#this goes even bigger than i originally anticipated

[ponett]

i've also been answering slarpg-related questions over on my retrospring account lately (which basically serves as a twitter ask box for me), so here are some of those! this includes factoids about the main cast, lore questions, and design and writing questions! (there are also some light spoilers for the game here - if you've played through act ii you're probably good)

Since Reverie is a world where magic can do all kinds of crazy things, how come trans people dont use some type of transformation magic in their transition? We see that Melody has to take her hormones so I'm assuming transition here works the same way as in reality. Is magical transformation unstable or dangerous in a similar way to getting too much magic too quickly is? Or in a more meta sense was this just a conscious choice to keep that aspect of the trans experience grounded in how it goes in real life?

it was the latter. a lot of details exist in the world to make the lives of the characters feel more grounded in reality and to play into the modern fantasy vibe. like, why do they just have regular cell phones and computers instead of some fantastical equivalent or just beaming messages to each other telepathically? because that's the brand of fantasy i'm going for. does transformation magic exist in the world? sure, but then you get less of that "wow she's just like me fr" factor

reverie also isn't supposed to be a utopian world where all of the problems we have on earth have been solved, even with the existence of magic. allison still has to pay rent, harmful ideologies still exist, and, yes, melody is still going through HRT instead of just casting the boob spell and being done with it

(but for the record, on reverie medicine IS made with magic, so it's quite possible it's more potent than what we have because of it)

Do you think more comics can be anticipated in the future?

i won't rule out the possibility but we also don't have plans for more right now

Hey whatever happened to "The Whacker"?

it had an internal mana reserve that was depleted when melody cast that big spell in the comic so now it's kinda useless

The Notice Board in Greenridge -- I'm curious, was it ever meant to be more than the couple quests it gives you? (Or, at least, I only ever say the couple, lest I missed something.) I'm mostly curious as it seemed like something that would update over time, but never did. Figured it was just one of those things that never got as fleshed out as perhaps initially envisioned, likely due to time constraints.

the notice board was something added between early alpha builds of act ii. i had recently added the quest log and wanted to do something with that to test it out, and i also wanted the friends who'd already playtested the amber woods to have something new to do in the area. i did, in fact, assume that there would be more small side quests via the notice board in act iv, as well as some similar side quests in the wasteland, but work on the main story and the major side quests took so long and the game was already so much bigger than i had originally expected that adding more small fetch quests was deprioritized. as it stands now it's effectively a tutorial for the fact that sometimes you'll have secondary objectives aside from the main story, and that you can track them in the quest log

i definitely would've liked to do more side quests in general, but act iv already has so much more content than people expect that it would probably only hurt the pacing of the game to add even more side quests before the final dungeon

i will also say that i considered removing the notice board and just letting you get the two quests from the NPCs since it does stand out that it isn't used more, but the gag with pepper's request only works if there's a notice and i didn't wanna cut that

is there any Javis backstory that you have but just never put into slarpg, or was he always just Some Weird Dude and that's that?

he doesn't have a fully fleshed out backstory or anything but i do have more info about his origins than what's conveyed in the game. i'm sitting on it for now

How good are the main four (plus any other NPCs you like) at drawing?

melody: not good, but it'll be recognizable

allison: not a professional by any stretch, but loved to doodle in her notebook in school

claire: comically bad

jodie: shockingly good due to her experience drawing blueprints and designing armor as a blacksmith, but it's not a skill she even consciously thinks about having. in her mind faith is the artist

bobby what happened with the room off to the west in mumford inn. why did it exist at all if it was just being renovated all the time lol

i put the door in the middle of the building on the exterior art but then didn't have anything to put off to the left side of the interior

So here's a worldbuilding question: How many gods does Reverie have? Is it a (relatively) small pantheon where each member has wide-reaching power or is more like Greek mythology where you have both the big guys and minor gods for every increasingly specific possible domain? If it's the former, who are those gods? What domains do they claim? If it's the latter, who are the major players?

reverie has a small number of gods who each represent a big concept. i'm currently avoiding specifying too much about them to allow myself creative freedom on future stories, rather than deciding on and sharing 100% of my worldbuilding up front and being beholden to that forever

So we know what Allison's preferred weapon is (SWORD), but what does kind(s) of weapon does her mother Amelia use when she gets into scuffles? This may or may not be important for a fanfiction which I am writing.

she also generally prefers swords but will use just about anything. i see her as a jack of all trades when it comes to both fighting and magic - kind of like a red mage

Since most of the cast’s family/past is brought up at least in passing… Is there a reason we never hear about Melody’s? Or am I missing something? All I recall hearing was that she was constantly bullied and Allison stood up for her.

it just wasn't really necessary for the story or her character arc in the way that other characters' families were relevant, so i didn't want to commit to anything about them and potentially write myself into a corner in the future. i'll probably figure out what her family is like someday (and why we haven't seen them), when it feels necessary to do so

part of me also worried that melody might be interpreted as younger than she actually is (or that the game might automatically get more of a "YA" vibe) if one of the first things you see in the game is that she still lives with her parents, even though, like... she's a 22-year-old with no job. she shouldn't be able to afford her own house. where'd she get the house? who knows! but i wanted it to be clear up front that she's an independent adult, so she lives on her own, away from her parents

beyond that, if her family's in greenridge, then her parents become characters whose status you'd have to worry about throughout the game as certain things happen in and around greenridge. they're additional pieces on the chess board. where are they at any given time? where do they live if not with melody? why did melody move out? how do they feel about what's going on? are they worried about melody's safety? are THEY safe? how are these relationships affected by what's happening? it's a lot of additional character work that needs to be done for the sake of supporting characters that just weren't important to the arc i wanted to give melody

I see in Allison's character bio on the SLARPG website that she likes Fighting games… Which ones does she play and who would she main?

allison like the really flashy stuff like mvc or arcsys games. she would main dante in umvc3, and i-no in guilty gear because she wishes she could fight with a guitar irl

what SLARPG character has motion smoothing turned on on their tv?

jodie did until the exact day claire moved in

#ask #slarpg asks

[denimbex1986]

'As we get ever closer to the brand new Christmas episode of Doctor Who, more snippets of information and interesting anecdotes about the show continue to come out – and, quite frankly, it's something Whovians will never tire of.

Is there any better feeling than discovering a lesser-known fact about one of your favourite series? We think not, and with the help of Imagine... Russell T Davies: The Doctor and Me, fans have found out even more about the sci-fi than they could have... well, imagined.

One of the most intriguing parts of the one-off special was the admission that David Tennant originally only wanted a minor role in Doctor Who, perhaps as some kind of monster that would only appear for a day.

That's right, the fan favourite Doctor could've been little more than a temporary villain, but showrunner Russell T Davies had faith in the actor – so much so that he didn't even ask Tennant to audition for the role.

Speaking about the casting process for Tennant, Davies said in the Imagine episode that he was "already working with him on Casanova, and he turned out to be a Doctor Who fan".

Tennant continued: "I finally was on set and met Russell – one of the first things I said to him was, 'If there’s any little walk-ons in Doctor Who, I’d be very happy to come and wave a tentacle in a suit for a day.'"

But Davies clearly couldn't see the tentacle vision for Tennant, saying: "In my mind, he kind of melded over and became the Doctor quite naturally. There was no audition for him, it was a simple offer."

Of course, fans most recently got to see Tennant return to Doctor Who as the Fourteenth Doctor, being part of a surprise bigeneration with the Fifteenth Doctor, Ncuti Gatwa.

The new Imagine episode goes behind the scenes of Doctor Who as fans gear up for not just a much-anticipated goblin-filled Christmas special, but also a brand new series with Gatwa and Millie Gibson at the helm.

According to the synopsis for the episode: "Imagine… follows one of Britain’s most celebrated TV writers as he prepares to once again return as the showrunner of Doctor Who.

"Back in 2005, Davies was responsible for relaunching the action-adventure series after many years away from our TV screens. Few could have imagined the phenomenon it became. And now, in the programme’s 60th anniversary year, he’s back – with two Doctors and bigger ambitions.

"Imagine… goes behind the scenes at Cardiff’s Bad Wolf Studios to see the adventures of the time travelling hero being filmed, touring the enormous sound stages and meeting Ncuti Gatwa, the 15th Doctor, ahead of his eagerly anticipated tenure as the Time Lord following the unexpected regeneration of David Tennant."

It continues: "Doctor Who is just one of Russell T Davies’s many TV successes, and Alan Yentob traces the evolution of his writing, from his beginnings in BBC children’s TV to finding his voice as a queer writer on Channel 4’s landmark gay series Queer as Folk and to more recent successes, including 2021’s critically acclaimed AIDS drama, It’s a Sin.

"The film also features interviews with David Tennant, Catherine Tate, Ncuti Gatwa, Helena Bonham Carter, Olly Alexander, Sally Wainwright and Caitlin Moran."'

#Doctor Who #David Tennant #Imagine... #Casanova #Russell T. Davies #Alan Yentob #Catherine Tate #Olly Alexander #Sally Wainwright #Ncuti Gatwa #Millie Gibson #Caitlin Moran #Bi-generation

[lee-hakhyun]

when 1863!hsy was writing TWSA, her dreams got sent back to child hsy since, you know. they were sharing a body. so hsy wrote SSSS-grade regressor, a story that she absolutely INSISTS is not plagiarised, because as far as she knew, it wasn’t. the stories came from her dreams.

if lee hakhyun took the world of ORV from his dreams, too, does the fact that the dreams came from somewhere else make it any less his own work? the same way that just because 51 and 49 were split, did that make 49 not ‘really’ kim dokja? it’s still his story, in the end, but in both instances the person who was deemed the ‘liar’ was made to believe that he did not have the right to believe it was part of his identity. even though it was. even though he had more right to it than anyone else.

when it comes to a person’s past, it’s near impossible to completely deny it happened; it leaves a mark of its own, even if you change your name or your appearance. it’s still a life you lived, and so its claws will always reach out for you again. but you can re-define it. you can’t cut out the pages, but you can always make the story your own again.

in the future, were lee hakhyun’s past life ever to come to light, he might find himself trapped in a state of self-doubt again; ‘I’m not even really Lee Hakhyun, was I ever really who I thought I was?’ but he was, and he is; just as he is a fragment of kim dokja (same as many other readers, just a bigger fragment than anticipated), he is also an author of orv (who… actually, when you remember the theory of kim dokja himself having added in the bits that none of kimcom could have known, this has horrifying implications). he wrote stories about a wish still being your story, he made drafts that didn’t make it into han sooyoung’s ‘final cut’ but still managed to come fuck him over anyway. a wish becomes a self-exploration becomes discovery of the self. everything that came before remains a part of your story, but you can still write something new and choose what it means for yourself.

i am projecting my own gender issues, yeah :D talking as a person that wrote a non-binary character to find out if that was really what i wanted or not,,, writing is good for that. it helps you explore situations in a safe space that doesn’t physically harm you or others

even if he wasn't the original author he is still an author. and even if not of the main story, this side story is definitely his. multiple times it's mentioned that the story has left han sooyoung's hands at this point, and she even mentions that she doesn't like the story continuing with developments she's no longer aware of

for his identity issues, he really just needs someone to affirm to him that he's himself. when kim dokja told him 'you're lee hakhyun' it really affected him (in a good way), i'm sure his companions will help him out if anything goes wrong (he just needs to. actually tell them...) maybe being in orv will actually help him find a sense of self. even before he transmigrated, it seemed like after orv, he didn't really have any idea of where to go

incitement or not, he's still making his own story

also, about lhh's orv. him having stuff in the manuscript that was cut out later, that means that not everything that was uploaded to the cloud was put into orv. han sooyoung also mentioned that orv failed on some worldlines, so i'm thinking that orv might have been written differently depending on the author. the major story would still be there, but small details might have been omitted/changed.. maybe even the orv we read is different from the one that lhh wrote. if this is true, the orv that lhh wrote would be successful in part because of his writing (and ji eunyu's editing!) ..that might also be an explanation for the original/web novel changes, different versions of the story due to authors writing orv a different way with the information they were given from the cloud.

and since i don't feel making a separate post, i have an idea on what might appear in the side story lee hakhyun mentioned a collaboration with his previous works in the prologue chapter.. there's a chance that might come true in the side story. other author's stories can show up in orv (peaceland), so why not lee hakhyun's?

#ask #orv side story #orv spoilers #orv #so much to think about

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

back in your ask box!!! i watched your final thoughts for yakuza 1 video (well done on being able to stand some of the glitches like god) and i was wondering if you had any more that you forgot to say or didn’t think of in the moment? i just really love hearing people’s final thoughts on game or other piece of media

That video ended up getting WAY sappier than I expected in the end but I seriously should've seen it coming TBH. I'm a sappy person at heart and anyway let's not get too sidetracked.

So I will say I definitely forgot to mention the camera. Having no control over the camera does mess with me quite a bit. Because Kiryu will turn around and you'll notice in the videos I uploaded of fights-he sometimes just stops hitting enemies. They're gone. Lots of times enemies would get stuck behind wall and other objects. I was also constantly checking the map in the menu itself, because I kept getting directions mixed up.

Not a game breaker, does make for some intense awkwardness. (Some of it's my own fault, I am hardly the gaming champion around here ahaha)

Combat got repetitive. My own fault because as I said in the video, I didn't finish Komaki's training thanks to the input issue. I had other skills I developed too, but I wasn't ever remembering to pull it off. So I didn't vary it to the degree I could've.

At the ending, I was going to finish the hostesses but I messed myself up there because you have Haruka permanently in the endgame. And her bond with Kiryu decreases if he goes to those places (it dropped when I bought weapons at Beam) and I feel bad making her sad so that was my own issue.

There is one place where the original game is better than Kiwami that is..going to probably be a 'hot take' but-not having Majima ambush you every twenty seconds makes for a less stressful game experience overall. You can get from point A to point B with only the standard street goons (which are VERY persistent you can barely get around the block without at least two ambushes: and they have bigger enemies that are in larger groups) but those fights are fairly quick, and pay well!

Majima, meanwhile, can seriously drag out. It's not as bad in the beginning but you'll come up to the end of Kiwami like "please..just one break..I do not have any more healing items."

For RGG'S first game out of the gate, it's good. I enjoyed it more than I expected too. It's all the same elements I love with Yakuza (as I had sapped about in the video) and the characters are recognizable, even in this rougher around the edges stage.

The dub itself is a strange point. As I said, again in the video, I've done some digging on it. The localization is considered decent, (apparently 'hit some balls' is translated as accurately as it could be) but that excessive swearing really shoves it into the 'trying to hard B movie' stuff. HOWEVER.

It has a GOOD cast and there's times where it's done really well. I don't have the kind of professional experience to claim someone is 'phoning in a performance'. I can't make that call. Not all line deliveries are very good, and there's some odd changes between how characters talk from beginning to end. There was one point near the end where Kiryu delivered a couple lines and sounded like a completely different person?? It was odd.

Directing is where it really shows. I feel like with the voices behind it, and the localization team, had it been given better directing, it would've been a bit I guess. stronger? I feel it's important to keep in mind too with it being the first game (and RGG wasn't some triple A studio back in the day either) they did pretty good.

;)

The games good! It's fun, it's recognizable. and I honestly think that if I had gone into Yakuza with this as my first game, I'd still be here. I got into Yakuza via Yakuza 0 and have since gone through the entire series. It's very important and special to me and I genuinely enjoyed Yakuza 1 more than I expected.

I didn't anticipate hating it, of course. But I was still a little surprised regardless since it is so infamous in the fandom. My only regret is that unless you own a PS2 or a really good emulator, so many people can't play it. Which is a shame overall. That's not unique to this and Kiwami, the remake is out there and known. But still. Sometimes I get a little sad about how hard game preservation has gotten.

#yakuza #yakuza 1 #asks #answered asks #SORRRY I RAMBLED

[jasonsstuffiguess]

Undertale: The Royal Hunt, my ongoing, novel-length, darker take on Undertale, has its 5 year anniversary today

("The Royal Hunt Cover Art" was drawn by SkyBr1ght on Deviantart and commissioned by me)

So today on December 29th 2018, five years ago, I published the first chapter of what would eventually take over so much of my life.

The Royal Hunt is part of my "Shattering AU", and is a darker(not necessarily "more mature") take on the Undertale universe. Originally conceived as an "edge fest", it quickly took on a life of its own, becoming larger and bigger than I anticipated, going places I didn't even plan at first when the story was just a "rough draft".

I have even commissioned many artworks for it, the cover art above(once again by the lovely SkyBr1ght on Deviantart) is just one example.

It is currently the length of a novel with 300K words and counting, yet I estimate this story to only be 1/3rd of the way there.

And that's not counting all the spin-offs and prequels I have planned, plus a few one-shots once I eventually finish this fic.

