#And I don't feel like backtracking all the way to the first area to get that Fighting Sentret so ground type it is!

[utsugi-ren]

Pokemon AlteRed really said fuck you if you chose the fire type starter huh

[violet-eng]

F!reader spoils Lil Dragon!Zhongli... at first | Fluff🧸 (with dragon)+ 🔞 (with human Zhongli)

🎨by: @nagarnia_art and @JeanGreyCG

Summary: You're doing some research in the woods, looking for certain minerals, when you feel some tiny tiny eyes staring at you. After Zhongli morpps from a dragon to a human, things get a bit... hot...

Tw: with human Zhongli smut 🔞, PIV. Insinuations of breeding season, with dragon Zhongli just some cute Dragon behavior bc I ended up traumatized after writing some angst.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ● ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your research is going well. Your reports to the Fontaine Science Institute were successful during your last expedition, earning you praise from your superiors. You have been living in Liyue for over six months. After learning about minerals that can emanate energy, you sought out information to educate yourself on the subject. 

The rocks in Liyue seem to have a memory, possibly due to the work of their Archon or as a natural result of high evolution and energetic vestiges from ancient wars. 

Zhongli, the Parlor consultant, had told you about a spot at the foot of a valley that might interest you, and you were amazed. You had no reason to doubt the man's wisdom. You had formed a deep bond of friendship with him because you admire his extensive knowledge about everything. You set off almost immediately. He had offered to accompany you, but you had refused because you prefer to do your research alone, surrounded by nature and away from the attractive distraction that Zhongli could become.

Your friend is attractive, in a way that you tried to express in your letters to your friends at Fontaine, but never succeeded. Your banal words and names do not do justice to the physique of this man of unshakable character, steely sense, and tenacious gaze. You could not bear to make a mistake in his presence during the expedition, not because you were clumsy, but because his figure moved your senses, your ground, and betrayed your own perceptions.

So, as you walk through a pleasant area of foliage, covered by the fierce, scorching rays of the sun, you decide to let your guard down, to take off your jacket and your gloves. You use a ribbon to tie up your hair as you walk on, arriving at the place Zhongli had shown you beforehand. The passage is strangely comfortable, very suitable for a quiet investigation, full of strange figures of small rocks of irregular and curious shapes.

Under the canopy of large trees, you spread out your arsenal of tools on the grass, put on your protective visors, and get to work. Sequencing the rock profile takes little time, your agile skills allowing you to avoid unnecessary pauses or clumsy backtracking typical of an amateur. Then you take the samples, tiny particles that do not alter the correct and productive nature that King Geo has protected for years, and while you wait for the filtering to finish, a strange sensation runs down your spine.

You had let your guard down during your experiment, letting the peaceful appearance of the place convince you, something very unprofessional on your part. So you turn to the side and feel a presence. Among the bushes, you spot a pair of curious little spheres, and you jump as the leaves rustle in the presence of an unknown being. 

A deep relief washes over you as the creature in question appears on the scene. A small dragon, microscopic in physiognomy compared to adult forms, with curious eyes and a golden tail twisted into a spiral. Its little paws make furrows in the ground, its face dejected, as if it had been caught doing something illegal.

"Little one, have you been watching me all this time?" You ask the cute little creature, who hides his head between his front paws, realizing he can't do it with his tail, which isn't long enough.

"Come here, don't be afraid of me," you whisper, approaching it cautiously, holding out your hands.

The dragon gathers itself in its own anatomy, growling low, sounding almost like a common cat, you can't help but laugh at it. You bring your fingers up to the growling pellet and stroke its head, right between its underdeveloped horns. You notice a puff of breath coming from the little guy's nose.

"How cute, you liked that, didn't you?" you laugh as you stroke his head and then his back, causing the miniature dragon's tail to wag.

"Come, sit with me, we'll have to wait a long time until the filtering is finished," you take him in your hands, on your palms.

"Wow... I've never seen one of your species so small... and those scales," you comment, bringing your face close to the reptile's, "I'd swear you have very, very soft skin, you're very rare, uh," you add, while you turn to your tools, which emit a strange smell.

You leave the dragon on the ground and approach your machinery, no, nothing out of place... well, now you can turn your attention to the little guy who... what is he doing?

You notice the tiny creature rubbing against your foot, making strange squeaks. It's... it's mating with your shoe? You burst out laughing and shake your foot, pushing it away and picking it up again.

"You horny little bugger," you say, poking him in the nose, "I forgot that your species is in mating season. I regret to inform you that you will get nowhere with me, I am not of the same species... ours is impossible."

A sad sigh escapes from the little animal's chest, and you notice how its whole face becomes depressed, its horns and ears seem to droop in deep disappointment.

"Don't cry," you say, putting it on the ground in the grass and lying down in front of it, "we can play if you want, to distract you a little”.

That got his attention, because he looked at you again. He walks up to you with his little paws and puts one on your nose, he starts to sniff you with that little button in the middle of his little face.

"Ohhh... do you want a little kiss?" you ask, flooded with tenderness, "I would do anything to make you happy" you say, placing a tender kiss on the dragon's forehead. Is like a puppy...

The dragon retraces his steps, accelerating and rolling his head in madness. You see him writhing in place, as if he had suddenly fallen ill, and then... poof... a golden flash and a trail of smoke,  ike the one he had just exhaled through his nose. A faint wave of heat and a faint smell of sulfur as a figure began to form behind the column of smoke.

You straightened up in your seat as the column disintegrated, revealing the very embarrassed image of Zhongli, covering his mouth as he coughs, with traces of smoke and golden flames escaping from his throat.

He is wearing little clothing, a tunic of the same color as the skin of the dragon you spoke to earlier... is that perhaps...? 

"You," you point an accusing finger at Zhongli, and he looks at you with flushed cheeks, "what was that? Aren't you going to say anything about it?" you say to the man, appearing to be annoyed, although in reality, seeing him in that outfit has aroused something pleasurable in you.

"Well?" you insist.

"Are you going to give me that kiss or?" he interjects, his voice still weak and embarrassed.

His embarrassment fades for the next hour, during which he relentlessly thrusts himself into you, waiting for your boring explorer machine to end.

The filtering of the rocks continues, the particles falling into the vessel like sand in a crystal clock. The small machines emit tiny clicks and a faint plume of smoke and gas. The rumble of the cycle's drumbeat advances in rhythm with your moans as you feel Zhongli sink deep into you.

You lie on the grass, your pants and panties around your ankles, your hands on your head clinging to the foliage, your waist encircled by Zhongli's large hands holding you steady so he can work his way into your pussy. You feel his pelvic bone against your center, his balls against your skin, and then he pulls away to enter again. Gently, lovingly, afraid to break you and hurt you. He's painfully slow, but how good it feels.

You hear him make low, rasping noises as faint plumes of smoke rise from his nose, as when he looked like a dragon. His cock twists inside you, slapping against your cervix, massaging your wet, warm depths that mold to the shape of his member. You feel the warmth rush down your legs, an electric current coursing through every fiber of your limbs, your chest heaving in desperation.

The orgasm hits you both at the same time, decorating Zhongli's cock with a white ring as his cum spills into you like thick ropes from his ecstasy. He pulls back your panties and pants, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"May I mark you?" he asks with a look of honor, his face sublime and devoted.

"Don't even think about it," you say, joining in, noticing the sadness in his eyes, "we weren't even supposed to do it. It was just supposed to be a kiss and that's it," you seem to scold him, though it's you who's scolding yourself for being so unseemly and impetuous, though damn... you've enjoyed it so much... ....

Sensing your hostile tone, Zhongli wraps himself up and immediately transforms into his small reptilian form.

"Please stop being so dramatic," you express, leaning against one of the tree trunks and letting out a laugh. "Come back... I don't want to wait alone," you say, crossing your legs and putting your jacket down.

Zhongli, the dragon, approaches you with short steps, due to the length of his small legs, and climbs onto your lap, where he rubs the fabric of your coat, nestling into the fabric to take refuge, and lets out a yawn before closing his eyes and settling down for a nap. You stroke his back and coo to the little creature, feeling him purr like a cat.

"How cute you are when you sleep," you laugh, stroking his nose, causing him to bite your finger, "did you just mark me without my permission?" You ask, but he just squeals and jumps off your lap, looking for a way to escape. You catch him with your coat and throw it at him like a fleeing rat, but he manages to escape and hide in the bushes... you don't see him again for the rest of the afternoon, but you know that when you return to Liyue Harbour you will demand an apology, an explanation... and maybe a round two.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Civilian!Reader. No pronouns so can be read as any gender!

Summary: Meet-ugly with the Red Hood due to a gas station robbery gone wrong.

Word count: ~2k

(I'm branching out to other fandoms, apparently. Let me know if you want a sequel. Enjoy!)

You weren't born in Gotham, so it sometimes still surprises you that you had adjusted so well to its particular brand of crazy.

You're from somewhere a little more south of New Jersey, although most places in the U.S. are a little south of Jersey unless you're a lobster farmer from Maine or a tree hugger from Vermont.

Both of those descriptions sound critical, but they weren't meant to be. Right about now you're seriously considering taking up lobster farming.

No one sane ever moves to Gotham. Everyone knows the stories, and even if most of the country didn't believe all of them, most people aren't stupid enough to disregard them. And you certainly weren't stupid. But rent was dirt cheap for a city, and so was tuition for GU's vet school. So you thought to yourself, "How bad could it really be," bought pepper spray and a taser, and accepted the admissions offer.

You'd always liked iced coffee more than green bean casserole and peach cobbler, anyway.

Reading news articles hadn't been enough to prepare you for the utter insanity of Gotham City, unfortunately. But you adapted. You always did. Upgraded your taser, memorized the bus schedule, learned the less sketchy areas of town, did your best not to get caught outside after dark. Kept your head down, ignored the crime lords and genetic experiments gone wrong and lunatics and vigilantes scurrying along the rooftops, and you'd survived for almost two years without many incidents.

But you'd gone to the library because you were critically unable to work in your apartment, gotten distracted by panicking about how little you really knew about next week's test content, and stared at the pages of your textbook for almost an hour as you fought back tears. So now you were running late and it was dark as you walked home because the buses were down. Of course they were. That lunatic that thought he was a crocodile had smashed a bunch last week and they hadn't been replaced yet.

Goosebumps prickle on the back of your neck, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Keep your head down. Criminals target the people that look most obviously paranoid first.

You're just burnt out. Severely. But the end of your sophomore year of veterinary school was looming, which meant you would have a relaxing three-month vacation before the next one started.

And no, you weren't thinking about next year's summer 'vacation' of clinicals. Because if this year was bad after a year of summer vacation, what will it do to you to have no break at all?

That's a future you problem, thankfully.

You're still feeling sorry for yourself when you reach the gas station right next to your apartment building. You walk right by it, remember what's in your fridge or pantry—thanks, grocery store self, thinking you don't need any snacking foods—then backtrack.

Since starting vet school, you've tried to be healthier with your eating habits. Brains lacking in nutrients absorb information less efficiently, after all. But you're still a sucker for Cheez-Its and energy drinks.

You won't drink it tonight, obviously.

Right as you put the items on the counter for the bored-looking cashier to scan the barcodes, something cold presses to your temple.

The cashier freezes, eyes blown wide with panic.

"Easy there," someone says to your left. A man, voice oily in a way that sets your teeth on edge immediately. "Do what I say, or I blow their brains out, then yours."

A gun.

A gun is pressed to your head.

Because of course it is. A shitty way to end a shitty day. You should have kept walking right past the gas station.

Before you moved to Gotham, you might have screamed and panicked, but you know better now. You know to stay calm.

You clench your fists to stop them from shaking so noticeably, but otherwise don't move. You've seen hostage situations before, because this is Gotham, but you've never been the hostage.

The gun feels heavy. And so cold, like it's sapping all the heat from your skin.

"Okay, dude," the cashier said soothingly. "You want the money in the register?"

The robber scoffs. "Obviously."

"All right." The cashier's voice is even and soft, unthreatening. You wonder if training for situations like these are required for cashiers in Gotham. It certainly hadn't been for your old job, although that hadn't been in New Jersey, and it hadn't been at a twenty-four seven gas station, either. "I need to get a key to unlock it, okay? So I'm reaching below the counter."

"Just get the key," the robber demands. The gun shifts against your temple. You fantasize for a half-second about acting like an action hero, disarming him and taking him down all on your own. But you're not a vigilante and you've never been in a real-life fight before. You don't think you're fast enough to get out of the barrel's way before he pulls the trigger. If you managed to shove it away, what if he fired and hit the cashier instead?

Then comes the sound of another gun clicking.

Great, you think half-hysterically. Just what we need. Even more deadly weapons.

"Lower the gun," growls a modulated voice, and everyone freezes.

The Red Hood is standing behind the robber, also pointing a gun to his head like the meme of people lined up in a church with guns aimed at the person in front of them.

