#and even if they were that's certainly not enough to keep him afloat by itself

[beatcroc]

🔥 unsolicited, my unpopular pizza tower opinion is that I um. I don't think peppino is actually any better off postgame. Like financially I mean. It's not like the tower was stealing his customers or anything, and he's still out in the middle of fuckdamn nowhere, which I assume is the main reason his business was failing in the first place. He's got some peace of mind and some new pals postgame sure, but uh. Far as i can tell the main problems haven't really changed at all.

#everybody went out to eat there once but you cannot convince me theyre regulars #and even if they were that's certainly not enough to keep him afloat by itself #bweeeaaahh #i would live to believe everything's chill for him now but like... girl how are u customers

[centaurianthropology]

One thing that I think a lot of Disco Elysium meta misses (likely because a lot of it is very clearly written by young Americans writing from an intensely American-centric cultural perspective without even really realizing it) is that one of the singular and central themes of the game is massive-scale generational trauma in a home that is economically collapsing as its resources and people are being drained by an occupation.  People have noted that no one tries to help Harry, despite the fact his mental illness is incredibly obvious to everyone around him.  He tells Kim that he completely lost his memory, and Kim politely asks him to focus on the work.  He tells Gottlieb that he had a heart attack, and Gottlieb tells him that if he’s still alive it couldn’t have been that bad.  That he’ll drop dead sooner or later, but then so does everyone.

And that’s the most important thing: so does everyone.  Look at Martinaise.  Look at the world in which Harry lives.  It is not our own, but it is adjacent to ours.  More specifically, it is clearly adjacent to the states of the Eastern Bloc: overtaken and occupied by a faraway government that clearly doesn’t care about Revachol or its people.  And that is obvious in every tired face, every defeated citizen, everyone trying to eke out a little happiness or meaning in spite of the overwhelming trauma and damage around them.  The buildings are still half-destroyed.  The bullet holes are still in the walls.  The revolution was decades before, but it still feels to the people there like a fresh wound.  The number of men of Harry’s generation who are not alcoholic or otherwise deeply fucked up are very few.  Some, like Kim, hide it better, but the deeper you dig into his history, the more you realize how damaged Kim is.  He’s more than a little trigger happy, and hates that about himself, but he is a product of his environment: Kim’s entire life is seeing people he cared about shot and killed, so his instinct now is to shoot first himself, to protect those few people left who still matter to him.

Harry is not unique in his trauma.  He is a distillation of an entire culture of people who tried to rise up and make something beautiful, and were instead routed and occupied.  He is trapped between the occupation and the people on the ground, along with all the rest of the RCM.  Their authority comes from the occupying government, but it is implied that they were formed out of the remnants of the citizens militia which sprung up from Revachol itself as a way to try to mitigate some of the horrors being committed on its streets.  The Moralintern sure as hell wasn’t going to get their hands dirty, so they happily conscripted (and therefore could better control) this group, who are only recognized in certain places, and whose authority mostly amounts to giving out fines.  The RCM is corrupt, but it is corrupt in the same way its culture is.  Bribes are considered standard with them, not a moral failing, but a necessity, so long as those bribes are correctly logged as ‘donations’.  It’s how the RCM stays afloat, and the rest of Revachol completely understands that.  Everyone would take a bribe if it meant they kept eating.  Everyone would take a little under-the-table money if it meant keeping a roof over their heads.  The officersof the RCM certainly don’t make enough to see a doctor.  They have an in-house lazarus, and if he can’t fix them they just die.  Mental health care?  What mental health care?  Harry doesn’t get it for the same reason no one else does: it doesn’t really seem to exist.  There are no counselors, no psychologists, no psychiatrists.  How would they even start?  If the world is what is broken, if everyone is suffering a similar catastrophic amount, it makes sense that Harry’s trauma would simply get rolled up with all the rest.  Kim asks him to get on with the job because Harry’s suffering is not remarkable in Revachol.  He is one of an entire generation who have an astronomical number of orphans from the revolution, and so many younger people are left more or less orphans as their parents drink themselves into oblivion like Cuno’s father.  So Harry’s truly unique attribute is embodying all that trauma, having it all inside of him, filling him to bursting.

To really engage with the themes of the game, engaging first and foremost with the reality of Revachol is imperative.  Imposing our own reality onto Revachol, particularly if coming from an American perspective (which tend to have the habit of both viewing the world through an American lens and not realizing they’re doing it because they’ve never experienced a different lens), will always feel shallow to me because of this.

All that is to say, I would love to hear some more explicitly European meta about this game, and especially Eastern European meta.  If anyone can point me to some good, juicy essays from that perspective, I would be grateful!

#Disco Elysium #is such a good game #but I found a lot of the meta around it frustratingly shallow #and very VERY American #which is also frustrating #given how clearly Eastern European the roots of this game are #I have no problem with people using a game or other work of fiction to inform their own lives and experiences #but I find it strange when people engage with the game #as though it was coming from an American perspective #asking why certain things happen or didn't #based on how they would play out or have played out in America #anyway this a rambly way to request some meta from other cultural perspectives #I am very interested in reading it! #Disco Elysium meta

[descendant-of-truth]

Sooo has anyone else noticed that Chaos Sonic seems to know things about Sonic that he logically shouldn't?

He constantly brings up Sonic's failures, describes him as looking "sad and pathetic" and being "tragic" when Sonic doesn't even look upset, and seems to have inherited chili dogs as his favorite food to boot.

But the Chaos Council doesn't know about Sonic's biggest failures. They don't know that he feels sad about anything, or that he likes chili dogs. Not even Nine knows these things in detail, and even if he did, we're not given any indication that he told the Council anything after giving them the initial idea for Chaos Sonic by accident.

And yet, he takes every opportunity to poke at Sonic's insecurities, even targeting his friends and blaming him for getting them hurt.

How does he know Sonic well enough to make these kinds of targeted remarks? I like that he can, it leads to a lot more interesting interactions than if he couldn't, but what's the in-universe explanation?

Well, Sonic absorbed some of the Prism's energy when it shattered, and Chaos Sonic was created mostly with the energy from the shards. While this could give them a sort of mental connection, it doesn't seem to go both ways, and I have a slightly more specific theory for how it all works.

That being: I think the Prism itself knows Sonic. Which is kind of a bold claim, I think, but hear me out.

First of all, the energy that's in Sonic's body (once tempered with Nine's tech of course) adapts his gloves and shoes to his environment in ways that'll protect him. New Yoke doesn't require anything special, but the Boscage Maze has tall trees that are difficult to climb, so it gives him retractable claws. No Place is filled with water, and Sonic can't swim, so he gets hover shoes to keep him afloat even if he falls in.

That's a suspicious amount of intent going on there, isn't it? And they appear the instant Sonic enters a new world, so he doesn't even encounter the obstacles his clothes are protecting him from before getting them. It's like the energy already knows what the world is like and what Sonic's capabilities are.

Secondly, Shadow reacts physically to the giant sparkly specter of Tails that shows up in the void, which tells me that those are all Actual Things that the Prism conjured up.

And that's. kind of weird, right? I just assumed these were symbolic of memories flashing through Sonic's head, but I guess they're also flashing through space itself, which I will admit did get a laugh out of me the first time I watched it

(They might not be "memories" exactly since we never flashback to when these lines were originally said, but they're certainly Something that came from Sonic's head so my point still stands)

Finally, when the Chaos Council uses the Prism energy to make the Giant Eggman, it specifically takes the form of the original. That didn't come from Mister Doctor's imagination - that's how Sonic remembers Eggman.

Not to mention, they keep hammering home how uniquely linked Sonic is to the Prism, so why not have it be the other way around? I'm not saying that the Paradox Prism has to have any kind of sentience for this theory to work (in fact I'd be surprised if it did), but it could be acting as a sort of container for data on Sonic, just like how Sonic is a container for its power.

And if that's the case, then it explains how Chaos Sonic knew so much; he's tapped into that very data bank from the get-go. It also complicates the question of how to restore the Prism a bit, because yeah Sonic might have to put his energy back into it, but does the Prism have to give anything back to him in return?

Regardless of the answer, I'm really looking forward to learning more about how the Paradox Prism works (and also any potential future Chaos Sonic appearances because I loved every moment he was on screen)

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #chaos sonic #analysis #meta #*deconstructs the lore of the whole show to explain why Chaos Sonic likes chili dogs* another day well spent

[anantaru]

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — you had once sworn to always love the 11th harbinger childe, no matter what circumstances you'd face together, to love and cherish him for all eternity, even the hidden side he couldn‘t hide any longer from you.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 2.4k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, foul legacy! childe, vampire! teeth, tw blood, blood sucking, monster[fu]cking, tw huge size difference, very messy, loads of filth, slight feral childe, cw two cocks, anal, double penetration

a beclouded, overcasting darkness torrents and deluges over your cold, moonless room. it's silent, as if trapped in a frozen lake and you exhale heavily through your nose and feel how your breathing stood motionless, cornered in a room.

"it's terrifying, isn't it?" you hear a whisper, "to see me like that, knowing love won't be enough to look past my situation." and a searing, razor edged bolt plunges over your body, which was only covered in a flimsy shirt, your thighs— quivering, without exaggeration petrified yet not out of fear as one might think.

turns out, what made it so terrifying were his next, chosen words;

"yet i love you."

and they felt as if crafted by the universe itself, meticulously chiseled in an edge of relief when childe, the eleventh harbinger, took a step towards you, until looming over the bed, whispering.

"and you love me, don't you?"

by the nature of what he kept expressing to you, the words he spelled out certainly held graven significance, you remember when childe admitted that he fell in love with you the very first time, remember when he said it out loud, kind, innocent, without any twisted torment.

but ajax wasn‘t himself now, or was he? is this who he really was all along? did you fall in love with .. him?

he was someone else, point blank, something. your find yourself being snapped back into reality when a warm tear crosses your cheeks, framing your face and you ask yourself, why am i crying?

even then, you secretly know the answer, you cannot keep yourself off him, you are desperately in love, you crave him, long for his silhouette and kisses, worship the eleventh harbinger entirely and if need be, undoubtedly you'd look past his true self.

granted, the situation was new, fresh and afloat, ajax never revealed you his true, foul legacy form or rather, what it did to him in the long run, a slow, agonizing death, melting away his lifespan— or how it made him perceive himself and what he became of it— bloodthirsty, uncontrollably raging with hunger, in dire pain.

childe lets himself fuse into the bedsheets at last, crawling into your bed, it's the middle of the night, a spine-chilling hour where he confessed the truth of his nature. notwithstanding the fact that he wanted to see how far he could go now, or if he should leave you out of his life completely.

when he hovered over your body, new courage materialized from the tip of his tongue, "do you want me to leave?" he takes off the giant mask, his skin right underneath growing dimmer, resembling a violet pigmentation, revealing his electro infused eyes, pointy ears, his sharp nails, delicately raising your vibrations with soft touches on your thighs.

you might regret this later on but you do not seem scared of him, somehow turning him speechless by your reaction, "no, please stay."

"you mean it?" he sighs, if that was true, then him being a monster was possibly the lesser of the two dangers. "i do." it's quite important to note that childe could barely fit in your bed, nor could he barely fit in between your legs for that matter, and you notice how energy imbued he actually was, his body twitching as if nervous, violet particles pervading off his skin, making you tremble.

"shh," childe looms his thumb over your bottom lip, "how cute." shaking his head and gazing deeply into your eyes, your face burns and without missing a beat, he slides his other hand under your knee, easing to your thigh and spreading you apart, so he could somewhat fit between your legs more sufficiently.

you were about to open your mouth to say something, but then felt childe's large thumb slip into your mouth, rendering over your warm, wet tongue. he presses down on the wet muscle and groans sharply into his chest when you moan, sealing your lips over the digit when he began to push it in and out of you.

your eyes close, and a smaller bump nestles itself between your legs, you feel it, knowing what it was. childe was hard, words cannot hold up to the warmth flushing your entire body when you flutter your lashes down south, a big tent nudging into your core.

a shiver goes up your spine when he pulls his wet finger out of your mouth, the string of saliva attached and breaking in two, hitting your chin. "let me get rid of this." he points out, accentuating the pain in his pants before he pulls them down, not entirely but so they'd rest right under his now, bare erection, his bulky thighs quilling over the leather material of his pants.

your mouth parts at the obscene sight, a bead of sweat trailing its way between your shoulder blades; not only one, but two fully erected cocks in display for your eyes and childe slowly traces the outline with the pad of a finger, hissing out, you can practically hear him grinning over you, almost discern the lewd dreams that probably played across his mind right this second while he mounted over you, casting a shadow down your figure with such ease.

