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shibaraki · 5 months

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STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 3.8K

series masterlist: 2/5

Shouto was born to be a hero.

It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.

Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.

Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.

While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.

You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.

Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.

You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.

A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.

Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”

“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.

“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.

Three, two, one.

“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.

Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.

In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.

As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.

Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.

From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.

Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.

“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.

“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.

Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.

“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.

“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.

Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.

“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.

Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.

“You’re right”.

“I know”.

“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.

“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”

“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.

“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.

The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.

Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.

The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.

His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.

Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”

A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.

You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.

Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.

“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”

An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.

Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?

You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.

Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.

Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.

“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”

Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.

“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”

A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.

The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.

You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”

Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.

“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”

Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.

“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.

Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.

Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.

“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.

“That’s not good”.

Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.

You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.

“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”

“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.

“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.

“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”

Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.

You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.

You think he’s great at it.

Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.

He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.

“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.

“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.

You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.

“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.

“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.

“If,” he amends.

“You don’t think you’ll move up?”

“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.

You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.

The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.

You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.

“Can I hug you?”

Shouto touches his face and you laugh.

“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.

Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.

“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.

“Shouto!”

Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.

“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.

"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”

The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.

You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.

Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.

#bnha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #mha x reader

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winterr77 · 8 months

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☆4-step Study Framework☆

~watched Justin Sung's video recently and my current takeaways,

Step 1: Aim high:

think what would ______ do? e.g (could be an individual or career) What would a/an "overachiever/scientist/Albert Einstein" do?

Step 2: Cram early:

Cram the foundation of the whole semester in maybe around the first 2 weeks to be able to understand its relevance during lecture times.

Step 3: Build prior knowledge:

build prior knowledge so that you can consolidate the info during the time everyone else is learning.

Step 4: Be strategic with your resources:

have self-regulated learning skills (look things up and use self-explanation and generation) where you don’t ask simple questions, rather test hypothesise or check synthesised ideas.

→“Try to develop the skills to figure out the basic stuff by yourself, use expertise where expertise is needed.”

Make sure: Never compromise the non-negotiables:

Use a ‘solutions’ mindset, and make do with the resources you have and try to figure it out and make an educated guess as to what will be taught (you can get 70% right and 30% from lectures)

If you are making excuses for; I cant study at home, my commute is too long, I procrastinate too much etc.→ “Are you wanting help? Or are you just wanting validation for why it’s hard for you?”

will start my 3 hour study session now :)

good luck everyone <;3

~winter

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚

#study #studyspo #study motivation #studying #aesthetic #college #university #student life #grad school #university student #uniblr #science #justin song #learn #education #research

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storiesofsvu · 5 months

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Solace in Solitude Ch 7

Eventual Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, nicotine and weed consumption, mentions of trauma/death, nightmares & anxiety. Yup!! She is back y'all!! Let's just say I got very bored of writing for bingo, things are not very Christmasey around here so I decided to try and finish this entire thing by New Year's. Now, i doubt that'll happen, but i'm still aiming for a chapter per day meaning 4-5 more chapters by NYE which honestly is just under what I have planned for this series. I wanted this one to be better, I can't lie, but in the new year we will move on to a new series and it will be wonderful! Happy Holidays!!

Emily kept her braids in until the next time her hair needed to be washed, if you had said anything she would say it was purely out of convenience and nothing else. But she knew that she actually liked it, she felt as if a new style was something that would help her move on to a new phase of life, not to mention you were a wizard when it came to braiding her slowly growing bangs into the braids and keeping them off her face. A new, different look was her way of leaning into Valerie, making herself more comfortable with the idea of everything and sticking around Paris while she waited for it to all come to an end.

She finally had enough energy to get out of the apartment, making it down the block to the corner store to pick up a few things. You’d been working later and longer hours, mentioning something about picking up a new research project in passing one day (that or you were hiding at the hospital, she wasn’t entirely sure). Thanks to that, things around the apartment had started to get a little on the lacking side when it came to chores. Emily didn’t mind, she spent most of the time in her room anyway and she could always get food delivered. But she did feel a bit bad if she wasn’t contributing at all, especially considering the last time she washed her hair you wordlessly braided it without her even having to ask.

So she’d began using her daily out of the house walks to not only get some more energy and strength back, but to pick up a few things for the apartment. Some days it was food, others coffee and she’d taken up the habit of replacing the flowers in the living room whenever they started to wilt. It was another small change in her routine that was helping her feel more human once again and she was finally starting to get comfortable being outside and not being completely on edge the entire time. She used the time to start upping her profiling skills again, the city streets of Paris the perfect place to grab a cup of coffee and people watch. She didn’t really care if she was correct with her hypothesises, it got her brain working again and she felt bad whenever she caught herself profiling you at home.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t tell that you were getting more tired with each day that went by, mentally drained by living the life you hadn’t chosen. She knew that one all too well at this point. So she did her best to keep the apartment in order without overworking herself and keeping out of your way, which in the long run was benefitting her too.

Currently Emily was out on the balcony, her usual home for the time in the evenings when you overlapped and her second favourite place to people watch from. The sun had already began its decent, the sky painted with colours of teal and purple when she heard the door open and shut inside the apartment. Her eyes flicked to the cigarette in her hand, wondering if she should stub it out before you saw it but figured she was already ratted out by the scent wafting through the air, not to mention the half pack of butts in the ash tray. She took another drag of it, watching a family of three on the street below her, the girl in between her parents, a hand holding each of them as she skipped her way down the sidewalk and her lips curved up into a brief grin. The thought of setting out on a nice family adventure on a Friday night, her imagination took hold, ideas flowing through her brain about the multitude of places they could be headed.

She was broken out of the daydream by the sound of you quite literally kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag into your room. The tell tale sign of what she first thought was the fridge opening, the sound of ice cubes being dumped into a glass proving her wrong, that you’d gone for the freezer instead, the glug of the high end bourbon you’d stashed in the pantry flowing into her ears next. She thought the next sound would be the closing of your bedroom door as you disappeared for the night and nearly jumped when you stepped out onto the balcony beside her, swiping the back of cigarettes from the small table. It happened so fast she couldn’t even let out a noise of objection before you spoke, snagging the lit cigarette from practically between her lips.

“Give me that.” You muttered.

“I- hey!” She groaned, her brow furrowing when she looked up at you to find you using her smoke to light your own, the pack already back on the table.

Before she could fully process what was going on her cigarette was back between her fingers and you were dropping into the empty chair, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you sunk even deeper into it. She let silence overtake the balcony so you could use the time to decompress, shift from your doctor self into your home self and no doubt relax a little bit. She finished her smoke, stubbing it out in the ash tray not long after you’d lit yours. She debated going back inside but felt like her skin was still itching, desperate for more nicotine so without even glancing in your direction she picked up the pack, pulling the lighter from her pocket to light a second one while she prepared for the nagging she was about to receive. Instead you simply took another drag, shoulders sagging as smoke slipped from your lips into the cooling night air.

“Nothing, really?” She couldn’t help herself, nearly laughing as she pocketed the lighter, “I thought you of all people would be coming out here to lecture me about the dangers of smoking.”

You let out a scoff of a laugh, “it’s fucking France, everyone smokes.” Your eyes flicked down to the ash tray and your lips curved into a frown, “I won’t lecture you but you might wanna slow down on how many you have per day.”

“Not exactly like I have much else to do.”

“Yeah well, find a hobby or something.” You took another drag, “there’s a bakery two streets over with the best stuff in the city. You could make your walks longer.”

“Hmm.” Emily replied, the acknowledgement that she had been leaving the house and helping out was all either of you needed to discuss on the matter. You weren’t in the mood to be the rule maker right now, that was very clear.

Silence took over the balcony once more and as much as she didn’t mean to, Emily’s eyes flickered over to you, examining your body language, her profiler gears turning. You looked even more mentally tired than you had the last time she’d seen you, not that there were bags under your eyes, but the look of utmost defeat within them. You sunk down so deep into the chair, pulling your legs up into it, curling around yourself as if to protect yourself from the outside world. Your gaze lingered on the skyline, not daring to dart down to the street where people occasionally milled below and every drag of the cigarette between your fingers was long, deep, like someone who desperately needed a more intense vice they hadn’t indulged in in years.

“Rough day?” She finally asked, her voice soft, quiet enough you could ignore it if you wanted to.

