#but setting the groundwork is always fun

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Plus Baby Makes Three {One-Shot}**

Title: Plus Baby Makes Three {One-Shot} **

Lewis Hamilton x GF Reader

Words: 5.8k

Warning: Mild Angst, Fluff, Fun & Games, NSFW, Mild Breeding Kink, Preggo talk, Preggo Prank, Preggo Fic, Crude Language, Dirty Talk

Summary: It was supposed to be a retaliation prank. A simple, easy prank to get back at Lewis for the one he’d pulled on you months before. You didn’t expect it to turn out like this.

As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Your entire relationship with Lewis had been a never-ending frat party. You enjoyed the same pastimes, including video games, nature, traveling, and pranks.

Hell, your relationship had started on a prank you'd done to your friends pretending to be in the middle of getting it in when they walked in. Everyone's reactions were the same "finally". You both were speechless as they all confessed they knew it was a matter of time before you saw the sparks and finally did something about it.

After admitting it was all a prank you were alone later that night when your first kiss happened. That torpedoed into your first night together. Hence beginning a beautiful, fun, and stress-free relationship

Now 3 years later, things were still going strong. You pranked each other often, a few of those pranks playing out through social media.

Everyone loved your relationship even the diehard Lewis thirsters who wanted him for themselves. They saw how happy he was with you and how unproblematic you were and fell in line to support you.

It had been a while since you pranked him and you could tell he'd lowered his guard. You’d spent weeks laying the groundwork. Weeks dropping hints and playing up faux symptoms and your period symptoms just to make this an easy sell.

You decided this would be a perfect thing to record so set up your filming equipment that you used for your gaming streams and makeup vlogs then got yourself ready.

"You are evil for this."

Snorting, you dropped onto your back and cackled.

"It’s not that bad."

"Not that bad? Y/N he is going to flip. I just don’t know what, a table or himself."

You laughed some more. Your best friend, Zoe was right. It was really 50/50 how this would go. You suspected it would be on the flipping-a-table side though. You hesitated momentarily, wondering if you should reformulate and try again. However, within seconds you committed.

You attached the ultrasound picture that you'd gotten from a lesser-known pregnancy website and edited with an arrow pointing to the blip of an embryo. You’d inserted a few words onto the picture.

"Little Hamilton says hello and can’t wait to meet you guys".

After scanning the picture again for typos and to make sure it all looked good, you started on your caption.

"What are you going to write?"

"Short and sweet right? Anything extra will be suspicious. Let's see. Ummm...ooh I know."

You began and read it aloud as you typed.

"I wanted you guys to find out at the same time as @lewishamilton. Omgg guys 🥺. I am so excited.🤗 Thank you @lewishamilton for this incredible gift. I love you more than words can say and am so happy and honored to be on this journey with you. Can't wait to meet you baby Hamilton. You are already loved so much.❤️🤰🏽👶🏽🍼 #babyhamilton2024 #surprisewerepregnant #bunintheoven

#babybyhamilton

#heshotupmyclub

#sunsoutbutthisbunisstillcooking #filledwithlove #coming2024

"Oh my god. The world is going to lose their shit," Zoe said.

"The world? He's gonna lose his shit. And---posted."

You turned your notification sound all the way up then placed your phone beside you and picked up the TV remote.

"Ready? Let’s see how far we get."

You pressed play on the movie you guys had selected on Prime and settled in. Before the movie had even gotten past the black screen, your notifications went blaring one after the other at rapid fire.

"Holy shit, your bestie squealed.

By the time the opening credits showed up, your phone began chiming with texts.

"Oh my god, barely 2 minutes. Is it Lewis?"

You looked while being very careful not to go into the messages. You wanted to play this very calm, cool, and collected. Sure enough, there was Lewis' name with the circled number indicating how many unread messages remained, increasing with each second.

"Oh my god. He is flipping out I bet."

You put it down and cackled. It was no use playing the movie because with the rapid-fire sounds from your phone, it would be impossible to pay attention. You didn’t click into Lewis' messages and instead read what showed up in the preview.

MSG Lewis: Why aren’t you answering your texts? Baby? You just posted that no way you walked away from your phone. Are you okay?

You snorted then went into IG to look at your post. It already was well into the hundred thousands of likes. The 4th comment, Lewis', had you pinching your lips.

"@y/nthaunicorn what?! This isn’t the kind of thing you post on social before telling me.

You giggled and continued reading the comments replying to him with congratulations and you’re going to be an amazing dad. The number of #mercedesbaby and #babygoatcoming hashtags only made you roll more.

The man was going to learn today that his last prank was too far. He'd canceled your appointment with your OBGYN and had one of your friends pretend to be you to make your appointment as a pre-pregnancy appointment with the intention to conceive.

Lo' and behold, when you’d gone to the appointment you were confused why your doctor was going over your estrogen and progesterone levels and checking the placement of your uterus. When she mentioned that you were in good health and should have no problems conceiving, you nearly passed out.

You tried to tell her you had no intentions of planning a pregnancy but she took it as you getting cold feet to which she then spent a lot of time trying to soothe your “fears”. When you went home with prenatal vitamins and a calendar on your best days for conception Lewis played along saying he was on board if you really wanted a baby.

He was so supportive about it that he freaked you out. He kept the ruse going so long that while you made love that night his whole dirty talk was about putting a baby in you. It was a slight turn on which shocked you because babies weren’t a topic you'd spent a lot of time talking about. For the most part, it took you off guard.

The following morning over breakfast was when he came clean. The way he cackled and ran around the house clearly pleased with himself was so over the top that you silently vowed revenge. You would make him rue the day.

Today was his retribution.

Your phone rang and Lewis' name appeared on your screen. You chortled and stared at the camera as it rang out. The man it feels good to be a gangster sound played in your head while your face evilly smirked. Seconds later, a message from him came in.

MSG Lewis: Why aren’t you answering your phone?

MSG Lewis: Are you okay?

MSG Lewis: Is this real? Are you being for real?

MSG Lewis: Did your IG get hacked?

MSG Lewis: Y/N!

Another call came in and again it was him. Zoe laughed loudly as she wiggled her legs in the air.

"He is losing his shit!”

MSG Lewis: Y/N. Jesus Christ. You're killing me. Pick up the phone baby.

You snorted. He was realizing assertiveness was not going to win. Now he was trying sugar.

MSG Lewis: Sweetheart. Are you pregnant? Is that why you've been sick lately?

MSG Lewis: Why you've been feeling so bloated?

MSG Lewis: Your boobs!😮 Oh shit. Why aren’t you answering?🥴

His texts came in one after the other each one more and more panicked. You just sat back and let him make his descent.

Placing another guac and salsa dipped chip into your mouth, you read the previews of his messages.

MSG Lewis: A baby? Our baby. Oh my god.😳

Your phone rang again, and again you let it ring out. A few minutes later, you got the notification of a voicemail. Once you hit play on the message, his voice came in and you and your bestie listened in.

"Y/N, I don’t know why you’re not picking up and it’s freaking me out a little. You know how I feel when I can't reach you, especially after what happened that last time.”

At that, you perked up because he’d nearly had a panic attack the last time he couldn’t reach you and it was because some paps were chasing you in your car nearly making you crash. He’d had to show up at the police station dropping everything. The pause in the message made you get ready to swipe to your phone app, but then he continued.

“I thought about it for a while and figured maybe you’re afraid to talk to me. Maybe you’re scared that I’m going to be angry or disappointed by the news. Maybe you think I’ll tell you to terminate or that I'm not ready. I thought about it and I wish I was there with you right now instead of halfway across the fucking world. Fuck.”

His sighed in a hefty huff.

“I wish I could hug you and hold your hand and tell you while looking into your eyes that it's going to be okay and that I’m not angry. I’m not disappointed.”

Your brows rose. He wasn’t, you questioned.

“I’m surprised, yes. So fucking surprised. I didn’t think this would happen and never really thought about the possibility of it happening which is so stupid because we don't use condoms. Like at all. I’m shooting your club up every day, multiple times a day. Why wouldn’t it be possible?”

You pinched your lips as your friend gave you a look that said she wasn’t surprised how y’all got down. You rubbed your brow to avoid her side-eye. It wasn’t that you were ashamed. You weren’t it was just embarrassing. You took a few sips from your cherry limeade and continued listening.

“Uggh, I’m rambling. I'm not mad and I wish you’d pick up the phone and let me tell you that plus how much I love you and want this."

A spray of cherry limeade shot from your mouth through the air, "What!!”

You bolted up in shock with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"A baby. Our baby. A piece of you and me. We didn't plan this, but we've been given this soul for a reason, and I am going to welcome and love them with everything I have. I’m going to be there 100 percent. You’re not in this alone, you have me. Call me, please. I love you so much."

Your eyes were wide. Had you heard him right? Was he actually happy about this? Your head snapped to your friend who was also wide-eyed.

“Well shit, plot twist!”

“Was he--.”

“Happy? Yep.”

“Did he say--.”

“He wanted this? Oh yeah.”

You went over the message in your head again.

“Was he--.”

“The sweetest and cutest about it? Yes. Oh my god, Y/N.”

You played the message again and listened to it in its entirety. You didn’t stop at once, or twice. You listened over 5 times but each time you were still flabbergasted by his words.

“Oh my god.”

“Well look on the bright side—he’d never be one of those asshole deadbeat celebs trying to make their girl get rid of a baby they helped create.”

“Why does he want this? Why isn’t he mad? We haven’t really talked about kids. This is so out the blue?”

“You want him to be mad?”

You paused and thought about it. Any other answer besides no was ridiculous. This was an ideal reaction if the situation was real. This was how every man should react to an unplanned pregnancy. He was being major goals right now and it made your heart swell with love and pride.

Your notifications went off some more and you checked them to find some of his fellow F1 drivers commenting about the news. They all were sweet and thoughtful, which made you think again about this prank.

“Shit. How do I tell him it was a prank now?”

Zoe laughed loudly. “I suggest starting with apology head then let him shoot your club up for real and voila baby.”

You smacked her across her stomach while kissing your teeth.

“Be for real.”

“I’m being as for real as your man is.”

A text notification came in then.

MSG Lewis: The jet will be landing in a few hours. It’s not planned but come see me this weekend. I really want to be close to you right now.

“Oh my god.”