"we'll start slow." his voice rumbles, "as usual." a smirk swaying from left to right, you feel your limbs sink into the mattress, your head hazy, but when he starts to pleasure himself in front of you, you bite your lip as you watch him, indulge in it, sneaky hand traveling down to take some tension off your stimulated pussy that was dizzily fluttering around nothing.

you whine out when you insert your middle finger into your hole and childe wipes away the bundled up saliva off your lips, taking a hold on your chin and lowering his body, "turn around for me." he whispers, looking down to watch you finger yourself ready for him— as if that would actually make the stretch somewhat easier to go by.

but you do as he commands, long since forgotten about the doubts buried in your mind, flipping yourself over and perking your butt up, so he could have the best view on your holes. he never used your different hole before, but childe wasn't unpracticed in taking the necessary steps in order for it to feel good. to try and test the limits of your body, he tapped your hole with his knuckle, pushing it past the tightness as it went in freely enough, and as he felt you loosen around it, he pushed it in and out, only distantly.

after all, he couldn't finger you properly, his nails were sharp and he'd rather dig them into your hips while he fucks roughly into you.

so before anything, he draws back and childe reached over to your nightstand and grabbed into the small drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube, whatever the case, he knew he was big, far greater than in his usual, human form and didn't want to hurt you while looking like this.

nonetheless, he could barely wait, he can feel his nervous breathing puffing against his sweaty chest while he opened the bottle, gushing a generous amount of the translucent liquid on his palm.

you bite your lip back and hide your face in the pillow when you hear it as you wiggle your toes, pretty much the only part of you that's movable when he forces you to lay still, all his weight on the bed, placed on your hips with nowhere else to go, fuck, you're so wet already it made your blood boil in your veins, you underestimated this thing. it's not even inside of you yet but you want to feel it already. 

ajax spreads the moisture on his upper cock, wrapping his tip and girth with it, "there we go." as he plants one of his large palms against your lower back while the other guided his red, swollen erection towards your holes. his touch, addictive, and faithlessly wet, you felt as if your body was submerged underwater and shoved into itself, but when childe moves his erections against your holes, you whine as to signalize your desperation for him.

slow, gradual enough and bolstered with a deep tempo, your wet, aching pussy stretches around childe's cock, while his other member pokes at your other hole, for one, only leaving the tip in and out, watching your reactions closely. but with more lube, it ultimately had began to work, graciously shaping and forming itself into every fold and crevice of his girth.

before moving, he keeps himself settled, his cocks buzzing against your frayed nerves.

but your walls clung on him ever tight, like a set of skin-forming clothing, hand tailored and fitting like a vice. enveloped by your skin, childe could notice your pulse down there and you cry out his name when he thrusts into you at the same time, wrapping his giant hands around your entire hip area to lift you off the mattress, so he could use you as a cock sleeve, his own, sweet and pretty and wet fucking cock sleeve.

his cocks hit in and out of your holes at the same time, they're warm and splitting you apart, as if having a heart beat on their own which continuously shuddered and rippled around your entire figure, your skin burning from inside out, holes leaking with both childe's pre cum and your gooey slick. but the man sighs, a nagging pain finally lifted off his shoulders as he leans against your back with his entire weight, caging you in between the mattress and his strong, broad chest.

you expand your lungs, drawing in quick, hefty breaths as you moan into the smudged pillow under you, thoroughly messed up with tears of euphoria and your saliva which couldn't stop dribbling down your chin. cross eyed, while fucking yourself back into him, his rhythm was never more than slow and deep, it's perfect and whenever both cocks contracted into you entirely, you felt them press overtly against the gateways of your pleasure spots.

your hold on him was tight, both holes used and prickling with a fire like sensation, sensual drags of his cocks piercing you into oblivion, inflicting bliss on you which you never experienced to that extent. he's ruthless, head thrown back and smacking his hips into you, pheromones and filth invading the humane air of the warm room. it's so filthy, you are, or that's what crossed your mind, but fuck it feels good, more than a little, it's like crossing out every small detail on your to do list, tackling all the small places and filling them to the brim.

swiftly, you move your hand to reach back behind him, locking your digits into his soft locks when childe began to nibble and suck on your neck. at the sensation of his rough, skilled laps of his tongue, you hiss when his sharp, pointy teeth dig into the delicate skin, hard enough to draw out the blood he so desperately craved to taste. in a sense, it's as if it broadened his lifespan, vitalized his endurance and replenished his stamina, "aah—" you cry out into the pillow, almost ashamed by how good it feels, mustering enough strength to grab a fistful of his hair to drag him into you, closer, more sufficient, his hips still working wonders on both entrances.

you're soiling him entirely and you can feel how your gummy slick and his warm, thick cum ooze down your thighs as childe moans into your neck, repeatedly, sucking the warm blood out of you, snapping his cocks in and out and acting feral, your spine arched up, ass perked and lifted so he could pound perfectly and fuck into you.

voiceless cries with a dry throat, inarticulate whispers of his name, your mouth opens and closes soundlessly. you're gone, too gone, hypnotized by the pleasure he was bestowing on you.

this next thrust was especially lucky in your eyes, and you cough up a broken moan when he hits your spots just right. you're rolling your hips back against the intrusion, desperate, full of need, face fallen and a mess. it was hot and wet, you could sense the boiling coil in your stomach, how it wouldn't be long until you'd release around him, and so did childe, feel himself become undone soon.

"just a bit more.." he's breathless, the smacking sounds of your ass against his hips fueling his desire to make you cum together, to have you drenched and filled up with his seed, both holes stuffed full and ready to go for another round, that's a new dream he had been playing in his head on auto repeat right now.

"fuck—" you scream, "fuck, baby! so close—!" and suddenly taste the intrusion in your belly, it's so warm and heavy, spilling, prodding, consuming, mind numbing you, knowing full on well nothing more could ever satisfy you as good as he did. the thick spurts of cum gush into your stomach so heavily it almost hurts, there was so much of it you feared to explode.

yet you come undone the same time as he did, violently arching your back as he wraps his arms around your sticky chest, the brush over your stiff nipples making you whine and tremble. he lifts you off the bed to harshly fuck the last bit into you, he wants you to have it all, until his balls were properly emptied out and dried up, but your holes adequately jammed and crowded.

your used, vibration numbed nerves and muscles come back to life and you collapse back on the bed, you taste salt and sweat on your lips before turning around to face your lover sitting back, barely out of breath, unlike you.

ajax pleasingly hums to himself, "you're mine." pulling himself against you, "you're mine forever." before sealing your bodies as you blink up to him with large, glowing eyes. you try not to notice his smile too much, yet all his reactions weren't a surprise.

in the end, he had won you over, he thinks to himself, kneading the soreness off your body, splashing his large thigh between your wobbly legs, deciding to rub it against your core to catch a reactions, making you realize that he wasn't done yet. 

beyond further questioning, it was the middle of the night.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#childe smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact childe smut #tw monsterfucking #tw blood #tw dark content #tw size difference #tw size kink

[skekilla]

https://www.deviantart.com/skekilla/art/Runaway-Train-Act-II-Scene-6-925618667

Six people had been a lot to ask of the dinghy already. Ten or so more demons? Why, they were barely still afloat.

With the waves, the rain, the rambunctious stow-aways, and the panic they had caused, the whole thing was shaking like all Hell was in a riot below. Memories of being back home in California surfaced in Johnny’s mind; but there’s never been an earthquake quite like this! he thought back at himself. Certainly not one this dangerous! After all, not only was there the danger of being flung out into the water (where his prosthetics would be about as useful as cinder blocks in keeping his head above water), but there was also the crowd of shadowy creatures hissing and screeching in their faces. He and the others in the dinghy all scrambled as far away from them as possible, but there were two things complicating that: the kicking and tossing of the boat and the wet wood beneath them. Altogether, they were sent sliding and jerking around. Everybody was crashing into everybody. Demons fell as they tried to strike, people clung on for dear life—it seemed the real fight was against the sea itself, and it wasn’t picking sides.

Despite everything, Curtis persisted in his battle against the water. He was knocked side to side by the force of the boat rocking, and still he rowed. Suddenly, the dinghy plunged down a newly formed slope in the water; he slammed forward against the ores with a shout. He came up from the impact angrier than ever, drawing a furious breath in from between his teeth (whether they were gritted in pain or effort or both, no one could tell). “Get those demons off the FUCKING BOAT!” he yelled, loud enough to be heard over the screaming wind and crashing waves. The raging determination in his face scared Johnny out of his skin, even more than the swarming demons did.

Though he himself was momentarily stunned by fear, it seemed Orla didn’t need to be told twice; without delay, she began flinging and kicking the creatures off the side of the boat. With each one down was an accompanying flourish, as usual when she fought. However, this didn’t really work at sea; her own balance remained strong, but the whole display only spelt disaster for the passengers in the boat. With every step she took, the vessel dipped wildly down, rearing back up as she leaped away. Somehow, she had doubled the amount of tipping the dinghy underwent.

“I THINK I’M GONNA TO BE SEASICK!” Sally cried from somewhere in the chaos.

Though he sympathized with the singer in her distress, Johnny had managed to snap out of his shock and into action. He fished his pistol out of his pocket, cramming some of the bullets he’d been given into the cylinder. In just a few quick motions, he snapped it back in and cocked the gun. Even with his deadeye aim, this was tricky. It was hard enough to hit them, let alone non-fatally; he tried as best he could to shoot the things in their shoulders or sides so as to just make them useless in the fight, but he could only do so well. Even worse, most fell off into the ocean afterward anyways; it was practically futile to try to spare them. A part of him went down with each one of them, but he forced his guilt to the back of his mind for now. Come on… just shoot. You’re doing it to survive.

Another difficulty was suddenly added on top of these conditions (which seemed impossible, and yet it had happened); Johnny found his shooting arm restrained by something or someone. Panicked, he twisted his head around to see what it was, meeting Anne’s wide eyes when he did. “H-hey, let go!” he squeaked.

She didn’t, though; she held on even tighter, trying to force his aim downward, away from firing at the creatures. “Stop, stop! Mister, you can’t hurt the demons!” she cried. “They’re nice! Please, mister!” Her little cheeks were bright red, and her hands were hot to the touch; it was clear she was really very upset. On the verge of a temper tantrum, even.

“T-they’re trying to hurt us! That’s not very nice,” Johnny protested, both trying to loose his arm from her surprisingly strong grip and be gentle as he did.

“But mister—!” Another jolt of the dinghy cut her off, sending all in it flying out of their seats for a terrifying moment. Johnny screamed as he was almost thrown into the water along with the little girl, who still held his arm in a vice grip. All that saved him from certain death was the bumping of his prosthetic elbow against the edge of the boat. Sea spray splashed in his face, making his eyes sting, but he couldn’t close them. Not when he was this close to danger.

“DON’T ROCK THE FUCKING BOAT!” Curtis roared. The demons shrieked. Thunder clapped. The waves threw themselves against the old wood sides of the dinghy. The whole world was swinging, an irate cacophony.

Tears gushed out of Anne’s eyes. A strange tint lit them as her sunny face twisted like clouds gathering for a massive storm. It had never occured to Johnny just how red her eyes were until that moment; now that they were flashing in rage, it all suddenly dawned on him just how odd this child was. The talk of sacrifices, of souls, the love of demons, and now her eyes—Johnny’s own eyes widened in a realization of dread. He knew then that whatever was coming next was going to be terrifying. “STOOOOP!!” she wailed.

Something seized Johnny. A force, stronger than any he’d ever experienced, seemed to freeze him in place. It wasn’t dread or fear; he knew what that was like, and it certainly wasn’t that. No, it was something outside of him. Something taking a strangle-hold on his very soul. Though he hadn’t moved at all, he suddenly found himself looking up at the stormy sky, eyes and mouth open wide. All was quiet and still. There was nothing he could do. There wasn’t even anything he could feel. He wasn’t sure if he was even breathing. It was like he was trapped in his own body. It was like he was dead.

#runaway train #art #original story #train #vintage #story #novel #illustrated book #illustrated novel #book #act II #skekilla

[ardenssolis]

@nvrcmplt said (inbox):

Commotion at the sea front again, ships stalling from the creature that was afloat in the surface - gazing deep into the crowd as nostrils flare and fins shimmer with the sun's seven lights. Throwing head back to bay with true volume, rattling some items to the point of near falling off their surfaces with clattering lids. It was a clear sign of odd, but the reasoning was even more visible. Around it's neck, frontal limbs and piercing through its tail - were the netting of fisherman tools. Nostrils flare yet again, scrapping what little movement their frontal limbs could do to churn sands and foam, baring fanged jowls, to the shock of the people approaching still - as its golden blood shimmered in the sea.

The old man on the boat, who believed it once more was a sign of the heavens. "Call the Pharaoh, alert him as quickly as you can." When the crowd questioned it, they soon understood. "That beast is of royalty - we are not to touch such a being - so hurry, the Pharaoh will understand."

     IT WAS UNCOMMON FOR Ramses to be disturbed due to a commotion among the common folk. Normally they went to the guards and then from there, they handled most issues. Even the Medjay may be called upon under certain circumstances, but certainly not him. He, after all, had other duties he attended to that required his attention. However, upon being told that the beast in question that had been captured might have been of divine quality, he understood at once why the fishermen had deemed to have this message relayed to him personally. Thus, sparing not even a second, he had quickly made his way to the location that mysterious creature had been found. Blood the color of gold itself, they said... That alone was what had captured his full attention. What manner of creature could this be...? Nothing in particular came to mind, but then again, he knew nothing of the sea. It was domain that was outside of his control -- vast, and intimidating to one who only knew the flow of rivers. 

