#wild bit of synchronicity

[eightyonekilograms]

In the same way that the 80s didn't actually end until the Soviet Union dissolved in 1991 and the 90s didn't actually end until 9/11, I would argue the 2010s didn't really end until BuzzFeed News shut down last week and Ben Smith published his retrospective obituary of the BuzzFeed/Gawker/Jezebel/etc. machine.

#in a weird coincidence the WHO declared the covid emergency over last week too #wild bit of synchronicity

[rae-writes]

Firstly, big fan of your poly mc x obey me brothers stuff. Secondly, I'm a bit curious about the dynamics between the brothers and mc (cough three-ways cough). Obviously Beel and Belphie wouldn't mind working together, but do you have any headcanons regarding the other brothers sharing?

threesome parings lets gooo! // nsfw, poly!mc (duh) // dateables and sides next maybe?? ;)

Obvious parings

Beel + Belphie; this one is the most obvious, but it works so well (Belphie likes to say they're the best tag-team). It can leave you reeling because you don't always know what's going on when they communicate with just their eyes. The favorite positions in this team are probably: you sitting on one's face while sucking the other off; riding one while the other fucks you from behind; spooning with one in front of you and one behind you

"Such a fuck-ing slut for us, huh? Our pretty little slut."

"o-oh..yeah, move your hips like that again, please..g'na c-cum-!"

"Please go faster, Mc..uh-huh, like that..a-ah! Yesyesyes, cumming! 'm cumming, oh fuck!"

"Your mouth is always so good...here, do Belphie next. Wanna prep you with my tongue."

"Mmm...slow down over there, Beel. We said we'd go slow...'s still early..'m tired." "Sorry, Belphie, but they feel so good..just listen to them. They need us." "..fine...we're going back to sleep after, though."

Lucifer + Satan; yes. These two. Their synchronized energy is almost on par with the twins (even if it's like a subtle competition the whole time) and they do everything so smoothly and seductively it makes you hot and bothered at a rate that should be illegal. The favorite positions for this team are probably: bent over something, one pounding you from the back while you suck off the other; being held up while they fuck you standing, one in front and one behind

"Come on, you can suck my cock better than that. Don't tell me he's made you dumb already?"

"No, no, no, moan my name. Yeah, that's it baby, let me hear you. Louder."

"I'm cumming- don't fucking move. I don't care if he's close, I'm filling you up first."

"You look so pretty, Mc...so. fucking. gorgeous. Doing so good for us, always do so good."

"Hold it. Yes, you can, and you will." "Don't be so mean to them, Lucifer. I think they've well earned the right to cum, don't you? I wanna feel it. Let them cum." "No. If you keep mouthing off, I'll take them away and you can finish yourself off. They hold it until I say so."

Mammon + Asmo; PARTY DUO! They're so wild and filthy and it's so fun to have both at the same time. Tag teaming you is one of the times they can bounce their energies off each other without arguments. The favorite positions of this team (though they're down to try any positions) are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; train style- fucking one [w/strap or dick] while the other fucks you; both squeezing themselves between your legs to give you oral

"Harder! Yeah, yeah, yeah- like that! Come on, Mammon, fuck them faster, I need them to give me more!"

"Ahh, fuck...you're so fuckin' good t'me, baby. Look so good, you're so damn perfect- look at me, look at me, baby...fuuuckkk.."

"Come on, hon! Spread those legs a biiit wider...don't be shy~ show us your pretty self..gotta give us room to work our magic!♡"

"Rock them hips over me, baby, yeahh..make me feel so fucking good. Takin both of us so well."

"Ooh, turn them around this way!" "No way! They faced you the last time, I wanna look at them this time." "That's so not fair- oh! Aw, just listen to that little whine...you need us that badly, Mc?" "Course they do, you kept us waitin so damn long. Don't worry, baby, we gotcha."

Not-so-common pairings

Asmo + Belphie; little odd pairing here, but Asmo cancels out Belphie's sloth (and even gets him riled up in a way only Azzy can) so once you experience it, it's like the shock of temperature play. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding Belphie while Azzy fucks you from behind; sitting on Bel's face while sucking Asmo off; getting fucked by one; head hanging off the side of the bed, while the other fucks your throat

"I knew I made the right idea picking this set out for you! You look absolutely gorgeous, Mc! Put on a little show for us?"

"Mmmnn...move faster..yeah, come on..ugh- please? Please, for me...y-yeah! Like that.."

"The way you move your tongue like that has me spinning, darling! A-ah..ah, ah-! I'm gonna cum!"

"No, no, no, look at me. At me, Mc, not at Asmo. I wanna see your face when you cum on my cock- take that pretty mouth of yours off his dick and scream my name."

"Come on, Belphie! You gotta get motivated! Just look at them, laying there so pretty for us!" "I can make them feel good without acting like you, you know." "Not unless you want me to steal them away~ Ooh, there's that competitive look in your eye!"

Lucifer + Levi; not necessarily an ‘odd’ pair, but definitely one we don’t see often. With the elder commanding the room and the younger so willing to follow along, it makes for a smooth combination (and an easy dynamic to settle into). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sucking off one while the other fucks you from behind; bending Levi over and fucking him while Luci bends you over the other and fucks you from behind; sitting on Levi’s face while sucking Lucifer off

"Ah, ah, ah. If I can hear you forming words, it means you're not sucking his cock properly. Doesn't Levi deserve some pleasure, too, hm? Go on, choke on it."

""Nghh! You f-fuck me s'good! Hnn...h-huh? Y-yes...yes, y'r fucking me dumb already- 'm your good boy t-though, please keep going!"

"So willing and obedient...you don't know what you really even do to me, do you?"

"Mmph...love the way you taste..ride my tongue faster."

"You can fuck them harder can't you? If their mouth isn't being forced onto my cock, it means you're slacking again." "S-s-sorry...they just- ah!- f-feel so good...my legs are..are already shaking." "Already? Well, if you aren't going to do it properly, let's just switch positions."

Mammon + Beel; again, not ‘odd’, but more so an overlooked- giving based- combo. They’re pretty much all about you, so it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes (but in the best way). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sitting on one’s face and giving head to the other; laying on your sides, each fucking you from the front and back; riding one while the other feels you up and plays with you

"Aw, why're ya cryin', baby? Yeah? Feels good? Sweet little thing...how bout we make ya feel even better?"

"No, no- don't run away, Mc..not done yet..you can take us both at the same time, know you can."

"Y'look s'good ridin' him like that. Can't wait for my turn, fuck, do you feel what you do to me? C'mon, baby, feel it...s'all for you."

"Make him cum again..I don't wanna stop tasting you yet."

"Beel! C'mon! I wanna taste 'em too! Stop hogging!" "But their taste.." "I know- but look at 'em. They're dying to taste you, too. So give me a turn, yeah? Let 'em get their fill." "Okay...just for you, Mc.."

Levi + Belphie; this one…is interesting. It’s easy to run things because of their natures, but this is the unofficial ‘drastic switch’ team— you never really know what you’re getting with them. The favorite positions for them are probably: giving both a handjob while they pleasure you; riding one and making out with the other; getting fucked from behind and fucking the other

"D-don't stop- hnn..! O-oh, u-uh-huh, make me cum again, don't care if 'm sensitive, wanna cum again for you!"

"Noo! Come back...mmph..mm...don't stop kissing me. Don't care- I'll move your hips for you, don't worry about Levi, just focus on me."

"You look so. fucking. good. bent over for me. Shh, don't listen to Belphie's bitching, he's getting fucked every time I slam my cock into you, so focus on me."

"Pull my hair. Yeah, like that- mm! Let me fuck you harder..please? He won't care, he can take it, I need to fuck you harder, Mc, please!"

"Quit hogging them! It's not fair!" "Is that all you ever say? It's not my fault you don't ask them to give you what you need. I do. So I'm going first." "H-hmph! Mc, Belphie's being mea- oh..oh your hand feels good..yeah stroke me like t-that.."

Other good mentions

Lucifer + Mammon; these two can communicate with just their eyes as well as the twins can, okay, they absolutely have your head spinning— and usually, the eldest is in charge of the whole thing but sometimes his favoritism shows and he lets Mammon take over. The favorite positions in this team are probably: each fucking you standing, from front and back; sucking one off while the other guides the pace; rough makeout session to see who gets to be in charge (and sometimes it’s you)

"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Mc? I can tell by the way you're already drooling for us...all dumb and pretty. All ours."

"Doin' such a good job, baby...uh-huh, bob your head a liiittle faster, like..this. Use your tongue too...hear the way he's moanin' for ya?"

"Don't make fun of me...is it so wrong that I want to feel your touch, too? I love the rake of your nails across my skin..indulge me, won't you?"

"I don't even care if 'm not in charge this time- just don't stop kissing me..haven't felt your lips on mine all day, please, fuck, don't ever stop kissing me."

"Well? What are you going to do now that you're in control this time, Mammon?" "Heh..overstimulate him, Mc. 'n don't stop until he's shooting blanks." "...what? Mc, don't you d-ah! Gr..damnit...fuck, it feels good.."

Mammon + Levi; they might act like it’s a big competition sometimes, but all they really care about is making you feel good, and when their energies are in sync, it’s crazy. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; getting fucked while fucking the other, spreading your legs wide open so they can both give you oral

"Don't be such a fuckin' sore loser, Levi. Just put your mouth on 'em and shut up..we don't getta talk till their legs are shakin."

"C-can't handle when you s-stare at me like that..m-makes me feel all hot a-and bothered..especially w-when he keeps fucking you e-even closer."

"Can take it- promise I can take it! Don't stop fucking me, need it s'bad!"

"Hah! Look at him! He's practcially in tears from just one orgasm..h-huh? W-w-what are you doing- no, d-don't! You're..going too fast..a-ahhh..c-cumming! N-no..'m not crying..'m not!"

"What'd you say?!" "You heard me! You're not that dumb, are you?" "You little- Mc? Oh, no, we're sorry baby...no, no, we didn't mean to forget you, we'll make it up. Here..put that tail of yours to good use, Levi." "Yeah..okay..we're sorry, Mc. That feel good?"

Satan + Asmo; this pairing can be so softly sweet and so passionately intense, it should come with a whiplash warning (but are you really complaining?). The favorite positions for this pair are probably: laying down while one fucks you from each side, getting fucked while making out with the other, mutual masturbation and getting edged while edging them

"Ah, ah, ah...not yet, love, don't cum yet. It'll feel better if we wait, yeah? Hold it for me...just a little longer."

"You look so sexy, all disheveled like this! Gets me all hot and bothered every time! Hehe! ♡"

"Arch your back for me- just like that. Makes it go even deeper, doesn't it? Just. like. this. Ohh, fuck, make that sound for me again- 'm gonna cum."

"Stroke me faster, baby, please! Uh-huh, uh-huh...mm! Cumming! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Calm down, Asmo. Mc's had a tiring day..let's take it slow and make them feel better, hm?" "Ooh, you're absolutely right! We'll take care of you, hon, you won't even have to lift a finger!" "Relax, love...we've got you."

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me smut #om smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #om lucifer #mammon x reader #mammon smut #om mammon #leviathan x reader #leviathan smut #om levi #satan x reader #satan smut #om satan #asmo x reader #asmo smut #om asmodeus #beel x reader #beel smut #om beelzebub #belphie x reader #belphie smut #om belphegor

[rainylana]

“Yup, that’s my wife.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: this is a part two of “i think i’m in love.” i wasn’t even going to make another part but you guys all demanded it lmao.

for those who wanted tagged<3

@imdoingbetternow @imangy @ahzysauce

@moonymatt @your-starless-eyes-remain @catherinnn

warnings: omg this is so fluffy i can’t. some language, eddie and dustin being chaotic as hell. it’s just so cute lmao. i know nothing of dnd so that’s a warning all by itself.

a/n: honestly should i just make this a series?? i think i could figure out a way to continue to build it. idk, let me know! Also, my requests are open! send me something!

update! i did make this a series lol, part three is here

“She’s coming right?”

“What time did you tell her?”

“You think we should clean up a bit? It’s a shithole in here.”

“Fuck, she’s gonna hate it. I know it. Not even married yet and we’ve gotten divorced.”

The hellfire club was in shambles, running and zooming around the school basement preparing for your big arrival. Eddie’s heart raced as the clock ticked on, his fingers twitching at his sides to see you again. You’d left a sweet taste in his mouth all day long, his mind could not leave your gentle, smiling face. He knew he was falling head over heals, but could you blame him? He wasn’t used to any woman being interested in what he said, nor did they ever want to hang out with him. This was new, and he was going insane.

“Jesus, why am I dusting!” Mike coughed. “I don’t think she’s gonna care if there’s dust, Eddie. I mean, you’ve got Gareth and Jeff sweeping!”

“Shut up, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped his fingers, standing on the dnd table as he tampered with the light fixture. “We needed to clean up anyways, this just gave us an excuse.”

“I picked her some flowers!” Dustin smiled tooth-fully, bringing some wild flowers out of his back back.

“What! No!” Eddie jumped off the table, his feet smacking against the floor. “She’s mine, Henderson. I saw her first.”

“Technically, I did.” Mike crossed his arms, earning a synchronized ‘shut up’.

“Give me those!”

“Fuck no! Go pick some yourself, I think I saw some grass outside-”

Your knock sounded loudly throughout the room, causing flinches and everyone to shut the hell up. Dustin hurriedly placed the flowers on the table behind him, stepping forward to open the door, but he was snatched back by the collar as Eddie yanked him backwards.

“Mine, Henderson.” He whispered, giving the freshman a death glare. He fixed his hair anxiously, straightening his wrinkled shirt as he looked about the room. “Look presentable.” He ordered, and they blindly straightened their posture.

He took a deep breath, begging a god he didn’t believe in to get him through the night. He opened the door, his face melting into a smirk at the sight of you. “Looks like Barbie showed.” He said over his shoulder, and you giggled under his stare.

“Think I wasn’t going to show?” You asked, making your way into the room as he shut the door behind you.

“Don’t take it personally, kiddo,” He took your arm in his to give you the grand tour, and you blushed awkwardly with a sly grin. “You just keep blowing our minds every chance you get. Anyways! You remember Dustin.” He gestured with his other hand, smirking a villainous glare at the boy as he held your arm.

“Yes, hi! How are you?” You smiled, tilting your head.

“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, reaching behind him to grab the flowers. Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I actually picked-”

“I picked these for you.” Eddie snatched the flowers out of his hand, petals dropping to the floor. “Here. Hope you like- well, whatever these are.”

You chuckled at their interaction, observing the messy picked flowers in hand. “Thank you.” You looked to both of them, dropping Eddie’s arm as you turned around. “So this is the game?” Your eyes danced amongst the pieces, your hands ghosting over the dice and other figures.

