#do I poison my brain further yes or no

[darkclouds-rainsounds]

“Someday, I'll solve every riddle in the legends of Hisui's Pokémon. And on that day, I'll stand before Arceus at last— No, I will CONQUER it! No matter how many years, how many decades, how many centuries it takes me!”

Rambling Musing under cut

[Addition to this concept]

I can't have been the only person who thought of this; of Volo having died sometime not all that long after the battle at Spear Pillar and because of his excessive spite and hatred, he would come back as a Hisuian Zoroark. I have seen quite a few people do this concept with Akari where she ends up dying during her exile, but I haven't seen it done with Volo after Spear Pillar where he would be at his most vulnerable.

There was one person who had a similar idea whose username I can't remember nor care to, who had an idea (au concept???) of Volo having been a Zoroark the whole time who wanted a better world out of missing the way things used to be pre-human civilization (subtle way of saying he hates humans settling in Hisui and bridging the gap between themselves and pokemon).

Like, I know this is pokemon of all things, but considering the literal fact I made a psycho-analysis of Volo that would prompt practically everyone into going "It's not that deep", I always found it a little too perfect how if one is a believer of the hiker theory or just has any headcanon that he didn't die, that means Volo somehow survived the worst of what was to come after Spear Pillar.

After Spear Pillar, he was emotionally and mentally exhausted and very much not in his right mind because Arceus decided to be a jackass and summon the Azure Flute the moment the spooky plate made its way into the player's hands and set him off again after he calmed down. The anger; the rage and absolute vitriol he felt towards Arceus and still yet so, the player, was still relatively fresh and with his defeat and loss of his greatest ally in getting to Arceus (I mean, I get why he yelled at Giratina but also 🤨?????), that left very large room for recklessness and acting illogically.

Not only that, but with the likelihood that the clans and Galaxy team would catch wind sooner or later that he was the one who opened the rift and nearly destroyed the world by accident in the process then explicitly tried to do so again on purpose, he wouldn't be accepted in any settlement. This also applies to the Ginko Guild: they would want absolutely nothing to do with him once they find out as he'd be a blemish upon their reputation.

So you have a very bitter, very not mentally stable man trying to survive in the wilderness of Hisui almost entirely alone. It's a miracle that in terms of the hiker theory, he manages to survive past that, because the most likely thing that would have happened was him dying— like I can't convey to you just how lucky he was.

But this is ~pokemon~ so of course that didn't happen despite Volo being surprisingly realistic for a character. And to that I query, "what if it did?"

So here we are back at the beginning, Volo died and came back as a Hisuian Zoroark due to his overwhelming spite and hate.

How?

With what I've said previously, I decided that his death would be in the Alabaster Icelands. With there being very dangerous pokemon around, random holes in the ground with steep drops that can easily injure or kill you if you aren't watching where you're going, and deadly blizzards, death is guaranteed for the unprepared. Why would Volo go up that far north if it's so dangerous then— SHH SHUT! I am trying to convey an idea, the minute intricacies are lost on me right now. All I can imagine as of current is that Volo was in the Alabaster Icelands for one reason or another, something happened that was out of his and his pokemon's control and they couldn't save him (I'll tell you this: the cold on its own isn't what would kill him, otherwise his death wouldn't occur because he has his Arcanine.), and he came back as a Zoroark.

Part of the reason for the Alabaster Icelands is that I'm fairly certain? that only those who die— normal Zorua, Zoroark, or humans— there can become Hisuian Zoroark. If they die anywhere else regardless of the other criteria being met I'm pretty sure they can't become Hisuian Zoroarks, so Volo would have to be in the Alabaster Icelands for this to happen to him.

One can only imagine the grief his pokemon felt when they realized the oddly yellow Hisuian Zorua by their trainer's frozen corpse was their trainer. How they would feel that if they knew sooner or were out before it happened, his death would have been avoided. How Lucario, a pokemon that can sense aura, and his beloved Togekiss (because Gamefreak said fuck any visible notion his Roserade cares about him I guess), would instantly know that the Zorua was him.

Now,

for explanations on his appearance and his personality. Since I am unable to draw this digitally without it being immensely more difficult than it should be, I will have to heavily hint towards the symbolism since rarely ever do I draw or write something that is straightforward.

•His color pallette is still a lot like the normal Hisuian Zoroark, aka very white, but the typically red areas in a Hisuian Zoroark's hair and fur are instead the same blonde yellow as his hair from when he was alive. (White and yellow instead of yellow and white huh?)

•The eyes don't look as... narrow... as they should. Strange...

•Is it just me, or does this Zoroark not look as... wispy, as the others?

•Since I do not use color traditionally, I will have to say that the bulbous black areas on his arms and legs are supposed to be a dark red-brown and not a bright red. Hm, wonder why...

•He just has more scars because I personally headcanon Volo as actually having quite a few scars and had that directly translate into his Zoroark appearance.

And now for something lighter (by my standards atleast).

•Upon his becoming a Hisuian Zorua, he gained the ability to understand pokemon and speak with them on their level.

•It took a while for him to figure out how to talk human languages again (like pokeani meowth) and even longer to do so so it sounds natural and not... off (again, pokeani meowth)

•Very spiteful and angry little ball of fluff that simmered down faster than he would have in the even that he didn't die. Since, y'know, your death ultimately being caused by your hatred will make you reevaluate a few things about yourself.

•Loathed not having hands until evolving which only gave him three claws but it's better than useless bitty paws.

•Him calming down much faster and realizing how damaging he was being to himself and to his pokemon by tunnel visioning on figuring out how to usurp Arceus and seeing anything else that wasn't that as being in his way— provided much relief to his team that the person they knew and loved was coming back and not what he was twisting himself into in his downward spiral. (Again, this does happen when he lives, it just takes years rather than like... one)

•Took time to learn how to master casting illusions but the only illusion he can really even do at this point is of himself when he was alive. (Other Hisuian Zoroarks: able to do countless illusions of people and pokemon to varying degrees of accuracy. Hisuian Zoroark!Volo: can only do an illusion of himself but it's absolutely flawless)

•Wears his Celestica pendant at all times (forgot to draw it, don't want to deal with wrestling with my camera phone to retake the picture)

•He also wears his backpack and hat as well; they're not part of the illusion (didn't draw them since I 1. don't know how to draw either and 2. wanted him to be as unobscured as possible)

•He can still be the hiker, it's just that he's a ghost rather than immortal. Yes, his friendly, charismatic demeanor has returned despite him being like this now but there is the difference of a layer of somberness underneath and an even thinner layer of well-concealed vitriol towards Arceus and Arceus alone. (If you've read my post on Quincent and how I interpret Banettes, the same principal of spite functioning as fuel for a flame applies to Hisuian Zoroarks as well. However it is a bit different in that where a grudge functions as the fuel for Banettes animation, spite functions as the tether for Hisuian Zoroarks not moving on in the afterlife. It could be considered "unfinished business" but it's not really the same)

•Yes, this also means his illusion was changed to be that of what he would look like as a hiker rather than when he was in the Ginko Guild (he had figured out that illusion a long time ago since him being mistakenly affiliated with the Guild would be bad and eventually the uniform would become outdated as the Guild would no longer exist in the state it did when he was still alive at the least and would cause people to look at him weirdly)

•Had to get really good at not responding and talking to pokemon or else he garner unwanted attention.

•Can maintain the illusion through being touched so long as he anticipates it, otherwise he kinda just goes poof.

•The illusion obviously goes away when he's asleep and starts to wane when he's tired.

•He maintains the illusion for as long as he can upon awakening but it is incredibly draining on him to focus on maintaining it for such a long stretch of time that he does end up tired far quicker than if he simply didn't do it for so long or so often.

•Can also partially cast the illusion and look uncannily inhuman. +The illusion starts to wane when he's experiencing strong emotions since he can't focus on maintaining it and it's kinda terrifying to see some guy slowly be engulfed in billowing smoke with no known source out of nowhere and watch his features warp and shift into something very much not human.

•His moveset does not contain bitter malice by the time of pokemon platinum.

(•Just for those wondering, no he doesn't blame Akari/Dawn in any way for his death and very much acknowledges it to be no one's fault but his)

•There is also the question of "if Volo is Cynthia's ancestor but he died before he could have children, does she just not exist?" and the answer is: she still does, but she's Cogita's direct descendant now and not Volo's. (wtf is up with Celestica genes? Yeah a lot of the other characters in PLA have descendants that look almost identical to them, but with Cogita, Volo, and Cynthia, we have three people from a single bloodline that have MANY generations between them— that is, if you headcanon Cogita as being Volo's ancestor— and they hardly look any different. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEIR GENES??? Also forgot about Cynthia's sister who doesn't have a canon design but if Cynthia is any indication...

•Ghost types have the ability of distinctly knowing something's up when he's casting the illusion of himself and basically look at him like '🤨'. Kinda difficult to keep a straight face when a swarm of gastly are just staring unblinkingly at you like "tf is this". +Normal living Zoroarks can instantly tell that he isn't human and get the wrong idea thinking he's trying to trick someone rather than him clinging to the humanity he had.

#【𝙿 𝚁 𝙸 𝚂 𝙼】 #volo #didn't want to add further extraneous information in the main post but #i /do/ hc that arceus created the celestica in its image and that their hair floats upward after reaching a certain length #(why part of volo's hair remains down when the bun is undone) and that all celestica have grey eyes and blonde hair that gradually becomes #more and more white as they age‚ but this is kinda ridiculous when it comes to how potent their genes are #just.... arceus that is /vanity/. it took who knows how many generations between volo and cynthia with his descendants procreating with #other non-celestica to create cynthia whose hair only curls up at the very ends and not all of it. again same thing likely applies to her #sister. like.... w/ the other pla characters we just have them + the descendant so the fact they look alike isn't as baffling as three very #distanced generations. then there's the pla characters that barely have a resemblance to anyone in the future #like some ppl hc that may is irida's descendant bc of the hair‚ some ppl hc that leon and hop are laventon's descendants #i strongly hc that penny is melli's descendant bc they literally have the same eyeshape and considering melli used to be a self-conscious #shy kid just like penny before becoming a prick as an adult‚ penny is probably what he was like as a kid‚ snark and all + the shyness #(don't get me started on her having a friendship evo and the only pkmn that evolves through love as her ace whereas melli's golbat refuses #to evolve bc it doesn't like him all that much & his pkmn are poison which are the weakness to penny's ace sylveon which is fairy) #i kinda halfway hc that adaman is arven's ancestor due to that one fanart of arven having his hair pulled back and styled like adaman's and #i was like 🤔 he /does/ kinda look like him‚ huh. but that's so funny actually bc arven's parents look nothing like adaman which only #implies adaman just went 'YOU don't get my genes and YOU don't get my genes‚ but you? you're cool' ahshdjdan #yes i just used the tags to talk abt this instead of putting it in the main post bc if i didn't talk about it at all my brain would be mad

[tan1shere]

Too Late

Ellie Williams x female reader

A/n: it's just one of those days for angst 😍 I put my whole heart into this I hope you all enjoy it <3 also did the paragraphs differently idk which layout I should do. This or my normal one...

Summary: Ellie was blind to it all. But so were you. Blind by her sweet little remarks, sucked in. You fell first but she fell incredibly harder once she realized she'd lost you entirely.

Warnings: not much just angsty angst my friends. NO HAPPY ENDING hehehe sorry not sorry ;)

Masterlist

Tears threatening to spill. For what felt like the thousandth time that week, you've been crying your heart out. Yes that's right, crying over someone who doesn't even glance at you, the way you would like. Doesn't even want anything to do with you... The way you'd like. How could you be so stupid to fall, to cry when they haven't even done anything. Ellie williams, your best friend. Well not right now. You two have been drifting and it hurt like anything. Shes very affectionate towards you, so much that at some points you wonder if she could ever like you for more. You were very stupid to think that even for a second.

Sitting in your room, alone. Text after text. You just wanted to wither away into thin air. Your eyes stung from the constant truckle of tears. But what hurt more, were the texts weren't even from the one person you wanted it to be. You were a bit younger than Ellie, so maybe she just thought of you as a child. That roamed around your brain for what felt like hours. Overthinking to the absolute max. You just wish your brain would zip it. Stop talking to you, just stop. It was silly to think that someone as amazing as her, would ever go for a wreck like you. Turning over in your bed, trying to get your brain to stop antagonizing you.

Fast forward a few days later, you were in your last class of the day, eyes droopy. Dark. Sore. Every possible thing that wasn't good. You were pale from lack of sun, just genuinely looking dead. Exactly how you felt deep inside. Dead. Dead. DEAD. "Y/n?" You get pulled out of your depressing thoughts by a voice. Her voice. You swallow, worried if you look at her you might break and crumble. You turn around looking at your feet, avoiding everything. "Hey, you haven't been in classes recently." You close your eyes for a split second praying that in some random universe this was all a silly dream.

That you were safe in your bed, dreaming this all. But no, ofcourse not. This was reality, she was talking to you and all you wanted to do was puke. Hurl. Your mind was racing. "Everything alright?" Your mouth goes dry, feeling like you can't form any words. You really were dead. So you do the only thing you could think of and just nod. "Babe are you sure?" There it was. That hope. That name. You kept everything in you not to let go completely and just run off to your small apartment, as you didn't live on campus. You finally look up at her, going to be strong as you had finished for the day. Not long to go now. "I'm sure. Just tired." She nods. "Ok well I want you to come with me this avo, I'm having a small party at mine. I miss you, please come."

Does she not understand what she's doing to your little heart. You feel it break more, every single day. You don't know how much longer you can keep going until it fully breaks in half. Jagged edges pinching your organs with that sting of pain. Or do you get over it once that's happened, maybe you want her to hurt you just that much, so even if you're broken you have nothing left to give. No more worries. "Yeah maybe." You go to leave not wanting to continue this any further. But she grabs your wrsit stopping you. "Please. I've missed you these past few weeks. And I have something really exciting to show you." For the first time in what felt like a decade you smile.