     Approaching the area in question, he was glad that the people were wise enough to keep their distance. Approached by the old man who had thought to call upon him, they kept their head bowed as they explained the situation to him. They spoke of how they had believed they had pulled in a large haul of fish, only to have tugged this unknown beast from the sea instead. Fearful that it might have been divine, none dared touch them. ❝So, that is the way of it...❞ Ramses mumbled, saying nothing further aside from praising the old man for his judgement before he made his approach. Whatever this was, it was too unknown to him. He had never seen anything like this before, but the divinity of it was unmistakable. ❝Shh...calm yourself. You will only make your injuries worse.❞ Bending down, he was careful as he placed his hand upon the creature's side, his touch meant to help soothe them and calm their nerves. ❝Forgive these people for harming you. It was not their intent to do so.❞ Golden eyes roved over their form for a time, soon coming to rest where fisherman's netting cut into flesh. This would have to be cut away...

     He could think of no other way to remove it.

     Tugging the small jeweled dagger he kept by his side, he made quick work of that net, careful as he could be in how he cut it loose from limbs and tail. ❝There. That should feel much better.❞ Placing his hand upon their side again, he offered gentle strokes against their hide before pulling his hand away. These injuries were not too bad, although no doubt they certainly hurt. He would have them moved back into the sea where they belonged and let nature take its course with the healing as there was not much he could have done in that regard. Whether they continued to linger in these waters or not, the fishermen here would certainly be far more alert now, afraid that they might earn the wrath of some god without meaning to.

#nvrcmplt #;v: gods walk among us #answered #;;inbox #;post: beta

[eviesessays]

31. Who inspires you?

Everybody and many things inspire me.  My problem at this age is my nearly impossible power to do anything about that inspiration.  

In the Spring when I was 12 years old, I had my appendix removed which in those days meant ether as an anesthetic and a week in hospital.  I can still experience nausea at the very thought of ether.  However the experience of being cared for by nurses was likely an experience that impacted the rest of my life.  I was always allowed to remove wood splinters from my Dad’s hands when I was very little and not very adept.  I liked hearing my Dad call me his nurse but after my appendectomy the mold was cast.  My destiny was  determined.

At my 40th high school class reunion we all agreed without exception, that our favorite teacher was Miss Gillis.  She was a matronly woman of maybe 50 years who always had her hair done neatly.  She was an inspiration to all of us.  And she was certain we could all love Shakespeare and despite all evidence  to the contrary she was sure we could all go on to higher education.  She was right in  most cases.

When my granddaughter, Anne was in third grade she wrote a Greek play which in itself was quite remarkable.  She called me one evening to ask if I could make her costumes as her play was going to be performed for her school.  The play was two days hence.  Luckily, both men and women of Greece at that time wore chitons.  These were short robes tied at the waist with rope.  That was easy enough.  Anne was the narrator and had a crown and her mother’s jewelry. The play was a success and made the Newburyport newspaper’s front page.  How could I not be inspired.

I lived on my farm in Warner for 22 years.  It was a beautiful place tucked in a valley in the Mink Hills. It also had a swimming pool and my grandchildren spent time there with me during their summer vacation.  On one such occasion they came pool ready. They were wearing their swimsuits and 

carrying colorful pieces of foam called noodles.  I asked if they really held them above water or how many noodles would be needed to keep me afloat.  Merton suggested I might need 17 noodles.  Anne immediately came to my defense chiding Merton for implying I was heavier than I ought to be.  I assured both that there was no harm done and it would be our secret.  I could tell them I stuck to my diet by announcing I lost a noodle or two.  My grandchildren have all inspired me to be a better person as each of them certainly are such.

My friend, David inspires me.  He has a hereditary eye condition that never seemed to limit him.  He graduated from Harvard and went on to Medical School. He is now chief of staff in Neuro Oncology in a very large teaching hospital.  Years before when he was taking a gap year deciding to go into law or medicine, we worked together.  One weekend we went up to Cranmore, NH to watch the US tennis open.  We saw Michael Chang play.  I don’t know how much of the match David actually saw but it was a well spent and inspiring day.  

It is my brother, Kip who inspires me to this day.  He has been gone for more than 15 years now but remains vivid in my memory.  We share the dubious distinction of having hereditary, congenital anomalies.  He had Epstein’s disease and was actually missing a large portion of his right atrium.  i have a ventricular hypertrophy that inhibits the closing of the mitral valve.  My problem was not diagnosed until I was in my 70’s.  Kip’s was evident at birth and my parents were cautioned not to send him to school fearing it would be too taxing.  He graduated from high school and went on to have a successful career with the Imperial Bank.  I  am now experiencing the shortness of breath that Kip knew from birth.  I can now relate to the admission Kip made to me two months before he died.  He without rancor, but as a matter of fact, said he did not wish to just be here taking up space and using up Oxygen.  I now know of what he spoke.  He will inspire me to the end.

[merakiui]

Apricity

yandere!albedo x (gender neutral) reader art credit - miHoYo cw: nsfw elements, yandere, captivity/restraints, unhealthy behaviors note - please come home to me and take care on the journey, albedo! :D also kindly heed the warnings. thank you!

His eyes are unnaturally pretty. Like twin crystals glittering in an expansive, dismal cave, searching for secrets unheard of within Mondstadt. Somehow you’re always in his peripheral, not too close and yet impossibly far at the same time. The distance is harrowing, terribly so, and Albedo knows it should be nothing short of a coincidence. When he shows up at your quaint stall with Sucrose, claiming to be in need of the exact wares you happen to sell, you pay it no mind. After all, you’ve met your fair share of regulars, and their support is what keeps you afloat. 

But there is more to those beautiful irises than he lets on. Whether it’s intentional or not, you can’t exactly say. You suppose you would rather run into someone as well-respected as Albedo as opposed to an unlikable stranger with ill intent. And it’s always great to see a familiar face, especially when he chooses to peruse your stall rather the others around you. It isn’t all that strange; you’ve even become friends with Sucrose during your short interactions. Albedo has indulged in stiff conversations with you before, but most of them were meaningless. Simple throwaway chatter between two acquaintances. 

Oddly enough, Albedo finds himself wanting more. He doesn’t want to talk about the weather or the transitioning seasons; he wants to listen to you explain how your day was and if you made more profit than the day before that. He wants to stand there and immerse himself in your pleasant voice, ignorant to the hustle and bustle of the people around him. And yet he just can’t. For a variety of reasons that pull him out of the haze of intrigue, you’ll always remain in the background. And he simply can’t bear the thought of that.

It’s rude to deteriorate a relationship that’s only just begun to blossom. If your meager acquaintanceship with him were to wither away into dust, he would feel obligated to keep it going—as if he were simply beating a dead cow with a stick. Although your hobbies differ from his, it’s nothing he can’t handle. A genius must familiarize himself with other areas of study if he intends to craft solutions that are outside of the box.

“Albedo?” 

Your tone is meek and small, tinged with the slightest shiver. Part of him feels bad for lying to you, but you were just so trusting. It’s almost comical how easily you fell into his trap. If he gets to see you in such a delicious way all the time, he’s more than willing to forsake the truth to meet his own desires. A selfish wish, yes, but it’s absolutely wonderful.

“What is it?” 

He eyes you from his spot behind the easel, and even though you can’t see him you can feel his piercing gaze. Like the sun shining brightly in a wintry afternoon, his eyes smolder with unbearable heat and yet his expression is cold with brilliant focus. 

“A-Are you almost done? It’s really cold.” Your bare back touches the wall and you flinch, an instinctual response that makes Albedo’s brow quirk. “And this is sort of...weird.”

“How so?” 

He says that in such a dismissive manner, acting as if your current position isn’t compromising. As if this was a normal exchange between friendly strangers. You have trouble finding your voice in this situation, especially since talking seems like such a chore. You’re worried you’ll say the wrong thing and then it’ll leave a false imprint of who you are on Albedo. But you’ve always been nice, unable to refuse those who are kind in return, and so you’re forced to endure the discomfort that comes with modeling nude for this peculiar alchemist. 

“Think about it.” You distract yourself with a ramble of an explanation—certainly more than what’s necessary, but Albedo doesn’t mind. He finds solace in your voice. “You’re looking at me and I’m...n-naked. And we don’t really know each other. I’m not trying to vilify you when I say this, but I don’t want you to do anything bad to me. N-Not that you would! It’s just—this is really weird. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Hm.”

“And do I have to be tied up like this?” You shuffle in your bindings, fingers scrabbling over the cuffs and chains that jingle like horrible sleigh bells. 

“You were moving too much earlier. I won’t be able to get your anatomy right if you’re constantly fidgeting.”

But it’s uncomfortable, you think, chewing on your lip out of habit.

“I guess I understand. It must be an artist thing, right?”

“You could say that.”

His work on the canvas offers a display that’s just as lewd as the real model, down to the way your nipples perk and harden in the cold. He’s not even close to finishing and that’s a blessing in itself. He could stare at your figure for hours on end, committing every inch of your flesh to memory, and he wouldn’t grow weary. 

“Do artists normally blindfold their models? I don’t really know anything about this stuff, but it’s okay if it helps with the process.”

“I find it to be interesting,” he answers, simple and vague as ever. “It adds a mysterious touch to the finished piece.”

“So you draw the model with the blindfold?” You’re used to gazing upon paintings of flowers and portraits of influential historical figures rather than blatant nudity. “Artists are definitely unique.”

Albedo hums in response, secretly reveling in your naïveté. At the end of the day, you’re just a normal citizen of Mondstadt, who stands behind a wooden stall every single day and happily chats with potential customers. You excel in business, but when it comes to the inner workings of art you’re at a loss. And that makes it all the more easier for Albedo to spin all sorts of wild tales. He fears that gullible nature will harm you in the future, yet there isn’t a threat in sight. Not when you’re here in front of him, no longer confined to his peripheral. And you’ll stay there for however long it takes him to finish this painting. 

It’s a twisted infatuation. Albedo knows he shouldn’t take too much of your time or else he’ll become addicted and it will be impossible to focus on his studies. But he can’t stop himself or his wandering gaze, which trails up your midriff. Higher and higher until he’s staring at your face, eyes obscured behind the soft fabric of a blindfold. Your body is a temple he wishes to worship, and perhaps that’s a sacrilegious thought that ought to have him consider the weight of his emotions. 

And yet you’re far too irresistible. His thoughts are dangerously potent, swirling within his brain like a maddening hurricane. Surely your missing presence in the market won’t be questioned if he were to keep you just a little longer. Longer than the boundaries of sanity will allow, that is. There are other vendors who sell the same things you boast; the economy won’t shatter if you’re not there to provide.

The paintbrush moves along the canvas in even strokes and suddenly Albedo’s mind is wandering between subjects. From art to alchemy, love to lust, and the wondrous crevices in your anatomy that call out to him. The brush stills in his hand. If he’s not mistaken, Sucrose will be stopping by to assist him and the last thing he needs is staining his appearance in a suspicious color. 

“Albedo?” His name rolls off of your tongue in such a delectable way; it’s almost sinful how his thoughts race and race in an endless track. “Are you almost done? My back is sore and the floor’s really uncomfortable.”

“Sorry. This will take longer than I thought.” He sets his brush and palette down, and you listen to his footsteps as they draw near. “Something has come up, but I promise I won’t be long.” 

“Wait. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I need to get back to the marketplace!”

Before you know what’s happening, the blindfold is coming off and you’re locking eyes with Albedo, who peers at you with intense scrutiny. Certainly the look of a genius studying a textbook. You grow flustered all at once, just now coming to terms with the fact that he looked at your body for longer than you’d like to admit. Shyly, you shut your legs to obscure your private parts, but it’s not like that will help the embarrassment that claws its way onto your expression like a persistent beast. 

“You’re better off waiting here.” He shrugs off his coat, draping it over your shoulders as if that’ll keep the dreadful chill away. “As much as I would like to finish this now, I have other work that must be taken care of.”

“I get that, but you can’t just leave me here! That’s practically kidnapping!” you protest, hoping he’ll heed the desperation in your trembling vocals. “At least, that’s what this feels like.”

“I wouldn’t kidnap you,” he says, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You’re too funny.”

Yet he isn’t laughing and neither are you as you helplessly watch him depart. The floor is too cold for your liking and the idea of entrapment settles under your skin like a million maggots feasting on a decaying, chilled copse. Devoid of warmth and carrying an air of measured grace, Albedo doesn’t spare you another glance.

He doesn’t need to. He’ll have all the time in the world to study your body like it’s the finest artwork, and you’ll be powerless to object.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #yandere albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo x reader #yandere genshin impact albedo #yandere albedo #albedo #genshin impact fanfic #he's so handsome :0 #in writing this i hope it will bless me with luck

[fanmoose12]

Levihan Week 2021

Day two: Confessions

Summary: Confessions are to be made in the right place, in the right time.

"Confessions are to be made in the right place, in the right time."

It was an advice that Erwin once gave him, during one of the rare instances when the late Commander allowed himself to shrug off his heavy duty and act like a normal human.

Back then, Levi didn't understand the meaning of his words, didn't realize how this philosophical remark could be related to his question about “that red-haired lady that visited our barracks with Dawk today”.

But time went on, and the words refused to leave Levi's mind. Watching his fellow scouts, his friends and subordinates, he couldn't help but remember Erwin's wisdom.

