#wrote this in a hurry

[aphrogeneias]

My boobs are sore and just got thinking about asking bestfriend! Eddie to massage them to make reader feel better :(

🦊

eddie's own downfall is being caring and observant and wanting to be of use

because when you're both in his bed, talking about everything and anything that comes to mind, in the low light of his room, and he notices you're uncomfortable, never settling in one position, he needs to ask, for his own sanity. "are you okay? are you... in pain, or something?"

and you're stuttering something about being sore, a little flustered and thankful for the quiet dark that's settled over you. "it's nothing, don't worry about me."

the conversation flows until you try to lay on your side again, and whince, with a small whine escaping your lips. he notices. "c'mon. what hurts? are you in pain?"

his eyes are big with worry, glinting under his furrowed brows even in this light. it makes you spill it, but nothing rolling your eyes first, "ugh, it's my boobs, okay? my stupid boobs are sore because of my stupid pms. happy?"

"oh."

that's all he says for a moment, while you're beyond embarrassed behind him. you shift and whince again, and suddenly he's reaching across the bed, one big, warm hand casually lying on your stomach

"is there anything... something, anything i can do to help?"

unconsciously, your hand meets his and holds it there, grabbing his fingers. "i don't think so. i usually just... massage them a little, but it kind of hurts."

"hurts good or hurts bad?"

"um," your cheeks are aflame, but you don't let it show, "good, sometimes."

then, like it's moving in slow motion, his hand breaks from your hold, and rises up torso, avoiding your rapidly beating heart, and settling on top of your right breast. you hiss a little bit, but when his warm hand settles there, lightly grabbing it, it's a small moan that accidentally fills the silent room.

"like this?"

his eyes are set on your face, searching your features for a reason to stop. he keeps moving his hand, grabbing and pulling over the fabric of your blouse, and your bra underneath, but you can feel it all. his warmth, his rough skin, the small calluses on his fingers. your thighs shift, the heat between your legs growing with the sensation, the delicious pain that comes from your best friend's ministrations.

without thinking too much, you grab his other hand, and move it to your other breast, while he moves closer.

"yeah. just like that."

[rottentiger-art]

some of my favorite lawmane fanfic tropes in here: Light being unable to cope with L paying more attention to Misa than him, Misa being cute and accidently flashing him making L's mind go blank and L accepting doing whatever Misa wants to do, no matter how silly, and dragging Light with them.

Plus the cartoonish silliness chibis bring hahah, I missed drawing them <3

[uraharasandals]

uhhh so I was giggling about aventurine with a friend and it kinda spiralled out of control so have this teehee

I tried to make them hate fuck the whole time but I got stuck so this ended up being slightly...healthy? (I know, shocking for me) But I'm excited for Ratio to drop and honestly Aventurine too

Main source of inspiration: Aventurine looks like a power bottom

pairing :: dr. ratio x aventurine word count :: 1.4k warnings :: r18/nsfw content (minors don't interact pls), hate-fucking, unprotected sex, mild ooc ratio, written before 1.6 update

CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE? (NO, BUT YOU DID)

“Not so proud of ourselves now, are we?” There it is again, that absolute shit-eating grin that Ratio itches to slap off his face, that remains plastered all over his fine features despite being pinned down like a butterfly to a board, and dissected as much under his hands. And yet. “Come on, don't be shy, say something. Veritas.”

A delicious shiver runs down his spine as Aventurine speaks again, and Ratio swallows. It's the way his name rolls off the blonde's tongue, almost like honey - except it's dangerous, obviously a trap. Velvet-laced knives, mayhaps. 

Beauty with a jagged edge, like the stone he takes the name of for his pseudonym.

Ratio swallows again, then hisses as Aventurine tightens around his cock, shoved deep into him. “Don't do that.” He tries to sound authoritative, but it comes off weak, trembling. Aventurine takes it as a cue to clench again, making him let out a small gasp in spite of himself. 

“Do what?” The blonde tilts his head at him, almost innocently, as if he wasn't underneath him and flushed with arousal. “You need to be clear, Veritas.”

There it is. That wretched enunciation of his name, dragging through his lips. And was he hallucinating, or did that bastard moan it? 

Saliva runs dry in his mouth, leaving him nothing to swallow the third time.

Aventurine notices his silence, and chuckles. He slides his fingers into the dark purple locks curling against the base of his skull and pulls, slotting their mouths together. Ratio lets him have the kiss, their lips moulding together naturally and more like two men in love and less at each other’s throats (though one could argue that is attractive in its own right), and when Aventurine pulls away, there's almost a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, clarity in the hazy lavender. “I can ride you, if you’d like.” 

And there it is, his way of checking in – despite the nature of the offer, there was no saccharine seductiveness in the statement, only a matter-of-fact tone laying an invitation on the table. In a way, it’s strangely reassuring, how he doesn’t treat him as something fragile or like glass, how he maintains the snake-like hold on him even though they’re on bed, skin against skin, laid bare open. It makes the real Aventurine less attainable, which is good. That means he is still allowed the leisure of concealing his true emotions behind a mask, because despite the vulnerability, that is one thing he refuses to do, the one agreement he made to himself. 

It keeps things casual, distanced. With an air of fantasy surrounding it, almost as if he was playing make-believe. 

“Tempting.” Ratio regains his footing on the edge, smirking down at him. “But I think I’d like to try something else today.” He rolls his hips forwards experimentally, and relishes on the widening of Aventurine’s eyes as he gasps, a delicious shiver running through his entire body. “Especially since a certain someone decided to be so generous today.” 

Aventurine shrugs, nonchalance laced in the action, but his flushed features – likely from arousal – makes it hard to believe, especially with the sultry glance still evident behind the long golden lashes. “Suit yourself. Don’t cry about it afterwards, though.”

Ratio scoffs, hooking a hand around his pale thigh, before arranging his leg so it props on his shoulder, stretching him open further. “Don’t worry. The only person who’s going to cry tonight is you.”

“Oh, going to scold me like one of your students, are you, Doctor?”

Before Aventurine can get another word in, he responds by leaning in, pressing his lips against the other man’s mouth so he could shut up, for Aeon’s sake. The yapping coming out of him quickly turns into a series of delightful moans, the blonde gasping and whimpering as Veritas fucks him, slamming his hips against the other’s and hitting that spot inside of Aventurine that makes him make those pretty noises again, over and over until his cock leaks precum. He smirks in appreciation as the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room, more slick forming between them as his cock leaks more precum, almost as if he wants to fill Aventurine up.

“Why, does that turn you on?” He asks, almost in disbelief, as he continues to pound into Aventurine’s hole, but the other man was already gone in the throes of his own pleasure, and Ratio finds himself mesmerised by the display in front of him as he pants, blonde hair sprawled across the pillow like a halo. He looks like an angel this way – he thinks to himself – except that is true only in the literal sense of the word, but the deception is easier to fall for when he's like this, spread open on sheets and without his flamboyance, just himself. And right now, this view is only for Ratio's eyes, which only makes him more aroused. “Talk to me, Aventurine,” Ratio taunts, relishing in how easily the man underneath him is being taken apart. “Do you like this?” 

The blonde nods, gasping as he hits his prostate again. “Feels good…more, please. More, Veritas – “

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely – “ With a small grunt, he slams back in again, stretching his hole further. Aventurine turns his neck as he moans, trying to squirm away from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, but a firm grip on his wrist against the headboard stops him from escaping, and he whines. Ratio could feel his cock throbbing harder, and impulsively — against his own logical instincts, frankly – he surges forward, biting roughly on the pristinely pale expanse of skin on Aventurine’s neck. 

The blonde moans loudly again as his teeth grazes on the skin, catching and surely leaving marks. For a moment Ratio loses control of himself, overcome with the thought of making Aventurine his own, and nothing but his own, attacking his neck with renewed fervour. The blonde squeezes his eyes shut, and with a sense of satisfaction, Ratio notices moisture gathering on his eyelids, and he decides to lean up to kiss them away. Aventurine hisses at the contact, but does not push him away, merely guiding his hand to his own cock, and Ratio complies. He silently relishes in the pretty noises that Aventurine makes in response to the additional stimulation. “I - I’m close, Veritas, I’m close - ”

“Good.” Ratio gasps. “Cum for me.” He watches as the blonde shudders, mewling as he comes undone, white spurting all over his fingers as the scholar continues to stroke, his hole fluttering around his cock, milking him. A hoarse groan escapes his lips as Ratio’s hips stutter, fucking him through his orgasm. He is briefly aware of how slender and small Aventurine is underneath him, shaking from the aftershocks and whimpering from the overstimulation as he continues to thrust into the heat. “Hold on – ”

Ratio ignores the desperate sounds coming out of Aventurine as he chases his own high, slamming his cock into his hole again and again until he groans, the pleasure causing stars to dance in the back of his eyelids as he buries his face into Aventurine’s neck, moaning against the sweat-drenched skin. He’s briefly aware of his cum spilling out around his cock, soiling the sheets underneath, and the thought fuck, we have to change them dances across his mind before Aventurine’s scent demands his focus again, and then it’s Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine all over again.

