#drills work Great if you do them! its just some people refuse to do them so of course they wouldnt work if you arent doing them

[rigelmejo]

The only language studying advice I’ve got that matters much, as in isn’t take or leave (because most advice really depends on the person and their preferences for how to study), is this:

if you study for enough cumulative hours, and are regularly spending study time on some new material that is requiring you to learn something (compared to picking 1 study material and reviewing it but never ever moving onto a new material with unknowns you must learn), you will make progress. 

Most people, eventually, will move onto studying something regularly challenging them with new material to learn. Usually when they realize they weren’t learning anything new long enough. (I’m a perfectionist so I perhaps realize slower than some people when I’m reviewing material to the point of refusing to move onto new challenging material that would provide more to new stuff to learn). So for the most part, as long as you just study Enough Hours, you will eventually make progress. 

There’s no fancy perfect or ‘better’ study method. Maybe there is for you personally. So it could be fun to explore various study methods. But in the end it mostly comes down to time spent studying. So WHATEVER study methods are ones you can do, and keep getting yourself to do, are the BEST ones for you to make progress with. (And its fine to change study methods if it gets you to KEEP studying). Because in the end, its going to be hundreds or thousands of hours you just need to spend reviewing what you’ve learned by practicing with it, and studying new stuff to increase what you know.

People like to argue sometimes that textbook study is best, or classroom study, or tutors, or immersion, flashcards, mnemonics, context learning, drills, audio lessons, etc. Pick whatever you can stick to, change it if you realize now you can get yourself to Do something else easier. If textbooks are something you get yourself to do, then do them. If you refuse to open textbooks you buy, then use something you WILL use more often. Whatever you pick will work if you put in the study hours. 

TLDR: the best study methods for YOU are the ones you will do, because the amount of total study time you put in is the biggest thing influencing if you make progress. 

Don’t worry too much about if your study method is perfect or if another would be ‘better.’ If you feel like switching it up, have fun. If you feel a method you’d hate looks effective, if you won’t do it then it wouldn’t be effective anyway.

*Note: if you have perfectionist tendencies or tend to stick to trying to master current materials (my worst tendency), my personal suggestion is maybe try to make sure 50% of your study time is spent on something containing Something new and challenging. To make sure you’re regularly making some progress in learning new material. (Examples: if you have read a graded reader then listening to the audiobook would provide at least 1 new thing to challenge yourself and learn - listening skills of those words you read, if you find a new novel chapter with mostly known words but a few new ones - it has some new words to learn and new sentences combinations of words you know, if you are listening to review of something you entirely know and can comprehend in listening then consider trying to shadow the audio so you can challenge yourself with new pronunciation practice, and of course stuff like reading a book/watching a show with a bunch of new words or having a conversation in a new topic would contain new challenging material to learn). 

#rant #90% of reddit language forums drama comes down to the arguement of what works 'best' #in reality most people who fail to learn a language fail because they give up before they put 500 hours - 2500 hours into it #so the most important factor of if you will succeed if if you will simply KEEP studying #so pick whatever you'll keep doing! #classrooms/tutors work well for people who like to be held accountable by a teacher #learning by context works well for me because it requires me to run into new material to learn and lets me learn by Doing which is what i #personally prefer. audio lessons work GREAT if you listen to stuff a lot while commuting/exercising #drills work Great if you do them! its just some people refuse to do them so of course they wouldnt work if you arent doing them #learning by reading works but only if you WILL read the amount it requires #and i only mention the *must regularly study something new* part #because as a perfectionist. in japanese i literally reviewed 300 kanji for TWO YEARS STRAIGHT refusing to study anything else out of fear #i wasnt prepared for ANYTHING else until i MASTERED the 300 basic kanji #so u know what happened? i only learned the 300 kanji. nothing else. in tons of hours. in at LEAST 700 hours of study #in retrospect. i know i could have learned at least 2000 words. at least 1000 kanji. at least basic reading ability with a dictionary #in 700 hours. if i had actually regularly been studying new challenging material as at least 50% of my study time #so as a person with perfectionist tendencies. i personally need 50% or more of all study time to always have SOME new content to learn

[insane-brit]

Royalty (Ch. 1)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulmate!fem!reader

Part links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Tags/warnings: Dialogue, slow burn, dark story/themes, enemies to lovers (or maybe just enemies. who knows), spoilers for Mugen Train Arc, slight spoilers for Entertainment District Arc, slight jealousy, talks of death, worry, anxiety, past memory, some pain, masking worry with optimism. 

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love on the Prologue. I am excited to continue this story and feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters. This story will be a slow burn as I don’t want to rush it.

Also, I plan to stray from the canon story as this is a fanfic and AU, but will loosely have parts of the canon story incorporated.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count: 2.5K

“That little girl is not even 8 yet! She shouldn’t be feeling this way Sakonji!” The older woman whispered.

“I know, but there’s not much you can do.”

“Not much I can do? Well, there must be something! I’m not going to stand idly by and watch my granddaughter’s mind deteriorate!”

Hina’s eyes drilled into the angry red mask. She was at a loss, and no one knew how to aid her. There weren’t many people she could go to, much less that she trusted, but out of anyone she thought Urokodaki would have something for her.

“What do you expect me to do Hina? Call upon the spirits and command them to give her a bond? I understand that this is devastating, but that is not how this works.”

The lantern burned low in the hut. A mere hour or two of fuel left before it would cast the room into darkness. The two adults sat next to each other, and farther in front of them, a little girl lay on a dark futon seemingly sound asleep. A lighter-colored blanket covered her form up to her neck, her back facing them. Hina lowered her head to her hand, palm raised to cover her eyes.

“Don’t take me for an idiot. I just don’t know what to do. How do I explain to her that she may never receive a thread?”

Urokodaki remained silent looking at the sleeping child. Turning his head barely to look at the woman.

“You be direct. False truths will only cause more pain in the end.”

She took a sharp breath in, letting the hand fall from her face and onto her lap with a faint smack. “You’re telling me what I don’t want to hear.”

“I know, but you already knew what I was going to say. Now it’s up to you to inform her. I refuse to be the one to do so.”

She paused, looking at her granddaughter before nodding her head.  

He gently put his hand on her back, an attempt at consolation. “Get some rest. You traveled a long way and need your energy for the journey home.” He stood up, walking over to the door before turning to look at her sitting form. “I won't be long. Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

Hina lightly scoffed at his remark, rolling her eyes as he closed the door softly behind him. She scooted over to the little girl, leaning down and placing a kiss on the side of her head.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry fate has treated you this way,” She brushed some hair away from the girl’s face. “But I know in my heart you’ll do great things. Soul tie or not.”

Hina turned over, snuffing the lantern out before laying down herself. Unbeknownst to her, her granddaughter opened her eyes, gazing at what little she could see of the wooden walls. Her eyes were dull as the conversation between Urokodaki, and her grandmother circled in her mind. May never get one? Why? Did she do something wrong? Did-

“Hey… are you even listening to me?”

A hand waved in front of her face, knocking her from her stupor. Startled, she whipped her head to gaze at the white-haired man stationed next to her.  His fuchsia eyes glowered at her form, which was off in its dream world.

“Yeah,” she blinked a few times. “I’m listening.”

The former smile on his face was downturned. His eyes narrowed as he raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you're a terrible liar, and it’s not very flashy of you.”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Tengen, I don’t need a lecture. Especially from you.”

Hands raised in defense; he leaned back against the stone in front of the Butterfly Mansion. The sun’s rays reached far into the sky as it lowered itself on the horizon. Igniting the land in warmth and an array of rich tones. It was almost blinding, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes. The Sound Hashira hummed next to her; eyes closed with a small smile on his face. Ever since the arrival of Tanjiro Kamado and his younger demon sister, Nezuko, tensions were high among the slayers. As much as she wanted to think she wasn’t wary at first, the Echo Hashira would be deceiving herself if she did. However, with the bittersweet victory of the Mugen Train, her judgment of the small slayers had shifted. She supposed Tomioka was right to have given them a chance, but it amazed her that it was him of all people. She would have to show her gratitude to him but at a different time.

The death of Kyojuro Rengoku following the defeat of Lower Moon One exhibited the harsh reality of their day-to-day life. She was cognizant of the dangers and death that danced in their shadows, but this was another kind of pain. A wound that wouldn’t stay closed and leaked as if weeping for the fallen Pillar. Which she did often alone late at night. No one was around to see her walls barren, unguarded and splayed for anyone to see the rising tide that was her emotions. While she wasn’t as close to the Flame Hashira as she would’ve desired, she knew him well enough to call him her friend. Tengen on the other hand, was closer to Kyojuro than anyone. On a handful of occasions, she had caught him mourning. She never approached him in these moments no matter how close they were. It felt too raw and private, and if he knew she had seen him, he never confronted her about it.

“Were you thinking about your bond again?” Tengen said cracking one eye open.

“When am I not?”

“So, you were thinking about it!” He teased, a wider smile gracing his features.

“Bold of you to assume that’s the only thing on my mind.” She grumbled massaging her temple. Tengen was the only person besides the Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother to know that she didn’t have a soul tie. It is well known that bonds form in the early stages of life and it has never been heard of to have one materialize after 5 years of age. However, it has also never been heard of not having one at all. At least, until she never got one. She waited for years, staring intensely at her wrist to see the red thread assemble itself before her eyes. Stretching to the one that was supposedly meant for her, but it never came. Over the years she had wishful thinking that dwindled to a mere flame that had eventually snuffed itself out. There was no point in longing for one when she was now at the ripe age of 22. Her time had come and gone, but regardless of saying that, deep down she still hoped. Why? She had no idea, but it constantly plagued her. Even more so, she had no idea why she decided Tengen out of all people was the one to confide this information to. The Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother made sense, but him? She’s surprised he hasn’t run that mouth of his. The anxiety she felt at anyone else knowing weighed on her mind daily. She did not doubt that people would find it taboo, no matter how progressive the world became.

Tengen sighed at her words. “I assumed nothing. I only made an observation and I have no doubt there are more worries in that head of yours.”

“And what about you? Don’t you have your own? What about Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru?”

“I haven’t heard from them,” she turned to look at him as he spoke. “Their letters stopped coming a while back.”

Silence rose between the two of them. She could see the conflict in Tengen’s eyes. He cared greatly for his wives as they did him. She had met them a few times and saw first-hand just how important and beautiful their relationship was. Lucky bastard. Though his family was known for having multiple soul ties. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy, but happiness for all four of them.

“Will you be going to look for them?”

“Yes,” he grunted standing up from the cobble where they both were sitting. “You can come along if you want. I could use that breathing style of yours.”

She stood up alongside him, wincing, her back aching from the firm ground. Aoi and the others would have her head knowing that she wasn’t maintaining her health in light of recent events.

“That all depends on the Master, but I would be happy to lend a hand,” the corners of her lips upturned slightly as she looked at him and then at the darkening sky. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Despite his growing smile, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Great! I need to gather a few more items,” he drawled, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “But then we should be ready to head out in a few days.”

She shook her head. Whatever was going on in that bare brain of his she sincerely hoped it was something good, but she didn’t pry.

“I think I’ll go on ahead of you. I can see if I can get any leads on those three and meet up with you in Yoshiwara.”

“Come on,” Tengen groaned. “I would like to have someone I like to talk to travel with me.”

She shook her head in defiance. “You know my breathing style does better when I’m alone. It’s not as big of a risk, and I don’t think the Sound Pillar”- she pointed at him- “wants to lose his hearing.”

They both smiled at each other, a few breathy laughs escaping from their mouths. Her style, Echo breathing, relied on high frequencies that were known to be a danger to group efforts. There have been more than a handful of accidents in the past, many she’s not proud of, which is why the executive decision was made for her to do missions alone. However, Master Kagaya occasionally granted her to travel in the company of others. It did get quite lonely at times, but she preferred the safety of others over satisfying the sociable aspect of herself.

Tengen hummed, “I suppose you’re right. Though, it would be a very extravagant way to retire. Having a comrade kill off my hearing.”

She kicked some stones his way. “I’ll let you know what the Master says. If granted, I’ll leave at dawn, but for now, I’m going to get some well-deserved rest.”

He let out a loud laugh and gestured some form of what she assumed to be a goodnight. “If not, I’ll drag you there myself.” He exclaimed before strutting off to who knows where.

She studied him as he disappeared into the estate’s shadows. He couldn’t fool her. Despite his optimistic exterior, he was terrified. She could recognize that kind of spirit anywhere as many of the same haunted her. And for his sake, she hoped that those three were alive. If they were to perish, she didn’t think he would ever recover. He would be a shell of a man and taper off into misery. She couldn’t bear to see his downfall.

 --------------------------------------------------------

Lying in her room in the mansion, the Echo Pillar was restless. Sleep evaded her and instead, her psyche was infested with dread. Shinobu had been kind enough to offer her residence temporarily following her previous assignment, along with Aoi and the butterfly girls helping her in any way they could. She was forever in their debt and thinking of them brought a smile to her face despite the growing pit in her stomach.

Earlier, her crow had returned with word from Master Kagaya. Said message permitting her to venture out to Yoshiwara, a red-light district all too familiar. It’s not that she had any history with the district, but rather passed through it on multiple occasions. Therefore, becoming acquainted more than she ever thought she would. Lucky for her, that will come in handy.

What she didn’t understand was why she was filled with apprehension. It was like her body and mind were working against her. This had only ever been a problem when she was a beginner slayer, but as she rose in the ranks she learned to deal with these sentiments. Fear was a constant. It never went away, but confidence and vengeance outweighed it in every circumstance. So why was it so prominent now?

Sighing, she turned her head to gaze at the aperture that granted the moon entry. Its rays highlighted every surface in a delicate glow. Night, despite its tendency to harbor barbaric creatures was a time she always looked forward to. The darkness leaked like ink and grasped at the innocent, but it provided comfort to those in need. She could never loathe it.

Her muscles ached. No position good enough to lull her into unconsciousness’s sweet embrace. Abruptly, what felt like a fire erupted down her arm. Its path licked under her pallid flesh and burned away at her veins. Sitting up faster than ever before, she clutched her forearm. Biting the inside of her cheek so hard, iron filled her mouth in a matter of seconds. Nails dug into tender flesh as something slithered through her arm. Confusion swarmed her mind. Was this from the previous demon she fought? There was no way, that thing’s blood demon art couldn’t have done this. It would’ve already taken effect and finished her off by now. Regardless, she was dangerously close to finding a solution to the rapidly growing pain. Tucking her arm, she hoisted herself onto her knees. Her head ducked low and her eyes went wide, her skin felt clammy. Under the palm of her hand that was grasping her arm, a deep red glow oozed out. Limbs shook as she slowly raised her hand away from the skin. The vessels excreted a scarlet substance under the complexion of her arm. Spreading agonizingly slow towards the wrist. Her breathing grew heavy as terror’s maw tore her insides, and through a clouded mind, she watched as a thread, red as wine, circled her wrist. It traveled through her fingers caressing them before pulling taught. The tightening in her arm caused her to clench her fist. The thread continued, creeping around her extremity before elongating to the slightly cracked door. Its length was ongoing. A feeling of bliss stroked up her arm replacing the pain and she let out a shuttering breath. The thread pulsed and she could feel it dilating under her skin.