She was poisoning you. Your tiny heart started to mend again. Heartbreaking as it was you still loved her so much. You were inlove with her. "Okay, I'll be there." You were still so stupid.

Later on rolled round pretty quickly, your spark had come back again, you still looked like a bit of a mess but nothing a little makeup couldn't fix. Hiding those bags, and dark circles. You decided to wear something cute, maybe in hopes she'd fully see you for you. As you were approaching the dorm room that Ellie lived in you were smiling ear to ear, then suddenly everything in you fades. The door was open music booming, people everywhere. But you saw her. And she wasn't alone. A pretty girl was perched on her lap, they were laughing. Everything went buzzy. Your ears, numb. Your body. She sees you and smiles. Coming over to you hand in hand with this girl.

She looks to be Ellies age. Making your overthinking come face to face with you, as it was true. "Hey, you came! Id like you to meet Layla." You stare at both of them unsure of how to even process anything right now. Your brain was muddled. Hurt. So hurt. Your heart ached. The girl doesn't really say much she just smiles. You get a gross feeling. But you being you. You stay silent. Letting it hurt quietly, not wanting to ruin how happy she looks. But it isn't with you. You gulp thickly. Wanting to do nothing but go home and melt into your sheets.

"I- uhm. I have to go." You abruptly say, letting your small body wisk off, you get into your car and sit there. Feeling like a broken bone, not yet sunk in as the shock still consumes you. But when it hits you. It hits hard. You sob, cry. Break down, putting your head on the steering wheel as you let your heart out. You had gotten your hopes up. Again. In hopes that she'd love you like you loved her. You hit the steering wheel, sobbing with every bit of strength you have left. And just like that your heart was fully broken, no amount of super glue would fix it. No, nothing would fix the ache. The sting. You let out a pained scream as you rest your head back, knowing you can't drive like this.

You get out your phone and call for an Uber, you could pick up your car in the morning when you felt a bit better. But who are you kidding you'd never feel good ever again. It's like the person in you has just deflated. Gone. As you get out you hear her voice. You don't even know if it was a dream or reality. But you didn't care for the calls you couldn't. "What the hell was that." You then hear. You stop in your tracks. Is she really going to be putrid right now. "What...?" You don't turn around. "You heard me, what the fuck is up with you lately." You start to cry more, frustration starting to fuel your body. You slowly turn around. "Are you stupid Williams.." She squints at you. "Excuse me?" You stay silent. Not even sure what to say to her.

"Babe. Just talk to m-" That's when you lost it. "No. NO. stop fucking calling me that. God Ellie. After all these years you don't even fucking know me!" You get a bit sidetracked, letting everything in. "Dont stand there calling me that, you don't know how much it hurts me. When your off with someone else, leaving me behind you say you miss me but where were your texts huh? You're the only one I wanted texts from. I only wanted you." She was speechless. "But no, I'm not going to stand here and argue with you, because if anything im mad at myself. Glad you're happy." Your Uber had pulled up in time. You get in not even looking at her as the vehicle drives off.

Numb. Empty. Dead. You felt emotionless the next day. You truly had no tears left to cry. Like it has been your eyes hurt. But this time, you didn't even care. It was sort of soothing. Comforting to know you could atleast feel something. You hadn't moved that whole night. Hadn't slept. Just laying there. Your theory was right. Your heart was now fully broken, it felt exactly how you had imagined it to. You had nothing left to give. But you were glad about that. Ellie broke your heart to the point where you just lost all that love for her. It was just gone. You scrunch your face up at the sound of a car parking outside. It sounded exactly like your car. And you were greeted with the sound of a knock on your door.

Confusion strikes you. You slowly, emotionlessly. Get up and head over to it. You're greeted with that one person you never wanted to see again. And yet, you don't even care for her arrival. Nor ask why the hell she's even here. You just move, heading back inside and leaving the door open for her to do what she wanted. You did not care. "Hi..." She speaks softly. Your cold, dark. You don't say a word. "I uhm. I had a spare key of yours that you had given me in case of anything so." Silence. Nothing. You go into your kitchen grabbing a glass of water. Was the only thing you felt like. "Me and her aren't..-" She sighs. "She was just using me to make her ex boyfriend jealous and, well. It worked." You turn your head to slightly look at her.

"B- Y/n I'm so fucking sorry-" You don't even know what came over you but you speak. "I'm not inlove with you anymore." She stares at you for a second, letting out another sigh. "I didn't know you were." She responds. You look into her eyes, yours drained and tired. Full of nothing for her, or anyone else in this world for that matter. She saw it now. She didn't the other day because she was so hung up on something that deep down she knew wouldn't end well. She's full of regret, hatred for herself. How could she not of seen any of it. "I can make this up to you, I genuinely want to be with you also-" You then look at her, making her shut up for some reason, worried about your reaction or response. "Guess it's too late for that." Her face drops, watching you going into your room, shutting the door behind you. Leaving Ellie stunned in your living room. Knowing she's lost you for good.

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams angst

[starsfic]

Xiaotian did not, in fact, stop liking poisons.

its a genuine coincidence, when he smells poison in somebody else's food.

"Chef Zhu, I need you to not panic. We're at the hospital."

Contrary to Long Taitai's words, Pigsy felt panic twist his stomach. "Is Xiaotian alright?! Why are you at the hospital?!" Tang jerked his face out of his book on the other side of the bar, eyes wide. "What happened?!"

The dragon woman sighed on the other end, and Pigsy felt concern mixed with panic. In his opinion, Mrs. Long had always been a touch snooty, never allowing what she felt to show on her face. She allowed Xiaotian to play with her kid, Long Xiaojiao, and let Tang in to study the Long collection of artifacts for his research and, as far as he knew, never said anything unkind, but there was just an aura. Right now, he couldn't sense that aura.

"A person who I assumed was a friend tried to poison my family," Mrs. Long explained. Pigsy wasn't sure what expression he had at that tidbit, but Tang looked even more worried. "I cannot explain further over the phone. Could you please come to the hospital on Third and Lotus Street? We brought Xiaotian here at the authorities' request and they need you."

"Sure," Pigsy said, realizing that she couldn't see him nod. "Yeah, hang on, I'll be there in a sec." Before Mrs. Long could answer, he hung up. "Tang, look after the shop. Xiaotian ate poison again."

Before his boyfriend could respond, Pigsy was already out the door.

-_-

The Li Nezha Hospital had to be the fanciest hospital Pigsy had ever seen. However, that didn't matter. What did matter was being led into the private room and hear Xiaotian's delighted "Dadsy!"

They sat on the couch, Xiaojiao next to them and holding their hand. Mr. Long was holding Xiaojiao's other hand, his eyes red. Mrs. Long was nowhere to be seen.

"They're in perfect health, shockingly enough." The doctor explained. "They ate enough cyanide to kill two full-grown adults on the spot. Although," They flipped the papers. "According to their medical history, that has been covered already."

Pigsy nodded. "Yep. They keep trying to eat rat poison."

"It's spicy!" Xiaotian called from the bed.

The doctor's brows furrowed. "I see." They glanced at the papers and they furrowed even more. "Mr. Zhu, have you had a-"

"DNA test? Yep." The authorities had done about ten of them- eight were for trying to find the small mud-stained toddler's parents while the other two were after the third poison-eating incident. All were inconclusive. "If they have yaogaui heritage, it's nothing in the database."

"I'm a mystery!"

"Yes, you are."

"Well, the justice department does want to keep at least the children here, at least overnight," the doctor explained. "They want to see if they can get a sample of the cyanide from Xiaotian's stool and pee and make sure that Xiaojiao didn't ingest any of the cyanide herself."

Pigsy nodded. "Okay, I can do that."

The doctor led him out to sign the right papers and that was where he saw Mrs. Long.

Her eyes were also red, but she looked ready to throw the phone in her hands. Pigsy waved, and she immediately headed straight towards him. "Thank you," were her first words. "If it wasn't for Xiaotian, I am sure neither I nor my family would still be here."

Pigsy nodded. "No thanks needed. Just..." he sighed, rubbing his brow. "What happened?"

"I cannot give all the details since it's a live case," Mrs. Long said, tucking her phone into her pocket. Pigsy nodded in understanding and she continued. "But I received a box of chocolates from a family friend. The plan was to have them for dessert. Xiaotian and Xiaojiao found them, and the nursemaid found them after Xiaotian ate them all." A smile tugged on her lips. "She told me that the chocolate on them had a strange almond smell, since my husband is allergic to almonds."

"Yeah, I remember that."

"Something in my brain told me to call the justice department and the poison control officers identified the cyanide in them." Mrs. Long's smile faded. "If Xiaotian hadn't found them, according to the officer, my family and I would be experiencing an extremely unpleasant death."

Pigsy felt a shiver roll down his back. He didn't exactly like Mr. and Mrs. Long, but the thought of anyone suffering a death like that was enough to make him nauseous. Xiaojiao was so small...

"I'm sorry this happened." He pulled out his wallet. "I can repay you for the chocolates-"

"No need." Mrs. Long chuckled, her smile returning. Her aura of snootiness was gone, replaced with an unfamiliar warmth. "I already promised the children that we could go out for ice cream once the hospital released them, if that's alright with you."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

She laughed. "Fair. Hopefully, the ice cream's less poisonous."

"Yeah."

Although Xiaotian wouldn't mind...

#my writing #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Mrs. Long #Pigsy #Qi Xiaotian #Long Xiaojiao #Mr. Long #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt fic

[moony-2001]

Lore Olympus ep. 254 critique

Well I can officially say that Persephone is the most selfish person in the comic

What in the Disney ripoff

So obviously it’s too late and Zeus is poisoned and ✨wow, how convenient✨ Apollo is suddenly there with Leto (who btw we haven’t seen in almost 100 episodes). I don't really want to focus on his confrontation with Eros and Psyche, because let's be real, it wasn't much of a confrontation. No, instead I want to focus on this:

My first thought when I saw the whole blackmail scene coupled with this was "What in the Lion King is this bullshit." Seriously. This is almost verbatim to what Scar says to Simba (except Scar as a villain is actually intimidating and Apollo, well...).

But here's the thing. This is how stupid Apollo is as a villain. Hebe has the least to gain from Zeus' poisoning and death. Look at the list of children that could stand to benefit from Zeus' demise:

An angry War god who was banished to the mortal realm for years by Zeus for pissing him off. Additionally, Zeus slept with his then-romantic partner and was implied to sleep with her often

The estranged daughter who literally thrives on chaos and is basically the goddess of "it's getting a little too chummy around here" who has beef with not only Zeus, but also Hera

A newly revealed son who has a tendency to heavily push boundaries and can't take no for an answer. This son additionally has been making moves to gain power politically

Compare this to Hebe, who we have only seen being kind to Zeus. No where in the comic is she seen harboring any kind of resentment towards him. Even when she criticizes him, it is gentle and she doesn’t push any further when he lays down the law.

Not only that but the whole prophecy- the usurp of power prophecy that Uranus got about Kronos, and Kronos got about his children, and so on- only applies to the sons of the tyrant in question. That was established in the myths, both in the Theogony and the Metamorphosis via a prophecy that usually came from Gaia. So that immediately takes Eris off the suspect list by virtue of the fact that she is a goddess. But even then, Hebe still shouldn't be a suspect.

How is Rachel expecting people to fall for this? Even her audience in some respect is calling out Apollo for being "back on his bullshit". Yet I can almost guarantee that everyone is going to fall for it because the only 2 gods who actually know are trapped in jail, Cassandra is probably going to disappear from the narrative for a while, and the rest of the general cast of characters only shares 2 brain cells between the lot of them. I can't wait to see this drag out over the course of, like, 15 episodes.

The most selfish thing

I just… wow. I have no words. Except yes I do or otherwise I wouldn’t be making this post. So we transition to the second half of the chapter where Persephone talks about her nonexistent connection with the snow and how maybe, just maybe, this is all her. Just like her act of wrath and what she did to Minthe, she has no one to blame but herself. And then she straight up goes “nah”.

I will be the first to admit, the way Rachel wrote Demeter during Persephone's homecoming/proposal was horrific. Demeter behaved horribly to Persephone. Now, I more blame Rachel for poor writing because if you have to make side characters look worse so your protagonists can look better, you suck at writing. BUT that does not excuse Demeter's initial actions and behavior toward Persephone.

However, in this situation, Demeter is not putting Persephone down for what she’s done. Obviously, Demeter is distressed, but she basically says “You tried, but now it’s time for the adults to handle it” and Hades agrees. He fucking agrees.

Demeter is far more capable and mature than Persephone due to being around for thousands of years. Demeter has had experience, she’s worked hard at maintaining everything, and she has even had hardships and failures. But because of this, she is a very very powerful goddess. Thus it makes the most sense for Demeter to step in to handle this situation. It is what's best for everyone, most of all for the mortal realm, which has been immediately affected.

But because Persephone has been told over and over that she’s hot shit, she's special (and has been treated as such), her ego can’t take the blow. She can’t take the L. She makes everything worse because she can’t stand the idea that she’s not special and that she's not this big bad goddess who has control over her abilities.

To me, this is so selfish. Persephone acknowledges that everything is dead. She acknowledges that she is the cause of this destruction. Yet she knowingly makes it worse because her ego can not handle the fact that she isn’t miss fucking perfect. This is the epitome of a child’s temper tantrum- like how when Nemo swims out to sea to touch the boat after Marlin tells him he can't do it. Because that’s what Persephone is. A child. In this case, it does not matter that she’s the age of an adult mortal woman. She is a god. She hasn’t even been around for 100 years. She still doesn’t have a handle on her powers. Persephone is being immature and selfish by stomping her feet and going “No, I can do it." Because of that, she makes everything so much worse.