For a moment, the room is silent as they slowly come down from their highs, though broken as Aventurine pulls him down for another kiss, this time sloppy and wet. Ratio returns it hungrily, letting the blonde nip and lick at his lips greedily, almost to devour him. “You taste good,” Aventurine manages to say, finally catching his breath.

Ratio scoffs, but it’s all in good nature. “First time?” 

Immediately, the blissed expression on the blonde’s face drops, and he almost laughs. Aventurine is like a cat at times, Ratio thinks to himself, the way he pulls away and gets affectionate completely at random intervals, and right now it’s one of those times as he bites on the inside of his wrist as some sort of comeback, successfully making him wince out of surprise. Aventurine grins, looking like a cat who just finished a bowlful of cream.

“Cat got your tongue?” Ratio prompts, enjoying teasing Aventurine when he’s fucked out like this, the only time his flowery language doesn’t make an appearance.

“No, but you did,” is the only warning as the blonde pulls him down for another kiss again, this time slightly more gentle as he grins against his lips.

[notafangorl]

It is quite

Funny that one wayward heartbeat can make one stay

Funny that a frown or an indifference can shake one’s core

Funny that a smile can brighten up the pits of hell

Funny that a single kiss imprints the heart

Funny that a single kiss can linger in the waking and the dreaming

Funny that a single kiss can make one stay

Funny that the word friends suddenly sound so loathsome

Funny that the word more can wake something up

Funny that a tug in the hair, searing touches, deep staring can make one stay

Home was in Bloomsbury. Home was with Penelope.

[starlitangels]

okokok

so i know in some stream (i think) somewhere that erik said he'd never write novels for his characters because then he'd have to make the listener an actual character and he didn't want to do that because it would take away the audience's ability to interpret the listener characters however they want

which is totally fine and i 100% respect that, genuinely

but i still want novels set in the redactedverse

but not like that ^

i don't want the listener characters to show up at all

i want a prequel novel of lasko's backstory, from his childhood to his powers manifesting and the fallout of that, culminating in his fight with his mom that led him to run away

i want a prequel novel of gabe and his mate's love story although admittedly i kinda already did that myself ssshhh i want the full thing made by erik maybe with every couple chapters switching to marie and colm's story from marie's pov and @frenchiefitzhere can be the narrator of those chapters for the audiobook

i want seer obscura morgan middlename kyne's entire life story. gimme!

i want avior and circinus and eridanus and the other demons avior stewarded—i want that novel to end with avior's rift destabilizing on NYE and just the tiniest dialogue hint of starlight

i. want. a. cacophony/cataclysm. novel. from vega and brachium's pov

two words: imperium. novel. (maybe the shaw pack after david and darlin' died?)(maybe a story about everything vega's been through)

gimme elliott and aaron's childhood

gimme william solaire's turning—gimme porter's journey to the solaire clan, even. or alexis'

give me random characters we've never seen before who are novel-exclusive protagonists!

i want some rando energetic from borden's perspective of their life leading up to the inversion and their fight to survive it with their friends or even strangers

i want an older vampire from the solaire clan's history that isn't someone we've seen before

i would inhale a book of short stories that are empowered fairy tales—the e'laetum and min'ara one as well as human stories that empowered parents tell their kids

ooh! ooh! ooh! heist book with a team of empowereds omg omg omg y'all read Mistborn? like that

i want a murder mystery novel detailing some random d.u.m.p. investigator's newest case

i want a political intrigue thriller about vampire houses/clans and old blood monarchs that's, like, a bigger scale than the monarchal summit arc and is about a clan from somewhere else entirely

i want something vaguely "the balance" storyline-esque just in that the whole thing takes place in a dreamscape controlled by an extremely powerful Dreamwalker and the point of the novel is trying to escape it

erik i know you don't want novels with the listener characters in them but novels would still be so cool and i still want them and there is so much potential for this whole world you've built to tell stories in please omg

Redactedverse Novels. Thank you for listening reading.

[alevolpe]

One thing that irks me across most iterations is how much Usagi’s supposed stupidity is played up - she strikes me more as just being an immature, underachieving slacker than actually being dumb. What's your take?

I understand where you're coming from. A lot of the time, it's played out for comedy sake, but I've never been a fan of that type of humor too much.

I feel like the best type of humor when it comes to Usagi revolves more around Usagi's crazy and absurd reactions rather than just characters pointing at her cause she fell on her face. For example, compare any gag of her getting a terrible grade to that really good comedy bit in episode 8 where the monster is quizzing her about Newton and gravity. To the question, "Why do apples fall from trees?" instead of Usagi giving a 'stupid' answer and that being the only joke, she instead talks back at the monster and says the most Usagi thing possible "don't ask me, ask an apple".

Which is not stupid perse, the funny part doesn't come from the fact that it's a stupid thing to say, but it's cause it's an absurd and illogical thing to respond and I feel like that describes Usagi's supposed 'stupidity' pretty well.

I think Usagi isn't so much an idiot as she is oblivious, immature and lazy, like you said. I don't believe she's as stupid as people think. If anything, she's actually quite people smart.

Most likely a lot of the perception of Usagi's supposed stupidity comes from situations where Usagi is put outside of her element and she eventually makes a fool of herself and the other characters call her an idiot.

Tho, it isn't so much stupidity as it is Usagi not being apt to more formal settings, which I'd gathegorize more as her being inept and dorky, while not reacting like other characters would, but instead being way too open for her own good and most a lot of times at the surprise and even discomfort of others.

If Usagi puts her mind to it, she could get better at studying and various other subjects, but she just chooses not to cause she's lazy.

[inthedreamatorium1]

God I have so many thoughts about this one. It's going to consume me for the next 2-3 business days.

First of all, Colin is looking FINE. The tousled hair, the open shirt, the relaxed way he's wearing the dress coat. The man is RELAXED. Every time we saw him at home or when he was with his family (the exception being Violet told him Penelope was about to get engaged), he was very buttoned up and dressed properly. He was so tense and wearing his armor. Now, with Penelope, he has shed the armor and he's physically and mentally relaxed. The man has zero worries right now (rip).

Then we have the crinkled up paper? HE IS WRITING!!! Did Penelope motivate him to revisit his journals? Was he inspired to go through them and start editing them because he has the support and love of Pen? He's finally inspired and motivated and can finally be the nerdy loser self he always was. <3

Now, Eloise. I wouldn't be surprised if this is from episode 5, maybe the day after they announced their engagement. I've seen some people speculate she might be trying to tell him Pen is LW. I don't think she's there yet as she's given Pen an ultimatum and I believe El would honor that. What I'm guessing is that she's trying to sus out whether or not Pen hoodwinked him into proposing. Or trying to see how he really feels about Pen. I love Eloise but she's not the most observant person. Her best friend for years was in love with her brother and she had zero inkling. So, to her, the engagement probably seems completely out of left field. Colin never once showed a romantic interest in Pen before (in her eyes. and this goes back to the idea that no one ever considered Penelope a viable love interest for Colin. Like HELLO? How anyone could write off his yearning is beyond me. The ton are a bunch of idiots), so clearly Pen may have done something to force his hand. I'm hoping this is where he tells Eloise that he wants to marry Penelope and that he came to this decision all on his own and to please respect my wife, thank you very much.

(bless you, Eloise, but that man was literally on his knees in front of Pen begging her to love him)

Colin and Eloise are such an interesting pair and I'm looking forward to seeing how their dynamic evolves in part 2. In the book, these two were always super close so it's fun to see that translate into the show. Eloise cares about Colin and I have a feeling she's going to do something that forces Colin to firmly tell her to back off. Luke and Claudia have such natural chemistry and play off each other so well, it's going to be fun watching them.

Basically, I'm excited for any scene where Colin tells anyone and everyone how amazing Penelope is and how he is stupidly in love with her.

[charlescoded]

Begging you for vampy max and omega charles being all gaga over their chubby blonde blue eyed dimpled baby 🙈🙇‍♀️

vampy max would worship the ground charles walks on if so asked. he doesn't because charles is just as enamoured, but he will ask for more chubby babies <3

-

Sharp fangs graze against his skin as Max leaves sloppy kisses along the expense of his neck. Charles closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the sensation for a moment. Max’s arm has creeped around his waist, keeping him in place. It’s a familiar position that Charles has come to love, but right now they don’t have time for this.