The robber lets his gun dip a little bit. Distracted enough that it's not pressed directly to your temple anymore.

Not to brag, but you recover the quickest. It's probably the adrenaline.

Thank God you keep your keychain in hand while out at night. Your fingers shake, but you have your pepper spray up in a second, and the robber's turning to look at your sudden movement when you squeeze down on the nozzle.

The spray hits him directly in the eyes, and his howl of pain is immediate. But you don't stop spraying, even when the cashier starts to splutter and your own eyes water.

The gun goes off, once in the robber's hands, and a second time when it hits the ground because he's dropped it in favor of clutching his burning face.

You stop the stream of pepper spray, because now the air is spicy when you breathe, but can't force yourself to lower your hand. The Red Hood quickly handcuffs the would-be robber, which is only difficult because he's clawing at his eyes in pain, and executes a tricky-looking martial arts move to get him on the ground.

Despite everything, you're impressed.

The Red Hood is bigger than maybe anyone you've ever seen before. He could have punched the robber in half like paper, probably, but you appreciate the finesse a little bit more.

"Hey." A gentle voice, and gentle hands, take the pepper spray out of your grip. "Quick thinking there," you're complimented. By the fucking Red Hood, one of Gotham's most infamous crime lords. The first time you read about him in the papers, he was chopping off people's heads, and every story since has been similarly alarming. But he's not supposed to be here; the Red Hood stays in Park Row, which locals call Crime Alley, apparently, and you've always steered very clear from that part of town.

"Can you look at me?"

You do. Maybe he won't chop off your head if you listen well enough.

"Are you okay?"

You blink. That... does not compute.

The Red Hood doesn't save people. And he doesn't leave Crime Alley. So what's he doing outside of Crime Alley, saving people?

The robber is still screaming, eyes screwed up in pain. He's handcuffed on the ground.

"You should probably let him wash out his eyes, at least," you tell the cashier. "Pepper spray is pretty painful." You'd sprayed yourself once out of curiosity, realized how much it burned, then sprinted to the shower to rinse it off. Which, pro tip: not a good move, especially with warm water. Water reactivates it by opening your pores, or something, and when you're in the shower it just spreads all over your body.

Your eyes are watering. The Red Hood sees that, because he tells you, "Let's get some air," and tugs you out of the gas station.

He's right. The cool night air does feel good. You blink away the stinging in your eyes and he repeats, "Are you okay?" His voice is robotic from the mask, but kind of pleasant at the same time. You'd never guess just from listening to him that he's a killer.

"Yes," you say automatically. "Thanks," you add. You're lightheaded for some reason; you sway on your feet.

"You sure?" he asks critically. "You look... pale." Judging by the pause, 'pale' wasn't the word he really wanted to say. The red helmet tilts. "You weren't shot, were you?"

"I don't think so," you shrug. Then you look down at yourself and realize that there's a large bloodstain on your hip. "Never mind. I think I was."

"Jesus!" he yelps at the sight. It's kind of funny, actually, this grown man built like a brick shithouse yelping at the sight of blood. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug and peel your sticky shirt away from the wound to inspect it. "I thought I just bumped something." Sure enough, it's just a graze. You weren't sure which shot had hit you, but you'd honestly been injured worse. Plus, supervising surgeries at the animal clinic you'd worked at for years has desensitized you to the sight of blood. Maybe it's also altered your perception on what 'serious injuries' count as; the amount of times you've been bitten by startled dogs...

"You need to go to the hospital."

"It's just a scratch," you argue. "I can't go to the hospital. I need to feed my cat."

"Your cat can wait. You're bleeding a lot."

"I'm already late, and if I miss dinner, he'll start pissing all over my apartment."

The Red Hood sighs. "Where do you live?"

Your mouth opens to answer on instinct. You snap it shut just in time and glare. "Why?"

"So I can feed your cat for you while you go to the hospital."

It's nice of him to offer, but... "No."

"No?"

Maybe it's not the best idea to refuse Gotham's most prominent crime lord, but it would also be pretty stupid to tell a strange man where you live. Especially when he happens to be said crime lord.

"Look," you sigh. "I'm a vet student. I have surgical tools at home to treat myself with, and I promise, under the blood, the bullet barely hit me. I've been hurt worse by Chihuahuas that hate the vet."

"There's no way I can convince you to change your mind?"

"It's been a long day," you sigh. "I really, really just want to go home." And he's blocking the path. Your apartment building is directly behind him, just calling your name.

"At least let me walk you to your building." He holds his hands up at your suspicious look and assures you, "I won't ask for the apartment number."

"I'm literally right there." You point.

He turns, sees how close you are to being home, and says, "Seriously?"

"Seriously. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were some kind of villain."

"I'm reformed," he grumbles.

"Well, good for you."

You make sure you have your keys and your wallet, then step around him and make it all the way to your building's door before he calls, "Wait!" The Red Hood's jogging to catch up to you, holding the box of Cheez-Its and energy drink you'd almost died for. "You forgot these," he says.

"Thanks," you say, taking them. It would have been a shame to waste four dollars.

"You're welcome," he says. There's something odd about his voice, but you attribute it to the mask, scan to be let into the building, and make sure it's fully closed before heading to the elevator.

Your cat is unhappy about dinner being an hour late. He weaves between your feet, making his protests loudly and viscerally known. You wince. He's worse than the dogs that bark in this building sometimes.

Your poor neighbors.

You give him his wet food, then hop in the shower to clean off your hip. It bled a lot, but once the blood washes away, it's actually not as bad as you thought. You've stitched up animals before, but never yourself, and decide against trying tonight. If it heals a little unevenly, who cares? No one will see it, anyway.

You pad the wound with gauze, tape it over, and fall into bed. Staring at the ceiling, you're forced to admit to yourself that you may be looking up more in the future. Just to see if anyone in a red helmet is running on a rooftop nearby.

It was a long day. But, strangely, almost dying wasn't the worst part of it.

Actually... it may have been the best part.

~~

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[gothic-thoughts]

Getting Through To You

Michael Myers x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Second Meeting, Nurse!Reader, AsylumPatient!Michael

Part 1: Right Here

Part 3: Right Here

CW: trying to get to know Michael, a little angsty at the end

TW: strangling (not you lol), violence mentioned

Word Count: 1442 (give or take)

The next day, the guards guide me to his room again, unlocking it and letting me in. Even though he seemed to like me yesterday, I, of course, was still afraid, tightly holding my clipboard.

“H-hey Michael...”

Michael was sitting on his bed, watching me enter, eyes drifting back to the door as it slowly closed behind me. Hoping he still felt the same about me as he did the other day, I wave at him sheepishly.

“Remember me from yesterday...?”

In silence, he just continues to watch me for a few more seconds before abruptly standing to which I gasp in surprise and quickly jump back. Michael makes his way over and I stand as still as I can, trying to show no fear since our fairly tame interaction yesterday but the weight of his intensity eventually squashes my courage and I end up backing away.

“U-uh...” I wave again, “Hi... I-I don't think I told you my name yesterday.”

He kept following me as I backed up, towering over me with his bulky frame until my back was flush with the wall backing me up against the wall.

“I'm (Y/n).”

He pauses, hair dangling to the side when he cocks his head.

“Y-yeah, (Y/n)...”

He slowly leans down a little closer to my height, but his intensity makes my skin crawl and my breathing halt.

“So how are you feeling today?”

Ugh, no answer. Maybe I’m not getting through to him? I start checking boxes and writing on my paper, the sound of the pen dancing along the clipboard loud in the dark, quiet room. He slowly lifts one of his large hands and with a surprising amount of carefulness, he grabs the top of the clipboard and slowly leans it back to peek. My shoulders relax at the curious gesture.

“Oh, I'm just writing how you feel.” I smile hopefully, “Cuz I gotta ask you some questions, is that... okay?”

The killer nods slightly.

“It’s only a couple. Can you, uh... Can you back up a little bit?”

He lets go of my board and takes a few heavy steps back, finally giving me the space I need to breathe properly.

“Uh... when’s the last time you, uh... had a violent urge...?”

Dead-air. I know he likes me and I know he definitely understands me. Maybe he’s just mute...? 

“Hm, you really don't talk, do you?”

Silence. I roll my eyes. What the fuck. Yet another thing my boss left out, got me asking a mute man questions. Ugh. Hearing his knuckles crack, I look up at him to see his eyes narrowed behind the eyeholes of his mask, the sight making my eyeholes widen in realization. I quickly backtrack as I reach out to touch his fist, a weak attempt at keeping it down.

“No, no! I wasn’t rolling my eyes at you!”

His eyes remain the same as his head tilted again.

“I was just mad that nobody told me you didn’t talk, that’s all. I don’t mind if you don’t talk but I wouldn’t be asking you questions if I knew that you...wouldn’t really answer them. Or rather...”

My boss told me not to come back unless the paper was filled out so I went with the first idea that popped into my head: just ask him yes or no questions. Might take a little bit longer if I get no’s but there’s no talking required. It’s the best chance I got.

“Okay, can we try something else?” I think for a second before tensing at the only question that appeared, “I-I heard about the nurse before... is it true you didn't like her?”

His eyes seem to get darker, his entire unit of a body tensing as his breathing becomes heavier, causing me to pull my hand back from his still-clenched fist. Guess that answers that question.

“Okay, okay... Easy...” My hands go up in surrender, “I... I'm not mad, not judging, just asking, remember?”

The tension in the room halts when his heavy breaths stop, the area now silent as if he were holding his breath. The killer’s shoulders lower slowly and his fists open at his sides, getting a soft sigh of relief out of me.

“Yeah, there you go. That's it.”

His blue, dead eyes behind the mask finally drift away from me as he shuffles over to his wall of homemade papier-mâché masks. He slowly reaches up and touches one of them, petting it lightly and seeming to calm down even further.

“Did you make those?”

He pulls down one of the masks and holds it as he slowly nods his head. 

“They look...nice... You made them for Halloween..?”

Another wordless nod.

“Oh, well they’re really nice. Can I... keep asking questions?”

Another nod.

“Alright... do you like your new nurse...?”

He goes still. His head slowly tilts down to look at the mask in his hand before his eyes suddenly snap back up to me. Oh great. He drops the mask and steps over it to get closer but I jump back with a shriek, hoping the guards heard and took it as a sign of potential danger.

“Guess that's a no... B-but what did I do?” I keep backing away, crossing his room in the other direction, “Is there something you don't like about me...?”

Michael suddenly grabs my arm in his strong grip, making me scream again and flinch, this time the sound getting the guard's attention enough to call out for Michael, but the killer uncaringly lowers his head until our eyes meet. He slowly raises his right hand and uses a couple of fingers to pet my corresponding cheek— with the same amount of care he used with his mask.

“Y-you don't like my face...?”

Michael keeps moving his hands gently, the rough, dangerous fingers tracing my skin delicately like he doesn't want to break it, the gesture somehow calming my heart rate.

“You... like my face...? God, I never seen you so... like this...”

I slowly raised my hand, making sure he was following my movements as touched the back of the hand he was petting me with. Michael doesn’t stop me, instead stilling his hand to allow me to feel his cold skin. He almost felt dead, giving me a chill but I compose myself as I look at his orange mask in more depth, appreciating how much long it must’ve taken to make it, hell how long it must’ve taken to make all of them.

“Aw Michael, you're freezing.”

He doesn't respond to my comment but he huffs behind the mask as his shoulders relax.

“How... how many people have got this close to you.... a-and lived...?”

Michael tilts his head, supposedly thinking for a moment before he realigns his head and lifts his free hand, holding up two fingers before my face. I gasp in shock. This is the most he’s spoken— or well, opened up, I guess. Nodding, I pull my hand from his but without warning, he grabs my wrist in a firm but gentle grip, stopping me, but not hurting me. My heart clenches and beats a little faster as I put my hand back, his breathing once again becoming undetectable.

I look up at his mask, slowly lifting my other hand and touching his shaggy, dreaded hair, my fingers running getting caught in the thick, brown strands that messily clung together. He watches me silently the whole time so I give him a small smile as I become more and more soothed by his presence. The guards suddenly bang on the door as they bust in, startling me out of the moment.

I drop my clipboard and jump away from Michael with a sharp gasp as my body goes back into flight mode. Why are they in here? What did he do? It couldn’t have been from when I screamed earlier, that was like forever ago! We were finally bonding! Or was he about to do something and I didn’t see it?

Before another question could cross my mind, Michael stomps over to the two guards, his tall form immediately dwarfing them as he grabs them both by the throat, crushing their windpipes as they choke and kick for air. I stare in horror, wondering how and why I ever let myself get so close to that monster. They could’ve been me. I contemplated calling out for him but I didn’t wanna be next so as more guards rushed in to try their best to subdue him, I ran out of the room as the sound of crackling electricity and pained screams rang out in the hallway.

