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readychilledwine · 4 months

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Runaway Love

Summary - Amren and Rhysand's sister have begun to grow closer since Feyre took her duties from her. Amren, seeing she's hurting and needing time away, invites her friend to Summer, she just didn't plan on happened next or having to explain it to Rhysand - Tarquin x Rhysand's Sister reader - told from Amren's pov

Warnings - none I can think of. Lots of italics?

A/N - a side from some Tamlin smut, we are at the end of my maternity celebration, which means we will go back to our regular updates 💜 part of me wants to turn these two into more, but that may be a project for another day

Amren watched from the hill as Tarquin and you sat facing each other in the sand. Your foreheads were rested against each other, fingers laced together.

You two had done the one thing your brother had made Amren promise to prevent from happening. You two had left the seaside Palace late in the night, when everyone else was fast asleep and gotten married on the very beach Tarquin now held you on. Married under the watchful gaze of Summer’s high priestess and the stars.

By time Varian and Amren had found you, the ceremony was done. Vows had been exchanged, the kiss had been shared, the priestess had left. You two had been there, standing as the waves lapped your glittering white dress, just staring at each other.

A throat cleared next to her, turning to her own lover the ancient being sighed. “How will you tell him,” He asked softly. “He will want to know why she refused to come home.”

Amren looked down at you again, a smile forming on her lips as Tarquin tilted your chin up and kissed you. “I will tell him the truth.”

Rhys sat down, Feyre having left the room with Nyx as soon as tension began Building over Amren's avoidance of her mate's questions.

Violet eyes stared at her, waiting for an answer to the question that was hanging in the air like a cold unwelcome breeze. Rhysand rose a brow to Amren and Varian. “Do not make me ask again.”

Amren finally answered, voice showing no signs of emotion as she sighed. “She is not coming back. She is staying in Summer with Tarquin.”

Rhysand's gaze darkened, “And why Amren, did you as her chaperone allow her to make that decision?”

Varian answered, feeling the need to defend his own lover. “Your sister is a grown female. She does not require permission from-”

Rhys growled, gaze going to the visitor in his court. “I did not ask you. I asked my second in command why SHE did not perform her duty to protect my sister and bring her home.”

Something in Amren snapped in that moment. Her loyalty to y/n coming forward.

She couldn't help but to growl at the High Lord as Varian shifted uncomfortable next to her. "When was the last time you paid attention to her, boy? The last time you actually listened to one of her mission reports instead of telling her to leave it in your office?”

Rhys opened his mouth to defend himself only to pause as Amren snarled at him. "You have not given y/n a single ounce of care since your mate came. You even stripped her of her duties to her home and court so your mate would have a place." Amren settled back into the chair, not even realizing she had stood in her anger until Varian gently grabbed her small hand in his.

"They married, Rhysand." He said softly. "Unless you plan on ripping the bride of the High Lord of Summer away and starting a war, there is nothing you can do but ask to visit.”

The High Lord's face fell. “They-” He shook his head, “She wouldn't have willingly married him without myself, Azriel, and Cassian there.”

Amren looked at him again, her eyes then lingering on Rhysand's wedding band. “There was a time where she believed the same of you.”

His head hung in shame. “Show me.”

They both shook their heads. “We weren't there,” Amren said calmly. “They knew I had specific orders and made the choice to get married in the dead of night. By time we found them, it was done.”

Rhys stood turning away and walking to the window to hide the tears that were about to fall. “Then show me them leading up to the decision. Show me she is happy.”

Amren couldn't help the small smile, a rare thing gracing her face, as she thought back to their first day in Summer.

Tarquin smiled down at Amren, welcoming her back to Summer as he motioned towards the veranda where a table was set for 4. Cressida was there already, eyes wide as she stared behind Varian.

She stood immediately, telling a servant to get another chair and moving so she would not be at her cousin's right hand. "I brought another guest with me,” Amren stated coolly. “I hope you do not mind.”

A soft gasp was heard, followed by the voice that would haunt the Night Court until they heard it again. “Amren! You did not warn him you were bringing me? You-”

Tarquin was moving to her, to his mate, immediately, taking her soft hands into his. “Y/n,” his voice was breathless as he studied you. Eyes locking on your own the second he had decided you were well. “This is the most wonderful surprise. Even the sea has become more fair in your presence.”

Amren chuckled as a blush spread from your cheeks to your softly pointed ears. “I believe your seas only reflect their master's emotions, Tarquin,” you stated softly.

“Then they calm while my heart races at the sight of you alone.”

Varian had his own favorite memory in mind. One from a night spent on the Pleasure Barge.

Varian watched like a hawk ready to attack anyone who may approach you or Amren. The two of you had your arms linked, whispering secrets to each other as he watched the sheer skirts you two wore sway in the soft salty breeze.

You had not been on the barge before, having been banned from it during your last visit by Rhysand, and the two older fae were excited to bring you to watch the activities taking place.

Tarquin had come beforehand, ensuring the private balcony you would be watching from was perfect for his mate.Varian knocked on the door as Amren told you to behave as she went to their own balcony.

He opened the door and ushered you in. “I trust you have an idea of what will be happening here tonight?” Varian led you in by your waist, holding you close to him as the guards watched. “If at any point you are uncomfortable, tell my cousin.” You nodded, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you stared ahead.

Tarquin was standing there, his back to you two as he moved pillows exactly how he wanted them for the night. He had brought in expensive champagne for the two of you, chocolate covered fruits, flowers.

It was clear to Varian you had never been truly courted in that moment. You had never had another fae ensuring everything was perfect for you and you alone. That they had brought the best for you and you alone. He bent down to your ear, “Be good, little star.”

Amren had thought of another memory, smiling again as she heard your laughter echoing in her mind.

Varian and Amren had found a shady spot on the beach, enjoying cool wine and fresh fruits and cheeses on the beautiful, warm day.

The ocean was gorgeous today. Soft waves rolling in, a breeze cooling the air.

That same breeze carried your laughter as Tarquin chased you through the sand. The two of you had just come out of the water after you had decided a swim was absolutely a must.

Amren immediately froze as you screamed, panic setting in until she realized it was because Tarquin had caught you and lifted you into his arms. Your back was to his chest, legs kicking out as your head fell back and your laughter filled the air again.

“He's moved her things into his room,” Cresseida mumbled. “Tell me, dear Amren. How will Rhysand feel about his precious baby sister breaking all of his rules while she's here without him? Sleeping in Tarquin's bed. Wearing a Summer Crown. She is sitting with him during court meetings. Need I bring up the nights on the barge?”

“Let them be, sister.”

“Do you plan on dealing with him if be storms here with his Illyrians in tow?”

Amren rolled her eyes. “Rhysand has hardly paid y/n a single mind since Feyre came to the Night Court. She was brought here on that first visit as a distraction without knowing what was happening. If Rhys wants to be upset, he can speak with me.”

Tarquin was carrying you over, holding you bridal style as he smiled down at you. The tail end of his sentence could be heard. “Tonight then?”

“Tonight,” you whispered.

“And then they married,” Rhysand concluded at the end of Amren's memory. He sat back down, head in his hands. “Did-” his throat tightened as Azriel and Cassian walked in. “Did she look beautiful?”

“Breath taking,” the Summer general answered immediately.

Amren ran to the hillside by the beach they had spent the day on. “No no no no,” she kept muttering under her breath. “This damn girl-”

Varian shot an arm out to stop her. “Do not say-"

“It's done, my goddess.” He pointed down the beach. There, just barely in the water, you and Tarquin stood. He had both hands cradling your face as he kissed you. The white dress you had packed, the one that was lightweight and shimmered like glitter, was sparkling until the light of the full moon. Your hands were resting on Tarquin's chest, hair flowing in the wind.

You were glowing, like starlight during Starfall, as your foreheads came to rest together. Varian sat in the grass, pulling Amren down with him as he did. “Beautiful little creature,” he said, nodding down towards you. “and her beautiful chaperone should not take this as a failure on her end.”

Cresseida joined them, tears in her eyes as she sat next to Amren. “It's the perfect ending, is it not? A runaway wedding?”

Amren shook her head as you and Tarquin turned towards them, hands held and fingers laced together. As you walked, you looked up at him and only him, trusting him to guide your feet to your friends. “No,” Amren finally said. “It is a perfect beginning.”

Silence had filled the room as Cassian sat, and Azriel just nodded. “So, she isn't coming home then,” Cassian said slowly. “And our little sister now resides over a court I am banned from.”

Azriel nodded, moving to the window Rhys had previously stood in front of. “Did she say anything to you before you left, Amren?” Azriel looked over his shoulder at her. “Anything at all?”

Varian nodded. “Be happy,” the couple said together. “Be happy and take the leap.”

Amren held her own left hand up. There sat a sparkling large diamond centered in gold and rubies. “I will be packing my things as well, High Lord.”

Rhysand sighed heavily, nodding. “Do you plan on a year-long engagement?” The two nodded. “I am happy for you, both of you.”

“And your sister?”

Rhysand shook his head. “Her I will deal with later.”

Taglist - @kemillyfreitas @biancabldss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @hnyclover

#acotar #acotar x reader #tarquin x rhysands sister!reader #tarquin x reader #tarquin acotar #tarquin

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partycatty · 3 months

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you write for mk11 gramps johnny? have serious brain rot for him

if so could you write a fic of him dicking us down for being a brat? u can make up a plot or not i just need it and need him. love ur writing either way!!

- 💙

alright, im using this ask but i have a very specific image for this rn. this is gonna be a meaty post so hear me out

older!johnny cage > waste ur time

this is based off of the song WasteUrTime by Kevin Walkman with some lyrics (in pink) sprinkled in. you and johnny have a clear age gap, trying to avoid giving into desires, but 3am rolls around and you consider the idea of having a late night visitor.

warnings: smutty, age gap, ur both horny demons, virgin reader, i dont know how military ranks work, affair, sonya never gets Rocked

notes: this is going to be a little more artsy that what i usually do, so apologies if the format change is not ideal. this is more of an actual fic than bullet points. also the lyrics are out of order and not all included, so you don't need the song to enjoy this!

word count: 2.6k

[ masterlist ]

give me a glass of your innocence.

training was hard, your skin glistening with sweat and your face flushed from overexertion. the task was relatively simple; to climb up a deeply sloped wooden platform using nothing but your grip and momentum. your comrades were cheering you on, including briggs, commander cage, her mother, and her father. straining yourself to grip the ledge of the platform, you finally hoist yourself up and stand upright, not before doubling over to pant.

the others applaud and surround you with cheers. a firm hand finds its place square on your back, rubbing in circles.

"atta girl," the voice leans into your ear with an audible grin. "knew you had it in you."

your head turns to thank the disconnected voice, but out of your fuzzy mind, the realization pulls through that none other than your superior, johnny cage was the one congratulating you so intimately. his praise makes your cheeks flush even darker and your gaze averts, too afraid of such direct appreciation which johnny notes. you weren't used to compliments.

this is my creation, here's your invitation.

you knew something intense was brewing with each lingering stare or gentle squeeze to your shoulder. how intense exactly, you couldn't pick out. with minimal experience with others lusting for you, it didn't register in your head at first just how hungrily he gazed at you. not that you were complaining necessarily, he was part-time action star, part-time military leader. he was built, charismatic, and a family man. it felt impossible to not feel weak in the knees around him.

johnny knew he had an effect on you, as he did most others. despite watering down his hollywood charisma, he couldn't bring himself to deny how sexy he was at his older age. something about a buff salt and pepper man telling you what to do had you following commands like a dog, doing anything it takes to have him praise you more.

even still, you couldn't do anything about it. johnny was a married man. his family was your coworkers, hell, it was their job to command you! the guilty thoughts would creep up on you no matter how badly you wanted to avoid them. couldn't you have chosen a more... single man?

you seem so damn nervous.

"how can i be of service?" johnny asks, leaning his front half forward ever so slightly to show you he was interested in every word that dripped from your lips. your vision was too blurred from anxiety to properly articulate what you needed from him, so you nervously swirled your drink. damn the special forces and their free alcohol parties.

"how do you do it?" you ask with a stammer. "earthrealm, netherrealm, tarkatans, ninjas, thunder gods. it all feels so unreal. how do you stay so calm?"