Hades naturally makes this worse by enabling her. Although I genuinely can’t say I’m surprised since Hades has a history (especially post-marriage) of enabling Persephone’s bad behavior (like rewarding Persephone with sex after destroying the apartment of Leuce and threatening to kill her). When asked rightfully by Demeter if he’s going to do anything to try and talk her off the wall since Persephone has a history of not listening to anything Demeter has to say, Hades basically goes “Nah, my hands are tied, nothing I can do”, Despite the fact that he saw the destruction she caused and ACKNOWLEDGED IT WAS TIME FOR THE ACTUAL ADULTS TO STEP IN. This could’ve been a great moment for someone who wasn’t portrayed as a force against H&P (like the main love interest/husband) to hold her accountable. To say “That’s enough”. But nooooooo. No one, not even her own husband, is allowed to get in Persephone’s way.

Thus, Persephone continues to cause mass destruction and death until she passes out (this is important to note) and Demeter rightfully loses her damn shit.

Final thoughts

This is, I think, the worst chapter of Lore Olympus. Genuinely. As I stated in my last post, I had no idea where Rachel was going to take the whole “Persephone causes winter” idea and that there was no way she could make it more feminist than the original hymn. And boy was I right. Because I guess nothing is more feminist to Rachel than an ego-fueled power trip that results in the death of life in the mortal realm and also probably a good portion of the mortals who probably aren’t built to handle this kind of weather (by Persephone’s own admission that the mortal realm doesn’t get cold).

I'd also like to end on this note: if you're going to be a writer or artist or comic writer, don't treat your audience like they're fucking stupid.

Remember that little note I made about how it's important to remember that Persephone passes out? Yeah, well, that's because Persephone is actually unconscious and not dead. In literature and media today, people often use some version of the phrase "you've killed [x]" as a way to say not that whatever [x] is, is actually dead, but that it died in a metaphorical sense. You see a great example of this in the season finale of Arcane with Jinx. Powder doesn't actually die; Jinx is still very much alive. But Jinx metaphorically obliterated Powder to make room for the new her. The new Jinx, unburdened by her old self.

And that's what Demeter is saying. Hell, Hades even said that Persephone wasn't dead after presumably checking her vitals. Anyone who read the chapter would recognize this. But I guess Rachel thinks her audience doesn't have more than a 4th-grade level of reading comprehension because why else would she put in this, frankly demeaning, message at the end.

Oh boy. Welp. See y'all in my next post.

#anti lore olympus #anti lo persephone #lo critical #unpopular lo #unpopular lore olympus #anti lo #lo hate #lore olympus critical #lo critic #lore olympus criticism #I showed my friend this and they were appalled #and my friend doesn't even read LO

[merakiui]

Omg that last thought tickled about sick reader w trey tickled me soooooooo good 😭

I raise you this!!! Darling hates the taste of medicine, so trey tells her he'll use his unique magic disguise it to have the flavour of her favourite juice. Little does she know, trey has literally just been giving her juice and lying about it being medicine the whole time 😭😭

Omggg and visits to Doctor Riddle??? Riddle is totally in on the whole thing and is secretly giving trey advice on how to keep you jussttt sick enough to keep you entirely dependent on him without putting you in any true danger. Maybe the two of them really crank up the dramatics by helping you to slowly get better, and then as soon as you start to misbehave too much, it's back to square one.

Sometimes your head gets so loopy and gone that while you let trey bathe you, you're not entirely aware of everything he's doing to your body 😭😭

You and that anon are so big brained for this. I really like this trope because I've always been quite sickly (it's something that seems to run in my family.) When I don't feel well I'm literally soooo whiney and clingy and I *need* someone to hold me, and I get the feeling that trey, Floyd, Riddle and rook in particular are the ones who would eat that shit up

OOOOOO YES YES OTL

It’s such a good trope, especially for Trey and (doctor) Riddle! They’re so logical and level-headed most of the time, but rational thought is thrown out the window when you come into the picture. Trey has done so much for Riddle, so Riddle feels as if he needs to return the favor somehow, even if that means compromising your health for the sake of returning goodwill. And you have to trust Doctor Riddle because of his credentials! He’s a doctor! He’d never lie to you! It’s his job to help you get better, and sometimes you do get better. But then you’ll push Trey away when he tries to get close to you or you’ll try to run away; and now you’re bedridden once again. :( it’s a vicious cycle you fail to realize because you’re so certain you just have poor health.

Omg and being unaware while Trey bathes you because your head is so foggy and you’re so sleepy… aaaaa normally Trey tries to be good and keep his hands to himself. He doesn’t want to do anything you might dislike him for, but you’re so out of it when you sit in the bath, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes. And he’s so tempted to do more than just washing. He limits himself to lingering touches when you’re in this state, his fingers never going any further than he intends them to. Though he wants to feel more of you, preferably inside you, he holds himself back. He likes you, and sometimes he feels guilty about that because he likes you too much.

Or maybe he holds himself back for all of one week before he realizes he can successfully get away with more than just groping. :) maybe he even knocks you up during one of these times and neither of you realize it until Trey starts suspecting it when you exhibit certain symptoms; and now suddenly your health is no longer declining. Now you have to be healthy and well for the baby, and Trey and Riddle can no longer keep you sick, lest they somehow harm the baby with their interferences.

Omg I agree that Rook and Floyd also work for this trope! Although I also feel like Jade enjoys it just a little more than Floyd. Floyd likes it when you’re needy and clingy; Jade likes the idea of being in total control of you when he intentionally makes you sicker and weaker. I also think Vil would be good for this trope! He knows his way around poisons and curses. :) he could easily utilize this knowledge to keep you just weak enough to rely on and love him while still allowing you to feel like yourself most of the time.

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #tw: noncon touching #tw: pregnancy mention

[15minlatewithbatbucks]

Bats usually keep an eye on large gatherings in Gotham, but in this case Bruce literally can't pay them enough to do their jobs.

---

In Gotham, large gatherings are always risky business. With half a dozen big name rogues with half a dozen screws loose, things can get out of hand FAST.

So yes, forgive Bruce if he likes having at least two bats or birds on the scene when people group together and make themselves easy targets.

His rag-tag group of children, adult or otherwise, usually agree with him. But in this case-

"I'm not going out of my way to help anti-gay protestors," Tim says before Bruce even let's himself think about which of his partners in anti crime he would like at his back. "I'm the one that green-lit the Wayne Enterprises gay agenda that they're protesting."

"That's... Fair."

And it was! Bruce was hardly going to force his bisexual son to save people that would tear him down if given half the chance. He'd demanded far too selflessness of Tim already.

It was just... No one else was volunteering either.

---

Dick, alerted by Tim about the group of anti-gay protestors planning their little event on Facebook, takes one look at Bruce approaching and shakes his head.

"I've heard what they said about my baby brother," he cautions before Bruce can say anything.

Tim, out and secure in his identity, doesn't care what any civilians have to say about him. Dick, deeply angry and protective, cares very much what slander people sling at his little brother.

Bruce, understanding that maybe his eldest was getting better about managing his anger, but deeply unwilling to test his resolve, nods and backs away.

---

Damian is his next choice, though he doesn't hold very high hopes for him either.

"Father, I will not be responsible for the safety of fools willingly endangering themselves," Damian says, reasonably and Bruce is glad to hear it. He has a whole speech about protecting civilians even if they act in defiance of their own safety. It's blown to pieces when Damian explains further. "I've already taken the liberty of inviting Jon and his paramour to heckle them."

"No metas in Gotham," Bruce says before his brain can catch up to his mouth. "This is already a tense situation and-"

"No metas in Gotham," Damian repeats, pitching his voice lower as he mocks his father. "What do you propose Duke is, Father?"

This is an argument he isn't willing to have. Not right now. He puts a pin in it and reaches out to Jon to politely request that he doesn't make an appearance at the protest. Jon concedes in exchange for his permission to come to Gotham's pride event next week. Bruce gives it under the stipulation that Jon and Jay let him give them a full primer on Gotham rogues and how to counter them.

---

Stephanie is somehow warned in advance and texts him before he can reach out to her.

"sorry not sorry, if doctors in Texas can choose to let people die then so can I. ask someone else to help w your homophobe problem"

Bruce wants to point out that is a gross simplification of the fraught political state of Texas. He also wants to point out that they are nowhere near Texas.

He wonders about the feasibility of sponsoring abortion access and trans healthcare in another state if only because it is GENUINELY funny when bigots with talk shows get into a tizzy over Brucie Wayne.

He lets the thought lie for the moment.

---

Duke hears him out, at least, before telling him that he's really sorry, B, but he's gonna be sick that day. It's all very sad, has he tried to talk to Jason?

---

Cass looks at him. He looks at her. They both know she won't be his backup.

---

He hates to say it, but Jason WAS his last choice in this situation. Not for lack of trust or faith in his abilities, but because-

"I'm asking Aunt Harley to have Poison Ivy start a pollen induced gay orgy," he says bluntly when Bruce asks if Jason would be busy on the day of the protest.

"At the-"

"At Wayne Enterprises, for the protest. Yes. Stay away if you value your heterosexuality, old man."

Bruce, remembering his college days and the types of things he's gotten up to in his own time, doesn't correct his son. Revealing that his father was intimately familiar with gay sex isn't a conversation Bruce ever wanted to have with Jason. Or anyone else.

Bruce, wisely, lets the police handle the protest.

#tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #dc pride #batfamily #long post #my writing tag #once again this is coming to you live from my phone rip to everyone

[idontknowreallywhy]

This one accosted me while I was trying to write something else (which appears to be A Pattern for me and writing… well… anything actually). It is very much inspired by many enjoyable conversations / informal therapy sessions with @astranite who shares my “what’s really going on with Scott” headcanon, and at the same time helped me figure out what might be going on with me too. Thank you for everything and for helping me nudge this into something shareable.

It’s also inspired by @sofasurf’s amazing set of fics about Scott’s struggles in the early days post Jeff disappearing. It’s absolutely right that after an initial crisis his brothers and grandma would have put in measures to stop him needing to work so hard and bear it all alone and I love how she tells that story.

And yet… we have Scott who 6 years later is still up late sat at that thrice-darned desk.. brothers aside, he’s CEO of a company that would employ a lot of competent people to sort out all the nitty gritty paperwork. So why is he still frequently found asleep there 6 years on?

This is my attempt to figure out some of the Reason… and not in any way a side quest distracting me from my own Big Document nemesis. Nope.

It is, however, 99% projection for which I hope you’ll forgive me. Hopefully it’s not too out of character.

Sort of an emotional hurt-comfort thing. The ending is very silly because that is apparently how I roll.

Trochilidae

Scott shook his head irritably as his eyelids drooped and flung out his hand to grab his mug… which promptly took a nose dive off the desk.

Allowing himself to face plant the polished wood for a moment he acknowledged he was, at least, lucky it was empty. Something he really should have remembered as that would have been the 5th time he had raised it to his lips only to be disappointed at the lack of caffeinated wake up juice within.

Not that it was doing any good. He scowled. It never did. The miraculous transformation from ‘Sleep of the Dead’ to ‘Alert and Ready’ that the brown stuff could bring about in Virgil and Brains remained a mystery to him. Drinking it kind of kept him grounded though, maybe that was just habit by now. Nevertheless… he shoved his chair back and stood up, glaring at the chunks of ceramic on the floor: a job for future Scott. He went to get a new mug.

Re-entering the living room, he surveyed the scene. All was quiet. Deep breath… stretch out shoulders… he tilted his head from side to side to shift the tension in his neck with a satisfying series of cracks.

1am. No problem.

He was nearly done and then he could get to bed and get a solid 4 hours oblivion before his morning run.

Back at his desk, he took a fortifying gulp of focus juice, put on his determined face, picked up his tablet and swiped up to open the annual report again. He blitzed through another three paragraphs, noted down 4 questions for the board, one for the accountant and one further point to follow up with Jack, the Tracy family lawyer, before his eye was drawn to the broken mug scattered across the floor.

Probably shouldn’t leave that.

Gordon might wander by in those flimsy deck shoes and mortally wound himself.

He laid the tablet back down, pointed at it and muttered” don’t go anywhere” to the document that had been tormenting him. Blinking rapidly as he realised quite how little sense THAT had made, he crouched down to nudge the scattered fragments into a pile he could scoop up into the waste basket.

From this angle he realised there was a lot more than just decimated mug and coffee splatters down here… there were crumbs galore, odd, sticky patches and… yes he was pretty sure that the mysterious patch of shadow tucked away under the back corner of the desk was the better part of a club sandwich. He shuffled over, crablike, and reached underneath to retrieve it, sniffed it cautiously and was just concluding it was unlikely to be worth the subsequent food poisoning when John’s hologram popped up in front of him. He didn’t even glance up to see the inevitable raised eyebrow.

“Don’t even say it, John.”

Obediently his space-brother remained silent.

“I’m nearly done. I’m just signing off the annual report for the board meeting tomorrow.”

“From… under the desk?”

Blue eyes were cast upwards as Scott strode over to the kitchen to dispose of the rancid but weirdly tempting sandwich. There was no liner in the food waste caddy. He tutted and placed the plate on the counter top to deal with in a minute.

“Obviously not, I just spotted that Gordon had left something gross lying around and we don’t want a repeat of the taco incident.”

“Okay, and what are you doing now?”

Scott looked down at the cleaning bot in his hands.

“I… well it’s clearly not been working, the place is a health hazard so I was just going to see if I could…”

This time he did raise his eyes to meet the eyebrow of judgment.

Holding up the bot for John to examine, he grinned at his little brother and shook it gently.

“Look it has googly eyes! I bet that was Gordon.”

“Unlikely to be causing the malfunction. Get Brains to take a look at it tomorrow. Or Alan, he needs the practice.”

“True. Oh, did you see the note his teacher sent through?” Scott returned the bot to its housing and jogged over to his desk to pull up the email in question. He sat down and started to type a reply.

“Scott.”

“Mmhmm?”

“I saw it. It’s non-urgent.”

“Yes but while I think of it I might as well…”

“It’s 1:27am. Why don’t you just sign off the report and get some rest. It’ll keep.”