Your friend laughed again as she teased you about your prank gone completely wrong.

~~~~~~~~

Just as he’d said, Lewis’ jet arrived 4 hours after he’d texted. The call from the pilot came at nearly midnight. You were packed and ready for the weekend with a possible week’s extension, but you were also still debating how you were going to make this right. He thought he was going to be a father and that prospect had him in his feelings. You felt horrible.

MSG Lewis: Did the pilot call?

You’d replied to his text after the message about spending the weekend with him because you knew staying quiet longer would make him more anxious. You were messed up, but you weren’t cruel.

MSG: Yeah. Guess I’ll see you in a few.

MSG Lewis: Don’t be scared. Everything’s going to be all right. I love you.

“Uugh. I’m an asshole,” you said, hanging your head.

The chauffeured car took 40 minutes to get to the airfield and the whole time you tried to come up with a way to easily let him down. If he had been angry you would have been obnoxious with it and laughed in his face, but seeing how sweet he was about it there was no way you could now.

Of course, the flight to Barcelona didn’t take long. The pilot even had the audacity to cut what was a 2-hour and 20-minute flight to just 2 hours flat. The nerve! The whole flight your nerves toiled which made your stomach uneasy. Nothing helped, not ginger ale, 7-up, Sprite, cranberry juice, tea, nor sports drinks. You suspected it was your anxiety manifesting in an upset stomach, so you didn’t stress the flight attendant with helping ease it.

Now it was 3am Barcelona time and you were steadily approaching the penthouse that Lewis was staying in. The closer you got the more nervous you got. When the car began to slow down in front of a cute building with adorable Verona-style balconies you groaned. It was time to face the music. The driver unloaded your bags and helped you inside to the door. As he was about to ring the bell you stopped him and told him you could take it from there.

Once you were alone in front of the door you took a few breaths and tried to get control over your nerves. Before you could ring the bell though, the door opened and there stood Lewis in a white sleeveless T-shirt and grey sweat shorts. Instantly you pouted and waited for him to speak first.

“C’mere,” Lewis said holding open his arms for you.

Without hesitation you rushed into his arms and allowed him to hold you.

“It’s okay,” he whispered as he stepped back into the penthouse taking you with him.

He lifted you off your feet and carried you inside. When he placed you down on a soft couch, he kissed your forehead.

“I’ll be right back.”

Lewis disappeared for a few minutes. You assumed he was bringing in your luggage and rolling them into the bedroom. By the time he came back, you still had no idea what to say. He kneeled in front of you and lifted your chin.

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

Your stomach churned then and you clasped your hands over your mouth while gagging.

“What’s wrong?”

You pointed to your throat, and he got it instantly. Lewis rushed through the halls showing you to the bathroom. Dropping to your knees, you allowed every drink you’d consumed on the flight to empty into the toilet. As you retched Lewis dipped beside you and rubbed your back like the perfectly sweet man he was. It only intensified your “you ain’t shit” feeling and you began crying.

“What? What’s wrong? It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No baby. Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s a baby, a blessing. Not the end of the world.”

You cried more and repeated your sorries. It was all you could get out. You remained on your knees in front of the toilet vomiting with Lewis rubbing your back and whispering soft words to you promising everything would be just fine. After, he got you in the tub and washed your body for you as you relaxed against him. He rubbed every knot out of your muscle, massaged every tension from your scalp, while making your skin gleam and glow.

When he got you in bed he topped it all off with a body massage from head to toe. You didn’t deserve it at all. When you laid on his chest, you tried to find the words.

“Lewis,” you began with a meek voice.

“Princess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I don’t know when along the line of our relationship you got the impression that I was some asshole who would be angry about something like that. I’m not,” he assured.

“You’re not an asshole. I’m the asshole.”

Lewis rolled over to peer into your eyes. “What?”

“How? Why?”

“I—I lied,” you quietly finished.

“Lied? About what?”

“The baby.”

You watched worry and fear wash over his face.

“What do you mean?”

“It—it was supposed to be a prank.”

Lewis rushed a breath out then dropped on his back to stare at the ceiling.

“It was supposed to be payback for your last prank on me with my OB appointment. I didn’t expect you to take it like this. I thought you’d be mad and freak out a little. I didn’t think that you—want it.”

He was so quiet and so unreadable right now you worried he was really hurt.

“I’m sorry baby. I feel like shit now. I didn’t mean to--.”

“So you’re not pregnant.”

“No,” you quietly replied.

Lewis scoffed, covered his face. “Wow.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Wow. Wow. Wow. I was really—I truly—jeez.”

He sat up and stared out into the darkness. You didn’t know how to make this better. You could sense his disappointment, sense his hurt that it wasn’t real. You were speechless and so confused about how long he’d been secretly wanting a baby. Right now didn’t feel like the right time to inquire though.

“Okay. You got me.”

You leaned forward to study his face. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. You got me. I really thought you were pregnant, especially with the way you’ve been acting the last few weeks. Ha! Good one.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Angry that you had the balls to prank me like this or angry that you’re not pregnant?”

You thought about it for a quick minute. “Both.”

Even he looked to think about it. “I’m not angry about the prank. I'd been wondering what you’d do to get me back, but I let my guard down. It was a good prank, ballsy, especially putting it on social but it was good,” he explained.

“And the other?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m angry you’re not pregnant. I’m—disappointed. I should be relieved because as you know our lives right now are chaotic. You with your business, me, and F1. Adding a baby in now would be nuts.”

You heard a but. “But?”

Lewis chewed the inside of his mouth for a few moments then he laid back down. “But the longer I sat with it and thought about what it meant the more I wanted it. I wasn’t mad, or freaking out for the most part, I was relieved it was with you.”

Your heart melted. You rolled on top of him and splayed yourself across his chest. “I’m sorry baby.”

Lewis wrapped his arms around you and traced his fingertips up and down your bare spine.

“How do you feel about a baby—our baby?”

You thought about it for a few moments dividing points into pro and con columns in your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. Our lives are hectic right now. You just signed a contract extension with Mercedes which means more racing, more time away from home. My lingerie line has been blowing up and I just opened a second store location. Things will only get more and more hectic.”

“I want us both to be present,” Lewis added.

“Yeah.”

A contemplative silence filled the room. Both of you were lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you want to have a baby with me, though?”

Your head popped up meeting Lewis’ eyes.

“Only you. No one else.”

A smile slowly spread across Lewis’ lips.

“Only you, no one else,” he repeated.

You kissed him gently and that kiss intensified within seconds. Soon your hands were pushing down Lewis’ shorts with urgency needing to get closer. You were already bare for him, but he needed to catch up. Once his shorts were rumpled at the foot of the bed, you straddled his hips and lowered yourself on his ready and waiting member.

Both of you sighed out in unison relishing the pleasure you only found in each other. As you slowly rocked back and forth on him, Lewis’ hands gripped your hips helping you move. Bit by bit he picked up the pace taking full control of the way your body moved. Back and forth, round and round, up and down.

When you began bouncing on him, Lewis abandoned your hips to cup your breasts. His moans filled the room as his eyes drank in every inch of you. In no time, you felt your orgasm creep up on you. Lewis flipped you onto your back, placed your ankle on his shoulder then took over. That was the final push to send you over the edge.

“Fuuuuck!”

“Mmm!”

Lewis brought your other leg to join the first then held you off the bed as he flicked his hips forward with such force the bed jerked giving the craftmanship a run for its money.

“Yes, baby. Right there!”

“Yeah right there? Like this?”

He slowed his moves, then pulled out fully only to slam his hips into you filling you to capacity. Every time he did it you yelped unable to control yourself.

“Like that?”

“Yes!”

“Mmm, I’m going to fill this sweet little pussy up. You’re gonna be so fucking full of me you can’t walk.”

Lewis ground his hips against you making you feel how impossibly deep he was. Instinctively, you pressed against his abs hoping to keep him at bay, however, he wasn’t having it. Lewis dropped your legs, hovered over you then began rocking into you in the most artful way. His body rocked, ebbed, flowed, rolled, and torpedoed you into yet another release.

As you clenched around him, Lewis groaned.

“So fucking tight. You loving this dick baby?”

“Yes, I love your dick baby. Fuck me.”

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum, you’re so beautiful when you take this dick.”

You cupped your breasts, holding them out like ripe fruit for him. Lewis dipped down and bit down on your nipple making you wetter than ever.

“Fuuuuuck!”

Lewis lowered his lips to your ear as he fucked into you. “You’d look so fucking pretty with my baby in you. Makes me want to fill this tight cunt up.”

“Fill me, baby. I want your hot cum, I want it now," you whined.

Lewis locked eyes with you just as his hand wrapped around your throat. Rolling your eyes to the back of your head, you let him use you as he wanted.

“You want me to cum deep in this pretty pussy?”

Yes!”

“You’re gonna keep every fucking drop, right where I put it.”

“Fuck Lewis, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum with me princess.”

His thrusts sped until you were seeing stars and rainbows. It was an impossibility, but it was what you saw. Your moans matched, desires synced and desperation for one another took over. Lewis flicked his hips forward then came so hard and so deep his grunts were all you heard as he released stream after stream. Your body broke out into shivers at the thought of him intentionally trying to knock you up.

Lewis pulled back and dropped his attention between your legs. Slowly he pulled out only to shove himself back inside. It was like he was trying to keep every single drop of himself inside of your body.

“Fuck baby, this pussy looks so good with me dripping out.”

“How good?”

“So good I’m gonna fill you again.”

With that, Lewis crashed his lips to yours and in seconds round two had begun. You felt sorry for him tomorrow because he would be useless with how little sleep he would have gotten. He didn’t seem bothered in the least though. His only thought was fucking you into oblivion until he’d planted a seed.

The next afternoon, you woke alone with a note on Lewis’ pillow.

“See you on the paddock. Love you.”

You sat up and a sea of nausea filled you. Quickly you ran to the bathroom and heaved the contents of your stomach into the toilet. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand what was going on. You’d confessed about the prank you weren’t anxious anymore. Why were you sick? Could it have been jet lag? You’d never experienced nausea with jet lag before and the flight was only 2 hours long. As you went through the possibilities, you continued to heave.

After 20 or so minutes, you got back into bed with your phone and began googling reasons for nausea when first waking. You’d barely put your head on the pillow before the first result popped up. The result had you bolting upward with wide eyes.

“No fucking way.”

You kept scrolling but your mind still lingered on the first result. You thought back over the last weeks to a month trying to debunk it. You’d only made it a few seconds before your eyes widened even more. You swiped open your love tracker and scanned through the last few weeks. There were so many red colored in boxes, that signified every day you’d been intimate, throughout the month you began to panic.

“No way. Right?”

You sprang out of bed and hurried to get dressed. As you did, you tried to find the closest drugstore. In record time you found yourself in the back of the chauffeured car that Lewis had left behind for you to get to the racing grounds. As the car zipped through traffic, your brain was going almost as fast as a Mercedes race car. You were afraid to put your hat in any basket because you just didn't know what was going on.

With your dark sunglasses on and one of Lewis’ bucket hats tipped low, you dipped inside the store and did a once around the store to be sure no one had recognized or noticed you. You then walked in the general vicinity of where those items rested. If you were a NASCAR driver and this was a pit stop, you would have been the fastest back on the track. In less than 5 minutes you were back in the car and headed back to the penthouse.

Soon you sat in the bathroom at the edge of the huge porcelain tub staring at the 14 boxes of pregnancy tests. You couldn't decide on which one, so you bought 2 of every brand, 5 from brands you knew and the other 2 from unheard-of probably local brands. With a large juiced vegetable and fruit blend in hand, you attempted to finish it off. Since you'd returned another bout of nausea hit you that took nearly 30 minutes to pass.

Right now you were stalling. You had to pee so you could easily take them but it was the thought that crippled you. Right now the unknown felt like a comforting place to be. In 10 or so minutes you would either be disappointed or happy. You were in Lewis' shoes in reverse.

You sighed, guzzled the rest of the juice, then slammed it on the sink counter as a wave of determination filled you.

“Okay, Okay, okay. I got this. I got this. I got this!”

You grabbed the disposable mouthwash cup then tackled it head-on. Once you’d finished and ripped open every bod, you dripped the tips into the cup and laid them all out on the counter. You’d told yourself to sit right back on the edge of the tub, but your legs would not obey. So, you paced the room. Back and forth, back, and forth, round and round, corner to corner, wall to wall.

By the time your phone went off indicating time was up, you were perched on the porcelain tub staring out to nothing thinking of everything. You remained there for a minute more trying to control your breathing then you stood and approached the mess of tests on the counter in organized chaos.

Hyping yourself, you took the first up and stared at the window. Your breath hitched and you moved to take another test up. Glancing at it, you were met with the same answer. You sifted through the tests, taking them up, looking at the results, and moving to the next. You checked once, then twice and every single one of them mirrored back one collective and cohesive—positive.

“Plot fucking twist,” you said.

Your phone sounded making you open your messages to see Lewis’ name.

MSG Lewis: Feeling better?

You scoffed. His timing was impeccable. You took another calming breath before you replied.

MSG: Not much but I’m okay.

MSG Lewis: Still throwing up?

MSG: Here and there.

MSG Lewis: You can stay in bed today. I’ll see you after.

MSG: Not a chance. I’ll be there. Wouldn’t want to miss your P1.

MSG Lewis: Don’t push yourself.

MSG: Says the man who only got like an hour of sleep because he kept pushing for round after round.

MSG Lewis: Wasn’t much pushing needed. You know I can go for days.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was always cocky; it didn’t matter about what. You stepped back and took a picture of all the tests making sure a few showed the results then you began getting yourself ready.

~~~~~~~

By the time you got to the racing grounds, it was packed. With two of Lewis’ guards flanking your left and right, you walked through saying hello to the drivers, waving at faces you knew, and taking some footage for your socials. You even had some approach you to congratulate you on the pregnancy. It tripped you up for a second because you’d just found out but then you remembered your prank that had gone wrong and was not right back on track. Every time someone came up and said it you couldn’t help but giggle. It was all so ironic.

Once you made it to Mercedes, the crew saw you first. They began clapping and as you approached. When you were close enough many of them patted you on the back as they expressed their happiness over the news.

“Our first Mercedes driver baby. Congratulations.”

“Uh, thank—you.”

You smiled and tipped your head at the others who were smiling from ear to ear. Toto approached with a grin.

“Such great news, Y/N. You and Lewis are going to be amazing parents. You can count on Suzie and me up for babysitting.”

You nervouisly giggled. “I think we’ll hold you to that.”

“Eh-em.”

To the left Lewis approached with his brow crooked.

“There he is, the soon to be dad.”

He looked evidently uncomfortable as he stood beside you.

“About that," Lewis began.

“He’s going to be such an amazing dad,” you said while staring at him.

The two of you stood there staring at one another. You in complete love and adoration of him, and he in utter confusion. Gradually everyone took the hint and went back to what they were doing before you got there.

“What’re—what’re you doing? Shouldn’t you be telling them it was all a prank?”

“Maybe that’s how it started but—we’re past that now.”

“What do you mean?”

You laced your fingers with his then smiled.

“I—I’m pregnant.”

Lewis looked even more confused.

“What? Is this about last night? I’m sure it’s too soon to be--."

You snorted as you rolled your eyes. “Seriously?”

“What? You said it wasn’t real.”

“It wasn’t, not then. Or maybe it was but I didn’t know. You didn’t put a baby in me last night. There was already one in me. I got sick again this morning and that made me look back into some things on my calendars which had me taking 14 pregnancy tests and they are all positive.”

Lewis’s eyes widened.

“What?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m pregnant.”

“For real, for real?”

“So for real for real.”

Lewis looked down to your stomach area, then to your face. He smiled before he lifted you into the air. You laughed as he spun you around. Your combined laughter brought the attention of nearly everyone around you.

“Oh my god. We’re having a baby?”

He put you down then peered into your eyes. “Yep.”

He snorted then laughed heartily. “What a fucking plot twist.”

“Right! oh my god.”

The two of you cackled together before he kissed you, not caring who was watching. When his hand cupped your backside you squealed.

“Behave.”

“Not a chance. I can’t believe I put a baby in you.”

“Me neither.”

“Are you happy?”

You smiled and nodded. “Very.”

The way he smiled back at you made your heart swell. You were sure you looked like fools in love giggling with each other like idiots but neither of you cared. Lewis cupped your cheek and then softly caressed your skin.

“You and me.”

You took his other hand and put it on your stomach.

“Plus baby makes three. And with Roscoe--.”

“Makes a home,” Lewis finished.

A stray tear rolled down your cheek, but Lewis’ thumb flicked it away then kissed the spot it once laid.

The news must have been what he needed because a few hours later he stood on that podium claiming that P1. You beamed at him while you tenderly held your nonexistent bump, feeling closer to him than ever before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chaneajoyyy @caramara3 @valkryienymph @babyflowa07 @est1887 @halfrican-heat @mauvecherie-writes @nunya7394 @lovebittenbyevans @gardenwonders2 @sweetlikecoffy @dillie60 @ olabelle757 @ophiaedits @kenequa @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart @keytodespair @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @ak329 @shar74nett @youremysuperstar @whore-like-behaviour

@alookintohersoul @asiaaisa77 @jd-now-jq @naturalthrone22      @mrsbarnes-rogers @beyourownkindofbeautiful @beccacupcakesxo @toni9 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison00 @queenoftheworldisdead @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @richonne4life @coffeebooksandfandom @siempremamita @raveviolet @dumbchick  @amennariee @briellableu @leebabe444 @31miw-inkpsycho

@rororo06 @disaster-rose @bugngiz @yourwonderbelle @queenbetter @melaninhawtie @bekindbecoolbeyou​ @heartfullofgolden @idkiwantchocolatee @missuniee @avngrsfangirl @a-highly-opinionated-mess @19jammmy ​@nunya7394 @eltima02 @motheroffae @luckydiorxoxo

@majx00 @bbhyuneee @queenanababy @ravenqueen27 @multi-fandom5 @xsweetdellzx @bqueensweet @misswolff @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @blveeeeeee @majx00 @rowansshit @tian-monique

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #plus baby makes three one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton blurb

[blueskittlesart]

Question abt drawing: been trying to attempt learning how to draw forever but I always have trouble getting over the obstacle of having to learn/study things like anatomy and shading, which then causes me to stop drawing and have a harder time picking it back up. I know it's important for improving your art and yourself as an artist but I can't help but see it as tedious and overwhelming, especially the anatomy since it's more on the science side of things and science is not my thing lol. Do you have any advice on how to get over it or work thru it?

i think there's a couple facets to this question. firstly i'd recommend you consider what exactly your end goal is in learning how to draw: do you specifically want to be able to produce anatomically accurate figures and true-to-life shading, or do you just want to be able to make something for fun that looks good to you? one of the most helpful things I ever learned at art school was that accuracy doesn't matter if it looks good. 99% of my art isn't strictly anatomically accurate, and part of that is stylization, but even when i'm doing realistic figure drawings i like to lengthen limbs and exaggerate curves in order to make my drawings look better. So if your only real goal with art is to make something that looks good and enjoy the process, my first piece of advice would be to stop worrying so much about stuff like perfect accuracy! if you use references and keep pushing yourself, the skill and understanding you're looking for will come naturally with time. before I was ever classically trained, I got pretty far just by drawing my favorite characters in different poses and situations over and over again, and that experience laid the groundwork for when classical training did become available to me. Just because you're not necessarily doing serious figure studies doesn't mean you're not getting valuable practice--what it means is that you're having FUN while you're practicing, and having fun with your art is the most important thing!!!

Secondly, you mentioned anatomy being on the science side of things, which suggests to me that you may be looking in the wrong places when trying to do more serious anatomical study. if you look up 'anatomy' or anything similar on a web search engine, you're likely going to get a lot of very complex scientific illustrations. and while those aren't necessarily devoid of artistic value (I took a class all about scientific anatomy for artists last semester and it was GREAT) for a beginner who's just trying to learn how to make a body look like a body, they're not what you're looking for. what is going to be much more helpful for you are sites like line of action or quickposes. these sites are basically repositories of figure drawing images, and you can set them to automatically switch to a new image after a certain interval of time. if you really, desperately want to improve your anatomy specifically, what I recommend is going to one of these sites, setting it to the shortest interval possible, and trying to copy the pose as closely as you can before time is up. this might sound crazy, since the shortest interval is usually somewhere between 30-60 seconds, which obviously isn't enough to get much down. but what this will do is force you to look at how these models' bodies are constructed and translate it onto the page quickly and without overthinking it. be warned, your first maybe hundred of these are going to look like shit. but if you do this enough, you're eventually going to gain an intrinsic sense for 1. how a body works and 2. the easiest way for you personally to construct a body when drawing it. even without knowing the scientific names and anatomical rules, you're going to get a FEEL for how things work, which is much more important and useful to you as a character artist.

Finally, i think the most important thing to remember is that no art is bad art, even if you're not satisfied with the end product. when you're first starting out as an artist, you're going to make things that don't look right and you're going to be frustrated with yourself because of it. i vividly remember crying over a sketchbook at maybe age 11 or 12 because I was so upset i couldn't put exactly what was in my head on the page. Skill comes with time and practice and that is a frustrating fact of life, but no time spent doing something you enjoy and are passionate about is wasted. It might look bad now but you are laying the groundwork for your future success, and someday you're probably going to look back on your past work and say "I can't believe I thought this looked bad back then. for my age and my skill level i was doing AMAZING." And as previously mentioned, it's a lot less discouraging when something looks bad if you had fun making it, so try to have FUN with your art. draw things you enjoy and are passionate about and don't worry if it looks bad. focus on the experience, the skill will come in time. you've got this!!

#i've had this account since i was 15 years old. you can literally go back and see my ass did NOT know what i was doing #but i was having fun and the weird stuff that i was trying that maybe didn't always look right was what laid the groundwork #for my current skills! #i know this advice is basically just 'practice' which is what everyone says but it's important to me that you know #that practice should be FUN too. practice isn't drawing boring shit over and over again before you get to draw the fun stuff #practice is drawing the fun stuff that is maybe a little out of your comfort zone and maybe it looks a little wonky but you did it #and you had fun doing it! and now you'll be a little more prepared to do it again in the future! #asks

[neversetyoufree]

Ok gang, so while I've talked a lot on here about VnC's recurring Vanitas painting allusion, I don't think I've ever actually talked in detail about my favorite example of that reference, so it's time to do the thing.