“Yeah.” You replied, flicking the ash off your smoke while you glanced down, sighing heavily. “Lost a patient.” Emily watched as your staring contest with the sky ended and your eyes flitted through the street beneath you, “little girl, couldn’t have been more than eight. Came in ‘cause she fell off her bike, complaining of arm pain, admitting doctor said she was wearing a helmet and the initial exam was clear. She was alert, talkative, just the cutest fucking thing, reminded me a lot of my sister at that age. We figured it was a broken arm and were waiting for the x-ray line up to clear up to confirm.” You took a heavy breath, a long drag of your smoke and Emily knew the twist was coming, “turned out the Dad was lying to Mom about the helmet, he didn’t want to get in trouble for not enforcing the rules, thought it didn’t matter that the poor girl bonked her head. We didn’t catch the brain bleed in time…” You trailed off, your eyes glassy as they returned to the sky.

“I’m so sorry…” Emily whispered and you shook your head,

“A family doesn’t come back from that. Guilt’ll eat you alive, Mom’ll likely never forgive Dad, he’ll go insane trying to right a wrong he can’t fix.”

“Can only hope he takes it out on himself and not someone else.” She muttered, shaking her own head and she instantly felt your eyes on her.

“You see a lot of that in your line of work?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” She sighed, “something like today would be a stressor, it builds up higher and higher, fucks with your brain until you can’t take it anymore and it just sparks an explosion. He’s never gonna be able to look at another little girl on a bike again. He’ll see parents who let their kids ride without helmets as unfit, villains, could start lashing out towards them, likely verbally at first before a trigger hits. Could be divorce papers, could be the family ostracizing him, one month, six month, one year anniversary of her death, then he loses it…”

“Mmm.” In any other situation you would have been impressed by the way her brain worked, but right now all you were consumed by was grief, a weak laugh escaping through your lips as you should your head, “god we’re depressing.”

“At least you don’t have to sleep during the day.” She muttered and you let out a small laugh.

“We can adjust your meds again.” You replied before you glanced down to your smoke, your head titling before you looked up at Emily, “though there is something else we haven’t tried…. I mean, we’re already smoking.”

It took a moment for the realization to wash over her, her eyes widening when she realized what you were talking about, “is that legal here?” She whipped her phone out, hastily typing before she nearly shot you a glare, “no! It is not.”

“Oh don’t be a fucking narc,” you rolled your eyes, your voice quieting to not be overheard, “you’re not a fucking fed right now, and it’s fine if it’s medical.”

“That’s gotta be some kind of illegal abuse of your medical licence.”

“Yeah well… I wasn’t the one who shot some guy’s ear off for a threat.” You deadpanned and Emily choked on her words, grimacing as she settled back in her chair instead of trying to stop you as you stood, “a couple of puffs now, we’ll eat a late dinner, finish the joint and go to bed. If it helps you sleep, I’ll get you a prescription.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, willing to try anything at this point to get her back to a normal schedule, knowing that one day she was going to have to work through the day and sleep through the night again. She couldn’t keep this up forever.

You’d been the first to tap out, the exhaustion of a full work day on top of the glass of bourbon and weed, once your stomach was full, you were down for the count, saying goodnight and quickly heading to your bedroom. Emily felt fine, a little cloudy but relaxed, comforted almost and she knew it was probably not the greatest idea but she sipped on a glass of wine after you went to bed, feeling the night sink into the city. She thought nothing of it as she went through her normal nighttime routine, even though it was hours earlier, her eyes were drooping, it was at least time for a nap. She locked the balcony door behind her, washed the couple of dishes in the sink, filled up a glass of water and made sure the alarm was set. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and took whatever meds she normally did before bed and curled up under the blankets, letting out a soft sigh as she did so, sleep taking over much quicker than normal.

The major conflict being that Emily’s body was used to the new sleep schedule she’d implemented, the one that started at dawn and went ‘til dusk. Meaning it had been roughly twelve hours, not twenty four since she’d last taken her meds and even with the added weed, she’d only been awake four hours by the time you got home, there was no way it was actually bedtime for her. She could practically feel herself tossing and turning, her mind racing as images began to plague her dreams.

Though this time it wasn’t just Ian, they were at the villa, there was a weird haze over the entire thing but she was playing with Declan, wide smile on her face as he laughed while she chased him around. At first she looked like Lauren; Declan was as small as she remembered until Ian showed up and a darkness enveloped the room. She could feel her heart pounding, a gasp escaping her lips as she frantically looked around for the boy who was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Unlike the last nightmare this time it was as if she was having an out of body experience, watching the entire thing like it was a movie. She watched the fear spread across her own face as her hair darkened, became straighter, bruises started to purple up on her skin as Ian laughed at her.

“You’ll never find him. You’ll never be able to protect him.” He jeered, “he’s my boy after all. You gave up that chance, didn’t you?”

Blood started to stain her shirt, forming a circle on her lower abdomen before she let out a groan, hands shooting to the wound, trying to hold it together as red streaks began to drip down her clothing. She couldn’t help but collapse to her knees, choking on her own breath as she tried to speak, desperate to find the boy before he did.

“Declan….” She cried out.

Instead of his perfect blue eyes popping up from behind the couch, Ian’s hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her face up to his.

“He is my son.” He spat, “and nothing, not even you, will keep me from him.”

“Please!”

“Em!” A voice rang out, a hand closed around her shoulder and she could see it, the bodyless limb in her nightmare as she continued to sob. She felt like she was going to throw up, “Emily!” It repeated, this time louder, “hey! Wake up!” Her vision began to spin, blurring as the scene in front of her slowly vanished and suddenly she was jolted into her Parisian bedroom, the nightstand light on, casting a glow though the room and she realized it was your voice that was soothing her. “Hey… I’m here.. it’s okay.” You assured her, watching the way she slowly blinked to life, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around the room and she instantly shot up, shuffling back on the bed as if she was about to be hit.

“I-“ she struggled to find the words, her eyes flicking from each spot of the room that was a little too dark for comfort to the window, making sure it was shut before she felt your hand on hers, your thumb soothing across the back of it.

“You’re okay.” You repeated, “he doesn’t know where you are. You’re safe, I promise.”

She took a moment, calming her heavy breaths, not even bothering to wipe the tears away as she fought against every instinct in her to run out of the room right then. Grounding herself by the warmth of your hand on hers, the weight of your body next to her on the bed, knowing that this was reality, not the scene in her head moments prior. Once you could tell she was back on earth your free hand reached out to the nightstand, flicking through her pill bottles until you found the anti anxiety, twisting it open to hand her one.

“Here.” She took it from you, popping it under her tongue and waiting for it to dissolve. “You’ll feel better in a bit, get some rest.” You began to shift from the bed, knowing how much she hated when you even attempted to coddle her and she let out an uncharacteristic whimper, her hand instantly tightening in yours.

“Wait!” You were halfway standing when you turned back to her, frowning at the tears blurring in her eyes, “stay… please? Just for now.”

“Okay.” You shot her a weak smile, shifting back onto the bed, your heart sinking at the way the tears were still leaking over her cheeks, the way her body would occasionally shake in fear. Whatever tonight’s nightmare had been about was clearly affecting her more than the last one. You adjusted the blankets, making sure they were wrapped around her, and covering you enough you wouldn’t get cold and you were taken aback at the way she nearly collapsed against you, holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping her from slipping back into another nightmare. “Hey…” you squeezed at her softly, “talk to me… please.”

“Thought you weren’t a shrink.” She bit back and you let out a huff.

“I know the basics, and you need to talk. You need someone right now and I’m the one that’s here, so let me be what you need, even if you hate it.” You felt the vibration of her grumble against you, your free hand soothing up and down her back, “wanna maybe start with who Declan is?”

Emily tensed in your arms, unaware that you’d heard that much, wondering just how much she was willing to share tonight before she let out a shuddering breath, “Doyle’s son.”

“Just… his…?” You asked cautiously and she let out another wavery huff.

“Yes.” Her hand reached up to wipe away a stray tear, “my job was to seduce him, but I mean, I was careful. I even slept with him and I don’t do that.”

“Well even I know sleeping with an international terrorist isn’t likely a good idea.” You muttered back.

“I meant men.” She replied and you almost stiffened beside her.

“Oh…”

Silence filled the room once again as she continued to try to calm her thudding heart, the medicine you’d given her slowly coursing through her veins.