Pure shock all but made her heart stop. “How…how is this possible?”

She gently rubbed the thread between the pads of her fingers. Its texture was coarse and some of the bristles pricked her skin.

She finally had the sanctified bond she had always longed for. 

Her other half.

Her soulmate.

#muzan x reader #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x y/n #demon slayer muzan #muzan demon slayer #muzan kibutsuji x you #muzan kibutsuji x reader #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny x you #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer au #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer x you #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #kny

[soraka-in-warhammer40k]

Behold. Our main cast!

Thanks to @rowscara I can now proudly present the three main characters of Tepidus Tempestus!

Let's start off with Chaptermaster Auris.

Previously Ultramarine essentially rose to the position because no one else could be arsed to deal with the paperwork the job entails.

His body makeup is about 70% recaf due to being a irredeemable workaholic. A regular mortal would probably be dead by now. Has gone to great lenghts to skip his medical checkup for ages now in fear he might be deemed temporarely unfit to work and be forced to rest.

Favourite mortal crew-members: Communications Officer Liberta who has his overachiever/workaholic tendencies in common; and Youngling Vellenus, boy born to a family in Engineering who he employs as paperwork-assistant and messenger.

Auris will not be able to evade the medical checkups for too long if the next person has any say in that: Chief Apothecarius Timidus.

Unlike Auris who refuses to take a single break ever, Timidus here really wants a break - but as imperial spacecraft are a tremendous safety- and health-hazard even in peaceful times no matter how well Auris tries to restructure processes and drill the crew, that would mean risking someone dying while he's off duty, which would be inacceptable.

One of the "founding members" of the Chapter in its current iteration he rose to the leading position mostly due to everyone above in the hierachy kicking the bucket. Never had an ambitions or aspirations, just wants to do his job and people not die, which is already an impossible goal given the world they live in.

Favourite mortal crew members: his assistant, Narcosis. Ogryn Nurse strong enough to restrain even the rowdiest Astartes should the need arise; and Castellan Dunst, highest ranking human on the ship, who for legal reason cannot be called Captain. They have a similiar mindset of "leave no man behind" that is certainly not too common in this world.

Argues often with their resident Tech Priest Daimos-5.

One of the more "recent" additions to the Chapter, Daimos-5 origins are somewhat unclear. Doing some background checks revealed some confusing conflict among different Mechanicus circles, and after the death of his mentor it seems like he was on the verge of excommunication for reasons unknown. "Tech Heresy" might sound like a strong accusation until you remember they throw that at literally every and any political opponent in their club.

Due to ideological reasons regarding self-augmentation he hates Servitors with a passion and considers them an inefficient waste of potential. He himself has long passed the 50% mark when it comes to machine parts - and no one knows what exactly is going on under that robe and how he moves. No one has ever seen his left arm either for that matter.

Personal focus of research: warp engines and spacecraft. Considers work on weaponry a [[phrase: barbaric waste of time]] because [[Superior weapon = Useless, if: means to reach target battlefield = insufficient]]

Least hated crew members: Engine-Master Kirrspatt for her technological competence; and Su'us who I cannot explain here for reasons of spoilers in the early chapters.

Again thanks to @rowscara for the artworks, and I look forward to when I can make another post like that for the most popular side characters!

SPOILER WARNING FOR UNDER THE CUT regarding Daimos-5

#Warhammer 40k #wh40k #fanfiction #tepidus tempestus #character post

[ferallfemmesa]

Aloy's Arcane Verse

A pair of scientists were working in their attempt to provide a way to end the loss of limb and life in Piltover, and their great strides were endorsed by the council because it would allow people to maintain their livelihood and prosperity in Piltover. No more prosthetics are needed, just the production of growing a new arm to replace one that is lost. That is what Rost and Elisabet Sobeck hope to accomplish. Unfortunately, despite all their progress and goodwill for the city they lived in, they were forced to deal with the corruption of the city they wanted to help. Marcus, out of desperation to create a weapon he could use to perhaps one day break away from Silco or perhaps do the dirty work Silco asked, blackmailed the very people who wanted to help others.

with the hovering threat of forged documents of importing and using shimmer illegally in their experiments, the two were forced to use their project for something else. With some hair from Vi, a prisoner he had just put away for no reason at all except in his twisted mindset to "protect her" from Silco, they started their work. It took months, to create the body, altering it just a bit to look different than the one in prison, and then encouraging its gestational growth. In a year, they developed a woman who looked to be nineteen. A clone of the brawler.

The clone was named Aloy by her creators, and they tried to keep her away from Marcus for a little while. They were astounded to realize that they didn't have to teach her skills like reading or writing, it's as if she carried the procedural memories, such as motor skills or instincts, as well as to speak. Her words were clear and concise and she did not need to relearn everything. What Aloy struggled with though was memories that she didn't understand. Memories she had no memory of having and yet there they were. Her creators tried to help her process but it was difficult as this was the first time someone had ever been cloned.

But there were days that Marcus would come around, and her creators could not stop him. He would try to drill into her head how to use her skills for him. What they had to fight against. Influences of being the 'perfect weapon' because that is what she was made for. She would not give up, her stubborn nature made her push back, and constantly question why. She didn't come when he asked, she refused to do what he wanted. One day he brought a file in about the one she was created from. Vi. Pink. A person unable to be rehabilitated. Marcus tried to explain how she was the future of rehabilitation and how she would be a great asset to his enforcers. this only pissed off Aloy more; she was a tool. She was just a tool to him and nothing more! She snapped back instantly and told him "Never again. I will not fight for you,"

Marcus realized his desperate attempt to make a weapon failed. The entire thing had to be destroyed; all traces of his touch were removed. Course Marcus couldn't go through with it, so he ordered a squad to "investigate illegal experimentation" at so and so, and that heavy force was allowed to "end the means" at all costs. Aloy's creators knew what was happening, something was going to happen, so Rost stood behind to protect Aloy while Elisabet tried to get her to safety. Unfortunately, there was not enough time. Aloy watched as Rost attacked the enforcers and died as quickly as he lived. Elisabet forced Aloy outside, getting her away, and told her to run.

Aloy couldn't just run, and she watched as the enforcers slaughtered Elisabet where she stood at the window. As the gunshots went off, Aloy had to run. She didn't have a gun, she couldn't fight back against them.

But she vowed to fight back.

Aloy struggles with memories that aren't hers, with no childhood or life. She has no clue who she is, or what she is. Is she a person, or a shadow of a person? She never asked to be created, she enver wanted to be created. She does not blame her creators, she loved Rost and Elisabet as if they were her biological parents, but in the end, she knows. She will never have parents, she will never have people who look at her.

She is a copy, a fake. And she doesn't know what this means for her. So she fights, this is what she knows what to do and how to do it. She fights against Marcus in the death of Night, a stealthy hunter. A killer of killers. Some call her Red. Some call her Outcast. Some call her Savage.

She calls herself Aloy.

#[muse] aloy — interactions. #[pre canon verse] — aloy. #This is Aloy's arcane verse #if you are a Vi we can discuss and if you don't like it #we can always cahnge it #but this is definitely something I thought was cool and fitting ^^ #thanks to musesofmarnie and misstanabismuses for inspiration!!

[lepidopteragirl]

hello soap my good friend soap can you tell me about the groundhogs day fic? also take your time get sleep if you need to resting is important!

hi yen hi hi hi for the love of god hello hope u are having a fantastic day :)

okay so for our backstory to my little guy and my extremely self indulgent swimming, au. perhaps this would work the same, perhaps even better, with a different sport, but i swim and if im going to make a self indulgent projection filled au im going to do it all the way damnit

so quackity's a swimmer yea. and he's been a solid alright for most of his career as a age group athlete (age group usually refers to 8-14 in usa swimming. and this is set in the us bc im american and want to talk about swimming like it is for me yeah) but as he goes into high school he has this big jump in times, he gets good rly fast and its very exciting for a while

(this timeline is perhaps over specific but no one is allowed to mention it i need some plausible deniability of extreme projection here)

so he's on this year of great times, the ball wont stop rolling he's on a great track to being recruited to some of the best colleges in the country if he keeps on this trajectory. and he's at the last meet of the season, and he still swims quite well, but he falls consistently just short of a certain cut in all of his good events. so he's disappointed, but not crushed, yknow? then he goes into a two week break, and about halfway through, he gets injured and can't be in the water for six months. which is, not great. it sucks its bad, and when he gets back in, he can't get back to how he used to be performing for anything. three years go by and he hasn't gotten any better, really, barely even touched the times from that last good meet. shit sucks. just can't get faster, despite being three years faster and technically in practice a better swimmer. but the times just aren't there when they need to be. (people keep saying performance anxiety, feeling stuck in a mental rut. who knows)

coach tells him it might be better if he quit, so he goes on a training arc to prove them wrong like the Hot Girl he is, all eyes everything set on finally hitting this one cut he's been falling just short from for years. he switches to a new best event, training has been better than it ever has before. he's ready going into the meet, everything finally aligned. maybe he's in his head a bit, but its going to be there, he's ready hes finally back.

then he misses yet again. hes crushed. no coming back staring into the mirror for an hour straight wondering why he even does this shit anymore, refusing to show his face to anyone and cries himself to sleep type crushed you know the drill.

then he wakes up again the same morning, and thats when the story starts!!

#clearly this is a super projectionheavy/personal au lol but its specifically trying to hit on the idea of being so so stuck in something & #feeling trapped in old ruts and how it just feels likes spinning your wheels repeating the same thing over and over #my writing #<- kinda but i want to find this again lol

[ferinehuntressmoved]

A pair of scientists were working in their attempt to provide a way to end the loss of limb and life in Piltover, and their great strides were endorsed by the council because it would allow people to maintain their livelihood and prosperity in Piltover. No more prosthetics are needed, just the production of growing a new arm to replace one that is lost. That is what Rost and Elisabet Sobeck hope to accomplish. Unfortunately, despite all their progress and goodwill for the city they lived in, they were forced to deal with the corruption of the city they wanted to help. Marcus, out of desperation to create a weapon he could use to perhaps one day break away from Silco or perhaps do the dirty work Silco asked, blackmailed the very people who wanted to help others.

with the hovering threat of forged documents of importing and using shimmer illegally in their experiments, the two were forced to use their project for something else. With some hair from Vi, a prisoner he had just put away for no reason at all except in his twisted mindset to "protect her" from Silco, they started their work. It took months, to create the body, altering it just a bit to look different than the one in prison, and then encouraging its gestational growth. In a year, they developed a woman who looked to be nineteen. A clone of the brawler.

The clone was named Aloy by her creators, and they tried to keep her away from Marcus for a little while. They were astounded to realize that they didn't have to teach her skills like reading or writing, it's as if she carried the procedural memories, such as motor skills or instincts, as well as to speak. Her words were clear and concise and she did not need to relearn everything. What Aloy struggled with though was memories that she didn't understand. Memories she had no memory of having and yet there they were. Her creators tried to help her process but it was difficult as this was the first time someone had ever been cloned.

But there were days that Marcus would come around, and her creators could not stop him. He would try to drill into her head how to use her skills for him. What they had to fight against. Influences of being the 'perfect weapon' because that is what she was made for. She would not give up, her stubborn nature made her push back, and constantly question why. She didn't come when he asked, she refused to do what he wanted. One day he brought a file in about the one she was created from. Vi. Pink. A person unable to be rehabilitated. Marcus tried to explain how she was the future of rehabilitation and how she would be a great asset to his enforcers. this only pissed off Aloy more; she was a tool. She was just a tool to him and nothing more! She snapped back instantly and told him "Never again. I will not fight for you,"

Marcus realized his desperate attempt to make a weapon failed. The entire thing had to be destroyed; all traces of his touch were removed. Course Marcus couldn't go through with it, so he ordered a squad to "investigate illegal experimentation" at so and so, and that heavy force was allowed to "end the means" at all costs. Aloy's creators knew what was happening, something was going to happen, so Rost stood behind to protect Aloy while Elisabet tried to get her to safety. Unfortunately, there was not enough time. Aloy watched as Rost attacked the enforcers and died as quickly as he lived. Elisabet forced Aloy outside, getting her away, and told her to run.

Aloy couldn't just run, and she watched as the enforcers slaughtered Elisabet where she stood at the window. As the gunshots went off, Aloy had to run. She didn't have a gun, she couldn't fight back against them.

But she vowed to fight back.

Aloy struggles with memories that aren't hers, with no childhood or life. She has no clue who she is, or what she is. Is she a person, or a shadow of a person? She never asked to be created, she enver wanted to be created. She does not blame her creators, she loved Rost and Elisabet as if they were her biological parents, but in the end, she knows. She will never have parents, she will never have people who look at her.

She is a copy, a fake. And she doesn't know what this means for her. So she fights, this is what she knows what to do and how to do it. She fights against Marcus in the dead of Night, a stealthy hunter. A killer of killers. Some call her Red. Some call her Outcast. Some call her Savage.

She calls herself Aloy.

#verse details . #— aloy arcane verse. #artwork is by me

[quirklessidiot]

Title: first meetings [ii. the small pink-haired boy] Genre: just angst, drama, romance, historical fiction Pairing: Sorcerer!Sukuna x gn!sorcerer!reader (heian era; pre-curse sukuna)

Synopsis: in which you befriend the slave boy you’re supposed to spy on.

Warnings: not canon stuff, future dark themes,, smoll manga spoilers, slavery, whipping, mentions of rape, language and violence Notes: im kinda back i guess skksks also these are pretty much random au’s of my own take of sukuna’s back story uwu, theyre arranged in no particular order and you can read them in any order. This started out as a random one shot and i couldnt get it out of my head lol ksksksks, def not canon btw but it is canon that sukuna used to be an all powerful sorcerer before he turned to the dark side or smthng.

lil dictionary: non-person-  usually what they called slaves during the heian era.

masterlist [for other parts] ;; taglist 

“That’s beautiful.”

Contrasting to your rather clean and prestigious appearance, the young boy was dressed in rags and had dirt painted on his face. You could tell by his uncommon red eyes that he didn’t want you here nor did he even want to be associated with you.

“...the boy is rather prideful.” your otosan recounted a few nights before, you’d usually have conversations like this since you were quite close with him and he did like to confide you with these things,“but he has spirit, he’d be good for a ward.”