Perhaps you were crazy, showing up for some supposed “demon summoning” board game with a bunch of people you didn’t know. But what did you have to loose? Besides, it had been many years since you felt comfortable with a group like this. Besides, you felt more at home with the outcasts than with anyone else. They were obviously flirty, you knew that from the get-go, but they were harmless. And you liked Eddie. He was handsome and funny, had a charismatic energy about him that made you feel welcomed. You didn’t feel that often.

Your presence stuck out in the room, and while you were focused on the game pieces, everyone was staring at you, their mouths hanging open as you brought the 20 sided dice up to your eyes. Eddie nearly fainted at the sight. Never once, had a girl touched those pieces. Never once, had a girl played dnd with him before. Oddly enough, it felt like a date to him.

You had on skinny jeans, a baby pink, long sleeve shirt that clung your body. Your hair was let loose, curls flowing down your back with a pink bow, resting on the back of your head. You had on little pearl earrings, a singular silver ring that had your birthstone on it. Emerald. August. Your white converse were spick and span clean, unlike everyone else’s.

“Is this the-” You went to ask again, but froze when you seen everyone’s eyes on you. You clamped your mouth shut, looking at Eddie awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Eddie scratched the back of his head. “Here, we should- let’s get started then!” He announced, embarrassed that he was caught staring.

“Hey,” Dustin poked your shoulder, whispering quietly as everyone got in their seats. “You can sit by me if you want.”

“Actually, Henderson,” Eddie nearly shouted over his sheep, standing at the head of the table. “She’s sitting on the throne tonight.” He smiled widely, his teeth reflecting off the light as he patted the throne, scooting out the chair.

Everyone gasped at the sight. No one sat in that chair besides him.

He took your hand to help you into the seat, quickly looking over your delicate ring. His looked a lot bigger. It was weird for everyone to see Eddie sitting beside you, in just a regular chair, but you, however, looked spectacular.

“Wow,” You giggled, stretching your hands out in front of you. “All I need is a crown.”

They chorused your laughter like obedient followers. You were the ruler now. Eddie’s little dungeon master in training. “So,” You looked to him. “Let’s play.”

His lips curled into a slow smirk. Yeah, he was definitely in love.

•

You were there for almost five hours, and sleep deprivation creeped in, though you didn’t care. Dungeons and Dragons was the coolest game you’d played since twister, and that was years ago. You had gotten so into it, and everyone cheered you on as you got your feet wet into the game.

It was hard to learn at first, but they walked you through every step and made sure you understood everything. Eddie practically held your hand throughout the entire game, like a parent worried their toddler wouldn’t survive without their grip. It shocked him how easily you were able to catch on, and even though you made a mistake here and there, or mispronounced something, he wouldn’t correct you.

It had gotten to the point where you were subconsciously flirting with him, though you weren’t even really aware of it. He just made you so comfortable, and for once in your life, you didn’t feel the need to fake having a good time. Your life was hard, harder than others, sometimes. You felt guilty for thinking that, because you knew you were lucky to have the family you did. Still, even with the family you had, you felt incredibly lonely. Tonight you didn’t though.

“Do you have a way to get home?” Eddie glanced up, finishing putting away the game pieces. Everyone had pretty much left, besides you two. You insisted on staying and helping clean up, so that meant that he was going to stay. Dustin didn’t even try to get a word in, it was obvious Eddie wasn’t going to budge. He politely said goodbye, awkwardly patting your shoulder and sending knives to his buddy. Or, ex buddy.

“I drove.” You smiled, pushing in chairs. “I don’t live very far away.”

He nodded, mouth opening and closing as he thought about what to say. “Are you- well, you plan on sitting with us tomorrow?”

“Oh,” You gulped, blushing. “I’d like to, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rushed, messing with his hair. “I like you. I mean, we like you. The kids and I. You’re pretty. Fun, you’re pretty fun!” He rambled, turning as he shoved the game box into a drawer.

You kept in your laugh, lips pursing together. “Okay.” You nodded, brushing off your hands. “Cool.”

You looked around for anymore trash, hoping to stay longer. “I guess I should go.” You grabbed your back, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Okay.” He walked over to the door, opening it for you. You stopped in front of him, and he smiled awkwardly. “Thank you for tonight.” You said genuinely, ignoring the urge to smile like an idiot. “I mean it, I had a lot of fun. You think I could play again sometime?”

His heart leaped, eyes growing into heart shapes like a damn cartoon character. “Yeah! Of course, sure. I’ll even get you a crown for next time.” He chuckled while you did the same.

You didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want you too, either. You knew you’d die of embarrassment later, but you stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in an awkward, yet sweet hug.

“Oh,” He muttered softly, stiffening at the contact. He brought up a hand to pat your back, pursing his lips.

You pulled away and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Goodnight.” He smiled, closing the door behind you. He listened to the sound of your shoes until he couldn’t anymore, and he sighed loudly and dramatically.

“Yup, that’s my wife.”

#stranger things season four #eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader

[matenrou-fan]

Cockwarming HC with Mammon

I know I'm having requests in my inbox right now and no one asked for this but a sudden idea rushed to my mind so here we are..!

Femreader, teasing (both from Mammon's and reader's side), begging (from Mammon's side)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

-Despite his bratty behavior (and the way he looks in his demon form lol), Mammon is not that kinky and probably doesn't know what cockwarming is.

-You two discover that interesting pleasant thing accidentally during one of your quality time alone.

-He pins you to the wall in his bedroom, your bodies so hot and close to each other, your hearts beating in one rhythm and your tongues dancing together.. He cups your ass cheeks with his warm hands as he slowly enters inside you, enjoying the little sounds you make.

-That when you two suddenly hear a loud thud in the corridor, accompanied by someone's scream. Mammon froze in place, his cock still deep inside you, twitching and trembling. You also get quite scared, squeezing his hips with your thighs and looking at the door with widened eyes.

-But it turned out that it was Levi, he ran out of his bedroom, almost breaking his door as he screamed about a new figure of Ruri-chan that was raffle off in one of his favorite shops and he should be there ASAP.

-When everything turns silent again you and Mammon breathed a sigh of relief almost synchronously, but he was still standing like this, holding you tight to his chest.

-"Am I tripping or it feels kinda nice..?" - he whimpered in your ear, rubbing his hips against yours. You can't help but moan a little, feeling him fully inside your clenching pussy was actually pleasant, but you were already hungry for some friction.

-So you suggest trying this next time, as now you need him to give you a good and fast pounding. And Mammon is always willing to do as you ask.

-After that you do a little research just to find that it's actually a thing in sex that many couples enjoy and it can be a great foreplay before the main act.

-So from now you two love to do this, especially if you have a lot of free time that you can spend pleasuring each other.

-Despite Mammon actually really likes it, sometimes it's so hard to sit in place when he hears your little gasps and whimpers, your legs around his waist so tight as you sit in his laps, hands grabbing his shoulders so desperately..

-So eventually you started to use cockwarming as a punishment to him sometimes, when he again spent too much money for random things or got into another one stupid story with witches.

-His face is just so cute when he blushes like that, not able to control his voice. Your tight walls are squeezing him so well, all he can think about is this hot wetness of your cunt around his dick.

-Mammon can furrow his brows and look away as much as he wants, but you can feel as he getting harder inside you, meaning that he's actually quite enjoy this little humiliation. So it won't take that long for him to break and start begging, as he whines shyly for more.

-"Please.. S/o, I can't take any more.." - such a husky and trembling voice as he gasps for air, breathing so heavily. His hot arms on your waist as he squeezes your soft skin impatiently, admiring your beautiful body with cloudy eyes. - "Please.. Let me cum.."

-He would be more sloppy but faster than usual, as he can't control this urge inside his body, already so horny. You can't even imagine how hungry and needy you make him feel, but maybe his moans, much louder and hopeless than his casual voice, will be a hint for you.

-As much as he can be passive and obedient in bed, he also doesn't mind to be in the dominant and playful side, if the mood is just right.

-Holding your hips in place with his pretty strong hands when you try to squirm around, hoping for some friction. His smirk is so wild and amusing, as he scolds you a little.

-"Come on, s/o, you can be a good girl for me, alright? Just a little bit more and I will reward you greatly.." - he kisses your earlobe, whispering in such teasing tone… truly, a demon. But this little mockery just makes your body tingle as you feel a wave of goosebumps running down your core, and Mammon immediately notices that. - "Mm? I can see that you really enjoy our little play, don't you, darling?"

-As this sudden discovery spiced up your time in the bedroom a little, now you two were willing to find and try more new things. Who knows just how many interesting ways of pleasing you will find?

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me mammon x reader #mammon obey me #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #mammon smut #mammon x you #om! mammon #obey me smut

[the-descolada]

So this is a bit of a long shot but I'm convinced it's correct:

We finally know for sure that Aerial is, in fact, Eri, uploaded into a mobile suit body by Prospera to save her life after being unable to withstand living in space after synchronizing with Lfrith's data storm perfectly. She exists only as Permet now, a digital biometric pattern, but Prospera's care to the point of obsession means that she is willing to do anything to allow her to survive and in the future, truly live again. By expanding the range of the data storm through Quiet Zero at a whopping Permet Score 8, Prospera believes that Eri can be "free."

Seems needlessly ominous for what could potentially be a doting mother's plan to help her child, but pretty much everything else about how Prospera operates tells us there's more going on here, and points to what Eri being "freed" could actually mean...and the possibility is uhhhh turbofucked!

Nortrette Rembran was a botanist, focused on biological engineering, with the idea of using plant adaptations to help humans survive in space (which, funnily enough, sounds very parallel to Dr. Cardo Nabo's research into GUND prosthesis), and this is stated to be the origin of the idea behind Quiet Zero. The show, obviously, has been basically smacking us over the head the entire time with a TON of visual metaphors related to plants - specifcally, tomatoes.

Tomatoes, of course, are practically inedible in the wild, and are only juicy and delicious due to centuries of both breeding and transgenics - making them something Nortrette was extremely interested in as both a hobby and for research, and Miorine after her in sentimentality. Tomatoes have been used to symbolize growth, maturity, immaturity, discarding, you name it - it's been really on the nose and very well done, with this recent episode as an obvious example during Suletta and Miorine's conversation in the greenhouse.

Which brings us to this segment in the ED, showing some kind of event happening between Suletta and Eri (using a very obvious Utena reference, of course), followed by Suletta (and this is definitely Suletta based on age) being covered in very elegant Permet tech marks before "awakening" in some way.

I think Suletta is the tomato, here. She, through a combination of Nortrette and Prospera's research, may be a bioengineered clone of Eri's original body, a body already perfectly in sync with the data storm, and now made to withstand space as Eri could not, as well as being more synchronized (or susceptible) to Permet - perfect for letting the expanded QZ data storm enabled Eri hop right into a physical human body again.

Prospera's grooming of Suletta seems horrifying already, but I think it's clear she doesn't care about Suletta because she doesn't see her as her daughter or even a person - she quite literally sees her as a tomato, to be plucked, and eaten.

#gundam #g witch #g witch spoilers #gundam the witch from mercury #suletta mercury #ericht samaya #prospera mercury

[dsknsk]

I feel like the very concept of E.G.O Corrosion isn't talked enough about (maybe due to their hair nearly always remaining) but just stop and realize how creepy it is.

So, picture the following.

You are going into battle, together with your allies. Both you and them are armed and skilled, even if you don't always know what you will be facing. For emergency cases, your superior has given you something called E.G.O. And to gain it, you had to come into contact with...something. Something clearly not human. Something that you don't fully understand, but you know that it behaves with a totally different logic and morality than what you consider familiar. They call it an 'Abnormality', after all.

But somehow, you resonated with it. It was like something from deep inside of you accepted it. Like you felt what it felt. Maybe it was its struggles that particularly moved you. Or just everything it stood for.

You don't know. Either way, it resulted in you being able to synchronize with it, just for a moment, transforming you to draw out its powers to fight with. It's like a short while that you cooporate, it agreeing with you just for a moment.

And yes, it talks to you.

Usually, it's in the background and you can easily drown it out with your own thoughts. And you only talk back when you're using E.G.O. But it's there. You feel a bit mentally drained after using E.G.O too, so you prefer not to use it too often.

At first, the fight goes just about okay. You start to think that you'll get this cleared together anytime soon. Your allies are fighting next to you, and everytime they happen to win a clash, your mind brightens up a little, boosting your own confidence in turn.

But then.

One of your allies fails a clash, and their punishment is harsh. The enemy doesn't seem to stop their assault on them, staggering them and beating them into a pulp. And then, you've lost them.

You know that in the end, you'll all be brought back, but it nonetheless takes a toll on you. Your mind blurs, and you find yourself losing your focus much more often. At the very least, you see that your allies aren't doing so well, either.

It doesn't take long before things go from bad to worse, and your mind can't take it anymore. The voice of the Abnormality you resonated with rings in your head still, but now, you can't bring yourself to suppress it anymore. Your mind is too weary to do such a thing.

So you allow for it to swallow you whole.

Your consciousness falls into a dark abyss, your body warping as the Abnormality takes over, speaking through your mouth, with your voice. You've lost all common sense and couldn't care less for arbitrary things like 'ally' or 'enemy'. Why do they matter, anyway? You can't bring yourself to think about it.

So you lash out. You let it lead for you, letting it run wild with free reign. Your body is changed, cruelly contorted into...something that they stare at in horror. The cries and desperate shouts of those around you don't reach you anymore. It's all clouded over, until...

You're back.

Still in a daze but also not, you feel that you can think for yourself again. You're not doing great, but you're not going off the deep end like just then either. You now know what you just did - the looks on your allies' faces tell you enough. And even now the voice is back to being just slight background noise, your acts just then will always feel like it was on some level, your own.

There's no time to think about that, though. For the battle hasn't yet ended.

#limbus company #yes i think abnos talk to the wielders of their ego #weve read it in kalis book in ruina #and in the same game the abno associated text appears above the nugget head when you choose them for an abno page

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 5 - And Fresh-Fallen Rain

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

It was only a matter of time before Pomni blinked herself awake. 

Wave after wave of pulsing pain, synchronized with the beat of her heart, relentlessly pounded the back of her skull. A landscape of crimson curls, wild weeds, and shimmering stars expanded, contracted, and twisted before her half-lidded eyes. The disorienting sight was more than enough to make her stomach do flips — and fail to stick the landing every single time.

But even so, it was hard to feel anything but content. 

The wind was fierce and frigid, but Pomni didn’t know it. She didn’t feel the bitter cold, even as gale after freezing gale slashed her skin like the crack of a whip. All the pain in the world wouldn’t have phased her, not as long as the wind’s touch highlighted the slightly-wet spots where Ragatha’s lips had so lovingly grazed her face. 

Stalks of overgrown grass wavered as a brisk squall flew across the yard; a palette of fallen leaves, which just so happened to be sleeping in its path, was cast into the sky. Red, yellow, orange, and brown — the cozy colors swished and swirled through the air, then drifted back to their resting spot below the jungle-like lawn. 

It only took a moment for the breeze to return. Coming from the other direction now, it passed through Ragatha’s red yarn hair before pummeling Pomni’s face. All at once, the saccharine aroma of the ragdoll’s locks — strawberries and soil and fresh-fallen rain — introduced itself.  

And it was heavenly. 

Pomni’s eyelids drooped further, and a dumb, wobbly smile blossomed on her face. As her tiny arms wrapped around Ragatha’s plush, guffawing belly, she didn’t worry about how embarrassed she was to have fainted, or what Ragatha’s little kisses had meant, or why someone like her even deserved to be treated with such affection. Those pesky doubts were for future Pomni to agonize over; for now, they crumbled to pieces with each precious peak of Ragatha’s laughter.

“Oh! There she is!” Ragatha flinched as Pomni’s arms enfolded her. “I was starting to worry I up and killed you…”

“Nope! Still kicking.” Pomni chirped, “But just barely…” 

Slowly, Ragatha’s giggles began to peter out, but their spirit still tickled every word she spoke. “Goodness me — aren’t you in a good mood! Your head didn’t hit the ground too hard, did it?”

Pomni waffled. She decided not to tell Ragatha about the big lump on the back of her head — the redhead would just worry herself sick, after all. “...I’m fine. Just a little bit dizzy.”

“I really am sorry.” Ragatha placed her soft hands atop Pomni’s, idly dragging her digits across the jester’s worn leather gloves. “I should have warned you before I…” she paused. “Well, y’know…”

Pomni could feel the heat rising in Ragatha’s hands. She waited patiently for her to finish, but as the silence dragged on, it became increasingly clear that she’d have to be the one to break it. 

“No, it’s okay! Really! I just, um, wasn’t expecting…that. And if you think about it, it was actually my fault. I wouldn’t have fainted if I had just listened—”

“No, no! It was sweet! I don’t know. I just figured…” Ragatha said, a nervous tilt to her tone, “...since you were having so much fun getting into your character, I ought to return the favor.” Ragatha's hands were twitching now, “And…”

Somewhere nearby, a ladybug crested a wobbling blade of grass, flitted its wings, then buzzed away to who-knows-where. Another brisk gust wandered through the dilapidated yard, sending an armada of dandelion seeds sailing swiftly through the air.

“And…?” Again, Pomni was the one to shatter the silence. 

“Oh, nevermind.” Ragatha forced out a laugh. Pomni swore she could hear the woman’s blush. “I think I’ve just got an overactive imagination.”

Another pause. That made three. 

Pomni’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Unsure if this was even real, she slipped her hand out from beneath Ragatha’s, eager to simply trace the woman’s strong, soft frame…

… but her finger didn’t get very far before arriving at the gaping hole slashed across the ragdoll’s abdomen. 

Guilt flattened Pomni’s heart like a speeding train. Holding Ragatha close, the jester sat up in a snap, examining her friend’s injuries with a level of determination that could only be described as ‘obsessive’. 

Talk about a mood-killer — it was as if Pomni had never even bothered to stitch Ragatha up at all. Stuffing leaked out of the ragdoll here, there, everywhere. Nearly all of Pomni’s makeshift threads, nowhere close to well-crafted, were already failing — if they weren’t coming loose, the strings themselves were coming apart. 

Pomni clenched her teeth. Her brow descended, and her lips trembled fiercely. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t cry! You don’t have to worry about me.” Tenderly, Ragatha pushed herself against Pomni's little frame, “As long as you’re with me, I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”

“I’m not sad.” A stormy look came to Pomni’s face. “I’m angry.”

“...Angry?”

“Stupid #$&%ing tree monster. Stupid #$&%ing Caine!” Pomni bared her teeth, “Stupid #$&%ing circus!”

“H-Hey, now! Take a breath, okay? Let’s not get ourselves worked up—”

“No! I’m pissed!” In a snap, Pomni leapt to her feet, firmly holding Ragatha in her arms. “I’m not gonna let you get hurt anymore,” she said, making a beeline toward the haunted mansion, “Not a single scratch, from now until we escape this horrible circus together — I promise!”

Ragatha’s eyes were sparkling, though Pomni was too focused on climbing the front porch’s creaky staircase to notice. “Pomni, Y-You don’t have to do all that…!”

“Too bad. I want to.”

“O-Oh…” Ragatha’s breath felt warm against Pomni’s chest. “I see…”

Without another word. Pomni summited the porch stairs, where a pair of double-doors patiently awaited her arrival. She eyed the doorbell, but her hands were full — so she opted for three mighty kicks at the doors’ expense instead. “Hello? Anyone home?” 

Pomni and Ragatha waited for an answer. And then waited some more. Pomni’s shrill voice echoed at least a dozen times in the stiff silence. 

“Hellooo!?” Pomni’s ill-fitting boot pounded the door thrice more. “We don’t have all day, you know! Open up!”

“Pomni! It’s been five seconds!” Ragatha chided, “Don’t be rude!”

“Rude? What am I doing — interrupting supper time? They’re NPCs.”

“I know that! But still. It just feels so wrong…”

A relaxed smile found its way to Pomni’s face — at this point, the jester wouldn’t have been surprised if Ragatha were hiding a pair of angel wings underneath that pretty dress of hers. “Let me guess. You’re the type of person who feels guilty about not giving equal attention to all of your stuffed animals, aren’t you?”

“I—” Ragatha sputtered, glancing off. “N-No! I’m thirty years old! What makes you think I own stuffed animals?”

Pomni raised an eyebrow.  

Ragatha had been caught red-handed, and she knew it. It was incredible how quickly her face flushed completely pink. “Okay, first of all, how dare you attack me like this—”

Before Ragatha could even finish her tongue-in-cheek response, both girls simply lost it. Their uncontrolled, side-splitting laughter — one giggling, one cackling like a witch — spun together into a harmonious duet, and for a fleeting moment, both captives felt like they were home. 

“Alright, alright.” Ragatha wiped at her eyes. “Enough joking around. How about I just ring the doorbell for you, Sweetheart?”

“Huh?! No way! You have to stay still or you’re going to rip yourself! Look, I’ll just set you down—”

“On the dirty porch? Are you out of your mind?” Ragatha reached for the ornate button beside the door. 

“Hey! What are you doing?! I just told you—”

“Oops!” Ragatha poked the button, then quickly fell back into Pomni’s arms like a helpless princess. “Sorry, dear. Didn’t hear you!”

Pomni grumbled, and the doorbell replied with its signature chime. Windswept shutters battered cracked windows as Pomni and Ragatha stood there, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Pomni’s patience was in short supply. She stamped her foot, and the old porch whined. “Seriously?”

“Maybe the entrance is around the back? My old apartment building was like that.” Ragatha said. “Ordering anything by mail was just the worst. It’s like — I get that the mail carriers had to stick to a tight schedule, but they would never read the signs. Oh, and trick-or-treat was a nightmare every Halloween—”

Ragatha’s riveting tale was cut short as, at last, the double-doors swung open at the sound of the magic words — trick-or-treat.

Ragatha’s mouth fell open. Pomni wrinkled her brow. Both women studied the other’s outfit in stunned silence — and suddenly, Caine’s choice of costumes didn’t seem quite so arbitrary. 

“Ohhh…” They nodded in sync. “Right…”

Cautiously, Pomni poked her head through the door frame. If the scent of stale tobacco pouncing upon her senses was any indication, the surprises weren’t over yet. 

“It’s…” Pomni breathed, “...an elevator…?”

“Ooh, and an old-fashioned one, too!” Ragatha tapped her fingers together, excitedly peering inside. 

The interior was nothing if not visually striking. Each of its four walls, carved from cherrywood, hosted polished panels gilded with gold. Winding bands of white and black and gold and blue danced a tango across the smoke-stained carpet. An expensive-looking chair sat in the corner; an equally-elegant end table, complete with a flickering lamp, complimentary cigars, and a half-filled ashtray, sat to the left. 

“Gosh, and just look at all these little aesthetic flourishes!” Ragatha gushed. “Folks back then really put effort into making every little thing look beautiful. You know what I mean?”

“Uh-huh. S-Sure…”

“Sometimes I wish that attitude would make a comeback. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just an old soul…” 

Pomni blinked, regarding the elevator’s interior through empty pupils. She would have instinctively eyed the exit had she not already been standing in the middle of it. 

The jester couldn’t recall something as simple as her own name — but, by some cruel twist of fate, everything else about the life she’d had stolen from her remained crystal clear in her head: including her swarming, overcrowded menagerie of obsessive anxieties.

Back home, Pomni’s teeny-tiny cubicle — something she couldn’t believe she actually missed now — was located on one the higher floors of her employer’s drab highrise. Entering the lobby, a lengthy carpet led the eye to a conveniently-placed pair of lifts. Their metal doors, constantly opening and closing as employees funneled in and out, was a sure sign that another busy day of work lay ahead.

Pomni was quite familiar with the contraptions — which was reason enough for the tie-wearing twenty-something, armed with her trusty backpack, to begin each morning with a hard left towards the musty concrete stairwell instead. By the time she’d reach her floor, the young accountant would be out-of-breath, weak in the knees, and far sweatier than any sane person would ever like to be. In her book, though, it was worth the trouble. She would do anything in her power to avoid the sensory torture that was riding in one of those cramped sardine cans. 

Elevators were awful. Just awful. Women wearing far too aggressive perfume; men who had forgotten to wear any deodorant at all. Extroverted co-workers trying to make small talk; creepy strangers trying to hit on her. Idiots with no concept of personal space; morons with no respect for the fire marshall’s occupancy limit clearly posted on the wall in big, bold letters. 

But being stuck inside of a tiny box with eight other people was a dream compared to the experience of riding alone — where her mind could wander, and the simmering fear of some catastrophic malfunction could consume her thoughts. What if the power went out? What if she got stuck? What if she were trapped inside and ran out of oxygen? What if the cables snapped, and the final moments of her life would be her screaming in horror as the car was sent plummeting down the shaft?

Nope. Pomni didn’t like elevators. Not one bit. Sensitive to Ragatha’s feelings, however, the young woman tried her hardest to force a smile onto her face. “Wow. C-Classy…” 

For a moment, Ragatha didn’t even react. “...You’re nervous.” she tilted her head in concern, “What’s the matter, Sweetheart?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s the matter!” Pomni lied, and rather poorly, at that. “I was just…” she floundered, “...admiring the craftsmanship! Gee, don’t you wish they made stuff like this nowadays?”

“...Yeah. I just said that.”

“Right…! S-So…! Anyway…!”

Pomni closed her eyes, ducking her face behind Ragatha’s shoulders. Oh, come on! What are you waiting for? Just go! It’s just an elevator! You’ve had your whole life to be a coward — now’s the time to be brave. For her! You can do that, can’t you!?

The shaking jester steeled herself. The sole of her oversized boot departed from the sturdy wooden porch, swung forward, flirted with the elevator’s artsy carpet, pressed down… 

…and the entire car shifted with an ear-splitting creak. 

Pomni’s whole body seized up — she couldn’t stumble back onto the porch fast enough. Nope. Nope. Abso-#@%$ing-lutely not.

“Pomni! You are nervous!” Ragatha rubbed at her chest, “Oh, no — Ugh! I’m sorry! Are you afraid of elevators?”

Pomni squirmed in place. Her gut commanded her to keep up her defenses — to deny, deny, deny, because showing the slightest inkling of vulnerability had been punished so severely in the past. Despite all of her strongest instincts, however, the soft look of concern on Ragatha’s face hit her like a magic spell.

“Um,” Pomni’s shoulders slumped, “Maybe a teensy-tiny bit...”

“Oh, Sweetheart…” Ragatha drew closer, “Forget it, then. Why don’t we try looking for another way in?”

“N-No! It’s fine! This way is the fastest!”

“But I want you to be comfortable, too…”

“You’re worried about me?!”

Ragatha twisted her lips. “Is that bad…?”

“Yes!”

“O-Oh…”

“God, Ragatha — can’t you just be selfish for once in your freaking life!?” Pomni’s voice was sharpened to a fine tip. “I mean…look at yourself! You’re falling apart at the seams — literally!”

“Pomni! Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Watch me!” Pomni squished Ragatha against her chest before the ragdoll could even think to protest. Surging with adrenaline, she clenched her jaw, made peace with her god, and barreled forward. 

The ancient elevator quaked beneath her feet; each time it stirred, her body seized, preparing itself for the whole contraption to plummet into the endless abyss below. Pomni quailed at the sound of squeaking metal, cowered at the buzz of hydraulics, and pined after the whistling wind outside the car — a beacon of safety and stable footing. 

She shivered, choking on every haggard breath that just wasn’t enough — but somehow, the slight weight in her arms gave her the courage to open her eyes and face the music. 

“I…” Pomni stood in the center of the elevator. She looked down at a begrudgingly-happy Ragatha, each stammered word framed by bouts of breathless laughter, “...I did it!” 

Ragatha beamed, practically singing. “You did!” 

“Yes, indeed!” A series of polite claps sounded from behind. “Jolly good show, darling!”

Pomni just couldn’t stop smiling. “It was, wasn’t it?” she agreed. Sticking out her chest, the young woman pulled in a deep breath, and then…

…Wait a minute! Pomni spun around on a dime. Who said that!?

A ghostly figure, surrounded by an otherworldly aura, sat with her legs crossed in the elevator’s cushioned chair. Her outfit, equally as old-fashioned as her surroundings, evoked all the stylings of a suffragette. Her wide-brimmed hat cast a spooky shadow over her face. Her ruffled shirt was tucked neatly into a long, floral-print skirt. A silk sash spanned the length of her chest, bearing a progressive slogan spelled out in a simple typeface.  

An eerie smile crawled across the phantom’s ashen face. Slowly, she looked up from the book in her lap, and the lamp’s struggling flame gasped its final breath, “Going up?”

Pomni SHRIEKED. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” the ghost marked her place with a bookmark, closed her tome, and sharply raised her other hand, “Dining room. Fifth floor.”

With a light ‘ding’, the elevator’s sole exit slammed shut, casting the car in total darkness. The elevator rumbled as if caught in an earthquake, rusted gears whirring and whining all the way. 

“Uh…” Ragatha’s face fell. She looked up at Pomni, who was taking things exactly as well as you would expect. 

“WHAT?! HEY! NONONO! WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

“There’s the handrail, darling.” the ghost pointed with a wink, “You might want to make use of it sooner rather than later.”

“NONONO! LET ME OUT!” Pomni pounded her foot against the door, “WAITWAITWAITWAITWAIT—”

The ghost shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Suddenly, the elevator shot into the air at gravity-defying speeds, thrusting Pomni and Ragatha roughly into the floor — and pinning them there for the remainder of their abrupt ascent. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

The haunted lift halted the same way it had started.

Painfully. 

The doors slid open with an innocent chime, and the girls shivered in sync as the ghost’s ethereal high-heels passed straight through them. 

“Right this way, ladies.” the phantom twirled her fingers. A magical aura surrounded Pomni and Ragatha, dragging their aching forms behind the ghost as she stepped gingerly out of the car. 

A cozy dining room awaited beyond the threshold. Autumn-toned streamers stretched across the ceiling. A perimeter of potatoes, turnips, and radishes, strung up on strings and carved with grotesque faces, was proudly displayed on each wall. A large banner pinned to the wall read ‘ALLHALLOWTIDE GREETINGS’, just in case the apple-bobbing stations weren’t sufficiently on-the-nose.

A long, wooden table was situated in the exact center of the room, dominating the space. The ghostly woman sat herself at its head, and, with a flick of her finger, sat her dazed guests across from each other. 

“Well, well, well!” The ghostly specter fanned her face with her weighty novel. “Do my eyes deceive me, or has another troupe of wayward rabble-rousers dared to trespass upon the esteemed estate of—”

“Oh, God!” Pomni, green in the face, scrambled to slap her hands over her mouth. “Oh, holy #$@%—” She swiped the closest open receptacle she could find — a gorgeous Edwardian vase — and held her mouth against the opening. Her whole frame crumpled forward as her body quite ungracefully emptied itself out.

“P-Pomni!” Ragatha’s fingers grazed the side of her face. “Oh my goodness — are you alright?!”

The jester groaned. Plopping the vase back onto the table, she weakly nodded, trembling hands hugging her ailing stomach. “I’ll be fine. J-Just…give me a second…” she faceplanted into the large heap of candy corn piled on her plate. “This happens more often than you’d think…”

Ragatha pouted, watching Pomni’s face sink deeper into candy corn mountain. Individual pieces slid off of the young woman’s plate and scattered across the table. “Remember your breathing, okay, Sweetheart?”

Pomni flashed a flaccid thumbs-up.

“My word! What is the meaning of this?!” The ghostly apparition clenched her fists, lips curled back in disgust. “Perhaps if your detestable generation spent less time listening to that boorish ‘jazz’ music — and I’m being generous calling it music at all — you’d have room in those cramped skulls  to remember proper etiquette!”

In a flash, she tore open her book —  the cover read, ‘THE LADY’S BOOK OF COMMON ETIQUETTE & ASSORTED DEMONIC SPELLS — 1860 EDITION’ in embossed, glossy lettering.

The ghost loudly cleared her throat. She pointed to the text with a manicured fingernail,  “Immediately upon entering the parlor, find your hostess, and speak to her first. It is very rude to stop to chat with other guests before greeting the lady of the house.”

Ragatha blushed, shrinking in her seat like a scolded child. “Ma’am...”

“Hmph. As appalling as your conduct is, I suppose you aren’t completely hopeless. It’s worlds better, at least, than that infantile rabbitoid or that foul-mouthed modern-art abomination.” The haughty ghost shook her head. “But I digress — what business do you mortal wretches have in the decrepit domain of I, the great Margarethe MacGuffin?”

A long, drawn-out pause ensued — longer than usual. “Um…” Ragatha rapped on her chin, “…Who?”

“Who? What do you mean ‘who’?”

“Come to think of it, I’ve completely forgotten what we’re even supposed to be doing here. Pomni…?”

Groggily, Pomni lifted her head; more than a few candy corns came along, sticking stubbornly to her cheeks, chin, and forehead. “Brooch,” she sighed. A single morsel tumbled off her face, “We’re looking for the—”  

“Brooch, you say?!” Margarethe flinched at the word like a trained dog hearing its name. Her sour mood shifted in an instant. “You couldn’t possibly mean…” she drew closer, “...that brooch, could you? The legendary MacGuffin family heirloom? The priceless treasure forged in the highlands beyond Hadrian’s Wall, passed down from generation to generation—”

“Uh-huh! Sounds about right!” Pomni abruptly pushed her chair out, sending an avalanche of candy treats pittering and pattering across the hardwood floor. She wasted no time racing to Ragatha’s side — and gently, so gently, hooking her arm around the dolly’s. “So where do we go? What do we do? How do we leave!?” 

“I…” Margarethe balked. “Sit back down this instant, young lady!”

“Uh, hello?! Do you not see that my friend is practically in pieces, here? We don’t need your stupid theatrics — none of this is even real, anyway — just spit it out so we can go back to the tent and get her fixed!”

Margarethe’s posture was as sharp as a tack. “For shame! Never in my sixty-seven years have I witnessed such uncharismatic, uncouth, unbecoming behavior from a young bachelorette. Simply appalling —  you’ll never find a husband with that attitude.”

“Aw, really? You mean it?”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“HAHAHA!” Ragatha slapped the table, “G-Golly, Ms. MacGuffin! This glassware is just to die for! Wherever did you procure such a stunning collection?”

Margarethe hesitated — but then curtsied in appreciation. “Well! I’m glad you noticed. They’re just wonderful, aren’t they?” she proudly mused, “The help says they’re made of this newfangled, petroleum-based material that’s cheaper than glass and impervious to breakage. Bakelite, I believe it’s called — the material of a thousand uses!”

Pomni flicked the nearest goblet. She whispered in Ragatha’s ear: “I think they’re plastic.”

“Indeed — we are truly blessed to be reaping the plentiful fruits of the industrial age. Now, where was I…?” Margarethe tapped her bottom lip, “Ah, yes!”

Margarethe launched herself in the air with a flamboyant pirouette. “To make a long story short, the MacGuffin clan is, sadly, no more — our treasured brooch is the only artifact that remains of our storied legacy. My life is long behind me, but alas, as the matriarch of my kin, I cannot pass on into the next life until I find a soul brave enough to carry on the great MacGuffin legacy. Someone like…you two!”

Pomni and Ragatha looked at each other. “Us? You’re sure?”

“Certainly! But a MacGuffin knows no weakness.” Margarethe continued, “In order to secure my brooch, and carry on my proud family name, you must venture through my audacious abode…and confront your greatest fear!”

“Greatest fear…?” Pomni stammered. 

Margarethe flexed. “Then, and only then, can you consider yourself a true MacGuffin!”

“G-G-Greatest…” Pomni repeated, almost choking on her words, “...f-fear…?” 

“Why, of course, darling! You didn’t expect this to be a walk in the park, did you? It wouldn’t be much of an adventure without a little bit of challenge!”

Pomni stared straight ahead — but her pin-sized pupils didn’t perceive a single thing. 

Greatest fear.

The room shrank. 

Greatest fear. Greatest fear? What in the world was that supposed to mean!? Pomni didn’t have a greatest fear — as far as she knew, the obsessive thoughts that constantly terrorized her mind did so with total parity. How was she supposed to know which one had cost her the most sleep over the years?

Car crashes, plane wrecks, train derailments, high-speed transportation in general, being bitten by a wild animal and dying of rabies, stepping on a rusty nail and dying of tetanus, contracting some other horrible disease after forgetting to wash her hands and dying from that, being stalked by weird men, being assaulted by weird men, being kidnapped and murdered by weird men, weird men in general, disappointing her friends, disappointing her parents, disappointing her boss, people in general, her boss in general, being late to work, performing poorly at work, being fired from work…

Pomni’s eyes bulged. 

Work — oh, no. Work. WORK. 

Pomni’s mind had already overloaded itself merely accepting the notion that she was trapped forever in this weird, obscure computer game — so overloaded, in fact, that the horrific question of how the world was proceeding without her hadn’t even occurred to her.

Until now. 

How long had she been gone? One week? Two? Even more? Her blood ran cold at the realization — even if she were to escape the circus this very instant, there was no way she hadn’t already been fired, no way her cubicle wasn’t already cleaned out to make way for the next poor sap to apply to that god-forsaken office. 

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. That couldn’t happen. What was she going to do? Beg for her old job back? Apply for a new one? How the hell was she supposed to do that when her degree sucked, her resume could fit on a sticky note, and all her single reference could forward a potential employer was years and years of middling performance reviews?

Even if her boss was merciful, her rat bastard of a landlord wouldn’t lend her a single shred of sympathy. Not in a million years. The clock was ticking for Pomni to locate an exit before next month’s rent was due. Should she fail, and she certainly would, she’d return home to find someone else living in her apartment. Her space. The only place in the whole entire world where she felt safe. 

Her belongings would be auctioned off at best, and thrown away at worst. 

And…oh, God. She was a missing person. There were probably posters all over town. Posters plastered with her face and name, front-and center. Stapled to telephone poles, printed in the paper, pinned to those little bulletin boards at the supermarket. Everywhere. Millions of eyes, looking at her face. Reading her name.  

Pomni could already feel them burrowing into her back. Judging her. Pitying her. Laughing at her. The best thing they could do was look away in apathy. 

Her friends and family were probably searching high and low  — but their resolve would dull as the months paged over into years. Embers of hope, pining for her return, would still burn in their hearts until the very end, but it wouldn’t matter in the long run. In the back of their minds, they would know she wasn’t coming home.

The few friends she had, unwilling to carry the burden of their grief, would almost certainly make an effort to forget her. Just to ease the pain. Her voice would be forgotten as old videos and voicemails were deleted. Her face would be next. And then, one by one, each of her friends would speak her name for the final time. 

Pomni whimpered, burying her face in the soft fabric of Ragatha’s arm. Her chest was tight, pressing harder, harder, harder against a hollow core. Each heaving breath sent shockwaves of pain throughout her shrinking, shivering, pitiful body. 

Time. She was running out. Running out of time. She had to find a way out. A way out. A way to get home. Home. Home. Home. Time. Running out. Get out. She had to get out. Get out get out get out GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT RIGHT NOW BEFORE EVERYTHING SHE’S WORKED FOR CRUMBLES TO DUST AND SHE’S DEAD AND FORGOTTEN AND AND AND AND AND AND—

Pomni choked back a scream as a dreadfully-familiar, searing pain stabbed the tips of her fingers. Blackened flesh creeped like cancer toward her palm, each heinous step piercing her skin like a thousand poison needles. 

“R-Ragatha!” Pomni gasped. Abstraction shackled her wrists as the tips of her fingers sank into the ragdoll’s downy flesh. One, three, five, ten twitching eyes sprouted beneath her gloves. “No…no, no, no! I’m going to—!” She couldn’t bear to say it. “I…I need to—”

Ragatha turned. “P-Pomni? What are you—”

“I’m sorry!” Pomni strangled the ragdoll’s wounded arm, squeezing the bulky limb hard enough to force clumps of cotton out of her own failed stitchwork. 

Her eyes squeezed shut. 

Her breathing slowed. 

Shaky breath in, shakier breath out. 

In and out. 

In, and…

The grandfather clock announced the hour with a half-dozen chimes. Pomni cracked open a single eye. Like magic, her mind was calm and clear.

Her weary gaze swept over Ragatha’s shredded arms, over her shoulder, her neck, her furrowed brow, her gnashing teeth, her wincing eyes.

“P-P-Pomni! I said let go!” Ragatha’s complaints finally fell on Pomni’s ears, “That hurts!”

Flinching, Pomni released the doll’s arm, “Ah! I’m sorry! I-I—”

“What’s gotten into you?! Is everything okay!?”

“Y-Yes! Everything’s just fine! I just, uh…” Pomni slumped over, still gasping for air. “Um…” she shrank beneath the shadow of Ragatha’s stern gaze, “...just needed a hug?”

Ragatha’s stony face didn’t crack. “You’re hiding something.”

“What?! No, I’m not!” 

“Don’t lie to me! What’s going on?! It looked like you were just about to—”

Margarethe hissed. “Alright, alright! That’s quite enough chatter!” She clonked Pomni’s head with her hefty book. “In case you forgot, I was in the middle of explaining—”

“HEY!” Pomni barked like a dog, rubbing the back of her head. “Who the #@$% do you think you are, you ancient &!$#% !?”

“Heel.” Margarethe’s razor teeth flashed a ravenous smile, “...If you know what’s good for you.”

Pomni growled — but wisely kept her big mouth shut. It helped that a small part of her was thankful for the excuse to drop the subject with Ragatha. 

Margarethe chuckled. Referring to her book once more, she flipped to a specific page and began chanting a hex under her breath. Before either Pomni or Ragatha could ask what was happening, a pair of blindingly-bright orbs had already emerged from both of their chests. The magical objects drifted toward MacGuffin’s outstretched hand. 

“Now. Let’s begin with the darling coquette. What are her nightmares made of?” Mararethe peered down at the two white spheres orbiting each other in her open palm. Studying one for a moment, she cocked her head with a sneer. “Hmph. Typical.”

Ragatha slouched, looking sullen. 

“Centipedes. It’s centipedes, right?” Pomni leaned on Ragatha’s chair. She had only just walked herself back from the verge of tears, but she had made a promise to protect Ragatha, and she intended to keep it. “Don’t worry — you’ve got me by your side, remember?” She spoke through a confident facade, “I-I’ll squash ‘em for you!” 

Ragatha covered her mouth like she was about to vomit. “Ugh, Please—” she shook her head, “D-Don’t make me think about their guts...” 

Margarethe flicked Ragatha’s orb back into the ragdoll’s chest, leaving only Pomni’s circling her palm. She cleared her throat. “As for the untrained whelp…” she was already laughing as she lifted her long-fingered hand to her face — but the moment she gazed into the orb, her smug affect faltered. 

The phantom’s cold, soulless eyes ping-ponged between Pomni and Ragatha. “Well.” Grinning, she flicked Pomni’s orb away, “Isn’t that sweet? I wouldn’t have taken you for the type, darling.”

Pomni jerked her head. “Huh? What type? What do you mean sweet?!”

Mararethe’s face simply radiated superiority. “I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t you?” She mocked, fanning herself. “Oh, shame on me! I haven’t been this worked up since the summer of nineteen-aught-five. This is going to be fun…”

Pomni’s knees locked together as the ghost faded away. “Wait! Where are you going?! What’s my fear?! What—”

“Best of luck!” The candles flickered to the rhythm of Margarethe’s cackling laugh. “You’ll need it…!”

With minimal fanfare, the door to the next room swung open all by itself, creaking horribly on its rusted hinges. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

Margarethe MacGuffin’s maniacal mansion was truly massive, and, within the last few hours, Pomni and Ragatha had been treated to a terrible tour of every last nightmarish nook and creepy cranny. Just as Caine had advertised, an assortment of ‘tricky traps’, ‘perplexing puzzles’ and ‘supernatural sentries’ had been set up for them to navigate, ranging in difficulty from ‘mind-numbingly easy’, to ‘psychologically traumatizing.’ 

Surprisingly, Pomni’s accounting skills had come in handy in the manor’s ‘money-counting room’. The horrifying puzzle, involving the petty minutiae of tax codes and estate settlements, was easy pickings for the seasoned number cruncher. Still, no one was perfect, and Pomni’s sole mistake — in which she’d forgotten the purpose of box 12D on form 5E-344-B  —  left her at the mercy of a swarm of greenbacks-turned-paper-cranes. 

In the music room, Ragatha would have taken the opportunity to show off her cello skills, but Pomni, concerned that Ragatha would worsen her injuries in the process, had flatly refused. A small back-and-forth had ensued — but in the end, both parties agreed to disagree once the instruments, magically stirred to life, started to viciously attack. Poor Pomni had never sprinted so quickly in her life. 

The place where Ragatha’s expertise did come in handy, however, was the stables. A pack of raging horse skeletons ran rampant, threatening to trample anyone foolish enough to stand in their way. Ragatha’s prior experience with equines, however, gave her all the tricks she needed to quickly soothe the wild herd. In retrospect, the room’s main obstacle wasn’t even calming the horses — it was reassuring a shivering Pomni after the jester had learned first-hand what a horse’s skull looked like. It wasn’t pretty.

In all of that time, not once had either of their so-called ‘greatest fears’ reared their ugly heads — or even so much as teased them. Every single task, no matter how asinine, was turned terrifying by the prospect of transforming into an unimaginable nightmare at any point in time.

The sheer anticipation was a torture all of its own — but the girls’ latest assignment, apparently designed to drive them straight to the precipice of insanity, was a close second place.

“Ohoho, don’t fret! It’s quite simple!” Margarethe had announced shortly after Pomni and Ragatha had arrived at the spacious ballroom. The phantom hadn’t even tried to hold back her laughter — she truly was having the time of her life. “The door to the next room is just a hop, skip and a jump away. All you have to do, honored guests, is locate the key.”

In a snap, Margarethe was gone, and Pomni and Ragatha had looked at each other with dread in their eyes. Nothing in MacGuffin Mansion was ever that simple. 

Every part of the ballroom was sculpted with painstaking precision. The moon peered in through a series of extravagant French windows; long, velvet drapes, slightly darker in color than Ragatha’s licorice locks, spanned the length of each one. The checkered marble that spanned the floor hosted a spattering of perfectly-set tables; a crystal glass and a set of unsoiled silverware framed each empty plate. 

A mountain of keys — brass, silver, and gold — sat upon each plate, sparkling in the moonlight. The drinking glasses beside them were similarly filled to the brim…with keys. Keys, keys, keys. Keys were floating in the flower vases, floating in the wine bottles, floating in the air.

Finding a key would be a cinch — finding the key, however, was a task tedious enough to make Sisyphus himself blush. 

And so, there Pomni was, kneeling in front of the locked door, sunken eyes looking like they hadn’t had a wink of sleep in years. The young woman glanced down with a harsh sigh — the marble floor wasn’t exactly the softest surface, and her knees were starting to hurt. A lot. 

Head drooping low, she half-heartedly held out her hand. “Next…”

Ragatha, slumped against the peeling floral wallpaper, perfectly matched Pomni’s energy. Without even bothering to look, she stuck her hand into one of the myriad piles of untested keys that surrounded the pair. A moment later, she plopped a plain-looking one into Pomni’s palm.

The jester ran her finger across the dented brass surface of what must have been the thousandth key to pass through her hands in under an hour. Her eye twitched. 

This was the one. Their ticket out of this god damned ballroom. It had to be. She had no rhyme or reason to explain why — she just knew.  

With a curt nod, Pomni crammed the key’s metal teeth into the lock and turned her hand clockwise. She leaned forward just a touch, listening desperately for a ‘click’ — but of course, just like the nine-hundred and ninety-nine attempts that came before, the stubborn door simply refused to accept her offering. 

So Pomni stared. And smiled. 

Slowly and silently, she stood, squirming grin blooming into a wide, razor-toothed smile. She turned to face the nearest pile of keys, filled her chest with a patient, hearty breath…

…and drove her foot into the metallic mound with all the force her skinny little legs could muster. 

“Pomni!” Ragatha shouted. Hundreds of keys clinked and clanked as they skated across the marble floor. “Really?!”

“This is it, isn’t it?! My greatest fear?!” Pomni shouted, “Isn’t it!?”

“Pomni!”

“Trapped with no way out, taunted by an exit just out of reach, forced to perform pointess, tedious tasks until I go insane?!” 

With every word that Pomni spoke, Ragatha’s furrowed brow disappeared to make room for a look of grave concern. “Hey! Are you listening to me?!”

“The same thing, over and over, never changing…” Clutching her head, Pomni let out a laugh, strained and dry, “As if I’m not already living that nightmare every single day!?”

“Pomni, stop it! You’re scaring me!” Ragatha finally raised her voice. Acting on instinct, she reached out to touch Pomni’s arm — but the doll’s fragile skin punished her with another gut-wrenching tear. Pain warped the doll’s face as she crumpled forward.

That brought Pomni’s breakdown to a screeching halt. “Ragatha!” snapping herself out of it, the jester immediately scrambled to Ragatha’s side, eyes pleading forgiveness. “I-I’m sorry! I was just… I didn’t mean to—” she clenched her fists, grunting in frustration, “Are you okay!?”

“Are you?!” Ragatha snatched Pomni’s shoulders. Her face was brutally stern. “You are freaking. Me. Out! Tell me what’s going on! Right now!”

Pomni swallowed. She tried to answer — she really, truly tried, yet no words came to her blanking mind.

Ragatha frowned. “Y-You’re doing it. You’re acting just like the others. Just like him.” 

“H-Him…?” 

“Tell me the truth. Back in the dining room, when you were squeezing my arm, did you...” Ragatha’s voice wavered, “Were you…?”

Pomni’s pupils were the size of pins. Buried memories — of her bedroom, of the forest, of the mansion’s dining room — swarmed like locusts through her mind. She could practically feel the blood freezing over in her veins again, feel the despair grabbing hold, feel her whole body rebelling against her, transforming against her will into a mindless, violent beast. 

“...abstracting?” Pomni tore away, arms coiled tightly around herself. Her strong voice was stuffy and rigid, “I-Is that what you’re too scared to say?”

Ragatha’s eyes softened in an instant. “Oh, no. No, no, no! I didn’t mean to—” she winced, holding her arms out as far as they would go. She was this close to tearing open another wound. “Just…come here.”

“Wh…What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Ragatha said, “Come on. Let me hold you...”

Pomni looked the other way, still hugging herself. She tried her best to look disgusted, to pretend to be angry, to act indifferent. “P-Put your arms down. You’ll hurt yourself…!”

“I don’t care.” Ragatha’s wavering smile held true, bending just slightly under the weight of her pain. “It hurts so much more to watch you cry, Pomni.”

“I’m not crying!” Pomni’s voice cracked, widening gaze sweeping across Ragatha’s arms. Her trembling arms weren’t helping her case. “I’m just…”

“...Just what, Sunshine?”

Sunshine. Pomni’s eyes were wet. She blinked away the unwanted sensation, shaking her head all the while — but it was no use. Ragatha really was the nicest person she’d ever met. “...R-Ragatha?” 

“Yes…?”

“Why do you keep calling me that…?”

“Calling you what?”

“Sunshine…” Pomni’s lip quivered. She tried with all of her might to quell the storm, but there was little she could do now. A pair of shimmering streams traced the length of her face, and at long last, she cracked, collapsing into Ragatha’s open embrace. 

“Oh, dear…” Ragatha wrapped Pomni up as tight as she could, squeezing the little jester like she would never, ever let go. Even she was trembling now. “Do you like that name?” 

Pomni nodded. 

She felt a lot of feelings. But most of all, she felt loved. So very, very loved. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

The ballroom had nary a clock to announce the hour, and the eternal night gleaming through the windows wasn’t much help in telling the time, either. Pomni had no idea how long she’d been venting — just talking, talking, talking through the tears, explaining everything that had happened over the past few days. 

“...and it’s happened three times now.” Pomni spoke softly, at last lifting her head from Ragatha’s chest. However much time had passed, it was enough for her eyes, shocked by the sudden influx of light, to immediately recoil.

She rubbed her eyes, easing them back into the light. “...it just happens. Like a nightmare. My mind starts racing — thinking the same obsessive thoughts, over and over, until the thoughts take control. And I…” Pomni winced, shaking her head. “...w-won’t say anything else.”

Ragatha hummed. She listened quietly, finger tracing winding lines around Pomni’s back. 

“...But every time, I’ve managed to stop it.” Pomni said. She cringed a little at her own words. “Well, I guess that’s obvious...”

“Obvious or not…” Ragatha’s voice was calm and clear, “I’m glad.”

“Glad…?”

“Glad you’re still here.”

“O-Oh!” Pomni perked right up. Almost hypnotized, she stared into those beautiful, mismatched eyes. “Um, th-thanks. Me too...” 

Ragatha giggled. “Sorry to interrupt.” she said adoringly, lightly stroking Pomni’s backside. “You were saying?”

Pomni felt light, absentmindedly curling a lock of red yarn hair around her finger. Never before had she felt so heard, felt what it was like to have someone hanging onto her every word. It felt good.  

“I don't know, Ragatha. When I start to abstract, it’s not easy to bring myself back from the brink, but…” she breathed, “...it’s kind of like what you were saying before.”

“Oh?”

“I try to think of a silver lining. Something that makes me feel safe. Something…”

Ragatha’s thumb shooed away the final, thin teardrop drying on Pomni’s cheek. The ragdoll’s hand felt just like a cloud — softer than anything the jester had ever felt before. “Something…” Ragatha mused, finishing the jester’s thought, “...that makes life worth living?” 

“Yeah…” Pomni welcomed a cautious smile, “Something like that.”  

“Ah-ha!”

Pomni flinched. “H-Huh?!” 

“There she is!” Ragatha snatched the jester’s cheesing cheek and gave it a little wiggle. “There’s my funny girl!” 

Pomni tried her hardest to squirm out of Ragatha’s embrace — but the redhead had her decisively pinned. “Ow! S-Stop it!” she protested — but her sunny laughter only encouraged further torment, “That hurts, you jerk!” 

At last, Ragatha relented. “Sorry, Sunshine. Couldn’t resist.”

Pomni’s first instinct was to do the same thing back — to even the score, so Ragatha could see how it felt — but the woman’s words left her melting, all the way down to her soul.

Sunshine. 

She was putty in the ragdoll’s hands. What in the world was happening? What was this fluttery feeling? Why did her face feel hot enough to burn her fingerprints clean off?

“R-Right! In any case!” Pomni pushed herself off, lest she faint a second time. She could hardly believe how quickly her heart was thumping .“Th-thanks for listening and everything, but…” she glanced around in a panic, “...We should probably get back to it, huh?” 

Ragatha didn’t react right away. “...You’re sure?” She surveyed the endless piles of keys that surrounded them — many of which were now scattered about the floor thanks to Pomni’s most recent tantrum. 

“Of course I’m sure! Wh-Why wouldn’t I be?

“Well, it’s awfully sudden. I don’t mind talking a bit more if you need to! Really — I’d watch paint dry as long as you were next to me. Um! Not to say that listening to you is boring…!”

“It’s fine!” Pomni giggled. “Honest.”

“You’re feeling better?”

Pomni nodded.

“You’re sure?” Ragatha squinted. 

“Yes! I’m sure! We can’t keep stopping like this, Ragatha. We’ve got to get you back to Caine, remember?” 

“I…suppose we can get moving again, if that’s what you want.” Ragatha sighed. She glanced sadly at her freshly-vacant arms. “Just do me a favor, won’t you?”

“Yeah?”

“If we get stuck, try to keep your lid on — for me?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry about that…” Pomni turned, scratching her head. The very moment she caught a glimpse of the piled-up keys, however, her face scrunched up. “This just — this sucks! How did the other members figure this out?!”

“Pomni.” Ragatha groaned. “Breathe.”

“Right. My bad…”

Despite herself, Ragatha still managed to look amused. “Think of it this way, Sweetheart. If the rest of those goofballs can figure this out, then so can we. We just need to put our heads together — think outside of the box.” 

“Outside of the box…” Pomni stepped across the checkered floor, scratching her chin. “Like…maybe what we’re looking for isn’t a literal key?” 

She scanned the ballroom through her pouting gaze. A series of large chandeliers, far grander than the tacky setpiece in her own bedroom, supervised the spacious room from above. On the northern wall was a small stage, complete with chairs, instruments, and music stands for performing musicians. A piano, paired with a small chest, sat at the far end. 

The jester’s mood soured, and not just because of her recent run-in with haunted musical instruments. Keys, keys, keys — what did any of this stuff have to do with keys!? Ragatha desperately needed help, but here she was, stuck in the world’s most contrived escape room. Ugh! Did people in the real world really do this kind of thing for fun? This stupid puzzle—

Suddenly, Pomni perked up. She eyed the piano. 

Piano. Keys. 

Piano! Keys! Of course!

“Ragatha!” Pomni raced to where the other woman was sitting, frantically waving her arms in the air. “Hey, hey!”

“Hm? Did you figure something out?” 

Pomni nodded, smiling broadly. She scooped the ragdoll into her arms, hopped atop the stage, and set her down in one of the chairs arranged neatly across it. All told, she only knocked over three music stands, two metronomes, and one priceless clarinet in the process. 

Pomni turned Ragatha’s chair so that it faced the piano. “Watch this!” she chirped, dashing across the stage. Her fingers pressed down on the piano’s lowest white note, and then the lowest black; the hammered strings within the instrument sang a long, colorful scale as Pomni dragged her digits across all eighty-eight keys. 

Hands clasped in hope, she spun around to check the door — but her face fell when, despite her genius plan, the door remained firmly in place. 

“What? But—” Pomni’s fingers pecked a low Do, a high Re, and the middlemost Mi. “They’re keys! Pianos have keys!” She laid her hands flat on the ivory, and the piano unleashed a dissonant, un-musical scream. “Are you kidding me? How is that not the solution?!”

“No, you’re right!” Ragatha clapped her hands together, “Good thinking, Pomni! You’re definitely onto something!” 

“I…am?” Pomni blushed, “But I already pressed every single key — every one! And that stupid plank of wood still won’t open!”

“Maybe it’s not about pressing one specific key.” Ragatha scratched her chin, “Maybe it’s a special combination. Notes can have letter names —  A, B, C, et cetera — so perhaps they want us to spell a certain word?”

“Ooh! A keyword! That’s good!” Pomni snapped her fingers. She didn’t hesitate to start sniffing out clues for such a solution — and it didn’t take long for the old chest beside the piano to catch her eye. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the lock — but, thankfully, it was only for show. Breathing a sigh of relief, Pomni opened the lid. The antique chest was filled to the brim with a series of long, frayed, dust-coated cardboard boxes. 

Curiosity piqued, Pomni opened one and cautiously unfurled the bulky scroll stored inside. A series of small, perfectly-cut holes stretched across the yellowed paper. Some existed in isolation, while others were grouped together into long lines — as if a leaf-munching insect had eaten its way through the fragile material.

Pomni’s tonge prodded the inside of her cheek. “Ragatha? You said you played the…” her gaze flicked aside, “...violin, right?”

“Violoncello.” Ragatha deadpanned. “Why?”

“Well, I was just wondering — since you’re a musician, do you have any clue what these weird rolls of paper are for? They seem related to the piano somehow, but…”

“I’m so glad you asked!” Ragatha gasped, clasping her hands together. “Those funky bundles of paper are called piano rolls!”

The redhead had responded to Pomni’s question in plain English, but the baffled look on the jester’s face suggested otherwise.  

Ragatha clarified. “Back in the day, these were used to play piano tunes without the need for a human performer. Each one plays a different song when loaded into a player piano.”

“Player piano…?”

“Oh, right. Sorry! That’s a special type of piano that plays itself. I’m not quite sure how it works either. But back to the topic at hand — see those little holes cut into the paper? Each one represents one music note. As the roll slowly unfurls, a sensor reads them and tells the machine which keys to strike.”

“Ohh…” Pomni ran her fingers across the parade of perforations that spanned the scroll. Slowly, she nodded. “...So it’s like a music box?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Ragatha beamed. The look on her face as she watched the concept click in Pomni’s head was a painting of pure joy; was it any wonder that she had worked as a teacher prior to her captivity? 

Pomni sighed. She planted an elbow on the old chest and cradled her cheek against her palm. “Your students must have loved you...” 

“Well, I did receive my fair share of apples.” Ragatha shrugged. “Never had to pack a lunch.”

“Wait, seriously…? That’s a real thing?”

“No. Not really.”

A silly smile teased its way onto Pomni’s lips. Heart stumbling, she turned away, fingers unconsciously fiddling with the old chest’s loosened lock. “S-So, um, is there anything else you can tell me…?” 

“Nah — telling is overrated. In my classroom, I always liked to take a hands-on approach.” Ragatha said. She admired the antique instrument seated on the far end of the stage. “There’s a player piano right there. Why don’t you give it a whirl? It’s been a while since I’ve listened to music.”

“S-Sure thing! I’ll find a good one!” Pomni said, eager to please. Just about tearing the lid off of the antique chest, she rifled through its tightly-packed contents with purpose, scrutinizing the faded titles printed on each box. She didn’t recognize a single song, much less any of their long-dead composers, so it was anyone's guess as to what the music would actually sound like. She may as well have just swiped a roll at random — and, as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what she did. 

Pomni set the bulky scroll inside the automatic piano after a bit of clumsy fumbling — and more than a little help from Ragatha. With the flip of a switch, the paper started spinning, and the premier notes of a lofty, leisurely tune stirred to life beneath the ballroom’s vaulted ceiling. 

Pomni’s fingers drew circles on the mechanical piano’s smooth, wood grain exterior. For a moment, she forgot where she was, utterly fascinated by the simple elegance of the century-old contraption. 

It was funny. The long-forgotten piece it played, humbly subtitled ‘a ragtime two-step’, had set her up to expect something more peppy and up-tempo. As the piano roll steadily unfurled, however, the melodic constellations impressed upon the paper sang a far different tune. 

It was the type of jaunty music one would expect to accompany a silent film, just…polished. Refined. All of the musical tropes of the era were present — the driving bassline, the active, syncopated melody — but the piece’s dignified pace and finely-crafted harmonies would have sounded out of place in a rowdy, turn-of-the-century saloon. 

Here in the ballroom, though, it was right at home — at least, that’s what the haunted furniture seemed to think. 

Looking impressed, Pomni tapped her foot, wholly oblivious to the perplexing scene unfolding behind her. “Not bad...” She grinned, turning to face Ragatha, “To tell you the truth, I actually kind of ohmygodwhat’sgoingon—”

Pomni stumbled backwards, then forwards, then backwards again into Ragatha’s chair. The ballroom’s inanimate denizens — the one-hundred-odd tables and chairs scattered across its marble floor —  moved all on their own, dancing in time with the mellow melody. A backing band of squeaking wood and clinking keys added a percussive flair to the player piano’s charming, just-slightly-detuned sound. 

Ragatha, for her part, was busy cracking up at Pomni’s complete and utter bewilderment. With a quick breath, she managed to compose herself. “Well, when in Rome…” The ghost of a giggle still lingered in her tone as she offered up her hand, “Shall we?”

Pomni let out a mousy squeak. “Huh?” She flinched, head feeling light, dots flitting across her vision, “But—”

“Come on. Don’t make me beg.” Ragatha batted her eyes, “It’s unladylike.”

Pomni blushed. Without a word, she swallowed, shuddering like a frightened animal as she reached for Ragatha’s hand.

Her fingers curled snugly around the ragdoll’s, plush and doughy. Both women’s palms — one big, one small — fit together perfectly.

Pomni slid her other arm behind Ragatha’s back, powerless to stop the nervous little whimpers sneaking out of her as she lifted up the lightweight woman. For a moment, their faces were close enough to feel each other’s warmth — and it took every ounce of restraint Pomni had to resist asking: ‘Can I please kiss you?’.

With a brief, peppy fanfare, the music transitioned to a new section; the enchanted furniture, as if controlled by a single mind, adapted its routine in perfect sync. 

“I, um…” Pomni’s knees trembled. This stupid furniture was making her look bad. “I don’t really know how to dance…” She winced at the thought, and then at the sight of Ragatha’s grave injuries, “And even if I did, how are we supposed to—”

“Shh.” Ragatha’s thumb glided across the back of Pomni’s hand. “Just…hold me.”

Pomni exhaled. 

Holding her dolly close, the jester closed her eyes, synchronizing her trembling breaths with every other downbeat. Her foot matched the two-step’s gentle pulse, and before she knew it, her whole body was swaying to the rhythm.

Ragatha nestled her head against Pomni’s chest; a blissful sigh escaped her shuddering smile. The tension in her body dissipated note-by-note, phrase-by-phrase, as her darling rocked her back and forth, here and there, to and fro. 

Back and forth they went. Pomni held her plain little ragdolly as tight as she could, finger tracing zig-zags across the curves of her fleece-soft figure. She adored the sound of her peaceful breathing, the way her hands cradled each other as she lay in her arms, all of her happy little fidgets as her body responded to the music. 

Here and there they swayed. Pomni’s desperate eyes wandered to Ragatha’s lips, plush and glossy. Her heart was glowing, but just beyond, a profound emptiness, like nothing she had ever felt before, opened up within her. It begged to be filled, and pained her to resist.

Swing, swing. To and fro. Ragatha was weightless in her arms. The whole wide world, and everything in it, was wonderful. Just wonderful. 

“Ragatha…?”

“Hm.” It took Ragatha a moment to respond. She jostled herself as if she’d just been woken from a deep, restful slumber. “What is it, Sunshine?” She said, keeping her eyes closed. 

Pomni swallowed a shuddering breath. “Do you remember the day before yesterday? When we were trying to film the new intro?”

“That was quite a day.” Ragatha cracked a smile. She nestled herself closer, basking in the rhythm of each gentle sway.  “I didn’t know you could scream so loud. Zooble, either.”

“Yeah…” Pomni tittered. “When you were showing me the way to my room, I remember feeling so exhausted, so frustrated. I didn’t understand why all of this was happening to me. What I did wrong to end up trapped here. I was taking it out on everyone, including you. But…”

“But…?”

“But you were still kind to me.”

Ragatha giggled. “Oh, come on. Don’t give me too much credit. You might hate to hear this, but you’re awfully cute when you get all worked up. If I’m being honest, the hardest part was not eating you up.”

“Cute...” Pomni felt butterflies. Her rocking slowed down, falling out of sync with the beat of the music. “That’s what you said about my hat hair. Remember?”

“I do! And I stand by it.”

The social contract of conversation required Pomni to respond with a laugh, or a ‘that’s funny’, or even a small, near-imperceptible exhale of breath — but instead, she simply stood there, thinking, utterly silent. And when she did get around to opening her mouth at last, her voice took on a noticeably different tone. 

“R-Ragatha…?” 

“Yes?” Ragatha’s mouth curled slightly — and not in the good direction. “Is everything alright? You sound like you have a frog in your throat.”

“Do you—” Pomni swallowed, “D-Do you remember what we talked about before? About…” she took in a shaky breath, “...something to live for…?”

Ragatha’s eyes flashed open with a jolt. The doll palmed the wet spot on her cheek, and flinched again when another droplet pelted her face. “P-Pomni! Are you—” she stammered, “Why are you crying?!”

“Because…!” Pomni’s face crinkled up, “B-Because, if you hadn’t said that…” she gulped down a long, shaky breath, “...if you had listened to me that day, if you had just left alone like I said…”

“Pomni…?”

The young woman’s tear-studded chin curled inward, coming to rest against her heaving chest. “... If it wasn’t for you, Ragatha, I don’t know if I would still be here…”

The old piano roll reached its end with no pomp or circumstance; the haunted furniture took a final bow, shuffling back to their places as the two-steps’s final chord faded away. 

A century of stillness stretched between the jester and the ragdoll. 

Ragatha pressed her hand to her lips. Pomni couldn’t blame her for her silence. What could Ragatha possibly say? Pomni didn’t know, and, given Ragatha’s flat, stunned gaze, it seemed the ragdoll was equally lost. 

“R-Ragatha…? I don’t know how else to say this…” Pomni’s whole body felt twice as heavy. Her body was a paradox, sweltering beneath overwhelming heat and flinching away from wisps of unbearable cold. “I think I, u-um—” 

Enough was enough. At long last, the two hearts spoke as one, crackling voices intertwined in an impromptu duet. 

“I’m sorry, but…!” the jester squeaked.

“That’s it!” the ragdoll gasped, “I can’t take this anymore — I’m just going to say it!” 

Together, they forced out the exact same words: “Can I please just kiss you?!”

…And time slowed to a crawl. 

Each woman was the other’s reflection, looking back from the other side of the proverbial water. Ragatha stared, at a loss for words, gawking mouth twisting into a little half-smile. Pomni stared back, eyes aglow, wearing the world’s dumbest grin without a care in the world. 

Smiles became snorts, snorts turned into giggles, and giggles bloomed into fits of gut-busting laughter. Pomni’s tears flowed still, but their wet, winding trails framed a face brightened by hope. “Did that just happen?!”

Ragatha giggled, pawing at her face. If she felt any pain — and she certainly did — it didn’t show. “Well?” she remarked at last, “I’m waiting.”

“Um…!” Pomni frantically nodded. “Right! O-Of course!” A bead of sweat traveled down her brow as relief gave way to worry.

She hadn’t the slightest idea of what she was doing. 

Pomni’s stance bent backward at a curious angle. Ignoring the added strain on her back, she swallowed, tilted her face closer to Ragatha’s, and then…locked up. For what felt like an eternity, she just stood there, knees chattering, staring into Ragatha’s eyes with a vacant, absolutely petrified expression.

“...Uh, Pomni?” Ragatha blinked. The moment was ruined. It was horribly, terribly, soul-crushingly awkward. “What are you doing?”

“K-Kissing you! Obviously!” Pomni shifted around, forcing a shuddering smile. “I’m just, um, y-you see—” 

“Is this how you usually do it?”

“Um, no. Not really…!” a beet-red Pomni shook her head, “To tell you the truth, I’ve never really, um…” her voice shriveled further with every word, “...I’ve haven’t exactly done this before…”

“Pomni!”

“Wh-What?! Is that bad?!”

“Goodness gracious. What am I going to do with you?” Ragatha playfully rolled her eyes. “Well, you already lifted me up. That’s a…start? I suppose? Look, just tilt your head for me.”

“Oh! Sure!” Pomni did — with gusto. “Is this good?”

“No! Not that much!”

Pomni let out a soft little whine. “O-Okay! Sorry!” 

“There. That’s better.” Ragatha’s yearning gaze closed the distance, “Next, close your eyes...”

“Like this?”

“Well, yes — there’s only one way to do it.” 

“Oh! Right…”

“God, you’re cute...” Ragatha filled her chest with a long, savoring breath, “...Now hurry up and kiss me.”

Pomni’s pounding heart was due to give out any second now. This couldn’t be real. Was this really happening? What had she gotten herself into!?

Slowly but surely, she moved her lips closer, closer, closer, until she could feel the warmth of Ragatha’s hushed breaths on her face. Her stomach twisted into a tighter knot with every burst of humid heat — but she’d come too far to quit now.

Carefully, very carefully, she—

“Ugh! Fine, then — I’ll do it!” Huffing just like a princess, Ragatha seized Pomni’s tunic, pulled her in, and pressed her lips against hers. She shuddered, squealing with joy as their souls linked at last. 

Pomni’s eyes were wide, her belly flat, her face a bluish hue as every last gasp of air was suddenly forced out of her chest. Sharply, she breathed in again, and a familiar scent stirred her heart like a siren song:

Strawberries and soil and fresh-fallen rain.

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

#pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #ragapom #buttonblossom #jesterdoll #pomnitha #the amazing digital circus #tadc fanfiction #tadc sunshine #pomni #lesbian #tdac pomni #tadc fic

[witchofthesouls]

IDW/MTMTE fic idea,

A cultural exchange is proposed in the Council of Worlds to show a little bit of each other in good faith:

Cancer shows its deep militaristic culture in its oldest tradition: a dance competition. A no-contact sport where partners' tests constantly test each other’s skills: flexibility, speed, reaction time, strength, and coordination. A violent, vicious whirling to the rhythm that's both entertainment and discipline.

No one was surprised by Velocitronians setting up a race track in the city, but this particular style emphasizes acrobatics, flair, and efficiency as speedsters parkour through the infrastructure. This kind of race allows teams who will be judged on collaboration and creativity as many utilize immense drops to act out iconic or playful scenes. One pair had a full gamestation set up in freefall.

The Devisen showed off their food culture, which is dominated by molecular gastronomy. They enjoy playing with properties and compositions of ingredients. Thermal sense is a very popular technique among the locals.

The Eukarian tribes had settled with an art exhibition. The Scale Walkers shown off pottery with fascinating grooves and whorls with patterns of their planet. The Fur Walkers had submitted bone carvings ranging from delicate jewelry of native fauna to intricate designs recreating battles. Guests were able to interact with Cloud Walker furniture: elaborate hanging seats embedded with different textures, designs, and compartments. The Fateweavers sent beautifully woven, silky smooth fabric, each one with its own specific geometric design. The Wave Walkers' exhibit was done in a dark room where visitors watched a reconstruction of how marine life reacts to their sonata. Twinkling jellies, haunting kelp forests, the wild explosion of color from massive reefs, dancing phantomish creatures, and synchronized schools of fish.

Earth demonstrated a surrealistic fashion show based on Marissa Faireborn's observations on what Cybertronians focused on.

The Camiens had invited everyone to come enjoy a sacred rite that embraced all aspects of Solus: a widespread, drug-enhanced sex festival and revel at a monstrous bon fire.

#transformers #transformers idw #idw #mtmte #titans #cybertronian culture #carcer #eukaris #caminus #velocitron #devisiun #tf headcanons #maccadam #fic ideas #my writing #i just really want to go ham on all the Lost Colonies' differences #im back on the fertility rites and sex cults

[kotes-mcgotes]

This is a little bit different than the kind of content I’ve been putting out, but as someone who is very invested in Pokémon design, I have a lot of opinions.

First off, I believe the sentiment behind this picture is that old fighting types are good and new fighting types are bad. So going off of that, I have to say I disagree. The Gen 1 fighting-types all fall under the umbrella of “martial artists” in some way, shape, or form. However, there are some traits from the Gen 1 fighting types that carry over to the newer, “bad”, fighting types.

First is aggression, exemplified perfectly by Primeape. Most of the new gen fighting types pictured are designed around the fact that they are aggressive. Past paradox Pokémon like Slither Wing and Great Tusk are known to be dangerous and their aggressive behavior is THE REASON we have to shut down the Time Machine in Area Zero. Paldean Tauros is pretty self explanatory especially if you have had to deal with them charging you in the overworld. Even many fighting type specialists portray aggression in their facial expressions and posing.

Another trait that fighting types embody is physical strength and athleticism. Machamp embodies this, as well as other fighting types like Buzzwole and Passimian. Even Meloetta’s pirouette forme and Hisuian Liligant gain the fighting type even though their inspiration comes from dance!

Finally, we have the oddballs like Flamigo and Keldeo. Understanding their inspiration and lore will explain the typing for you! Flamigo, for example, live in flocks that synchronize their fighting moves to attack other Pokémon in the wild. A large part of their lore is the way they fight so fighting type makes sense. Keldeo, along with the other swords of Justice, are based off of the Three Musketeers with Keldeo representing the young fourth member, D’Artagnan. Much like Zacian and Sirfetch’d, the fighting type is derived from the Pokémon’s association with a weapon and it’s status as a type of defender.

So while I understand that current fighting types don’t always fit the “humanoid punching guy” archetype, it doesn’t have to. Also, Breloom is a fighting type but I don’t see anyone raising any eyebrows at that thing.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet #fighting type #zacian #hitmonchan #hitmonlee #machamp #primeape #poliwrath #great tusk #flamigo #keldeo #passimian #slither wing #tauros #liligant #meloetta #buzzwole #Sirfetch’d

[onboardsorasora]

well this spiraled indeed....

when I first saw this I went 'how the fuck have I made 37k posts in a year????'

then I thought 'oh lovely, there's some synchroneity with the 7007 and 707 ' and my fave number is 7 so there was some extra serotonin there too.

and then I went '....wait 707 people follow this blog??????'

and like... I know some (or a lot) are bots, specifically porn bots because when I joined with this account they were rampant, and i got bored of trying to block and delete every single one.

but the fact that 707 different blogs for whatever reason clicked follow on this blog is wild and amazing to me. and I interact with so many of you regularly and we're a family over here. a community and you guys have made this fandom feel like a community for me, a family.

honestly, I was having a pretty meh day, got some bummy news. but this just made me so happy. in the 'im going to curl up in a corner and drown in my own tears way'

anyway, you can all ignore this lol. just journalling a lil bit lol

#truly i was just trying to get into a fandom and read some fic when I started this page. i had every intention of only being a lurker lmao #special post #my post #long post #lol #sora irl

[caw4brandon]

- Caw4B's : ANIS AND THE SERPENTS -

Anis Rusli makes another snakey return with a mild change in her design. Anis Rusli (Pronounced as: A-knee-s Rue's-lee) is a character based on a local Malaysian Legend.

Legends among village folk and fishermen in some parts of the Malaysian Peninsula tell tales of a mysterious phenomenon that they witnessed and survived to tell the tale. A creature that is suggested to be larger than the boats due to the amounts of bubbles it produces from beneath the murky waters.

The Sulur Bidar (Su-lur Bi-da-r) is a Man-eating carpet monster who is said to look like a normal carpet/Tikar (a type of woven mat) with snake heads for tendrils on each corner. In some illustrations, they are described to have a beautiful woman's head as a lure.

If you ever get curious and get too close. The Sulur Bidar will release a foul odor. Described to have a disgustingly old chicken eggs smell. The creature will then unleash its snake heads and drown its victims like a burrito to be consumed.

The legends say, the Sulur Bidar is a type of Jin/demon that likes to disturb/eat mortals. However, modern explorations believe that its a scientific phenomenon called, Oil and Gas. Which releases a lethal gas known as Hydrogen Sulphide.

- Meet ANIS RUSLI -

Anis Rusli is the human torso part of this body. A beautiful and rather young-looking girl who dwells on both the surface but mostly living in the wild by the local rivers. By appearance, she is about twenty-one-years-old or so but her actual age is centuries older.

In public, Anis is elusive. Often attempting to avoid contact. She is seen covering up from face to bottom in layers of clothes to avoid suspicion. However, once you get to know her. Anis is actually a cheery girl who is both kind-hearted and fiercely protective. Her serpent sisters are named as the following;

Tepi The Left - The Dominant and aggressive striker.

Depan The Bottom - The Mobility, muscle and biggest eater.

Belakang The Right - The Assistant and silly little jokester.

As a unit, They function in perfect synchronicity. Anis plans and leads her team. Depan moves defensively as the limb to avoid blind spots. Lastly, Tepi and Belakang strike opponents in turns.

- Anis Fun Facts -

The name; Anis is of Arabic origin. Meaning; genial or close friend.

Anis's voice is described as "sweet and soothing; may put you to sleep."

Anis's hair color is described as; Raspberry. A rather maroon-ish red with hints of purple in the mix.

Anis is a natural Bilingual. She is fluent in, Malay and English. She knows a little bit of Mandarin and Cantonese through Chinese and Hong Kong Dramas.

Anis and her sisters share a secret language. Some would even say its technically Parseltongue but Anis replies in Malay (Which is her native language)

The names of the Serpents is a reference to local icebreaker game known as [Tepi, Depan, Belakang] Translation; Side, Front, Back.

Contrary to her actual species, Anis hates eating humans and considers them as "junk food" She eats normal human food.

Anis's sisters however, eats regular snake food such as rats, bird eggs or other small mammals.

In MTCR, Anis is nicknamed as Guardian of the Emerald Forest and the Serpent Witch of Kingshaven.

Anis is inspired by three core characters; Sucy Manbavaran, Misato Katsuragi and Olivia "Liv" Octavius.

#murder the crow reforged #murder the crow #kingshaven #kingshavenacademy #anis rusli #sulur bidar #anis the sulur bidar #serpents #tepi depan belakang #Malaysia #mythology #cryptid #southeast asia #monsters #sucy manbavaran #misato katsuragi #olivia octavius #little witch academia #neon genesis evangelion #spiderman into the spiderverse

[fourmula1]

....do you maybe have some thoughts about Yuki and Michael that you would like to share with the class? 😇

x

There was nothing unusual about the physicality of a driver and his trainer together. Trainers had to know their driver's bodies intimately; their flexibility, their injuries, their tender spots, their aches and pains.

They had to know drivers' food and water and vitamin intakes, calories burned, reaction times, mental stresses, how far to push, and when to back off.

Learning Yuki had been a fiery burst right from the start.

Yuki wasn't afraid to speak his mind, to be colourful with his language, and to make it known just how much he absolutely hated every single second of training. He did it all, anyway.

Michael had had to learn a totally new style and approach working with Yuki this year. Daniel was not docile by any means, but Daniel rather enjoyed the training parts of his job and Michael never had to worry about his discipline or if Daniel kept up his routines when they were apart. Yuki was his own, explosive little powerhouse who Michael came to understand may need a little more tenderness than he'd ever let on.

It had been obvious to everyone in the last couple years just how close Yuki had been with his teammate and the upset of Pierre moving to Alpine had been just as evident. Yuki wasn't quiet about his feelings, about Pierre moving, about missing him.

Formula 1 could be a ruthless, brutal sport and many drivers felt alone. Yuki and Pierre's closeness had been special and Michael knew - even if they were still friends - it wasn't the same as having Pierre as Yuki's teammate.

So.

Tenderness.

Michael had done his best to be a friend when Yuki needed it. To be open, to hear him, to let him process the big change for this year. To vent about the loss of that team synchronicity, how Nyck was perfectly nice and polite but not friendly, the loss of Noel, all the change and difference 2023 brought had not been easy for him.

But somewhere.

Somehow.

Sometimes.

Michael found himself with Yuki tucked up under his arm when standing around in the garages or hospitality. Or thighs pressed together side-by-side at breakfast when there was a perfectly good, open seat across the table. Or sweet brown puppy-dog eyes staring up at him when Michael helped Yuki stretch his hamstrings.

He was a burst of intense, at times unpredictable emotion and energy; acting out in his hurt and loss and uncertainty, a wild storm thrashing about.

Michael was tender hands and soft words and gentle calm; a safe harbour to anchor when everything felt a bit too much.

#so this is a thing now i guess #michael italiano #yuki tsunoda #what do i name them tho #italianoda #LOL maybe not #YUKITALIANO #maybe!!! #actually i like that maybe that one

[teecupangel]

Thoughts ond the new web comic for ac black flag?

Someone in the Kenway bloodline is a whore and I hope the plot twist is it isn’t Edward but Haytham. XD

Okay, so in all seriousness, Edward Kenway is like the 2nd poster boy of Assassin’s Creed and it shows. Before this webtoon, there was also a manga called Assassin’s Creed Black Flag: Kakusei (usually translated as ‘Awakening’) and it is considered as noncanon (where the descendant is a half-Japanese student that's Edward's descendant from his mother's side) while the webtoon seemed to be considered to be canon.

So for the webtoon, I have dipped my feet in the high seas and all I could find was the Indonesian version for the 1st chapter so I can’t be sure of what’s happening but the main character is a descendant of Edward Kenway and this is set after Black Flag.

Which is a bit weird as the ending of Black Flag made it clear that Edward was returning to England with Jenny but it’s highly possible that Edward is in that time period where he’s looking for Isu related artifacts and temples for the Brotherhood (which included the temple in Alamut).

I always assumed that Edward had that adventure after Haytham was born as noted in AC wiki though but, because this webtoon is supposed to be canon and set after Black Flag, it's highly possible it must have taken the genetic memory of Edward Kenway from the main character and one of the plot points is that Edward would have a love interest in this one and the main character is a descendant of Edward and that love interest.

Because if they were using Desmond Miles' genetic memory, the Edward Kenway portions of the webtoon must happen between late 1722 - early 1725 (at most 8~10 months before December). In other words, before Haytham is conceived.

If they were using the main character's genes though, it's free game 'cause I won't be surprised if Edward cheated on someone like Tessa Kenway. (cheating is bad though so please don't)

Now, one could argue, “maybe they’re using Edward’s remains like what Layla did?” and yes, that’s a possibility. Just because the main character is a descendant does not mean Abstergo is using his actual genetic memory to access Edward’s memories. For all we know, he’s being used to get a high synchronization rating using the DNA from Edward's remains.

So I guess we’ll just have to see where this goes.

But the most important thing:

The fuck is this? Is that supposed to be Altaïr and Ezio???

Are you guys telling us he’s also the descendant of Altaïr and Ezio?! Because I call bullshit on that. This would mean that this dude would have had to have a similar genetic makeup to Desmond unless you’re going to say “oh, the Altaïr genes came from Darim not Sef, don’t worry”. One of the main points in AC is that Desmond is the only known descendant of Auditore AND Ibn-La'Ahad blood (until Elijah). If the main character has the same bloodline as Desmond, then dear god, Minerva’s gonna grab this innocent bystander and drag him to the Grand Temple to be sacrificed instead of Desmond.

Or is this another case of “we thought that Ezio was Altaïr’s descendant, oops!” that I’ve seen in two different official Japanese AC booklet???

Although...

So wild wild theory...

Absolutely not gonna happen...

The age of the main character is a bit of a mystery but if this is set in 2023 and he's around mid teens to at most 19, he could be another one of Desmond's kids. 20 is pushing it and anything beyond that though would be, uuuhhh, possible but you don't wanna think about that.

#i swear if this dude has the same ancestors as desmond down to sef and ratonhnhaké:ton #i mean i’m not gonna riot #but fuck you ubisoft #i’m sorry i got ‘passionate’ at the end #this is what happens when your chosen one’s chosen one status is wack af #ask and answer #assassin's creed #i guess i can tag #edward kenway #and since i rant about him #desmond miles #i said minerva #but i mean me #i am willing to sacrifice this dude to keep our desmond alive

[ravynswag]

how they feel about you?😆 / how they view you PAC

1-2 too, 3-4 bottom

decks used: manga tarot, mystic mondays tarot, wild animal spirit oracle, romance oracle (all my decks i use are in my pinned! can be requested for free readings!)

all cards pulled are said in reading- rx=reversed.

pile 1 - croc and otter

with a lot of water relevant here, i see them seeing you as very level headed and in control of your emotions. you don’t let things get to you easily. this can also make you be viewed as stoic or emotionless, but i think some may take this as because of a past issue that has effected you. but this has also caused you to be very chill and calming to others or this person. they see you as having secrets or being off to others, but it makes them want to know you even more! you give off very big leader and king vibes here, so i think they see you as an older or more mature person compared to them- and they like it! this relates to the croc and otter “prey and predator”. i think they see you as a playful person, but always analyzing and observing people. a bit closed off and hesitant to join in. perhaps they have considered reaching out, but are nervous bc of this bit of a closed off side of you. don’t be afraid to show a little bit of the childlike side of you and be playful!

cards : crocodile, otter, passion, let your friends help you, temperance, moon, king of coins, knight of swords, emperor, 4 of swords, 3 of swords, 6 of cups.

pile 2 - fish and tiger

i feel like they view you as a bit disconnected from love and being open to love. i think they believe you aren’t feeling the same way towards them and you have your own stuff to deal with. tiger may be relevant? black and white tiger. (love synchronicities like that!!!) all around it looks like people view you as heavily considering your future and all possibilities, but you aren’t open to love or having a possible significant other anytime soon. also, maybe you’re dealing with family problems rn and they don’t want to overstep boundaries!! if you feel like this is a false statement, try showing you are open to receiving and giving love. they don’t view you badly- actually good! they just don’t know where you stand with relationships and things of that sort. IF you felt called to pile 1- scroll up and read!

cards: tiger, fish, unrequited love, healing family issues, strength, 3 of cups, page of coins (rx), 4 of wands, 3 of wands.

pile 3 - bear and swan

i think this person may see you as moving too quickly or hasty. i think they’re attracted to you, but you may have an addiction or attachment to something that they don’t like. they see you as learning from past mistakes and they see you as a good person and a practical person! i just think they want you to make some transformations and change some habits. if you feel called to read pile 4, read.

cards: bear, swan, attraction, codependency, 10 of cups, king of pentacles, 8 of wands, chariot, 7 of coins (rx)

pile 4 - firefly and camel

this pile just has such a childlike and happy energy!!! i see this person as viewing you as a breath of fresh air! i think you help them see the light in the dark and always help them and give them the advice. i think they want to reach out, but may feel unsure where your current mindset is. maybe you’re in a funk rn, but it may be affecting how they are approaching you or not showing their true feelings. i think they could be not showing the whole truth bc of fear of being rejected or being pushed aside. i think if you have a hobby shared, they like this ab you as well! have faith and trust !!! don’t be afraid to make the steps needed to further a connection. if you felt called to read like 3, do it.

cards: firefly, camel, trust, make the effort, ace of swords, 5 of wands (came up 2x), 4 of cups (rx), 10 of coins, ace of wands

#tarot #tarot reading #spirituality #tarot cards #oracle reading #oracle #education #growth #tarot tips #pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a card #pac

[communicationthroughlyrics]

It's Time to Let Her Know What You Need - Pt. 2

What happens when a call goes awry, and your former trainee finds out?

A/N: Here's the smut- Enjoy!

2.7K Word Count

Carefully placing your knee in between her spread legs, you made sure to move it carefully, spreading her arousal on your thigh, and giving her a delightful bit of friction where she needed it most but was least suspecting it. 

“Oh!” She moaned arching up towards your chest, gifting the perfect opportunity to slip your hand to her back, unclasping her bra and letting her supple breasts fall open to you. Hardly able to contain yourself, you leaned her back down, sucking, nipping, and kissing the valley between, you palmed one breast, forcing a husky whine to come from the writhing woman below. “Baby, please!” She let out a hungry, frustrated growl, grinding against your thigh hard. She pushed you back up, momentarily, sliding down the shorts you were left in. Smirking, when she discovered that you weren’t wearing panties either. You didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes had darkened to the point where there was hardly any of the ocean blue you had come to love. 

Picking her up with the arm still wrapped around her back, you lifted her so you could push her deeper onto the plush bed.

“Well, baby, looks like someone is excited. Is this all for me?” You asked, ghosting your fingers over her silken, drenched folds. She frantically nodded, her words suddenly betraying her. “Oh, Jayje… you’re a mess.” You smile, returning to your diligent work of ensuring that each breast was sufficiently taken care of, before tracing your tongue down her stomach and nipping and kissing her hip bone. Before you got to the apex of her thighs, you came back up for one more ardent kiss. You pressed your bodies together, needing the friction and the closeness. It was like an addiction, you now know what her body feels like against yours. Glistening in a thin layer of sweat and desire, you both fit together perfectly. 

The electricity between you was undeniable as you explored her body for the first time. You could feel her heart race as you began to trace every curve of her body, igniting a deep, passionate fire within. JJ had never felt this before. Your connection was intense and intoxicating, undeniable as if you had been waiting for this moment for your entire lives. Your continued discovery began to bring forth the profound connection that had been simmering beneath the surface for years. You pushed yourself further, languidly following the toned lines of JJ’s body. As you neared the area she needed you most, you began to nip and lick over every inch of her thighs, effectively cleaning off all the arousal that had worked its way to them. 

Her heady arousal was driving you wild, it was taking all of you to be able to hold back, to draw this out as much as you could both stand. Dragging your nose and tongue up between her outer lips and her upper thigh, her juices collected on both. She frantically grabbed at your head, trying to force you to where she wanted you. Her chest was heaving, her breath ragged, as she anticipated what was in store, thighs tightening around you to keep you in place. As you continued to tease her, JJ's grip on your hair tightened, her fingers tangling in your locks as she whimpered in baited anticipation. Her legs fell apart, inviting you to take the next step, to give her the release she so desperately craved. Her pulse continued to race, pounding in time with your own as if your rhythms had become synchronized in this moment of pure, unadulterated desire.

With a gentle, deliberate touch, you parted her lips, your fingers tracing the contours of her most intimate places. JJ's eyes fluttered closed, her head thrown back in abandon as you began to explore the sweet, hidden places that only you had access to. Her taste was getting you drunk, and you would gladly run this well completely dry. You delved deeper, your tongue dancing across her sensitive flesh, relishing in the pornographic moans that were coming from the depths. Your pace was unbridled, working JJ to the edge while plunging your muscle into her velvety, warm walls. The air was heavy with tension, the noises coming from both sets of her lips enough to make Eros blush. You could feel the weight of your connection, and the depths of your desires as you worked to unravel the tightly wound threads of JJ's passion. Every touch, every caress, every gentle probing of her tender skin was a testament to the bond that had grown between you, a bond that had been forged in the fire of your shared longing.

As you delved deeper, JJ's gasps grew more ragged, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. Her body began to shake, her thighs quivering with anticipation, her fingers digging deep into your scalp as she urged you on. You could feel her building, her climax hovering just out of reach, as you worked to bring her to the edge, to push her over the precipice into the abyss of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The room around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, lost in this sea of sensation, this whirlpool of desire. Time itself seemed to slow, the world narrowing to the touch of your skin, the beat of your heart, the rush of your breath. You were one, a single, undivided entity, united in your quest for pleasure, for connection, for the raw, unbridled passion that drove you both. Wanting to experience her falling apart before you, you pushed two fingers inside of her, continuing your relentless abuse of her swollen, throbbing clit. 

Spreading her apart with both fingers, you buried your tongue deep within her walls, savoring the feeling of her smooth walls clenching around you. You moaned at the experience, sending her body into a tailspin, making her a convulsing mess as you began to wiggle your nose against her tortured bundle of nerves. And then, in an instant, it happened. JJ's body went rigid, her back arching, her head thrown back in a silent scream of pleasure. Her orgasm ripped through her, a tidal wave of sensation that left her gasping, trembling, and utterly spent. You felt her release, felt the rush of her pleasure as it coursed through your own body, a feedback loop of desire that threatened to consume you both. Lapping at the cum that was leaking out of her, you cleaned her up, kitten-licking and nudging her to another state of arousal.

“Jesus, Y/N.” You sent her a cocky smile as you rose from between her thighs. 

“Yes?”

“Had I known you could do that, I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

“Jayje?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not done with you.” She groaned at the admission, as you climbed back up, kissing her deeply. You could feel the vibration of her moaning, tasting herself on your tongue. You quickly stood, running to the bathroom where you kept your toys hidden, strapping the harness onto your chiseled hips. Picking the toy you felt would be best, you affixed it and stalked out to find JJ laying in the center of your bed, hand in between her legs, slowly rubbing and fucking herself while the other hand played with her nipple. You watched briefly, seeing how stunning her afterglow was, a light blush on her tanned features. Her mouth was parted ever so slightly, whimpers and moans being elicited as she pleasured herself on your bed. 

Soon, a bubble of jealousy rose from the pit of your stomach, not liking that she was touching herself in the way only you should be. Your feet moved on instinct, almost as if you had floated over to her, ripping her fingers out from between her legs. She startled at the sudden display of desire, moaning as you pulled her fingers to your mouth, cleaning them off effectively, your eyes maintaining contact with hers. Once you had deemed them clean, you pinned the arm above her head, resting your forehead against hers.

“Fuck, Y/N…” she whispered, reaching her other hand out to run down your stomach, lightly scratching her nails against your skin. 

“No one… no one touches what’s mine, even you. Got it?” You ask, staring directly into her eyes.

“Yours, huh? It was mine first…” she quipped, gasping when she received a hard pinch to her nipple.

“I get to take care of this now,” you ran your hand over her torso, leading up to the nape of her neck. Grasping the hair at the base of her head, you pulled tightly, directing her head closer. “Only I get to take care of you like this, JJ.” She nodded frantically, her lip in between her teeth. You began to rock your hips against her, your forehead resting against her own. In doing so, the dildo attached to your hips was now dragging through her soaked folds, lubricating them before you began to prod her entrance with the tip. She bucked her hips hard, pushing up against you. Enjoying the helplessness you were witnessing, you began to barely enter her, watching as her starved pussy swallows the tip of the silicone dick. 

Groaning at the sight before you, her greedy hole was taunting you for more. You began to work deeper with each thrust, her whining getting higher and higher with every thrust. Finally, you couldn’t take the teasing anymore, and buried yourself to the hilt, causing a heavy gasp to come from the woman below. Her hands flew to your back, scratching their way down to your hips. She wrapped her legs around you, pulling you deeper as your head rested by her ear. She began to run her hands up your back once more, coming to a rest in the hair at the back of your head. She tightened her grip, pulling you back before crashing her lips to yours in an intense and feverish kiss. Pulling away, her eyes bore into yours, pupils dilated.

“Since you were so kind to interrupt and insist on taking care of me, I need you to fuck me.” Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned at her admission. Her legs squeezed around your hips, and you leaned back, rocking your hips slightly, causing her to arch her back slightly and let out a low, rumbly moan. Slowly backing the toy out, you watched as every detail pressed into the silicone eased out from between her lips. You suddenly snapped your hips forward, causing JJ’s breath to hitch her grip tightening in your hair. Beginning at a torrid pace, you thrust yourself in and out, a filthy sloshing sound coming from below. 

Her legs loosened around you, unable to maintain their grip between the pace you had set, and her impending orgasm. Her mewls and whimpers were getting louder, and you felt more resistance as she was tightening around you. Grabbing one of her legs, you lift it above your shoulder, adjusting her to your newfound angle, and causing her to arch, burying her face in the crook of her elbow as she screamed. Pulling her arm away from her face, her eyes drifted to you, and you shook her head, telling her all she needed to know. You wanted to hear her, needed to hear every sound she made. Using your other hand, you began rubbing her clit, sending her hurtling toward the edge with a filthy string of moans coming from JJ. 

Continuing your pace, you worked her through her high, burying yourself hilt deep again as you flipped her onto her stomach, pushing her face down the mattress below. Positioning one leg by her hip, while the other remained on the mattress, you began to plunge deep within her once more. She was a writhing, wiggling, bumbling mess underneath you, and you were becoming addicted to the sight. Her arousal was dripping down her thighs, and with the new change in position, the toy was now hitting you in. Just the right place, which was sending you towards your climax.

“Fuck, Jayje…” you grunted as your pace began to falter. JJ, having already climaxed twice prior, was extremely close to her third. She was palming the sheets, grasping at anything that would ground her while you sent her hurtling to outer space. You reached out, wrapping your hand in her golden hair, pulling her backward towards you. You wrapped your arms around her chest and waist, and both your sweaty bodies clung to each other as you growled and nibbled at her ear, nosing behind it. You felt her body beginning to tremble, her head falling back as she cried out your name. “I know you’re close baby, go ahead. Show me how good you feel,” you husked in her ear, grunting as you began to feel the effects of your orgasm, and she cried out as her body fell limp in your arms. You both became a mess of sweaty, tangled limbs as you collapsed to the bed. As you both lay there, you caught your breath as she did hers. 

You turned your head, looking at her blush features, the sheen on her skin making her glow in the afternoon light that was filtering in the windows to your bedroom. You made quick work of the harness on your hips, tossing it to the corner by the bathroom so you could take care of it later. Her raspy voice snapped you out of the trance you had been in. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“What does this mean for us?” She asked, rolling to face you, her hand coming up, tracing patterns on your chest, following the patterns of your tattoos, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your torso. 

“What do you want this to be, Jay?” You ask, kissing her forehead.

“Well, I mean, besides this?” She motioned between the two of you, a shy smile on her face. “I mean, I just had the best sex of my life, but I don’t want just that. I just, don’t know…where you’re at with this.” At the admission, she buried her face into your chest, as if she didn’t want to see the look on your face with what you’ll say next.

“Hey, none of that, pretty girl.” You murmured, gently pulling her face off your chest, and forcing her to look at you directly. “First off, no hiding, Jennifer. If this is what we are going to do, we can’t hide from each other.” You look over her face, taking in the faintest of freckles that dance across her features. “I want this, Jayje. I have for a long time. It just took me a while to be able to admit to myself, that I had feelings for someone with whom I worked so close to.” She nodded in understanding, so you continued. “This isn’t going to be easy,” you wiped your thumb across her cheekbone, as she leaned into your touch. “We should also take it slow, and probably wait until we tell anyone we work with. Especially Chief. He will not let you be my on-duty partner if he knows we’re romantically involved.” She nodded.

“Okay, I can understand that, as hard as it's going to be to not show you affection at work.”

“I know, babe. But it’s for the best.”

“Y/N?” Her voice was quiet, distant, almost.

“Yes, Jay?”

“I know it’s way too early, but I’ve felt this way for a while. I love you, Y/N.” Your heart jumped at her admission, knowing she felt the same as you had come to terms with, made you feel lighter, more relaxed. 

“It’s not too early, Jay. We’ve both known for a while. We were just too worried about the repercussions to say.”

“You love me too?” She asked, a slight sniffle to her question. Her body tensed as she waited for you to respond.

“I love you, Jennifer Jareau. I have, for a long time.” You smiled down at her, leaning forward to kiss her softly, with more passion and emotion than you anticipated. In the aftermath, JJ's body relaxed, her muscles going slack as she melted into the mattress, her eyes fluttering open to gaze up at you with a look of pure, unadulterated adoration. You smiled, your heart full, your soul at peace, as you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, holding her tight. For in that moment, you knew that you were home, that you had found your haven, your sanctuary, your soulmate. 

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #lesbian nsft #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jennifer jj jareau #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #criminal minds #aj cook

[mochamoth]

My White 2 team!!✨️🎉

I'm at the 6th gym currently, about to fight Skyla! Here's a closer look at everyone on my team:

My starter (ofc)! He's kind of a one trick pony, only knowing grass type moves aside from Coil.

I'll go in order of when I caught them. Next up is Scratch, my physical staller (she knows Roost and has leftovers)! She has Super Luck as an ability which is very nice (unless I'm trying to catch wild pokemon).

Gummy Worm my beloved (Scolipede is my 2nd favorite pokemon)! Not much to say about her other than being a hard hitter (if a bit frail defense wise.. especially special defense).

Froyo. The Epseon who didn't know any psychic type moves for 10 whole levels. Joking aside he is SO strong omg. He also has Synchronize which is one of my favorite abilities.

Ever since I used an Excadrill in Sword I've been obsessed. Now I'll admit he doesn't have the best nature (none of my pokemon do on this team unfortunately) but UGH he's still amazing.

Lastly, my most recent team member. She's gonna be my coverage, knowing a varied moveset. I think she's my fastest pokemon, and also ignore the Shell Bell. I didn't know what to give her item wise 😭.

I know this team isn't like- competitive level "omg this is amazing". But I'm a casual player, and I use the pokemon I like rather than what's strong.

#pokemon #pokemon team #pokemon white 2 #pokemon bw #pokemon black and white #pokemon bw2 #pokemon black and white 2 #serperior #unfezant #scolipede #zebstrika #excadrill #espeon