#so with their powers combined. a functional human maybe

[deepfriedpaddymayne]

Hi! I was wondering what you think about Augustin's sexuality esp during the getting pinned down/almost killed by Paddy scene=) I think he seems to enjoy it for a second, then gets annoyed and throws out the wife and kid line. But he also seems SO intrigued by him afterwards. Is he just comfortable in his sexuality?

hello anon first of all I am sorry for taking so long to answer this, it has been sitting in my brain for a long time. second of all mwah smooching you on the forehead for giving me an opportunity to ramble about my special boy

I am gonna preface this with the fact that while we do get a decent enough look at Augustin in the only two episodes we have him in, we do only have him around for two episodes. this means that a lot of my personal way of characterising Augustin is extrapolated from the little information we have, or from what I think makes a nice contrast with Paddy, because obviously those two are meant to be foils/parallels/mirrors/whatever it was that they were gonna do with them before the rewrites. replying to this ask is basically me explaining the process behind some of this extrapolation, because I think about Augustin Jordan a regular amount.

I personally find the way Augustin relates to his sexuality just... fascinating. on my first watch of The Sand Wrestling scene, my first impression was that the guy had to be ridiculously touch starved, because, like. it is undeniable that, even for just a few seconds, he was enjoying himself there. and okay, intricate rituals and homoeroticism and all of those things, but even then, Paddy is literally holding a knife to his throat. that should make you a little tense even if you are into sweaty wrestling with hot poets! and instead, Augustin is relaxing into it. as soon as the immediate fear goes away, he fucking melts under Paddy for a few seconds, and that's when the annoyance kicks in, after which his reactions seem a little more - contained, almost? he generally moves less and starts shushing Paddy, and then when he gets up shortly after he looks SO irritated (which is also so funny imo - my guy was just pinned to the ground with a knife to his throat by a guy who's famously insane and the most negativity he can muster is 'well that was annoying'). but of course, as you point out, after that, he is very obviously intrigued by Paddy - he's SO delighted when he realises that Paddy did just invite him to play russian roulette to prove a point, and in that entire scene he alternates between "my man you are insane what the hell" and "my man you are insane what the hell 👀". and the most obvious explanation for this is, ok, he's just very touch starved. sometimes it's just nice being held, even if that involves being threatened with a knife, you know? BUT WE KNOW HE'S NOT TOUCH STARVED. becuase we see him be physically affectionate with the rest of the French! he's not a loner who hasn't had any human touch in years!

which leads me to go, ok, well, then he's got to be very repressed. because that scene is quite sexual, blah blah blah homoeroticism of violence, while the rest of the affection we see him share with the others reads, at least to me, as very platonic. SO there is definitely some layer of repression going on - but I don't think it's a blanket repression of his sexuality. he's too confident later, when he goes up to Paddy and basically asks him if he's single while smoking his slutty little cigarette, to be someone who altogether panics at the concept of being into men. so WHY does he seem so irritated in the sand wrestling scene, and why does he throw in that line about having a wife and child? and I think the answer is that Augustin is a fairly controlled person. take the very composed confidence with which he shuts down Paddy's quoting TS Eliot at him, take the way he explains very flatly that they are used to following orders, take the fact that what he says to Paddy after the russian roulette is that they are here to defeat fascism, such a weirdly rational, to-the-point reaction to that entire interaction. he's upset in that moment, but he's getting himself together. he is very upset later, in episode 5, when he realises they've been betrayed, and even then, he keeps it together when he realises what Halevy is going to do, enough to encourage him and get himself out of there. Augustin is good at keeping it together, but here is the other thing - I think it's a facade. I think he's actually EXTREMELY intense, and this controlled rationality is not natural, it's learned. I am not sure why he would - though, again, I would guess that being gay in the 30s and 40s does all sorts of things to you - but I think he's taught himself to keep it together. and I think that's WHY he's so fascinated with Paddy, because Paddy is all but controlled. Paddy is a lot less insane than most people frame him as, but he is a wild, unbridled flood of emotion - especially when Augustin meets him, after Eoin, when the lines between feigned and real insanity start to blur. and I think seeing someone that's both so similar and so different from him is both scary and intoxicating for Augustin. imagine you spent your whole life teaching yourself to control your emotions and keep it together and then you meet a guy that's you, but whose heart is on his sleeve and constantly bleeding. terrifying, sure, but MAN, it must be a sight to behold.

and I think if you look at the sand wrestling scene from that angle, it makes it all make sense. he goes from the first moment of panic to elation to annoyance - and I think the annoyance is mostly at himself, because he's caught himself slipping, he's caught himself experiencing that rush of fear and adrenaline and probably attraction with a little too much pleasure. and that's why he says that he has a wife and child - not really because it's the being gay that he's repressing, but because he's kind of panicking at that flood of emotion (I personally believe he's lying in that moment - I know that it's possible that his file saying otherwise was just a mistake, but it's waaaay more interesting to me if he's lying. and, for what it's worth, the guy doesn't wear a wedding ring, on his hand or around his neck or anywhere else the costume department could have put it on him to signal that he's married). but later on, when he goes up to Paddy that evening, he's had enough time to kind of rationalise that emotion and slot it in a "well, yeah, that was kind of hot, but that's normal! regular body reaction to being pinned down by a hot man. nothing to unpack here", which obviously, insane thing to think, but it probably works for him, and I think that's why that relaxed confidence is back (of course, kinda too late by this point - my man is insane and now he's smitten).

so, tl;dr: I think Augustin is comfortable in his sexuality in the sense that I don't personally think he has too much of a problem with being attracted to men, but I do think he has a problem with, sort of, intense emotions and desire that he can't really control, and that's why he gets kind of irritated in that one scene. at the same time, he probably does want to break out of that strict control he's put himself in, which explains why he's immediately so taken with Paddy.

#this is over 1000 words jesus christ. all i can say is i am sorry. except i am not really i love talking about my special boy #i hope this vaguely answered your question anon. i think about augustin jordan a regular amount #sas rogue heroes #augustin jordan #paddy x augustin #oscar answers questions #idk i just think. augustin being both the same and the opposite to paddy in the sense that he's just as intense but wayyyyy more controlled #to the point of repression #is the most fascinating way to think about the two of them #because that way they can kind of influence each other either way #because i feel like paddy feels his emotions a lot but in a way where they tend to explode in his face #while augustin keeps a tight lid on them but in a way that's suffocating #so with their powers combined. a functional human maybe #i feel like this was a very paddy/augustin answer but like! i'm sorry you're not gonna convince me that augustin wasn't sooo into him! #like you can make an argument for paddy because he was still grieving eoin and that's messy but! augustin had such an embarrassing crush

[actual-changeling]

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner! I am fuelled up with coffee and my adhd medication, so this is about to be a RIDE.

Apologies in advance, since this post will probably get quite long and also scientific at some point, but I will try to keep it as plain and easy to understand as possible. Combine two of my special interests (Good Omens and chemistry) and you get absolutely insane infodumps; it's a blessing and a curse.

As always, this is simply a theory, and maybe I'm wrong, maybe we'll never find out. But it's an option, and I have canonical proof.

There have been endless theories about why the Gabriel-Hiding-Miracle (which I will shorten to GHM) set off alarm bells in heaven and reached a strength of 25 Lazarii. Are their half-miracles really combined that strong? Does it depend on their relationship or love?

Well, today I am here to tell you that, actually, there is no such thing as "half a miracle".

We are going to have a closer look at miracles themselves, but the first important thing to keep in mind is that most of the time, Crowley and Aziraphale are incredibly unreliable narrators and have barely any inside into how heaven and hell work. Remember, they have been on earth since 4004 BC, they are certainly not used to any of the internal routines and functions.

They can tell us all kinds of things, but that does not make them true.

Now, miracles!

Both angels and demons are capable of performing them, though they only seem to be counted as actual miracles when they happen on earth, seeing as they measured in Lazarii.

One Lazarus equals the miracle power it takes to bring one human being back to life—the consequence is that miracles must be bound to the earthly plane, since that is where their unit originated from. When they are performed in heaven or hell, they are still miracles in a broad sense—celestial beings using their powers—but not in a way that ascribes to the measuring system.

Neil once answered an ask about Lazarus as a unit, and he stated that miracles tend to be measured in Centi- or Millilazarii (mostly the latter), meaning that the GHM was about 1000x as strong as your usual, daily miracle. The labeling also tells us that the scale for Lazarii is the same as the metric one.

If we treat Lazarus as a base unit, we need to find a way of defining it that is unique to this specific unit.

Globally, we have a collection of agreed-upon base units, the SI units (coming from the French Système international d'unités, aka International system of Units). Those seven are second, metre, kilogram, ampere, candela, kelvin, and mole, and every single one has a very specific definition—they are too bloody complex. None of them can be expressed with one of the other SI units, which gives you great definitions such as these:

A little excursion for those that are interested: For a very long time, the kilogram was defined by. well. A cube. The "true kilogram", which is still in a vault somewhere in Paris. However, you can probably imagine why basing a unit on a physical objects isn't a great idea long-term, so back in 2018, the kilogram was redefined, along with three other units.

Now, all SI units are defined by natural constants, not physical objects, making them accurate and (more or less) absolute.

Back to miracles!

The reason I am telling you all this is that we need to find such a basic definition for miracles, too, or at least an approximation.

My proposal is that a miracle itself is the force exerted on matter by a a celestial being. That force is then measured in Lazarii, with one Lazarus being equal to the force required to bring one person back to life. This is where it gets a bit tricky because how do you visualize that kind of force?