“What are you doing here?” He spat, being a part of and the sole heir of your family meant you were also treated with dignity and respect, it seemed like this boy wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, this made you grin wildly much to his disdain, “Oi, stop grinning like that. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“And I don’t care.” 

“Has anyone told you that you’ve got quite the temper?”

“Well, has anyone told you that you’re being an annoying bitch?” he bit back, five minutes into your first meeting, this strange boy seemed to want to get furthest away from you. He seemed to be rather ignorant to his overflowing cursed energy, your father was right, this boy was definitely no joke. 

“That’s sad.” You pouted, “All I wanted to say was how beautiful that Kimono is.”

“I was at a store, looking for some clothes that best suited you when I saw a young boy of your age…” your otosan narrated, “Who had a rather high cursed energy, he seemed unaware with it. He works as an errand boy, I believe, he carries heavy clothes and silk… His looks are hard to miss Y/N, so I’m sure you won’t miss him...try to talk to him…”

The boy looks up to you, completely annoyed, “Well, you said it. Now fuck off, yeah?”

You chose to ignore him and just bend down to his level, you had no training for today so you might as well join the boy for a moment since you had time to kill, “You know, if you keep keeping that attitude up, you might scare the customers away.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah?” he clicked his tongue, “Looks to me that you aren’t even here to buy anything.”

“He seemed rather…” Your otosan described, “perplexed...so you might as well go in my stead…”

“Ah.” your grin doesn’t seem to fade despite his rather rough way of speaking, “You just seemed around my age so I got interested.”

“No shit, now buzz off. I got no time for kids like you.”

He talks as if he was older than you, it’s no surprise. Boys like him tend to think they know quite a lot.

“Do you wish to tell me your name now?”

He was silent for a moment.

That’s when realization dawned upon you, why he seemed perplexed around your otosan, why he thinks you were an annoying buzz, and why he couldn’t reply when you asked for his name. You feel yourself inwardly cringe at your mistake, it seems like the boy your father took interest in is a slave with no name, “Twenty.” he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly.

“What?”

“They call me twenty.” he recounts, his voice is still rough around the edges, remaining uncensored by his identity.

“Right…” you tilt your head, “Twenty…”

“You’ve got silks to bring to the next town, boy!” a loud voice calls out, cutting you short, making the pink-haired boy put the pretty kimono down and back for display. Without even sparing you a glance or a word, he retreats to the back and you’re left squatting there alone. You watch him from behind, specifically at the bandages that peeked through his wrists.

The boy had piqued your interest to the point that you made it your weekly agenda to visit him and a-some-nights agenda to watch over him. He still ignores you and seems to be annoyed by you every time but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it so you just sit there. 

You were also still in awe by how much raw energy he possessed, you’d ask your otosan if he knew any sorcerers with lost children because it surely seemed as if this boy wasn’t ordinary.

“Just keep an eye on him,” was all your father said as you watch the boy close up shop late at night from on top of a roof, “He might make a great sorcerer and shift the tides.”

Your otosan was not one for gambling on people but it seemed like he made a large bet on this boy. 

As usual, you’re watching over him close up. It’s late and the owner of the place walks out, a pipe on his lips. Right then and there, he slaps the pink-haired teenager right at the face, “You should’ve joined the customer awhile ago in the dressing room, boy.” he growls, “It would’ve been quick…”

You feel the negative energy emit stronger than ever and your grip on your knife is tight, “Don’t get involved, Y/N.” your otosan’s warning echoes in your head, yes your otosan may have been interested in him but he was never one to dwell in human affairs, saying they were annoying and a mess to clean up.

“...It seems like the lesson a few nights ago wasn’t enough.” you snap back to reality and watch his boss stretch out a whip with its pointy ends and you feel your blood run cold. 

‘Don’t get involved-’

You ignore your otosan’s words in your head and throw a stone right at a nearby sign, resulting in a booming clang, making the cat nearby yelp outloud. The pink-haired boy jumps on the spot and so does the older man at the sound.

“Ah fucking-” the older man curses, tucking the whip back in, “No food for you for three days. Know your fucking worth, non-person.”

Your grip on your nodachi lessens as you let out a sigh of relief, whatever legal terms your father must be talking about needs to be done quickly.

On the next day, you’re on your way to visit him again. Carrying the bento box that you know he’ll refuse again because of his ‘pride’ yet you stop dead on your tracks when you find his owner and an older man talking, Sukuna seems to be standing behind them, looking quite uncomfortable.

It didn’t take two and two to guess what was going on, the amount of cursed energy leaking on him was strong so you could only guess this was the man who wanted to get his way on him yesterday. Your nose crinkles in absolute disgust, “Don’t get involved-”

Once again, you ignore your otosan’s words.

“Hey!” You call out, you see his red eyes widen, “What are you doing?”

The older man frowns at your sudden appearance, “None of your business brat. Now go home-”

“I said,” You repeated, your voice dangerously low, “What are you doing to him?”

“He’s a non-person, kid.” his ‘owner’ growls, you notice his hands dangerously close to his whip, “A fucking slave in simpler terms, now get the fuck out before I beat him and you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Your eyes are narrowed, truthfully, no one ever scares you. You were the heir of your clan. It was to be expected and drilled since your curse energy manifested when you were five that fear would come last, “Now unhand the boy.”

“This bitch-”

“Now, now.” The other man smiles, cutting the pink-haired boy’s ‘owner’ off,  “Maybe I can take that young child with me too. After all, they seem to be good friends. Two is better than one…”

You watch the other older man snake an arm on the young boy’s shoulder and you could feel the fear leaking out, it was harder to mask and hide now. 

“Is it alright to put a little scar on’em? So that they’d know-” He gets ready to take out the whip while your fists are clenched, this would be easy. You could get away with this later, at least you’d take the boy away from this place and help him control his energy after. 

Yet before you’re able to land a blow, the pink-haired boy yells at you to move as his ‘owner’ takes out a whip to whip you.

For someone who didn’t seem to like your presence, he was rather quick to defend you, having his face get hit in the process by the sharp whip. Your eyes widen in surprise, “Ah, shit… Y/N, run!” he yells but you’re staring at his very bloody face.

It would obviously leave marks like the wrists and who knows which parts since he was always covered by that very loose raggedy kimono.

You clench your fists tightly and look up from his blood features, the ‘owner’ stops on his tracks when he meets your very cold gaze, “Do you know who you just messed with?” you asked, “You really think I won’t tell my otosan that you planned to make me your prostitute?”

“Y-Y/N, jesus christ just fucking run-” he tried to stutter out, any evidence of the prideful and strong boy who tried to shoo you away was now gone.

Yet like the stubborn child you are, you ignore him and instead take out your family seal and drop it in front of them, ignoring the pink-haired boy’s plea’s and watching the two men in front of you turn white as a ghost as they see the nameplate, “My name is Ryomen Y/N.” You stated, voice loud and clear, “And you better hope that I’ll let you out here dead or me and my otosan will hunt you down for the rest of your life.”

taglist [if your name is crossed out, i cant tag you!] @shinhiromi ;; @hcn421 ;; @airybnb ;; @coldbookworm ;; @kristineyoshaii ;; @frankenstein852​

@iguessimastannnow

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna imagines

[syndianites]

A Queen Serve and Protects

Chapter Six

First Chapter –> Last Chapter –> Current –> Next Chapter TBA! Summary:

Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe’s character could have developed] ——————————————————————————————

Pollen tapped the tablet pen on the table. School had ended and the duo was officially home.

“Chloe,” Pollen began. “It has come to my attention that you don’t do your own work.”

“So?” Chloe nonchalantly replied, crossing one leg over the other from where she sat on the chaise in front of Pollen.

Pollen tried not to roll her eyes. “So, I want you to learn how to be self-sufficient.”

Chloe scoffed. “I am plenty self-sufficient.”

“Really?” Pollen had a sweet smile on her face. “Then prove it.”

:readmore:

Before Chloe could make any remark, Polle flew over to her school bag. It looked more like a purse, honestly, with how much makeup and accessories she had stashed away inside. Seriously, what did you need an extra pair of heels for?

Pollen shook off the thought and grabbed the binder Chloe used for class, as well as her homework folder. Brining both items back to the table, she flipped the folder open. She pulled out the first sheet of homework she saw- something math related- and waved a paw at it.

Chloe gave her a dumbfounded look. “You want me to do that? Sabrina normally does.”

Pollen raised an eyebrow.

“Ugh, fine, I get it.” Chloe grumbled. “What does doing my own work have to do with being self-sufficient anyway?”

“When was the last time you did your own school work.”

“Ughhhh!”

Letting out a little giggle, Pollen decided to make a compromise, “For every question you get correct, I’ll let you ask a question about the Bee miraculous and its powers. However!” Pollen held a paw up before Chloe could get too excited, “For each you get wrong, you have to listen to some history and background on the miraculous.”

“Ooo-kay? How is that a loss for me? I still get to know what I want to know,” Chloe replied.

If only the poor girl knew.

Pollen beamed. “I’m glad you asked! You know how much you love our ‘Bee Nice’ Sessions?”

Chloe groaned.

“Anything I tell you will come along with lessons. I will tell you tales that are important for a number of reasons. And you have to sit through all of them!”

Chloe’s eye twitched. That sounded excruciating. Buuuut, she did want to know more about what powers the Bee miraculous could give her. It was just a simple math worksheet. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard. So Chloe took out a blank sheet of paper and began working.

She was wrong. So, so wrong. Chloe was by no means a bad student. She got solid B’s and pleased her daddy enough with her grades to get by. Did she need to have a study session with Sabrina before each test or quiz to get the contents down? Yes.

But that was all pish-posh. She figured if she could pick up enough for a test or quiz a day before it, she could do homework with no problem. Apparently, she hadn’t been giving Sabrina enough credit. That girl made it so much easier than this.

It didn’t help that her notes were a total disaster. Half-finished sentences, unclear instructions, and a clear lack of interest in each page. For a moment Chloe cursed her own apathy. She wanted to know more, damnit! 

By the time she finished she felt exhausted. Pollen, ever chipper, hummed as she looked through each question. She procured a pen and started making marks. That was a lot of red. Oh GOD, there was so much red.

Pollen tapped the pen to her chin in thought. Giving a nod, she wrote a score at the top of her sheet.

6/15. 

That was just under half! And that meant she would have failed had it been a test. Chloe resisted the urge to hit her head on the table. She could not afford to be forced into tutoring. Again.

Despite Chloe’s despair, Pollen was excited. This was better than she was expecting! Sure, she had been hoping for closer to a 75% or 80%, but Chloe at least had the idea down.

Plus this meant she could drill some more lessons into her charge.

Rubbing her paws together, she addressed Chloe. “Alright. Since it is almost an even split, let’s go back and forth with questions and history. I’ll start with a history lesson first, since you missed more than you got correct. But since I’m feeling nice, I’ll give you a choice here: Would you rather hear some history about my previous holders first, or about all the miraculous as a whole?”

“Your past wielders, of course! I need to know who would be so lucky to use the same miraculous as moi.” Chloe flipped her hair back to accentuate her point.

Pollen huffed. Nonetheless, she thought back to her past holders, humming all the while. Who would be the best to start with to help Chloe learn? 

She smiled as someone came to mind. “Now, before we start, I should say that we aren’t always deployed to battle some great evil. Sometimes, we are let out into the world to help inspire something. For me, I either inspire Order and Control. Or, when that gets to be too much, I inspire freedom from Order and Control.”

“Wait,” Chloe interrupted. “Why would you go against your whole Order thing?”

“I thought you wanted to talk about past wielders first,” Pollen brought a paw up to her lips to hide a smile. “To get into that would mean I would have to talk about all the miraculous.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Tell me the basics about all the miraculous first. But! You better tell me about your past users after!” Chloe conceded, pouting at the little god.

Pollen started again. “Like I said, we don’t always need a great evil to fight. At their core, each miraculous is meant to balance out their respective aspects. Tikki- Ladybug’s kwami- is the kwami of Light and Creation, for example. She is largely put out into the world to inspire new ideas and innovation.”

Chloe scrunched her nose in confusion. “Didn’t you say you also get put out to stop Order and Control? Why would you ever want to stop Light and Creation?”

“Well,” Pollen looked off to the side. “You can’t endlessly create. Tikki works on a more individual scale. She inspires Light and Creation in people as individuals. I, however, inspire Order and Subj- Control in a much larger scheme. After all, a bee’s focus is on the hive, isn’t it?”

“In any case, sometimes people burn themselves out when creating too much or spreading too much light. If you give and give and give, what is left for you? Nothing. And those left with nothing often crumble and fall apart- or worse. Tikki, when she is needed to, can either help her holder ease off themselves or help their holder teach others to let go of such demanding responsibility.”

Chloe nodded slowly. That… sort of made sense. “So it’s like when Adr- a friend of mine kept being happy and smiling even after his mother died to help others stop being sad. Because he wanted others to feel ‘lighter’” She made finger quotes, “Despite the tragedy that happened?”

“Yes, that could be a good example,” Pollen agreed. “If your friend gave away all his light and such to others, it could burn him out and leave him feeling empty and cold. Though, in this case I would lean more into the Peacock- he worked to give good emotion to others to cover their grief. But we’ll get there in a moment.”

“Plagg, Chat Noir’s kwami, is Tikki’s counterpart. He is the kwami of Dark and Destruction.” Pollen stopped as Chloe seemed to ponder that.

“If he is all about dark and destruction, wouldn’t that make him more likely to be evil?” Chloe mused.

Pollen, for her part, wasn’t bothered by the question. “If I am all about order and control, wouldn’t I be more likely to use and abuse people?”

Chloe bit her lip, but shook her head no.

“Exactly. Just because that is what we represent it does not mean we are prone to be good or evil. In the balance of all things, there IS no good and evil. Really, it just comes down to what a certain group likes or dislikes, or how a person’s morals are aligned.”

“Okay, no, Hawkmoth is totally evil. There is no doubt about that. How could taking control of others and using their emotions to turn them into monsters be seen as a good thing?” Chloe didn’t like the idea of Hawkmoth being in the ‘right’ at all. It went against everything he had done to Paris.

“Well,” Polled offered, “Does Hawkmoth see himself as evil?”

Chloe sat back in her seat. If movies were anything to go by, he probably didn’t. She sighed and motioned Pollen to continue

Pollen pushed on. “In any case, Plagg is often put into the world to ruin things. Surprising, isn’t it? But sometimes the best things are made in the ashes of destruction. Growing from losing things is important for many people. Like how your friend lost his mom- he likely felt sad and lost. But if he grew from that? He could learn to see that others will have his back and he can lean on them. Even in the hard times.”

Chloe looked away from Pollen. She was right, sort of. When Adrien’s mom died, Chloe had been there trying her best to cheer him up. Did it really work? No. But she helped him escape the house and run around the city with her, and watch stupid cartoons and shows, and sometimes, just sometimes, get him to smile.