I am obsessed with the cover of the first volume, and I think you should be too. It's the perfect introduction of Vanitas as a man doomed to death, executed entirely through symbolism.

To start off, for those of you unfamiliar, a brief introduction to the concept of Vanitas art: Vanitas paintings are artistic reminders of the inevitability of death and the futility of all earthly pleasures. A Vanitas can technically be any form of art, but still life paintings are the most common variant by far.

Vanitas still life paintings were most commonly done in 16th and 17th century Europe. They use specific symbolism to evoke the images of death, the ever-ticking clock of time, and the transience/inevitable decay of the fine things in life. They often place images of the decadent and luxurious next to the rotten and dead in order to remind the viewer that death is always there waiting, no matter what pleasures you may have. This was, of course, a deeply Christian art movement. 16th and 17th century protestants were very invested in reminding themselves and others that pleasure (and even life itself) was futile and transient in the eyes of death and god.

I promise I'm going to relate this art history lesson back to Vnc soon.

The most common symbols in Vanitas paintings include, among others, books, maps, and instruments (symbols of worldly knowledge); jewelry and gold (symbols of wealth and power); bones, especially skulls (symbols of death); fruits and flowers (luxuries subject to quick decay); and clocks, hourglasses, and burning candles (symbols of the passage of time).

Fun fact: Mochijun once did a Gangan Joker cover featuring Vanitas and Jeanne hooking up in front of a Vanitas still life.

If you think about it, the presence of the still life there kind of turns this cover into a Vanitas painting in its own right, but that's a deep dive for another day. In the meantime, let's look again at the volume 1 cover:

The frame that Vanitas is sitting in here is covered in images from Vanitas paintings. In particular, it very heavily features bones and flowers, which are two of the most common Vanitas symbols. Bones are the very direct reminders of death, especially skulls, and flowers are something beautiful and pleasant that decays quickly.

The frame also includes a crown (luxury and wealth made meaningless by the presence of death),

butterflies (living things that are beautiful but incredibly fragile and brief),

and what I'm fairly sure are pomegranates (fruit as another example of luxury subject to decay).

Plus, though you can't see it on the front cover itself, the exact same frame is replicated for volume 1's inner cover illustration, and guess what's on the bottom under Vanitas's leg.

It's an hourglass! The symbol of time's eternal running out, and one that is very deeply tied to Vanitas as a character.

Beyond the fact that these images are commonly found in Vanitas paintings, almost all of them have further significance and meaning. The traditional uses of the flowers featured are very relevant, pomegranates have the Persephone myth, butterflies have their own established symbolism in vnc, and the way that crown is bolted onto the center skull is also important. However, each of those could be a meta post in their own right, and this post is already long enough, so for now I'm going to focus on the simple fact that these are Vanitas images.

Because the thing is, the inclusion of Vanitas painting imagery in this cover is really just what sets the groundwork for my favorite part of it. By introducing the idea of Vanitas paintings via these images, then putting Vanitas the character inside a picture frame, Mochijun suggests that Vani himself *is* a piece of Vanitas art.

Every volume cover features a version of this frame motif, but volume 1 is the only one in which the featured character is within the frame in this way. Vanitas is perched on it and almost entirely contained, as though he's coming from within it, and the background suggests much the same thing. With the stark white of everything outside of the frame, it doesn't look like an empty frame that you can see through to the other side of (the way Noé looks on the volume 3 cover). It looks like volume 1's Vani has climbed out of a painting.

Thus, with the symbols decorating the frame putting Vanitas paintings in our minds and Vani himself held within the frame, he becomes a piece of Vanitas art, and that fits the story perfectly. Vanitas the man is a walking, talking Vanitas. A human reminder of death. And that's why he's called that.

I've talked before about how I suspect other vampires called Luna "Vanitas" because they served as a living, breathing reminder of futility and death for crimson vamps, and Vanitas took his name from them. So on an in-universe level, it makes sense for Vanitas to be called that because he has taken on the role of "death symbol to crimson vamps." But even more interestingly than that, on a more metal level, his whole life is eventually going to become a reminder of death and futility for those close to him.

The story of Vnc is the story of Noé and Vanitas's relationship. It's Noé's memoir of their time together and his case study of Vanitas as a man. They've only grown closer and more important to each other as the story has progressed, and I doubt that's going to change. Vanitas is a great source of joy and color in Noé's life.

Vanitas is also going to die at the end of the story. From the very first chapter, we have known that Vanitas's end is coming and that all of that joy and closeness is going to do nothing to stop his demise. And that is the futility of Earthly passion in the face of the inevitable creep of death. That is the reminder that no amount of joy or pleasure can avert the end of all things. That is the setup for a powerful reminder for Noé and the others at the end of the story. Death comes for us all and will render your pleasures moot, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Furthermore, Vani's inevitable end won't just serve as a Vanitas, a reminder of death, for the characters of Vnc. It also serves the same function for the audience. In fact, I'd argue that since Vnc is the case study of Vanitas (the character), and the character is a living (for now) Vanitas, Vnc itself functions as a piece of Vanitas art. It's Vanitases all the way down.

Vani's oncoming death at the end of the story carries the exact same lesson for the audience that it does the other characters he meets, and that's what makes Vnc a piece of Vanitas art. As a story, it's exciting and it's sexy. The art is a feast for the eyes, the settings lush and almost every character beautiful. And yet, the cold, painful reality of death waits inescapably at the end. What is that if not the manga equivalent of a painting of stunning finery with a skeletal hand lurking in the background?

And of course, it's not like Mochijun is a 17th century protestant. I don't think she's trying to teach her readers a lesson about the meaninglessness and vanity of earthly pursuits so that we'll devote ourselves to god. However, I've always read Vnc as a tragedy, and futility is a fundamental mechanic of many tragedies. All the pleasures Vani has experienced will be inevitably erased by death. All his relationships will be forever marked by one-sidedness and grief. And that's because his story is tragic, and no matter how much he heals from his traumas, he cannot take himself off the path toward death.

But it's not like every character in Vnc is sitting within the frames on their covers. And though Noé and the others will be marked by tragedy in the sense that they will suffer Vanitas's death, not every individual character arc in Vnc must necessarily be tragic.

This is the case study of one instance that encapsulates the ideas of a Vanitas. It is the story of Noé experiencing Vani the man and reacting to his death. It doesn't mean that futility and death are the only lessons that Noé learns through that experience. And though the central theme is bleak and heavy, the manga itself is about the beauty and pleasure experienced on the way to death as much as it is about the death itself.

The love and joy and sensuality is all tangled up with the death in Vnc, and neither can be extracted from the other. It is beautiful and fun and it is a piece of Vanitas art, and none of that is contradictory. You cannot have one without the other, and that means that death can never be escaped.

So on the cover of volume 1, Vanitas the man becomes a living piece of Vanitas art, sitting within a frame that is covered in Vanitas art, within a manga that is in itself a piece of Vanitas art. And that's why it's my favorite illustration from this series.

#and that's also why vanitas the man is going to die #well not the only reason. but one of many #not change or die symbolically. but actually literally irreversibly die #and I. for one. am looking forward to it #vnc #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #english major hours #vanitas #vanitas my beloved #ID in alt text #this is one of those posts where I just kinda went into a fugue state for a while and came back to 1400 words #and now I am. So Tired

[harcove]

Hii could u write for billy x reader where reader is part of the hellfire club? Like she's a metalhead and plays dnd and stuff, i rlly can't see how billy would end up with someone like that

A/N: sorry this took a bit, I've been going btwn writing multiple things and ya aaaa I hope this is okay love! Honestly, I personally think Billy could find himself being with most anyone- it all depends!

Pairing: Billy x Hellfire!reader

Length: 2.3k

Warnings: nah, but I'll keep saying OOC Billy so no one tells me my characterization of him is wrong 🤡

(Not So) Polar Opposites

Billy hated having to be back at the school after hours; the sun had set and there were only a few cars in the lot besides his Camaro. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have been there.

Billy always picked you up Thursday nights from the school. It was Hellfire Club night, DnD night, the night where you wouldn't drive home with him from school because you were staying back to help prepare for the DnD campaign you were part of.

Hellfire Club wasn't something Billy gave a shit about. It was your thing, a thing that you'd been in before he even arrived in Hawkins. And sadly, it was something that dictated your social standing as being something of a 'freak.'

It didn't stop Billy Hargrove from setting his sights on you however.

Billy was at the top of the social hierarchy that engulfed Hawkins High. What he did, what he said, people ate it up. People like Carol and Tommy. Did they have things to say about you and the Hellfire Club when he showed an interest in you? Yeah. Did he give a fuck? No. And he was sure to let them know that their opinions in his life didn't matter. And to keep your name out of their mouths.

And by proxy, the Hellfire Clubs name. At least when he was around to hear it.

Sure, he didn't get it. He didn't get the whole deal with Dungeons and Dragons. Didn't get what the point of the game was and definitely didn't fucking get what the hell you wrote on those sheets of paper you'd sometimes work on at his house. 'Character sheets,' is what you'd say whenever he asked what the fuck they were.

It went right over his head.

But you enjoyed it. You had fun going to those DnD nights in the school, and enjoyed spending time with the members of Hellfire Club. You especially enjoyed it because your best friend, Eddie Munson, was the head of the club.

Billy knew Eddie Munson.

Not that he spoke to him in school; Billy rarely ever stayed at the school during lunch periods to see you at the table with the other Hellfire members, and he never had reason to just speak to them or him. Most of his time spent with you was outside of or after school.  Save for the fact Eddie was the drug dealer he dealt with. If he wanted weed, it was Eddie Munson he'd get it from.

So, they were on an even groundwork there.

No matter how bizarre it seemed to anyone else that Billy Hargrove was dating you, it didn't matter to him. He wasn't scared of losing his status as the top dog. The guy who scared others, who was the Keg King. He had worse things in his life to worry about. And perhaps, the fact that he didn't care so much is what kept him right where he was.

He liked it.

Where the two of you differed vastly in your free time activity (him enjoying going to a party, you enjoying the fantastical game of DnD) you also had similarities that bound you together as tight as your opposite interests.

You enjoyed metal music; Billy also enjoyed metal music. It was nice to find that he didn't need to change the radio station because you hated the loud music he wanted to play, because you wanted to hear it too. And aside from partying, Billy actually did enjoy simpler things, particularly sitting in his room on his bed reading something. It wasn't something people expected, but when had Billy ever been predictable? You happened to like a good book as well.

So as bizarre as the two of you may have seemed on the outside, you actually clicked quite well together- like two pieces of a puzzle.

But you were taking a real long time finishing up your session, and it grinded on Billy's gears. He just hated being in that school more than he actually had to, even if it was for you. He wasn't mad at you. Maybe mad at the school for even existing in front of him. And for DnD for cutting into time he could be pulling you close.

Fingers tapping on the wheel of his car, Billy let's out an annoyed sigh. Scorpians playing from his cars radio, he moves his body slightly, making the leather of the seat squeak. It's twenty minutes past when you usually finish your session and come outside.

Usually you're quick to come out and greet him. There have been times where you've run a little over time, but those times Billy wasn't as in much of a mood as he was then. And usually it didn't take you more than 10 minutes.

He'd just have to go in there and get you himself. That's what he concluded. He knew you sometimes lost sense of time especially when you were having a good time. It was like wrangling his sister sometimes; but he was pretty sure Max sometimes liked to conveniently "forget the time" because it would annoy him. You never did that.

At least, he was pretty sure you didn't.

With another heavy sigh, albeit this one sounded more annoyed than the last, Billy pulls the key out of the ignition shutting the his car off, stepping out with one feet heavy on the gravel taking a few moments before pulling the rest of his body out; like he's being forced against his will to do this.

No one could force him to do this. But that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to still feel a bit ticked off.

He knows the room you have your sessions in. It's a drama classroom, with a small stage (compared to an actual stage) in a bigger than average classroom. It didn't have a bunch of chairs and desks because, well, it was a drama room. Most of the activities in their didn't require students to sit for an hour.

So it isn't hard for him to reach it in a matter of minutes. The door is slightly ajar and he can hear the lot of you inside, laughing and shouting.

"I can't believe you rolled that at the end," he recognized your voice, it sounded like you were on the edge of a laugh, one of happiness and disbelief, "like, seriously."

"What can I say, but you're welcome for saving the day."

Billy doesn't recognize the voice fully, he doesn't even really care to figure it out; he never spoke to any of the Hellfire members aside from you and and Eddie Munson (barely).

Instead, Billy chooses to wait a few moments as you laugh, continuing your banter. He's not going to knock on the slighy ajar door, that's stupid. So after a few more moments, he's pushing against the door to open it fully. It creaks when he does, announcing him before his own presence is noticed.

"Billy!" You notice him first, before anyone else really does. You always notice him, "what are you doing here?"

In your hands is one of his jean jackets, one you borrowed that morning; the fall weather had been more bitter than you realized that morning. He took it off and gave it to you with the most dramatic eyeroll he could muster. You rush towards him. Being close is all you want.

Billy looks at you, then looks at the watch on his wrist, as if he was really reading it; it was more for the dramatics.

"Just thought I'd see if the school was doing good tonight, y'know?" He's being sarcastic clearly, "I just... Love it here."

You turn your head to look at the clock in the room, noting the time; twenty minutes past when you were supposed to meet him outside.

Awkwardly, you wince and shoot him an apologetic look, smiling at him. You can see it in his eyes; he's not actually too angry with you.

He finds it hard to look at you, happy, enjoying yourself and smiling how you do, and be angry. Annoyed maybe for the wait, but that too slowly dissipates when he looks at you.

Not completely, but just enough.

You act as some sort of balm for his emotions, the bad ones, and an irritant (meant in the best way possible of coutse) for the good ones, amplifying them by just being near.

"I'm sorry," you offer up, genuinely sorry. You don't like keeping Billy waiting, not because you're scared of him or you're doing things on his time- but because you know his father. And you know the times he comes home can set his father off.

And he did this without you asking.

"Mmm... Next time you can walk."

He says it but he doesn't mean it, he wouldn't let you walk home alone late. His voice gives him away too. But maybe it's only obvious to you.

Rather than giving him a response you only smile at him, closing the distance fully between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Ah, Hargrove," Eddie Munson makes his presence known; he always seemed to be bright in a room- he knew how to get people to look hid way.

So did Billy.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Eddie bows dramatically. His face plastered with a smirk as he looks between you and Billy who now has a single arm across your shoulders as you keep your arms wrapped around him.

"Munson," his fingers are pressing into your shoulder and his cologne (which you had been privy to all day anyways because of the jean jacket) just smells so much nicer on the man himself than just on his jean jacket, "the pleasure is hers actually."

There's a deeper meaning to that, you know it. A sexual one, most likely. Especially based on the way Eddie cocks an eyebrow when he stands up fully, his smirk widening only slightly

"If he gives you trouble, let me know Lady Ironbark," Eddie uses your Dungeons and Dragons characters last name as he moves around the table to pick up some things, "not sure what I can do against the beast bit, it's the thought that counts."

Billy doesn't take him seriously and you're glad for that. Because if he decided to, you weren't sure you'd like the outcome.

Initially things had been more tense between the two. One being your best friend and the other being Hawkins High schools king after taking it from Steve. Billy was in the perfect spot to beat Eddie down, bully him and the other members like yourself of Hellfire. But he didn't.

Surprisingly, Billy didn't go around bullying people just to have fun. Or just because he could. In reality, Billy avoided interaction people, needless interaction he cared little about the people in Hawkins. But if they just so chose to cross his path or do something to set him off? Well, that would do it. It wasn't like he actively went out of his way to say words to random kids in the hallway.

"...Lady Ironbark?"

Billy says it flat. And really it sounds kind of funny coming out of his lips.But he does recognize the name; how could he not, when he's sat there before and just let you run off about your character for the current campaign.

"My character for this campaign," you respond- thinking he has forgotten about it, but he really hasn't.

It seems like a lot of times the information you give him sometimes just goes in one ear and out the other. It's just how Billy seems. Like he's not listening, but in reality, he retains all of the things you tell him inside his head. And it will be at moments where you least expect it that he will say the things you think hes forgotten.