A melodramatic huff and the offending document was returned to the screen.

“You’ve been reading this for the last four days, Scott. What’s the issue? Can I help?”

“There are just so many points I need to follow up before I can put my name to it.” Scott highlighted a particular paragraph. “What if the data this is based on is inaccurate? I haven’t seen it!” He stabbed at another “These assertions here… is it ok to say that? I need to check the industry standards for…” he gestured vehemently “six or seven of these baseline metrics. The grammar in the narrative paragraphs feels clumsy. And I haven’t even started proof-reading it for typos yet!”

Scott took a deep shuddering breath and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, weaving his fingers into his hair and gripping slightly harder than was comfortable as if that would ease the headache he knew was starting.

“The accountants have checked it, the divisional heads have checked it, Jack has been all over it at least twice. Virgil and the engineering team went through it with a fine tooth comb last week, they’ll know the baselines. I’ve checked it myself. Even EOS had a look.”

The response was barely audible.

“But what if… it’s not good enough? If someone missed something and… I didn’t spot it…”

“You don’t have to spot everything Scott. We pay smart people very generously to spot things. As CEO you are allowed to rely on them.”

Silence.

“Please… can you trust us?”

Holding his breath to fight a wave of nausea, Scott flipped to the final page of the document and added his digital signature.

With ninja-like speed John had saved the file and forwarded it to the board.

“It’s done, big brother. Go and sleep in your actual bed for a change.”

A swift shake of the head and muttered curse as big brother realised he’d gnawed through his bottom lip again.

“Can’t.” He stood up and paced the room.

“You know, maybe you shouldn’t have caffeine so late. Even Virgil…”

Scott’s snapped explanation that it made no difference whatsoever and that John KNEW that was forestalled by a series of beeps followed by a low hum as the cleaning bot started trawling across the floor.

“EOS?”

“Yeah, I asked her to see whether a firmware update would sort it.”

“Right.”

The brothers watched in silence as the little machine zigzagged around the room, bumping from one obstacle to another in an apparently haphazard fashion.

“It doesn’t seem very efficient does it?”

Scott sank suddenly to the floor in an effort to hide the fact his legs had turned to jelly.

“No, but it’ll get there in the end and everything will be done and it will all be ok.”

He snorted at his brother’s lack of subtlety and rested his forehead on his knees, concentrating on breathing evenly. He was fine. It was all fine. Again.

A few minutes passed before he noticed a faint high pitched giggle and his moment of peace was interrupted by the cleaning bot repeatedly bumping into his hip. He lifted his head to glare at it only for his eyes to make contact with the outsized googly ones jiggling wildly with each collision. His shoulders shook and he pressed his lips together to try to contain the rush of emotion rising up in his chest.

“EOS!”

As John turned to lecture the AI about when it was and wasn’t appropriate to annoy older brothers, the bot froze, all unblinking innocence gazing up at him. Scott let slip the smallest chortle then, after a beat, exploded, throwing back his head with howls of laughter, tears running down his face

It took him a while to compose himself enough to notice he was now lying on his back on the living room floor, John smiling down at him like some benevolent heavenly messenger. Smugness permeated through EOS’s voice as she enquired whether the Commander was much better now. He hiccuped. Then nodded. As he peeled himself off the floor and patted the cleaning bot absently, Scott found himself seized by An Idea.

And so it was that as Gordon awoke with his dawn alarm to find a 6-day old sandwich with giant eyes watching him from his bedside table.

The screech of a horrified squid echoed through the villa and was swiftly followed by the slamming of doors and the thundering of feet as most of its occupants tore to the rescue of a brother in distress.

The eldest brother remained precisely where he was, warm and comfortable, listening to the chaos and bemused voices. He smiled to himself and drifted back off to sleep.

[AO3]

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #scott tracy needs sleep #Thunderfluff #mostly fluff #Ok Scott’s a bit stressed #But the ending sorts him right out #EOS is a menace #And a genius

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

ahhh i love it when lucifer fumbles the bag hard so can you do “why is it that when you look at me I know you’re thinking of someone else?” and “I have given you everything including myself if that isn’t enough then nothing will be”

❤️Prompt List❤️

Lucifer is furious, however, he can’t decide who he should direct his anger to. Perhaps Asmodeus? Who helped you sneak out to a bar in the human world, completely ignoring Lucifer’s messages of asking where exactly you both were. Or maybe even you, for also ignoring his messages, staying out until unreasonable hours of morning and returning back, reeking of alcohol, clinging to Asmodeus’ arm. Or himself. As when he asked the others if they knew of your whereabouts. Satan was the only one to reply yes, but refused to answer where. "Maybe you should ask yourself why they might have decided to go somewhere, without letting you know." A very sharp reply, that stung enough to make Lucifer hold his tongue.

He decides to keep his anger thinly veiled for the moment, sending Asmo to his room with a glare, who softly pats your back and murmurs to you. “Let me know if you need anything sweetie.” Before pushing past his elder brother. And as for you, he’s grabbed you by the hand, directing you to the kitchen to drink water. Not a word between either of you exchanged as he marches and you stumble next to him. Only when you appear to sober up enough to walk, does he speak to you. 

"Do you know how worried I've been?" He hisses, as you lean against the kitchen counter, drinking another glass of water that he forced upon you. You take a gulp of the water, before slamming it down, spilling most of its contents. A glare matching the intensity of his own, greeting him before you speak. 

"Probably not in the slightest." Your sentence is broken up by a bitter laugh, it isn’t until you continue when he begins to notice the amount of poison underlying your tone. "In fact I bet you were so not worried that you got work done." The sudden jab surprises him, the heat behind your narrowed glare growing. He’s stunned. 

"Excuse me?” Is all he manages, racking his brain to figure how he could have even given you such an impression. He understands that there have been occasions where he’s had to miss spending time with you to finish tasks and to go to meetings, but you’ve always assured him it’s fine. That you didn’t mind, staying up late, or missing reservations on his behalf. That bitter laugh of yours makes a return. 

“Diavolo sure is lucky that you’re so dedicated to him.” You snap, and your glare eases briefly as your eyes downcast, lips begin to quiver ever so slightly. His heart contorts at the sadness, reaching forward to place a hand atop of yours. Your attention turns away from him, but to the gesture, that once made your heart flutter. 

“You’re intoxicated and clearly aren’t thinking properly. Lets talk about this tomorrow.” He tries gently. 

“Why is it that when you look at me, I know you’re thinking of someone else?” But when he gets your question as a quiet reply, he’s taken aback. 

“That isn’t the case.” And as if he threw a match into a pile of gasoline, your attention snaps back to his face with a glare. Recoiling your hand from his touch, as if he himself had burned you. 

“Isn’t it? You’re always working or going to another meeting, or are being held back for him.” You don’t even realise you’re shouting, or shaking with every grievance escaping you, and in silence he watches. “Don’t you love me? Am I not good enough?” He calls your name quietly, but he’s ignored. “How many dates have you missed, how many hours have you given to him that you robbed from me? From us.” Panic settles in as it dawns on with every word, you’re growing further and further out of his reach. 

“My time is always yours and I’m sorry if you don’t feel it to be that way.” His apology is laced with an unspoken plea. Don’t leave he wants to say, but your rage continues on. 

“So you can’t even admit it? You can’t even accept what I’m saying might be true so you deflect it onto me.” He wasn’t trying to do that, he attempts to explain himself, you don’t want to listen. “I’m so stupid. Of course you’re not going to listen. And I know you’re not going to change either.” He can change, he pleas, he will for you and he thinks as your rage subsides that maybe he’s gotten through to you. Only to see the sorrow in your gaze, as you quietly begin to speak, “I have given you everything including myself, if that isn’t enough then...” the silence weighs on him, on his heart and as you finish your thoughts, “nothing will be.” It crushes him. 

It’s agonizing. The pain in his chest, the ways his lungs heave as words trap themselves in his throat, as it settles in you’re right. And that as you turn on your heel, to shakily walk back to your room, he has no right to follow after you. 

#lucifer suffering blog #one day he will be happy #but not today lol #angst #lucifer #om lucifer #lucifer om #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #om lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me x reader #om! #om x reader #obey me swd #obey me one master to rule them all #cherry's fruit infused prompt list #my writing tag

[plounce]

i havent talked about my wol on here in a hot minute but ummm her lore has developed a lot :) she's co-wols with my friend hawke's wol and she has terminal tank disease and of course it goes without saying that she's hopelessly dependent on the catboy bestfriend. she's selectively mute (silent player character = autism legend) and mikh'a, because he has the echo, can understand the sign she uses (which is half cobbled out of sign languages from the shroud but also from around eorzea and half her own creation) without many wrinkles and also he's just very nice and shortly before she met him she got ejected from her family group so she was like YOU'RE MY PERSON NOW and imprinted. also in ARR she was deeply uncomfortable with any social stuff and so mikh'a handled a lot of it for her. it was a very vulnerable time in her life and she will always feel deeply grateful to him for that. but then we get to hvw and mikh'a (that's the other wol) was engaged to haurchefant before That Happened and it destroys him and he's basically out of the game for the rest of hvw msq from the debilitating grief. so that's the real genesis of her life attitude being "i have to take care of everything and shoulder all of the burdens and duties so that mikh'a has room for HIS burdens". also she has that autism feeling of like "i don't feel as much / as strongly as other people" (yknow) and it's something she really admires about mikh'a, how strongly he feels things (even as the trauma starts to make him an asshole), so. yes. he's the face and she's the shield. due to her terminal tank syndrome. anyway in shadowbringers she gets brought over to the first right before mikh'a does, like 6 months in first time, and the way that their deal works out is that mikh'a is the one who is able to channel the light into tomte so she contains it, leaving her with light poisoning and him with the light aether scraped out of him, so that she's gradually growing more and more blank and stoic and unfeeling while he gets more volatile and emotional (light = stasis, dark = change). anyway tomte decides to go off the empty alone because she's operating on her most basic MO of "other people cannot handle this burden, but i can, i must, i will" and just wakes up, has a very one-sided argument with mikh'a, and then teleports away without telling anyone her plans. and then has an even bigger fight with mikh'a in the tempest as all the scions watch in distress and discomfort and then ryne manages to get through to her and tomte like. cries. and that's a big deal. we've rp'd much of this and more.

hawke (my friend if you forgot) has been ensorcelled by bg3 so he has not played past 5.1 so my further building of tomte's co-WoL story lore canon is sort of on pause right now but i think the end of shadowbringers really freaked her out and she stops tanking because she couldn't handle it. she wasn't able to. it didn't work out and it wouldn't have worked out, and she realizes, when the light is no longer poisoning her brain, that she probably would have doomed everybody if she had gone through with her plan and walked into emet-selch's lair alone. she needed her loved ones to hold her back. and in endwalker i switched to samurai because i capped on warrior so im imagining that in endwalker she also puts down the axe and takes up a sword. still throwing herself into the middle of things, but uncertain about taking responsibility. i think this general level of uncertainty and anxiety is compounded by the fact that she's the WoL zenos is fixated on - she's the muscle, she's been the one really taking on most of the primals and lightwardens. so it's like arrrghhh everything is my fault and my arrogance and my hubris (which is so sad because she is so quiet and humble). anyway. idk how we're gonna do the azem of it all (i have numerous ideas and possibilities in my brain - maybe emet tried to resurrect azem at some point and botched it, leading to the rejoined souls splitting from the source soul, and tomte is the rejoined souls and mikh'a is the core source souls? maybe it's a 3 and 4 split? maybe tomte is a different person altogether? i just know that mikh'a should definitely be azem since his themes and story of destructive grief align really well with emet)

anyway. that's a glimpse of the evolving tomte lore. click and post

#chirps #ffxiv

[addicted-to-dc]

Jason Todd/Red Hood X Reader X Dick Grayson/Nightwing- Love Toxin (Part 6/Final)

(A/N): Here’s the final part! I hope to make writing on here a habit again. It was a time where I literally was the most creative. I hope to get back into it. - Iz

Word Count:  1,150

Warning: angst, descriptions of decay/death, etc?? Some fluff?

You awaken to find yourself in some type of grotto, numerous plants surrounding you as you start to brush off the exhaustion gripping onto your mind. Pushing yourself up, you walked around and attempted to figure out where you were. Whispers started to fill your mind, barely discernible as you continued forward. The voices urged you forward, to break down the barrier that you placed against them. You felt sick, something feeling off as you followed the only path you could see.

The ground felt so soft against your bare feet, the grass and soil providing comfort as your hazy mind forced you to keep walking. Within a few minutes, you pushed past the first barrier, an alarming amount of weight lifting from your shoulders. It was like you were walking on the sun before, the pressure that was keeping you down exponentially different from what you felt now. Continuing forward, you froze when you saw a figure in the distance. At first, you thought it was Ivy, but as you continued you saw that it was a different familiar face.

“Swamp Thing?” you ask, confusion wracking your brain. “What’s going on?”

“Healing,” he responds, holding out a hand to you. “You must repair your connection to the Green.”

You take his hand, brows furrowing as he gently guides you next to him, “Repair my connection? Ivy was the one who forced this on me, I didn’t ask for it.”

“And it is your responsibility to adapt and endure,” he states, leading you further down the path. “Yes, this was forced upon you, but it will kill you if I try to force it out. It is a burden that you have to accept.”

“I’m too familiar with situations like this,” you mutter, looking back at Swamp Thing. “What if it changes me?”

“It will,” he answers, stopping in front of a glowing gate, “and you must decide how it will.”

He lets go of your hand, stepping back as he gestures to the gate. Fear consumes you as you hesitantly step towards it, a comforting warmth radiating off of it. You push your hand through, slowly stepping forward as the warmth surrounded you. Closing your eyes, you sucked in a breath as the world shifted around you. It felt like the whole environment was tilting, rotating on a broken axis until you fully entered the gate.

