#I’ve seen people lose their fucking lives for way less

[explanationpoint]

…

[anonymous-dentist]

I’ve seen a lot of people genuinely and sincerely wondering why the Federation can’t heal Empanada back up to two lives using the Egg Hospital, and that just means that the Federation Propaganda is working.

So let me explain how the Eggs work within the lore of the QSMP:

The Eggs, in the beginning, were supposed to be a one or two week event. The parents with the happiest egg would get a prize. The parents with dead eggs would be punished.

Within Lore, these original eggs- Dapper, Leo, Chayanne, Ramon, Tilin, Flippa, Bobby, and Trump(et)- were the children of a “dragon mother” who had flown away from the island after the islanders blew up the wall. Tallulah was a later addition, but she is “biologically” (we’ll come back to the quotation marks in a second) related to the og eggs. So is Pomme, who had been stuck under the adoption center for over a month waiting to be adopted. Our outliers are Richarlyson- who wasn’t even supposed to exist yet, Sunny, Empanada, and Pepito.

And then there are the other Eggs. The dead ones. Like “Hope”, the egg the Federation left to die in the middle of nowhere waiting to be adopted. Or Egg A1, the egg ElQuackity was experimenting on that burned to death. Or the several dead eggs mentioned in the Maze Book, the ones who would be Sunny and Empanada and Pepito’s siblings if those three really are the three surviving eggs from the Maze Book.

You see, the Eggs aren’t real. They’re artificial. We’ve known this since May/June when SOFIA analyzed “Richarlyson’s placenta” (don’t ask) and found, wow! The Eggs are essentially artificial, inorganic lifeforms. And then we see ElQ experimenting on A1, and then we hear about the Maze Experiment, and then we find out about Egg Island and how the Federation technically owns it, and we realize, oh. Huh.

The Eggs have never met their supposed dragon mother. That’s because she doesn’t exist. The Eggs were created solely for the purpose of the experiment the islanders are unwillingly part of. They’re tools, and the Federation doesn’t care about them.

The Eggs, to the Federation, are more or less expendable. The Feds’ primary focus is the islanders and keeping them under control. The Eggs still being alive now is only because the Feds quickly realized that their test subjects would fucking lose it if the Eggs were taken away like they were supposed to have been.

But if the Eggs happen to die on their own, so be it. That’s fine. They’re kids, they’re fragile.

Tilin and Flippa and Trump and Bobby are all dead, and it’s been shown that the Feds could have brought them back permanently by putting them in the hospital they canonically have, or by bringing them back “by magic” like how Sapo Peta revived Flippa after the trial. This is why Cellbit infiltrated the Feds in the first place and it’s a HUGE part of why he hates them now! He knows that they could keep every egg safe and alive, but they choose not to because, again, the eggs are expendable!

If the Federation had their way, the Eggs wouldn’t have been retrieved at all when they disappeared. But the islanders started going berserk and rebelling and the Feds went “Oh, shit”, and thus the Eggs’ return was made a priority.

The Eggs are a form of control, and everybody even remotely questioning the Federation knows it. Keeping the Eggs around and alive serves to keep the islanders in line. If they rebel, the Eggs could die. This is why the Eggs were brought back in the first place, and it’s why the parents of dead eggs and those without eggs in the first place were the ones assigned to Sunny, Empanada, and Pepito. Those people couldn’t be controlled, but now they can be. People like Tubbo won’t mess with Cucurucho anymore because they don’t want their kids dead; it’s why Cellbit only started lashing out after Richarlyson had been gone for almost two months.

So… why don’t they just keep the Eggs alive?

Easy. Because the Eggs are expendable. Them living is the easiest option, but them dying isn’t really a huge issue. People like Jaiden have been easy enough to manipulate after losing their egg. Grieving parents so far haven’t had huge explosive reactions (except for Maxo, who very notably did have a huge explosive reaction.) Slime and Mariana fell into depressive states, Jaiden became easier to manipulate, Quackity was able to be kidnapped and brainwashed. Roier and Maxo kept their illegal rebellious activities under wraps, and neither really made any big huge moves against the Feds (again, outside of the nuke.)

If the Eggs die naturally, it’s fine. It’s the parents’ faults for letting their child die- just look at how nobody blamed the Federation for permanently taking Bobby away, but people both on the server and off blamed Roier for “getting him killed”, or how Mariana is the scapegoat for the Federation not bringing Flippa back to life when they easily could’ve done so.

Eggs dying naturally turns islander aggression inwards… with the exceptions of Cellbit, Roier, and Maxo, and now Bagi and Mousey. The Feds don’t want anyone getting angry at them, they want the islanders to get angry at themselves. That way, nobody can organize against them.

So the Feds won’t reverse a life lost. They won’t revive a dead egg. They don’t need to. The Eggs aren’t the experiment here. They aren’t important.

[sparrowsoupp]

some of the most iconic queer poster children of the warrior cats fandom. happy pride to the girls gays and theys (particularly those who enjoy brawling feline content)

dabble in my headcannons for these pairings under the read-more button if i’ve piqued your interest…

RAVEN x BARLEY (gay x gay)

i know there’s been a bit of controversy going around about these two and how they could be seen as toxic, with barley being insecure over ravenpaw’s connection to thunderclan. i get that perspective for sure, but i think it’s representative of REASONABLE flaws in a real relationship. obviously it’s not ideal that they never completely resolve it (since it’s ‘solved’ in the graphic novel but reopened in ravenpaw’s novella) and i wished that they addressed that more concretely (i say about a fucking middle grade book about talking cats LOL) but even more so i think you could see it as a realistic relationship as with issues in those, they often subdue and reoccur at intervals. it’s just about talking it out with your partner 🦭👍 plus if the majority of their relationship outside of this is good (which i definitely see it as, since obviously the books have to take place at points of conflict for there to be interesting things to write about) then it seems to be a somewhat small flaw.

that being said i haven’t actually read the books this comes up in so take my opinion with grains of salt, just online discourse about it. totally get if your life experience makes you see their interactions another way as this is just my two cents based on my experience with people.

overall i’m not a superfan of the sickly-sweet reputation these two get but i do like them for what i see them as, which is a Normal Relationship with Some Flaws. i like that they find solace in each other in a peaceful place after fleeing their less peaceful pasts. it’s a great dynamic (and i’m a sucker for farms) and i think they compliment each other’s personalities really well, with barley bringing ravenpaw out of the shell he’s been forced into and ravenpaw inspiring more cautiousness in a very brash barley who would otherwise probably jump into fights at the drop of a hat.

on a somewhat unrelated note, as a kid did anyone else wish that ravenpaw dropped his paw suffix? or blue/firestar granted him an honourary suffix for everything the poor kid went through? this isn’t like a super big meanigful thing but it just annoyed me when i was younger that the paw suffix kind of belittles him to apprentice level when after the fuckery the poor kid went through i think he deserves more recognition from the clans than that.

BLUESTAR x YELLOWFANG (bi x bi)

OKAYYY old women! while fanart of the two of them being in a loving happy relationship is very cute i like to take my old woman yuri one-sided and traumatic.

i think that yellowfang would have an unrequited crush on bluestar. what’s there not to like?! at the point when they meet bluestar is a compassionate but commanding cat in the prime of her leadership. after a bit of her being in the camp i think bluestar would also start spending a curious amount of time in the medicine den… unconciously she definitely saw the appeal in yellowfang from the getgo- it definitely strengthens the reasoning of her surprising decision to defend yellowfang as a member of thunderclan depsite risking a full on war with other clans from it, and her other clanmates lives in the process. obviously bluestar’s a leader that wouldn’t base a decision like that just based on a crush, and it was definitely because of what she wants her clan to stand for, but it’s Not a downside that the cute lady she used to see at gatherings gets to stay a while

bluestar’s definitely not letting it occupy her mind though, of course, totally not (the lady has Trauma from her relationship with oakheart and i see her as having an attatchment issue where she doesn’t feel like she deserves to have a healthy relationship, especially after losing mosskit. she’s just not fully ready yet). yellowfang pines as she watches bluestar throw herself fully into her work to distract herself from the growing feelings, and at some point probably grows annoyed with the cat-and-mouse and starts dedicating herself fully to her own work as a medicine cat too. there are moments of sweetness and clarity and words on the tips of tongues, but just as unexpectedly as they come bluestar will turn her head back to her duties.

unfortunately once tigerstar’s betrayal happens all cute flirting comes to a screeching halt as bluestar is consumed by the paranoia. on the good days she’ll hold stilted conversation with her clanmates, but not so much on the bad days. yellowfang hurts as she watches her crush sprial into madness and dysfunction, the likes of which is only heightened when the fire happens and yellowfang passes- completely insetting bluestar’s hatred for starclan for taking her love (who she still does have deeply-buried feelings for) away from her.

overall, can you tell i love inflicting mental anguish on bluestar? it’s my favourite hobby. i’m not even joking.

LEAFPOOL x MOTHWING (bi x lesbian)

okay this one might make you realise i love doomed yuri. Anyways,

put simply, i think leafpool and mothwing find each other attractive and secretly hook up on a frequent basis for some…. Funny Business. Hanky-Panky, if you will. ‘no-strings-attached’ yeah right i don’t think sapphics have ever pulled off a no strings attatched relationship without casualities.

mothwing definitely wants to confess but leafpool by that point has been forcing herself to move on and ends up telling mothwing about ‘liking’ crowfeather right before mothwing works up the courage (reading leafpool x crowfeather for the first time in the canon books geniunely felt like someone’s ao3 crackship. i guess that’s what traumabinding will do to two mfs). or maybe mothwing notices that leafpool is pregnant (which HOW THE HELL DID NOONE NOTICE IN CANON) and backs the hell off from that. maybe a very angsty argument over that… delicious.

how very ‘good luck babe’ by chappell roan of them! i think things end pretty awkwardly for mothpool and neither leafpool nor crowfeather are really in love with each other they’re just something shiny and distracting from each of their respective circuses of personal lives. i literally hear the clown music playing as they run away together. maybe it’s tinnitus.

they probably pine for each other forever and ever after that, neither falling in love again because they never get over each other. damn. how awkward is it to see your kind-of-ex at the moonpool every month…

anyway thanks for reading though beau’s cat rambles! if youve stuck it out to here… a tip of the hat to you

[onehelluvafan]

Will Stolas lose his immortality?

I’ve seen several mentions of Mission: Weeaboo-boo being a parallel to Blitz’s first encounter with Stolas (as an adult), which I can totally get behind. Right out the gate we have the “you were here to ravish me” similarity as well as Blitz “sneaking in, under the cover of night.”

I've also seen the hypothesis that Emberlynn's fan fiction includes an element of foreshadowing for what’s going to happen in the climax of Season 2.