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After the incident, I was given a little over a week of vacation to cope and work through any trauma I got from seeing Michael attack for the first time.

Except I didn’t really have any trauma, I was just... scared. Terrified, really. I guess I’m just glad it wasn’t aimed towards me... He seemed like he went out of his way to make sure he attacked the guards.

I mean I was standing right there, and I was touching his hair! He had all the chances to attack, but he didn’t.

Hell he didn’t even push me out the way when he stalked over to the guards, he stepped around me. Maybe it was the noise.

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(a/n): This gonna be a mini saga, part 3 coming out soon 😁😁

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[melissa-kenobi]

🎃 Kinktober 2024 🎃 Peter Parker + Sex Pollen

Waheeyyy, 2nd part of Kinktober, we've got Peter Parker up next!

Under 18s, DNI

Warnings: Breeding, Web Fluid, Dirty Talk, Sex Pollen, Possessiveness.

Word Count:

🎃 Kinktober 2024 MasterList 🎃

***

Peter was causally making this way through the room filled with hunters. His spidey instincts were on fire, and every inch of him itched to rid his city of these people. But he couldn't, not now. He had a job to do, to find Kraven.

He made his way through the Hunters, making sure that he maintained his cover as a waiter trying to serve Mr Kravinoffs bodyguard.

Peter was getting anxious. He carried the platter on one hand before heading through the door, looking behind before rushing inside and accidentally bumping into the other servers.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" Peter apologises, putting the platter down, trying to help before the other waiter yells at him for not looking where he was going.

"Hey! Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"I'm sorry!" Peter apologises and backs up before the doors open again, and another waiter crashes into the two of them, making the tables topple over each other. The waiter curses and yells at the other man, making Peter's eyes go wide at the mess.

Quickly scanning the area for an out, he spots the elevator.

Bingo.

Peter backtracks to the elevator, hoping that he will finally find Kraven. Once the elevator reaches the final stop Peter hesitantly steps out eyes flickering around before he senses there's no-one there.

"All clear." He whispers to himself as he stalks around the room, noticing all the trophys and animal heads hung up as prizes, "Spider-Spy to the rescue."

"Spider-Spy? Really?" A sickly sweet voice echoes from behind him.

In an instant, Peter feels the hairs on his arms stand up as he whips around, only to come face to face with a real-life tiger.

"Hey, so at least you're real and alive..." Peter mummers under his breath, eyes wide before they fall upon a female hunter sat atop the tiger, watching Peter carefully. Needing to be cautious, Peter casts a glance at female hunter.

"I've been watching you, Spider-Man. You're not as slick as you think you are." You say before flipping off the tiger and standing right in front of Peter. You'd been watching the little spider make his rounds. You had to admit was pretty fit under that mask of his. He had a cute, handsome face. "You ought to be more careful with the way you walk around, you stuck out like a sore thumb."

Peter is slightly speechless, he thought he was more slick and undercover, "What do you want?"

"I want a lot of things little Spider, but mainly I want your head on a platter for Kraven." You say tilting your head at him whilst stroking the tiger, eyes still on the Spider.

"Well, I can't say its the first time I've heard that." Peter retorts, "How about I apologise and leave swiftly before you unleash that tiger on me and we pretend I was never here?"

"No can do." You say before lunging at him with your bladed knife. Peter swiftly jumps out the way, shooting a web at your arm which you block and flip over.

Your eyes follow the Spider's every move, waiting for him to throw another attack at you. Within seconds, he attacks, shooting web after web at you. You grimace as you dodge each and everyone but not before some of it lands on your thigh.

"That is disgusting. Is this stuff coming outta you?" You say as you swipe off the remains of his webs on your thigh.

Spider-Man shrugs, "It's complicated." He swings up in the air, being held up by one of his web as he hangs upside down, "Look I don't really want to hurt you."

"I do." You growl, eyes focused on his mask before gesturing for your tiger to approach. You watched as the eyes on his mask widened as he watched your tiger approach him, with a menacing glare.

"Hey kitty, good kitty..." Spider-Man said, slowly lifting himself up but not before you threw a knife at his web, instantly cutting through it, making the superhero tumble to the floor as he landed on a vase of something. The vase broke under the weight of Spider-Man, and a yellow puff of smoke erupted from it. Your tiger growled as she inched forwards in front of you, closer to the Spider, almost as if she was protecting you.

You inched closer, gently kicking at his thigh whilst he lay still on the broken vase. He didn't move.

Was he- Was he dead?

You moved closer and bent down to look at him, "Hey- wake up. You can't die that easy." Sighing, you got up to grab some rope to tie the Spider up only to turn around and find that he was gone.

"Fuck- where'd he go?" You spin around to ask your tiger only to find that she too was gone. You curse under your breath as you find your animal gone and the smell of meat lingering. Shit, he had gotten rid of her too.

Before you knew it, you were being swung in the room and webbed up against the wall, and Spider-Man hanging above you as he slowly decended and watched you. You growled as you tried to rid yourself from the webs.

"Let me go." You hiss at him, noticing a slight change in his demeanour.

"Where is Kraven?" He growls, tone darker and voice more gravely as he inched closer to you, pressing his chest to yours. He traced your face with his finger, swiping at the yellow substance.

"You'll never find out from me." You smirk, taking in the yellow powder that coated the bottom half of his suit. You sniffed the air only to cough and spit out the scent. Your eyes fell upon a bulge that was poking through the crotch element of his suit, "Oh fuck-"

Of course he had to fall into that pot.

"Look- Spidey, you're not well. You need to- "You begin to say before you're cut off by him sniffing at your neck. He lifted the bottom half of his mask off and kissed at your throat, moaning softly at your sweet scent.

"You- what did you do to me? I feel-" He hisses, sniffing at your neck, loving the smell of you. It surrounded him like a hoard of bees. The sweet, tangy scent of you was stuck in his mind, in his head, he ached to feel it around his cock, "What is that? It smells so good. You smell so good."

"I-" You begun but was cut off as Spider-Man pushed his lower body against you, slowly rutting his hips against your thigh, "Wait- Spider-Man, you don't want this."

"What was that substance I fell into?" He growls in your ear. Fuck that was hot. Nope. No you shouldn't be- oh shit, now you were going to be affected too.

"It was the pheromones from a plant. A very dangerous plant, one that Kraven used to use to help our population increase." You admit, suddenly feeling your core ache and become wet.

"What does that mean?" He growls again, still not understanding. He moves back a little bit, but not enough to give you room to escape.

You watch his reaction, almost as if he was having a mental conversation with himself about something. His head tilts as he mutters to himself, "Ours?"

Suddenly, his eyes fall upon you, "Her?" He says, sniffing and licking at your neck once more.

"Mine." He growls once more in that low baritone voice, one that sounded so unlike the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man you had seen. He rips his mask off before lunging forward and sucking on your neck, almost possessively. His hands tear at your outfit, ripping it to shreds leaving you exposed whilst his own suit opened up to reveal his cock.

"Holy fuck-" You curse, eyes widening with shock as you watch him pump his cock. That thing was huge, and leaky and red and angry. Fuck, the pollen must have really affected him.

He glances at you before positioning his cock against your lower lips, the head of his cock tapping light against your clit making you moan softly.

"Soaked." He whispers in awe whilst sliding his cock back and forth between your lips before plunging himself in, in one go. You scream and roll your head back against the wall as he penetrates your pussy.

He moves with quick rapid thrusts, not caring at all about your pleasure, only wanting to find his release, and if you weren't so horny you would care. But you enjoyed the way he filled out your pussy, the way you could feel him in your stomach, almost as if he was going to break you. His thick length pushes against your walls, and you loved the way it hurt but felt so good. You wanted more of him.

Peter wasn't holding back. He wanted you. His instincts wanted him to breed you, to fill you, to claim you. You were his, and this was the only way. He didn't care that you were one of Kravens hunters. You were his now. Reaching his peak, he gripped your throat gently, pulling you to his lips before placing a soft kiss on them.

"Mine. You belong to us." He whispered before letting out a low growl of your name and filling you with his cum.

***

[mortuarywriting]

Okay. So.

This post, right? I had this vivid bit come to me based on the deli comment + Pic combo. I do not plan on writing more. Free to a good home someone else take this I would NOT have any idea where to go with it oc or insert live your best life

You didn't usually come by this way, and frankly if there hadn't been closures for some infrastructure work you still wouldn't. The extra 10 minutes this unforseen detour was causing meant your entire schedule was thrown off balance. It was only by happenstance that plans got moved an hour back while you were already on the way. Normally you'd be more upset that shit got shifted while you were already on the way but you figured a solid "fuck it" was warranted and you should get yourself something to eat really quick.

You figured a new route would mean new restaurants, and had you decided this anywhere along your usual route or even before your turn down this detour? You'd be so right. You knew there were tons of little places you made notes to go back and try the ever nebulous sometime.

This would be an awesome sometime if it didn't mean trying to turn around and backtrack and the way the construction area had been? That was not appealing.

This road had a surprising lack of food options, and between the idea of gas station snacks or a little corner deli? You were gonna pick the deli first. Why not, good to try new things after all.

Only as soon as you walk in you see the guy behind the counter. Well, more leaning between the counter and the front, he's obviously tied enough to the place that he's talking to the only other customer in there, but someone else is actually making the sandwich while he chats with the guy waiting.

You were ready with a polite smile as you looked at the menu but something about the guy made you do a second glance and-

You knew of that neck tattoo. The long sleeves and pants he wore covering the rest of his skin suddenly felt a lot less sensible for the weather and a lot more like brush hiding something dangerous. That hammer might as well have been a sign saying 'this is not a place of honor', it was a warning and a potential threat all in one and you were not gonna ignore that.

You'd normally just turn on your heel and slide out, quiet and unnoticed, except he had noticed you.

"Welcome," and if that didn't feel like a bold faced lie to you but you keep a pleasant smile even as the fuckoff huge other customer, also very large, also very white and also very covered up- face mask, beanie, sunglasses in hand and hints of tattoos peeking from his sleeves- turns to look at you as well.

You try so hard to keep your polite smile and distinctly not make eye contact as you look over the menu. Your appetite is so far gone you don't know if you're gonna eat for the rest of the day, you weigh the odds between being able to just make your escape versus buying a drink and mentally trying to figure out if you had enough loose change to get a water bottle because you did not want these people to theoretically have your name. Not with that dogwhistle on his fuckin neck you didn't.

But you've never been so glad for your friends serial texting, your phone chiming four times in rapid succession in your pocket.

You fish it out and, well, damn, if that isn't one hell of a meme. You let your brow furrow, "oh son of a-" you look up and offer an apologetic smile, "so sorry, have a good one," and you beat feet and make a hasty retreat.

You dial that friend in question as you make your way out, "hey, yeah, I know you just texted me but I need to be on the phone really quick? Yeah uh," you do a bit of a look around and behind you, making sure your coast is fairly clear before you lower your voice and continue, "might've. Just accidentally walked into a white supremacist place?"

"HOW DO YOU ACCIDENTALLY-"

"It's not like they hung a swastika on the window," your tone creeps back up with exasperation, "the guy- manager or owner I dunno- he had the fuckin- the hammer on his throat! And he was too covered for me to check for iron crosses and with his only other customer being another giant white guy I wasn't playing the odds! Anyway, whatever, I'm almost there just. Hang out with me on the phone. Where the hell did you find that meme?"

--------

Look I'd cut back to where it goes back to the guys bantering here but like. I'm running out of steam and Price doesn't cooperate with my writing at the best of times.

Just know Simon absolutely makes the joke that pretty birds leaving is what happens when you let Roaches around your food. Roach just flips him the bird.

Gaz was absolutely walking down the street and heard some of that phone call. Absolutely finds it hilarious.

Anyway please if you want this take it free to a good home I do not need this freeloader

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May I request a platonic Hop x reader where the reader comforts him after losing to and being insulted by Bede?

When Hop ran off to challenge Bede in the Wilds Area after the latter insulted you both, you thought he could handle that snobby psychic-type user easily.

For you, taking down his team was like a walk in the park. None of his Pokémon stood a chance against you! So you didn't think there was anything to worry about as you continued onto Hammerlocke, wanting to get your hard-earned badges verified.

Along the way, you've battled some of the stronger wild Pokémon, rounding up a few to add to your team for the next gym challenges. Of course there were a few who were a bit too strong for you to capture at the moment, so you moved on quickly so you didn't get hurt.

But after getting approved by the agent, you were just about to climb the steps when Bede approached...with Hop nowhere to be found.

Much to your dismay, your best friend was defeated in their battle, and he just rubbed his victory in your face, convinced that Hop will withdraw from the challenge for sure. Apparently a few visitors have captured footage of their fight...which must've been a blow to the latter's self-esteem for sure.

Your blood was boiling, especially when Bede mocked Wooloo, claiming it's only a matter of time before it was abandoned.