Anyway, if you're new here and have no clue what The Royal Hunt is:

Thanks for scrolling/reading this far. Must mean you're interested.

You're probably wondering "what" this fanfic is about.

Well, let me tell you.

In The Royal Hunt, Frisk finds herself in The Underground Kingdom as the other story goes. But in this timeline, she arrives much later as a 16-year-old teenage girl, and now, The Underground has fallen into a dark, oppressive dictatorship with an unseen ruler, and a group of knights known as "The Royal Hunt", the darker, crueller successor group to the now defunct "Royal Guard", filled with some of the worst monsterkind has to offer, working as judge, jury, and often executioner, wandering zone to zone, hunting dissidents, rebels, and the occasional human for "capturing". They are led by a ruthless, mysterious warrior known only as "Mad Mickey". And now, Frisk must traverse this dangerous kingdom, with a strange power over life and death, while reality seems to break at times around her. She has few friends, and her guide through this alien, magical kingdom, and one of the only ones she can truly trust... is a snarky little talking flower named Flowey.

That is only the start, and there are many unknown changes and mysteries afoot. Including the "return" of one many call "Gaster".

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17214008/chapters/40477898

Fanfiction.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13162006/1/Undertale-The-Royal-Hunt

Deviantart link: https://www.deviantart.com/tomandjay/gallery/74210874/undertale-shattering-au-the-royal-hunt

The early chapters are pretty rough and are in the process of being updated and rewritten.

(And there's plenty of OCs and a lot of queerness as well, no worries. I even made some characters queer, like Sans is Aro, and MK is NB)

#undertale #frisk #undertale au #ut au #undertale multiverse #frisk undertale #fanfiction #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #ao3fic #fanfic #undertale fanfiction #undertale fandom #flowey #monster kid

[lake-archive]

Chapter 3 - Fyriend?

AO3 Link - Wattpad Link

Fandom: Ensemble Stars

Series: Liebesdrama

Characters: Nyeli (OC) (by @watersofcamelot), Subaru Akehoshi, Hokuto Hidaka, RItsu Sakuma (mentioned)

Summary: Nyeli has taken a look at some photos of Ritsu’s last year at school. One of those photos showed someone with cat ears, just like his own… And thus he is eager to meet that person and make a friend similar to himself!

Tags: Original non human male character, Platonic, Developing Friendship, Platonic Relationships, Major Original Character, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited

Words: 1,902

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

It was like a miracle when Nyeli had taken a look at some photos Papa had lying around. He came across them when having accidentally kicked something over and wanting to clean it up yet instead ended up staring eagerly at some photos his Papa had for some reason. Though it was interesting all the same, seeing his past school year go down and he looked at each of them more eagerly than the last. However, there was one picture in particular which had gotten the kitty’s attention. According to Papa this was from last year’s halloween show at his school, where they had some sort of duel with… Uhm… With… What was the name again? It was complicated, that much Nyeli knew. Something with Trick… Trick… Tricktreater!? Wait no… Papa said this unit is still active, not just on Halloween, so they didn’t have ‘treat’ in their unitname. A missed opportunity in the kitty’s opinion but what can you do? 

Either way, not important! The important thing was that one guy Nyeli saw in the pictures, a black haired boy wearing a costume… And having cat ears just like his! He never thought that he would be able to meet anyone like him. Sure, the guy was bigger than Nyeli but he was still curious! In fact, when hearing he goes to the same school as Papa Nyeli just had to sneak himself into said bag yet again and follow along. But this time not to accompany Papa… Ok maybe a little but Nyeli wanted to take a look either way. 

Thus he peeked his head out once inside the classroom and hopped out of the bag, surprised Papa did not notice, tapping around to see if he could spot the guy. In fact Nyeli carried the pic along in his nubs, just tapping across the classroom. But nothing… Not even a sign of him. Was he not Papa’s classmate? The thought made the kitty pout, this was going to be a longer search than he had anticipated… He didn’t like it. He cannot sniff the guy out either, not knowing his scent. 

This led the kitty across a walk through school, something he was actually used to. He had walked around campus before and explored it. He came across many faces already… Including that weird smelling bully who talks as if he had a voice crack at the end of his sentences. It was unsettling to listen to… So Nyeli liked making the bully’s life a hell by playing pranks on him here and there. Plus his reactions were funny. But no, today he wasn’t going to bother the bully… Unless there was a chance. But he had a mission today! 

As for how long Nyeli walked, he didn’t know. He was tapping past various people with the picture in hand, too stubborn to ask who this was. He is a big kitty! He can handle this himself! No need for any help! But nothing, no luck. Nowhere at all, no matter where he looked… Uh… Was this guy not here? Did Nyeli miss his chance to make a friend?

The thought alone made his ears droop while slowly tapping through the hallway, almost distraught. He even let out a weak ‘nye’, about to give up hope. And yet, not having even noticed, he was suddenly lifted off the ground. It had him in a panic, struggling in the air, moving his tiny feet around even. “Ny… Nye!? Nye nye nye!? Papa! Nyeee!” He cried yet it seemed to have fallen on somewhat deaf ears with a sudden laugh.

“Ahaha! I found a stray cat!” The mysterious voice echoed right in Nyeli’s cat ears, so overly cheerful and upbeat. “Hey buddy, don’t be scared! I’m not gonna hurt you! Promise~”

Was this any reassuring? Actually, a little. Nyeli sensed no ill intent in the voice, making him stop kicking his feet against the air and wag his ears ever so curiously instead. 

“Hey hey, why are you here? Did you get lost or something?” The voice asked while turning the kitty around, both coming face to face. It was a young guy with messy orange hair and blue eyes as well as a bright smile. Wait… He looked familiar… Hold on, did Nyeli see him before? Maybe in one of Papa’s pictures? Uh… He doesn’t remember but he thought he saw that guy from somewhere. And thinking about it made the cat’s head hurt, or at least almost.

However, before the smoll regained his bearings the tall boy had taken note of the picture in his nubs it seemed. “Are you delivering something?” He asked thought that was met with a headshake. “No? Then what’s that in your hands? Hey hey, can I see? Maybe I can help you~”

One word, help… Nyeli was about to be pouty, not wanting any sort of help but he remembered the many steps he took, up and down… Uh, it was exhausting and he was about to get hungry from that. Does he have a choice? Guh… Maybe big kitties need help too… Or so Gramps would maybe say. Gramps’ wisdom never fails to be honest. 

So, Nyeli gave in at the end, not answering verbally but instead turning the picture around in his nubs, making the boy stare for a few moments at it. There was silence between them for a few moments, the kitty’s ears wagging eagerly for an answer until suddenly…

“Oh, that’s Hokke! Are you looking for him?” The boy asked.

The cat nodded eagerly which was met with a laugh shortly after. “You want to meet him huh? Ok, I can take you to him if you want~” 

Nyeli’s ears perked up by then, ever so curious. That guy knew the other one? What are the odds? Thus he nodded quickly, wanting to get there! Maybe while being carried… 

The door slammed open before knowing it, the door to a classroom. It was opened in one swoop and the boy carrying Nyeli yelled: “Hokke! A cat wants to see you!” His tone was not losing its cheerfulness, far from it, yet it was quite loud and echoed in his own cat ears. 

Not to mention that the other students inside the classroom were all looking for a moment. It was almost intimidating and the kitty was about to hide somewhere, wanting to jump off. And yet there was no reason to in the end when hearing someone else say: “Akehoshi, I thought we went over this!” 

It made the kitty perk his ears up in one go before looking over, first sparkling with excitement. Wait, that’s it! That’s the guy in the photo! So Nyel was excited! But that didn’t last for long as before he knew it there was nothing when he looked up, right on the head. No ears? Wait, no ears? How? He compared the image and the real life equivalent as the two guys were talking about something.. Honestly, he did not pay much attention to it.

It was a back and forth, all confused. Did he get it wrong? Was that a double? Could it be? There were no ears! Was it a fraud? Was he being lied to!? Should Nyeli refund his time! Wait, you can’t refund time, can you!? Uh… That was… Not what Nyeli expected, at all. And he thought he found one of his kind, a cat hybrid! But no! He was ready to pout and he did, ears drooping even. What joke was this? This picture was a lie! It’s all a lie! His life is a lie! … Wait no, that’d be a little too far… His life was not a lie, or else Sisnya and Papa would be a lie too. But they are not. 

He would be brought back to reality however when the raven haired male asked: “Besides, where did you get that cat from Akehoshi?”

“Huh? This guy?” The orange haired boy, assumingly known as Akeho… ho… Uh… This was a mouthful. Akenya! Yeah, Nyeli will just call him Akenya! Anyway, he began with a question yet then added while holding Nyeli up to come face to face with the other guy: “This little guy wanted to see you Hokke!”

Oh, his name is Hokknye, noted. So it was Hokknye’s eyelid twitching, a glare of disbelief on his face. “He what? Are you making stuff up now?”

“No no! He told me! Right?”

But no answer from Nyeli, only pouting. Well yeah but this was a lie! This picture was fake! He didn’t want to anymore! He had just been lied to! Or so he thought.

“Hey, help me here! Show him the picture!” Akenya almost insisted but nothing. 

“Hah, quit it already Akehoshi. Instead we should look for his owner. What if he got lost?” Hokknye suggested, maybe he has no idea. Papa was here at school! But Nyeli wasn’t going to talk! He only pouted more, even turning his head away like a stubborn child.

“Oh come on! Give him a warm welcome! Maybe he’s being pouty because of you!” 

“Wha— I didn’t do anything though!”

“Maybe you’re scaring him or something! Try to smile! Come on come on!”

“Wha— That makes no sense you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Akenya insisted before looking back at Nyeli, about to continue asking: “Say say, are you sacred of—”

Yet he suddenly fell silent, suddenly looking around. First at the picture, then at Nyeli, then probably at Hokknye. This continued for some time, even making Nyeli have his pout fade into obscurity, staring curiously at the guy carrying the kitty still. So much looking back and forth until his own eyes went wide for a second, as if having just noticed something. “Oh… Wait… That’s why.” He even mumbled, confusing the other two for a second yet he added soon enough with a cheerful grin: “Haha, you see little guy, Hokke can hide his ears!”

This made the kitty suddenly lift his ears up, wagging curiously. Wait… Hokknye can hide his ears!? Was that true!? 

“Hah!? Akehoshi, what are you—”

“Yes yes! He hides them because they’re super sensitive!” Akenya interrupted quickly, seeming to signal something with his gaze yet Nyeli was too much in awe to notice what exactly. Instead he wagged ever so curiously, wanting to hear more. Besides, it made sense if put it that way! So Hokknye was wiser and older than him! Then again, he was all grown unlike Nyeli, that made sense to him. 

And on top of that Nyeli was soon pat by Akenya, softly, which put the kitty in a better mood. “You can relate, can’t you?”

“That—”

“Hey, how about you come over tomorrow and he can show you his ears!” Akenya suggested however, not allowing Hokknye to have a word in this. Fine by Nyeli though, this was something he could agree on! Thus he nodded upon the pats. “Nye~!” He even let out, agreeing. So this picture was not a lie. It was just a precaution in case the ears would be touched! He could fully understand because sometimes Nyeli had too much when his ears were rubbed too. Hokknye was smart! Yeah, Nyeli wants to make fyriends with him as soon as possible!

“Akehoshi… Did you seriously have to—”

“Play along Hokke… Pretty please~?”

“Bu— Ok fine, I will… What other choice do I have at this point?”

#Nimue's lake #ensemble stars #enstars #enstars oc #ensemble stars oc #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #ensemble stars fanfic #ensemble stars fic #ensemble stars fanfiction #enstars fanfiction #enstars fanfic #enstars fic #subaru akehoshi #akehoshi subaru #enstars subaru #hokuto hidaka #hidaka hokuto #enstars hokuto #I am aware that the first three chapters have been released in a messy order but bare with me! #I originally planned it as a short yet it kinda fit into the bigger picture I want to go for!

[ninjakitty2988]

 Chapter 17 you are my sunshine

With fluff and lots of smutty teasing from kyo,

Minors don't react 

Innocently tucking your arms under your breasts, hauling them up, making them bigger, pouting your lips, Kyojuro is finding it very troublesome to resist himself from getting stimulated by your actions. You take a deep breath and try to calm down "fine then until I get another uniform this will have to do!" Kyojuro prompts you out of your room and laces your fingers in his. 

You walk down the hall feeling a little self-conscious, Uzui walks by and sees the both of you, knowing that he's gonna tease the both of you so you brace yourself. "Don't even bother saying a single word Tengan, this isn't the type of uniform I prefer to wear!" Uzui smirks "I can tell you're not impressed, but Rengoku doesn't seem to mind the perspective, besides if you got it flaunt it!" Slight dust of pink spreads across your cheeks, and Kyojuro squeezes your hand to console you. You lift your head and glance at his hooded eyes. "Kyo are you ok?" He snaps out of thought "yes I am ok, Tengan my friend I will see you later!" He walks off and you follow behind.

The fresh morning breeze taluses your hair, and you inhale the crisp air trying to steady your nerves. You do some light stretching with Kyojuro to warm up the muscles to impede any unwarranted injuries. Kyojuro grabs you a training sword he's always wanted to see how much you have progressed he's anticipated to see how your mood changes in the heat of battle, since your usual behaviour is gentle and mild. You thank Kyojuro and grip the wooden sword, with a flash of recollections of how you and Kyojuro used to be Shinjuro Rengoku's Tusgoku. It was difficult to work but Shinjuro was a little softer with you than his sons. 

Now that Kyojuro is an adult himself, his flame-like blonde locks having vibrant portions of red mixed in his signature hair, his golden and crimson orbs just like his father and younger brother Senjuro, you simply adore that kid yet his character is timid yet thoughtful. 

The Rengoku males have all had the same eyes and hair for many generations that you don't know how long. You understand that Ruka Rengoku goes through a ritual of staring at the flame on a candle for hours without end during pregnancy called kankagari! You recollected knowing how she was wise and gentle yet graceful, opposite to Shinjuro with his noisy personality, much like how Kyojuro is yet you recognize that Kyojuro may have the look of his origin but he acts kind and caring that has a lot of his mother's perspective.

You swing the wooden sword in the orientations of the nine flame breathing techniques. Your skills are not quite up to the standard that Kyojuro would want you to be, he's the flame hashria after all. He caught sight of your lacking in the 9th form the esoteric arts stance, walking up near towards you he takes an opening to rectify you, also he's struggling to ignore the slight erection in his trousers, but seeing your buttocks and your smooth legs move around in the short skirt is clouding his mind as well. You weren't quite aware of how he was feeling only to consolidate on training and swerving your wooden sword.

When he reaches, you pause to take a second, Kyojuro press his chest on your back while encircling his arms around the sides of your ribs reaching out to put his hand over yours to guide you on how the 9th form is done more to his satisfaction. "Her let me help you my little flame, your form is off just a bit". You can feel him move slightly and your face burns to feel the slight erection growing bigger grazing it against the top of your buttocks, you blink rapidly trying to concentrate, 

Kyojuro feels his uniform get uncomfortably tighter his breathing becomes etched in your ear, compelling you unfocused, you part your lips slightly to the erotic sound of his breathing, and his voice is low and sultry and whispers "focus my little flame" once he has a firm hand over yours he guides you with the training sword, he uses the other hand touching the bare skin on your exposed uniform, he's clamped firmly against him and his erection is now pressed against you firmly making you whimper slightly as he guides you to move with him to get the stance correctly. His voice was still low but getting seductive, "Good girl, yes just like that!" 

You shift a little making the mistake of slightly grazing his clothed erection, he lets out a low growl right in your ear, and your breathing instantly becomes irregular, he's gripping the sides of your waist tightly! You rapidly admit guilt, you are unsure about how he's going to respond to you! 

Not brave enough to glance at his aroused expression, you look at the ground, you stammer "Kyo I umm..that was my fault I am so sorry I didn't mean to. He stops you and lifts your head with your hand under your chin, he wants you to see his feverish expression, you dart your eyes in a different direction, he turns your frame "look at me sunflower, please?" You flit your eyes to look at him realising he's not angry, just the very opposite, with an aroused expression across his face. He instinctively grabs your bum nudging you close to his clothed erection on your stomach you inhale sharply. You are lying if you were enjoying the actions he just did but it caught you by surprise. "I am not furious, don't be sorry or ashamed, but it's only natural to get excited by your body. I should have self-control but you're exceptionally beautiful. I can not deny that I want to explore these desires more than ever. I don't want to take advantage of you ever so my word still stands strong, only when you're willing and ready".