Confessions are to be made in the right place, in the right time

The more Levi thought about it, the more he started to believe that it was a universal truth. Blurt out the wrong thing to the wrong person or in the wrong time, and you create a misunderstanding, tension or even a conflict.

Blurt out the right thing to the right person but in the wrong time, and you can very well destroy the relationship that was so treasured.

Levi saw examples of this everywhere - drunken soldiers slurring the admission of their love to their equally drunken comrades, heavily injured soldiers whispering the words of love on the verge of death, forever breaking the heart of the subject of their affections, angry and tired soldiers screaming out those dangerous three little words in the moments of frustration and resentment.

Love made people stupid, it made people reckless. It was dangerous and unwelcome in their line of work. He couldn't allow his heart to grow attached to someone else, couldn't let his eyes wander in the search of them during battles, couldn't let someone else's voice and laugh distract him from his duties.

Levi scoffed at the soldiers who waxed poetic about love, he rolled his eyes at the displays of affection, he pitied the fools who dedicated their hearts not to the indestructible idea of humanity and its future, but to a single, mortal person.

And then, out of nowhere, in the midst of battles, losses and rare moments of peace, he himself became that very same fool. During battles, his eyes searched for the shrieking idiot, his heartbeat slowing down only after he saw them alive and well. During late evenings and sleepless nights, he sat in the stuffy, dusty laboratory, listening to unending ramblings about titans, the outside world and the hopes of bright future.

He was more focused with them by his side. He slept better when they were curled up around him. Even his food was more delicious when they shared it with him, shamelessly stealing bits of his dinner.

It wasn't love, Levi had tried to assure himself. Love was dangerous and stupid, love was making people weak. But this— this bond, this comradery, this friendship, it wasn't making him weak. It was making him stronger, it was making him fight even harder, to ensure that this hell would end with both of them still alive. This bond, it was making him feel so... happy.

Love made people do stupid things when their other half was injured or in danger. But Levi's person, they were strong. Almost as skilled as was he, and twice as smart.

On the battlefield, they were quick and graceful, invisible, they did not make him worried. Whatever danger they were facing, they always managed to defeat it.

But then, then Kenny came back into his life and then they went after him straight into that fucking cave, and Levi's heart had stopped, it almost crushed when he heard their scream and saw them fall.

And blood, there was so much blood on their shirt, in front of his eyes. And that's when Levi realized - he became attached, he fell in love.

Confessions are to be made in the right place, in the right time

It was the first time he remembered these words in a very long time. He thought he would never need this advice. But that night, when they returned from that cave, when Levi stayed by their side, watching them hiss and wince as doctors bandaged their injured shoulder, he almost blurted it all out. Scared out of his mind, he wanted to grab their face and scream at them how he almost lost his shit during the fight, how even the thought of losing them was making him absolutely terrified. He wanted to press their forehead against his and whisper, so quietly than only two of them would hear, how much he loved them.

But they had a battle waiting for them first thing in the morning. Both of them were exhausted, both of them had too much on their minds. It wasn't the right time and it wasn’t the right place.

So he simply gripped their healthy hand and said, "You looked like a fucking amateur back there, four-eyes. Try to focus next time, alright?"

The answering laughter was quiet, but cheerful. It mended Levi's heart.

Then there was Shiganshina, and Levi's previous fears started to look like an overreaction. He thought he was afraid before, he thought he was close to losing them before, but last time, he could at least see them twitch and groan out in pain, he was somewhat comforted by the knowledge that there were people looking over them.

But now, now, there was no one. There was an explosion, a big, thundering explosion, and after it, there was nothing, nothing at all.

And Levi— Levi couldn't go there and check if someone was still alive. He couldn't even stop and make sense of what he was feeling. Everything was moving too quickly, and he could only follow that swift flow, trying his best not to get drown in it.

And, as he continued moving, never faltering, his eyes were wet - with sweat, with blood, with tears - Levi couldn't spare a second to wipe all of it. He could only continue marching forward.

Confessions are to be made in the right place, in the right time

It wasn't the right place, certainly not the right time, but his desperate, relieved "Hange!" could probably count as a confession. It certainly disclosed the feelings that otherwise he would never let out.

But the current kept moving forward, and both of them were struggling to keep their head afloat. There was no time for words of love, no time for being stupid and reckless.

After the utter disaster that was Shiganshina, they returned home, and the place was right, but the time wasn't, as both of them were still dealing with the losses they've endured. Dumping even more revelations onto them seemed unwise, cruel even, so Levi stayed silent, remained at their side, loyal and faithful.

When they finally arrived at the sea, it seemed like the place was right, and the time was right. And as Hange dragged him from one end of the beach to the other, shoving seashell after seashell into his face, Levi even prepared a romantic, touching speech, the kind of soft confession that his love deserved. Something along the lines, "you're more precious than the sea in front of me".

But that peaceful day was over before he could master the courage to let the truth out in the open.

And after that, after that, the time and the place were never quite right. He could not confess in the midst of thousands official meetings, strategy planning and war councils. He couldn't confess when they had to meet with the Marley volunteers, he couldn't confess when they went to explore Marley itself.

He couldn't confess before they went to retrieve Eren's stupid ass. Although, he wanted to, desperately so. But when he grabbed their shoulder before they boarded the airship, he could only tell them, "Don't die. I'd hate to be in charge of this circus."

He didn't know if his true meaning was clear enough, if his voice was tight enough to translate his curt words into their intended point.

Don't leave me alone. I don't know if I can do this without you.

It only went downhill from that. He had no time to speak with them after they came home, he had no time before he went to the forest with Zeke, the place and the time just weren't right.

When Zeke had escaped, when the explosion had almost killed him, Levi thought that he had lost his chance. He had hesitated for too long, and the moment was lost forever. But the explosion didn't kill him, Hange saved him.

And this time, the place was right, it was perfect, a quiet, dark forest where nothing and no one could get to them.

Maybe, the two of us just should live here together. Right, Levi?

He wanted to say yes, wanted to scream "let's leave this fucking hell behind and grow old together". He wanted bury his face in their neck and whisper "I love you, more than anything".

But he didn't.

The place was right, but the time wasn't.

The place, the time, they were never right.

After they got out of the forest, things were spending up and up, leaving Levi behind and unable to catch up. He was always at the back, watching but not doing anything, too weak to even talk. And they were at the front, leading everyone towards their noble goal.

As he watched them move forward, leaving him to fight the Yeagerists, discussing plans with their allies, as he watched them slip through his fingers like a morning fog, those words were at the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out.

But Hange never stopped, they had no time to hear him out.

And then, Hange finally stopped. Then they decided to become the one that was going to be left behind. And in the process, they left behind Levi.

He thought about it so much, for so long, he was carrying these feelings for almost a decade. But he never figured out just what words to use to explain the matters of his heart.

Confessions are to be made in the right place, in the right time

He was so focused on these words that he forgot about the most important thing. Confession had to be done right as well. But he had no time to ponder and search his mind for the fitting words. He had no time, Hange had no time, and in that last moment, when his heart was breaking and his mind kept chanting "please, don't leave me, not you, please, not you", the only thing he could get out was, "Dedicate your heart."

The confession was clumsy, too roundabout, but his feelings probably were clear enough. He hoped so, at least.

Before they went, before they left him alone, Levi wanted them to know, wanted them to remember just how loved they were.

As he sat in that plane, his mind going crazy with grief, he remembered the words spoken to him in the middle of the night, by a man who refused to feel the pain of loss, who shut himself away from affection and love.

Confessions are to be made in the right place, in the right time

Perhaps, Erwin was wrong in that regard, Levi realized. Perhaps, there was no such thing as right place and right time. There could only be right person.

And Levi had just lost his.

#something-something about #hesitate and you'll miss your timing #also! almost no dialogues in this one i'm kinda proud of myself #lhw2021 #levihanweek2021 #levihan

[aminiatureworld]

Melusine

Characters: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,221

Warnings: Brief depiction of pseudo-drowning

Premise: In which the reader’s somewhat inexplicable fear of water prompts questioning

Author’s Note: This prompt reminded me of the book (and series) The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which, if you haven’t read at least the first book, you totally should read as it’s just really a wonderful read. The descriptions of the ocean are especially atmospheric. Anyways, as for the prompt, I had a lot of fun. I tried to write a mermaid story in middle school and while it didn’t go that well I have a lot of nostalgia for the mermaid genre. Though this was more about the discovery than actually being a mermaid.

Also the title is a pseudo-historical reference.

Albedo

The first time it had happened Albedo had brushed off the whole incident as completely explainable. After all, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t explained what had happened.

You two had been sitting on one of the craggy hills of the Whispering Woods, you sprawled on the grass, Albedo attempting to paint a landscape of Mondstadt, one of the more ambitious paintings in his current portfolio. Especially since he had traded his more opaque oils for the gentler tones of watercolors. At one point he must have made some sort of noise of frustration, for you lifted yourself out of the shade and made your way over to the canvas.

“That looks absolutely lovely Albedo!” Your smile had always had a calming affect on the alchemist, and this time was no different. Albedo could feel the tension slowly leeching away from his shoulders.

“Do you think so? I’m afraid that I still can’t handle all the odd shadows the buildings cast.”

“The buildings look perfect to me! Though if you feel that way, maybe you could lighten the side facing the sun a little more instead of darkening the area over here? So the shade doesn’t become too muddy.”

“You have a wonderful eye, you know,” Albedo replied, smiling at the way your mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had drawn as well. Reaching for the bowl of water next to him Albedo went to water his brush a little more before trying again.

Unfortunately that’s when things appeared to have taken a turn for the wrong. Instead of reaching over the bowl Albedo’s elbow collided with the glass. Though the grass was soft and close enough to prevent any damage, that didn’t stop all the muddied water from spilling out over the brim and right over you. You let out a sort of squeak, and for a moment Albedo though it was just the initial shock, but then the expression on your face came into view and Albedo could immediately sense you were seconds away from panic.

“Is something wrong?”

“I, I don’t like water very much,” you let out a strained laugh. “I just, I don’t know. I really, really don’t like water.”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo immediately replied.

Taking off his coat he did his best to dry you off, wiping off your arms and attempting a valiant effort with your now sopping clothes. Though you assured him that it would be alright the alchemist could sense those were only platitudes, and it wasn’t until you seemed significantly calmer that Albedo turned to pick up the bowl and refill it in Cider Lake. And though a part of his mind wished to delve deeper into what had happened he pulled himself back, figuring it wouldn’t help you if he was suddenly enquiring over something you were afraid of.

Now perhaps that should have been the long and the short of it, but the revelation had begun to make Albedo see water everywhere and, more importantly, see how much it appeared to affect you every time you appeared to come in close contact with it.

Thankfully you didn’t seem to have trouble with water in glasses, at least as long as someone was actively drinking it. If not however you would glance at the glass every so often, as if it were your mortal enemy, waiting to catch you off guard to it might tip its contents all over your clothes. Other things, like obsessively drying your wands after washing them and draping layers of towels over your shoulders when you washed your hair, also became apparent. Suddenly Albedo couldn’t stop noticing your discomfort, and the more he noticed the more he wished he could do something about it.

“Exposure therapy?”

“Yes.”

You were sitting on Albedo’s desk, leaning slightly over your partner, a slightly bemused look on your face. It had been about three weeks since the incident, and finally Albedo thought he might have found some sort of solution to your problem. Now he eagerly pressed forward, figuring you’d understand once he’d explained everything fully.

“I know that it might seem counterproductive to subject you to what gets a frightened reaction out of you, but if you subject a person to something they’re afraid of in very small doses over a long period of time, usually they begin to feel a little less afraid of the thing in question. It’s sort of like how you can sometimes make allergies less serious by slowly exposing the patient to more and more of the allergen.”

“I understand where your line of thought is coming from Albedo, but I’m really not sure if this is the best idea for me.”

“I know that it might seem daunting at first. I would not bring up the topic if you didn’t seem so miserable sometimes. I worry that you might become so unhappy by your fear that it will become debilitating eventually. That is why I decided to bring up the option.”

“I really appreciate you going out of your way to think about me Albedo. I really do. I think what you’re trying to do is very kind and noble of you. But in all honesty I don’t think that’s going to work. You see, the way my fear works, I just don’t think that exposure is going to make it go away.”

“Are you sure?” Albedo pressed on, still hoping that you might see the benefit in what he was suggesting. “It won’t start with something drastic I promise. And at the end of the day, I think that it will help a lot.”

“I understand that, I really do, but like I said my fear doesn’t work that way.” You paused, as if sensing the sinking of your partner’s heart, before smiling slightly. “If it makes you feel any better I promise to give it some more thought. Alright?”

“Thank you,” Albedo replied, though in his mind he knew that you thinking about it probably wouldn’t change anything.

Thus the cycle continued, with Albedo growing more and more uneasy. He didn’t bring it up with you again, sensing it would be walking over some invisible line, but still his mind whirled in trying to understand what you meant. If your fear wasn’t simply irrational, then surely something must have happened once. Though the alchemist didn’t pry, surely if you wanted him to know you would tell him in your own time, he had to admit that sometimes his brain went off on various daydreams, as if trying to decide for itself what might have happened.

As it turned out, Albedo didn’t have to speculate for long. Nor did the truth come out the way that he had expected.