“My job was to keep Declan safe, even afterwards. That’s why I moved to D.C, not because of the BAU, but because it was close to him. I thought I was safe for so long after Doyle was arrested, that things were fine, that he’d never find us again but I was wrong. If he managed to break out of prison, find me and completely destroy me… again… what’s stopping him now?” She took a shuddering breath and your arms tightened around her.

“He thinks you’re dead.” You whispered softly, “even if he hacks into Boston hospital records, that’s what he’ll find.”

“I just want to feel safe.” She sniffled again and you held back the instinct to wipe the new tear away, not wanting to end this chapter of her feeling comfortable talking to you, feeling vulnerable with you. “I knew he wanted to kill me, that he wanted me dead and I had the upper hand and didn’t take it. I died. I actually died in the ambulance and all I felt was… cold.. and darkness… that can’t be it.” Her hand clutched at your shirt again, “that can’t be the end…”

“It wasn’t.” You assured her softy, your hand slowly rubbing up and down her back, “and it won’t be. You deserve so much more than that, okay?”

“I just want to forget him.”

“I know.”

________________

@daddy-heather-dunbar @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @originalbrunettecharacter @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx

#emily prentiss #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #solace in solitude #lauren reynolds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss series

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 1 year

Text

Open and Waiting (Chapter 2)

Gif from this post by @ashr-jedi

Summary: Hunter makes an appearance. You continue to warm Tech’s cock with your mouth and ruminate on previous experiences with Crosshair, Wrecker and Echo.

Relationships: Tech x f!reader, a little bit of Hunter x f!reader, mentions of Crosshair x f!reader, Echo x f!reader and Wrecker x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, cock warming, voyeurism, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, poor self worth, feelings, smut with feelings, sexual inexperience, inexperienced reader, polyamory, gag reflex, pretend sci-fi technology/science, pretend Star Wars planets and locations, not beta read. Mentions of: Deep throating, face fucking, fingering, thigh fucking, tit fucking, bukkake, cum as lube, finger fucking, grinding, toys, butt plug.

Word Count: 2085 (Chapter 2)

Authors Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. The filth continues. Interspersed with … feelings? In my smut? It’s more likely than you think.

I realised I forgot to give any context for where this story sits timeline wise and who the character of the reader is! Timeline wise, this happens at some nebulous point after Echo joins The Bad Batch and before Order 66. The reader is part of the Batch but beyond that you can interpret them however you wish. The most common example I've seen is a medic but a jedi, mechanic, intelligence officer or some other random reason for the reader being in the squad could all work as well. Whatever works for you. The main thing is that the reader is a submissive that the Batch share between themselves and are the reader's dominants. The Batch are all Dom’s in the AU of this fic, but they all have different ways of approaching it, which you’ll hopefully get a little inkling of in this chapter.

Chapters: One, Three, Four, Five, Six | Ao3

Open and Waiting (Chapter 2)

I don’t know how much time passes but eventually I hear the faint hiss of the cockpit door opening and a soft, smooth stride moves out into the main area of the ship.

Hunter.

Our sergeant can be completely silent when he wants to be, so he’s deliberately making sure his approach can be heard. An existence created purely for tracking means that he’s basically permanently stealthy. It can be decidedly startling when he just appears next to you out of nowhere. We really need to put a bell on him or something. Though he’d probably figure out how to move so that it didn’t make a sound. Sneaky bastard.

A gruff voice at the end of the workbench announces his arrival.

“That’s in more bits than when I saw it last.”

“Yes.” Tech replies. “I hypothesised that the size of the casing could be reduced by 2.56% if I reconfigured the internal power connectors into a series of bi-linear couplings. I am currently applying this theory to the prototype you see before you, hence the 'bits' on the workbench.”

“That’s a lot of parts to shove into a small box.” responds Hunter.

“They will fit.” Tech testily replies.

“I don’t doubt that.” Hunter answers.

There’s a brief pause while Tech zaps something and Hunter shifts slightly to the side.

I think I’m being inspected.

Hunter definitely can’t have missed that I’m currently naked, kneeling between Tech’s thighs with my eyes closed, hands restrained behind my back and Tech’s cock stuffed in my mouth.

“You went with the leather cuffs then.” Hunter states.

I am definitely being inspected.

“They are more suited to the purposes of this exercise.” Tech explains. “The focus is on sensation and submission and as an introduction to this practice, I thought it pertinent to ease into the experience gently. The leather cuffs provide an acceptable level of restraint and serve as a reminder of their position, both physically and mentally.”

“Plus you made them.” Hunter adds.

“Correct. Both the wrist cuffs and collar are of my own design and creation.” Tech replies.

They’re talking about me like I’m not even here. Like I’m not currently desperately drooling around Tech’s cock, unable to move or escape their gaze. The thought makes my pussy throb.

“Oh, she’s enjoying this.” Hunter laughs.

“I trust you can smell her arousal.” Tech asks, though it’s not framed as a question.

“Yup.” Hunter answers. “I could smell her in the cockpit like she was in there. It’s stronger than usual.”

“I have observed a number of indicators of her heightened state of arousal myself.” Tech adds.

“Is this what she’s been worrying about?” asks Hunter.

“If by ‘this’, you mean the practice of cock warming that the two of us are currently engaging in, then yes.” Tech replies.

“You’ve just got your dick in her mouth.” Hunter observes bluntly.

“Yes.” replies Tech. “That is the point.”

There’s a rather telling pause and I can just picture the looks that are being exchanged. An arched, tattooed eyebrow is probably being met with a decidedly unimpressed flat stare emanating from behind yellow lenses. Another slip of drool spills from the corner of my stretched mouth and runs down my chin to join the rest of the mess that is covering my face.

Tech shifts and launches into a lecture. There’s probably a finger being raised.

“Cock warming is the practice of placing one's cock in an orifice of one's partner. This can be done via the mouth, rear or vagina, if the penetratee possesses that particular genitalia. The cock is then left inside the partner's orifice where they are to keep it warm. The name speaks for itself. Outside of the basic principle of the act, the parties involved can agree on various additional stipulations, such as how long the penetratee must keep their partner's cock inside them or if they are allowed to move or make noise. I have read numerous accounts where both partners extol the virtues of this practice, describing it as surprisingly peaceful and an excellent way of entering subspace.”

“I’m sure it’s enjoyable, I’ve just never heard of it, that’s all.” Hunter supplies.

“I must admit that I was not overly familiar with the practice myself but it has proved to be a most enjoyable addition to our play thus far.” Tech provides.

I could already tell he was enjoying it, given the harness of his erection currently occupying my mouth. Hearing the verbal confirmation just adds to the feeling of deep satisfaction and submission warming in my chest. Another shiver runs through my body and I can feel more of my saliva pool in my mouth.

“Was there a reason for your interruption of my work?” Tech directs at Hunter in a slightly curt manner.

“That’s not the only thing I’m interrupting” Hunter snarks back.

“Quite.” Tech leaves the implication implicit.

Hunter sighs briefly before adding “Yeah we got a comm from the 369th.”

“Ah. Are they still experiencing difficulty with the Separatist base built into the side of the Markontia Gorge on Bezril IX?” Tech asks, fully aware of the answer already.

“Yeah, they might need our help with their current campaign but nothing’s confirmed yet so we’re on standby for now. If they need us to blast a hole into the Seppie base then we should hear back by the next rotation.” Hunter adds.

“Wrecker will be pleased.” Tech comments.

“I can think of something else that would please Wrecker.” Hunter slyly hints at.

“Wrecker may make use of our shared submissive when it is his turn.” Tech replies swiftly, irascible intent laced through the words, making it crystal clear that I am his right now.

“Additionally, he has made it quite clear that he does not wish to test the limits of her capacity for oral penetration until her gag reflex has improved.” Tech adds.

A slice of shame and disappointment cuts through me. I’ve always had problems with my gag reflex. Lack of experience will do that to you, I guess. I’ve been slowly working on improving it and they’ve all been so gentle and careful and patient with me. I desperately want to be able to deep throat each of them or be face fucked into a wall one day. At the moment though, the best I can manage is the tip of one of their cocks at the back of my mouth and even that still sets the damn thing off sometimes.