“But losing your mom isn’t a good thing!” Chloe snapped back. “That devastated my friend and his family.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I painted it as such. Loss is a horrible thing to endure. But I wanted to make a connection to something you mentioned.” Pollen bowed her head. “Destruction is rarely a happy thing. But, a more positive example would be something more metaphorical- the destruction of insecurities, or breaking a bad relationship, or- or bashing down a wall so you can open up a room to have more space!”

Sighing, Pollen shook her head. “It is far too easy to see Dark and Destruction as a bad thing. Darkness can be used to hide when you don’t feel safe. Or it can be used to tone down how bright something is when you feel blinded. It can also be used as a complement and give things more depth.”

“Of course, Plagg has also been put out to tame destruction. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘fighting fire with fire’? It’s the idea that you fight destruction with destruction. But he can also help people see their bad habits, or the things that hurt them, and get them to reign them in and stop themselves before it’s too late.”

“Okay, sure, that makes sense. But didn’t you just describe Tikki and Plagg as opposites anyway? Light and Dark, Creation and Destruction? Why do they need to get people to go against their aspect when the other IS the opposite?” Chloe butt in.

Pollen brightened. “That’s technically later in this lesson, but I can touch on it now. You’ve likely noticed that Ladybug and Chat Noir came together as a pair, correct?” At Chloe’s nod, she continued. “That is because they are like Yin and Yang- opposites that complete each other. While other kwamis do have opposites, none quite work the same as Tikki and Plagg. They were once a single being- one that was the kwami of Balance.”

“Well,” Pollen rubbed her cheek, “They weren’t a kwami, per se. But that is too much to explain for right now. You recall how Hawkmoth’s goal is to get the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous?”

“Of course, that’s all he ever talks about when he akumatizes someone!”

“Well, that’s because when you combine the two into one you can have any wish granted.”

“What!” Chloe slammed her hands down on the coffee table, startling Pollen. “That’s horrible! I mean, the power is cool, but if Hawkmoth got his grubby hands on that wish who knows what he would wish for!” 

“Exactly! But there’s a catch with that- whatever you wish for will have an equal and opposite consequence. If you wished for someone to come back to life? Someone else must die. If you want to have all the power in the world? Everyone else must become powerless. These may sound simple, but the gravity is just as dire as the wish would be grand.”

Chloe fell back. “So, if I- well, if I wished for my mom to love me..?”

“It depends,” Pollen shrugged. “Maybe everyone else around you would hate you. Maybe your father would stop loving you. Or, in a more subtle fashion, she wouldn’t love the real you, just a facsimile of you. Whoever she thinks you are. Sure, there are ways to make a wish that has a mostly positive outcome- for the one making the wish- but the consequence will always hurt someone. Even if it has to be a lot of someones.”

The two fell into silence after that declaration. It was a heavy thought. What could drive someone to want to change something so badly they would be willing to suffer or let others suffer for it? How cold hearted must you be? 

The whole thing baffled Chloe. She could just ring her father and have what she wanted with no consequence. Could she imagine doing something so drastic as to ruin someone’s life to make hers better?

Instead of voicing any of this, Chloe leaned forward. “So tell me about the other miraculous…”

#chloe bourgeois #chloe bourgois redemption #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #pollen (ladybug) #pollen #pollen the kwami #Kwami of the Bee miraculous #Bee miraculous #every time i get lazier and lazier with these tags #anyway if you reblog this i would kill for you uwu

[lover-of-queens]

Farah Dowling is Alive Part 2

The follow up to Part 1 or as I like to call it: look mom, I told you this degree would have uses in the real world! 

If you haven’t had a chance to read it yet, you can find Part 1: Here 

You know the drill, under the cut cause this is probably going to get long!

Episode 4: Some Wrecked Angel

Episode opens with our favourite trio. If you’ve read the first part then you’ll be familiar with my argument that it could be possible the writers are leaving Farah x Saul threads to pick up at a later date. I think this scene has some interesting ones. There’s a lot of effort in this scene to set Farah and Saul up as parallels - in a way that also makes them stand apart from Ben. We have them saying his name together, but also, when they discover Callum’s body, both Farah and Saul are in sync as they move into a kneeling position. 

I don’t necessarily know if this could be considered an argument for them bringing Farah back, however, in the scene with Farah, Stella and Luna, Stella brings up an interesting point about Farah’s pedagogy. We’re told that Farah chooses care and time over “solely results” when it comes to teaching. In the next episode we learn Rosalind’s own teaching style involves putting her students “through hell”. I don’t necessarily know when the change will happen but given this, I don’t see any way Rosalind can remain Headmistress, especially when they’re taking pains to show Farah as better suited for the role.

Also important in this scene is Farah and Luna’s last exchange. We know what appearances Luna has helped Farah maintain - the barrier/illusion that stops Aster Dell from being seen. So, what’s interesting is Farah’s next line:

Farah: “Yes, we’ve both done a great deal to preserve Solaria’s reputation.” 

This does not get addressed during the remaining episodes. Personally, this line and the amount of tension between Farah and Luna also strikes me as a potential thread that could be picked up later. I’m going to wager that I’m not alone in wanting to know what exactly they did to “preserve” Solaria’s rep. And my guess is, because Brian has mentioned that they’re going to expand on the winx world, we’re going to be finding out more about Solaria in S2. Theoretically, I suppose whatever event that is being referenced here could be dealt with without Farah on screen, but then we’d miss out on all the fun tension! Also, as of right now, fan response to Luna is nothing compared to Farah (at least from what I’ve seen). 

Tattoo theory, several people have already spoken on this and I don’t want to speak over them. I’m still sorting out my own thoughts on whether it’s Farah’s or Eve’s but I will say that Farah is always wearing rings so it seems to me that if they wanted it covered they could easily do it with a ring (or makeup). If the tattoo is purposely put there then I’m going to assume its for a reason that the writers may want to deal with at a later date (hint, hint: bring back Farah). 

Episode 5: Wither Into the Truth

I may do another post on this at some point if I can find enough to say to warrant it but Farah’s eye colour when she does magic. Up until now every time Farah’s done magic her eyes have glowed blue and yet in the scene where she questions Beatrix they glow light orange. Now I’d always assumed that the colour of the glow = element, which was why I didn’t know why Farah’s glowed blue to begin with; she’s a mind fairy so I would have expected the purple that Musa has. And actually the confirmation of her being a mind fairy comes from Fate’s IG page shown below, I don’t know if it’s ever explicitly stated in the show? Further, to my knowledge, Farah is the only fairy we’ve seen whose eyes glow different colours. So, a thread to pick up in season 2, perhaps? 

Also I’m very interested in the use of the word “Once”. In this instance I would almost take it to mean ‘no longer is’ but the tense is present perfect (I think?) which can suggest the continuance of an action. But now I’m being overly nitpicky and technical. Also I don’t know how ‘principle’ made it through what I’m assuming are several stages before making it onto IG, but it gave me a laugh!

“Incredibly powerful” yet loses to Rosalind without a fight? Not buying it. Additionally, the use of “other forms of magic” is interesting and I figure could be taken to mean other elements. But I wonder if there’s more to it than just that. Farah shows knowledge of archaic Fairy Magic with the Nettle Amalgam, so maybe there’s more archaic knowledge out there that she knows ... that could prove helpful. 

Now, back to the episode. When Farah and Hologram Luna are talking, the fact that there are two burned ones travelling together is cause for concern. 

Farah: “There are two of them travelling together. That hasn’t happened since … In a long time.” 

Once again we are left with a thread of something that has happened. In the same IG post as above, in the section for Saul, it mentions that he and Farah became confidants “after experiencing the Black Woods Massacre”. I wonder if that could be what Farah’s referring to here? I know the massacre has come up once or twice in conversation and correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t believe it’s ever been properly explained? To me, it looks like a great bit of backstory to get into at a later date. It may not confirm Farah being alive necessarily, but you could take it as a sign that we might see Eve again. 

Lastly, for this episode, is the scene between Farah and Bloom. Specifically this part: 

Farah: “I will help you get the answers you need. I give you my word.” 

You can probably guess what I’m going to say at this point, a thread that can be picked up in season 2! You could counterargue that Rosalind could help Bloom with answers (as she offers in the next episode) but in my humble opinion, I don’t think it would offer narrative satisfaction. First, because we’ve been shown what a terrible mentor Rosalind is. Second, they’ve spent the first season showing how Farah and Bloom’s mentor-student relationship has developed (bloomed?) so it seems a waste to go through all of that development for nothing. 

Episode 6: A Fanatic Heart

Rosalind has her little prison break. Personally, I still think there’s a lot of unanswered questions about what happened after Aster Dell, how they imprisoned Rosalind, etc. And I do hope that we get some answers in Season 2 - again these answers may not necessarily involve Farah on the screen but as every writer gets told the age old advice of “show, don’t tell”, I think there’s potential for that. 

Farah immediately tries to disprove my points about her intelligence by wandering alone in the woods at night. But she’s pretty, so I’ll allow it. 

Rosalind gives Bloom some answers but not all, so I do think that my point above about Farah helping Bloom find more answers still stands. Further, I find the Farah is Bloom’s mother theory to be unlikely for several reasons (this is not the post for them) but I do want to draw our attention to several lines of dialogue here. 

Bloom: “You hid me from Miss Dowling.” ….

Rosalind: “The guidance you needed was love. Farah couldn’t give that to you. Vanessa and Michael could.” 

There are SO many reasons why this exchange is fascinating. I’m interested in why Bloom brings up Farah to begin with - her other points could stand alone to the same affect. I’m also really interested in the direct comparison between Farah and Bloom’s adoptive parents -- if Bloom hadn’t gone to them, she would have gone to Farah? It almost seems as though the direct comparison implies that. Also, considering Bloom’s relationship with her adoptive parents, I really doubt the validity of the statement. Plus, I wouldn’t trust Rosalind’s idea of love in general. 

Also, Rosalind is just so certain that Farah couldn’t love Bloom … can’t love in general? There’s just so much of Farah and Rosalind’s relationship that hasn’t been explored that I think really needs to be. 

Now, the scene that always makes me cry! Farah and Bloom have had a difficult time this season and it’s all lead up to this moment of trust and vulnerability - on both sides. If you ask me, this season has been setting Farah up to be the mentor figure that Rosalind was not - Rosalind’s opposite. And they’ve worked hard at it, even when they were trying to convince us Farah might be the evil one which like lmao. I find it hard to believe that they would go through all of that work just to discard it by leaving Farah dead. Especially because what Farah admits to Bloom in this sequence feels like a changing moment for her - she recognizes things she wishes she would have done differently (being less of a figurehead, being more open) and I think its only fair that Fate allows her to follow through on those things. 

And onto the scene that I really don’t want to rewatch but I’m going to do it for y’all. I’ve touched on Farah x Saul moments so it’s only fair that I touch on Farah x Rosalind ones. There is tension here (looking at each other’s lips, Rosalind getting closer to Farah, Farah grabbing her), I mean the cast has joked about shipping them. But there are several different ways to read this and you are more than welcome to your pick! It doesn’t really change my point, which is … thread to pick up in season 2? Have you started taking a shot every time I’ve said that (please don’t <3). 

Farah who has shown herself to be incredibly intelligent and cautious when it comes to Rosalind turns her back on her. And we get what is probably the most important piece of evidence: the eye glow. It can mean absolutely anything, but I’d wager one of the reasons its there is to have people do exactly what I’m doing here. Theorizing about whether Farah could still be alive. I’m going to take that as a sign there’s hope (mainly because I think it would be cruel to suggest a ‘could she come back narrative’ and then … not have her come back). Also, in the Fate novel, it describes Farah’s death as “too easy”. I absolutely refuse to believe that it could be easy to kill Farah when she’s proved time and time again how powerful she is. 

That finishes my episode by episode analysis. It totals well over 2500 words. If you can believe me, I still have more to say on this topic (discussing general counterarguments and possible logistics of Eve’s filming), so stay tuned for a Part 3?

#Farah Dowling #fate: the winx saga #fate the winx saga #fate SPOILERS

[quarantineddreamer]

i’ve been absent, and i can’t be sorry (it’s been necessary), but i do miss this community and having the energy/time to participate.

in truth, it’s been a challenging past few months for me...

don’t want to bore anyone, so details below (tw: depression, anxiety, parental troubles, covid)

i was really fortunate to be really close to my family growing up. i had a great relationship with my parents. which is why it has been that much more painful for me this past year to have them slowly driven from me by the absurdity of current politics. i didn’t see it coming, i didn’t think my parents could become science deniers. and yet here i am...

i tried with everything i had to teach/reach them, but ultimately the stress of it all was causing my anxiety to reach extremely unhealthy levels. for my own health and sanity, i wrote them a long, heartfelt letter explaining why i would not be talking to them for the time being (as they refused to get vaccinated and began to behave dangerously, no masks, frequent outings, seeing lots of people). that was july. 

august my parents visited my hometown. i did not see them or speak to them. my birthday passed, i did not see them or speak to them... 

i spoke with my mother once, in september...and it’s all still just as bad. there was shouting, cursing, crying (mostly me tbh). she’s stubbornly clinging to her beliefs drilled into her by right-wing media. i wont get into them, but it’s conspiracy level bad... she got covid, she kept it from me and my brother until afterwards. miraculously she was okay despite taking “medicine” that has been proven to be ineffective against covid and potentially dangerous while sick to boot... it’s made her even more determined to cling to her insane theories about the vaccine, covid treatments, the government all of it... 

i told her my life would continue without her and dad: i might get engaged (probably would have on my anniversary except my partner felt bad i wasnt talking to them at the time), married, who knows... covid isn’t going away anytime soon, and i cant agree to disagree with her on this. it matters too much to me that they be safe. if i let it go and something were to happen to her and my dad...i’d never forgive myself for it. 

i’m not saying mine is the correct approach. i have been plagued with doubt and guilt off and on. my mom has used language that makes me feel like this is all my fault, for being anxious, for being depressed, for not just letting her have her dangerous opinions... but at the end of the day despite the pain and grief i feel for not having my parents right now, i am still better off than i was before. fewer panic attacks, able to focus at work, able to at least sleep some now. 

i started anti-depressants when my mental health hit an all-time low during all of this, and they’ve been helping too. i really didn’t want to get back on them, but i believe they’ve saved my life. 

sadly, between all this (and busy times at work) i’ve had very little time, focus, or motivation to write. i’ve barely been on here. to be completely honest, naps after work are common. the extra rest has become important. i’ve developed a sudden interest in true crime documentaries and sad movies?? i was very confused by this at first, since i’ve never ever had an interest before, but my therapist says its how im processing my trauma and grief lol 

but why write all this out on tumblr, B? well... i like to scream into the abyss here, and i also want to be completely open about my struggles and mental health, because i was at my worst when i felt utterly alone, and if this post helps even one person who might be experiencing similar feel less alone than it’s worth it.

and i also wanted to let this community know why i’ve suddenly dropped off because it is a place that has brought my joy even during the chaos of the past year or so. i am going to be participating in the upcoming zkmbb and still have my other projects ready and waiting for me to return, but for now, the queue is going to be up and running and i’ll be a bit quieter as i fight my way through this and have to dedicate extra time to self-care.

i hope no one relates to this post, i really do, because it all hurts a lot and i dont want anyone to feel this pain, but if you do? you are a warrior, i admire your strength and courage --and i am sending you so much love.

best wishes all,

B

#long post #an explanation #some stream of consciousness #who knows #i just felt the urge to throw this all out there #personal

[bondsmagii]

Here’s something I really can’t explain.