Matter cannot be destroyed only created, so all the particles currently making up our bodies will continue to exist long, long after our deaths. Meaning when a person dies, the amount of matter that was them is still there, the consequence of which is that their body can be recreated at will. Now, souls seem to be separate from matter, making them metaphysical and thus irrelevant for this conversation. I am going with the assumption that once a body has been recreated, the soul can be put back into without additional cost in miracle power.

There might be another base unit hidden in the metaphysical, but that's a conversation for another time.

All of this amounts to one fundamental hypothesis:

A miracle is either done, meaning matter gets changed, or it isn't, meaning matter remains unchanged.

There is no in-between stage here, a "half-change" is not possible, either you exert a force on particles or you don't. What kind of change that is might not be tangible for us, but a change is a change.

When Crowley and Aziraphale try to hide Gabriel, they change the way he gets perceived, how others perceive him, aka they change the way his presence is processed.

The closest thing to compare it to, in my opinion, is the superior mirage—the Fata Morgana. At its core, it means that light bends as it passes through air layers with different temperatures; your eyes perceive the bent light rays and your brain processes them accordingly. You see images that aren't actually there.

Celestial beings look at Gabriel but see something that isn't actually there, so the "true" image remains hidden.

If we stick to this metaphor, then Crowley creates a mirage for any ethereal beings, and Aziraphale creates one for occult beings. The creation of that mirage is one miracle—not half a miracle, but ONE singular miracle. Both of them change matter, and both of these miracles can exist independently of each other.

Crowley and Aziraphale could have created their mirages on their own, meaning that two miracles were performed, not two halves of one miracle.

If you listen to the sound of the miracles, you can hear that it's different from the other ones they have performed on their own, with the "combined" miracle having two sound peaks instead of one. Tumblr hates it when I upload audio files, so have it like this.

In order, the miracles are Aziraphale lowering the chandelier and moving the shelves, Crowley removing the paintball stain, and the GHM.

IF they had both performed half a miracle, the end result would have been one miracle, meaning it should have sounded like any other—but it didn't! Two connected sounds, two simultaneous miracles.

There is still one thing left to talk about, which is the power of their miracle. Here is where my previous definition of Lazarus as a unit comes into play again.

Heaven measured a miracle power of 25 Lazarii aka a very high amount of force exerted on matter. You might think Alex, if they both performed their own miracle, how come that the alarm bells rang?

If we keep up the mirage metaphor, we can explain that! Crowley's intention was to make it so that ethereal beings cannot perceive him, so his miracle changed matter in a way that aligns with ethereal perception.

However, Aziraphale intended to change matter so that occult beings cannot perceive Gabriel, meaning his miracle changed matter in a way that is adapted to occult perception.

This is where science comes into play again!!

You see, particles aren't just particles, they are waves too. Wave-particle duality describes exactly that, e.g. an electron being both a particle and a wave at the same time. A connected theory to that is the Uncertainty principle, which describes the inability to measure the exact value of two different properties at the same time.

Or, to put it more plainly, if you try to figure out the exact position of a particle, its momentum becomes blurred, unclear. If you then focus on the momentum of the same particle, you can no longer describe its exact position.

You are probably looking at me now, thinking where the fuck are they going with this and why are there suddenly so many principles of quantum mechanics in a Good Omens meta post???

Crowley changes matter in way A.

Aziraphale changes matter in way B.

Those changes can co-exist, like an electron being a particle and a wave at the same time. However—and this is scientific theory adapted to celestial miracles—when an angel looks at Gabriel, then they are focusing on state A. When demons are looking at Gabriel, they are focusing on state B.

Focus on A and B becomes blurry. Focus on B and A becomes blurry.

Maintaining that double-state requires power though, because compared to wave-particle duality, these states aren't natural, they're inflicted—matter was changed. It's like the matter around Gabriel is flickering between those two states, a light switch trying to find a neutral position when there is only on and off.

How do we measure that power? In Lazarii.

The miracle energy that heaven measured is not that high because they each performed half a miracle and combined it into one, it is that high because they each performed one miracle that stands in opposition to the other; as a result, two different states need to be maintained at the same time, meaning the manipulation is ongoing, meaning it needs a fuckton of power.

If you want to keep balancing your light switch, you need to keep trying, you need to keep up the pressure, otherwise you either click it off or on. Same thing with the hiding miracle.

Twenty-five Lazarii.

The power you need to exert on matter to reshape twenty-five people—or to continuously hide one being from two opposing observers with rapidly-switching state changes.

While I think the whole "it's because of love" theory is fun and cute, scientifically it really doesn't make much sense because their powers have rules similar to our base units, so me must approach and treat them as such.

With that, thank you to everyone who made it this far and managed to survive our little excursion into the field of quantum mechanics.

Questions, thoughts, additions, etc. are very welcome!

#alex talks good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #good omens meta #half a miracle #alex's unhinged meta corner

[not-a-mimic]

why is it an important point that alan is very light sensitive and prone to migranes? other than being a disability rep for those of us who cannot function in broad daylight without sunglasses and explaining why the bright lights in aw1 are such a pain to look at (from alan's point of view) but like. it's important.

we see it in the flashback with alice where alan is hangover and seemingly has his sunglasses next to his bed already - a little weird right? and alice mentions them as well - because this is common. because he often needs them. frankly speaking from experience you don't get to the point where the sunglasses become a mandatory bedside fixture unless it's a really bad day often - which must be the case here. we also see then in 'herald of darkness' where "Dark shades could never save the day" and we see alan in shades. it's common for him. he does it often. mood! anyway mr champion of light being sensitive to light is just a funny coincidence right? wrong.

I also suspect that alan's tendency towards full outfits is also a part of this. no sane human wears that many layers in september, and alan specifically covers pretty much all the skin possible without looking weird.  also a lot of his article shots in rose'.... shrine have sunglasses and thick layers as well. this man is SENSITIVE sensitive to light and that's a coincidence I can't ignore in the remedy!verse.

alan was born (as stated in aw2) in 1977 - we don't know when, or where as he moved to new york later. his mother spent most of his childhood in psychiatric facilities, and his father is not only non existent but highly suspiously fictional (the only object we are told alan has of him is the clicker. the fucking clicker. tom zane's clicker that was definitely written into alan's life before he was born and was not a gift from his father proper. frankly we know the least about alan's childhood compared to all other remedy!verse protags - not knowing where or truly when he was born is important because it leaves options.

Light sensitive could be a coincidence - but we thought that about the nightmares too, and they turned out to be important clues. and hell-  *Scratch* is less sensitive to light than Alan is - only flashbangs and the super steong hand flares make him flinch, direct light seems fine unless super powered and normal flares are nothing. alan actively gets headaches from these things and obviously it hurts him. wtf is up with that? when the protection of the dark presence patches up your weakness you have a issue.

theory time:

we know alan is tied to this god damn lake. zane wrote it so - at very least alan was destined to fall in it at the end of aw1. but what if there is more? we also know that alan's darkness became at least the aw2 dark presence which. fine? an endless cycle of destroying yourself while under the impression that that's not yourself. we don't know if the dark presence in aw1 is also this same one, and if it isn't we now know there can be multiple dark entites (implied by Mr Scratch also). if it is then damn alan has issues.

I don't know if its just me but the fact that the small darkness within someone can be escalated out to being the whole larger dark presence at full power feels... off. that feels like it doesn't work with what we know of the entities- unless there was more darkness in alan then originally suspected fueling this presence. the strength of the dark presence born from him combined with the strength of his light sensitivity makes me very suspicious to how human he was originally, and how much of alan is just lake bullshit. if he was a creature or creation of the darkness forced into a human body (perhaps the 1976 awe the andersons fought back in brightfalls wasn't all it seemed. maybe the dark presence or something else was looking for a crack to escape through. maybe it succeeded, but was reborn as a human who was already showing signs at a young age of being light sensitive and also being a parautiltiarian, and a strong one at that.

maybe there was never a father because there was never a mother - linda wake may have found a child on the lake shore and adopted it as her own, not knowing the truth behind its origins. maybe the torchbearers who operated in brightfalls around that time were involved. maybe the reason alan and tom look identical is the dark entity needed human dna when being reborn as a human and zane was there at the right time. could be why other traits are shared, and zane foresaw and influenced the creation of the dark place to get what he wanted (after all it was borrowing from him his face and personality - at very least it could give him wiggle room to escape?)

alan always had... issues. darkness. a lot for a man. so what if its all supernatural bullshit? no one is looking too closely because there is supernatural stuff going on. I'm not sure this man is human, or at least his soul isn't and never was. some darkness wearing a human skin maybe, sensitive to the light but forced to manage it. I don't know, maybe I'm looking too much into this.

#im sorry something is fucking up with how alan was born and i refuse it ignore it any longer #alan wake #alan wake 2 #remedy games #remedy connected universe #theories #aw theory

[love-and-monsters]

The Ship and the Alien

5,486 words, GN reader X M alien.

Humanity sends the last of their species in hibernation pods to the stars. When you wake up an unknown amount of time later, you are on a different ship. Surrounded by aliens.

Content warnings: mentions of death and discussions of medical procedures and illness.

The Ship never had a name. People tried to give it one quite a lot. There was a naming contest first, which was a bad idea. You’d think the bigwigs would learn not to give this kind of power to the internet, but it never seems to occur to them until the two top names are ‘SaveyMcSaviorface’ and ‘The Biggest Dick Ever’ and they have to scrap the whole thing. ‘Eden’ was an idea they tossed around, but there were people who said it wasn’t inclusive of other religions and a bunch of Christians who didn’t believe in the concept at all who were pissed about the connotations of the name, so that didn’t work. ‘Destiny’ was another idea, as were ‘Eternal’ and ‘Onward.’ In the end, by the time anyone had even started to come to a conclusion on the name, everyone had started getting used to calling it ‘The Ship’ and no one was willing to change that for whatever sappy shit they engraved on the side.