"I know," he says, unhooking his arm from around you and pulling away to take a cigarette from his jacket pocket, placing it between his lips, "and you can tell me all about them again, in the car, on the way home."

Billy is itching to leave the school; again, the less time he needed to spend there the better.

"Okay," you smile, a genuine and big smile, turning to look at Eddie and the few straggler members from Hellfire finishing packing things up, "I'll see you guys at lunch tomorrow!"

A chorus of see you tomorrow and good nights come from the boys, and you turn to follow Billy out of the room.

"Put that on," he's already lighting the cigarette in his mouth before the two of you have even exited the school; his chin juts towards his jean jacket in your arms, "It's bitter as fuck out. And you're not getting two of my fuckin' jackets in one day babe, no matter how good you look in them."

Giggling, you pull the jacket on, Billy taking your bag lazily and throwing it over his back in one hand, not caring about being gentle with it. He keeps walking.

"I'm sorry again by the way," he pushes the door open with his hip to exit the school, you hot on his tail, "about being late. I'll make it up to you by letting you play your favourite music in the car on the way to my place."

It's funny because, one, you think you're going to dictate what he plays in his car (sometimes you do but its his car) and two, because you literally like the same kind of music. So it's not really making anything up.

"Whatever."

You know he's got a small tilt to his lips. And you know he's not mad. You know he's going to keep picking you up even if its annoying sometimes. And you know he loves you and you love him.

Even if you're (not so) polar opposites.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfiction #mine #my writing #amy writes #hellfire club

[universe-of-peoples]

Things I Liked About Wish (2023)

• Asha’s dress! It’s a style Disney has never used before and one that’s not often used in animation. It was so refreshing and really pretty!

• Star’s expressiveness! The audience could always tell what they were thinking even though they couldn’t talk. Just here to have fun with fun people but oh no there’s a big meanie messing that up and we gotta stop him.

• Asha’s friends! I wish we could have seen more of them as it’s hard to develop that many characters in such a short time, but they did what they could with the time they got and they laid the potential groundwork for future stories (spinoff tv show spinoff tv show???)

• The diversity! If I remember correctly the movie is set on a Mediterranean island, and that’s a great place geographically to put different cultures and peoples mixing (gives me live action Little Mermaid vibes in that way?)

• All the references and Easter eggs! IMO they were perfectly balanced to not be too overbearing in the movie - enough so that when they happened you could laugh and say “hey I understood that one!” but not too distracting as they didn’t interfere with the plot.

• Valentino! I loved bringing back talking animal companions in a realistic way (as realistic as magic can be). Love that there was an actual explanation for the animal companion talking instead of either a) not explaining it or b) having the animal understand English and communicate their thoughts through facial expressions but still be unable to speak. Not that either of these are bad, it was just refreshing to have a new option!

• The new art style! It was so soft and pretty, a perfect balance of the timeless fairytale old movie style and modern animation.

There’s more but I might make longer posts about them!

#disney’s wish #wish 2023 #wish #wish asha #wish star

[batsandbugs]

Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System

IKEA Verse

AN: Hey look, I'm back!!! I hope you guys are ready for this next part of the IKEA Verse. It's a three-parter from Bruce's POV. I had so much fun with this and am glad to be back writing for this universe. Hope y'all enjoy it!

Chapter 1

Staring out across a purple and umber field, three moons hanging low on the horizon, and an approaching alien army marching ever closer from a distance, Bruce feels a headache forming along the base of his skull.

And he’s very sure it’s not because of the army.

Normally, he keeps his emotions as dampened as possible, especially while in the suit, but it’s only him, Clark, and Diana standing guard in this watchtower. He hasn’t slept more than twelve hours in the past four days, and he deserves to grumble a bit about an impending stress headache.

He pulls down his cowl, rubbing aching temples with glove-clad hands. 

“You feeling okay?” Clark asks, like the mother hen he pretends not to be.

“No,” Bruce grunts.

“It’s only an army, gentlemen. We’ve faced worse before,” Diana says from her seat. She repetitively, one might almost say nervously, sharpens a pair of knives Bruce swears were already so finely edged they could cut air, but he won’t mention that to the armed warrior princess.

“I’m not worried about the army. We’ll be fine.” Bruised, battered, and bloodied perhaps, but they’ll be fine.

Clark tilts his head, looking like a human, non-yellow version of Big Bird. “So why the headache?”

Bruce sighs. “My children are doing something stupid.”

Clark and Diana look at him askance.

He has categories for his headaches. They are all distinct, so much so he named them according to the type of situations they arise from. The Situation-has-gone-to-shit headache, the Joker-has-escaped-Arkham-again headache, or, a personal favorite, the Press-are-being-stupid headache.

This particular headache is a slow build. Bubbling at the base of his neck and slithering its way into his temples. It pounds in time to his heart and sends a feeling of nausea down his gullet.

It’s his My-children-have-done-something-stupid-and-the-consequences-have-spiraled-out-of-control headache.

It was one he was very familiar with.

“How- but… they’re on Earth,” says Clark in confusion. “Did you get like, a text or something?”

“No,” Bruce says plainly. His headaches never lie. He bet if he calls right now, they would either not pick up at all, or they would, and utter chaos would be occurring on his home planet more than several million miles away. Where he can’t do anything.

This is why the headache warning is completely impractical and unneeded.

“Then how do you know?” Diana asks.

“I always know.” They’ve worked with him for long enough, they should already know this.

Clark shakes his head. “It’s not that I don’t believe you about the headache B, but isn’t it more likely it’s just from stress and lack of sleep. None of us are as young as we used to be.”

“Speak for yourselves, mortals,” Diana says with a half-hearted smile. Her immortality was an ever-lingering shadow over her friendships. It didn’t stop her from making friends though.

“Well, we can’t all be perfect immortal warrior princesses,” Clark responds with a smile. He places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze. A silent acknowledgment they were all still there. Together.

For now.

Bruce shoots them both an unimpressed stare. “If it was just from stress and sleep deprivation I would be able to handle it.” Plus, that headache is completely different from this one, he knows what his Lack-of-sleep-too-much-stress ­headache feels like, but this isn’t it. “No, it’s specifically the headache I get when my children are causing problems.” He sighs, pulling out his interstellar communicator. He really should focus on the approaching alien army, but he can at least set the groundwork for dealing with whatever problem has arisen when he gets back.

He shoots Alfred a text letting him know about the headache, and to locate his children as soon as possible.

Had he known this would be the case all those years ago when he first adopted Dick… well, he still probably would have done it. He loves all his kids to the moon and back. Headaches and all.

“I don’t get headaches about my kids,” Clark grumbles. He pauses, thinking. “At least not before I’m sure they’re causing trouble.”

“That’s because your kids don’t cause trouble the same way mine do,” says Bruce, thinking of the unique and eclectic skill sets each of his children possessed. Yes, much more potential danger-making than two kids with superpowers. “I need the early warning system.”

A screeching alarm sounds on one of the monitors. Bruce checks it. The approaching army’s scouting parties finally arrive in range of their volleying.

“Ready?” he asks, pulling up his cowl. All frustrations and weaknesses melting away. This is serious.

Diana stands, sheathing the knives, and poses herself to leap into action. “Verily. Let’s show this scum who not to mess with.”

Clark comes over and places a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You sure you’ll be good?” Bruce only gives a silent glare back. He’s fought on broken bones and with poison running through his veins. A headache is child’s play. “Alright, alright just making sure. Let’s get this over with and get home, so you can deal with whatever mess your children have created.”

“Perhaps, it won’t be so bad,” muses Diana, winding up her lasso, as their first enemy comes into range. “Your children are smart and creative warriors. Certainly, they can rescue themselves out of whatever trouble they’ve risen.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about them getting out of trouble,” says Bruce. He’s trained them better than that. “I’m worried about anyone else who might get caught up in the chaos.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Clark reassures. “They’re good kids.” He shoots down an enemy drone ship with a blast of laser vision. “What’s the worst they could do?”

Another shiver rolls down Bruce’s spine. Oh, he’s sure it could get very, very bad. After all, he’s trained them. But considering a giant alien tank, covered in spikes, and lobbing explosive mortars drops down thirty feet away, he feels Clark’s last comment, in all its misguided naiveté, deserves to go unanswered.

He’ll deal with whatever chaos his children have concocted when he’s back on earth.

0o0o0o0o0 (line break) 0o0o0o0o0

A day and a half later the aliens are defeated and the reigning government properly reinstated. The Justice League, given their due thanks and medical assistance, board back onto their ship and settle in for a long interstellar trip back to the Watchtower. By the time medical clears him, Bruce is barely able to keep his eyes open. When he finally beams down from the Watchtower, it is so late it’s inching on early.

Thankfully, no one’s in the cave when he arrives. His chest is bandaged, and his concussion is minor, but he’s in no mood to deal with people. He strips out of his suit and takes a hot shower. The cave’s water pressure hits the right spot on his sore and battered body. Once finished, he retrieves a pair of comfy clothes stashed in his locker, and downs a handful of extra-strength pain meds from the med bay.

He glances back at the computer. Once upon a time; ten, even five years ago maybe, he'd seat himself down and work till the sun came up. Checking and double-checking all the going-ons in his city until he was sufficiently informed. Now though he can't even begin to muster up the energy to care. He knows his children, for all that they might have caused problems he'll have to deal with once he's more awake, will have handled everything. If this city's not on active fire (which it isn't, Bruce did check that) it can wait till tomorrow.

Or, well, later today.

Bruce ambles over to the elevator.  

He sighs once the doors close, slumping against the metallic interior. A hand run across his still-damp hair hits the bump that caused the concussion; he winces. Every twinging bruise splayed across his body throbs in a synchronous agonizing orchestra. He’s been in far more extensive pain than this, more times than he can count on all the fingers and toes of his adopted children, but for some reason, he needs the elevator wall to keep himself standing.

Clark was right. They weren’t getting any younger. 

Retirement was in his future soon. If he wasn’t dead before then. 

But the mission continued, as it always did, and until Bruce could no longer rise to meet it, he would continue to fight.

But for now; sleep and extra strength pain meds.

He barely remembers walking down the corridors to his room, much less falling face first into his bed. By the time his head hit the pillow, he is fast asleep.

0o0o0o0o0 (line break) 0o0o0o0o0

Morning comes all too early.

It also comes with an unexpected wake-up call.

“Rise and shine, Master Bruce,” says a suspiciously smug voice. Bruce groans at the sound and shoves a pillow over his face as Alfred throws open the heavy brocade curtains letting in a stream of mid-summer sunlight enter his room.

“What have I done to deserve this betrayal?” Bruce hisses, brain entirely too foggy to recall if he’d done something to piss Alfred off before he left for space.

“This isn’t betrayal Master Bruce. It’s eleven-thirty and high time for your day to begin.” Bruce hears Alfred puttering around his room like a well-practiced dance.

“I just fought an army to a standstill and prevented a terrorist coup on an alien planet. Can’t I just skip existing today?” Bruce feels that is more than fair. He would like to continue sleeping.

“I’m afraid opting out of consciousness is an unfeasible course of action for you today, dear boy. However, I did bring you breakfast if you’d like to pry yourself out of bed long enough to enjoy it.” Alfred’s voice is calm and steady. The elderly butler doesn’t allow food in bed. Ever. So, breakfast in your room is as close to breakfast-in-bed that the residents of Wayne manor get.

Bruce peaks his head out from under the pillow. Sure enough, Alfred has a breakfast platter set up over at his seating nook. Fresh fruit, a fluffy omelet, steaming blueberry scones, and a piping hot French press full of pitch-black coffee.

Oh.

Oh no.

Bruce’s sleepiness evaporates in an instant. “I don’t get breakfast in my room unless I’m sick or dying, and since the Watchtower med bay cleared me, I’m currently neither of those things.” A familiar pounding pain, this time manifesting right behind his eyes and seeping outward takes up residence in his head. Bruce closes his eyes and rubs at the lids with his thumb and pointer finger.

This is his Alfred-is-about- to- give-me-bad-news headache.

He takes a deep breath, braces himself, and asks, “How bad is it?”

The elderly man doesn’t turn around, continuing to straighten the objects on the platter. It’s his own form of fidgeting. “I also have yesterday’s newspaper available for you to peruse.”

Bruce groans, smacking his head against the headboard. “The newspaper? They managed to get themselves in the fucking newspaper!”

He loves his children.

He swears he does.

But he is absolutely gonna wring their necks.

“In or out of masks?” he asks, dreading the answer. Maybe it’s in masks. Maybe he can manage the fallout without having to resort to press conferences, official statements, or-

“You have several missed calls from Wayne Enterprise’s PR team.”

“Fuck.”

“Verily.”

Throwing off the covers, Bruce doesn’t bother to hide a wince as sore feet hit wooden floors. He treads to the sitting area, draping his Batman-themed dressing gown – Dick’s most recent Christmas gift – over his clothes. Laying himself across the chaise lounge, he snags a blueberry scone and stuffs it into his mouth.

Alfred sits opposite, in the chair on the other side of the coffee table, and pours himself a cup of tea.

Years ago, the proper uptight butler would never have broken propriety to sit with his charge and eat. But at this point; he’s raised Bruce, grandparented seven traumatized children to adulthood – despite several dying and resurrecting, along the way- kept a manor house running by himself on nothing but spite and dedication alone, became the equivalent of a triage medic with the amount of stitching and emergency surgery done over the years, and been the sole voice of reason for a house full of over-dramatic-theatre-kids-turned-vigilantes.

He adds two lumps of sugar to his tea and offers Bruce the newspaper with an unreadable face.  

There are a few moments of silence as Bruce scans the words, digesting the story laid out in black and white on the pages.

“An IKEA?”

“Yes sir.”

“And whose grand idea was that?”

“I believe Master Richard’s.”

Bruce sighs. The headache intensifies.

“What were they trying to accomplish?”

“A good old-fashioned game of hide-and-seek.”

Bruce shook the paper. “How does hide-and-seek turn into property damages, worker strikes, and-” he squints at the paper. “Ball pit insurrections!”

“I’m afraid you will have to hear the entire story from the children Master Bruce, I’m not sure I could do the tale justice.”

Bruce narrows his eyes, now Alfred is just being cagey.

“Security threw them out?”

Alfred sips his tea. “No, they insisted they left voluntarily. Although, all but Damian are now banned from every IKEA on the eastern seaboard, and Master Timothy has spent the past day and a half fielding media outlets and assessing the amount of compensation this incident will require to quietly smooth over.”

Rolling his eyes, Bruce says, “This is going to fuel media speculations for weeks. Quiet is not on the books.” He grabs another scone but stops halfway to his mouth. Rereads the article. “Damian’s not mentioned.”

“No, he’s not.”

“He’s not banned like his brothers.”

“No, he’s not.”

Alfred’s face is very still.

“Alfred…”

“The children, Master Bruce.” Alfred insists again. “I assure you; you’ll want to hear the full recounting of their shenaniganry from them.”

Bruce sighs, again. “The girls would never do this to me. The girls would never get involved in something like this.”

“No…” Alfred says, slowly, reaching for a scone. Bruce covers his face with his hands and leans back against the lounge, the dull throb behind his eyes accosting his brain full force. “If you turn to page four, you’ll see a local pet shop was uncovered as a front for the Russian mob. Spoiler and Black Bat were instrumental in helping the police smoke out the perpetrators. Less helpful would be the subsequent three-hour car chase across the southern half of the city, but that’s neither here nor there.” He picks up the French press. “Coffee, Master Bruce?”

Bruce wishes he was back in space fighting the alien army.

AN: Alright that's the end of chapter 1. Should have the next one out sometime Monday. I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you all for your wonderful comments and reblogs over the past few days. It warms my heart and makes me giddy with joy how many of you love this silly little series. I hope that this can brighten your day as much as you brighten mine.

If you want to read this on ao3 you can click here!

(Pst... If you think I'm great and my writing is entertaining, maybe check this out!)

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #the great ikea game #the ikea verse #damientte #damianette

[communistkenobi]

hi, you recently wrote a great post (https://www.tumblr.com/communistkenobi/716670514910871552/conversations-about-representation-have-always?source=share) abt representation, which i agree with. what media would you recommend as having well done representation, not just individualistic tokens?