To sum up: I shouldn’t be alive right now. I shouldn’t be writing this. I have no idea how any of this could have happened, but the fact you’re reading this now is kind of living proof that it did happen, so I suppose I’ll try and explain it as best as I can.

A little backstory for you. Way back in the late forties, my great-grandfather was a young man working with the local fire department. He came back after the war and just couldn’t settle into any kind of desk job, so despite my great-grandmother worrying about his mental state he ended up running into burning buildings for a living. Naturally he saw some messed up shit, but nothing haunted him more than a hotel fire that he attended.

At the time there had been an annual prize night for a local grammar school. Hundreds of kids and their families were crammed into the hotel’s large ballroom when a stray match lit up the curtains on the stage. Back in the day they weren’t exactly great about fire safety, and the walls and furniture were panelled or made with highly flammable materials. The whole room went up in minutes. Over one hundred people died, over half of which were children below the age of fifteen. It was an indescribable tragedy, and my great-grandfather – along with every first responder there – was scarred for life over the things he saw that evening.

My great-grandfather did his best to live with what happened, and for the most part he did well, all things considered. All of his grief seemed to be directed towards one little girl, who was never identified or claimed. She was badly burned but not unrecognisable; the theory was that her whole family had died with her, leaving nobody left to notice she was gone. She wasn’t the only person to suffer this fate, unfortunately – all told, five people were never claimed by families – but because my great-grandfather was the one to pull her body from the wreckage, he sort of became obsessed with her. He was preoccupied until his death with finding out her identity, and every year on the anniversary of the fire he visited her grave to lay a wreath. Unfortunately, he died without ever finding out who she was.

Fast forward a few decades, and I’m in my early twenties. My great-grandfather died when I was quite young, so I only had a small idea of this part of his history. It was, however, enough to make me wary of large fires – especially hotel fires. One summer, I’m visiting another city for my younger brother’s university graduation, and I stay the night in a hotel near the city centre. I remember fires were on my mind already, because initially they had tried to give me a room on the twenty-third floor, and I had politely refused and requested a lower floor. (An old maxim of my great-grandfather’s: never stay on a floor where you wouldn’t survive the fall.) Because of the graduation, the hotel was packed, and I ended up on the fifth floor in the end, but I figured it was better than nothing.

The first night was fine. The second night a fire broke out. The hotel had had some electrical rewiring done within the last month, and something went wrong. The fire smouldered for hours, undetected, before spreading into multiple parts of the ventilation system. Smoke and flame was pushed to all corners of the hotel before the fire cut out the power. Later, investigators would discover that the fire burned through the power for the smoke and fire detection alarms almost immediately – yet somehow the fire alarms went off. This is only the beginning of the inexplicable that night.

By the time the alarms woke me, my room was already filled with smoke. I had been drilled on this so many times as a child that it was instinctive for me to roll off the bed and onto the floor; only then did I start to panic. Luckily I had fallen asleep with the curtains open – the only time I had ever done that in a hotel – and the city lights illuminated the room enough to let me know the smoke was only in the top two thirds of the room, and not as thick as it could have been. I had time to crawl into the bathroom, wet a towel, and tie it around my nose and mouth. Then I crawled to the door and lay a hand flat on it. The door was cool, so I cautiously pulled it open.

In the hallway, it was pitch dark. This is the worst case scenario for any fire. Smoke disorientates people, and they feel ill from inhaling it. Panic compounds the confusion. People can get lost in their own homes – hotels are the worst place for something like this. People stand little chance of getting out if they haven’t memorised an exit, and even then it’s not foolproof. I should know. I always memorise exits, but when I went out of my room I turned the wrong way. I don’t know why. I was panicking, I was confused, and I just made the wrong choice. It should have cost me my life.

I realised my mistake as soon as I reached the end of the hall. The door there was propped open (fire safety hazard, I remember thinking, like it mattered at that point) but I could see no flames. The door led to the stairwell, and I had just crawled out onto it when the entire world went black. The smoke and flame had intensified, the fire sucking in oxygen and the smoke being forced up the stairwell like a huge chimney. It spilled over the edges of the landing and enveloped me even hunched on my hands and knees. My eyes began to sting and water; I couldn’t see anything. I crawled back and bumped into the wall, and for several long seconds that felt like minutes, I couldn’t find my way out of the stairwell. The heat was evaporating the water in the towel, and the sheer amount of smoke meant it wasn’t doing much good anyway. By the time I finally made it back out into the hall, I was coughing and choking. Panic made me pull the towel down. I only took the smallest breath before the floor tilted under me and I experienced a horrible rush of lightheadedness – with smoke so toxic, sometimes a breath is all it takes.

I kept crawling, heading back towards my room, now realising my mistake. At that point I was forcing myself to stay calm, but it wasn’t working. I had realised I had probably just gotten myself killed, and it was almost impossible to breathe. The temperature was climbing, and I knew the fire was close. I could hear screaming from somewhere nearby, doors slamming. Every single rational thought had left. I scrambled down the hallway in pure panic, and then I saw the child.

She was hunched down, looking right at me. She wasn’t in any kind of night clothing – she looked like she was still in the clothing she would have worn at the graduation ceremony, a neat little dress and polished shoes, a ribbon tied in her hair. She was perhaps eight years old at my best guess, and seeing her shocked some sense into me. Before I could speak or gesture to the direction she should go, she waved and then pointed.

“Come on, mister,” she said. “This way.”

Together we crawled to the other end of the hallway. Smoke was billowing from that stairwell, too, thick and dark though still not as bad as the other one. Either way it didn’t look good, but the little girl didn’t seem concerned – not even when we crawled out onto the landing, and the orange flicker of flames was visible several floors below.

“No,” I said. “It’ll be too hot.”

“Come on, mister,” she said again.

She began scrambling down the stairs, staying as low as possible. I could hardly leave her, so I followed.

The heat was unbearable, and by the time we were on the floor below, visibility was zero. The smoke was so thick and black that even the flicker of the flames had vanished; the only way I knew how close they were was from the heat and the deafening roar of it. Have you ever been near to a large bonfire? Have you heard how loudly it crackles? That’s nothing. Big fires, they roar. They sound closer to a freight train, a tornado. It’s a sound so loud that it sets off a primal kind of terror, even without the heat and the smoke to add to the danger. What I’m saying is that it’s something that’s very difficult to crawl towards, yet there we were.

I couldn’t see the little girl, but every time I began to panic she would reach back and touch me. The heat grew and I could smell my hair burning, my clothing threatening to catch. The floor was excruciating, and while I didn’t realise it at the time, I was in the process of receiving third degree burns on my hands and knees from the floor alone. I felt faint, the heat making my head pound. It seemed to drain my of my energy, and during those last seconds – as we passed directly past the floor where the inferno was at its worst – I was sure I was running only on pure animal instinct to get away.

Then we descended into the hallway below the fire, and it was all gone. The heat lingered, but it was nothing compared to what it was before. The smoke was hazy grey, high up by the ceiling. The little girl was tugging at me, and I realised I’d collapsed to the ground.

“Quickly, mister!” she said now. “Not far!”

In my pain and confusion, it didn’t occur to me that she wasn’t burned; that she had no difficulty breathing. She tugged hard at my clothing, and while I didn’t know that my clothing was alight at the time, later I remembered and wondered how she had done it. With her prompting and encouragement I made it down the last of the stairs and out into the hotel’s lobby, which was shockingly untouched. Alarms were blaring, but the room was free of smoke and many of the hotel’s employees remained there, grabbing people as they emerged, coughing, from stairwells and hurrying them outside. When I stumbled into the lobby I was immediately tackled by several employees who were, I was later told, beating the flames from me. I had stumbled into the lobby on fire.

I don’t remember anything else. I didn’t have time to mention the girl. I passed out, and was kept in a medically induced coma while my body recovered from serious burns. I very nearly didn’t make it, and when I awoke I had several months of painful operations and skin grafts to go. My hands were badly burned, though the doctors managed to save nearly all my fingers – I’m only missing the little fingers to the first knuckle, and while the scarring is bad I can use the hands well. My knees are badly scarred but functional. My back isn’t pretty to look at, but it doesn’t bother me now, not outside of itching in the heat. I forgot about the girl until just before I was released from hospital, five months later, but to my relief I was told that no children had died in the fire. Whoever she was, she had gotten out safe.

Almost a year later, my grandfather died. He was the son of my firefighter great-grandfather, and when my own father and I were around his house, sorting through his things, we came across some of my great-grandfather’s stuff. Medals, a few old photographs of the family, some letters. My father and I went through the pictures, my father pointing out relatives and telling a few stories here and there. What you would expect from such an occasion, really – but then I found an old picture of a little girl.

I recognised her immediately as the little girl I had seen in the hotel – there was no denying it. The picture was an unpleasant one, taken post-mortem, and while half of her body was badly charred the other half looked as though she could be sleeping. Her hair was the same, the bow singed but present. The dress was the same. I could even still hear how she sounded. Come on, mister! I was so shocked I didn’t say anything. My father looked at it for a long moment, and then he gave a sad sigh.

“I wish he had found out who she was,” he said. “That haunted him. He felt like he failed her.” He took the photo from me and looked a little more closely at it. “Nonsense, of course. He did everything for that little girl. I’m sure she would thank him if she could.”

She did, I thought. She did.

#creeptastic #creepypasta #my creepypasta #writing #my writing #short story #fiction #back at it again with the spaghetti afraido

[albino-whumpee]

The Pet´s party

A bit of my take in what could go wrong if a Romantic went touch starved in purpose. Also, a little secret I´ve been dying to write is unveiled today!

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread​ @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

TW// Pet whump, dehumanization, slavery, noncon drug use, abuse, non con touching, conditioning, public humilliation, alcohol. Slight NSFW at some points.

Albus was standing in front of the mirror in his room. A few suits were scattered above the bed as he prepared for the party at the Glass residence. Apparently it had been Robert´s father idea to hold it in his house. He had a hunch Robert had a more active role on it, but nor Zarai or him could refuse to go. It was the company owner´s party after all. Even the trainees would attend it.

He put a purple tie in front of him before shaking his head and switching it with a grayish blue. He smiled to himself before stretching his neck to start tying it.

He stopped suddenly. Passing a hand over his bare neck.

“Albus come here” she had ordered him after they got home from work that day. He had trotted to her, putting his hands behind his back. Then she had lifted his chin with a single finger before loosening his tie. He flinched a bit, but held himself still after she pulled her eyebrows together. He squeezed tightly one hand with the other “Sorry” she said unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. Making him gasp slightly.

“Ma´am?” She passed her fingers over the white leather as Albus breathing quickened. Zarai exhaled slowly before nimble fingers unbuckled the collar and took it away.

“You won´t need this at the party today” Albus blinked before shyly putting his hand up and touching his neck. Put off by not feeling the familiar weight on it. “There won´t be shock collars this time either” she finished putting the collar over the dining table. “I made sure of that” she said stretching her sore shoulders.

Albus passed a thumb over the other before walking to her. Slowly, he passed his arms around her and gently squeezed. She went stiff, but didn´t pull away. “Thank you, ma´am” Zarai heard him whisper, before she pulled her own arms up.

Albus adjusted the knot of his tie before walking out of the room. A smile on his face that seemed to be contagious. As Zarai smiled back at him as they got on the car.

—

Finally there, Albus watched in awe the place Sann lived in and frankly, he was intimidated. Everything was luxurious and impeccable. The spacious halls full of marmol and fine wood, filled to the top with equally fine ornaments and extravagant objects.

Servants ran around giving drinks and food to everyone without rest. Referring to him as “sir” with a smile on their face despite their eyes telling they were two seconds away of dropping in exhaustion.

In the garden next to the pool, gourmet food was prepared and made a show about while a band played.

However, it wasn´t the champagne Tony and Sasha drank as if it was water, or the ice sculpture Jeremy was trying so hard to take a photo of, what Albus was looking for.

He had asked around the hall, the gardens, inside the mansion, to stationed servants and butlers, but nobody knew where Sann or Robert where. A bad feeling settled harder in his stomach as time passed.

He was walking through a hall when he found Sasha and Zarai trying to find out who could drink quicker a bottle of tequila. Some liquid dripped over Zarai´s black palazzo but that didn´t seem to bother her. The whole team broke into hollering and whistling when the woman lifted the bottle in the air triumphantly and Sasha collapsed in laughter. Albus was happy to see her having fun.

He handed her a napkin as Tony helped Sasha stand up. Trivial conversations continued even as the music began to melt into the night sounds until there was none and the alcohol took away the worry.

It was almost 3 am when Robert hugged Albus from behind.  

“Hello darling” he whispered into his ear in the same honeyed tone Jefferson had used back then, making him jump away with terrified eyes. “Oh, sorry, didn´t mean to scare you” Robert said with that foxxy smile coming to his lips “Happy to see you enjoying the party. Congratulations on the Dune project. You did a great job” he said, looking around as Albus held his arms over his chest “Where´s Zarai? She will miss the big surprise in the hall”

Albus swallowed the fear, but couldn´t hide the shaking of his legs “Surprise?”

Robert looked at him and then smiled.

“Go find Zarai and go to the hall, Albus” he commanded him. Mechanically, he set into motion to complete the order.

She found her sitting on a chair on the garden, laughing along Tony and Sasha. He breathed in and out over and over, trying to sooth the violent trembling rattling his bones before walking to them.  

“I thought you were scarier boss” Sasha said with a short sigh.

“Nah, it´s just the face” she joked pulling her cup to her lips but stopping at the last second “But, maybe I softened up a bit” she said lost in her wine “you can relax a lot if you have capable assistants” she pointed at Terrance who was singing with the guys from development “You did a great job of softening that guy up, Sasha. He was insufferable three years ago”

She was about to reply when she spotted the albino trembling on a corner.

“Hey, Albus?” she stood up, walking closer “You ok?” 

She barely tapped his shoulder when he turned to slap it away. Eyes wide and scared. 

“Nope, you´re not. What happened?” after a few seconds, his face twisted into recognition, followed by embarrassment.