Her episode is also the only one of the shorts with that "ticking" sound during the content warning, which lends further credence to the idea that it is tied in with the main plot somehow, even if merely thematically.

This got me pondering the possible parallels related to Emberlynn's functional immortality against demonkind and her decision to give it up in order to "be with Blitz."

Which now has me wondering—is Stolas going to have to give up his immortality to be with Blitz? Or lose it due to the illegal arrangement they've had going on?

Or, leaning into the idea that her episode is merely a reflection of how Blitz views his relationship with Stolas, could it simply be a parallel to the fact that Stolas has already been in mortal danger as a result of choosing to be with Blitz? And that Blitz feels responsible for Stolas' “undoing?”

We’re shown in Ghostfuckers that one of Blitz’s fears is that Millie could have died during any of the missions from episodes 1-4 of season one. Couple that with the fact that he believes that he “makes everyone’s lives worse,” it’s reasonable to assume that he not only fears, but feels responsible for her life being in mortal danger during their missions.

Whether he cared more about Stolas or the arrangement when he stopped the first assassination attempt, Striker was without the angelic weapon when he fled, which Moxxie had expressed complete shock in Striker's ability to have in the first place.

I think that Blitz allowed his cognitive dissonance to convince himself that Striker was no longer a threat without this weapon. Because deep down, he may have been afraid that telling Stolas about the assassination attempt might not be a neutral event for him. That he didn’t even want to contemplate the idea that he might actually care beyond the loss of their "arrangement."

In the very next episode, Truth Seekers, we see these feelings forced to the surface during his drug-induced hallucination—with Stolas at the top of a long flight of stairs, saying, “Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?”

With the knowledge that he’s afraid that he makes “everyone’s lives worse,” it adds layers to many Stolitz scenes that follow throughout the series. Data points that someone like Blitz could easily see as evidence of that very fear. “Proof” that he’s responsible for Stolas’ life “falling apart.”

- He knew that Stolas was married as evidenced by his “Sorry, I fucked your husband” after their first night together. Stolas was clearly not only consenting to sex with Blitz, but was expressing a joyous desperation for it. Despite this, it was actually the “first ever friend” comment that caused Blitz to hesitate and return to Stolas, which we now know was a soft spot for him due to his experience with Fizz. But it was Blitz’s choice to stay or go, and staying is what kicked off the arrangement, is the reason for the sexual nature of its terms, and caused a domino effect that impacted Stolas’ entire life, including his family.

- When the two of them were being roasted at Ozzie’s, it wasn’t Stolas’ perspective that was showcased for Blitz, but Ozzie and Wally Wackford’s. Not only does the narrative begin early with Wally’s “Are you sleeping with an imp?!” but it’s followed up by Ozzie’s “My dark lord, how the mighty do fall,” and continues with Stolas being called out for “giving up” his wife and daughter specifically for his choice to be with Blitz. And the way that the narrative plays out, it almost sounds like his downfall was less for cheating than it was for sleeping with an imp.

Either way, seeing Stolas hide his face behind the menu likely “confirmed” multiple things for Blitz. That despite Stolas’ “public” flirting in front of other imps, when confronted by someone actually associated with Stolas’ upper class society, Blitz was reduced to being an embarrassment for Stolas.

Believing that, left no room for even a glimmer of hope that they could be anything more than what they already were: a prince who enjoyed “sleeping with an imp” and was apparently paying a pretty steep price for it.

- Then there’s Octavia. In Loo Loo Land, Stolas takes her to the theme park but spends most of his time flirting with Blitz. Not only does she comment on this in front of Blitz, but he’s there to witness when she’s finally had enough and storms off, mad at her father. In Seeing Stars, Octavia came to I.M.P., stole the grimoire, and disappeared with it. Why? Because her father was so wrapped up in the divorce, that she felt angry and neglected.

- In Full Moon, his fight with Stolas took them through part of the palace. This is very likely the first time he’s seen it since he was apprehended at the “Not Divorced” party, and what has it become? When he came back into Stolas’ life, it was bright, vibrant, and full of people. That night in Full Moon, it was dark, muted, and the only person visible in his photos were of Via.

While Blitz may have inferred at the time that Stolas’ marriage wasn’t in a good place, he doesn’t know just how miserable Stolas was in the life he had before. From Blitz’s perspective, he may have appeared fairly content overall when they first reconnected.

Compare that to Apology Tour, which Blitz sees as the natural outcome of what people experience when they are around him long enough.

Data point after data point, to feed into the idea that Stolas’ life has been “ruined,” just by Blitz being in it. His marriage ended, his relationship with his daughter was negatively impacted, and by Ghostfuckers, someone had tried to kill him twice.

I don't think Blitz is aware that Stella is the one who has been putting out the hits, but I could see him internalizing the idea that if Stolas had died during the second attempt, it would have been his fault. Because not only had he chosen not to warn Stolas that someone was trying to assassinate him, he was also the person that Stolas had reached out to for help and he had let M&M go in his stead.

It is after this attempt on Stolas’ life that we see Blitz absolutely shook by the idea that Stolas not only could be hurt, but that he was hurt and had almost died.

This is also several months after the night at Ozzie’s, when he had first begun to realize that, painful as it was, he may care for Stolas after all. Months during which they hadn’t seen each other and he had time to actually miss their time together.

Between that and finding out that he can actually get hurt, I can see Stolas becoming one of the people that Blitz feels the desire to protect. Unfortunately, this also seems to come with the anxiety of being responsible for what he perceives as the “collateral damage” of being associated with him.

Finally, in Truth Seekers, where the "ticking" began, Stolas had exposed himself via "real" demonic power to the D.H.O.R.K.S. and by extension, the living world. But the only reason he was there and got himself caught on camera is because he came to rescue Blitz.

This could be linked to the scene where we see Blitz attempting to protect and defend Stolas against someone. My bet is on Paimon, who, while ranking below the 7 Sins in power, is still depicted as a fairly powerful being. Stolas had not only exposed their existence to the living world, but had showcased his power in his attempt to scare the agents into submission. We know there’s going to be consequences for that, as well as for the divorce, and I expect Paimon will have a part to play, one way or another.

Stolas mentioned in Seeing Stars that without the grimoire, his powers are rather limited. I assumed that the worst outcome for him at the end of Season 2 was being stripped of his status and grimoire, which would vastly reduce his raw power as well as the power his position in society affords him.

Obviously, the actual worst-case scenario would be the loss of his life, which it's assumed Blitz is trying to protect him from in the snippet from the trailer. But it didn't occur to me until now that even with my own certainty that he'll survive the Season 2 climax, there was a third possible outcome... that along with his power and status, Stolas could also be stripped of his immortality.

[prime-adeptus]

BAD IDEA (FORGET ABOUT IT, FORGET ABOUT ME) – QUANXI X READER

It’s a bad idea. You know it is. Even fucking worse now that you realise that you’re no longer doing this for sexual pleasure. You’re doing it for her affection, even if it only comes with her hand around your throat or between your thighs. Or, the one where you’re not lovers, just strangers, and you’re fine with it. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

CONTENT.⠀NSFW; female reader; friends with benefits, unrequited pining, angst, slight power imbalance (quanxi is mc’s superior), alcohol, mentions of medication, unhealthy relationships, hurt/no comfort, original character deaths, mentions of blood. Canon divergent, but takes place after the events of Part 1. ~6.5k words

NOTES.⠀my first fic of 2024 lets gooo baby HAPPY NEW YURI!!!! this is my contribution to my thank u, next collab :) likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! this is the most self-indulgent I’ve ever written but I hope you enjoy regardless;;

also on ao3 | @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @enchantedforest-network @ghostqueue

You never think twice.

It runs in the family, you think. Your father was an insanely reckless devil hunter, your mother was impulsive even in the worst situations, and your brother did things just for the thrill. It’s ironic that for people with a job that relies on survival instinct, they had none at all. Impulsivity runs in your family, and there will soon come a day when it will get you killed the same way it did with them. That’s fine. Death doesn’t scare you, not anymore. He’ll come bearing his scythe when his time comes, taking your soul to where it needs to be, and you’ll let it happen when it does.

Public Safety wasn’t your first option. Being a professional devil hunter wasn’t, either. You wanted to pursue something less violent, like someone who could help improve a community’s welfare. You wanted kids to grow up better than you did. But with devils roaming the streets and the lack of the ‘strong-hearted,’ it came as no surprise that you had to give up on what you’d initially hoped. You’re still pissed about it years later in your career. The younger you wanted to help the world.

In a way, you got what you wanted. It just wasn’t the way you wanted it to happen.

You think you’re more familiar with firearms and blades than you are with flowers and crayons now. Your hands, once soft and delicate, are now scarred and calloused, stained with the blood of those you had to slay and lose in combat. Your heart, once full of hope and kindness, is now cold as ice. The innocence and joy you used to have were cruelly ripped out of your hands and crushed into pieces you can never put together again.

But you don’t have time to miss who you used to be, nor do you have the time to dream anymore. You have to survive in a world where danger lurks in every corner. You will pass the days instead of living them, letting them hurt you and bury misery deep in your bones, but you will survive, if not by sheer determination or instinct.

The drink you’re having burns your throat. Though you weren’t previously a drinker, having seen how it changed people like it did to your father, there’s nothing else you can turn to. You never liked bars either, yet here you are, sitting all by your lonesome. People change, whether it’s out of their volition or against their will. You don’t know where you fall between those categories.

The longer you stare into space, the more you tune out the world around you. You feel as though you aren’t here, but somewhere else. It’s been happening more often than you’d like—zoning out, feeling like you’re not in control of your body, vulnerable. You’re more annoyed by it than you are concerned. You’re a professional devil hunter, bound to an organisation that could dispose of you without a second thought if you fail them. There is no time for weakness. Your training and years of work have taught you that the hard way.

By the time you come back to your senses, your glass is already empty. A frown tugs at the corners of your lips. You’ve half a mind to order another shot to feel something other than perpetual numbness and exhaustion, but ultimately decide against it. Your tolerance isn’t as high as Kishibe’s is, after all. Who knows what will happen if you bite off more than you can chew? You don’t, and more importantly, you don’t want to deal with the consequences.

With a sigh, you leave the bar. The bells above the door chime as the door opens and exposes you to the winter air. A chill runs down your spine, making you shiver involuntarily. You’ve never been fond of the cold. It’s miserable, it makes you lethargic, and it’s a pain to get through without getting sick. You hate the shitty apartment you live in and the equally shitty radiator that came with it too, but this time around, you actually can’t wait to be home. You suppose there are still some things to look forward to, no matter how mundane they may be.

“Hm. Didn’t expect to see anyone out at this hour.”