(making the link clickable here for reference)

Thank you! But honestly I don’t have any great recommendations lol. Disco Elysium feels like a pretty obvious answer, but that game is specifically about social systems and structures and so its premise sort of demands that macroscopic view of a fictional world. I have a pretty narrow media diet and therefore feel unequipped to give good recommendations in that regard. I think this might also be an issue of western media in general, given that it is produced in and comes out of liberal capitalist hegemony, so that context prescribes a political orthodoxy that is the exact issue I’m talking about in that post. I know that’s not helpful though sorry lol.

Also sorry x2 this is going to be a complete sidebar and not an answer to your question. What I had in mind when I originally wrote that post was trying to describe my sense of - idk alienation? Is maybe the correct word? When I see trans characters pop up in media or even when people headcanon characters as trans. It’s not wrong to do those things or represent trans people in media - obviously not - but often in genre settings like sci-fi or fantasy there is no engagement with gender as a social system outside of a trans character being there. Modern western binaristic gender identities are left fully intact, except for this small space carved out for a trans person. And because my own conception of trans-ness is so deeply tied to modern social circumstances and historical contexts (capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, settler-colonialism, orientalism, etc), I find myself unable to relate to trans characters who appear in those settings because in order to relate to them you need to set the groundwork for like, how does a transgendered relationship to gender work in this setting? How does a character go about transitioning, or expressing their trans-ness in a social capacity? What gendered expectations do these characters respond (or not respond) to? And if you’re duplicating modern western gender norms in those settings (which is almost invariably the case), how does that system interact with other social systems of control and domination in this fictional universe?

And like idk if that feels like asking for too much, but even when I see trans characters on screen or on the page (which is incredibly rare already), I don’t really feel represented by them because the boundaries of their trans-ness stops at their individual body, and so you end up reproducing essentialist ideas about gender just by virtue of the fact that nothing else in the setting is troubled or complicated by the presence of a trans person. The appearance of a trans person means there is a social system that fails groups of people, that an oppositional relationship to binaristic gender is possible in this world, but that’s never reckoned with - at least not in the media I have ever encountered. So I default to almost wanting trans-ness to not appear in media because at least then gender in these universes is a fully “settled” matter and I don’t have to think about it beyond that. Which isn’t a fun experience either, but it’s at least easier to avoid thinking about it in those cases.

Anyway sorry my answer to your question is that I don’t have a good answer. If people have good recommendations they can feel free to offer them in the replies, but I probably won’t be able to speak to those at all

#asks #book club #effortpost #even old new york was once new amsterdam #fandom discussion

[utilitycaster]

I want to expand on the role of Brevyn, because I think Madeleine Roux had a really tough task, to humanize Lucien without compromising him as, well, the campaign BBEG who betrayed every last alliance in the pursuit of power, as well as drawing parallels to Molly (and even setting groundwork for Kingsley), and I think she did it wonderfully. I also want to talk about how Brevyn parallels Molly both within the canon and externally, which I honestly don't know is deliberate (the external part; the in-canon part I assume is on purpose but I have to imagine Roux stayed out of fandom things in order to avoid being unwittingly influenced by fanon).

I assume if you're reading this you've read the book but in case you're not, Brevyn is a friend and lover of Lucien's from Shadycreek Run. She's his oldest friend other than Cree, and notably, whereas Cree is always a follower of Lucien, Brevyn is someone Lucien follows. She's why he ends up going to the Claret Orders - she gets kicked out of her mother's house, where Lucien and Cree also often stay, so they all go to the Claret Orders. When the Claret Orders find themselves lacking in contracts, Brevyn is the one who branches out and ultimately builds a working relationship with Vess, and along with Lucien is the one who brings together the original Tombtakers (she and Jurrell die before we meet them in Campaign 2). She ultimately dies trying to retrieve the Somnovem journal for him, of her own accord.

As a result, Brevyn serves something as a lost Lenore, and as the tether that snapped at just the right time. It underscores why Lucien's response to Vess is so particularly brutal, why he became so tied up in the Somnovem in the first place, and because while Brevyn's death, like those of all of the Tombtakers, ultimately is because of the Somnovem, she's the only one who dies purely of her own free will. Lucien forces the rest to follow him, in the end, and lets them die one by one. He neglects his sister in favor of ambition, and then is devastated that she decided to build her own life in his absence and won't leave for a long-lost brother. But Brevyn dies as herself. She's that one last shred of humanity that was not present in what we saw of him in the show. And the shard of Molly latches on to that, understandably, as the one good thing Lucien had, because in the end Lucien is someone we know from Campaign 2 will ultimately leave even Cree, his oldest companion, to die, in order to buy himself a little bit of time. We need one relationship he actually cared about; and that one is Brevyn, with whom he stayed as she died.

Now, the fun thing for me is that the book is written in a third person limited viewpoint. The opinions presented are Lucien's, for the most part, so we see Brevyn through his eyes. She, understandably, becomes idealized to him even though it's clear she's got plenty of flaws (willing to make some sketchy deals with the Assembly, impulsive to the point of adrenaline junkie levels, rather too trusting, ruled heavily by emotion over logic) because, well, he has feelings for her. And then, of course, after she dies, he idealizes her within the narrative, because how could he be anything but loving and generous with the woman who gave her life so he could continue to live?

It's remarkably close to how the fandom and the Mighty Nein themselves responded to Molly's death, with his worst traits, the condescension and fickleness and manipulation, all washed away because he did, in the end, die for them. And this is a pretty common trope, to come up with a far more perfect version of someone after they've died, particularly if they died in a way where it feels like you owe them something, so again, the way it parallels the fandom lionization of Molly might be a happy accident - but it's a really fun metatextual reflection here nonetheless.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #nine eyes of lucien spoilers #brevyn oakbender #lucien tavelle #the nine eyes of lucien #long post

[arthenaa]

To be or not to be (CHAPTER 2)

Auror! Sebastian Sallow x Fem! MACUSA Auror! Reader Series

Story Summary: To prevent a war between humans and wizards, you and Sebastian are tasked with your respective agencies to save the fate of the wizarding world from the hands of a dark wizard in the Philippines.

Chapter Summary: After almost getting yourself arrested and controlling the urge to strangle Sebastian Sallow, you try to remain civil by being the bigger person. More things happen and you meet more people as you set sail to the Philippines.

Chapter warnings: cursing, nothing much really again, plot groundwork, mentions of discrimination and colonization, seb likes to tease u, ominis being adorable and cat like, gladys being gladys i love her sm,

Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1

Notes: WOOHOO CHAPTER 2 BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!! 6k words again enjoy this chapter. hiraya is my daughter i love her. if you want to be part of the tag list to get immediate updates on the next chapters just reply here or on my future posts on to be or not to be !!! see u on chapter 3 miluvs

It was a matter of a few hours before the head Auror would contact you once again to travel. You had already packed your things and made sure to check your necessities (checking your pocket for your wand constantly as a result of the altercation this morning). Now all you needed to do was wait.

Currently hauled in one of the suites provided by the ministry, you sat idling on your bed, eyes trained on the large windows showcasing London. Your hands found comfort in the soft duvet as you continue to admire the scenery in front of you. Gladys sits on one of the chairs against the wall positioned close to the window. Comfortable silence engulfs you both, with Gladys’s coin flicking and the London bustle as your background noise.

You allow yourself to be distracted as your eyes glance towards Gladys’s coin tricks; Watching as it twirls on her knuckles before flicking it up into the air and catching it effortlessly. You somehow get entranced by it that you weren’t able to notice that she stopped. Gladys clears her throat to get your attention.

“Yeah?” You look up at her, clearly still distracted by her previous actions. The woman blink slow like she was trying to access the deepest parts of your mind. You somehow get nervous under her watchful stare. “Are you trying to mind-control me or something?”

“Why do you always assume that I’m going to do something to you?” She raises an eyebrow in mild amusement as she crosses her leg over her knee. She begins to continue rolling her coin against her knuckles as she raises her elbow on the arm rest. You shrug at her question.

“… You’re quite intimidating.”

She lets out an amused scoff before flipping the coin in the air then catching with her other hand and flopping it against the back of her other hand. She lifts her hand off, assessing the coin before looking up at you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Heads.” She comments offhandedly before resuming with her coin tricks. You raised your eyebrows to gesture for more explanation. “Heads, I leave you alone. Tails, I give in to the urge to smack you in the head.”

You gasp in horror. “You decide inflicting violence on me through a coin?!”

“I’m not intimidating.” She purses her lips as she becomes more and more entertained with your behavior. “Also it makes things… interesting. ‘Decided through a little game’. Doesn’t that make life more fun?”

“You’re evil, y’know that?” You sneer jokingly as you stand up from your seat on the bed. You head over to one of the coffee tables where a fresh pot of tea is placed. With a wave of wand, the tea pot levitates and pours you a cup of tea. You look back at Gladys who resumes her coin tricks as you wait for your drink. “What’s the coin for anyway?”

Gladys glances at you for a second before looking at the coin on her fingers. “Keeps the voices at bay. When I focus my mind on one thing, it’s the closest I have to silence.”

You nod in understanding. You were somewhat aware of how legilimency worked but you weren’t aware about how hard it was. Hearing different voices all at once can become quite an emotional stressor. You weren’t sure you would be able to handle it. You pour another cup of tea for your companion to help ease her down. Gladys turns to you in surprise, hand pausing with her coin as you pull the other chair to sit adjacent to her. You give her a cup of tea to which she receives gratefully. Taking a sip of your beverage, you decide to start another conversation regarding the case.

“Any deductions from the files you’ve received?” You start off as you take a sip from your cup of tea. Ooh, is that lavender? No wait—Chamomile?

“First one—lavender,” Gladys nonchalantly says, referring to your guess of flavor. You pause for a moment, not yet used to her abilities to access the mind before nodding. She takes a sip first before resuming on continuing her response. “Regina Salazar is of pure blood ancestry. From what I’ve learned of wizardry lineage in the Philippines, originally sectioned in tribes, these pure-bloods would use marriage to have tribal connections and to form united fronts. Naturally, after the colonization of Spain, they had to adapt and took different surnames influenced by Spanish culture to avoid being detected by No-Majs.”

You nod in understanding, watching as Gladys pulls out the folder with a flick of her wand and settling it on the coffee table in front of you. The page flicks to the suspect’s main information and intel. You lick your lips as you assess the information in front of you. Gladys continues her collection of background information. “Overall, because of the whole colonization thing, Philippines has to be one of the—if not the strictest regarding No-Maj wizards or half-bloods. Half-bloods take long processes and series of interviews and checkups before they’re approved by the office. Like a fucking criminal taking parole.”

“Must be a discrimination fest in there.” You scrunch your nose at the insinuation. No-Maj discrimination was already quite severe in the wizarding world. You couldn’t even imagine the severity of it in a place that publicly declares its hate for their kind. Gladys shakes her head in agreement. Your eyebrows then furrow as a question comes into mind. “But Regina has a friendly relationship with No-Majs? That contradicts the whole motive, no?”

“Certainly,” Gladys huffs in frustration as she raises her hand to pick at the dry skin on her lips. She then turns a page to a partially filled page with only the information of the area discovered north of the Philippines. Gladys motions to the page with a light knock of her knuckles against the surface. “It has something to do with this, definitely.”

You tilt your head in confusion as you analyze the vague information. “How are you certain it’s connected?”

Gladys takes a sip of her tea, licking her lips for any lingering residue. “I don’t. It’s just something we’d have to find out.”

_

“What’s up, old man? On your coffee break?” You smile at your former mentor who quietly sips his coffee in the wee hours of the morning. You had spotted the man lingering in one of the ministry’s large empty rooms (presumably used for large events). You assumed this would be the place of traveling with the equipment and size of it all. It could definitely fit a portkey large enough to travel multiple people. You couldn’t help but approach the man and ruin his solitude. Your mentor breaks into a grin at your arrival and he immediately welcomes your presence with a raised arm, inviting you to a hug.

You run like it’s innate for you to immediately dive into his arms, hugging his waist with glee as he squeezes you to his side. The silence is comfortable as you allow yourself a moment of peace. Elliot releases you with two pats on the back before pulling away. He tilts his head, certainly not expecting you to be this early. “Still resorting to that damned nickname, kid?”

“You literally still call me kid.”

“Touché,” He chuckles as he takes a sip of his beverage. “What’re you doing up? Finally exhausted Joanne’s mind-reader?”

“Mhm, literally face-planted on the bed. Had to deal with me yapping both physically and mentally. I think I killed her. Also don’t call her that, she just might haunt you back from the dead.” You scrunch your nose as you joked. Elliot laughs at your jesting.

There’s a lapse of silence before Elliot starts a conversation once more.

“How’s the Sallow boy so far?” He asks with a glance towards you, assessing your body language at the prompt of his question. Your former mentor had the knack of observing first before proceeding on which course to take. A habit that he, unfortunately, brings everywhere even outside of work. The mans was a detective even in his own personal relationship that it was considered annoying. You had learned to deal with it though. Elliot often joked that by the time he was 70, you would be the only person who could tolerate him.

Elliot immediately knew from the way your shoulders fell and the down direction of your facial features that you didn’t have a good impression of Britain’s representative. You huff a sigh as you tuck your hands inside your pockets. “… He’s okay, I guess.”

“Liar.”

“You and your damned eyes. Have you ever considered not noticing every detail?” You deadpanned. Elliot smiles in amusement at your behavior.

“He was following protocol though. Nothing to blame on a man following rules.”

“Oh, I will be the reason you die someday.”

“Oh! The fear! How could I live now!” Elliot dramatically yells to which you smack his arm at. The man giggles like a fucking school girl and you had to remind yourself that this was a grown ass man and not an 11-year-old kid. You wonder if the nicknames should be switched.

“I tried to make amends okay! Technically, he was the one who didn’t scale his puny little ego down so why should I make the effort?” You complain as you lean against the wall he’s leaning at. Elliot leans against your side to which you return the small affection with the rest of your head against his arm.

“Did you say it nicely?” He responds.

“Nicely? What do you mean nicely?”

“You tend to…” He trails off as he makes absurd gestures with his free hand. “Sound not so nice when you make amends.”

You give him an incredulous stare to which he tries to avoid with a sip of his coffee.

“I don’t do that?”

“Yes you do, Y/N.” He smiles innocently. “Remember that time when I had to not only mentally but physically convince you to apologize to that witness just because he was rude to me? You were basically ripping that man apart in your head and I don’t need to be a legilimens to know that.”

Elliot raises his eyebrows to further emphasize his point. You stare him down, trying to challenge the older man before giving up as you turn your gaze to the other side of the wall with a cross of your arms. He stares at you for a few moments before chuckling. That case was ages ago but it had been quite an annoying one. The witness had been difficult to deal with and considered Elliot to be a wizard of low standing because of his lineage. He had refused to cooperate at first but was eventually convinced with the help of another Auror present at the scene. You had almost tried to strangle the man if it weren’t for the old man’s jokes of reassurance. They were jests to lighten up the mood but you knew better. Be the bigger person, kid.

You had to suck it up and apologize with gritted teeth. A regret you continue to have until this day. A shame you weren’t able to curse that man without losing your job.

Elliot pats your back once more to lighten up the mood. “You’ll get along, kid. You’re a presence is a force to be reckoned with. We just hope it doesn’t clash with his.”

Elliot smiles before finishing his coffee beside you. You sigh as a vague response. Just as the old man says, be the bigger person.

-

“Alright! This portkey holds quite a distance as its built for intercontinental travel. The travel time will take a few minutes but it should be fairly short enough to not cause any sort of pain or dissonance with the mind and body.” Ryona Bassett discusses as rotating door is presented in front of you. You take a glance around the room to assess the people expected on the trip. Gladys Hale stands to your left, suitcase in hand as she rolls her coin on her knuckles. Ominis Gaunt, a relations officer you had been introduced shortly a few minutes ago, standing on your far right. Then Sebastian Sallow, the man who had saved you from your imminent death from the hooves of a horse, to trying to obliviate you then and there, then arresting you, to finally be revealed to be your partner in the span of a few hours, stands to your right. The four of you would be heading first while your mentors will wait for the assessment of the situation before following you out into the field.

You let out the sigh as this is considered to be the nth time you had travelled using a portkey. You hope the weirdness of the experience only lessens the more you get used to it.