“S-Sorry. You surprised me. It´s nothing” he said eyes nailed to the grass as Zarai and Tony walked to them. After a moment they were among a full crowd in the hall.

“You sure you´re ok?” Sasha asked him, getting a nod from him before turning to find a thick wall of people whispering to each other. “What´s this?” Sasha asked to the person in front. But they only shrugged. 

“Good evening, everyone. First and foremost, thank you for coming today” Robert´s voice echoed through the tall halls as a servant tapped Albus shoulder and made them follow him to the middle of the sea of people “In behalf of my father, I would like to congratulate you for the great performance of our company in the Dune project” he started clapping, making a bang of applauses drill Albus´s ears. Finally, Zarai and him got to stand next to Robert “Specially to our Marketing head, Zarai Montenegro and her assistant, Albus Serra” between the claps the trainees shouted “Mister Serra!” with an energy that made him blush. ”He´s got fans” he said making a wave of little laughs. “So, I´m giving you full access to your biggest, beloved fan” he said as a servant struggled to pull something from a rope.

A half naked figure stumbled to his feet as whistles made a round, dizzy eyes trying to find the hands touching him through the crowd but failing to focus. A violent tug on his collar made him fall to his knees, barely catching himself with wrists tied together in a red ribbon.  

“Sann!” Albus shouted. Making the boy look on his direction. Eyes sparkled as he tried to lift himself up but failed. Earning even more laughs. Albus tried to run off to him, but was intercepted by Robert himself.

“Not so fast, lover boy” He said pushing him back to Zarai. Robert twisted his lips into a grin “You know? He´s a sweet romantic. He gets really sad if someone doesn´t touch him in a while. So I made him extra grateful for any touch today” he walked to the boy and crouched. Then he extended his hand in front of him and the boy leaned into it, kissing his palm all the way to the wrist before he wripped on the least and dragged him to stand. Robert pointed to the small bulge on his shorts “Look at that,  wish my salary went up that fast too” he said savoring their disgusted faces. “He´s pretty and needs all the attention right now, so I´m giving him off for the night to one lucky guy as prize for such a magnificent job on the Dune project! Or gal. He´s suited for all”

“Stop this, Glass” Zarai growled grabbing his elbow, but the man only laughed as if expecting that exact response.

“My lady! But what show would we give if there´s no pet doing tricks for us?” He said taking out a control from his pants and showing it around “What do you say y´all? Should I show you a better entertainment instead of my pet?” He looked straight into Albus´ direction “Should I show you your favorite pet´s act?” Zarai didn´t know what he was talking about, but she tried to fish the remote off his hands. “So hasty!” he laughed, walking away “Now, let me set some rules! To win a night with this gorgeous boy, you need to do three things” Albus suddenly felt the room getting energized. A few faces actually eager to take on the challenge. He only saw Sann being held straight by the leash attached to his collar. “One, adjust your glasses” he shouted. Zarai gave up on trying to take the control and walked to Albus.

“Go for him” She ordered. Nodding, he walked taking his coat off.

“Two, drop to position 34” the moment he said that, Sann dropped to the ground and sticked his butt out, knees apart to give full view to the people behind him. There was a moment of silence before Zarai saw Albus was doing the exact same.

“Albus?” She said, watching the boy trying to pull himself up, face red and scared of how his body had moved on its own to a position he shouldn´t know. A position only romantics should know.

“Hold it” Robert said as Albus slammed his forehead back to the ground, unable to resist the order.

“Stop it Robert!” Zarai cried, trying to lift Albus off the floor but the boy´s body refused. As if suddenly it wasn´t his. “Albus stop!”

“And now say “I´m just Zarai´s slut”” He said before putting the photos Jefferson had taken in the projector behind him, just censored enough to keep the most private parts off.

Click, click, click

He remembered the sound. Albus didn´t need to look up to understand what everyone was seeing. Some put their phones up in awe. Others simply had their jaw open, horrified. He closed his eyes and breathed in hard. Hearing Sasha and Tony rushing through the crowd to get to him. But he stood up making all eyes follow him to where Robert was.

“I´m just Zarai´s slut” he said with eyes cast down. He saw the microphone get closer to his lips and when he lifted his eyes, Robert delighted himself on the humilliation on them before he whispered again, this time his words echoing through the whole mansion “I´m just Zarai´s slut”

“Good boy” Robert said, ruffling the albino´s hair “Looks like we got our winner” he announced to the silent audience. “He´s all yours. Be sure to bring him back” he sing songed before the whole hall heard the slam of Zarai´s hand making his head whip to a side.

“Puto malparido” she heaved, feeling a sharp sting on her hand.

Robert simply smiled “What made you get a romantic Zarai?”

“I didn´t. He´s not supposed to know!” Robert shrugged.

“The handlers must have been bored out of their minds then” He said ironically. Pleased with her face, he took away the photos. “Thank you for attending today. Hope you enjoyed the show” he had the nerve to say before Tony grabbed his tie and put his fist up.

—–

Albus walked to Sann taking off his coat in the way and knelt to cover Sann with it. The servant extended the leash to Albus but he was more focused cupping Sann´s face, searching for injuries on his body. The pet leaned on to the touch, giving him a kiss on the wrist that freaked him out. 

“Oh god what did he do to you?” he whispered as he quickly untied the ribbon on his wrists. Not expecting him to jump on him in a kiss, so deep, he went red immediately.

Albus had to push him away and see in full display the pet´s erection. Covering his mouth with his left hand he noticed Sann´s lips tasted like a drug…  Albus scrambled to cup his face and hopefully cover him from outside eyes. 

“Look at me. C´mon Sann, look at me” he said, gently, making teary eyes stare into his. Hearing a dry thud behind him. He tried to keep his voice calm “You´re drugged. This is not what you want to do. Not like this” He searched for the boy with a bratty smile below the pained face from being rejected, craving affection as if it was air. Albus bit his lower lip before putting away the hand trying to go up his thighs. “No, Sann”

Sann leaned on Albus and started rubbing his nose against his face, trying to make his way to a kiss. But Albus whipped his head to a side. Running out of patience, Sann tried grabbing his face and make him kiss him, but the boy froze when red teary eyes fell on him.

Albus covered Sann´s hand and let himself lean into it. Soothing it with his thumbs. 

”Come back, Sann. Please” He said, never breaking eye contact. Even as a tear rolled down his cheek into his own hand “Please, stop…” Sann stared back with a frown. Any intent of furthering action dropped, as he let Albus put his hand back in his lap.

Sann took away the hand after a moment to sign.

“Hug?” Albus thought he asked, looking worried he would say no. But instead his eyes softened as he nodded. Opening his arms to receive the other with a thud. Sann buried his face into his chest as Albus ran a hand through his hair and tried to not think about the little metal studs poking against his chest.

Albus sighed as he pulled his coat to cover him better. Soothing his back slowly.  Albus lifted his eyes to catch Sasha staring at him with furrowed eyebrows. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. 

 “I´m sorry I didn´t tell you” he finally said after a moment.

She took a deep breath and crouched. She pulled the bracelet covering her wrist, revealing a burn mark. Exactly where the numbers should be. The boy´s eyes widened and pulled them up to see her smile. 

“I never asked” she said. “It´s gonna be ok, yeah?” She wiped away the tear rolling down the boy´s face with her thumb

Zarai stood above both of them. Her eyebrows in a tight knot. Albus hugged Sann closer, protectively, hearing a small purr from him.

“I´m sorry, ma´am. I-I just…” She crouched to hug them both.

“He forced you didn´t he?” at his silence she sighed, collecting the albino in her arms “It wasn´t your fault” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, Albus couldn´t resist any longer and broke down crying. Sann lifted his head up with a worried face and hugged him tighter.

“Let´s go home” she said pulling away before the boy sniffed and nodded.

Sasha and a bruised Tony helped them put Sann on the back of the car. Albus sat next to Sann, soothing his hand with slow circular motions as a sheepish smile sat on his face.

Robert was standing outside talking with Zarai sporting a bright purple bruise on his cheek that didn´t seem to bother him at all.

“I´m giving you until tomorrow night” he terminated, making her go stiff “I don´t see him one minute later and I´m sending the cops to bring him back. Understood, princess?”

“I´ll bring him myself. With a lawyer” he leaned into the man, a sharp stare that made him hold his breath “You´re abusing him. Even for pets, what you have done to him for two years is torture. You better prepare yourself”

“You wouldn´t…” his little smile vanished as he saw how serious she was before she turned on her heels and walked to her car.

“See you in court, Glass”

The man was left speechless, as she drove away and turned right to take the highway home. 

As the sun began to appear on the horizon, Albus tried to suffocate the question slowly drowining every and each thought at Sasha´s quick explanation: How does a pet become a person again?

#you came back a stranger #writing #whump #pet whump #abuse #tw noncon touch #tw conditioning #tw public humilliation #tw alcohol #bbu #box boy whump #tw dehumanization #tw slavery #tw human trafficking #collars #mute whumpee #tw suggestive #drugged whumpee #drugged #emotional whump #My writing #albus #sann #robert #zarai

[poisonedapples]

Domestic Life (Was Never Quite My Style)

Summary: Even with a baby Patton who refuses to go to sleep, Roman finds himself having the loveliest night with his family.

Warnings: The song “Dear Theodosia” and one “blink and you’ll miss it” mention of parental abandonment. It’s mostly adorable fluff

Pairings: Romantic Logince, parental Royality and Logicality

Word Count: 2,522

Taglist: @noodles-07 @didyouseerichohisawrich @look-ma-im-on-tv @somehow-i-got-an-account @depressed-stressed-virgil @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @ohlookanotherdumbfanboy @jamie-writes-things @adoratato @boopypasta @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth @beyondthestacks @changeling-ash @hold-our-destiny

Notes: Happy anniversary to the best boyfriend in all the land, @romansleftshoulderpad, who has been there through everything good, weird and awful. You’re amazing, and even though my Writing Machine broke and had me change my present idea four times, hopefully you’ll appreciate some fluff nonetheless.

(Also shoutout as always to my friend Cornybird on Ao3 for editing my stuff I owe you like five squishmallows)

Roman and Logan were always the couple that no one could have possibly guessed. Roman was wild and untamed; always aiming for the best of the best, striving to conquer the impossible and prove everyone who doubted him wrong.

There always seemed to be so little time for him. He wanted to write, sing, dance, act, create, and he refused to let trivial things get in the way of that. Even as a hopeless romantic who dreamed of marriage, it seemed like his running on pure adrenaline made it impossible for him to make friends, let alone a husband.

Logan wasn’t much better. He wasn’t very invested in the arts and had (arguably) more achievable goals, but he still couldn’t stand to not be the top of his class. He wanted to be idolized. He wanted a kid who felt as helpless as he once did to look at him and get hope for the future. He wanted respect, and he was determined to gain it.

But that led to him overworking himself. Logan had a habit of working late into the night to put efficiency over self care, to drop everything that could get in his way and absorb himself in his own goals. Yet just like Roman, self isolation led to loneliness, and his personal expectations made him deem himself unworthy of a partner and family, no matter how untrue that was.

On the outside, they looked like people who were too busy and in their heads to enjoy the little things. Logan passed up warm showers and movie nights to get his ideas out on paper, and Roman passed up coffee shops and strolls through the park to create bigger and better things. But for the longest time, on the inside they were lonely. And only one person could see that enough to break through.

No one expected them to get to this point. The point where they’d been happily together for four years, Logan’s engagement ring carefully placed in the same box that Roman had given it to him in on the bedside table. But it was real anyway, and Logan was fast asleep, while Roman’s brain was thinking about too many fantasy worlds for him to calm down enough to doze off. Instead, he ran his fingers through his fiancé’s hair and watched him sleep peacefully on his chest.

Roman could have spent his entire life in that position. Just him and Logan, his adorable love looking peaceful and happy as Roman protected him from the world. If he wouldn’t be risking waking him up, Roman would also be peppering kisses all over his face, but he took a mental note to do that in the morning instead. They were going on a date tomorrow after all, and those always ended in lots of kisses and cheesy flirts Logan would roll his eyes at. But Roman thought his faux annoyance was adorable, so he used pickup lines at least three times a week.

But that was tomorrow, and tonight was tonight. And nights were a child’s favorite time to break the peace.

Roman could hear babbling from the room across from them, as well as from the baby monitor next to the bed. Patton was already squealing “dada” a little bit, and Roman knew from experience that he was getting ready to cry for them. It broke his heart every time Patton cried, so he gently pushed Logan to the bed and kissed his hair. He didn’t squirm, so Roman shimmied off the bed and smiled at Logan one last time as the baby talk got a little louder. He knew the drill by now, so Roman grabbed his guitar before he left and went to Patton’s bedroom. Music was the fastest way to get the little guy back to sleep.

Roman opened the colorful door to his son’s nursery. Only a pale blue nightlight gave light to the room, revealing a crib with a babbling baby holding onto the rails. Patton still couldn’t walk, but he was getting pretty good at standing in place, so the day would come at any time now. 

Roman gave his baby a tired smile. “Hello, sunshine. What are you doing awake? Princes need their beauty sleep!”

“Dada, dada, dada!” Patton babbled, jumping as much as his tiny legs could using the spring of the crib’s mattress. Roman didn’t bother going to the crib and picking him up, though. He learned a long time ago that a rocking chair doesn’t make Patton tired anymore; he only squeals with excitement like it’s a baby rollercoaster. Roman experimented one night and played Wonderwall on his guitar as a joke when Patton refused to calm down, but it was the fastest the little guy had ever been lulled to sleep. Since then, Roman immediately picks up his guitar and lets Patton relax to that instead.

“What’s the request tonight, little buddy?” Roman asked as he sat in the rocking chair and strummed some of the strings. “Frère Jacques? Hey Soul Sister? Or do you want a song Dada really likes?”

“Dada!” Patton squealed.

“A Dada song? Excellent choice!” Roman leaned back in the chair and thought about what he may want to play. Logically he knew Patton only said dada because it was the only word he knew, but Roman liked to pretend his baby was the smartest boy in the entire world, even if his farts still scared him and he slapped his hands on every new surface he found. If he grew up to be anything like Logan, then Roman knew that he would have a bright future. “Now...what would I maybe want to play…”

Patton let go of the railing and let himself fall on his butt back to the mattress. He crawled over to his favorite stuffed frog and held onto the fur tightly, which Roman thought was objectively the cutest thing in this world. Though then again, everything Patton did was adorable. He was at the perfect age to steal the heart of everyone, and call Roman a lovestruck dad all you wanted, but his baby just blew his breath away.

“Hey, little froggy, how about we bring back an old favorite? Especially since me and Papa have been watching the Hamilfilm a whole lot!” Patton giggled in response, so Roman nodded his head. “Alright then, let’s see here…”

Roman placed his fingers on the neck of the guitar and strummed the first cord, testing out the tune. When he was satisfied, Roman strummed out the beginning notes of the song, and already Patton began to seem mesmerized by it.