Maybe they did eventually name it. I don’t know. I don’t know if it mattered, really. Anybody aboard The Ship wasn’t going to be calling it anything on account of being in stasis, and anybody outside The Ship wasn’t going to be calling it anything on account of being dead very soon. So. The Ship was a fine name to me.

The Ship was not actually one ship, at the time- it was technically seven ships, six stationed on different continents and one stationed at the north pole. They were designed to all lock together in one massive structure, but to be able to function independently, in case of a system failure. There were redundancies, ways to transfer assets between different ships if necessary, and about a billion other things that I never understood, but were probably very important for a metal tube hurtling through space. In all honesty, I didn’t pay much attention to its construction. Crushing despair combined with a vicious fight for survival every day takes precedence, you know.

You don’t know how you ended up on The Ship. You know the basics- engineers, designers, and construction workers all got immediate entry. That took up a few thousand slots. Then were the ‘important people,’ the sorts you would want if you were setting up a colony. Doctors, agriculturalists, building designers, all the big thinkers who can make sure that things run smoothly and work like they’re supposed to. Quite a few military members as well. After that, there was some debate as to who else could come on. Limited number of slots, after all. You heard a lot of very right people tried to pay their way on the ship, but it didn’t work so well. Money’s useless to anyone on the ship, and will be useless to anyone left on Earth. Some people traded favors and influence to secure their spots, but a decent chunk of people couldn’t do that and had to subject themselves to the same system as everyone else.

The way they picked candidates for the civilian slots on the ship was the same way anyone picks anything they want to be at least somewhat random: they made a computer do it. All civilians who put their names in a hat, basically, and the computer system drew them. No one could accuse it of cheating, because it was a computer. Well, people could, and they did, but the idea was that at least less people would accuse it of being impartial than if a human picked.

You were one of the picks. Placed into section 3, chamber 2, pod 3247. You didn’t tell anyone- you’d been asked not to, out of fear of retaliation from those who hadn’t been picked. You just left the shelter you’d been living in and headed to the launch site.

There was a brief physical, involving being stripped, shoved onto and into a ton of machinery, drinking some kind of gross shit that purged your body of what felt like everything you’d ever eaten, getting your head shaved, and an IV port implanted into your arm. You saw other people on occasion, going through the same thing before they were whisked away again. There were no opportunities to talk. Everything was brutally efficient.

You were allowed to sleep for a few hours on a hospital-style cot. You ended up just lying there and staring up at the ceiling. There were other people there, also trying to sleep and failing, but nobody talked. Everyone just waited.

In the morning, you were all herded into the body of the ship. It was massive, bigger than any building you’d ever been in, and still quite cramped when you walked into it. The room was cylindrical, with pods lining the whole thing. The walls rotated, allowing the pods to be lowered to the ground, people to be strapped in and put to sleep, then rotated up to the ceiling, ferris-wheel-style.

You were toward the back, so you got a good view of the people in front of you being placed into the pods, injected with the combination of fluids that would knock them out, hooked into the machinery, and then sent into ‘hibernation mode.’ On your turn, you were pushed into the pod, the fluid-filled bags that supported your body adjusting automatically. The fluid was administered through your IV port and the chill of it made your eyelids droop almost immediately. Your eyelids drooped. The world grew colder and colder as the pod lid closed round you and you were left in the pitch blackness of the pod. You couldn’t tell the difference between your eyes being closed and open, but you must have closed them at some point, because you did drift into the dreamless hibernation of spaceflight.

It wasn’t quite like falling asleep. It was more like closing your eyes for a couple seconds and suddenly everything felt like garbage. Your muscles cramped, your mouth was dry as a bone, your arm throbbed where the IV port had been attached, and your eyes couldn’t open. You coughed furiously as soon as you took your first breath.

The air that touched your skin was horribly cold, but your body couldn’t shiver. Despite having basically nothing in your stomach, your body kept trying to retch. Your limbs were locked up, barely able to move from the slightly-uncomfortable position you’d been forced into in the pod.

Something touched your arm and you screamed. Or tried to- your lungs forced the air out with a sound more like a grating huff. The touch was warm, blazing against your bare skin, and even the texture of it was unbearable. Being without sensation for so long seemed to have magnified your senses a thousandfold.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed before moving became tolerable. You tried to open your eyes a few times, but even once you could physically do so, the room was too bright to look at. You flopped helplessly on your back, squeaking and complaining whenever you were touched.

As your brain grew used to processing sensory input once more, you got better at figuring out what was happening to you. You were lying in some sort of thick liquid, with your head supported so your face was free of it. The thing that kept touching you was alive, presumably, because it was moving. It felt like you were being gently massaged. Kind of the massage used to help encourage blood flow in a limb.

You tried your eyes again. They cracked open, just barely. The light wasn’t so bad this time. Not good, but not bad, either. It stung. You could see someone, probably a person, moving around you, although you could barely even make out the silhouette. It was mostly a blur.

The massage was nice. It was sort of a more pleasant awakening than you thought you’d have. They’d briefed you on the awakening procedures- the pods would gradually warm up so you woke up slowly before ejecting everyone all at once. No one should be awake to care for you.  Maybe something had gone wrong? But not so wrong that you’d died, so it couldn’t be something you needed to worry about too much.

You took your time to come back to yourself, slowly warming up to your body again. It still felt like you’d spent a week and a half completely sick with the flu, but you were otherwise not so bad.

The room was slowly drifting into focus around you. It was actually quite dim, you realized. There were a couple of pale blue lights set into the ceiling far above you providing illumination for the whole room, so everything was dark and shadowy. There was still the silhouette moving around you, but they were sort of dark and it was hard to make anything out about them.

The silhouette moved closer, still backlit too much to make out features. There was something slightly off about the shape of it, with the head and the shoulders or something, but maybe that was some weird eye effect of the hibernation. Hallucinations sometimes happened after hibernation, they’d said. Nothing to worry about.

And then the silhouette spoke. At least, you thought it was speaking. It wasn’t using words, though. It made a low, sort of thrumming noise with the occasional pop or creak. They weren’t quite noises a human could make, or at least, not without great effort.

You froze. That was… weird. More hallucinations, maybe? Had the hibernation fucked with your brain so bad you’d forgotten how words worked? That wasn’t good- maybe that’s why you were getting woken up separately?

Before you had a moment to ponder that any longer, there was a mechanical click and a voice, sort of neutral and male, said… something. You still couldn’t understand what it was saying, but there was some confirmation that it was, actually, saying something because you recognized the language: Chinese.

There was a pause. The mechanical click repeated, and then the voice spoke again, in English. “Are you conscious and able to respond? Please raise an arm if you can understand what I’m saying to you.”

You raised your arm automatically, though it was a struggle to lift it out of the thick substance you were submerged in. The thrumming and popping noise started up again, followed quickly by a mechanical click and a voice in English. It reminded you of when they dubbed over someone on the news while they were still talking. “Please remain calm. You suffered some injuries to your extremities, as well as hibernation sickness. We’re attempting to stabilize you, but you’re in a delicate condition.”

You tried to talk, but your mouth was so dry your tongue was trying to glue itself to the roof of your mouth. If the person was bothered by that, they didn’t show it. They moved closer to your head, walking alongside the tub you were resting in. Your eyes tracked them. They were moving weirdly. Were they hurt, maybe? Alarm bells kept going off in your head, the uncanny sense that something was wrong, but nothing in your conscious brain could put together what it was.

The person moved so they were in one of the brighter section of the room. You could see more than just their vague shape. Your heart stopped.

They were not a person.

That was why their shape was wrong. You could see their torso, from their head to nearly their waist, and it was human only in the vaguest of shapes. Sort of a vaguely oval head, with a sort of human-like face, except it was flatter, with pointed, almost horse-like ears. Their eyes were a little deeper-set and rounder. Their coloration reminded you of a Doberman, almost, with black across the top of their face and a paler color underneath. Their torso was longer and more slender than a human’s with narrower, more sloped shoulders and long arms that folded up close to their chest. They made a sort of humming or purring noise as they leaned over you.

You struggled to sit up or scramble away, but you couldn’t move much. You couldn’t even scream, just sort of moan helplessly. One of your legs managed to kick out sideways and connect with the side of the tank. It wasn’t much of a hit, but that, combined with you straining the rest of your pathetic muscles to get away from the thing next to you, meant that you partially slid off whatever was keeping your head supported and your face went under the water.

It was thicker than water, but not by too much, so your head slid under it with disconcerting slowness. It was then that you discovered another disadvantage of your weak muscles- the substance was just thick enough to make moving through it, even just enough to lift your head out of the water, impossible.

You thrashed, but not really, since you couldn’t move. There was only about two seconds of panic, though, before hands locked around you and pulled your head out back out. You sputtered as the hands placed your head back on the little platform.

“Stay still.” Something was beeping frantically in the background, and you could both hear and see the creature shifting around to check on some machines. “The fluid is warming you back to proper temperature. You need to remain still and calm to avoid going into shock.”

There was no way you were not going into shock. But you’d used up all your energy in your near-drowning, so you couldn’t do much but lie there. The creature seemed to relax.

“I understand that you’re frightened. I promise, I’m trying to help you.” When you didn’t move, just watched them, they relaxed further. “Remain still. I will conclude the treatment.”