You two were on the very small dock at Cider Lake, checking the rafts were tied down properly before the beginning of the stormy season that wreaked havoc through Mondstadt once every year. Though normally you probably would have never done such a thing the Guild was spread thin, preparing for storms, though not nearly as fierce as Dvalin’s winds, that would blow shingles off roofs and destabilize the occasional out of place rock on the wall. As of such the task of shielding the boats used to carry supplies from the City to the larger Mondstadt region had fallen to you. Albedo had tagged along, knowing how uncomfortable the experience might make you feel, and unwilling to leave you alone in a state of anxiety.

“These remaining boats are the ones we need to tie down. They’re too big to be stored in the sheds inside the City.”

“I see,” Albedo replied, already moving to nail the tarp down on one of them as you secured the roping. Already the air seemed alive with the fresh smell of impending rain.

“It’s too bad really, we can’t guarantee these boats’ safety the way we can the others. Thankfully these ones are mostly insured by the Knights. Though really maybe we should build a larger shed,” you mused to yourself, keeping up the tell-tale stream of conversation that Albedo knew you used to distract yourself.

“Perhaps you can make a query via the Guild?”

“Perhaps,” you mused. “Or I might be able to ask Amber.”

Albedo replied that would be a good idea, turning to put another temporary nail onto the top of the longboat. All seemed alright for a moment, then there was a shriek and a terrific splashing sound. Whirling around Albedo had just enough time to find your head in the water before you seemed to seize up and your head dipped below the still crystal-clear waves.

Immediately Albedo stripped himself of his coat and dove in. Though no amazing swimmer himself the alchemist was hardly the worst at staying afloat, and even if he only knew a select few amount of swim strokes that paled in comparison to the idea of you drowning. Making his way over to you he fought the panic rising up inside of him, the part of his brain that said it would be much more difficult to rescue someone terrified of water.

However almost as soon as Albedo approached you he noticed that something was distinctly off. Firstly you didn’t seem like you were drowning, in fact you appeared quite graceful in the water, swishing softly back and forth. Secondly the reason for said grace quickly became apparent to Albedo. For in the spot where your legs should have been, indeed in the spot where your legs had been mere moment ago was something long and slightly shimmery and distinctly fish-like.

Letting his mouth fall open Albedo immediately hoisted himself up above the water, choking on the gasp of breath he had found himself taking. What was that, what in all of Teyvat was that? You were half fish. How were you half fish? Did such a thing even exist, for Albedo had certainly never heard of it! Though the alchemist later admitted that in the moment such fantasy creatures as merfolk had completely fallen out of his head, there was something distinctly different than reading about something in a book and seeing it in real life.

Dragging himself onto the shores of Cider Lake, Albedo waited for you to emerge, still breathing heavily from what had just passed. His brain seemed to shut off them, for he found himself with no questions to ask. You were a mermaid, you were simply a mermaid. There was nothing more to do or say about it.

Eventually you joined him on the beach. Albedo watched in an odd sort of fascination as your legs emerged from the scaley fin which your lower body was now made up of. For a moment individual spots of iridescent seemed to remain, but soon your limbs were back to normal, ignoring the fact that you were soaking wet.

“So now you know why I said exposure therapy wouldn’t work out,” you said, letting a grim sort of laugh escape your lips.

“You… you are a… a…”

“A merfolk, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “Not sure why I get stuck with the weird power that is more annoying than good but, you know, oops?”

Albedo could sense your vulnerability, but try as he might he couldn’t get the words to come out of his throat. For a moment he sat there, gasping like a fish, but finally the expression of muted misery on your face wormed its way into his brain and finally Albedo felt as if he had regained some ability to talk.

“I think it’s fascinating.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, really. And not just because this is something I’ve never experienced or seen before. Though it was really surprising, it was also wonderful. As an alchemist you study all the wonders and anomalies of nature, and in doing so you see all these differences aren’t just something to be written down, but they also beautiful. And so I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you replied, though you still seemed uncomfortable. “I just, yeah…”

Reaching over to find your hand in his Albedo squeezed your palm softly. For a moment you did nothing, then, slowly, you leaned your head on Albedo’s shoulder. Letting you stay there Albedo found himself wishing that he could convey all the emotions he felt in that moment to you.

“I know that it can be difficult to talk about things that you’ve kept secret, especially when you feel like they make you stand out in a bad way. But I promise, there is nothing wrong with that. And I hope if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way that I can apologize.”

“Thanks Albedo,” you murmured. “You don’t have to say sorry, but thanks anyways.”

“Always.”

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.”

Albedo planted a soft kiss on your forehead. As the boats sat, woefully forgotten, the two of you basked in each other’s presence. For Albedo a mystery had been solved, and explanation given that, while not necessarily scientific, was certainly satisfactory. Yet at that moment he couldn’t care less about it. All he could think about was how lonely it must have been, and how, if he could help it, you would never feel isolated in your discomfort or in your secret ever again.

#genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #genshin albedo #genshin impact #requested #oneshot #my writing

[giorno-plays-piano]

Promises

Hi dear! As agreed, I’ve changed it to dad’s friend!Bucky <3 Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, age gap, daddy kink, allusion to non-con, death of minor characters.

Words: 3000.

_______________________

Looking at the lonely chocolate muffin laying on the table in front of you, you closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, making a wish: it was your birthday, and you were stuck in some filthy roadside diner with no one but Mr. Barnes by your side.

Bucky. You were ought to call him Bucky, you reminded yourself, opening your eyes and blowing softly on a single candle sitting on the top of your muffin.

It wasn’t his fault you two ended up here - there had been a huge accident on your way back home, a tanker truck exploded into flames in the middle of the highway. In fact, you were lucky you were far away since several drivers and passengers who had the misfortune to be close to the truck had already been declared dead. It was all over the news, most of the people inside diner glued to the old TV hanging on the wall.

Staring at the candle, you carefully pulled it off and dropped it on a cheap white napkin, taking the muffin and eagerly having a bite. Mr. Barn... Bucky watched you from the other side of the table, his coffee already long cold. There was no smile on his face as you quietly said thank you to him, but you barely remembered him smiling at all despite knowing him for several years at the very least. He was your dad’s friend, and he often visited your house to share a beer and watch hockey with your dad late in the evening. Who could imagine it would be Bucky of all people helping you stay afloat.

“What did you wish for?” He asked you, and chuckled grimly at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Apparently, you had to keep it a secret to make your wish come true, but it didn’t matter now.

“To have a family.”

You gulped down a sob and stared at the red table as Bucky reached out to pat your shoulder gently. Both of you knew what you meant, but you had no strength to talk about it again. It was still painful as hell.

“It will get better.” He said quietly as you nodded, wiping away your tears and gulping down your coke. “You need time.”

Yeah, time, that was what everyone around you kept saying as if time could change the fact you were all alone now; as if it could make you forget all that happened and keep the pain away. What could time do? Make you insensitive, unsympathetic, and unable to feel anything at all. All this time could probably do to you, sure.

He bought a couple of ham sandwiches and bottles of coke for the evening and left with you following him closely. The motel room was just as dirty as the diner, but you didn’t expect anything else, preparing to cleaning it up - anyway, there wasn’t much you could do around here. Although there were lots of people stuck here along with you two, you had no wish to go talk to them about the tragedy. You had your own already, and it was enough for you.

“Your uncle looks scary on this photo.” Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you picked it up, reading the message from April, your best friend - your only friend, to be completely honest. “Like he’s straight out of those serial killer documentaries.”

“April, come on."

"what, I'm serious lol"

"Maybe he’s not your sunshine guy, but he’s the only one who stayed with me after all that happened."

"And he is NOT my uncle!”

“sorry girl just wanted to cheer you up”

You smiled at the text, missing Bucky’s gaze as he came closer to you.

“Who’s that?” He asked, and you raised your eyes at him, immediately getting back to your grim state.

“April. She saw the photo I sent her.” Explaining quietly, you tried pretending you were happy, stretching your lips in a thin smile and thinking whether Bucky could feel it. “She’s checking on how we are here.”

“Good.”

With that he left to bathroom, leaving you on your knees scrubbing the floor. He was bad at cleaning - really bad, missing tons of dirty spots to the point it felt like he didn’t clean anything at all. That was why you preferred doing it yourself. Besides, it was him who paid for the room and food despite you trying to share the expenses, so you felt obliged to him.

Bucky certainly wasn’t the most talkative or friendly type, but he still cared about you, supporting you the way he could. Even if he was way older than you, and a part of you still didn’t feel very comfortable around him, Bucky was the only one by your side. He agreed living with you when most of your relatives had little interest in staying even for a few days longer, leaving you all alone. He helped you with all the legal stuff you knew nothing about, never having to deal with these issues before. He gave you a drive to your university campus every morning and called you every time when you were supposed to come home, probably afraid you’d do something to yourself. That was what you thought, at least.

He was a good man. Maybe a little gruff, seemingly unfriendly, intimidating even, but still better then all those who promised to look after you and then vanished.

“I’m going to go for a walk.” Bucky said after leaving bathroom and putting his sneakers on. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

You felt shame bubbling up inside you at his words. He still thought you might be suicidal.

“Of course. I’ll be waiting here.”

With that he nodded and left you alone with a bright pack of Lysol and dirty doormat on the floor. Sighing, you felt relieved, finally staying all by yourself in the grim silence of the room. It wasn’t that bad. You weren’t stuck together somewhere in the desert with no food and shelter. Tomorrow morning you’d be able to return home from that little improvised vacation Bucky organized purely for you, staying in a cabin close to the beautiful lake in the woods. It wasn’t his fault you were spending your birthday like this, scrubbing the floor clean and wiping the dust from shelves and nightstands instead of celebrating somewhere in the club with April, drinking fancy cocktails.

In half an hour you finished the clean up and had a shower, changing into your funny pink pajamas - you knew your looked pathetic in it, considering how old it was, but it was one of the things that made you feel safe. Anyway, Bucky didn’t care about the way you looked, so you simply wore whatever you found comfortable, often looking like a kid who was too big to fit into their old clothes.

“Whatcha doin??” A message popped up on the screen as you checked your phone again.

“Gonna go to sleep, I guess. I didn’t sleep well yesterday again.”

“i have a gooood recipe for a nice 8-hour sleep”

“Really? What’s that?”

Instead of answering you clearly, she sent you a link. To your horror, instead of checking the name first you simply clicked on it and found out April sent you some porno. Groaning, you quickly turned it off, afraid somebody gonna hear it - the walls here were out of paper, you could swear.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” You typed furiously. “Are you mad?”

“come on, what are we, holy virgins?? Ima telling you, this thing works! Just try it, you’ll be sleeping after this in no time!”

“April, even if I’m gonna believe this crap, Bucky just went for a walk. I have no clue when he’s going to come back. Do you really think I’m ready to do this when he’s around?”

“damn girl just don’t put earphones, cover yourself with a blanket and sit facing the door.” You could literally see her rolling her eyes at you. “you’re a grown up, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. When you hear the man coming, just turn it off!”

Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you muted your phone and carefully opened the link again, trying to understand what kind of porno she sent you exactly. Apparently, it was that daddy thing she kept telling you about - you read the name of the video, and your face grew unbearably hot in a second. Damn, this girl had no shame whatsoever.

But maybe she was right: you needed to release some tension that had been building up over the last months. It was quite an innocent way to do it, really, and you’d be careful enough to do it before Bucky came back, finding anything suspicious. You were a human being, after all! There was nothing nasty in what you were going to do, you tried assuring yourself.

“I’m gonna regret it.”

“NO GIRL YOU WON’T! Treat yourself!!”

Laughing, you quickly dropped your phone on your bed, taking a tablet out of your backpack along with a pair of pink socks - you couldn’t explain it, but your feet were always getting cold while you pleasured yourself. Getting comfortable on your bed and wrapping a comforter around yourself, you opened your tablet, setting the volume level low and finding that link April sent you. You threw a quick glance to the door, prepared to switch the tablet off any second if Bucky was going to show up. Shoot, were you doing it for real? Yes, yes you were.

Opening the video, you bit down on your lower lip, a little ashamed still. Trying to get these thoughts out of your head, you concentrated on what was happening in the video, watching a girl sitting on the lap of a beefy bearded man stroking her ass. He was speaking to her softly, but in a very low, husky voice, and you realized it was getting warm in between your thighs. You closed your eyes, listening to the voice that, along with a sound of him slapping the girl, was making you aroused way more than the picture itself.

"Have you been good, princess?" The man whispered, and you could see the smug grin on his face even with your eyes closed.

Yes, you have, you thought, your hand slowly trailling down your belly and touching the elastic of your cotton panties.

Fuck, you heard the sound of one more slap and bit your lip again, imagining it was you he spanked, caressing your raw, hot skin with his calloused palm, his fingers digging in your soft flesh when you tried moving away, quietly squirming from his touch. You were a good girl for him. You'd do what your daddy told you, baring your ass in front of him and getting back on his lap, moving on top of him, making him feel you through the fabric of his pants until you ruined them. Would daddy be happy if you rode him, moaning like some dirty slut until he shut you with his mouth? Would he like you cumming on his cock with your eyes rolling inside your skull out of immense pleasure?