“Dear Theodosia what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother’s name. When you came into the world you cried and it broke my heart…” Patton shoved one of the eyes of his stuffed frog into his mouth, listening intently. When Patton was first born, all Roman did was sing this song to him. It seemed to fit so well given their situation. Logan always went on about how Patton had Roman’s eyes, even though Roman expected Logan to mention that it was obvious Patton would have some of his traits. He was half Roman after all, and Logan was hardly one for sentimentals anyway. But then again, becoming a dad had made him a lot softer than Roman could ever imagine.

“I’m dedicating every day to you, domestic life was never quite my style, when you smile…” Roman looked over at his baby. He had a little smile on his face, but Roman also guessed that was just the permanent position Patton’s face was in. He seemed like a happy baby almost all the time, give or take a few sick days and the time Patton saw a spider for the first time. “...You knock me out, I fall apart, and I thought I was so smart.”

Roman didn’t know if he was smart or not. His fiancé said that intelligence is more than book smarts and street smarts, and Roman had his strengths just like he had his flaws. But insecurity was a wild thing, and though Roman put on his best facade of greatness, he was only human, and humans have a strange perspective on self worth. Though no matter how intelligent he was, Roman had long accepted that Patton could break down any tough walls he or Logan put up. After all, it had been quite the sight to see Logan sob from happiness at holding his baby for the first time.

“You will come of age with our young nation...we’ll bleed and fight for you. We’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

Roman strummed out the notes in between lyrics for longer than he had to, but it was okay when his audience was a baby who didn’t actually know the song. “Ready for one more part, buddy?” Patton didn’t respond (obviously), he only looked up at Roman with big eyes. “Good! I know it’s your favorite part.”

“I have to admit that it is mine as well.”

Roman’s strumming stopped in its tracks when he heard the familiar voice. He looked across the room to the door where his adorable fiancé stood, his hair messy and Roman’s stolen pajama shirt making him look considerably tinier. If Roman wasn’t so tired, he’d scoop Logan up and swing him around the room for being so adorable. “What are you doing awake, love?”

“I can hear you singing from the baby monitor that’s a few feet away from my face.” Roman’s cheeks flushed red, but Logan didn’t care. He walked over to Roman at the rocking chair and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, giving a kiss to the top of Roman’s head. “Did a certain little froggy decide to have a party past his bedtime?”

“He woke up, yeah. I’m trying to put him back to sleep.”

“Did you check his diaper?”

Roman blinked. “...I did not.”

Logan sighed, but he shook his head fondly at his forgetful fiancé. Roman always went to the more complicated solutions before thinking about the basics, but at least he was trying. If Patton had started to cry, Roman would have eventually realized to check those things anyway.

Logan picked up Patton from his crib and took a sniff of his diaper. He smelled clean, which was good, but putting a baby to sleep who simply didn’t want to rest was harder than having something specific to fix. Logan kept Patton in his arms as Roman strummed on his guitar again with a smile.

“I still have to finish my song, Logan. Care to join the late night party with us?”

Logan smiled. “It’s Alexander’s part, correct?”

“Don’t act like you don’t already know. You love this musical as much as I do.”

“Fair point. How about you sing to us, then?”

“Could you do me the honor of singing alongside me?” Roman asked.

Logan felt his face heat up. “...We’ll see.”

Roman didn’t push it anymore. He knew Logan didn’t like his singing voice, even if it was objectively the best thing Roman could ever possibly hear. But when Logan got some time to ease into the idea, he would eventually slide into it.

Roman started strumming again, and the song picked up once more. It was just that with Logan around, the energy of the room felt all the more alive. “Oh, Phillip you outshine the morning sun. My son. Look at my son!”

Patton smacked both his hands on Logan’s shoulder. Logan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pride is not the word I’m looking for. There is so much more inside me now…”

Logan began to sing, and Roman almost stopped in his tracks with awe. “Oh, Phillip, you outshine the morning sun. My son.”

Patton looked up at his dad with the most adorable baby smile. At the sound of both his parents and his favorite guitar, Patton began kicking and bouncing in Logan’s arms. The song was meant to calm him down enough to sleep, but instead the little guy decided it was the perfect time of day of a dance party. The worst part was that neither Roman or Logan had the heart to argue with him.

Instead, they both began to sing together as Patton bounced and smacked his hands. “When you smile, I fall apart. And I thought I was so smart.”

The music changed a little bit, and Roman and Logan both knew what came next. It was a part that hit them both close to home, but they’d practiced that section way too many times to not be prepared. Roman took the part of Alexander first. “My father wasn’t around…”

Logan held a dancing Patton tighter. “My father wasn’t around.”

“I swear that I’ll be around for you. I’ll do whatever it takes…”

“I’ll make a million mistakes…”

Roman stood up from the rocking chair and strummed louder as he stood beside Logan. Both him and their son smiled as the two came back together for the song. “I’ll make the world safe and sound for you...will come of age with our young nation.”

Roman laid his head on Logan’s shoulder and Patton was merciful enough to stop slapping and put all his energy into bouncing up and down instead of smacking Roman in the face. “We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you, and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday...yeah, you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

The two parents held the last note as Roman strummed out the ending of the song. When Roman finished with that final strum, Patton still danced until the note had become too quiet to hear. Once he stopped his bouncing, Roman set his guitar down on the floor long enough to grab Patton’s hands and make him clap. “Yay, bravo, bravo! A wonderful musician and his beautiful dancer!”

Patton squealed nonsense in response as Logan moved to steal Roman’s place at the rocking chair, being careful not to rock it in case it only riled Patton up even more. “I don’t think he’s been calmed down by your song, Roman.”

“Well…” Roman grabbed his guitar again and sat on the floor in front of the rocking chair. “That just means we have to let him dance out the energy, right? Then tomorrow, we’re absolutely recording him dancing to this. I would do it now if I wasn’t tired.”

Logan chuckled. “I will try to remind you.”

“But until then…” Roman placed his fingers back on the strings and strummed the first note. “Care for another round, my love?”

The smile Logan gave off mixed with the happiness of their baby was an image Roman swore to cherish forever. “Of course, my prince.”

When Roman began to strum, their precious baby boy started to dance once more.

#ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #tss roman #tss logan #tss patton #fluff #logince #royality #logicality #familial royality #familial logicality #romantic logince #platonic royality #platonic logicality

[dragonheart-swtor]

Imperial Agent Storyline: Drunk History Version

Since people really seemed to like the last one! Y’all’s collective wish is my command. Spoilers for the Imperial Agent storyline, obviously. Enjoy!

- so you start out with your agent on Hutta, a little polluted slimeball of a world that literally everyone but the Hutts canonically hates. there's lore but we're going to ignore it. the important thing is that you're here to con a Hutt, always a dangerous gambit, into working with/for the Empire.

- you sneak into a corner to space facetime your boss, a guy we only ever know as Keeper because Intelligence is weird about names. sneaking into corners to facetime people is a repeating theme throughout the story.

- you are informed that you've already got a cover story set up, and you'll be posing as an infamous pirate called the Red Blade who'll be able to get in close to the Hutt in question, whose name I've forgotten. Nethro or Nefro or something.

- "wait, what about the actual Red Blade," you ask your boss, probably

- "he's halfway across the galaxy, you don't need to worry about him," your boss replies, in a textbook example of what we in the writing business call “foreshadowing”

- (spoiler alert: you need to worry about him)

- but we won't worry about that for now. bada bing bada boom, you stroll on into the Hutt's place. you are immediately confronted by a guy who, shock and horror, actually knows the real Red Blade and knows you ain't him. (one would think that all-seeing Intelligence would have known about him, but nuance.) this is a problem for a number of obvious reasons.

- your options are as follows: bribe him, kill him, or sleep with him. (this is also something of a recurring theme throughout the story.) whatever option you take, he's dealt with. (yes, this is the man eris fucked five minutes into her storyline.)

- (I didn’t want to pay him money, leave me alone.)

- anyway, the mission progresses smoothly. meet the Hutt, do some jobs for the Hutt, betray the Hutt's right hand and stab him in the back right after convincing him you were friends, invade the Hutt's rival's palace, McMurder the Hutt's rival, you know. your average day at the office

- most of the way through, the Hutt's other right hand starts to be suspicious about you. this is Kaliyo Djannis, and she will be Plot Relevant™.

- by which I mean she shortly thereafter walks in on you facetiming your boss and gets hired by Intelligence to help out for gods know what reason. welcome to your first companion

- (or possibly you walk in on her facetiming your boss in your room, I.. don't remember, honestly. something like that.)

- anyway one Hutt is dead the other is working with us bada bing bada boom this is going great and hey remember when I said you needed to worry about that guy you're impersonating this whole time? yeah, about that,

- so the real actual Red Blade comes sailing in to Hutta and Intelligence immediately calls you up like "hey, hate to bother you, but your cover's about to get blown in a big way and we need you to murder the guy whose identity you've stolen before he can expose you.” 

- "so, just like that training mission last week. gotcha, boss, no problem."

- murder time™

- congration you done it! go home to Dromund Kaas.

- "You're on Imperial soil now, agent. Welcome home." [nonhuman Agent immediately experiences 27492738957 microaggressions] (this joke isn’t mine, for the record)

- first off, Intelligence HQ has a bomb aesthetic, as does the entire Empire in general

- second off, you do walk in on your boss talking to - by which I mean "being given a speech by" - a Dark Lord, which is less than optimal for a number of reasons, first and foremost that speeches by Dark Lords of the Sith quite often immediately precede someone getting killed

- said Dark Lord is one Darth Jadus, who will proceed to be a thorn in your side for approximately the next three hours of gameplay

- (don't worry, after that three hours you'll get a worse thorn)

- Darth Jadus decides he likes you and declares you "his" agent, which you immediately get the gist is about the worst thing that can happen to an Intelligence agent from the way everyone around you treats you like you've just had a ticking bomb strapped to your back for the rest of this meeting

- you're sent on a handful of missions, including one to the Dark Temple which, you know, Force-deaf people aren't supposed to be in, but Jadus Does Not Care

- Jadus calls you into his office at one point and tells you he's going to do some ritual to bind you to his service or something, it's not really clear, but it's clearly Not Optional and also terrifying in concept

- now, quick sidebar. there are basically two paths to take here: one where you suck up to the Sith and treat them with the utmost care and respect and fear like you're kind of supposed to, and one where you mouth off at every opportunity. Eris is mortally terrified of Sith, so she just kind of.. submitted knowing she was going to die if she didn't.

- my second run, however, was just a "hey how bad can I fuck this up" character because I already knew the story.

- I decided to mouth off to Jadus at every opportunity, including adamantly refusing this ritual.

- "What can he do to me?" I asked the person I was playing with. "I'm the protagonist! It's not like he can kill me!"

- Jadus: *kills me*

- me:

- (mechanically, anyway; story-wise I'm sure he just. put her on the brink of death. but mechanically speaking he literally actually did kill my toon)

- (this should be a warning for exactly how much this storyline is willing to put its usually-heavily-plot-armored protagonist through.)

- anyway.

-  do some missions, blah blah blah, Sith possession in the Dark Temple, blah blah blah, you know the drill

-  well, turns out Jadus is going on tour with several hundred Imperial civilians, military, and Sith, allegedly all hand chosen, to share his ~vision for the Empire~. that's all well and good, whatever I gue-

- sorry what do you mean his ship exploded

- what do you mean a member of the Dark Council just blew up in orbit

- cue Kill Bill sirens

- Panic! At The Intelligence HQ

- this throws everything into chaos; not only was Jadus more directly involved in Intelligence, but he was a Dark Councilor so now there's a massive power vacuum

- the Sith who ends up filling this power vacuum? Jadus's daughter, Darth Zhorrid.

- remember when I said you'd have a bigger thorn in your side after Jadus?

- so yeah. so Zhorrid is, for lack of a better word, fucking terrifying

- she's sadistic and completely careless of others' lives or wellbeing and oh yeah she also instantly latches onto you even harder than her father did and demands you find his killer

- a lot of your meetings with her aren't really plot-relevant so I'll sum them all up here:

- Zhorrid was horribly abused by Jadus, completely broken. She tells you a story about how she used to sing, and her father hired a tutor, then had her sing at a Kaas City performance until her throat was so damaged she could never sing again. He tore every scrap of joy out of her life, completely failed to teach her what she needed to know to survive the rigors of the Dark Council, and instilled every ounce of hatred, sadism, and complete lack of pity he could in her.

- She kills people for no reason other than a whim, because she was listening to a Sith opera and the aria was "very moving" (an actual literal thing that happens).

- She acts like a complete spoiled brat child. At one point the other Dark Councilors literally beat and torture her, presumably for this reason because she's insufferable and arrogant and way out of her depth, and she cries to you about it

- If you’re like me, your response to all this is basically “cool motive, still murder”

- I have sidetracked  very hard. where was I

- so you spend a while trying to hunt down the people who blew up Jadus's ship. There's a bunch of rebels, you hunt them down, they've got biotech weapons called Eradicators set up to destroy cities on multiple planets, skippity skip to the big reveal

- Jadus is alive, and he organized the whole thing so he'd be able to remake the Empire into the image he wanted. He tortured and enslaved the survivors of the Dominator's destruction

- Jadus gives you a whole speech about how fear is a gift to be shared and "Through victory my chains are broken" but there must be chains to break and blah blah blah holy shit this man is genocidal

- you have three choices: join him for real, pretend to join him so you can sabotage his ship and then kill him (at the cost of hundreds of thousands of Imperial lives), or refuse outright and save those hundreds of thousands of lives but Jadus escapes (and you know he's allegedly likely to return and do even worse damage later).

- (Quick sidebar again, for those who haven’t played it: Eris chose the second option and has nightmares about it for the rest of her life. It's actually extremely haunting in-game - as you're running through Jadus's ship to sabotage it as fast as possible, you can hear the distress calls from various colonies and planets being attacked, the screams of the dying that you doomed. It's horrifying.)

- so yeah there’s really no winning that situation but hey! at least Chapter One’s over. surely in Chapter Two things can’t get worse.

- Chapter Two: Things Get Worse

- there's this guy, Ardun Kothe, an SIS agent. he's a huge threat for some reason I don't remember. you're supposed to infiltrate the SIS to get close to and eventually kill him. not an easy job, but okay, we can do this.

- Intelligence sets up the meeting; months ago they sent the first word to Kothe that there was an Intelligence agent ready to turn and they've been building up from there, sending him a steady stream of information

- enter Hunter, aka the worst bastard in this entire storyline and that is an achievement. He's the one you meet first on Nar Shaddaa.

- you do some missions for the SIS, whatever, it's not important. You finally get to meet the rest of the team - and Ardun Kothe.