They fussed around for a little while longer, checking on whatever monitors were giving readouts for your condition. You weren’t sure what indicated that your treatment was over, since you didn’t feel much better, but eventually, they pressed a button somewhere and the fluid drained out of the tub. It was cold after the fluid was gone, and you were completely nude and shivering, resting on some pads at the bottom of the tub. The creature, thankfully, offered you warm cloths that you could bury yourself underneath.

Before you could even properly enjoy the warmth, there was the sound of footsteps approaching. A lot of footsteps. Summoning all your strength, you heaved yourself up and looked over the edge of the tub.

There were more of them. Only three, not including your creature, which didn’t seem to match up with the amount of footsteps you’d heard. And then you looked down a little more and realized why.

They were centaurs.

Sort of- their limbs weren’t hooved, and they weren’t really like paws, either. A bit more like bird talons, if birds rested mostly on their fingertips. Talontips. Whatever. They walked with their torsos bent further forward than centaurs, too, and they had long tails. A couple of them had horns, pointing back off their heads. They were wearing clothes that were relatively close-fitting, like most spacesuits you’d seen.

The one in front, with the largest horns and a sort of fancy marker around its neck, stepped froward. “On behalf of the First Branch of the Agrenier, we would like to officially greet your species. And offer our condolences.” This one also had their words picked up by the machine and recited in a language you could understand, though the voice the machine used was different, a little more feminine. Maybe this one was a woman?

The blankets hadn’t really calmed your shivering, but you managed to speak in a semi-steady voice. “Condolences?”

She scuffed one of her forelimbs, her ears lowering to the sides of her head. “Your ship was found drifting, nearly without power. There was some sort of error with major mechanical functions in the ship, which caused serious damage to the inner workings. Upon investigation of the craft, we discovered several hibernation pods, the vast majority of which were damaged.” She paused, still tapping a forelimb against the ground. “Two contained living members of your species, but you were the only one to survive the initial reawakening process. You have our deepest condolences.”             You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t think of anything to say. Your brain struggled to process anything. Two pods with living people. Only one survived the reawakening. That was- that had to be you, right? You were- the only-

Dimly, you were aware of the robot speaking again. It seemed to be rapidly switching between two agitated voices. People were having an argument, maybe? You didn’t care. You buried yourself under the blankets and hid in the warm cocoon until everything was dark and floaty and your brain didn’t have any thoughts in it at all.

Someone tried to tug the blanket away. You weren’t sure how long it had been, but it was quieter and your limbs were stiff from being in the same position. You tried to keep the blanket over your body, but there was another firm tug and you lost your grip. Your muscles were pathetic. And, as embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t help but crying out when the blanket was taken away. It was the one thing you had in the world and you couldn’t even hold onto it.

“I’m sorry.” The other voice, the one from your centaur, came again from the robot. It did a very good job at adding emotion to the voices- it sounded anguished. “You’re overheating, I need to take it, but I’m sorry.” You curled up on the bottom of the tub, unmoving. The centaur patted your head. It was a small gesture, but you leaned into it. What else did you have?

The centaur patted your head a few more times before moving on. “I know you’re probably scared, but we’re not going to hurt you. I’m going to help you. Your hibernation pod was the least damaged of all of them, but it still had some minor malfunctions. It was hard to wake you up, and you’re not going to be all there for a little while.”

You racked your brains. It was easier to think about facts. When you’d gotten on the ship, there had been a big disclaimer about the dangers of hibernation pods. They were designed to keep a human in a state of suspended animation, with body functions slowed down to the bare minimum. The upper estimate was that it could keep a human asleep and alive for over half a million years. Not that anyone had ever tested them before you. But they were also risky- even minor malfunctions could lead to an early awakening, damage to the body, or the hibernation process just killing a person outright. Even when they’d gone over that part, though, no one had left. Why would they? Between a one hundred percent chance of death and a twenty percent chance, who would take the former?

So the malfunction had probably been in the sleep-wake system, the part that regulated how the machine knocked people out and woke them back up. It was supposed to run through a wakeup cycle on its own when the main computer signaled it was time, but if that system failed, it could be manually activated, and if the waking system failed entirely, there were ways to safely bring a person out of the hibernation without machine intervention. They were always riskier, though, and even if everything was done perfectly, it didn’t guarantee a successful revival.

That must have been what happened to the other person, the one in the other surviving pod. They’d tried to wake them up and…

Nope. Focus on facts. You took a deep breath. “What happened to the ship?”

“We boarded and searched it, and transferred the central computer system over to ours, as well as the supplies we could budget the space for,” the centaur said. “I’m afraid I don’t know any more specifics than that. I’m sorry.”

“How was it damaged? You said it was damaged.”

“An impact, I think?”

“That doesn’t make any sense. The ship was designed with rotator shields and plating and redundancies to keep everything secure. It was safe. It couldn’t be-” You paused. “How many people were on the ship?”

The centaur paused, then turned to one of the machines and tapped something in. “About 45,000 hibernation pods were recorded to be on the ship.”

That was too few for the main ship, but it had been designed with redundancies. If the impact had left a portion of the ship crippled, it was designed to eject the damaged portion and continue on without it.

Which meant your portion had been spit out and left to drift while the rest of the ship continued on toward its destination.

So everyone on the ship wasn’t dead. They were just continuing on to their destination. Without you.

That should make you feel better, right? That they weren’t dead? But you just felt very, very… lonely.

“I’m sorry about your fellow passengers,” the centaur said. He was leaning over the edge of the tub, sort of draped over it so he was resting his arm and his chin there. “For now, you should rest.” He glanced toward the door and his lips lifted into a bared-teeth expression. “Before our first officer comes back.”

He lifted your arm and slipped a tube into the shunt. It took only a few minutes before liquid sleep was coursing through your veins and you fell into a deep sleep.

The awakenings happened on a more or less regular schedule, at least from what you would tell. Often they would happen in that warm bath again, with your centaur rubbing your limbs to encourage bloodflow. Sometimes there was the other centaur there as well, the female one. You were pretty sure she and your centaur didn’t get along. The robot didn’t often translate for their conversations, but they had the tenor of arguments, and your centaur was always huffy and quiet after speaking with her. You ended up keeping time by the awakenings.

After two awakenings, your centaur gave you food. It was all prepackaged meal sludge, which was designed for people who had awoken from hibernation recently, and it made your stomach cramp, but you ate it. After four awakenings, the cramps stopped and you could move on to a combination of meal sludge and broth. Whenever you could, you engaged your centaur in conversation.

“How’d you know what medicines and foods to use?” you asked as he pulled the line administering some sort of medication out of your arm and closed the shunt.

“We transferred the existing data of your ship’s computer over to ours. I’m using your ship’s guide, translated into our own language, and improvising with our own equipment where yours was damaged- the hibernation pod you’ve been staying in is one of ours.”

“It seems too small to fit you,” you said. You weren’t a small person- you were actually pretty average- but the pod was only a bit too big for you to comfortably rest in. The centaurs were bigger than you by a pretty big margin, even your centaur, and he seemed to be the smallest one you’d seen so far.

“Oh, yes, that one’s for children.”

“You put children in hibernation?” You tried not to make the statement accusatory, but it came out like that anyway. There had been no children on The Ship, for multiple reasons. First was practicality- having a population that could breed and work right away upon making planetfall was paramount, and children wouldn’t be able to do either. The second was that no one knew how hibernation pods would affect children. Would it damage their bodies? Their ability to age properly? Hibernation had only been tested on adults- it was hard to convince people to put children in pods that might kill or cripple them, even when the same people had no issue with adults, especially prisoner populations.

Your centaur seemed unbothered. “For medical purposes. That’s what hibernation pods are used for. Slowing the spread of disease until the person can receive medical attention. It’s highly risky to use hibernation pods for long term space travel.” His ears flicked. “Though under your circumstances, I can’t say I can judge you.”

Ah. If they had the computer’s logs, they all knew what’s happening to Earth. What had probably already happened. The planet had a scant few years left by the time The Ship left, and if you’d traveled far enough to come across real aliens, then you’d been traveling for a while.

The centaur walked around the pod as the entire thing shifted from a horizontal position to a nearly vertical one. “I’m going to unlock the restraints,” he said. There was a faint click and the straps that were holding you in place retracted.

Your legs wobbled. It took all your strength to keep your body upright. It was a strain to stand, to walk, even to sit up sometimes. But your centaur insisted on making you move around.

“Hands in mine,” he said, extending his arms. You placed your hands in his and stepped out of the pod. He supported most of your weight with barely a tremble as you took a few shaky steps. His hands enveloped yours, though that was partially because of their strange shape. Unlike human hands, his were six-fingered and bilaterally symmetrical, with four ‘fingers’ and two ‘thumbs, both of which were positioned closer toward the wrist and pointed further backward than human thumbs. Despite their alien shape, holding his hands felt remarkably similar to just holding a human hand. It was a comfort.

Just as you were completing your second circuit of the room, your legs trembling like a baby deer’s, the door opened. Your centaur glanced up and his ears lowered instantly. The centaur that walked in was the first officer, the female that you’d seen when you’d first awoken.

“Officer,” your centaur said. The machine that translated everything was apparently quite accurate with tone, so you could tell that he was being both polite and annoyed. “Good to see you.” He was not happy about seeing her. “I am in the middle of something, so if this is not a pressing issue, perhaps we could continue this at a later date?” Please, please fuck off.

The veneer of politeness he was using didn’t let her be outright annoyed, but the machine’s tone when it spoke for her suggested she wasn’t very happy either. “It concerns our guest,” she said, turning her gaze to you. “And it is somewhat pressing.”