Sure, he might've been endorsed by the chairman himself..but that's no excuse for his attitude and poor sportsmanship! He had no right talking to another human being like that!

You would've fought him right there and then...but decided not to give into anger as he smugly moved onto Hammerlocke. Instead, you opted to search for Hop, texting him several times to see if he was okay.

Unfortunately, there was no response from him, which was worrying. Although you've both grown in strength since first coming here, the Wild Area was still quite dangerous if he winded up in the wrong place.

After some backtracking, you finally found him trying to take on a very strong-looking Steelix, sending his Wooloo against the iron beast. But despite the obvious disadvantages of a normal type against steel, he kept pushing it to fight back.

Its attacks barely made it flinch.

Steelix chuffed at your friend's attempts to battle it, as though it pitied the little sheep for being forced to fight, before it summoned a sandstorm that blinded the two.

When Wooloo's attack missed because of the weather change, it bared a merciless smile and prepared an Iron Tail attack-

When all of the sudden a plush Clefairy doll was tossed into its field of vision, momentarily distracting it.

Through the blinding sand, Hop realized it was you who intervened, but before he could say anything, you rushed into the storm to grab his wrist.

"C'mon! It's too strong for either of us!!" You didn't wait for his response as you quickly yanked him out of the fight.

You knew he was reckless like his brother...but not to this degree. There's no way he'd act like this under normal circumstances.

Together you ran from the Steelix as the sandstorm subsided, and it growled as it noticed Wooloo fleeing as well, before returning underground.

Once you were both in one of the calmer areas, you let go of Hop's wrist, turning to frown at him. "What were you thinking?!" You huffed. "You're lucky I had a Poké Doll or else-!!"

However, your annoyance was quick to evaporate when you saw the tears welling up in his golden eyes.

Only then did you feel your heart sink with guilt.

"...s-sorry, I was just..trying to get stronger." He was struggling to keep himself together. But it was failing as he slumped against one of the trees, sliding down and covering his face with his hands. "P-Please don't tell Leon.."

He never wanted to be seen like this, especially not by his rival and best friend. Yet here you were, saving him and somehow knowing exactly what to do...while all he knew how to do was get hurt.

"No, I'm sorry for yelling, Hop. I promise I won't tell him." Kneeling down, you sighed softly, watching Wooloo attempt to comfort its trainer. "Listen..whatever Bede said isn't worth your tears. He just thinks he's better than everyone else."

"I-I know, but...it still hurt." He peeked at you through his fingers, sniffling. "The things he said to me...a-and Wooloo...they just stung, mate. And ya know what else? He....he thinks the gym leaders only gave me their badges out of pity."

"...what?! I'm gonna-!!!" You grew livid, but soon calmed down as you remembered getting angry would only make him feel worse. "I-I mean..that's stupid. You won those fair and square because it shows how strong you've grown."

"...you think so?"

"I know so." With a small smile on your face, you gently petted Wooloo. "And Wooloo does, too. Soon enough, he'll regret saying those awful things. We'll show him. Right?"

"Baaa!!" The little sheep nodded in agreement.

Hop just sat there in silence, wiping his tears away as doubt continued to fog up his mind. But when you opened your arms up to him, he accepted your hug, holding onto you tightly.

He never meant to become this depressed so early in the journey; he knew he'd be facing tough losses and not-so-polite trainers.

Though Bede's words just dug into him like a Cacturne's thorn..and he wondered if some of them were true.

But to know you didn't leave him behind was relieving, despite his worries about holding you back from getting all the gym badges. Nevertheless...he's grateful you looked for him and had his back no matter what.

"Next time, I'll have one of my ghost Pokémon hit him with a Max Phantasm." You lightly threatened.

That managed to get Hop to laugh a little, as you felt him relax in your arms. "...yeah, that oughta show him." Then he sighed, eventually letting go after a few moments longer. "I'm sorry again, [y/n]...and Wooloo..for pushing you into that fight."

The sheep nodded in understanding, returning to its pokeball at his request.

"I think..I'll focus on training my Pokémon and rearrange my team before I tackle the next gym." He leaned against the tree, eyes lingering on the pokeball with guilt. "If I'm ever gonna surpass Leon..I-I need to take my time. Form bonds..develop strategies...that's how he got to where he is today."

Then he looked to you, smiling tiredly. "Of course, you probably don't have to worry about all of that, [y/n]. You should really head onto Hammer-"

"Nah, I think..we should set up a camp here and just chill out for a little while." You suggested, standing up and offering your hand to him. "I'll cook up some delicious curry for our Pokémon. I found a killer recipe my team is addicted to."

"That sounds good, but...are you sure about-?"

"Yes."

"....alright! No need to tell me twice, mate!" That familiar sparkle in his eye returned as he grasped your hand, practically jumping to his feet as you helped him up. "That reminds me...I'm short on berries so...I'm gonna go shake that tree over there!"

Before you could see which tree he was pointing to, he took off into the tall grass that surrounded it, having his energy back. All you could do was chase after him, knowing he's gonna trip over a wild Pokémon or two.

"Hop, wait!! I have repels!!"

[authoralexharvey]

INTERVIEW WITH A WRITEBLR — @sleepyowlwrites

Who You Are:

M.J || She/her

I'm a relentlessly optimistic affectionate creative who will impart love to the world through whatever means possible, and this includes my writing. And it shows, because all my kids are either full of love or in desperate need of it.

What You Write:

What genres do you write in? What age ranges do you write for?

Action, Adventure, Contemporary, Fanfic, Fantasy, Poetry. Young and New Adult.

What genre would you write in for the rest of your life, if you could? What about that genre appeals to you?

Fantasy, it's always been fantasy. Even my contemporary pieces have trace elements of fantasy in them. I like having rules in my worlds, but ones that I made up instead of science or society.

What genre/s will you not write unless you HAVE to? What about that genre turns you off?

Romance. I sometimes think about trying it, but I quickly turn away. There's nothing about romance that is fulfilling in a way that I couldn't find elsewhere. It's just not enough for me. I want everything else, everything in the wider love spectrum, all the kinds I personally treasure in my own life.

Who is your target audience? Do you think anyone outside of that would get anything out of your works?

Anybody, but especially people who have emotions that refuse to be processed. I'm hoping to help them process those emotions through the lens of character. If a reader isn't ready for striking combinations of whimsy and weight, or unexpected feelings, then they might not jive with my stories.

What kind of themes do you tend to focus on? What kinds of tropes? What about them appeals to you?

Mental illness, friendship, hurt/comfort, the mortifying ordeal of being known, purpose, trauma, personal choices, siblings, raw depths of emotions, and shenanigans. One of these is not like the other. I like to put relatable qualities in fantastical realms and make it intimate. I want you to indulge, and I want you to think.

What themes or tropes can you not stand? What about them turn you off?

Romanticized abuse or toxic relationships, romanticized mental illness or disabilities, fake redemption arcs, poorly realized characters or cheap twists, and sex. I'm entirely uninterested in sex. There are too many things I dislike to think of them now that I've been asked, but they're just preference. Don't backtrack on character growth for the sake of drama, please.

What are you currently working on? How long have you been working on it?

That's a trick question. I work on multiple projects at once because that's what my brain prefers. My longest wip is 10 months old and my oldest is almost 7 years.

Why do you write? What keeps you writing?

I've always talked my thoughts aloud to make them make sense - my adhd doesn't think in sentences, so it can get very jumbled in my brain - and stories are an additional way of explaining the world or people to myself, or explaining myself to other people, or of explaining nothing but exploring the unnamed. I write because I feel these things anyway. Might as well share them.

How long have you been writing? What do you think first drew you to it?

Since I was 9, so 20 years ago. The same reason as above, and also my mom said I was talented. I was decidedly untalented in various other areas, so I jumped on that talent and went for it. I do still think I'm talented but I'm a good writer because I kept at it. I have the skills now to back up the talent. It’s very gratifying.

Where do you get your inspiration from? Is that how you got your inspiration for your current project? If not, where did the inspiration come from?

Anywhere, and I really mean it. I can't tell you how many times I've been sitting at a stoplight, or cleaning, or watch Chicago Med with my mom bemoaning the horrible writing and poof! Idea. It just comes to me. Little bit gift, little bit curse, really.

What work of yours are you most proud of? Why?

Hard to say. Everything. The ones that barely exist and the ones that don't make sense anymore. The poetry from 2010 that is simply terrible. The ones from 2020 that are full of grief. The stories that change form but won't leave me alone. The ones I just invented. I'm proud of of it for impacting me, the audience I write for first.

Have you published anything? Do you want to?

No. Yes? It's not the only end goal like when I was 14. It's an idea I like to entertain. I'm currently happy just to be writing along with work.

What part of the publishing process most appeals to you? What part least appeals to you?

I'd like to self-publish first, and that means learning and doing new things, which I hate. I'm 29 and I still hate it. The upside would be more control, the downside would be more control.

What part of the writing process most appeals to you? What part is least appealing?

Least appealing is finishing. Most appealing is starting and middling. I'm also afraid of worldbuilding because it tends to squash my writing drive for some reason? I'm working on it.

Do you have a writing process? Do you have an ideal setup? Do you write in pure chaos? Talk about your process a bit.

It's pure chaos. I rubber duck until sentences settle like dew in the morning, and then I sometimes collect it to make tea, and sometimes I just watch it evaporate. Both activities are important. I write until I find a plot, and if I cannot find one, I will let the tea sit and grow mold. Sometimes I have to throw it out. Sometimes I recycle, plant flowers, and grow new stories. It's chaos. I love it.

Your Thoughts on Writeblr:

How long have you been a writeblr? What inspired you to join the community?

2018 - I converted from a kpop blog - I wanted to get back into writing original fiction again, and I wanted my writeblr to be my main. So. I did that.

Shout out some of your favorite writeblrs. How did you find them and what made you want to follow them?

How. Am I supposed to pick. Some? I found everybody from following a few people and seeing who they followed. I usually follow on a whim, and then make friends after. @zmwrites, @akindofmagictoo, @blind-the-winds, @oh-no-another-idea, @ink-fireplace-coffee, @avrablake, @chayscribbles, @mel-writes-with-her-dragons, @artbyeloquent, @writing-is-a-martial-art, @ashen-crest, I have at least 80 more people I could mention

What is your favorite part about writeblr?

Making friends and adopting each other's blorbos! And reading some truly excellent stories, obviously.

What do you think writeblr could improve on? How do you think we can go about doing so?

Initiate interaction. If you want asks, send some, if you want tags, tag people, if you want readers, read stuff. There's no guarantee of reciprocity - I'm often too tired to respond enthusiastically even when I'm happy to see a post - but the more we engage, the more we are engaging. Wow, I'm a writer.

How do you contribute to the writeblr community? Do you think you could be doing more?

I try to send asks whenever I see people asking, I post prompts lists and invent tags. I start conversations and make friends that way. I could be doing more, but it’s a balance between doing more and not breaking my boundaries. I talk to people all day at work and expend social energy. As an introvert, I have to not overreach or I get anxiety and burnout. Life's a balancing act, and writeblr is no exception.

What kinds of posts do you most like to interact with?

Tag games? It liberally depends on the day. I struggle the most with reblogging others' writing. But I'm getting better!

What kind of posts do you most like to make?

Writing memes or relatability, or new tag games.

Finally, anywhere else online we may be able to find you?

Not anywhere that I use frequently.

[sexhaver]

Radical Red is becoming my favorite pokemon romhack solely because of how extensive the QoL features (on a gen 3 game engine!!!!) are and how early you get access to them.

almost immediately after starting the game, you get access to a "poke vial" that you can use anywhere to fully heal your team. it has 6 charges that are all refilled upon using an actual poke center. it feels like every encounter in this hack is balanced around you starting at full health (the gym leaders even heal you to full to prevent Endeavor/Guts cheese strats lol), so not having to backtrack between every trainer is a godsend

you unlock free, toggleable, infinite Repel right after the first gym

you get a DexNav that shows you all of the encounterable pokemon in your current area, their hidden abilities/held items, and allows you to chain them super easily. the UI for chaining shows you their ability, most notable move, and how many perfect IVs they have before encountering them

the pokemon "summary" UI doesn't treat you like a literal child and actually shows you the pokemon's base stats, EVs, IVs, and happiness as plain numbers, as well as the level/method of next evolution

there are in-game ways to very easily reset EVs, max out EVs/experience in a single battle, change a pokemon's ability/nature, and even set an existing poke's IVs to 31. also you can nickname them directly from your party menu so that's cool too

the battle UI shows the type(s) of the opposing pokemon (a godsend in a game with hundreds of mons including various forms of the same mon with different typing), and the move selection UI shows you if a move is super/not very effective, if it gets STAB, and lets you view the effective base power and accuracy of all your moves by pressing L instead of going all the way back to the summary screen. i know some/all of these features are standard in later games, but again, gen 3 engine

you can access the PC from anywhere using the start menu (yes this lets you heal mons out of battle by depositing and removing them, poke vials are faster though)

the fast travel functionality is now tied to a key item you get after your second rival fight instead of a mediocre two-turn move

HMs and other moves with field usage (Teleport, Dig, etc) don't actually need to be taught to be used. as long as you have the TM/HM in your inventory, any pokemon that could learn it can instead just use the move in the field without actually learning it. also the HMs have been overhauled to suck less; Cut had its BP bumped up and type changed to Steel, and Flash is now a specially damaging Electric move instead of literally Sand Attack

this is really minor but the Professor Oak's Aide who gives you the HM for Flash doesn't even bother checking if you've caught the required number of pokemon yet, instead just handing it over and saying "I don't get paid enough for this"

and yet despite all this, the game itself is hard enough with brutal team comps, level caps, and no items in battle that you don't feel like you're steamrolling by using all these overpowered tools. romhackers have been making better pokemon games than game freak for years and this proves it

[mysticfoxdesigns]

Who is your favorite human character from Rescue Bots?