Wrecker has been so sweet about it. There is no denying that he is exceptionally well endowed and that his cock is, well, enormous, to put it bluntly. The poor man is well aware of it too. There is nothing I’d love more than to be absolutely impaled on his thick cock, but the first time I saw it I did worry that I’d never be able to fit it in me. I still do but we’re slowly getting there. He’s been so wonderful and understanding of my current abilities and their limits. Wrecker is such a beautiful human to experience pleasure with. He’s so full of joy about the entire thing. I didn’t have a great deal of experience before somehow ending up with all of them and I’d never had a joyful sexual encounter before Wrecker. I didn’t even know it was possible and had burst into tears afterwards. He’d been so alarmed and concerned that he’d inadvertently hurt me but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Thankfully, he’s the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and we’d had a wide-ranging, open and reassuring conversation about sexual experience and intimacy as I lay curled against his chest. I still struggle with tensing up sometimes and Wrecker has been a great boon in getting me more accustomed to preparation. He’s a big proponent of lube and has a whole assortment of different types that we’re slowly working our way through. One or two of his fingers are more than enough to open me up and I could have those big, thick, slicked up digits sliding in and out of me for hours.

And there is nothing quite so wondrous as lying there laughing and kissing and giggling as he fucks my thighs. Wrecker has been very keen to emphasise that there’s more to sex than just penetration and we’ve been exploring some intriguingly varied ways to experience pleasure together. The first time he’d fucked my tits was something else. His oleaginous, lubed cock sliding between my breasts, cupped in his massive hands as his fingers and thumb played with my nipples. When he’d finally exploded all over my chest, neck and face, I don’t think I’d ever been covered in quite so much cum.

Well, at least not until we had that bukkake session. Trying to get cum out of your hair in a sonic is difficult to say the least and Hunter ended up hand washing it out for me. It had been worth it though for the way they had all looked down at me while they pumped their cocks and came all over my obedient, kneeled form, mouth hanging open and tongue out to catch as much as I could.

I’d knelt there afterwards like a statue. Covered in their cum, stained and claimed in their release. Rivets of translucent white slowly running down my skin. I could feel it pool in the hollow of my neck and drip off my nipples. It sounds ridiculous but in that moment I just wished I could exist like that forever, eternally marked as theirs. Just like I wish I could openly and proudly display the marks they leave on my skin, claims bruised into my neck for all to see. They are all such wonderful dominants, each unique in their own approach. I’m eternally thankful that they all chose me to be their submissive. I would happily serve at their feet and allow them to use me as they pleased for the rest of my existence if this damn war wasn’t going on.

I do need to work on having a bit more self preservation though. One of them is bad enough but whenever they end up scheming together, they start coming up with Plans and Ideas. That’s how I then found myself wiping their cum off me with my hands before eating it in front of them like some lewd and licentious spectacle. Being made to finger yourself using the cum of your dominants as lube while they watch is also a whole new level of depravity. I’d had to beg each of them for permission to cum before I’d finally been allowed to finger fuck myself into oblivion.

Wrecker isn’t the only one that is explicitly clear that their boundaries for playing with me are guided by my current abilities. Crosshair steadfastly refuses to even entertain my suggestion of face fucking until I can, in his words, “keep my balls against your chin, doll”. Echo had gone all serious when I had timidly requested to go down on him for the first time. There had been some stern yet heart-felt words about the importance of pacing and not rushing into things or pressuring yourself to try something you’re not ready for. We’d ended up grinding against each other instead, which was just as enjoyable. It meant I got to watch him come undone as I thrust my hips into his groin and then he’d made me straddle his leg and grind myself to completion on his thigh. There is something about the sensation of smooth durasteel gliding under your wet, sensitive pussy and pressing against your clit that is otherworldly. I’ll have to ask Tech if he’s able to shape some kind of toy out of the metal. A durasteel butt plug sounds like an excellent idea.

I still wish I could do more for them and wasn’t trapped in my own body and mind. The discontent and shame at my perceived failures is still there, despite how well I might be managing to warm Tech’s cock with my mouth at the moment. My lips are wrapped around a decent amount of his length and the tip of his cock is fairly close to the back of my mouth but I could always do more and try to get him a little deeper. I take a steadying breath through my nose, will my throat to relax and move to take more of him in.

------

Author’s Note: Tiny bit of a cliffhanger! This is mainly because I wrote this all in a giant keyboard mashing haze with absolutely no thoughts of structure. Going back while editing and trying to figure out where to shove in chapters to break it up has been a bit tricky, so if they’re a tad clunky that’s why.

You’ll see how Tech reacts in Chapter 3, along with some musings on previous sessions with Hunter and Crosshair.

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant

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suzukiblu · 6 months

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OK, so, here are my current theories for wet nurse omegaverse, because I need to tell someone, and obviously you can't comment on anything bc spoilers but also I need to say something before I explode into a million pieces bc it has consumed my brain. I think Kon is from another universe - possibly whatever bought him here is also why Clark can no longer produce milk. another theory about that is that Clark died and so now can't milk.

my next theory is that when Kon presented as an omega, since Supes (possibly?) isn't publically known to be an omega, he was deemed to be a failure and was going to be decommissioned but he managed to escape and wound up in Gotham - this still doesn't explain why he chose the name Caroline. possibly he encountered Tim while he was undercover? Kon was brought in as a John Doe for whatever reason and ended up being a wet nurse? I still think my another universe Kon theory holds the most water

I love hearing theories and hypothesises, haha, but yeah, you're correct, I totally can't answer you on that one. I'm so glad you're into the story enough to be wondering, though! ❤

Though I CAN tell you "Carl" is an alias Kon occasionally used to use in the comics, so the "Caroline" thing wasn't meant to be a Caroline Hill reference, just to have been derived from that. Also the agency definitely just decided to change Carl to "Carly/Caroline" when introing him to clients and the like, because Their Image/fantastical sexism and all.

#meta ecetera #daemoninwhiteround2 #omegaverse

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leftduck9986 · 4 months

Text

The Missing Bridges of The Song is The Clue

Which song? "You know which one," says Shax. The one, the only, A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.

Why is this song The Clue? Because of the gaps - that's right, plural - the missing BRIDGES, specifically these two, as performed by Elsie Carlisle:

youtube

For clarity, I know that I could be incorrectly labeling the song structure, however this is my understanding, having once-upon-a-time performed a barbershop arrangement of it, back when I had no emotional connection to the song and was just there to hear the chords ring. Of course I'm in love with the song now!

My memory of the sheet music began with an Introduction (not performed here: "When true two lovers meet in Mayfair...") Then all stanzas we are familiar with in the Tori Amos recording are the Verses ending with Refrain/Chorus(song title).

Tori Amos' performance includes an Instrumental break - not an Instrumental Verse, but an Instrumental BRIDGE, in place of the real First Bridge. Singing along recently, I found myself adding it back in and making connections, not to 1941, but to the 25 Lazarii miracle:

1st Bridge:

The moon that lingered over London town

Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown

The grandfather clock in the east corner of the bookshop, with the moon dial - it appears to be frowning with the wind-up thingamajig, if that's what it is, which is nothing new, but because the moon dial seems to be stuck in the same approximate "third quarter" position, (even in 1941, though that could be a coincidence), together with the glitching behaviour of the clock hands - this clock/these clocks are simply untrustworthy for most of the time, though by the final episode, both have only just normalised/re-aligned before seeming to jump forward together, for perhaps an entirely different reason to what I'm about to put forward.

I thought another possibility for "frowning" would be if the moon phase was either waxing or waning crescent, whichever presents as a frown in the northern hemisphere's London sky.

Does the turnip become a crescent moon in the opening credits title sequence?

However, I want to believe that The Arrival & 25 Lazarii miracle "happened" on Thursday 31st August 2023, - not a crescent moon at all, but a "blue moon" AND Super Full Moon.

How could he know we two were so in love

The whole darned world seemed up-side-down

Notice the moment everything briefly turns/rotates up-side-down in the opening credits title sequence.

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

What would happen if the world actually turned up-side-down?

Here's a fun video (https://youtu.be/BLEAjyD5ncU?si=hbHh2O7pGUB8Bsfv) discussing/hypothesising what could happen if the axis remained at its current tilt; if the world was simply flipped up-side-down.

I feel "yeah-nah" about that, especially since the display globe in Heaven appears unchanged as Saraqael locates and zooms in on The Plume Of Miraculous Activity. What seems more likely, (where there could be changes that interfere with gravity and stuff around the world's analogue clocks) is:

What Would Happen if the Magnetic North and South Poles Reversed?