"mm," he hums, lowering his own glass after a brief sip. "well, you get used to it. turns out i was born to a mediterranean war cult's gene pool. watched my daughter kick an elder god's ass while i got maggots down my throat. went face-to-face with younger me. there are just some things that are too damn ridiculous to ever fully understand, so i accept it for what it is. when you're my age, fighting for all of these otherworldly things, most of the little things feel like a walk in the park."

"don't get me wrong, sir, i'll fight for earthrealm, but this is all so... dizzying."

johnny visibly tenses up at 'sir.' "tell you what," he grabs his drink napkin and opens a sharpie with his teeth. "you ever wanna talk about it with someone that's seen everything, you come to me." he writes his personal phone number on the napkin and places it in your palm with a smile.

you fidget with the paper before pocketing it, worried you'd pick at it too much and rip it to shreds before you could save the digits. the most you could bring yourself to do was half-bow, half-nod before scurrying away to the bathroom to cool your hot face. johnny could only chuckle to himself with a shake of his head.

long walks of shame look so good on you.

a long time was spent staring at the new conversation on your phone. despite your inexperience, there was a simmering feeling that johnny didn't just give you his number to let you vent. he wanted to talk to you outside of work. the thought makes you sweat.

why would he want to talk to you? if he wanted conversation, he would reach out to his wife and kid. he had it all, and yet he still wanted to put everything on the line for you.

you're moving fast, and i'm into it.

"lieutenant. it's reader," you shoot a simple text out, lying to yourself when you justify texting him for the sake of him saving your number. it was late, too late to be texting your superior. another lie you told yourself: i'll just send the message now so he sees it in the morning! your shameful justifications are ripped from you when you receive a reply, almost immediately.

"couldn't it have waited until the morning?" he replies bluntly, and you're ready to type out a spew of apologies before a second text comes through. "i'm teasing. johnny, by the way. no need for titles."

"sorry." you try to remain professional with your response, fingers dancing wildly across your keyboard. your eyes flicker up to the clock in the top corner, realizing it's well into the night. "didn't expect a response so late. have a good night, lieutenant."

you're ready to throw your phone out of the nearest window out of sheer embarrassment, but you stop when you feel another buzz come through. your stomach flips.

"johnny. you usually stay up late?" he texts, drawing the conversation out much to your surprise. "it's 3:30 in the morning."

"my day's been so boring," you decide to lean into the more casual chat, hoping to find a softer side to your boss. you should feel disgusted, repulsed, put off. he was double your age and then some. but dear god, his attention on you was hypnotizing even if it was just words on a screen. "hoping to waste some time before tomorrow comes. lots of training."

johnny's reply takes a suspiciously long time to come through, his bubble appearing and disappearing. just before you thought you lost the conversation, a photo comes through. johnny's laying in bed, hair ruffled and shirtless. his eyes have a soft, pleading look to them and his lips are curled into a pretty smile. the tiniest glimpse of his chest tattoo pokes through the bottom of the image, and you had to make a conscious effort to swallow your drool and close your jaw. you almost don't notice the text attached.

"maybe i could waste your time?"

you choke on your saliva, glancing off to the corner of your room as if an invisible camera was perched there. this man held zero shame, that much was true. you suppose it's from his age. there's only so much time in one life, so he's seizing every moment. it terrified you, to the depths of your core.

"i don't follow," you text back, playing dumb. this was genuinely unbelievable to you, you needed to hear more from his perspective to make sure you weren't actually dreaming or reading too far into his offer.

"come on, girl," he teasingly responds. "don't play dumb. i may be old, but i'm still sharp." another photo slides into the chat, the same idea s his previous one but now fully displaying his torso. his broad chest with his name painted on it was now boldly on display. his hand laid flirtatiously on his abs, fingers spread out. at the very bottom, you could make out the beginning of a thick tent in his pajama pants. it was like every inch of this man was maximized. you'd seen his shirtless form in his old movies, but seeing it now... it was personal. that photo was for you. "i know you're still fucking with me. i see how you look at me." you bite your lip, wondering if maybe sonya was sharing the other side of the bed. your stomach churns.

"i mean..." you leave the text at that, rapidly typing and deleting. you're not quite sure what to say, how to carry this now heated conversation. you'd never... had to before. "if i may state the obvious, you're... older. and my boss. and married."

his replies stop for a good couple minutes. you wonder if maybe he was regretting his advance. you hoped not.

"is it something that you'd mind?" johnny asks, hesitation in his words as he breaks away from his flirty comments. his question makes you ponder. you were a virgin at your age, holding onto this trait longer than almost everyone at a similar age to you. work was your priority, never giving yourself enough time for a serious commitment. but here you were. johnny was throwing something onto the table that you never expected to happen. were you going to pass this up and stay a virgin forever? hell, no!

"sent you my location. let's try something new, lieutenant."

"johnny." he corrects you one final time before falling completely silent on his end. your stomach twists and churns wildly, realizing you have opened the flood gates to a hookup with your boss. you throw your pajamas off and replace them with a cuter, coordinating pair. you brush your teeth again and try to fix your hair into a neater updo, not impacted by the friction of your pillowcase. shoes and various discarded belongings are shoved under the bed and into the closet. you hadn't had male company, well, ever. you had to come off as somewhat decent for him.

jesus christ, your mind grows dizzy. you were going to lose your virginity, now, or in however long it takes for him to arrive at you apartment. you're not far from work, and even still the time it took for you to hear footsteps in the hallway must have been a century at the minimum. you were seriously going through with this because it was about damn time you enjoyed yourself and spiced shit up.

the heavy footsteps come to a halt, the shadow overtaking the faint hallway light glowing. a part of you wants to hide, maybe jump out of your fire exit. your nerves were blinding, and taking the steps to the entrance felt like an olympic sport. that is, until a new text appears.

"let me inside."

do you open the door? leaning against it, you can smell his musk just through the crack alone. damn his hypnotic... everything. if you open the door, his entire career, marriage, and life could be over. that is, if you spill. you wouldn't.

keeping shit a secret fits you like a glove.

you slowly open the door, hand frozen on the doorknob as you're met with your boss towering over you with a heavy look in his eyes. it's hard to avoid his own hesitation too, but his hard breathing betrays his morals. he looks ready to pounce at any given moment. johnny's mouth opens first, but you beat him to it.

"i'm a virgin," you blurt, mind too empty to feel embarrassed at the fact. you felt the need to tell him now, before he was on top of you and you laid there like a fool.

johnny's brows raise up ever so slightly. "what?"

the heat of the admittance catches up to you, and you twiddle with the hem of your shorts. you repeat yourself meekly, letting the predicament set in between the two of you.

"that's..." he trails off, glancing into your room. "um."

"i'm sorry-" your face heats up, your eyes pricking with tears at the awkward air. "i just... i didn't want you to be surprised, because i don't know what i'm doing."

something new stirs in johnny's core as he understands the weight of the situation. his fists clench and he takes a lumbering step toward you. you back up on instinct.

"that's alright," he purrs, voice hitting a new low, one that's far away from his professional volume. "'cause i'll take care of you. i've got you."

he stands up straight, scratching the back of his neck.

"if you'll have me... i guess that speaks for itself. i'm here, aren't i?"

you nod with a nervous chuckle. your bodies move in sync as you figure out where to put your hands. they settle on his neck, wrapping your arms around him to pull him in. his hands hold your waist. jesus, his hands are big. you'd kissed before, so this is familiar territory.

"i'll take that as a yes," his eyes flick to your lips, visibly restraining himself from fully taking advantage of you. he leans in for a tender kiss, your lips and his moving together. it turns heated quick, with his tongue darting out to get a taste of your mouth which you accept gratefully.

johnny's hands trail down to your ass, cupping the underside as if his hands were destined to fit there. he tugs upward, and you understand what he's trying to do. you jump up and break the kiss momentarily so your legs trap his waist. in between make out sessions, you guide him through your apartment to the bedroom. his lips taste bitter like alcohol but cleanly sweet. exactly how you imagined.

your mind is hazy with lust, your pussy clenching around nothing as you envision taking a monster like him for the first time. a part of you wonders if it's even possible. instead of throwing you onto the mattress, he lowers you like a princess, supporting your head and back with each hand which does nothing to help your aching wetness pooling between your legs.

johnny's lips dive to your jaw, sucking and biting tenderly. you wince, but replace the noise with a lustful gasp as he soothes the pain with his hot tongue. you want to clench your thighs together to relieve the throbbing pressure, but johnny's hands pry your legs open as his hips fit perfectly between them. like a forbidden puzzle piece. you feel his cock rub through your pajamas, and your mouth gathers drool.

johnny finds any possible plush flesh of your neck to take in, kissing wetly as he gently ruts into you, not even realizing he's doing it. he needed to explore every inch of this new body, this new lover... his mistress.

if you were to start praying for forgiveness, it'd be now. you internally cursed sonya for getting her hands on him before you could. your chest burned with jealousy and desire. he was so evilly delicious, and every inch of him needed to be inside before you'd start sobbing. your hands fly forward and tug him forward by his waistband.

"need you," is the most you can coherently ask for, blinded by your horniness. johnny pulls away from your collar, panting in your face. he can't bring himself to look directly in your eyes, your wet, pleading eyes.

"you..." he swallows thickly, brows knitting together. he frowns. "you can't tell anyone. you know that, right?''

you nod with a small whine. you wanted him to just shut up and fuck you.

"hhh - won't say anything," you huff back, gliding your dampened bottoms across his dick with need. he groans, and buries his head in your neck, a deep sigh sending goosebumps across you skin.

"atta girl..."

so hit me up when you feel down i'll make your ass stay 'til sundown i understand what you've been through 'cause I'm a sorry sucker too i know you're scared and that's alright just let me love you for the night

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mk11 #mortal kombat smut #marley writes ☆

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lightwise · 28 days

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Hidden Monsters

For some reason this has been a bear (dragon, Vrathean, pick your Star Wars creature) to write, but I realized after this last episode of TBB that there was more to the “monster of the week” trope that we all love to get tired of in Star Wars, and specifically for our beloved Batch members. I believe that some of the main “monsters” each member of the Batch has faced and could face represent inner turmoil and the storms/dark things within that each of them has had to wrestle with. The choices each of them have made to tame or calm or live with the creatures they have encountered, instead of automatically killing them or choosing violence against them, is a powerful metaphor. Something that looks like a monster on the outside may not necessarily be a monster on the inside, when cared for and acknowledged properly.

Echo and the Rishi Eel

Echo’s very first mission on Rishi station involved a giant monster, a droid army invasion, watching his superior officer die in front of him, and losing most of his squad along with the entire outpost he had been assigned to help defend. After the Rishi station is overrun by battle droids, Echo, Fives, Hevy, and Cutup escape through an air vent only to land in the middle of what turns out to be the Rishi eel’s nest. Echo is second to last in line and has to watch as Cutup is snatched up by the eel right behind him and swallowed whole. Echo is the only one to look back and commemorate Cutup with his name and a sigh before they have to keep moving. He does the same at the end of the episode when they lose Hevy, thanking him for his self sacrifice. Echo’s mind—strategic, careful, hesitant, wanting to do the right thing—is always on his brothers and their safety, and his own fears and questioning give way to courage and determination as he watches his brothers do what needs to be done.

This formative experience is literally emblazoned on Echo’s chest and becomes part of his identity when Rex shoots the eel in the eye, wipes some of its blood on his hand, and presses it against Echo’s armor as he encourages him to keep going. This combination of bravery, looking death in the eye, and holding compassion for each of his brothers as they fall continues to be a running theme throughout Echo’s character arc—from holding 99 in his arms as he dies, to hanging in the Techno Union chamber where his mind and body were used to hunt down the brothers he loved, to overcoming the changes and loss he’s experienced and finding a new family with the Batch and Omega, to coming full circle and joining Rex to help free his brothers from the Empire’s grip. He has had to watch as brother after brother is taken away from him, but he has learned how to keep going in the face of loss. These experiences bring out who he is—caring, loyal, brave, resolute, and a symbol of endurance—and trace back to the very first monster he had to face.