You nod "would it be ok if I hug you? I don't want you to lose self-control" He immediately bends down to snatch your thighs and picks you up, to drape your around his neck feeling very astounded! "Kyo! That's not what I meant by a hug I.." He kisses you on the lips greedy, roaming his hands on your back while you clutch your legs around his hips before you slip. Uzui walks out of the dojo for a quick lunch break, catches both of you and Kyojuro in the act and smirks wildly then wolf whistles "well what do we have going on here". Both of you break the kiss. He looks at you very provocatively. Bite the bottom of your lip unintentionally Kyojuro smirks at your actions and you hide your face in his neck, he grips the side of your hips firmly so you won't be getting down anytime soon.

Uzui shouts "be gentle with your flame princess there Rengoku". Kyojuro just shakes his head. Uzui smirks and saunters off for lunch. Your stomach grows, you're hungry Kyojuro's expression changes softly "hungry I see?" You move your face from his neck "yeah, I am, are you my dear?" He nods enthusiastically "yeah let's go get some lunch". You request for Kyojuro to put you down and he settles you gently down. His arousal seems to have diminished, for the time being, walking to go get lunch, Aoi prepares a range of different varieties of onigiri, some had umeboshi, and some had flaked salmon or salted cod roe.

Picking out one of each you walk off you both agreed to eat lunch under the wisteria tree. You settle down and as typical Kyojuro declare's 'umai' during each bite. 

You take a bite of the sticky seasoned rice with a piece of crisp nori seaweed wrapped around it enjoying the savoury yet balanced taste. You peep at him giggling, you pick the rice grains off his face "seems you missed your mouth!"  He grabs your wrist and looks at your fingertips and puts your fingers in your mouth and sucks off the grains of sticky rice from your fingertips removing your fingers from his mouth still holding your wrist gently he smirks and leans forward to your face "so I did, thanks sunflower" he deliberately winks at you.

Your face burns, you speculate will I ever get used to him teasing you? Presumably not but you quite enjoy the public display of affection for romance kind, it just set your heart ablaze!

You guzzle some water to cool your heated face, he positions his calloused hand at the top of your thigh, grazing gently and squeezing you, you compress your eyes knowing Kyojuro's testosterone statuses are on the rise today! You perceive it to be the uniform you're wearing. He was bluntly honest about how he felt however it wasn't your intention to make him so darn aroused! You stand up and he springs back to reality "I will take back the plates and cups". He flashes a smile at you "very well". He hands over the used plate, you take it off him gently and you walk along the garden towards the kitchen.

His eyes are hooded, drinking in your frame looking further down at your hips and your soft exposed legs and how your skirt swaying as you walk! However his erection is at its peak again, he's feeling lustful but won't yield to a desire! He tries to think of something different to distract himself, he imagines sweet potatoes and that seems to do the trick, he wants to keep his emotions in check but above all he wants to be a gentleman, he wants to make love to you respectfully.

He stands up and walks towards you as you walk through the engwana he spreads his arms out. You embrace him and he picks you up and spins you around causing you to laugh loudly, Kyojuro truly loves hearing you laugh and the sweet smile on your face makes his heart melt. He doesn't ever want to see you cry and if anyone ever tries to hurt you emotionally or physically he will be furious. He stops spinning you around and hugs you securely cradling his large hand on your head "well then my little flame, shall we carry on with training let's enhance your speed!" You lift your head "yeah that's if I can catch you!" He puts his hand under your chin "don't doubt your abilities, beside I have a little something for you after training I want you to have it!" You look perplexed and anxious. "Ohh..umm okay kyo" He holds your hand and kisses it "don't worry it's nothing to panic about." Your stomach flutters at his gesture. He runs off and you take a deep breath, "total concentration breathing here we go y/n, let's go chase your flame". You dig your heels in the ground and proceed to chase him.

You spot him increasing your acceleration he zooms off faster with a flicker of flames igniting behind him you're flabbergasted at the flame hashiras speed! There is no way you can compete with what you're gonna have to be more tactical, another thought enters your mind as you are running, how is he doing that with the flames flickering behind him? You desperately think back to the flame chronicles scolding yourself, "come on you read them over a thousand times and even wrote them out for goodness sake!" Maybe you're over-speculating. You're still running and one of the chapters enters your intellect in the books. You take a deep breath, expand your lungs to their full capacity and use full total concentration. Your speed is increasing faster than before, the flame hashira keeping himself at top speed! You feel your body temperature rising, a familiar feeling when you use one of the flame breathing techniques! Small embers and little by little flames flicker behind you! Your speed is matching kyojuro's and you soar at great heights!

 You reach out your arm to grab his wrist, you prosper, and instantly he stops! You're exhausted by a technique you never knew that you were capable of, but the first time using it was going to make you fatigued. You just need to hone that particular skill and you will be equipped to use it without getting weary! Trying to catch your breath bending over with your hands on your knees, he turns around feeling very astounded yet impressed by his little flame. "outstanding you have such potential! Rest my sunflower you did more than what you are expected to! That technique will make you very weary for the first time". Your legs feel like jelly realizing that you are going to lose consciousness, he plucks you up from underneath your breasts before you plummet. Pulling you up in his arms and carrying you over the engwana, 

Uzui looks concerned, glancing at your face "Rengoku my friend what happened?" Kyojuro explains "she caught up with me at an incredible amount of speed. She used the same technique I use when running for the first time and it took a toll on her body. She just needs rest for the day." Uzui looks astounded "what an amazing accomplishment!" Kyojuro nods "certainly without a doubt!" 

Shinobu overhears the discussion "just let her rest for today".  He nods "you have my word Kocho". He settles down on the engwana with you in his lap cradling you momentarily. He feels thrilled about how much you have developed, he leans his head forward and kisses the crown of your head then looks at your body, you revive and flit your lashes open. You look up at him feeling sapped, he glimpses at your face "hey, my love are you alright?" You rapidly blink, "that's a new pet name" He chuckles low, You go to sit up he immediately ceases you "stop right there, just relax a bit for me please little flame, that's quite a feat you accomplished!" You took his advice "ok if I must but only because I love you". He embraces you tighter, hearing them three meaningful words makes his heart pound. "I love you too, my adorable little flame.

#demon slayer #kimitsu no yaiba #flame pillar #rengoku kyojuro #kny rengoku #kyojuro x you #flame hashira #rengoku fluff #kimetsu no yaiba #kny kyojuro #my works #my fic #demon slayer rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #my writing #kyojuro smut #rengoku kyōjurō #kyojuro x reader

[bi-bard]

They Say Looks Can Kill and I Might Try - Tyrell Wellick Imagine (Mr. Robot)

Title: They Say Looks Can Kill and I Might Try

Pairing: Tyrell Wellick X Reader

Based On: Vigilante Shit

Word Count: 1,497 words

Warning(s): arrest, mention of cheating

Summary: Tyrell Wellick liked to play the role of the confident businessman. (Y/n) hated watching him act like that. After Tyrell goes one step too far, (Y/n) decides that he deserves to be humbled.

Author's Note: Does this completely fuck up the plot of Mr. Robot? Yes. Do I care? Not even a little.

What's more fun than bullshitting your way through the middle of a Mr. Robot plotline?

MIDNIGHTS - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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If you had told me when I started at E-Corp that I would've fallen into a fight for power for a position at said company, I would never have believed you.

It wasn't my style.

But Tyrell Wellick always had a way of bringing out the worst in me.

We had joined the company around the same time. We seemed to constantly be taking the same steps at the same time. Position after position, step after step. One right after the other.

It started what I originally considered a friendly rivalry. Two people taking small jabs at each other as we both focused on climbing the ladder.

And then, Tyrell was appointed Senior Vice President of Technology.

Any "friendly" component went out the window after he stopped seeing us as equals. He was condescending, overbearing, cocky. All traits that should've made him hated across the company.

But he had that smile. He had the wife and the house. He had everything perfectly in place for all of his negatives to become nothing of importance.

To put it very simply: he drove me up a wall.

I tried to ignore it.

I hyper-focused on my work. I was set on proving to them that promoting Tyrell over me was a mistake. If I couldn't prove that he was nothing more than a real-life Patrick Bateman- a little boy wearing a shell to make him look like a man- then I could prove that I was simply better on my own without using a very cheap disguise.

And then, Tyrell pushed a little too hard.

He had called me into his office to discuss something.

In all honesty, whatever had been discussed has since been lost on me. The only moment that mattered to me now was the moment Tyrell grabbed my jaw and forced me to hold still.

The grip wasn't tight enough to cause serious injury, but it was enough to hurt. To make me hiss in pain and shock and embarrassment.

I refused to break eye contact with him.

He wanted to play tough. I could play that game too.

"You are trying to play checkers when everyone else is playing chess," his voice was quiet. His smile was condescending. My stomach churned. "Time to quit the game. You aren't going to win."

He let go of me but didn't move back.

There was a pause between us. Like a stare-down. A dare.

I forced a grin to him. "Have a good day, Mr. Wellick."

"You too," he replied in that sickeningly sweet voice that made me feel sick.

I walked out of his office as confidently as I could.

The gears had already started turning in my head. By lunch that day, I had everything planned out. I knew exactly how to get exactly what I wanted and needed.

Tyrell was right.

I was playing the wrong game.

I was going to show him how stupid it was to accidentally invite me to the board.

When I said Tyrell was cocky, I meant it. He loved discussing his genius with computers. His humble beginnings as a tech. He loved telling people all of it. Including me.

It was all foundation I needed.

The thought implanted in people's minds. Enough for them to believe.

My first turn in my game with Tyrell was far easier than I anticipated.

Someone had done a bit of the leg work for me. A bit. They had done most of it. It was a bigger bombshell than I had intended to drop, but who was I to mess with a good thing?

Just a few added instructions, a few changes that no one would notice unless they were truly set on who their fall guy was.

That simple.

At the end of the day, I wasn't changing their plan all that much. I was just changing who got blamed for pulling the trigger.

I smiled to myself.

I should've started this little game a long time ago. Would've had so much extra time on my hands.

My next step was a visit to Joanna Wellick.

I didn't know much about her other than the fact that her hunger for wealth and status rivaled Tyrell's. But she could be very useful if I played my cards right.

I knew Tyrell would be gone. At a meeting of some kind, according to the calendar. I knocked on their front door.

She knew of me.

It was the only reason that she let me in the door.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your evening," I said. I had mastered the kind, worried act a long time ago. "I... I just felt the need to tell you about something."

I stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island. I placed a large yellow envelope down on the counter.

She was a smart woman. She didn't need answers. She needed the evidence for the answers. Evidence so if she utilized those answers, she would get exactly what she wanted.

I slid it over to her. She just looked at it for a moment, not reaching for it. Like she knew what was in there.

"What's in there," she asked.

I reached out and touched her hand, putting on a gentle and kind gaze. "I just want to make sure that you're happy, Joanna. You deserve the best."

She looked down at my hand for a moment before meeting my eyes again. She was trying to see my true intentions. Either she couldn't, or she could and didn't care all that much.

"You can what you'd like with that," I continued. "Have a good rest of your evening."

"You too," she nodded to me once.

She let me leave without another word.

That seemed to be the key to everything I wanted to do. As long as I had the appropriate skills and the right level of confidence, I could walk through any door with little questioning.

I decided it was an art.

I had set the pieces for Tyrell's demise.

All I had to do now was watch the show play out.

I wouldn't know the true reward of my actions until a few nights later.

I had turned on the TV just before I started making dinner. There was a breaking news alert running. I stood for a moment and watched as Tyrell was dragged out of his home with his hands handcuffed behind his back.

I let out a chuckle.

My phone started ringing.

"Hello," I said, not pulling my eyes away from the news.

"The police just showed up and took Tyrell away-"

It was Joanna.

"I know, I saw the news," I stopped her. I kept on a sad, compassionate voice even though I was smirking at the screen. "I am so sorry, Joanna. This must be so difficult."

"Did you know," she asked. She had an alarming calm about her. I admired it.

"I had no idea. I was trying to help you. I never imagined Tyrell could do anything like this."

My phone went off before she could respond.

"I'm getting another call," I explained. "I have to go. Good luck, Joanna. I wish you the best."

"You too."

I switched to the other call a moment later.

"Turn on the news."

It was Mr. Colby.

"I've been watching, sir," I replied. "Very disappointing."

"It certainly is," he muttered. "I need you to come in. We're holding a bit of a last-minute meeting."

"I'll be there as soon as possible, sir."

I was guided into Tyrell's office when I got to E-Corp. There was a group of men sitting around Mr. Colby when I walked in.

"I hope I'm not too late."

"No, no, not at all," he assured me. "This was more a congratulations than anything."

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"We here at E-Corp are happy to welcome (Y/n) (Y/l/n) as the new Senior Vice President of Technology," he announced to the group. They clapped. I looked around at their face. Smirks. All smirks. True pride. "We'll hold a more formal meeting in the morning. Get the papers drawn up and make everything official. You just needed to be aware of your job now."

I smiled at him. "Don't worry, sir. I'll be sure to clean up whatever mess Mr. Wellick left behind."

"Good, good," he replied. "We'll leave you to get acquainted with your office. Please feel free to box up any of Tyrell's personal belongings. His wife will come to collect them in the morning."

I nodded.

"Make me proud."

"Certainly, sir."

Another few days would pass before there was another break in the Tyrell Wellick case.

Photos proving his unfaithfulness to his wife.

A distancing tactic.

That's what I had handed Joanna that night in her home.

I sat in my new office, reading the news on my new computer.

I leaned back in my new chair, finally content with a small grin sitting on my lips.

And I muttered one word to myself, "Checkmate."

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Author's Note: Not gonna lie, I'm really happy with how this one came out.

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#tyrell wellick imagine #tyrell wellick fanfiction #tyrell wellick x reader #imagine #x reader #fanfiction #mr robot x reader #mr robot fanfiction #mr robot imagine

[sakunataa]

A Yandere Simulator “PMV” + Yandere Simulator Character Trivia Video Review

Doing another one of these! I'm very excited to start writing them again. I anticipate doing this twice a week and categorizing everything into two groups: two shorter articles reviewed simultaneously, and one longer piece.

The bigger ones have more information, so I can focus on every last detail much more easily. I can also look at a lot more in a shorter amount of time. So that will be the method I use moving forward! What could be more enjoyable than reading so many posts at once?

Before I get into the two main articles (Feb5 and Feb6), I wanted to mention the February 3rd Bug-Fixing Build post! I've always liked reading about developers fixing bugs and making enhancements. And it makes me so happy looking through the list of all the things that have been promised so far and seeing them all in the final product. Cheers to Dev!

Of course, it's time for the actual review.

I begin.

Dev's PMV editing is far superior to the choppy work I did when I was 12 years old to create something similar. Not only is the artwork in this video very beautiful (kudos to all the artists, this is some splendid work!) but Dev's skillful blending of it all together is a work of beauty!

Although PMV editing has been around for a very long time online, I'm constantly amazed at how far we've come in terms of what we can do with these programs to create remarkable things. Well done, Dev!

And it's wonderful that he's acknowledging his Chinese fans. I knew they were a possibility, even if I haven't personally run into them. I'm so glad to see him making an effort to connect with his admirers who live in a country where viewing his work is practically impossible. Really demonstrates the greatest kindness Dev exhibits when speaking to them.

The next post is about character trivia, and it's one of my favorites. There are so many characters in the game that I wish I knew more about, even if it's just a breadcrumb of new information, and Dev just gave us the whole loaf. I'd love to see more of these for the other students because the video truly makes them seem so much more rounded and alive!

Dev clearly enjoys creating these characters, even the minor ones, as evidenced by the amount of effort and attention that goes into each one. (A shame Kokona's father is still in debt! Poor guy. Poor Kokona, too.)

I personally would enjoy seeing more content like this. Perhaps some trivia on the other rivals! The music is great, the ideas are quite original, and the visuals are really charming. I can't really think of anything to add on! I think it's straight to the point while also looking very pleasing to the eye.

Please make more of these if you can! I would love them very much.

It was so nice reading these and watching the videos themselves. It's clear a lot of love and care was put into it and I just love seeing it being put on display here. Two great videos, and it's all for us fans. I'm so grateful for them.

Good job on all your hard work, Dev!