Your eyes burst open as you sucked in the air, the adrenaline making your heart feel like it was going to bust open your chest. Looking around, the sight of Swamp Thing calmed you down slightly. You looked down to see that you were connected to the surrounding plant life, what you had experienced only a vision created by the connection. You felt complete, relief flooding your system as you realized that you were okay for the moment.

“Your connection is repaired,” he states, his red eyes staring into your own, “but your connection with Poison Ivy is not completely severed.”

“I see,” you sigh, slightly disappointed by the revelation. “Will I ever be free from her?”

“You are one with the Green, just as she is. There is no way to sever yourself from her,” he replies, standing up. “Come, we must continue to repair your connection before it’s too late.”

He extends out his hand. You reluctantly take it, continuing forward as the environment shifts around you. Plants you’ve never seen before move around your vision, beautiful shapes and colors nearly hypnotizing you until you face… nothing.

It looks like a forest after a fire, everything consumed by the flames and leaving ash behind. Swamp Thing feels your hesitation, kneeling down to your level.

“Do not fear death, it is merely a chance for rebirth and renewal. The Green will always come back even after the worst tragedies,” he explains, guiding you along the path. “You need not fear it.”

The burnt plants crunch below your feet. You look around you, feeling nothing but pain as you pass by the corpses of trees left behind. A small plant catches your attention, causing you to let go of his hand. You wander closer, kneeling down to see the small green leaf poking out of the ground. You smile, giving the plant a loving poke before standing back up.

You turn around to see more plants sprouting from your footsteps. Your eyes wander down to see the very ground you stand on to have grown newer, healthier plants. Swamp Thing smiles and continues down the path.

“What will happen to me after this?” you question him, catching up to his long strides.

He smiles at the question, leading you towards a gap in the ground, “What you choose to happen. You have your duties to your family, but now you have the Green to watch over.”

With a wave of his hand, a bridge forms to cover the gap. You move to follow, but the bridge drops before you can even take a step onto it. You realize that this is a test, to see if you can… use the Green?

You shakily raise a hand, silently begging for the vines to take you to the other side. Nothing happens, but you nearly yelp as a vine wraps around your waist and lifts you across. It gently sets you down before slithering away.

Swamp Thing places a hand on your shoulder, a nod of approval following.

“You are ready, but you must continue to strengthen your bond,” he warns, gesturing to the light only a few steps away. “Your family is waiting for you.”

You happily step forward, reaching out for the light, but you hesitate. Memories of you hurting them resurface, the fear of losing them because of what you’ve become. Tossing your doubts aside, you walk into the light. You walk forward, unsure where exactly you’re going, but your instincts tell you that this is the right way.

Soon enough, you find yourself in the gardens near the Manor. You smile at the sight, closing your eyes and smelling the scent of flowers in the air.

“(Y/N)?”

Your eyes snap open, eyes locking with your family as they slowly approached. Your feet remain still, afraid to move as they approach you. Everyone looks hesitant to close the distance, but Jason and Dick step forward. They both wrap you up in a hug. Then all of the tears finally fall.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob, afraid to even wrap your arms around them.

“You’re already forgiven, (Y/N),” Dick says, squeezing you.

“What he said,” Jason chuckles, wrapping his arms around you.

You slowly feel more and more people crowd in on the hug, it’s almost comical with how many join in. Despite everything, at least you know that your family still cares for you. Poison Ivy be damned, you’re going to hold onto this for as long as you can.

#batfam x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader

[answersfromzestual]

Can I have top surgery and be overweight? The Truth.

I am here to clear things about being overweight and top surgery (aka double mastectomy).

Can I have chest surgery if I am overweight? Blanket answer, yes you can.

HOWEVER, let's talk about some things first.

As soon as we peek under my blanket statement, most doctors will not want to touch you if you are too far outside their BMI index. Sounds like a preference, right? I mean, true, but they are a business and, like any other business, can refuse service for any reason. Especially when your life is in their hands.

The BMI index is followed to a degree by most plastic surgerons. This index is not to body shame you in this case. It is strictly for medical reasons. There are many medical reasons to refuse the surgery.

As you lay flat on your back, your own weight presses on your lungs and heart. This can actually cause damage your heart and lungs and also restrict your breathing even further.

Anesthesia issues are a lot deeper than most people realize. It is not just a harmless gas to keep you asleep. Anesthesia is poisonous to us, and it does more harm to your body the longer you are under its direct effect. Also, the more you weigh, the more they have to use. The best anesthesiologists in the world probably would have a hard time with this, especially depending on how long you can potentially be under. The more you weigh means more tissue they need to work with and extra time can mean complications not only while under the drug but can cause many complications after the procedure is done, and even when you wake up. Issues include headaches/migranes, intense nausea, vertigo like symptoms, having a hard time passing urine, lack of gross and fine motor functions, brain functions, paralysis, coma, and death.

Blood flow issues for people who are overweight are a real risk. The skin has stretched over time , and more skin, along with viable tissue, is thinner, with less of a blood supply being delivered to the skin and tissues itself.

Being overweight also means your skin is stretched and no longer has the same elasticity as if you were not overweight. This thin skin is easy to pull apart/tear.

Time in the operating room, more is not better. The longer you are being operated on, the more complications can occur during the procedure and during the healing process. (This is also a general risk)

Upping complications means more likely needing revisions. Plastic surgerons take this into consideration for your health. Insurance probably won't shell out for the same operation twice because of the views on transitioning lead to a lot of "this is just cosmetic."

Diabetes exponentially increases risk of infection and potential necrosis and gangrene (death of tissue).

You are a living canvas for the plastic surgeron(s), your results reflect highly on them. They want the best results for you, but they also have a reputation to upkeep.

If the surgeon gives a condition they consider reasonable and the patient does not produce results near their actual target BMI, which tends to be more liberal than the numbers that are thrown around, the surgeon can question the patients ability to be able to take care of themselves and adhere to the strict rules given for post operative care. A surgeon can also think "does this person want it bad enough if they can't do this request?". They may not say that out loud, but they may think it.

The heavier you are, the harder it is on your body to heal because the extra work your body needs to do to do daily tasks, let alone extra tasks yet also rest.

You do not realize how much and how often you use your chest muscles. Getting out of bed without being able to lift yourself up is really a thing. Using those muscles in some cases can cause rips and tears of stitches, tissues, and muscles.

Surgeons will give you realistic, cis-like results with your chest, this may mean you will not have a flat chest, they may perform more of a reduction than a double mastectomy. Surgeons will make your chest look proportional to your body, hence another surgery if you do lose weight.

Do they want you to have bad results? This is a physical correction to make a positive mental impact if you have bad results post-op. This may not really fulfill the function of procedures purpose to help you like your body.

Doctors want to know you want this surgery, so if they give you a time frame and you don't meet their goals, that's fair. You may have seen your day to day but the surgeron didn't and doesn't care. To them, you didn't meet their goals/ requirements. No surgeon wants to lose their job, role, or status.

Surgeons only want what's best for your health. It's not a shaming conspiracy, it's literally just biology.

Waiting sucks, we know. But what sucks more is that having bad results, you will have forever and potentially risking your life.

Source List:

Anesthesia 1

Anesthesia 2

Anesthesia 3

Anesthesia and Obesity

Surgery 1

Surgery 2

Post Op Risk

Minimal use of being overweight during a procedure personal experience.

P.s: I tried to use respectful and professional terms and wording. If anything is offensive, please let me know in my ask box, and I will fix it.

Stay Safe

Stay Golden Everyone ✌️ 💙 💜

#the truth about ftm top surgery #trans ftm #transgender #ftm transition #transman #trans nonbinary #LGBTQAI+ #ftm surgery #ftm trans #ftm transition educational blog #the real facts #phalloplasty blog #unbiased informational sources #i promise you i worked and looked long and hard before i posted this #clearing up a question that has been circling tumblr for a couple weeks now #well it was it took awhile to put this together #lgbtq #top surgery #facts about being overweight and receiving top surgery #the real amswer

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter three: SILENCE is ONE THING

Summary: Down in the Shenandoah Valley, there lay a court consisting of the Grim, the Drowned, the Witch and the Watcher.

CW: misgendering, mention of death, mentions of motorcycle accident

Every chapter will have a different cw section. This is Bad Omens rpf, so obviously, I don't know all the little nuances of the members or their family members.

A/N: Some things are color-coded. If any of you are colorblind lemme know. 

"Sorry, did I scare you?"

I just stood there as I stared up at him, completely speechless from the near heart attack he gave me. When I finally found my voice again, it was to say in a weak voice, "Wh-Who are you?"

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, which I saw he wore over a grey hoodie. Here I was, in basketball shorts and a cut-off shirt, getting heat stroke just looking at him. "I'm your new neighbor," he said.

"I didn't know anyone lived close to me out here," I said. I wracked my brain, trying to remember if I had looked for houses nearby.

"I mean it in the… loosest of ways," he said. He tilted forward a little, long strands of dark- brown hair hanging out of the hood pulled over his head. I suddenly became aware of how tall he was. Like, a head taller than me, at least. "I don't know if you heard me, but I'm Noah. Noah Sebastian."

"Alright then, Noah Sebastian. If you're my new neighbor, where'd you come from?" I asked, leaning away from him. I scanned the yard behind him, seeing that there was no other car in the makeshift gravel lot.

Noah pointed a long, slender finger to his left, where the forest curved from the road to behind my house. I noticed he was wearing cut-off gloves. "You're not the only one who lives in the woods," he said with a grin.

"Yeah? Well I'm probably the only one who doesn't sneak up on their neighbors,” I said, finally finding my voice as I slipped away from where he cornered me.

"Well, I'm sorry about that. You were about to go into the woods." He shrugged, returning his hand to his pocket. "And Nick told me that a new person had moved in, so I wanted to welcome you properly."

I wasn't sure what it was, but something in his voice made my skin crawl. It sounded sweet, like honey disguised something poisonous. He was like a snakebite, but he had yet to strike.

"So what's your name?" he asked.

"My what?" My mind felt foggy, full of staticky thoughts that made me feel slow.

"Your name, dear," he said, grinning. He took a step closer, until he was almost toe to toe with me. "I would like to know your name."

A seed of stubbornness in me was all that stood between my name and my lips. My birth name though. “It-It’s Taylor,” I gasped out.

The look in his eyes looked as if he knew i was lying, somehow. He shrugged as if in defeat. “Fair enough,” he sighed, taking a step back. He tugged his hood lower over his forehead. If I wasn't so creeped out by him, I'd say that he was almost...pouting.

"Aren't you hot?" I asked, the words blurting out. Those pouting lips curled into a smirk, making me scowl. "The heat, jackass."

I swore his dark eyes darkened further, and a small part of me bleated in fear. Something about him just seemed wrong. I became suddenly aware that it was just us two out here in the middle of nowhere.

“Noah!”

The familiar voice made me jump. I hadn't noticed the small silver car drive up, nor did I hear Nicholas get out of his car until he yelled. Noah however, didn't move.

“It doesn't bother me,” he said. His eyes flicked between me and Nicholas. I wondered if Granny's warnings also applied to scrawny assholes that appeared out of nowhere.

“Nick!” Noah exclaimed, looking up at Nicholas as he came closer. The weird feeling vanished the minute Noah's eyes left mine. “What are you doing here?”

“I… came over to drop some things off,” Nicholas said, his eyes moving between me and Noah.

“He's a friend of yours?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Nicholas said. He didn't seem as weirded out as I was; just… curious. That's when he handed me a bag. “I found this in one of Granny's cabinets. I thought I'd save you the trouble of finding one.”

I opened the bag to see a security camera in it. “You didn't have to do that,” I said.

“It was just collecting dust. I don't think she'll miss it.” Nicholas shrugged, then turned to Noah. “Do you need a ride… home?”

“Why not?” Noah said, stalking off. Halfway to the car, he called out over his shoulder, “Have a good night, Taylor.”

Nicholas turned back to me, his face tight. “Text me if you need help setting that up,” he said.

I swallowed all of my questions. “Alright.”

After the two left, I went back to my laundry. My hands shook as I took down the slightly damp clothes off the clothesline, and they didn't stop until I forced them to while I finished my dinner. I felt off-kilter, shaken as I curled up on the couch and tried to watch a movie.

It wasn't until I was lying under the covers of my bed, unable to sleep, that I realized that there was no way I couldn't have missed Noah if he came down from the road. Even if he ran across my lawn, I would have seen him. Which meant one thing.

“That looks extremely unsafe.”

He had come from the woods.

The familiar voice made me pause. I looked down at Nicholas, who was staring up at me from the front steps. His hair was down, and he wore regular glasses. “Well, I don’t have a ladder, and I’m not exactly what they call ‘tall’,” I said.

I was standing on my two outdoor chairs, stacked on top of each other, to give me access to the wooden cross beams in the porch’s open ceiling. I was eager to set up the security camera immediately.

There hadn’t been any late-night visitors overnight, but I also didn't leave out an offering. In fact, I had brought the plate in so it wouldn’t get snatched and ruin my plans.

“I could’ve brought one over,” he sighed.

“Yeah, but that would’ve meant I had to wait for you,” I said. “I already have the battery set up on the roof, so I just need to–”

“How'd you get up on the roof without a ladder?” he asked.

“I’m a really good climber.” And it also involved the chairs I was standing on. I saw a flash of confusion and doubt cross his features, but he just shook his head.

“Are you still intending to catch what destroyed your bird feeder?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” I said, having forgotten the lie I had texted him, “but if someone sneaks onto my property, I wanna catch them too.”

“No one would come out here. It’s too far out of the way.”

I gave him a pointed look. “Well, that’s apparently not true for your friend.” After finishing hanging up the camera, I tried to step down on my own, but Nicholas held his hand out and helped me down.

“I didn’t think he’d come over by himself. He’s normally a… private person. Doesn’t really leave his place a lot,” he said. “He didn't scare you, did he?”

“He snuck up behind me and grabbed me,” I said. It sounded like I was exaggerating, but Nicholas sounded like he was coming to Noah's defense.