Hunter, Omega, and the Ordo Moon Dragon

In season 1 the Batch is newly on the run from Kamino after Order 66, finding Omega, and losing Crosshair. They crash onto an uninhabited planet and while trying to repair their ship, an Ordo Moon Dragon makes off with their capacitor, leaving them stranded. Like the Zillo beast seen in season 2, it feeds on energy but is actually peaceful when not provoked. Hunter wants to track it down, by himself, but Omega insists on accompanying him. While tracking the creature, Omega brings up Crosshair’s absence, and Hunter is unwilling to even say Crosshair’s name, and he is very uncomfortable with the conversation. He is unwilling and unable to face his demons right now, and instead is wallowing in self-blame. Hunter won’t be able to fully face his inner turmoil until Crosshair returns and they encounter the Wyrm on Barton IV, another dragon-like creature which also burrows underground (although it is much, much larger, and more harmful than the Ordo Moon Dragon, signifying how much Hunter’s avoidance and resentment grows over time as it is not dealt with). It’s also interesting that this episode cuts back and forth to Crosshair fully under the influence of the chip and wiping out Saw Gurerra’s insurgents in a very violent manner.

Hunter ends up being knocked out by the creature and Omega takes her flashlight and his blaster to complete the mission, going alone into the tunnels where the dragon lives. What Omega learns is that she doesn’t need the blaster to deal with the situation. As scary as it is, she doesn’t have to kill the dragon or use violence against it, as it’s simply hungry and looking for food. The terrifying creature becomes a thing of beauty, green electric shocks running over its rainbow colored body, illuminating the tunnel and Omega’s face as it feeds on the flashlight she throws to it in exchange for their capacitor. The visuals mimic the teal and green rippling over the Vrathean that Omega and Ventress encounter and have to calm down in season 3 (more on that further on).

However, this wasn’t Omega’s mission. It was Hunter’s, but she ends up completing it for him. Omega learns a valuable lesson here, which fits in with her natural tendencies of drawing both people and animals to her caring, compassionate nature instead of judging them based on appearance, but I’m not sure that this was her ultimate trial in facing her own inner demons. (See my thoughts on why this is important at the end of this essay in the Ventress section.) This also was a failed attempt for Hunter, and he would end up facing his trial again in The Return in season 3.

Wrecker and the Rancor (Muchi)

Wrecker was introduced as a character whose expertise is in explosives and making things blow up. He lives for making a ruckus and having a good time, but his strengths are engineered to be used for destruction.

Much of Wrecker’s character arc in season 1 is learning how to become more of an adult/parental figure for Omega, and how to put his own desires and needs aside in order to help take care of hers (letting her eat first, making a room for her in the gunners nest, watching out for her). In Rampage, the Batch is charged with rescuing a “child,” who they eventually find out is a young, ornery, and decidedly huge Rancor. Wrecker is the only one of them strong enough to sedate the creature after a lengthy bout of essentially hand to hand “combat.” They needed to bring Muchi back alive and Wrecker ends up gaining mutual affection and respect with her. Muchi is now calm and tamed enough that Omega can ride on her back with no fear or worry of danger.

Rancors adhere to a strict social and familial hierarchy, and have to challenge the alpha for authority. Wrecker starts out brash and boastful, and even though he is always caring, he becomes much more aware of his surroundings and his standing in their family unit as he grows in his responsibilities toward Omega. Rampage is shortly before his chip goes off, where he almost kills his entire squad. While his brute strength is an asset when used in the right ways, it is lethal if used for the wrong ones, and through his family bonds (especially with Omega) Wrecker is ultimately able to overcome the worst, chipped version of who he had been made to be, and instead be a source of safety and strength for Omega and his family.

Tech and the Zillo Beast

The Zillo beast is a marvel amongst Star Wars creatures. Its armor is impenetrable and highly valuable, and it feeds almost exclusively on energy, which allows it to become larger and morph into an even more powerful creature. When the Batch encounters it in season 2 in Metamorphasis, it tries to attack all of them, but Tech is the only one who is “fascinated” by the creature rather than scared of it. Similar to the Zillo beast feeding on energy, Tech’s mind was what he was known for, and he “fed” it by constantly consuming and integrating data about the world around him (which is transmitted by energy currents). During this episode Tech is confident in his own capabilities and extremely interested in learning more about the cloning technologies they were uncovering on this crashed ship. Tech’s research on the Zillo beast, while helpful, unfortunately comes too late and the Batch are unable to either put down or recapture the creature before it grows too strong for them to deal with. In the process, the Zillo beast escapes and is eventually recaptured by the Empire.

I’ve always been fascinated by the point in this episode where Tech is downloading the rest of the information from the terminal onto his data pad, and Hunter warns Omega that Imperials are inbound. She immediately tells Tech they need to go, and he refuses for a moment, saying he needs to finish capturing the data. If Omega did not pressure him to leave (and the electricity go out), he very well could have been standing there when ships bomb their location a few moments later, and gotten both himself and Omega killed for no good reason. At this moment his love of knowledge is overpowering his common sense and his love for his family, and it almost costs him everything.

Contrast this to a few moments later when he pulls Omega out of danger as they leave the ship, and Plan 99 when he chooses to sacrifice himself not for his own gain, but solely so his family has a chance to live. He had to face his greatest asset where it could also be his greatest failure, and learn how to prioritize and wield his strengths.

Crosshair and the Vulture

In The Outpost in season 2, Crosshair has spent almost two seasons engulfed in poor choices made both against his will (the chip), and of his own volition (staying with the Empire no matter what in pursuit of a sense of purpose and loyalty). His decisions are starting to grate on him and have led him down a dark path, but he hasn’t been fully ready to find a way to change them. When he lands on the icy planet of Barton IV, he encounters fearsome ice vultures shrieking overhead. He is told by the outpost’s commanding clone officer, Mayday, that the creatures are vicious, but admirable, because they find a way to survive.

Vultures signify both death and cleansing and are often feared and viewed with disgust, yet are an integral part of nature. Crosshair’s isolation and status as a clone soldier have put him in a precarious and often misjudged position, in ways he doesn’t even fully realize until this episode. His very life is in danger due to the Empire’s stance toward the clones, but so far Crosshair has believed that he is valuable to the Empire in ways that the regular clones are not. This attitude and perspective are severely challenged by Lieutenant Nolan, who speaks contemptuously both about and to every clone he encounters. Nolan’s lack of respect for them as soldiers, as officers, and even as people, is an extreme look at what Crosshair’s callousness and misplaced loyalty could lead him to if he is not careful. His fate is hanging in the balance.

After being sent on an inhumane mission to retrieve two crates of armor in a blinding snowstorm, Crosshair and Mayday are caught in an avalanche. After coming up out of the snow gasping for air, Crosshair could choose to get himself back to base and leave Mayday behind. Find a way to survive in the cold on his own, but kill the last of his compassion and personal values in the process. Instead, he chooses to put his life even more at risk to bring Mayday along with him.

Unfortunately for both of them, when they get back to base, Nolan has zero sympathy for their self-sacrifice, and allows Mayday to die unceremoniously on the platform from his wounds. Once again, a vulture is circling overhead, waiting to partake of its next meal. It signifies the threat of death but also Crosshair’s struggle and desire to survive. Crosshair is now staring his own lack of value and expendability in the face, and where he finds himself is now fully intolerable. He cannot continue on the way he has been without the very essence of who he is breaking irreparably in the process. Does he reclaim who he is, a compassionate and forceful individual who protects those he cares about? Or does he fall in line with what the Empire wants from him, knowing he will be discarded regardless?

Crosshair integrates his lesson in a visceral manner, his own personal traits mimicking the very essence of the ice vulture as he finally reorients his moral compass, takes a stand for himself and for his clone brothers, and takes vengeance on Lieutenant Nolan. His caution and inner turmoil are channeled into one desperate act as he becomes an agent/angel of death, the framing of the scene creating vulture-like wings spread on either side of him. He doesn’t expect to survive this encounter, choosing a path that looks like death on the outside but is cleansing and redeeming for him on the inside. He can now face the future as his whole, integrated self.

Hunter, Crosshair, the Vulture, and the Wyrm

The vulture and its meaning for Crosshair, as well as Hunter’s cut-short encounter with the Ordo Moon Dragon, both have their bookends in season 3’s episode The Return. Crosshair has seen immense character growth after his choices in The Outpost, and has not only redeemed himself but has been given the chance to start reconciling with everyone he has hurt. This episode has two creatures that serve two important purposes: the vulture returns as a metaphor for Crosshair’s need to reconcile with and forgive himself, and a new creature, a giant wyrm (nice Dune reference there, Star Wars) highlights the fractured rift between him and Hunter, and the anger, distrust, and resentment that Hunter has been running from since Aftermath.

The Batch has returned to Barton IV, and Crosshair is greeted by the ice vulture as they land. The weather is calm and clear this time, and the creature is observing him but not in a threatening way. At the same time, tensions rise to a breaking point between Hunter and Crosshair and a long-awaited argument starts between them. Before it can be resolved, the wyrm erupts out of the ground and puts all of their lives in danger. It had been kept at bay previously by high-pitched noises, (oddly similar to Hunter’s enhanced senses, which he has been so distracted from that he wasn’t aware of the danger ahead of time) and lived underneath the same snow that had buried Crosshair and Mayday.

In their efforts to draw the creature away from the outpost so they can turn the sensors back on, Hunter falls through the snow into the wyrm’s tunnels. Crosshair has already had his inner journey underneath the snow on Barton IV. This time, Hunter has to finally face his own struggles. Every step of the way he has been running and hiding, trying to keep his family and Omega safe by keeping them away from the Empire, away from Crosshair, away from danger, but failing miserably. This time, Hunter could simply let Crosshair haul him back up to the surface when he reaches the spot where Crosshair and Batcher have dug a hole in the ice to pull him out. But he hasn’t confirmed that the wyrm is actually past the boundary and that it is safe to turn the perimeter sensors back on. This time, Hunter stays below the surface, and keeps himself in harms way until he is absolutely sure that his family is safe and that his own emotions have been worked through. He is starting to take responsibility for his journey. His senses start to kick in again and he refuses to leave the tunnel until the wyrm is barreling down his neck, and then he finally accepts Crosshair’s help. Both of them run to safety, the perimeter beacons turn on, and the wyrm is now on the other side of an invisible barrier of sound, harmless and chastened until it finally slinks away.

The boys exchange glances and nods. Their rift has been bridged and they are both willing to move forward, together. This is proven by the end of the episode, where Crosshair, who has remained closed off and unwilling to discuss what he’s been through, opens up slightly to Hunter before they leave, and Hunter responds with forgiveness, acknowledgement, and hope for the future. And for now, it’s enough. Crosshair looks into the sky and watches the ice vulture flying overhead once again. Except this time, it flies off into the sunset, signifying that his lessons from this planet have been fully learned, that the spirit of survival in the face of death that he has been carrying with him can now be put towards living and thriving again. Both Hunter and Crosshair are leaving slightly more whole than when they first arrived, both as individuals and in their restored relationship with each other.

Ventress, Omega, and the Vrathean

Omega gets a second chance at taming a terrifying creature in The Harbinger in season 3. After Asajj Ventress shows up on Pabu to help the Batch figure out the m-count conundrum that makes Omega’s blood so valuable to the Empire, (and after Omega has begged her to stay and test her capabilities), she and Omega go out onto the ocean to test Omega’s potential Force sensitivity. (Also after Ventress had to whoop the boys’ backsides to get them to slightly trust her, but we won’t go into that here).

Throughout this season, (and really for most of her life), Omega has…not been doing well. Her time on Tantiss, leaving the rest of the clones imprisoned there behind when she and Crosshair escaped, and the relentless pursuit of her by the Empire has truly traumatized her and made her single-mindedly want to know why she is always in danger and putting everyone else around her in danger as well. Her mental health has been spiraling a bit and her inner turmoil is starting to rival Crosshair’s in season 2. She knows that m-count is important and is also thrilled at Ventress mentioning the Jedi, while the rest of the Batch and Ventress herself are very somber about the prospect that Omega might have Force capabilities. However, in her desire to have answers, she ends up being very impatient and frustrated and doesn’t even show her typical level of optimism and concentration in working through Ventress’ tests for her. It’s almost like her goal (finding answers) is at odds with what her idea of finding those answers looks like.