#♡ sakuspeaks ♡ #yandere simulator #yanderesimulator #yansim #♡ yanderedev ♡

[yde50sullivan]

Black Sandals

Check the Sam Edelman website in addition to this site to make certain you’re getting the most effective deal. We offer complimentary DHL transport for all orders. I wish there was a separate "Chypre" matter as they are really pushing this mule/slide model. The nice quilty also comes with the next worth - $220 is definitely an investment piece for sandals. But they're nonetheless much more reasonably priced than Hermes Oran Sandals. These shoes look nice, however the dimension forty appears only a hair smaller than I would anticipate it to be. I got these along with a Chanel dad sandal in a dimension forty, and those appear just barely bigger. These are nonetheless comfy for me and I can still simply put on them, nonetheless. The insides of the shoes are actually remarkably easy and cozy, and the tread is sweet and grippy. The Archer has distinction stitching and a heel very similar to the original Hermes model. And, you probably can snag them for underneath $7 as of the time of writing! I am on the hunt for Chanel gladiator sandals in my size and everybody I’ve contacted is just like “no dear”. Daydreams aside, the essential colours for summer shoes are principally Tan and Black and these are also the preferred colours for Oran Sandals. The H design on these Dollymix sandals is very related to the original model, but at an under $30 worth point. They’re obtainable in both leopard print and black from Bella and Bloom Boutique. Michael Kors Shelly Slides are the simplest pair that captures the essence of Hermes Sandals - modern leather sliders. Desmos Cutout Leather Slides have the same glossy fashion but look distinct from Hermes Sandals. wikipedia hermes takara The intertwined straps make them unique and trendy. If you're on the lookout for a pair of sliders inspired by Hermes Oran Sandals yet not the exact replica of them, that is the pair for you. If only the actual thing will do, I have a couple of tips on the way to find Hermes Oran sandals on sale. These retail around $100, relying on choices. They seem solidly built and like they'll hold up nicely. The leather-based is thick and smooth, has a nice scent to it. I really have a question, are they a women’s sandals or men’s? I just asked my SA and she mentioned they only have it for men. I’ve solely seen the suede ones in black so was surprised to see them additionally available within the clean leather-based. This season a new fur sandal is being introduced in Sheepskin fur albeit this is extra of an indoor shoe or shoes which might be for lounging by the pool. Pony hair Orans may even be out there in zebra print together with studded / crystal variations. Hermes Oran Sandals are essentially the most versatile summer season shoe style - they are glossy, effortless and likewise traditional, luxurious! This is the fashion that you’ll discover in every style addict's closet. Hermes Oran Sandals are obtainable in thirteen colors and if I even have a vast fund to spend on sandals I will get all thirteen of them and slide in a unique color daily. I hope, it goes to be available in larger measurement on-line. Nice different to different H fashion sandals like Oran,Oasis and so on... This collection highlights designs in Denim Canvas, Crystal details, Perforated and light-weight Calfskin and in lively hues too! These sandals are such an important piece in every wardrobe. Steve Madden Greece Leather Sandals additionally are available Tan, Black and White shade. They look similar to the Hermes Sandals besides they don't have the distinction stitching. Another extraordinarily in style dupe is that this Jenny sandal from none other than Target. Target’s web site divides the colours into 2 listings, so examine both this hyperlink as properly as this one on your most well-liked colour choices. phoenet.tw hermes takara sandal The subsequent two dupes are each from Ancient Greek Sandals. The first one is their Apteros Cutout Leather Slides. They are handcrafted and will put on superbly over time. Takara, Ankara & Chypre are unisex however at all times obtainable every so often in men’s sizes on Hermes website. These footwear are meant for long distance walking with comfort & have a durable rubber sole. This is the pair of Hermes Sandal dupe I received - Dune London Loupe Slider Sandal. They are out there in Black, Tan, White and three other colors. I bought the Tan leather ones and I've worn them a couple of times now and they're extremely gentle and straightforward to walk in. Even though they aren't the most reasonably priced sandals but I assume they price every penny. 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#hermes takara sandal

[weretheones]

Doctor’s Orders

Plot/Request: When a sprained ankle takes you off run duty, the new girl goes in your place. Which would’ve been fine-- if she didn't have that brilliant wit, gorgeous smile, and effortless skill. But she did. And it was only a matter of time until Daryl noticed too. (Season 4) 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count:
 6.6k (this is ridiculously long SORRY lol)

Warnings: insecurities, mentions of injury, 

A/N: not another sick fic, but apparently the reader has a nasty habit of getting herself hurt/sick, huh? also, she's super jealous... cue evil laughter. 

—————————————————————————————

“Two weeks, at least.” 

You groaned. 

“I’m serious,” Dr. S scolded, “without proper time for rest and recovery, you’ll just make it worse.” 

“Fine.” 

Dr. S stood from the chair at the end of the bed, packing the rest of the bandages in his black duffle, “Hey, far as I’m concerned, you’re one lucky lady getting away with only a sprained ankle and a mild concussion.” 

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall back— a wave of dizziness overcame you, followed by a steadily increasing throb in your temples. 

“Yeah. I know. Still sucks,” you groaned, this time out of pain rather than annoyance. Moving from your position on your elbows, you slowly lowered yourself down to the bed, where your sore head fell into a soft pillow. 

Dr. S gave a quick flash of an empathetic smile, then shook a stern finger, “Rest. Get some sleep and keep it elevated.” 

“She can sleep? Thought ya said it was a concussion,” Daryl stepped forward from his spot against the wall. 

Dr. S shrugged, “She’s awake, holding a conversation. It’ll do more good than harm.” 

Content with your care, the young doctor slipped out of the room. The light shifted a little when he did, a glare of sun peaking past the moving sheets that covered your door, but soon enough the dark returned.

Well, as dark as it could get before sunset. 

“Guess it looked worse than it was,” you sighed. 

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed behind the thumb he’d been chewing on— after he washed it clean of your blood, of course. He let his hand fall to his side, and spoke a little louder, “still ain’t good.” 

“Yeah, well. I’d rather a sprained ankle than a bite,” you chuckled, but it tasted bitter leaving your mouth, “speaking of— thanks for getting me out of there.” 

Daryl gave a slow, almost calculated nod. His lips drew into a tight line as if to restrain him. Exhaustion was painted over him, dripping from his slumped shoulders. You couldn’t blame him-- between running from the dead, pulling you out from under two walkers, and racing you back to the prison, he had his fill for the day. Even you were spent, and he carried you here. 

You did have a concussion, though. 

“Get some rest,” Daryl grunted and crossed to your doorway.

Considering you could feel your heartbeat in your skull, he didn’t have to tell you twice. After the light disappeared once more, Daryl along with it, sleep quickly took over.

It was three days later when that throbbing feeling finally subsided into a low, subtle ache. Radiating from the back of your skull where the cold tile of the overrun pharmacy had smacked, now you could mostly ignore it. 

Daryl had been kind, doting on you. Brought you food and after a bit of stubborn prying, even retold his day to you while the sun began to set. 

It was sweet, the way he swallowed down his annoyance to entertain you. You assumed he wasn’t the type to come home after a long day, collapse into the couch, and spill his guts to his partner. But a part of you wanted him to be. An even bigger part of you wanted it to be you he told. 

In the middle of talking about his morning hunt, and the jumping squirrel that nearly missed his head, he reached up to rub at his scuff. A small, coy smile growing on his lips…

Perhaps your whole heart wanted that last bit. 

Daryl’s storytelling was much more intriguing than you originally anticipated. Although to be fair, you had expected a chorus of grunts that vaguely counted the events of his day, not the humour or description he used to explain the hours he spent outside of your cell.

“Oh, hey. I was lookin’ for ya.” 

Savannah flashed a friendly smile by the door of your cell and you flinched, unaware of how intensely you’d been focused on the archer and his voice… or his lips… 

“Hey,” Daryl grunted, readjusting himself to sit straighter. It was only then you realized how close he’d been leaning toward you in his chair. Perhaps he’d been intrigued by something too. 

“Hi, Savannah,” you smiled from your bed, still perched on your elbow. You had to stretch your neck to see her. 

“How ya feelin’, belle?” Savannah stepped inside, and from his angle, her legs looked even longer and leaner than usual. 

You scoffed at the southern nickname, thinking it would probably be much more fitting for the woman it left. Savannah looked like she’d been plucked out of a Southern Living magazine, with big pretty eyes and a smile in fierce competition with the sun. You could practically see her walking by a white picket fence into a big two-story house, even in the cold dull walls of a prison. 

“Ah, still not great.” 

“Sorry to hear it. We miss ya out there in the land’a the livin’— well, mostly livin’.”

You glanced over to catch Daryl rolling his eyes, “Yeah, I miss it too.” 

As if she caught your look, she directed her attention at the man. 

“At least ya have Daryl ‘ere to keep ya company,” she raised an eyebrow at him, a devilish smirk at her full, pink lips. 

“Yeah, he’s been great…”

Your smile turned a bit shy, partially unsure how to react at the mention of his kindness. What you wanted it to mean and what it did were likely two different things— very likely two very different things. 

The warmth spreading up your cheeks snapped you from your thoughts, and you tried to change the topic before the blush became strong enough to recognize under the flickering candlelight. 

“He mentioned you’ve taken my spot on the runs?” 

“Oh, yeah! This one’s finally lettin’ me show off my talents. I think he was jus' scared I’d show ‘im up,” she teased Daryl. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, but there was a sly hint of a smirk on his lips, “ya been on one run n’ already think yer all tha’.” 

“Oh, yer jus’ sore ‘cause I got tha’ big guy after ya missed.” 

They began to shoot back and forth, and you watched in amusement. Daryl glanced over at you every so often, but you still felt the amused smile from their lighthearted bickering begin to slip away as an unsettling, awkward feeling of intrusion began to creep up on you. 

It was your damn cell, so why the hell did you feel so out of place?

You shifted while they continued, moving to sit up straight instead. The concrete wall was cold against your back. You raised your knees to your chest— careful not to put any weight on your hurt ankle— and rested your chin on your forearms. 

“Anyway— I didn’t come ‘ere for this. Sasha n’ Tyreese wanted to go over the run plan for tomorrow. They’re waitin’ for us downstairs.” 

“Right,” Daryl huffed and stood up. His head turned to look down at you, cuddled in your bunk, as he lifted his crossbow across his body to rest on his back. 

For a moment, you pushed away that awkward feeling and smiled with a genuine look of thanks. Until you looked to Savannah to offer the same, and caught her travelling eyes. Trailing down his arms, flexing under the strain of the heavy weapon, her curiosity and clear admiration made your throat tighten. When she finally looked at you, your smile became rigid as you tried to swallow down a festering bitterness.

It wasn’t working, especially not when Savannah smiled back, with such casual beauty. 

You cleared your throat, “If I don’t see you before you go, good luck.”

“I’ll see ya ‘fore,” Daryl nodded, and you remembered that he’d been bringing you breakfast these last few mornings. 

He followed Savannah toward the doorway of your cell where she muttered a sweet goodbye. But Daryl lingered at the curtains, looking back at you with nothing but candlelight illuminating your face. Even with the low light, you still saw the hint of a smile on his face. 

“Night,” he muttered your name and then disappeared. 

Collapsing into the bed, you exhaled a heavy breath. You groaned and dragged your hands across your face, hoping that the lump in your throat would break now that you were alone. Perhaps you were being a bit dramatic, but that feeling had been so abrupt and shameful. It made you feel unsure, out of place. 

Insecure. 

Lifting your head off the pillow, you glared down at your wrapped ankle. 

“Week and a half to go…”

Another three days later, you woke up feeling even better than before your injuries. Perhaps the rest had done your healing brain good, and your tired body even more. It turned out that even with your own bed, a roof, and food, this world was still exhausting. Leaving it for a little, staying within the walls, had done you some unexpected good. 

Though, six days total was beginning to be too many, and you felt yourself catching cabin fever. No matter how rested your muscles felt— except your still sore ankle— you were getting antsy stuck within the prison’s tall walls. 

At least Hershel’s crutches had given you some type of independence. They were worn down from his constant use and too tall-- fitted for the older man and not someone of your posture. Sometimes you felt like you might topple over, but the sun felt so good on your skin to stop. 

You carefully maneuvered down the small patch of stairs leading out of cellblock C, into the prison’s courtyard, where the laughter of children and the smell of barbecue beckoned you. The bright colours of the yard were a welcome contrast to the cellblock’s grey rooms. Green leaves of growing gardens and rainbow chalk drawings brought a warmth to your heart that even the glaring sun couldn’t beat. 

Then there was a distinct noise, a chuckle that stood out from the young, high-pitched giggles. It drew your attention to the series of benches by the grill, and suddenly your search was no longer needed. 

Daryl and Savannah— from who the giggle had erupted— were by the tables. She beamed up at him from where she sat, while he stood a few feet away with a small smirk on his lips. He was holding two bowls, likely on his way to find you, but had been distracted. 

She nodded along at something, strands of her shiny hair falling forward to frame her face so effortlessly. 

You couldn’t blame him, really. She was easy to get distracted by— you’d begun to learn that the hard way, constantly roped into hurtful self-comparisons. 

When her gaze shifted over to you, you barely noticed. But then Daryl’s head snapped over too, and the crutches began clicking under your weight again. 

“Hey, look at ya!” Daryl grinned. 

It was such a rare, sweet sight, you couldn’t help but beam back, despite the insecure thoughts that had just plagued your mind. 

He must’ve distracted you because you wavered a little in your next step, and his grin fell a bit. Daryl moved to wrap an arm around your waist and help you— but you waved him off. Not for a lack of appreciation, evident in your gentle smile, but rather, you really wanted to do something for yourself.

He smiled again, a slight chuckle under his breath when you moved forward, more confident and steady in your remaining steps to reach the bench. 

“It’s nice to see you under the sun,” Savannah chuckled too, “You were getting a bit pale in there.” 

“It’s nice to see the sun without a pounding headache,” you smiled, resting your crutches against the table when you sat down. 

“So yer head’s feelin’ better?” Daryl asked as he went to sit across from you-- next to her-- passing over the second bowl in his hand.

“Doc says I’m fully recovered,” you nodded. 

“Good,” Daryl said, “n’ yer ankle?” 

“Soon,” you picked up the fork, “he said it might be another week or so,” 

“Well, I’m mighty glad yer feelin’ better, belle,” Savannah stood up, “I oughta see Sash bout the run today. I’ll see ya later, D?” 

“Mhm.”

Your slightly wide eyes flickered between Savannah’s friendly wave and Daryl’s nonchalant nod as something caught in your throat. But the growing lump wasn’t the food you’d just swallowed. 

Since when was he ‘D’? 

You cleared your throat as casually as you could and looked down at your bowl of rice and meat. 

“So, you two got friendly fast.” 

In your peripheral vision, you caught him watching you for a second before he shifted a little in his seat and huffed. 

A surprisingly suspicious look met your eyes when you looked up. The same one he used when he was trying to dig through your vague words and find a worthwhile meaning. He tried to read you, but you held your mask high and firm with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Just, uh, you two seem a lot closer than I remembered,” when your smile-- meant to portray indifference-- didn’t loosen his brow from its furrow, you blurted further, “it’s nice seeing you branch out, getting to know the new people.” 

“She ain’t really new.” 

“I mean, someone other than Rick, Carol, or me… That’s pretty new for you.” 

“Right,” he rolled his eyes. 

Daryl’s reluctance was strong, so you let the topic go-- even if it was still gnawing on your heart. The echoes of distant conversation and the sizzling grill filled the space between you, and you looked back into your bowl of breakfast. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you reminded yourself. A new friend was a good thing, especially for someone like Daryl, who usually kept people at arms length. 

Perhaps their sudden comfort in coincidence with your injured state had made you feel a bit insecure about your standing within the prison’s community. It didn’t help that your chores had become redundant and elementary, with the crutches holding you back from any real physical labour. Which, around a place like this, was in high demand. 

Only, that didn’t explain why you felt so insecure around her and Daryl. Or why you focused on insignificant things about the woman, like if she was wearing mascara or if her lashes truly were that dark and thick. If her hair was that pretty colour all year long, or if the summer sun had bleached those highlights.

You stole a peek at Daryl as a thought you hated flashed across your mind. A quick inhale of fresh morning air helped block the idea that maybe he noticed those ‘insignificant’ things too. You made yourself focus on other, less envious things, instead. 

It was only a matter of time before it passed, you assured yourself, and popped another bite in your mouth. 

———

This was silly, reminded you of those bitter days in high school when every girl that passed seemed like competition. If adulthood hadn’t starved you of those feelings, of that immature urge to battle for the attention of a boy, the end of the world really should have.  

Yet here you were, scolding yourself for the glare you sent her across the courtyard. 

Hating her would’ve been so much easier, but it was hard to hate someone who’d only ever been kind to you. Annoyingly kind and ridiculously pretty. Truth was, you couldn’t even resent her. It was how she made you feel that hurt so bad— but acknowledging that would mean analyzing why she made you so insecure, and why it only began two and a half weeks ago when she started getting close to Daryl.

So that little bubble of pride from pulling him away from her? You tried to ignore it, the flash of disappointment on her face when you told him you needed to show him something. Seriously, you tried. Yet, like every other time, you couldn’t. There was something so alluring about the man, that no matter what, everything you felt regarding him, around him, was heightened. Happiness. Worry. 

Jealousy….

“Tower two’s getting crowded again. They’re still spreading out enough, but if they start clumping like last month, it’ll be an issue,” you sighed, shifting on your hip now that you were finally off the crutches, “we gotta figure out a long term solution.” 

A thin line of walkers stood along the exterior fence, Daryl following the point of your finger toward it. 

“Right. I’ll call a meetin’ later, see if we can get ahead’a it.”