(yet another example of a seemingly short post turning long)

My favorite human character in Rescue Bots has been tied between Kade and Dani. Dani is just a really fun character and I feel myself relating to her and her daredevilness. She in all is a pretty popular character as well.

Now I know that people don't generally like Kade

But I have my reasons.

I love asshole characters, especially ones that could be considered loveable assholes. I considered Kade to be one of the characters, even if the show didn't handle the trope well. Kade is honestly a character that needs to grow on you. Sometimes it's quick, sometimes it takes all four seasons. For me, it was the second episode.

That episode was honestly the peak of being an older sibling. How I know? I'm an older sibling.

In that episode we see our general Kade characteristics. He is egotistical, a jerk to Heatwave, and a jerk to members of his family. I honestly believe these are valid reasons to not like him, especially if your favorites are Heatwave or Cody. (Yes I am calling y'all out) However, he still cares about all of them, especially for the bots after that episode.

Kade literally older sibling freaked out when it was revealed Cody was in danger. He (mostly) kept his calm cause he is a first responder, that is in the job description to keep a level head, but he was still scared about Cody's safety. His first priority was getting there first to stop the lava, and when Heatwave revealed he was also scared for the younger Burns child, that is what started Kade's respect for him.

Now I will admit, how he got with Hayley was not a good example for a kids show. No one owes you a date just cause you save their life. However, if Hayley truly was not interested later on after that, she wouldn't continue going on dates with him. Their relationship from what we see in the show isn't the healthiest, but it's nothing bad to be purely honest. Hayley has boundaries she clearly sets, as seen in the episode where Kade gets cloned 5 times over. She speaks her mind to him, and pushes him to not be a complete jerk. And Kade respects her wishes! The show, if it did focus more on their relationship, could have pushed for Kade to have more character growth as their relationship grew. However, the show was not built to work with that kind of story plot.

As for how Kade acts with his family, you can see he instantly backtracks when he realizes his words have hurt his family. I truly believe he doesn't think before he speaks. A character flaw, yes, but it does not represent his true morals and ethics. He wouldn't be on a rescue team if he was a truly terrible person. In the episode where the bots are struck with a sickness from the meteor, he tries to rationalize the situation in his own way of coping. But as soon as he realizes that the way of coping he was using wasn't helping Cody, he changes his tune to support Cody's way of coping. In the Squilsh episode, we see him try to argue that he should be the last to leave the area, he didn't want to leave Graham behind and alone. It was Chief having to push him to Blade's ladder to make him leave and get to safety.

And it isn't like we don't see him being anything but an egotistical asshole, we see him genuinely scared. The gremlins episode is a perfect example of this. Kade had a big phobia of them, he barely got any sleep cause of nightmares dealing with them, and he didn't want to enter the power plant cause of it being overrun by them. However, it isn't like he didn't do anything to overcome it. He went to Doc Greene to find a solution, and when it did backfire, Kade didn't back down. Heatwave also showed some great character development in this episode, he didn't make fun of Kade too much for his fear, and even encouraged him to get into the powerplant. Kade was then able to overcome the fear, showing growth in his character.

And on the topic of Heatwave and Kade's relationship. They remind me so much of my own relationship with one of my best friends. We make fun of each other, we are assholes to each other, he makes fun of my autism, I make fun of him being a twink. But we are still best friends. We know the limits and boundaries of our jokes, and it isn't just us being assholes to each other 24/7. We have genuine hearts to hearts, we give each other advice, and we help each other out through difficulties in our life. This is exactly what Heatwave and Kade's relationship is, though not a direct parallel to my relationship.

Heatwave isn't innocent in the beginning with how he treats Kade, just as Kade is not innocent. They are both unfiltered, unreasonable assholes to each other. Heatwave is mad that Optimus Prime won't let him join the Prime Team, and he takes that out on being a pessimistic jerk to the situation they are in. He does not want to be on Griffin Rock, and that is evident. Kade, doesn't reasonably want to work and be inside of an alien. ANY REASONABLE PERSON WOULD BE LIKE THAT. However, it does not excuse his treatment of Heatwave, who is another sentient being. Heatwave is a genuine jerk throughout the first season. It is evident he only cares about his team and Cody. The flobster's episode is a good example of this, he won't care until it is his job. Now, he does grow out of this, which is good cause character development, we love that here.

As the season goes on we see their relationship develop into this friendly "I hate your guts but I will kill for you" situation. (Obviously they do not actually hate each other's guts, but they still act like it) This kind of character development is my favorite! The show does a good job at showing this as well. If you compare the first few episodes of season 1, with the episodes of season 3 and 4, you can see how their relationship has changed. Neither of them are scared to speak their mind, and there is obviously respect in the relationship. Kade and Heatwave have grown to understand and respect each other, while still being jerks to each other. Heatwave is not afraid to make fun of Kade and vice versa, which honestly I believe is a clear sign of a good and healthy relationship. You can point out flaws in each other, and no one is going to instantly get butthurt. Boundaries just have to be established and maintained.

I wish the show could have further explored more of these character developments, not just in Kade but in everyone. However, it is a kids show meant for preschoolers, they just want to watch cool transforming robots save the day.

Another thing with Kade is that it is so fun in the fandom sphere to add headcanons and backstory. I love a character who you can do that with.

[inkdragonworks]

Hope you all had a nice Halloween! This was another quiet month for development. Started off finishing a round of updates to the cutscene editor, and importing it over to Fragaria Park for future use.

When I finally finished with that, I rounded off the final cutscene for Chapter 2, where Poppin and Jupa run into the main antagonists again. Came to the conclusion that one of them, Grab, needed a couple more poses.

I performed similar work with some NPCs, named Ruby and Topaz. They're miners you can talk to in Chapter 2. Something I really want to try doing with this game is having previous places update a little bit if you happen to backtrack through them, as a way to make it less boring and give a sense of time passing. For enemies this is a matter of swapping some in and out, but for NPCs, I'd like to update dialogue and portraits and such to reflect it.

Speaking of backtracking, I created a Tram that would take Poppin and Jupa around Snow Machinia... after they find a pass later on. Like the elevator it's meant to be a convenient way of getting around. I'm trying very hard to design the map so that navigation makes sense.

One other avenue of navigation, that I may have mentioned, are colored doors that zip you around the mountain. You can see one of them up above with the yellow door.

These doors are secret tunnels built by an underground race of robed cave dwellers (Jupa ends up calling them "Clock Twerps"). A route nearby has one of them running away and dropping the key to this door.

There's two other keys before this that allude to clock twerps dropping these keys and such, so I really hope the connection sticks. In other parts of the game there won't be so much emphasis on it, but you can presume one of these critters dropped a spare key. What they use them for and why they need them... you'll find out eventually!

And then I started on some enemies that are meant to populate the caves between future chapters/areas. This first one is Stalactmic, a bat with a microphone nose and speakers for ears. They shoot violent soundwaves that bounce around.

And then there's Mackerel The Knife, a lanky fish with sharp bones that it uses to attack prey. There's two variants: the one here that swims near the top of water, jumping out to attack. And then another you'd encounter while submerged underwater, that ends up spinning and bouncing around in place.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The theme last month was rounding out content for optional, post-chapter places, excluding the Tram which is a prominent part of Chapter 3.

Chapter 3 is pretty intimidating. Of the 7 chapters I have planned, while I don't know if it'll be the longest, it is the most varied in terms of locations. While it's nice to get a break from making rocks, I'm still not confident with tilesets and backgrounds and picking good colors for them.

I'm planning to keep picking at the Chapter 2 enemies and additional areas first this month. That *may* involve the return of Dr. Thurston, and finally giving you an idea of what his gameplay involves, but I may end up using momentum from enemy work to finish up the ones for Chapter 3, as well as completing Rickity's boss fight.

I didn't end up drawing as much as I wanted in October, and I have been thinking of finding a way to talk about Poppin and Jupa's world more, but I'm still on the fence. My current job is pushing us to get software certifications, so some of my time is dedicated to studying. I'd still like to keep pace with the game though; I never feel like I'm doing enough. Until then, thanks for reading.

[railingsofsorrow]

chapter I | catharsis

summary: “Is there— is there something you need?” He's kind. He's so kind and his voice is better than she had ever imagined. 

All of all the things she could have said, what came out is something else entirely.

“Your hair is shorter.”

w.c: 3.4K

warnings/content: mentions of mass food poisoning; implied unhealthy relationships (it will be explored later); germaphobia; fluff.

A/N: WE'RE FINISHED WITH THE LETTERS! I was too excited to start writing the longer chapters with a detailed narrative. I know it took too long but.... here it is, I hope you enjoy! annnd, they finally meet!

navi

masterpost

series masterlist

whoever wants to be tagged for this fic, fill this out or dm me.

LETTERS — [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

CHAPTERS — [1] [2] [3] . . .

❝Catharsis❞

[n.] THE EXPERIENCE OF EXPRESSING STRONG EMOTIONS THAT PREVIOUSLY WERE BLOCKED.

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“Don't even start, Reid.”

Spencer pursed his lips, shifting on the passenger seat. “I didn't say anything.”

Derek scoffed, “I can hear you thinking.”

“Thought broadcasting is a common phenomenon that happens when one thinks others can hear your thoughts. That is not physically possible. It actually might be a sign of paranoia—”

Derek groaned loudly, begging for the gods above that the traffic went easy on him for five minutes. He needed five minutes to get to the other Interstate. Five. Minutes. 

Spencer let out a snicker beside him, having too much fun in being correct as always. He had told Derek beforehand that the safest option would be to take the alternative route, even if that meant it was slightly longer than directly taking the I-95. They still would get to Norfolk University's Student Center faster. 

Derek didn't listen to him and here they were, stuck in traffic just as Spencer predicted. 

In some way, this was good. 

Spencer hated being late to anything, which was why he always double-checks the time so he can get to any place earlier, just to be sure. Just in case. That's him. A pragmatic guy. 

But when he heard where the next case was going to be, he backtracked a little. 

Spencer has been corresponding with Iris Valencia through letters for the entire month of October. It felt like more, maybe years. He knows that this feeling is quite common for people who had found some sort of connection. They have affinity. A bond, if you will. It explains the reason for your comfort after you've just met someone. You used to be strangers, but you realise they like blueberry muffins too and then you have a coffee date scheduled in the afternoon. It is that simple, sometimes. 

Spencer could never relate to that. Well, at least, not before Iris. Although he has never invited her over for coffee and they haven't spoken in person yet. 

Yet.

But it felt like it. It felt like he has known her for a long time.

The case was in Norfolk University, 165,7 miles from Quantico. The place Iris worked as a microbiology professor and which she described that her whole department fell sick because of a supposed food poisoning. 

That hasn't been the first time a university has had that kind of situation. As she mentioned in one of her letters, the Old Dominion University — another university located in Norfolk — was also on the news about food poisoning. The difference was that it had been only a small group of students that suffered the outcome. NSU had it worst, a large group of people had to be sent to the E.R. 

The BAU was called in because of recent deaths in the area. When they eventually connected it to the food poisoning cases happening in the universities, Hotch divided the team into pairs to cover more ground. The suspect list was narrowed down to three students from Norfolk State University. 

“What did you say?” 

“You and Morgan are off to the M.E's office.” Hotch repeated as they left the precinct. 

“You're going to Norfolk State University?” Spencer asked a little dumbfounded. Derek gave him a confused look. 

Hotch halted beside the car door, the crease between his brows deepening. “That's where our first victim lived... Reid, are you alright?”

That finally seemed to be the minute Spencer snapped out of it. “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “Yes, sorry. I was just making sure. We'll— we'll go now.”