A quick search took me to this website, https://www.livescience.com/18426-earth-magnetic-poles-flip.html An interesting read, but here are several quotes that may be relevant to the GO universe:

"… Earth's magnetic field takes between 1,000 and 10,000 years to reverse, and in the process, it greatly diminishes before it re-aligns. "It's not a sudden flip, but a slow process, during which the field strength becomes weak, very probably the field becomes more complex and might show more than two poles for a while, [see image provided by NASA on website] and then builds up in strength and [aligns] in the opposite direction," … "

"… we cannot see or feel the presence of the geomagnetic field now, we most likely would not notice any significant change from a reversal…"

"… Our technology definitely would be in danger, however. Even now, solar storms can damage satellites, cause power outages and interrupt radio communications… "

"… One additional worry is that a weakening and eventual reversal in the field would disorient all those species that rely on geomagnetism for navigation, including bees, salmon, turtles, whales, bacteria and pigeons. There is no scientific consensus on how those creatures would cope…"

"… The reversal might happen, or it might be aborted - Earth is too complex a system for scientists to know which outcome to expect…"

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

Now Furfur says, "Well, well, well! What have we here?"

Maybe some humans, who are like bees, also become disoriented, occasionally appearing to walk back and forth multiple times in the background on Whickber Street.

Maybe poor old Leviathan becomes a little disoriented too. (As well as lonely... go on Crowley, make them a whale friend!)

We've been shown the days following the urgent 25 Lazarii miracle - was there a similar build-up in the days leading up to it? Or with just two poles to reverse it would have all gone unnoticed anyway, unless...

Is Gabriel's presence The Tempest (or the fly with who knows how many things inside), causing a temporary third magnetic pole to form? Could Crowley's lightning bolt have contributed?

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

What about how, in the opening credit title sequence, the world turns up-side-down, but one bridge ALSO joins up with another? Consider the lyrics of the

2nd Bridge:

When dawn came steeling up all gold and blue

Note the approaching dawn over Soho in the title sequence, once the world has righted itself (an aborted magnetic pole reversal?). Then how The Bentley drives away, splashing up water (left behind after a disoriented Leviathan is attracted to a third magnetic pole?). Is this why Crowley and Aziraphale are chilling out together on the roof?

To interrupt our rendezvous

I still remember how you smiled and said,

Was that a dream, or was it true?

Likely how Aziraphale "helps" to decrease human suffering of the mind, "best forget all about it" or in season 1, "you will wake, having had a lovely dream about whatever you like best." Was this his final contribution to the 25 Lazarii miracle? A variation could be not to forget, but to remember whatever happened during the 25 Lazarii miracle as a dream - that would be good news for Nina and Maggie, if you believe the image on their vintage playlist is of a scene already filmed.

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

In season 2 episode 2, "present day", Aziraphale is deep in thought, perhaps reflecting on the urgent miracle from the night before, as he glances up and out of the bookshops' North-West front window.

Even though the east-corner clock reads thirty-five past ten, three bells sound - is that coming from the west-corner clock? (making it a "striking clock" rather than a "chiming/tubular bells clock"?) These sound exactly like the three bells Anathema acknowledges before telling Adam that she needs to get "back to work."

Aziraphale then returns to his shop-front desk to resume reading from an open pile of 3-4 books nestled into each others' spines. I wonder if they are books on science, on geomagnetism.

Please remember, DO NOT ASK OR TAG NEIL GAIMAN ON FAN THEORY.

#The Missing Bridges of The Song is The Clue #Good Omens 2 #Good Omens 2 Theory #Good Omens 2 Opening Title Sequence #A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square #Elsie Carlisle #geomagnetism in the Good Omens universe #a temporary 3rd magnetic pole?#If you haven"t yet studied a close up image of what Saraqael sees surrounding The Plume of Miraculous Activity do it NOW

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thesherrinfordfacility · 8 months

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Greetings! I’m a big fan of your metas, and as there’s been something niggling at me, I thought I would ask your opinion. Maybe you’ve mentioned this (or someone else has and I’ve just missed it because admittedly my feed is pretty dedicated to to our ineffable duo) but… something is off about Maggie to me, and has been since my first watch through. First off, her misspelling of “urgency” in her note. Then the discussion she and Nina have in the coffee shop and how she says “I wasn’t that kind of teenager”, that she’d never wanted to drink, and of course the “no judgement” line attached to this. And there may be more inbetween, but the other one that comes to mind is a big one, and it’s after the ball when the demons are at the door and she’s asking Aziraphale what’s going on. He tries to miracle away her concerns (twice) and it doesn’t seem to work on her, and she asks him if he’s trying to hypnotize her (but the miracle sound is THERE, he’s not doing it wrong, it’s just not working on her)… So why?? Her misspelling would lead one to wonder if she is actually a demon (are some escaping and hiding on earth? Why is hell so understaffed?) But she seems for all intents and purposes such a GOOD, sweet person and very not like any of the other demons we see (except Crowley), and wouldn’t he be able to sense her besides? Or is she perhaps an Angel, though wouldn’t Aziraphale then be able to sense that about her? Or maybe she’s God? She’s gotta be something and it’s driving me nuts lol

Interested to hear your thoughts if you have any on this. There are definitely some things we are missing in this season (I am currently subscribed to the tactical-turtleneck theory of Crowley Is Up To Something We Haven’t Seen Yet). Maybe it’s just another red herring, and she’s actually just a really good, kind human to show as a foil against prickly, jaded Nina, but it’s definitely doing it’s job of distracting me!

hi @therachan!!!✨ thank you for the kind words, i appreciate it!💕 and please always feel free to ask my opinion, I'll always do my best to give a coherent one!!!

oooooookay so i kinda look at maggie-theory from two angles, because i think both have equal weight but from different perspectives:

maggie may well just be human! she's a mirror of both of them (i kinda see her as mirroring aziraphale in personality, crowley in action/sentiment - and nina vice versa), so thematically her moments that we've picked up as being peculiar or a bit uncanny-valley may well just be her emulating aziraphale, who this season is particularly shown in a little more of a borderline-eldritch light. it may just be this, full-stop, and i could get on board with that, 100%.

however, i love speculating on things and questioning Everything in this story so, alternatively, let's hypothesise that maggie is in-fact not human.

i think it's fair to say that early-doors, theories around maggie primarily centred around the 'urgency' misspelling. this could be a red herring in the respect of 'hey, she just spelt something wrong, there's no issue in that!'. or it could be, given the emphasis placed on it, and the whole less-than-stellar spelling most demons seem to display, that maggie is a demon. both these explanations are very occam's razor, but i feel like sometimes GO either narratively had a very, very simple explanation that ultimately means nothing (and yet everything) in the grand scheme of things (ie maggie is just human - somewhat pratchett-esque), or there is another more subtle/'clever' explanation that only makes sense in retrospect - the 'aha!' explanation.

so this is where i think maggie might be, or have been, an angel. i did a speculative post where i listed a couple of examples that immediately sprang to mind, so i won't go over them again, but there are definitely more times where she's a bit... not quite right? like i said - uncanny-valley. the thing that's kinda supported that maybe she's an angel is this ask of neil's, where he doesn't answer the question on a replacement angel for aziraphale (on one hand, he might have just not answered the question bc the other bit 'took over', so to speak, and the non-answer is completely innocuous... but equally might have purposefully not answered it as to not bring attention to it re: spoilers. who knows!)

in terms of her motives? idk. the above speculation kinda goes on the view that she might have gotten Got by metatron, same as muriel, made an escape from heaven itself like gabriel, but ultimately had her memory wiped. alternatively, though (and im just spitballing here):

initially sent down to earth by heaven to replace aziraphale, and is the new 'guardian of earth' - i think this is unlikely, there is too much humanness to her that her being knowingly an angel would feel a bit... jumping-the-shark, even if the concept is true on a very loose basis

sent to earth by metatron as a spy/to fuck shit up, but ultimately falls for nina (who, btw, im inclined to believe is actually human, but even then i feel like might have a little something something going on) - this is more likely to me, but i think still isn't quite on the money? she doesn't come across at all as having nefarious intent, not to me anyway

going on the possibility that saraqael is a Goodie, metatron might have sent maggie down to spy/separate the Boys, but saraqael did a little jiggery-pokery whilst she was en-route, and wiped her memory to prevent anything bad happening - this is one of my more favourite possibilities, it ties in quite a few plot points/devices that have cropped up in s2

maggie was an angel that Crossed The Line in heaven, threatened with demotion etc, but essentially legged it like gabriel did and 'fell', but to earth. came to earth, no memories, but ultimately a completely innocent party - the other of my favourite possibilities tbh, but then again, a fair number of loopholes in how this would have gone unnoticed etc... but poetically, the fact that a fair number of angels have been Asking Questions, behind the scenes? could be cool

she fell but fell to human, end of - a bit far-fetched, i think.