“Cheri,” He murmurs pointedly, and behind him Max groans loudly.

Max rests his forehead against his shoulder. “Just five minutes?” He whines.

He huffs. “Five minutes turns into ten, ten turns into sex, and sex turns into never leaving at all.”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Charles can feel his smile press against his neck.

“And if she starts to cry and it ruins the mood—your mood?”

Max hesitates for a split second. “I can deal with that.”

Charles rolls his eyes and turns around in his hold. “No you can’t, you’ll be so distracted wanting to check on her and leave me needing you." He presses his lips against Max’s chin.

He cups Max’s jaw and kisses the pout away. “…It only happened once.”

“Twice,” Charles corrects. “I’m counting Jimmy getting stuck in the chandelier.”

Max makes a face. “You can’t blame that on me, what bat doesn’t know how to fly.”

It’s a rhetorical question, Charles answers it anyway. “You.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.”

“I know,” Charles grins, and when Max’s face tightens, his eyes light up. “Is she crying?”

Max presses his lips into a thin line. “…She might be.”

Charles shuffles out of his arms and gives him a coy look. “Well? Bring me my baby, Maxy.”

There’s a loud sigh, but Max pecks his cheek and disappears to leave Charles alone in their bed. He sits up and stretches his arms above him, a pleasant ache still pulsing through his body. He waits patiently—Max has the speed to return within seconds, but if he calms her down first, it might take a few minutes—, brushing his fingers against the bite marks left all over his body.

A big smile forms on his face when Max returns, their daughter curled up against his chest. He holds his arms out and Max hands her over as joins him back in bed. “Hey pretty baby,” Charles whispers, shifting so he can settle down against Max’s chest.

“Lisette calmed down as soon as I entered her room.” He can hear the silent typical being added, but Max doesn’t sound too upset about it.

Charles brushes her hair out of her face. “Did you just want attention from daddy, Lili?” Her little hand clasps around his finger. “Yeah? I like his attention as well.”

Max snorts softly. “Needy omega.” He teases.

“Hey,” He lightly knocks his head against Max’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude to your ‘needy omega’, he worked very hard to give you a carbon copy of yourself.”

“The first part wasn’t so hard,” He lets out a soft yelp when Charles pinches him. “…Besides, I think she’ll look like you when she grows up.”

He looks at the chubby cheeks of his daughter, at her golden hair, the startling blue eyes, even the sharper teeth poking out when she opens her mouth to babble and shakes his head. “No, she’s definitely daddy’s girl. Maybe our second will look more like me.”

“Second?” Max asks quietly, and Charles holds his breath. “You want me fill you up with another baby, Charlie?”

His cheeks flush bright red. “I..,” He clears his throat. “Only if you want to.”

Max kisses the back of his neck. “Of course I want to,” His hands rub over Charles’ sides. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Hm. And what if I want breakfast in bed right now?”

“Yeah?” Max’s hands slide down to Charles’ thighs. His voice is slightly muffled where he presses his teeth against an old bite mark, “You’re my breakfast, baby.”

Charles inhales sharply. “Oh my god, cheri,” The hands disappear from his skin. “You don’t have to put a baby in me the first chance you get!”

Max’s laughter echoes through the house as he disappears in the blink of an eye. Charles shakes his head and tries to hide his smile as he looks down at Lisette, his daughter busy playing with the faintly glowing jewels attached to his bracelet. He leans down and kisses her forehead. Maybe they’ll have another baby, but for now, this is enough.

[silence-of-autumn42]

Been thinking about how the elements work in Dragonfable, and what technically...counts as one. Be warned, this is long and rambly.

The eight basic elements, the ones represented by an Avatar, make perfect sense. They exist in nature, they make up the planet of Lore. Disease, Poison, Metal and Silver are what I'm calling "special" elements, in that they're natural things, but not naturally magical - their power comes from human, or humanoid perspectives. Good and Evil, based on what I've seen from the Engineer and the Exaltia Tower, are the elements used by the Celestials and Infernals, and seem to be combinations of the eight basic elements, just polarised. Void is the absence of elements, present in and from the Void. Fear, however, is the really interesting one. Fear is the element most commonly associated with Mana damage, and seems to represent the relationship between the mind and the ability to channel mana. However, we also know Mana is an actual substance, and both Mama Elementals and the Avatar of Order do Fear damage. This, to me, suggests that Fear is the closest thing we have to raw mana damage, which has some interesting implications when we look at it from the angle of Mana being vital to life. It's pure magical force, which connects us to reality. And it manifests as fear when we interact with it. Interacting with the natural source of energy in the world causes us to be afraid. Is it because we can subconsciously feel the animosity that Aequilibria has for life? Or is it just that the power of mana is so overwhelming that we can't comprehend it, as some eldritch force?

[justlyubov]

Original Niffty and my version for comparison. See my redesigns masterpost for more info and other designs.

If Niffty is supposed to be bug inspired, I don't know why she doesn't have a bug antenna, it makes the inspiration very obvious. Polka dots help Niffty to play on a word "ladybug", being a literal lady-bug, but she is actually a cockroach.

I leaned into a 50's housewife with the dress. It also looks like a maid uniform.

Since the "atomic age" and "nuclear family" I think that mutant/radiation could relate to her one eye, since with just a bug insp. she doesn't have to be a cyclop. She's a cockroach that survived a nuclear blast. And I made the eye that toxic waste green color. I don't think that it has to do anything with her mortal life necessarily, it just represent her bizzare nature. Also I saw a Niffty redesign (link) that has a UFO inspiration for the same purpose. So yeah, a mutant/alien vibe for the weird girly.

I'm thinking to make her limbs a dark brown or smth, so it's easier to see when they overlap.

[wonder-worker]

why did the wydevilles and richard III hate each other that much during edward iv's reign?

Hi! To get straight to the point – there is no evidence of hostility between the Woodvilles and Richard of Gloucester before 1483. On the contrary, their relationship during Edward IV’s reign seems to have been cordial and mutually cooperative. Elizabeth made Richard steward of some of her estates in 1469, increased his fee in 1473, and seems to have backed him against Clarence over the Warwick inheritance. Both of them clearly benefitted by Clarence’s downfall. Richard supported her sites of patronage, like Queen’s College, and he included her among those to ask prayers for when founding two new colleges at his northern homes, Bernard Castle and Middleham, in 1478 (we shouldn't see this as a mere formality, as his own mother was not included in the list). He also seems to have been on amicable terms with Elizabeth’s family: in 1481 her eldest son and her brother Anthony served under his command in Scotland; he raised Edward Woodville to a banneret; and in late March 1483 (just a few weeks before Edward IV’s death), Anthony had trusted Richard enough to nominate him as an arbiter in one of his disputes. Richard was also close to Katherine Haute, wife of Elizabeth’s cousin James, giving her a generous annuity from his estates. Historians have theorized she was his mistress as she shared the same name as his illegitimate daughter Katherine, but whatever the specifics of their dynamic, it does indicate closeness.  Also, as Rosemary Horrox points out in Richard III: A Study of Service, “the local interests of the duke and the Woodvilles coincided at several points, notably in Wales and East Anglia but also (briefly) in Richmondshire, where the queen’s mother, the dowager duchess of Bedford, held one third of the honour until 1472. Had the two interests been hostile, one would expect some evidence of local friction, but there is none”. Rather, Elizabeth and Richard engaged in independent land transactions with each other – for example, she bought the highly lucrative FitzLewis manors from him.

So while we don't know what they personally felt about each other, we do know that 1) there is no evidence at all of hostility on either side, and 2) the evidence we do have is one of mutual cooperation.