“I was thinking, since we have all that extra wood from the shacks, maybe we can reinforce the fences with some thick pillars along where they tend to clump up,” you gestured to the piles of wood resting along the prison’s bullet-hole ridden walls, “just for now, until we can figure something else out.” 

He nodded, “Yeah. Good idea.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. 

Daryl’s eyes flitted between your reserved smirk and the field. He was still holding his bowl, his fingers fiddling along the edges of the plastic. 

“So, tha’s yer plan for today?” 

“I guess,” you shrugged. Sure, stacking pillars wasn’t exactly up to par with your previous routine of runs, but at least you weren’t on those ridiculous crutches anymore. 

Daryl gave a confident nod, “I’ll help ya,” before popping a chunk of grilled venison into his mouth. 

“I thought you were going to check the snares with Rick?” 

He chewed, the low drawl of his voice a little muffled by the motion, “He don’t need me there,” he swallowed and brushed the back of his hand along the chest of his vest, “n’, uh, I jus’ haven’t seen ya in a while,” he narrowly held your gaze before something in the fields caught his eye again, “thought I could help, unless yer pissed at me or somethin’?” 

It’d been just over two weeks that your ankle had kept you here, at the prison, and Daryl Dixon missed you. Thank God he wasn’t looking at you right then, because you really couldn’t help the slip of a smile from his words. 

“No, I’ve just been busy,” you hid your excitement behind the mask of a casual shrug.

His nod was less confident now, the slight bite on his lip apprehensive, “Ya’d tell me if I did anythin’, right?” 

“Yea, but, you didn’t. Really.” 

Which was true. It wasn’t him you blamed— not even Savannah. It was your insecurity. 

“Alright,” he shifted in place, his fingers passing the bowl back and forth between his hands. That crossbow strap seemed to truly ground the man, considering how much his hands were fidgeting now. 

This time, your smile was conscious, “Well, now that you bring it up, how have you been?”

Daryl shrugged, “Y’know. Usual.” 

“Doing alright out there without me to watch your back?” You winked, but that confidence was false. Frankly, you had been consumed with worries that they’d been better off without you— that maybe you weren’t as good out there as you thought. 

Unaware of your turmoil, he scoffed, “Yeah. Done good las’ few times we wen’ out.” 

“Good,” your voice raised a little, disappointment flashing through you. 

“Ya like bein’ ‘ere?” 

“It’s just different,” you shrugged. 

Daryl nodded slowly, chewing on his lip, “Maybe ya should stay a while. Give yerself some time off.” 

You huffed, “It's already been over two weeks.”

“Jus’ think ‘bout it,” he gave an innocent shrug, “gotta go see Glenn ‘bout the big spot, tha’ overrun place.” 

“Tell him I said hi,” you muttered, eyes staring far off into the distance. The grey, relentless thoughts of Daryl’s suggestion, seeming indifference to your absence on runs, and your festering insecurity made for a cruel, cynical storm. 

“I’ll see ya later for the pillars, then?” 

“Yeah.”

Ironically, that storm lit a fire in you. For the past while, it’d been pushing you deeper and deeper into the shadows of the prison, but with lacking distraction, anger was left to fester instead. Anxiety and jealously spreading with every breath you took, you marched toward the courtyard, where Dr. S had been earlier. When you found him again, he was distracted by something in the thick textbook beside his plate of lunch. 

“Hey,” you demanded his attention, “can you check out my ankle today? It barely hurts anymore so I think I can start going on runs again.” 

Dr. S looked between your stern face and your ankle, his eyes wide and questioning. Between the occasional bouts of annoyance, you’d been mostly patient with him, understanding of his orders. Now you seemed so sure, so stubbornly ‘healed’.

He cleared his throat and nodded, “Sure, let me finish and we’ll check you out.” 

———

“Hey!” you beamed two days later, walking up to the car being packed for the imminent run— purpose in every step you took. 

Daryl pulled himself from behind the passenger door, slamming shut the glovebox he’d been stocking. 

“Hey yerself,” he closed the door and took a few steps to reach you.

“Got room for one more?” 

What little smile he did have fell then.

“Thought ya were gonna stay ‘ere a bit longer,” he said, his tone reserved.

“Dr. S cleared me. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” you shrugged, your bright smile beginning to slip away too. 

“Still, I, uh, I dunno if tha’s a good idea,” he shook his head. 

You glanced over the others preparing for the run. Sasha and Tyreese continued to pack the bags across the yard, seemingly unaware of your presence, but Savannah peaked her head from around the van’s trunk.

“Why not?” you challenged. 

“It ain’t safe.” 

“What is nowadays?” 

Daryl obviously didn’t appreciate the way you brushed him off so carelessly, and his voice became stronger, “When we’re out there, soon or later we run. With tha’ ankle—” 

“I was cleared,” you reiterated over him.

“—I ain’t lettin’ ya get in this car.” Daryl finished, his eyes narrow and stern. 

He always joked about how stubborn you were, and he was right because, without much care for his warning look, you pushed back, “But when Glenn hurt his wrist he was fine to go, right?”

“A sprained wrist n’ ankle ain’t the same, ‘specially out there,” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head like you knew better. You did. But, insecurity was a powerful emotion, you’d come to learn that the last few weeks. 

“It isn’t sprained anymore!” you laughed humourlessly, your frustration building. 

“Daryl’s right,” Savannah called out, “I know ya mean well, but ya’ll only hold us back. We gotta focus on scavengin’, not keepin’ ya safe.” 

“I am capable of keeping myself safe, thank you,” you snapped back as she approached from behind the car. 

“I’m sure ya are, but tha’ ankle ain’t gonna do ya— or us— any favours out there.”

Yet another ankle comment made you want to yell in frustration, but instead, you bit your tongue— 

She sighed, her tone empathetic, “Ya know we’re right.” 

— hard.

Those unfair, cruel words began filtering your thoughts once more, and you had to hold back the ideas slipping from thoughts to spoken words. The look in her eyes screamed of sympathy and pity— something about it just felt so sneering, like she’d been scolding her younger sister for trying on her clothes. You didn’t know how to bite your tongue any longer without taking the damn thing off. 

Luckily, Daryl’s finalized the debate before you opened your bitter mouth. 

“Listen, I jus’ can’t have ya out there, n’ I ain’t arguin’ ‘bout this no more. We gotta go n’ yer stayin’.”

His drawl was rough and vehement. The argument was circular, and the addition of Savannah— of all people— funnelled your frustration into an anger that the thoughtful, kind part of you disavowed. The discouraging knowledge that there was no winning this drained whatever fight was brewing within you. 

“Right,” you scoffed, dejected, “wouldn’t want to distract you.”

———

It’d been a couple of hours since they returned, with crates of canned food and big grins— all except Daryl, that is, who barely cracked a smirk among all the gratitude. Sasha, on the other hand, was more than excited to bring back essentials, in such quantity too, and suggested a bonfire. 

The fire radiated an ambient glow across the many faces of the prison, flickering on their smiles as the crackles of burning wood mixed into laughter. Even you cracked a smile, hearing Glenn and Rick retell their meeting— something about a tank, a cowboy, and stealing a car. It had almost distracted you from the supposedly riveting conversation Savannah and Daryl were engaged in, her bright and beautiful smile on full display as she laughed. Even in the dim light, you could see his brow begin to furrow as he swiped at his mouth and chin. Eventually, she swatted his hand away and replaced it with her own, still smirking as she brushed something away.

And, whatever small smile you did have was lost then, a deep pit where your stomach once was. 

To make matters worse, Zach leaned in close to Beth, and whispered just loud enough for you to hear as well, “Just when I thought Dixon was celibate…” 

From the sly smirk on his lips, the hint of play in his eyes that jumped between the young blonde and them, you knew it was lighthearted. A joke. He was just trying to make Beth laugh, like the way Savannah had been, but the idea of Daryl and her…

Beth’s big eyes snapped to your falling expression as she stumbled out a weak response to appease her boyfriend— you didn’t stick around to see if it worked. 

You needed air. Fresh, cold, distracting air. The type that bit at your skin, fluttered through your hair, and most importantly, cooled the burning fire of jealously in your chest. Two steps at a time, you chased that feeling up the guard tower, vaguely aware that the door hadn’t slammed behind you like usual, instead, holding open for a moment too long, before softly echoing shut. The slight grunt that followed and the similar pacing up the long staircase was familiar. 

You went up faster, really needing that air to calm you down. 

Too fast apparently, since your ankle had given out and left you almost tumbling down the stairs. However, Daryl had caught you, grabbing hold of the side of your waist and the arm that lost grip of the railing. 

He pulled you back up, gently so as not to put pressure on your weaker ankle. That care-- that was exactly the problem right now. The way he so casually made your heart jump, made you feel warm and safe— it was aggravating. Especially when you thought about how he might make her feel. 

You brushed him off, “I’m fine.” 

You paced up the remaining few stairs, slower this time, and entered the guard tower. You crossed the floor, finding a spot to inhale that cold wind over the railing. It helped, momentarily. 

Until you realized he followed. 

“So yer pissed at me now?” 

You paused, turning to him with a heavy exhale, “Yeah, actually. I am.” 

“‘Cause I didn’t let ya on the run?” 

“Because you’re treating me like I can’t do shit,” you snapped, “I’m fine.” 

“Tha’s why ya fell jus’ now?” 

“I fell because I was trying to get away from you! It had nothing to do with my ankle.” 

“Fine. Then I won’t bother ya.” 

“Fine,” you retorted, turning away to look over the field once more. 

Yet you could feel him lingering at the exit, his presence so solid and heavy behind you, like he was weighing you down from the sweet release of the wind’s breeze. You spun to say something, but the way the shadow of the moonlight cast on his features made your mouth shut. He looked torn— so visibly unsure about what to do next. Hesitantly, he stepped forward again, only a few feet away when a wave of assurance seemed to hit him. 

“Y’know wha’— ya wanna be pissed? Fine. I’d rather ya be safe n’ hate me than dead!” he growled, pacing back toward you. 

You stared at him with wide eyes, barely opening your mouth to speak before he cut you off.

“Don’t matter how good ya are,” he scoffed, “there’s always somethin’. Shit jus’ happens. S’ how tha’ did.” He pointed at your ankle. 

“So what, I live inside a cage for the rest of my life?” you remarked, dissatisfied. 

“I sure as hell ain’t letting ya risk yerself jus’ ‘cause ya feel like ya got somethin’ to prove.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed, “What the hell do I have to—“

“Ya tell me,” he snapped, cutting you off. 

Daryl had never called you out so blatantly before, and it shocked you that the man saw past your defences, deep through to what you tried to hide. 

When your gapping-mouth-silence only confirmed his accusations, he scoffed, “Right. Screw yer ankle— ya ain’t goin’ anywhere till yer head’s clear.” Daryl pressed his finger into his temple, reiterating his low growl. 

“I can’t be here anymore,” your lip curled from the bitter admission, “I can do more— I want to.” 

His brow drew together, tight, as something boiled deep inside his chest. 

Then he burst, “Ya almost died out there!”

Daryl paced the length of the tower for three strides, then stilled. The waves of tension rolling off him were hefty. You wanted to step forward to him, fight through the thick air and soothe his stiff shoulders, but the way he panted, almost out of breath from the admission, paralyzed you. You released a shaky breath. In the time it took you to do so, he spun on his heel and took the steps you couldn’t. 

“Y’know wha’ its like when yer out there wit’ me?” he growled lowly, narrowed eyes trained on the subtleties of your expression, “I can’t take my damn eye off ya.” 

Your brow furrowed, and the words you said were filled with more genuine concern than spite, “If you can’t focus you shouldn’t be going on runs, Daryl.” 

“Yer the reason I can’t focus.”

“So what,” you blinked, adjusting to the man only a foot away from you, “you can’t be my friend and my run buddy?” 

He stepped back with a scoff when you continued, an increasingly incredulous tone in your voice, “Cause you’re mighty good friends with Savannah, but you don’t seem to have any problem trusting her.”

Daryl stilled, visibly confused, “Sav? She ain’t got nothin’ to do with this.” 

“I mean, seriously, what’s the goddamn problem with me? You’ve been taking her on runs, what, three weeks yet there’s nothing but trust there.” 

“Cause I don’t need to worry ‘bout her like tha’.” 

Your eyes widened, “Oh. Thanks for that vote of confidence.” 

“I didn’t mean tha’,” Daryl growled in frustration, shaking his head profusely. 

“Right,” you ridiculed, “then what the hell did you mean, Daryl? Why can’t you just trust me?” 

“I do trust ya! I know yer tough— I’ve seen ya take on walkers twice yer damn size, woman.”

“Then what the hell is your problem with me? And— and why is she so different?” 

He shook his head again as if still adjusting himself to the new course of argument, “The hell ya so fixated on Sav for?” 

“Oh, come on,” you sighed, bitter and exhausted, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you.” 

A beat passed before Daryl seemed to register your words. If you thought he looked confused before— he looked absolutely lost now. The longer he spent staring at you, mouth opening only to shut again, the heavier your gut felt. 

His eyes narrowed, “It ain’t like tha’,” when he finally spoke, his voice shifted, “why do ya care, anyway?” 

“Because it hurts— it hurts!” you burst. 

Shock had many ways of expression. Right now, you couldn’t stop moving— from your frantic shifting eyes, bouncing between Daryl’s face, his chest, the corner of the guard tower, to your heaving chest— you were anything but stiff. Daryl, on the other hand, was rigid and firm in his stance. He stilled completely, and for the moment that your eyes flashed over his, it almost looked like he wasn’t even seeing at all. Like a fog of complete shock had filtered over his bright blue eyes. 

Your sight fell to the ground, heavy and solemn, as you waited. 

For what, you weren’t completely sure. Daryl to respond, a reason to slip past him, hell, maybe for him to leave. 

“It… hurts?” he repeated in a questioning whisper. 

At that point, your pounding heart had begun to slow again. You wiped the tears that had leaked with the back of your hand with a little sniffle. Might as well own up to it.

“Yeah,” the confession was quiet, muttered like a secret although it was anything but now.

“Why?” he asked. 

You scoffed, because really, wasn’t it obvious? But he waited for a response, only for you to bite down on your lip, unable to form the words.

Daryl filled in the blank, himself— the only one that made sense with the way you’d been acting. With romantic feelings, especially those held for him, he was admittedly oblivious, but he’d never been dumb. 

“Ya think somethin’s goin’ on ‘tween me n’ ‘er?” 

“I know I’m being impatient, okay? I know I’m pushing myself— I just, I can’t help but feel like I’ve lost my place here, and— and being replaced really fucking hurts,” you bit your lip, “it doesn’t help that she’s— she’s so, you know, and… and you’re you, so… why not?” you shrugged, exasperated and unable to find any more words. 

Daryl stared at you.

“Yer serious?” 

You nodded. 

“Yer jealous?” 

“Yes,” you reiterated. 

You blinked, staring him right in the eye, and a new tear rolled your cheek. He broke your gaze, glancing down to your cheek where the salty bead dropped, and his eyes softened. 

He shook his head, and mumbled, “She ain’t ya.” 

“What?” you asked. 

“Ya get why I can’t help but make sure yer safe when we’re out there? Why yer a distraction n’ the rest of ‘em ain’t?” 

“No.” 

“Think,” he asked of you with your name.

So you did.

You thought about how you could never stop worrying about him whenever you were out there. How he was always your priority. Your distraction. And, after that, it finally clicked. 

You weren’t dumb, either. 

“Are you serious?” It was your turn to ask. 

Daryl nodded, slightly biting his lip, “Yeah. Thought it might’a been obvious, even ‘fore now.” 

“It wasn’t,” you said. 

“Rick n’ Carol thought different,” he shrugged, suddenly withdrawing from that burst of confidence. 

His retreat made you want to curl within yourself too, and you could only mumble, “It wasn’t to me, then.” 

For a moment, perhaps to let everything sink in, the only thing to break the silence between you was the blow of the wind, smacking against the guard tower’s windows. Your loose hair caught in the breeze and you reached up to tuck it behind your ear, sparing a quick and cautious glance up at Daryl, who had already been looking down at you. 

“So,” you subconsciously licked your bottom lip, “what now?” 

Daryl gave a meek shrug and shifted his weight, “Ain’t got no reason to be jealous no more— never did, really.” 

Surprisingly, you spared a light chuckle amongst the thick tension, “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Another pause of silence passed. He watched you, bit at his lip. You were nervous, could feel tingling to your fingertips, but still held his gaze through your lashes. Just as you were about to open your mouth, his chest swelled again, and he mumbled your name into the distance of two, maybe three feet, between you. 

“Yeah?” 

“M’— Imma try somethin’ ‘ere, ya let me know if ya don’t wan’ this,” 

He stepped closer and your heart quickened. 

“N’ I’ll stop.” 