With your fingers on your clit, you gently stroked that bundle of nerves, getting more and more wet until you soaked your panties, listening to the voice of that man and imagining being with your own daddy, somebody who would take care of you, somebody who would never leave you alone and comfort you when you needed it the most. Oh, were you crying, thinking of it? You could feel your eyes growing wet as you softly moaned. You imagined the man touching your hair and kissing your forehead, and tears were now streaming down your cheeks.

You were pathetic, you thought. You couldn't even pleasure yourself while watching porno anymore.

Softly sobbing, you kept listening to the video, touching your sleek folds and missing the shadow that descended upon you - you couldn't see the stranger behind the window, watching you sitting there on your bed with a tablet in front of you, seeing the video clearly. Maybe Bucky couldn't hear it from the outside, but he knew it - he saw it a couple of weeks ago when he felt a little lonely.

You almost cummed when you heard the steps right outside the door, inmediately hitting the screen to stop the video and hiding your tablet beneath the comforter. You didn't figure out anything better than pretending you were already asleep, aside from the fact it was barely seven.

Covering your head, you prayed Bucky didn't see anything suspicious, mentally cursing April for sending you the link. Shit, you knew this wasn't going to end well! Why on Earth did you even tried something as reckless and stupid as this when Bucky could show up any minute?

"I know you're not sleeping."

His voice sounded so much closer than you anticipated that you almost flinched, holding your breath for a couple of seconds. Fuck, did he know? Did he hear you? Could he see the tablet beneath your blanket?

You stilled, still pretending you were sleeping when Bucky landed close to you, the bed dipping under him. When he suddenly touched your leg, making you flinch involuntarily, you clamped a hand around your mouth. Shit! What was he doing? He had never ever touched you like that before. Was he mad? Did he-

"You can stop pretending, little one." As Bucky lifted your comforter, you stared at him, terrified to the core with your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

Immediately, you tried moving away, determined to get to the other side of the room, but he quickly held you down with his hands on your wrists, getting on top of you. Shit. Staring at his dark but calm expression, you saw a strange glint in his eyes that had never been there before. The thought made you shiver.

Something was wrong with the way he hold you, looked at you - it was not like before when he treated you like some sad kid, patting your head awkwardly when you cried and rarely giving you a hug. You were staring at the man who barely reminded you of Bucky who had been coming to your house to watch a hockey game late in the evening. This man seemed like a stranger.

"Please, Mr. Barnes-"

"Shhhh." He interrupted your pleading, leaning closer to you so his dark hair brushed against your face. "Don't be scared. It's alright."

No, no, it wasn't alright in any sense, and you kept struggling, doing your best to break free from his grasp until Bucky made you yelp from pain, grabbing your hands so hard you thought you'd have bruises. When you got silent, trembling beneath him with your eyes full of tears, he got closer, his forehead touching yours as he exhaled into your face.

“P-please, I don’t want to.”

“Don’t you? I’ve seen what you’ve been doing while I was gone.” His stormy grey eyes bore into you, and you thought Bucky was angry at you watching that filthy porno. “But I won’t punish you.”

“What do you want then?” You sobbed, then froze when he kissed your cheek, and then your nose and eyelids, his chapped lips brushing softly against your skin. His touch felt warm.

“To take care of you.”

You looked at him with your watery eyes, whimpering softly when Bucky kissed your forehead as you relaxed beneath him, shocked at his words. Take care of you? What did he mean by that? Wasn’t he taking care of you already? No, now you knew why Bucky was close, and he definitely wasn’t some good Samaritan you imagined him to be. Was it all for this? Did he pretend to be your friend just to let you lower your guard?

Crying, you closed your eyes, thinking how silly you were wanting someone to be by your side, having dreams about someone taking care of you, comforting you when even the one you thought was there for you just wanted to use a silly little girl and throw her away.

“Take what you want and go.” You managed to mumble, choking on a sob. “Just leave me alone.”

Bucky raised his brows, his gaze heavy as he stared at your face wet with tears. “Why would I? Didn’t you hear what I just said, little one?”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, avoiding looking him in the eyes. “You’re here because you want to take something from me. So, take it and go. Please!”

Bucky let out a loud breath, getting off you and rolling to the side, but holding you close and pressing your face into his chest. You could feel a subtle smell of sweat coming from him; strangely, it was almost comforting. Anyway, you had no strength left to fight him, so you just laid there, his hands on your back and in your hair. His black zipped hoodie was quickly getting wet with you still sobbing quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere, little girl.” He whispered, touching the top of your head with his lips. “You’re mine to take care off. Look at you, barely able to sleep on your own. How do you think you will manage without me?”

You didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. What Bucky told you was true - you barely existed outside of your house, facing the reality where you were always alone. April was trying her best to help you come to your senses, but she wasn’t family. You needed a family.

“Will you stay?” You whimpered, shaking lightly at the though Bucky would go, too, and you would end up all by yourself, talking to four walls until one day they would talk to you, too.

“Remember your birthday wish?” He asked instead of answering your question, and you felt like the air was sucked out of your lungs. But before you had time to said something, Bucky dropped a kiss to your forehead again, caressing your head tenderly. “I am your family, little one. You will never be alone.”

______________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin​ @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @ninefuckingoneone @iheartsebastianstan @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

#dark bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #winter soldier #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #catws #yandere #requests #bucky barnes x reader

[shuttershocky]

If you could make a trigger warning list for Tsukihime, what would be on it? There's a lot of people who are just getting interested in it with the remake (myself included) and I think having a tw list would be a really nice thing for those getting in now. If you can't remember every scene, a general list is good enough!

Oh boy.

Ohhhhhhhh boyyyyyyyyy.

Alright. So. A little bit of explanation: there's a reason why Nasu actually wants to remake this game. Tsukihime is by miles his darkest and most brutal work, and a lot of it is completely unnecessary edginess made by poor and almost literally starving Nasu and Takeuchi. Kara No Kyoukai wasn't exactly making waves, and the two were living on cup noodles and working other jobs to keep themselves afloat. To finish the VN Takeuchi even made Nasu quit his job and worked two in his stead (biking home in-between said jobs to do art) just so Nasu would have time to write. The nastiness of what they felt at the time is everywhere in the script, and it speaks to Nasu's talent that what came out wasn't complete edgelord garbage.

Did you ever read the original Fate/Stay Night? Did you get taken abrupt when Illya and Berserker first attack Shirou, Rin, and Saber, and Illya orders Berserker to behead Saber and rape the corpse so that Saber would rather die than continue to regenerate and fight? Did you think that kinda came out of nowhere and was unnecessary? The Realta Nua rerelease didn't just remove all the bad sex scenes, they removed lines like those entirely.

Tsukihime has waaaaaaaay more of that, and unlike Fate/Stay Night it couldn't easily edit all of them out and get rereleased without changing the story. It needed to be rebuilt from the ground up.

Personally, I've been so excited for the remake because Nasu has expressed regret before on how misogynistic his writing was before. Specifically he was asked in an interview about his focus on female characters in his works and he something like "I've been told before 'Nasu respects womens rights' because of all the powerful girls in my works, but looking back I can clearly see my own prejudices" especially singling out how Shirou treated Saber in the Fate route and how Tohno Shiki needed to get uppercut by Arcueid. I'm far more excited to see how Nasu will approach Tsukihime with that hindsight in mind more than I am about the visual and music upgrades the VN will get. I don't think Nasu wants to (or even should) remove all the problematic content of the original Tsukihime as this IS a work of horror, but a lot of editing would greatly improve the script.

Releasing Tsukihime R on PS4 isn't just a message of a console release, it's a sign that things will be different this time due to Sony's strict rules (that do not apply to its first party games apparently).

With that being said, a general trigger warning list from memory:

1.) There is a LOT of rape and sexual assault. Mentions of the act, internal narration from characters witnessing or attempting to find someone to rape, Shiki can straight up rape two of the girls on two seperate routes if he makes the wrong choice (he will be killed the day after). There's also a line where Shiki tells Ciel that if she doesn't do what he says, he'll rape her. The context there is that he's extremely weak and she can snap him like a twig so he just shouts the most hurtful thing he can think of, but it's still dumb. If I remember correctly, there's a choice that makes Shiki sexually assault Hisui and it DOESNT lead to a dead end, with most guides recommending that choice to get the CGs. I got annoyed and that's when I made my own guide for the route.

2.) Unknown to Shiki, his family's bloodline carries a powerful violent impulse to kill any non-human they see, strong enough to temporarily take over their wills and delight in murder by conflating it with sexual pleasure. The first time Shiki sees Arcueid, he falls into a trance and stalks her back home before brutally cutting her up into 17 pieces and experiences multiple orgasms while doing so. He then comes to his senses and starts vomiting and crying from what he just did and the shame of how much he enjoyed doing it. They're not taking this scene out (It's in the remake PV) but I'm preeeettyyyy sure Shiki's narration won't suddenly talk about how much his dick is loving this.

3.) Incest. Akiha is Shiki's sister. She's also a romantic interest. Technically they're adopted so it's not incest and they haven't seen each other in 8 years so it's not like they grew up together the whole time, but any tine you got to say "technically it's not incest", it's not great. I heavily doubt this is getting removed from the Remake as it's, you know, a whole route. On the other hand, Akiha has a biological brother, and he is creepy about her so that's 100% guaranteed ick right there, but fortunately he never goes far enough that you can tell if he's a sicko or if he's just really possessive of his sister.

4.) Kohaku's backstory. Koha-Ace once joked that this is the true reason the Remake took so long. It forms the backbone of Tsukihime and one of the main threads that ties everything together, but also Kohaku is the middle link between Fujino and Sakura. You can guess what that means.

5.) Heavy gaslighting, heavier drugs. Both Shiki's past and his present in the far side routes involve an almost hilarious relationship to the truth. Everyfuckingbody is lying to Shiki, and his father literally gaslights him with magic by using hypnosis to conveniently erase some traumatic memories that the old man is responsible for and replace them with falsehoods. Shiki nonchalantly talks about his terrible memory when it comes to his childhood throughout the VN, but the actual reason for that is that he got gaslit to hell and back. In the present, Shiki gets drugged out of his mind by someone in his house, and experiences long and detailed hallucinations, all the while being told by his family that nothing is going on. It becomes difficult to tell what's really going on; if he's really walking around town or if he's in bed babbling at the ceiling. It is terrifying and is a part of what gives the Far Side routes great psychological horror, but it still deserves a TW.

6.) Suicide. At least one character kills themselves onscreen.

7.) Torture. In the Ciel route, Roa tortures someone by repeatedly and slowly stabbing blades into them while Shiki is forced to watch. It goes on for a while.

8.) Grooming. This particular bit isn't a part of the Tsukihime VN itself, but more of a fandom joke thanks to Carnival Phantasm. A big part of Shiki's backstory is meeting the mage Aozaki Aoko as an 8 year old and her teaching him about life in the short time they have together. Due to Shiki's nature he almost certainly would have become an evil person, but meeting Aoko instilled a moral compass in him that is the only thing he has to fight his impulses, which is why Shiki loves his sensei so dearly. Melty Blood later made a joke that Aoko is mad she never got a route in Tsukihime, and Carnival Phantasm later had a whole scene stating the real reason Aoko cared for Shiki was that she was grooming him to be her boyfriend as soon as he turned of age. It's super gross and a perversion of what is literally the sole wholesome relationship Shiki has and the only reason there is any good in him at all. I really fucking hate this joke among all others in the Tsukihime fandom.

[yandere-daydreams]

Leviathan's like this, sea serpent-creature yeah? aND he has a tail?? I feel like Levi could breath underwater with all the gills/scales his demon form has, or he's at least insanely fast in water... so if his darling would misbehave I imagine he'd pull them underwater, in a pool the House of Lamentation surely has, and maybe he let's them swim away from him at first, but in the end he'd pull them underwater for a long time :0

This might be the first and last fic I write for Levi, but considering the recent beach event and the mere /idea/ of his tail, it’d be a waste to skip this one. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good scaley boy.

Title: Riptide.

TW: Drowning, Non-Consensual Touching, and Slight Degradation.

~

To be fair, you’d never claimed to be a strong swimmer.

It’s not that you were uncomfortable in the water, nor did you have anything against the sea or sand or whatever slimy, uninvited creature seemed content to spend its day brushing against your ankle whenever you forgot why you were ever unnerved by the ocean. No, you liked the beach, you liked the idea of it. You considered yourself fairly capable, too. Not the best swimmer, but not the worst, either, and certainly not an inept one. You were alright. You were fine.

This was just Leviathan’s habitat, his area of expertise. He’d make anyone look bad, in comparison.

You weren’t weak, he was just too strong.

You heard him before you saw him, a splash and a light, airy chuckle as he emerged somewhere behind you, prematurely amused by your pathetic attempts to tread water. You were already too far from land for your feet to touch, and yet, your oh-so-talented companion had no problem diving below waves and doing what he pleased, even if that only seemed to involve trailing after you and trying not to laugh whenever you lost your composure. He might’ve thought he was helping, keeping an eye on you like a noncommittal lifeguard, but as a lean arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back against his chest in a half-hearted effort to keep you above the surface, you hardly felt helped. Patronized, maybe. Encouraged, but in the way a student is encouraged after their first swimming lesson.

The way a child is, when they’re told they only need a little more practice.