You turn to see Quanxi leaning against a wall with a cigarette between her lips and the same deadpan expression you’re used to seeing her wear. Instinctively, you bow your head in greeting, though she makes no move to respond to it. Briefly you realise how you’ve never had a proper conversation with her, only good mornings here and there whenever you happen to cross paths. This is the first time she’s properly acknowledged you as something else other than one of Kishibe’s many juniors he ‘babysits,’ as he would say.

The wind blows the nicotine in your direction, causing you to grimace instinctively. In an attempt to cover it, you clear your throat and reply, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I thought you didn’t like being out at night.”

“I don’t,” you say with a wry smile. “Why are you out at this hour, Miss Quanxi?”

“I couldn’t sleep either.” With a sigh, she pushes herself off the wall and finds her place by your side. “I’ll walk you home. I’m going in the same direction anyway.”

You have a feeling she’s not going to take no for an answer, so all you do is nod and go along with her. It puts you on edge, being so close to someone you’ve always held in high regard. It’s also strange, in a good way, to be alone with a woman like her. Up until a few moments ago, you didn’t even know she was aware of you at all. You find that you like having her beside you like this. It makes you feel safe, protected, and in a way you can’t pinpoint why, like you belong.

The apartment building looms overhead and stands among electrical lines and small stores. The lightbulb in front of the elevator flickers before it goes out, leaving the hallway too dim for your liking. Anxiety starts to bubble at the pit of your stomach. You don’t know if it’s because of the dark or if it’s because of how close she’s standing to you. As your finger hovers over the button, you glance at her and blurt out, “Would you like to come in?”

She blinks as if she wasn’t expecting you to say that. She probably wasn’t. Heat rises to your cheeks and paints them with shame. You tend to speak before you think, which has both worked in your favour and against it.

(You never learn.)

“It’s cold outside,” you try to reason. “You could come in for tea, warm up for a bit before you go. I’d feel bad if I let you leave without anything.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

Your face burns. You should’ve thought she’d say no. You should’ve thought more. Of course, the Quanxi has no reason to stay and chat with you. She’s not the kind of person to do such a thing. She’s stoic, unapproachable, and–

“But if you insist, I’ll come in,” she says, interrupting you just before your brain is about to go into overdrive. “I could use a break anyway.”

She follows you into the cramped elevator without another word. It’s hard to keep your cool as you’re all too slowly taken up the building. With trembling hands, you unlock the door to your apartment. Your nerves are going haywire for reasons you can’t begin to fathom. You ignore them the best you can.

“Tea? Coffee?” you ask. You like to think you’re pretty good at keeping your composure, but you’re not so confident tonight. It’s fine. You’re being considerate, nothing more, so there’s no need to be so nervous. You’re just being a good host.

“Tea is fine.”

“Alright. Um, have a seat. I’ll be done in a minute.”

She takes off her shoes at the doorway before stepping into the living area, glancing around wordlessly. You hope she doesn’t mind the mess on the coffee table, even if it’s only receipts, newspapers and some blister packs you keep forgetting to throw out. Normal, mundane things. You haven’t had the time or drive to organise your place lately. You wish you did. For anything in general, really.

You’re surprised how stable your hands are this time around as you carry the tray towards where she’s sitting on the couch. She takes the mug with a barely audible thanks and you take your own. The couch isn’t small by any means. It’s old, yes, but it’s more than enough to seat two people. For some reason, it feels like it’s smaller. You’re close enough that your knees brush against each other. You try not to think about how this is the closest you’ve ever physically been to someone in years.

You almost want to scoff at that. It’s never occurred to you (or rather, you prefer not to think about it) how deprived you are of warmth and contact. Every day consists of you passively following a monotonous routine. People like you don’t get the chance to be close to someone, physically and emotionally, not when they can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. You should be used to it by now.

You don’t think you can ever be.

“Is it okay?” Your voice is soft, hesitant. “It’s not too sweet?”

“It’s fine.”

You don’t know if Quanxi is one for small talk. You highly doubt it, but still, you find yourself chattering away. You talk about almost forgetting your keys in the morning, about how friendly your neighbours are despite their intimidating appearance, about the dog that greets you every morning and every time you come back.

Self-consciousness suddenly threatens to consume you whole when you catch how much you’ve been rambling in your flustered state. You can’t tell if she’s actually listening or if she’s only humming and nodding along so you’d stop eventually. Maybe you should.

The sudden silence makes her look at you curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I, ah, nothing.” You shake your head. “I forgot what I was going to say.”

“You were talking about your last mission,” she offers. You’re almost disappointed that she had been listening to you. “The bodyguard one.”

You didn’t expect that.

“Right… I’m sorry, Miss Quanxi. I didn’t realise how long I’ve been keeping you here. Would you like me to see you out?”

“I don’t mind. You sound interesting.” She places the cup down and leans back against the cushions, getting herself comfortable. You aren’t sure if you should take it as a compliment or something. “And Quanxi is fine. I’m not Kishibe.”

“Of course! I’m sorry, Miss—I mean, Quanxi.”

Names have always been important to you; hers isn’t any different. But as her name rolls off your tongue, you find that you like how it feels. Familiar, like you’ve been saying it for years. In the back of your mind, you wonder if she knows your name—she hasn’t uttered it once since she spotted you outside the bar.

Somehow, that makes you sadder than you should be.

“You live alone?” she asks. Your mind goes blank for a moment. Is she interested in you? No, that can’t be. She’s just making conversation. She probably pities you for the fact that you’re the only one doing the talking.

“I do. Have been since I was seventeen,” you say, cutting off your train of thought before it gets worse. “I don’t have a girlfriend either.”

You don’t realise what you’ve blurted out until Quanxi hums curiously.

Why did you say that? Why do you say anything?

“You don’t?”

“No,” you mumble. You avert your gaze to the side, nervousness taking hold of you once more. “Are you… Interested? In me?”

When you finally look back at her, her face is only inches away from yours. You stare at her wide-eyed. A myriad of emotions swirls deep in your chest as you stutter and stammer, your lips parting then closing like a fish out of water.

“Maybe,” she answers, and the apology you were going to say dies on your tongue.

Your heart is threatening to burst out of your chest with how fast it thumps in the confines of your ribcage. Despite the winter outside, it feels hot—you feel hot, like you’re standing by a burning flame. You think you’ve short-circuited when she gently tilts your head up with her fingers and leans in to kiss you with a softness usually reserved for a lover.

And because you never think twice, you don’t hesitate to comply when she urges you to sit on her lap. Your arms wrap around her neck and it doesn’t take long before the kiss turns more heated, before you start grinding against her. Cold digits trail across your skin and crawl between your thighs, smoothly unbuttoning your trousers to reveal what they’re searching for.

Hesitantly, you pull away to catch your breath. You can hardly understand what’s happening, and maybe you don’t have to, but there’s a deep longing to hear it directly from her.

“Miss Quanxi!” Whatever you’re trying to say gets interrupted with a gasp as her fingers dip past the waistband of your panties. “What are you—”

“Helping you relax,” she replies nonchalantly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how tense you’ve been since we got here.”

You’re not sure you can handle seeing how attentively she’s watching your expressions right now, so you squeeze your eyes shut. It doesn’t help, not when you can feel everything at once, from her heated expression to her sinfully adept fingers.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind telling you that this is wrong, unfair, but when she brushes over a spot that has you shivering against her hand, the thought ebbs away like it was never there at all.

You don’t want her to stop.

Maybe the strange heavy feeling within your chest is just anxiety from not being in a situation like this for a long time. Maybe it’s what your classmates used to call ‘butterflies in your stomach’ because you’re with someone you admire. Reason slips out of your reach with every curl of her fingers against your walls, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you’re reaching the edge. The sight of her doing something to you that only lovers do to each other isn’t helping your case, either.

Her name leaves your lips in a pathetic whine. “Quanxi—”

“Let go,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your cheek, “Let me take care of you.”

Your orgasm washes over you like the sea crashes against the shore, rendering you breathless and teary-eyed from how overwhelming everything feels. She doesn’t relent until you weakly wrap your hand around her wrist in a poor attempt to stop her from breaking you any further. She eventually pulls her hand away and brings her fingers up to your mouth, imperceptibly smiling at how you take them in without question. Seemingly satisfied, she withdraws and lets you slump against her body, tuckered out and boneless.

“Look at you,” she coos, her voice dripping with endearment. She’s probably used to saying these things and getting these reactions, and as bitter as you may feel about it, they have your heart racing nonetheless. You’re not used to praise. In your entire life, you’ve only been satisfactory, yet here she is praising you for doing nothing except surrender yourself to her. You part your lips to speak, only to be interrupted.

“Don’t worry about me.”

It’s almost worrisome how she can tell what’s on your mind so effortlessly. With a huff, you bury your face in the crook of her shoulder. You doubt you can look her in the eye without saying or doing something embarrassing.

“But…” you mumble out.

“I can take care of myself.”

You frown, though you don’t argue with the finality in her tone. Your body gradually relaxes as she runs her fingers up and down the length of your spine. It’s getting difficult to stay awake when you feel so sated, so safe. Eventually, without realising it, your blinking slows down and you start to drift off in her arms, growing blissfully unaware of the world around you.

—

You wake up in your bed dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

Quanxi must’ve carried you here before she left. Your vision slowly adjusts to the change in lighting as you look out the window by your side. It seems that people have already gotten their day started, judging from the cars moving down the road and the dogs barking in response to the disturbance they bring. You’re groggy and your thoughts are unclear, leaving you more wearied than you’d normally be. A dull ache rings in your head, growing stronger when you push yourself out of bed and trudge to the bathroom to freshen up.

Your mind feels like it’s shrouded with fog. You’re beginning to think going to the bar yesterday was a mistake. You tend not to dwell too much on the consequences of what you do, only what satisfies you in that moment. It’s a bad habit you can’t seem to get rid of. But it’s far too early to think—in fact, you’d rather not do it at all—so you clumsily grab the shower valve and let the water wash away yesterday’s events. It takes a couple of tries to find it, but you make it nonetheless. A curse escapes you at the unexpected cold that has you jolting awake against your will. You suppose you did need that rude awakening.

The word ‘mistake’ seems to echo in your mind louder and louder as you struggle to properly button up your shirt with sluggish hands. You’re pretty sure one of your socks is mismatched, but you don’t really have the energy to change them. You glance at the bottle of painkillers in your cabinet. You never quite liked taking these things even if they’re supposed to help you. You didn’t like having ‘too much’ in your system. A bit ironic, considering all the supplements and medication you’ve had in your lifetime.

Bitterly, you take them. You can’t have something so inane affect your efficiency at work.