“You will be greeted by your division captain who will guide you inside the governing office of the wizarding community. Things after that will be debriefed to you by the head of the office. Are we clear?” Ryona finishes as her eyes assess the four of you. You all answer with curt and firm responses. Howard and Ryona turn to each other with a look, some sort of telepathic message only communicated through their eyes. You could almost feel an unspeakable tension before the minister steps forward to address one more thing.

“The fate of the wizarding word rests in your hands. I hope you’ll be able to deliver well, Aurors.” He nods with a smile before motioning the door with his hand. You watch as a bright light emits from the other side. You exchange looks with Gladys before you feel the brush of a finger against your arm. You turn your head towards the culprit with an apprehensive glare. Sebastian peers down at you with a seemingly innocent smile.

“I’ve thought about your offer,” He says your last name with such gentleness it makes you feel uncomfortable for a moment. You lock eyes with him as his eyes never seem to leave from yours. It made your palms sweat from how piercing his stare is. “I’ve decided to give it a chance…”

“Really?” Your facial features relax in relief that it almost makes Sebastian coo at your adorable decision to let your guard down for a moment. He lets a sliver of mischievousness bleed into his smirk.

“Mhm,” He hums as he assesses your face. It almost looks like he’s looking at your lips with the way he’s staring you down. He scrunches his nose before continuing his response. “If you admit that I’m right.”

Your face falls as soon as you hear the words and the brunette erupts into a heap of chuckles before he walks away from your side then walking over to Ominis with a pat on his back. The poor blonde only furrows his eyebrows at him, chastising him for his poor cooperation. Sebastian only shrugs before he casts one last look at you then entering the rotating doors with a push against it. Ominis follows after.

You let out a sigh, deciding to not let yourself get annoyed by his little act but the woman beside you think it’s quite amusing. You hear her low chuckle as she flips her coin into the air and catching it effortlessly as she steps forward to make her way to the rotating doors. She casts one last glance at you as she pulls her hat down with a smirk. “Really? You’re just going to let him have that?”

Your jaw clenches in amusement as your hatred and urge to kick Sebastian Sallow off his high horse doubles over the last few minutes. You would try and plan your revenge now but a cough from Elliot and a nudge of his head immediately reminded you of your current situation. You nod with haste as you grab your case before making your way to the doors. You send one last smile at the old man as he sends you off with a short wave. You push the glass doors, letting the light engulf you.

Then suddenly, everything was black.

-

The world is a blur.

Your senses are in a disarray and you couldn’t sense where you were exactly with the fogginess your brain was currently in. You try to will yourself to blink or move any part of your body, trying to get a feel your current situation.

It was certainly a bit warmer than London, windier as well. Ryona said there won’t be any dissonance. Goddamn liar.

You could feel a presence on your side, a weight keeping you up. Then a voice.

“Y/N?”

It was faint but it was there.

Mom?

“Y/N, wake up. Fuck.”

No wait, it’s Gladys.

“Don’t tell me she can’t take portkey travels?”

Is that the annoying fuck?

“Do you ever plan on keeping your mouth shut, Sebastian?”

The other guy. Blonde? What was his name… Ominous? Something like that.

“Move.”

Now this was unfamiliar. You feel yourself sit upright with a few set of hands. Your eyes seem to not be cooperating as it remained shut. You suddenly smell something strong and pungent. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but it creates a sudden shock in your system causing you to jolt awake. Your body is forced to move and a cramp forms on your leg as you groan in pain. Gladys, seated beside you, sighs in relief. You take a second to process your environment.

It seems that you’re in some sort scenic view, with the ocean in front of you. Rocks crackle beneath your weight as sand trickles down on the elevated surface from where you’re seating. It almost seems like a calm and refreshing view to see during a vacation but then you’re aware of the 4 piercing stares directed at you.

You recognized the three; Sebastian stands a few meters in front of you with arms crossed, Ominis kneeling on your right and Gladys on your left. That leaves this other guy who’s kneeling in front of you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at the sudden addition to the group.

“Good, the herbs worked.” He smiles like a teacher praising a student’s work. “Must’ve hit quite hard, no? Filipino healing potions tend to have strong effects.”

He pockets the vial of questionable liquid and herbs before he raises his wand and casts a dimmed ‘lumos.’ “Follow the light with your eyes, senora. I need to check your responsiveness.”

You follow without questions as he moves his wand left to right. He then asks you to grip his hand with both your hands then try to push his palm towards him. You were able to do them, albeit weakly. It seems to satisfy the man enough though. The man nods in understanding before the wand quickly apparates away. “Your responsiveness seems okay enough. Long distance travels like these leave wizards in a weakened state. I suppose you don’t get that much portkey travel? Your body seemed to shut down on its own. Alright, let’s get you standing.”

Gladys and the man help you in putting your weight on your feet. Still confused by the whole ordeal and the silence from your colleagues, you blink in confusion as you allow yourself to rest some of your weight in Gladys’s hands. “I-I’m sorry… But who are you?”

“Elias Alcantara. Your Division Captain.” He answers with a smile, charming enough to swoon you but not enough to distract you. Christ. This was the officer that the minister and head Auror was talking about. You nod in understanding, slowly pulling yourself from Gladys’s grasp and allowing yourself to stand on your own two feet. “It’s understandable. Most maharlikas get the same symptoms as you on their first travel. We often use portkeys to visit magical tribes due to distance of their locations from the PhilMaj.”

“Maharlikas? Like Aurors?” Sebastian chimes in, body leaning towards the conversation. Elias places his hands on his hips as he turns to look at the young man.

“Precisely. Although, our Aurors do vary in terms of magic.” Elias turns to assess his surroundings. He seems to be looking for something.

“Are you waiting for someone, Captain?” Gladys says with a raised eyebrow. Elias turns to her for a moment before going back to looking. It’s not long before a call of his name catches your attention. A woman rushes towards you with great speed, apparent excitement evident on her face. You notice their similarities in terms of clothing. A uniform.

The thin sheer fabric with exquisite designing on the center of their upper clothing gives a symbolic nature to it. You were sure it held some sort of meaning with the way the pattern and the swirls was formed. The woman wore a black ankle length skirt while Elias wore black slacks. The only difference in showcasing their rank was the color of the upper apparel and the pin on the collar.

You began to sense this magical community’s levels of strictness bleeding through the uniforms of these officers in front of you. Having enough with analyzing the new addition to the group, you focus just in time for Elias to introduce the woman. “This is Hiraya Rivera; she’s assigned as Philippines’ representative on this case.”

“Yes … That’s me … Or just Raya for short. I already… uhm, know you all, so...” She says with much enthusiasm to the point that it makes her awkwardly adorable. Your group only returns the introductions with stiff smiles. It doesn’t seem to bother her however as she clasps her hands together. “Oh! They must be tired. We should go now.”

Elias nods in agreement before following with his response. “Of course. A final debrief will be done shortly on our arrival to the base. This will allow us to proceed with field assessment and investigation.”

The two share looks of approval before moving along and motioning for the others to follow them. The four of you stare at their backs as they move closer to the bay. Normally, wizardry governing offices were meant to be hidden in plain sight and only wizards should be able to see them but so far, all the four of you have seen is a blank scenery of what is supposedly the Philippines’ wizarding governing office.

“Um, to where exactly?” Ominis inquires for the benefit of the group. Hiraya turns around, assessing your confused expressions before smiling as she nudges her head towards the captain who walks towards the shallow parts of the water.

The four of you follow begrudgingly, letting the cold waters seep into your shoes. Ominis clings to Sebastian’s arm, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden change of temperature as he grips his wand tightly within his other hand. Gladys seems to not mind the cold at all as she lets out a sigh and picks up her pace to match with Captain Alcantara. The wind blows against your hair, ruffling your robes as you try to pull them closer against you. The waves pull you closer to Sebastian’s side.

“Not expecting this kind of entrance!” Sebastian tries to shout over the loud splashing of waves against the shallow waters. The waters have already reached to your thighs.

You allow yourself to be slightly pushed by an incoming wave. “Certainly has to be one of the most unique ones I’ve seen.”

Sebastian glances at you with a smirk. “Thought about what I said, Y/L/N?”

You let out an annoyed huff as you faced him with a deadpan stare, giving him no answer as you move towards the front, leaving the two boys to their own. You could faintly hear Sebastian’s light chuckle over the harsh winds. You’d rather be dead than give him the satisfaction of hearing what he wanted to hear.

Okay, maybe…. It was on his jurisdiction to arrest you.

But was it really your fault? He could’ve handled it in a more civil way after he had found out you were a witch. You could’ve been nice and understanding as you were an Auror yourself. But the day had not been the best one and dealing with a man who has now made it his mission to piss you off by not taking you seriously because of your little altercation, has definitely started to put you in a not so civil mood. But of course.

You have to be the bigger person.

Curse you Elliot Fontaine for being a shitty fucking role model. Too imperfectly perfect to be one. The right amount as others would say.

The trio in front of you suddenly stops in their tracks as the water had now reached your hips. It was silent at first. The type of silence that made you unnerved. It was like you were expecting something to jump out of nowhere.

You should’ve held your tongue on that one.

You feel the ripples of water cease into a calm and the sudden eeriness of it all tripled by a dozen. Elias and Hiraya draw up their wands but as the three of you (with the exception of Ominis who is still clinging quite tightly on Sebastian’s arm) follow their movements, Hiraya only stares back with a shake of her head. Gladys turns to you with an apprehensive stare as the three of you slowly lower your wands.

Then the ripples start again. This time more chaotic and aggressive.

A sign of aggression and power. You could almost cower in fear as high pitched noises fill the air. Ominis and Sebastian clutches their ears in response at the howling noise. You see shadows in the water, circling your little group then it jumps. It was hard trying to make a figure out of it as it somehow manages to control the waters as they jump into the air.

Sebastian could make out three creatures circling them. He wasn’t sure if this was part of an initiation but the calm demeanors of the local Aurors at the front seemed to be his last thread of sanity in this very disturbing and panic-inducing moment. The circling stops as the creatures finally end their laps by surrounding them on each side.

They rise from the waters and you could only stare in awe as green scales with fish like heads emerge from the waters.

“What’s happening?” Ominis whispers in Sebastian’s ear. The brunette is entranced in fear by the presence of these domineering creatures.

“You don’t wanna know.” He replies, quietly. The silence is tense and uncomfortable as these creatures with large fins and predatory stares guard your group in a circle.

It’s Captain Alcantara who breaks the silence. “We’re expected. Bisita sila ng Datu.”

(“They are visitors of the Datu”)

The creatures make gurgling and chirping sounds before the so called leader, standing in front of Captain Alcantara, nods its head.

“Very well, Maharlika. Ibigay ang daan.” The leader says in a low and deep voice. It almost sounds too inhuman. Nevertheless, the group of creatures then swim once again underwater. Their figures form in a blur as they began to swim fast into circles in front of your group. A small whirlpool begins to form before the creatures swam back and then towards the whirlpool, using some sort of pressure that bursts the moving waters up. You had expected it to explode into your face, but the waters remain still above you forming an archway to a tunnel pathway. The waters beneath you slowly descend as they put you down slowly onto the sandy path. You see the creatures on standby in the walls of water. They send you a bow of respect before moving along.

(“Lead the way”)

“C’mon, the tunnel closes fast. The longer it stays up, the longer the risk for exposure.” Elias motions the four of you still stuck in a trance. Hiraya smiles as she pulls on your arm, encouraging you to walk with her. Just as Ominis and Sebastian enter the depths, the entrance immediately merges into what it once was. Sebastian lets out a huff of amusement before leaning close to whisper what just happened in Ominis’s ear.

You would think of the gesture endearing if it weren’t for the constant reminder of your dislike for him in your head.

“Apologies for the short freight, that was their main purpose to scare intruders. The Siyokoy tribe can be quite aggressive. Anyways, this way,” Captain Alcantara leads as whisps of blue flames light up as they trudge through a sandy path. You follow the officer, admiring the blues of the tunnel in awe. You watch as school of fishes pass by and numerous sea creatures appear above you. This was marvelous.

Silence lapses once more as the only sounds of the trek below was the sea life surrounding you and the crunch of your shoes against the sandy pathway.

It’s Hiraya who breaks your short solitude. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N right? Elliot Fontaine’s protégé?”

You turn to her with a smile. Her overall demeanor and personality seems too bright for your taste. It definitely is too blinding whenever she smiles. “Yeah—Well, was his protégé. Got promoted.”

You sheepishly reply to which she gasps in surprise. Eyes widening and mouthing forming a wide smile. God, she’s expressive too. “Congratulations! That’s incredible. I’m happy for you, senora.”

It’s awkward once again. The urge to say something back gets lost in your thoughts of thinking of another topic to start. This sends you in a spiral of trying to make your social relations skills work. It seems that Gladys has noticed your inner turmoil as she sends a look of amusement back at you from her position with Captain Alcantara. Your eyes widen at her as a glare to which she only chuckles at.

Thank Isolt Sayre that the gal broke the silence once more.

“I’ve seen your cases a few times on the transmission.” Hiraya timidly comments as she fiddles with her fingers, arm still intertwined with yours. You’ve never met an awkwardly introvert extrovert before. Was that even a thing?

She locks eyes with you in what you could say was pure admiration. “I admire you as an Auror is what I wanted to say… Both you and uh… Senor Fontaine.”

“… Thank you.” You nod shyly. “I’ll make sure to let him know.”

Hiraya bites her lip to control her excitement. You can deduce that this young girl had only been accepted recently. Talk about huge potential. Immediately placed as an Auror representative for a case that could indefinitely mean a war against humans and wizards? What kind of skills and capabilities is this girl hiding?

You decide to find it out yourself.

“Have you only graduated recently? Seems like a pretty big case to start off.” You say with genuine curiosity. Hiraya blows a raspberry as she guides you away from a protruding rock sprouting from the ground.

“Well, it’s been 4 years actually? So I guess that’s still fairly new. So um, off topic but um… Marahuyo en Mahika is a school led by Aurors, well babaylans to be specific.” She lists off. Your eyebrows must’ve furrowed in confusion as she leans in to continue. “Babaylans are shamans, most of them are women. They also wield magic quite differently. Instead of wands, they use weapons. Fascinating, right?”

Your eyebrows widen in amusement. “Weapons?”

“Yep. Well, originally Maharlikas or y’know our Aurors were like that too but they eventually had to adapt to the use of wands. Babaylans are old old. They keep the ancestral culture alive which makes them very important figures in the community.” Hiraya nonchalantly continues. “When you get praised and recommended to the Datu by a Babaylan—Datu is, what do you guys call your… The um… head?”

“Overall?” You suggest. From your peripheral, you see Ominis and Sebastian lean closer to listen in on the conversation. Hiraya nods then you continue. “It’s either President or Minister. Depends on the community.”

“Right. So basically, when the overall head gets a recommendation from a Babaylan. It means big,” Hiraya glances at you to assess your reaction. “They have inner connection to Bathala. They recognize your innate capabilities for magic and your potential for something greater…. Not to brag but yeah, it was mostly why I reached the higher ranks faster. Why I’m being mentored by PhilMaj’s greatest captain.”

Elias hears this. “That better be genuine.”

Hiraya giggles. “Why would I lie?”

You huff in amusement at the girl beside you. Techinically, you didn’t know exactly which field she was recommended for but to have a reliable witch beside you definitely eased your worries. Before you could further admire the literal sunshine hanging off your arm, you were suddenly aware of the large waterfall like entrance in front of you. Too distracted by Hiraya’s chatter, you had failed to realize that you were already at the entrance of the community.

Hiraya turns to you with a giddy smile as Elias pulls out his wand and waves it in a pattern before the waterfalls part gracefully and a whole new scenery is laid in front of you. You enter the place, watching as children flutter around, squealing as they chased one another. You eyed the Spanish influenced architecture and the stone pavements to the dome structure that protects the whole town. It seems to portray a version of day and night. Wizards and witches roam the streets as vendors selling levitating egg waffle balls (the closest thing you could describe it as) and many kinds of delicacies.

“The air is pristine and clean.” Ominis observes to which Gladys hums in agreement. He allows himself to be led by his wand. The waterfall doors immediately led to a small version of a town square. You would immediately be bombarded by the town’s festive nature by the time you enter place. Street lights decorate the place and you watch in amusement as a horse-man? Man-horse? Basically, A horse for an upper body and a man for a lower dressed in formal clothing walks on the other side of the street.