Your centaur shuffled his back legs and swung his tail. “Very well. Let’s get you back to the pod.” He ignored her, focusing his gaze on you as he assisted you back to the pod. You let out a sigh of relief as soon as you were in it. Your centaur rotated the pod back into the horizontal position and started to fill it with the thick fluid that let you float comfortably.

The first officer approached, claws clicking softly against the floor as she did so. “The human will want to be awake for this,” she said. “It’s important.”

Your centaur huffed a bit, but he didn’t move to put the sleeping drugs back in your system and just folded his arms up to his chest, in a way reminiscent of a praying mantis, and waited for her to speak.

She cleared her throat and turned her gaze to you. “We’re coming across one of our stations. You will be placed on a shuttle to the station, and then sent on another ship back to Tenso-bara.”

You blinked. What was Tenso-bara?

“In my opinion, that’s not a good idea,” your centaur said. His ears were still flattened, his lips curling back from his teeth just a little. “The hibernation causes weakness and sickness, so it may not be a good idea for travel at this point in the-”

“We are not going to come across another station for several-” The translation stuttered here, blocking the word out. “And we are not in compliance with the endangered species accords. We’re required to send endangered species to occupied worlds that hold to the accords for proper categorization and preservation.”

“Those accords aren’t for fellow intelligent species!” your centaur huffed.

“They were initially designed for non-sapient life, yes, but they do not exclude sapient species. Given what we know, we may be sheparding the last member of the human species.”

“There might be others!” you said. The first officer paused, her gaze going piercing-sharp. “The Ship was designed to separate damaged segments to protect the undamaged parts. The part of the ship I was on was only a small portion of the full thing! There are probably others!”

The first officer paused. “How many others?”

“Um. I think there were around two hundred and fifty thousand. Maybe as many as three hundred thousand? I’m not sure- they were trying to add additional pods at the end, but I was put to sleep before that happened.”

“But there is no guarantee that these other people did survive. Nor do you have any idea where the ship is now.” The first officer’s voice wasn’t cold or cruel, but it wasn’t gentle, either. You drooped a little.

“No. There might be information on the computer about where we were when the impact happened, but if it’s not there, then I don’t know where the ship could be.”

“Then I apologize, but unless we have other living members of the species or some confirmation that the others are alive, then you are under the accords and cannot stay on this ship. It is required for you to be returned to a planet.” She stamped her two front feet in a motion you assumed was like a shrug. “There is nothing I can do.”

“If that’s the case, then I want to make a request,” your centaur said. He stepped forward, practically shielding you from the first officer. “I would like to request a transfer.”

The first officer swung her tail back and forth across the floor, making a soft schff, schff, schff sound. “You wish to go with the human.”             Your centaur’s ears twitched and he rubbed his wrists together. Maybe he was embarrassed at having been so obvious. “Ah, well. Yes. I think it would be a good idea to stay, since I’m already aware of the medical conditions and-”

The first officer stomped one of her feet firmly against the ground. “I will submit the request. But I cannot guarantee it will be approved.” She turned back to you, expression neutral. That you could tell, anyway. Their faces didn’t seem as expressive as a human’s. Or maybe you just couldn’t understand their expressions as well. “You will be transferred in two days.”

Without another word, she left the room. Your centaur made a noise somewhere between a relieved sigh and an irritated huff. Then he turned back toward you. “I apologize about her.”

“What was she talking about?” you asked. He picked up an IV line of sleeping meds and for a moment you thought that he was going to knock you out so he wouldn’t have to answer your questions. But he just fiddled with it for a moment before speaking.

“There are many species in the known universe, and the gradual colonization of these planets has left many of these species  in critical danger, which led to environmental accords. Severely endangered species have laws regarding their transport in space and species in critical danger need to be taken to preserves in order to breed them back to proper levels. Or just keep them until their species naturally goes extinct. Whichever.”

“I’m going to be put on a nature preserve?” you said, trying to sit up. Your centaur immediately tried to usher you to lie back down.

“Probably not for long. I’m sure they’ll work to give you freedom and self-determination and all that. We’re just… required to follow regulations.” He rubbed his wrists together again. “I do want to advocate for you, though, hence why I elected to come with you. And to give you medical care.” He made a series of thumping noises in rapid succession, which the robot apparently interpreted as laughing. “I didn’t get my xenobiologist degree just to hand a medically delicate specimen over to some idiot government worker.” His voice got softer as he continued. “You’re going to be okay.”

It was comforting to hear that reassurance. He slipped the line into the shunt in your arm and you closed your eyes, feeling an unusually peaceful sleep drift over you.

Part 2 here.

#exophilia #alien partner #alien boyfriend #monster romance #monster lover #male monster

[ibrithir-was-here]

Random AU idea that’s been percolating slowly in my head, but loose Once Upon A Time AU?

Basic idea is Lyta doesn’t give up on trying to get Daniel back at the end of Sandman, but goes even further hardcore and breaks into the garden of Destiny and straight up takes him on and thru some sort of magic + heartbroken madness+ righteous fury takes his book and rewrites her story to get Daniel back.

But beyond that Lyta wants all these beings that hold themselves so high to know the true pain their actions can inflict on mortals, and uses the books power to flips all the Endless out into the world as Humans with no memory of their past lives—and brings Morpheus back with them.

And now they’re all living miserable lives that have some sort of link to their function but in a way that makes them miserable but they can’t seem to break away from (like, Death is a doctor but always seems to lose the patients she gets close too? Desire is out there being ignored and never wanted by anyone and is separated from Despair, ect. Sorry it’s been a crappy couple weeks so my brain is shot for ideas on this exact part 😅)

There is one hiccup in this—Daniel, back to being a little boy, still has a connection to the Dreaming, and manages one night to bring the book The Sandman back with him from the Library. It’s not the full book, he doesn’t know his and Morpheus’s canon fates but between the book and his odd dreams he knows something has gone wrong with reality and the Endless and that he needs to find the Dream King and put things right with the world.

So he manages to find Morpheus and now has to convince him he’s the Dream King and his estranged siblings are the Endless and they have to find their sigils that have been scattered in the Real World to fix things.

Neither of them realize at first what putting things back to how they were will mean for them both, but eventually they do and are faced with the dilemma of fixing the world meaning Morpheus dying and Daniel losing his individuality/family (Lyta is not evil btw just really really scared to lose her kid and desperate to stop this Murphy guy who seems to be threatening her life) and trying to find a way to fix things without ending it the same way.

And Hob’s here somewhere too but I’m not sure which part I’d want him to take? Maybe he’s the Charming stand in to Dream’s combined Snow White role and he’s in a coma cuz he was dreaming of Morpheus when Lyta rewrote reality and it scrambled his brain? So he’s kicking around in the Dreaming trying to fix th8ngs from that side too/keep the kingdom from crumbling again?

(Destruction is probably also out there still as himself and can still remember the old reality)

((Tempted to have the Corinthian in a Hook-ish role and have it be a Hobrintheus AU))

Honestly this whole thing happened due to listening to this fan song while thinking about Sandman and it all scrambled in my head and poof xD

For reference to how the song AMV’d into my head: Daniel =Emma’s part, Hob and Dream = Snow and Charming’s part, Lyta= Regina’s part, Corinthian =Hook part and really don’t have a Rumplestiltskin part😅 Loki maybe? Oh! Maybe he as vengeance for Dream sending the Corinthian after him tells Lyta how to screw with Destiny’s book? With her not realizing he was the one who even stole Daniel in the first place oooh I like that it makes Corinthian as Hook work even better yeah!

(If anyone wants to do anything with this please feel free !)

#might do more art for this later but it’s late and I’ve got a busy weekend #but thanks for indulging this little thing x) #my art #the sandman #sandman comics #sandman spoilers #ouat #ouat au #dream of the endless #Daniel hall #destiny of the endless #Lyta hall #dreamling #hobrintheus #the corinthian #death of the endless #desire of the endless #destruction of the endless #sandman au #pattycake productions #hob gadling

[zeebreezin]

hiii its @neathyingenue!! just gonna go ahead and admit i am hazy on some of harb's details. this is an au for beverley yeah? or is it him in the future

Hello my good friend MJ Neathyingenue!! Dw about it I’ve actually been meaning to make a semi-formal summary on him so!

The Scintillating Harbinger is the Sunless Skies AU of Beverley, so yeah technically it’s him in the future (the wonderful year of 1906), but also it’s not the only possibility of him in the futures. Thankfully.

In the Sunless Skies AU, Beverley’s search in London failed due to Shaw’s machinations (and boy howdy did he do some shit). He never found his Dawnlight suitcase bomb - but more importantly, he never found out that B survived the shipwreck they disappeared in. He left London assuming his life’s work and his best friend were both lost to the waves, and threw himself into his work as a means to cope. It helps up until it doesn’t, and then he gets weird about the New Sun to cope.

Fast forward a couple years, and he’s risen through the ranks enough to be working on the Clockwork Sun personally, and rises to the Skies with the rest of the New Sequence. Surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly) leaving his home and the only world he’s ever known Doesn’t help Beverley’s mental health. So he doubles down on his love for the sun - this is when the idea that he’s given up everything for it really becomes mission critical.

And then the Clockwork Sun starts glassing/Dazzling the senior engineers. By the time it’s Bev’s turn he’s kind of a mess. Insert the fic I just wrote here, where he manages to stall out his own death with a combination of blind faith and mastery of the Correspondance, binding bits of metal to his glassy side to make it usable. However this has horrible effects on his sanity and overall health, he’s in constant pain and isn’t even really aware of that fact anymore due to being high on that sunny supply.