The headquarters is already busy when you arrive. Camaraderie isn’t a thing here, so the atmosphere already feels stiff and awkward. You suppose it’s reasonable, having gone through a few losses yourself. In a world like this, you simply can’t get attached to anyone. You shouldn’t. After all, they can be ripped out of your hands, ripped apart until the only proof of their existence is their blood stained on your skin. It’s not ‘hating the world’ or ‘being unapproachable;’ it’s a way to protect the other person. In a way, it protects you too.

Your mind reels back to last night now that you’re more awake. The way she held you. The way she just knew your body like the back of her hand. The way she kissed you. Only lovers touch each other like that, your mother used to tell you, but you’re not lovers even if it felt like it. The intimate moments you shared threaten to bring tears to your eyes as they play through your mind again like a film reel. The memory of her lips against your skin, of her holding you as if you were made of porcelain. They’re likely nothing to her, but they’re everything to you.

So how are you meant to brush off something like that so easily? When you’ve never had or let anyone touch you in such a way? What is it about her that had you caving in without a second thought? What is it about her that has your emotions going into overdrive?

The coffee nearly burns your tongue and leaves behind a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. And sure, maybe the coffee wasn’t a good idea either, but what does it matter? All you have to do is work, hopefully stay alive, and come back to a boring life after a long day of saving the city. What happened last night was only a one-time thing. There’s no reason to mull over it again.

You unceremoniously toss the paper cup into the trash. Coffee was not a good idea.

The day, although surprisingly uneventful, is spent writing reports and being in the worst mood you’ve ever been in. Thankfully you didn’t need to talk to anyone, save for Kishibe who dropped by earlier to see if you were still alive.’ It was oddly kind of him to do. You’re more used to him being distant or plain merciless like he was to the chainsaw boy and the blood fiend. It’s nice to have someone look for you, think of you, even if it’s for such a grim reason.

You were tidying up for the day when your coworker approached you with a smile on her face. ‘Do you wanna come get drinks with us?’ she had asked. Seeing as you didn’t have plans for the rest of the evening—you never do—you agreed. A couple of drinks won’t hurt.

It’s not that difficult to spot your colleagues and seniors in the izakaya. It’s hard to miss them, actually, when one of them is excitedly calling your name and waving you over. They’re already drunk. You understand them, you think. You generally dislike feeling inebriated and what comes after, but with the current path you’re on, it’s the only source of comfort you have.

You grimace. You really have become your father.

The table is cluttered with beer cans and unfinished plates of snacks. Kishibe sits silently in the corner. He’s opted to bring his own drink this time around and barely acknowledges you with a glance. There are a couple other seniors you don’t recognise. With a bow that feels more perfunctory than it does respectful, you greet them and quietly slide into the booth.

Quanxi sits across from you, calm and collected like always. She doesn’t say hello to you with the same enthusiasm that her colleagues had, though she does nod and subtly raise her glass at you. Flustered, you blink, you purse your lips, and then finally you get it together and smile at her, the same way one would when seeing an old friend. Sure, that isn’t what she is, she’s just your senior, but you’d rather stay on her good side. You’ve seen how she dealt with that Hirofumi boy when they both came back last year. As attractive as you found it, you also don’t want to end up being someone she regards coldly.

You shake your head. Why are you worrying so much about what she’d think of you? All she did was acknowledge your presence. Luckily, one of your colleagues (someone you recognise, thank god) notices you and starts to ask all about your day. It’s enough to keep you busy. It’s also surprising you aren’t drained yet, considering how much more talkative they are compared to you.

“This is why I’m trying to help you out of your shell!” they playfully chide once you trail off, feeling self-conscious. “We want to get to know you better! Don’t be shy. Come on, tell me. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been—”

Whatever phrase you were thinking of immediately goes forgotten when you feel someone’s foot brush against your ankle. You’re nearly seized with panic before you make eye contact with Quanxi and realise that it’s her doing. Somehow, it doesn’t do much to calm your racing heart. She seems so nonchalant, casually smoking her cigarette as if she isn’t threatening to make a mess of you with something so simple.

They furrow their eyebrows in concern. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Sorry,” you reply sheepishly. “I’ve been… well, busy. There’s a lot of backlog I still need to catch up on.”

Quanxi doesn’t do much after that, something you’re thankful for. Perhaps she took pity on you. Tearing your gaze away from her, you turn back to your colleague with a strained smile. You hope they won’t notice how you’ve tensed up and how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“W-What about you?”

It’s even more surprising that you can still speak while feeling so tongue-tied. Your conversation partner starts to chatter away, talking about everything and nothing, which you try your best to stay invested in. It makes for quite a good distraction, and Quanxi doesn’t tease you again until your colleagues begin to leave one by one. Until you’re eventually left alone with her.

You bite the inside of your cheek nervously. Her surprising you earlier could’ve been an accident, so nothing is stopping you from going home. You should go home. It’s not like she wants you to stay, right? She’s probably waiting for you to leave so she can do the same thing. You try to think of a polite way to excuse yourself, but nothing comes to mind and the words are stuck in the back of your throat.

“You’re thinking too much.”

You’re sober. Sober enough to be able to function, but not enough to notice that Quanxi has moved to sit next to you with her hand on your thigh. She leans in close to press a kiss to your neck, an invitation. A promise. You watch as her lithe fingers teasingly skim across your inner thigh, dancing dangerously close to your core. Your eyes remain on her hand, how it feels pressed against you, so warm and perfect—

“Not here,” you breathe, “H-Home.”

The night passes by in a blur. Before you know it, she has you on her bed, your cheeks flushed and your clothes torn from your body. Everything feels warmer, stronger, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re tipsy or if it’s because you’re pent up, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t think of anything, not when she keeps taking your breath away time and time again with every roll of her hips. Moans and broken syllables of her name leave your lips, doused in lust and whatever remaining modesty you have left.

Once isn’t enough for her. Your thighs are trembling as she pushes you into the blankets, keeping a tight grip on your shoulder as the sound of her thighs slapping against yours fills the room. The lewd noises leaving your body make your cheeks burn, and you wonder if she can feel how warm they are against her thighs when she finally lets you return the favour with your tongue. You’re sloppy and unpracticed, you know you are, but when she says your name and tells you that you’re so good for her, your heart soars.

Eager to please, you stay for what feels like an hour before she has you on your back and her fingers inside you once again. She doesn’t stop until you’re a teary-eyed, trembling mess beneath her. She doesn’t stop until your voice is hoarse from how loud you’ve been. Sleep comes easy to you that night; once more, you nestle close to her side and drift off, completely spent. The same way you did last night; only this time, she doesn’t hold you.

She’s gone by the time you wake up, and her taste lingers on your tongue as you leave her apartment feeling satiated but hollow.

—

You don’t know when meeting up with Quanxi just to fuck became a regular thing, but it did.

It’s a bad idea. You know it is. Even fucking worse now that you realise that you’re no longer doing this for sexual pleasure. You’re doing it for her affection, even if it only comes with her hand around your throat or between your thighs. You know it’s a bad idea when you always leave her place feeling used. Emotions have never been your strong suit—you’re not made to think, you’re made to do—but the whirlwind and the paradox have set you a few steps back. From what, you don’t know; all you know is that you can’t move on without her, without something more from her.

It bothers you how you both go back to work and act like you don’t know each other. It bothers you how she doesn’t even notice you when you happen to walk by. It bothers you how she feels so distant even though everything you’ve ever done with her has been things only lovers do. It bothers you how much you feel like you need her to satisfy you in more ways than what she’s currently doing. It’s not meant to be something serious. You’ve known that the moment she kissed you.

A distraction is all you are. A vice, like her drinks and her cigarettes and the other women. Something she has readily available to her, and because it’s Quanxi, you let it happen. You think she’s worth the turmoil in your mind. Why wouldn’t she be? She knows your body like the back of her hand, knows what you like, knows what you need. You’ll grin and bear it, accept the love she gives you on sleepless nights, and come whenever she calls.

Work has been busy enough for the past week or two. You were sent on a mission to somewhere in the south, ordered to exterminate a cluster of fiends and granted temporary leave after one of them managed to give you a nearly fatal wound. You don’t think she even knows that you were at the hospital until you had enough blood in your veins to heal again. It’s fine. Of course it is. She’s as busy as you are, if not more, and she has her own things to worry about.

You haven’t seen her in a while. Not at work, not at the bar you frequent. It harrows and relieves you at the same time because you feel her wherever you go. You walk in crowds hoping that she’ll be among them. You stay out hours after the work day ends hoping that you’ll bump into her. You keep your ears open hoping that you’ll hear something about her, or if you’re lucky enough, hear her calling your name. You don’t know how she’s woven her existence into your life this much, nor do you know what you want from her. But it’s not that necessary to put a stop to something you need, is it?

It’s fine if she doesn’t need you for anything else beyond sex. It’s fine that your love (is it even so?) goes unreciprocated. It’s fine if you feel cold in her embrace, and it’s fine that she’ll never be yours the same way you are hers. If this is a ‘bad idea,’ then you’ll make the most out of it—anything to keep you happy, anything to please her.

As long as she still knows your name, and as long as she still wants you, it’s enough.

It’s a particularly rough day when you leave an abandoned building with blood on your sleeves. You know your job isn’t done yet. There are reports you have to write, some civilians you need to check on, but you’re not confident that you can keep your impatience and anger under control. You’re tired, miserable, and you’re wondering if those pills do help you or if you’ve been lied to again. A cold shower and coffee weren’t enough to wake you this morning. The so-called soothing balm did nothing to heal the ache in your neck, and things went downhill insanely quickly. Today’s mission was the worst one you’ve ever had. You couldn’t save your partner in time. Their life was syphoned out of their body as they cried—no, begged you to help them, and all you could do was watch it happen.

The weight of your sword on your back feels heavier when you think of your failure today. A good craftsman never blames his tools. Can you say the same thing about yourself? Your weapon is an extension of you. The blade hasn’t dulled, but you have. It makes you feel even worse to know that you aren’t competent at the one thing you can do. If you were, you could’ve saved your partner, the one before that, and the others you lost along the way. Their blood will always be on your hands no matter how much you clean them. You’re quite sure there’s still a splatter on your shirt, but you are so, so tired. Stains are the least of your concerns.

The path to the bar is more familiar than it should be. You can barely register the worried and fearful glances people send you as you walk by them, exhausted and dishevelled. Hell, the bartender isn’t even shocked when you take a seat. He’s seen you more times than he can count. Not as many while you’re looking this beat up, though he takes it well enough. Wordlessly, he brings you your regular order. He doesn’t bother you again after that.

The burn barely fazes you anymore. You settle down the glass a bit harder than you should’ve, making you wince. You don’t want another thing to go wrong today. Quite frankly, you just want it all to be over, so you can retire, rest and visit the places you’ve always wanted to go to. Maybe get married, have a family, or adopt a pet. What a normal entails isn’t that known anymore. You’ll take anything at this point.