there are a couple of things off the top of my head that are issues with any number of these possibilities; namely, aziraphale. he knew her great-grandmother, her shop was a piece of his originally, and he would have been able to sense her. i have a further couple of thoughts on this that aren't particularly coherent, but stick with me:

Something About Bees - he sees her as a human, she has a similar personality to him, and is fairly harmless by all accounts. he wouldn't necessarily see her as a threat. he would automatically trust her (compared to the other angels, which he senses immediately - and, btw, seems shocked that she can't), and wouldnt think to look further into anything

Power - she seems taken in by aziraphale's weird god-complex display at the ball in ep5 - somewhat aware that something's weird, but needed nina to fully wake her up. it stands to reason that if her backstory is a fiction, that aziraphale would be taken in by her magic-weaving in kind. so, how true is the 'memory' of her grandmother etc?

im sure there are other things to note on in the We Need To Talk About Maggie theory, but those are my initial, convoluted thoughts at the moment!✨💕

#We Need To Talk About Maggie #dont think she's god tho #good omens #ask #we need to talk about maggie theory #s3 narrative spec #memory wipe theory #metatron spec #saraqael spec

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plural-affirmations · 7 months

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Hi again,

Didn't know about that with "core", sorry. Was just looking through pluralpedia and felt that it probably described my/our experiences.

Stressgenic is definitely interesting, and absolutely worth considering. I'm currently hypothesising that stress was more of a final push than a source outright, particularly considering the lengthy duration of that feeling I still can't describe, but am not ready to put any label on any of this just yet. (Also not sure if those are actually distinct things, still not entirely certain on all the words lol)

Have spent the day reading pluralpedia (and also the daemon page, thanks @coyotepawsteps), and it's all been very interesting and just a bit much, lol. Definitely need to follow my headmates' advice to take it a bit slower. Found a couple interesting things regardless (Emotion sharing in particular stands out, since it's something we've definitely experienced and in fact had our own word for).

Speaking of taking things slower, have been trying to pay equal attention to all three of them and it's just too much, so we've agreed that I'll just focus on one of them (at a time) for the most part. The others are still there, just more in the background. I feel a bit like a jerk for it, despite them insisting that it's fine.

Also just generally wishing I could hug my headmates, or just generally do more things with them. Do you have any recommendations for things to do with headmates? Have tried doing some puzzles together but I ended up being way too dominant, so need more practice I guess lol.

Sorry if this one's a bit of a mess, thanks for reading either way. Hope y'all are doing well :)

-⚪🐉

(ps. the previous post wasn't tagged with "#⚪🐉 anon" unlike the one before that - not an important detail, but just smth that stood out to me and I felt the need to mention)

Agh, I wasn't trying to say it's inherently a bad term, my apologies >_< Plenty of systems use the term "core", we just personally don't think it's applicable to the traditional CDD system framework... but if you didn't develop a CDD in childhood, then I think it's totally fine to use! And anyways, like I said, that's just my personal opinion, you're free to form your own! /gen

I do actually have a list of bonding activities, not sure if you've seen it yet...? I'll post it just in case!

[ID in alt text]

I hope this helps some! If not these activities specifically, then they might spark some ideas for something else!

I wish you luck!

(P.S.: I fixed the tag lol)

🖤💜💙💚💛

#answered #not a request #plural advice #⚪🐉 anon

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blamemma · 2 years

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Top 5 Maxiel headcanons you've come up with

this is going under the cut because it got waaayyy too long to quickly (also this very quickly divulged into headcanons vs. au's oops sorry) (also that first one i could really expand more on if i had any brain power whizzing through my head today)

max is obsessed with daniels tattoos but not in the sense of them being sexy and hot (he likes them also in that way, plz keep writing it into fics xx ) but in an appreciation way....i truly believe max would love museums and art galleries (more traditional than new wave kinda ones, at those he'd be like 'but daniel, i could easily make that, why is it £1,000,000)....idea stems from his love of geography and maps and history but I can honestly see him wandering around the national portrait gallery or the rijksmuseum and admiring these portraits and statues of historical figures and just spouting his facts that he somehow knows and enquiring about how they were made...LIKE SORRY imagine max with one of those lil headset things with the really bad headphones which are often so tiny they fit over no ones head that you get and you type the number in that corresponds to the art you're currently looking at and it tells you all about it hE'D LOVE IT (i think idk i'm hypothesising about a man i dont know) i just think max likes the slower things in life from what he says in his interviews and stuff and I think if he knew he could just wander around and not be noticed and take his time admiring things...he would..sO anyway back to the tattoos got a bit distracted I think Max likes Daniel's tattoos because they're all different...you've got his massive thigh tattoo which is traditional/neo-classical style full of colour and bright and has dedications to family and home...and then you've got text ones but a lot of them are done in different fonts, some more minimalist than others and then you've got the astronaut and the cupid which so obviously have stories behind them and max would love to be told those stories, repeatedly, never tires of hearing daniel explain his tattoos to him and i think he just likes that daniel has art all over him that HE gets to admire....when daniel gets new ones he sits and shows max the designs and asks what he thinks (same with his merch) and max is just straight-up honest and helps daniel tweak things

2. an ode to mine and ray's single dad daniel au but its truly one of the things i now think about most often because its loving someone and their someone!! knowing that loving them means loving their child and their family and that not being a problem!! for max, that is so easy, because it's daniel's child, he loves daniel (even though he doesn't really realise it yet) and so it is easy to love henry??! max literally does not second guess it all whereas daniel is panicking, has seen max and henry get along since he first introduced them (henry really hasn't known a life without max also being there) but adding this extra dimension, where max is something more to him, a partner/lover, and therefore something else to henry terrifies him - he backs out of taking the next step with max SO often because he would rather continue to get these little family moments of him max and henry which he can watch over and pretend they're a real family than take a risk on a relationship with max and truly ruin it and leave henry without max and ultimately leave himself without max!! it's about your priorities as a parent and sometimes thinking you're making the best decision when ur not!!

3. daniel is obsessed with max...u literally just have to refer to the countless interviews where he mentions him, unprovoked, and the way his face lights up!! loves to worship his body, loves seeing how it has changed....THE THESIS (thank you @fourmula1 for ur service)....and i obviously think max is also obsessed with daniel....but its just different idk words are evading me but like daniel knew max as a teenager as a spritely 17 year old and he's now seeing him as a man at 25 winning two world championships already??!?!!?? eyah there's gotta be a bit of admiration and obsession.

4. things got frosty in the middle part of this season between them both because they can't communicate. daniel will hide behind jokes, often self-depreciating, when times get realllyyy tough, and max just wants honesty. wants daniel to lay his cards on the table and tell max how he feels. wants to see daniel punch a wall if that will make him feel better. and so they just....weren't talking....because anytime max asked, he just wouldn't get the truth and then when he'd call daniel out on it daniel would get defensive....i dont think max would want to help with the situation... they know their boundaries when it comes to racing and their teams and what they can and can't say to each other...but I think essentially what happened was just a breakdown in communication and max just feeling like he was being left on the sidelines with a depressed bf who he didn't know how to help...they regressed for a little bit....spent time apart....daniel went to montana and then perth...max spent time in monaco with his friends, rode jet skis, partied etc. they missed each other, they pined for each other, they got advice off their friends, they kissed they talked now they're ok again etc etc. and daniel knows that he CAN tell max anything and max will listen or give advice, whatever daniel wants, but he just needs to know

5. ...they're both vers... like what you like read what you wanna read enjoy what you enjoy we're all writing and reading about these men for our own enjoyment and I also like reading different people's takes on either/or... BUT i just think sometimes a man needs to fuck and sometimes he needs to be fucked and there's different reasons why and its whatever the moment calls for but we go back to number 3 and the obsession daniel has with how max has changed and its just another way for him to enjoy and obsess over this change in max....i do think they would have started with daniel topping but as max becomes more confident in his skin and LOVES what daniel does to him he wants to give daniel the same....max lOVES to make people happy, daniel fucking him makes him so happy and content and he knows that makes daniel happy to but he wants to try it the other way, try something new etc etc. it's about them pleasing each other at the end of the day and just being able to serve each others needs....