After having tried and failed to “reach out” to the Force to summon anything, Omega pouts and sits back down in the boat, seemingly defeated. Ventress has asked her to try to connect to nature, probably because she has seen Omega’s connection to Batcher and assumes that might be more in line with whatever her gifting might be. Two of Omega’s main traits and strengths are her optimism in the face of defeat, and her compassion toward literally every living thing she encounters. She is always curious, generous, caring, and wanting to connect with others. Which makes it even more curious that she is so easily stumped and disconnected by this exercise. She challenges Ventress to prove why *she* is the best person to be teaching Omega this lesson, and Ventress sighs but gently and carefully shows her powers by calling up a school of glowing green fish from the water. “I’m not the one holding back,” she tells Omega.

After a peaceful moment, however, another creature, this time a giant and tentacled Vrathean, emerges from the water as well and starts hunting Ventress and Omega down. It’s unclear if Ventress actually called the creature up herself or not, but if she did it was not intentional. She helps rescue Omega from the creature’s clutches and then chooses to put herself in more danger by letting it grab her, and communing with it through the Force as it tries to eat her. The deadly creature becomes a thing of astonishing beauty as the color of the sea ripples over its body and its eyes soften and recognize Ventress as a sentient being.

This is where it gets interesting, because this peacefulness, calm, and compassion is not something we would have associated with prior versions of Ventress. Her experiences and growth throughout the Clone Wars, her associations with Ahsoka and Quinlan, and her choices have turned her into a much softer and stronger version of herself. This has now become her trial by allowing her to showcase just how much she has changed, and how much her own worldview has flipped.

This is an incredible example for Omega, but similar to how she took Hunter’s trial for him in Replacement, Ventress has now filled what was supposed to be hers. This begs the question, what is Omega actually holding back on? Is she really Force sensitive? Or is just her compassion and tenderness toward everyone around her overtaking her in unhealthy ways? She has always had a tendency to put herself in harms way in an attempt to make up for the complications her presence brings her brothers.

Omega will have to face these implied monsters at some point. I’m not actually certain that she will end up facing a creature like everyone else has—there’s the possibility that because she naturally has more affinity with creatures and beings that look monstrous but really aren’t, she may end up facing her inner demons in another manner. Will it be a person instead? Or a choice? Even, might I say, an identity crisis? It remains to be seen, but the fact that she must face it in order to overcome and integrate it is unquestionable.

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accio-sriracha · 5 months

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Wolfstar and Markers.

~~~♤~~~

Sirius likes to draw on his friends.

It's just something he does when he's bored in class.

He writes Property of Sirius on each of them. Sometimes abreviating it to P.O.S. for the double meaning.

He draws little cupcakes and pieces of cheese on Peter's hand.

He loves to draw golden snitches and broomsitcks across James' thigh during the summer, charming them to fly around.

But, rather ironically, it was Remus who usually sat next to him.

It was an exceptionally boring day in history of magic class, they were all waiting for the lesson to end as Professor Binns droned on about the Great Goblin War.

Sirius pulled the marker out of his bag, grabbing Remus' arm without waiting for permission.

Despite pretending to be annoyed each time, Remus stayed carefully still.

A little too still.

He literally spent a good portion of the time Sirius was drawing on him not breathing.

It was secretly his favorite part of the day.

He loved the feeling of Sirius' fingers skating across his skin.

He loved watching his concentrated expression from the corner of his eyes.

He loved the way Sirius took his time, careful not to mess it up.

How Sirius always told him he wasn't allowed to wash it off.

He never did, keeping it until the end of the day.

He pretended to hate it but each time he felt himself falling a little deeper in love with his best friend.

Sirius moved on from drawing moons and stars to drawing hearts at some point during their fifth year.

It was literally all he would ever draw on Remus now.

He kept the same drawings on the others, quidditch themed for Prongs and various snacks for Wormy.

But always hearts on Remus.

Remus couldn't figure out why, but the tiny detail made his own heart flutter faster every time.

He wondered what caused the switch, wondered if it was as significant as he was making it out to be in his head.

One day, while Sirius was doodling on Remus' hand, James asked him,

"Why the hearts, mate?"

It was pure bored curiosity, there wasn't any real interest in his eyes when he said it.

But Sirius looked up, and his answer made Remus' entire brain malfunction.

"I'm waiting for Remus to ask me to be his boyfriend. This is about as obvious as I can get before I decide to ask him myself."

And then he just-

Went back to his doodling.

As if nothing even happened.

As if that wasn't the single most earthshattering thing Remus had ever heard in his life.

As if that wasn't something Remus had been dreaming of doing for years.

Remus could feel the shock on his face.

He could tell he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding any of the emotions swirling through him.

Did Sirius know then? This whole time had he secretly known how much Remus enjoyed their little moments together?

"Moons?" Sirius whispered.

Remus hadn't realised how long it had been since they stopped talking.

Sirius was staring at him, a small flicker of uncertainty passed over him, like he was realising there was a possibility he was wrong,

"You okay?" He asked.

"Can you hand me that marker?" Remus replied instead.

Sirius' eyes went wide for a fraction of a second before he nodded, passing it to Remus.

Remus reached out for Sirius' hand, Sirius gave it to him without hesitation.

He drew a single shaky heart, adrenaline pumping through him.

"Yes." He whispered, "I do want to be your boyfriend."

And that was it.

They've been together ever since.

Sirius loves to tell people the story of how they fell in love.

He always pays specific attention to the part where Remus sat shocked into stillness for fifteen minutes before Sirius finally asked if he was okay.

Remus proposed around Christmas, they were gathered at the Potter's home, watching baby Harry stumble around as he tried to walk.

Sirius and Remus were sitting on the sofa, Peter sat on the ground, holding his arms out for Harry, and Lily and James stood by the kitchen, watching them all with a smile.

Remus had told the others his plan already and they thought it was amazing.

"Hey Pads?" He whispered, kissing the top of his head.

Sirius hummed and leaned in closer to him.

"Can you go grab me a marker? I think I saw one on the counter earlier."

Sirius paused and leaned away, giving him a curious look, "A marker?" He repeated. Remus nodded,

"Yeah, I think it was in the kitchen."

Sirius shrugged and stood up, walking over to the counter to find the black sharpie Remus had placed there earlier.

He sat back down, passing it over, "What's this for?"

"Give me your hand." Remus whispered.

The others went silent, watching them quietly.

Remus could feel adrenaline shooting through him, just like the last time he'd done this.

He carefully drew a heart on Sirius' hand, big enough to reach from one side to the other.

Sirius smiled, "I didn't think you still remembered. It's been years since I've talked about that."

Remus nodded quietly, lifting his hand up so Sirius couldn't see what he was writing.

Sirius watched him, impatiently waiting until Remus let him see.

Inside the heart was now four words, written in Remus' neat cursive,

"Will you marry me?"

Sirius looked up so suddenly it caught Remus by surprise.

He threw his arms around him, burying his face into his shoulder,

"Yes." He breathed, "Of course I want to marry you, Moons."

They kissed, teary eyed and holding each other close.

The others ran to them immediatley, pulling them into hugs and shouting congratulations.

Sirius told that story for an even longer amount of time.

If you look carefully enough, you'll still find a black marker in every room of their home.

Every note they leave for each other are always signed by these, and always with a small heart at the bottom in place of a signature.

Sirius still draws little hearts on him when he's bored sometimes.

And it's still Remus' favorite part of his day.

~~~♤~~~

#harry potter #marauders #marauders era #wolfstar #wolfstar headcanon #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius black #sirius x remus #sirius loves remus #remus loves sirius #wolfstar textpost #wolfstar fluff #theyre so cute #ill never shut up #i love them

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emo-ostrich · 5 months

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1: why doesn’t anyone talk about how heartbreaking this scene is

2: why doesn’t anyone talk about this episode?!?!

it’s actually very well written and serves as a set up for the much darker twist the show is taking

in this episode we learn:

-pidge would sacrifice a good amount of the universe to save her father. they’re the most logical and analytical on the team, yet all that goes out the window when her family gets involved. there’s an argument in the beginning of the episode that is very reminiscent of when pidge was going to leave voltron in season 1 and keith yells at them.

-honerva remembers that lotor is her son. this is a HUGE set up for season 8. she begins the phase 4 of the kuron project which leads to keith returning and becoming the black paladin. but she does all of this because she knows zarkon will kill lotor. she’s ok with lotor killing zarkon bc zarkon is merely a husk of the man he used to be. that realization definitely leads her down the path of “how can i restore my family” (cut to end of season 8).

-on the topic of project kuron, we see the effects of it with shiro lashing out and not being… very shiro like… but he gives lotor HIS BAYARD in the hostage exchange without telling the rest of the team. honerva calls for the beginning of phase 4, and we can see that phase 3 was the shiro that been with the team since he returned in season 3. he’s been living this jekyll and hyde type life with half kuron controlled by honerva and half real shiro.

-we see lance step up and give orders to the team. lance is the red paladin at this point in the series making him the right hand of voltron and this is one of the first times we see him step into that leadership position. watching him grow into that leadership position and learn to feel valued makes the end of season 8 hurt even worse. plus when shiro realizes they need backup he says “lance we could use a little help.” he already acknowledges lance as his right hand man even if lance doesn’t realize it yet. that’s the shiro part talking. lance gives an order and the team says “copy that” which is how lance normally responds to orders. it’s a very clear role reversal that i think is lovely in lance’s character arc (if only dreamworks actually finished his arc smh)

-lotor killing zarkon is proof he really did want peace. he wants nothing to do with his father, doesn’t want zarkon to be his father, and has no hesitation in killing him. lotor and voltron are fighting for the same thing, but simply have different methods. when they fight lotor, he seems hesitant to fire until allura says he’s like zarkon. that’s what throws him over the edge.

lotor becoming emperor of the galra after zarkon’s death shows that having a galra ally on the throne could be the key to peace (hello keith after season 8) so think about the set back in the war efforts when voltron kills the emperor, a former ally, and then disappears. maybe this is why the galra attacked earth? in the beginning on the series, they’re looking at a star map showing that the galra’s progress in conquering worlds is getting closer to reaching earth but hasn’t quite gotten there yet. so either and conquering has sped up and an insane rate, or earth was specifically targeted by the galra while voltron was gone.

-when zarkon is about to kill lotor, the team saves him. the first lion we see fire is allura implying that j was allura that saved lotor a life. that’s kinda big in her development or maybe she was just firing at zarkon who knows

ok sorry that’s all thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

(this is all about season 5 episode 2: blood duel)

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #lotor #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #sam holt #shiro #kuron project

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pagemasters · 24 days

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Fantasies He…

BABY’S FIRST FIC!!!

Author’s notes: So after reading so many for years I thought maybe it’s my turn to take a crack at it. There’s I think 3 parts to this, with the first one having basically no smut and mostly platonic fluff between Az and Feyre, but part 3? Can’t say the same thing for the middle Archeron sister lmao

I swear this started out to be one part but the story told me otherwise, part 2 is fully drafted I’m just revising and editing

I’m a very visual person, so enjoy the floor plan of the nursery and a rough sketch of what I think her mural would be and the star! I am a painter if it wasn’t obvious so the whole portion on starfall stars is actually based on how Bob Ross paints his northern lights, just with modifications BUT I haven’t tried it myself for this specific purpose. Also the colour of Feyre and Rhys’s stars are the colours of the first ones that hit them during Starfall btw! I love the platonic relationships between the inner circle and we don’t get enough of it

If you enjoyed it I would love u forever if you let me know!! :)

Ps. Omg dialogue is so difficult to make realistic but also in character, none of that “hey big brother” etc. shit you see in tv shows where you’re like who tf says that to their sibling ?? Ps.ps. I haven’t taken an English writing class for 5 years so if punctuation was wrong let’s pretend it wasn’t LMAO

I CANT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO AO3 LINK BUT IT’S ON THERE WITH THE SAME USERNAME LOL SORRY

Summary:

Azriel spends the day with Feyre, only to get caught in the rain on the way home. Good thing the townhouse is empty. Or is it…

CHAPTER ONE: DAYDREAMING

The rain finally decided to make its appearance as Azriel stepped out of the River house. Taking a deep breath, he let the soothing scent wash over him as he relaxed his wings.

The meeting with Rhys was short, just a weekly update on the goings around the other courts and allies, nothing that required the full inner circle to make an appearance. Something he knew after centuries of this work should be a good thing, but it doesn’t stop the pang in his chest at the missed opportunity of seeing her.