“Rough day?”

Quanxi leans on her side against the counter, running her gaze up and down your form. It should make you feel embarrassed, what with the current state you’re in, but you don’t think you can even care anymore.

You chuckle humorlessly. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

It doesn’t occur to you until moments later that this is your first time seeing her in weeks. A part of you feels relieved to know that she’s fine, she’s here, and another part of you is in disbelief that she still wants to talk to you despite the state you’re in. You can’t decide whether that’s endearing or pitiable.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You’ve already made several bad decisions, what’s another one going to do? You can drink the whole night, or you can do something that’ll make you feel good and forget for a little while. You cut to the chase, staring down into the glass. “My place or yours?”

She blinks, bewildered, then she speaks up again, “You can come to mine.”

The world doesn’t come back to you until you’re in her apartment again, already out of breath as you try to keep up with her hungry kisses. They’re addicting, borderline overwhelming, but you always crave for more, more, more. Her hands are on your hips and tonight she touches you with a gentleness that wasn’t present in your other trysts. Her touches are featherlight, treating your body like it’s made out of glass, and for some reason unknown to you, it’s more than enough to make you break into tears.

You pull her closer, your arms wrapped around her waist as you sob into her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, only rubs soothing circles on your back and lets you cry your heart out. Conflicting feelings make their way into your heart, holding it tight within its suffocating grasp. You want her to say something, but at the same time, you don’t. You want to ignore everything, have her make you forget, but you also don’t want to.

Then you can finally breathe. Your cries turn into sniffles. Your breathing is shakier than it should be, but it gradually calms down. Her collar is stained with your tears, marked with your vulnerability, your weakness. It’s hard to speak. The silence kills you inside, breaks down every wall you’ve put up around you. You crumble before her, your nails lightly digging into her back as she gently lays you down on the bed. You’re still holding on to her when she tries to get up.

“I’ll get you some water,” she says. You think it’s the softest she’s ever sounded. Your hand lingers on hers for a moment before you reluctantly let her go, too worn out to ask or argue.

When she comes back, she crawls into her side of the bed. No words are shared as you curl up close to her. Her heartbeat steadily lulls you to sleep while she pulls you closer with her hand on your back, tucking your head beneath her chin.

And just like last time and the time before that, you wake up alone.

Your head hurts. Your body aches all over, hurting with the smallest movement, but you manage. Some water spills when you drink, which you haphazardly wipe away with the back of your hand. The clock on the wall tells you that you’re late for work, but you’re far too weary to move. Instead, you nestle deeper into the blankets, blankly staring at the nightstand as the city continues to live without you.

She didn’t leave you a note. Why would she? She’s not your lover; she doesn’t have to tell you anything. There’s a sense of urgency in the back of you should leave too. That there’s a busy day ahead of you, there are people and families you need to get in touch with, and there’s some loose ends that you need to tie up. It will get worse the longer you stall, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to care about it.

You don’t feel anything. You want to feel happy, angry, sad, anything, but you just can’t. Not when you’re on your own and the only company you have is the quiet. You don’t feel anything unless you’re in pain. You don’t feel anything unless you drink until you black out. But with Quanxi, you feel alive. With her, you don’t feel like a machine. You don’t feel like a killer, stained in the blood of those you failed to save. You’re someone she likes, at least enough to keep around for as long as she has. You’re someone she looks for when she needs you.

It’s not love. You know it isn’t. You don’t think she’ll ever love you the same way you love her. You’re not that oblivious to ignore what this truly is—pure unadulterated lust and desire, something to relieve stress whenever it arises. Days ago you cried until you had nothing left because you wanted more. Now, you just ignore it all. If it makes you feel good in the moment, makes you feel like you’re worth something, who are you to deny it?

You know you make bad decisions, ones that lead you to consequences you deal with alone like this one. You don’t care anymore. You never think twice. It’s just how you’ve always been.

You never think twice, but as the bed gets colder, you wonder if it’s about time you did.

[stabby-pal]

I’ve gotten so tired of the “Shadow the hedgehog is 50 years old 🤪” jokes because people use it as an excuse to draw porn of him, so I’m swinging violently in the opposite direction and saying there’s more evidence pointing to him being the youngest member of the cast then there is evidence that he’s an adult.

1: to get this out of the way, he was in STASIS for 50 years, so he did not age physically or mentally in that time.

2: in his Sonic Generations dlc we see that when shadow met Maria they both appear to be the same age, this implies that when shadow was “born” he had both his current mental age and his “teenager” type body.

3: Maria does not (at least visually) age between her first meeting with Shadow and when she dies on the Arc.

So with this information in mind Shadows actual age is based solely on how many years he had with Maria, which all things considered could be less than 1. There is a real tangible chance that the reason that he’s so unstable in SA2 isn’t just because he’s still mourning the loss of his best friend/sister but because she’s all he ever knew, he know her since the day he was born fully conscious, then she’s just gone. On top of that his entire world changed, if I lived in an environment with a complete lack of ambient noise and basically nothing but sterile empty halls and was suddenly on a planet with constant noise and bugs and weird smells I’d consider destroying everything, and that’s without the factor of still being in mourning.

Shadow may have the physique and mental fortitude of a 15-16 year old but clearly would not have any experience up to that point. This also explains why in the Shadow the Hedgehog game he’s so easily manipulated and influenced after losing his memory, he’s been set back to square one, he’s basically an infant.

Now this may have spawned as a “fuck you” to people sexualizing a fictional child but this explains so many quirks about him that I’m surprised that I haven’t seen more people talk about this or play into it in fan works, Shadow is basically a toddler in the body of a 9th grader given the power of a god, sure he’s smart enough to make decisions for himself but it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s huge gaps in his knowledge still even after living on earth for as long as he has.

In conclusion, let Shadow be a kid and stop making excuses to be creepy about him.

[iamthekaijuking]

Assorted Armored Core 6 thoughts

1: Iguazu as a character is just so fucking funny to me. Like here’s this pathetic little petty piece of shit who wants to be hot stuff but isn’t due to his own personal faults, and gets mad when he’s inevitably shown up. And then you come along and are better than him (which isn’t a high bar… I mean come on even his AC build is less than optimal) and for some reason that makes him lose his shit and now he hates you so much he’s willing to kill himself if it means killing you. Of all the people that broke him it was you, C4 621, Waltuh’s favorite little vegetable lobotomite. Michigan should have technically gotten that hatred out of him but no it’s you he hates.

2: I’ve seen some talk about what the “mealworms” the rubiconians eat are, and a lot of people think they’re tardigrades mutated by Coral, but I’d have to disagree. Coral isn’t a mutative substance, it’s just some anaerobic alien algae that explodes real good and can act like a supercomputer when in groups. It also might have a biochemistry toxic to humans since it can get us high and areas exposed to coral explosions are contaminated in some way, but it’s never been stated to directly tamper with genes. The anatomy of the mealworms also doesn’t match tardigrades that well and they only have a passing resemblance to them (their mouth anatomy is closer to that of a lamprey or hagfish, and they have too many legs). I think the mealworms might instead be alien fauna, but ones not native to rubicon that were instead brought in as livestock. Why not native to rubicon? Well the only other multicellular organisms we see in game are trees and grass that were almost certainly bought to rubicon by humans, and while rubicon 3 seems to be within the Goldilocks zone from its sun it’s definitely on the farther end of the spectrum. Every area (aside from grid, Xylem, underground, and atmospheric areas) has snow, except for where the Strider is seen, which is a desert. But desert doesn’t equal heat, it just means it’s a very dry place. Rubicon 3 might also not have a moon and we don’t know anything about its magnetosphere. Basically what I’m trying to say that rubicon 3 is a pretty tough place to live, and while multicellular life isn’t an impossibly given its conditions, it seems that the planet might only have microbial life.

3: A sort of follow up to the mealworm thing, but it seems like in the AC 6 universe humanity has discovered alien life, but never sapient ones. Any race other than humans is never mentioned, and coral is of human interest not because it’s an alien organism, but because it can act as a superfuel. Mealworms are likely also aliens. If this is all true then Coral might be the first truly sapient race encountered by humanity… and we’ve been using it as fuel and already almost rendered it extinct once… oops.

[pavel-chekov-appreciator]

I want better for Sybok.

I want a world where he got a fighting chance to do anything but become a cult leader. I’ve seen aus where he becomes a counselor and I can’t stop thinking about it.

No gods, no Sha-Ka-Ree, no cult. Just a kid who knows his history. Who researches Surak, and the world before him, and finds himself dissatisfied with present day Vulcan’s interpretations of his teachings. Unable to see the logic in following one ancient man’s words with no additional input or thought. Is this truly the best way for them to live? His mother didn't think so. He doesn't think so either.

He’s young, and he has big ideas and a lot of charisma, and a lot of inner pain from losing his mother and being suddenly told the way she was raising him was wrong. He quickly earns a reputation as a troublemaker. Indulging in blatant displays of emotionalism, just to prove his point, that he smiled and nothing bad happened, he cried and he felt better after.

He’s dissatisfied and ostracized and convinced there’s a better way to be living.

He fucks off at 18-not quite banished, but so strongly encouraged to leave that he might as well have been-and goes to a college on Earth, because the federation is a post-scarcity society so he has his basic needs met and he just wants to figure himself out, and where better to do that than a college campus, as far away from Vulcan society as possible. On his step-mother's home planet, where he knows at least a little of the culture, the language, what to expect.

He sees the school counselor a lot, and gets a lot out of their sessions. Takes some psychology courses and ends up getting really passionate about it.

Teaches himself to embrace his emotions while acknowledging that it’s very easy to be ruled by them. Utilizes aspects of traditional Vulcan control combined with the human practice of mindfulness to understand his emotions and control his strong impulse to act on them, without completely rejecting them. Knows he is choosing not to control his emotions, but he can and should control the actions he takes in response to them to avoid hurting himself or others. Knows that understanding why he feels a certain way can help him understand himself better.

Lives his best life and studies psychology to help other people find the same joy and peace he has, in whatever form that takes for them.

Then he finds out his baby bro basically told the VSA to fuck off and that dad more or less disowned him for joining Starfleet. Feels so damn proud of him for standing up the their parents like that.

Reunites with his brother after years of separation.

It’s rocky at first, but after both being disowned they’re all the family the other has left now, and they both do really care about each other.

Spock doesn’t understand Sybok’s choices, but he doesn’t need to understand them to respect them; Sybok is clearly still exercising some degree of control over himself, he even still meditates, he’s just controlling himself less, and differently, and his mind is more at peace than it’s ever been before. Sybok doesn’t really understand Spock’s continued dedication to logic either, but he respects it too, because clearly it still means something to Spock in a big way.

