#I think there were gonna be more of them as in-between fragments

[xivu-arath]

even infinity

The Worms have risen from the Fundament’s depths, and just the sight of them bulking above the waves is enough to scatter their army. Auryx allows this. It is right for only the three of them to be able to approach their gods.

They roil and loop around each other, breaking the surface like monuments infested with uncountable, seething life. Out of their element and in the weak dawn light they are even more vast, and seeing them in Kaharn’s familiar waters aches like a lost limb. His eyes want to find an easier horizon, but he does not look away.

Above them, the wound peels back the sky, laying bare stars and the closest moons. Somewhere beyond them Taox hides, planning their demise as they pin down hers. That their vengeance has led them all here feels right. Of course they would reach the moons that were arrayed against them, whose doom had driven the King mad with fear.

He will lead his people out of the Fundament, and in surviving the God-Wave prove to be greater than every truth they had been taught. They are not meant to burrow and cling to the skin of a world that doesn’t want them. They will not be swept away and forgotten.

The stars are waiting for them, and an infinite horizon.

EVEN INFINITY HAS AN END, Yul says. YOU MIGHT REACH IT, OH NAVIGATOR OURS.

They ready the cutters at Xivu Arath’s order, a thousand ships armed and armoured by every secret Savathûn could dredge up. Then they sail through the wound and rise into orbit, the Worms coiling around and ahead of them to secure the ascent.

They devour the horizon, and Auryx does not look back.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Panty-Flashing Them

Warnings: Implied Smut, Mean! MW2, Dominant! MW2, Victim/Reader Blaming, Slut-Shaming, Reader Getting Pimped Out, Mention of a Leash, Allusions to Injury, Mentions of Blood, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

Ghost is a territorial man. So seeing you flash not only him but Johnny as well made something in him simmer.

It wasn’t rage, for this little accident, regardless of how intentional it was, was not your fault. If he had to place it, he’d attribute it to…

Lust.

As was evident in how he excused himself from the gathering of the 141 and Los Vaqueros in your living room, grabbing you by your arm.

He stowed you away. Dragged you to a desolate laundry room and gripped you by your thighs. You gasped, gripped onto him. Felt something hard rub against you.

Ghost threw you atop the washing machine and gave you a harsh stare as he watched you try to fight the feeling building within from the machine’s buzzing and shuffling.

“Go on then, Doll,” he rasps, eyes hard and the throbbing monster between his legs harder. He palmed himself. Remorse was not in his nature. And neither was mercy.

“Seein’ as you were practically beggin’ the others to fuck you, go and put on a show.”

His voice lowered. He stood between your legs, frame blocking you from any form of help or salvation.

“Just for me.”

König

König had been sat on your sofa, an action figure in a house for a doll half his size, and you’d bent over to retrieve something from beneath the TV cabinet.

The fact that you were wearing a pair of König’s shorts was already clouding his moral compass. Seeing your underwear peeking out beneath them was what sent him over the edge.

As you remained bent, cheek pressed to the floor as you reached for what you’d lost, you didn’t hear König approach. Didn’t know he’d even moved from the sofa until something thick and hard was pressed to the back of you, followed by two heavy hands holding you at the waist, and a slow, shuttering breath.

“Don’t move,” König told you. “Stay like this.”

Slowly, he pressed deeper into you. You could feel his restraint unwinding second by second.

It was when he bent over you, had his broad chest pressed to your back, that you knew you weren’t escaping. And you weren’t backing down.

“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you cum, bleed or pass out.” König’s voice held no humour, but you could feel the franticity building in it.

He reached round, gripped your chin. Made you look at him. His smile was sharp, his features dark.

“Whichever comes first.”

Soap

Johnny pulled the leash tighter around your throat when you tried to protest your innocence. Tried to make him see reason.

“Doesn’t matter that it was ‘just an accident’.” He mimicked you, made you sound weak, whiny. His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. His knuckles turned white around the leash.

His shadow loomed over you from your position on the bed, on your hands and knees while Johnny presided over you with an iron fist.

Tears obscured his silhouette. Made your eyes glassy.

“Aww, Did I upset you, Bonnie?” Johnny’s tone held a gruffness that didn’t even try to hide the anger running beneath.

He huffed, a mocking laugh.

“How’d’ya think I felt when you were practically spreading your legs for Simon?”

Again, you tried to tell him what really happened. Tried to incur any fragment of mercy Soap would spare you.

He pulled on the leash again. Tighter. You gasped, hands flying up to the leather around your neck, trying to loosen it – to plead for Johnny’s favour – as the air was knocked out of you.

“Oh no, you don’t get to talk.” He said. He stepped to you. The bulge in his jeans became ever more noticeable. Impending.

“M’gonna use you like the whore you are ‘til my cum’s leaking out of every hole in your body.”

Valeria

“Do I look like I fucking care, Darling?” Valeria circled you, her belt wrapped around her hand, a glint of darkness in her eye.

Wrists and ankles duct-taped to the chair, you could do little to follow her. To understand her intentions.

“Do you really think whatever little lie you pass off as an excuse can quell the fire you’ve set?”

Before you could attest your innocence, beg for forgiveness, Valeria’s belt came down across your thighs. Crying out, you flinched, tried to withdraw, pushing your chair back in the process.

Valeria lunged forward and gripped the chair by the arms, pressing your skin into the wood, and dragged you back.

Her face twisted into a visceral snarl, the portrait of evil.

“Please, Valeria, I’m begging you–”

“Oh, you’ll beg for me, alright.” Valeria looked down at you, her face to yours. Just shy of your noses touching. With bared teeth, she smiled.

“I won’t stop until you do.”

Price

“If you wanted attention that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Price had your arms and legs bound to a hard, wooden chair while a thick ream of cloth had your mouth gagged. He stood over you, arms crossed over his front, a glint in his eye. He sighed, brought his hands to grip your tied forearms. Pressed them into the armrests.

You winced.

“What…possessed you to go and show your arse to Alejandro and the rest of the team?” His voice reflected a tone of ponderment found only in Sarcasm’s extended family tree. And it showed with the faux confusion written in his brow.

“Do I just not cut it for you?” He leaned in. The chair creaked. Your arms hurt. He didn’t let up.

“Am I not enough to keep you from throwing yourself at the nearest soldier?”

He watched you, his stare narrow. You shook your head, eyes wide. You tried speaking through the gag, tried to tell him that he was the only man you loved, but you both knew your efforts were futile.

He withdrew, gripped his belt, adopted his default stance. He heaved a deep breath.

“Come in, lads,” he called behind him, not taking his gaze off you. Your stomach tightened.

A thin smile stretched across Price's lips as he watched your eyes widen, your gaze following Simon, Soap, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro as they filtered into the room.

Price bowed at the waist, lowered his voice so only you could hear.

“Seeing as you’re so keen to show ‘em what’s under your clothes, I’m gonna let them use you ‘til you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Horangi

Hong-Jin popped the top button of his jeans, keeping his gaze trained on you, spearing you with a dark stare.

“Did you enjoy giving König and I a little show, Dear?”

Sarcasm nestled in his tone, a viper in a den. But the excitement running parallel beneath it, just shy of its transparent underbelly, was evident.

Hong-Jin slid the zip of his jeans down. Pulled the denim over his hips.

“It’s only fair that I…” He took your hand, placed it at the hem of his underwear. Dipped beneath the band.

His skin was scorching. Something pulsated beneath your fingers.

The implication sat heavy in his tone. In his eyes.

“Return the favour.”

Alejandro

“I didn’t know I was dating such an attention-seeking whore.”

Alejandro’s voice was the roll of thunder across a darkened valley, the weight of a downpour of knives settled into his tone.

Hands behind his back, he stood over you, having resigned you to sitting on your knees, the hardwood floor pushing against your joints.

“Luckily for you, I’m not the type to hold grudges.” A smile played at his lips. One you knew not to trust.

“But he is.”

Alejandro looked to the door, where, from beyond its frame, emerged Rudy. His face held a similar, serpentine pallor, his lips drawn up into a thin smile. Venom in his veins.

“Wasn’t expecting to get blue-balled by (Y/N) earlier, Ale,” came Rudy, his usually sugared demeanour having dropped, the veil between what he was and what he showed to the world slipping away. Retreating.

Alejandro gave him a knowing look. He turned back to you.

“Why don’t you be a good little doll and put your face to the floor. Just like we practised.”

The memory of leashes, lashings and tears flooded your memory. You held back a  wanton whimper.

Alejandro’s voice dropped. “And let Rudy see the rest of what you promised him.”

Rodolfo

“I don’t want to have to do this, Cariño. Rudy stood over you, his hands on your shoulders and his face dark. Grim.

His hold on your shoulders tightened.

“But I can’t let your behaviour go…”

He searched your eyes for the right word. His brow furrowed when he found it.

“Unchecked.”

He sighed. Pushed down on your shoulders.

“Come on, Angel. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He told you, pushing harder until you bent to his will.

Now, on your knees, you could see how desperately he needed you.

One hand came to your jaw, thumb trailing to your lip, pulling your mouth open. The other slid down to his belt, sliding it from the buckle. It hissed, pulled tight against the metal. You swallowed.

Rudy’s breath shuttered, and you could tell from the way his hand clenched, the way he slipped the belt from his jeans like a snake, that he was enjoying this. Much more than he wanted to let on.

“Now remember, mi Amor, no teeth, no biting.” His head tilted. Condescending. “Or I’ll bite you back.”

Graves

He can barely contain himself.

It was only the briefest of flashes. It wasn’t even intentional. But something about your shy smile after the fact once you realised what you’d done sent a vicious little idea to Graves’s head.

He starts stealing all your underwear. Gradually, yet in large enough volumes that he doesn’t have to wait longer than he can handle without his reward.

One day, you come into his office, face warm and tugging an oversized shirt over the top of your thighs.

“Missing something, Darlin’?” Graves drawls. Your eyes narrow at him. You know he’s had something to do with your underwear’s disappearing act.

He puts his papers down, sighs, and rests the back of his head in his hands against the backrest of his chair.

“How about you flash me again. Slowly, now.” His eyes glint with a dark mischief and want.

“Y’don’t wanna know what happens if you don't do it the way I like it.”

Gaz

“Oh, Darling, look what you’ve done,” Gaz’s voice carried despite the thickening tension in the room. Neither of you needed to look down to see what he was referring to.

Despite the chastising tone in his voice, his eyes were warm. Kind, almost.

“If you wanted my attention so badly, you only had to ask.”

He stepped towards you, placing a hand under your jaw. He smiled.

“It’s only fair that I reward you for being so creative, isn’t it ?”

His other hand came to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your tank top until it fell, leaving the sweeping juncture between your neck and shoulder exposed.

Has bit back a shuttering breath.

Despite his gentile voice, an angeline choir, the soundtrack of mercy, there lay a hunger in his eyes, in his barely-restrained grip, that suggested a beast lurked beneath his pretty boy exterior.

And you knew from the way he told you to “Get on the bed – be good for me,” that you’d be seeing it tonight.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[project-sekai-facts]

Fes gacha updates

Before I say anything else I'm just gonna say the vast majority of the fes updates are incredibly disappointing, especially if you're F2P. Like seriously if you're F2P don't expect to come out of this post entirely happy. I can be mean to clpl because I'm F2P and this is total bullshit. Anyway.

Starting from the fes gacha on this sunday, Colorful Festival will now be known as Bloom Festival! It also has a newly designed logo as seen in the picture above, complete with flowers in all the unit colors, including Virtual Singer, which pretty much confirms that all 26 characters will be getting 2nd fes cards. The good thing about this confirmation is that unless they fuck with the schedule again and put 3 characters on one banner a few times, this means the story will continue past 6th anniversary, something there'd previously been concerns about. There's only 9 fes banners before 6th anniversary (10 if you include 6th anniversary), but you need 13 banners to cover everyone. So that's really nice news!

More information that we were told on stream, as well as story and gacha lineup predictions can be found below the cut!

Unfortunately we have not yet been told what exactly the differences between colofes and bloomfes are in terms of story. Based on the whole journey to bloom/world bloom (internal name for WLEs) thing, I reckon it could be something like the characters' Fragment SEKAI expanding, like what happened with the Tree SEKAI in Let Your Song Resonate. It would also tie into the plot of WLEs, so it would make a lot of sense. Some other speculation I've seen since March is that they might have entirely new Fragment SEKAI, which I think is entirely plausible due to character development and changes in their personal conflicts, and another was that these could be like bandori's kirafes cards, which focus on relationships. While I think this would be interesting, and makes some sense since prsk does take influence from bandori in some ways due to sharing a parent company (craftegg), I feel like they would've mentioned that.

We do know a lot about the differences between bloomfes and colofes on a meta and gameplay level, and unfortunately this is the not f2p-friendly part.

The main gimmick of bloom festival that differentiates them from colofes is that bloomfes cards will have 2 skills! One skill will apply for the untrained card, and one for the trained card. You can switch them at any time, presumably by flipping the illustration when it's on your deck. There's a catch though. The catch is that to train bloomfes cards, you will need 3 Wish Drops (the items used to level up area items past lvl10) on top of all the regular 4* training materials. All players will be given 3 wish drops for free, but aside from that these are incredibly hard to earn for casual players due to being the most expensive item in the event shop at 50000 tokens per wish drop. Basically the game is forcing you to sacrifice other shop rewards, tier, or spend money. Not that colopale needs it when the game earns millions a month.

(translated graphic from @/pjsekai_eng on Twitter)

The skills are also not the most fairly balanced. That's an understatement actually. You have to be a massive whale to get the max skill on these cards, it is literally impossible for casual players.

The untrained card skills vary between virtual singers and human characters. For vsingers, at max level, they give a 90% score boost, but gain +30% boost for every different unit type on your team (though it only applies to two types max, giving you a total of 150% bonus). This is pretty easy to achieve, so that's good for scoring purposes!

For human characters, you get an 80% base score boost at max skill level. By selecting one other card in your team, you get an additional boost of half of that card's skill increase (eg: if the card selected has a score boost of 100%, the bloomfes score boost will get 50% added to its base 80%, for 130% total). I'm not sure if this card is selected manually or automatically. But nonetheless this is a pretty good skill too!

The issue lies with the trained skill. At max level, it gives a base score boost of 110%, which is pretty good, but the additional boost is scaled by your Character Rank, with +1% score boost per 2 ranks (eg: a player with a CR40 Miku will get a bonus 20% score boost) on top of the 110, for 130% boost total). The issue here is that the absolute max boost you can get require CR100, which is ridiculously hard to get without spending money, and is near impossible to do for multiple characters. In other words, this skill is for your oshi, and you have to be willing to spend a lot or grind a lot for said oshi. And also be lucky enough to even pull your oshi from the gacha. It's incredibly geared towards P2P players and is totally unfair for F2P players. There's also the issue of the fact you need 3 wish drops to even unlock this skill, another thing that is against F2P players.

Anyway, let's move on to something a bit more fun! Who is gonna be fes? Here's an overview of how it's looking right now:

There's three possible ways that the fes cards could be paired up: using the same pairs as colofes, using different but still same-unit pairs, or using mixed unit pairs.

I think the second or third option is more likely. If you wanted to do the first option, it would have to be Honami/Shiho, Haruka/Airi or An/Toya, but there's still chance that An could be on Kohane5, Haruka only very recently had a card (though this has not stopped other characters, and Shiho is quite likely to be on the event.

In terms of alternate same-unit pairs, I think Kanade/Ena and Airi/Shizuku are the most likely. Kanade and Ena are both reward cards on the current Mafuyu event, so it could be a sign that they'll be fes, plus Kanade hasn't had a 4* since February. However, both of them have a lot of 4*s right now, with Niigo having the most in the game overall. Alternatively there's Shizuku and Airi. Airi is the second-most due for a lim out of all the characters, with her last one being released at the end of October last year. Shizuku only very recently got a card, but again this has not been much of an issue in the past, with Minori, Tsukasa, and Emu all getting fes cards very soon after an event where they got 4*s (or an event where they got unit-gacha lims for Tsukasa and Emu).

However if you wanted to go for mixed unit pairings, the most likely options are probably Ichika/Kanade, Honami/Kanade, or Airi/Ena. However if the june event isn't 2-B lims, the Hinomori sisters and Saki/Airi are also options. Ichika hasn't had a 4* since white day, neither has Kanade, and Honami hasn't had one since Rise as One. However, we know they will be getting cards soon, and under the assumption that 2-B lims happen, it seems a bit unfair to give 3/4 of Leoneed lims just before WLE. I don't have an argument against Airi/Ena, it's definitely the most likely out of these options.

However, just for consistency I'm willing to bet that they'll stick with same-unit pairs. In that case, I think either Kanade/Ena or Airi/Shizuku is very likely. Maybe I'm leaning a bit more towards Airi, but only because she's more in need of a lim.

But just to throw one last thing out there: the next update will implement an increased, 25% event bonus for default virtual singers, a bonus that pretty much exclusively applies to fes cards since players are far less likely to use the default vsinger 1*s and 2* on their team. So there's a chance, albeit slim, that they could throw us under the bus with Len/KAITO fes. I still think Kanade/Ena or Airi/Shizuku is more likely.

Anyway, that's all for now. Some of these updates are a bit disappointing but I'm interested to see the cards and read their stories! I'll update this post if we learn any more information.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I see an ask and became curious too, how is YOUR 🫵 opinion about the murder time trio? For a long time I thought they were just a fandom delusion, and only recently did I realize that there is a LOT about them (even though none of them have any canon relationship). I know your focus is on Killer, but I think it's interesting to know what you think of these two additions the fandom gives him (additions being Dust/Murder and Horror)

This one’s gonna be kinda short ‘cause I really agree with @signanothername’s interpretation of the trio quite a lot.