“Do you mind?” You snapped, spitting the words before you think to smooth over your temper. You stopped kicking, but only so you could cross your arms and stiffen, intent on making your discontent known rather than keep yourself afloat. “I’m trying to swim, Levi.”

“Emphasis on ‘trying’,” He countered, the sloppy arrogance in his tone quickly becoming unignorable. That was another thing about Leviathan, today, the water seemed to make him more brazen, more confident. And judging by the fingertips beginning to trail up your thigh and the chin soon resting on the dip of your shoulder, more confident translated seamlessly into more touchy. “You looked like you needed a hand. You were struggling - that only makes it harder to fight the current. You should relax.” Easier said than done, when you could feel his bare skin leeching your warmth, pulling the heat from your body like something more inhumane than you’d like to admit. Again, something brushed against your ankle, and you fought the temptation to shiver. You didn’t need him to think you were any more helpless than he already did. “You’re too tense. I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

You didn’t answer, but Leviathan didn’t seem to care. Comfortable or not, he seemed content to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his smile pressing against your skin, the edges of pointed teeth brushing against your jugular. He pulled you closer, and it took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to shove him away. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you weren’t in the mood to be so friendly, either. “We should start heading back.” You meant to sound confident, but your voice came out low, quiet. Too feeble to have an impact. “The others are probably worried. We drifted out pretty far, they might start to think--”

You never got a chance to finish. Without warning, that cold, slick something took hold of your ankle, a tapered tip taking form as it wrapped around your ankle, all scales and taut muscle. You put a name to the appendage a moment later - a tail, Leviathan’s tail, but awareness hardly made a difference. With a single strong jerk, you were pulled below the surface, the shock only made worse by the fact that he wasn’t letting go. Instinctively, you kicked, flailed, found your makeshift restraint and tried to pry it away, but Leviathan never faltered, never loosened his grip, never moved to help you or pull you down further or hurt you. No, he just held you there, letting you panic away your dwindling air supply until your chest began to ache and your eyes stung, tears attempting to form only to dissolve into the sea, water fading into water. You weren’t drowning, not yet, but you were going to. 

You were going to drown, and he was going to let you.

Just as your lungs began to burn, a hand wrapped around your bicep, taking you by the arm and hauling you upward, his tail never falling away but loosening, preparing to if you fought enough to make holding on inconvenient. You took a ragged breath, almost hitched and broken enough to make the inhale worthless, but your body was quick to right itself, to find its rhythm and soothe the raging part of your mind that still insisted you were about to die. Air came and went, but the fear lingered, adrenaline forcing its way into your veins and refusing to leave until you were shaking, trembling, whether in relief or anger, you couldn’t tell. You chose to assume it was the latter, if only because it was so easy to be mad, right now. You wanted to be mad.

Because Leviathan wasn’t smiling, anymore. No, how could expect him to just be smiling?

Now, he was laughing.

“You should’ve seen your face!” If he noticed your distress, he didn’t bother to comfort you. Rather, you were left to grit your teeth as he barely tried to suppress his smirk, making no effort to hide his satisfaction. His reluctance was gone, too, replaced with loose, careless apathy as he pulled you closer, looping an arm around your waist, never giving you the option to move away. Never giving you the chance to. “You just looked so surprised! Serves you right, honestly. Bringing up my brothers, acting so cold…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he nipped at your collarbone, nearly drawing blood. Trying to draw blood. “It’s starting to feel like want to be with them more than you want to be with me.”

“Let go of me.” It was a weak command, mumbled almost inaudibly, but you forced yourself to shake your head and close your eyes, your palm rising to press against his chest almost involuntarily. His fingers dug into your side, and you took the signal not to go any further, but you had to continue. You couldn’t stop yourself. “You attacked me, you tried to drown me. You don’t get to act like--”

This time, he pushed you. It was just a nudge, a slight tap to your shoulder, but his tail did the rest. You did your best to resist, to go against the force pulling you downward, but resilience just meant your back hit the sand harder, that more air was knocked out of your lungs. It was a warning, this time, little more than a hint at the possibility of something worse, but black still lined the edges of your vision as he dragged you back to the surface, his tail rising, coiling, wrapping around your leg until you could feel its blunt point trace shape against the inside of your thigh. Your head still pounded, and your body still hurt, more than it should’ve for such a short submersion.

And you still bit your tongue when Leviathan’s grin returned, more sleek and more sharp than it should’ve been.

More predatory than it’d ever been before.

“That’s it,” He muttered, letting you fall into his arms against the gentle current. “I just want a few minutes. That’s not so bad, is it? A little more time won’t kill you.”

He was right. It wouldn’t.

But, you were beginning to think Leviathan might.

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere scenario #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #obey me #obey me imagines #yandere obey me #obey me: one master to rule them all #shall we date obey me #shall we date leviathan #swd leviathan #leviathan x mc #leviathan x reader #yandere leviathan #obey me leviathan #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yanderecore #yancore

[kimistorm]

Fly Away my Love || Chapter 1: Step Out (Stray Kids Reader Insert AU)

Masterlist

You didn't have any plan in mind when you escaped, and that left you lost in the wide-open world. Luckily for you, you found some helping hands along the way who proved to be more than strangers who were in the same boat as you...they became something more, and you couldn't be more thankful for the eight men by your side. Stray Kids Supernatural Abilities AU! Platonic relationships as of now~

Warnings: Some violence with mentions of getting hurt, blood, and guns.

Run.

Get out of here!

Faster.

I can’t leave you behind!

Fear.

Stop it!

Go.

You panted as you struggled to keep yourself in the air. The air was cold and dry, and your throat was quickly parched as you tried to gulp down air. The sweat that was causing your clothes to stick to your body felt cold and sticky in the cool air. Making you feel simultaneously hot and cold as your nerves felt alight with burning pain. The sky surrounding you was a light gray that allowed you to see without squinting into the sun but it seemed to suck the color out of the landscape below you.

You knew your wings were already damaged, and to suddenly throw them into heavy use caused a loud protest. You could feel everything that was happening on your wings, you could feel every brush of a feather against another, and every wound screamed as if it were on fire. You heard the sound of guns and blindly swerved in the air, hoping that it was trained on your previous position and that you would escape unscathed. However, that hope was in vain.

You let out a cry as a new wound bloomed from the tip of your wing. You could feel hot liquid leaking out and knew without looking that it was dying your white wing red. More gunshots. Move! A voice desperately cried in your head and you tried to dodge something you couldn’t see. A flare of pain. You clutched desperately at your arm that had been hit. Renewed fire made its way through your nerves and your hand was soaked in red. Tears started to pour down your cheeks from the pain, and the flaps from your wings faltered.

There was another shot and pain erupted from your other wing. This time it hit the center and the pain seemed to seize your wing and make it unresponsive. You desperately tried to regain control as you spiraled to the earth. One wing desperately flapping to keep you afloat while the other was frozen in shock. The earth was rapidly coming towards you and you steered yourself towards an open dumpster that you hoped was full of things that would cushion your fall.

There was a loud crash as your body came to a screeching halt, but luck was on your side for once. While the crunching of metal and the clinks of glass made it sound like there were definitely some soda cans, the top layer was a few bags of thrown out clothes. You let yourself lay there for a second to try and catch your breath. Around you, your wings disintegrated into little white flecks that glowed a soft (f/c).

You didn’t know how long you rested there, one hand clutched around your wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding (which was working), your breathing slowing down to a calm rate. It was strangely...comfortable. Sure, it was lumpy and you definitely wouldn’t choose it as a bed, but given your current state of exhaustion, laying there in the dumpster felt like the best course of action. You felt your eyes start to flutter shut and you did nothing to try and stop it, especially after your grand escapade. You just wanted to rest.

Your eyes shot open when you heard shouting, “find (pronoun)!” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You thought you had lost them. As it turns out, you weren’t able to get far enough away. Either way, staying in the dumpster would certainly corner you, so even though it felt like every muscle was telling you ‘no,’ you had to get out. Peeking your head above the edge of the dumpster, you checked the area to see that it was devoid of life. Good.

With a hand placed on the edge, you lightly swung your body over it and onto the ground. You checked again, and seeing nobody, ran in the opposite direction of where you heard the shouting. You tried to keep your feet from slapping loudly on the ground as you peered around corners and darted out. You didn’t know where you were going, you just needed to get out. Maybe find the edge of the town and hide out in the area beyond. You hadn’t seen anyone yet, but that didn’t mean the town was deserted. Leaving would lessen the number of eyes and the chances of you getting caught.

You didn’t get far until you heard someone shout, “there!” and you were running for your life again. You didn't know how many people were chasing you, but judging from the chorus of footsteps behind you, it was a formidable group. You doubted you’d be able to take on one person, but a whole group? Biting your cheek, you forced yourself to keep moving. While ignoring the fatigue weighing down on your limbs and trying to get you to stop. At least you had a break from running during your flight and your little not-nap in the dumpster.

You chanced a glance behind you to see how far your pursuers were from you, and you were relieved to find a space between you and the small group clad in black, but that didn’t mean you were in the clear yet. You were still clearly visible to the group chasing you, and if you faltered for a second, they would catch up. A small voice in your head wondered why they hadn’t shot you yet, considering how normally they never restrained like this, but you were too panicked to care.

You turned a corner hoping to lose them, but instead, a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before pulling you close. Thinking the worst, you desperately punched and kicked against whoever held you, fighting back against the person who grabbed you and pulled you into the shadows. “Stop it!” the hushed yell commanded as the person fought with you and managed to pin you against the rough wall, “do you want to get caught?” a hand clamped over your mouth to keep you from screaming even though a scream threatened to rip itself from your throat. Both from pain and from fear. However, the rapid stomping of feet caused you to still and listen to the stranger. You knew with certainty what would happen if you were captured by the soldiers in black. Falling down that path meant going into a tunnel with no light. This stranger...well, you could always fight back if you needed to. Probably.

The stranger let out a sigh of relief, “they’re gone.” He reported and loosened his tight grip on you. You immediately took the chance and yanked yourself out of his grasp. He desperately tried to catch you and keep his hold, but you were too quick as you put a couple of feet between the two of you and glared at him. You could’ve run, and a small voice in the back of your head was shouting at you to run. Get out while you can. But whoever this was, he saved you, and you were far too curious to know why than to listen to the voice of reason.

“Why did you save me?” you demanded, a bit too coldly for someone who desperately needed that split second of kindness to save you. Your chest was still heaving and it felt like your limbs were heavier than before, but this was still a moment of rest that you hoped would give you enough strength to continue.

Even in the shadows of the alley the two of you hid in, his eyes seemed to emit a faint glow of red as he stared back at you. You couldn’t help but take a scared step back. You didn’t notice it when he held onto you, but he seemed to emit an aura like a demon. He noticed the fear that settled on your face before he blinked and shook his head, “sorry,” he apologized with a sweet smile and the glow disappeared. You blinked. Was that magic? Did he have something like you? “You were running from them, right?” he asked with the same sweet smile.

You were slow to respond as you were trying to be careful about the situation. Revealing that you were trying to get away wasn’t anything that would hurt you, right? “Yeah. Thank you.” Your response was curt. This was still a stranger, and even though there was the slight possibility that he was in the same situation as you, you weren’t going to let that sway you into making rash moves.

“I’m Seungmin.” You couldn’t help but stare at the dark-haired man in shock. He gave away his name so easily. He knew nothing about you, yet he was already offering this hand of friendship?

He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for an answer from you, “oh, uh (stage/fake name. Will be abbreviated as s/n from now on).” He didn’t seem to hold any ill intent, but you weren’t going to be so trusting.

It was almost like he could read the atmosphere off of you and his gaze softened, “I can do magic.”

“Why would you say that?” you immediately snapped. The guarded look and atmosphere was immediately replaced with hostility. “You don’t know if I can do magic, and in this world, magic is a condemnable offense worth your life.” You took another step away from him, this time, not out of fear, but because this man was too trusting. If you let him through your walls and trusted him, if he went down, so would you, and right now it seemed like he would go down very easily. “Thank you for saving me, but I don’t owe you anything.” You took another step back away from him, he didn’t move closer to you, instead, he hung back with an almost disappointed aura around him. “I will be taking my leave now.” Without giving him a second glance, you turned around, gave a quick glance to make sure nobody was there, and ran off.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids au #skz au #super power au #kpop au #kpop imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids reader insert #stray kids ot8 #skz x reader #skz reader insert #skz ot8 #stray kids x gender neutral reader #stray kids x y/n #seungmin #kim seungmin #super power #my work #kimi's writing

[itsclydebitches]

Is Penny about to die again? Like how do you stop her self destruct order? I guess they can have her somehow fight off and eliminate Watts’ hacking implements. Or somehow Pietro will become relevant again and save his daughter.

Also what happens to the maiden powers if she dies? Like specifically Penny? Does it take into account her memories as a machine. Will her corrupted half cancel any memories and make them randomly (but convenient for the protagonists) or will her last uncorrupted memories count it goes to Nora or Ruby.