“I'm sorry. I'll have a talk with him before I leave for Richmond tomorrow,” Nicholas said, almost raising his hands in a defensive manner. He was defending him. “Noah's not really - well, he is a little weird, but normally he's pretty chill.”

“Whatever you say, Nicholas,” I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

“You can call me Nick. Only Granny calls me Nicholas. My friends call me Nick.”

“Well, glad to hear that you consider me a friend,” I said sincerely, earning a soft, warm smile. “But why did you come over?”

“Oh. I, uh…wanted to see if you wanted to go into town? I was on my way and I thought I’d drop by and ask,” he said.

The town of New Hope only consisted of a couple of square miles, and boasted about having almost five- thousand people, which is one of the reasons why I wanted to move out here. When I had driven through on that first day, it took a total of five minutes to drive from one end of the town to the other.

“Yeah, sure! Just lemme change real quick.”

According to Nick, there were only a few good places to sit down and eat that weren't fast food. One was a diner that was always full of the older people, and it was best if I just avoided it all together. Another was just a bar.

We ended up in the town’s only Mexican restaurant, where the food was comparable to Taco Bell, according to Nick. But it turned out they served horchata, which was perfect in my book.

“So what was so bad about the other place?” I asked.

“The old people around here do nothing but gossip. I’m surprised Granny hasn’t yet told her friends that you and I are seeing each other,” Nick said.

I snorted. “I met you like, two days ago.”

“That doesn’t stop them. Give ‘em a month, and people will be asking you when our wedding will be,” he said, taking a bite of his food.

“You don’t sound like you like them a whole lot.”

He looked up from his food. “It’s a long story,” he said, “but a lot of people here like to think they care about you. Give 'em a chance and they'll throw you to the lions.”

There was a few minutes of silence as I mulled over that statement. Would that be my fate? I’ve never really cared about what others think of me, but what did he mean by that last bit? Did it happen to him once?

After a while, I noticed that Nick looked like he was mulling something over. His eyes kept flicking over to me. I sighed. “Spit it out.”

“What? My food?”

“Ew. No. Whatever’s on your mind.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking… what happened to your hip?” he asked. “I saw that scar this afternoon, and you were limping badly after we moved your furniture around.”

“Oh, that's fine. It…” I took a deep breath. “It was a motorcycle accident.”

“You ride motorcycles?” he asked incredulously.

“No, my brother do… did.”

“Did? Did he…” Nick trailed off when I nodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

I swallowed thickly. “It’s fine. It was a freak accident anyways,” I said. I let out a short chuckle. “At least we were wearing helmets.” I tried to lighten the mood. His shocked look told me that it didn’t, so I scrambled for some other topic. “You have siblings?”

“Yup. I'm a middle child,” he said. “They’ve both moved out east.”

“So is Granny the only reason you stay here?” I asked. “Since you don't like the people around here?”

“Well…” He blew a long strand of black hair out of his face. “It's just… It's nice to get away from the craziness of the city, you know? I don't know if you liked it or there on the coast, but–”

“That's the reason I moved,” I admitted quietly. “I had to get out.” Well, it was one reason.

He looked at me for several seconds before slowly nodding, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. I couldn’t help but think, Kindred spirits.

“Do you need to go anywhere else?” Nick asked.

“I’m good if you’re good.”

“You wanna meet my cats?”

“Oh, fuck yes. Let’s go.”

Up front, when I was paying for my meal, a flyer caught my eye. It was pinned up on something like a community board, partially hidden under other flyers, but I could still make out the main bits of it.

I think it was some advertisement for the library, but it was the picture that caught my attention. It was a drawing of some… well, I wouldn’t really call it an animal. It was vaguely humanoid. Really, it was just an all-black figure, with long arms that ended in long fingers. Scraggly long hair hung from its head. Large, white orbs were centered where its eyes should be.

But the most prominent feature were the antlers that protruded from its head. They looked more like tree branches with the way they twisted in on each other.

Under the picture, in some mockery of a ghoulish font, was written the phrase:

WHO WATCHES THE WATCHER?

“The hell is a ‘Watcher’?” I asked Nick, who was waiting off to the side.

He opened his mouth to answer, but some guy behind me beat him to it. “That’s the thing that they say lives out in them woods by the main road, out by 19,” he said. “They call him the Watcher because he watches over the Shenandoah Valley.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nick shift uncomfortably. “Gotcha,” I said, turning back to the lady behind the counter. Unfortunately, the guy didn't take the hint.

“Hey, aren’t you the new girl who bought the old Davis house by 19?” the man asked. My shoulders tensed. “You practically live next door to the—”

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Nick butted in.

“Hey man, she was just ask—”

“They.”

Nick and the man turned towards me. “I’m not a ‘she’. I go by ‘they’,” I said sternly. We left the restaurant, leaving the man in the dust. When we were outside, I apologized.

“No, it’s fine, I just…” Nick sighed. “I was hoping he wouldn’t spook you.”

“I’m fine. That's not what I was apologizing for.”

“Oh… For correcting him?” he said. “I’m sorry if I’ve called you by the wrong pronouns.”

I shrugged. “Thanks. I'm used to it. I know I’m not what most people assume a non-binary person looks like, so I’m used to it,” I said. “It’s just… the way he was talking got me…cranky, I guess.”

“Ignore him. They think anything out in the woods is the Watcher,” Nick said. Something in his tone made me glance over at him, but he was completely focused on driving.

He was quiet the few minutes it took to get to his place. It was a quaint house, almost hidden behind the plants and ivy. It wasn’t until he had parked the car did he speak. “Have you been doing the offerings?”

The question surprised me. “Not last night,” I admitted. I even went a step further and said, “Something came onto the porch Friday night.”

The look in his eyes when he turned to me sent shivers down my spine. His eyes were the color of steel when he said, “I’ve seen a lot of things out here, so trust me when I say, you should really be leaving the offerings.”

Tysm for reading! Next chapter coming soon!

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #bad omens au #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #jolly karlsson fanfiction #nick folio fanfiction #horror au #paranormal au #tag: non binary character #fic: lost in the labyrinth #series: lost in the labyrinth #cw: supernatural themes #cw: death #cw: motorcycle accident

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Rook Hunt Dorm Uniform Personal Story: Part 1

"The true culprit... is you!"

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

[Courtyard]

Vil: …8…9…10! Next up, camel pose.

Vil: Open up your chest area and slowly bend your upper body back. Once you're able to grab your ankles, keep that pose.

Everybody: Yes, sir!

Epel: Urgh… Rook-san…

Rook: What is it, Monsieur Pommette?

Epel: I thought I was supposed to be here to help the film club with their next movie, but… Urk!

Epel: Why are we… urgh… doing yoga?

Rook: Well, Epel-kun. It's to help you relax and prepare your body for the coming activities, of course.

Rook: The more we can release the tension we hold, the more our minds open, and communication becomes easier.

Rook: Yoga is the optimum exercise to increase blood flow, accelerate metabolism, and calm your spirit. On top of that, it improves your posture and style so you can become even more beautiful!

Rook: That's why Vil always does yoga before starting his film club activities.

Epel: I-I see… But there's gotta be a more easier way to do that… right?

Rook: By the way, Epel-kun. You need to bend your back further, or you cannot call that a camel pose.

Rook: Don't worry, I'll help you out by pulling your arms back!

Epel: Eh, no, it's fine―

Epel: OWWWWWWWWW!!!!

Rook: Hahaha, it seems your body is quite stiff, Monsieur Pommette.

Savanaclaw Student A: Yo, look at those film club guys. They're all in funny poses! I definitely wouldn't be caught dead doing weird stuff like that in front of other people.

Film Club Member A: What do you guys want, barging in on us like that. And, this is called yoga, first of all…

Film Club Member B: Leave them be. Those muscle-for-brains in Savanaclaw wouldn't be able to comprehend our more limber exercises.

Savanaclaw Student B: Haaah? You lookin' for a fight?

Rook: Come now, don't be so quick to anger! Why not join us?

Rook: Why don't we do yoga together to strengthen our bonds and achieve that higher beauty!

Savanaclaw Student A: Who'd wanna do that!? "Beauty" ain't nothing useful. Yo, let's get out of here.

Epel: …Pissin' me off. Rook-san, how can you stand to invite people like that?

Rook: I thought they'd be able to see the merits of yoga if they tried it. Alas.

Rook: Oh, what have I done! I got caught up in talking, and that I forgot to help you.

Rook: My apologies, let's continue.

Epel: Eh, no, I'm good now… Ow ow ow owww!!!!

Vil: ―Epel?

Epel: Ah… Vil-san.

Vil: I thought I might have heard an awful sound much like a frog being squashed, but that must have been my imagination, yes?

Epel: Urgh… I'm sorry, I'll be better.

Vil: Rook. I'd like to believe that there won't be any issues cropping us as long as you're near him, but…

Vil: If something were to happen, I expect you to "properly" educate him.

Vil: Epel is still lacking in aspects other than just his manners and aesthetic sense.

Epel: Am… I?

Vil: Just a moment ago, were you not irritated when those Savanaclaw students came and tried to meddle with us?

Vil: Don't bring in any low-level fights into Pomefiore. Understand?

Epel: Yes, sir…

Vil: And Rook, understand this. If Epel starts a fight with anyone from another dorm during this shoot…

Vil: I'll kick you both out of the film club― No, from the dorm.

Epel: …Man, even though I was just forced here to help.

Vil: Did you say something?

Epel: Nothin'… Ah, I mean, nothing at all.

Vil: Anyway. Try to keep self-control and prevent yourself from any sort of behavior that would tarnish the Pomefiore name.

Rook: Oui, Roi de Poison. Leave it to me!

Film Club Member A: Look at how cozy those three look together…

Film Club Member C: Epel-kun and Rook-senpai are pretty amazing. Putting aside the fact that he's in the same dorm, they're able to talk with Vil-san so casually.

Film Club Member C: Maybe it's 'cause I used to see him on TV and in magazines before I enrolled here, but I still get nervous, y'know?

Film Club Member A: Yeah. The fact that those two can talk to him no problem is pretty amazing.

[Interior Hallway]

―The next day

Epel: Ah, Rook-san.

Rook: Oh, Epel-kun. You're here early.

Epel: Yes, sir. My classes ended early today, so…

Film Club Members: Hello!

Rook: Ah, you all as well, I see… Then, I suppose we'll be the first in the club room today.

[Classroom]

Rook: Vil won't be with us today, due to some work he has, so I'll lead the club activities…

Film Club Member B: …What's wrong?

Rook: La vache… How terrible. Look at that.

Epel: Woah! Vil-senpai's costume is torn to shreds!?

Film Club Member A: It's not just the costume, either. The partition for the film set, too…

Everybody:!!

Epel: Wh-What's that creepy message written' in red paint over there…?

Rook: "Inadequate beauty"… Must be a message left by whoever destroyed the costume.

Rook: Hm, this is quite the case… This seems to be a declaration of war!!

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #twst rook #twst vil #twst epel #twst translation

[liketwoswansinbalance]

The Brothers' and the School Masters' Futures & Trivia

Note:

I would suggest reading my role reversal fic, "Masters of None," featuring an AU in which Rhian and Rafal are young, kidnapped, Reader students and Sophie and Agatha are the School Masters, before reading this post as this post may be confusing if you haven't.

Here are links to the fic on:

tumblr

AO3

Wattpad

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A Q&A about the characters' futures.

When I posted this fic to another site, I got some questions about the brothers' and the School Masters' futures, and since I have no plans to write a sequel to this fic at the moment, I offered answers about their and other characters' futures. So, if you're interested, that bonus content is ahead!

Also, thank you to everyone who asked questions! If anyone has further questions, feel free to comment them below.

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Fun fact: Sophie says hydrangeas nauseated her in QFG because they resembled brains, so these ones are part of Agatha's interrogation technique.

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Q: So if they're immortal (Sophie and Agatha) can they just eat belladonna berries or poison without effects?

A: Probably, they'd suffer mild side effects from poison, like an upset stomach, nothing major.

For instance, the undiluted scream of a mandrake root is supposed to kill a mortal man instantly when heard. Sophie just gets an aching, throbbing, pounding headache of massive proportions. In the moat, the root's properties are interfered with, and it's sort of waterlogged, so it doesn't kill Rafal, a mortal, when he hears it, luckily.

Considering how Rafal was capable of feeling temporary, mortal pain in the prequels, even when his magic was at full strength, it would only make sense to not make Sophie and Agatha 100% invulnerable in this context.

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Q: What do the Good students think of Agatha? And does anyone have a teacher crush on Sophie, rather than Sophie flirting with them?

A: The Good students are fond of Agatha, but they see her as the exception, not the rule. She's still very unconventional to them as an Ever, but they hold a certain reverence for her anyway, like she's a respectable Lady of the Lake-figure. (There are Camelot letters on Agatha's desk. For a few years, the king of Camelot (Tedros) has been attempting to court Agatha, and Camelot itself, despite its traditionalism, approves of the match, if only Agatha would agree to it, because her status as Good School Master would elevate Camelot even further.)

Yes, Everboys generally have a crush on Sophie from afar, for the first few weeks of school, until they realize she really is as Evil/fatal as they've been told, and stop viewing her as some kind of damsel to be saved. It's a reasonable mistake to be made. Usually, this happens when they hear the screams from the Doom Room, and arrive at the conclusion that the Evil School Master is kind of psychotic, even if she seems perfectly coy, polite, and demure on the outside. They rarely act on their crushes though. The dimmer few that do quickly find out she's Evil the hard way. If they manage to scale the School Masters' tower, and reach the catwalk, they are caught by Sophie's high-security magical wards. The glitter on the walkway, which looks perfectly harmless, adheres to any exposed skin, and causes horrid blisters. The Everboys usually end up sobbing wrecks at that point, and are taken back to their side by Sophie's Stymphs.