I do think Murder will always be a flight risk and Killer is pretty much placed on babysitting/warden duty. I doubt Killer truly gives a single flying fuck about their histories or pasts, but that doesn’t mean he won’t use the information he knows against them whenever he wants to be a bitch. Or even if he just wants to figure out what would happen.

I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Killer had a loathsome tendency to fuck around with them both, like they’re interesting lab rats. Killer’s SOULs in jars, except they still get to keep their SOULs.

I’m sure Killer will occasionally divulge information and tips about Nightmare, the castle, whatever he’s learned. Simply because he likes controlling the flow of information, and he likes being able to have some control over others’.

He might take up a “teacher” role at some point just for the hell of it, assuming he doesn’t quickly lose interest in Dust and Horror and fucks off somewhere on his own again. I doubt he’d really care to listen to or follow either Dust or Horror on the field unless Nightmare enforces it or it’d be more beneficial to do so.

I’m sure Dust and Horror would keep their distance from him, simply because Nightmare always seems to have an eye on Killer and they don’t want to be involved in that. Killer would notice, but wouldn’t care all that much. The other two likely view him as Nightmare’s toy or pet, so they keep away.

I’m sure Dust would have a problem with how Killer doesn’t care or even attempt to escape. (Assuming this is something Dust or Horror even know. Maybe Killer keeps that a little secret, instead just allowing/wanting everyone to think he chose to join Nightmare. Let people think he has more control than he does.)

Dust and Killer might occasionally talk shit about the human together and Killer might make an idle comment on how he sees Papyrus too, but I doubt it’d really go anywhere.

Killer doesn’t like talking about his past or being reminded of it, and he doesn’t even consider himself Sans anymore—he’s unlikely to connect to the concept of Papyrus, a brother, friends, or family the way Dust and Horror do and can.

He probably knows, logically, he once was Sans—and so therefore he likely had a brother, a Papyrus. But he also doesn’t..connect to those fragmented memories, so long ago and so alien to him he struggles to tell if they’re real or not.

In Killer’s eyes, not killing somebody is probably a sign of tolerance. Friendship is..something more complicated, tainted by foggy memories of Papyrus and his experiences with his closest and longest “friend,” Chara. So at most he probably just considers Dust and Horror coworkers he likes to fuck around with for fun—because considering them friends has implications for Killer.

There’s probably also this sense of unspoken “if you break them, you fix them” thing between Killer and Nightmare. Like, Killer’s allowed to play and mess around with the new additions, but he cannot push them too far that they become useless to Nightmare. And if he does, he has to put them back together.

So I’d imagine that whenever Killer manages to drag Murder back from his escape attempts, he’s also kinda required to play nurse for a bit and get Murder back into working shape. It’s a humiliating and dehumanizing experience for Murder, but Killer does pretty well in the physical sense of caring for someone—not so much on the emotional and mental front though.

Horror and Killer also have their “not eating” issues. Horror because of his famine and 7 year starvation, Killer for undisclosed canon reasons—possibly because of his own food trauma (such as food triggering sudden emotions or memories, like ketchup or spaghetti), perhaps his dissociation and unawareness of his limits, maybe eating doesnt inspire any emotions in him very often, maybe starving himself helps gain a sense of control. Who knows, but it’s something that they have in common.

They’d probably all work together when they have to—they’re all dealing with the same shitty boss—but I doubt their idea of friendship would be typical. These guys probably torment eachother and it’s taken as something almost affectionate even.

But they’ll probably be some invisible, unspoken line between Horror & Murder and Killer. They view Killer as Nightmare’s. Horror will likely be disgusted by both Killer and Murder’s actions, what they did to their brothers—Murder will likely see far too many similarities between Killer and the human to be comfortable with him completely, and meanwhile Killer just isn’t capable of caring.

Meanwhile, Horror and Murder have that “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” thing, but they both ultimately have their own goals.

Murder wants to get back to his AU and would probably ditch Horror in a heartbeat if it means doing so. Horror still has his brother to look after, so I’m sure he’ll rat Murder out if it keeps his Papyrus and AU safe. I’m sure they both understand that about eachother, though.

Sorry if this wasn’t really all that interesting. I’m kinda basically just repeating another’s views on it because I already agree with that interpretation 💀.

On another note, should Killer ever go into Stage 1 while in a Bad Sanses AU, I’m sure he’ll keep his distance from the others; either by staying in his room or leaving the castle frequently. I’m sure it’ll be quite a long time before Killer allows himself to be Stage 1 around the others, and Stage 1 would do his utmost to avoid them, and it’s possible that if they ever did encounter him like that, it’d be an unplanned, unpleasant accident.

( @qin-qin16 ).

[thehistoriangirl]

If You Hadn't Left (Me) [Chapter 1]

I thought I would start posting in the first of February but oh well better now than never lol

I'm gonna post the other fic's masterlist tomorrow I think :3

Viktor x Fem! Reader-----2.9K----SFW*

// M A S T E R L I S T

Next ->

Synopsis:Viktor was never supposed to see you again, just like you had promised that evening when you both ended up heartbroken and bitter toward destiny and all its twisted ways. So twisted as to put you back into his life not only as a temporal working partner to cover Jayce’s absences, but also as the maid of honor in the wedding where he’ll be the best man. Hypothetically, it doesn’t have to be that difficult to find a way around the river of memories flowing between you both. Though, of course, hypotheses are flawed. Just like that part of him that still craves another ending to this story. 

Tags: Second Chance | Angst | Exes to Lovers | Denial of Feelings | Viktor's horny down memory lane* | Reader is pissed | My man is going thru the stages of grief | MelJay bc Jayce deserves to be happy | Eventual Smut | Eventual Happy Ending |

Taglist c: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @blissfulip

That goodbye became a broken promise, cracked over the sound of your voice ever since he heard it at the Council assembly.

Sure, you had spat out the words fueled by betrayal and hatred, but Viktor took them like an oath to put in peace his stormy mind.

First coated in a lie so fragile Viktor was surprised it hadn’t fragmented before, and now this—he was sure he shouldn’t take another glass of wine from the walking waiters zigzagging across the opulent hall—but he had avoided you all night, and he knew Jayce wouldn’t let him go before arranging the “formal meeting” between both of you.

If only he knew...

We congratulate Miss Favred for winning the design contest for the new hall construction inside the Museum of Sciences and Technologies. Graduated from Piltover’s Academy with honors, you're the proof that progress and art are held hand in hand in this city.

Almost the same speech Heimerdinger delivered during your graduation ceremony, only that this time you were all alone on the stage, Viktor's hand grabbing his cane to not feel the growing sensation of emptiness.

Part of him thought it was mere shock. After all, you haven't seen each other in almost ten years; and a petty part of him was surprised he even remembered you, how the image of you was locked in the depths of his subconsciousness that only needed the ring of your greeting to resurface.

But now? Hours after the reencounter? He was so, so weak…

With a sigh, Viktor finally admitted it: stealing glimpses of your purple dress flowing against the gentle breeze was a weakness, though if the excuse lay in masochist interest or avid curiosity, Viktor wasn’t ready to clear his mind. Why would he, anyway? It was a couple of wine glasses too late.

Funny how some things defied the City of Progress where everyone was eagerly grasping the tomorrow.

Viktor just felt stuck in the past, down a path he wasn’t so sure how to slip through.

Your hair was the same, richly stylized and decorated with a geometrical headpiece that looked like a crown from Viktor’s angle. Your time in Shurima had replaced the Piltovan style built by several layers of clothes like vests and corsets for simple, airy fabrics that played with transparencies. The deep shade of violet pooled in continuous drapes ironed in the long skirt falling freely around your hips and down your legs, a gold-threaded corset hugged your waist and framed your bosom, the fabric slowly fading into a lavender tone held like loose sleeves with golden bracelets.

You were covering your mouth while your eyes closed in amused crinkles for whatever the young merchant Mauriel Garfen was telling you as his expert hand twirled you around the ballroom. It didn’t matter much, as Viktor could paint it just fine: with the vivid dark pink adorning your lips, though he knew your favorite color was more of a burnt brown, or maybe even red—

"That's enough for today," Viktor mumbled, eyes looking intently at the crimson liquid as he swirled the stem around his fingers before settling it down against the nearby windowsill.

Suddenly, he heard your happy squeal as you went to hug another young woman dressed in a vivid teal, halter dress. Her curly black hair bounced as you two swayed. Viktor didn’t remember her vividly, but she had been one of your friends ever since your undergraduate years.

If only… Though he knew he didn’t have any right to be greeted as warmly. If even he had any right to be greeted at all. Only because you had returned. Because of course, you did.  Once you had told him that despite the high number of students inside the Academy, you'd find each other in one way or another.

“No, not like fate,” you have told him, voice groggy with slumber as you laid against his chest, hands pointing at his dorm's ceiling where she had stuck luminescence cut-outs of stars. "Entropy."

You were right, from all his perfectly calculated plans tumbling into a state of chaos, one he surprisingly wasn’t against.

Until he was.

Garfen twirled the both of you, giggles bubbling like the nearby tray of drinks a waiter was carrying toward the Councilors discussing on a corner of the hall.

You looked like that photograph he kept in the bottom drawer of his tattered closet, only that the sepia tones eating it away had been repaired with the tone of your skin, the void he left behind replaced with you looking like a fairy queen with your golden crown and dashing company.

Someone more fitting. But Viktor was now the co-creator of Hextech, wasn’t that enough?

His fingers tangled around the glass’ steam, barely feeling the hot sensation of the alcohol down his throat as he gulped it all.

You’re so pathetic, Viktor. Get over it. Why haven’t you done that already?

“Vik! There you are!” He almost dropped the glass with the impromptu voice of Jayce chiming in his roaming thoughts. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

"You know I'm not… eh, akin to this kind of party," he said, only half a lie. He'd been hiding inside a balcony and then, when Jayce passed by, Viktor slipped between a corner and a column. Now, he'd been too distracted to notice. "I've been unwinding."

“For a moment I thought you were already gone!” He patted his shoulder. “I’ve wanted to introduce you to Miss Favred since morning, but I suppose you had duties to take care of after the meeting.” He had bolted out of there as soon as Councilor Medarda called the session off.

His jar tightened, just as the grasp on his formal cane, naked metal replaced by a coat of black marble and polished wood on its handle. “Jayce, I don’t think this idea about the Hextech Wing would be… good,” he started, pouring in all the thoughts that had flown inside his head ever since the morning meeting. “This isn’t what I imagined when you told me we would celebrate the first decade of Hextech’s creation.”

“Viktor—”

“No, listen to me,” he replied, almost through gritted teeth. How pitiless of him he couldn’t even manage his feelings in public. “We want to help people in need, not to gloat about a fancy exhibit at the Science and Technology Museum. This is just another excuse for the Council to gloat about their grandness. What would the exhibit do for the people who believe in us, hmm? For us as scientists, even? Are you listening to me?” His friend had shifted to his embarrassed posture, where his tall body was trying to shrink into a ball, with hands tightly grabbed against his stomach, gazing at the floor. "Jayce—?"

“We’ve arranged that part of the Museum’s entrance fee is going to be destined to fund upcoming Hextech projects. That way you won’t need as many sponsorships,” Mel interjected behind him. Viktor turned to look at the Councilor, frozen to see the figure tailing close behind. “I believe we talked about it in the past meeting.”

Surely. Not that he would admit he had been too distracted by the nervous movements of your hands gesturing away to explain your design to oblige his mind to follow the Councilor’s debate sprinkled in between.

“Perhaps what he’s referring to is about how much time will it take to seize a positive quantity to fund a project,” you said to save his embarrassing stunned silence, poking your head from behind Jayce’s wide back. Your eyebrows arched slightly, head tilted toward Viktor.

The movement is so familiar from when you helped him through the boring, long seminars with haughty professors and even mouthier classmates. A head tilt and a slow gaze once you had laid the counterargument, ready for him to lock the possibility of a reply with his conclusion.

“I… That wasn’t what I meant,” he said, surprised by his cold tone.

You blinked at him for a moment, a frown slightly forming between your beautiful eyes. He didn’t dare to back out from it, he didn’t have a reason why.

Jayce cleared his throat. “Um… well, Vik, this is Miss Favred, she’s going to be the designer of the Museum ampliation…” He said, and you stepped next to Jayce, lips in a neutral yet mocking smile, with the curves of your lips turned up.

“It’s been quite some time, Miss Favred,” Viktor mustered, a smile plastering on his mouth that was too wide and toothy to be considered polite.

“Likewise, Viktor,” you said, tone sweetly as you extended your hand toward him.

Viktor almost wanted to yank it away once he felt a surge of electricity tingling up his arm once your long and elegant fingers wrapped the reverse of his palm. You giggled, nails digging into his skin with discreet violence.

His lips pressed in a thin line that couldn’t be faked as a smile even as he continued shaking your hand for a minute too long, wanting your eyes to decode the hidden message in his. What are you doing here?

“Oh, do you know each other?” Mel said after calling your name, which made you yank your hand away from his grasp.

“We were acquaintances at the Academy,” you said, gesturing away.

Classmates, the word slipped with an acid aftertaste when Viktor tried to back you up. "Very close classmates." Because of course, this was the perfect time for his brain to break under pressure. Yes, so close you slept against his chest every other night, so, so close that he even burrowed inside of you—

Mel turned to you, with an almost accusatory air. “What a surprise!”

“That was many years ago.” Your gaze swept from Mel’s to his, if only for a second. “I had forgotten about it.”

Oh, so that’s how you wanted to play?

"Well, I'm glad you two can reconnect after so many years!" Jayce said a big grin on his face. The sweet oblivious Jayce. “It’ll be good for Vik to have another friend! It’s… slightly difficult for him to open up and get new ones.”

Viktor glared at him. “Why are you talking about me as if I weren’t here?” he replied, while you mumbled:

“I wonder why that is.”

His head turned toward you in a movement so quick that some of his pushed backward-styled hair fell over his forehead. "Pardon?"

You smiled at him. “I didn’t say anything.”

Oh, you—

"Why don't we leave you two to talk?" Mel said, ignoring the pleading look you sent her when Jayce nodded, saying that there must be a lot to tell between the both of you. “Councilor Talis, let’s go for another drink. There’s something I need to talk about with you.” Probably about the wedding. Not that Viktor was interested in the matter when he had you in front of him. 

From all the stolen glances, he had pieced you whole like a puzzle, filling in the missing pieces eaten away by time with the new image, though he knew some things wouldn't change. Like the way you smelled like hyacinth and mangoes, your favorite fruit. All that freckles and moles and scars dotted around your body like those two small ones peeking over the square neckline on the left of your collarbone, which he knew balanced out with the two tiny moles under your right breast.

Surely your skin was just as heavenly soft as back then despite the occasional roughness of your fingers from working so much. Your palms were always warm against his cold fingers during winter. 

“Viktor," you called him. And he frowned to conceal what he had been thinking all the damn night.

“What?”

 “Why don’t we strike a deal?” you said, arms crossed, disrupting what would have been his doom if he continued.

“Do I look like someone that would strike a deal with a devil, Miss Favred?” Viktor said, arching an eyebrow almost in a flirty way. Just amused enough to push you to the edge of your years-trained composure. You certainly played the part, with all the allure and the deep gaze of your eyes.

“I suppose this must be awkward for you, too.”

“It isn’t awkward for me,” he lied. “You should worry about your work instead.”

“So ready for me to leave?” You chuckled. “I think you should know that I applied to this contest because I need the spotless curriculum if I want to be the new Interior Design teacher at the Architecture Faculty.”

“You’re just trying to annoy me. You said you would leave and never return.” Better put, Viktor cornered you to say so, but he wasn’t going to let his mouth run free.

"And you said we were going to get married," you replied, and Viktor felt himself trip backward if it weren’t for the support of his cane. “So I guess we’re even.”

Viktor stood there, stunned golden eyes wide open. He started calling your name, but you had your hand raised.

“You’re right, my bad. That was unnecessary.” Your hand arranged a loose lock of hair poking your cheek. “Anyhow, I’m not going to mention anything about the… past. So you don’t have to worry about me running out my tongue—despite how close classmates we’ve been.”

“Now you’re just being…” improperly brash, dangerously cheeky. Almost as if you’d been pushing him over the edge of his decorum to see if he’d cornered you against a wall to seal your endless rebukes with a kiss. Or many. “…insufferable.”

"Don't worry." You waved away. "I'll finish my job as fast as humanely possible, and then we won't have to see each other again. Because I know you aren't fond of assisting the Progress Day's party."

He crossed his arms, letting the handle of his cane hook on the curve of his elbow. "I'm not sorry to disappoint you—but I'm very fond of Progress Days. I've changed," Viktor said, but it was only a half-truth. He wasn't sure how he could change a feeling that lay hidden deep inside, frozen in time instead of giving them a real burial. You only had to dig to start seeing the uneven silhouette of the memory boxes where nothing should be more than black earth.

“Anyway,” you replied, your tone bleeding with sarcasm. “That’s my peace treaty. I know Mel and Jayce will feel awkward if they ever discover that they’ve arranged old flames as partners, so let’s just forget it. I assure you it’s nothing that could endanger the quality of this project.”

Let’s just forget it. You were right, as you had always been, and yet…

I've already forgotten you, Viktor, you said inside his mind, a smile that once had left him breathless now hurting him in the unspoken truth that now you were better without him.

Of course, you were better without him.

Yet, Viktor couldn’t help but seek your left hand accommodating the deep V line of your dress for the poignant sight of a band on your finger.

“I’m not a passionate teenager, Miss Favred," he said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I assure you I'm not interested in dwelling in the past. So rest assured, I won't embarrass you." It was totally unconscious that his voice dripped with contempt.

You curled your upper lip. “You’re such a fusspot, always the victim.”

Viktor inhaled sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you spat, taking your skirt with your fists as you were ready to stalk away.

The parallels made his heart squeeze in a painful grip. Was history about to repeat itself?