This is important to keep in mind when talking about the events in 1483. Most modern historians (Charles Ross, AJ Pollard, etc) have blamed Edward IV for his son’s deposition by claiming that he failed to reconcile the Woodvilles and Richard during his life, paving the way for tensions to erupt between their so-called factions after his death. Twisted leap of logic aside, this is ridiculously unfair: Edward cannot be blamed for “failing” to remedy tensions which literally did not exist during his life. He was not a prophet; he could not control events from the grave. There is no need to blame him for Richard’s shocking betrayal that we already know contemporaries were not able to foresee. During his life, Edward would have had every reason to believe that his wife and his brother would work together during his son’s minority. And he had good reason to believe this: while conflict between the Woodvilles and Richard did erupt in 1483, it was not inevitable and should not be viewed as such. Rather, in the aftermath of Edward’s death, Elizabeth Woodville seems to have expected to work with Richard. She took the king’s place in listening to his council, and Croyland reports that Richard was sending her deferring letters “[promising] to come and offer submission, fealty, and all that was due from him to his lord and king, Edward V, the first-born son of his brother the dead king and the queen”. Croyland also writes that the new king, Edward V, sent Anthony Woodville and Richard Gray, to “submit the conduct of everything to the will and discretion of his uncle the Duke of Gloucester”. We know that Edward V was planning on having an immediate coronation thanks to a letter he wrote to the burgesses of King’s Lynn, and according to Mancini, who quotes the young king, “as for the government of the kingdom, he had complete confidence in the peers of the realm and the queen [Elizabeth].” Considering what Croyland wrote above, the “peers of the realm” would have surely included his uncle Richard. Indeed, Anthony and Richard Gray trusted Richard enough to walk blindly into a trap; it’s difficult to understand how this was possible or why they weren’t better prepared if they truly disliked Richard (or, for that matter, if they had tried to exclude him from power). It’s possible - imo, very likely - that the Woodvilles would have been the most influential and dominant after Edward V’s coronation; that does seem to have been the view of contemporaries. But since the coronation never took place, and since Elizabeth and her family clearly wanted and expected to work with the council and peers of the realm – including (arguably especially) Richard – it’s not possible to read them as anything other than cooperative.  At the very least, based on what we know right now.

I don’t want this post to get too speculatory, because it’s not like we have video recordings of 1483 to know exactly what went down, but my basic point is that going by the information we have, it was entirely plausible for Richard and “the Queen’s kin” (which is what "the Woodvilles" were actually known as to contemporaries, both administratively and in chronicles) to work together. They had done so during Edward IV’s life, and the impression I get is that Eizabeth at least seems to have expected it to continue after his death. Presumably, Anthony and Richard Gray did as well.

I think there are two reasons most chroniclers and historians are so willing to believe the Woodvilles and Richard were "rivals":

One is hindsight: their explosive conflict in 1483 is retrospectively read backwards and applied to Edward IV’s reign as a whole despite the abundance of evidence (see: Anthony trusting Richard to arbitrate a dispute mere weeks earlier) that proves otherwise.

Historically speaking, however, the idea of a rivalry primarily stems from Ricardian propaganda that sought to vilify Elizabeth Woodville, reviving and doubling down on Warwick's earlier propaganda against her. She was framed as a disruptive queen and transgressive woman with an “ignoble” social-climbing family who dominated the government and "controlled" the king. His propaganda at that time also aimed to cast "the Woodvilles as the aggressors and [Richard] as the victim of circumstance", as Horrox has pointed out. Hence why you have Mancini claiming that Richard and Elizabeth hated each other and that her "jealousy" kept him out of court, or why Thomas More claimed that “the Queene and the Lordes of her bloode whiche highlye maligned the kynges kinred (as women commonly not of malice but of nature hate them whom their husbands love)’. This, as we should know by now, is nonsense. The conflict between Richard and the Woodvilles (most probably) originated in 1483 because of the existence of an unexpected minority and because of his actions against them, not by non-existent simmering tensions during Edward IV's reign.

Hope this helps!

*Thomas Gray Marquis of Dorset's alleged boast that "we are so important that even without the king's uncle we can make and enforce these decisions", as quoted by Mancini, is often taken as proof that the Woodvilles wanted ultimate dominance during Edward V's minority. However, there are ... a great many problems with this interpretation. One, we don't know if Dorset actually said something like this: after all, Croyland never claims any such thing in his own chronicle. Additionally, while it was (and is) popularly assumed that Elizabeth and Dorset wished to exclude Richard because they started the council without him, this makes no sense in context: Anthony Woodville, Richard Gray and the young King himself were also not present at that time. Does it make any sense at all to assume that the council was insulting these three figures (again, including the actual King) by convening before they arrived in London? Then why is it automatically assumed that it was meant to be an insult to Richard? Why are more pragmatic reasons never considered? After all, there was a 20+ day gap between Edward IV's death and Richard's arrival in London - governance of the entire country couldn't exactly be put on pause until then. Long story short, it's possible Mancini could misunderstood Dorset's statement/intent or - more likely - that he was unknowingly reflecting Ricardian propaganda specifically aimed to present Dorset in a bad light (as an aggressor who tried to exclude Richard, with Richard merely claiming his "rightful" place). And either way, even if he did say something along those lines, Dorset was not the senior or most influential member of the family: that was Elizabeth Woodville and his uncle Anthony. So Dorset's words - if he actually said something like that - can hardly be taken as evidence that his entire family felt the same, especially since Anthony & Dorset's own brother Richard Gray clearly went to dine with Richard in peace. Especially since we know Thomas obeyed his mother: he went with her into sanctuary, and he apparently tried to return to England from exile as she asked him to after she made a deal with Richard.

**The Woodvilles and Hastings do seem to have been at odds. This didn't stop them from working together during Edward's reign (we have plenty examples of them cooperating, there is no evidence of a divide between them in Edward IV's charters as there was for the Woodvilles & Nevilles in the 1460s, Hastings praised Elizabeth in 1480 and clearly recognized her superior influence with Edward IV, etc), but - unlike the case with Richard - there is genuine evidence of hostility between them. We don't know if this would have mattered as much if Edward V was an adult, or if he'd already been present at London at the time of Edward IV's death. But either way, we shouldn't exaggerate this or act as though it meant Edward V was doomed. It was very normal for different parties/families to have conflicts during minorities; it had happened to pretty much all minor kings prior to 1483, it had never stopped them from working together before, and it sure as hell had never led to usurpation. Moreover, if the Woodvilles and Richard had been able to work together, animosity between the Woodvilles and Hastings would not have mattered. There are indications that cooperation between them was entirely possible: Horrox has observed that the commissions agreed upon by the first council after Edward's death tried to balance out their interests. Lastly, we ... probably shouldn't overexaggerate Hastings' position after Edward IV's death, imo. He was very important and influential, yes, but he was also not a member of the immediate royal family; it's a pretty massive stretch to automatically assume he would have been as relevant as Elizabeth, the Woodvilles, or Richard during Edward V's minority. This can be supported by evidence: after Edward IV's death, his council gathered around Elizabeth, not Hastings; Richard sent messages promising to arrive and swear fealty to her, not Hastings; the final authority when it came to the young king rested with her, not Hastings. Moreover, once Richard and Buckingham came to power, Croyland explicitly states that Hastings wanted to "serve" them and "earn their favor". In other words, he was not leading the council himself. His reaction to Richard & Buckingham and Elizabeth & the Woodvilles may have been the opposite, but either way, the impression I get of Hastings' position in both scenarios seems to have been exactly the same: he was important and influential, but he was not the one in charge. Of course, this is just my personal interpretation - my main point is simply that while the Woodvilles and Hastings may have had problems, at the very least, there is no reason at all to assume this would have affected Edward V's position as King. His deposition was entirely unexpected, and very much the result of Richard's own unprecedented decisions.

[ronanziriano]

Augusnippets Day 20 - Quenched Thirst

Drip. Drip. Drip.

For a little while, Whumpee didn’t even quite register the sound as real. He wondered if it was a dehydration-induced hallucination, teasing him.

But when he peeled his eyes open to investigate, he spotted it. The tiniest little splash, right in the middle of empty concrete floor.

Warily Whumpee crawled toward it and looked up. When he squinted, he could see it: a thin, jagged crack in the ceiling, running from the outer wall and into the center, a dark, damp spot right at the end marking the source of the dripping water.

Whumpee brought his eyes back down to the floor, watching intently as another drop hit the floor. A small puddle was beginning to spread on the ground, shallow and far from wide, but a puddle all the same.

This was the first time he’d seen water in… days? How long had it been since Whumper had come through that door, now firmly bolted closed, with rations? Too long. His throat was raw, tongue like sandpaper, whole body exhausted and desperate.

Desperate enough to roll onto his back and position himself beneath the drip from the ceiling, letting his mouth fall open.

The first merciful drop went straight to the back of his throat, so he didn’t get a chance to savor it. For the next, Whumpee adjusted himself to ensure the drop landed on his tongue. It wasn’t exactly refreshing - the water was slightly warm, and there was a somewhat chalky feel to it. He wondered if some of the plaster from the ceiling was dripping down along with the water.

It didn’t matter, though. These drops were still much better than no water at all, and Whumpee gratefully drank up anything he could get.

@augusnippets

[clowningaroundmars]

Happy bday Miles!!!

it was miles' bday yesterday! i was hard at work pumping this thing out but alas it was already past my bedtime when i finally finished it u_u

this is... very last minute and i'm p sure you can tell but i hope yall enjoy anyhow LOL

for my (belated) gift to the mileses i present: miles and miles g celebrating their birthday together! and g getting a gift better than anything anyone could wrap up for him :) <3

Miles G was nervous. Very nervous.