He felt like a thirteen-year-old boy with his first crush. The accelerated heartbeat, the shaky limbs, the sweaty palms. The not knowing what to do and mostly, what Emily always teased him about and what he only recently noticed: his IQ is, in deed, slashed to half when he's attracted to someone. 

Spencer had not met Iris yet. But he felt all of those things. Through letters. For the first time in his life he couldn't find a scientific explanation for what he was currently feeling. He hadn’t met her, he hadn't seen her, let alone heard her voice. He's only seen her delicate handwriting with her t's curved at the base and her barely noticeable s's and he was quickly roped to her personality. What Iris shared with him so far, that is. 

Spencer studied people for a living. That's a quick way of putting his occupation. He investigated behavior and he entered minds that were just as twisted as the crimes they committed. Some cases stay glued on his brain more than others — it's not like he was able to forget anything, although sometimes he wished he could.

Iris had interested him more than any quantum physics book ever could. 

Spencer knows she likes birds. That's one of the first things she shared with him, actually. He also knows that her favorite author is Haruki Murakami and Spencer has read all of her recommendations, he even bought more books besides the ones she mentioned. He knows Iris hates loud noises, clowns and that she takes her coffee black and plain. He knows how much she cares about her students and that she probably loves what she does because of the way she writes about it. He knows that she doesn't believe in magic, but he's determined to change her mind. 

To Spencer, Iris was like a book. He had no idea what the cover was like and he had not read the synopsis, but from the first page and on, he decided he wanted to know everything there is to know about the story. He wanted to see if there were small notes at the edges of every page or if there were underlined quotes. He wanted to figure out the mystery before the next chapter arrived, even if the ending might be completely different. 

He had come to terms with the fact that he wants to meet her in person for a while now. But Spencer didn't plan when that would happen or if it would happen. He doesn't even know if she would want to meet him. 

Now, he was walking into the University she worked at with her letter tucked into his satchel bag as he forced his brain to focus on what was supposed to be focusing on: the case. 

"Finally." Emily raised a brow as they walked into the room. According to JJ's message an hour ago, they were talking to the Head of the Biology Department because of a lead on one of the suspects. Hotch and Rossi were speaking with Penelope through the speakerphone in a corner of the room. "Took you long enough." 

Spencer shrugged at her jab, pointing at Derek. "I told him, he didn't listen." He was softly shoved in response.

"Shut up, Reid." 

"We're waiting for Mark Dawson to come back with a professor who supposedly has some information on Meredith Fitz." JJ clarified before Spencer could question her why they were all reunited in a professor's office. "They're all in class, we don't want to raise too much attention." 

"Sorry to keep you all waiting." 

A blond man walked into the room with a brunette woman on his trail. He was dressed in a color-coordinated attire, a russet dress shirt with slightly darker khaki pants. A complete contrast with the woman beside him, she wore light blue jeans along with a maroon V-neck sweater vest and a white t-shirt below. Her hair was in a loose bun but some thick curls were falling off. She was tucking them behind her ear constantly. 

Spencer noticed she seemed annoyed. 

"This is Doctor Valencia, she's our microbiology professor. Meredith is one of her students." 

Valencia? As in—

"I can speak for myself." Dr. Valencia said through gritted teeth, shaking hands with every agent. Spencer was too busy sweating like crazy in nervousness to take notice of Emily's and JJ's pointed gaze exchange after the professor's harsh statement towards Professor Dawson. "It's good to meet you, Agents, but I spoke to the police last night, I already gave my formal statement regarding the occurrences of the last week." 

The last person to be introduced was him. 

He heard something that sounded distinctly like a choked-up sound. He didn't pay much attention until Hotch started conducting questions regarding the case. Because that was what he was focusing on, the case. His hands tingling as she drew hers back, barely giving him a look. 

"The FBI?" Iris blinked in surprise. Only now did she seem to really acknowledge everyone in the room. Her shoulders tensed up. "So that wasn't just accidental food poisoning." 

"We're investigating that," Hotch said, being vague on purpose. "It came to our knowledge that Meredith Fitz is one of your mentees?"

Iris nodded, running a hand through her face. "Yes, yes, she is. Meredith is, um, completing her master's degree in post-mortem microbiology."

"Does she have access to your lab?" 

"All of my students have," Iris said. "We have practical classes." She visibly stiffened. "Is she a suspect?"

“We're looking into it,” Hotch responded.

Iris stepped out of her frozen state, interrupting another question being thrown her away.

“This isn't— This isn't right.” She begun. “Meredith is one of my top students. She's a nice girl, she wouldn't do this.”

Emily nodded sympathetic, “as he said, we are still investigating that information. But we do need to speak with her so that can be clarified.” Before Iris could speak, Mark beat her to it.

“She didn't come to class today, so that won't be possible, will it?” Mark sent a look towards Iris that anyone in the room could read it as a pretty clear insinuation. Iris wasn't paying attention to him, she was lost in her thoughts, gaze focused on a corner of the room. 

Spencer was itching to say something, but he stood quiet.

“Neither did Fabian Helley. Another top student of Dr. Valencia here.” He added, leaning back on his desk. “You know, maybe you should investigate this particular pattern.”

Derek let out a sigh. He was done with Dawson's little game. It was clear that the guy was trying to antagonize Iris. 

“Sir—”

“Please stop.” 

Every eye in the room snapped towards her voice. Iris clutched the back of her arm as if she was trying to give herself some form of grounding. Spencer could see how much she cared for each one of her students. He's read about it, it's all in her letters, but even his coworkers who didn't have that bonus glimpse into her character could tell that. 

They could also tell she was greatly bothered by Mark Dawson. And Spencer himself was starting to get bothered by him as well.

“I'll answer your questions and anything else in my office. Is that okay with you?” 

Nobody protested against that and Mark stood by his desk, arms crossed much like a petulant child. They followed Iris towards her office while exchanging curious glances. She did answer all of their questions, hesitating slightly whenever the questions were directed towards Meredith Fitz and Fabian Helley, mostly because she did not believe they could have done such a monstrosity as mass poisoning.

“What happened to being a germaphobe, pretty Ricky?” Derek nudged his shoulder, earning a confused look from Spencer. “You shook the professor's hand. Not a single complaint as always.”

“I was being polite.” His cheeks were burning. Did he shake her hand? Thankfully she wasn’t close enough to listen to their conversation.

Derek disguised a chuckle by soft coughing and Spencer glared at him.

"I'd like to apologize about Professor Dawson. He's been on edge ever since all this started." Iris informed as Rossi and Hotch left the room to call Garcia. 

"We can see that," Emily smiled reassuringly at her. "If you don't mind me asking, is there a particular reason why he seemed displeased about Fabian Helley?" Iris shifted on her feet and everyone else in the room pretended they were not listening in on the conversation since Emily had approached her in a rather private manner.

Still, Iris did not relent. 

"Mark is always displeased by something or someone." It was the last thing she decided to share after pondering to herself. 

It wasn't until Hotch came back into the room to send each of them to interview a few other witnesses — except for Spencer, who he requested to start the geographical profile since they had enough cases as of now – that Iris seemed to glance in Spencer's direction.

Dr. Reid, who she shook hands with and didn't even properly notice until now. Iris was generally a perceptive person, she caught things quickly. Though she's having trouble focusing ever since this morning, perks of a bad night's sleep. She blamed that for not realising him sooner, that was the only possible explanation, really. His honey-brown eyes switched to his colleagues as soon as she caught him looking. 

Iris’ breath caught in her throat. The Behaviour Analysis Unit is here. Spencer mentioned in one of his letters that he works for the FBI... She truly was slow today, wasn't she? 

“Dr. Valencia?” 

She snaps out of her daze to stare at a pretty blonde woman in a dark blazer, she wore a blue t-shirt below. Agent Jareau. That's her name.

“Sorry,” Iris cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks heat up at being caught staring at him. She must look like such a creep. “I zoned out. Were you speaking to me?”

She offers her a sympathetic smile before saying, “we don't want to take much of your time. We know you have lectures to teach. Thank you for your patience.”

“No need to thank me, Agent. It's all good.” Just as each of them gave her their farewells, she was stuck in an inner argument about whether or not she should talk to him. It's not appropriate. He didn't even recognize you, wake up.

Not appropriate. Not appropriate. NOT APPROPRIATE.

“Uh, Dr. Reid?” It was barely above a whisper as if she had been scared of saying it too loud. His body turning around fast was the indication she needed that he had heard her. Thankfully, his team was a little further down the hall to notice the small exchange. “Sorry, I don't mean to get in your way—”

She's completely awkward all of a sudden. Iris couldn't grasp her mind that she's been talking to this man for over a month, flirting, trauma bonding and now she couldn’t utter a word without sounding like she didn’t know a word in the English language.

“Is there— is there something you need?” He's kind. He's so kind and his voice is better than she had ever imagined. 

All of all the things she could have said, what came out is something else entirely.

“Your hair is shorter.”

Well, fuck, Iris. Congratulations, you have officially made a fool out of yourself!

“I did not intend to say that out loud, I am so so sorry, Spenc— Dr. Reid. I just, I saw a picture of yours because of an article that I read and—”

“Iris.” 

“And I—” she froze, watching a smile grow on his lips, which immediately brought warmth to her chest. Somehow, it didn't feel as if he was laughing at her. If he was then it's a beautiful sight to uphold regardless. “Yes?”

“I thought you didn't recognize me.” Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, shifting on his feet. She observed the worn-out sneakers causing her lips to twitch in amusement. One of Iris's assumptions was that Spencer was the kind of guy to wear fancy shoes — it only made sense because of the way he dressed — but that surprised her. At least she’s not the profiler. “You know, we've only been corresponding through letters so I figured you wouldn't...”

Her lips parted in astonishment. “You recognized me?”

His brows furrowed slightly, “yes. Your name is literally on the case file.”

“Oh.”

His eyes softened at her widened eyes as she processed the information. And then his brain pinched him with the fact that that's not how we're supposed to meet. Not because of a case. I'm supposed to invite her for coffee just so I can certify if she actually takes her coffee plain black with barely any sugar on it. Or a library, so we can ramble together about our favourite authors and books. 

Not.in.the.middle.of.a.case.

“You probably have a whole file about me, huh?” Her tone was playful and Spencer remembered how he grinned whenever he read her sarcasm through paragraphs of her handwriting. He learned to find Iris's humor through her words. Seeing it displayed right in front of him, full of vivid colors and a voice he tried to imagine for so long what it was like... He's speechless and already addicted to it.

“Our technical analyst probably has.” Spencer croaked out, forcing himself to avert his gaze to his feet instead. 

Iris’s eyes acquired a spark of excitement. 

“Is that the one with the clingy hugs?”

Spencer let his mouth quirk up on the edges, “yes. That's Penelope.”

“So you know all of my dark secrets before we even share them to each other.” He could hear her playful tone that carried a bit of uncertainty in the end.

“I have no reason to read your file,” Spencer said. Because he didn't. Not unless she was an official suspect. “So no, I don't know about any of your dark secrets.”

“That's good. You won't run for the hills yet.”

“What makes you think I would ever run?”

Their gazes remain on each other for a brief moment until one of them eventually caved and looks away, necks reddening, heartbeat increasing.

“Call me Spencer.” He said, squeezing the strap of his work bag until his fingers turned white. His phone vibrating in his pocket alerted him he'd taken too much time talking and less time working. He didn't want to go. “I-uh, I've read your letter. Just in case you think I've been ignoring you... I haven't. I just haven't had the time to write you back properly.”

Iris tilted her head as she leaned against the wall. “Maybe you don't need to write me back.” What am I doing? She thinks.

He cast her a look of puzzlement before his disappointment could take over, Iris was quick to clarify what she meant. 

“Maybe we could talk instead of write.” She added carefully. Confidence wearing thin. “Over coffee? Not today, of course, you're working and I'm working and we wouldn't have time but... It's—It's a stupid idea, isn't it? I'm sorry. Pretend I didn't suggest—”

“I would love to talk instead of write.” Now that I can finally hear your voice, I can stop trying to image what you sounded like through your letters. I don't want to ever stop listening to you. 

Iris gave him a look of surprise as if she had been expecting rejection because that just might have been the most out-of-place idea she had. Asking Spencer Reid out on a date while he's in the middle of a case where she works? 

“You need to go.” She mused, giving a pointed look at the vibrating cell in his hands.

“As soon as the investigation is over.” He told her after they'd exchanged numbers through their phones. Iris nodded, smiling wildly as he took a few steps back to leave her office but still didn't quite leave.

“As soon as the investigation is over, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer halts, holding onto the doorway as if stopping himself from leaving  — or staying. She didn't know which.

“Call me Spencer.” He repeated, grabbing his phone to pick up the call. Slowly, a smile etched its way into her face and his mouth followed the same action. 

“Okay, Spencer.”

Spencer nodded, holding in a smile. “I have to go.” I don’t want to.