Before his brain could recollect the action, Viktor had called your name, hand extended open as if wanting to touch you. “Wait—” As if he had something to tell you.

You ignored him, stopping when Jayce approached you both from the complete opposite direction Mel and he had gone at first. Also, you couldn't point out if the dark marks of brown smeared on his face were just a plaything of the lightning or marks of kisses.

“Are you leaving so soon?” Jayce told you, hand over your shoulder.

“Yes,” you told him with a smile, completely ignoring Viktor. “My feet hurt and I’m afraid I haven’t recovered my sleep schedule since my return.”

"Well, maybe Viktor can walk you home?" he offered. "For what Mel told me, you live near his apartment." Not that he had moved a lot since you left, but seeing the surprise in your eyes felt like a little victory.

“No,” Viktor and you said at the same time.

“I mean—,” you started.

“I want to stay a little longer,” Viktor said. "As I should be open to enjoying these celebrations more. Hextech anniversary only arrives once a year!" He tried to laugh, but Jayce looked at him with such a concerned frown it was hard to keep his act. Your contained snort wasn't helping.

“Vik… I think you’ve had far too many drinks.”

He glared at Jayce for what felt like the thousandth time. "I'm fine, Jayce—”

"Well, goodbye!" you chirped, getting on your tippy toes to kiss Jayce's cheek, and then, forcefully, approach Viktor and give him a goodbye kiss, too. More like a rude smack, with how forceful you were.

"Tomorrow, eight sharp," Jayce told you, poking your side with his elbow. "Viktor doesn't like it when I arrive late."

“I can’t wait,” you beamed, eyes boring into Viktor’s. As if daring him to say something.

"Me either," Viktor lied.

If you wanna get into the taglist lemme a comment below! 🤗

[alyrasturnz]

how did it end or chloe or sam or sophia or marcus angst!!! (the best songs from ttpd)

CHLOE OR SAM OR SOPHIA OR MARCUS {{ chris sturniolo }}

summary — you and chris became ensnared in a maze of miscommunication, where every word and gesture were fragments of a language neither of you fully grasped. it was only when chris had finally moved on, setting out to build a life of his own, that the puzzle pieces began to fit together. hindsight brought clarity, revealing the intricate dance of misunderstandings that had shaped your shared past.

— angst (no happy ending..)

warnings :: toxic!chris 😐

a/n ,, im actually slacking dude my writing is so bad and this is short afffff 😔 im probably gonna release how did it end tmr and rwlym after

you and chris were ensconced in the living room, the atmosphere so laden with tension that it seemed to weigh down the very air. the once familiar and comforting space now felt like a battlefield, where unspoken words and unresolved emotions hung heavily between you both.

you had been striving to maintain your composure, your mind racing with thoughts and questions, yet the growing chasm between you and chris was impossible to overlook. you could feel the cold distance in his eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth you once shared.

it was as if an invisible wall had been erected, separating your hearts and minds. at last, unable to bear the oppressive silence any longer, you summoned the courage to speak, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken feelings.

you ook a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you clasped them together. your eyes searched chris's face for any sign of the warmth that once resided there. "chris," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "what’s going on? you’ve been so distant lately. It’s like you don’t even care anymore." you paused, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

chris sighed, the frustration etched deeply in his eyes. “it’s not that, y/n. i’ve just been... thinking a lot.”

“thinking? about what? us?” your voice wavered, your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a thunderous echo of your growing anxiety.

“yes, about us. about everything,” chris replied, his eyes skirting away from yours, as if the weight of his thoughts was too heavy to share through mere eye contact.

you felt a pang of desperation, your hands trembling slightly as you clutched at the fabric of your shirt. “i’ve been trying so hard to make things better. i’ve changed so much, hoping it would bring us closer. but it feels like the more i try, the further you pull away.” your voice cracked, the raw emotion evident in every word, as you took a hesitant step closer, searching his face for any sign of understanding.

chris’s eyes flashed with anger, his jaw tightening as he struggled to contain his emotions. “that’s the problem, y/n! you’ve changed so much that i don’t even recognize you anymore. it’s like you’ve become a completely different person,” he exclaimed, his voice rising with a mixture of frustration and sorrow, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

your voice rose, your frustration boiling over, like a pot long left unattended on a hot stove. “i changed because i thought it would help us! i thought if i became someone better, you’d be happier with me,” you cried, your hands gesturing wildly, each movement a testament to the turmoil churning within you.

chris stood up, his voice loud and filled with emotion, reverberating through the room like a storm. “but i never asked you to change! i fell in love with you, the real you. this... this isn’t the person i fell in love with,” he declared, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and sorrow, each word striking like a hammer against the fragile remnants of your shared past.

you stood up too, tears of anger and hurt welling in your eyes, shimmering like fragile crystals on the brink of shattering. “so what, chris? you want me to just stay the same forever? people grow, they evolve. why can’t you see that?” you retorted, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken pain and the desperate need for understanding.

chris shook his head, his voice trembling with frustration, like a leaf caught in a tempest. “it’s not about growth, y/n. it’s about you becoming someone else entirely. i don’t know who you are anymore, and it’s driving me crazy,” he lamented, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions, each word a plea for the familiarity that seemed to slip further away with each passing moment.

your hands were shaking now, trembling like leaves in a fierce wind. “i did it for us, chris! i thought it would make things better. but you’re so stuck in your ways that you can’t even see that,” you cried out, your voice a mix of desperation and defiance, each word a testament to the chasm growing between your intentions and his perceptions.

chris's voice softened, yet the pain lingered like a shadow. “maybe i’m stuck, but at least i’m still me. i just wish you could see that changing everything about yourself isn’t the answer,” he murmured, his words carrying a quiet sorrow, each syllable a delicate echo of the love and confusion that still bound you together.

your voice broke as you spoke, trembling like a fragile reed in the wind. “i don’t know what else to do, chris. i’m trying to save us, but it feels like you’ve already given up,” you whispered, each word heavy with the weight of despair and a longing for the connection that seemed to slip further from your grasp.

the room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. the once vibrant echoes of laughter and shared dreams now seemed distant, replaced by a heavy stillness. you both stood there, breathing heavily, each breath a reminder of the emotional toll that had been exacted.

the realization began to sink in, a slow, painful awareness that despite the depth of your love, the misunderstandings and frustrations had woven a chasm too vast to bridge. this rift, born of countless unspoken grievances and unmet expectations, now seemed insurmountable, a silent testament to the fragility of human connection and the complexities of the heart.

finally, chris spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the weight of his words threatened to break him. “i don’t know where we go from here, y/n. i really don’t,” he murmured, his tone laden with a profound sense of uncertainty and resignation, each word a fragile thread in the tapestry of your shared history, now fraying at the edges.

you nodded, your heart breaking into countless pieces. “neither do i, chris. neither do i,” you whispered, your voice a quiet echo of the sorrow and confusion that now enveloped you both, each word a testament to the shared despair and the uncertain path that lay ahead.

with that, you both stood in silence, the realization that your paths were diverging sinking in like a slow, inevitable tide. you had loved deeply, with a passion that once seemed unbreakable, but sometimes love isn’t enough to conquer the challenges that loom like shadows on the horizon.

the weight of unspoken words and unresolved conflicts now stood as silent sentinels between you, marking the end of a chapter written with both joy and sorrow.

»--•--«

you retrieved a cereal box from the shelf, your eyes lingering on it for a moment. the simple act of selecting breakfast brought a flood of memories, recalling the times you and chris would delight in the whimsical joy of sharing children's cereal, each spoonful a testament to the carefree moments that once defined your bond.

you smiled softly, a tender expression that had long eluded you since the breakup. the passage of time had whispered its counsel, urging you to move on, yet the heart's wounds are not so easily mended.

seven years had passed, and you were both but children then, navigating the tempestuous seas of youth. still, the ache lingered, a poignant reminder of what might have been. the dreams of a future shared with him, almost within your grasp, now shimmered like distant stars, forever out of reach.

you maneuvered your shopping cart, its wheels reluctantly scraping against the pristine floor. suddenly, your gaze fell upon a familiar figure—a boy from your past, now standing before you, seemingly engrossed in selecting diapers. the sight was a jarring juxtaposition of old memories and new realities, a reminder of the inexorable march of time and the unexpected paths it carves.

"chris?" you whisper, your voice barely audible. chris freezes, his entire being suspended in that moment. slowly, he turns around, his heart swelling with a tumult of emotions, his stomach twisting in a visceral response to the unexpected encounter.

"y/n," he uttered, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. his expression was slightly shaken, a reflection of the unexpected reunion. he looked different—his hair had grown longer, and a subtle stubble adorned his face, marking the passage of time and the changes it had wrought.

"it's been so long," you murmur softly, your voice a gentle echo of past memories. "how have you been?" you inquire hesitantly, the words carrying the weight of years and the unspoken questions that linger in the spaces between.

"i've... i've been great," chris articulates, his tone imbued with genuine sincerity. you felt a surge of relief, gratified that he had found happiness. yet, a small, unspoken part of you couldn't help but hope that he still harbored a lingering sense of missing you.

"that's nice," you acknowledge with a nod, the silence enveloping you like a shroud. "so..." you begin, attempting to break the stillness, but a small, unexpected voice interrupts you.

"daddy!" a diminutive boy vociferated, sprinting towards chris as you furrowed your eyebrows in consternation.

"hey, bud," he greeted, a broad grin unfurling across his visage as he hoisted the boy and gently placed him into the shopping cart.

your mouth falls slightly agape, your lips parting in silent astonishment as you stare, transfixed by the unfolding interaction before you. each second seems to stretch into eternity as the realization dawns upon you with the weight of a thousand revelations: chris. has. a. child.

"um," chris murmurs, clearing his throat and running a hand through his tousled hair, the movement slow and deliberate. he pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before turning his gaze toward you. "i think i should get going," he remarks, his voice tinged with a hint of hesitation. he nods slightly, the motion almost imperceptible, as you reciprocate the gesture with a similar, measured nod.

"uh, yeah, of course," you quickly nod, your movements brisk yet filled with a certain urgency. "i have a question, though," you add, your voice carrying a subtle undertone of curiosity and anticipation.

"would things have been different if i didn't... y'know," you mutter, your voice trailing off into a whisper as you grapple with the weight of unspoken possibilities.

chris softly smiles, a gentle curve forming on his lips. "i loved you the way you were, not the person you tried to be," he says softly, his words carrying a tender warmth that seems to momentarily halt the passage of time. your whole world freezes, each second stretching into an eternity. "goodbye, y/n," he murmurs, and with that, he turns away, pushing his shopping cart into the distance.

it felt as though your entire world had been torn asunder with a single sentence, the very fabric of your existence unraveling in an instant. your heart shattered into a million fragmented pieces, each one a poignant reminder of the pain now etched into your soul.

the weight of those words bore down upon you, leaving you breathless and adrift in a sea of sorrow. every fragment of your heart seemed to echo with the loss, reverberating through your being and leaving an indelible mark on your spirit.

you could have been the mother of his child, nurturing a life that symbolized your shared dreams. you could have walked down that aisle, each step a testament to the love and promises you held dear. you could have done so much, weaving countless moments of joy and sorrow into the tapestry of a life together, now forever lost to the realm of what might have been.

so many could'ves linger in the air, each one a whisper of unrealized potential. it pains you to reflect, knowing that in the naivety of your youth, you were too impaired to grasp the gravity of your choices. the wisdom that comes with time was absent then, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and missed opportunities.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hey Hi! I wasn't the one who asked you for this but it really is amazing!!!

It would really be great if you made a second part, and in case you don't, I still just want you to know that I loved it!!!

https://www.tumblr.com/yaut-jaknowit/743233269339914240/gonna-have-to-fly-in-here-on-the-speed-of-light?source=share

Lost Your Mind Part 2

Pairings: Pel (Male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 2601

Summary: Time to figure your new life out in a different, robotic life. You learn how your new body work while being able to stay up with Pel, working side by side during hunts.

Author Note: Thank you! I really appreciate all the love. I hope this was a great second part.

Part 1

Masterlist

Ao3

Throughout a week, it has taken you time to relearn how to walk. Your mind was programmed how to with organic limbs yet this robotic body was different. The weight threw you off. The legs were longer, feet slightly bigger. Everything was off from what you originally knew. So, here you are, using a hand on the wall for support.

Pel was nervous to let you roam the halls by your lonesome. It took some time to convince the Yautja that you’ll be okay. It’s just walking. If you fall, its not like it would hurt you. Pain was nonexistent now. You’ve learn a notification will pop up on the side of your vision, telling you you had been damaged in some sort of way. But, there was no pain.

That could be seen as a pro or con in anyone cases. In your second chance of life, you took it as a pro. No more annoying aches or headaches or even when you broke a bone while hunting.

Hunting. Now, Pel says, you could easily keep up with him on his hunts. No more choking for air after running for miles or worrying about your scent alerting to prey. You even moved nearly silently. Then, without a heart or lungs, there was no worry about prey hearing you as well. In this new body, you’ve become the optimal predator. All you need was a guiding hand to relearn everything.

Your mate had help turn off the ability where your processor answered every little question. That had become incredibly annoying. It drove you nearly over the edge into a bout of rage and destroying the ship. All you wanted was your thoughts to be your own. Not some of computer in your mind.

With one foot after another, you relearn how to walk. You took the chance to meander to the cockpit and stopped at the entrance. Pel was in the pilots chair and sat crisscross. His head turned over his shoulder to find you now in the room. The Yautja sat up taller, mandibles clicking happily. Your own face lighting.

“Hello, love,” you wobbled over to him without the support of the wall. Once in reach of his chair, you gripped onto the arm rest. “What’s the plans for today?” A week had only passed but fragments of your memories had resurfaced. Not all of them. But the emotions are what you held onto. The love and adoration you and him felt for each other. And, in a life like this now, you needed every last drop.

The Yautja in question chirped and purred then rubbed his forehead against your shoulder. “Whatever you want, little one,” he replied in a smooth tone and found your gaze. His eyes shone brightly in the dim lights of the ship. You used your free hand to gingerly cup his cheek and hold his head.

A thinking expression pondered over your features. There was still much to unlock between the two of you with your new robotic body. To see its limitations.

You leaned down nuzzled your nose against where his own would lay if he were human. “Why not teach me some basics with weapons? I’d much rather learn from you than the internet. From there, I can choose which one fits my hand the best,” you offered and pulled back to stare into his yellow eyes.

He purred and nodded his large head. Dark tresses swaying with the moment. “That is a wonderful idea, mate!” Pel slipped off of his chair and rounded the furniture to stand at your side. His hands came out to steady you but stopped short. The corners of your lips tweaked into a small smile.

Pel was finally learning that you need to do this on your own. That’s the only way you can be able to grow into the new person you’re designed to be. You can read on his face it’s taken a lot for him relent and allow you space. He’s a lot more open with his feelings, desperate to make you feel safe and comfortable in your home.

“I’ve got this, love. Just give me time, I still haven’t fully figured it out just yet.” You pushed off of the chair and stood up.

Standing is easy. That didn’t require movement. The walking portion was fine. When you tried to figure out how move without falling face first onto the ground… that’s where you struggled. Half of you wanted to turn back on the dictionary portion of your brain. But, you stayed strong. Life’s hard. Clearly since you’re in this position and nearly met their god of death in unfair circumstances.

The dark brown and beige Yautja stayed hovering at your side, hands at the ready. His yellow eyes watched carefully as the two of you made your way towards the weapons room.

Many of his trophies sat out on display here. A show of prowess. Some of them, you knew the two of you hunted together. Slowly the memories returned. The only plausible reason was the trauma of the event hiding them away. But if they were coming back, that’s all that matters.

An array of weapons decorated the only wall lacking trophies. Pel mainly wields a Combistick and bow and arrow for the hunts. That doesn’t mean a hunter shouldn’t be prepared. He has everything else on hand for whatever a hunt may call for.

You stopped to stand in front of the wall. Your eyes raked down each meticulously placed weapon, but nothing called out to you. In your memories, they were still hazy. You couldn’t tell which one you used before. Maybe this was chance to choose anew? To choose something that required more strength. The robotics that formed your body offered more strength than ever before.

Heat washed down your back side as two hand rested on your shoulder. The powerful jaw of your mate settled down on top of your head. “What favors the eye of my mate?” he asks. A soft purrs tumbles out of his throat and spills into the air. You reached for one of his hands on your shoulder and carded your fingers through his own. The two of you holding hands now.

“That, I don’t know. Nothing speaks to me.” An idea comes to mind. “I would love to see you wield each one, show me what they can do,” you suggested and brought his knuckles to your mouth for a kiss. Killing two birds with one stone. Figuring out which one was the best for you and to see your mate in action, flaunting his gorgeous body. Oh, you couldn’t wait for the show.

He let loose a rumble that acknowledge of his pondering. Then, he placed his own mock kiss to your head and stepped around you. “Alright, I shall display their uses.” The way he struts up to the walls was handsome. “I’ll show you the Combistick first. Every Yautja has one in their collection as it’s the first weapon that train with.”

Not only does he have one but three. Since it’s part of his main collection, he must have multiple may one break or if he stupidly loses it. At that point, he should let Cetanu take if he does that. Such a unblooded mistake that would cost him his life in the heat of a hunt.

A collapsed Combistick and pulled down from its hold. A single press of a button unleashes the weapon to the world. For such a weapon to be able to squeeze into a small form then grow like it does was amazing. Your eyes flashed with wonder. Then, the brown Yautja began to twirl it as if it was an extension of his own body. The moves fluent and perfect. The alien may be considered young for his species, but this was his life. The way of his people, his culture.

For the remaining hours of the day, Pel showed what each and every single weapon in his collection could do. It was hard to choose. All of them seemed great. Some better than others. You pondered the entire time, raking over each weapon carefully until two finally came to you.