Not that he didn’t try to catch a glimpse of her. He did take a walk through the beautiful home his brother had built for his mate after seeing him, the smell of cedar and masonry long since faded from the construction days; replaced with flowers and candles and the dinner his shadows whispered Nuala and Cerridwen were working on. The scent of paint lingered though, and he discovered the reason why as he got to the residential wing. His High Lady wasn’t in her studio, but he found her nonetheless with a brush in her tattooed hand.

“I think you missed a spot.” Az said from the doorway, trying to repress his smile at her startled reaction. Even though Feyre and Rhys opted for doorways fashioned with wings in mind, he kept his drawn in tight, not wanting to risk smearing her paint as he stepped inside.

“Rhys won’t let me use the step ladder without him holding it. And me. And the bump.” Feyre twisted to look up from her spot on the floor and smiled in greeting before lowering the brush to pat her stomach in emphasis. She gave her mate’s antics an affectionate eye roll and shake of her head before releasing a heavy sigh, glancing back at her work.

“If I remember correctly,” Az teased, “you are prone to falling quite spectacularly.”

She let out an indignat squawk so loud he had to bite his lips to prevent laughing, her body spinning so fast to face him fully that paint ended up splattering from her brush to the white drop cloth.

Their flying lessons had ceased for the most part since the war, so watching her fly into a tree or eat rocks wasn’t as common an occurrence— but that’s not to say that still doesn’t happen. Knowledge he happens to be privy to not just as her flight teacher, but as the spymaster, something she’s very aware of if the narrowing of her eyes and mouth hanging open are any indication.

It’s hard not to notice the similarities between the sisters, when even with your eyes closed the cadence of their speech was also similar. But it was never so apparent between youngest and oldest Archeron as when Feyre’s eyes pinned him in place, the expression of mock outrage was so much like Nesta’s it was almost comical.

“Ruuuude,” she said, drawing the word out in a whine with pouted lips, no doubt remembering the amount of face plants he’d witnessed when she first began to fly. “I see how you treat your High Lady, Shadowsinger. Just wait, it’s not too late for me to paint a little something in your bedroom.”

“And here I thought pouting and grumbling was beneath royalty, at least you can say you’re a tree hugger.”

She gave him a gesture that was certainly beneath royalty, and he didn’t hold back his chuckle this time.

“What gave you that idea, have you even met Rhys?”

“Oh trust me, you should’ve seen him when we were kids.” He said, grabbing her hands to help her stand. “He discovered in a book that while bat wings look identical to ours, the anatomy of their wing is labeled similar to that of the hand. So for them, their talons are their thumbs. After that, he took it upon himself to hang upside down in silent protest whenever he was mad, but didn’t want his mother to wash his mouth out with soap for swearing.”

“He did not.”

“Mhmm, until his faced turned purple.”

“And where were you and Cass for all this?” Feyre said through her giggling, a wide grin of unrestrained joy plastered on her face.

“He couldn’t have done it alone, a thumbs down by yourself would look stupid.”

“Ah yes, because the three of you hanging upside down like overgrown bats isn’t ridiculous.” She cackled, “How long until he gave it up?”

“A few weeks. After Cassian passed out in the middle of camp and we all got broken capillaries on our faces. Still, a better alternative than the awful tasting soap in Illyria.”

“What, as opposed to other tasting soap?” He just shrugged, smiling.

Rhys’s mom’s reaction to warriors dragging them across the rocky ground home was as lively in his memory as she was when she berated them when her son fessed up. She was less thrilled to hear the real reason than Devlon was having passed out children strewn about the place, but she never did call them out on the lie they fed to Devlon about it being a dare when he came banging on their door. That night though when they were more lucid, she brought them on foot to one of the mountains surrounding their outpost and stood them at the opening of a cave. He still remembers the eyes he felt on them, the warning bells ringing from his shadows as she gestures her hands out and said, “If you want to act like bats, you can join them; or you can toughen up, learn how and when to pick battles and what hills are worth to dying on. Because there will be more people who will piss you off, but this is not an option when you’re leading armies. So,” her hazel eyes meeting each of theirs, “What will it be? Do you want to stay here or take the soap and fly right on home.” Needless to say they bolted home with the taste of pine tar suds coating their mouths like a film no amount of water could rid them of the taste. He could still feel the eyes of whatever was in that cave the entire way home, but thank the cauldron he could fly at that point. His heart ached at the memory of the female, the one he knew picked a low cave for him to make her point, just in case. The one his shadows caught a few times after that upside down on the couch after a rough day when she thought she was alone.

As Feyre’s amusement continued with eyes glazed over—no doubt having a silent conversation with Rhys—Az cleared his throat, his shadows pulling back as he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So how’s the nursery coming along?”

“It’s going great,” she replied after a moment, her laughter subsiding as she surveyed the mural. “I know it’s not geographically correct, and that Starfall and the time when our courts insignia’s stars show don’t overlap, but I couldn’t not include them. I want him and any possible future child to see the night court as I did when I first fell in love with it and their dad.”

Indeed, while he knew Rhys was already in love with her, he got to watch Feyre love him back as much as he deserved in real time the longer she was here. And the way she captured the land they all loved so much here was… breathtaking.

On the wall that held the doorway he just stepped through lay the mountain with the moonstone palace atop it. The first place she saw here. They both knew where the doors to Hewn city rest below, but it was covered by the landscape. As if there were no room for nightmares in this room, even if it was a court this babe may one day rule.

“I have no idea how you made that mountain so realistic,” he said to her in awe, pointing to the painting adjacent to the wall they just looked at.

“The crib is going to go right below it when the rooms done. I want it to watch over him.” She replied almost reverently as she looked up.

The mountain was the tallest of the three she painted, and it looked just as it had on his trek up there with his brothers during the rite. Physically it was practically stone for stone, those three stars lines up overhead perfectly, but the energy differed. Instead of the cold and foreboding thing he remembered on the way up, it seemed almost… euphoric? As if the wild joy and love Rhysand, Cassian and he felt as they made their way to the top and won seeped its way onto the painting. Like the unyielding strength from that mountain and what it brought out of them would guide and protect him, just like it did for the three winged dots surrounding the monolith at the tip. How that was even possible was beyond him.

He could barely tear his gaze away, but snickered as he saw the tiny but recognizable building at the base of it to the right. “The cabin, huh?”

“Of course, gotta prep him for one day kicking all of your asses during your snowball fight.” She added, blushing. “I put few snowballs flying just for good luck.”

Though he knew the other reason the cabin was significant to Feyre and Rhys, the thought of his future nephew joining their game warmed him. But It did make trying not to focus on other non-winged and winged babies that could one day join in the snowball fight impossible. Children have always been an abstract idea, a figment he knew existed but besides Rhys’s sister, he wasn’t around. And after what happened to her… He thought for a long time he would never have one of his own, but that sentiment start to change in recent years. He could avoid it most days though, but being surrounded by the baby stuff made the hypothetical harder to ignore. The thoughts on if he’d have his own little ones propped on his hip and curled into his chest with their chubby cheeks and inquisitive eyes. If they would have his hazel or her golden brown ones, or something different if they adopted. Would their little hands or clothes or hair get caught in the scales of his armour just like hers did when he took her on her first flight to the town house from the House of Wind, when he held her for the first time. Would Elain… Az paused, stopping that train of thought before it just twisted the knife even further, seeing more things he can’t have.

His shadows began to circle him, and if Feyre noticed she politely didn’t comment on it before pointing out what she was working on when he interrupted her.

To the right of the cabin and right were she was sat Velaris, and it really did look like a city of starlight with how she painted the glowing nightscape. He could make out the four markets that were the heart of the city, with extra emphasis on where the town house sat along with the new residence they were currently in. Bisecting through it all, the Sidra River looked so realistic he could probably skip a rock across its surface. It flowed like a living thing, reflecting the lights from the buildings on its edge and even the stars above. Two of which weren’t normal stars.

Above the city proper and even the flat topped mountain that held the House of Wind was the beginnings of starfall.

“How-“Azriel could barely get out, “how is this even possible?”

“Perks of now being immortal; plenty of time to practice. And having a husband with wings who takes you to get aerial views.” She simply said gesturing to their city, as if she didn’t create magic with swipes of colours.

“The green one is mine, and the light blue one is Rhys’s. I’m planning to get everyone to add their own star to the wall.” Now looking him, she smirked. “Which means you came at a perfect time, Shadowsinger. Your turn.”

He gave her an unbelieving expression, shadows instantly vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “if I trust Cassian with a paintbrush, you’ll be fine. He’s coming by in a few days when he gets a free moment, Nesta and her two friends are keeping him busy with training.” Nesta is keeping him busy with more than just that, it’s a wonder he even has energy to train them.

But looking at Rhysand’s mate, Azriel saw her glow in a way different from her powers. Feyre radiated joy as her hand cradled her stomach despite barely showing, not caring about paint getting on her already splattered clothes. For his brother, for the friend beside him and his nephew in her womb, he removed his jacket and let out a resounding sigh in defeat. “What do you need me to do?”

So Feyre excitedly brought him over to her pile of paint tubes on the drop cloth. She grabbed the white and as he selected the colour phthalo blue she went off to prep the clean, dry brushes and a fresh palette for him.

“So pick the area of the sky you want your star to be, I’d like to keep the inner circle’s additions mostly above Velaris, but I’ll add tiny ones fading out once everyone is done. Amren and Mor are away, Cass is busy and who knows if or when Nesta would want to contribute. That means besides Rhys and I, you have the pick of the litter.”

“What about Elain?” He asked, trying to keep his voice and face as neutral as possible when she handed him a 3 inch brush already dipped in his blue.

“I’ll drag her in here after dinner when she gets in from the garden. The colour of the sky is already dry which is the important part, so there’s no time constraint on when everyone adds theirs besides my due date.” She gave him a knowing smile which he dutifully ignored, along with the disappointment in his chest as she confirmed Elain wasn’t in. “Now I want you to cover a large area of where you generally want the shape of the star to go, it doesn’t have to be perfect but cover much more than you think you’d need to.”

He hesitates, “won’t this cover up your sky? It’s a dark colour.”

“Just trust me.”

He followed her instructions, cringing as his brush made contact with her beautiful wall and went over the faint background stars she had already done, but relaxed when he saw they were still partially visible.

Az looked back at her, seeing his shadows lazily inspecting them, as if they wanted a part in the activity their master is occupied with. Feyre playfully eyed the curious one that grazed her hand as she took his current brush from his scarred hand to switch it. “Now with this fan brush, I want you to coat it in the white paint. And as you do so, get a feel for how the bristles bend and move.”

Doing as High Lady said, he got her guidance once he brought the loaded brush to the wall, being sure to dab, not swipe the white in a near full coverage circle followed by a line over the shade of blue he had no idea how to pronounce.

“So this is where the magic begins,” she stated when he finished and passed a third brush over, a flat paddle one identical to the first and this time a cloth. “You see that perfectly clean teardrop you made? You’re gonna ruin it.”

At the alarmed look he gave her, she just cackled. “I knew you’d make that face, Rhys did the exact same. I want you to very lightly swipe the brush starting at the largest end of the teardrop and out towards the tail of the star. That’s the only motion you’ll be doing. And after each swipe you can gently wipe off the brush before starting again. You can also practice the strokes around the mountain until you feel ready like Rhys did, the sky there is also dry.”

With a deep breath, he took a step away and tried it until he felt like he got the technique she wanted down. This was for his family, he reminded himself, he will not let his nephew down. And despite getting her nod of approval, he still felt like he was going in blind as he did what she said and his jaw dropped.

Well shit. Now he understood why she wanted him to put down the colour he chose first.

“The blue is actually transparent; so while it looks dark in the tube, it blends out much lighter. Especially with white under or overtop. You’re doing wet-on-wet blending.” What was once just a bright blob over blue so dark you couldn’t see it on her perfect walls, he could now see how the white faded. How the light and the dark mixed until they became one. So Az wiped the excess off his brush, and continued on and on until it looked similar enough to what she and Rhys created. They fell into a rhythm, Feyre handing him back the fan brush to brighten or a new one with bristles so impossibly soft as they worked as a team. She barely had to tell him what to do now, so with next to no pressure he feathered it out vertical rather than the almost horizontal strokes from before, until only a streak of blue light remained. They could’ve been at this for minutes or hours, he had no idea. He didn’t even question her instruction to use a densely bristled tool he could’ve sworn was a toothbrush to flick on watered down white paint for the star trail.

