, managing John's solo material, Maclen, which publishes John's work in the US, and Subafilms, a music film company.” [x]

You then have Stans like this claiming Yoko isn’t in charge of The Lennon Estate, so we should just stop being spiteful and blaming her for what’s going on with these copyright strikes and removal of these videos/recordings— which by first glance at any of these articles you might be inclined to be like, “Huh I guess you’re right,”

But...

“A spokesman sad: ‘Yoko continues to oversee John’s estate but has drafted in Sean as a director to assist where necessary.’” [x] [x] [x]

So... She still oversees The John Lennon Estate, even though she supposedly is retiring... Simply making Sean the director to assist when necessary. Basically, “UK paper The Mirror now reports Ono has handed most of her duties over to son Sean Ono Lennon.” and “ While Ono has not commented on his new roles he has been actively following the passing of what would have been his father’s 80th birthday on October 9.” 

She’s incorporating Sean into business matters, but it appears she is still overseeing everything and still in charge. 

Then you have this;

“Despite it being 40 years after the death of John Lennon, the singer's estate is still raking it in, much to the delight of Yoko Ono.

Last year, he was named the seventh top earning dead celebrity by Forbes, with an annual income of $14million.

The 50th anniversary of iconic album Abbey Road boosted sales and streams of The Beatles catalog, proving a healthy stream of income to the estate.

The Lennon estate also owns memorabilia. his art and a number of properties.

The income might be more if not for the legal wrangling over the ownership of The Beatles catalog, which was once owned by Michael Jackson and then by Sony.

Yoko has kept a steady hand on John's finances, amassing a reported $700million fortune off the back of his estate.

As a key shareholder in Apple Corps, she profited from his music sales and other ventures which featured The Beatles, such as Rock Band.

She also owns multimillion-dollar properties in Manhattan and hundreds of acres in Delaware County.

But in recent years, she has sold off a number of them, selling a West Village penthouse for $12million in 2013, and an Upper West Side building for $10million in 2017.

According to Companies House in the UK, Yoko was registered as a director in a number of companies including Apple Corps, Maclen, which publishes Lennon's songs in the US, Lensolo for his solo work, and Subafilms.

Yoko has also made money off her own artwork, which has sold for up to $50,000.” [x]

Make of all that what you will. 

What do we know? We know that Sean is now somewhat working behind the scenes of the John Lennon Estate, so this could be his doing since these copyright strikes and removal of demos and certain videos had just started happening this year— but as we’ve learned, we don’t even know the full extent of control/management Sean actually has, and if he even has the position to be calling the shots and making important, noticeable decisions. 

It appears, by the research I’ve put in and what I could find about this, that it would be Yoko who’s still in charge. Meaning, she’d be the main one behind greenlighting these copyright strikes/claims and getting the demos and certain videos removed/taken down.

I think you’re right in your thoughts, and being suspicious of the reasoning behind these copyright strikes and removals, especially when we start looking at which one’s are being hit. Why now has the Estate started copyright claiming all these demos and getting them removed? Even versions of this bloody video had been struck down as copyright, and removed— which I think is extremely suspicious, and just... unnecessary? Petty? Stupid??

We can’t say with 100% certainty of why The Lennon Estate is doing this now, why Yoko (and now Sean, to an unknown extent) has decided to start copyright claiming and striking down certain demos, and even videos/clips that involve John (we just love how easy it is to claim copyright on Youtube)— but it’s suspicious, and doesn’t help improve one’s perspective and impression of the John Lennon Estate, Yoko Ono, or Sean Lennon.