#asks #5 things game #this is a mess sorry #i have done 4 things on my list this was my reward #dr #mv #maxiel

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brainrawt · 1 year

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what ep do you think the jordayla love confession will be in and how do you anticipate it going down

I hypothesise very little about Jordayla and I'm sure I'd be wrong every time— throughout s5 they’ve been constantly surprising me!

I’m hearing the Twitter rumblings that it’s going to be 5x14.

We have always known Jordan to be extremely forthcoming and he is extra appreciative of her right now, so I think it’s shaping up to be him saying it first, but personally I have always been team Layla. I just love their love story from her POV.

I could see it being as simple and natural and sweet as them just being together and just saying it –not a big deal, even. Watching them the last few episodes, it could’ve fit in any of their scenes!

By not a big deal, I mean obviously a very big deal to me.

The writers are so careful with Jordayla and care for them so much. They literally made up a red carpet plot just so Jordayla could get a pretty outfit and backdrop for their second kiss. (Having typed that, I just realised we’re getting the same for 5x14 👀)

And they’ve almost been avoiding the L-word (Do you have feelings for me?”/ “The guy I have feelings for…”/“Does she know you’re crushing on her brother?) in a way that’s so intentional. Generally in teen dramas, “I love you”s come very quickly. Spencer realised his feelings for Olivia for the first time ever, and immediately said it. When Jordan took Simone on the field, he said it. Both of these were in the first confessions. Whereas with Jordayla, in their first confession, Jordan said “I have feelings for you, Layla.” They have paced it so that LOVE is its own stage for them, so it's really going to mean something of its own.

That’s the only thing making me think it’s not coming just yet. Maybe the writers have ticked off “gone public” as the current relationship stage and are holding onto the love confessions a little bit longer. But how much more in love could they be?!

What a mess this post was. I guess my answer is no idea but I trust the writers and am looking forward to it so much!

#jordayla #jordan baker #layla keating #all american

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trancetales · 11 months

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Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday 🎉

I have to ask about ants and other insects in your worlds, obviously. I'm 99% sure you have some form of interesting or magical insects somewhere

Happy WBW!

So when I first started working on The Veiled World, I remember telling myself "this is going to be a regular world, its just going to be humans, but with magic, nothing overtly fantasy. Everything will be like in the real world, but magic happens to be there". Veil itself as a continent is intended to be quite analagous to Europe in a few ways, so I always figured that fauna would be regular things, even down to those little old insects. Now, this is past tense - as things developed, although this remained true for the world itself on a natural level, that is not true for the universe itself. In short, some fissures to another place started appearing, and not-so-natural creatures lived there. And then before long, started to live in both. So although I'm sure I could go on and on about European species of ant, and how they're basically the same as real life, instead I'm going to talk about one of those otherworld species.

Manaleeches are a species of insect that is native to Reftis, "the Mana Realm", which also happens to be where mana is from. Because of this, any creature that comes through from there is highly attuned to mana, which presents itself in a wide array of ways in different creatures. Human attunement, for instance, allows for control of mana to shape it into magic. Mana is also tied to life itself - in most cases. Manaleeches on the other hand, are insectoid creatures that rely on a host's mana supply, on an inability to retain it themselves. There are a few subspecies, each with different traits while attached to a host, but they all rely on the same means. They will find a host, and will attach themselves, usually digging into a bloodstream where possible with their jagged tails, using their six legs to dig into the flesh firmly. It can be very dangerous to forcibly remove one because of this, as it can rip open a large wound, often at a major blood vessel. To explain the specifics, here's their entry in "The Dangers of Reftis: A Lexicon", a record logging all known creatures that are native to Reftis:

"Manaleeches are widely considered to be one of the more concerning and distressing fiends that we are aware of at the time of writing, both for what they do, and for what we can hypothesise based on their capabilities. Small creatures though they may be, they possess a disturbing ability to latch to a host, with the seeming intention of leeching the prey’s mana. Were this all they were capable of, they would be a nuisance or a pest, but while a Manaleech is latched to a host, they exert a level of control over the host by manipulating them through currently uncertain means. Varying by case, Manaleeches have been reported to exert wildly varying levels of control on their hosts, from minor suggestion to seemingly complete control.

Currently there are three known species of Manaleech: Influencer, Dominator, and Ravager. All three can vary in size, but the Influencer is the smallest at a maximum size of about the average palm. Ravagers are often much bigger, usually at least the size of a full hand-span. The larger Ravagers are often fatal to their host, due to the amount they take from their host. Dominators can exert complete control over their host through influencing their mana, usually using the body to find the next host. Meanwhile, Influencers are mostly harmless, they take a small enough of the host's mana that they will never become seriously ill, and they only exert persuasion onto their host. If you happen to notice anyone you know change their behaviours, becoming highly focused on self-preservation and avoiding danger to an unusual degree, they might just have a parasitic Influencer on board.

#worldbuilding wednesday #thanks for the ask!#🌓The Veiled World🌗#Trance's Tales #its not like I focused on these because they're the only insectoid creatures I've come up with #They are however the only insectoid creatures I've come up with #cw: insects

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gaylactic-fire · 1 year

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Pocket

Life's hard when you're pocket sized. In particular, travelling around is a pain the ass (or foot rather) and what feels like long treks are often times just the equivalent of a five minute walk in Link's larger form. Of course, the hero gets tired, but he usually suppresses his aches and heavy limbs; focusing first and foremost on the task of freeing Zelda from her prison of stone. Though some days the temptation of snuggling up in some nice corner are just far too great.

"Hey!" Ezlo croaks "Link quit getting cozy up there! We have a dungeon to get to!" Currently the old hat had been placed to the side while Link had clambered atop a rock covered in moss. Yes, as it turns out moss was a suitable substitute for a mattress, just as Link hypothesised. "Gimme five minutes..." the hero mumbles, allowing himself to nestle deeper into the greenery.

Ezlo thinks about scolding him more, though after a moment's thought he decides to hold his tongue. Link's still a child, afterall. He can't be expected to take everything in his stride. Especially under these circumstances. Sighing, the hat resigns himself to this unexpected break. Five minutes won't hurt.

#askbox #three paragraph fics #Ezlo is an s tier companion #minish cap #my writing

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thickness-protection-program · 2 years

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I'm geeking out for that Boötes Void anon's dabbling in fun conspiracy theories. Especially about space!

They're ridiculous but I like to humour them every now and then. Like the idea that the moon was built by aliens because it's kind of an anomally that the moon exists in the way it does. (It's finally something about aliens that isn't the "indigenous people couldn't have built this, they would've needed higher intelligence for that! Therefore, MUST'VE been aliens" BS.)

Current limitations in our depth of higher scientific knowledge are probably the reason we can't fully explain why allegedly:

The moon of a planet the size of ours should be about 40 miles long, but our moon is somehow 2000.

There are shadow structures on the surface that supposedly don't make much sense - that are (according to this theory) monoliths or things created on the moon as sorts of beacons or markers. - I think it's probably just people misinterpreting regular degular old shadows

Seismic testing on the moon shows it takes up approximately 2% of the earth's volume which is waaaaay less than it should. This implies that the moon is hollow and possibly a surveillance base of some kind and that maybe life on earth is like an experiment - the way human scientists would take a species of bugs and create different conditions for them to see what happens, etc and so forth..

Some theorists go farther and suggest that earth is a prison for our species (like what did we do tho?) and every attempt to escape that goes too far is thwarted - that's why space exploration and terra forming on other planets is so difficult to progress (cool idea for a comic/webtoon tho)

The absurdity of the theory gives the idea that there is not enough cause to question what we know about the moon BUT maybe the there are anomalies that are actually weird enough to warrant deeper wonder about what exactly we're missing in the equation.

Probably not aliens 😂 but stuff where professionals are justified in exploring more scientifically-minded alternate theories of how physics/gravity/matter works. In a way scientists aren't super different from conspiracy theorists in that they see patterns and hypothesise about what they mean. So there's probably a lot of overlap when it comes to fields where we can't yet quantifiably prove the existence of certain forces, we can only observe their effects and take a guess on what is most likely the truth until we're able to get more confirming or disprovikg information. It's just that professionals' "guesses" are (hopefully) much more educated. Same with philosophy, and the creation of myths...like it's all the same act done through different lenses, man 🥴 we see things and we're like "lol wut? who did this??? 😂"

Do you have any particularly silly/fascinating theories about space that you like?