“This is incredible, Feyre.” He stated, stepping back at last.

“That wasn’t me, that was all you my friend.” She grinned at him. “Once everyone’s is dry, I’m adding a sheer shimmery paint to make them pop, but even without it you did a beautiful job.”

He felt heat rise to his face, and inclined his head in thanks without removing his eyes from the wall.

“You certainly have an eye for this, Az. Care to quit and become a painter? I could use an assistant.”

A chill went through him, and he started to turn in her direction before the window caught his attention. Dusk must have fallen along with the rain who knows how long ago. About to rub his temples, Feyre squeaked out a warning before he remembered the task at hand and looked down at himself. The plain black long sleeve shirt covered in splatters didn’t matter, he goes through them like water for work but the paint coating his skin made his stomach drop the same way her jest did. Much different than the red he was used to seeing there, all the blood he still couldn’t wash away.

He can paint a picture with his knife, but nothing like Feyre’s ability of creation. Each slash he makes as delicate and precise a dance as any Nesta favours, but instead it’s to a symphony of screams. And unlike Elain… the only soil he sees is grave dirt. If the bodies make it that far.

His work is never meant to been seen by others, it’s means to and end, a way to protect his family and his court. Unlike their work, where it would be a crime to hide it from the world.

“Tempting offer, Cursebreaker,” Az murmured, swapping the dirty cloth for a damp one his shadows brought him. Paying close attention to his siphons and not his scars, he still didn’t feel clean enough no matter how hard he wiped the paint from his skin. “Sadly, I don’t think your mate would be too thrilled to have to hire someone else to feed the creatures in Hewn City.”

She snorted, making a lighthearted comment about at least no one had to feed Byraxis, for now… The forced tease in her voice didn’t fool him as she realized she must’ve hit a nerve, but he appreciated her effort anyway.

“I do have to head out, but I’ll pop by soon to see the progress when I drop off paperwork.” He told her, his lips pressed to the top of her head and shockingly made contact with her hair in a brief farewell. Rhys must’ve lessened the shield knowing Az was with her, but not by much considering both her and the babe’s scent was still concealed.

Feyre did invited him to stay for dinner which he politely declined. It wouldn’t be served for an hour, but he needed space and to fly to clear his head—still feeling like if he looked down he’d be dripping blood that didn’t belong to him as he made his was out. He did try not to rush out as he walk through the maze of supplies strewn about the covered floor, keeping his wings high even as his shadows tugged at him, but he had a feeling she knew his reason for leaving. Well, at least the other reason.

Lightning cracks through the sky, snapping Azriel out of his memories. Damn, He must be more tired than he thought. If breaking one of the cardinal rules of flying—also known as “PAY ATTENTION JACKASS!” by his brothers when they taught him—wasn’t enough, he’s not even going to the right place. Despite not living there for years, he’d been heading towards the town house and not the House of Wind.

The storm just seems to be picking up, but at least with the downpour he no longer felt the warm spray of blood coating him rather than the paint, he just felt nothing at all. Well, nothing besides wanting to get the fuck home. Az really didn’t have the energy to fly up a mountain or winnowing through this even if it wouldn’t be his first time. But considering how often lightning hits the rocks rather than the surrounding city, crashing at the town house is easiest. It’s for the best, with it sitting empty now. At least he’d be alone.

Az pauses mid-flight though, when he notices the lights already on inside. And the smoke rising from the chimney only to dissipate in the rain.

What the hell? Who would be dumb enough to break into their high lord and inner circle’s home? It’s not like it’s broadcasted who owns the house but it’s pretty common knowledge after this long.

At least storms can be a great tool for his field of work, it’s almost a blessing in disguise he plans to use to its full advantage. Landing atop the roof as gently as possible, he ensures his wing beat blends in with the rain like it has hundreds of times before. Using his siphons to unlock the door and slipping inside, the creak of the hinge merely just a gust of wind as he shuts it behind him.

That’s when the smell of jasmine and honey hits him so strongly he has to bite back his moan. But it seems like he was the only one who did.

Because mixed within that scent ingrained in his brain, is Elain’s arousal.

And she’s…

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

#elriel #sarah j maas #Baby’s first fic #Fluff #platonic love #bob Ross who?#There will be smut I promise #Az has baby fever?#elain archeron #feyre archeron #azriel

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nihilnovisubsole · 1 month

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phew! finally a weekend where i can set aside enough time to type up The Promised Endwalker Stream-of-Consciousness Post. i finished the base story... a month ago? but work has been busy, and i think tumblr benefits from me being quiet sometimes. anyway, what a ride. when you've been building up to the end of your arc for a decade, you want to hit it like an earthquake, and that's exactly what they did.

i think people love endwalker because it fires on all cylinders. it returns - in both story and vision - to the eorzea we love, and the dev team gets to show off everything they've learned. the dungeons and boss fights are dynamic and imaginative and colorful and bring the game's epic sense of scope to bear. the story callbacks are juicy. the music is orchestral again. we're back home, and we're saving the galaxy. what's better than this?

i love that we go to garlemald. i don't - i mean, you know, i don't like garlemald. i shouldn't have to qualify that. but it's hugely narratively satisfying to see the face of the enemy we've been fighting since the first few hours of ARR. you don't think about them when you're beating them up in castrum centri or ala mhigo. they're star wars bad guys. then you meet them on their own turf. you observe firsthand how they starve and cannibalize their own people to feed their obsession with state power and military strength. the wintry environment makes it seem all the more barren and desperate. my favorite part by far. i wish we'd spent more time there.

actually, on that note:

there is an argument that endwalker should've been two expacs. i've heard similar about stormblood - ala mhigo should've been the whole thing, and doma should've been either patch content or an expac of its own. the prevailing theory is that, after ARR, the devs are afraid of letting arcs run long. i can't speak to that, but i wouldn't have minded, that's for sure!

i won't pretend not to be biased. i've noted in many xiv posts that it hurries through its political plots to get to the magic stuff. i felt more conscious of it in heavensward and especially in stormblood. i made peace with it in endwalker. with dessert this good, who am i to complain? i can do small character drama on my own time. for now, the game wants royce to be a big damn shonen hero, and that can be fun, too.

speaking of characters, urianger and estinien have grown on me. this is the arc where, for me at least, the scions have congealed. they're all good, but with any large cast and custom player character, you tend to form the meatiest bonds with a few specific ones. i think royce appreciates urianger's cooler, more mature head. they're both so formal. he realizes she's someone he can confide in. i think she sees estinien as a gifted, but hotheaded whelp, which i find very funny. patience, child. stop sulking. do your breathing drills.

i love thancred's MGS sequence and in from the cold too. they're stressful, but i love that the team tried, you know what i mean? the fact that you can fight enemies in a pinch makes those duties way more bearable than some other games that experiment with stealth.

in from the cold as a whole, honestly. If You Know, You Know

all right, i can't avoid referencing spoilers anymore, sorry. there's a sense of classical tragedy to the whole elpis sequence. it's like watching macbeth or hamlet. you know how it's going to end, and you know you're powerless to stop it, but if they'd just made that different choice! but we had to leave eden. the warrior of light had to end up where they are to finish what elpis started. i don't do fate/destiny plots, but this? i'll take it.

i also knew what would happen going into ultima thule and still came away from it moved. it's strong writing. that's all there is to it. sure, the visuals are haunting, but the dialogue has to sell a gauntlet of difficult character moments, and it pulls it off. on the design side, there's some interesting intentional friction that forces you to linger in the zone and sit with its sense of despair. that part where you have to search the empty park for signs of life? oof

with the majority of the MSQ under my belt, i started sniffing around for what else there is to do ingame. i tried ninja. did terribly. i tried sage. did terribly too, but at least that gave me access to the healer role quests, which, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). the nier raids are gorgeous. i even did the controversial werlyt quests, and terncliff is so cute. i kind of wish we could have another story there!

what's next? i dunno! right now i'm burning through the hildibrand quests before i continue on with endwalker's patch story. the field operation stuff seems interesting to do after the MSQ, in a "hey, you saved the world, but we have more missions for you" way. i've also contracted Triple Triad Collector Disease, so that'll keep me busy for a long time.

all right. one last thing. Real Gamer Moments: i was in a mount-farming party recently, and i said that i sort of collected mounts, but only used the ishgardian chocobo. it's a roleplay thing - it's the chocobo royce took when she ran away from ishgard. one of the party members said "haurchefant would be proud of you." AUGH

#ffxiv #long post

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fandom-shitposter · 4 months

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Why do we have to slog through 50 layers of heavily applied references in every current Star Wars show?

Because it's a smokescreen trying to make us dismiss the ones which point out the actual underlying story. Which is the exact same story we already know only from a slightly different angle and using clones and technology instead of Jedi since, you know, that's not really an option anymore

The story of a child living on a backwater planet who lives solely with their mother, a child who has an amazing talent for machinery and builds their own droid(s), who gets to run off with a bunch of men (their new 'family') for a far more exciting life which ultimately leads to devastation after they made some really bad life choices because they don't want to accept death as a factor of life

And yeah, I do realise how basically stripped down that description is

First we meet the small child, then we meet them again when they're older and getting all trained up (even if it is done as more of a Dooku/Ventress thing second time around)

And then they hit their final stage where they never ever take their helmet off until the very end of things, and neither of them are using their own speaking voice

Cue the supposed 'shock' ending and a bunch of Disney execs patting themselves on the back for no one seeing it coming

Each OG role has been divided up between 2-3 current characters so Omega can help Mommy out by building a cyborg to mimic Anakin building C3PO but she hasn't had the opportunity or ability to do the equivalent of killing the Jedi in the temple, that part was farmed out to someone else regardless of whether they stated it on that specific show yet. It already happened and we saw it previously

Tech can stand in for Obi-Wan disliking her flying style, teaching her the skills she'll need to survive and dealing with her on an emotional level (with the assistance of the rest of the 'family' like the Jedi would have supported Anakin), but the big Anakin vs Obi-Wan fight at the end of season 1 was acted out by Hunter and Crosshair instead and since Echo already lost the appropriate number of limbs which that fight claimed before becoming a cyborg there was no need to repeat it

Unfortunately they've spent so much time on cramming in the surface level references into all of these shows, bending existing characters into shapes that don't fit them (*cough* Ahsoka show *cough*), obscuring the details and dropping any inconvenient parts of former canon they don't like that it's all become a little bit overblown and boring.

The makers of Star Wars just can't get past the Anakin Skywalker story no matter how big the SWU is or how many far more interesting tales there are to tell in it. How many promising looking shows have been cancelled or lost to development hell to focus on this instead?

Just last year Dave Filoni claimed that Anakin was the best Jedi ever (or something like that) and we all laughed at him for it. So why did he claim it in the first place? Who was he trying to convince? Are we just supposed to watch these shows and decide that Disney are doing it better than Lucas ever could? Just what is the point here?