- Kothe wants to speak alone, which is p typical tbh. He expresses some doubts, which you assuage as best you can; he gives you your code name: Legate. It's from a form of sabbac, he explains, you'll have to play with him sometime.

- (It is difficult for me to make what happens next funny instead of horrifying, so forgive me if the tone changes a bit here.)

- Everything is going fine.

- "I'm sorry about this, Legate."

- What?

- "Keyword: onomatophobia. Engage Thesh protocols, phase one."

- Everything is not fine.

- You black out and have an extremely rude awakening.

- So it turns out whatever happened with Jadus, the Dark Council decided you were too dangerous (usually for doing your job too fuckin well) and that you needed to be leashed. So not you have mind control programming in your brain, and anyone who has your keyword can take complete and unequivocal control of your body. this is, in a word, not great.

- (This is, as I mentioned, actually extremely horrifying. You have dialogue options and they don’t change what you actually say. You have an opportunity to shoot Kothe and even if you try to select it nothing happens. But we’re not here for the horror take (not today, anyway) so let’s just This Is Fine that and move on)

- Tl;dr you can’t harm Kothe or any members of his team, you’re forced to obey anyone who has your keyword, and this wouldn’t be that much of a problem because we’ll just tell Watcher Two what’s happened and oh wait you can’t tell anyone about your programming either. well, shit.

- You go on to work double agent, like it was planned, with this new, uh. twist

- about a third of the way through the chapter, your mind kind of cracks and you start having hallucinations - seeing things you know can't be real during a holocall, passing out in the middle of your ship and waking up in medbay.

- After that, a new voice lives in your head! Watcher X, someone you either killed or let flee on Nar Shaddaa, has sort of joined the party. Is he an AI in the spinal implant the real Watcher X gave you? is he a figment of your broken mind trying to process its situation? Who knows! Not you! either way, this is not optimal but at least he seems to be being helpful this time

- so anyway we should probably try and figure out how to undo this programming bc Intelligence is being Wholly Unhelpful

- (ASAP, please, especially with how horrible Hunter acts toward you - let’s go with “uncomfortably leery,” which I promise is generous.)

- by the way, your companions still have no idea what’s going on during all this, although they try to be varying levels of supportive (thank you vector I love you bug husband)

- Good news! The Intelligence Archive almost definitely has information on what they did to you and how to fix it. Bad news! You’re definitely not authorized to look that up and crashing the power mainframe to make sure they don’t see you do it sends the security droids after you. whoops.

- Good news! There’s a way to fix you. Bad news! You have to make and inject yourself with a still-kinda-experimental cocktail of chemicals and it may or may not give you permanent brain damage. it’s fine. this is fine.

- also it takes a while to kick in which is Less Than Optimal and by the time it finally does you’ve just been left with a binding order to stay and guard the door on what is, for you, a suicide mission. there’s some incentive to “break your chains” for ya.

- You fight and kill Kothe. Who, shock and awe! is an ex-Jedi! this was in no way painfully obvious by how he kept talking about “sensing” things, I’m sure. definitely not.

- Hunter escapes, because of fuckin course he does. Hunter, who suddenly seems far more in control of everything than he had before. Hunter, who knows far more than he should. Hunter, who ends up leading you to a much, much larger conspiracy.

- End Chapter 2.

- Hate to disappoint, but Chapter 3 is honestly the least interesting to me personally, so this’ll be brief compared to the previous chapters

- You spend a lot of time hunting down this much larger conspiracy, including Hunter specifically. There's a lot of betrayal and secret reveals. (It's not tedious by any stretch of the imagination, but the story beats definitely don't stick in my head as well as the first two chapters, even after two playthroughs.)

- you go to Voss and, in order to get into a Voss-only archive, get married to a person you just met before almost immediately leaving the planet (and your new spouse) behind. this is never mentioned again.

- you get hold of a holorecording from the Star Cabal, the big conspiracy. problem: the holorecording contains a trap for the brain-enhanced Watchers, and now half of Intelligence is in a vegetative state. this is not optimal.

- partially as a result of this, Intelligence basically gets dissolved, which is Not Great because it puts you right under the thumb of yet another asshole Sith lord

- the Watchers are recovering, though, so that’s something. Watcher Two, now Keeper (the old Keeper got promoted), contacts you so you can keep working on this Star Cabal thing.

- you get intentionally captured so the Star Cabal can torture you and you can “break” and give them false information to lead them into a trap. you are immediately afterward expected to get back to work like nothing happened. this is never mentioned again.

- You track the Star Cabal to their base, way out in the Unknown Regions iirc, and infiltrate it during a meeting of the top agents.

- murder time 2: electric boogaloo (well, more like murder time 45, to be honest, but shh it’s fine)

- You fight the Star Cabal guys, chase Hunter through the whole place, and finally corner him.

- (Salt warning ahead on my part for the next story beat, if you can call it that.)

- Hunter, when beaten, reveals what I personally think is the most bullshit stupid reveal in the entire game: he is actually a she, and has been using a stealth field generator (or something similar) to change his/her appearance the entire time. There are multiple interpretations of this - "he's trans" is my least favorite, sorry-not-sorry, because a) it's pretty clear she still considers herself a woman and Hunter is just a convenient persona, and also b) a clearly predatory man is absolutely horrid representation as far as playing into harmful stereotypes about trans people, thanks. Personally, my rather cynical interpretation is that they wanted one more shock value reveal at the end of the storyline and I guess couldn't come up with anything better. It's my least favorite thing in the whole IA storyline.

- anyway, that's not really important. I just needed to be mad about it for a minute. ignore me. moving on

- The important part is this: what you gain from the Star Cabal's base is an item called the Black Codex, an ancient piece of technology with the power to erase all records of a person's existence.

- Unless you are very stubborn about it the Agent’s reaction to this is basically “oh thank fuck I’m freeeeeeeeee” and you fly off into the hyperspace sunset with your crew, giving middle fingers to the Sith whose grip you’re escaping all the way. which, really, who can blame you.

And that’s the Imperial Agent storyline, folks. Roll credits. I’ll probably do the Bounty Hunter storyline next while it’s still fresh in my mind, but I could also do the Sith Warrior storyline probably if y’all’re more interested, vote now on your phones.

#unfortunately I don’t remember jack shit from the Jedi Knight storyline #so until i finish replaying it y'all're just gonna have to hold your horses on that one #swtor #imperial agent #drunk history swtor #i have the original much more serious version of me summarizing that first scene with kothe in drafts btw #should anyone want to see it #it's the version where i actually tried to get across to someone who'd never played the game the absolute horror of that scene #and was; i think; fairly successful #the notes on the sith inquisitor post have finally slowed down so i think it's time to post this one

[imhereformr]

Prompt 9 for tecmy? 🥰

9: There's only one bed and we sleep as far away from each other as possible but wake up cuddling

There were supposed to be two beds. How hard was it to make sure there were two beds? Tecna wouldn’t consider herself a normally violent person, but she had half a mind to beat whoever had messed up senseless. It took a minute before she remembered that Musa had been the one to make the reservations and the realization that Musa had likely messed up on purpose hit her hard – like she would possibly do to Musa.

She and Timmy had been sent to Oppositus on a scouting mission to see the state of the realm after Valtor’s attack and to figure out what they could about the attack and Valtor. When the girls had learned Timmy would be the only specialist going, they’d instantly and mercilessly volunteered Tecna to go with him. Honestly, Tecna was happy to go – she and Timmy were a couple, after all, and it was a great opportunity to spend some time together – but this single bed scenario was too far out of her comfort zone. They’d hadn’t kissed that much; they were nowhere near sharing a bed.

“Well, looks like they don’t have any other rooms available” Timmy announced as he entered the hotel room. “Apparently a lot of homes were destroyed, and people have been staying in hotels.”

Tecna nodded silently, running her hands over her thighs nervously. Timmy took a seat on the plush bed beside her and stopped her hands from rubbing through her pants. Once he was certain she wouldn’t inadvertently start a fire, he laid back on the bed, stretching his arms out into the down comforter. At least Musa had had the foresight to get a double bed and book them in a nice hotel instead of a cheap motel. That didn’t mean Tecna would forgive her though.

“I think there’s a sleeping bag in the ship” Timmy told her, sitting back up beside her. “I can sleep on the floor while we’re here.”

“We’re here for two nights, Timmy. I don’t want you to be tired and uncomfortable because of me.”

Timmy shrugged and gave her a soft laugh that made her heart bounce out of her chest. “I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places than a hotel room floor. I don’t mind.”

Tecna was about to object, but the redhead was out of the room and on his way to the ship they’d parked out front that took up much more than their allotted single parking space before she could speak. He returned five minutes later with a blue bag the colour of the Red Fountain uniform rolled under his arm. His head swiveled trying to figure out where to set up before he accepted that the only spot was beside the bed; the room was nice, but it was far from big.

Once the sleeping bag was unrolled, Timmy came to the unfortunate realization that he would not be able to sleep in it. “This must be the one Brandon accidentally spilled coffee on during our last mission... I guess he forgot to get it cleaned...”

“It’s okay, Timmy. We can share the bed.”

“Are you sure?” He looked up at Tecna, who wore an inscrutable expression. He knew Tecna had boundaries and that she took time to open up to certain things. Besides their first kiss after their time in the resort realm, they’d only kissed a handful of times and Tecna was only now beginning to initiate them. This would be beyond her comfort zone; he had no doubts about that, and the very last thing he wanted to do was pressure her.

Tecna insisted it was fine and abruptly announced that she was going to get ready for bed before Timmy could argue or she could change her mind. She wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea, but it was the only option besides Timmy sleeping on the floor – which she refused to let happen. As she brushed her teeth, Tecna tried to rationalise that it would be fine; it was a big bed, there was plenty of space for both of them.

When she exited, Timmy was already in his pajamas. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed under him, snacking on a donut hole. He offered her one, but she refused, citing her freshly brushed teeth. Timmy brushed his own teeth and the two of them settled into the bed. As if sensing her discomfort, Timmy kept himself on the far side of the bed. If he moved anymore, Tecna worried that he might fall off the edge. She worried she might fall of the bed as she herself was also precariously close to the edge of the bed.

It took Tecna close to two hours to fall asleep. She was too distracted by her pounding heart, Timmy’s light snores and the heat that she could feel radiating off of him. Eventually, somewhere close to 1am, she drifted off to sleep.

When the alarm they’d set the night before rang, Timmy grabbed the phone from the bedside table and turned it off without ever opening his eyes - a bad habit he’d developed during his first year at Red Fountain when they’d been forced to get up at 4:30 for drills. He returned his arm to its previous placement and was surprised to find that the torso wasn’t his. He finally opened his eyes, and was even more surprised to find Tecna’s head on his chest. The fairy was mumbling something about telling Musa to turn her music off. Most shocking, however, was that he was still near the edge of the bed and Tecna had scooted across the king-sized mattress to him.

Timmy considered waking her, but he was very much enjoying the proximity. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, he told himself as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. He hooked his arms around her and nestled in closer.

When Tecna woke half an hour later, she was a combination of shocked and embarrassed. The proximity, however, was nowhere near as uncomfortable as she feared it would be. In fact, it was nice. Really nice. Nice enough that once she’d gotten over the shock, she laid her head back on his chest and threw her arm over his body. Maybe she could understand why the other girls loved cuddling with their boyfriends so much.

Eventually they’d had to get out of bed to work on their mission, but when they went to bed that second night, there made no pretense of trying to staying apart. They laid in the middle of the bed with Tecna’s head on Timmy’s chest and his arms wrapped around her. The couple fell asleep almost instantly and remained curled up together until the next morning. The next evening when they’d get back to Alfea, Musa would ask how everything went and Tecna would have forgotten all about her desire to assault the musical fairy. Instead, she’d give Musa no satisfaction, just a quick ‘fine’ and an enigmatic smile.

#winx club #winx #winx tecna #winx techna #winx timmy #tecmy #prompts #winx fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #tecna x timmy #timmy x tecna

[woolishlygrim]

So, like the Camelot arc films, the Fate/Grand Order Solomon arc film is actually really good, and like the Camelot films, it touches on the kernel of good writing that makes the rest of Fate so very frustrating for me.

Because both the Camelot films and the Solomon film have, at their core, these stories that are simultaneously really personal and humanistic but also really grand and epic, saying Big Things about the nature of humanity while also telling character-driven stories, something that Fate is uniquely positioned to do because all of its major characters are historical figures with sweeping, epic stories already attached, meaning that half the work is already done when you want to drill down into that and get both a personal character arc and a story that says Things about life and history and kingship and all that stuff.

The idea that Excalibur is a metaphorical representation of King Arthur’s humanity and attachment to the mortal world, the bridge between the mythic king and the flawed human, is a genuinely fresh, interesting idea. Building a story around that, where the goal is to return Excalibur, exploring ideas of personal connection and loyalty and devotion to people versus devotion to ideals is actually masterful writing, especially because those are all themes in the myths of King Arthur anyway. Devotion to people versus devotion to ideals is the soul of Arthur’s downfall, after all: He makes an enemy of Mordred because his ideal of law means he cannot act on his devotion to people and acknowledge Mordred as his son; he drives away Lancelot and Guinevere because his devotion to the same ideal of law means he cannot forgive or permit their adultery, no matter how much Arthur the person might want to. That conflict is the core of the Arthurian mythos, and the Camelot films explore it from a different angle but still in an interesting way.

The idea of Solomon seeing the suffering of people but being bound to do nothing about it, because that’s the nature of the world God created and he refuses to place himself above God, is a fascinating angle to take on his story. It’s not an angle the actual myths would ever take, but it’s an interesting interpretation, rich with moral and ethical questions, ripe with theological ideas. The idea that Solomon’s ultimate victory comes from the acceptance of himself as a mere mortal, imperfect and unworthy, works as a continuation of Solomon’s mythological story, where for all his wisdom he’s eventually brought low by his own imperfection. 

Fate/Zero has these really interesting philosophical ideas at play. There’s a richness to the idea of King Arthur, Alexander the Great, and Gilgamesh sitting down to drink together and discuss the nature of being a king, whether it means being a servant of the people and a vessel for their desires, or an aspirational figure whose excesses and larger-than-life presence inspires others to reach for power, or whether it means that you’re above the concepts of good and evil and above the judgement of others. There’s something genuinely compelling about seeing someone whose philosophy boils down to ‘it’s okay to kill one person to save two’ having holes picked in that philosophy just by following it to its logical conclusion.

... But also, because this is Fate, those interesting kernels of great storytelling are buried in just. Nonsense. If you want to get to them, you have to wade through some of the most incomprehensible, badly thought out worldbuilding, attached to a series that is about 50% some of the most cloying, weird fanservice (irritating at best, outright nauseating at its worst); and 25% people sitting around explaining a magic system that’s made entirely of exceptions to rules and exceptions to exceptions to rules; and about 10% utter inane garbage.