You looked up at him through your lashes, and nodded ever so slightly, just enough for your bangs to fall from behind your ears.

“Okay,” you whispered, like a prayer. 

He brushed your hair back, as you had just moments ago, and let his fingers linger on your chin as his breathing shallowed. It was uneven, you felt, because unbeknownst to you, your hand had a mind of its own, pressing between your heaving chests. Marking the first close of the shrinking gap between your bodies. 

“Alright?” he asked, his voice hitching at the end, and you found a brief comfort in his equal— if not prevailing— nerves. 

“Yes,” you reaffirmed. 

He leaned in. It took a moment, a brush of his nose against yours, to realize that this was happening— this was real. Before you could react, break into a grin or even blush, he met your lips and kissed you. 

Tender. Measured. A little too gentle. As if he thought you might push him off, he refused to push any further. Only meeting you at the touch of your cheek and the undemanding brush against your lips. Ready to jump back and profusely apologize at any hint of resistance. He was trying to figure it out— figure /you out, while reserved to gentle pushes and pulls of lips, quiet smacks of skin, until the third painstakingly slow drag when you finally disconnected. 

You gazed up at him with low lids, the fog of yearning and desire swarming your sight. His eyes barely opened, but the certainty in the look he met was so obvious. No regret. No rejection. Nothing he told himself he’d find the countless times he’d craved this very act. 

It made his confidence soar. 

So he crashed down onto you. That sweetness and gentle pull were gone as you both gave into those long-repressed desires. This was demanding, but he never needed to coax you over the edge, giving into want and desire, you were already there, holding his hand and ready to jump. Hell, you’d been waiting for him. The way he held you so tight against his chest said it all, told you everything you’d ever wished to hear from the man. 

Only frantic pants— needy breaths of air— came from each of you, between the delicious smacks of lips and skin as you both grabbed, pulled, tugged, closer and closer. 

Daryl’s hand moved between resting on your cheek and becoming tangled in your hair. Your fingers dug into his broad frame, clinging onto him while he raised you an inch with a pull of his forearm against your lower back. It was needly, clingy, and you felt like a fool. 

Jealous? When he touched you like this— kissed you like this? Daryl’s actions had always been louder than his words, and this moment was no exception.

But even from a man of such little and quiet words, they still echoed in your head. 

“Ain’t got no reason to be jealous no more— never did, really.”

—————————————————————————————

A/N: i was inspired by the meredith/addison s2 type of jealously: “you have a wife who's not easy to hate, who's annoyingly kind and painfully smart”... instead of “I hate her, he's mine, grrr”, hope y’all enjoyed it! maybe there's hope for a frenemies to lovers arc for the reader and savannah lol

two things! 

first, thank you guys SO much for 300+ notes on heartburn and breathe through it!! wow, what a warm welcome <3 I really wasn’t sure what to expect coming back, if the fandom/tumblr was abandoned or what, but I'm so glad to see y’all here. so thank you thank you thank you x 1000

second, I am still experimenting with my writing style, so apologies for any inconsistencies (since I usually write my fics out of order lol). 

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this fic. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon fanfic #Daryl Dixon fanfiction #Daryl Dixon imagine #Daryl Dixon oneshot #daryl x you #daryl / reader #Daryl Dixon / reader #daryl dixon x you #twd daryl #twd #twd fan fiction #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon fic #the walking dead fanfiction #norman reedus #Daryl Dixon angst #twd oneshot #madi writes

[writerloz]

As I Say

pairings: haitani ran, fem reader

warnings: 18+, smut, oral sex, light bondage, praise kink, baton insert

repost from my ao3

You check yourself one last time in the full length mirror at Bonten headquarters. Mini skirt, platform boots, and red lips; Ran's favourite look on you.

Tonight, you decided you were the one in charge. That didn't happen often, matter of fact it literally never happened. Ran is dominant in all aspects of life, so naturally that continued in the bedroom.

You had a plan though, and you were going to see it through. Handcuffs in one hand, you stroll out of Bonten's bathroom and into Ran's office with a sultry smirk on your face.

Ran was sat on the couch, legs spread, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up as you entered, and a small smile played on his lips.

"Ya look beautiful."

You smile back a 'thank you.'

You're walking over to Ran with a purpose, and he knows it.

Reaching him, you gently take the whiskey from his hand, placing it on the table. You push him back onto the couch and throw your leg over, straddling him, taking both of his wrists with you.

"Hmm, what's this baby?"

Just his voice is enough to make you weak in the knees, but you have to see this through.

You lean up slightly, manoeuvring his arms backwards to cuff him to the back of the couch.

Once Ran realises you're about to restrict him, he tenses up. You lock eyes for what feels like forever, a million thoughts rushing through Ran's head.

'Why is she tying me up?'

'I won't be able to defend myself'

'What if it's a set up?'

You understood that look, and while it pained you slightly, you knew Ran's hesitance was most likely based on previous experiences. After a minute of silent questioning, Ran reluctantly loosened up, allowing you to lock the cuffs. He gave you one last long look, letting you know that he trusted you.

All negative thoughts out the window, you lean in to kiss Ran gently on the lips. Those gentle kisses turning more and more feral each time he kisses you back.

Pulling back for air, you look into his lilac eyes. He seems nervous yet surprised, and he's hiding it well. After all, you never get a chance to be in control like this, so he doesn't quite know how to react.

You run your hand along Ran's suit shirt, deciding it's time for that to come off. Once unbuttoned, you run your manicured nails over his skin, raising goosebumps. Your index finger grazes his nipple, and for the first time tonight Ran loses a tiny bit of composure.

He shoots you a serious look, almost like he hates what you're doing to him but he doesn't want you to stop. And you won't stop, because you're having way too much fun.

Leaning closer, you start kissing your way up Ran's jaw, making your way to his neck. Biting gently, Ran stiffens, moving his head to the side. You grab his jaw with your hand and pull his head back to it's original position. You lick the spot you just bit, and then suck hard.

"Y/N! No marks."

You chuckle slightly, knowing how much Ran hates you leaving little love bites, even though your body is littered in his.

"I thought I was in charge?" you whisper back.

And that you were. You suck the same spot over and over again, making sure to leave your mark on him.

Ran suddenly leans forward, making you jump.

"Wait 'til I get out these cuffs."

You try and hold back your smile, honestly you couldn't wait until those cuffs came off because you knew exactly what Ran would do to you.

You slowly lean back, looking straight at Ran. Leaning in to kiss him, you half expect him not to kiss you back in response to the marks you left on him, but you soon feel his tongue slip into your mouth, and him moaning into the kiss.

Leaning back further, you move from your straddled position and kiss your way down Ran's exposed body until you're in between his legs. You tap his hips, silently asking him to lift up so you can take off his suit pants.

Once his pants are down enough, you lean in and kiss his clothed cock, earning a sharp inhale. You look up at Ran, and see that his eyes are laser focused on your lips.

'Good', you think to yourself. You hook your fingers into his boxers and pull them down, Ran's hard dick springing out. You take him into your hand. His tip is bright red, dick pulsating every now and then. Slowly, you start to stroke him, loving the way Ran closes his eyes and throws his head back.

You move your hand some more, and then you wrap your lips around the tip of Ran's cock, and he lets out a long deep moan. You suck the tip hard, then take all of him in your mouth, moving down slowly until your throat constricts and you gag on his cock.

Ran looks down at you, mouth open in awe at how well you take him.

You bob your head up and down, nose tickled by his pubic hair, and each time Ran is looking at you with a look of pure lust on his face. Coming up for air, you detach your mouth with a 'pop', and a string of saliva still attached.

"Hah- fuck. Keep that up and I'm gonna cum, baby."

Ran coming is exactly what you wanted, but ending this so early was not an option.

You can feel your panties, cold and wet from your juices. You need some sort of release and you need it now.

Making your way back up, you get back into your straddling position, now feeling Ran's unclothed cock pressing against your clothed pussy. The feeling of him against you but not inside you is almost too much. You start to grind on Ran's cock, moaning into his neck.

"Untie me."

"No."

"Y/N, untie me."

Part of you really wanted to, but you're not done yet. And you don't appreciate his demanding tone when you're the one in charge.

You lean back into Ran's neck, still grinding down on him, and roughly suck another love bite onto him.

Ran jerks forward out of frustration, turning his head and biting down onto the side of your neck. Hard.

You yelp in response, not expecting Ran to be so rough with you considering you had him tied up. You quickly remembered to never underestimate your lover.

Staring into Ran's eyes, a mixture of shock and pleasure running through you. Ran is staring back at you, serious and needy.

"Baby, please."

You slide off of Ran, and lean your elbows onto the glass table behind you. Your skirt rides up, and you let it. Ran is watching your every move, but you can tell he's unsure of what you're going to do next. Keeping your eyes locked, you slowly spread your legs, Ran's eyes averting to your visibly soaked pussy. Your fingers creep over to your panties, pulling them to the side. Then, making sure Ran is focused on you, you insert your middle finger.

Your head lulls back, your pussy finally feeling some sort of friction. You can feel Ran's eyes on you; you know he's watching, so you put on a show.

You pull your middle finger out, watching it glisten in the dimly lit room, then you push it back in, along with your ring finger. You start slowly, but you can feel the pressure build up inside you, and you can't deny yourself release any longer. Your movements gain speed. Looking back up, you see Ran with his mouth open, eyes laser focused on your pussy. His dick is throbbing at this point, both of you needing to come soon.

Your fingers slow, and you pull them out, placing them into your open mouth and sucking.

"Oh my fucking god." Ran says, breath hitching, becoming visibly more and more impatient.

Reaching over, your hand grazes over Ran's baton.

Shock is the best way to describe Ran's reaction. His eyes are on you. If you do what he thinks you're going to do with his baton, he might just explode.

Grabbing the weapon, you run it down your body, grazing over your pussy lips slightly.

"Keep your eyes on me." you tell Ran, his thoughts confirmed as you slowly insert his baton into you.

It's thick and cold, not nearly as good as Ran's cock, but you're so needy just about anything will do at this point. The friction inside you feels so good, baton pumping inside you at an increased pace. Your hand moves quickly, and you feel your favourite type of relief approaching. A few more pumps of Ran's baton and you're squirting all over the glass table, strings of your sticky juices reaching Ran.

"Baby, hah-- get up here and untie me right now."

Your thoughts are blurred, the release you just felt was amazing, but you've never needed Ran's cock inside of you more than you do at this moment.

You quickly get up, legs still shaking and slightly dazed as you fumble over Ran's constraints.

"Come on baby, please."

He's rushing you, and you're trying but your hands are shaking with anticipation. Finally, you hear the click of the cuffs and Ran lunges forward, grabbing you by your thighs and leading you to the bigger couch. He throws you down harshly, your body still coming to terms with your very recent orgasm. Before you know it, your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his dick is plunged deep inside you.

You moan loudly. You've fucked Ran plenty of times but this time was on another level.

He pulls out slowly, then pushes back inside. His hand around your neck, squeezing every so often, making sure you're looking at him.

"Look at me. Look at what you've done." he pants out in between thrusts. "I can't stop, baby. I can't fucking stop."

Your head goes fuzzy, the lack of oxygen getting to your brain is intense, but the feeling of your orgasm building is stronger.

"You gonna squirt again?"

You can't respond. He knows that, he just likes teasing you.

"My little pet gonna squirt for me? Come on, get me all messy."

You can't take it anymore, Ran's teasing tone and the way he's pounding into you is enough to make you do as he says. You squirt one more time, covering both your bodies in your juices.

Ran's pace continues, you try and push him away, the aftermath becoming too much for you.

"Ran, please. I can't-- anymore."

"You can take it." Ran says as he leans down, covering you in sloppy kisses. He holds you by your jaw, making you keep your mouth open while he spits into it.

He's turning you on so much, and after all the pleasure you've received, you realise that Ran hasn't come yet. He's not done with you.

Suddenly, Ran flips you over onto your front, placing a pillow underneath you to raise your ass slightly.

"I'm gonna fuck you some more, and you're gonna take it."

You're so aroused at this point, Ran could suggest literally anything and you'd be up for it. He grabs your hips, pulling you back into him. You feel the tip of his cock against your dripping pussy, slowly entering you.

You gasp. You're fucked out but for some reason you don't want to stop either. Ran starts roughly ploughing into you, showing your pussy no mercy. He runs his hands over your ass and spreads your cheeks. You feel a wet drip going straight down your ass, and soon after Ran's thumb circling your back entrance.

You tense up, now it's you that has no idea what Ran is going to do next.

His thumb dips into your ass and you cry out in pleasure, both your holes being pumped by Ran. Soon after, Ran's thumb leaves your ass and in replacement you feel a cold, metal stick.

"Ran!"

"Shush, baby. Just relax."

You do as your told. A few seconds later, Ran's baton enters your ass. It feels much bigger than it did in your pussy, and you're senses are so overwhelmed that you don't know how to react.

Ran sets the pace of the baton in his hand, and when he's happy, he fucks into your pussy with relentless speed.

"That's my good girl. I knew you could take it, baby."

You cry out one last time, fingers gripping the couch underneath you as you come on Ran's dick. The feeling of Ran's hot seed being pumped into you only increases your pleasure.

All you can hear is both yours and Ran's heavy breathing, coming down from that whole experience. Ran slowly removes the baton from your ass, in love with the way your hole restricts around nothing. Just as he's about to pull out, you reach behind you, holding him in place.

He eyes you up, slightly confused at what you're implying.

"We're not done yet."

Ran's eyes light up, a sadistic smirk crossing his face as he slowly begins pumping back into you.

#ran haitani #tokyo revengers #smut #reader #anime #haitani brothers #bonten

[gemma-collins-ily]

Could you a platonic crows x reader based off the song “Reflections” by The Neighborhood. It’s been a long time since all the crows have seen each other and they finally reunite and realize how much they missed each other?

Life Was Good

a/n - I did write and edit this in one night so I think the writing gets better as it goes on but you know xoxo 💕💓

Warnings: nothing?

Tagged: @mrs-brekker15 @inthegistoftime @sarcasticnightmareblaze

Where have you been? Do you know when you're coming back?

It had been so long. The weight of it was crushing you, dragging you down. Because they never seemed to reach out, never seemed to visit, though you supposed you hadn't either.

You had missed them, the ache in your heart only twisting in to a sickening agony, rippling over you and making your head pound, fingers coming up to your temples to methodically rub small circles.

You only wanted them back.

'Cause since you've been gone I've got along but I've been sad

It was easy enough to block out your feelings, push them to the side, just as the Crows were famous for. But, you weren't really a Crow anymore, split off from the group years ago.

It had been such a tiring crawl through life, wishes upon wishes spewing from your mouth, falling from your lips to grace the city with your gentle whisper, your admittances made under your breath.

You had missed them, and they you. You desired to see them more than anything, the letters from Inej written of her travels becoming far less frequent, until there were hardly any at all: the invitations to far off parties you knew you would never attend dwindling from Jesper's end of the line: and Kaz had never reached out at all.

It shouldn't have been shocking, but he was not heartless, nor cruel, only ruthless and made to be so by the callous world surrounding him.

The Dirtyhands himself never wanted to show any emotion, terrified of the downfall it could bring: to his gang, himself, and to you. All of you.

Letters were easily intercepted. And any possibility of his weakness being discovered could mean war for the Bastard of the Barrel. And believe it or not, he did not want any of you brought back to the life he still lived, still endured.

You had all graduated to bigger and better things, while he stayed solemn and lonely in Kerch, secretly hoping you would all return.

Kaz had forced himself to acknowledge his crew were meant for a higher standard of living, deserving of the chance to make a name for themselves and that they should be able to enjoy doing it.

Even if there lives did not include him in them.

I tried to put it out for you to get Could've, should've but you never did Wish you wanted it a little bit More but it's a chore for you to give

You detested yourself, how you allowed yourself to drift from your friends, your family, in your bubble of solitude, carrying great amounts of self pity and doubt every time you wrote to them.

Hundreds upon thousands of letters were stuffed into drawers, almost spilling over the brink every time they were opened even an inch.

But they were never sent. All because you were too cowardly, wondering if your correspondence would be welcomed in their hearts: if Inej would smile as she read with the wind whipping through her hair on the docks; if Jesper would grin toothily as he spilled his handful of poker chips along the table accidentally, too invested in the parchment to pay attention to anything else; and what you would do if they returned your notations.

You had pondered so many times, so often, if Kaz would anticipate them eagerly, snatch them from the poor, younger Dreg chosen to deliver the mail for that week, thinking of writing back, ending up dropping his feathered quill right before he dipped it into the ink.

Yet the letters stayed, some aged and outdated ones crumpled underneath the weight of the remaining, never leaving the chest of drawers you had originally placed them in so painstakingly carefully.

Where have you been? Do you know if you're coming back?

And then you got a big break - the chance to respond once and for all, to meet again, rejoicing together with toasts and speeches.