“Please do. I don't want the FBI locking me up because I held you against your will in my office.” A joke. He liked hearing her jokes instead of reading them. “Be careful.” She requested in a slightly more serious tone, just like she always wrote in her letters addressed to him. 

“You too,” he said, taking his time to look at her one last time before he had to sprint off to where Derek required him.

It was very nice seeing you, Iris.

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A/N: hey everyone, welcome to the next phase of SBPP. I'm excited. next chapter you'll have a deeper glimpse into iris' character and some things will come to light. i'd love to read what you guys are thinking of this fic!

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz ; @cultish-corner ; @lover-of-books-and-tea ; @theonecalledrue

[nikibogwater]

Niki Blethers: Echoes of Wisdom gameplay (spoiler free)

I've only been posting about EoW's story/characters/aesthetic so far. I think it's time to gush about the gameplay itself for a while. Honestly, I would've done this sooner, but I've had the hardest time finding the words to describe just how GOOD this game feels when you're playing it. Like the title says, there's no spoilers in here, just discussion of raw gameplay, but I've gone ahead and put most of it under the cut to avoid clogging everyone's dashes.

First thing I noticed right off the bat is the movement and controls. I don't know what voodoo witchcraft the devs used to make this, but just moving around in the world feels so silky smooth. Which is excellent, because it turns out a surprising chunk of the gameplay involves rudimentary platforming.

You can jump in this game. Just, right off the bat, no items required, that's a thing you can do. And it's not like Link's little hops in Breath of the Wild either. These are proper jumps.

Outside of combat (which I'll get to in a minute), you mainly use the Echoes to explore. Building bridges, getting up on high ledges--stuff like that. There's no weird collision or confusing perspective that makes placing Echoes difficult. When you move, you move in the way you actually WANT to, and when you interact with an object, it goes the way you'd expect. I know this shouldn't surprise me--this is Nintendo after all--but janky platforming is one of my pet peeves when it comes to gaming, so I deeply appreciate how polished EoW's is.

EoW draws a lot of inspiration from Breath of the Wild when it comes to puzzle-solving. Once again, there are multiple different solutions to any given challenge, and progress isn't locked behind acquiring specific pieces of equipment. But unlike BotW, EoW doesn't give you all the puzzle-solving mechanics you will ever need at the start of the game. Instead, it merely provides you with the means to acquire those abilities for yourself.

Once you've made it through the tutorial section, you will only have a handful of basic object Echoes, plus a couple of weak monsters to help you fight. At this point, the world opens up for you, and you can go just about anywhere you want (though the story can only be progressed by completing Main Quest objectives, which are a bit more linear than they were in BotW). There's a real incentive to explore Hyrule here, because discovering new objects and creatures is the only way to expand your arsenal of Echoes.

Case in point, I've mostly just been focusing on the main quest storyline, and haven't spent as much time exploring all the different areas. As a result, I ended up finding myself encountering a puzzle in the main quest that I wasn't able to solve with my current collection of Echoes. I had to leave and go find new ones. If that sounds like a tedious backtracking nightmare to you, don't worry. This game is very generous with Waypoints that you can warp to at any time and from anywhere. Getting back to where I was after I'd found the Echo I needed took roughly 30 seconds.

Now, while I love the Echoes as a gameplay mechanic, they are also the source of my one and only complaint with this game: namely, the inventory system. Throughout the game, you will inevitably collect dozens, if not more than a hundred individual Echoes to choose from, and finding the specific one you want quickly becomes a chore after a few hours of gameplay. I've said this in another post, but Nintendo really needs to figure out a way to give us a customizable quick-select function--some way to equip just a handful of Echoes to a scroll wheel so that you don't have to bring up the pause menu to avoid cycling through your entire collection of Echoes. Coincidentally, this was also my biggest complaint for Tears of the Kingdom. I guess someone over at Nintendo just really enjoys scrolling through long lists of items. Anyways, it's not a huge issue, it's just one of those annoying things that feels like it should've been ironed out at some point during beta testing.

While EoW feels very comfortably Zelda-ish in all other aspects, the combat is radically different from what series fans are used to. I think that more than anything is going to be what makes or breaks this game for people.

Outside of Swordfighter Mode (which I will also get to in a minute), Zelda cannot do any direct damage to enemies by herself. If a monster gets close enough to hit you, you don't have any immediate defense or counter-attacks. This means that every encounter with an enemy has to be approached from a small distance. You have to think about how you're going to defeat enemies before you actually fight them, otherwise you will get overwhelmed.

While you are given plenty of objects to hurl at your foes, a lot of the combat will be fought by your own monster Echoes. There's a large variety of creatures to collect Echoes of, and they all have different abilities and fighting styles, which means certain monsters will fare better against one kind than another. But the game doesn't tell you about any of those advantageous monster match-ups. You have to figure those out for yourself.

Creature Echoes can be directed to attack anything you're currently Z-targeting, or they can be let loose to attack according to the whims of their AI. Echoes can also be directly moved around with the Bind ability, which is handy for repositioning any monsters who might've gotten stuck on some terrain or what have you.

You have a limited amount of energy to spend on Echoes, which means you can only have so many out at once. That energy is immediately replenished once an Echo is defeated or recalled, which allows for some pretty hectic swapping strategies that are a lot of fun to pull off. Individual Echoes have their own energy costs, based on how strong they are. So you can't just sic 3 copies of the same mini-boss on every Moblin who is unfortunate enough to cross you.

The best way I can sum it up is that the combat is like a turn-based strategy game set in real time. And as someone who has played an ungodly number of hours of Fire Emblem, I really enjoy it. I downright revel in strategically summoning minions to fight for me (my favorite attack is spawning in a bunch of crows like a malevolent little witch). However, if you're someone who prefers the more direct style of fighting from past Zelda games, this might end up being a deal-breaker for you.

Swordfighter Form is your other major weapon in combat. For a limited amount of time, Zelda can assume Link's abilities and weapons, allowing her to attack enemies directly and do a lot of damage in a short amount of time. But since this ability has limited duration, and the energy guage has to be manually refilled by collecting a specific item, it cannot be your go-to default way of handling every fight. Swordfighter Form can be upgraded as you progress through the game, allowing you to extend its duration and increase its moveset and damage output. But it's always going to be something that you use sparingly, mostly just to get yourself out of overwhelming combat scenarios.

So yeah, I think that just about covers the major gameplay mechanics. In conclusion, Echoes of Wisdom is not only its super cute aesthetic, banger soundtrack, and engaging story. Ignoring all of the more superficial stuff, at its core, this is a really good game, that feels really good to experience. If you've enjoyed any of the past 2D Zelda titles, or even just want to see what all the fuss is about, I genuinely cannot recommend this game enough. Regardless of its differences in presentation, Echoes of Wisdom was made with the same level of care and craftsmanship as any of the other entries in the Zelda series, and I've adored every moment of it so far.

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Still Subject to Change Chapter 10 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

——————————————————————————

I shifted a bit so he could see it and pointed to the pale mark on the back of my shoulder blades illuminated by the red fire, giving it a strange orange glow.

“How did you get that one??? What happened?”

He was back to his blubbery old self, damaged tooth forgotten for now at the sight of the pale line on my back.

“Well one time a guard almost got me, but i was a bit faster than him, and as i turned a corner i was suddenly bleeding from my back, Then I looked over my shoulder and apparently that guy just fucking threw his sword at me”

“Wait what? that's so dumb though, why would anyone throw their weapon like this?”

I shook my head at him as i didn't know why someone would do that either, it was a bad idea really, Why risk losing an expensive weapon?

But that was in the past and didn't matter now, I was just glad that I had no other lasting damage other than the scar.

“Whatever, it's late we should sleep like Rikaad said”

I shifted a bit over to flatter ground and flicked some rocks away so I could lay there without having sharp things poke me all the time.

Shifting to lay on my side and facing the fire I settled down for sleep.

Feeling something move at my chest area I looked down to see Robin curling up next to my thorax, probably trying to steal some warmth.

He looked like a kitten next to me and curling up like this didn't help to get rid of the mental image, so I just left him lying there and put my arm as a barrier between the forest and him.

Having him die while he was lying next to me would be rather traumatizing, not to mention if something were to get this close it would probably try to kill me too.

Settling down completely on the ground I closed my eyes and fell asleep basically trying to get as much sleep as I could before I had to take my watch shift.

Having expected to be woken up in the middle of the night by Rikaad to watch the camp i was surprised to find that when i awoke it was already morning.

I looked around confusedly and the first thing i saw was Robin still curled up next to me and fast asleep, The second thing I saw was Rikaad sitting next to my shirt and fiddling with the fabric, what was he doing?

“Rikaad? Why are you messing with my shirt? I only have one you better not destroy it”

I was still a bit sleepy and with Robin half leaning half lying on me I didn't want to move.

“I am not messing with it, i'm just repairing small holes so they don't tear”

He spoke quietly and focused back on his task.

It was weird, this was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me, so I better never tell him that I stole it from a clothesline a few months ago.

I was still a bit befuddled at the fact that i hadn't been woken up for a watch shift but looking closer at Rikaad he had bags under his eyes but somehow still moved like a man wide awake.

“Have you slept? Nobody woke me up for my shift watching, don't tell me you were awake the entire night”

He shook his head and continued patching up my shirt.

“I couldn't, not with Arthur still back there, so i started doing this instead, but i do hope that we can come up with a plan to get Arthur back today”

Now I felt a bit guilty, I knew Arthur wasn't captive anymore and actually fine if probably quite disgusted at what had happened.

I was glad that today we would backtrack a tiny bit and meet him somewhere in the woods.

I really hoped he would never tell anyone that i ate him but i couldn't realistically expect that it would stay a secret forever.

So bringing them back to Kamerasca and then leaving would be the best option as much as being alone again pained me.

“Done, try seeing if the stitches hold when you put it on”

He held a corner of the cloth in my direction and I tried to take it without waking Robin who was still snuggled up to me.

Sadly I was unsuccessful and he woke up, blinking owlishly against the morning light and flopping onto his back.

“Ugh, morning”

While Robin complained about the sun I put my newly fixed shirt back on and was happy to find that all the tears were expertly fixed, even the ones I had tried fixing had been redone.

He really was surprisingly good at this, Robin hadn't been kidding.

Standing up I just put some dirt over the still smoldering remains of the fire, I didn't want to cause a forest fire after all.

“So what is the plan? Just backtrack and see what we can do?”

Rikaad stood up and put his sewing supplies away.

“Ideally we will know what to do before we get there, but yes for now we backtrack and try to figure it out on the way”

Robin immediately came up to me, looking at me with wide eyes, holding his arms up as a signal that he wanted to be picked up again.

Obliging, I cupped him to my chest and started to walk after Rikaad the way we came from yesterday, all the while on the lookout for Arthur.

I could hear Rikaad quietly mumbling to himself, likely trying to come up with a plan even if I knew it was unnecessary.

He didn't know that Arthur was fine after all, and I couldn't tell him, but he'd see soon enough that Arthur was fine.

I hoped.

There was the possibility that he had gotten lost in the dark or been attacked by another manticore.

Shaking such thoughts out of my head I continued to trail after the dark haired human in front of me.

It was funny, his almost black hair and well toned skin let him blend in near perfectly into his surroundings.

I was really glad that he chose not to kill me when we first met, which is also another reason why I couldn't tell him about the pouch.

I was worried he'd change his mind on letting me live, I somehow didn't doubt he'd actually find a way to end me.

Lazily walking through the underbrush after him I kept my eyes open for any sign of Arthur, or worse.

I wasn't sure that the Maringand Guard had given up yet on following us and I hoped I didn't have to find out.

Hearing something snap up ahead my muscles tensed, ready to defend myself before hearing a loud shout.

“FUCK”

That was Arthur's voice!

He was right up ahead and yelling at something.

I hoped he wasn't in trouble but before I could react Rikaad had already pelted over the ground in the direction of Arthur, hands on his sword.

“Rikaad wait! Donovan let's go!”

Robin tugged at my shirt and pointed after Rikaad and I followed a bit more cautiously, what if some of the Guards did follow us this deep into the forest?

But actually seeing Arthur was a relief, even if he had somehow managed to get seriously stuck in a thornbush and was hitting it loudly swearing with a stick.

Rikaad had already begun helping him untangle and I set Robin down who immediately tried to help too.

“ARTHUR! Are you okay? How did you get away? How did you end up in a bunch of thorns?”

Robin was babbling excitedly again while worrying for his friend.

While they tried to get him out of the thorns by shoving all of them aside I decided to pick him up, lifting him out of the thorns, and he was clinging to my fingers as he dangled over the prickly bushes.

“FUCKING- i hate plants im going to set this green hell on fire one day!”

Setting him down in front of the other two he was immediately tackled into a hug by Robin.

He looked a bit miserable, like he hadn't slept at all and being stuck in a bush didn't do him any favors whatsoever if the countless bleeding scratches were any indication.