Hmm I'd be lying if I said I never entertained the thought of there being complex civilized life on the moon. Riddle me this. The moon is tidally locked, so ever since you were born and your mother and your mother's mother and so on were born, we've all seen the exact same side of the moon. WHAT IF there is a type 2 civilization living on the moon and they've locked it in place bc they don't want us seeing what goes on on the other side 👀 and y'know how many of us see a face in the moon? What if that's them like sending us a trolling face ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I don't know many other cooky space conspiracies but I also like to believe that the ringularity of a spinning black hole is a worm hole

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hematomes · 2 years

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Spoilers for AlHaitham's part

The knowledge farming had me ngl cus I was so stumped on what the poor students have that they needed. I don't really see how a new god could help them fix Irminsul (if that's even a thought of th grand sage's mind) I hypothesise that Dottore's gonna take the Gnosis pieces and make Scaramouche go mad and destroy the Akademiya instead??? Or completely reprogram him to escape Sumeru and deliver the package. Or maybe the sages will try and make Scara to be their own god of knowledge as if they have grown tired of missing Rukkhadevata and want a proper god of wisdom????

Idk I'm just going on a tangent cus I for the life of me don't know what the sages intend to do here

i think it's more about missing their god and therefore creating an even more idealized version of it, to the point of unhealthy obsession

sumeru's arc is kinda focused on the process of mourning and how fucked up it can be if not handled correctly. ultimately they aren't thinking rationally imo, they're just reminiscing a past they weren't even a part of, which is even worse in a way bc the akademiya is really cultivating this idea that rhukkadevata was the perfect archon, and has been cultivating this idea for the past 500 years. so it's been ingrained in the current generation's (and a good chunk of their ancestors as well) mind since they were kids.

irminsul's withering does apparently come from forbidden, godly knowledge, so perhaps they're convinced an all-knowing god could fix it the same way rhukkadevata did, to some extent. and since they'd be the creators of this one and have the formula, even if the god dies in the process they can just make another one

dottore is likely planning to fuck them up once he's done with them. they're just tools for him to achieve his own goal, which was foreshadowed in the pale flame set:

"If your great nation can furnish me with sufficient resources and allow ample time, I could manufacture even that which you would call a god."

the god he's trying to create with scara obviously isn't for the akademiya, but who knows whether it's for snezhnaya or merely a way to satisfy dottore's very VISIBLE god complex. i don't think we know enough abt him to tell, tbh

what is more curious to me is scaramouche cooperating with him even tho he cut ties with the fatui, and despite everything dottore's done to him. i know the cutscene basically answers it with how he's feeling, but he's taking such a high risk by "trusting" dottore, and that's weird to me. scaramouche is many things, but he's not a dumbass, and i don't think dottore's gonna let him roam freely if the experiment is a success

it's also interesting how knowledge is perceived in teyvat, and how it ended up killing so many people (frequently entire nations, too).

anyway i need answers and 3.2 is gonna be so fucking lit. can't wait to see scara's last arc and robot cheeks

#— answered #— nonnie #genshin 3.1 spoilers #genshin spoilers #genshin impact spoilers

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draconesmundi · 2 years

Text

Examples of Species Reshuffling between drafts!

I was going to go through my drafts and do a complete breakdown, but got bored part-way through, so I apologise that this list only covers a few groups, but if you're curious on how species-shuffling goes down, here's a taste below the cut:

Quick breakdown of 51k word Old Draft vs Current Draft (at 25k, will be 80k one day)

Firedrakes

Old Draft: ‘Firedrake’ wasn’t specifically a concept, but the ‘firedrake family’ was split into winged firebreathers and into ‘hydra/multi headed’ dragons. The firedrakes were the smok (most firedrakes were named ‘smok’ whether or not smok was the local word for ‘dragon’) and zmey (after talking to some Russian people I found this name may not be best for Russian firedrakes), the hydra dragons were the boitatá and bullar – those familiar with mythology will be raising some eyebrows as m’boitatá being a ‘hydra’ here, and it’s because I lumped a lot of different mythology into one dragon – this was severely uncool of me – so the m’boitatá was somehow entangled with Ihuaivulu, guardian of Mapu Vilu in Mapuche mythology. As a multi-headed serpent-dog he qualified as a ‘hydra’ – did I do the same nonsensical lumping for Cerberus, a multi-headed serpent dog in Greek mythology? Nope! Cannot remember why I made this decision!

New Draft: the firedrakes are the Common Firedrake, the Viridian Firedrake and the Glitterdrake. The Common Firedrake has some subspecies (Welsh ddraig goch, Polish smok, and the bog standard western firedrake), as does the Viridian Firedrake (Greek hydra, Belarussian smok, Eastern European bullar, Russian chudo-zmeya, Eastern European hala), and the glitterdrake is also split into subspecies but this isn’t to do with mythology, it’s just for cosmetic reasons (red ones, purple ones, blue ones, green ones etc.). The lumping of dragons makes sense to me, I may be persuaded to do a whole chapter per subspecies, but I’m keen to see if this reads better as it is (…and ‘as it is’ is half written, OOPS). The concept of ‘hydra’ dragons is gone, as all firedrakes have ‘hydra’ behaviour (carrying young on their back like extra ‘heads’). M’boitatá is now a subspecies of flaming serpent.

Long and Azhi

Old Draft: Ryu, Rong, Yong, Tianlong, Shenlong (with a Qinglong subspecies), Dilong, Fucanglong, Druk, Azidaja (with Vishap subspecies), Temple Dragon (domestic?). Tianlong, Shenlong, Dilong and Fucanglong are often talked about as distinct types of dragon – Celestial, Spiritual, Earth Dragon and a dragon of hidden treasures, underground. Sometimes it is a coiling dragon. However, further prodding around lead me to believe that these dragons are actually life stages – as there is a popular mythology about Long being born as coiling serpents, then later growing horns and wings and ascending to heaven, and sometimes the four life stages of dragon line up with the four types of dragon, so I am inclined to interpret them that way.

New Draft: I’ve split the ‘Long’ group into dragons based on West Asian mythology and dragons based on East Asian mythology – the Azi group contains Azhdar, Nahang and Vishap (with subspecies Georgian Gveleshapi and Armenian Vishap). The Long group contains the Yellow Dragon (Huanglong), the Azure Dragon/Azure Yong, the Ryu (with subspecies for Honshu, Hokkaido and Ryukoko), the Rong, the Dancing Naga and the Druk. All the mythology from the previous draft was translated into the new draft, the Tianlong/Shenlong/Dilong and Fucanglong stuff has been incorporated into the Azure Dragon chapter. The Temple Dragon/domesticated Long has been removed from this draft, as I don’t actually want domestic dragons anymore (my dragons are very crocodile-like, I don’t want to hypothesise on how to domesticate crocodiles), and the dancing naga is a new dragon, based on Lunar New Year puppet designs and on bright pink dragon fruit.

Wyverns

Old Draft: Voivre (name for all green wyverns – I don’t think giving all green wyverns from all over European mythology a French name was a good idea), tatsu, balinese naga. Very short list!

New Draft: Green Wyvern (includes vouivre, vibria, Saint George’s dragon, Mordiford Wyvern, African wyvern etc.), tatsu, Balinese naga, Zilant, Grey Wyvern (also includes ice dragons), Forest Dragon and maybe a Red Wyvern as well but I’m still gathering ideas for that (can’t just base it on some illustrations from Christian mythology, I want More to this dragon. If I can’t find more, forget the red wyvern was ever mentioned).

Cockatrices

Old Draft: Aitvaras, Cockatrice (includes basilisk)

New Draft: Glowtail (new, more inclusive, includes aitvaras, gandaspati, glühschwanz and verechelen, among some others I may have forgotten) and Cockatrice

A lot of these are just creative choices - this is a word of fiction, not an encyclopedia of dragon lore. While I am trying to keep this accurate to mythology, I am allowed to make groupings for my fictional dragon book if it makes sense to me - so lumping all the 'dragons with glowing tails' into 'glowtails' makes sense to me, despite gandaspati from Indonesia sharing no folklore with the glühschwanz from Germany. I have pointed out where I've made dumb mistakes in a previous draft, but have not done so for my current draft, as I am currently feeling happy about the current draft.

#Dracones Mundi #Writing

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