They make peace with each other, and their differences, and with the fact that their parents and society have rejected them. That Sybok did everything “wrong” and Spock did everything “right” and yet they both ended up in the same place; on Earth, with mom ignoring their calls, because she loved them both but she loves her husband more.

And ultimately he enrolls in Starfleet medical to become a ships counselor, because he still takes great joy in doing things he knows dad would hate, and because he wants to specialize in trauma and grief counseling and Starships need a lot of that, and because getting a new perspective on life from being around humans helped him a lot and he’s rejected a lot of philosophy that he found unhelpful but IDIC is something he still believes in; he wants to be around as many different ideas and perspectives as he can to improve himself and his practice, and Starfleet is a great way to do that.

Getting to follow his only remaining family into space is just a bonus.

[kkatastrophic]

please ramble to me about hinazumi i’ve never met someone who shipped this specific pairing so hard and i need to Know i need to experience this too

OH MY FUCKING GOD IVE WAITED FOR THIS DAY TO COME THANK YOU SO MUCH MOOTIE MWAH!!!

Hinazumi is in my eyes, the PERFECT AMAZING AWESOMEST ship of sdr2. I can understand why you'd like other ships though.

For starters, many people assume it's a rarepair because they haven't many interactions in the main game, with Mahirus death early on and all. I feel like if she lived longer this would totally flesh out the relationship, and she would be a sort of Chiaki kind of character, but we already have a Chiaki, so bye bye Mahiru *hits with a metal bat*

Spoilers from her on I guess

The main reason I ship this is because of mahirus ftes, if you play all of them in order you'll see EXACTLY what I mean.

"MAHIRUS A LESBIAN MAHIRUS A LESBIAN!" No??? She loves Saionji, yes, but she also has canonical attraction towards Hajime.

In her Ftes she starts as a tsundere. Well she's a tsundere until she dies, and technically I'm pretty sure hajime is too.

As the time she spends with Hinata grows, so does the personal connection that they have. Mahiru reveals that she had a bad father figure and her mother got her into photography, this shows that Mahiru doesn't really hate males at all. She just dislikes laziness and because of her father's actions in her mind all males are lazy. (This is entirely different to Tenko by the way).

Mahiru begins to act nervous in her final FTE and Hajime asks her if she's alright, she tells him that it'd be better to "do it" somewhere better and so she takes him to a beach.

Hajime pretty much assumes that its a confession of love and Mahiru tells him "no nevermind ill tell you when we're off the island" and with that they begin to take photos.

As they do so she promises that she will give him her camera once she gets off the island, which is because she trusts him (gift giving is a love language is it not? And based on Mahirus experience with other men it all seems to match - she assumes men are greedy and lazy, so if she liked one itd only make sense to give them something)

She also says that photos are the best way to see people, and that Hajime taking a photo of Mahiru is the equivalent to how he sees her as a person. This is both personality-wise and physically. She seems disappointed (something along the lines of "wow am I really that bland") which is something that usually wouldnt bother her because she's all about hard work and less about presentation.

Hajime promises to get off the island with her and be friends together, and then the FTE ends. That chapter she dies. That's very doomed isn't it? Like... danganronpa doomed lovers? Like?????

Anyway, throughout the game Hajime never loses his temper at mahiru for assuming things (but he does with Nagito) which might be a possibility to show his affection towards her.

Im also pretty sure they have interactions in the dr3 anime which I haven't seen.

I haven't played the games in a while so this is all from memory, but that's all the Canon proof of the main game that i can think of to why I ship Hinazumi.

I totally respect people who ship komahina, hinanami, mahiruxhiyoko, mahiruxsato etcetera. But hinazumi is just adorable and she should've lived longer to get the development she needed.

Its such a fun fluffy ship that I'd totally reccomend getting into. And her ftes make her a much more likeable character so check those out if you can!

[clownsnake]

guys. Astarion wasn’t literally considered a child when he was 30. Among elves he was clearly seen as Of Age to do adult things like drink and live independently and fuck and pay taxes. its just that elves have a stupid extra concept of adulthood that doesn’t MEAN adulthood in a literal sense. has nothing to do with physical or brain development. not even necessarily emotional development, but it kind of is depending on how u interpret it, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

basically elves in the forgotten realms trance instead of sleep (we know this) and until around age 110, during their trances they “dream” of their past lives (I’ve only seen a few ppl who know this, but idk if they also knew it stops at a certain age). They then stop dreaming of their past lives naturally, and it’s generally considered kinda traumatic to go through bc well. you’re losing what has been a fundamental part of yourself for so long.

I interpret that as being like a “shared trauma maturation stage” where instead of elves brains literally becoming more adult, losing the guidance of their past lives feels like more of a final step towards independence to them. and adulthood is just the closest social experience to this stage of being “truly on your own”

around 30-40 they get a “first reflection”, which is when their dreams start having experiences from their current life. (Makes sense for Astarion having a dream about Cazador in origin runs that prompts the biting scene) And then the loss of past life memories at 100-110 is called the drawing of the veil.

Tl;dr Astarion was a young adult by elf standards stop infantilizing him PLEASE

Getting into headcanon land now, feel free to draw your own conclusions from here.

i imagine older elves kind of have a sense of being more “mature” than under-110 elves in the way tht people comparing their trauma tend to do. Like “u think ur so smart and worldly but you haven’t even been through half the shit I’ve been through.” PATRONIZING that’s the word I’m looking for, it’s patronizing. And since every elf goes through this, they just kind of assume that yeah, going through this trauma/emotional loss IS a big step towards being a full adult. so it’s like if the concept of adult had a Pokémon evolution that didn’t involve getting wrinkly and hair loss and going through menopause or erectyle dysfunction. Adult 1.5 steam update.

I have no clue if Astarion would have the drawing of the veil as an undead elf. The fact that he even has dreams shows that being revived as a vampire keeps certain bodily functions running, mainly anything relating to the brain and consciousness, but idk if it would keep him physically at 30 or let his brain change.

Although hold on, in the epilogue where you’re a mind flayer and considering eating Astarions brain, you get narration that’s like “ooohh his brain part that handles senses must be sooo wrinkly” which would only be caused by the shit he went through post-vampirification. Meaning his brain Would be able to change and “mature”. But that’s also just an assumption that mindflayer!tav/durge is making.

k I looked it up. The exact quote is “Astarion’s sweet brain may be a bit less wrinkled than the rest, but you hunger for its teasing cells. His parietal lobe - which controls his sense of touch - will be an aphrodisiac in your maw.” Hilarious, he canonically gets called smooth brain. Anyway if u kill him I don’t think you get to eat his brain, withers just banishes you asap lmao. So we don’t actually know if his parietal lobe changed over his un-life! I’d wager it did though, based on his “don’t touch me” selection line (and probably some other lines hinting towards over-sensitivity tht im forgetting). And change caused by external trauma vs change caused by aging is different anyway.

no conclusion wrt to if he’d reach the drawing of the veil or not. Does it even matter? He’s still the same adult man, who’s gone through far worse hardships than losing memories of his past lives. If he lost his past life dreams too, well then I don’t think that’d make much of a difference for him.

[pattypanini]

Lay All Your Love On Me

Chapter 12- Triple Threat

Josh Kiszka x Reader and Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 6.1k

TAGLIST

AN: Hi everyone! Long time no see, lol. But fr it has been too long and Marley and I have been so sad that we haven't been able to write as much. We're sorry for how late this is but so happy to get the twelfth chapter out finally. We're trying to find a good schedule for writing over the summer so bare with us. Thank you so much for your patience, we love you all so much and couldn't do this without your support 💗. So enjoy the twelfth chapter, Triple Threat.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, penetrative sex, threesome (NO INCEST,) oral (f and m receiving), sex toys, butt stuff, cursing, angst, dirty talk, praise, possessiveness.

Josh’s POV

It’s been four days since you’d found out about it. You hadn’t bothered texting her or talking to her. She’d been calling out sick from rehearsals, even though you’ve seen her walking around campus. So you’ve been stuck with Sophia as her understudy.

You know you hurt her, but she hurt you far more. She can be the first one to contact you again, whenever she is ready. You can’t lie though, you have been missing her. 

You are currently walking back to your apartment with your AirPods stuck in your ears. You’re trying your best to drown out your own thoughts. You’ve been swimming around in your head delving way too deep within these last few days.

When you finally push the key into the door and walk in you’re met with Jake sitting there in silence. 

“Josh, we need to talk.” He looks up at you from the couch. 

“No. I don’t want to fucking talk to you Jake. Just give me some space.” You spit back at him. 

“You can’t just keep putting it off. We need to talk this out, man to man.” You roll your eyes and bring yourself into the living room. “Listen you can’t be mad at y/n because of this, it was all my fault I wanted her and you guys weren’t together.”

“We were still something Jake, and you knew that.” You narrow your eyes at him as you clench your fists into tight balls. 

“Then maybe if you felt that way you should have made it official sooner. She was happy with both of us man, it’s over now between us so just move on with it. She clearly loves you Josh. Has she reached out to you yet?” 

“No not yet, and I don’t plan on reaching out to her.”

“Why not, you know she's the one for you. I’ve never seen you so happy Josh, seriously. And when she was around me it wasn’t as nearly as happy as when she was with you. She lit up and looked like she had no worries.”

You never realized how she acted around you. You think for a second before you finally come to your senses.

“Clearly I wasn’t enough because she ran off to your dumbass,” You roll your eyes at him. 

“Like I said, maybe she just wanted a little fun in her life while she was still single. She did say if she could have us both she would…” He trails off and thinks to himself. “...hey Josh.”

“What?” You say with a deep sigh not wanting to hear whatever he’s about to say.

“What if she could have both of us, you know…for a night?”

“Jake-” you abruptly cut him off. 

“I know what you're about to say and I know we said we weren’t going to do it again but…”

“I don’t know Jake. What would I be gaining from it?” You give him a pointed look. 

“What do you have to lose? You’ll have a fun night with her and you know she’d like it. Just one time and I’ll be out of your guy's life.”

“I feel like this is just for you, Jake. You just want one more time with her.” “I mean it would be a benefit but it would clear the air and make things less awkward. It’ll be like a therapy type of thing you know? Closure?” 

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You make your way to your room and collapse onto your bed. You don’t know what to think. It’s not like you and Jake hadn’t done it before. You would never tell people that but sophomore year a girl that we were both talking to begged us to have a threesome with her. You both talked it over, and maybe it was the alcohol that you both had in your system, but the more you talked it over it made sense. So you made plans with the girl over the weekend and gave her the time of her life. She swore to never share and you never heard anything of it again. 

And it wasn’t that you were against the idea of doing it again. It was the idea of Jake being able to get with y/n again. You didn’t know if you were ready to see that happen. But maybe it will relieve some tension between everyone. Jake would be out of y/n’s life, and maybe you could rekindle things with y/n. 