It was already August third, a date he never really ever paid much attention to before today, but here it was.

The day.

His birthday. His 16th birthday, to be exact. And not just his birthday, but the birthday that other dimensional variants of himself shared as well.

Namely, one Miles Morales from Earth-1610 came to mind, especially now as he held his wrapped package in one hand and shuffled nervously from one foot to another.

The suffocating darkness of Earth-42’s late evening was falling and falling quickly, which would otherwise ignite something in him on a normal day. But, as he fiddled with his dimensional watch strapped to his right wrist, he knew this wasn’t any normal evening out.

After the events of… the utter and total chaos of his inter-dimensional doppelganger crashing into their universe out of nowhere once many months ago, life was never the same for him or his family.

As a result of the inter-dimensional shenanigans that ensued, his mother Rio finally found out about his secret identity and his illicit vigilante dealings on the nights he usually got away with his uncle Aaron, and that was… well.

It was a Time, alright.

Eventually, after boxing both his and his uncle’s ears and giving them a stern lecture, Rio slowly warmed up to the idea of her son going out and doing what he needed to do in order to assist with NYC’s battle against the fascist oppression that the Sinister Six were insisting upon the city. With help, of course.

Rio’s one condition was that Miles G’s new spider-themed friends would come and help and make sure her son was still on the straight and narrow, that he wasn’t going to get too hurt.

She figured that if Miles G wasn’t going to back down from being a hero in his own right, then he might as well have someone by his side helping him achieve his goals… and helping out at the hospital and F.E.A.S.T. as well every now and then, of course!

Now, she was waiting right by the door to the rooftop, holding it open with a hip and looking on at her son approvingly. It was August of course, but that night on Earth-42 happened to be a bit chillier than normal. Her hair frizzed with the humidity that hung thick in the air and she wrapped her hands around her arms as she smiled.

Miles glances up and notices the rolling darkness overhead moving in a bit too quickly. Must be a storm brewing again, then. It sure smelled like it, anyways.

“Good luck, mijo! Tell them I said happy birthday to the other you!” Rio calls, just as something suspiciously thunder-like starts growling on the other end of the city. “Y no te preocupes tanto, Miles! Tu pareces tan nervioso! Relax a little, it’ll be a fun time, right?”

Miles G offers her a crooked smile. It didn’t really feel genuine at all, just a mask he plasters onto his face to hopefully placate his mother, which seems to work. Rio beams at him and then the winds start picking up.

“Okay, goodnight Miles! Te amo!” Her voice is almost drowned out by the sudden chilly gust that blows through and whips her hair in different directions. She gives her son one final wave before turning and letting the door shut behind her.

Miles breathes in the ozone that materializes in the air, trying to ground himself in the sudden temperature drop before a streak of lightning bursts through the clouds and flashes out of the corner of his eye. Feeling his anxiety bubbling through his nerves and into his chest, he hastily starts the search for his “twin’s” dimension.

The idea of going to a party and celebrating his birthday for the first time in years, alongside his doppelganger and his family in a dimension that isn’t his-- but probably should have been-- made his stomach roil a bit.

But thunderstorms? Those were a whole different level of hell no.

The quickly-developing storm gave Miles G just that last bit of courage he needed to take the leap, metaphorically speaking.

The portal he opens once he finds Earth-1610 almost instantaneously blinks into existence right before him. Well, also literally speaking, too, he muses sardonically as well, peering into the bright neon hues of his own custom-made portal.

He didn’t really know whether he liked Hobie Brown from Earth-138 yet, but he sure as hell was never going to get used to the fact that that kid straight up just reverse-engineered technology from the future, on his own. That alone put Hobie high up on the ranks of respect in Miles’ own mind.

Well. No more time to waste. Another burst of electricity streaked through the night sky, illuminating the angry dark rain clouds advancing on the city like jaguars ready to pounce. The anxiety threatened to burst forth from Miles’ chest just like the booming thunder that clapped in the air just then, and he took that as his cue to move.

He hated jumping through these portals, but hated storms even more. With one breath held tightly into his lungs, he stepped forward…

… And landed on some cardboard boxes.

Goddamnit.

Not a bad place to land, though, given his watch was still a prototype Hobie had cooked up last-minute to enable non-superpowered beings to travel through space and time without getting their nuclei scrambled like omelets.

All in all, not the worst position he’s found himself in, either. Not like that one time with those guard dogs… shudder. Anyways.

Miles G slowly stood up, head on a swivel as he immediately takes in his surroundings, hoping no one saw the giant burst of purple and blue lights that his portal emitted. Behind him, the aforementioned portal quickly fizzled out and blinked out of existence.

He seemed to land in an empty, but very smelly alleyway next to some restaurant on Earth-1610, if the wafting smell of greasy food hitting his nostrils was anything to go by. Dozens of styrofoam containers and wet-looking garbage bags sat piled up next to an overflowing dumpster, and a rat or two started to make their break for it once Miles lifted his legs out of the pile he landed in to connect sneaker soles to concrete.

He dusts himself off, groaning something about needing to find that twiggy punk and throttle him for not getting him his own stabilized watch sooner, when the back door of said restaurant suddenly swung open and a mean-looking, heavyset man with a hell of a beer gut started scowling at him.

“Aye! Whaddya doin’ back here, dumpster diving? Punk kid! Get outta here!”

Miles G’s own upper lip curled with full teenage disdain. “I’m not dumpster diving, genius. I’m takin’ a shortcut through here. That alright with you? It ain’t illegal,”

“Takin a shortcut?” The man’s eyes bulge out with rage. “Lyin’ punk! Get on outta here!” He hurls more curse words at Miles and shakes his fist like a cartoon character yelling at someone to get off their lawn.

Miles simply rolls his eyes, stoops over to fetch his gift from the giant pile of discarded cardboard boxes and brushes it off as well. He tosses a sarcastic salute at the man as he makes his way down the alleyway.

“Stay classy, my man,” he grumbles and steps out into the blinding rays of the late August evening on Earth-1610.

It was lucky he was found by this man on this dimension rather than back home, because otherwise his encounter would have been possibly twice as deadly than a grumpy old restaurant cook simply shaking a fist at him.

It was one of the many things about this mirror-dimension that he needed to get used to, at first. The adults back on 42 were twice as aggressive and authoritative as the ones from here, and it was something very relieving to find out once he first stepped into this world.

Here-- even though things didn’t quite sit right in his cells about being in a world so similar to his, but yet slightly skewed-- he could really relax. He could let his shoulders down a bit, loosen his muscles, not hold his head up so high. He could truly live.

So now, even though he was most definitely going to be late to this party at his twin’s house (if his directional instinct was anything close to accurate), he was relatively chill.

Miles G strolled through the city streets of what looked to be Queens, though whether he was in the east side or the northern side was really up in the air. He turned on his heels towards a subway station and made a beeline for the underground oasis in the desert only to find that the subway map on Earth-1610 was completely flipped from the ones in his dimension.

Damnit. Damn it all. Well, then. Looks like he was gonna be even more late to the party.

He sent his dimensional twin a quick update text and began the long and frustrating process of taking pictures of maps, attempting to turnstile-hop as often as he could, and asking New Yorkers for directions.

Asking for directions and train info from New Yorkers here seemed to have the exact same success rate as it did back home; that is to say, little to none. Great. Miles stopped asking New Yorkers for directions after a while.

It killed him that he couldn’t just go as the crow flies with his gear, on account of needing to keep a low profile in order to not land 1610’s Miles in any hot water.

He missed his bungee and parkour gear something fierce after getting turned around yet again, hands picking at the stupid present’s gift wrapping impatiently after hopping onto the correct train this time. You’d think that a kid living and getting by all on his own in the city would make him a better navigator of public transportation, but alas. Even a 16 year old kid living his entire life in the bowels of the concrete jungle gets inbound and outbound trains confused sometimes. Go figure.

It seemed like it took forever and a half to finally find himself setting foot on the familiar streets of the Williamsburg area in Brooklyn, but the brownstones and corner streets eventually started shaping themselves into something much more familiar to him, much to his relief.

Cool. So this was Miles G’s domain, finally.

Even if all of the details were slightly off, even if some stores weren’t quite named correctly enough not to tickle a weird part in his brain as he walked past them, this was home. He knew it, and he felt his own “spidey senses” go off once he made his way closer and closer to his-- and Miles’-- apartment block.