In my mind, Beverley’s become to the Logoi as the Clockwork Sun is to a Judgement. He’s just stuck in a (somewhat) human body. Right now at least. That’s part of why everything on his ship is - effectively - bound to live in time with his machinery.

Now with insane levels of… everything, he doubles down into his work of making Judgement Light powered weaponry, a speciality that gets him Victoria’s attention. Bev even starts bending the trapping of Other Judgements to make his weapons of mass destruction like the Icarus looking ass he is. For stellar service during the Winchester War (read: war crimes), he was awarded both the Victoria Cross and a dubious position of importance. Legally he’s a captain (despite having way more functional power) of a research Locomotive, the Deliverance, not a war engine. He just… has permission to test the creations on board on enemies of the empire! That’s all!

He’s also still dying due to the damage to his body, but he doesn’t really care he’s got other things to worry about :)

The actual story of him involves his encounters with Shaw’s son, Everett, who he… really doesn’t like, considering his history with Shaw in this AU.

That’s the TL;DR!

#zeeposting #officer beverley #the scintillating harbinger #tw body horror #fallen london oc #ok there we go!!! #lore #long post #OOOPS

[solomons-poison]

okay then, prompt #5 having a crush on Sol fluff, please :’) ✨

Having a Crush on Solomon

A/N: I'm always weak to fluff with Solomon, so this is a cute prompt! I can imagine this going two ways, either Solomon being a tease and lording it over you, or he becomes speechless because.. you?? Like him??? Have a crush on him???? He has a chance?????? He talks big game but we know the truth lol

Featuring: GN reader || Solomon x reader

Warnings: fluff, Solomon is a bit of a tease 😏

══════════════════

Having a crush on Solomon is nerve-wracking, to say the least. The great and powerful sorcerer, Solomon the Wise, your own personal magic tutor and someone that made pacts with 72 demons. Despite his odd quirks (or maybe because of them), combined with his sense of humor and general fun attitude, it's not really a surprise that you've developed a crush.

Perhaps it's a slow development and realization; after weeks of magic lessons, realizing more and more often that you don't want to leave yet, you don't want to stop hearing his voice telling you about the histories of incantations and maybe some stories of flubbed spells he cast in his youth. That your heart aches at the thought of not getting to see him, even just for a few days, and squeezes tight when you get a text from him.

Or maybe it's a slap in the face, because he just happens to smile at you at the right time, sunlight streaming down and highlighting his fair hair, he laughs at one of your jokes, or maybe shares an awful meme with you, and you realize: you like him. Badly.

Despite how "wise" Solomon is, he may be out of touch with human emotions after so many years spent with demons and angels and generally non-mundane things, so he might not pick up that you have a crush for a while, if at all. And given his history with gaining and losing people over his long lifespan, he may have also developed blinders to these things to prevent getting hurt.

If he does manage to find out your crush on his own, all that composure is gone. He may pretend to be unaffected on the outside, but he is definitely having a small freak out inside. First of all, you like him? Like, like like him?? He hasn't scared you off or bored you somehow? He'll be like a schoolboy, giddy and excited and brain not functioning during this revelation.

Once he moves past the initial freakout stage, he may play just a little dirty after finding out your secret. He'll do little things to tease you; it's mean, he knows that, but he can't help but want to see more of how exactly he affects you. Sitting a little too close during lessons, randomly giving you flowers, performing little magic tricks just to see your eyes light up. But don't let his outward composure fool you, he's just as nervous about this crush as you are.

If you tell him about the crush yourself, you'll get the added benefit of seeing that break in composure in person. He'd likely even be a little speechless for once, while his brain is processing this information. You'll know he's done thinking when his cheeks turn that adorable pink and he can't hold eye contact anymore. Even if he can't answer you immediately, you best believe he'll be formulating the perfect response to your confession. Whether or not he harbors the same feelings, it still shakes him a little, to be honest, but he'll be respectable about it. His amazing apprentice deserves the best, after all.

#been staring at these in my inbox cause my brain was not functioning last week #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #obey me shall we date #obey me hcs #the minx can write ✍️

[sorcerous-caress]

Another human kink idea that pop up in my head

Imagine how elves wizard who study magic for hundreds of years to realize that they are on the same level of 20ish yo human wizard

I hope you are doing well btw

— RED anon

Yes! That fact never made sense to me either. For example, if Gale, a human who's clearly in his 30s, managed to become an Arch-Wizard, then what's stopping elves with lifespans ten times his own.

Theory A

Humans are born with an invisible xp multipler. Since at the end of the day, the dnd universe functions by game rules, and characters do, in fact, "level up," but they're not aware of it themselves.

To make up for their short life spans, all short lived races either are born with an xp multipler that lets them achieve more faster, or elves are born with a xp multipler that has a negative penalty.

So if a human by themselves has a multipler of 100% per year of magic study, then elves would have a 10% multipler. While dragonborns would have 110%. Kenku and Goblins get a 140% etc.

What about immortal creatures? Simple, they start with 100% or whatever their base race multipler is and suffer a decay penalty the more years they live past their age. But i feel like there should be a cap, maybe it can never get less than 1%.

Theory B

All races have the same xp multipler, but elves tend to fuck around doing nothing all day more. Maybe study one page for week and call it a day. It's not on purpose but their perception of time is really altered, what feels like hours to us might be seconds for them.

So if an elf really wants to, they can study all their life and actually become one of the most powerful arch-wizards. But they just...don't for some reason. Maybe it's the way Corellon made them, maybe being a wizard is scoffed at amogst their ranks because they are all born with inherited magic and the idea of learning and borrowing magic from the weave is insulting. Like how in drow society, most wizards are male, because if a women can study or do magic then it's considered much better to become a priestess of Lolth. Being a wizard is an insult.

Theory C

Because humans are speical and I said so :"((((

Because what if they really are? What if elves have been genuinely trying their best to become wizards and study all their life but for some reason, it's just not enough, yk. Maybe the weave prefers the short-lived, maybe Mystra prefers the humankind. Who knows.

Magic is Not like math, at least not like non-quantum math bc god knows that shit is the closest we will ever get to actual magic. People have been trying to marry it with actual physics and our normal math for years to no avail.

That's why kids are so much better at magic, you see. Magic is limited by your own brain, your own creativity and how you bend the rules.

What are humans known for? Their endless potential and creativity. What are they best at? Breaking the rules.

Maybe the human brain just clicks with magic. Our entire evolution of becoming really good problem solvers. Maybe solving puzzles for fun is a unique experience for humans which is why most of them end up falling in love with magic.

Anyway, that's all for the theory, kinky smut below about wizard elves and humans.

Okay so hear me out. You're a child prodigy in magic, far beyond your years and your understanding of the weave is so personalised and intimate that by a young age you started writing books to teach others your own ways.

As the years went by and the more wizard study certificates you've collected, you decided to teach at a magic university. You were so far known but the one thing everyone glosses over was the fact you were human. It was never mentioned in any of your books or writing.

So you're this cute young human professor at this prestigious high elf magic academy for wizards. Standing in front of rows of people much older than 4 or 5 of your generations combined. Having to teach them and be stern.

But they're being so stubborn and petty about the fact that a meek human is trying to act like their superior. Especially being high elves and all. They're tried to not take you seriously and skip your class but found out later that you're one of the mandatory classes for them to graduate so they begrudgingly attended.

Maybe they start thinking of you as eyecandy. Shamelessly glancing at you when you bend over to help look at someone's paper, maybe they start dropping the prof honorific and address you by a name or a nickname in elvish you're not aware of. Maybe even that elvish word has a perverted meaning that flies over your head when you happily answer to it and think they're warming up to you.

They try to become really close, inviting you to their hangouts, inappropriate parties, and everything that a professor shouldn't be attending. They hand you drinks and watch you swallow them down, coaxing you into showing them your cute human games, truth or dare it was called right?

One student dares you to sit on their lap, they coo and run their fingers on your body. Another skips turns to dare you to take your blazer off, why are you wearing formal clothes here?

#♡human kink #♡human reader #and I'm doing well thank you for asking ♡♡ wby?

[fights4users]

The quorra problem | Programs, isos and the real world

Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with Quorra as a character! It’s more of a story element critique if anything, please read and don’t jump on me for the title. Quorra is adorable and I enjoy legacy- even if it doesn’t look like it from how I keep tearing it apart.

It’s a damned if you do damned if you don’t situation. On one hand you can’t leave her inside the grid when Flynn decides to literally go nuclear but you can’t leave her in the real world either. They have to because they wanted Flynn’s self sacrificing ending or wrote themselves into a corner (this isn’t about reintegration but I will still complain) and this was there way out. But they didn’t consider the implications of it at all.

Cosmic horror-

I’ve made several posts about it and still want to write something with this idea but to a program— the real world wouldn’t be so miraculous like how we see theirs. The minute you’re outside you’re Imediately bombarded with sensory overload and just too much information to process. The grid, which is much more human in its design than the ENCOM system, is still infinitely more minimalist than our world. One of the best scenes is Clu and his team raiding the hideout and not knowing what a single thing is and freaking out, she seems too well adjusted for someone who’s spent a few hours max here— look I know it’s the end of a movie and they can’t do that whole arc, but I digress.

Also don’t get me started on the rumored Ares plot and how they totally forgot quorra is already a program(technically iso) in our world- also it’s not really a “tron” movie plot— where’s the allegory?! The metaphor?! The symbolism?!

Another thing is that…Sam can’t tell anyone about her. Maybe Alan but her mere existence in our world is brain shattering. Trying to explain a advanced humanoid being that’s not here to harm us and is totally cool guys almost never goes well. It also leaves people a LOT to grapple with…like everything we know being forever altered.