Maybe you were romanticising Ketterdam, knowing wine was either as cheap as dirt or the clothes off someone's back and all their possessions combined, no in-between negotiable.

Inej had sent off a notice to you and (presumably) the rest of the former gang members, asking to meet, if only for old times sake.

You found yourself admiring the loops and curves of her writing, the dips in the paper where her hand had rested as she scrawled animatedly, the blotches of dark iridescent ink appearing to be bluey-gray spatters over the page, unevenly spread, however still so beautiful and graceful.

You found your fingers running over the rivets in the sides of the parchment, not caring about the risk of a papercut, which you could argue hurt more than a wound sometimes, and your heart hammered in your chest, threatening to burst as your eyes scanned over and over the lines, engraving the paragraphed structure into your memory, smiling as your hand flew to your mouth and tears welled in your eyes.

You hurriedly smeared one over the creamy off-white card as it fell, unexplainably feeling as though a singular piece of paper, quivering in your tremoring hands, was the most prescious artifact in all the world, practically made to sit in a gleaming glass case at a state of the art museum with top security measures in place.

That scrap of material meant the world, and you hoped Inej would realise what it signified to you as you hastily scratched out a response desperately, scrunching up papers and throwing them behind you, deciding absolute care and precision should be taken on this, the first piece of communication in a long while.

You intended to reply at the earliest possible time of convenience, staying up throughout the night just to walk to the post box down the street, reveling in the fresh air soothing your blotched and previously teary face along with the newfound purpose you were given.

All it took was one reply.

We were too close to the stars I never knew somebody like you, somebody Falling just as hard I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody Maybe it's a blessing in disguise (I sold my soul for you) I see my reflection in your eyes

It was so much harder when you stood, staring up at the building that was your home, had always been your home.

You were biting your lip as you placed one foot in front of the other, almost clinging to the door as your eyes were drawn to the stairs automatically, recalling the times of glee - racing Jesper to the top of the stairs and back, plonking yourselves down once you had done, panting as Kaz shook his head and chided you for being so childish.

He had never actually handed out any punishments for it, and you had been sure he had once had one corner of his lip quirked fondly as Inej's eyes glinted good-naturedly, yelling for a rematch with her involved a few seconds into Kaz's exclamation, never failing to interrupt as he would sigh and lean against the head of his cane, while you jostled each other to attempt to reach the landing first, you and Inej complaining like those half your age would when Jesper would purposefully turn around two steps before the agreed turning point.

But when you stepped inside his office, it already silent as they had heard the tell tale creaking of the top step, tension building to a torturous tumult, your pain and sadness, all the pent up distress left you, fleeing to the dark corners of the room and even darker corners of your mind.

I know you're sick Hoping you fix whatever's broken Ignorant bliss And a few sips might be the potion

It was a far from relaxing atmosphere, no grins shared until you burst out laughing a little awkwardly, but everyone following, the furrowing of your eyebrows smoothing out enough but not at all completely.

The type of laughter that results in being keeled over, lungs panging with dull aching as you struggled to intake air, gasping but grinning like mad people.

When asked about what you discovered so amusing by Kaz, who was as stony faced and stoic as ever, you only giggled once more and said Jesper was on time for the first time in his life, if not early.

This resulted in another shared fit of chuckles as Jesper tried to weakly insult you back, although having no clever, witty remark to do so.

You may have been fractured, broken people, lost in their pasts and lost at the idea of their futures, uncertain and only dreaming of an ideal life, but that was what had brought you together in the first place.

Perhaps it had pulled you apart, but for history to repeat itself, you must have first at least received the positive, the continuous cycle so influential to your attitude and so tiring.

Despite this pessimistic thought niggling, clouding your head with thoughts that the moment could never last forever, you knew it would last a while.

And that was enough.

With your family, anything could become enough.

Where have you been? Do you know if you're coming back?

The social interaction your heart had yearned for had finally returned, making the world seem inverted, it so strange to be acting as though you were the same people from years ago.

But it also seemed so colourful, as though a filter had been placed over a lens, manipulating light to refract just as desired, blinding you but serenading you as you spoke with them, the light turning on them to illuminate the Crow's facial expressions, the little taps of Kaz's foot you had been deprived of magnified, the soft and airy whistling of Jesper whenever he was impressed or an awkward gap was occurring was also present.

We were too close to the stars I never knew somebody like you, somebody Falling just as hard I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody Maybe it's a blessing in disguise (I sold my soul for you) I see my reflection in your eyes (tell me you see it too)

You were not the same person you once were all that time ago, differences between your past self and your current, catastrophic changes in personality for you all, but the miniscule similarities hidden amongst your new personas and the friends you knew were there.

And they were just as important to search for as the differences, scavenging for any scraps of similarity.

But, while you stayed at the Slat for the next few days, you came to terms with the process of comparison, suddenly adoring how Jesper had matured yet was still the same school boy type he always strived to be.

So close, so close Yet so far away (so far) I don't know (I don't) How to be solo (no) So don't go, oh, no, just stay

It seemed he had accomplished his goal, just as the rest of you had. But you hadn't done it together, and even if it was best for you at that exact moment, the tearful goodbyes necessary to move forward in your life, it had brought such pain to part from one another.

You and I were bright, shooting through the sky daily (yeah) Lighting up the night, wasn't always right, baby (mhm) Yeah, every time that we realised it's crazy And you save me

In your younger years, fresh out of school, you had wanted so deeply to find someone to love, just as your neighbors had told you of their happy marriage that lasted years, them being on their sixtieth anniversary and not looking as though they were falling out of love anytime soon.

But you had discovered you were just fine on your own romantically, not needing anyone to be with you like that, just needing your family by your side.

We were too close to the stars I never knew somebody like you, somebody Falling just as hard I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody Maybe it's a blessing in disguise (I sold my soul for you) I see my reflection in your eyes (I sold my soul for you, I know you see it too)

And now they would be, supporting you and caring for you as you would them. Your dreams of staying together forever had fallen through, being replaced with realistic goals, even if that excitement of seeing your friends everyday, just simply being in there presence remained in your head.

You may have buried your thoughts away, hoping not to be tempted by them, knowing overall you were living just as Kaz thought you should, financially stable without having to cheat your way to the top, no longer having the mindset that chaos was the only way to get anything in life.

However, chaos was extremely important, and you would prove just that as you wanted to, releasing your inner child every now and then healthy and natural.

Yeah, I brought same ones too I know you're tired, I know you're tired Just say it, I agree with you Yeah, sick of all the poison in me What did I do wrong for me, babe? Uh, I see myself in you, I see myself in you, baby I see myself in you, alright, I sold my soul for you I see myself in you, maybe you should too

You would inevitably have to return to your house, leave the Crows and your previous life once again, but for now you would revel in your happiness. Together.

Because the Crows were some of the most unusual people you had ever met. But you stuck together, and would continue to.

Life was not perfect, although with them, even sending a letter or two a fortnight meant something else.

It meant that life was good.

"Crows don't just remember the faces of people who wronged them. They also remember those who were kind. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for."

And they had always looked out for you.

#six of crows x you #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fic #grishaverse #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x you #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfiction #grishaverse fic #kaz brekker x platonic!reader #Jesper Fahey X platonic!reader #songfic

[thirsting-over-demons]

The Lingerie Game

{An Obey Me Fic} -- F!MC

Synopsis: A game is happening at the House of Lamentation— anyone who sees MC not fully clothed will get the opportunity to spend 12 hours time alone with her wearing lingerie of their choice.

Chapter One: Pre-Game Show

>>CH2

warnings: mildly n.s.f.t, sexual themes, strip teasing

Mammon walks in on MC changing and chaos ensues when the rest of the house finds out.

Word Count: 2767

Without warning, the bedroom door swings open, revealing Mammon barging into the room, apparently too eager to knock. “Yo, MC!” Also too eager to wait for a reply, he begins spewing his new money-making idea to his already decided partner, oblivious to anything but his own ideas. All he notices is that MC is there, facing away from him.

MC, meanwhile, was changing out of her school uniform when Mammon had burst through the door. Uncaring about that fact, and already pantless, she turns to face him, making a noncommittal comment as she does so. In the same second, she continues to undress, removing her shirt and tossing it aside before returning her view to Mammon. Upon this, she is met with what appears to be a body frozen in time, plagued by silence. She also notices that, although paralyzed with a face expressing unspoken shock, it seems as though he is studying her, as if to confirm his understanding of the situation. With each dart of his eyes, the redder his face becomes.

Tired of the silence, MC attempts to gain Mammon’s attention by calling his name. However, no words seem to break the barrier of silence that has surrounded him. Receiving no response, she escalates her attempts by walking toward him.

Snapping out of his daze, Mammon finally stutters out, “What are ya doin’?!”

“I'm changing,” MC responds curtly. Then, seeing how her conversation partner is no longer a statue, well, no longer mute, at least, she goes back to putting on her house clothes.

“Why ya doin' it in front of me?!” Although reacting in protest, Mammon makes no efforts to look away. Rather, his focus is solely upon the very thing he's protesting. Every action she takes is absorbed by him. He’s determined to commit this image to memory.

“You barged in without knocking. Leave if you’re so distressed about it.” Exasperation almost takes her. But before it can, mischief assumes her thoughts instead. “Though, it seems to me that you’re enjoying the show.” She goes on to put on her shirt very pointedly, making sure to maintain eye contact the entire time.

Mammon bumbles out a half-excuse, claiming to be taken off-guard, yet remains in the room. A fact, that does not get by MC, who's expression clearly relays this awareness. An expression undeniably saying, but you’re still here.

The atmosphere finally catches up to Mammon and he makes a hasty escape, leaving the door wide open as he flees.

Could’ve at least closed the door. Instead of closing it herself, however, she decides to just finish dressing, she was practically done anyway. As she pulls up her second pantleg, she hears another voice calling out to her.

“It’s always a treat to see Mammon’s teased expression!” The pure joy in Asmo’s voice could not be mistaken. “What did you do this time?” Although he asked this, by the end of his sentence he had more than an inkling of what just happened as he observes his surroundings. “No way. You didn’t…”

“Relax, Asmo. He just walked in on me changing.” she knows she needs to interject before his thoughts are left to wander.

“Liar! There’s obviously more to it!”

Knowing she won’t be let off the hook so easily, MC briefly and reluctantly explains the event in as little detail possible, hoping to satisfy Asmodeus’ pressing curiosity.

However, all this does is excites him more and he bombards her with increasingly personal questions. This is what she was dreading. Out of all the brothers to find out about this and it had to be the Avatar of Lust.

“Stop being nosy.” A swift flick of the forehead causes all of Asmo's questions to come to a halt.

“So mean.”

MC walks past Asmo and out into the hall. He follows at her heels, not yet done with the conversation.

“That was such a waste on Mammon,” Asmo pouts, wrapping his arms around MC's waist. Continuing, he rests his head on her shoulder, and tempts one last question, “When do I get my show?”

Finding it difficult to walk now, she stops, turns her head slightly to see him, and says “When you walk in on me changing.” With that, she removes his hands, which had begun to gently grasp her shirt, lifting it ever so slightly.

It was when she did this that he realized he was even holding onto the fabric like that. He was so concentrated on hearing her answer that he didn’t notice his hands clenching in anticipation. But he’s not concerned about that now. No, he’s preoccupied with turning her answer into a deal construed only in his mind.

  “I accept!” His response is swift and filled with loud glee. And just like that, he disappears down the hallway, leaving MC to question just what exactly he’s accepting. She quickly decides it’s not worth thinking too much about, opting to continue heading to the library as she originally intended instead. Reading as she waits for dinner is a much better use of time than trying to analyze whatever is going on in Asmo’s head.

Dinner is ready at last, and everyone is gathered at the table, all set to eagerly enjoy their food. However, before that is able to happen, an absence is called into question. Mammon is missing from the table. Yet, this causes only a brief setback as they all begin to eat anyway. The lack of Mammon’s presence receives barely a fleeting acknowledgement, much to the annoyance of Lucifer, who originally brought up the matter. Noticing this, Asmo takes it upon himself to clear up the mystery.

“MC gave him a strip tease earlier. He’s probably still recovering.” There was definitely connotation in that last word, and knowing Asmo it was sexual. When he says this, his face shows nothing but delight. About what, exactly, is up for debate.

In contrast to the brothers’ nonreaction to Mammon’s absence, this announcement stopped them dead in their tracks. Asmo had everyone’s attention and was relishing in it. They all were staring at him, waiting for him to go on, while occasionally stealing glances at MC. Was her face saying this was true? On the reverse, knowing this was going to happen, she continues eating. Her face reads nothing but unfazed. That is, until Asmo adds that he’ll be next.

“I don’t remember that part,” MC retorts promptly, breaking from her next bite to stare slightly questioning at Asmo. Such a comment provoked further uproar in the brothers, who now took Asmo's previous statement as confirmed.

 “But you remember giving Mammon a strip tease?!” Levi blurts out. Then, realizing what he just said, reflexively covers his mouth. In the same moment, all focus was instantly on MC as the brothers await her answer.

“It wasn’t really a strip tease. More so a…” she stops midsentence, searching for the appropriate word. “What’s the opposite of strip?” She quickly dismisses her own question, however, and continues, “Anyway, I wasn’t taking off my clothes. I was putting them on.” Well, when the actual teasing started, at least.

Another query is added to the pile when Satan calls into question what Asmo meant by being next. To which Asmo brings the spotlight back to him and relays the one-sided deal he made with MC. That being, that when he catches her changing, he’ll get his own strip show. He goes on to express his excitement in being able to see a new side of her, giddy at the prospect.

That’s what he meant. Realizing just what Asmo was accepting earlier, MC let’s out a small sigh. Any eating has all been stopped–well, except Beel, who still manages to take bites despite the ruckus. Otherwise, questions and protests fill the air. The only two not participating is the star herself, and Lucifer, who looks like he is getting more aggravated by the second. MC, meanwhile, is on the opposite side of the spectrum, simply exhausted by the commotion and is just wanting to enjoy the meal she was looking forward to.

“You guys are making this into a bigger deal than it is. He just saw me wearing underwear. Nothing more. It wasn’t even cute.” A tinge of defeat hung in her last sentence.

“Tell that to Mammon," Belphie teased.

“Enough! This talk is hardly appropriate for dinner!” Lucifer finally went off. He’s ending this conversation once and for all.

At least, that was his intention. The topic immediately returns when MC's claim is challenged by Asmo's so-called deal. This provokes a deadly glare from Lucifer. Unfortunately, it was Satan who reignited the conversation, who promptly ignored the eyes attempting to bore into him. He does make a point of letting Lucifer know this, though, giving him a quick sideways stare before returning his gaze to MC.

She really thought Lucifer could save her from this. She’s actually going to have to explain such a nonincident. And then there’s Asmo making it far worse than she anticipated. Fine, so be it. Having resigned herself, she gathers her energy to put this matter to rest. But before she’s able to say even a word, Lucifer's voice pierces her ears.

“Don’t encourage them,” he speaks flatly, but the authority he holds is ever-so clear. If he can’t control his brothers, he’ll just have to restrain the source.

 The pre-empted scold chills MC. The discomfort brings a blessing, though. She has an excuse to not indulge her interrogators further. Yet, she doesn’t care for being targeted by Lucifer like that. It’s hardly her fault. For the most part, at least. Still, she obliges him, leaving everyone else to quietly ruminate on what the truth could be.

Tension accompanies this silence. It’s only a matter of time before one of the brothers breaks. They were all dissatisfied with how the conversation ended, aside from Asmo who was smiling to himself the entire time. Nevertheless, there was no resolution. Is there really a deal between Asmo and MC? The question plagues everyone’s mind.

While the brothers were stricken with anticipation, MC felt an impending doom. They could only be held off for so long. Especially when it concerned her, even more so with a subject like that. She could tell they are almost up to their limit—glances are being stolen at her more and more frequently. In fact, Beel somehow still has food on his plate—probably distracted by the discourse earlier—and he isn’t prepping for another bite. Further, the expression on his face reads rather pensive. His speculation has caught up to him. He’s about to say something for sure.

  “MC,” Lucifer blocks any attempts before they could begin. “Go bring Mammon his plate.” He looks at her sharply, with a face clearly saying that he’s not asking. It’s time to remove the source now, it seems.

She’s reluctant to go despite this. Having to deal with Mammon is almost as bad as being badgered by the others. But the way Lucifer is looking at her gives the impression that she doesn’t want to be here for what happens next. Giving in, she takes the plate meant for Mammon, much to the disappointment of Beel who had been eyeing his food from the start, and heads to his room. With this, she leaves the brothers behind in the wake of Lucifer’s wrath.

 He must have been thinking of a punishment the entire time, she notes as she walks away from loud objections and pleading yells. She doesn’t pay attention for too long, however, as she has to prepare to manage whatever Mammon is about to throw her way. He’s really fussing over nothing. It’s just underwear. Common everyday underwear.