The Evergirls in Beautification (which she teaches in Agatha's stead) look up to her, but they don't entirely approve of her either.

The Nevers don't care about how attractive their School Master is. Some of them secretly don't like her because of how un-Never-like she is.

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Q: Would you say Agatha is the type of teacher that can be strict but is also really good? Like people actually learn a lot by being taught by her.

A: Yes! As a teacher, she's kind of like August Sader. She tries to get her students to figure things out for themselves, teach them critical thinking along the way. Though, she does answer questions as she isn't a Seer.

(Also, the Nevers have a point. Sophie's not exactly representative of them as a whole. At the very least, Woods leaders respect Sophie because they're kind of obligated to, even if she seems silly to them, and they're very afraid of her.

Eventually, Agatha reluctantly goes on a date with Tedros. But, she can't be queen and School Master at the same time. (Both are demanding jobs.) So, if she ever were to marry Tedros, she'd take on the position ceremonially, and she'd have to delegate to the household in Camelot from a distance through some kind of correspondence because she's constantly busy at the School.)

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Q: What kind of questions is she asked?

A: Two common dilemmas:

-1-

Ever: School Master Agatha, my Ball date left me! What should I do?!

Agatha: First, take a deep breathe and take my handkerchief. Do you have any reason to believe they indeed left you? [First, to make sure they aren't exaggerating when they explain themselves.] Why do you think they left you? [After listening to their response, she'd either re-direct them to fix things, apologize, or tell them it wasn't their fault but the date's. And lastly:] What do you think you should do?

-2-

Ever: What's the answer to this question I got wrong on my Good Deeds Quiz?

Agatha: Why don't you read it over again and tell me? If you really can't come up with any answers, come back and I'll explain it to you. And remember: there may only be one entrance to the kingdom of Putsi, but there are many, many ways to be Good!

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Q: That sounds like a smart way to handle things. How does Tedros feel about that?

A: Tedros tries to be ok with it, but he's clingy, and sometimes, is at the School to see his wife more than he should be. Often, Camelot has to send multiple envoys to the School, to get him to come back and rule!

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Q: Aww poor Tedros. So how does the wedding work? Was school canceled for the day?

A: The wedding takes place on a School holiday, and Agatha takes a leave of absence for their honeymoon.

Sophie is thrilled to have the Schools all to herself, and would've wreaked havoc, if Agatha hadn't given her Dean precise instructions before she left on how to defuse Sophie. The Dean doesn't manage to interfere with all of Sophie's plans however and was tricked into running errands (a wild goose chase, to get rid of him). When Agatha gets back, all the uniforms (including the Evers') have been redesigned, Evil's front lawn has been filled with man-eating yet beautiful rose bushes, the Blue Forest has been turned pink, and Sophie had a new bathtub and chandelier installed in their tower.

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Q: And how does Agatha react to the.. ahem, renovations?

A: She's not too happy, and gives Sophie a lecture about over-spending. Sophie reasons that Camelot can pay for it all, and Agatha is just... at a loss for words.

Agatha permits most of the changes to stay (The Evers like their new uniforms. The Nevers don't, but Agatha can't do anything for them.), except the Blue Forest is changed back, and the roses have to go because they're a safety hazard.

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Q: Aww the roses actually seemed oddly.. cute?

A: I guess they were cute, to Sophie. But, they were relocated to the Blue Forest, to be part of that year's Trial. And, Sophie replaced the empty patches with lavender and honeysuckle instead, to use for her beauty routines. The honeysuckle attracted a lot of hummingbirds, and Reaper loves them too, for that reason. Only the Nevers themselves hate the new gardens.

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Q: Maybe the insomniac Nevers can use lavender to help them sleep..

A: They could... if only they would listen to their School Master. But they don't, and largely continue to be insomniacs.

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Q: Is Sophie Tedros' ex in this?

A: No, she's not.

I guess Sophie and Agatha would have to be from the Woods, not Readers originally, and I'm not sure if they would've attended the Schools themselves. Plus, Tedros is centuries younger than Agatha, even if he's an adult, so they didn't really all know each other during Sophie's prince-chasing phase.

And, it was Sophie who started the Reader-kidnapping tradition (she flew to Gavaldon while looking for a new tailor), soo actually, yeah, they can't really be Readers themselves. Agatha couldn't have found Gavaldon because, as an Ever, she refuses to use blood magic for flight.

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Q: Like Rafal starting it in the og!

A: Yep! In this AU, Sophie is basically him but with her own typical personality. Hence how she was a shadow at the beginning of this fic.

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Q: So what happens with Kyma and all?

A: She's part of a class in the much more far future, long after Rhian and Rafal's class. She's the only Evergirl known to rival the Good School Master's Goodness, and eventually takes the position of Dean of Good under Agatha. No stupid boys like Aladdin for her!

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Q: WILL Rafal eventually kill the School Masters?

A: No. Agatha got through to him, mostly. Well, it takes him a while to change his mind and turn over a new leaf. By second year, he has other goals.

It's hard to picture him in a job other than School Master, so I think, when he graduates, he either goes off and does his own thing, extorting money, gaining power, assassinating important dignitaries in his way, and maybe, taking a fortress for himself, or he works at the national Bank of Putsi, or becomes a member of the Kingdom Council. Something else that affords him power.

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I don't have any plans for a part two at all, but if inspiration ever strikes, I might write some kind of follow-up. However, if you'd like to know anything about the characters' futures, I can just tell you what I have in mind!

Q: I can imagine! Do tell me what you have in mind. :D

A: Sophie and Agatha continue on as School Masters for the rest of time. No wars are fought. The Woods remain in balance.

By the time the brothers' fourth year rolls around, Sophie is harboring a bit of a petty grudge against Rafal because they had a platonic, student-mentor friendship for a bit, and then he rejected her very outrightly in a no-nonsense, undramatic way, so like any prodigious witch or woman scorned, she sets him up to fail and with luck, end up in a watery grave. So, their dynamic is closer to Tedros' and Sophie's in canon, like friendly-enemies, not even "frenemies" but worse.

Agatha is a little miffed by this turn of events as Rafal had always been such a promising student for his side, and she thinks it's such a waste for Sophie to squander her best student. What on earth was her sister thinking? (Hint: She wasn't. She'd rather settle a score than lead Evil as a whole to greater victory on the shoulders on a boy she "despises." And that small-scale pettiness is probably the greatest Evil of all, denying her side that chance to win.) Nevertheless, Evil students are not within Agatha's sphere of influence, so she can't truly do anything about Rafal's fourth-year questing assignment, which is to parlay with the infamous Night Crawlers that have already killed many a man for centuries. How her sister expects Rafal to confer with inhuman creatures that cannot talk is beyond her. Then again, that must be the point: a roundabout death sentence over Rafal's head, engineered to be a no-win situation for a mortal.

Meanwhile, Rhian is frantic over Rafal's unfair questing assignment and doesn't pay much attention to his own. He literally throws himself at Sophie's feet, but she will not yield. Even Agatha tries to bribe Sophie with jewelry to re-assign Rafal's quest considering that it's causing one of her students severe emotional distress, but Sophie will not reconsider. At all. She does take the diamond earrings though.

Rafal is less worried than Rhian, but everyone (including his own Never classmates) suspects it's a facade, some kind of false bravado, or sheer overconfidence as Class Captain. He's more mad than afraid, actually. Because, he's devised an ingenious way to game the system against all odds. While teaching him sorcery, Sophie had shown him the flesh-over spell (from TLEA), good for mild blemishes and pimples and such. However, he adapted that spell into a regeneration spell, so he would continually have more blood to give and could manually "heal" (temporarily patch up) his wounds so he wouldn't bleed out, meaning, that if he couldn't secure an unfortunate stranger as a decent hostage to trade to the Night Crawlers, he'd be able to use himself as bait/part of the exchange in a controlled manner and still live to tell the tale.

Eventually, tales of his regeneration spell, as the best-known substitute for immortality, are bandied throughout the Woods for decades, but no one ever manages to replicate it. And since he's the only one known to cast it successfully, having withheld the knowledge for his own gain, only a few intrepid souls approach him every year with requests, often, veteran soldiers to gain back a limb, who bring him their weight in gold that they scraped together. So, Rafal is mythologized and becomes a Baba Yaga-type figure because he passes his judgments on the people that seek an audience with him, and either murders them instantly or helps them. The decision always seems sporadic on the outside, but Rafal has his reasons/intuition around who he sees as fit to live.

Anyway, somehow, Rafal negotiates incredibly well, and in return, agrees to help the Night Crawlers reach their lightless paradise at the bottom of the sea, probably below the seafloor. And he does it so well (partly by tricking them/using "exact words") that he is crowned The Sorcerer King of the Night Crawlers and Master of the Inagrotten. Of course, when this news reaches Sophie, it infuriates her, but she finally decides to leave him alone.

She also takes some of the credit for teaching her best student, saying she knew he'd succeed all along and had faith in his talents, but not everyone believes her. The Rot eats up the story when they interview her though. And hers is the only version of the story they have. Rafal doesn't care and flat-out refuses to be interviewed. His refusal does make headlines though. He encased a very talkative reporter in solid ice for his troubles.

With his new, hard-earned, fearsome reputation, Rafal has enough leverage to take up a fight with the Kingdom Council now because no Ever kingdom in the Woods is willing to utter his name for fear of summoning him (an urban myth that's cropped up). So, they call him "Rothbart the Second" as a pseudonym, or refer to him by his illustrious title. Rhian finds all this very funny, but he goes along with the bit whilst in polite company, so no one makes him throw salt over his shoulder.

And, Rafal does Rhian a favor after Rhian wraps up with his more typical fourth-year quest: campaigning for equal marriage rights for all in Pifflepaff Hills (the pink and blue kingdom). More on that later.

Rafal pays off Seers to be one step ahead on rare occasions, extorts money from various emperors, kings, and regents, and doesn't have a permanent fortress/address because that would be too vulnerable to attack, an unchanging place. Soon enough, everyone would figure out where he is and bother him, and he can't have that. (The only person who is aware where Rafal is at any given time, or who knows where he "lives" is Rhian because they post each other letters on the regular.) Rafal lives inside his own Celestium, in a black cloak he enchanted, which is only accessible to him. It's also the only place in the Woods where he's not paranoid because several Ever kingdoms have put a bounty on his head. No one ever manages to kill him though, which is a fact he's extremely smug about. He learns blood magic, and can fly off from any threats, if he has to. And, he takes a life-extension elixir of blood-and-gold to prolong his life even further. He still ages mortally a bit slowly, but Rhian worries that he's cheating death too much and that it might catch up to him one day.

As for Rhian, he never does find the perfect, imaginary True Love that lives up to his ideals, but finds that he's contented by Rafal's monthly visits, especially considering how after his quest reached a successful end, Rafal got him a position on the Kingdom Council (the favor), as a biased "in" for him to exploit (the cover story), but secretly also so he'd know Rhian would have a relatively safe job for the rest of his life, so he wouldn't have to worry about Rhian dying while he's away.

Eventually, Rhian rises in the ranks and becomes a judge of some kind of inter-kingdom court, at Four Point, which is funny because his brother is technically an outlaw, not that Rhian would ever pass a verdict against Rafal, because he can't oversee a trial where someone he knows personally is involved anyway (it's against the rules), but still, it's really strange to see the strait-laced, gold-robed judge have tea with his brother in black. Without fail, the foreign Ever dignitaries scatter from the courtroom when they spot the Inagrotten docked at the nearest port because they know exactly who's arrived.

The END.

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Q: Very curious! What were Rafal's reasons for rejecting Sophie?

A: Like Rafal in Rise, this Rafal has no interest in romance, and probably, still has part of his original impression of this Sophie in his mind, which is "annoying" and "too fussy/difficult/high-maintenance" for him to deal with. He's got enough on his plate with Rhian already, so he doesn't want another "Rhian." He doesn't tell her his reasons though. But, he would like his life to be drama-free, for once.

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Q: That's what I thought! Honestly, I'm not a fan of Rafal x Sophie in general, but I can see how TLEA's Rafal works with her.

A: Yes, they're my favorite ship, but wouldn't have worked well in this context, so they couldn't end up together. Personally, I think they balance each other well, but not in all circumstances. (Probably, because I view Rafal and Agatha as similar, and Agatha and Sophie also balance each other well (platonically).) And TLEA Rafal and Sophie I like because they're in love and in pain, which is just... entertaining and devastating, kind of. They have chemistry there too, I think. The TLEA banter is basically some of my favorite dialogue in the whole series. You can really see contrast in Sophie's line about tea parties and sunlight. Though, I'm just kind of attached to the idea of the ship, haha.

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Q: What happens with Agatha and Sophie after the twins have their own careers and so forth? Hopefully they don't kill each other..

A: Well, like usual, they get another class of students, and the cycle repeats. It's less tumultuous this time around because Sophie is not infatuated with the students. She's probably learned her lesson, but in a couple of centuries, it may just happen again...

And, no, they don't kill each other. There are some close calls, like the time Agatha broke a mirror, the time Agatha fed one of Sophie's leather handbags to a Stymph in retaliation for Sophie's flower arrangements aggravating her hay fever, and the time that she accidentally let Reaper into Sophie's closet (resulting in torn hems and clawed curtains). But, luckily, Sophie does fundamentally love Agatha, so Agatha is never actually murdered. Sophie just screams at her, and gives her the silent treatment for a couple days. Then, Agatha brings her a lavish present, and all is well again.

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Q: What does Rafal's Celestium look like?