Tiger claws and claymore. A strange combination to work together with. You would use the claymore as your primary then have the tiger claws as your secondary. Of course, the Combistick would also be part of your weaponry. Not that Pel would allow for you to miss that important part of the training.

Despite your slightly larger stature, Pel takes you to a weaponsmith. One he’s known for a long time.

The town around you is bustling with life. Your hand is entwined with Pel’s as the brown Yautja leads you through the alleyways to stay away from the roaming crowds. With another week and a half of walking under your belt, you’re able to calmly walk about without needing support. Not like you could run and sprint just yet. It’s a start though. A good start.

Though, you won’t be able to train with a weapon yet, Pel wants to get the jump on forging said weapons. It’ll take time for them to be crafted. Hopefully, his goal was by the time Vo completed the job, you would be ready. If not… he would just hide them and gift them to you when you were.

Pel swiftly took you through the back ways and knew the perfect places to slip past the crowds. It wasn’t long before the two of stopped in front of a old, clearly worn building. He takes you inside before the two of you could be swept out into sea.

Warmth washes over your artificial skin, warming the circuits underneath. A bell alerts the occupants to your appearance. Pel’s hand on the small of your back urges you forward towards the counter. He leans against the carefully crafted wood and trills a Yautja call.

“Pel?” a voice calls out from the back of the building. It wasn’t a moment later before an unknown species of alien stepped out. A rag in her hands that wiped off the grim that coated the skin. “Look who it is. Long time, no see. I thought you had perished on me.” She stopped short of the counter and crossed her arms. Four eyes met your optics that swiftly analyzed every inch of her.

“And who is this?” she questioned and scans her steely gaze up and down your robotic form. “He almost looks… human but his skin, it’s metal. Has those pesky humans finally created something worthwhile?” Your eyes narrowed on her bulky form. Despite no only being human physically any more, you took offense to her words.

A hand rested on your shoulder and drew your attention away from her. “Vo, this is my mate.” He says your name, easily rolling off of his tongue. “There was an accident that involved some bad bloods. I couldn’t lose him just yet.”

Her gaze softened. “Oh, I heard about that incident,” she trails off, head bowed down for only a moment before she meets his gaze again. “No one deserves what those scums did to all of those humans. Even if I despise the squishies.” Your tense shoulders relaxed at her words but that only got you thinking more about what happened. Pel wouldn’t say.

The brown Yautja dipped his head, understanding her words. “Yes. With my mate, I couldn’t lose them so quickly after we become permanent mates. So… I had their brain and heart transferred into this new body. It’s been a process.”

She hummed and finally met your optics. “My condolences, human. I am glad you didn’t perish yet. But, you better keep ol’ Pel happy. He deserves it.” You didn’t know whether to be offended or just brush off her comment. If only she knew what memories you’ve unlocked held of your of him. All the things you did together. The love you shared with each other.

“He is. More than anything in the universe,” Pel answers for you and tugs you closer to him. You turn to nuzzled against him. “But, I request your service. For my mate.” His hand rubs up and down the length of your bicep.

The unnamed alien snorts and rests most of her weight on one foot. “Of course you do. You never come back just to talk.” A sigh left her. She picked up a pencil and a sheet of paper. “What is it you’re looking for?”

Pel glanced down at you. “It’s for my mate actually. He wants tiger claws and a claymore. I have one of each myself, but they aren’t designed for his size,” Pel explains and returned his attention to her. You carded your fingers through his own on your arm and laid a kiss on the back of his hand.

A brow was raised at you. “He’s kind of small for a claymore. Think that’s gonna work with him.” From the slight kind she offered you in the beginning, your face dropped into a glared. Pel tightened his hold on your hand to ground you.

“My mate can handle himself well enough. Now, will you do it or not?” His voice hardened in the classic roughness of a Yautja. Gone was the easy, laid back Pel you knew.

Both of her hands raised, pencil and paper in the air now. “Now, reel back on the anger. I ain’t demeaning him or anything. I just stating a fact.” She huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her way. “Alright. A claymore and tiger claws for the human.” She writes this down on the paper.

The two of them got into a deep discussion on the specifics. Most of it went over your head as you glanced around the small lobby of the weaponsmiths. It was homey and quite nice if the owner was being such a dick to you. You couldn’t believe she would say such a think straight to your face in front of your mate. Yet, she has the balls to do so.

When all was said and done, the two of you left the little shop and returned back to the safety of your ship. Once the ramp clicked its lock into place and stopped then crossed your arms. “Well, she was quite rude!” you steamed with a huff.

Your mate stopped and his shoulders sagged, your name falling from his mandibles. “She’s… I knew her father when we were both young. I was there the day she was born, by accident. She’s been around Yautjas her whole life.” He about faced and strolled up to you. His hands cupped your jaw. “Many of my species are rougher than I am. Meaner. Ruder. They take what they want, demanding it. I am considered soft, gullible.”

His words soothed you. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. “For now, focus on getting stronger, faster. Then, you’ll be ready for your weapons. To go out hunting at my side once more. We’ll be an unstoppable force. No one would dare with us,” he proclaimed and pressed his mandibles to your cheek in a mock kiss.

“I will, love.” Your eyes slid open. His orbs filled with the love the two of you held for one another. “I’ll be beat you in a sparring match when I do,” you snarked off with a grin plastering to your features.

Pel barks a laugh. Not to demean you but at your attitude he loves. “Oh, I can’t wait for the way, my mate.”

[meluene]

“As I said before, I am not great with people, Dean, I never have been. I often experience trouble with understanding certain behaviors.” He stopped, then narrowed his eyes. ”However, I believe that when it comes to you, I read the situation quite correctly.”

Dean didn’t move. He also probably stopped breathing.

“The mistake you were referring to… is connected to your self-doubt, isn’t it?” Cas asked quietly after a beat. “You actually thought that you were not good enough for me. For us.”

Dean looked away, unable to stand the softness in Cas’s gaze. It felt like his eyes bore deep into Dean’s soul, drawing out all the secrets and fears that Dean didn't want to deal with.

“I hope you understand that this is absurd to me, Dean. It never even crossed my mind that you could think something like that about yourself,” Cas added, raising his eyebrow.

The silence between them stretched uncomfortably to the point where Dean started fidgeting in his seat under Cas’s steady gaze. He knew Castiel was waiting for him to speak, but Dean wasn’t even sure what to say. Of course he wasn’t good enough for Cas or Jack, but he had a suspicion that saying it out loud would end in another pointless argument between them.

“Listen, man,” Dean finally muttered. “I only recently discovered that I’m not straight. I am very out of my depth here. And you… you seem to be like, I don’t know… experienced. And there is Jack, and he needs stability and all that, and I’m just… some guy. With… with issues,” Dean ended weakly.

A smile flickered on Cas’s face. “I believe that you completely ignore your own worth, Dean Winchester,” he said, observing Dean closely. “You are very smart and incredibly funny. You have a kind heart and a beautiful soul. You are sensitive and truthful and everything you do has a meaning. You have to admit, ‘a guy with issues’ doesn’t really cover it all, does it?” He ended, raising his eyebrow at Dean.

Dean let out a chuckle, but it sounded hollow. “I’m no good, man,” he said, looking away.

Castiel sighed, then put the mixtape on the table between them, getting Dean’s attention again.

“Alright. I want to date you, anyway,” he said calmly.

Dean blinked. “What?”

+++

It's a fragment of my AU Destiel fic - Hoist your colors

I've been working on it since December, and I finished it yesterday!

I'm kinda proud of myself, not gonna lie.

310k, sailing AU, Impala is a sailboat.

You can find more of it on AO3:

*Special thanks to Chance Peña, who has no idea about me or this fic, but his music kept me going for those few months.

[always-andromeda]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Father Paul Hill x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 2925

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + "Everything I've done...every atrocity, it's been for you."

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ okay, I haven't exactly finished a piece in a good while. so this one is sort of serving as a warm-up and if it's terrible (which I have a good feeling it is lmao), I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be gentle on me. I've loved this man for a while now and this is sort of experimental. tl;dr: I am a sensitive little baby right now so treat me as such.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), obviously a pretty massive gap in both age and power, depictions of blood and death, could be read as dub con at first (if you squint really hard) but firmly lands on the side of full con, a lot of religious mumbo jumbo (lmao let's ignore the fact that I know almost nothing about Catholicism <3), so much blasphemy, oral (female receiving), a twinge of sub!Paul, and that's all I can think of!! let me know if more is needed!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

Behind closed eyelids, all you saw was darkness. And through that darkness came white hot agony. It was practically blinding as it shot up your spine before detonating in your brain. Those little fragments of pain speckled across the inside of your skull.

You wanted to scream, hurl, cry, something. Anything to physically release the intense pain assaulted your nerves. But you wouldn't be granted that mercy. No.

For now, your suffering was confined to this unending darkness. For now, you waited in the void of your own being for the tragedy to subside.

For weeks you anxiously waited for the return of Monsignor Pruitt from his mission trip. Though spending your afternoons looking after the dementia ridden clergyman wasn't exactly your idea of a good time, it was far better than slumming it with Beverly Keane. After all, you were 99% sure that whatever Bev heard managed to make its way all around the island.

Crockett Island was a melting pot of rumors. By now you'd heard the stories; the mythology of the island's residents had woven together to form a complex tapestry. And the longer you stayed, the more you realized how little you desired to be a part of it all.

But you didn't have a choice. Whether you liked it or not, Crockett's citizens had already spun your narrative.

Everyone knew how your mother had taken you away from the island at the ripe age of five years old; saving you the heartache of being raised by an alcoholic father. Part of you had always been grateful for it despite how tough it had been being raised by a single mother who hardly had anything to her name. Yet you couldn't help the guilt that poured into your lungs like cement whenever someone mentioned how much your father had suffered before he died.

Because that was the only way you would've gone back to the island that lived in the shadows of your memory: death. And upon meeting Monsignor Pruitt, it became clear that death would also be the only way you'd want to leave.

The relationship that had bloomed between you and him was a humble one. He'd offered to talk you through your grief which you'd promptly denied. Though you attended services, you weren't much for religion and you weren't about to embrace it fresh off of the death of a father who was practically a stranger. It felt disingenuous.

Finding God is reserved for real tragedies, right?

You'd asked the question like it was a joke.

Monsignor Pruitt had merely tilted his head before replying in that lilting, raspy voice of his: Depends on what you think qualifies as a tragedy.

With a quick eye roll, you'd written the answer off as one of those unbalanced moments of his. Over the course of a few months, you'd become well acquainted with them. Going to services and keeping him company was something to do. Something other than rifling through decades of your father's clutter and further entangling yourself with the community. Something other than being reminded of your own wasted potential.

Strangely, the monsignor felt less like an all seeing eye and more like...a friend. And now, faced with his "temporary" replacement, you were finally certain of what qualified as a tragedy to you.

From the moment Father Paul had addressed the church, you were unsettled. He may have been perfectly kind and personable enough, but his mannerisms edged on the uncanny valley. It was the way he spoke during sermons and how that tone rarely changed during one-on-one conversations. Though he couldn't have been older than thirty, he often held himself as if he'd been around the block more times than anyone could fathom. It was easy to chalk it up to his nature. Of course the man of God had an eerie way of making you feel like a puny mortal.

But Monsignor Pruitt had never made you feel like that. You couldn't brush the thought of the old man out of your mind.

Every time Father Paul attempted to placate your worries, it only pushed you deeper into the depths of distrust. Somehow you just knew he was lying.

And for all of Father Paul's wisdom and mystique, he wasn't a good liar. His tone would shift as he glossed over your concerns with a quick reassurance that Monsignor Pruitt was recovering just fine on the mainland. When you felt brave enough to press him for more, he'd wring his hands or squeeze them into fists. Almost as if he had to physically stop himself from reprimanding you. After all, who were you to question him?

When your eyes finally opened, your vision was overwhelmed by the light. Softly, slowly, the light haloed around the head of a figure that carefully came into view. As your sight sharpened, you quickly realized who stood over you. 

The man you held the most wariness for was kneeling over you. His long face wrought with concern, the alarm bells were already blaring in your muddled mind. But as much as you tried to force the air from your lungs to scream, you could only let out a pathetic, strangled squeak.

That was when he spoke. His voice shook with what sounded like uncertainty, "You mustn't overexert yourself. You're still coming back. But don't worry, you'll be yourself again soon. All in due time."

No matter how much you tried to speak, to move, neither of the actions came to you. All you could do is watch as Father Paul pulled your paralyzed body into his arms and cradled you. And as the potency of your helplessness settled in, you vaguely felt tears prick at your waterline. 

Normally, you would've rather died than allowing yourself to cry in front of someone, especially in front of the father. This time you couldn't control the few tears that slid freely down your cheeks, landing on the father's hand where he gripped your still aching shoulder.

He noticed them immediately and let you out of his grasp long enough to stare into your glossy eyes.

You couldn't quite decipher the intent behind the softness of his gaze. But somehow it was enough to allow the nausea that had slowly been rising in your chest to subside.

Father Paul raised a hand to cup your face. His thumb carefully stroked your cheek, sweeping away the wet trails left by your despair. And whether it was from your sensitivity or the intimacy of the act, you didn't know. But your skin shivered. 

As you gradually regained the feeling in your body, you realized that the first thing you felt after the pain was him. The inherent warmth of his embrace. And in some fucked up way, it was comforting. Feeling like prey, you blinked back the rest of your tears and allowed yourself to soak up as much of him as you could; anything to get rid of the dull pain that plagued your nerves.

You noticed there were tears brimming his own eyes as he smiled softly. "There, you mustn't cry. You've been so brave and in return you've been blessed."

It was then that you began to regain enough cognizance to question what was happening.

Flashes of memory played each time you blinked.

That damned question had been on the tip of your tongue again.

So you found him in the recreational center. There he’d been, on his knees, praying fervently.

Hopefully you're praying for the monsignor's return.

You regretted the words almost as soon as you'd said them. Because as soon as Paul turned, he gave you that dark look that rarely graced his features. This time he hadn't even tried to hide it with his usual discretion.

He merely stared right past you with his eyes wide and pleading. 

You hadn't had the chance to see the thing that attacked you fully. But you felt its teeth at your neck. You felt your own blood dripping from your neck in such a thick stream that the dizziness came almost as soon as you hit the ground. You felt the rough, pale skin of the creature as it smothered you, greedily devouring every ounce of your life.

Of course you were surprised to find yourself lying on the sheets of Paul's bed in his modest home, but that shock was the least of your worries. How were you still alive?

He told his tale as your body mended itself. You didn't know how much time passed. All you knew is that you were enraptured with the sticky sense of dread that was growing in your stomach as he spoke.

You were acutely aware of just how much it sounded like a sermon. How, whether he was aware of it or not, he was pulling out every stop in the preacher's handbook to try and convince you. And if he didn’t sound so convinced himself, you would swear this was deliberate manipulation. But nothing else could possibly explain his youthful appearance and all that he knew. He could recite your history right back to you despite the fact that you’d never once trusted him nearly enough to give it. Only the monsignor knew your deepest fears and your darkest secrets. But this wasn’t your monsignor.

Father Paul was some new beast; an amalgamation of the sweet old man you’d once known, the deceptive preacher who took his place, and some other supernatural force that you couldn’t quite name.

Though you’d only caught half a glimpse of the creature, you attempted to express your terror. That only spurred him on further as he contended that when an angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds upon the birth of Jesus, it deliberately told them to not be afraid.

But none of that explained himself. None of it allowed you to comprehend how Monsignor Pruitt could've shed decades of life; how the old man could now stand there, blood drying on the bottom half of his face, and look at you as if you were something he could have.

You didn't have to ask. You knew by then that when the creature had had its fill of your blood, Father Paul had pulled the scraps of you away for himself. The thought hit you dangerously and made something deep inside you rumble. Like a natural disaster, this had unearthed a litany of complications that you never could’ve anticipated.

“We are at a crossroads," Father Paul said gently before letting his conviction surge again, “Now, you once said that finding God was reserved for those experiencing tragedy, correct?”

You nodded sagely. 

Father Paul grasped your trembling hands in his own, “Have you not experienced one of life’s greatest tragedies? The ending of it? You fell right over the edge of life and before the waters of death could claim you, He brought you back. Hebrought us together.”

You shook your head in defiance.

“This was meant to happen. This was part of His plan, for our faiths — our lives — to be renewed.”

With your throat still stiff and dry, you croaked angrily, “There was nothing wrong with my life! There was nothing that needed to supposedly be renewed!” 

He raised his voice suddenly, “Why did you come to this island?”

“Because my father died.”

“A father who was no better than a stranger to you,” he recalled your own words quickly. If the monsignor had been wise, Father Paul was as sharp as a knife, taking his jabs at you with complete accuracy. “You didn’t have to come here. You didn't have to make friends with a crazy old man. By the grace of God, you were led here. You were led here so you could be shown this truth; this gift. And you are denying this gift."

You had to admit that your draw to Crockett had been strange. At first you'd attested it to some childhood curiosity. But you'd deliberately put off taking care of your father's run down property, instead opting to spend time walking in the light of Pruitt. In truth, his companionship had been a breath of fresh air. 

Though the people of Crockett adored him, it was always tinged with pity. You'd never pitied him; only admired him for his wisdom and his resilience. 

Paul's expression softened as he held your face in his hands. "Everything I've done...every atrocity, it's been for you." That was when you saw the edges of his wisdom begin to lift and fall away like a second skin he'd crafted over his own vulnerability.

Underneath it...he was simply a man. A man who wanted to save you. 

“Let me give you more. Let me show you how you can trust me," he whispered.

The first kiss inspired an odd mix of emotions in your chest. There was the coppery tang of dried blood on your tongue, strong enough that it took everything in you not to flinch away from his hold on you. But you remembered his reference to the angel and the shepherds.