Apart from money, obviously

#the bad batch #ahsoka show #the mandalorian #anakin skywalker #tbb omega #star wars #ambitious but ultimately bloated and a little bit dull #she's playing palpatine as well #but due to the divided role thing she isn't the only one #all the key players are represented though #ventress grievous mace windu hondo ohnaka etc

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 months

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tuesday again 1/23/2024

listen i got my last job through one of youse on here so weirder things have happened: i got fired bc the nonprofit wasn’t doing so hot. let me know if you have a weird data/database or market/tech research job. i promise my worksona is so so so nice and pleasant to work with. remote only, looking more in the $75k range but can be a bit flexible if it’s a cool enough job, i am in the central time zone of the USA and will not need sponsorship anywhere but DO need the cadillac of healthcare and dental plans. portfolio, publication list, and linkedin with my government name available on request!

listening

both of these are from my sister! this is another FULL ALBUM rec (good lord). The Offline’s album La couleur de la mer is a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist, inspired by his long walks in the fog on the French Atlantic coast. a little spacey, a little soul, very sixties/seventies neonoir. i am quite fond of the very first track, Thème de la couleur de la mer.

she’s also sent me a bunch of tiktoks with Perfect (Exceeder) by Mason and Princess Superstar. hell of a goddamn music video for this thing. mid-aughts clubbing music at its finest. stopped me from dissolving into a puddle of emotions on the way to and from the vet today bc it’s too goddamn bouncy to be sad around

youtube

reading

im reading a trilogy i want to discuss as a whole whenever the third one comes through as a library hold, and a book by a friend. i do not typically talk about books or fics by friends here bc none of them have ever asked for critique, and i dont want to play favorites or inadvertently miss someone’s work. so here’s a story about porn on Wikimedia, which is the kind of database drama and technical arguments that fascinate me.

given the number of articles from 404 Media i shout about here and elsewhere i really should sign up for their $5/mo subscription tier when i have a steady income again

watching

somehow missed Star Wars Visions 2, their second anthology of weird little shorts. i was not super impressed by the overall storytelling this time around, but it was fun to see them reach out to more global studios and see a wider range of styles. there’s some goddamn incredible stop motion in here.

youtube

i particularly enjoyed Journey to the Dark Head, which not only has some interesting fringe Force believers and beliefs but has one of the sickest anime bullshit lightsaber fights in this season. this one is by Studio Mir, most known for the Legend of Korra.

youtube

also really liked The Spy Dancer by Studio La Cachette, partly bc it’s incredibly beautiful and i like when Star Wars leans into art nouveau, and partly bc it felt the most like a complete short story. emotional arc and everything! strong beginning middle and end! this IS a really low bar, but a lot of the shorts this season did not have a coherent little story to tell or a strong emotional arc, or fumbled their arc partway through, and were just kind of vibes and animation showcases? nothing necessarily wrong with that, also how i felt about most of the last collection. my expectations are underground for any Star Wars media.

playing

as is tradition i dithered about this section the most. this is more of a What’s Next? planning ramble.

the laptop gets shipped back to my old job today so i will no longer have a working modern computer. i have to dig the switch out and see what’s up. maybe start a whole new run in breath of the wild or whatever the last pokemon game was. i think i also have the sword boyfriend game everyone was up in arms about two years ago? and i think i am somehow part of a switch family plan that lets me have some older games?

this section may look very different in the next ??? amount of time until i get a company laptop again. or finally replace the motherboard on my personal desktop but that sat in my car for several weeks during the heat wave this summer while i did not have an apartment and i am really REALLY afraid to open that box.

oh the free epic game this week is a platformer, a genre i have historically not cared about. godspeed to those of you who do

making

soup bc aldi had alphabet pasta and that jolted me out of myself for long enough i was briefly convinced making alphabet pasta soup would fix me. so i found this recipe while in aldi. despite this not being a very good soup or a very good recipe, i feel a little triumphant bc i now know enough to brown the tomato paste before putting it in the soup. unfortunately i overcooked the pasta. there’s kind of a lot of texture happening here, and i wish i had chopped things finer, but i will probably steal my best friend’s blender tomorrow and blitz some of it down.

it’s edible. im going to eat it all. it will not be going in the rotation

#this one has another album rec and a recipe #what am i becoming #this is also a little bit. Hm. feels weird to write bc i am a little drunk and very out of it #tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Youtube

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taduki · 11 months

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Hey, Taduki, I recently started reading your Arcana headcanons. They’re great! I have a headcanon request if you’re interested. M6 with an MC who has a habit of turning into cats and other animals, eventually leading to heightened senses in their human form too.

Now I see why arcana asks pages are so stressed out 😭 I’m worried about disappointin’ y’all. It’s ok tho this looks fun. REALLY sorry it took so long… I’m writing this with specific powers in mind, comparing them to the powers Atreus has from the God of War series.

M6 w/ an MC Who Can Transform into Animals and Use Their Abilities

Asra

If you ask him about your relearning of abilities when you came back, he’ll have an entire book of the shenanigans you got up to: picking a fight with the stove salamander, “Which one’s the real Faust?”, “MC, don’t eat that !!”, the list just goes on, and for the sake of old memories, you like reliving some of those moments or maybe tying up loose ends you may have caused. (No wonder why the stove salamander was always so moody around you and your cold eggs).

It was honestly stressful, so you can imagine their relief and confidence in your abilities now. He had little to no worries about leaving you at the shop alone once you got used to them. This, of course, led to the events in the story.

This turns out to be a two sided coin though because they watched you learn and grow your instincts and it only made them want you more. You’re so gifted and special, they are so fascinated with you. Just imagine your adventures with them!

On your adventures, they ask for your help way-finding, gathering, and other useful activities, but sometimes they just like to humor you by asking of you the impossible. “MC, could you take a sniff at the stars? See where we are?”, and that smug grin plastered on his face makes you want to prove them wrong so badly, so you make it up based on the actual knowledge of your location to find your way ahead, and every. single. time. they just tease you, “That’s my lover, alright.”

You had little relations with Aisha and Salim at first, so they didn’t know of your abilities, like AT ALL. So, what does the mysterious and powerful Asra The Magician do? They propose you prank them, of course, and whatever you two did became an inside job for years to come. Aisha and Salim are interested in your powers. They’re powerful magicians too, yes, but you transform with such ease. So easily that you’ve retained the instincts of the animals you can turn into. It’s safe to say they’re reassured of you as a partner for dear Asra.

Julian

You have many opportunities to spook him while he’s working.

What’s that thing behind the ink pot? Oh, it’s you! You’re a mouse. Oh, now you’re a bird. Aww what cute little creature are you going to become now? — AHH A TIGER!!

Of course, he admires your capability to retain some of the animalistic abilities while you’re in human form. He may or may not be secretly super interested in your capabilities, but knows not to pry. He’s just proud of your independent magic.

You make the funny habit of being a part of his costumes/disguises. Now “Julio” has a pet squirrel !!

Secretly loves when you sneak your way to him unexpectedly. He loves surprises if they’re you. Follow him while he’s on an errand and when he comes home, mention something casually about it and he’ll turn around, so certain and wide-eyed like, “YOU were that cat!”, when you were actually the falcon flying overhead.

On the very rare occasion that he is called upon to aid an injured animal, he’ll mention it, but won’t expect you to help. Whether you’re actually knowledgeable about the anatomy of the animal or not, you find ways to help like cleaning or standing guard for their comfort. You might also find you can empathize with them. Tell Julian where not to touch, how he can better handle them, etc.

At the end of the day, he is forever grateful for you. He’ll give you all of his love as a reward…

Portia

Dealing with Pepi constantly interrupting her work was a real pain in her day, so if you’re willing to offer, she’ll be so relieved.

That’s not the bulk of it obviously, Portia loves new things and you’re all new things in one !!

At first, she treats it like a game. “A duck!! Ooh, what about one of those fancy birds in the garden?”, so if you decide to indulge her, she’ll be going about her business on palace grounds and suddenly get an MC wolf jumpscare from the bushes. Every day, she eyes the animals suspiciously, wondering if they’re you.

If you can interact with the animals, you could help her take care of them if you’d like. “Could you pollinate the flowers for me? Pleaseeeee?”

Oh, the delightful jokes of making her hair into a bird’s nest…

If you can get her away from her work, it’ll be easy to have fun. Go for a little shopping trip in town!! It’s a mission to find specific things for good prices, and you succeed every time. Her heart bursts with her love for you when you pick up little things that remind you of her.

Palace gossip is so funny now because she’ll hear one thing, and you’ll hear another thing somewhere else entirely, so you two just end up theorizing in the afternoons. Afternoon tea is now full of even more giggles and incredulous gasps. At this point, you’re pretty sure you’ve collected every backstory in Vesuvia.

Nadia

She’s just happy she can find more ways to provide for you. There is plenty of space in the gardens if you want to roam free or sniff flowers or just take a nice nap in the sun. If you really so wish, she’ll be happy to personally set up a room for your needs.

You surprise her everyday it seems like. Every time she thinks she’s seen it all, you defy her expectations, and it delights her (and potentially startles Chandra).

Speaking of Chandra, depending on what form you’ve taken on, you might want to give her space. She’s fully aware that’s you who just looks like an animal, but she’s very headstrong and instinctual. Even if Nadia has talked to her, she’s still a bit stubborn about it and will only interact with you if you’re in human form.

Of course, there are some exceptions to Chandra’s rule. She’ll be a little more comfortable and friendly if you’re in owl form. She may preen you. Other times, she will step in to protect you if you’re in danger.

When Nadia is in Business Mode, she’ll ask for your input on issues about animals in Vesuvia if you’re comfortable about it. She wants to find ethical solutions for every party in Vesuvia, which includes animals. How can she help the Flooded District while taking care of the fish and other underwater creatures? She honestly might not have even considered this in her plans if she didn’t meet someone with your abilities.

She does not hesitate to ask for your help outside of the palace. She is very confident in your abilities and admires you for them. You have earned high respect from various visiting parties, including the animals.

Muriel

Maybe Muriel doesn’t like humans that much, but he still loves you even if you’re another human he has to trust and talk to and — … Where did this cat come from?

Blinks a few times before letting the crazy catch up to him. “MC…?”

He doesn’t know how to feel about it at first, but then he remembers he literally lives in the forest with all the animals ever. This leads to both relief and worry. Relief because he finds it easier to get settled with you now that he can apply some of his knowledge to take care of you, but worries about letting you roam around in certain forms because how will he be able to protect you?

Inanna literally knows it’s you but still gets startled when you switch in front of her. Some forms make her worried about shoving or stepping on you, but the other ones she’s perfectly fine with. The best way to play with her is switching to a form around the same size as her that can run and/or jump fast. Some days, you just spent hanging out with her, exploring the forest together, and by the time you two come back to Muriel, he’s just happy to have you two back.

Sometimes he gets a little wistfully jealous of the animals that spend so much time with you. He didn’t imagine he could, but it’s more of like, “It’s too quiet. I miss them…”, and, “I want to spend time with them too…” He tries not to let it get to him, but if it’s really bothering at some point, he’ll tell you outright, “I want to be with you”, and proceed to become a bumbling mess of “I mean, AROUND you” and whatnots.

If you incline to spend more time with him, he’ll be so grateful, yet guilty that you’re having to hold back because of him. With enough time and patience, you two would work something out where some days you come home before dinner time and spent the rest of the day with him and leave after he feeds the chickens. Go ahead and pretend you’re one of the chickens!! Show him this can be fun too!

He so badly wants you to be happy. He loves you so.

Lucio

You have GOT to tell or demonstrate this to Lucio as soon as possible or he will try to hunt you for game. If he does try to hunt you and you transform back, he’ll be all over you with the following statements:

“Oh GOD, I’m so sorry MC! Are you okay?!” “That was really cool by the way.”

Once he’s past the awkward part, he has so many questions. How far can you jump? How high can you climb? CAN YOU FLY??? Can you become imaginary creatures?

Whether you can or can’t accomplish these feats, he also has many ideas. You two are journeymen now, and you live day to day off the spoils of your hunts and adventures. He thinks, with your abilities, you two could become much more efficient, and you ask him what he plans to do with the rewards, and he gets all flustered like he doesn’t want to take you on a nice, luxurious date.

When you explain you can use some of your abilities in your present human form, he is silently relieved he won’t have to keep checking if the animals he’s hunting are you. He’s moreso impressed, though. Whenever you tell him something like “it smells like rain”, he asks what it smells like for no particular reason. He just finds it fun to ask about and likes imagining what you’re sensing.

New friend for Mercedes and Melchior !! They’re very perceptive, and have no problems differentiating you from other animals, so when Lucio loses you in a field of bunnies, he can count on them to help out, but occasionally he’ll insist on being able to find you just so he can impress you. It never works in his favor though, and he gets a nasty bunny bite… “I didn’t even know they could bite!!”

#lucio morgasson #the arcana game #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava #the arcana muriel #asra alnazar #julian devorak #lucio montag #lucio the arcana #portia devorak #the arcana imagines #the arcana x mc #the arcana hc #portia the arcana #the arcana julian #the arcana headcanons #asra the arcana #nadia the arcana #the arcana nadia

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absolutebl · 2 years

Text

Thai Names & BL

Why SO Weird (to Westerners)

You're looking for information on the Thai chue len.

We might say "nickname" but the actual translation is "play name." And it's what an anthropologist might call a "use name." So this is the name you go by IRL, not necessarily your legal name.

First I should say that this is a lot more common than westerns realize, even in our own past. Many Roman women, for example, we know operated under what amounts to a chue len. And it was probubly quite common among the lower classes in Ancient Egypt and Greece, too. But since the poor and females are chronically understudied there isn’t a ton of data (or written records, for that matter).