This whole situation should be terrifying from both perspectives, however I love the theory that the only reason she was able to get out into the real world at all was because of Flynn’s data stored in the beam. That’s a great thought that almost makes me like her being in the real world just from how much impact that is.

Infectious-

What happens now? She can’t be revealed to the world (yet) and to put her back in the remains of the grid would be cruel. Putting her in another system would be wildly irresponsible because- do we even know what ISOs do? Across all media its “they’re special” but absolutely squat on their actual function or what they’re capable of. We see they have some kind of digital dna that’s literally a miraculous occurrence but that’s about it. Did Flynn even know? Are they just there- existing but not effecting/having a real world computer impact? Or worse - what if clu was right and they did contribute to the crumbling state of the grid? (I think it was a combination of his own fear and scapegoating—I’m just tossing the idea out there).

Sam transferring her over to another system without knowing what she does or how she could effect it would be disastrous. Am I saying she’s dangerous or would have any intent to harm? No not at all that’s now who she is, but it’s sort of a “releasing a domestic cat into the woods a state over” you don’t do that.

Does she get a regular job now, does Sam hire her at ENCOM? She’d likely be some sort of computer smart…in that she come from one. Or does he like —- set her up at a McDonald’s? How’s she get energy does she get plugged in- being in the real world isn’t going to magically give her a stomach. Sam just takes her to a power grid and she causes SoCal to blackout lmao.

Open portal-

I’m aware most of this post is just me overthinking the implications of everything they didn’t intend us to think to hard about. It’s supposed to be “yippee they’re safe” and I’m worried about digital ecosystems and what the human brain can handle. I think my problem mainly strives from this trope where the character brings home their friend from the other world/ is the reverse situation and no one bats an eye at all. It’s because they want the characters to still be friends no matter how many rules it breaks or sense it makes. It happens most commonly in cartoons. (There’s at least 3 in recent memory)

I’m not saying I want quorra to have been caught in the blast but that there’s a way they could’ve kept communication without world breaking. Open portal situation where he goes back to visit, he chats with her on the screen, both stay in their own worlds its sad but logical etc (I’m not writing a new ending but you get the point).

I guess it annoys me so much because it’s left so open ended, ride off into the sunrise while ignoring the implications™️. “I guess, We’re going to change the world” ok how 🧍‍♂️. The movie did not nearly give me enough information about ISO’s to see what changes they exactly do besides taking over ENCOM. “They[Iso’s] changed everything” ok how🧍‍♂️. Yeah it’s immaculate conception but what do they do I am shaking your shoulders Disney what do they do!

It’s not quorra I’m mad about or even the concept of ISO’s but it’s how the writing just falls short in these HUGE areas that require a lot of lore and information to be given that they just do not. And consistently don’t In the other media forms like betrayal (I haven’t seen uprising maybe they explain something). If you’re going to have beings that shatter your ideas of reality you sort of have to explain that!

#my old man yells at cloud moment #quorra McDonald’s au when? #tron #tronblr #tron legacy #tron lore #quorra tron #Sam Flynn #quorra #isos #programs tron #incomplete world building #critique #otherworld trope

[underscoredinnisg]

i kinda want to make an ao3 account to write a self indulgent fic about saiki k where theres a transfer in Toritsuka's class (set like just after Toritsuka transfer's to PK) but none of the physics know that the newest transfer has powers and they slowly figure out, but the transfers powers are centred around bugs. so he can shapeshift into any bug(of any size), shapeshift specific body parts(ie give himself wings), talk to bugs, summon bugs, ect as long as its bug related. and he really enjoys it, but the draw back is he constantly has these two antennas that stick straight out of his head, so he has to have hair that goes like just past his shoulders so he can tie the antenna into ponytails and stuff (maybe like nagisas haircut from assassination classroom).

i think also what would happen is that a couple of saikis powers wouldnt work/ wouldnt work right on the transfer. so like saiki cant read his mind because well... hes technically a bug, even though hes like a functional human, and it baffles saiki even more once he notices because the transfer doesnt ACT like nendo, if anything he acts more like saiki and aren combined (chill until pushed over the edge). another thing that saiki notices that weirds him out if that his x ray vision doesnt work on the transfer (because the transfer has an exoskeleton or smth idk it just doesnt work).

if i do make an account and actually write the story ill post it on here, like ill link it. idk ive just had the idea floating around for a while now and i kinda want to write it just cuz why not (also it might turn into a saiki X the transfer student just because i want to)

#saiki k #saiki k is so<3 #kusuo saiki #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki k x reader #saiki x reader

[sepublic]

When Lloyd opens the Hypnobrai Tomb, it releases some evil-looking green gas; Similarly, when he opens the Fangpyre Tomb, there's some mist. This is obviously just musty air escaping after the tombs are depressurized, but it makes me think about how the Anacondrai Tomb doesn't have the same thing when it's opened. And we can't say anything about the Constrictai or Venomari Tombs, since they were already opened off-screen before we get to see them.

There's a question of how the Serpentine didn't all starve to death in the tombs... Except for one tribe, the Anacondrai. And this gets me into my little HC;

When the Serpentine were entombed, the humans of Ninjago DID at least consider that they'd starve to death very quickly under these conditions. So they opted to fill the tombs with some sort of magical gas that places the affected into a deep, eternal hibernation, where their bodily processes are effectively halted, and they no longer need nourishment or even a constant supply of oxygen to survive. The idea was that the Serpentine wouldn't really die, they'd still live on forever in an eternal slumber (though this is still fucked up and undeserved).

The tombs are indestructible, which is why the Constrictai can't just tunnel out of them; Though in the case of the Constrictai's tomb, it had multiple floors built out of softer earth for them to dig through. So even if the Serpentine did awaken, they couldn't get out. And therein is what happened to the Anacondrai...

Their indestructible tomb wasn't built properly; It formed cracks, causing the preserving gas to leak out. As a result, the Anacondrai were awakened, only to find themselves trapped; The openings weren't large enough for them to fit through. So freedom was just tantalizingly out of their grasp, and it was that mockery of freedom that awakened, and ultimately doomed them. Despite the tomb's structural flaws, the combined strength of the Anacondrai wasn't enough to widen the gaps or break it open.

They tried everything; They tried slimming down, even forcing and breaking their bodies through. They tried screaming for help but there was nobody for miles to hear them. The Anacondrai even sent hatchlings out through the cracks, children small enough to get through. They desperately hoped these infants might be able to find help, but alas, all of them died of starvation before they could find help, or were picked off by local wildlife. Maybe even killed on sight by humans who thought they were just ordinary snakes.

I've hc'ed the Anacondrai as naturally voracious, due to Pythor as a precedent. Similarly, I've hc'ed that their venom causes a person to slowly starve to death, with their metabolic functions messed up by the venom so that even if they ate food, they wouldn't absorb the nutrients; A pretty terrible way to go, and some may argue karmic for the Anacondrai.

Anacondrai are powerful and strong, but they have massive appetites in order to fuel such strength. They tried to stave off starvation, but eventually they had to resort to cannibalism, drawing straws and whatnot to survive. But at some point, their instincts took over, someone cut themselves by accident and blood was smelled. And then there was a feeding frenzy born of madness and desperation, and I should clarify, none of it was their fault nor 'deserved'. Pythor, who was always less of a combatant and a black sheep for this reason, survived because of luck, and because he stayed in a corner and picked off those injured.

Everyone succumbed to their injuries, sans Pythor, who now had an entire feast to sustain himself, but at what cost? And by the time Lloyd found him, he was already running on fumes. The other tribes were lucky; They woke up when their hibernating gases were released through the large, empty, open doors to the tombs. Not through cracks too small for them to fit through.

Did anyone mourn the Anacondrai, outside of Pythor? The other tribes didn't seem to, and that was because the Serpentine tribes already hated one another, and feared the Anacondrai. But I wonder if their genocide was still a rallying cry for many. And of course there was Chen's cult, but it's made clear that they did not really care for the Anacondrai themselves, just the idea of them that they wanted to appropriate.

...Anyhow, do you ever think Wu, Misako, Ray, and Maya (as well as Garmadon and Mystake posthumously) were ever charged for war crimes? Because it fucks me up how Wu was there when the Anacondrai generals pleaded for mercy and WERE at their mercy, but then the humans just chose to be ruthless and cruel by literally banishing them to hell. Garmadon at least has the excuse of evil running through his veins and Mystake, as a former Oni, might still be unlearning stuff (not that this was the intention at the time the scene was written), but the fact that Wu is fine with it, and nobody is called out over it afterwards, indicates all of the humans (including the FSM) were A-okay with it! Jesus. Kind of a far cry from Lloyd willingly risking his life to save Rapton, a human who chose to hunt and torture dragons.

#Ninjago #Anacondrai #Serpentine #headcanon #headcanons #Pythor #pythor p chumsworth

[inventors-fair]

The Best of the Rest: NPC Winners ~

Our winners this week are @helloijustreadyourpost, @izzet-always-r-versus-u, and @sparkyyoungupstart!

@helloijustreadyourpost — Vicious Headcrab from the Half-Life series

Immediately, this has got to be one of the cleanest transitions from other media to a magic card, full stop. Or, it's the cleanest that I recognize enough to confidently state as such. Still, this is at its core a very simple and intuitive card that does something extremely unusual, which always catches my eye. It's a tricky proposition to have a 1/3 defeat anything in combat without tossing in an extra card, but given how much of an upgrade the token is combined with the occasional upside of exiling a key creature, I'd say that this number of hoops to jump through is perfectly warranted. The necessity of sacrificing the headcrab also helps enforce a sense of fairness, as you can't simply slap deathtouch on it and trade up with something far larger. At this very least, though, this creepy critter preys on tokens all day long.