You hate thinking about her, after everything that happened. But she has such control over you. And you hate that, but you need her, even after everything that happened.

You are debating sending her a text message to check in on her. You feel bad for ignoring her the past few days. But you needed the space, and so did she obviously. Your feelings cave in on you and you pull your phone out from your pocket. 

You pull up her message thread and just stare at the texts for a moment, debating if you really wanted to do this or your emotions were just getting the best of you. You think about what you were going to even say. It felt like the first time you’ve ever texted her again, not knowing if she would even give you the time of day. But you needed to try, you didn’t want to lose her. 

So, you come up with the best response you could think of. Not too pushy but also being assertive. 

5:23pm Josh: Hey Y/n, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I really want to talk to you, and see you. I miss you.

You reread the message probably 20 times before clicking the send button. You try to distract yourself but you can’t help but look back to see if she saw it or not. After an hour goes by, a notification pops up on your phone. 

6:31pm Y/n: What do you want?

6:32pm Josh: I wanted to talk to you. I miss you a lot, mama. 

6:44pm Y/n: I don’t really know what to say to you. 

6:47pm Josh: Y/n, I’m really concerned about you. You keep missing rehearsals and things are not going well with Sophia as your understudy. This musical is very important to me, but it’s going to go to shit if you don’t start coming to rehearsals again. 

6:52pm Y/n: Really?! All you fucking care about is whether I show up to the rehearsals? You don’t care about my wellbeing or why I’m not going to them?

6:54pm Josh: Well…I know you’re not going because you’d have to see me. 

6:56pm Y/n: Have you even given one thought about the awful things you said to me the other night? Calling me a bitch and a slut? Calling me those things is not okay in the slightest. 

She was right, it wasn’t okay. You’ve always struggled with saying things you didn’t mean when you were angry. 

6:59pm Josh: Look, I’m really sorry. I was committed to you in my head and I realize we were never actually dating. I said some things I did not mean at all. You don’t deserve to be treated that way. 

7:05pm Y/n: Even though you thought we were committed you didn’t act committed either. You were all over Sophia TO MY FACE to make me jealous. I just wanted someone to treat me right and I didn’t show it off to you. I know what I did wasn’t necessarily right but we were never together. I told you that I needed to tie up loose ends and you understood that, it was only until you found out it was your brother you had a problem. So what is it, me being with someone or your brother?

7:09pm Josh: I didn't want anyone to see you in that way, while we were hooking up, but finding out it was my twin brother? Yeah, it did make it sting a little more.

7:11pm Y/n: I still want you Josh. The night you said that out relationship was fucked I almost died on the spot. I cried the entire night thinking about how much I fucked up, then those flowers showed up. I just want to be with you, and I wanna be yours.

7:13pm Josh: I know mama, I want you to be mine too. Do you forgive me sweet girl? 

7:15pm Y/n: I think so

7:17pm Josh: Do you want me to come over later?

7:19pm Y/n: Yes, please come over. How does 9 sound?

7:20pm Josh: Sounds perfect, I’ll see you then.

You sit up from your bed, pleasantly surprised with how well that conversation went. You roll off the mattress and make your way to the living room, where Jake was. 

He looks up at you from the couch. “I texted her.” You say blankly. 

“Okay… what did she say?” Jake asks, suddenly very interested in the conversation.

“Well we talked and we both apologized for everything. Although I don’t like the idea of you being with her I wasn’t with her officially at the time because I was a pussy and didn’t do it earlier. But I’m going to see her tonight and I didn’t mention the idea to her or anything but…”

“Yes I wanna come. What time?” You see him perk up, sitting up straighter. 

“9 o’clock.” You weren’t too thrilled but decided this needed to end once and for all. 

“I’ll be there.” He says pointedly. 

Y/n’s POV

You hop out of the shower deciding after multiple days you needed to make a good impression for Josh. You were happy that he texted you. Not talking to him made you lose your mind but you couldn’t be the person to make the first move. You felt refreshed, not only physically but also mentally. All of the upsetting thoughts that have been flowing through your head were finally cleansed and you could start over with Josh.

As you make your way to the room you pass by Char’s room. 

“Hey Josh is coming over tonight and I know what you're going to say but…”

“JOSH? Seriously y/n after everything that happened between you two? You told me yesterday that if he..” Before she can go any further and jump down your throat even more you cut her off. 

“I know I know Char, but you also saw how sad I was when things ended. He’s the one for me, he's the one I want.”

Charlotte closes the book she was reading and sits up on her bed. “He said such awful things to you though.” 

“We all say things we don’t mean when we're angry, Char. Besides, I wasn’t saying the nicest stuff either. Mistakes were made on both ends and now we're going to resolve it once and for all.” 

She gives you a questioning look. “And by resolve you mean make up sex? But hey I trust you, I will be gone for the night so you guys do what you gotta do.” She shoots you a wink to which you just roll your eyes at. 

She begins to pack a night bag and you make your way to your room. You go to your drawers and pick out a cute matching pair of panties and bralette. You slip on a pair of gray sweatpants and your tattered blue Michigan crewneck. You quickly run a brush through your hair realizing that Josh was going to be arriving any moment. As you make your way to the kitchen you fill up your water bottle and sit down on the couch and patiently wait for his arrival. 

Before you know it the sound of the doorbell echoes throughout the dorm. Char runs to the door bag in hand and lets Josh in with an upsetting look. 

“Bye y/n, see you tomorrow!” With that she was out the door, leaving you and Josh all alone. 

The tension in the room was heavy, and the silence you could cut with a knife. You both stand there in your kitchen staring at each other in total silence. 

“Hey.” Josh says curtly. 

“Hi.” You give him a small smile to hopefully ease the tension a bit. You lead him to the living room and take a seat on the couch. He follows you and takes a seat on the other side of the couch. 

There is silence for a brief moment, before you are the first to speak. 

“I miss you a lot, Josh. I’m so incredibly sorry.” And you were telling the truth. You were sorry. It never should have gotten this far with Jake, but you still didn’t regret it no matter how wrong it was. 

“I know baby, I’m so sorry too.” He reaches over and grabs for your hand. “I want you to know that what happened between you and Jake was not my business. Although it hurt me that you would do it behind my back I understand why you didn’t share it. I should have treated you the way you deserved to be treated. If Jake could do that for you I understand why you went back to him, but I’m here to do that now.” He leans in to push your hair behind your ear. “I need you y/n. And I hope you can accept my apology, even if it’s not today.”

“I accept your apology Josh.” You lean your head into his hand, as he begins to gently rub your cheek with his thumb. “I’m also really sorry. I should have never done any of it behind your back, especially with your own brother. You both were great to me and I appreciate the time I had with both of you, but I want you.” 

You watch as a grin forms on his face and he reaches for his phone in his back pocket. He pulls it out and begins… texting someone? You can’t understand how this would be a good time to be texting. When you’re both in this vulnerable, heart-baring state? 

He sends the message and looks back up at you. “Well I’m glad you loved your time with both of us, but after tonight it’s just me mama.”

“No I totally understand Josh I just, wait…what did you say?” You hadn’t processed what he actually said. You think over his words in your head…

“Well I’m glad you loved your time with both of us, but after tonight it’s just me mama.”

“What do you mean after tonight?”

“Well Jake led me onto something you had said. Something about how ‘if you could have both of us you would’ and whatever context that was for, you’ll be able to have that.” He says with a smirk on his perfect face. 

“A-are you serious?” Your eyes widen, as your heart rate picks up. 

He couldn’t possibly mean it.

“You mean, we’re all just gonna talk tonight?” You are in denial. 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re not that dense are you?” He gives you a sexy smirk and you begin to put the pieces together. 

As if on cue, you hear a knock at the door. Your body goes numb and feels as if you could pass out. 

There is no way this could be happening. 

Moments go by and you realize you never answered the door. You bounce up off the couch and quickly make your way to your door. 

You take a deep breath before opening it, knowing exactly who would be standing on the other side. You hope in your mind that it could be Char coming back for something she forgot, or a surprise visitor, but it's not. 

On the other side of the door was no one other than Jake. Standing with the same demeanor as his twin brother. You make eye contact with him and immediately feel the nerves swirling around in your belly. 

He is dressed in a black button up, only buttoned up to his navel, and white linen pants. His hair is still wet, you assume from the shower he must have just gotten. He smells of musky teakwood, you almost collapse right then and there. He looks positively delectable. 

“Hi, darling. Long time no see.” He says stepping over the threshold into your dorm with a small brown box, causing you to back up a few steps. 

“Hi Jake.” You shut the door and stand there looking at both men. You are hoping that Josh is going to hold up on this offer. 

Josh stands up from the couch and makes his way over to where you and Jake are standing. 

“How is this for a peace offering, mama?” At first you think Josh is being rhetorical, until he gives you a look as if he is waiting for you to answer. 

You choose not to say anything, in fear of saying the wrong thing . 

“Is my baby girl not going to answer me? Do you still not understand mama?”

You shake your head at him as Jake turns your head towards him.

“Since Josh only wants you to himself, which I think is very selfish,” he says as his eyes travel down to your lips, “He’s agreed that we can all have one more night together, all of us.”

“Oh.” You let your mouth fall open in shock.

Jake pushes your jaw up to close your mouth. “Only if you want to though.” 

“I do I do,” you say almost too fast “but isn’t it like incest?”

They both let out a chuckle at your question.

“No y/n it is not, we know what we’re doing. It isn’t our first time.” Josh alluded. 

Your eyes widen and can’t believe what they just admitted.

“You’ve done this before?” You were in complete shock. You knew how they both were in bed, but this? This is a total curveball.  

“Once, with some random girl a long time ago. But with you,” he looks you up and down with desperate eyes, “it’ll be so much better with you, right darling?” Jake says beginning to pressure you back towards Josh. 

You feel Josh’s arms wrap around your chest, pulling your back against his chest. Jake makes his way towards you, connecting his hands to your waist. You are sandwiched between both boys. You begin to relax your body and your heart rate evening out.

“That's it, relax for us mama.” Josh whispers seductively into your ear. He gives you a squeeze around your chest before leaning down and kissing your neck. 

You watch as Jake slowly drops to his knees in front of you. “We both know that you wanted us both y/n, you're going to finally have that. Tell us baby, what do you want us to do?” His hands travel up the sides of your legs to your hips. His submissive eyes look up to you, something you had missed looking at. 

“Just touch me please. Both of you.” You say with a shaky breath as Jake’s hand starts to make its way underneath your sweatshirt. You feel Josh’s kisses turn into hard sucking on your neck. You began to feel your legs go weak beneath you. 

You feel Josh’s lips detach for a brief moment. “Wanna go to your room mama, so we can have you all spread out for us?” 