Do not be afraid.

So you continued, deepening the kiss with a turn of your head. And for all of the worldly experiences Paul had, you became acutely aware that this sort of connection was not among them.

Whether there'd been any true romantic feelings for the aging monsignor, you couldn't quite say. But your fondness of him had transferred to the man before you. Granted, the transfer wasn't smooth, but it was there nonetheless. Somehow it was stronger than ever as he took your hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss he pressed against your palm was slightly tacky with your own half dried blood still lingering.

You brushed a lock of his wavy, dark hair back so you could properly meet his gaze. With the shroud of time having fallen away from his features you could see just how handsome the man was. It was a hesitant sort of attractiveness; as if the banner of God had prevented him from seeing his full potential.

He'd fed on your life and made himself new. And the thought of your monsignor living on in that small way...all because of you? The electric twinges that sparked in your chest were almost too much to bear.

Without fear you devoured him in another kiss. Quickly the mood turned from reverent to ravenous as Paul attempted to keep up with your fervency.

He couldn't remember the last time sin had overpowered his sense of morality. Because he knew in the traditional sense, this was pure sin. No matter how wrong he believed it might have been to let his hands roam your figure, in his bones it was a temptation that finally felt correct. There was none of that hesitance or shame or fear that he'd felt before. The pendulum had shifted on morality and he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Hardly a moment was spared as he tore into the long skirt and the underwear that had kept you modest for far too long. Perfect beauty like this had to be cherished.

So that is what he did. Planted firmly between your legs, he stared up at you with eyes that gently pleaded for permission; for salvation. With your own half lidded eyes, you nodded before spreading yourself open for him.

Like a flower, you bloomed beautifully and Paul groaned at the sight. He could practically feel the thrumming pulse before him as it waited to indulge him. His hot breath teased you and made sparks dance right beneath the surface of your skin. Still you stayed in place, patiently allowing him time to drink in the sight of your folds already puffing and glistening with slick.

Quietly, you heard him mumble something that you only caught the tail end of.

“–forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

It wasn't too long after that when his tongue found a home in that tight, warm crevice. Your hand knitted itself into his dark hair as you searched for something to ground yourself from the overpowering sensation. Something about this new condition of yours heightened every aspect of pleasure.

If you were in your right mind, it would make sense logically considering you'd felt the unbearable pain of your spine shattering and being put back together again. But this was overwhelming in the entirely opposite direction.

You experienced the pleasure on a cellular level as your climax rushed through your limbs. You seemed to feel the vibrancy of every emotion and atom that comprised your being. Nothing was spared from the glory of this blessing. Not your spasming cunt as it contracted around Paul's blessed tongue. Not your heart that was firmly on the track of restoration. And not your mind as it all at once fell apart in time with your quivering thighs. Blood pulsing, every single one of your pores felt more alive than ever as you finally embraced the higher power that had been waiting for you in the shadows all along.

At that moment, you believed it all. From the Angel to Father Paul's divine transformation to the euphoric paradise that enveloped your entire being...it was all real. And most of all, it was all yours. Thanks to the father's grace and generosity, you would create paradise with him. And that seemed possible. After all, with his head between your thighs, you’d both already created one.

[sysmedsaresexist]

hi!! i wanna ask since i've seen this float around the internet and couldn't get more in-depth info about it, but can osdd-1 be polyfragmented?

So, this is actually a pretty complicated topic. First off, I gotta know how we're describing "polyfragmented" here. Some people use it to describe systems with 100+ parts (mostly fragments/rudimentary parts), other people use it to talk about systems with subsystems, and then lately the online community has started to say it's both and more than that but also none of that. So, yeah, I'm gonna need to know how you personally describe it to give you a more concrete answer.

Now here comes the rambles... (Also, sorry if I sound a little blunt talking about this, it's not aimed at you!)

So, I know that the online community really likes "polyfragmented" as a term, but in modern academic literature and in my medical circles, it's not really common? I just don't hear "polyfragmented" being used that often. Large amounts of parts, subsystems, fragments, etc. are just not all that uncommon or unique when we're talking about DID or OSDD. If anyone likes the term for themselves, that's perfectly fine. It really is just more of a casual term, though, not its own diagnosis or special form of dissociation.

Personally, I think "is polyfragmented OSDD-1 real" is not a productive conversation to have. The clinical field largely seems to agree that there's little difference between OSDD-1 and DID, and there's been many proposals to merge them together under a new name or as just DID... Personally, I support this idea. It's not uncommon for someone who better fits DID to get diagnosed with OSDD, vice versa. I’m not surprised that some people diagnosed with OSDD also find that they fit the definition(s) of polyfragmented.

Unfortunately, I see a lot of discourse over polyfragmented OSDD-1 in the online community just devolve into pain olympics. I’m tired of it. In research, DID is often placed on a continuum with PTSD, with OSDD in the middle. I sometimes see people in the online community use this continuum to say that DID is somehow worse than OSDD. Those people assume that "polyfragmented DID" is a worse DID. I understand that it's easier to think of these things in neat little boxes and hierarchies but this is mental health we're talking about here. It just doesn't fucking work like that!

As someone who fits most definitions of polyfragmented DID, I've met people with just PTSD who were more disabled, more in pain, sometimes even more dissociative than me. DID is on a continuum with PTSD, yes, but if your understanding of that is "DID is a worse version of OSDD which is a worse version of PTSD," then you have vastly misunderstood what that continuum means.

[ideas-on-paper]

Lies of P fan theories - a retrospective (1st anniversary special)

It's been one year now since Lies of P's release, and as someone who has been part of the community since 2022 (joining after the Gamescom trailer absolutely swept me off my feet), it's been amazing to see how invested people were in Lies of P from the get-go, and how much creativity the game has inspired in fans. From the start, we had amazing creations such as fanart, fanfics, and cosplays - and of course, a whole lot of fan theories.

While, naturally, a lot of fan theories people had before the release are debunked right now, I think it'd be fun to take a look back at what people were expecting the story to be like, and how those theories from back then compare to the final game. For that purpose, I will share my own theories that I had pre-release, as well as some from various other people (unfortunately, I lack the sources in most cases, but I’ll do my best to provide credit where they’re from). So, strap in and get ready for a special trip down memory lane! :-)

[Lies of P spoilers!]

Ergo and the Petrification Disease

One big mystery that was set up as early as the first gameplay footage was the nature of Ergo - all we knew from tool tips people painstakingly picked out (kudos to you, btw <3) was that it was some sort of power crystal that was used as an energy source for puppets and responsible for Krat's wealth, but that also brought a curse with it. People on the official Lies of P Discord server were puzzling over what exactly Ergo is, when I came up with a somewhat eccentric theory: that Ergo is crystallized life force itself.

My basis for this theory was essentially the movie “Atlantis: The Lost Empire” (which I’m a big fan of).

[Fair warning, I'm gonna spoil the main plot right here.]

The movie also features a huge, cyan blue crystal (originally a fragment of a comet) that is located in the lost city of Atlantis and believed to be an energy source by a team of explorers. However, as it turns out, it's much more than that: It is the literal life force of the Atlantean people, and if it's taken away from the city, it would mean certain death for all of them. (Which doesn't stop some of the money greedy explorers from trying to do it anyway.) Furthermore, after I became familiar with gestalt consciousnesses, I realized that the crystal possesses a few characteristics of those as well: The crystal has a mind of its own, and right before Kida merges with it in the movie, she whispers “mother” in Atlantean, suggesting she felt her dead mother's presence when the crystal chose her. This could be because her mother merged with the crystal completely (Kida eventually returns with her bracelet, after all), but since the King of Atlantis does say “the crystal thrives on the collected emotions of all who came before us”, it’s highly likely that it is, in fact, a human gestalt intelligence of their deceased ancestors.

[spoilers end]

So when I heard about Ergo being an energy crystal, this was my first idea as well: pure, crystallized life force of dead people. (Also, when I saw the blue color, my brain just went like “Ergo = Atlantis crystal”. xD)

When I shared this theory on the LoP server, one person in particular - named Oxwutex, if I remember correctly (greetings to you if you ever read this ;-) ) - took a liking to it, and together, we spun this theory a little further. They said they could imagine that people tried to refine the Ergo further, which is where the corruption waste in the factory comes from - however, refining something like a life force crystal which is already perfect could have disastrous consequences. I followed this up with my own theory, surmising that if this were the case, the corruption waste and the purified Ergo might represent two sides of the human soul: the vices and the virtues. (A lot of my early theories were based on this dualism, since the distinction between “good” and “evil” actions in the original fairy tale of Pinocchio is pretty prominent.)

Since there were hints that Ergo was responsible for the Petrification Disease early on, I had come up with the idea that the disease was the result of people coming into contact with pure Ergo, leading to a sort of “overpurification”, while I assumed that corrupted/impure Ergo caused the Puppet Frenzy/violent behavior. For me, this was very appealing on a thematic level as well, since it would've symbolized that both vices and virtues are present in every human being. If it was just the vices, we'd turn into feral monsters, but if a person only had virtues, when flaws are the very sign of life... well, you could question whether they are even alive anymore. Metaphorically speaking, they would be made of stone. (It’s interesting to note, however, that the disease was supposed to be spread by magical rats in the beginning; at least that’s what the announcement trailer seems to suggest.)

Back when the demo dropped, the confirmation that Ergo spores were the cause of Petrification Disease made me even more confident in my thesis, as did the “Ergo is Life” pamphlets. When I started streaming Lies of P (my first commented playthrough ever ^^’), I even commented on this, saying:

“Maybe even that this crystal [Ergo] contains the life force of dead people - that's what my speculation was back then.” (My commentary is in German, but here's the video if anyone is interested; the part where I discuss it starts at 26:25.)

Oh boy… I had no idea this was about to age like the finest wine in existence.

About 40 hours of gameplay later, I almost couldn’t believe my ears when Simon confirmed I was dead on target:

“The disease does not signify death. It's the process of purifying a person's essence. A purified human who overcomes the Petrification Disease will gain a strengthened body and a mind free of lies. The essence is Ergo. Yes, the Ergo you use as your power was once a human being.”

When Sophia explained that the Petrification Disease, Puppet Frenzy, and carcass monsters are all linked to Ergo shortly afterwards and literally spelled it out that Ergo is a person’s “essence of life”, I was so flabbergasted that my fan theories were essentially right that I was struck speechless. (You can see my live reaction to the conversations with Simon and Sophia in this video, at 20:08 and 49:56; I think you can tell how gobsmacked I am from just my tone, especially in the conversation with Sophia.) Since I had shared these theories on the official Lies of P server back in the day, some part of my brain even wondered if one of the devs saw it and thought it was so good that they went like “Write that down, write that down!” xD (Though realistically, I don’t think that’s very likely; still, it’s funny to imagine one of the devs reading through the chat, seeing this, and going like “How did they figure this out so fast?!?” xD)

On a more serious note, I didn’t really expect any of my preliminary fan theories to be true at all, but I must say, I’m pretty proud that I essentially hit the mark in this case - not only in regards to Ergo being crystallized life essence, but also the Petrification Disease resulting from “overpurification”.

Another thing I noticed is that Ergo shares not only similarities with the Atlantis crystal, but also with the Protomolecule from The Expanse (I don’t wanna spoil too much of the series’ plot here, but scientists conducting immoral experiments with something they don’t really understand is also a pretty big topic). In addition, a commonality between the crystal and the Protomolecule is that they both came from outer space - and, since there is talk about a “star that answered humans and descended to Earth” in one document, chances are the origin of Ergo is also extraterrestrial.

However, as we know, Ergo wasn’t the actual cause of the Puppet Frenzy - both Sophia’s comment from above and the report from the factory are essentially a “ruse” on the story’s part, supposed to lead you on the wrong track. In truth, it’s Geppetto who overrode the Grand Covenant’s commands and was responsible for the Frenzy.

Still, perhaps the impure Ergo supplies were actually meant to facilitate Geppetto’s plan (the Mad Donkey did say Geppetto and the Alchemists were scheming together, after all) - maybe the more impure the Ergo of a puppet is, the easier it becomes to control them. In contrast, when a person’s Ergo is undiluted and their personality remains largely intact, that might give them more autonomy and make them harder to manipulate. (I think this is what happened with Romeo, who could still give commands to the other puppets despite the zeroth law.)

The backstory of Krat

Speaking of the frenzy, I also had my theories about the potential backstory of it: Lies of P actually motivated me to do some research about real-life automata and their history (people familiar with my LoP posts might be aware of this), and one thing running through it like a common thread from the Middle Ages to the Age of Enlightenment is that automata were always representative of a conflict of rich vs poor.

In fact, during the French Revolution, this was a source of mockery against the country’s nobles, who were compared to their automated toys - pretty and pristine to look at, but soulless on the inside. Meanwhile, it was argued that the poorly paid artisans who built them should be the actual rulers of society, since their minds were clearly superior if they were able to come up with such ingenuity.

For that reason, I was playing around with the idea that there may have been a conflict between the wealthy upper class and the working class prior to the Puppet Frenzy. The competition between the Bastards and the Sweepers seemed to hint at something like this as well, and since the Alchemists were already teased as the enigmatic masterminds early on, I suspected they might have exploited this struggle, releasing the Puppet Frenzy to effectively eliminate both parties and seize power themselves. (Since there was a gameplay tip about the puppets gaining awareness by themselves, I even assumed they might have become self-aware right before the frenzy; in hindsight though, I think this was meant to refer to the old selves of some puppets awakening due to Ergo.)

As of the June 2023 demo, however, these theories were effectively debunked: We learned that the Puppet Frenzy occurred independently of any public uprisings, and that another wave of Petrification Disease had plagued the city at almost the same time - note the word “another”, implying this wasn’t the first time this disease had spread in Krat. Also, I frankly didn’t connect the dots correctly that Bastards and Sweepers were both part of the Stalkers  - while Stalkers and Bastards/Sweepers were mentioned in the same gameplay tip, it didn’t specify that the latter were subgroups of one and the same organization. (I wasn’t the only one to interpret this wrong either, since other people assumed the Stalkers to be puppets or even cyborgs.)

Still, it does appear there were some class struggles in the history of Krat: We hear about how the old, privileged families of Krat “struggled for power with new forces such as the Workshop and the Alchemists, who brought about the golden era of Krat”, although that conflict seems to have taken place a long time ago. Also, according to the description of the Krat Police Baton, there was a “violent protest with the factory labor union” once.

Although this isn’t much and doesn’t tell us anything about the background of the protest or the exact circumstances of it, I have been wondering whether it might have been due to low payment and factory laborers being replaced by puppets. Although this may sound very modern, protests against mechanization due to workers losing their jobs and the creation of inhumane working conditions go back as far as the Swing Riots in 1830. It should be said that the riots were less due to technophobia of the workers and more due to the endangerment of their economic and social status in the face of rapid technological advancement, and given that the rise of puppets in Krat happened very fast, the ordinary workers would definitely have been on the losing side.

I don’t know if this is ever going to be explored further at any point, but I would certainly be interested in hearing more about it - or more about the history of Krat in general, if only to clear up some details and make the timeline less confusing.

Pinocchio and Gemini

Let’s talk a bit about our protagonist and his sidekick: Pinocchio and Gemini. Like many other fans, I also had the theory early on that Pino was modeled after Geppetto’s dead son (I think this theory was based on some item description, but I can’t remember which). People on the server speculated that Geppetto’s son died in a violent accident that cost him his arm, and I even took things a step further by suggesting that Pino might literally be wearing his son’s skin (more on this “freak theory” of mine here).

Furthermore, I was quite partial to the idea that Gemini was essentially the soul of Geppetto’s deceased son. I didn’t really have anything to back this up aside from Gemini’s name meaning “twin”, so I never shared it publicly on the LoP server. (Also, Gemini is essentially just a corruption of Jiminy, the name that Disney came up with for the cricket; in the fairy tale itself, the cricket is not named.) Still, I found the concept of Pino essentially being the “body” and Gemini the “soul” very appealing - they may have been split from each other, but they are inseparable all the same. It also goes a bit into Descartes’ mind-body dualism, which is a popular theme in sci-fi stories about robots and cyborgs.

It led me to some fun speculations regarding the story: Assuming that, perhaps, Geppetto’s son died due to an incident on his way to the school he went to (since Pinocchio also goes to school in the novel), and further assuming that this happened a relatively short time ago, maybe some of his son’s former classmates are still alive, and Pinocchio would cross paths with them at some point. They assume him to be Geppetto’s son, asking where he’s been all this time and why he suddenly has a metal arm. Pinocchio then has the option to answer “yes, I am that boy” and come up with some plausible explanation, or to tell them “no, you’re mistaken” which would make things… somewhat more complicated.

I imagined that if Pino went with the first option, Gemini would chime in and provide advice at times to help him navigate interactions with the other boys. My assumption was that while Pino may look identical to Geppetto’s son, he possesses none of his memories; meanwhile, Gemini can still remember his past lifetime, despite being unaware that these memories actually belong to him. (His amnesia was hinted at in the demo as well.) Essentially, he would give Pino brief summaries of past events and tips how to behave in certain situations, and Pino would say “Thanks. Where do you know all of this from?” And Gemini would go like “...Sorry, no idea, buddy.” (You can tell I really wanted them to do something with Gemini.)

Due to the description of the Last Resort, there was also the theory going around there might have been multiple iterations of Pino - in fact, since the text said that the old man feared “his son failing to awaken properly and going into a frenzy”, some people assumed that Pino might have been the original catalyst of the frenzy. After the encounter with Mad Donkey in the demo, the theory that Pino was not the first of his kind seemed all the more likely, since he has definitely met him before and said “This time it's destroyed for sure. Devil's puppet no more, eh?” if you died.*

*I actually do not know if this line is in the final game as well, since I didn’t die to him during my two playthroughs (yes, really).