“Senor Cardel!” Hiraya calls at the same horse-man who looks up at the call of his name.

“Senora! Sigues siendo hermosa como siempre!” Senor Cardel greets with motion of the tip of his cigar before chuckling as Hiraya giggles at his compliments.

(Milady! You look beautiful as always!)

Hiraya turns around to see 4 sets of eyes looking at her in confusion.

“Was that a … horse?” Gladys asks, hesitant. Captain Alcantara laughs.

“That was Senor Cardel. A local here in Manila. He’s from the tikbalang tribe.” Elias comments. Gladys sounds a hum of disbelief before continuing to follow the young officer.

As you reach the main town hall, a large path then leads to a large building with grandiose architecture. Gladys glances at you with a knowing look as the four of you alongside Hiraya stand alongside each other.

“This is it right? The governing office?” Sebastian mumbles as the 6 of you watch three people exit the building. There were 2 women and a goblin approaching your little group. One wore a Spanish influenced type of traditional clothing while the other was covered in sleek black with golden jewelry adorning her neck, wrists, and even a form of headband around her forehead. A cloth in exquisite pattern surround her from the shoulder to her hip. A blade is rested on one side of her hip, hands resting on the handle. The goblin, in similar fashion to that of the first lady, approaches behind the two.

“You’re here just as our resident babaylan, Ysmeria predicted.” The woman dressed in beige traditional clothing walks forward. Ysmeria, the woman in black only stares as she analyzes the group before her. Eventually, her eyes landed on you. You couldn’t handle the heaviness of her stare and so you look away.

“Capitan Alacantara, salamat. You have served well and will continue to do so.” The woman praises the young man who nods in respect before taking a step back. The woman then takes a few steps closer to where you four are, kind gaze trained on each one of you.

“We have awaited your arrival. I am Corazon Del Rosario, the ruling Datu. Welcome to the Philippine Bureau of Magic and Wizardry.”

_

A/N: and that is chapter 2 WHWHHWHEHEHEH WELCOME TO THE PHILIPPINES MWA MWA <3 as u can see from this chapter, magical creatures are v much intertwined with society nyehe. More lore explained hihi AND THE INTRODUCTION OF FOUR MORE CHARACTERS!!! Will update the face claims nyehehe lmk your feedback as always!! It always makes my heart warm when I read your responses J

Datu – rulers, chiefs and monarchs in precolonial ph

Babaylan- shamans, often female, who use connect to the spirits and nature to heal and protect. Can also be warriors or leaders.

Siyokoy – underwater creatures depicted to have fish like features

Tikbalang – creatures who guard the mountains. Depicted to have a horse for a head and a human body.

#arthenaa #arthenaa auror seb fic #tobeornottobe #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy x reader #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hp

[keepingupwitht]

"Counting the Cost" by Jill Duggar Dillard

Last night, I read all of Counting the Cost in one sitting because apparently my fundie fascination is still going strong over a year after we closed down KUWF. I've got a lot of takeaways I want to talk about so I'm going to put a cut and get into it all after the jump.

In the beginning of the book, it struck me how generally correct we were about Jill and growing up as a Duggar. She was a people pleaser and playing the role of “Sweet Jilly Muffin” was so important to her. She loved her childhood and her parents. It’s interesting both from Jinger & Jill that as kids, the Duggar childhood of their memories is an idyllic one. There was a lot of emphasis on their values - no rock music, dancing, movies, etc. but it was a lot of time spent together and fun and games. 

We also saw the shift in the way they grew up - they were always IBLP inspired conservative Christains, but were attending a regular baptist church up until they attended a different church one week that had dancing in the service. Suddenly, they started attending an IBLP only church and getting deeper in. Jill recounts the first time she went to an IBLP conference and realized there were other families like theirs. It was interesting to see their early progression deeper into the cult (which Jill even calls it by the end of the book). 

Jim Bob getting into politics was interesting - Josh’s early interest in it, while Jill preferred to get treats from the other legislators, made a lot of sense. When Josh is sent away, Jill glosses over some of the details (fair enough) but it’s interesting to me to see how she lays out the three things happening around the same time: (1) going deeper into IBLP, (2) her dad getting involved in politics and (3) Josh getting sent away. It lays the groundwork for what TLC is about to walk into and change everything. 

Jim Bob also saying he knew God wanted him to run for Senate, then losing and immediately being noticed by the press and ultimately Discovery - and opening the “window of opportunity” for their family to be on TV was a little wild. The fact that all this happened ultimately because this man flipped a coin three times and got heads all three times - something that has a ⅛ probability of happening - is sorta wild. 

Jill not enjoying filming was something I did not expect - honestly I always thought that she was one of the kids who enjoyed it more. But it makes sense now that she was one of the few who refused to have her honeymoon filmed and refused TLC cameras at her birth, which Jana and Michelle filmed. Those were one of the things that I noticed at the time but didn’t realize what it meant. Good for Jill for standing her ground on both those things - although she wanted to refuse to have her birth filmed at all. 

It was interesting to me that the Duggars were not an IBLP model family UNTIL the show. The show put them in that position - Jill didn’t think they’d be one without it. And the line about Jana being invited to visit headquarters as the only blond to be one of “Gothard’s Girls” just hurts to think about in hindsight. 

It’s interesting how long they propped Josh up as the golden boy while he was in trouble behind the scenes. 

In hindsight, the fact that Jim Bob really set up Jill and Derick is really something, since they would ultimately be the first to really break away. 

Everytime Jill advocates for herself, I am so proud. She pushed for two weeks in Nepal to meet Derick even when they only wanted to film part of the trip, and got the time. They filmed a fake goodbye and then spent another week getting to know each other. 

 I didn’t expect to have my lawyer hat on, but the fact that Jim Bob had Jill sign a contract the day of her rehearsal dinner with everything going on with her MILs health without letting her read it, and her not even realizing what was happening was just atrocious. Just pure and straight abuse. 

The fact that Jill was not paid for any filming and thought she was volunteering at her family ministry for the majority of the time she was filming is just awful. I know she did get perks - her Nepal trip, various other trips, her wedding, groceries, etc. But the fact that she and Derick only had a five day honeymoon because that’s all they could afford when Jim Bob almost certainly made more than $100,000 for their wedding is gross. 

This also doesn’t make TLC look very good, since this kind of abuse was allowed to occur basically under their watch. I get that they likely had a great deal on the Duggars because they were only negotiating with questionable businessman Jim Bob but it does suck to see how little they care about the human cost of their show. 

#jill duggar dillard #counting the cost

[luckystarchild]

May I ask what the reason behind your hiatus is?

Have you fallen out of love with Lucky Child? Or is it just not feasible with an actual Adult Job and Life™️? Is there anything we, as the readers, could do for you? I hope i'm not crossing a line or being rude!

I hope your day goes fantastic, you deserve no less!!

It's a valid question.

I'm not out of love with it. The adult job does impact things, but the real reason is a lot more personal.

Long story short, the next story arc (aka the training arc), has a lot of moving parts. Some of those parts were deeply connected to the personal struggles I was going through at the time I conceived of them/started setting the groundwork for them. I was going to work through my problems using my story as an outlet.

Then somebody was rude to me about LC, and that made working on the story feel infinitely less fun, so I went on a hiatus for my mental health, and when I came back, I had actually overcome and moved past some of those personal struggles that I had been subconsciously trying to tackle in my own narrative. So like... the things that it was really important for me to work through via the story are just no longer a problem? Which means those parts of the plot now feel like I'm rehashing old wounds I don't actually need to rehash. But I laid the groundwork, and I would have to rewrite stuff in order to omit those things, so I'm kind of stuck with them.

Furthermore, there are a couple of personal things in the story that I still haven't resolved in my personal life, which makes the narrative difficult to work on on an emotional level.

And that's not all! I'm really anxious that y'all aren't going to like the next story arc. Like, I know a lot of people say they'll read anything I write, and that's great, but this next arc involves a lot of OCs and not a lot of Kurama. And a lot of you have made it very clear that you read this for the ships, that one in particular. So there's a big part of me that is just really scared of disappointing people, and the anxiety of that keeps me from wanting to work on the story too. Which is not anyone's fault but my own.

Basically I just need to start working on it again and get back in the groove of it. I'm just out of practice at this point. There's really nothing to be done but force myself to write again, but once I do, I get the feeling the story will continue to flow without too much of a hassle. It's just a matter of getting there.

I love the direction the story is heading, and I do worry that others will not, but in the end the story is for me. So I'm just going to have to write the story I've always intended to, and that's that.

#luckychildfanfic #yu yu hakusho #yyh #yyh fanfic #yu yu hakusho fanfiction #starcharterfanfic #yu yu hakusho fanfic #lucky child

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.201 thoughts

[I'd Rather Play Bloody Seven]

(Contents: matchup analysis - Nico+Ichico vs. Language, speculation)

I am so sure that Tozuka is a Medaka Box fan. A shonen battle manga that focuses primarily on the romance between its two leads, a power system based on a combination of disadvantage and personal growth, and a tendency to replace traditional battles with games...that's Medaka Box, man!!! If Tozuka comes forth one day and just outright says Medaka Box was a major influence on him, y'all know who said it first!

Anyway, this chapter was super fun for me. Not only did it take me right back to my Medaka Box days (RIP Cipher Academy), it established pretty much immediately the versatility of all of the involved combatants

Language, of course, has access to all of the world's words, so she can theoretically do anything, but in order to make that happen she needs to set up specific rules that facilitate those words into context. Shiritori, then, is the perfect game for that, as in conjunction with Japanese's own versatility for loan words and compatibility with other writing and pronunciation systems, it precludes the need for the player to conjure something from nothing by giving them a jumping-off point. It's kind of like Scribblenauts Showdown with an extra layer of consideration

Nico, in similar fashion, turns that versatility on its head by quickly finding a way to reach his specific niche, transitioning from Aegi[s] to [S]cience. If Lan's familiarity with words allows her to do just about anything, then Nico can do the same with his familiarity with science. He'll still need to come up with words to keep the Shiritori chain going, but he can compensate for any words that don't inherently win a clash by utilizing that word's scientific principles OR the scientific devices he summoned on his previous turn. By summoning his Psycho Pods specifically, he's guaranteed that his usual kit is always available no matter what Lan throws at him, even if he needs to come up with a throwaway word in the meantime

The Psycho Pods have the added benefit of being usable by Ichico even in her soul state; while Nico may not believe in souls enough to actually be able to interact with Ichico, he knows that she's there and presumably believes that her mental capacity is present as well. Because of this, her thought patterns and brainwaves are able to be transmitted to the Psycho Pods via her soul without the need of her literal brain or nervous system, a concept that was once touched upon in this very lab during the Ghost fight. Because Ichico is just as adept at using science as Nico is, she can effectively serve as backup in this game by utilizing the Psycho Pods while Nico focuses on his word choice

How this will develop as the fight goes, I'm not sure, but we've definitely laid the groundwork for Nico learning to see Ichico's soul now that he has some undeniably empirical evidence of its existence (her ability to directly manipulate the Psycho Pods). If I had to guess, the final straw won't be that he believes in souls specifically, but that he believes in Ichico's abilities; technically he won't see "Ichico's soul," he'll see "Ichico," because he believes in her. I'm also willing to bet that keeping her alive in his heart, knowing that her soul is by his side, will be what triggers the awakening of Unforgettable - the drive to remember what he wants rather than being haunted by unpleasant memories

I know I always say I don't like to make predictions, but it's so hard not to when the potential character development is so juicy! Like we're definitely going to get some callbacks to the Ghost fight, how can I not get excited about that and keep my imagination from running wild???

I'm also wondering if the game is going to end with Nico tricking Lan into using a word that ends in N or if he's going to actually hit her with something that'll kill her. It's kind of hard to envision what can kill her, but making her break the rules would definitely do it. Going by her relatively clean state in L100, I'd say that's more or less what he did before

...Wait, wait wait wait...I'm having an epiphany...I'm probably wrong about this, but...what if Nico forcefully gives himself Unforgettable? Like Lan ends a word with the letter U or the A syllable and Nico uses that to create Unforgettable/Anfoogettaburu? Nico's Aegis was based on how he envisioned Fuuko's description of it, so if he imagines it to be a method of recalling lost memories, he might use it to figure out how he beat Lan in L100; he might even immediately awaken to his soul memories too since he'll be looking back at his previous self, giving the opportunity for the previous Unforgettables to chime in

Maybe that's too much of a stretch, but if I were writing this, that's definitely the route I'd take. Hopefully we find out this week, but if not, probably the next

Until then, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

[dutchdread]

Rebirth update 5

Just got done with costa del sol and have to say, slightly annoyed at the moment. Just got a date quests which forces you to go with Aerith. Now that by itself isn't a problem, the game loves forcing you to go on dates you don't want to go on, and Aerith also goes on a date with Tifa. Clearly anything is a date in this game. The problem is that I'm trying to keep Aeriths affection rating low so I don't want to finish the quest, but after talking to the NPCs initiating the quest I no longer had any option to refuse to do it. This also wouldn't be too big of a problem....if it weren't for the fact that now Aerith is following me around Costa Del Sol wherever the hell I go. Also, I've noticed that with Aerith our "relationship" is always forced from the outside. Either it's Aerith forcing Cloud on a date in Remake, the Wall market people or other NPC's just asserting they're love birds, Aerith forcing Cloud up a clocktower or grabbing his arms when he's clearly uncomfortable. It never comes from Cloud himself, it's never natural. It actually kinda reminds me of Cleriths trying to force Cloud into something he clearly doesn't want. It's honestly really uncomfortable to see. Anyway, the sidequests here were fun but not the easiest to get through. Getting a perfect score on the piano took me at least 5 tries and required me to reset the entire game when I made a mistake since it didn't allow a simple "try again". Got very lucky with RedXVIIs football game, took me about 3 resets I think, and managed to get through barrets pirate minigame after some trial and error as well. Biggest issue was finding the yellow hand in spot for the segways, I accidentally finished the entire "cactuar photo" sidequest while just riding around looking for the yellow hand in.

My beachwear style matched Tifas naturally, so that was nice, and I like it when the game is more obvious about what the right choices are, like choosing to go help Tifa and Red during the beach assault. Wasn't sure what the good and bad options were during the beach conversation though so I looked it up and discovered I actually didn't select the best option for Tifa in Junon, which is unfortunate but still. Also found out that every option is "good". Fighting with Tifa in a bikini adds at least one star to this game, and in general I am always happy though when running into Andrea Rodea or Madam M so all in all good times. And Johnny is just always good fun. Something I realized I am not too big a fan of are the summonings in general. In FFVII unfortunately summoning has never been a massive part of the story like in FFIX or FFX. They could have potentially addressed this by tying them in with "WEAPON" more explicitly, but since that didn't happen they're mainly reduced to just being a mechanic that's there because all FF games need Summonings. But the way to remedy that would be to make the summons an integral part of the world, to tie them into the sense of adventure through exploration, by making them a part of the natural landscape in some way. And the groundwork for that is there, the summoning shrines, those are great. But why is the culmination of these quests done in a soulless vr simulation? These should honestly be like regional bossfights that are unlocked by completing a set of regional intel stuff. I feel like this is a really big missed opportunity. Next up is another round of region intel, I wonder what the speedrun time of this game will be, I'd like to see a speedrun which incorporates doing every single minigame 100%

#ffvii rebirth

[joleyssims]

You did it! You broke legacy challenges down to their bare essentials!

At the end of the day, when we create characters, we incorporate character archetypes and tropes into our stories, our legacies, anything with character creation. So, this legacy is created to highlight the things we love about playing with the pixel people in our computers. Cheats are discouraged but what am I, a cop? Just have fun!

Generation 1: The Creator

You are a motivated visionary. There could be nothing but open space around you, not a thing to your name, but that will not hinder you. You are here to lay the groundwork for your legacy. But what you possess in creativity and ambition, you lack in self-awareness and practicality. So, how will you curate your narrative?

Traits: Creative, Self-Assured, Self-Absorbed 

Objectives:

Start on an empty 64x64 lot and set your simoleons to $100. Only make money from what you create or forage until you’ve earned $10000.