G did a double take as he walked past the usual stream of faceless pedestrians and spotted a familiar puff of dark hair in the crowd. It was Miles!

Miles G may not have had that strange precognitive superpower that all of the other spider-people seemed to have, but it looked as though his body's cells had minds of their own as they gravitated towards his dimensional doppelganger bounding up to him with a joyful gait.

Miles was clad in his usual bright sporty colors, grinning as brightly as the sunset that cast everything in a nice warm hue all around them.

They dapped each other up as a casual greeting, immediately starting up their banter.

“You’re finally here, man, goddamn! Gettin’ old now, getting turned around more nowadays?” Miles ribbed his twin playfully.

“Ha, ha,” Miles G replied sarcastically, “You and me are the same age, remember? Anything you say about me--”

“You say about yourself. I know that one, smartass. I was the one who came up with that first, you can’t quote me back at me!”

“Arrest me, then,” G stuck out his chin defiantly and laughed when he got a strong jab to the side.

They quibbled like this all the way down the streets, two teenage boys just basking in the last golden rays of the sunset before it finally darkened to a nice purple haze on their shared birthday. A beautiful cloudless evening, the complete and total opposite of the raging storms most likely tearing their way through Earth-42's Brooklyn night.

G was enjoying himself so much that he forgot how nervous he was before this moment.

Navigating the streets of New York City alone with not much help from his own cellphone or the people around him distracted him long enough to put his worries off to the side for a while, and now that he’s reaching the steps to his own apartment building, it seems like all those worries are bubbling back up again.

His purple sneakers freeze right on the bottom steps of the Brooklyn brownstone he always called home, watching as his doppelganger reaches for the door handle and only stopping once he notices G fall silent behind him.

They pause together, and Miles tosses an all-too-casual glance over his shoulder up towards the stairs before letting the door shut behind him again.

They sit together on the stairs, side-by-side.

Miles G is taking a couple of deep breaths, using the box breathing method Miles taught him a while ago.

Miles asks him, “you sure you wanna do this, bro?”

“Yes,” Miles G answers, a little too quickly.

Glances are exchanged, a million words shared with just one look. G sighs then.

“Okay… maybe… I mean, I do. I really do, wanna… uh,” Miles G takes another deep breath before sitting back and fiddling with the ribbon on the present once more. “… I wanna celebrate this, like not just for you. For me, because it’s… this is gonna be the first time I ever had a party since… well. Anyways, yeah, so I wanna do this. I do! This is important and I have to do this.”

“But?” Miles adds, a bit hesitant. He’d never want to make his dimensional variant feel like he’s being pushed or pressured, especially when he looks like he’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack.

“But,” G emphasizes the T, “I… fuck, this is gonna sound kinda lame but, ugh. I hate sayin’ it out loud. But…!”

“Jeff, right?” Miles offers him his most comforting expression. G hates it anyhow.

G hangs his head, clasping his hands over the box. “Yeah,” he admits, full of shame. “It’s dumb and I should be over it by now--”

“Bro, stop. Look,” Miles sighs in a way that reminds G of Rio a little too much, making his heart clench. “Your dad passed away, man. That is tough. That's the literal definition of trauma, and there’s nothing anyone can say about that. But you shouldn’t beat yourself up over not having like a linear progression on healing or whatever. You’re never really gonna get over it, like ever. And that’s okay, man. Losing a family member like that’s hard. Real hard.”

Aaron, G thinks to himself then, nodding slowly. Miles is probably the only person who understood the visceral and soul-crushing feeling of watching a beloved family member die at such a young age; and a father figure as well, at that.

Sure, all the other spider-people lost their uncle Bens or Tonys or whatever they said their uncles’ names were. But Miles lost Aaron. Aaron Davis. A man that was held in such high regard by the both of them, a key player in the way they both grew up and formed their own personalities as kids. There was nobody like him, and that was a fact.

It felt simultaneously weird and also comforting to know exactly what Miles was thinking, feeling, because in a lot of small but significant ways, their pain mirrored each other’s. Miles knew. G knew.

There wasn’t anything else left to say.

Well…

“I gotta go up,” Miles G said quietly after a small bout of silence.

Miles shrugged non-committaly. “Only if you’re ready,” he replied.

“No,” G shook his head, his neatly-done braids wiggling alongside the movement. “I have got to man up and stop bein’ so pussy right now. He’s not my dad. He isn’t my dad and I can do this!”

Miles blew out a breath and leaned back on the stairs behind him, legs spread as he crosses his arms. “Dude, look at me. Dad’s not gonna be weird this time, okay? We talked to him and he’s cool about everything and he is not gonna be weird. Everyone understands if you need some time to yourself, like in my room or up on the roof, just in case. This isn’t mandatory, you know. You don't have to push yourself.”

“I know this isn’t mandatory but I don’t wanna ruin your special day, alright? I’ve gone years with no birthdays, I’ll be fine. I’ll live,” Miles G bit out. It was much harsher than he intended it to come out, so he tried to save the conversation. “I uhm… sorry. I mean… it’s no biggie to me if I have to skip out or whatever. If it’s too weird, y’know? If you guys don’t want me here... I just don’t wanna, like, step all over your guys’… lives. The way you all do things. I know it’s different.” G gives a half-hearted shrug, hoping his twin will catch on to what he’s trying to convey.

Miles leans forward then, clapping a hand on G’s shoulder and shaking him a bit. “Man, you worry too much. Just like me,” he laughs, “I can’t believe I’m like this! Goddamn,” he shakes his head.

G groans. “Am I, though? Am I worrying too much? Ain’t this whole situation just… weird?”

Miles waves his hands around as he speaks. “Yeah, but… teen heroes in spandex costumes shooting webs out of their wrists is weird, too. I promise you’re not ruining anyone’s day by existing. My parents love you, dude, you’re fine. Either way, no one’s gonna think bad of you if you wanna stay or go.”

G sighs deeply, steeling himself. “Then I’ll stay. We’ll do… the birthday things. It’ll be fine,”

“If you insist!” Miles shrugs again and moves to stand up.

G snorts derisively and puffs himself up to his twin’s height once they’re both on their feet. “I hate when you do that shit, man!”

“Do what?” Miles holds his palms aloft, grinning crookedly.

“Don’t play dumb, Morales. Just…” G wedges the box he was holding in between the ornate railings of the stairs and pops back up, annoyed. “Look at me. I look fine, right? I’m not dressed down too much?” He holds his arms akimbo.

Miles laughs again, giving his twin a well-meaning once-over.

“Hair good, kicks good?” Miles G presses, sending Miles a look all the while.

“Yes, yeah, dude. You look fine. Everything’s gonna be fine! Stop freakin’ out!”

“You’re pulling your stupid nonchalant cool guy shtick and I hate it. You know that makes me even more nervous, right? It does not help, not even a little,”

Miles cackles as he pulls the door open once more, motioning for G to hand him the wrapped present. “You are unbelievable, man. Completamente insoportable!”

They bicker once again all the way up three flights of stairs, as naturally as if they had done it for years until they reach Miles’ family apartment and push their way through the doorframe.

They don’t even get to set one Jordan into the living room before Earth-1610’s Rio is leaping out from right around the corner and shouting SURPRISE!!! right into their faces.

Behind her, Jeff wears a party hat and blows on a dinky little party horn.

Both Mileses stood frozen staring into the face of their excited mother before Miles opens his mouth to speak.

“Mamí, I already told you this wasn’t a surprise party!”

“No, pero yo quería, como… hacer un algito para el niño, sabes?" Rio answers innocently, cheesy grin plastered on her face as she reaches for a balloon floating nearby and hands it to G.

“Anyways,” Miles gives his twin a sidelong glance and holds his present aloft, picking his way past the balloons on the floor to deposit it next to a pile of boxes and bags. "Sorry about them, they're... y'know. They mean well, but--"

"Of course we do! What's with this attitude all of a sudden?" Jeff complains, taking off his comically small party hat and setting it aside.

“Last night, we had my party with the fam on the rooftop, and today it’s just us here. We’re gonna watch a movie and eat together if you don’t mind,” Miles begins again, by way of explaining the massive pile of gifts in the living room corner. “I figured your first party in a while should be more... lowkey. Just a totally casual and definitely not weird birthday celebration, right guys?” He shoots looks at both of his parents, who both nod.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Totally casual. We cool, we cool,” Jeff assures his son, punching at his shoulder playfully. “When have we ever not been cool? About, y’know… this whole inter-dimensional universe stuff?”

“Dad!” Miles groans.

G smiles a bit, shoving his hands in his pockets and hiking his shoulders up to his ears. “Yeah this sounds cool, actually. Real good, better than…”

“Than what you thought it’d be?” Miles grins, “you really think I’d just throw you into a massive block party with the whole family out of nowhere?”