  “It wasn’t even cute,” she complains again to herself, burying her head against a nearby wall. “Damnit.”

Realizing she too was now fussing over it, although for a different reason, she quickly shakes her head once to clear her thoughts. Whatever, all she has to do is get him to open the door. Then she can give him his food and tomorrow this will all be a thing of the past.

She finally reaches his room and gives two knocks on the door, calling out his name as she does so. A few seconds go by without an answer, and she calls out again, this time stating she has his dinner. Again, she is met with silence.

  “Mammon, I know you’re in there. The light is on.” As soon as she says this, the light that was seeping from under the door instantly vanishes. “That’s not how that works!” She tries the handle only to find the door is locked. Refusing to give up, she resolves to ordering Mammon to come get his food.

It’s unsuccessful, however, as the door remains shut. Another tactic is needed. A short exhale escapes her mouth as she leans against the wall by the door.

“You know, Asmo has it in his head that if he sees me changing that I’ll do a strip tease for him.”

The door violently bursts open at this, and Mammon suddenly appears to exclaim an indignant ‘what’ only to cower backwards when he meets MC's eyes. He breaks his gaze as his face becomes visibly redder but doesn’t close the door again. MC takes this chance to offer him his plate of food, which he greedily accepts, still refusing to make eye contact.

 “Well?” He attempts to probe for a further explanation.

“What?”

  “You- how did Asmo get that idea?!" Mammon instinctively looks at MC and immediately regrets it as he feels his face instantly burn even hotter. He can’t look at her now. The memory is too fresh. The time he spent memorizing her features is now his downfall.

MC inevitably decides to appease him, going on to explain the events following his escape, and how Asmo decided to take her words literally.

“Shoulda known better. It is Asmo we’re talkin’ about here,” Mammon responds in a nonchalant manner, trying a bit too hard to seem unbothered.

MC is tempted to tease him about this, but shrugs the urge away, not wanting to make Mammon go running again. She’s finding him rather endearing like this; she can’t ruin it so early.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what Asmo is expecting, though. I mean, really,” she opts to give her thoughts on the supposed deal instead. “He won’t be seeing anything special. It's not like I just wear lingerie all the time.” She goes silent after that last sentence. Wait, no. That’s it.

“Mammon, how would you like to see me wearing lingerie?” She speaks with excitement, an idea forming in her head.

As a response, Mammon attempts to slam the door shut, he can barely take the conversation as it is. The door gets stopped before he’s able to completely close it, though, as MC pushes back with her hand. She’s not going to allow that to happen.

“No, seriously!” She hastily begins to explain what’s going through her head. “It’ll be a game!”

This got Mammon's attention, just like she thought it would, and he let’s go of the door he’s been trying to close. He’s all ears now.

She continues, “Okay, so, I’m building off of the deal Asmo made up, right? But, instead of a strip tease, if someone sees me not fully dressed, then they get to choose some lingerie for me to wear for them.” As she’s talking, it’s obvious that her thoughts are going straight from her brain to her mouth, no time is being spent on developing them.

Mammon counters her proposal with the fact that by those rules, he's already won. She quickly rebuttals by saying that all's that left is the reward then. This brought Mammon back around, his interest clearly showing, even if he's pretending it’s not.

“I get to choose, huh?” He asks this mostly to himself. Endless amounts of questions start forming in his mind. Eventually, he expresses one. “W-what happens after I choose the-,” he stops midsentence, unable to say the word. Instead, he rephrases, “Is there more to this reward?”

MC reflects on this for a little bit, leaving Mammon to get more anxious with each second his question remains in limbo. “There should be, huh? I’ll work on the details tonight.” She pauses for a moment before concluding, “Just be in the library after school. This is gonna be fun!”

With that, MC leaves down the hallway, on her way to create a game that will certainly stir up trouble in the House of Lamentation.

#obey me fic #obey me fanfic #om! fanfic #obey me otome #the lingerie game #my posts

[clonewarsarchives]

BRINGING BACK THE BOUNTY! (#114, JANUARY 2010)

Supervising Director Dave Filoni how Season 2 of Star Wars: The Clone Wars is bigger, bolder and better! Words: Jonathan Wilkins

Star Wars Insider: The first season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars was a massive hit that defied everybody's expectations. Did that help you with Season Two, or did that add pressure?

Dave Filoni: I think that the main thing for me was I knew that we would have an audience, and I just wanted to find a way with my team to meet that audience’s expectations. I think that’s the hard part.

I know Star Wars is going to grow a new audience in addition to the fans that it already has, and that makes it difficult because we’re serving these two different groups. I think the entire audience likes all the action, adventure, drama, and characters that Star Wars has presented fans with for over 30 years. It wasn’t going to be a problem; it was just meeting the expectations and maintaining the quality. I think that as a crew we had our own expectations having grown up with Star Wars, and we wanted to push things. And really, because we work so far ahead, by the time we saw the first audience reactions we were well on the way with Season Two. It was validating because people were talking about things that they might like us to do better or that they were confused by and we were already improving that stuff, so we knew we were on the right track going into Season Two.

Was there a lot in Season Two that you couldn’t have done in Season One?

Technically and story-wise, absolutely. Mainly because we have more action figures—so to speak—at this point [laughs]!

You know, when they released the original set of action figures, you had Luke, Han, Leia, a stormtrooper, Darth Vader, C-3P0, R2-D2 and maybe Chewbacca. Actually, it was kind of exotic as a kid if you even had Chewbacca! You could only do certain types of stories. When the TIE fighter pilot came out I almost fell over! It’s been the same working on this show. For a while all we had were clones and battle droids for the most part. While getting a whole cast of individual characters like Cad Bane or Robonino into one episode was a really big challenge, it opened up tons of possibilities for us story-wise, tons of possibilities for us in the environments, and it’s really improved a lot of things we can do.

Why did you choose the theme of bounty hunters for Season Two?

It was the main element that we really didn’t have in Season One. Season One was very focused on good guy/bad guy, Republic/Separatists, battle droids vs. clones, with the Jedi in the mix. I think that the bounty hunters are such a stand-out, that when you say “bounty hunter” everybody goes “Boba Fett,” “IG-88,” “Bossk,” “4-LOM,” “Zuckuss,” “Dengar.” We all knew them by name and they didn’t do anything in the movies, so it was really exciting to include the bounty hunters and say, “We’re going to do a whole episode with these guys and they’re going to do a whole lot more than you ever saw them do before!” This is one way of illustrating the big difference in Season Two. And they’re nasty customers, too! There are some pretty intense storylines in Season Two.

Was it fun to make the IG-88 robots more agile than the audience anticipated when they showed up in Season One’s “Downfall of a Droid”?

Oh yeah, that was brilliant! The animators just went to town. They’re droids, so they should be able to do things people couldn’t do. Their ambidextrous nature as they were fighting and their front-to-back orientation worked really well. It’s always fun to expand that, but then you always have to be careful with the expectations, too. Bossk has been in a lot of the press coming out. I know there’s a whole fever built around Bossk, which is incredible for a character that basically just wiggles his toes! You start to get a little worried about those expectations. It’s the same thing as when we developed Plo Koon and Kit Fisto. The first thing is always the voice and what that’s going to sound like. That’s a huge expectation right there, but you just have to hope you make as many people happy as possible. It’s a challenge, but it sure is a fun challenge.

How many variations on the voice of Plo Koon, for example, did you go through before you arrived at what you wanted?

With Plo Koon, we basically wrote him three different ways before we settled on a final version of how he would speak. For a while our natural inclination was that he was going to speak an alien language. The problem there was that we weren’t going to subtitle a major character for a whole series, and he had to have a lot of intelligent stuff to say, just like Obi-Wan Kenobi in A New Hope. So, it became clear that he was going to have to speak Basic, or English. For a while, he was very abrupt and a bit more samurai in his delivery. And then eventually I just realized that I wanted him to be more like Gandalf the Grey, and that’s where the Ian McKellen inspiration came in. I think I had two different people try out as Plo Koon before we got James Arnold Taylor, and it was just all experimenting. I had some of my different stable of actors try stuff because I was searching for a voice. I was probably pretty extreme with Plo Koon, especially because he’s obviously an important character to me, but that being said I still wanted to get something that I thought would universally be liked by fans, not just my own preconceived notion.

With Kit Fisto I went to George a lot more for his advice. He has an input on all the Jedi voices and I always ask him about it to make sure I’m on the right track. We had some ideas for the character and he said to go in a different direction with Kit Fisto. With Plo Koon he kind of left me alone on that one [laughs]. He gave me some suggestions and then I think he was pretty happy with whatever I came up with. I don’t think he wanted to listen to me complain if I didn’t like it!

So I guess that George knows that Plo Koon is your favorite?

Well, insofar as I like to bring up things about the character. I guess it’s at the point that if I really didn’t like something George would maybe listen to me. It depends on his sense of humor that day. He might just keep going on something I didn’t like just to mess with me! He’s got a good sense of humor, so ifs hard to predict.

Obi-Wan's character is developed quite a bit more this season. Why did you think this is necessary?

It was one thing that a lot of people asked questions about in the first season. We have these characters and we know what happens to them. When it comes to Obi-Wan in the prequels, he does what’s required of him to meet up with where we are in A New Hope, but it wasn’t his story, so we didn’t really get a “behind-the-scenes” look at Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now we have a whole series to explore his character!

In Season One we didn’t really deal that much with Obi-Wan. He had a larger role in the Ryloth story-arc, but he was never a major focal point other than playing off of Anakin’s banter. In Season Two he’s a great character, and we had an opportunity to really talk with George about some opportunities for him. George had some ideas that he wanted to explore, and I’m really pleased with how it’s turned out. I think it’s exciting to fans that they’re going to get some more insight into the background of Obi-Wan Kenobi and his thought processes. We’re always used to seeing him in relation to Luke or Anakin. But Obi-Wan Kenobi is an interesting character to explore.

Are there any other characters that you'd like to explore in the show?

Padmé’s always an interesting one. We’ve done more with her in Season Two. It’s really tricky. When you get into the Padmé/Anakin dynamic there’s a lot defined in the films, and she has a role in Revenge of the Sith that I have to make sure that we meet up with. When I deal with Anakin in relation to Ahsoka, I have a lot more room to play, because obviously nobody knows what happens to Ahsoka. So how he reacts to her and how that relationship builds, gives us a lot more room to grow. I would still like to see more stuff involving Padmé to get a better sense of who this person is on a more intimate level.

You have all these episodes you do for every season and you can fill them up before you blink and go, “Oh my gosh, we didn’t do anything with that character or that group. Well, next season....” Then you create a whole bunch of new things that season and you go, “Well, I want to keep going with that.” Cat Taber [the voice of Padmé] is always on me to expand the role, so it’ll never get left out because she constantly reminds me that we need more Padmé!

So we can expect an episode centering on Padme for Season Three, perhaps?

Oh yeah, absolutely! Nothing wrong with that.

What's the biggest misperception people have about making animation?

I just don’t think people realize how long it takes and the amount of detail that goes into everything we do. And why should they? It’s hard for people who don’t draw to understand how much work goes into every single second that you’re watching. In our show, for example, everything that you see on screen had to be designed, built, textured, and rigged. There’s a tremendous amount of work, be it a plate on the table or some new type of walker that’s running around or a whole planet. On the planet you need the landscape; are there trees, or is it barren? Grass? Bushes? And it all needs designing. It’s always been that way. That’s not a problem that’s exclusive to The Clone Wars.

It’s just amazing to me, when you watch something like Coraline, to think that they built all of those beautiful sets, and put all those details into the sets. It gives you a real appreciation for the artistry going into everything. The end result is that you shouldn’t realize it, which is why the audience doesn’t need to be aware of it. All they need to be aware of is the story and the characters, ultimately. But I think it’s a misperception that somehow it just happens, or that it’s easy to redo stuff because it’s animated.

Do you have to ever redo things or go back and change things?

Oh yeah! I work with George Lucas. Of course! He is constantly improving stuff. For me, it’s actually a lucky situation that I work with someone that produces the show that wants it to be constantly better. No matter how small the detail, when he and I watch the final color version, he’ll say, “I love this episode, it’s great, but let’s go take a look at it and see if we can improve anything. For most people it would just be, “This episode is great, we can put it on the air, let’s go.” But for George, it’s always a matter of, even incrementally, getting something better up there. As an artist you learn a lot by watching him maneuver and tweak tiny things, and all these little things make a big difference in the end.

Can you talk a little bit about what comes up later this season?

We’re going to have some massive battles in Season Two, on a scale much larger than anything we had in Season One. For example, at the end of the Ryloth trilogy it would have been fantastic to have had a battle at the capital city with gunships firing, bombardments from above, and Separatist ships countering. But it really wasn’t a possibility for us to get that rendered at that time. I like that episode very much; I just wish the city had been more fortified when they attacked it, but we didn’t have the ability to do that.

I guess in some ways it’s like seeing the attack on the first Death Star compared to the second Death Star. You’re never lacking for the presence of a Rebel fleet or an Imperial fleet in A New Hope, but if you think about the giant logistics of a war, you do kind of wonder, “Well, if there’s an Imperial fleet and their main engagement is the Rebels, then why aren’t they jumping in from all over the place?” So you have to suspend that disbelief when you make stories, which I think we did pretty well with the Ryloth episodes. But when you’re aware of it you want to then later attack it head-on and say, “Okay, let’s do a battle, let’s do a landing, let’s do this in a massive way.” That’s a heavy task for a film, let alone a television series. We’ve got several arcs of episodes that I think are more emotional in tone and that delve into deeper layers of characters, and that’s going to be fun for people to watch. I’m very excited by Season Two as a whole. We have a nice gamut of episodes. Each week there’s going to be something different. Not to say that Season One was bad, but we looked at it and wanted to improve on what we did—and we have.

Who is the unsung hero of your team on the show?

That’s so hard to say, but I think for animation in general, a lot is always going to be made about the directors and the artists. It’s easy to see the tangible work that we do creatively on the artistic side of making a series like The Clone Wars, but the production staff behind the series, the people who have to sit down and figure how we’re going to get all this done, do a tremendous amount of work; it’s not glamorous work that gets written about much, if at all.

For example, if we have five new characters to build in a couple weeks, how are we going to budget an artist’s time? How are we going to get that done? How do these people manage all their time, my time, finding time, making time when there is none? The production staff does a tremendous amount of work behind the scenes to make sure this series gets done. It’s always very impressive to me. I just say, “This needs to happen,” but they actually have to figure out how. There are a lot of unsung heroes there. They’re here late making schedules, dealing with hundreds of assets, planets, and bizarrely-named things. And you know, they’re just as big fans as the rest of us. They’re huge Star Wars fans!

My associate producer Athena Portillo worked for Lucasfilm Licensing long before she ever worked on The Clone Wars. She actually wrote for Star Wars Insider, I think. [Ed: Athena wrote for issues 32, 34, and 35 in 1997.]

I get a lot of talk-back about being a fan, but the fandom of the crew of T The Clone Wars runs deep, so I think it’s in the production staff, it’s everywhere, in the rock, in the tree, in the grass....

You've kind of become a Star Wars celebrity. Could you say a few words about the fan response to the show, and what it's like signing autographs?

Well, I’ll tell you that it’s bizarre signing autographs, that’s for sure. The fan response, the fans themselves, have been nothing but fantastic. I’ve never had anything but great interactions with them. I always hate to say “with them.” I don’t feel any different today than I did when I was standing in line for The Phantom Menace—I honestly don’t. I feel incredibly lucky to have the job I do. I’m incredibly flattered that people want to talk to me about Star Wars and ask me questions about it, and I understand why. I wouldn’t have this job without people watching the show and wanting us to make it, so I do whatever I can when I’m at events and talk with them and say as much as I can without spoiling anything. That’s always hard! But it’s a real privilege to be this involved and to be a part of Lucasfilm.

I feel that so much has been made of me being a fan for so long, I’m just trying to represent that well. I mean, you can be a fan of this stuff and actually go on to make it. Peter Jackson was a big fan of the Lord of the Rings books, so who better to make those movies than Jackson because he is a fan? I think it shows when you have someone behind a project who really cares about it and can discuss it with fellow fans in a way they are passionate about. It’s always fun. I’ve been going down to Star Wars Weekends at Walt Disney World for two years and I always enjoy that. I recognize and know a lot of these people. It’s fun to represent them and to be involved. It’s always funny when people ask me though, “Can you sign something?” and I go, “Sure.” I see no value in that whatsoever. So I try to give them something more, which is a little drawing or something, because I feel that has more intrinsic value. I give them something other than my poor scribble! My grandmother would not like that signature at all!

#Dave Filoni #Season 2 #insider #i114 #crew #the clone wars #inspiration for character focus in S2 and behind-the-scene process