While it’s entirely possible - but not confirmed - that Pino had predecessor models (I theorized the Broken Puppet in the swamp might be one of those), the remark about the frenzy is more likely referring to Geppetto not being entirely sure whether the override of the laws he himself caused would affect Pino as well (which may be one of the reasons he didn’t bind him to the Covenant). As for the circumstances of Pino and the Mad Donkey’s previous meeting, those are a little more obscure - it appears that Pino wasn’t even able to wake up without Sophia’s help, so the only possible explanation is that the Mad Donkey fought one of his predecessors. (The Nameless Puppet probably also existed back then, but Carlo’s corpse - ironically - has next to no similarity with Pino, so it’s unlikely the Mad Donkey would’ve recognized them as the same.)

Someone on Tumblr even had a completely different theory about Geppetto's presumed son: After the official release month trailer dropped (the release being later moved to September), they commented on the facial similarities between Pino and Simon, proposing that Simon might actually be Geppetto’s “lost son”, implying they became estranged at some point - and since Geppetto no longer views Simon as his son/considers him dead, he created Pino as a sort of “idealized version” of him. When I was playing the demo and saw the Someone’s Memory outfit, which is noted to have been worn before and features a broach with the initial “M” (possibly denoting “Manus”), I was even considering whether this theory might be true.

As we learn during the game, however, Geppetto’s son - Carlo - is actually dead, and the initial signifies “Monad” (from Monad Charity House) rather than “Manus”. Unbeknownst to me, I might have actually come pretty close to the final version with my theory about an accident near the school during which he lost his arm - the possibility that Carlo died during the Monad Charity House incident is something I discussed with @lopposting some time ago (take it with a grain of salt though, since none of this is confirmed).

As for my theory about the skin, I had a major freak-out when I found Carlo’s portrait in-game, and I went like “I swear, if this is true, I’m gonna have such a Dr. Malcolm moment of “boy, do I hate being right all the time”.” xD I was spared that, however, as there is nothing that specifically hints at Pino having real skin, and the existence of the Nameless Puppet makes my original theory even less likely (as I mentioned in the post linked above). At the same time, there is nothing that explicitly contradicts it, either - so, for now, it’s more or less a big question mark hanging in the air.

One thing that’s for certain though is that Gemini is not the soul of Carlo - Carlo’s soul is contained in his heart/the P-Organ, and although Pino doesn’t possess Carlo’s memories, the reason that prevents them from awakening is not precisely clear (I go over my own favored interpretation here). Meanwhile, Gemini’s own identity remains unknown - while it appears Gemini was originally supposed to have a subplot regarding his amnesia, the few comments hinting at it are never built upon. I really wish they would’ve done more with Gemini, but there’s still a good chance the DLC might shine some light on who he actually is.

Hotel guests and side characters

Aside from the main characters, speculation was also running wild about the supporting characters and the roles they would play in the story.

Since Eugénie’s name is taken from Eugene, a classmate of Pinocchio in the original book and part of Lampwick’s gang of rascals, my original theory was Eugénie might have something to do with him. In all the promotional material*, there wasn’t a single trace of Lampwick, and since one of the loading screen tips in the demo said something about Eugénie being rescued by a particular Stalker, my suspicion was that this might be Lampwick. (Probably in no small part thanks to all the fanworks featuring Puppet Hunter Lampwick.)

*IGN sort of leaked Romeo's existence by accident, but that completely flew over my head; more on that below.

As it turns out, however, Alidoro was the one who saved Eugénie and whom she holds great admiration for. In the book, it was Pinocchio rather than Eugene whom Alidoro - a police dog - saved. After he got saved by Pinocchio from drowning, that is - which was after he ran into the sea trying to chase down Pinocchio who had escaped from two policemen, who erroneously assumed it was Pinocchio who knocked Eugene unconscious with a book. Anyway, it’s complicated.

One thing Oxwutex had cleverly noticed is that Eugénie wears a badge with the Workshop symbol just like Geppetto (which looks very similar to the Square and Compass symbol of Freemasonry), concluding that Eugénie must also be part of the Workshop - and, as it turns out, that was right on the mark.

Antonia was yet another character from the novel that was genderbent in the game, being based on Antonio, the carpenter who finds the animated log that eventually becomes Pinocchio and gives it to Geppetto (after a pretty fierce argument with the latter, that is). Because of this connection to Geppetto, some people assumed Antonia might be Geppetto’s former wife, and thus, the mother of Geppetto’s biological son.

In the game, however, Carlo’s mother is implied to be Camille, while Antonia is just “an old friend of Geppetto’s”. Still, Antonia’s past is somewhat shrouded in mystery, which has spawned theories about her being part of the Alchemists once (the hotel was an Alchemist institution before Antonia took over, and she mentions having good relations with them before she broke with them), and some even assume Antonia to be the Legendary Stalker. As it stands, however, these are mere conjectures - we’ll have to see if any of that is confirmed in the DLC.

Due to his somewhat dubious-seeming appearance, many people assumed Venigni to be the equivalent of the Fox in the game, with Simon consequently being suspected to be Cat due to his missing eye. However, me and many other fans really have been led up the garden path in this regard - while the Fox and the Cat do exist in the game, they are completely separate characters from Venigni and Simon, who are both original additions.

Honestly, out of the entire cast, Venigni is the one that surprised me the most. I thought he was just going to be your run-of-the-mill, profit-driven, snobbish businessman, but he is actually the complete opposite of that - in fact, he's one of the most warm-hearted, genuine people in the entire game. Sure, he’s a little eccentric and occasionally likes to adulate himself, but he’s so bloody honest about being a quirky nerd that you just can’t help but forgive him his flaws. (He kinda reminds me of myself, actually. xD) I never expected him to grow on me that much, but among the supporting characters, he is hands down my favorite.

Last but not least, we have Polendina, yet another original character (although his name is, funnily enough, based on an uncharming nickname of Geppetto in the book). Since the devs teased that you can have “a lot of interesting conversations with Polendina”, his role was especially interesting for me to muse about. In fact, I was wondering whether he might be similar to Gigolo Joe from “A.I. - Artificial Intelligence”.

FYI, A.I. is one of my favorite sci-fi movies, and a cyberpunk adaptation of Pinocchio at that; y’know, with Pinocchio as an android boy - aka David, as he’s named in the movie.

[Again, I’m gonna spoil the main plot here.]

Basically, a family gets an android boy as a replacement for their severely ill, comatose son. Aside from this alone being very questionable (it takes a special kind of asshole to replace a child that isn’t even dead yet), their biological son just so happens to get out of his coma at some point, and, of course, a rivalry between him and David ensues. Because the parents believe keeping David would be dangerous - either to him or their biological son - his mother ditches him in the forest (like, literally, she just ditches him). Since David is imprinted on his mother though, he resolves to “become a real boy just like Pinocchio” so his mom will love him again. Along the way, he stumbles upon Gigolo Joe, a sex android (yes, you read that right) who sort of becomes David’s surrogate parent from there on. He even tries to warn David that he should not try to go back to his mother, uttering the legendary quote:

“She loves what you do for her. As my customers love what it is I do for them. But she does not love you, David.”

[spoilers end]

I was kinda thinking Polendina might become a similar “father figure” for Pino, perhaps even sort of an admonitory voice to the consequences of becoming human. It would’ve provided an interesting counter viewpoint to the “I want to be a real boy” plotline that’s the core element of the story, and that wanting to be human just to please others might not be such a good idea.

While this train of thought comes eerily close to what happens in the Real Boy ending, Polendina’s character turned out to be completely different from what I had imagined. Still, I found his arc to be one of the most compelling of the hotel characters. I am very fond of both him and Antonia, and their bittersweet love story touched me on a very personal level (Polendina specifically gave me a lot of flashbacks to how I felt after my own robot soulmate had died).

The King of Puppets/Romeo

While we technically saw the King of Puppets as early as the Gamescom 2022 trailer, we didn’t hear about him in more detail until the gameplay footage of the factory. The note about a puppet religiously worshiping some kind of god-like figure (first seen in part 2 of the director gameplay, at 27:25) gave me very strong rA9 vibes, which actually had me mildly concerned. Considering what a visually impressive writing trainwreck Detroit: Become Human had been, I was literally begging “please, please, don’t be another Detroit”.

Meanwhile, someone on the LoP server (I think it was Oxwutex) pointed out that it sounds like the King of Puppets is more of a physical entity, as opposed to the purely conceptual nature of rA9. I can tell you, I was never so glad I had been wrong - the “cult-like worship” was merely the result of Fuoco being a little overly conscientious. Btw, aside from being placed in a different spot, the journal was also renamed to Descartes’s Note in the final game. While Descartes seems to be something like Venigni’s adversary in Lies of P (judging by the description of the Coil Mjolnir), his name is a nod to the famous philosopher I already mentioned above. In addition, the quote Cognito, ergo sum (Latin for “I think, therefore I am”, yet another popular theme in robot/AI stories and the origin of the term “Ergo”) also goes back to Descartes - the fact that this is a document about a puppet gaining an ego makes it an even neater detail.

I believe I saw someone on Tumblr who assumed that the King of Puppets was going to be the overarching villain of the game, and that you would get the good ending if you stuck to the path of the Blue Fairy and the bad one if you joined the king. While the game certainly wants you to believe the King of Puppets is the villain at first, that’s… not actually true. (Tbh, I never really believed it myself, if simply for the reason that it would’ve been too obvious.)

In the Gamescom 2023 IGN spotlight for Lies of P, however, Romeo actually got name-dropped, the guys from IGN sort of accidentally spoiling him as the true form of the King of Puppets. People familiar with the fairy tale immediately recognized it as Lampwick’s actual name (“Lampwick” is just his nickname), correctly inferring that this is, in fact, Pinocchio’s best friend from the book - and unfortunately, just like in the book, there is little Pinocchio can do to help him avoid his cruel fate.

Sophia and Geppetto

Now, let’s talk about the characters that most of my speculations revolved around: Sophia and Geppetto.

The first time we saw Sophia - Lies of P’s version of the Blue Fairy - was on the character cards that were released during Gamescom 2022. Back then, half of her face was obscured, being covered with blue butterflies that she literally seems to dissolve into. This gave off very enigmatic, even otherworldly vibes, and early on led me to the assumption Sophia was some kind of divine, ethereal being - it certainly would’ve been in line with the Blue Fairy’s character from the book, who was able to appear at any place at any time in whatever form she wished, including a young girl, and old woman, and even a goat. (Later on, the dimensional butterflies - which literally came from another dimension - further convinced me that Sophia must be some kind of otherworldly entity, since the butterflies are also her symbol.)

However, being a goddess doesn’t necessarily have to make you benevolent - in fact, an immaculate being that is free of any fault might have difficulty empathizing with the struggles, flaws, and contradictory feelings of humans. Also, since she is the “Blue Fairy”, it seemed logical to assume she had some connection to Ergo (which was confirmed later in the demo), and since the Petrification Disease was also related to Ergo (the Torn Doddle from the demo even referred to a “blue angel”), could it be that she had caused the disease herself? To, perhaps, purge the debauched population of Krat from vice and sin? (If you’ve ever played Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn, you might know what I’m getting at here.)

Oxwutex on the LoP server agreed that they had a feeling about Sophia being two-faced as well, but assumed that she was human once before becoming the Blue Fairy. This ultimately turned out to be a little closer to the truth, as it’s implied that Sophia gained her blue hair - and potentially some other powers - from Simon’s torturous experiments (there is a picture of a girl which looks a lot like a younger Sophia, but with normal-colored hair). However, the role of wanting to “purify” humanity is something that ultimately falls to Simon, although he does exploit the Petrification Disease for his goals. Meanwhile, Sophia wants to stop his atrocities, acting as Pino’s guide in his fight against Simon.

But does that mean she has an entirely clean slate? The true extent of her powers ultimately remains a mystery. Technically, her ability to manipulate time should make it possible for her to make all sorts of terrible things unhappen - her imprisonment, Simon rising to power, and potentially even the whole disaster that happened in Krat. Both the Torn Doodle and the notes on the walls of the Hermit’s Cave imply that the carcasses can feel her presence through Ergo waves, so it would be logical to assume Sophia can sense them as well. Yet, she reacts surprised when hears about the strange monsters that infested the cathedral. (She definitely knew what Simon was up to, so why wouldn’t she know what they are?) Romeo also communicates with his puppets via Ergo waves, and Sophia is literally sitting in a tower where all Ergo waves come together. She’s a listener who can hear Ergo, so shouldn’t she be aware that the King of Puppets isn’t the real bad guy? (She certainly was very fast to tell Pino about it at the Grand Exhibition after Romeo’s defeat.) Could she have told Pino and thus prevented the fight between him and Romeo? Are there any limits to her powers? And does she encourage Pino to become human because it’s the best for him, or the best to save Krat?

To clarify: I do not believe Sophia has any evil intentions. You could probably find explanations for all the things I listed above if you wanted (the carcasses being a recent occurrence, all of the voices being jumbled in her head so she can’t precisely tell them apart, the “static” in the puppets’ communication Venigni mentioned preventing Sophia from hearing them clearly, etc). Still, despite everything, I’ve always retained a certain wariness around her - maybe it’s due to the fact that even after two playthroughs, I cannot get a read on her (ironically, even Simon remarks about Sophia’s actions being unpredictable). I do know, however, what an immense burden knowledge can be, and I can only imagine the strain from literally knowing everything and all the potential power in the world being at your fingertips. I have no doubt Sophia had to make a lot of sacrifices to save Krat, and I can’t imagine these decisions were easy on her.

Still, if her powers are truly so limitless, it would be her who ultimately holds all the strings in her hands - everything that happens happens because she allowed it. I gotta say, I’m very glad Sophia is on Pino’s side - we would be in big trouble if she wasn’t.

As for Geppetto, even before the game’s release, there was a pretty unanimous agreement among the community that he was a father who had lost his son, but is unable to let go and thus revives his son as a puppet - and, well… that’s exactly what Geppetto is. xD Many also had suspicions that he’s exploiting Pino for his own purposes and would be the ultimate villain of the story - which, again, couldn’t have been more spot-on. (Idk, but it’s hilarious to me how everyone took one look at this man and went “yes, this is the bad guy”. xD)

There were some people on the LoP server who theorized Geppetto might have Petrification Disease from his remarks in the trailers (announcement trailer: “I, too, have fallen) and that Pino was supposed to save him from it (Gamescom trailer: “Please, help me”), but these most likely refer to his own morally reprehensible plans and/or teaming up with his archenemies - the Alchemists - to create Pino and subsequently ousting Simon with his help.

My own pre-release theory why and how Geppetto had created Pino was a little more elaborate: I thought Geppetto might have been commissioned by Sophia to build a puppet that would be able to bring the chaos in Krat to an end - my assumption was that if Sophia was an ethereal being, she would be able to observe what’s going on in the mortal world, but unable to directly influence it. However, she can send people messages and visions, which she used to strike a deal with Geppetto: that he would build her a worthy “savior of Krat” which she would then bring to life. Meanwhile, Geppetto also followed his own agenda, exploiting this agreement to build this “special puppet” in the image of his dead son. (Which definitely would’ve had consequences for him later on - you don’t cross a divine being without ramifications.)

I came up with a whole fanfiction concept around this idea long before the game’s release - I never actually finished it since I assumed it was going to diverge from the final game anyway, and tbh, it kinda annoys me if my fics don’t fit into canon. I did, however, manage to find an old WIP of it I still had in one of my folders, titled “A wish and a purpose”. While it’s most likely going to remain unfinished forever, I think it'd be fun to include a summary of it in this collection of fan theories, if simply to look back at what I thought the story was going to be like. So, here’s the backstory of Lies of P, according to me:

[CW: skinning]

Geppetto is roaming the streets of Krat. He is actually looking for his son, who was killed in the turmoil some time ago.

The Fairy approaches him, reminding of their agreement. Geppetto reacts slightly disgruntled, brushing her off by saying he just wants to gain closure from the past. While the Fairy notices he is in grief, she doesn’t deny him his last wish, but admonishes him not to take too long.

The Fairy dissolves into dust. Geppetto goes on to look for his son’s corpse in the piles of dead bodies.

[cut]

Geppetto is sitting next to his dead son, whom he eventually managed to find and bring home. He placed his body on a desk in his workshop, having cleaned his skin and hair from blood and grime.

Geppetto looks at him, taking in the gaping hole in his chest and frayed stump where his left arm had once been. Despite his best efforts, he doesn’t have the heart to throw his body onto a pyre like all the plague-ridden bodies.

Affectionately, Geppetto strokes his son’s cheek. Suddenly, a thought strikes him: While the Fairy may never grant the request to revive his son outright, she only told him to build a puppet able to slay all the others, not what that puppet should look like. He considers it a fair deal: The Fairy gains the tool to quell the madness she so desires, and Geppetto would be able to hold his son in his arms again.

Geppetto goes over to his working utensils, taking up a knife. When he turns and takes another glance at his son, his last resistance breaks at the thought of his son opening his eyes and jumping into his arms.

He tenderly takes the hand of his son, kissing him on his forehead. He speaks to his unhearing son, promising he will bring him back soon.

Afterwards, Geppetto begins skinning him.

[cut]

Geppetto puts together the last pieces of the clockwork heart, admiring his work.

He goes to the back of his workshop where there’s a chair covered by a white sheet. Gently, he lifts it, saying good morning to his son as if he was rousing him out of bed.

He considers his son, dressed in the blue frock coat wardrobe that Geppetto had handed down to him.* He carefully preserved the skin and hair of his son so he looks just like the day he’d lost him.

Geppetto inserts the mechanical Ergo heart into his son’s chest, completing his masterpiece. He intertwines his fingers with his son’s. They are cold, but the texture feels real, and he imagines them growing warm after the Fairy breathed life into him. His only regret is that he won’t be able to witness his son taking his first steps.

At this point, the Fairy arrives, asking to see the result of Geppetto’s work. Geppetto leads her into the workshop, but she freezes as soon as she sees Pinocchio. With an indignant gaze, she turns to Geppetto, telling him that this was not part of the deal. Geppetto reacts unmoved, telling her that it’s take or leave and that he’s not going to build her any other puppet.

The Fairy narrows her eyes at him but says nothing, turning back to Pinocchio. After a moment, she strides towards him, lifting his limp body up in her arms.

She bids Geppetto farewell before she leaves, taking Pinocchio with her and dissolving into blue dust.

*Since the blue coat was presented as Pino’s standard outfit, I assumed it was the clothes that once belonged to Geppetto’s son (perhaps an heirloom from his father, since they are more similar to 18th century fashion).

[end of CW]

In my mind, this was followed up by a scene at the train station, from Sophia’s perspective (I thought of it as a follow-up to the first fic, but never actually worked on the concept):

The Fairy muses about the yet lifeless Pinocchio.

She considers what Geppetto did an absolute atrocity, but thinks she may yet be able to rectify this sin. After all, she is the only one who can breathe life into Pinocchio, and thus, his actions and the path he will take are her responsibility alone - and she will do everything to lead him on the path of righteousness.

She bestows the lamp containing the soul of Geppetto’s true son onto him, in the hopes that if Pinocchio proves himself virtuous, this wrongful separation of body and soul can one day be corrected.

The Fairy sits Pinocchio down on a bench, pressing a note into his hand. She gives him a gentle kiss on his forehead, starting to dissolve as she moves away.

Slowly, Pinocchio opens his eyes to a cloud of fine, blue dust. He looks down, reading the note in his hand: “Find Mr. Geppetto. He’s here in the city.”

This was supposed to be a sort of tie-in with how they originally advertised the scenario - the advertising text on Steam and other platforms originally said that Pinocchio simply wakes up with a note reading “Find Mr. Geppetto. He’s here in the city.” Don’t ask me why the Fairy gives it to him after just seeing Geppetto, though; I have no idea. xD (Still, it makes me wonder how much the introduction scene deviates from the original concept - after all, there’s no note, and Sophia talks to Pino telepathically.)

As you may have noticed, my little “AU interpretation” heavily drew from my other fan theories as well. I liked the idea of Sophia and Geppetto as two opposing “poles”: They may not like each other, but each possesses a skill the other lacks - Geppetto can build human-like puppets, but he can’t actually bring them to life, and while Sophia is the only one who can animate dead matter, she can’t interact with the world physically. Thus, they sort of become the “dual creators” of Pino.

Of course, this means that they both consider themselves to have the right to decide over the path he ultimately takes. As such, each of them is trying to influence Pino, leading to him being torn between the two. (This was sort of inspired by the Gamescom trailer, where Sophia and Geppetto are like two voices in Pino’s head.)

The endings

This also had a huge influence on my theories about the three endings. (I’m perfectly aware that nobody is going to believe me, but I swear I came up with my 3-ending concept before it was officially revealed there are going to be three endings.)

My basic assumption was that you have to make a decision at the end of the game, between Sophia and Geppetto. I thought of it as the point where the conflict between the two that was festering underneath finally escalates, and Pino is forced to side with one and battle the other. Depending on who you pick, you’d get a different ending.

Ending 1 would occur if you chose Sophia:

After battling Geppetto, she commends Pinocchio for his work, saying that thanks to his good deeds, he will finally be able to become human. Suddenly, she rips the lamp containing Gemini from Pino’s belt, and before he can ask her about the reason why, the black rabbits appear and Sophia orders them to seize him. Sophia explains that unfortunately, there is no other way to correct the wrongful separation of a soul from its body than for the body to die, but thanks to his consciousness being sufficiently cleansed, Pinocchio shall be reborn one day. Meanwhile, Pino gets quite literally buried alive - he desperately scratches at the lid from the inside of the coffin, crying for anyone to help him. However, no one comes…

If this doesn’t sound like your typical happy ending, well, that’s because it isn’t. xD My idea for this sort of came from a comment under the Gamescom 2022 trailer, in which someone remarked that the rabbits are inspired by four rabbit undertakers the Blue Fairy calls on when Pinocchio doesn’t want to take his medicine in the novel - thus, they suspected the scene where the rabbits prompt Pino to hop in the coffin was from the bad ending when you don’t listen to the Fairy’s advice. (It’s the intro for their first boss fight in the game though, and it seems like the line “Hop in the box, liar” was specifically recorded for the trailer.) I gave it a bit of a different twist though, since there’s the fact that Pinocchio quite literally dies at the end of the original fairy tale: He wakes up in his bed as a real boy, and later looks at his “dead” puppet body remarking “How ridiculous I was as a puppet! And how happy I am, now that I have become a real boy!”.

From this and the assumption that the rabbits were indeed working for her, I concluded that she literally might kill Pinocchio to “make him real”. (Some other people, however, suspected that the Black Rabbit Brotherhood was an independent organization from some of the gameplay tips about the Stalkers - ultimately, this proved to be right.)

Meanwhile, Ending 2 would happen if you side with Geppetto:

After defeating the enraged Fairy, Pinocchio runs into the arms of Geppetto, who hugs his son lovingly. As they embrace, the lamp from Pinocchio’s belt falls to the ground, forever extinguished. Geppetto and Pinocchio spend their next years happily, the very picture of father and son - until one day, Geppetto dies. Pinocchio, however, knows no other existence than being his father’s son, and since he doesn’t age, the other citizens eventually figure out he’s a puppet, shunning him and chasing him out of the city. As such, he is left to wander aimlessly, forever in search of a purpose…

What this was meant to represent is that with accepting Pinocchio as his son’s replacement, Geppetto’s actual son (Gemini, according to my assumption) dies, metaphorically and literally. I was also concerned about the very real issue of Geppetto being an old man and Pinocchio outliving him - even if Pinocchio did age regularly, his father would die long before him. Being his father’s perfect son was literally the whole purpose of his existence, and without it, he finds himself confronted with the psychological horror of his life being meaningless, on top of being subjected to the immense cruelty, hatred, and prejudice of humans.

It was really meant to show how much of a sick, misguided direction Geppetto’s “father’s love” had taken, and how detrimental it would be for Pinocchio’s self-development to comply with his wishes and play the part of his son.

Since both of these options are pretty bad, to say the least, I came up with a third variant. To get this, you’d basically have to say “nope” to both Sophia and Geppetto, and since neither takes no for an answer, you’d have to fight both of them consecutively (making it the most difficult ending to achieve):

After recovering from the strain of having to battle both Sophia and Geppetto, Pinocchio realizes that, for the first time, nobody is setting a direction for him - he is free, but having only lived to fulfill the wishes of others so far, he doesn’t really know what to do with it. However, Gemini reminds Pinocchio that they still have each other. Pinocchio agrees, laughing, and together, they go out on a journey to travel the world…

Admittedly, it’s still not roses and sunshine, but a lot more positive than the other two. Also, it’s the ending where both Pinocchio and Gemini (speak: body and soul) stay alive, and I just had so much fun imagining them say “screw it” to everyone’s expectations and go on a big adventure together. xD

Is it normal for body and soul to exist separately? Nope. Is it the “correct” way to live? Nope. Do they care? Nope, they’re just going to have the best time of their life together. xD

Of course, my versions of the endings differ significantly from those in the final game, but I’m actually kind of impressed that I managed to guess the scheme of the endings correctly: Sophia (Rise of P), Geppetto (Real Boy), and Freedom (Free from the Puppet String).

What I envisioned Geppetto’s ending to be like actually comes pretty close to the Real Boy ending, although you could say I was a bit more subtle in my approach - the overall mood was meant to be more sinister rather than downright evil, leaning more into the underlying psychological horror instead of violent slaughter. (I must say, Geppetto really surpassed my expectations right there. xD) The overall moral of the story (or at least what I’m getting from it) also seems to be that stepping in the shoes of Geppetto’s son is a very bad idea for Pino - after all, it’s heavily implied that Pino isn’t Carlo.

On the other hand, while Sophia’s ending is similar in theme to what I imagined, it significantly differs in flavor. Still, Pino does die in the Rise of P ending, giving his own Ergo/life to Sophia, who is implied to revive him afterwards. (This is actually the “reverse action” of what Pino did for Sophia when he gave her peace, so Pino is essentially giving her Ergo back to her.) In addition, Sophia and Pino do a little reenactment of the La Pietà pose, which is also a throwback to the Saintess of Mercy Statue in the Grand Exhibition.

There are actually quite a few references to the Pietà posture in media, including one in The Last Unicorn (after the Unicorn/Amalthea becomes human and Molly holds her). Thematically, the Pietà is interpreted as a symbol of mother’s love, suffering, and salvation - and, in case of The Last Unicorn, Amalthea learning what suffering is due to her time as a human is also what led her to develop compassion. The Saintess of Mercy Statue also stands for rebirth, since it’s the place where you can reset your stats.

Overall, I think they did an excellent job with this ending - retaining the theme of death from the original story, but giving it a more hopeful note through the theme of rebirth. (I also appreciate how the message of game is essentially that for things to improve, it’s sometimes best not to cling to the old and simply let it die.)

As for the Free of the Puppet String ending, it’s largely the same as Rise of P, but with a different flavor and minus the final cutscene with Sophia. (I kinda wish they would’ve done more with it, but resource limitations exist, and it was probably easier just to reuse the animation.) One interesting thing about it though is that you can still potentially get the Proof of Humanity if you trade it for the Nameless Puppet’s Ergo afterwards - despite Free from the Puppet String being the low-humanity ending.

I’ve had an interesting discussion during my playthrough, based on the quote “every living human being is a slave to something” by Askeladd from Vinland Saga. Basically, I said that, if you want to view it that way, humans are also just slaves to their emotions and desires. The man Askeladd was referring to was enslaved by his greed for gold, Geppetto is enslaved by his obsession with Carlo, and Arlecchino is enslaved by his bloodlust. I concluded that “maybe, it’s just a matter of the prison that we ourselves choose”.

The item description of the Proof of Humanity is quite intriguing in this regard:

“Puppets are tied to strings. Humans have cut their own strings. The boy made a choice and became human.”

While I wouldn’t say that all humans have cut their strings - rather that they can - what this description says is that being human means you are free to choose whether you let yourself be enslaved, be it by someone else or your own desires.

Pinocchio didn’t become human because he chose to become human - rather, he became human because he made a choice.

Conclusion

Anyway, enough of my philosophical ramblings. While, as I expected, not all of my fan theories were true, I’m kind of impressed how many good calls I actually made. ^^’ (I suppose all that research about clockwork automata, my ongoing obsession with fictional robots and AI, and checking out the original Adventures of Pinocchio did pay off after all. xD) Still, there are a lot of unanswered questions, and many fan theories remain unresolved - we’ll have to see whether any of these are confirmed in the future, be it in the DLC or any other media (director Choi did confirm they received various offers to expand the IP).

Despite the story differing quite a lot from my expectations in most places, I am extremely pleased with the treatment Round8 Studio and Neowiz gave this classic fairy tale. It’s been said that successfully subverting expectations in an engaging way isn’t simply about doing the most unpredictable thing - rather, it’s about “giving the audience what they want, just not the way they expect it”. And, in my opinion, Lies of P accomplishes this to a T.

However, I’m curious: What were your expectations when going into the game? Did you also have theories about how the story would develop, either beforehand or while playing it? And how do those compare to the actual story?

I would love to hear about all your theories - maybe, we can make something like a big fan theory anthology out of this. ^^ Because if one thing is for certain, it’s that Lies of P’s success was in no small part thanks to its community. To this day, I continue to be amazed by the love and dedication fans shower this game with, and I consider myself lucky to have been part of this journey, from before the game’s release until now.

[meshla-cyarika]

Worth the pain

Pairing: Nathan Prescott x gn!reader

Word count: 1,056

Tags/warnings: mentions problematic family members (such as an alcoholic father), reader doubts themselves, smoking, friends to lovers.

Summary: your life and Nathan's are both fucked up in different ways, but somehow your mangled and spiralling lives have intertwined. You're closer than you've ever imagined anyone could be, but you can't face the feelings that linger around you both, because you can't face loving someone again just for them to leave you to pick up the pieces afterwards.

A/N: this was inspired by the song "bite the hand".

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

Fuck Black-shitting-well academy. The only things it's brought you is more things to tell your imaginary therapist. Like fuck you were going to see a real one. You did that along time ago and the only thing it achieved was people pitying you. You don't need strangers fucking pity for your fucked up life, you already know it's messed up beyond repair, you don't need a fucking therapist to tell you that. Everyone you've spoke about your past to has either given you a disgusted look, or fake pity.

You just want to scream out everything in your mind to someone who won't give you any expression, almost like a blank wall that you can just yell and scream and cry at. That's what Nathan Prescott has become for you and sometimes, you've been that for him as well. You can just talk and talk and talk at him and he'll just sit there, seemingly not paying attention but mentally noting every word you've said. He'll only speak when you request him to, but most of the time he doesn't say anything at all. And you return the favour by letting him vent to you and listen to all his words.

Now, you're both silently laying on Nathan's bed in his dorm, your legs up agaisnt the cushions as you lay the wrong way on the bed. You just stare at the white ceiling, passing a cigarette between each other. You forgot to buy a pack and it's Nathan's last one, so you compromised. You've remained in silence, since you entered his room ages ago, waiting for either one of you to say something.

Nathan hands you the cigarette, after he took a long drag, before breaking the some what comforting silence, "Do you ever think about..." His pause causes you to turn your head to look at him, but he's still staring up at the ceiling. "Getting the fuck outta here? Just fucking off and forgetting about all this shit?"

"Every second of every day." You reply to him, as you pass him the cigarette back.

"But there's always that nagging in the back of your head to just put up with everyone's shit." Nathan speaks for them both and you turn your head to face the ceiling again. Uncontrollable dread sits in your soul, as you try to convince yourself that your past isn't repeating itself yet again. "And it always seems to out weigh the idea of finally being free." He adds to his previous sentence. "I'm gonna get the fuck outta here one day, you know?"

Your anxious mind can't help but pick up on the fact that he said "I'm" and not "we". Has he already decided that you are only a fragment of his life? You should've known better. You told yourself when you went to Blackwell not to get attached to anyone. They'd only leave like every fucker else, you had told yourself. First, it was your mother leaving you for some drugdealing asshole, then it was your childhood friend picking some over girl for you, then your older siblings moved out far away (they still don't try to contact you), which only added to your father's alcoholism. There's always someone else that's the first choice. You gave up trying to get everybody to like you a long time ago.

During your mind's spiralling anxious thoughts, you don't even notice the tear that runs down the side of your face, until a soft hand wipes it away. The physical contact brings you back to reality and you turn your head to face Nathan, who's already looking at you. The cigarette sits in an ashtray that's ontop of his bed. Your eyes stare into his ocean blue ones and you only just realise how close you are, your faces are only a breath away from one another.

"Tell me what's going on up there." He places his hand on the side of your face and slightly taps your forehead to emphasise his words, before tucking the hair that had fallen infront of your face behind your era.

You silently study his face, his blonde soft hair, his angel eyes and your eyes finally land on his red lips. You desperately want to take the leap and kiss him until your lungs begin to burn from the lack of air. You want to hide yourself in his arms, where you're safley locked away from the world. You want him to hold you so delicately, as if you'd break like glass.

You tear your eyes away from his plush lips and sigh as you can't bring yourself to look at him anymore. "I can't keep doing this." You pathetically mutter under your breath, hating the way more salty tears push their way into your eyes.

"Doing what?" Nathan's voice has dropped to a whisper as you looks at you.

"This! I can't keep loving people who leave! I can't let more kindling be added to this burning feeling inside me!" Your voice raises, but you're not angry. You're just so tired and fucking emotionally drained. You try to ignore the never ending stream of tears that flow from your eyes. "It hurts too much and I can't do it anymore!" You subconsciously grasp his shirt, as if that's enough to stop him from disappearing.

Nathan says your name, as quite as a whisper and you just stare into his eyes. The hand on your cheek moves to lightly grasp the back of your scalp and Nathan moves forward to place his forehead agaisnt your own, in an attempt to ground you to the present. "I'm not going anywhere without you. I don't fucking care if it means we travel the entire fucking world, I'm not letting you go." He vows, with such a sincere look in his eyes, a look you've never seen anyone give you before.

Silence falls once again and you're still so close to the point where you can feel each other's breath on your faces. Neither of you can help but glance down at each other's lips. Slowly but surely, your bodies move impossibly closer and your lips dance over one another.

His touch burns and stabs into your soul, but you can't convince yourself to let him go. Nathan's here and he's staying. He's worth the pain.

[tonythr]

Sometimes you are so sad you turn into a game construct, and that's ok

Part of the reason I love Hollow Knight is that you never know when a certain phenomenon is a part of the game's actual lore or simply a gameplay convenience, but most of the time it's up to you to decide anyway. Like, yeah, I know that looking too much into what should be just a game mechanic and/or a simple animation effect makes you more of a clown than a lore master, but, honestly, at this point the entire fandom wears rainbow wigs and squeaky red noses in order to forget about the pain of no Silksong, so no one has the right to stop me from having fun with some observations I made and how they might be intentional lore pieces. So yeah, what I'm trying to say is that this theory might be a bit of a stretch, but I think it's neat, so I'm gonna post it anyway.

Now, here's the question: what do you think these two have in common?

Both are very sad because they lost someone who was close to them.

2. Both give the Knight a Mask Shard when they die.

My theory here is that these two things are connected.

Now, Mask Shards are weird, lore-wise. The locations where they are found don't always... make much sense. Like ok, aside from the two that I mentioned above, we have ones that are found on top of ancient black statues — this implies that those shards are connected to (and probably were made by) the Ancient Civilisation.