“No, but,” G kicks off his sneakers as their parents go into the kitchen and start laying pots and bowls out onto the dining room table. “I dunno… I thought it’d be more than just us. But this is nice, yeah. I don’t mind this at all.”

“As I knew you wouldn’t!” Then, a little louder, “what’d I say, dad?”

“I still got some of the crew on speed dial with gifts if you want!” Jeff calls out from the kitchen.

G laughs aloud and shakes his head, finally relaxing for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Together, the four set up dinner on the table to laugh and eat, celebrating two birthdays with two versions of the same Miles. They toast to another happy birthday, tacking on a little “here’s hoping G survives until the next one” for good measure.

Miles elbowed his father for that, but G was more than grateful that he had some more people in his corner, even if they were from different dimensions. Knowing that he had another set of parents praying for his health and his safety in a world that seemed so far away and distant as to be from a completely different galaxy made his heart clench in a way he didn’t know how to articulate yet.

He raised his own glass and prayed for their health and safety as well.

Then they settled into the living room together to watch a goofy horror-comedy movie that Jeff insisted on picking out himself.

“So Miles let me know the other day that he doesn't really actually like horror movies much, which was-- y’know definitely not feeling betrayed or anything ‘cause of that, but.” He shot his son a look.

“Oh my god, this again,” Miles groans, rolling his eyes and smiling exasperatedly.

“Anyways, dunno what your horror tolerance is, is all. Don’t know if you love it or hate it, but my wife hates horror and I love it. I figure this one’s a good middle ground.”

G sat forward, clasping his hands together in front of him. “You hate horror movies?” He asks his twin.

Miles throws his hands up in the air. “Do not tell me you’re gonna say that you’re shocked ‘cause you love it,”

G bobs his head and laughs. “I’m gonna say that I’m shocked ‘cause I absolutely love horror. Huh! That’s… that’s kinda funny we’re different like that,” he hummed in thought.

Miles sighs. “Oh right, of course. My twin who is absolutely better than me at everything ever happens to love the same stuff my dad does. Man, y’know what, I’m wavin’ the white flag. You can have him if you want!”

“Huh?” Jeff looks back and forth between his two sons as they laugh.

"Pero así tampoco!" Rio laughs along with them. “No one is stealing anyone’s father tonight, boys. Come on now,”

“I’m saying!” Miles offers anyways.

“I’m good,” G replies good-naturedly.

“Hold on, you two are not saying what I think you’re saying,” Jeff finally catches up to speed.

The whole room laughs at that, joy and comfort palpable in the air as the family settles down after bantering some more. They pass the bowls of popcorn and watch their movie, commenting on terrible acting and cackling at bad jokes.

G settles down, really relaxing this time, as he sinks deeper into the comfortable couch cushions and basks in the normalcy of this life. He was grateful the family didn’t make him feel like he was a guest, or an intruder into their seemingly perfect lives of familial affection. This was a million times better than awkward happy birthday songs and loud music,. It was much more… intimate. Intimate in ways that G himself hadn’t been allowed to feel since his own father’s passing.

He was grateful that his own dimensional variant understood what it was that he could handle, and what he couldn’t, completely judgement-free. It left a warm feeling deep in his chest he hadn’t ever known he was even capable of feeling. Maybe that was Miles’ real gift to G, the perfect environment for anyone to be able to let their walls down, even just a little.

It made the homemade sketchbook as his gift to his twin seem so silly in comparison, in the end. Oh well.

The night ended wonderfully, with each parent getting G his own gifts on top of the one Miles dumped unceremoniously in his lap towards the end of his visit.

But it was getting late, and the night was getting progressively darker.

The nighttime wasn’t nearly as suffocating and all-encompassing as Earth-42’s nights, especially considering it was a clear and crisp night on 1610, the total opposite of the angry weather back home… but the hour was getting longer nonetheless and G’s tranquil visit to this dimension was drawing to a close.

“I wish you could sleep over this time, y’know. Kind of a bummer that you can’t”, Miles bumped shoulders with G as they sat side-by-side on the couch.

“Mmmn, yeah” G sighed.

“Hold on, what am I missing here? I thought he was going to stay tonight!” Rio pipes up from her end of the couch, brow raised.

G looks up at her. “Uhh, no. I have, uh, I have a thing… in the morning, with uncle Aaron. So,”

Jeff grunts disapprovingly, earning him a glare from Miles.

Miles then turns back to his twin. “It’s fine, we get it. Let’s try to make some more time in the future to hang soon, though, right? This was fun!”

They both smile at each other and then start to get up, gathering discarded wrapping paper from Miles opening his gift from G.

G himself tries tucking his unopened presents into his light sweater, zipping it up and holding the boxes against him with crossed arms.

“If I don’t hold ‘em like this, they’ll go flying everywhere in the portal back home,” he explains to Miles’ parents.

Miles shoves his hands in his pockets and agrees that that's a great idea before suggesting they not open a portal in the middle of the living room where all of his birthday balloons and gifts were still in neat piles.

G finally bids everyone a good night before climbing up the final set of stairs up to the rooftop, with Miles right on his heels.

They dap each other up again and Miles eventually pulls G into a hug.

“Man, what you doin’ that soft shit for?” G ribs Miles playfully, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“I dunno, you look like you could use some soft shit after tonight. You looked like you didn’t even wanna leave my apartment,”

G rolls his eyes but concedes anyways. “Uh huh, yeah… shit was nice there, for a second… things were real nice.” He trails off, then gathers himself back up again. “Your dad was great back there, by the way. So… looks like your talk with him was good, it was effective.” He sniffed.

Miles purses his lips. “Hmmm, was he, though? He coulda been a little better, honestly.”

G shakes his head, laughing. “You need to stop being so hard on your parents, kid. They’re great. They are.”

“Yeah, I know. Your fam’s great, too, by the way. Let Aaron know that I really love his gift he left me the other day, when you get back,”

G does a double take. “That he-- that he left you? How? He’s got a watch now?”

“I think…? I think he stole yours, honestly, bro. Or… I dunno, knowing him, he might’ve already reverse engineered his own by now,” Miles offers a wincing shrug, chuckling a bit at the shocked expression on his own face standing a little ways away from him.

“Wh--! Goddamn. Well.” G sniffed again and fixed the hoodie of his sweater casually, adjusting the gifts inside. “Well, damn. Thanks for letting me know about that, I guess.”

Miles throws G a salute and steps back, right by the rooftop door and then G's suddenly reminded of his own mother most likely already asleep back home.

He loves 1610, sure, but in that very moment, his heart ached for his own-- definitely not perfect but-- comforting home.

He opens his portal behind him, purple neon rings and hazy blue light emitting from it, an occasional green static flickering in and out, and the smell of wet pavement and rain hits them both almost instantaneously. Potted plants, chairs and crates sat nearby start floating in the air.

Miles whistles low. “It’s raining back where you’re at, man. I’m jealous. You get to fall asleep to rain!”

G only shrugs, not wanting to let his twin know anything about his fear of storms. That was a topic that would have to brought up later. “You have a good night, too, man. You can look up rain sounds on Youtube if you need to,”

Miles huffs out a laugh. “You got jokes! Nice!”

“Always, genius. I always do. Take it easy, man.”

G steps backwards, his last sight of 1610 being his twin standing by the half-open door to the roof, warm hallway light illuminating him from behind, small pinpricks of little sparkles in the deep blue night sky high above them…

And lands right onto his own bed.

G gasps, not possibly believing his own luck this time!

He scrambles around in the dark as quietly as he can, reaching for his lamp by his drafting table and flicking it on. His eyes bounce around the room, taking in every single little familiar detail of his posters, hats lined above the window frame, record player on top of stacked crates in the corner…

It’s home. Thank goodness. No need to traverse the dangerous roads at night past the state-mandated curfew.

Tonight was really shaping up to be an amazing night. What a relief…

Miles G laid back after eventually finishing his night routine and making sure his mother was asleep in her room, hopefully breathing. He had his arms behind his head and a big smile on his face as he thought back to the presents he received from the 1610 Morales family, now stacked neatly on his drafting table to be opened in the morning.

He thought back to the fond gazes he received at the dinner table as they had all chatted over pastelitos and refried beans. He thought back to the warm glow that the city took on during the sunset, how his train rides over to Brooklyn were always much less stress-inducing than the rides on Earth-42 were, no matter how late G was getting to be. He was unbelievably grateful that he got to experience it at all, and that it wasn’t all a fever dream his half-baked brain cooked up on little to no sleep.