A: In this AU, Rafal's Celestium has a deep, velvety, black, midnight sky, and spangles of "stars," white pinpricks of lights, like holes in a swath of fabric, so he can breathe. There are dark, stormy clouds, but all is silent, like he's in a vacuum, like he's safely tucked in the eye of a major storm or within an inkblot. If he wants to, he can adjust the lighting, so it's not too dark. The second light source is these beautiful, phantom flowers that grow from vines that encircle the clouds. They're not real, physical things, just offshoots of magic, ghostly and golden, like some kind of residual effect from spending time around Rhian. There are often more of them when Rafal's close to Rhian, during his visits. And, he likes to watch their constant glow, like nightlights. It's a comforting reminder that Rhian is alive after all. Though, he never touches them or prunes them, just lets them continually take over, or wither in their own time frame because he once found that when he touched one himself, to attempt to pick it and bring it to Rhian, it instantly crumpled to ash in his hand. They're inaccessible to him, the way Good is figuratively inaccessible to him, like a symbol of what he cannot be, but can only do.

(In the universe of TOTSMOV41, his Celestium has more movement/clutter, and a different appearance, but that will be revealed a while later. It does come up in one of the sequels I have planned to TOTSMOV41, if I ever manage to finish it.)

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Q: If Rafal has a Celestium, does Rhian have one too or did he not take up magic as seriously as Rafal? If he does have one, what does it look like? I would imagine he would have something associated with Rafal in there as well.

A: Rhian wouldn't practice his sorcery as frequently as Rafal would. As an Ever, he doesn't have as much cause to, except when he needs to discern the truth at trials, or judge the souls of the convicted. Otherwise, he uses his sorcery for frivolous things, like manifesting clothes, or levitating his luggage and books through the air.

Rhian's Celestium would be found in his gold, judicial robes, or when he's in a pinch, he can access it via his heavily-embroidered cravats.

The robes have mesh-like embroidery embossed on them, with some dimension and real heft to the needlework, from thread of pure spun gold, mostly at the sleeve cuffs and about the wide borders at the bottom hem. This would translate to a fragile-seeming, mesh-like, geodesic dome in his Celestium, that looks as if it could be toppled by a strong wind, as part of its "sky," with very intricate lattice-work done, wrought in twisted gold, the way palace gates often are, with hammered gold leaves and flowers, to match the embroidery work. The space wouldn't exactly have a ceiling, considering how the whole thing is a dome, but a paneled atrium ceiling would also be a similar image to what I have in mind.

Usually, his Celestium would be sunlit and warm, and the voluminous folds of his robes would make up the sky, usually reflecting a sky at sunrise through the gold wire structure, in pale blues and oranges, which would carry over from the deep blue and orangish, bronze-colored, brocade inner lining of his robes. The lighting within the dome mimics the Golden Hour at all times unless he were to tamper with it.

Some of the panels of his sky-dome are just mirrors, like shimmering fish-scales embedded in the sky, so he gets a good view of himself from many angles. Typical Ever vanity and hubris.

Rhian's sign of Rafal in his Celestium are soft, slick feathers, black swan feathers that rain down slowly, floating in the atmosphere, like wisps of smoke. Some just hang there, suspended in the air or blown about by airstreams. They brush Rhian on their way down, and at times, tickle him when they fall past.

If all the feathers were to drop to the ground at once, he'd probably have true cause to worry, believing that Rafal is gravely wounded or even dead. It hasn't happened yet though.

Here are some images, of a geodesic dome and of the gold wrought quality it would have, if you're at all curious:

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Once again, if anyone else has other questions, concerns, or thoughts, I'm perfectly willing to answer them in the comments section!

#school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #rafal #rafal mistral #rhian #rhian mistral #agatha of woods beyond #sophie of woods beyond #sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #rotsge #rotsfgae #my post #my fics #narrative parallels #my aus #role reversal au #masters of none #mon #bonus content #behind-the-scenes #trivia #imagery #the one true school master of vault 41 #totsmov41

[jinmukangwrites]

Just something little I wrote. I was going to use this for my BTHB card "handcuffed/manacled" but got to a point where I don't know how to continue to a resolved ending even if I was to make this a multi-chapter. But I also don't want to just scrap the idea. Idk, maybe this can inspire someone else. The idea simply came from "what if Cal is captured by the Empire on Bracca"

--

"To the Empire... we're all just expendable!"

"Yes," the second sister says, her voice calm like silk as she steps fluidly in front of Prauf, lifting her hand above his chest. "You are."

Red bursts from the saber in her hand, and Prauf's dying shout rings loud in Cal's ears. His heart shatters, vision becoming blurry with horror, fear, anger.

He screams, all of his terrifying emotions overriding his 5 year programming stay under the radar, pushing through his teeth in a throat burning "No!"

He lights his lightsaber before he can think about what that would mean. What that would change. The single act of lifting the humming orange blade is a final nail in the coffin, he can never go back to the life he tried so hard to hide in.

Right now, he doesn't care. All he can see is Prauf's face going slack. All he can hear is the pounding of his heart. All he can smell is burning flesh. All he can feel is adrenaline, moving his legs forward and swinging his arm around, aiming for the Second Sister's head.

With chilling grace, she lights a second blade to her saber, blocking his strike. Prauf slides off the first blade, crumbling to the floor. Cal knows he's already dead.

"Look at this," she says, and terror freezes Cal in place, pressing his blade against hers. "A lightsaber." The last word is spat out in a snarl.

She effortlessly pushes him away. He scrambles for purchase, the rain on slick stone doing nothing for his boots. His brain screams at him to defend himself; widen his stance and lift his blade how his Master taught him to... but it's been 5 years. He barely manages to lift his lightsaber and see somewhat straight before she throws him back into the air with a solid wall of Force. It knocks the air out of his chest, spins his head, blacks out his vision for just a second until he comes to a screeching halt with the hand of the larger woman who had come with the Second Sister.

She holds him by the scruff of his poncho, the collar pressing painfully into his neck, as she lifts him high like a pesky kitten. "I found the Jedi!"

Cal blinks, the word Jedi sending tendrils of pure panic into every single one of his muscles. He blinks the spots from his vision, then grinds his teeth. With a swing, he reignites his lightsaber and blindly attempts to cut the woman down.

She doesn't give him a chance, she throws him forward with a laugh before his blade can hit, and he tumbles on the soaking stone ground. The tumble is so painful and chaotic that his Master's lightsaber falls from his hands. He tries to get to his feet, but there's sudden, spine bending pressure on his back; it forces his torso and stomach down to the ground, pinning him like an insect collector's newest specimen. He scrambles, stomach clenching and twisting, heart in his throat, trying to reach his lightsaber or at least throw the woman's boot off from the small of his back, but her weight presses down on him, crushing him.

The familiar sound of a lightsaber being ignited rakes its claws down his nerve endings, desperation becoming poison as the hum of the blade gets closer, resting between his jaw and shoulder like a lazy threat. He gasps and becomes still, the heat of the blade practically threatening to boil the rain on his skin; the red light nearly blinding.

"Pathetic," the woman sneers, pressing down on his back further until he's sure the pressure will snap something. "Thought you'd put up more of a fight, scrap rat."

She lifts the blade, and for a second, the body-freezing terror makes it easy to accept what he knows will come next. The Galaxy turns slowly, and the rain nearly stops mid-air. He can see the other scrappers standing back, still at gunpoint from some of the black suited troopers. The Second Sister stands by coldly, looking entirely unphased in her smooth posture. The other woman screams, slamming her blade down at what will surely be his neck; and he waits for it.

"Wait."

The saber freezes, he can feel the tip mere breaths from the back of his neck.

"This rat is not worth our time," the woman snarls, but she does as she's told. Cal gets the feeling that the Second Sister, whoever she is, is ranked higher than every other imperial on this cliff edge. Perhaps, on the entire planet.

"He's young, Ninth Sister. Inexperienced. His emotions are so loud. He's..." The Second Sister walks toward them, her pace unbothered and almost effortless. She stops when her boot lands over Cal's lightsaber hilt. It's all he can see. He can practically hear the metal creek over the thundering rain. She doesn't break it, however, she keeps her weight perfectly balanced to only threaten. "Impressionable."

She bends down, slightly, bringing her emotionless helmet inside his field of view. Cal watches with a sick feeling as she looks down at the weapon beneath her boot, then back up at him.

"You couldn't have been older than a child," she says. "Who was your master, Padawan?"

When he doesn't answer, her voice grows saccharine.

"Someone I killed, perhaps? What Jedi gave their life so that you might live?"

Cal's been in hiding for a long time, but Bracca is practically a central beating heart of the Galaxies Mid Rim. Hyperspace lanes litter the system, bringing all kinds of people and a constant stream of Imperial manpower. Cal tended to avoid sticking his nose into anything that could possibly out him as a Jedi, but he's heard things, here and there.

People with red lightsabers; those who wield the Force and hunt their own. They slaughter and torture Jedi, and they're merciless about it.

Inquisitor, his brain finally supplies. They're called Inquisitors.

He wonders, distantly, how many Jedi this woman has killed. How many the Ninth Sister has. How many Jedi, good Jedi, Jedi that made it to Knighthood and Masters and hell, maybe even Council Members... fell by these traitor's hands?

What hope does he have? He was only a Padawan. He's weaker now than what he was as a Padawan. His swordsmanship is rusty, and his ability to connect to the Force is shattered... he's doomed.

That realization must show on his face, because the Second Sister laughs. She stands, shifting her foot and bringing his lightsaber up to her hand with a tug of the Force. Then, she silently lifts a single hand. The troopers behind her get into a quick stance, raising their blasters, and killing the other scrappers before Cal can even blink.

He screams as he watches them fall. He's barely even aware as the Second Sister cooly tells some of the troopers to restrain him. He watches as the others fall; some, he'd worked with. Some he talked too, perhaps not daily, but enough to where he knows their name, he knows them in the memories of borrowed tools or brushes of clothes against the bare skin of his arms.

Dead.

Because of him.

The Ninth Sister releases her foot, but he's quickly crowded by black garbed troopers. They wrench his arms behind his back, snapping something cold against his wrists. He has just a moment to feel echoes of fear, resignation, futility, loss, before the cuffs lock on, completely tearing the Force from him.

Everything goes silent, for just a moment. His mind is completely his own. Even as the troopers haul him up to his feet, the plates of their armor have no stories to tell. As a youngling, a Padawan, as a newly alone and terrified scrapper, he would have given anything to not be constantly hounded by thoughts and feelings that weren't his own... but with it torn away like this? With Prauf's body, all the bodies of good people, laying on the ground with holes through their vital organs?

He's never felt so alone.

"Call for a prisoner transport," the Second Sister says to her troopers. "We're bringing this one to Fortress Inquisitorius."

#jedi fallen order #cal kestis #trilla suduri #jin writes #star wars jedi fallen order #fanfiction

[spaceprincessem]

soft prompt sunday

i know this is supposed to be seven sentence sunday, but i haven’t started any new fics yet (hoping to start a new wip tomorrow!) so i figured i would do a lil something different and post one of the soft prompts since @mumucow and i haven challenged each other to do one weekly. 

thanks to @spotsandsocks @alyxmastershipper and @shortsighted-owl for the tag 🥰😘 have some tsunami feels on this fine sunday

3. “Just…hold my hand?”

“You know,” Eddie says quietly, gently, stepping next to Buck, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, “you don’t have to do this.”

Buck blows out a slow breath, the tightness in his chest growing stronger the longer he stands right on the edge of the waterline. His bare feet sink into the wet sand, but he’s still right out of reach of the thin film of white that crests at the tip of the water. The air is heavy with salt, but the day is cool as the sun starts to set in the horizon. The sunset is gorgeous; streaks of red, orange, and yellow painted with swatches of soft pink illuminate the sky. He’s made it to this exact spot several times before, each one almost erupting in some form of a near panic attack that keeps him in the driver’s side of the Jeep well past the dip of the sun and the dotting of stars in an indigo sky. 

It seems stupid, really, how much the water still terrifies him. How he still wakes up in the middle of the night, clutching his chest; his lungs drenched and drowning. How Christopher’s name dies off in a scream and his heart bottoms out in his stomach at the memory of Eddie’s face when he told his best friend that he lost his son. 

“Yes I do,” Buck manages through gritted teeth.

He needs to face his fears, maybe then he can actually get a decent night’s sleep. It was either this or roll beneath the firetruck and the thought alone of the last one had him heaving into his bathroom sink. 

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs, still a steady presence by his side.

Buck relaxes a little when Eddie presses in next to him, a line of heat where their shoulders meet. Buck’s always felt like it’s him against the world (the universe really) and that sentiment only seemed to grow and fester like a poisoned weed in his brain when he isolated himself from the team during the lawsuit. He’s used to doing things on his own, never really needed anyone to get by. Wanted, most definitely, but not needed. It was a lesson he learned the hard way all of his childhood.

But now, with Eddie beside him, and the promise of a dinner out at one of their favorite restaurants to celebrate Hen’s birthday, Buck doesn’t feel so alone. The loneliness ebbs and flows like the waves in front of him. Sometimes it’s calm and aching and sometimes it’s tumultuous and crashing. But Buck survived. For better or worse he survived and he saved Christopher and countless others even when he doesn’t always believe it. 

So he owes it to himself, he thinks, to try. Maybe then he’ll start to feel like he deserves to have people like Christopher and Eddie and the 118 in his life.

“Just…hold my hand?” Buck asks, hoping it doesn’t sound as pathetic as it feels.

Eddie’s face breaks into a warm smile, eyes a beautiful brown in the dying light of the sun. He reaches in the space between them, tangling their fingers together. Buck tries not to think about how their hands fit perfectly together, like they were made that way. 

“Okay,” Buck exhales, “okay.”

He takes a step forward and Eddie follows. The water is cold, and Buck fights the full body flinch, knowing he isn’t very successful. Eddie sweeps his thumb over Buck’s skin and it’s enough to keep him moving. He stops when the water hits his knees, the impact of the waves not hard enough to throw him off balance, but enough to know that if he gets any further he might start hyperventilating.

“Not too bad?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to catch Buck’s gaze.

“No,” Buck hums, squeezing Eddie’s hand, “not too bad at all.”

They watch the sun slowly sink below the horizon and Eddie never lets go of his hand until they’re back at the Jeep.

sorry i feel lazy and i feel like everyone has been tagged so feel free to share something!!!

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz