Dp au in my which everyone's dead except Danny.

So how would this work? I haven't given much thought to it tbh.

You know how ectoplasm is toxic to living creatures? And Amity park is filled with ambient ectoplasm? And also there's an active ghost portal spewing ectoplasm fresh from the zone 24/7??

I think that would be a solid reason for the slow death of pretty much everyone there. Everyone except Danny. Why? Because he isn't dead he only half died and then he came back.

So the ectoplasm does nothing harmful to him. His ghost side ensures that. But that isn't the case for everyone else.

For everyone else, Amity Park was normal one second and then,,,,not. Malevolent ghosts started appearing, a ghost superhero too, the sky was this faint shade of green, everything had this almost unnoticeable emerald green tinge. It gets harder and harder to breathe as the weeks pass by.

And they don't notice.

They used to, there used to be shouts of fear, or excitement (from caspar high students), gasps of surprise, some kind of reaction everytime Danny flew by, chasing yet another ghost. But not anymore.

Most of them didn't speak anymore, choosing to lie stiff and motionless, always in the same spot. They stared ahead, glassy eyed like they couldn't see him. Maybe they couldn't. He doesn't know.

But there are others who can. Others who aren't frozen still, who talk and scream and hiss and growl something feral and vengeful. He doesn't like them very much. Maybe it was something he did? The wraith woman with the hazmat suit and guns yelled at him the most. And she never missed her mark when it came to those guns. He doesn't like her much either.

There's another red haired woman. Girl. She's frozen though. He doesn't know how he can tell she had red hair. Or that she was a girl. It's weird. Her skeleton looks just like any others. He doesn't like her much either, she makes him sad without even saying anything. Not that she would ever speak again.

The one thing that he likes, he supposed, is flying. Sometimes when he flew high enough the sky would turn black and cold and stars would flicker like candles. (Stars. What were those?) But he'd get tired eventually and have to go back down.

It's fine though, the green skies aren't that bad either.

More vessel biology headcanons?

Vessels are actually really, really good at burrowing. It’s probably how so many escaped the abyss after they got sealed. They got it from both parents, and the void. Which per my silly little brain, can old be contained in round glass.

the void basically erodes/decays things in fast forward otherwise?

Vessels all have one major flaw or imperfection the void couldn’t remove, THKs was either a desire for perfection or being able to make familial bonds.

Ghosts flaw is an endless well of willpower. They will never, ever, stop. They inherited from their mothers conceptual side, because their will is the slow burrowing of roots through stone and the deceptively gentle trickle of water on metal. Greenpath vessels was a sense of adventure/desire to explore. And the nosk vessels all had a sense of longing for companionship which led to their deaths.

The vessels also seem to have physical flaws too? Like structurally I mean. The prime example is THKs missing arm, in the pure vessel boss fight that same arm is what they use for the void tendrils attack and by the time we fight them in the egg it’s entirely rotted off. I think it honestly was never as strong or stable as the other arm and was bound to be lost eventually. Broken Vessels flaw would be their third horn(the one that’s broken off).

Vessels actually do still have some of their own light, you can see this in game actually—even without the lantern you give off a subtle glow. I think that some vessels actually retained some of the godly light and status they otherwise would have had, only a little though.

The above idea comes from my headcanon that Wyrms specifically are really resistant to void as far as gods go, because they always dig deep and far and in that sometimes burrow into pockets of void far below the surface. They need to be able to survive contact with it in the short term at least. This nature would explain how some vessels retain minute traces of light, and why the pale king was the one actually standing at the mouth of the abyss waiting for vessels.

given time, soul, and light a vessel can grow to enormous sizes- or eventually metamorphose into a wyrm proper. Albeit one still tarnished by the void

in fact I wonder if any of the seeds/eggs dropped into the abyss hatched young Wyrms instead of vessels? Maybe they escaped or something? I don’t think this is likely but it’s a cool idea.

vessels are deceptively light, as in like hornet could carry THK on her back if she needed to- they’re literally hollow in a way

Void and water don’t mix, it’s like oil and water. That’s why we float in the blue lake.

The void itself might be the remnants of an ancient sea that covered the world beyond Hallownest before the age of bright gods. It would explain the trilobite creature we see in deepnest and the way the abyss and the rest of Hallownest appear to be made of fossilized shells. Plus if it’s the remnants of the sea then it could be something like a microbial mat that’s really toxic to life? Like maybe it’s a magic microbial soup? Magic microbial goop even. Vessels are goop.

Vessels are really really strong compared to other ways of containing things, like THK held the radiance for a long ass time. If a vessel tried to contain a weaker god they’d probably just be able to tbh. Like anything weaker than the nightmare heart if probably fair game for yoinking.

Vessels also sometimes inherit the hunger of Wyrms, and looking into their eyes gives the sensation of falling into the maw of some great beast. Godseaker did call Little Ghost a wielder of nail and eater of soul

Vessels are also really susceptible to outside influences, kinda like evee if they were Pokémon. This is how Ghost can use so many charms at once but also why said charms can change them so easily.

Theoretically a vessel raised by or containing a god could take on some of their traits-either by force or by accident.

Unrelatedly THK has a voice to cry out with…

I think radiance may have eventually tried turning them into something more like Grimm is for the heart, a body for her to use and a mind thoroughly broken to her will.

after-all she shines brightest against the darkness…

If they could eat, Vessels would have a truly remarkable number of tastebuds, because Wyrms will eat anything and I feel like the white lady has ways to “taste” the soil to see if it’s nutrient rich and has fertilizer.

man I’m just realizing, vessels would like some weird food, they’d definitely eat dirt

THK crunching on crystals?? Likely

Finally the horns of vessels are actually their “branches” and will keep growing indefinitely unless trimmed or broken periodically, this comes from both parents. Wyrms need to constantly replace burrowing teeth and Roots are beings of constant growth and pruning.

✦ another (even wilder) theory with bagel

similar to my teruko theory, this one also has a lot of room for rebuttal. to be honest, a lot of the evidence i have for this is quite flimsy (_ _;)

this theory is mainly about mai akasaki’s connection to the cast, and how it relates to the killing game in general.

take this with a grain of salt as always

//spoilers for up to chapter 2 part 1 of drdt

//additional spoilers for bonus content, such as the bonus episodes and the new “literature girl insane” MV

there shouldn’t be any tally5 spoilers if i’m not wrong ( ・∇・)

here’s one question i have for you all: how many members in the cast, right now, actually know mai akasaki?

it’s definitely implied in the bonus episodes and the quotes on her character page that she’s connected with everyone in the current cast, but there was a paradox i noticed—if it even is one, that is (-.-;)—that led me to think that this question…may actually be a lot more complicated than it seems.

let’s bring up the bonus episodes first. min’s bonus episode is definitely during their time at hope’s peak. they’re literally at the school, studying about it, discussing min’s “role” as an ultimate compared to the other students, etc. basically, many details point to min and “unnamed classmate” (who is presumably mai, based on the flowers in the dialogue box of the bonus episodes matching up with those on mai’s tattoo) being students of hope’s peak academy in the united states. though there’s no physical evidence or exact basis for this, i would personally like to think that xander’s bonus episode is placed during spring break at the academy. he is talking to his “classmate,” after all—and in that case, it would also chronologically line up with min’s (whose bonus episode takes place a week before spring break).

presumably, the other bonus episodes will follow a similar pattern, and we will see mai/UC talking to other members of the DRDT cast to get to know them more. i will assume this means that the whole cast, not just min and xander, have been to hope’s peak before—and attended class as students there. after all, it would be the only way the bonus episodes would make sense.

however, the dialogue from the first few episodes of the series suggests something else.

as implied from the dialogue, all of the students believe they are only entering the entrance ceremony of hope’s peak as freshmen, and had no previous affiliation with the school. including xander.

obviously, this means that at the very least, their memories have been tampered with to remove anything regarding their experience at hope’s peak academy.

— sorry, very quick side tangent (*'▽'*) going by this theory, if the drdt cast genuinely went to hope’s peak, it’s very likely that they had to do a bunch of paperwork and submit a lot of information for their enrollment—which probably includes medical information and any accommodations that were necessary for their well-being. additionally, if we assume that the cast attended hope’s peak for a year or a few years, it’s likely that whoever the mastermind is, they had the time to know the rest of their classmates well enough to be able to identify their preferences either way, this would actually be a pretty strong explanation as to why many components of their environment seem to be extremely fine-tuned to their preferences and necessities, despite no recollection of sharing that information with anyone involved in the killing game. though i bet this was already obvious, i felt like it was something i probably should bring up.

—

in that case, however—how would it affect their memories with mai?

as i can’t exactly speculate for the other students, i’m going to trace back to what i know. at the very least, it seems to be implied that min only met mai after being admitted into hope’s peak academy. min essentially drove her entire life around schoolwork, and studying for the “ultimate contest for eminent students,” the test that allowed min to receive her title—it’s likely that before then, she never surrounded herself with friends nor had any time for herself to explore her own hobbies. which probably means that she wasn’t acquainted with mai before enrolling into hope’s peak.

her backstory is really sad, by the way. i really wish she lived longer ( ´△｀)

as for when it comes to the other characters, i would like to remind you that hope’s peak scouts across the country for their students—so it’s more logical to assume that many of them resided in hometowns that were very far away from each other. so unless mai’s talent was the ultimate traveler or something, i think it would be very improbable for her to know everyone in the cast before their admittance into hope’s peak.

taking this into account, and assuming that the cast’s memories of hope’s peak were completely erased, there’s a possibility that the cast doesn’t remember mai akasaki, despite her connections with them. the only exception would be teruko, who clearly remembers mai—and seems to have been helped by her when enrolling into the academy in the first place, pointed out by this theory here by @laly-481.

…or at least, that’s what i thought at first—until someone decided to kick in the door while holding a new music video.

i guess in that case, the biggest question i should answer is this—why does david remember mai?

getting into very, very wild theory territory here. take what i’m about to say with a grain of salt assuming that the music video is really a reflection of david’s worldview and thought process, please ignore the fact that i’m acting like the antithesis of occam’s razor right now, then there’s no reason for mai akasaki to be featured in the video—much less have a photo of her placed in a wooden frame—if he didn’t remember her.

yet, there she is, on the right:

she even has a little description about how she was “someone dearly loved,” which fits perfectly with her character and the secret quotes on her profile page.

this is indicative of the fact that david remembers mai—and knows her well enough to even make an accurate statement about her. but, how?

obviously there’s the simpler explanation of “david knew mai before they went to hope’s peak,” which is of course a totally valid explanation—however, some details about the new music video made me consider a possible, different theory.

a grain of salt? more like, a mountain of salt from here on out

when i was watching the “literature girl insane” music video earlier, i noticed something interesting about this frame: 

here, xander doesn’t have his eyepatch. though i’m not throwing away the possibility that this was just a technical error on the artist’s side—personally, this could be a indication that david knew xander before the killing game. 

seeing as all of the cast are connected by the unnamed “classmate,” after all, it’s a likely possibility that the current participants of the killing game were originally in the same class at hope’s peak academy. which means, they all probably knew each other before this whole killing game went down. 

in an earlier theory, i talked about how xander may have been the person in the opening prologue cutscene, and how he probably had his eye injured at that time. given that the person speaking during that scene is aware of the killing game (and is expressing their desire to end it), this event likely happened right before the killing game started—otherwise, it would be pretty imprudent for the mastermind to announce it and then wait for an entire month to set up everything, then make everyone fall unconscious, then remove their memories, etc. 

what i’m trying to get here is that the cast, had they still retained their memories from hope’s peak, would definitely remember xander with both eyes. however, we know this to not be the case—from his introduction, we all see that xander had already lost his right eye from the beginning of the killing game. therefore, for david to remember xander from before he got his eye injury, he must’ve had at least some partial memory of hope’s peak—otherwise, it would be highly unlikely. this would give a possible explanation as to why the frame of xander without his eyepatch appears in the “literature girl insane” music video. and maybe give a possible explanation as to why david cared about xander despite only knowing him for ~three days. and defended him passionately during the first trial even after a lot of evidence pointed to him attacking teruko.

this also would explain why david remembers mai—assuming they were in the same class, since mai likely had incredibly close connections with the cast (including david), it’s more than likely that david cared about mai and possibly (vaguely) remembered her even after having his memories tampered with.

well, the “no-eyepatch” deduction completely hinges on the assumption that xander didn’t like, take off his eyepatch in front of david like he did with teruko, so i may be completely wrong about this. however, it is interesting that such a small detail was included in the mv.

so is this one:

i don’t know how it is for you guys, but that fork seems suspiciously similar to the fork in the prologue (which i theorized to be the item that caused the injury to xander’s right eye). additionally, the fork literally stabbing the “face” of the clock is… quite symbolic. it may be just me. i’m not sure. (-_-;) though, it could suggest that david remembers that scene—and perhaps knows about the “possible escape” of killing teruko? i highly doubt he was the one who wrote the note (rather i think that was xander himself), but it may account for that 2nd vote for teruko in the first trial.

my personal (unhinged) theory (with really no way to back it up) is that david may have retained partial memories of his experience at hope’s peak—but probably only a little, definitely not all of them. this may explain why he remembers mai and seems to recall xander before his eye injury (despite xander seemingly not remembering that they’ve met before)—but hasn’t called out the true mastermind nor seems to remember an escape yet. also, though his current behavior in the 2nd trial may imply that he’s trying to end the killing game early via wrong vote, i personally think he’s just breaking down and acting suicidal without that objective in mind, based on his actions.

little side note at the end: it would be absolutely amazing (and ironic) if the two people with the most distant character relationships with the rest of the cast (as of now) happened to remember the single person that had the closest relationships to all of them.

minor clarification/add-on: i just realized that i never said this, really sorry about that. m(_ _)m but basically, i don’t think david has any sort of clear memories regarding xander and mai at hope’s peak—rather, when i say “partial memories” i meant more along the lines of “vague nostalgia you can’t quite place.” he might somewhat recognize their faces at most, but likely not any clear sequences of events. and honestly, what i wanted to talk about more in regards to this theory is more about the fact that only teruko (and maybe david) remember mai in the first place—the rest of the cast probably can’t, with the way their memories were wiped.

uh, this was quite the ride. i truly felt like the antithesis of occam’s razor as i was writing this

however—this theory likely has a lot of points that can be argued against, as well as many other possibilities i didn’t consider. please, don’t be afraid to drop them in your reblogs or comments, i would love to read them!

and as always, take this with a (larger than usual) grain of salt

Pretty basic stuff but have u any thoughts on the Kendall water motif and that brief moment when his siblings swim out/ join him out there when they tell him he can have IT but obvi in the end he’s left alone staring out at waves as we’re left with the sounds of lapping water!!

i don’t think i have anything as eloquent to say about kendall (and water) that jeremy strong himself has not already articulated but i have been thinking about this for other reasons so i will say. the NRPI thing is so crazy specifically because the death of andrew dodds is literally the only real thing that has ever happened to kendall. it is the only thing that he has not been able to save by throwing impossible amounts of money at it. but what if the only real thing you’ve ever known is also the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?

season one has two inciting incidents, one for logan and one for kendall. logan’s body failing him and kendall’s manslaughter are the two thematic threads of the series because they are the only real things that either of them experience, that they cannot inoculate themselves against through their wealth. in season one, logan does manage to use his wealth to save his failing body, and uses his staff to remove any traces of kendall from the scene. but logan knows that his time is running out, and kendall knows that this will now be the defining moment of his life, even if he will never be implicated for it.

that crash is, in a very literal sense, a baptism, and in every scene throughout the series where kendall is submerged in water, both alive and dead simultaneously (shrodinger’s kendall), he is attempting to recreate that baptism. despite the fact that this experiencing of reality is one of misery and guilt and grief, it is his only taste of true reality, and he wants to be a real boy! even if it means dying in the water the same way andrew dodds did.

but then logan dies. and a second “real thing” has hit the kendall. logan could only throw money at his own mortality for so long. and suddenly kendall cannot get the best plane doctor to magically resurrect his dead father. and it is a real experience that bonds him to his siblings. so he takes back the vehicular manslaughter confession. who needs two real things? two is twice as many as one! now you’re just being greedy.

when kendall performs his fantastical conman speech in LA, presents the notion of eternal life, something that logan was obsessed with and clung to against reason, kendall is, of course, spewing bullshit, but he is also attempting to contend with his father’s death, someone who seemed immortal to him. dying, after all, is very undad. do i believe that he has successfully deluded himself into the possibility of eternal life when he has that triumphant moment in the water where he floats face up, that he has found a panacea to the reality of human mortality that has been eating away at him? i do if only because what he describes as a “human thing” in his literal eulogy is not the body, is not death, but power and capital.

his delusion is fully cemented in his negation of his hand in dodds’s death. he tries to undo reality so that he can become the ruler of the bullshit factory. but shiv and roman won’t let him, because reality is what brought them together (kendall’s confession, logan’s death), but bullshit tears them apart.

(kendall swims out into the water, and shiv and roman decide that it should be him while he is still in the water, while they acknowledge him as their brother, as someone real. so they swim out to him and, this is crucial, he is on a platform, wet but not submerged in water, when they kingmake him. they make the decision while by the water but not within it, and they give it to him while he has been in the water but is now above it. the meal fit for a king scene is obviously their most real moment and it immediately follows this, but their positioning in and out of the water in this scene foreshadows how it will end.)

and kendall doesn’t get it. he denies reality so he can be king of bullshit kingdom, but it’s not enough. so of course the final shot is of colin trailing behind kendall like a spectre, the only man alive who can truly place kendall at the scene of the crime. kendall’s sins looming behind him, the river before him, and he is in limbo, forever.

This is a Spider-Gwen jumpsuit I made!

Happy Halloween! I made this bodysuit and I'm super happy with it!

I'm gonna break down step by step what i did but I'm NOT a professional cosplayer or seamstress or fashion designer or anything. This is just to document what I've done in case it could help somebody else!

Materials used:

Scuba hex white (2 yards, available at Joann or Cosplay Fabrics International)

Scuba hex black (2 yards, same as previous links)

Web pattern on Spoonflower (make sure to order it printed on spandex!)

Three zippers (one for the bodysuit, two for the arms)

7mm snap buttons for the collar

Wig from @ardawigscanada so I don't actually have to style it as I am lazy and bad at wig styling

Step One: PATTERNING

I used several patterns as a base:

Yaya Han's Ultimate Bodysuit Pattern for the general design (McCall's M7217)

The Yaya Han pattern with a baseball jersey shirt for the arm sleeves (McCall's M7554)

McCall's M7486 for the hood (or you can trace a hood from a sweater of your choice)

Step Two: DRAFTING

First I tested out the bodysuit pattern solely on its own on some cheap stretchy fabric just to make sure it fits. I find that their smallest size fits me well as I am definitely a very stringy person. But the bodysuit was a bit short so i needed to extend the torso parts.

Then I trace out new patterns and draw the Spider-Gwen design on top of them, and cut.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!!!

I wasn't sure if that would fit me either so I made ANOTHER mockup of the pattern I drafted out of scrap fabric (basically the web pattern I ordered but in the wrong size because I am dumb and I don't check things). Turns out this was a GOOD IDEA because this came out too loose! The fabrics I got were veeeery expensive so I'd rather be safe than sorry!

Step Three: COMMENCE SEWING! (AND HAIR PULLING)

After making the adjustments to my paper patterns, I held my breath and started on the bodysuit proper. Hoping that I don't fuck everything up.

I started with the easy stuff, which were the front panels:

So far so good! I didn't use any special types of stitches, just regular straight stitch. I read that other cosplayers may use zigzag stitches for stretchy fabric but I have very little sewing experience and I do NOT trust my sewing machine at all. Just do what you're comfortable with and you'll be fine!

And important note! Make sure you stretch your fabric slightly while sewing! It's supposed to be a stretchy suit after all!

Back panels were a pain, but I got it done... there was a lot of thread pulling and hair pulling and questioning my life choices involved.

then I sewed the sides together! The white and black parts don't align perfectly but you can't really tell in this picture 😅

After that, I sewed the web parts onto the sleeves and the sleeves to the shoulders. That part went surprisingly smoothly so I'm just going to move on. Sorry for the lack of images but there's a photo limit on this website.

Step 3.1 Gloves!!!

Okay so I got a separate pattern for the gloves and also left them to basically the last minute to finish as they're so goddamn difficult!

This tutorial helped me out so much!!!

As you can see in these pictures, my first attempt came out a bit too loose. But it was an easy fix. I just had to take in the thumb and the pinky and it fit reasonably well on my hand.

And I also installed zippers on the seams of my sleeves so I can easily remove my gloves while still keeping them attached to the jumpsuit. This is why this project needed three zippers.

Step 3.2 Collar

And finally, the collar. This almost made me gave up on the entire project.

Right after I sewed the hood on, I was well on my way to finishing, or so I thought!

Because I was combining two different patterns with two different types of collars, I needed to figure out how to make them fit together. there were many MANY failed attempts.

Eventually what I did was I cut out two curved trapezoid shaped things out of the white scuba fabric, sewed that to the top of where the hood connects to the bodysuit, and then sewed the collar on top of that. This made sure that the fabric actually conforms to my neck area.

I placed down a t-shirt to trace the curvy trapezoids, and also make sure you measure your neck area appropriately!

CLOSING THOUGHTS

So yeah that's basically what I did. I admit I was too lazy to dye my flats in order to make her ballet flats but I'm sure that's easy compared to this mess! Anyway my Converses worked in a pinch.

Thank you for reading! Good luck and Happy Halloween!

The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 4

“How are you feeling?” The gruff voice behind them made Mo jump. They spun around to find the speaker, and hit Izzy in the stomach before they realized there was no danger. The first mate doubled over and groaned.

“Ah, Izzy, I’m so sorry!” They grabbed his shoulders to stabilize him as he slowly straightened back up to his full height.

Izzy chuckled, holding his stomach. “Don’t be,” he croaked. “I’m glad you protected yourself.”

“Yeah, but I don’t need to protect myself from you!” Izzy’s unreadable eye contact made Mo’s face burn. They just knew they were turning an obnoxious shade of pink.

Izzy bit back a grin. “Well, before I was assaulted, I was just checking on you. Wanted to make sure you were healing alright after our training the other night.”

Mo realized they were still holding onto Izzy’s shoulders, quickly releasing him and fiddling with a ring on their hand. “Yeah, I’m doing alright,” they reassured hum, relieved to hear their voice didn’t betray their embarrassment. “I still have some pretty intense bruising, but hey, I’ve had a lot worse and still walked away.” They smirked. “Not even a fight with the great Izzy Hands could keep me down for long.”

Izzy smirked back. “Not when I hold back from giving the final blow,” he said dryly. “Yeah, but how could you bring yourself to hurt the ‘ray of sunshine pirate’?” Mo laughed when Izzy feigned a scowl, lightly punching him on the shoulder. “Don’t pretend like you’re not coming around to me. I can see it on your face, Izzy, you’re starting to like me. Or at least not hate me.” Izzy rolled his eyes, but took a small step back. He cleared his throat, wiping away any trace of his smile.

“Well, now that I know you’re alright, you should get back to work.” Back to being first mate and crew member, he made clear.

“Yeah,” Mo said, disappointed that they couldn’t continue joking around. “Hey, are we still good for night lessons tonight? I should be recovered enough to maybe do some more physical stuff again. Not that your navigation lessons weren’t fascinating," they added, hoping he could tell they were being sincere.

Izzy nodded. “I’ll have to check your bruising later to make sure you’re ready for it, but yes. I’ll see you tonight.” He began to walk away before Mo called after him. “Hey, Iz?” He turned back to face them. “Don’t work yourself too hard, okay? I know you didn’t get as bruised as me, but don’t run yourself ragged for my sake, or the rest of the crew for that matter.” Izzy rolled his eyes, but Mo saw the brief upturn of his lips before he turned away.

Mo turned back to work on removing the knots from old ropes. They were beginning to really look forward to their night lessons with Izzy. As much as they loved learning new skills that could potentially save their life one day, the thing they found themselves looking forward to most each night was spending time with Izzy. While they enjoyed what time they spent with him during the day, he was different at night. He had time to talk about things, and their ritual of drinking together after their more demanding lessons had allowed him to loosen up a bit. More than anything else, he seemed to benefit from time away from the rest of the crew. Even though they were willing to drop the “Izzy the Spewer” nickname, more for Mo’s benefit than for Izzy’s, no one else had warmed up to him yet. Every day, Mo was forced to watch him walk around, tense from the pressure of being first mate, unable to really connect with anyone else on the boat. Even when they had tried pulling him aside during the day to help him calm down after dealing with a particularly intense confrontation with Stede or Lucius, he couldn’t stop worrying about how the rest of his crew would see him. He refused to show any weakness in front of them, and having emotions was deemed a weakness by pirate standards.

Mo refused to give up on helping him. Not just because he was helping them, or even because of basic human decency. As much as dick as he could be at times, Izzy had become a friend, someone to protect. It hurt Mo’s heart to see him struggle so much, so desperate for respect and approval from his captain that he would never earn. They liked seeing his rare smiles, and every time he laughed, they would think about it the rest of the day and feel a little giddy. They couldn’t understand how people couldn’t see the good in him.

Mo’s eyes widened, their hands stalling as they froze in place. “Oh shit,” they whispered under their breath, trying to ignore the way their stomach lurched. “Do…do I…,” they trailed off, before looking around to make sure no one had noticed them. They didn’t dare finish the thought out loud. The idea of someone hearing them say they had feelings for Izzy Hands was too much to handle. “Fuuuuuuck,” they groaned quietly, turning to face the open sea so no one could see the way they grimaced.

They looked around, trying to find Frenchie. They spotted him across the deck, talking to Wee John. They carefully set down the rope they were working on before making their way across the deck to their friends.

“Hey guys,” Mo interjected softly, “is it okay if I borrow Frenchie for a minute?”

Wee John and Frenchie exchanged a concerned look before nodding. Mo mumbled a “Thanks” and grabbed Frenchie’s hand, pulling him down into the ship, towards the room the crew shared.

“Mo, babes, what’s going on?” Frenchie asked as he was dragged along by his friend.

“I, uh, I’ll let you know when we get there,” they stammered.

Once they reached the room, and Mo had closed the door behind them, they dropped his hand. They pressed their back against the door, heart beating rapidly in their chest.

“Honey,” Frenchie’s voice was soft, bending down to look at Mo’s face. “Darling, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Mo shook their head.

“N-no, I’m alright. I just, uh, I just realized something and I could not be up there around everyone.” They glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Shit. I’m sorry for grabbing you like that, I guess I just thought maybe you could talk some sense into me or something.” “Alright. Yeah, I’m sure I can do that,” he said, doing his best to stay calm. “But you have to tell me what’s going on for me to help.” Mo’s eyes began to sting, their face heating up. “Okay. I’m going to tell you, but you have to promise not to laugh. Or judge me. Gods, you’re going to want to judge me, but I need you to suppress the urge because you’re my friend, okay?” Frenchie nodded solemnly, crossing his heart.

They took a shaky breath, fighting to stay calm. “Okay, so I was working on removing knots from the rope, like Izzy asked me to, and I was thinking about our night lessons, and how much I enjoy them. I mean, I’ve always loved learning things, and these things are pretty important to know with our occupation.” Mo’s eyes began to water, and they had to fight off the tremor in their voice. “But I realized that my favorite part of the lessons wasn’t the lesson itself. It was…spending time with him.” Their voice cracked. “And it has been for a while, if I’m being honest with myself. The last few days, training with him has been…special. At least to me.” They laughed weakly. “Frenchie, I think I have feelings for him, and I don’t know what to do.” They looked up at their friend, unable to stop the first few tears from spilling over.

Frenchie looked confused, clearly caught off guard by their confession, but wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Mo, holding them closely and laying their head on his chest. He carded his fingers through their hair, quietly soothing them.

“It’ll be alright, love,” he whispered. “Are you just…caught off guard by these feelings, or is there something else going on?”

Mo sniffled, holding onto Frenchie’s shirt tightly. “I don’t even know,” they mumbled. “I guess it all just hit me at once. Oh gods, what am I going to do?” they whined. “How am I supposed to continue our lessons? It’s not like he’d ever… you know…reciprocate.” They took a deep breath, forcing their heart rate to slow back down. “One thing is for sure, I can’t go back out there looking like this.” They wiped their eyes, still clinging to Frenchie.

“Why don’t you take a minute in here, alright babe? You should have a moment to process it all before having to deal with anyone else.” Mo whimpered as Frenchie rubbed their back. What they did to deserve such a friend, they would never know.

They looked up at him, managing a small smile despite it all. “You’re a good friend, Frenchie. Thank you.”

Frenchie rubbed their cheek affectionately, smiling down at them. “Anytime, love.”

Suddenly, Mo had another, more unpleasant realization. They let out a loud groan, thumping their forehead onto Frenchie’s chest, ignoring the twinge of pain from their lingering bruise.

“Fuuuuuuck. Lucius is going to know so fast. He’s like a bloodhound for complicated relationships, and then everyone will know. Oh, why me? Why Izzy? Why couldn’t it be anyone else?” They buried their face in their friend’s shirt. “My life is a cosmic joke,” they mumbled, muffled by the fabric.

“Oh, dear,” Frenchie said quietly, rubbing his hand up and down their back. “Everything will sort itself out. And if it doesn’t, I’ll be here for you.”

“How in the fuck is this suppose to sort itself out though, Frenchie?” Mo asked, hating that they let themselves get in the situation in the first place. “He’s never going to feel the same way. And he’s on a different crew, with a higher rank, working for fucking Blackbeard of all people. There’s no way this plays out well, even if he did…reciprocate.”

They sighed softly. “And now I’ll just have to continue my lessons with him, like everything’s fine. Like I didn’t do the most Me thing possible and have an entire fucking meltdown because I realized a bit too late that I have feelings for him.” They groaned, screwing their eyes shut. “Gods, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Hey,” Frenchie said sternly, drawing their attention up to him. “You’re not a fucking idiot, babe. You’re my best friend, and you’re brilliant. You’ve got odd taste in men,” he said with a small smile, “but you’re smart, and funny, and kind. If he can’t see that, it’s his loss.”

Mo nodded, giving him a small smile.

“Thank you, Frenchie,” they said quietly. “You know you’re my best friend too.” They dried their eyes on the back of their hand, slowly pulling themselves out of Frenchie’s arms. They sniffed, wiping their nose on their sleeve. They had allowed themselves their breakdown, but now it was time to get back to business.

Mo sighed wearily. “Okay,” they said, voice unusually bleak. “I’m ready to go back out.” “You sure? You could take a few more minutes if you’re not ready.” They shook their head, giving Frenchie a quick squeeze on his upper arm. “No amount of time is going to fix this for me,” they said, looking up at their tall friend. “I can’t dwell on it. All I can do is go out there and…deal with it. Somehow.”

Frenchie frowned. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “If you’re sure. You know, though, I’m always here for you.”

Mo smiled weakly. “I know, love. I’m always going to be here for you too. So,” they added, making an attempt to get their joking spirit back, “when it’s your turn to realize a crush and then have a total breakdown about it, I’ll be ready to return the favor.” They took his hand in theirs. “Now c’mon, let’s get back out there before Izzy realizes we aren’t doing our jobs. Last thing I need right now is the emotional whiplash of him yelling at me.”

That night, Mo sat on deck, waiting for Izzy. They had pushed a crate over to the railing so they could perch on it, looking out over the sea and the way the moonlight danced on the water. Before too long, they heard the fall of familiar footsteps.

“Hey, Iz,” they said, not bothering to turn around. “Isn’t the water beautiful tonight?”

Izzy sat down next to them. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He cleared his throat. “I overheard Wee John telling Bonnet about you running off with your mate Frenchie earlier today. He said you seemed upset.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “I guess I wanted to see if you were alright.” He glanced over, but Mo still did not turn towards him.

Instead, they looked down at their hands as they fiddled with their ring. Normally, Izzy noticing that they were upset and asking about them would make them feel over the moon, but tonight it felt like a cruel joke. The moment they realized what they wanted, something that could never be, that’s when he started being nice.

Mo sighed. “Yeah,” they said flatly. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just had a rough day.” They finally glanced over at Izzy, who hadn’t broken his stare. “Sorry for dragging Frenchie away from his work, and abandoning my own job. It won’t happen again.”

Izzy furrowed his brow. “It’s alright,” he said, uncharacteristically offhandedly. “What happened to make today rough, if you don’t mind me asking?” His voice was so gentle, it made Mo want to cry. He cleared his throat. “If something is happening among the crew to cause stress, I need to know. Part of the job.”

Mo could feel the muscles in their shoulders tighten, their jaw clenching. They could feel the emotions bubbling up, but they had no choice but to stomp them down. Izzy wouldn’t understand. Any big emotions scared him, and this emotion would have him jumping over the railing to get away.

“I’m sorry,” Mo managed, voice shaking. “I-I can’t talk about it. It’s all just…a bit much right now.” They sniffled. “So, you ready for our lesson?” they asked weakly, desperate to change the subject. “I was thinking maybe we could try fist fighting again.”

Izzy frowned, studying their face closely. “You sure you’re up for that?” he asked after a few seconds. “If you’re not feeling well, we don’t have to train tonight. Like you said, we shouldn’t be wearing ourselves ragged.” Mo smiled weakly. “So now you’re using my own advice against me? Low blow, Izzy.”

Izzy gave a small smile. “Anything to keep you from hurting yourself.” His words felt like a knife in their heart as they clambered off the crate onto their feet. “Please, Iz, just fight me. A little pain might actually ground me right now.” They chuckled sadly. “It’s better than getting piss drunk. Or at least I think it is.”

Izzy sighed tiredly, looking out over the ocean. The sad sound tugged at Mo’s heartstrings.

“Is there anything else that would ground you?” he asked, looking at them intently. “Something that wouldn’t break your ribs?”

Mo shrugged. “Nothing that I’ve found,” they answered honestly. “It’s always either been fighting or, when it gets really bad, drinking. I know it’s probably not the best coping in the world, but it’s better than mindless sex or drugs.” They paused, sighing. “Again, that’s my guess. I’ve never been one for either, but who knows.”

Izzy stood up from the crate, an odd look on his face as he walked to stand in front of Mo. He gazed down at them, his expression nervous but determined. He slowly stepped forward, closing the gap between them as he leaned down to kiss them.

The kiss was soft at first. Feeling Mo kiss him back, Izzy wrapped his arms around them, pulling them closer as their hands went to the back of his neck. Very quickly it grew in intensity until the two were struggling to breathe, each unwilling to pull away first from their frenzied embrace. Izzy’s hands went down to settle on Mo’s waist, and Mo pulled back, breaking the kiss.

“Wait, wait,” they stammered, panting gently. “What is this?” they asked, their voice quiet as they searched his face for answers.

Izzy’s expression was soft as he looked down at them. “It’s what you need.” He leaned back down, recapturing their lips.

Mo pushed against Izzy’s chest, forcing him away and breaking the kiss.

“No, no, no, no. I can’t do this, Izzy! Not-not with you!”

He pulled back, hurt flashing across his face.

“I’m sorry, it’s not what you think,” they rushed to explain. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just, I- I can’t do this with you!”

He swallowed hard, using one hand to smooth his hair back. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice low and gruff. “I must have misread the situation.” He tried to walk away, but Mo reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back.

“Izzy, no! It’s not what you think, it’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t!” “Why?!” he demanded, stepping closer to look down at them. “If it’s really not what I think, then what is it?”

Mo faltered. This wasn’t something that should just be blurted out. They tried to speak, but the words got stuck in their throat, leaving them squeaking and fumbling over words.

“For fuck’s sake, Mo! Just spit it out already!” A spark of anger ignited in Mo’s chest, burning away at their caution. “This is for your sake, asshole!” Mo spat. “I’m trying to find the right way to say it so I don’t freak you out, but I guess that’s unavoidable because you have no fucking patience! So you wanna know what it is?”

Izzy nodded, holding his arms out to the side. His face was red with anger as he glared at them.

“I have fucking feelings for you, you dick!” They faltered, their anger fading away. “I just…I can’t do this with you and then pretend in the morning that I don’t want to stay with you. I can’t do that and then just be friends, or colleagues, or whatever the fuck it is you’ve been calling whatever we are. I can’t be that close to having everything I want just to walk away in the morning and pretend like I’m fine.” They sighed, covering their face with their hands. They breathed heavily, slowly realizing the weight of what they had just revealed.

“Look,” Mo said, slowly peeling their hands back down, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt that out to you. You don’t have to say anything. Well, maybe something.” They chuckled halfheartedly. “You-you don’t have to feel any pressure, is what I meant. I get it, you’re…not like me.”

Mo glanced up at Izzy. His face was stony, impossible to read. His eyes flitted around, his mind clearly going a mile a minute even as he stayed frozen in place.

“Iz?” they asked cautiously. “Please say something. Anything. Or punch me. Just…something, please.” Izzy stayed silent, refusing to look Mo in the eye.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke, still averting his eyes.

“Did Spriggs put you up to this?” His voice was flat, all fight gone from it.

“W-what?” Mo stammered out. “No, Lucius doesn’t even know. I mean, he might suspect something, since he’s basically a psychic when it comes to stuff like this, but I haven’t told him. The only one who knows is Frenchie, and that’s just because I had a public fucking meltdown on deck today about it.” They faltered. “Why would you think someone put me up to this?” Izzy’s mouth tightened, locking his jaw as he turned his face away.

Mo’s heart dropped. “Oh, Izzy,” they whispered. “I’m not saying this for anyone else. I promise, this is real. All of these fucked up emotions are mine.” They slowly reached out, ignoring the way their hand shook, and cupped his cheek, turning his face to look at them. “I promise, Iz.” His eyes, normally either ice cold or shooting daggers, were vulnerable. His face was guarded, but his eyes betrayed him, the sheen showing nothing but fear and hurt. His mustache twitched as they looked at him, betraying the nerves he was working so hard to hide. He looked devastated.

Mo dropped their hand, looking down at their feet. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” they said under their breath. “I’m such a fucking idiot. Look, we can just forget this whole thing,” they proposed. “I-I’ll just go to bed. It’ll be like this never happened. And if you want to stop out night lessons…I get it.” They ignored the prickling in their eyes, fiddling with a drawstring on their pants absent mindedly.

Fighting to keep their last bit of courage, they slowly forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well, Izzy,” they whispered, blinking away tears as they pulled back.

Mo made it through the door leading into the lower area of the ship before the tears began to fall. They forced themselves to keep walking, refusing to give in to the urge to just lean against the hallway wall and sob. They finally made it to the doorway of the crew’s sleeping quarters, forcing their breathing to return to normal and their shoulders to stop shaking before opening the door.

They crept through the crowded room to curl up next to Frenchie. The tall man stirred when he felt Mo tugging gently at a blanket, and shifted over, holding the blanket up for them to slide under. He first noticed the streaks of tears when they sat down, gently brushing away the salt water as Mo laid their head on his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around them, playing with their hair and gently shooshing them as they shook with emotion. It took at least half an hour for them to stop trembling and sniffling, and at least another hour before they were able to drift into an uneasy sleep.

Greetings!

I’m Professor Blair S. Tenaza (she/her), and I’m now the head researcher at the Holon Research Tower, located in Holon City in, you guessed it, the Holon region! Our topics of interest at the HRT are as follows:

Find and study the mythical Pokémon Mew

Research the effects of electromagnetism both on the region and on its Pokémon, including and especially Delta Pokémon

Develop and refine artificial equivalents to existing Pokémon (this task primarily falls to our lead roboticist and his team)

Now, I’ll share a brief primer on Delta Species and Holon, as I know that is certainly the least known aspect of our research here. Originally, Holon was a region devoid of people. It wasn’t especially habitable for humans, and so Pokémon were its sole inhabitants. Then my predecessor came along and established Holon City and the HRT, specifically in pursuit of Mew. His machinery used in the search emitted electromagnetic waves on a scale previously unheard of, even beyond the special magnetic fields found in places like Mount Coronet and Chargestone Cave.

Prolonged exposure to these extreme waves altered the Holon ecosystem permanently, resulting in many Pokémon permanently obtaining different typings and mannerisms. Some of these Pokémon, remarkably, are recognizable as extant regional forms! For example, Kantonian, Alolan, and Galarian Meowth are all native to Holon now, where before only the Kantonian variety existed, and Cyndaquil evolved here become the once thought lost Hisuian form of Typhlosion. Many other Pokémon took on entirely new forms, such as the Gardevoir family becoming Psychic/Steel-types, and exposing a male Kirlia to a dawn stone produced an entirely new Psychic/Dark-type Pokémon known as Callord. For these altered Pokémon, the designations Delta Species (for all) and Holonnite (for the unique ones) were introduced.

These accidental changes to the environment were seen as both fascinating and concerning, and studies on their full impact were launched. It was quickly deduced that not only would removing the electromagnetic waves not revert these Pokémon to their previous forms, but that doing so would be detrimental to their health. Furthermore, it was discovered at this time that the islands off the coast of Holon’s mainland, distant from Holon City’s emissions, also held Delta Species. Prism Island was laden with crystals that seemed to be producing Delta Species, which briefly drew comparison to the Terastal phenomenon before further research confirmed no true link. Meanwhile, the further-out Scale Archipelago was found to be a nesting ground for Dragon-like Pokémon, and home to new forms that were determined to be natural Holonnite variations.

And that more or less covers the basics! I can get into Holonnite geography another day for those curious, but I think this post is plenty long already. Just know that those early days of research were nearly 20 years ago, now, and much of the staff here at the HRT has changed since then. We feel very strongly about not altering Holon’s ecosystem any further, and work hard to ensure the continued health of all people and Pokémon in Holon.

Finally, allow me to introduce the Pokémon I keep as research aides!

Claire the Castform. She helps me with studying the weather here in Holon, which has also been impacted.

Sprout the Holonnite Meganium (Grass/Ground). He’s great at judging the health of plant life, another important aspect of our impact.

Trace the Holonnite Smeargle (Normal/Ghost). He sketches anything I need documented, which is great because it can be hard to take pictures here in Holon. There’s solutions, but I just find him much more reliable.

Beacon the Artificial Starmie (Water/Steel). One of our robotics team’s creations. It’s extremely reliable for taking electromagnetic readings, and a trustworthy ride if I need to do work out on Holon Lake or along the coast, above water or below!

Shade the Alolan Persian. She’s my tracker. If I’m looking for a specific Pokémon, she’s almost always able to hunt it down. I chose her over the other Meowth variations present here because her Dark typing further helps in keeping a low profile to observe wildlife.

Magnus the Scorlev (Electric/Flying, evolution of Holonnite Gligar). He’s my aerial transport, and incredibly in-tune with Holon’s electromagnetic field. There’s quite a few options here for those needs, but what sets him apart is that Holonnite Gligar are a natural Delta Species from the Scale Archipelago!

Plus Zed, my PoryPhone. We use PoryPhones here in Holon because Porygon are native and already proven unaffected by the extreme electromagnetism. We actually impose some fairly strict regulations here in order to protect visitors’ Pokémon, and that includes barring entry for many species which might be impacted by Holon’s unique conditions.

OOC

Oops! I made another one! This time it’s inspired by the Holon region, an official setting from the TCG in back 2005! With my own personal twists, of course. I made a big list of Pokémon known to officially be in Holon (regular or Delta), and then did some minor retcons if a Delta Species resembled an existing regional variant. For any missing evolutions (released in Gen 4 or later) I’ve invented entirely new evolutions to replace them, and for any existing Delta Species that didn’t match a regional variant, I’ve devised a new Holonnite variant matching the card game’s typing. Unlike in the TCG, it’s not just a glow of energy, but a whole new form

And yes, Blair is aware what else HRT stands for. It’s something of an internal joke at the Tower because a sizable portion of the team, herself included, is trans :)

My main blog is @tlblitz, and I also run @tlblitzle, @zenith-exploration-guild, and @squallsong-survival

More Wei Ying writing.

I finished a chapter for Dreams of Paradise. (#MDZS fanfic) Here’s a sample. (It’s from chapter 5. If you want to know what happened before that, You’ll have to go to AO3. ☺️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43934754

Leaving Wei Wuxian to cause trouble for someone else, Wen Qing wandered down to a side of the lake a ways away from the buildings. The ground was sandy and flat enough to make a nice beach once they removed the debris and branches scattered about. She gathered her skirts to her legs and knelt to clear a space wide enough to work.

After taking an inventory of the village, they had found their haven had beautiful, sturdy buildings, plenty of fertile land with several rows of vegetables already growing, fruit trees, and rice fields. All of this was so much better than anything they had before – shelter, water, and food. And sunshine, an abundance of sunshine.

Still, they had no furniture, no beds or blankets. They didn’t even have one scrap of paper or any ink. As for dishes, it had taken the whole morning for some of the others to make some bamboo bowls and chopsticks. She chuckled with fond exasperation. Leave it to the walking disaster to create a home without the basics for daily living. 

For now, some of her family were working on building seats and tables while others wove sleeping mats from the reeds and long grasses. Still others gathered raw clay to make a couple of crude woks to cook congee, though the makeshift rice steamer Popo had made from bamboo that morning worked fairly well.  

As she thought, she made a list of supplies, carving the words in the sand. If her new didi was right and they did find gold, it would save them having to think of other ways to provide for themselves. Yes, she could collect medicinal plants and sell them. They could also sell some of their crops too. However, there were more important issues they needed to deal with without having to scrounge up enough money for proper supplies. They needed blankets, cups, teapots, and material for new clothes. 

She ran her fingers over her Wen hanfu, tracing the gold and red trim. These were the colours she wore until she died in flames. The memory of the fire licking up her clothing until it burned into her flesh made her close her eyes, though tears still escaped as panic overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked side to side.

 Despite the new life, images of her former existence hovered on the edge of her awareness. In the quiet peace of the beach, they spilled forth, and she couldn’t stop them. Instead, she let the ache deep in her bones pour out, burying her moans of sorrow in her sleeves. The material covering her body was the stark reminder of a world that abandoned her, abused her family, and branded her as evil because of her name. She never felt more naked in her entire life.

Wen Qing had no idea how long her sobs went on. After she depleted her tears, she stared at the gentle waves slipping between the shore and the lake, mind numb, unable to process anything more. 

“A-Qing?”

The sound of Popo’s voice brought Wen Qing back to reality.

“Here,” she responded, before splashing her face with water. The cool, clean liquid cleared her head and re-established her defenses. People needed her. She could process any pain later.

From behind, warm arms wrapped around her after she stood to greet her elder. “Mmm. My child, my beautiful angel, there’s no need to hide from your family. You have always been so strong for all of us, sacrificing so much to keep us safe.”

The woman’s gentle voice slipped in and settled in the emptiness inside. She sighed and sank into Popo’s embrace, letting them both stand there, swaying in unison to the melody her elder hummed in her ear.

After a while, Popo turned her around and put her hands on either side of Wen Qing’s face. “Better?”

She nodded, weary, though somehow stronger.

“Good. Now, we’ve made a list of supplies needed. Your third aunt smoothed out some pieces of bark and used a charcoal stick to write it all down. We’ve also made a list of possible income resources whether or not our miracle worker comes up with anything.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Honestly, that boy.”

“I am afraid for him,” Wen Qing admitted, her mind turning back to the state of his core. “What he did,” she shook her head, “it is unprecedented, as far as I know. To combine spiritual energy with resentful and earth energy, it should be impossible except I think the Tiger Seal altered him.”

Since she was once a healer in her own right in her youth, Popo wasn’t completely lost at Wen Qing’s comments. “Altered him, how?”

She took a deep breath, “I’m not sure he’s actually alive.”

Wen Qing’s elder’s face paled. “What do you mean? Is he like Wen Ning was, a fierce corpse?”

“No. Not a fierce corpse,” she replied, unsure how to explain what she meant. “He’s not dead but I think he’s Wei Wuxian, the Burial Mound, and the Tiger Seal all in one. He’s tied to this land, and I’m not sure he can leave it for long without suffering ill effects or ceasing to exist.”

Popo brought her hand to her mouth, worry evident in her expression. “He already went into Yiling and came back fine.”

This was true, yet did not negate her theory. “He wasn’t gone long or far. I would have to go with him and monitor him to see just how he is affected by a separation from this paradise he created.”

A sour chuckle escaped her lips. “He does things without any regard for what it might do to himself. I don’t know whether that is honourable or selfish.”

“It’s annoying, is what it is,” Popo told her with a frustrated frown. “He’s not going to like being unable to leave.”

“He’s going to pout is what he’s going to do: pout, whine, complain, and generally make a nuisance of himself,” she corrected, leading her elder back toward the village. 

“Well, let’s keep him busy for now until we know more.” 

Wen Qing nodded, frustrated by her lack of knowledge and resources. Ever since she met Wei Wuxian, her life had become a constant mire of uncharted territory. Yes, he was a genius, a genius whose brain worked faster than his self-preservation. Boundaries were just another challenge to him. 

“Life might have been easier on him if he had any sense of self-worth.”

Popo patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll have to help him work on that.”

The thing about Fritz Wittelsbach is that he thought of the world as a rotten place and he was able to see beauty only in 3 things:

His rose garden, which he planted according to his tastes and was his refuge

Julia's virtue

The princess' beauty

He had a twisted sense of justice that made him believe he was right above any mortal circumstance, feeling no remorse when he murdered his own brother, thinking he was doing the right thing in its purest form. All the system he lived in was corrupt in its roots.

Supposedly, all this perspective changed when he met Julia, thinking she was able to make the world that would have avoided him doing what he did, a world in which the system would have punished his brother's crime. He saw her rule as a path to his wish. That's why he was willing to work for her.

But again, supposedly, his perspective would change again after meeting the princess. After being a witness of her sincere kindness, little by little he would think that the world can be changed through gentleness and compassion, and not through violence and resentment. Thinking that Julia and the Princess could combine their charm together, the world would finally reach the point of his dreams, even if he at last understands that it would mean he deserved to be punished in the end. He accepts this final punishment as long as his wish is fulfilled.

Fritz was created to be the Princess' love interest, and so he was destined to fall in love with her at some point. While towards Julia he held a feeling of adoration and duty, he was a fantasy of blind loyalty.

I made him with all these nuances. I feel sad my contribution, that was more than a simple contribution (I created the entire base of the character, including the background and physical looks) has been erased this way. I've been erased of many others, being the Princess the one which hurts me the most, since she was basically a self-insert of myself that I designed and created according to my tastes and was the initial base for Pallas, so the author attributing the character creation to herself is painful beyond words, but I've tried to solve it with her privately with no answer, so I guess I will have to learn to live with that.

Here is some of the art I made many years ago that prove the romantic involvement of these two back then.

I have a lot more of it that prove my strong involvement in the project, which as I say, it has been quite unfairly erased and my work uncredited, but even if it hurts me in the personal side, I can't say it has any influence in any of my current stories or projects, so it doesn't really has any impact anymore in my life. I even see the current project held by the author as a fun "derivative work" of my own and so I feel somehow attached to it, but I see it from very far away. I'm glad my past work has helped someone, even if that someone lies about its origin and roots.

Being quiet about this issue in the name of peace was hurting me to a bad extent, and since I feel it poisons my heart and taints my other good experiences, I think is good I purge it out of my system somehow. If I say this is not to attack anyone or ask for anything, but to heal myself. To be honest, I don't mind about Fritz, because I even gave the character to the author as a proof of good will, since she was attached to it, and so I guess I gave her the right to shape it to her likings. But the presence and use of the princess feels like a needle in my chest yet, because I somehow see her so unnecesary in the current storyline the author made... I feel she could have been simply removed, and the story would still work. Basically I see the author sticks so much to the other characters and I don't see any trace of the "beautiful friendship" she mentions anywhere. She has drawn and talked the other characters a lot, but yet she hasn't mentioned any interaction between both the princess and the protagonist, let alone I have seen yet any drawing of them together. As if doing it hurts her someway. And so it makes me feel that the Princess is truly unnecesary. Maybe I'm wrong, but from the outside, that is what I feel, and makes me feel that the princess presence in that story it's more a matter of pride and stubbornness than anything else.

In any case, if this is something I have to live with, I would prefer to talk about it. I don't even feel it as a grudge, I don't want to attack, I don't want to hurt.

I just want to heal.

Since some people have expressed an interest (thank you so much for the kind words and encouragement), here is the Horizon A/B/O world building I'm doing for my Kotaloy fic.

Here and here are the basic rules for how my homebrew may differ from other people's Omegaverse stuff. It's not a necessary read for the world building to be fun, but it might help to know where I'm coming from while I'm brainstorming.

Ok, now that we all have access to the sandbox we can get to the actual world building.

Old Ones

Alphas and Omegas were a small percentage of humanity, though Alphas did marginally outnumber Omegas. Genetic marker testing at birth and prescribed suppressants were the norm for both designations by the early 1990s. Their instinctual behaviors were considered useless at best, detrimental at worst, in a "modern society". By the start of the Faro Plague, they were basically treated like a cured disease, though certain social stigmas remained in the older populations. Mostly, western society was to the point where they barely associated the designations with the Greek letters assigned to them, as can be seen in the naming conventions for Project Zero Dawn. (In my story, Elisabet Sobeck was an Omega herself, but it had very little impact on her life.)

The Zeniths, unsurprisingly, took this mentality even further, seeking to remove any "animal" traces whatsoever. (Hey, you thought the Zeniths naming their Sobeck clone Beta was dehumanizing before? Now it has a dual meaning of being both a replacement and an animal, but not even the right one because they just don't care. Seriously, fuck those guys.) Whatever procedures, surgeries, cybernetics, and gene therapy they used to obtain immortality stripped away what the tribes on earth would consider to be their humanity, to the point where Zeniths don't even have scents, let alone designations. Because of these missing elements, they are even more alien and off-putting to Aloy and crew. (Was Tilda, once upon a time, a tall, willowy Alpha who, as suppressants got rarer and less important in the face of annihilation, got super obsessed with an Omega who wouldn't give her the time of day? Who can say? Me... I can.)

(Also, the Zeniths had Beta on suppressants. They couldn't mess with her biology and still have her be a viable Sobeck replacement, so they went with the "primitive" method. Poor little gal is dealing with a lot in that basement.)

So, the Old Ones and Zenith harken back to how a whole lot of A/B/O tropes compare A/Os to animals, specifically wolves due to the werewolf roots of the AU, but large predators in general. This is frequently done in a negative light, as though their "animalistic tendencies" make them less human. However, in the current story, humans exist in a world where they are literally the only major natural predator. Wolves, bears, big cats, crocodilians, sharks, all of them are extinct. Even the larger prey animals no longer exist. Machines don't provide the same kind of comparisons, because they fulfill their functions and do nothing else. They don't have mating drives or pheromone communication or territorial displays. With the disconnect from the previous world's information and cultural biases, most humans have nothing showing them that these behaviors are anything other than completely human.

Tribes

Since barely anyone even talked about designations by the time of the Faro Plague, the language now surrounding A/B/Os is completely different. Among the descendants of ELEUTHIA-9, the most common shared terms are for heat (fervor) and rut (frenzy). Beyond that, most tribes have their own terms for the designations and their own beliefs about what they mean in society. I'm still working on some of them, but here's what I have right now.

Nora

Guardian (Alpha) - Biggest, strongest, fiercest. Generally expected to be Braves and serve as protectors of the tribe and the Sacred Lands, but not forced into those roles if their skills lie elsewhere.

Pillar (Beta) - The structure on which the tribe is upheld. Pillars are considered stable and secure.

Hallowed (Omega) -In a culture that reveres the act of bearing a child as a reflection of their Goddess, Omegas are sacred. (Which is why it's hilariously unfortunate for the Nora that Aloy was outcast. Teersa wanted to strangle Lansra when she found out how Aloy had presented.)

The Nora believe that A/Os carry within themselves a spirit, imparted by the Goddess, which guides and protects them. A/O mated pairs are the only permanent relationships practiced by the tribe, as they believe such pairs strengthen the tribe as a whole. True Mates are the ultimate ideal in that regard and celebrated as a blessing from All-Mother. Omegas are also the only child bearers who are not restricted in the number of children they can have, because their wombs are extra sacred, y'all.

Carja

Perihelion (Alpha) -The closest to the Sun. Particularly blessed with power, but this also makes them dangerous and hard to control. Female Perihelion enjoy a position of power and freedom unknown to most Carja women, though it is a strained arrangement.

Aphelion (Omega) -The farthest from the Sun. Aphelion throw a bit of a wrench in the works within Carja society. Child bearers having such overtly aggressive tendencies upsets their social mindset. Unmated Aphelion are generally sequestered away in their parents' homes or in communes, kept happy and relaxed so as to not give them a reason to actually participate in society. Unmated Perihelion are permitted to visit the communes once a season to seek out a mate, if they so desire. Mated Aphelion are under the care and supervision of their mates.

The Carja have no distinct term for Betas. They have only labeled the outliers.

(I'll be the first to admit, I don't have a great opinion of the Carja as a culture where sex and gender are concerned. I can only see them being even worse by adding yet another layer of complexity to it. I know they're working on it, but dang.)

Oseram

Cope (Alpha)

Core (Beta)

Drag (Omega)

I tired. I tried, y'all, but world building for this tribe did not release the happy chemicals and it's entirely because I don't want to play in their playground. It's overtly sexist and I did not have fun trying to fit my A/Os into a culture where someone can own their spouse. Most of the Oseram characters we meet are lovely people and I'll keep working on it, but oof. All credit to my husband for their terms, which are from the metal casting process.

Banuk

Ideas for this tribe have been hard for me to pin down. While I firmly believe that A/Os would have an advantage in their purely skill based culture due to greater strength and heightened senses, the intrinsic individualism of the tribe doesn't really work with the pack bonds/mated bonds that A/Os instinctually pursue. I have literally done no concrete world building for them except that Sylens is a Beta and smarmy about it. He's far too busy and important for simple instincts to be getting in his way, you know.

Utaru

The Utaru don't make a distinction between any of the designations. Everyone is either seed or soil, no matter how potent the seed or fertile the soil. They can appreciate Alpha strength and Omega nurturing, but as a culture, they don't differentiate. Everyone is just human.

Tenakth

Storm Souls -Storms are the sky, the battlefield of the Ten, come down to earth; uncontrollable, frequently dangerous, essential for life. The Tenakth consider A/Os to be "storm touched" and hold them in high regard for their strength and skill. They are generally very accepting of the more aggressive A/O traits compared to most other tribes and actually got the whole "cannibal" stigma because their A/Os will absolutely use their fangs in battle. While there are no separate terms for Alphas and Omegas, mates will frequently refer to each other as coinciding parts of a storm, I.E. Thunder/Lightning, Wind/Snow, Clouds/Rain. When in periods of increased instinctual behavior, such as heats/ruts/massive adrenaline rushes, they are said to be "closer to" or "touching the storm". Because of their affiliation, Stormbirds are particularly sacred to Tenakth A/Os, alongside Sunwings in the greater cultural context.

(You will pry Warrior Poet Tenakth from my cold, dead hands. Have you heard how most of them talk!?)

Quen

Of all the current known tribes, the Quen are the closest to pre-apocalypse terms and mindsets concerning designations, though they do not have the ability to produce suppressants. (Beta being named Beta was sort of baffling to Alva.)

Various bits and bobs

True Mates

Due to the relative scarcity of Omegas and the insular nature of the tribes, True Mates are actually extremely rare and most people don't resign themselves to searching forever for someone they may never find. Strong emotional attachments and physical attraction are considered completely normal and, by far, the most common way relationships are formed.

This is why people are ok with flirting with Aloy despite not being perfectly matched to her. She's rad and they find her rightfully appealing.

Aloy, on the other hand, was raised with the vague understanding that somewhere out there was her Mate and that she'd know them when she found them so, even though she has no idea what that actually means, she doesn't even try to shop around. She's also socially awkward, not particularly interested, and really is too busy, anyway.

Sobecks

I pondered for a long time what designation Aloy, Beta, and Elisabet would be in my story, because I could easily see them working as any of them. I love me the Tall/Small I've built into my Alpha/Omega pairings but I tossed around the idea of trying my hand at writing an Alpha/Alpha Kotaloy for a bit. What sold me on the Sobecks being Omegas, however, was honestly sheer pettiness for getting completely creeped out by the Faro's Tomb mission again on my current playthrough. Just the idea that Ted Faro was a stereotypical Alpha's Alpha who was ludicrously proud of his own greatness and he had to shipwreck aaaaall that pride on the rocks of begging an Omega for help with the Faro Plague. Meanwhile, Elisabet barely even registered that he was melting down over bullshit gender norms that hadn't mattered since before either of them was born and went straight to finding a solution to his fuck up. *chef's kiss*

The Many Surprising Uses for Household (White) Vinegar:

People have been using vinegar for thousands of years for everything from food preservation to sanitation! There have even been traces of vinegar found in ancient Egyptian tombs dating as far back as 3000 B.C.! Discover how this one simple household staple is worth more than gold. Learn its many uses and how to make your own. Here are some of the many reasons why you should never be without vinegar. 1. Disinfect wood cutting boards. 2. Soothe a sore throat; use 1 tsp of vinegar per glass of water, then gargle. 3. Fight dandruff; after shampooing, rinse hair with vinegar and 2 cups of warm water. 4. Remove warts; apply daily a 50/50 solution of cider vinegar and glycerin until they’re gone. 5. Cure an upset stomach; drink 2 tsp apple cider vinegar in one cup of water. 6. Polish chrome. 7. Keep boiled eggs from cracking; add 2 tbsp to water before boiling. 8. Clean deposits from fish tanks. 9. Remove urine stains from carpet. 10. Keep fleas off dogs; add a little vinegar to the dog’s drinking water. 11. Keep car windows from frosting up; use a solution of 3 oz. vinegar to 1 oz. water. 12. Clean dentures; soak overnight in vinegar and then brush. 13. Get rid of lint in clothes; add 0.5 cup vinegar to rinse cycle. 14. Remove grease from suede. 15. Kill grass on sidewalks and driveways. 16. Make wool blankets softer; add 2 cups distilled vinegar to rinse cycle. 17. Remove skunk odor from a dog; rub fur with full strength vinegar and rinse. 18. Freshen wilted vegetables; soak them in 1 tbsp vinegar and a cup of water. 19. Dissolve mineral deposits in drip coffee makers, water related appliances and water pipes descaling (video) 20. Deodorize drains; pour a cup down the drain once a week, let sit for 30 minutes, then rinse. 21. Use as a replacement for a lemon; 0.25 tsp vinegar substitutes for 1 tsp of lemon juice. 22. Make rice fluffier; add 1 tsp of vinegar to water once it begins to boil. 23. Prevent grease build-up in ovens; wipe oven with cleaning rag soaked in distilled vinegar and water. 24. Kill germs; mix a 50-50 solution of vinegar and water in a spray bottle. 25. Clean a clogged shower head.; pour vinegar into a zip-lock bag and hang it around the shower head. let it soak overnight to remove any mineral deposits. 26. Shine patent leather. 27. Remove the moldy smell from laundry that has been left in the washer too long; pour 1 cup of vinegar in with the load and rewash it. 28. Make propane lantern wicks burn longer/brighter; soak them in vinegar for 3 hours, let dry. 29. Act as an air freshener. 30. Soften paint brushes; soak in hot vinegar then rinse with soapy water. 31. Remove old, outdated, or unwanted bumper stickers and decals; simply cover them with vinegar-soaked cloth for several minutes. 32. Prolong the life of fresh-cut flowers; use 2 tbsp of vinegar and 3 tbsp of sugar per quart of warm water 33. Prevent Mildew; Wipe down shower walls with a vinegar solution. 34. Soften calloused feet; soak your feet in a mixture 50/50 mixture of vinegar and water for 30 minutes then scrub them with a pumice stone. The dead skin should slough off easily. 35. Treat Acne; start with a solution of organic apple cider vinegar and water at a ratio of 1:8, apply the toner to blemishes and leave on a minimum of 2 minutes. 36. Fertilizer 37. Fixative for dying clothing and DIY Ink. 38. Removes Body Odor Make/Grow Your Own Vinegar Anything that will ferment (turns to alcohol) will, eventually, turn to vinegar. Make a punch from anything containing sugar (berries, apples, grapes, etc.). Let it ferment, then leave it in the open air for a few weeks and it will turn to vinegar. Resources: Uses and Science of Vinegar [Reference Link]

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CorpoNation

This game is too smart for its own good.

I've always thought that satire is one of the hardest genres to pull off. But if any medium had the best chance at it, it would have to be video games and its multi-sensory nature. CorpoNation is a prime example of this. It's a dystopian life simulation game where you work as a lab technician inside of a corporate-owned state.

The game is split into work-life and pod-life. In the former, you're sorting through genetic samples and in the latter you're chilling in your small room. There's not much to do here besides play mini games, buy decorative items with the meagre amount of credits you earned, pay bills and then go to bed. The writing is interesting and witty. If you take the time to read the news and reply to your work buddies, there's some world building to uncover there. As you advance, you'll also come into contact with rogue workers attempting to make employees realise what a nightmare this situation actually is.

Visually, the game is only in shades of blue which creates that sense of same-ness and uniformity. It also makes traces of the rebellion really stand out as those are coloured in red. The music is genuinely cool if a bit creepy. If you buy the radio, you can play different tracks while you're in your pod.

If it hasn't become clear yet, a game that convincingly portrays the monotony of work, isn't all that fun. I didn't mind that the core mechanic - the sorting - was repetitive. I actually found it quite challenging when rules and conditions were added and removed as begins to play more like a memory game than just plainly putting samples into receptacles. I just wish there was more to do outside of work, and more interactivity happening inside the confines of our pod. This is wishful thinking since that's precisely the point they are trying to make. I found myself really looking for more communication from the rogue workers, a scandalous thought for my work buddy, basically anything at all that would make the days and the weeks less tedious. But these were too few and far between. Anything that digresses from the core capitalist narrative is pretty quickly extinguished.

I really like what the game stands for, the writing and the design of it. But if fun is fundamental to what makes a game good, CorpoNation does not receive full marks. The world itself intrigued me enough to want to keep going. I wonder if the developers will consider producing a short film animation that summarises the experience and expands the world a bit more.

CorpoNation is made by canteengames and published by Playtonic Friends.

Storyline: A Stunning Proposal

“How is my little Dahlia?” Odilia glanced up as Roland de Chalasse came striding into the private parlor of his ducal townhouse. He didn’t bother removing his leather gloves before taking her hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “Missing the anxiety of your Mont Nuit and the preparations for the Longest Night?” “No,” she said, a tiny smile on her face at the thought. “I am not missing that at all. These days spent here have been a balm for my mind.” “I may not be an adept, but I can manage the basics of resting and soothing.” She scoffed a little laugh, and he settled beside her on the couch with a theatrical groan. She smiled at him, asking archly, “Shall I have the servants stoke up the fires and prepare a hot bath to soothe your ancient bones?” “Hardly.” He snorted. “I am hardly in need of coddling. Not even by you, courtesan.” She feigned a blush, ducking her head in a show of false modesty that he didn’t believe and made it clear with another little snort under his breath. But her fingers absently toyed with the tooled leather of the book she had been reading during her morning of leisure, and she asked it quietly, “What news from court?” There was a long breath of silence, and she could feel his eyes on her. She didn’t look up, just traced the gilded designs stamped into the leather binding of the book on her lap. “The vultures continue circling,” he said at last, answering her quietly. “The Caerdicci are particularly intent. They bring their breeding stock out every chance they get to try to catch the king’s eye. Certainly they are lovely, but he doesn’t seem to be particularly interested in any of them. People are beginning to whisper.” She continued stroking the leather, determined not to react. “What else?” “They are insisting he make a decision soon. They say it has been long enough. He must choose a bride and a queen by the Longest Night. They have given him enough time to get to know them. A decision must be made.” “I know,” she whispered. It would break her heart, but she knew it would happen soon, she couldn’t deny that the day was coming. “I won’t stand in the way.” “I know you won’t,” Roland said, taking her foot and drawing it into his lap so he could rub her feet slowly. “But you have plenty of courtiers afraid that you will.” “I wouldn’t do that to him,” she said. “No matter what happens. I wouldn’t. I love him too much.” It felt strange to admit it to the Duc de Chalasse. How far had they come? She had thought he was her enemy, and she still wondered at times what his angle was, what he was getting out of their arrangement, but he had acted with honor, and she couldn’t ask for anything more than that. And strong and fit as he was, he was still past the prime of his life, a man with grown grandchildren. It was strange to find in him a compassionate soul after everything. Jocaste had warned her not to let him into her head, but there were times that she thought he was letting her into his first. And this assignation now, three days as his guest and courtesan in his home… A year ago, in her rage and fury, she had asked him to help her show the court that she did not have a soft heart, that she was a threat to the court, and he had delivered. Patron gifts, nights on the town, assignations. He favored her for all the City to see. But now with Gustav’s letter, with the very real possibility that she would lose him, her fire had dulled slightly. She had allowed a certain intimate honesty to rise between her and Roland. And there was warmth in his voice when he said, “I know you do, little Dahlia. That’s why you’re still such a threat.” “Because I love him?” “Because he loves you.” She finally looked up at him as he took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb against the back of her knuckles. His eyes were filled with sympathy. Not pity, he knew better than to hurt her pride like that. But he had seen how the court was pressing in on the young king, had known that if the king had his way, there wouldn’t be any question whom he would choose. And he knew she had been hurting, keeping it to herself, trying to prove herself strong and capable. There was so much in her that he recognised from his younger self. There was so much he could do to help her, if she would let him be so sentimental. “He does,” Roland continued. “He loves you. This choice is tearing him apart because he knows no matter what he chooses, he will lose. Follow his heart, and he loses power. Follow his head, and he loses you.” “I never wanted this for him.” “I know,” he said softly. “None of us want such hardship for the ones we love.” He reached out with his other hand, fingers brushing her chin to lift her face again, meeting her eyes. “I have grown very fond of you, Odilia. Far more fond than I had ever thought I would. I would help you, if you let me.” “How?” Elua, she looked young. Sadness and trust and hope all glittered in her eyes, and he knew she was a balm for his lonely soul. “We both know he must choose a wife, the kingdom needs a queen. We also both know he will struggle with this duty so long as you are available to him.” “What are you suggesting?” “As a courtesan of the Night Court, you have made your marque and all of the country knows what that marque indicates. That you are accepting of contracts. Even if he were to marry, he could still contract you through your House and continue to play at having you for his, even for a night.” He watched her brows pinch, seeing the way her dark eyes flicked between his, watching the thoughts race through her mind as she followed his logic. “As a married woman,” he said quietly, “He would not be able to cling to the hope of keeping you. It would break his heart, but he would move on stronger than before and determined to do his duty without…distraction.” “Married?” The word was almost silent as it passed her lips. He had stunned her, he knew, so he reached into his pocket to pull out the ring box. “I do not love you,” he said gently, “nor am I asking you to love me. Upon my death, the ducal title will pass to my son, I am not giving you a title of that magnitude. There are some traditions I still uphold, and my son has the right of the ducal lands upon my death. But…as my wife, you would have certain protections. You would be a Duchesse, so long as I am living, you would have a place at court where you could still play your games and influence the politics with your cunning mind. And he couldn’t keep you as his mistress without unbalancing the tenuous peace of the duchies.” He opened the ring box to show her the ring he had had made. A gold band with a topaz in the center, like the necklace he had given her, but tucked to the side of the topaz, was a small diamond. “I know he is the one in your heart,” Roland said, looking down at the design. “The diamond is for him. I acknowledge his place in your love. But the topaz is for me, for the opportunity and protections I can offer you.” “Roland, I…” “I don’t want an answer now,” he said. “There’s too much already weighing you down. But I ask that you think about it. Consider it in your grand game. Regardless of what you choose, the ring is yours. Wear it as my wife or as my courtesan, it’s a gift.” Read the full article

The Ultimate Guide to Bichon Frise Puppy Care

Bringing a new Bichon Frise puppy into your life is an exciting and fulfilling adventure. The Bichon Frise breed is known for its adorable appearance, friendly nature, and charming personality. These small dogs with their fluffy white coats and expressive eyes can steal anyone's heart. However, like any new addition to your family, caring for a Bichon Frise puppy requires knowledge, dedication, and a lot of love. In this comprehensive guide, we'll walk you through every aspect of Bichon Frise puppy care, from understanding the breed's origins to grooming, training, and health considerations.

Understanding the Bichon Frise Breed

The Bichon Frise is a delightful breed that traces its roots to the Mediterranean region. Originally bred as companions, these small dogs have a natural affinity for human interaction. Their friendly and affectionate nature makes them excellent family pets and wonderful companions for people of all ages. The Bichon Frise puppy is recognized for its distinctive coat, which is curly and white, giving them an almost teddy bear-like appearance. With their perky ears and playful demeanor, Bichon Frise puppies bring joy to any household they become a part of.

Creating a Comfortable Living Space

Preparing your home for a Bichon Frise puppy is an important first step in their care journey. Designate a cozy and safe area where your puppy can feel secure. A crate can serve as a den-like space that not only helps with potty training but also becomes a retreat where your puppy can rest and relax. Line the crate with soft bedding to make it inviting.

Incorporate appropriate toys to keep your Bichon Frise puppy mentally stimulated and engaged. Since these pups are social by nature, consider placing the crate in an area where they can still interact with family members. Puppy-proofing your home is crucial, as curious puppies are prone to exploring and chewing on anything within their reach. Remove any potential hazards or toxic substances and secure cords to prevent accidents.

Grooming and Coat Maintenance Tips

The Bichon Frise's luxurious coat is one of its most iconic features, but it requires consistent grooming to keep it looking its best. Regular brushing helps prevent tangles and mats, which can become uncomfortable for your puppy. Establish a grooming routine that includes brushing your Bichon Frise's coat at least a few times a week.

Professional grooming every 4 to 6 weeks helps maintain the coat's texture and appearance. During grooming sessions, pay special attention to the eyes. Bichon Frise puppies are prone to tear staining, so gently cleaning around the eyes can help prevent staining and keep your puppy looking fresh.

In addition to coat care, keep your puppy's nails trimmed to a comfortable length and clean their ears to prevent infections. Regular dental care, such as brushing their teeth or providing dental treats, is also important to maintain good oral health.

Training Strategies for a Well-Behaved Bichon Frise

Early training is essential to ensure your Bichon Frise grows into a well-mannered and obedient companion. Begin with basic commands such as "sit," "stay," "come," and "down." Use positive reinforcement techniques, such as treats, praise, and playtime, to reward your puppy for good behavior. Bichon Frises are intelligent and eager to please, making them responsive to positive training methods.

Socialization is another crucial aspect of training. Expose your Bichon Frise puppy to different people, animals, and environments from a young age. This helps them develop into confident and well-adjusted adults. Puppy socialization classes can provide structured environments for interaction and learning.

Finding a Bichon Frise Puppy

If you're looking to add a Bichon Frise puppy to your family, it's important to find a reputable source. While you might be tempted to search for phrases like "Bichon Frise for sale near me" or "Bichon Frise puppies for sale," it's crucial to prioritize ethical breeding practices and the well-being of the puppies. Reputable breeders prioritize the health and happiness of their dogs over profit.

Research potential breeders thoroughly. Ask for references, visit their facilities if possible, and inquire about the health testing they conduct on their breeding dogs. If adoption is an option you're considering, shelters and rescues can be wonderful places to find Bichon Frise puppies in need of loving homes.

Welcoming a Bichon Frise puppy into your life is a heartwarming and rewarding experience. By understanding the breed's characteristics, providing a safe and loving environment, focusing on proper nutrition and grooming, and committing to training and health care, you're setting the stage for a lifetime of happiness with your furry friend. Remember, a Bichon Frise's love and companionship are matched only by the care and attention you invest in their well-being.

For Science Ch. 5

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4

Words: 1781

Tags: angst, love, neediness, bathtub sex, he’s too big but (spoiler) we make it work.

It had been three days. Three long, agonizing days since Bruce slammed the front door and ran away. Yesterday he sent a text, asking if he could come home. Seeing his name light up your screen made your heart jump, so happy to know he was safe and coming back to you. You responded with an enthusiastic yes.

He’d never left like this before - you’d never had a fight or had a moment where his emotions took over so badly. Of course you’d welcome him back, you’d never worried he would hurt you. Not anymore - not since he’d found this new happy medium between his two personas. Bruce clearly wasn’t as confident.

It was hard having him gone for those first few days of your new job at the university, and you’d wished he’d been there to laugh at some of the silly mistakes you had made. His bellowing chuckles were some of your favorite noises in the world.

Pulling up the driveway after classes were through, you saw Bruce’s car parked back in its normal place. Your stomach flipped, unsure what to expect, although you were mostly excited to see him.

You quietly opened the back door, walking into the kitchen. Taking off your heels, you heard soft, muffled classical music and smelled lavender and citrus. You smiled, heading straight to the master bath. The door was cracked open slightly, and you could see the warm glow of candles dancing across the shiny tile walls.

You knocked quietly on the door and pushed it open gently, just enough to stick your head inside. “Bruce?”

Bruce’s head was resting against the cool tile behind him, his eyes closed and his breathing regular. He must have just fallen asleep, his large frame filling most of the oversized jacuzzi tub. “Bruce?” You whispered again, awakening him from his dream. His warm eyes met yours, taking a moment to focus and register that you were really there. “Y/N, I -“ Bruce rested his hands on the side of the tub, beginning to push himself up to greet you. “No, no - stay there, you look so peaceful.” You nervously played with the hem of your untucked blouse.

“May I?” You lifted your hands to the top buttons of your blouse, pausing for Bruce’s approval. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he nodded, adjusting his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. You proceeded in unbuttoning your crisp white shirt, setting it off to the side. Your back was turned to the submerged Bruce, but you knew the slight shimmy of your hips as you stepped out of your skirt and panties would excite him.

You backed yourself over to the edge of the tub, presenting your back to Bruce. He loved unclasping your bra for you. He took pride in being able to do it with just a flick of his finger, and seeing the tension leave your back and shoulders filled him with warmth. You moved the straps down your shoulders and dropped it to the floor, reveling in the ease of domestic life with Bruce - even in this uncomfortable silence.

Lowering yourself into the bubbles across from him, you sighed. The last few days had been hard on you, you were worried about Bruce, had started your new job, and had been brainstorming on ways to reverse your boyfriend’s physical predicament. You stretched your legs out in front of you, resting them against Bruce’s thighs. He took one foot in his large hand, rubbing the arch with gentle pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the wonderful release.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for how I reacted.” Bruce’s eyes were cast downwards in shame. “I was so upset with myself, I didn’t want to risk anything happening…” You interrupted him. “No, I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just happy you’re back.” You poked him with your other foot, asking him to do the same magic there as well.

“Where did you go?” You asked timidly, not sure you really wanted to know the answer. “I just went to the tower - Tony left my room as-is…just in case.” You made a noise of acknowledgement, your fingers idly playing with the bubbles that adorned your chest.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” Bruce extended a hand, inviting you to come closer. You accepted, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I was scared, Bruce.” He held your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

You kissed him fiercely, as if you wanted him to stop talking before he gave any excuses or reasons to leave again. You couldn’t help the whimpers leaving your chest, three days was a long time for you two to be apart.

Bruce’s cock throbbed against you, eliciting a groan from the large man. “I missed you so much,” he mumbled, nipping and sucking at your neck and collar bone. Moving to straddle his waist, Bruce’s hands found your hips, helping hold you steady.

“I wanna try - I think I can do it - I wanna try.” You ground your hips against his hardening length, your breaths already ragged and uneven. You knew it would hurt, but you wanted to do this for him. You were certainly wet enough. “No, I don’t wanna hurt you, don’t-“

You had your mind made up. Your much smaller hand took Bruce’s from his waist, bringing it to your core. “Stretch me out, please. I need you.” He could never resist you. Slowly inserting one large digit, knuckle by knuckle, his eyes were trained on you, closely monitoring for any inkling of pain or discomfort. You were feeling nothing of the sort. Your head was thrown back, the stretch sending delicious shockwaves through your limbs.

“One more, please” you breathed. “Y/N, I-“ You shot him a look, like daggers from your irises. “One. More. Please.” Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He adjusted his fingers, slowly adding a second, drawing a moan from deep inside you. “I think - I think I’m ready. Please - give it to me? Let me make you feel good. Please?”

“Baby, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just start here, you’re taking me so well, maybe next time, we gotta take it slow.” You whined, loudly, and bucked your hips down onto his two, thick fingers. The water of the tub splashed over the edge. “Don’t wan’ take it slow, Bruce. Wan’ you - your cock. Puhleeeaase, Bruce.”

“The minute anything starts to hurt, you have to tell me, okay? Promise?” You nodded your head vigorously before pulling him closer and kissing him in gratitude. Bruce slowly removed his digits, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing but the bath water.

Bruce’s eyes were dark with lust, but still maintained the warmth of his concern for you. He held your gaze as he aligned himself with your opening. Every millimeter seemed to take an hour, your breath hitching in your throat as you stretched further to accommodate him. Bruce held your hips tightly, trying to maintain control and composure as you took him so well. It had been years since he felt the velvety warmth of a woman around him.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to move slowly and methodically. You focused on your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth - pushing out whines and whimpers along the way. You attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Bruce pushed you back, wanting to keep an eye on you. “You’re doing so well, my girl, look at you.”

Looking down, you expected to see that he had completely bottomed out inside you, but there was plenty more left to go. His hand held the base, not allowing you to go any further, if that was even possible. You smiled up at him, so proud of yourself, feeling so full.

Bruce’s heart swelled - and he could finally relax knowing you were okay…better than okay really. You began to rock your hips, exploring your body’s limits, feeling the push and pull of Bruce against your walls. It was worth the effort.

You established a comfortable rhythm, riding him slowly, but forcefully. The waves of now lukewarm water splashed around you, adding to the symphony of delicious noises you both were making - the feelings sending you both into nonverbal bliss. Bruce began to tense, and you weren’t far behind. The only one with a free hand, you reached down to access your clit, quickly sending shockwaves of pleasure ripping through you. You clenched down on Bruce’s girth as you climaxed, sending him over the edge with you. His guttural growl sent vibrations through your skin as he filled you up for the very first time. You collapsed into him, every muscle giving out from the pain and exertion.

Bruce held your weakened body in his arms, both of you exhausted beyond belief. The tub had turned cold and you began to shiver. Concerned, he held you tightly with one arm while he used the other to push himself out of the bath. You clung tightly to his neck as he walked you to the bedroom. Placing your down gently, he dried you off with a towel and handed you your robe to snuggle up into before returning to clean up the bathroom. Once you were dressed, you crawled back to the pillows aligned neatly on your bed and waited for Bruce to return.

Wrapped up in your fluffy robe, you nuzzled into Bruce’s chest. “Can I ask you a question?” Your fingers idly traced his chest, droplets of water still gripping the coarse hairs on his sternum. Bruce grunted in the affirmative, his eyelids were heavy the minute his head hit the pillow. “If you could, you know, switch back. Would you?”

Bruce hummed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. Done some basic calculations, consulted with colleagues…but that was all before.”

“Before what?” You whispered, tipping your head to look up at him, his eyes still closed gently.

“Before you. Before our life together. Before I saw the way your eyes light up when I enter a room. You read about that sort of thing in books, right? But I never knew it was real. And me? Of all people? In this state?” You sat up, captivated by his words, tears welling up and blurring your vision. His eyes met yours, one hand tracing your spine, while the other held yours.

“So no. I’m not interested in changing back. I am Bruce Banner, I am the Hulk, and I love you.”

For Myself

Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.

obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work

Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick

Word Count: 2.4k

He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.

Worst of all, it insults you.

An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.

The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.

He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.

And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.

She begs for her life.

Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.

It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.

You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.

She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.

Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.

Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.

He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.

Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.

You're just as much his, as he is yours.

Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.

He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.

Something is wrong.

He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.

Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.

Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.

He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.

You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.

His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.

None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.

He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.

His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.

"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."

You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.

"You made the right call." He says. You always do.

He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.

A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.

The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.

One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.

Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.

When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.

He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.

The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.

Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.

He follows you, silent.

He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.

He doesn't join you in bed.

He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.

You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.

You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.

You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.

One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.

"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.

“What's the matter, pet?”

“I don't feel too good.” You say.

Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.

“I’ll get Uraume-”

“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”

He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.

He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.

He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.

His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.

When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.