@izzet-always-r-versus-u — Lycan Blood Hunter from Critical Role

The first thing that immediately interest me about this one is just how distinct it is from every other werewolf we've seen so far. Nowadays more than ever, Magic's werewolves are pretty set in their ways, and barring a thematic shakeup from an as-yet unexplored plane, that's not liable to change. Leave it to Universes Beyond to pick up the slack, and offer glimpses into other fantasy worlds where familiar types appear in unfamiliar places. The "transformation" being tied to being under half your life is a great move, I must say, and the idea of literally bleeding yourself to produce blood tokens is so clever that I was shocked to learn that no such card already existed. Part of me wishes this also lost its Human type when it's "transformed" like fellow D&D-related card Werewolf Pack Leader, but that's a minor blemish on an otherwise sterling card.

@sparkyyoungupstart — Hiss Distorted from Control

I mean this in the best way possible, but: what? Having no knowledge whatsoever of the source material, I can really only guess as to what's going on here, but what I do understand has me absolutely fascinated. The creature type alone is a standout, but that's hardly enough to get it to the winner's circle. No, it's here because of that effect, and oh, what an effect! Reconfiguring foretell into a bizarre mirror-universe version of dash is quite the move, to be sure. Utilizing the inherent turn delay of foretell to justify the absurd power by forcing the card to be foretold even more so. It does somewhat lose the element of surprise that characterizes foretell after the first time, but it hardly needs it (and it wouldn't even be the first. Looking at you, Foretold Soldier). There is one slight concern that I can't rightly ignore, though. I'm not entirely sure if this was your intention or not, but due to the underlying mechanics of foretell, you can foretell it during your end phase after it returns to hand, meaning that every cast of it past the first is every turn rather than every other one. If that's not intentional, it necessitates moving the self-bounce later into the turn cycle, such as during your upkeep. If it is, I would recommend maybe moving it earlier in the turn instead, such as after combat. It wouldn't change the functionality, but it would make the card easier to understand, as that interaction is something a lot of players are liable to miss their first time playing with the card.

~

Runners will be up before too long, with commentary later today. @spooky-bard

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #inventor's fair #commentary #winners #npc contest

[separatist-apologist]

Ugh, I don’t wanna go to bed at a reasonable hour and be an actual functioning human being again tomorrow.

Will you tell me a bedtime story to help me fall asleep?

How about a little Montana!Cassian under the cut?

Nesta was in hell. 

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large brown horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny black sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six. 

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five nine without heels but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty. 

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle. 

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle. 

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown. 

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied. 

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.” She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town. “And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them. 

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb. 

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care. 

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her? 

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego. 

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t. 

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened. 

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.” Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a ruler follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.” A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope. 

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance.

#its not a complete story #but i think this is satisfying

[arinqiart]

Mega Man Magic AU/Mega Man Machina:

I should maybe do a light explanation on what are The Machinas since i shared it on twitter already

What are Machinas:

While they carry over the namesake and design elements of their Robot Master and Net Navi counterparts, they are a different species just like how Robot Masters and Net Navies are different. They are magically enchanted machines who were created by Humans in the war against Faeries, while Robot Masters are created from metal and other physical materials and Net Navies from Data. Machina combines the two former concepts making them be created from not only materials but also an intangible but flexible energy called Aether.

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

Visual Aesthetics:

Machina in visual design and aesthetic resemble and represent elements from Age of Antiquity,Bronze Age, Silver Age, Early Industrial era and all eras before the 1900's taking lots of insipiration from other fantasy genres as well like mythology, steampunk, dark fantasy, and sometimes horror as well as lovecraftian

Since they are powered and created by Magic, they dont really have a design limitation per say like NetNavies and the no clothing rule, and dont have to look robotic like the Robot Masters, they can be made from literally anything and look very strange and can still be classified as Machina. The only thing you will very rarely see them wear is the NetNavi spandex or the Robot Master undies, most wear clothing, a dress, or a form of skirting such as a loincloth from the waist down.

But as a general look. They do tend to look more eerie and unfriendly compared to their Robot Master and Net Navi counterpart due to their initial primary function in war and combat(but not all)

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

Machina and Free Will:

What makes them different though is that Machinas have full free will. *Its a requirement to wield the full capabilities and potential of Magic*. But was put with a curse that forces them to be obedient to Grand Magi Wily, failure to do so and Machinas are to be "Cleansed" or be eliminated by the Iron Executioner

I wont reveal right now what "The Cleansing" is right now but lets just say its not pretty. Also i wont spoil who this Iron Executioner is but will reveal later too(you can guess tho👀).

#mega man #megaman #rockman #megaman machina #mega man machina #megaman au

[anime-penis]

Weird asks:

If reincarnation were real, but you could not come back as a human, what would you want to come back as?

If you could only play one specific board game the rest of your life, which would you choose and why?

How do you feel about roundabouts (aka traffic circles)?

If you could magically cure any one disease or health condition, which would you choose?

If you were forced to lose one of your five senses, which would you choose and why?

If you could gain a super power, which would you choose and why?

How do you feel about oatmeal?

1. my instinct is to come back as a dog or a cat but then i can't predict that i'll land up in paris hilton's purse eating gucci pork treats or whatever so....maybe some kind of bird? an owl maybe they seem cool, mysterious and murderous

2. one board game forever? 🤔 i would probably say something like trivial pursuit? general knowledge, colours, shapes. i'm very easy to distract

3. LOVE a traffic circle, hate when people don't yield but as a concept? yeah baby. plant some shit in the middle so it's pretty AND functional? yeeeeahh baby

4. can i cure mental illnesses? cause i would absolutely get rid of depression. clinical or otherwise just pop this pill that looks a little like a tic tac but most definitely isn't a tic tac and you'll be all gravy

5. i would sacrifice smell. sure it would fuck with my taste but i'll just double down and stimulating touch experiences and the exploration of textures to try and compensate? idk 🙆🏾‍♂️

6. telekinesis or light manipulation. telekinesis for obvious reasons (make snacks fly into my mouth, rip boy shirts open with my mind etc) and lightwave manipulation because it combines invisibility with the ability to bend light to create forcefields. would i use to mostly entertain myself? yes and??

7. my thoughts and feelings on oatmeal are as such: solid breakfast, consistent and reliable, thick, the stable bf of breakfast foods

more random asks always! thank you boo 😘

#me #asks

[coffeewritesfiction]

WIP Questionnaire

Tagged by @bee-barnes-author, thank you!

Gently tagging: @slenders1ckn3ss @kmlaney @bardicbeetle @astras-rambles @meerawrites @musingsbycaitlin @andromedaexists @dyrewrites and an open tag! Blank questions below the cut

For "Farewell Vesperos":

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created? For the Runner Owen series as a whole, it was all spawned by a single image of a gothic city floating in the sky. It's changed a lot since then, over five years ago I think. I don't remember the first part I came up with for Farewell Vesperos itself, but it was probably the Vesperos family it's named after.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? For Runner Owen? Instrumental, for sure. Owen, my protagonist, walking through the foggy, crystal-lit streets of Theris. Being watched by people in brighter windows, or following him in the darkness. He turns around and lifts his lantern to see... Cut to the title screen.

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why? I adore Owen and his two enemies/LIs, Aurum and the Scarred Man. Explaining why is hard, but they and their chemistry just make me happy. There's also Locke and Nora, who are dear to my heart - I think some people I've talked about this with like Locke a little too much, but I don't blame them. For Farewell Vesperos in particular, GOD, I am loving how Lawrence Rhyne is shaping up. He's such a charming fuck.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share? Kind of a confusing question. But uh, I've been told [combining the comments of different people] that Farewell Vesperos reads like Jane Eyre with an Agatha Christie type plot, so if you like either of that, you might like Farewell Vesperos. People who like darker fiction - hell, maybe even dark romance specifically! - might enjoy the dynamics between Owen and his two LIs. We'll see how that shapes up though.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP? Settling on the plot. This is the third edition of this story I'm writing and if it evolves on me again I might just scrap the whole fucking thing.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! Not at this point, but the vampires in it can turn into animals. The Scarred Man in particular can become a raven.

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.) There are trains, powered by crystals, a la Victorian steam trains. Most people get around with the draconics that humans have allied with, those being small dragons that cooperate with humans for their own reasons. They function like horses, except some of them can fly.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now? Right now, I'm trying to figure out the villain's motivations. I have a terrible habit of imagining awesome things happening and then going 'but wait - I know this character would do this, but why?' Kind of annoying at this point.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in? Well, there's the murder mystery! Lost heirs, arranged marriages, malicious vampires with dreams of conquest, wicked vampire hunters led by callous royalty who will do whatever ruthlessness needed protect humanity, enemies to lovers extreme slow burn [I'm talking over several books], spooky Victorian houses, lots of racially diverse characters, a transmasc protagonist navigating a society with specific gender roles for trans people... And just. Gothic fantasy in general.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP? I don't expect to get a lot of money writing this lmao, but I'm not writing it just for the money. I'm writing it because I know there's guys like me out there who want and need to see themselves as wanted - both as men, and as romantic and sexual partners. I want transmascs like me to feel desired. And I want people that aren't transmasc to really get that we are desirable, and attractive, as any other person. Ultimately though? I just hope people enjoy reading the damn thing and don't rip it to shreds over some stupid plot hole I missed pffft

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #runner owen series