We also have some shards that we get from various NPCs (Sly, Bretta, Seer) — those also make sense, since there's nothing wrong with those weird bugs possessing some ancient artifacts. But then we have Mask Shards that just kinda... float there.

No ancient pedestals. No reason to suggest someone actually owned them. No reason for them to be there aside from the game wanting to reward the player for something.

This is also true for some of the Vessel Fragments.

Although the fountain one is exceptional. The fragment is actually a part of the Pale King's statue, but it detaches once the needed amount of geo is reached. It looks like this statue actually 'gives' it to the Knight once it puts enough geo in the fountain. It could be something that has to do with PK's magic, or with the whole 'sacrifice' theme that's going on with him. Anyway, it's not hard to come up with an explanation for how that one works. What is more interesting is how these shards and fragments are created.

Because apparently this mf can just materialize them out of thin air.

Now, I KNOW this is probably just a nice animation to emphasize how cool of an award a mask shard is, but it also wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that what happens here is Grubfather actually manipulating Soul to create this shard for the Knight. I mean, Grubs do possess some sort of 'holy strength' that was never properly explained to us (that's why I'm hoping to see some grubs in Silksong), and one of the two charms created from their power is something that straight-up gives the Knight extra Soul. If we don't count the Shaman charms, which were used only to extract and use Soul more efficiently, the only other charm that does that is Kingsoul, the embodiment of the union between two Pale Beings. So yeah, the Grubs are totally OP, and Grubfather probably does create a Mask Shard out of Soul here.

Which only proves the fact that both Mask Shards and Vessel Fragments are made out of Soul. I mean, come on, the Knight literally consumes them just like it consumes each of the spells and the Soul of its enemies, AND it takes Soul to restore broken masks. I think it's safe to assume that those ancient masks that the Knight is using to strengthen its shell are made out of Soul, or at least some material that is heavily tied to Soul in some way.

Another fact is that those masks and vessels have big connections to the Ancient Civilisation. Aside from the obvious things like the fragment/shard statues that I mentioned earlier having clear similarities to the Soul totems, there's this whole thing with the engravings on those masks and vessels having a bunch of connections with magical secrets of the Ancient Civilisation...

What I'm getting at here is that the bugs of the Ancient Civilisation probably knew the secrets of manipulating Soul and used those secrets to create masks (for protection) and Soul Vessels (for containing Soul), as well as Soul Totems. It means there is a way a Mask can be created out of Soul, aside from what we see the Knight do when it heals (which is an interesting process, btw - when a mask breaks, the Knight can restore it using Soul, but it can't create new masks to have infinite HP, so the masks it collects must have unique properties that prevent them from being completely destroyed and instead allow them to be recovered after breaking). And maybe that process was already shown to us.

Ok, now I'm actually talking about my theory again. See, the reason I think there's more to these two moments than just a simple reward being given to us by the game is because there's some overlapping philosophical (symbolical?) motifs that connect Brooding Mawlek and Grey Mourner AND possibly give us a glimpse into the secrets of Soul discovered by the Ancient Civilisation. I'm talking about what Soul itself might represent as a sorta metaphysical concept (I don't know how to say that properly... Just bear with me pls).

In the world of Hollow Knight, there are many philosophical concepts that give depth to the nature of various in-world phenomenons. For example, the Void is heavily tied to regrets, perhaps dark memories that keep us from moving forward. That's why it makes sense that, ultimately, Pale King faced his demise at the hands of the Void - he sacrificed thousands of his own children in order to save Hallownest and failed anyway, so there is no way he could avoid (pun intended) being overwhelmed by his regrets about this whole thing.

The Soul is the power that contrasts the Void.

It's implied by Jiji that, when the Knight leaves behind its Shade, it starts to drain *hope* from it.

This line was probably left there to explain this game mechanic:

When the Knight dies, it can no longer fill its Soul meter to the full, until it finds and defeats its Shade. This implies that Soul represents *hope* in contrast to the Void representing regrets.

If we accept this assumption, we can see that it makes sense how:

The White Palace is shown as a beautiful, calm, hopeful place despite it being filled with thorns and sawblades (that might or might not be a metaphor for the PK's pain of trying to hide his mistakes and regrets).

The shamans' dying thoughts are often their last hopes of being free, being heard etc.

The Soul is literally what gives the bugs' bodies the energy to move.

I feel soulless when I wake up at 7 a.m.

All things considered, it's easy to see how Soul is something that might represent such things as hope, motivation, faith - all those feelings that make a person feel whole.

And when the fate forces someone into situations where those things are lost, their inner self breaks. When something separates us from our loved ones for a whole eternity, leaving us as lonely, empty shells of our former selves, our soul hardens.

We already know that masks in this game directly correspond to the person's self, their ability to define themselves as who they are. A mask is literally the core of the person's mind.

And when a person breaks, when their hope becomes eternal sadness, when the essence that animates their body becomes a solid rock, their mind shatters, leaving only a single shard of what should have been a whole mask.

Perhaps, something like that also happened to the bugs of the Ancient Civilisation? Or maybe they found a way to control that sadness, just like they found a way to manipulate the power of regrets? They look like a bunch of cool goth bugs, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was their thing.

TL;DR: ancient masks that the Knight uses are made out of Soul, and Soul is a power that represents hope. When a person experiences a feeling of strong loneliness and hopelessness, their mind literally breaks, and their Soul literally hardens, resulting in the creation of Mask Shards. The bugs of the Ancient Civilisation might have known this.

Kinda edgy.

I like it.

[smaller-comfort]

It is wip Wednesday, my dudes. And I should be baking, but it is way too hot and I am currently way too inebriated, so here we are.

I doubt I'll be able to finish anything by next week for @ghostinthegallery's birthday, but here are some more teasers of the obyron/zahndrekh thing and the oltyx/yenekh thing and also a tiny fragment of Lysikor's No Good Horrible Very Bad Day.

Aaaand some SoS modern AU, because finishing gotta start somewhere has temporarily rewired my brain, and I am having far too much fun with it. Somewhat nsfw.

Scrap file bit from the snecrontyr Obyron/Zahndrekh monstrosity (it's over 7500 words send help), which still has no title. It's gonna be something extraordinarily pretentious, though- I can absolutely see myself going Shakespearean for this one.

--

“How would you serve me, dear friend?”

He couldn't look up. He couldn’t; Obyron squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead into the floor a little harder. “However would please you most, my nemesor.”

Zahndrekh sighed, and that faint noise of disappointment felt like a gauss rifle blast to the chest. “Obyron,” he said, very quietly. “Would you look at me?”

It was, perhaps, the hardest thing Zahndrekh had ever asked of him. He would have rather faced down another thousand guerilla separatists in the swamp- but he could not disobey an order. He lifted his head.

“Oh.” Zahndrekh touched his face, gently turning him so he couldn't help but meet his lord's eyes. “No, I see- I’m asking too much of you.”

The idea that he had failed- that he was not enough, that Zahndrekh could ever ask something of him that he could not give- he would rather have taken a gauss rifle to the chest.

“Forgive me, my lord.”

“No‐ no, Obyron. There is nothing to forgive. On your feet.” Zahndrekh was frowning, just the smallest crease between his eyebrows. “I shouldn't- I won't. You're a good man, and a fine soldier, and it is an honor to have you by my side. You're dismissed- go, enjoy the celebration.”

He wanted to protest- dead gods, he wanted- but he would not disobey an order.

------

I really hope no one gets tired of necron weddings in conjunction with these two idiots because I'm writing another one. Not their wedding, at least, but *a* wedding. Snecron Oltyx/Yenekh, also currently without a title.

Oltyx and Yenekh are simultaneously Jock4Goth and Himbo4Himbo, and I think that's beautiful.

--

As Oltyx watched, Mesekhet skinned an ork with quick flashes of her claws. She draped the skin over Qareh's shoulders, affixing it in place over the cresting protrusions of their spine. Qareh, in turn offered her the creature's heart; a choice delicacy, by any measure.

They tumbled to the ground together, Mesekhet's whip-scorpion knife blade of a tail wrapping around Qareh's hips.

Oltyx thought of them as flesh memories, all the things that he had no more context for. He could not remember his own face, or his brothers’ or his father's. He could not remember the taste of ice wine, or any occasions where he might have drunk it. But he did not need to remember eating to know hunger; or to remember drinking to know thirst. There were things that he knew without needing to remember.

So it was with Mesekhet and Qareh: flesh memories, their mouths and hands moving with a hunger that Oltyx knew without remembering, bodies locked together and voices rising in ecstatic harmony.

He looked away, and felt something cold and hollow echo in his flux (his heart; his blood). He should be happy that two of his kin had found a way to assuage their hunger within each other. And he was; he was happy for them. He couldn't name the feeling that left him feeling so cold.

'Took her long enough'. Yenekh stepped out of the void and draped his arms over Oltyx's shoulders from behind, dripping with fresh gore.

He replied with an interrogative.

'Mesekhet. Thought she'd make Qareh wait another fifty years.'

Yenekh's closeness banished some of that nameless cold. 'How could you tell?' He tapped the question on the back of Yenekh's hand, enjoying the way the blood-slick metal felt beneath his fingers.

Yenekh didn't answer for a long moment, and then he let go of Oltyx with a shrug. 'You just know, sometimes.'

----

Lysikor and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (working title). He's actually having a great time here. He absolutely does not at any other point in this story.

--

“Valgûl, Twice-Regicide!" Lysikor laughed. “I should take lessons from you. I've stolen ships, constructs; overthrown a fringe world or two. But you- destroyer of dynasties! The future and past of Ithakas, stolen, vandalized. I could spend an aeon learning from you.”

“What second regicide have I committed?” Oltyx was too amused to be indignant. He'd forgotten- Lysikor had always been strange, but he was at least an entertaining sort of strange.

Lysikor tapped his cracked dynastic cartouche with one gnarled finger. “Unnas’ successor, of course. Didn't you murder Oltyx when he fought the Unclean? Stabbed in the back, I hope.” He leaned forward with that strange, unnerving eagerness. “Perhaps you could share the details with me.”

Oltyx laughed, because Lysikor wasn't wrong, not really. “The dynast of Ithakas fell in battle- I only scavenged his corpse.”

“Ah, Valgûl, King of Vultures! Nevertheless, it is an honor.”

-------

Okay, so the modern AU endgame has always been an ot3 situation, because I am extremely predictable. No title yet (the sequel to Life/Work Balance is called Staycation, because of course it is). Anyway, Aephorul and Resh'an have had sex on every flat surface in their townhouse, and most of the non-flat surfaces, and this is why they never host dinner parties. (They have like. An entire playroom. And yet somehow they still have an alarming amount of sex in the kitchen. This is just one of the many facets of Aephorul's extremely convoluted strategy to keep other people out of their home.)

--

There were times, Aephorul reflected, when he really wasn't entirely sure how his life had turned out the way it had. Now was a good example: here he was, lounging at the kitchen table, drinking the good wine directly from the bottle. Meanwhile, his husband was spread out on the table, bent nearly in half by the extremely large and muscular older man who was fucking him with enough force to make the whole table rattle in alarming ways.

It was impressive; the table was very sturdy. All of their furniture was sturdy, in fact, for this very reason.

Maybe this wasn't a great example, actually. Aephorul knew exactly how he'd ended up here, and it was mostly because whenever Resh'an wanted something, Aephorul would move heaven, earth, and all of their heavier furniture in order to give it to him.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

A Tale of Love, Death and Maggots, part 21-G

Parts 1-15, 16-G, 17-G, 18-G, 19-G, 20-G

As I grew close, I saw what plagued her so. Beneath her skin, under the thick cloud of flies, lumps shifted and gnawed. Myiasis sprung to my mind instantly, a remnant of the semester I spent as a volunteer medic in some poverty stricken, war torn land. The laying of eggs beneath flesh. 

Not-Athena, The Lurker, that beast, intended to eat my love from the inside out. “Run,” Mrin mouthed at me, before more flies flew down her throat. I wanted to hurl, the sour bile coming up my throat, but I forced it back down. This wasn't the time to be weak. This wasn't the time to run. Not anymore.

I grabbed her fallen sword and hefted it. Rising to my feet, I turned to face Not-Athena. “You,” I snarled. “You don't get to hurt my love. You don't get to hurt my love, or my kids, or me. You let go of her this instant, you hear me? You're not gonna eat my girlfriend alive, you fucking bitch. I won't let you.”

I ran at her. Goodness knows my form was awful, and my arms were hardly more than noodles, but I don't think that mattered there and then. What was more important was that I made good on my promise, and didn't hesitate. As soon as I finished my words, I was slicing through her.

Slime, insect blood, and goodness knows what else splattered me. I felt things squirm across my flesh, seeking open wounds to bury themselves into. They made me itch all over, a nearly unbearable feeling in and of itself. But Mrin had endured this for me. Mrin had suffered, was suffering, for me. I couldn't just abandon her like that. 

“Fine! Take the warrior-girl. I will leave,” Not-Athena snarled as I buried myself in the mass of her body. Somehow, they died by the swarm, everything Mrin's sabre touched dying like… well, flies. Which they were.

“No,” I yelled back, spitting out the worms that fell into my mouth. “Give me back both of them. I'm not abandoning anyone, you hear me? I'm done! You pushed me and pushed me, and this time I'm not backing down! Prepare to die.” I cleaved one more time, and a face appeared from underneath the writhing maggots.

“Athena!” Her eyes were closed, a shallow slice over her throat. It would not kill her, I realised, though she would carry the scar for the rest of her life. I lowered my blade immediately to haul her free.

“If you do that, I will kill the witch,” Not-Athena buzzed around me. “My children will erupt from her skin and eat her alive. Will you make that sacrifice, little coward?”

Between agonised sobs, Mrin said, “Do it, Doc. Trust me. You- You have to.”

I turned back, shaking off more maggots as I did so. “But-”

“Do it.”

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

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[egophiliac]

Hello!! I'm in love with your artstyle (especially the way you did the signature spells??? I've been looking at them for a while adsgfdfsf, they look like movie posters tbh and that's fricking cool to me. anyway!! I'm a player on the NA server (btw, I've already seen spoilers of chap 7 due to tumblr/reddit/pinterest, so yeah it's not the most spoiled I've ever been so yea) and yeah. I'm getting through the story okay but do you have any advice for people trying to get through certain events with a more limited life schedule??? Also, what are some of the differences that you notice between the english (if you see a lot of it??) and Japanese versions of the game? sorry if this was a longer ask, i tried to be simple but i wanted to tell you that I loved your art and everything just spiraled AAAAAAH

thank you! ❤️❤️❤️ I've been surprised by how many people really like my posters -- it's kind of a weird style to do fanart in, I guess, but I'm glad other people think it's cool too! :D

(gonna answer out of order because the event stuff turned into a huge block of text, sorry!)

I've seen a few of the localizations, but I don't know a lot about the Eng version, so I can't speak too much about differences. (I do think "housewarden" has a better sound to it than "dorm leader" though...they need a fancy little word to match their fancy little outfits.) I did look up the unique magic/signature spells to see if they were able to somehow work in the glossing -- I'm not even sure how you would localize that without it being super weird, so I don't blame them, but I was a little sad anyway! :( in Japanese, they're all written as Japanese phrases with the English as ruby text, and sometimes they're given a little extra meaning. like -- this is where the episode 7 spoilers I'm tagging are) the words that Mal says are "Fae of Maleficence":

but the meaning of the Japanese is "Blessing", which is a nice little "ooooh" moment given the context of it!

there isn't always an extra meaning, sometimes it's just. super literal. but my other favorite is Jack's, where what he means is "✨howl that pierces the moonlit night✨", but what he actually yells is "UNLEASH BEAST" before turning into a giant dog. what a good boy.

as for event advice (under the cut, because this was already getting long)...

speaking as someone who is 100% F2P and therefore also tends to get kind of burnt by some of these events -- the #1 most important thing is to just...make peace with not getting everyone. :') I am a collector-type person, so it definitely gets grating when I can't have all the fancy PNGs my little packrat heart desires. generally though: never do random pulls, always be saving your keys and gems between events. (once a month you can buy a 10-set from Sam for a 50 gem discount, and logging in on a character's birthday will give you a 10-set for free, so make sure to do those!). when the event info starts coming out, pick one or two cards that you really want and work specifically towards those, focusing on grinding out the items and/or using your saved-up pulls on their specific banner. and in the end, accept that it might just not be meant to be, even if you hit the 100-pull pity SSR no I'm not still bitter over fairy gala Ortho why do you ask. if the event doesn't have any cards that you really want, take it as an opportunity to save for the next one!

hoard your star fragments (the things that restore AP) -- if you're going for a card that requires grinding event items to permanently unlock, and the item is one you get from lessons, you can use star fragments to bump your AP up to 30 at a time (10 is the limit that will restore over time, but 30 is the max you can have at once). that makes for a looong lesson loop, but I usually get about 50-60 items per 30 lessons, and I just let it run in the background while doing other stuff. (usually these items are what also unlock the event story, so I'll do a huge amount of lessons first thing and then have enough to get the whole story at once. ��) it can get really grindy, but events go on for a while so it's not usually that bad if you space it out a bit, instead of waiting until the last minute to try and get those last 600 items (cough) (cough).

if it's one of the ones where you get the item from doing a rhythmic, you get the same amount of items no matter how well you do, even if you miss every note. so you can just...tap occasionally to restart it and get the same effect. if it's a battle one, you do have to actually win to get the item, but once you figure out the sweet spot of a team setup + highest battle level where you win every time, it becomes basically the same deal.

so...yeah, tl;dr you can get away with a lot just by setting things up to run in the background and paying just enough attention to tap through some of the menus. it does require a certain amount of time to just leave your phone while still sorta-kinda paying attention to it, so it might not work for everyone, but that's the best way I've found to get through most events!