“Im fine, im fine stop fretting about me! I just want to get as far away as possible from THAT place so can we move along now?”

He really didn't seem pleased at all and very tired, more so than Rikaad.

“How did you escape? Or did they let you go? What happened?”

Now Rikaad was the one asking questions and I nervously glanced at Arthur.

Robin however did look at me with a puzzled expression and then back at Arthur.

I twitched nervously, I hadn't taken into account that Robin could also tell about it, but when he looked back at me he winked and put a finger over his mouth.

Looking back at Arthur he was fishing some leaves out of his hair and then looked back at Rikaad.

“I escaped through sewers and no i'm not going to elaborate, it was horrible enough already lets just go”

He walked past Rikaad with his shoulders hunched over and a miserably tired expression.

Baffled Rikaad went after him and I followed, scooping Robin back into my palms and holding him against my torso.

“Arthur? You look tired, maybe you should rest? I could carry you if you want?”

At my offer he looked up at me with tired eyes seemingly taking some time to comprehend what I had said before he shook his head.

“I'm fine, I can walk by myself, let's just go as far away as possible, okay?”

He continued stubbornly walking away from Maringand and was heading towards the mountains.

Weird, I had thought we had given up on going there, well the others at least.

It was still my plan to go there after I had dropped the small humans off at Kamerasca.

The thought of being alone again hurt more and more with each passing day but I continued to ignore it, there wasn't anything I could do about it anyway.

Following him and Rikaad I made sure to not hit my head on any of the tree branches that were getting denser the closer we got to the mountains.

“Donovan? Do you think he's okay?”

Robin whispered from my hands trying to get as close to my ears as possible without falling over.

“I think so? he said he was at least, i'm sure hes just tired and grumpy, you said yourself he's a grumpy man so i think he's okay”

He didn't look entirely convinced but sat back down into my palms, lounging lazily against my fingers and watching the ground beneath him.

“So wait a second, Where do we go now exactly? I thought we would be going back home and not to the mountains?”

Robin did have a point in that, I wasn't sure what route exactly the others wanted to go but I was pretty sure that Kamerasca wasn't in that direction.

“Well since we don't really know where we are and which direction to go to it might actually be a good idea going somewhere higher up to plan a new route, lest we end up in a different part of Maringand instead of Kamerasca”

Rikaad admitting that we were kind of lost wasn't what I expected to hear, but at least he was honest about it.

“So we are going to go higher up and see if we can find the way home like that? Are you sure about that? I thought the mountains were dangerous?”

Robin was now clinging to my fingers again, he was probably a bit scared of the mountains from all the rumors there were in Kamerasca about them.

“It'll be fine if something does show up i'll just kick it as hard as i can”

I tried to reassure him while still trailing after Arthur and Rikaad.

Rikaad was trying to get Arthur to stop for a second so he could assess his wounds, which consisted of multiple scratches and a possibly broken nose.

Arthur ignored it and just kept stomping forward and I sort of expected him to collapse at any moment now.

It was weird, for him to be this tired he really must have been awake the entire night and who knew how long he had been stuck in those thorns.

Rikaad suddenly turned to me motioning for me to lean down.

“Can you help me for a second? I want to make sure all those scratches are clean, we can't risk an infection out here and he is being stubborn, so could you pick him up for a bit?”

Nodding and setting Robin next to him on the ground I went over to Arthur and Picked him up.

Immediately he began weakly cursing and tried to kick my fingers, sitting down next to Rikaad I held the angrily twitching form of Arthur in front of him.

“Calm down, I just want to make sure those cuts don't get infected, you said yourself you escaped through sewers right? I don't think a river bath is going to get rid of all of the nastiness from that so keep still and let us help”

Arthur went still at this, seemingly only now realizing that the story he had told would mean that he had crawled through some Nasty stuff.

“Ugh fine but i still want to put as many miles between myself and Maringand, at least i didn't have to swim in that stuff so just get it over with”

He went limp and I carefully set him on the ground where we apparently now made an impromptu camp in the middle of the day.

Robin somehow had found a lot of dry branches and was putting them together in a heap to make a fire while Rikaad pulled a metal cup from somewhere and instructed Robin to go fill it with water at the river.

While Robin did that Rikaad inspected Arthur's broken nose and dabbed the dirt away with a small Piece of cloth, much to the protest of Arthur who flinched every time it touched his nose.

I feel kind of useless right now. 

I was too big to properly help while Robin could go get water and Rikaad was able to take care of Arthur's wounds, and I was just sitting here next to them completely unable to do anything helpful.

It sucked, it was really dumb that I had been struck by this stupid curse, and it felt more and more tempting to just try and yank it off even if I destroyed my hand in the process.

But there was no guarantee that just ripping it off my wrist with force would actually break the curse.

I might just stay a giant, but then with only one working hand which Honestly was even worse.

Since I couldn't help the smaller men I instead went to be on the lookout for anything that would come near us.

At least i could help by making sure no uninvited beings showed up, The last we needed right now was another Manticore thinking it could snatch up a human.

Luckily the only thing that came from the forest was Robin with the water which he put on the fire Rikaad had made in the meantime.

Seeing them move as a unit like this to help Arthur I felt kind of…jealous? No that wasn't it, it wasn't jealousy more like..envy.

I envied them for the fact that they had someone to rely on when they needed it, and I envied them for not having to be alone all the time.

I envied them for being human with human friends, something I could never have as a Bastard.

I hated myself for being the son of an Elven man and Human woman.

I sort of wished that my mother had never met the pointy eared man that promised her the world, and then ditched her as soon as he could when he found out that she was pregnant.

Well, lamenting about a past I couldn't change wasn't going to help anything, and at least my mother stuck around as long as she could before dying of typhoid.

Watching the small men patch up Arthur was even a bit endearing, they did their best with whatever supplies they had while Arthur looked close to nodding off after probably spending the entire night awake.

After some time they had patched him up as god as they could and put all of their stuff away.

Leaning down again after they were finally done I put my hand down on the ground as I was sure Robin would want to be carried again.

But instead of Robin climbing on Rikaad dragged a tired looking Arthur over to me.

“Does the offer of carrying him still stand? I think he might fall asleep standing up at this point”

I nodded and very carefully let Rikaad drag the at this point half asleep Arthur into my hands.

He really must have not slept at all since i had sent him off downstream, Rikaad hadn't either but he seemed to be fine aside from some darker circles under his eyes, he really was the scariest out of the three.

Cupping the tired form of the small human closer to my chest I started walking after the other two small men again.

The mountains did look a lot closer now than before our Capture and I hoped once there we could see which way to take to get them back to Kamerasca.

Until then though I would do my best to be helpful, and for now that meant carrying a sleepy and bruised Arthur while the other two led the way.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was now two days after we escaped from Maringand and Arthur had almost completely healed aside from a slightly crooked nose and the obvious bruising.

He also had kept his word about not telling Rikaad about how he actually escaped, which I was glad about.

We had gotten a lot closer to the mountain in the time we had walked even if i still thought that if i carried all of them it would have been faster but so far the only one that had never actually willingly climbed into my hands was Rikaad, and he made no sign of ever wanting to do that.

It was fine that he didn’t, I just wish walking after them didn't feel so awfully slow.

It did make sense that i was able to walk a lot faster than they were seeing as my legs were taller than them, none of the humans even reached up to my knees.

At the very least we were now very close to the mountains and I could see Wyrmhurst mountain in front of me, only a few minutes walk away and I realized for the first time how steep it actually was.

I marveled at the fact that something Steeper than a barn roof didn't just collapse in itself, which also presented the question how the fuck anyone was supposed to climb this thing.

The narrow woods surrounding us weren't any help either as I got stuck more and more often in the branches as the trees got bigger the farther we traveled and Rikaad had to patch my shirt twice now.

In short, this sucked, a lot.

We probably would have to go around it a bit to see if there were any less dangerous places to climb.

But maybe we got lucky and the first place we found was at least somewhat climbable.

Expecting either more Forest or just a wall of stone, I was surprised that we suddenly emerged in a little clearing that had a big Oak Tree stump that went up to be over my head, and surprisingly an askew hut that had been directly embedded into the cliffside of the mountain.

Judging by the smoke coming out of one of the three chimneys it was even inhabited.

“Who the fuck would live out here of all things?”

Arthur had apparently seen the smoke too, and I did have to give him right on this, This was out in a Forest that was widely regarded as dangerous and deadly as proven by the fact that I had to fight off at least three more manticores in the two days we had traveled.

At least most of the Wildlife left us alone due to my size but it was still annoying, and mosquitoes did not care how big I was so they were the major annoyance anyway.

But it was still strange why someone would live out here of all places.

“No idea maybe they got banished or something, i think we should just leave it alone”

I really didn't want to mess with someone that had survived out here, human sized no less as indicated by the hut.

If someone could survive out here they probably had a lot of skill and I wanted to keep my hide intact a bit longer.

I didn't want to walk backwards in case one of the humans was right behind me so instead I turned my head around to scout the area, Rikaad doing the same, trying to figure out where to go to not intrude in this place.

Suddenly I heard an unknown voice from somewhere above me and I looked around to locate it.

“What do we have here? Humans? This far out and traveling with an Ardua no less, how strange”

I could not find where the voice was coming from, it sounded like it was above me somewhere between two big trees and I hoped that I was still the only giant here.

I didn't know if I could fend off an actual one and I'd rather not test that.

And what the hell was the voice even talking about? The human comment made sense but the rest not so much.

Feeling Robin hide behind my leg I decided to respond to the voice and see if it was hostile or not.

“Who are you? What do you mean by that? And where are you? I don't like talking to disembodied voices”

The other two humans had also shifted to stand closer to me, likely not wanting to suddenly find themselves face to face with a possibly hostile being.

“You can call me Oakley, and I'm right here, you have to look up to the tree young Ardua, i'm right in front of you on one of the branches”

Hearing the voice who introduced itself as Oakley say that they were in the tree in front of me, I tried my best to actually find them, but I couldn't make out anything.

It seemed even the others couldn't see anything either judging by Robin's reaction.

“I can't see anything? Are you sure that you are there? Or are you messing with us?”

“Look again”

This time I could actually make something out, but only because it was moving, having blended in perfectly before due to standing absolutely still.

The figure that showed itself was wearing a dark green patterned cloak that hid most of their other features.

But I could make out the Pointiest ears I had ever seen poking out from between hair that had the color of oak bark, and strangely bent legs with weird birdlike feet that had two of their toes bent backwards to grip the branch the figure was sitting on better.

After a second I could also make out a sort of tail swaying behind them that was split into two at the last part showing that their skin was the color of Stripped oak wood.

If they had not moved I would never have been able to tell that they were there.

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

I still plan to my biannual HKtober prompts and like I mentioned last year, I'll make the prompts weekly this year instead of daily!

I don't know much I'll be able to do these personally BUT have the discord copy pasted message where I explain what these prompts could look like. I'll make an official post with more clarification maybe so if something feels unclear, odd or you if you have suggestions to improve prompts like this let me know!

Notice that the prompts can be applied for any art format so it's not just drawing! You can type about them like answering questions or even write a short story or make a video of the experience etc. YOU get to choose what moment within (or broadly around) the prompts you want to work with and how! I want these to be as open as possible (which I understand can be detrimental but it relies on your experience you remember within the game so it's still prompting something?)

Anyways

:

Since they will be weekly prompts, I can choose something broad and the general idea is for prompts to cover the span of the gameplay sort of. I think I need five prompts if it's gonna be one per week? So they could be something like

1. (Avg 30th- Oct 6th) The Beginning: First impression? A moment that made you feel like this will be a fun game? Something you saw or heard that made you start the game? A moment at the start that really drew you in? Dirtmouth.

2. (Oct 7th- Oct 13th) Finding your way: Moment you got lost? An area or a place of an area that you favor? Some place you like you revisit? Backtracking? Maps and Conifer

3. (Oct 14th- Oct 20th) The struggles/hurdles: Hardest moment in the game? What part made you feel super victorious for overcoming it or made you feel clever or cool or lucky? Parts that felt like you'll never get through or haven't enjoyed as much or didn't have fun with at all? Bosses or platforming

4. (Oct 21st- Oct 27th)The favorite bit: Kind of self explanatory lol. Any moment or a character that left a huge impression? Favorite music or art of the game? A concept or thought that stayed on your mind the longest or still thinking about today? Something you didn't expect but surprised you in a good way? Overall impression of the game?

5. (Oct 28th- Nov 3rd) Free space/Something small you put love into: Any dialogue or items or designs that you adore? A theory that is either canon or not that you enjoy a lot? Something you like the fans added to the experience (characters, ideas, worldbuilding, mods etc.)? A special thank you to someone for getting you into hollow knight or is keep having fun with you even years later? Mr Mushroom theories lol

NOTE: these might be edited by the time I post an official prompt post!