The chue len has to do in part with the history of names in Thailand, and the fact that until relatively recently most people only had a given name and a chue len, and then when government regulations went into effect mandating a last names it quickly became really complicated.

You can read a great article on Thai naming conventions here. It’s fun to learn about. I highly recommend it. And I am going to assume you did read it and now talk only about the bits left out and odd.

The bit most BL watchers ask me about is answered in this statement:

“Many Thai nicknames are derived from English words. They may be English sounding names (such as ‘Anna’) or more obscure words that are chosen for their meaning, e.g. Book (symbolising intelligence), Bank (symbolising wealth).”

However, like most English words used in Thai, they aren’t pronounced the way we would pronounce them. (Hell when have you ever heard an American pronounce something like a Brit, anyway?)

One amusing example is “bur” which is Thai for “phone number.” It’s our word, but they made it... better. You can watch Dean ask for Pharm’s digits using just this one word (in the scene where he drops him off for the first time in UWMA).

What the article doesn't say about chue len is that sometimes they are chosen for fun/silly as a baby name (like fatty) and then changed by the person themselves at any point in their life.

You can opt to change your chue len whenever you want, since it's not a legal name. Also its not uncommon to have different ones with different groups (so one for friends, another for family, one for the public if you’re a celebrity, another for your lover).

Daonuea (literally starnorth AKA Polaris or the Northstar) in Star in My Mind does this, he uses two: Nuea with friends, Dao with intimates.

I hope you can see how in a language where you use your OWN NAME for the I pronoun regularly, this is VERY easy to do?

Also, the article doesn’t say that a chue len can also be based on a popular band/idol/actor at the time of birth. I understand from my Thai bestie that Golf/Gulf was one of these for a while back in the 90s? I think.

Anyway, I also found Thai names odd to start, now I barely notice or register. Partly because what we read in English captions often doesn’t really sound like what’s being said.

For example, both Tine & Type sound the same to me, like Tyyyyee.

Also I amuse myself with wondering how they got that name. Like if a baby is named Bbomb - erm, did they blow out their diaper all the time? Probubly not because that’s very English culture specific, but I’m still amused. Was War a really violent child? Are all those Flukes happy accidents? Why is Gameplay called Gameplay? Was he a big gamer who chose it for himself? Or did his parents get together because of an in-game romance?

It’s fun to think about the reason, because there usually is one.

There’s another naming convention the article doesn’t really talk about, which is all the chue lens amongst siblings often either rhyme (e.g. Win & Lin in Cupid’s Last Wish) or start with the same letter. Thai BL Kpop idol Bambam of GOT7 talks about this (he and his sibs all have B names). And also, hilariously, the fact that he actually doesn’t know his own brother’s given name because they have always just used the chue len with each other so he never had to learn it.

Some actors will take and go by (at least for a time) a more western sounding name (Phoom --> Pavel) but you’ll hear their Thai friends using their Thai name or a different chue len (much like some Korean idols). Others will go by a Thai name for in country work (Stewart --> Perth).

There is an episode of 2022′s Safe House where GMMTV actors all talk about their use names and where they come from and their siblings names etc... but no one ever translated it and I’m a dumbass who didn’t save that ep to link, sorry.

Here on Tumblr we tend to tag actors by their chue len + given name, partly because many actors choose that as their social media handles on IG etc...

Finally, you can watch Perth talk about some of this here on his YT channel.

from a question from @doorajar

(source)

#thai bl #thai names #why are thai names so weird #thai given names #chue len #thai cheu len #thai nickname #war wanarat #gameplay garnpaphon #tharntype #Gulf Kanawut #pavel phoom #Perth Nakhun #Perth Stewart #thai linguistics #thai language

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positivelybeastly · 1 month

Note

First question, what year was Hank born? Second question how might the events going on in our world have affected the characterization of Hank? Beyond the 90s incarnation of the character might make a post about this later…

So, asking for a set birth year for a comic book character is a bad idea, because with very few exceptions, they don't exist. For example, Google tells us that Captain America was born on the 4th of July, 1920.

Or maybe he wasn't? Apparently that got retconned and it isn't 4th of July, but it was 1920? Already we run into problems. COMIC BOOKS.

Outside of very specific characters, they just don't have birth years or birth dates, they exist within the Marvel sliding timescale. If you're not familiar with the sliding timescale, the basic conceit is this:

Modern Marvel comics began in 1961 with Fantastic Four #1. This is essentially the start of the modern Marvel era, and every other superhero group is contextualised in relation to this, pretty much. The Avengers were formed maybe six months, a year later, the X-Men not long after that.

For every 3-5 years that passes outside of comics, 1 year passes inside of comics. E.g. Fantastic Four #1 took place either 13 or 21 years ago, or somewhere in between, it's not an exact science.

As for Hank specifically, well . . .

October, 1983, was contemporary to Hank saying this.

That plot took place in a comic book from 1974, nearly ten years before this, and yet Hank says it's just "a few years ago." So time is passing, but slowly. Hank here is explicitly in his early 20s, maybe 22-23, but the Hank we saw in this week's X-Force #50 was not 40 years older than him. So, how to make it all make sense?

A lot of headcanon and kind of inferring based on contextual hints. Hank is depicted as being roughly 17-18 when he joins the original X-Men, given that he's stated in dialogue to be the oldest of the team, and seems to have been on the verge of graduating high school when his normal human life was interrupted. So, now you just work backwards.

If Hank was 17-18 when the original X-Men were formed, and it's been 21 years since then (referring back to the sliding timescale), then it stands to reason X-Force Beast is 37-38. If he's 38 in our current year of 2024, then logically, he would have been born in . . .

1986!

Which is what I've been running with for as long as I've been writing him. It isn't quite compatible with stuff like this, which is very obviously written in the 60s and set in the 60s, and which explicitly positions Hank as an Atomic Age hero, with radiation based origins and a super scientist pedigree . . .

But eh. We move.

As to the second part of your question

. . . Ooohhhhh boy.

Um.

There's a lot? And I hate to bring it all back to 9/11 and the War on Terror, but it's kind of all about 9/11 and the War on Terror?

Media about terrorism, security, threats to mankind, all looked very different pre-September 11th, 2001. Go back and watch Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, and see how Kira Nerys, a character who is explicitly called a terrorist in dialogue, is treated for her actions. She's positioned more as a World War II resistance fighter than anything else. If that show were made now, she would be an intensely different character, because the American cultural and media consciousness has never recovered from that day.

If you want to read more about this, there's quite a lot of academic discourse on how this has all changed. Here's a decent start.

But specifically Hank? Well, the X-Men have had their own 9/11. Multiple times. The Genoshan genocide, as depicted in New X-Men #116, actually just a few months before 9/11. It's entirely possible that this entire storyline might not have been made if it had been written after.

The Xavier Institute bus bombing.

The Decimation.

The X-Men became a beleaguered minority, besieged on all sides, reduced to the island of Utopia, just 198 mutants and falling. Cyclops explicitly became far more ruthless, willing to ally with former adversaries and use kill tactics to get the job done, and you could see his portrayal, the infamous #Cyclops Was Right movement, gaining a lot of steam during this era. People really like this Cyclops.

And where's Hank in this? Well.

He's the moral counterpoint.

People don't like to acknowledge this, and I feel like there might be a degree of cultural difference going on here, but Hank is correct. I feel like it's not even controversial to say that kill teams are bad. Right?

But people hate Hank for this. They think he's a whiny little bitch who won't and can't help, who runs out on his people, who prioritises his morals over being there for the X-Men. People legitimately think this of him.

Hank is the left wing, conscientious objector and anti-war viewpoint. So, naturally, there's a tendency to look upon him as a whiny little bitch. Just look at how shows like 24 contextualise that kind of moral viewpoint.

I do feel like the writers of this era wanted people to at least question who was right, between Hank and Scott, but the readers pretty much unanimously fell on Scott's side, because even as Scott started to use morally corrupt tactics . . .

He wasn't doing it for America, bullying small countries out of their oil in the name of democracy. He was doing it for a marginalised minority metaphor, fighting comic book supervillains, which is simpler, easier to root for. He had to use those tactics, you understand. He was fighting monsters! He was fighting the good fight.

Is 00s era X-Men War on Terror propaganda? I don't know. I'm not a political scholar, though I do have a B.A. in History. Interesting how the fandom seems to view this ideological conflict, though.

Anyway, time moves on, and then something starts to creep into Hank's character. Something that inevitably happens to characters like him.

Anti-intellectualism.

No longer is Hank the moral counterpoint, now he's the intellectual who will lead us all to ruin because he's smarter than he is wise, because he's an idiot with no impulse control.

This characterisation is wholly incorrect and runs contrary to the fact that Hank learned his lesson about unethical experimentation practises in the 70s, in an incident that only harmed him, but whatever. It doesn't matter at this point, does it?

Only people with real world experience, who are level headed, who aren't eggheads, can solve the real problems of the day. People like, uh.

Hmm.

Who does have the solution to the problems of the day?

Ah, I see.

We just forgive him for all the heinous shit he did on Utopia, huh?

All that stuff he did, the releasing bioweapons, the kill teams, that was fine, because he did it to the right people.

Well, that's all right, then.

Mmm-hmm. So much better than the egghead. Look at him in the corner, fumbling around, making more problems than he solves. What a motherfucker.

So, yes, let's talk about American anti-intellectualism.

I don't necessarily think Bendis is anti-intellectual. But I do think he spends a lot of time across multiple comics criticising Beast and valorising Cyclops, considering the worst thing Beast had done up until that point, vandalising the space-time continuum to get the O5 back into the present, was done explicitly so Bendis could play with X-Men with only 8 issues of continuity to keep straight.

But anything Cyclops did? All that X-Force stuff? Ehh. Don't worry about it. The only crime we care about is the death of Charles Xavier, for which Scott was possessed, so we can't make a moral judgement.

It's a whole ass topic, and a lot to get into, but I genuinely do think that Hank is one of those characters who especially suffers when written by a writer who doesn't trust vaunted intellectuals, because he's certainly not going to fucking flourish, is he?

And then it all comes full circle.

Ben Percy, enter the ring.

Wolverine, the unequivocal hero of X-Force. Beast, the unequivocal villain of the series. The heart vs. the head. The man of action vs. the intellectual. The rugged thug vs. the fancy pants necessary bastard.

It's the same thing, just more extreme, really. I think X-Force is meant to be a critique of the CIA? If so, it's an extremely bad one, considering it ends on this note.

Ah yes. Our heroes. The CIA.

I'm gonna quote the frankly incredible @brw here because they put it way better than I could on this point:

"This is genuinely a larger problem I have with Krakoa, is that rather than explore the culpability and complicity of all the characters involved in not just the creation, but the active maintenance and survival of what is, categorically, an eugenicist, oligarchy ethnostate, we instead act as if Krakoa would have been fine if not for Evil Hank/Evil Moira/Evil Sinister for ruining it all for the rest of us.

Because are Sage or Logan ever properly thought to be bad people for standing by as long as they did? It isn't even that X-Force are the people who do the dirty stuff–it's Hank that does that, and the rest of the character get to keep their hands relatively clean, at least narratively. They're sympathetic, or understandable.

Hank is positioned as this demon in the shadows ready to snatch you up and kill you which is a weird decision to make with what you describe as the CIA.

The CIA isn't evil because evil people are in charge of it, the CIA is evil because it is a fundamentally evil institution based off evil systems! Benjamin, you can't write mutant CIA if your closing statement is how awesome the mutant CIA is, and it's a shame about that one evil blue guy that ruined everything for everyone."

Good thing we got rid of that Beast guy! What a fucker, right? Nasty, gross, intellectual pustule he was, with his oily words and grossness. Look at him, reading books. Sage is fine, though, because she doesn't read books. I mean, she's quantifiably grossly incompetent in this series, but we like her better than Beast, so it's fine.

Beast, from the 2000s era onward, is a very political character. It's just a shame that a lot of comic book writers tend to be grossly ill-informed when it comes to actual politics, capable of only surface level hot takes like CIA bad or kill teams good, actually, because now we've gone from 'Beast is the left wing conscientious objector' to 'Beast is the literal anti-Christ,' and I don't really like what that implies about what we think of the former.

But eh. I'm just a writer.

#water-god19 #outofmuffins #hank mccoy #blood tw #fire tw #explosion tw #genocide tw

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