No matter what his presents from the Morales family turned out to be, he was already grateful for the best gift that Earth-1610 could ever give him: peace.

[yoshiyakiryu-archive]

Some fresh nonsense about joshneku losing over at @homoeroticbetrayal

"Fancy seeing you here," Joshua chimes from his perch on the cafe seat as Neku approaches the table. It's not Wildkat, but this side-street shop feels unnaturally empty, and all the more unreal for the presence of the smiling Composer, casually seated by the window.

He could be the most powerful entity in the city, but Neku's urge to roll his eyes and tell him to go fuck himself has the budding inescapability of an oncoming sneeze. Only four words in, Neku's already reminded that no matter how much he misses the asshole when he's gone, he's a pain in the ass to have a straightforward conversation with.

"You invited me," Neku gripes, unable to resist giving the eye roll. He slides onto the seat across from Joshua, feeling another one coming on already.

"Hmm, did I? I suppose I must have. Hee hee." Joshua slides one of the two cups in front of him towards Neku. "The coffee here is decent, you should give it a try."

"…Thanks."

He continues being suspicious for a moment, but ultimately trusts Joshua, and the knowledge that poisoning wasn't really his style. If he wants Neku back in the UG, there's nothing stopping Joshua from rattling another bullet through his poor, pre-punctured brain matter. The old one must still be in there, making him think humoring this conversation was a rational idea that won't just end in a headache.

Joshua smiles, two hands on his own paper coffee cup, fingers striking it in sequence, a steady expectant rhythm. As he watches Neku, the motions change. Taking a sip, the scales shift to an energetic tempo, striking keys he cannot see in time with music he cannot hear. Weirdo.

"What did you want, anyway?" Neku asks, setting the coffee down. There's little point in wasting time on pleasantries when Joshua deemed something catastrophic enough to take the risk of actually talking to him.

"Nothing to say about the coffee?"

"Not really." It's pretty average, as far as coffee goes, and it's not a surprise Joshua knows his order.

Joshua hums, digging his phone out of his pocket and adding to what seems to be, from Neku's view of the phone upside down across the table, a personal review log of local restaurants. "That's hardly a riveting opinion, but I'll include it. We wouldn't want to find Players erased of sheer boredom, would we?"

Whatever UG bullshit Joshua was pursuing, Neku wasn't making it his problem to know. He could guess, but he won't. He won't even think about it. Nope, no dead people business here.

Joshua frowns at him through the silence, bordering on a pout, and sets his phone down. 

Neku tilts his head, gesturing with his free hand.

"Well? Did something happen? Why are we here, Josh? Is reality about to collapse in on itself? Did someone important die? Double die?"

"No, no no no, nothing like that," Joshua says waving off his tone. "Well, people die of course, every day. But that's not my concern." He cuts Neku off before he can reply that yeah, it kind of is, by snatching his phone back off the table and waving it in Neku's face. "I'm here about this."

Oh.

That.

The homoerotic betrayal thing. He'd heard about it after the fact when three of his friends texted him their condolences on losing to Brutus and Caesar. He needed to ask for context, and to be frank, didn't know what to make of the whole thing. He could have gone without knowing that "iconic homoerotic betrayal" was a tournament he'd been nominated in, and privately thinks Joshua has got to find more normal ways of hitting on him. Ways that don't involve firearms.

"Isn't that over?" he asks, with little else to say. If it was over, they shouldn't have to worry about it. Problem solved. Neku out. The arcane and meta machinations of the multiverse can remain not his problem.

"Yes," Joshua says, all business, "but we lost."

"So?"

"So, we lost! After all our fans put in such heartwarming work about us too."

Neku mulls over the word "fans" for a long moment, and decides he doesn't want to consider the implications of that either. He shrugs. "Okay."

"Neku," Joshua says, placing the phone between them and folding his hands loosely over his drink, "I don't think you're taking this very seriously."

"No shit, Sherlock," Neku snaps, indulging that eye roll. "You're not telling me why I should."

"Because we lost," Joshua says, forced patience, as sincere as he ever gets, "and because I have reason to suspect there was UG involvement." He picks up his phone again, opening an app before handing it over. "Take a look. Do any words stand out to you?"

Neku takes the phone, and scrolls slowly, taking his time to make sure there was nothing obvious for Joshua to scold him about missing, and to make him squirm, until he sees a familiar word. "Memes?"

"An astute observation Neku! I knew I'd chosen you for a reason."

He's insufferable. Neku hands the phone back and sinks down in his seat. Unbelievable.

"Memes, yes." Joshua twirls a lock of hair around his index finger, and Neku takes a sip of coffee to disguise how closely he followed the movement.

"You think that we lost because everyone was Imprinted to vote against us?"

"In short, yes again," Joshua says, smiling once more. "Someone put on their thinking cap today."

Asshole. Bastard. Little snot.

Neku takes a deep breath and swallows the growl climbing his throat.

"Explain."

Joshua hums, then shrugs, palms up and put upon. "I believe there was a site-wide Imprinting campaign leading up to the bracket. Disguised as a celebration of the death of Julius Caesar. You of all people know how easily folks can be swayed by a trend." He slumps down onto his elbows, resting his chin in his hands. "Then we lost," he continues, annoyed. "And I don't like losing."

"Obviously. Isn't it kind of far-fetched to Imprint memes on a whole website?"

"You'd be surprised what some of the Higher Plane get up to in their spare time.

"…Right, don't tell me." He doesn't want to hear about angel hobbies. He doesn't want to think about angel hobbies. "I still don't get why you submitted us to that thing in the first place."

"I didn't."

Eye rolls must come in threes. Joshua has the audacity to look affronted.

"Okay. Sure. I'll believe that. Then why is this so important?"

"I can't tell you," Joshua says, gazing meaningfully into the middle distance fingers tangled in a stray lock of hair.

He is so full of shit. There is not one iota of Joshua that isn't composed of compacted, steaming, fresh shit. This is what happens when you cross the guy's competitive streak with a crush. He should confiscate Joshua's phone. Joshua should talk to him more often.

"But! We could get a second chance," Joshua says, affected wistfulness gone. "I know how big a fan you are of second chances. We'll win the revival match." Joshua leans in, devious and conniving across from him, and Neku knows what's coming even before Joshua does a fingergun in his direction. "You will win us the revival match. By any means necessary."

"And how am I going to do that?" Neku crosses his arms.

Another shrug. "Start Imprinting memes on people yourself. Find the culprit rigging things from before. I'm not fussed about the strategy, as long as we win."

Neku closes his eyes. "I don't get a choice here, do I?"

"It's a homoerotic betrayal tournament, Neku. That's against the spirit of it, wouldn't you say?"

"Fair enough." It isn't. Not really. But Neku's learned to pick his battles. He's learned to pick them very well. "But I set the terms."

"Oh?" Joshua's pitch rises in surprise. "Intriguing. Go on."

Neku lifts up a finger. "One. No penalties for losing." Joshua grumbles against his palm. "Two, if we win, you're showing up for group outings. No excuses or leaving early. Spend time with us."

There's unmatched satisfaction in the way Joshua looks like he's swallowed something far too sour. "These aren't very nice terms, Neku."

"Take them or leave them. And no funny business."

"…Fiiiiiiine. I guess you'll just owe me."

Joshua pulls himself from the table and stands, all drawn-out, fluid movements and exaggerated resignation. His coffee sits abandoned on the table, half finished.

"Owe you!?"

"Hee hee. For being so generous, of course. I'll pick you up when the polls open." Joshua touches his sole fingergun to Neku's temple before leaving the cafe and an exasperated, incredulous Neku. "Toodles."

[stromuprisahat]

Do you think Aleksander actually liked Alina apart from the whole sun summoner thing?

That's kinda the heart of the issue with him- he caught feelings, when he needed to keep his head clear.

I've answered similar questions before, but to keep it short he DID have genuine feelings for her, but both his versions had trouble to see her true selfish, short-sighted self and while one grew to love an idea of what she could become, the other became (due to incredibly shitty writing) straight-up delusional about her goals and personality, whipped to the point he kept crawling back to her for more hatred and abuse.

[yourfavusescontradictorylabels]

Well, you guys did it.

YOU GOT ME TO 500+ FOLLOWERS‼️🎉

I can't thank you all enough, I'm so glad so many people have found this blog. But more importantly, I know many people have felt validated in their identity just from my blog's existence (there are MANY asks in my inbox and interactions I've recieved expressing such sentiments) and I could not be happier I've made this kind of impact.

Things are a bit slow at the moment but I am planning a short event (ideally about a week long) to celebrate this milestone. I couldn't be more grateful for every interaction and all the attention I've recieved, I'm honored.