I would hope RWBY didn’t include the “surprise” of bringing her back last volume and give her something as significant as the Maiden powers just to kill her off again. If that were the case, what was the point of bringing Penny back at all? Especially when she and Ruby haven’t had any significant growth, what with Ruby’s lukewarm reaction to her resurrection and Penny asking the exact same “Am I a person?” question from Volume 3. If Penny dies in the next four episodes, we could have accomplished all of this with any other character. Fria leaves with the group and, given her illness, spends just as much time asleep as Penny now has, then Ironwood threatens to nuke Mantle unless she’s handed over. Grab any other women in this cast, make them sympathetic to Team RWBY, and you’ve got the same, bare-bones ultimatum. The only things that would change are Amity tower and Watts’ hack, neither which, frankly, would be missed. Granted, we haven’t yet seen whether Penny’s loss of autonomy will become important, but right now we could tweak all of this without any loss. So Cinder attacks without damaging the tower. Or Pietro does some science-magic to keep it afloat just long enough for Ruby’s message to go out. Ironwood interrogates Qrow instead of letting Watts tinker with Penny’s sword. Everything else  — Maiden accompanies the group, Ace Ops attack to get the Maiden back, Hound goes after the Maiden and knocks her out  — can happen with someone else. Penny has yet to do anything as the Maiden that makes her being the Maiden significant, so I certainly hope that happens once she wakes up again. Regardless, if she dies the power might indeed go to someone like Nora? Provided she’s not thinking of anyone in a corrupted state (in which case the powers would be lost to someone random). But I recall the writers saying once that no one on Team RWBY would be made a Maiden... but they also said Ironwood has used his semblance in the office and that Ozpin’s cane stores time, two of the most recent examples of commentary being proven wrong. So I think we should take any Q&A info with a grain of salt. 

At this point, if Penny does survive, my money is actually more on a generic “She overcomes the virus with the power of knowing she’s her own person.” I mean, that’s what they’re pushing so far. Despite being hacked, Penny miraculously holds it off because Nora reminds her that she’s a person. Then Watts says she’s somehow fighting it, the implication being that this shouldn’t be possible. Rather than treating this like the physical blow it is  — the equivalent of breaking one of the character’s legs, an injury/violation that doesn’t go away simply because they want it to  — RWBY seems to be edging towards it representing Penny’s human-ness. If she just wills herself in control then she will be, never mind that another person couldn’t will away a biological virus. It’s not necessary at this point (we’ve spent Penny’s entire time on screen re-emphasizing that yes, she has a soul, we learned and accepted that years ago) and it doesn’t make sense from a realistic, in-world standpoint. I’d much prefer them to remember that Pietro exists and have him fix her, but I have a bad feeling we might get something like Ruby shouting at Penny You’re my friend! You can fight this! and Penny does, shaking off the control to declare (again) that she’s not a machine... even though, physically, she is. 

I can’t help but think though that RWBY has boxed itself into a corner. I mean, obviously I don’t believe killing Penny off again is a good idea, but what are they doing to do with her if they don’t? I suppose she could stay behind to help Atlas, keeping her Maiden powers a secret, or using them to help now that the world knows about Salem (still dangerous, but RWBY’s never going to tackle that again), but if she doesn’t, we’ve got a problem. Not only is that another main character to keep track of, Penny has too much power at her disposal. This volume we watched Ruby take out the most powerful grimm they’ve ever seen instantaneously, then we watched Oscar take out the whale, Salem, AND all the grimm instantaneously. We have two characters with one-shot powers that negate any stakes and the one time the show asked, “What happens if Ruby or Oscar can’t help?” the answer wasn’t, “The others find a way to save themselves in a satisfying manner” but rather, “Blake begs Ruby to wake up. She does. Ruby saves her.” We’re already seeing the problems of giving your characters that kind of power and making them The Savior of every scene, so what’s RWBY going to look like if a Maiden permanently joins the team? Nothing outside of Salem herself will be a threat to them and if something is, the audience will be asking why in the world they’re not using the powers at their disposal. Like the fandom throwing up their hands every time Marrow doesn’t use his ‘stop’ semblance when it would be very useful for him to do so, we can’t keep giving our characters this kind of power and then crafting scenes where they just, I don’t know, forget they have them? So either the tension of fights is lost, or the characters end up looking stupid. Or you snag great writers capable of coming up with truly threatening scenarios that impose limitations despite that power (like the Apathy)... but that’s unlikely to be consistent. 

Idk. I think at this point I’m team “The kingdom needs help after everything is said and done, so Penny stays behind to provide that, keeping her Maiden powers hidden and, hopefully, safe.” That feels like the less complicated option out of a number of bad possibilities. 

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #long post #Anonymous

[sceptilemasterr]

Defenders of the Flame (TE Rewrite) Act 3, Scene 3 - "That Distance Between Us"

Title: Defenders of the Flame (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Shreya x F!MC, Beckett x F!Atlas

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite (The Elementalists, Book 1)

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: Fiora struggles with feelings of inadequacy after a Defenders training session.

Previous Scene: Back in Session

Masterlist: Link

EXT. PCSA SECONDARY QUAD - TRAINING GROUND - NIGHT

Late one night, the Defenders of the Flame have all assembled on Penderghast’s secondary quad, which they have reserved for the night. Lucia and Arvan watch over the new inductees as they practice their Combat Forms... or, in Fiora’s case, still practice Stoicheal Gather.

FIORA (to herself): I... no... this is... wait...

Fiora concentrates, but to no avail as she fails to materialize anything more than a few small wisps of energy. Meanwhile, the others continue working on their own tasks.

ARVAN: Everyone, focus! Hold tight to your foundation!

Several successive thunderclaps are heard as Shreya and the third-year inductees all pull off a perfect Stoicheal Gather. Shreya stands charged with energy, her skin glowing a bright orange.

LUCIA: Well done! Now for the Form itself... just like we’ve practiced!

From his stance with his arms crossed in front of him, Zannagan uncrosses his arms and sweeps them over his head and out to his sides... but aside from a momentary flare of fire around his body, nothing happens. A second later, he shudders and stretches his arms out above his head, launching a gigantic fireball into the sky!

LUCIA: Okay, Zannagan, try again--

Before she can say anything more, Shreya performs a similar maneuver. This time, however, the stoicheal energy illuminating her skin starts to glow brighter, brighter... just as she uncrosses her arms, it illuminates until it lights up the entire room, blinding everyone. And then:

FIORA (shocked): What the hell?!

LUCIA (ecstatic): You did it, Shreya!

ARVAN: Nice job!

A massive dragon, its scales the color of Shreya’s hair, floats in the skies above the training ground, flapping its wings to stay afloat. The dragon looks down at the others curiously, then starts to panic. Arvan makes a few quick hand gestures, then speaks, his voice amplified.

ARVAN: Shreya! Well done! Now, just like we practiced: focus and revert to your human self!

For a few seconds, nothing happens.

FIORA (terrified): She... she’s not stuck like that, is she?

LUCIA: Nah. Give her a second--

The dragon abruptly turns into a puff of smoke, then vanishes. Everyone starts coughing from the cloud of smoke now surrounding them.

FIORA (coughing): Ack! ...Shreya?

The smoke clears, and then:

SHREYA: Fiora! Holy Source, did you see that?! I did it! I pulled off a Combat Form! I--

Shreya lifts Fiora and spins her around, and Fiora kisses her, cutting off her words. After a moment (and an irritated cough from Arvan), Shreya seems to remember where she is, and abruptly sets Fiora down and takes a step back.

SHREYA: Mon dieu! That power... I had no idea Combat Form was that... that...

LUCIA: ...Intense? Yeah. It’s a rush.

ZANNAGAN: Nice job!

RHIIA: Impressive. Was it hard to come back to normal?

SHREYA: Not particularly. I kept my foundation point in mind at all times, and when I heard Arvan’s voice, I just thought about turning back to human. And it worked!

MICHAE: That was super cool! Do all Attuned turn into dragons like that, or does it depend on the person?

ARVAN: Combat Form varies by Attunement. Fire-Atts all get huge dragons. Air-Atts get gryphons the size of buildings, Water-Atts get giant sea serpents... etc.

MICHAE: Whoa. You might’ve mentioned the “dragon” part of Combat Form before now!

ARVAN (shrugs): Some things are more fun to find out for yourself. Besides, I love seeing new inductees’ reaction to it once they pull it off!

RHIIA: Shreya, that was amazing. You’ll have to teach us how to do it next!

SHREYA: I’d be happy to!

As Shreya rejoins the other inductees, Fiora looks in her direction wistfully. A hint of jealousy darkens her expression for a brief moment, then she stares down at her hands and slumps to her knees. The others continue practicing...

* * *

Some time later, practice is winding down to a close. The other inductees are all out of breath; none of them save Shreya have managed to perform a Combat Form. Arvan and Lucia exchange a glance, then start walking back toward the main quad.

LUCIA: Nicely done. Especially you, Shreya! Let’s call it a night for now. We’ll meet again next week, same time and place, okay?

ARVAN: Don’t forget to keep practicing your Gathers in the meantime! Just avoid working on Combat Form unsupervised. The last thing anyone wants is a feral dragon flying around Penderghast.

He laughs and continues walking. The third-years all retrieve their belongings and follow Arvan and Lucia; soon, Shreya and Fiora are alone on the secondary quad. Shreya approaches Fiora and takes a seat on the grass next to her.

SHREYA: ...Everything okay?

FIORA: Yes... no. Maybe. I don’t know.

SHREYA: What’s wrong? If it’s about the kiss, I do apologize; I’d quite honestly forgotten we were in public. I never meant to embarrass you--

FIORA: It’s not that! It’s just... (sighs) I’m really happy for you, Shreya. So glad you’re doing great with the Combat Form. Seriously! It was a little shocking seeing you turn into a dragon out of nowhere, but also... really cool.

SHREYA: Ah. I think I understand. It’s because you’re struggling with this, while I’ve already managed to achieve a Combat Form today?

FIORA: It’s not just that, Shreya. Forget Combat Form. I still can’t even pull off Stoicheal Gather.

She demonstrates that fact by getting into her stance. After a minute or so of trying, a single, pathetic wisp of fire stoichi flows lazily around her head, before falling to the floor and fizzling out uselessly. Fiora opens her eyes and shakes her head, gesturing around her.

FIORA: See? I don’t get it. I’m supposed to be this fancy, special Light-Att or whatever... and I can’t even manage that.

Shreya snaps her fingers as a sudden realization occurs to her.

SHREYA: Aha! So that’s what this has all been about. I’ve noticed that distance between us lately. Then... it’s not to do with me?

FIORA (shocked): What? No, of course not! Shreya, kissing you and getting to be your girlfriend was the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten! You’re honestly about the only good thing in my life right now.

SHREYA: Don’t let Atlas hear you say that.

Fiora laughs weakly.

FIORA: Shreya...

Her voice trails off, and the two of them look at each other in silence. Shreya takes Fiora’s hand and squeezes it tightly. After a brief moment, Fiora takes a deep breath and tells her:

FIORA: It’s the foundation point. I don't have one! All this time, I’ve just been going along with whoever was around: my friends back at Hartfeld, then here with the Pend Pals, then Atlas... and now I feel like I’m doing the same thing with you. Without someone to follow, I have no idea who I am!

Shreya smiles gently and pecks Fiora on the cheek.

SHREYA: I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t noticed that tendency of yours. But to be quite honest, I think you’re underestimating yourself. Fiora, you are your own person. You simply need to see yourself the way I see you.

FIORA: You’re right. I know you are. It’s... easier said than done, though.

SHREYA: That’s perfectly alright. We’ll figure this problem out together. Okay?

FIORA: ...Okay.

SHREYA: Besides, you know the next step for the Defenders after Combat Form will be training for Light-Attunement. And that is certainly something where you will need to help me!

Fiora laughs and hugs Shreya tightly.

FIORA: I never even thought of that! You’re right... I’ll figure this out, and then I’ll help you with that one when it comes!

SHREYA: Exactly. Shreya and Fiora. We’re a team!

They exchange a heartfelt kiss under the moonlight... when suddenly:

ATLAS (coughs): Um. Hi...

FIORA: Oh! Atlas! We were just--uh--

SHREYA: ...Busy.

ATLAS: I can see that! But maybe don’t stay out this late without telling us? Especially with Raife’s shadow monsters liable to attack at any moment?

FIORA: Right. Sorry...

ATLAS: No worries. Just don’t forget: Dr. Swan’s still missing, and we have no idea what Raife’s been up to since he escaped the Between when the breach happened. We can’t be too careful.

SHREYA (blushing): Of course. Right.

ATLAS: ...If it’s any consolation, Fiora, Beckett’s having trouble with his Combat Form too.

FIORA: What--wait--how much of that conversation were you listening to?

ATLAS (shrugs): Enough of it. For the record, Shreya is not the “only” good part of your life right now. Just saying.

Atlas strides past them, toward the main campus. Fiora and Shreya exchange an awkward glance, then follow her back to Fletchly Hall...

_______________________

Notes: And at long last, we see a Combat Form! People who manipulate fire and can also turn into dragons... where have Choices fans seen THAT concept before?

Worldbuilding: It didn't get mentioned directly, but people going feral while in Combat Forms is, in this universe, where legends of dragons, gryphons, sea monsters, etc. came from among the Tuneless. Back in the day, feral Combat Forms were much more common.

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Next: The Approaching Storm

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DotF/Elementalists Tag List:

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