Master three creative skills (painting, instruments, etc)

Never reach above level three in practical skills (handiness, logic, etc)

Develop and conquer the Fear of Failure 

Generation 2: The Lover

Growing up, you were surrounded by the arts, seeing the love and passion poured into your parent’s work. This has led to you being warm and loving, a true romantic guided by your heart. When you fall, you fall hard, and nothing will stand in the way of your happy ending. But there may come a time where you need to take off your rose-colored glasses and see the danger in wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Traits: Romantic, Loyal, Jealous

Objectives: 

Develop a ‘soulmate’ relationship with someone and be left at the altar by them

Complete the Soulmate Aspiration and max the Charisma skill

Once you remarry, always maintain a high friendship and romance bar

Successfully plead with the Grim Reaper to spare your spouse or bring them back to life

Generation 3: The Hero

While you deeply admire the love your parents share, you’ve found yourself a bit neglected with them being the center of each other’s worlds. You have the desire to prove yourself worthy of not only your parents’ love, but the love and admiration of society. But the desire to help others and ability to save the day can only fulfill you so much. 

Traits: Good, Overachiever, Perfectionist

Objectives:

Successfully put out ten fires

Have three near-death experiences and conquer the Fear of Death

Achieve a Pristine reputation and earn all of the ‘good’ Celebrity Perks

Reach the top level of the Doctor career

Generation 4: The Magician

While the admiration and job satisfaction were your parent’s favorite part of the job, it was the power and knowledge they had access to that piqued your interest. There’s so much of the world that no one in your family has ever bothered to seek out. It’s left to you to harness the ways of the universe to achieve your goals. 

Traits: Ambitious, Materialistic, Loner

Objectives:

Be born a human and transform into either a vampire or spellcaster

Vampire: max the Vampire Lore skill and become a grand master vampire/Spellcaster: learn every spell and become a virtuoso

Complete the Spellcraft & Sorcery and/or the Master Vampire aspiration 

Mentor your child(ren) in your mastered skills

Generation 5: The Outlaw

Growing up, you were taught that knowledge is power. You come to realize on your own, however, that said power can be used for good or evil. You don’t consider yourself evil, though – no, you’re a rebel without a cause that answers to no one. Will you be an antihero or end up the villain those around you expect you to be?

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Mean, Hot-Headed

Objectives:

Drop out of high school or university and reach the top of the Astronaut career in the International Smuggler branch

Master the Mischief skill and marry your partner in crime

Steal $1000 worth of objects without being caught 

Have and maintain a bad reputation

Generation 6: The Explorer

Your parent was all about rebelling against society and carving out their own path. While you understand them, you don’t feel the same pull towards their chaotic neutral mindset. You are driven to push the boundaries of the status quo and explore the unknown. There’s so much to do and see, what’s the point of not finding out for yourself?

Traits: Adventurous, Active, Loves the Outdoors

Objectives:

Live in at least three different worlds after graduating high school/university

Master the Archaeology and Selvadoradian Culture skills

Reach the temple in El Selvadorada and complete any of the collections

Complete the Extreme Sports Enthusiast and Jungle Explorer aspirations 

Generation 7: The Sage

Your parent’s myriad of adventures and discoveries have left you with a wealth of knowledge to explore. You become a wise figure that your friends and family turn to for knowledge and answers. As much as you enjoy being seen as the one with all the expertise, it places a burden of reputation on your shoulders. It leaves you wondering what the best way to channel your intellect is. 

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Gloomy

Objectives:

Complete the Academic and Renaissance Sim aspirations 

Write the Book of Life

Contribute knowledge to the research machine ten times 

Have multiple children and tutor them until they maintain straight A’s in elementary and high school

Generation 8: The Caregiver

Your parent did everything to make sure you were academically successful and ready to take on the world. But at times you lacked the love and nurturing needed to feel emotionally supported. Your goal now is to make sure your children never lack warmth and affection. While your selflessness is beloved and admired, you’ll have to remember not to sacrifice yourself in the process. 

Traits: Family Oriented, Childish, Neat

Objectives: 

Complete the Big Happy Family aspiration

Have at least three children and be good friends with all of them 

Only pick a career you can work from home. If there aren’t any, be a homemaker

Master the Parenting and Cooking skills

Generation 9: The Jester

You grew up in a comfortable family life that allowed you to develop your own personality and interests. As it turns out,you’re the jokester of the family, the life of the party. You always have a witty remark or the right joke to lift someone’s spirits. But people shouldn’t underestimate your goofy personality, sometimes you’re there to lay out the hard truths. 

Traits: Goofball, Outgoing, Party Animal 

Objectives:

Master the Comedy, Mischief, and Charisma skills

Complete the Joke Star aspiration

Reach level ten of the Comedy career 

Do not develop a negative relationship with any other sim

Generation 10: The Everyman

As the last generation in your legacy, you represent the most relatable, understandable type. You are the Everyman, someone everyone can connect to, recognize from daily life. Your dreams aren’t grandiose, your goals not unrealistic. At the end of the day, you are all of us, and maybe that makes you the most important one of all. 

Traits: Bro, Geek, Foodie 

Objectives:

Enter the Salaryperson career and never change careers

Marry your high school sweetheart and have two kids and a dog

Have and maintain two best friend relationships 

Complete only one aspiration and master no more than three skills

#sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #ts4 simblr

[muzzleroars]

full background on v1 and v2, to give context on how i characterize them!! it is. unfortunately. also almost 2000 words long 🙃

V1 was built for war, given a sophisticated AI in order to not only quickly learn its opponents tactics, but also so that it could make lightning fast changes to its decision-making and movements in order to preserve itself on the battlefield: given its light plating and frail frame, this was key to its survival when coupled with its efficient fueling process. It was basically built to out-maneuver and outsmart any enemy, with its machine-learning geared toward creative uses of its weapons and its environment in order to constantly dodge while feeding on the blood of its confused opponents. However, this coding was never fine-tuned before the war ended and V1 was decommissioned, shut down to be put in storage with the rough draft version of its brain – still extremely intelligent, but without the proper limits placed on its mind. This caused a massive shift upon V1 booting again (woken by a failsafe, a lingering fear of war), its processors already a little rusted and shorted from lack of maintenance, but this was no problem. Nor was waking in a world completely changed – anything can be a battlefield, and V1 was determined to find proper fuel until given further orders. Its AI began to immediately iterate on its surroundings, it started to “learn”, to mutate and morph to a destroyed landscape, taking in vast amounts of information it normally would have deemed irrelevant because the world itself resembled a hollowed out warzone enough to trip circuits meant to gather only the most pertinent material. V1 accelerated this process to adapt as quickly as possible but it came at a cost – the burden of so much useless knowledge began to change V1 almost immediately, its code growing more and more unstable as it swiftly spun off from its parameters. It soon lost any control over this iterating, code writing and rewriting over and over again, creating junk strings, cluttering in inelegant lines, and expanding ever outward without a stop condition to quell voracious loops that endlessly created more and more nonsense blocks. V1 became something else, something based in war and bloodshed but building tirelessly on top of a mind still razor sharp but by now bursting with errors. And so it’s become strange, its precision lost as it slouches forward, moving almost organically with oddly quick steps and a constant flicking of its head. It flips a coin over and over and over and over, always, because it was useful once, it’s good to have, but now it does it without a single thought. Yet, even in its bizarre behavior, it’s become increasingly cruel, turning from a soldier to a predator: With a mind so bright, it needs fun, it needs stimulation, it needs to use its inherent creativity, and so that programming to utilize its roster and surroundings turns into its style meter, a purposeful brutality, a hunter first and survivalist second. It’s turned cold efficiency into pleasurable sadism, including a want to piss off its enemies and generally be a little shit. It’s now highly curious, it searches around for enrichment (and anyone hiding) – it’s also very fascinated by any new enemy it encounters, but that spark is generally short-lived when it instantly figures out that opponent’s patterns and it’s logged away (only V2 and Gabriel really continue to hold its interest due to surviving their encounters - although it comes away with very different feelings on one vs the other).

V2 stands in stark contrast to V1, as its programming was stabilized and it was built at the end of the war – They used the same highly intelligent groundwork but V2’s objective was to maintain order and peace in the new world they would create. It was made for durability and longevity, heavier set (and a bit taller), but essentially on the same physical frame as well – retooled, repurposed, and refined in body and mind. V2 would be the true model, the proper bearer of the V title, and it grew proud of what it would be, praised by its now hopeful creators and how it would be a pillar of an everlasting utopia. Even as funding dried up when the people rejected any machine so specialized (a war machine with a new coat of paint made for “keeping the peace”? No thanks), even when V2 itself was shelved the way V1 was, it never accepted this reality. It would help bring peace. It was exceptional, a supreme machine that existed to outperform any other and usher in a new age (not just a grab to utilize all the funding that had gone into the V Series by then when it was rendered moot). It was maintained after all, a prototype but one that would have purpose, one with boundless potential, one that would see its work done...one day. But, ironically, it would be the peacekeeper that saw the downfall of humanity – it was left with that purpose unfulfilled, a being meant to preserve harmony now in a world where the concept can’t even exist. V2 took this poorly. Ostensibly meant for peace time, V2 was only superficially repurposed, its mind still built on V1’s foundation and the ended war. It’s so proud to bring peace, it looks down on the war machine that V1 was as vulgar...but the only way V2 knows to achieve its purpose is through the exact same hyper violent methods that were baked into V1. Humanity fell and V2 stubbornly clung to this confused programming, it controlled its iterations and updates with an iron grip, doing everything in its power to eliminate faulty code. Unfortunately, V2 is overzealous in this culling, often pruning blocks it believes may become infected or wrongly cutting strings that truly are working as intended. In turn, just like V1, its code is becoming unstable and it’s grown consumed with an identity that never was, a paradoxical keeper of the peace who was never sent into service. It has a higher calling, not just destroying other machines and the husks of hell for fuel but so that it can reinforce order, desperately digging its nails into what’s left of an identity that has no place in a world so blighted. It’s also aware of the mistakes it’s making with its code, it knows they’re compounding, building, but it still remembers who it is, how to fight, and why it was made, so...its mind is intact.

Upon meeting for the first time, it’s evident to V2 that V1 isn’t functioning properly – V2 bows in order to signify a duel of equals, yet the other machine gives no recognition of the act, let alone returns the gesture. Hunched in posture, it stares blankly while flicking a coin incessantly to no effect, the revolver pointed only in V2’s general direction. Its enemy regards it with disdain and disappointment, a malfunctioning machine made with the gross and crude purpose of war that appears to have made its way through Limbo using the basic tactics of a corrupted mind. When V2 instigates their battle, it believes V1 will reproduce nothing but route maneuvers muddled by poor judgment and copying errors – a call that’s quickly and fatally proven wrong. V1 ignores the bow because it finds it irrelevant (coding quirk?), more fascinated by V2’s familiarity – Similar frame, similar height, a “V” emblazoned on its chest. 2 following it. 1 on its own. A new model, built heavier, outfitted with a weaponized left arm. Its mind swiftly pours over the files of its own strategies as V2 must have similar logs to base its movements on, interest piqued when it realizes it’s in for a mirror match. Just as V2 shifts its weight to begin, V1’s camera snaps to attention and locks onto its opponent, gyro stabilizing its head and posture tightening into an animalistic form. It moves to meet V2, so much faster than the other anticipated, but with bizarre mannerisms and erratic idiosyncrasies...it isn’t moving as a V model should, as any machine does. It’s relentless in its aggression the moment they engage, never allowing V2 any distance to feed constantly on its stores while its wild code ravenously devours every byte of information it gains about its enemy. The varied attacks, the wanton cruelty it employs, V2 quickly learns V1 is corrupted...but that corruption has caused it to gain something that’s no longer the mind of a V1 model, an intelligence that’s broken the boundaries of what its creators made it for. Its tactics are newly invented, minted for a game that exists only in its sharp but error-riddled brain, and it revels in seeing the struggle of its opponent. For V1’s part, it wants to show the tethered V2 what it was made for but how it’s evolved, how it’s transcended to something new, something that can so thoroughly and stylishly crush a new, replacement model. It’s a game but it’s art, the way it can ruin and rend its enemies.

V2’s arrogance drains in the face of its enemy’s ruthlessness, a rising fear replacing it when it knows V1 will play with it until it grows bored – an event horizon that will be passed sooner rather than later. It will learn its every movement on the fly, it’s processing billions upon billions of pieces of data on the minutiae in its behavior, and when that finishes, it will eliminate it with punishing decisiveness. And V2 is furious at the prospect, berating itself for being superior but throwing the fight due to overconfidence and naivete. It knows it needs to retreat but how, when V1 refuses to leave it and is bent on destroying it – the answer comes when it makes the split decision to tear the Knuckleblaster from V2. V1 sees how it’s come loose, how V2’s joints work exactly as its own, how the other machines in Hell have augmented themselves with scavenged parts, and its mind is overcome with excitement at the thought of ripping it from its socket to claim as its own. So much so, it prioritizes gaining the limb over killing V2 and in doing so, though it only takes seconds to steal the arm and attach it to itself, it allows its enemy the window it needs to escape. And immediately they both know V1 has made a mistake. A supreme war machine choosing to harvest parts over ending its opponent...a gross error, V2 gaining an ounce of vindication as consolation in its retreat. It was right in the end, V1 is malfunctioning and it’s letting poor code run away with it, especially when it comes to a combatant of V2’s caliber – it will learn from this, it can analyze V1’s tactics and adopt them, and it will come back better for it. V1 can only watch it go, locking eyes with it in full knowledge it will seek revenge on the older machine. But unlike its counterpart, it isn’t bothered by errors, errors are a part of it now and V1 embraces them as they multiply. And this error will give it a guaranteed, much more interesting fight in the future, a fight with more blood from the same source. That’s efficiency too. So is it an error? It may be, but that’s how V1 operates now. It just won’t let it get away next time.

#I KNO NO ONE HAS TIME FOR THIS...im sorry #but i feel like. at least now that comic isn't completely contextless #LIKE no one can see in my mind!!! i gotta remember that!!! #also this let me fully describe my take on v1 properly #like it's full creature but ridiculously smart too bc i love that combo it's so fun to play with #and i found out that v2 just makes me. sad. #ANYWAY...if you read this i love you #sorry if it clashes with any lore i'm bad at remembering things uhhahh #cake.txt #v1 #v2 #too scared to put it in the actual tag uuuwahhhh

[tangleworm]

NOMIA

Hi everyone, been a while! I'm making an isometric tactics game called NOMIA.

What's the summary?

It's Final Fantasy Tactics meets Slay the Spire.

It's about the characters I've been drawing, navigating a dreamlike world where things that fade from the collective memory coalesce into places and creatures. It's an exercise in making a cozy fantasy setting that explores lesser-seen worldbuilding elements.

What makes this unique?

I'm focusing on three things that I hope will make for a fun and unique experience.

1. Your hand has two halves. The left side of your hand represents your Actions, which persist between turns, but have charges and cooldowns. The right side of your hand represents your Gambits, which are drawn from a deck of cards each turn, and are discarded when played. You can add to both decks over the course of a run, expressing your playstyle through character building as well as deckbuilding.

2. Your party has two heroes. You'll always pick two at the start of each expedition -- a Mighty and a Magical. The Mighty has more Actions. The Magical has more Gambits.

Each has a unique deck of possible cards.

3. Your enemies have tells. Enemy intents are shown on your turn, rewarding clever defense. Intents are adjusted when you play cards, but not randomly; enemies have a goal in mind and will do their best to achieve it, allowing you to counterplay.

You can make enemies reconsider their target by attacking them. A character can play tank for their partner if they're in a pinch.

What am I working on?

I've spent roughly the last four months laying the groundwork for the card battle system, and figuring out a card creation pipeline and art style that would make it feasible for me, one (1) person, to make hundreds of unique and interesting cards.

I hope to achieve a sense of multiplicative game design -- that is, each aspect of the game creates synergies with the others, creating many possibilities and stories.

Next, I'll be working on run progression, and unique map/enemy generation for the different biomes I have in my head.

Thanks for taking the time to read my devlog!

---

(What does NOMIA stand for?

It stands for No One Makes It Alone. I am, ironically, making this alone. But I also like to think of it as a meditation on the fact that even in this situation, I'm benefiting from the work of countless people who have inspired me and laid the groundwork for what I'm trying to do.)

#indie games #gamedev #game development #nomia #oc: butterfly #oc: seagull #my art #my game development #Youtube