You pull their arms off of you before grabbing both of their hands and leading them back to your room. Once you enter you are swiftly pushed back onto the bed by Josh. As he makes his way to your shirt you feel Jake begin to pull at the hem of your sweats.

You feel like you're on another planet. That a filthy dream you have had is coming to life. You would have never thought this would ever happen, but now it is playing out right in front of you. 

After discarding your clothing on the floor you are left in nothing but your matching set. You feel Jake’s hands move up and down your thighs, creeping dangerously towards your core. 

“Were you expecting this to happen tonight mama? I don’t think most people just wear something like this to makeup with their boyfriend.” Josh says as he massages your tits through the thin lace.

Boyfriend? 

You can’t decide if this was his way of asking or something he had just said in the moment. Either way you were too distracted to decide with the current situation at hand. 

“I didn’t expect this to be happening tonight. But it isn’t out of the question when you come over, Josh.” He gives a satisfied hum to your statement as his fingers slide underneath your bra strap. He reaches under you unclasping it and pulling it from your body.  

You feel Jake's finger’s slip under the waistband of your panties. “I think this is getting to her more than she wants to lead on, her panties are fucking soaked and we barely did anything.” Josh walks around to take a look himself. 

“Such a slut for us mama. You sure you’ll be able to handle us both?” Josh says as he takes over the lower half of you. He grabs your ankles pulling you down towards the end of the bed, making you wince.

You aggressively nod your head, afraid of them stopping. Josh kneels in front of you and grins as he pulls down your panties and throws them to Jake. 

“So wet darling, I can’t wait to have it all over my cock.” Jakes says as he examines your drenched underwear. He brings them close to his mouth before licking up the center of them. “Hmm you taste so good. Josh is so lucky to be able to taste that right now.” Before you have a chance to look back down at Josh, you feel his tongue being pressed into your core. 

Your hands fly down to grip onto the sheets. “Oh fuck.” You whine out as Josh's tongue laps up your slit.

Josh pulls his head away for a second, “Missed your pretty voice so much, and this sweet pussy of yours.”  

You feel the bed shifting around your head as Jake makes his way towards you. “Are you gonna make me feel good darling? I can’t wait to feel those pretty moans around my cock.” As he brings his cock closer to your face you grant him access and open your mouth wide for his. Right as you begin to move up and down his shaft you feel Josh grab your inner thighs and widen them. 

As you try to focus on Jake you can’t help but get distracted by Josh beneath you. You release your hands from the firm grip you have on the sheets. You move your hand up to Jake’s cock, stroking what didn’t fit into your mouth. You feel Jake push his cock further into your mouth, making you gag.

“Yes baby, just like that. Gag around my cock. Feels so fucking good” He reaches to your shoulders and begins to fuck himself into your mouth. Your mouth and throat are filled with every inch of Jake. 

Josh continues lapping at your cunt, making sure to pay special attention to your swollen clit. You can feel your orgasm creeping up on you. Your noises caused by Josh were being muffled onto Jake cock making him release his own filthy noises. 

“Fuck y/n I’m gonna cum keep gagging on my cock, yes just like that baby.” Jake says in his whiny voice. “I missed your pretty mouth so much, always making me feel so fucking good.” He drops his head back as he releases a primal growl. 

You start to grind your pussy against Josh’s mouth, causing him to moan into your wet folds. Before you can reach your own release you feel Jake’s cum hit the back of your throat. He pulls himself out and immediately attaches his mouth to your nipple. Your back arches off the bed and you can tell you close. 

“Josh, I’m so close. Oh God, please don’t stop, feels so good.” As he continues to suck and lick your clit you feel him insert a finger into you. You reach your one hand into Jake’s hair and slide your other down your body and into Josh’s hair. You never knew you could feel this way, never in your life have you felt this good. 

The knot in your stomach became overwhelming and before you could do anything the wave of pleasure took over you. As your eyes squeeze shut and hands clutch around Josh’s hair you let your body relax beneath the brothers. When you open your eyes you can’t believe that they are both in the room with you. 

“You cum so gorgeous, mama.” Josh smiles up at you from between your legs. He kisses all the way up your legs to your thighs and stomach. “You're so perfect, did you make Jake feel good?” You nod down to him as Jake walks to the end of the bed. Jake lifts your foot and slowly kisses up to your ankle. “Can you make me feel good now, mama?” 

You nod and begin to sit up and reach for his cock through his pants before he stops you. “I had something else in mind, baby.”

“Like what Josh?”

“Well after last time we were together we experimented and I wanted to see if you wanted to do it again, but with someone else now.”

“Like having him in my ass?” You say, not knowing how you feel about it.

“No, no not like that. I’ll be pleasing that perfect pussy of yours and Jake will just get to have a little fun with your tight little ass. Does that sound like something you wanna try?”

It wasn’t something you had thought about, but you weren’t opposed. 

“It’s definitely something I wanna try.” You confess to him. He begins shedding off his clothes, until he is completely bare. 

“Yeah?” He gives you the sexiest smirk. “Flip over for us. Hands and knees. Now.”  

You immediately obey him rolling over onto your stomach, pushing up to your hands and knees. You feel their eyes scan over your body. You hear footsteps walking away from you, causing you to turn to look over your shoulder. 

You see Jake walking back over to you and Josh carrying a small wooden box. 

“W-what's that?” You stutter on your words, excitement pulsing through your veins. 

“Oh darling,” Jake pops the box open for you to see the contents, “just a couple toys. We figured you’d want to try them out.” 

“Well what are they?” You question him, as he reappears at your side on the bed. 

“Take a look for yourself.” You sit down onto your heels as he hands you the box and lets you examine. 

You unclasp the small lock on the front and open the lid slowly. Inside you see three butt plugs ranging in different sizes, glass anal bead dildo, and a small vibrator. 

“Can I try them all out?” You say in a half joking tone, hoping they would catch onto the serious part of your tone.

Josh looks at Jake and you see them communicate with only their eyes, in some way that you would never be able to understand. 

“We can do whatever you want mama. If you wanna try them all you can. We’ll work your way up.” Josh says as he pushes your hair behind your ear and rubs your jaw before grabbing a chunk and bringing you back onto all fours. Josh makes his way behind you before lining himself up with your core and slowly pushing in.

You feel Jake reach into the box and pull out the smallest butt plug. “Open.” You open your mouth and Jake presses the cold metal into your mouth. You lick the metal and he pulls it out with a pop. Josh begins to thrust faster into you, filling you up in a way that you haven’t felt in a while. 

After getting comfortable with the pace you feel a cold gel being massaged onto your asshole by Jake who is standing off the bed looking down at you. “Tell me if you want me to stop okay darling?”

“Yes Jake, oh fuck Josh.” You try to give Jake some type of attention but Josh quickly steals that from him. 

“Remember who you belong to, mama, tell me who’s are you?” Josh asks as he grabs some hair and yanks on it softly. 

“I’m yours Josh, no one else's.” You say in your shaky voice.

“And you know after today Jake doesn’t get to have you anymore right.” He says, pulling more forcefully and he continues to drive himself into you. 

“I’m not his, all yours and.. OH FUCK!” Before you can finish your statement you feel the cool metal butt plug entering you. “Oh Jake, that feels so good. I don’t know how long I can last, it feels so good guys.”

“Let your body relax mama, just let us make you feel good, and fill you up.” Josh adds before slowing his pace slightly. “You wanna put in a bigger plug baby? I think you can take it. Can you take it like a good girl for us?”

That alone could have sent you over the edge. “I want the glass one. I want you to fuck me with it Jakey.” 

Jake smirks down at you. “Gladly darling. I wanna make this time memorable for me.” Shooting a daring look at Jake, like there is some type of underlying anger between them even though they agreed to do this. You know that they are both slightly jealous but you wanna make sure Josh knows that you are his.

“Joshy, can you put it in for me? I wanna feel you fill me up in both holes, and then Jake can fuck me with it.” You say looking back at him with seductive eyes.

“God mama you’re gonna be the end of me.” Jake hands Josh the beaded dildo. Before placing it in your ass Josh licks up and down the toy and slowly pushes it into your lubed asshole. After having the first bead pushed in Josh hands it over to Jake and slowly continues his thrust. 

You feel each rivet of the toy make its way into you. After two divots Jake stops and lets you adjust.

“Is that too much, or do you want another?” Jake questions softly.

“Another please, and Josh goes faster. I know you guys are trying to be nice but I need it harder.” 

Without speaking to one another Josh picks up and the pace on your pussy while Jake begins to fuck the glass dildo in and out of you slowly, but enough to give you a deeper pleasure.

Your arms give out on you and your body falls onto the mattress. Josh was able to fuck you deeper, hitting a part of your pussy that was left untouched for a while. As he continues on your pussy you feel Jake pull the toy all the way out, leaving your ass feeling empty.

“Look at that pretty hole Josh.” Jake points out. You look back to Jake and see him spit into your ass that is now left open for both of them to see. Throughout it all Josh never slowed down or faltered his movements. You knew you were getting close to your second orgasm.

“Oh my god I’m so close. Put it back in, fuck me harder Jake don’t hold back. I need it.” Jake swiftly grabs the toy and pushes it back into you. As the boys fill you up Josh pulls you back up onto your hands. 

Jake leans down and kisses your ass before biting hard down onto it. The feelings that were roaming your body were becoming a sensation of overwhelming bliss. You never wanted it to end, but you knew after tonight it would never happen again, so you took in every feeling you could. You let your body let go and let Josh and Jake lead you to your climax. 

“Joshy I’m gonna cum please please harder. Jakey harder oh my god.” They both quicken their pace and bring you to your peak. Your orgasm washes over your body and you feel your arms giving out on you again. Jake slowly pulls out the dildo and Josh shortly after brings himself to his climax. After finishing you he collapses on top of you. His warm moist body being pressed against you was something you had missed.

You almost forgot Jake was in the room until you heard movement in front of the bed. After Josh moves off from on top of you, you flip to your side and look at both of them. They look to you, waiting for some type of response for what just happened. 

“I- that was the best sex I’ve ever had. I don’t even know what to say.” They laugh at your comment as Jake and Josh begin to cloth themselves. 

“I’m glad you had a good time mama.” Josh says as he sits beside you on the bed and plays with the hair framing your face. “But you know that’s the only time right, and the last time with Jake.”

“I know, and that’s okay. I’m yours Josh and that’s the only way I’d ever want it. No offense Jake.”

“None taken. I enjoyed our time y/n. I’ll head out and let you guys talk things over.” Jake grabs his things and leaves with one final smile and a wave. You felt weird, but glad that things came to an end the way they did. You turn your attention back to Josh who was staring down to you with loving eyes.

“So tell me mama what was your favorite part?”

“You.” You say with a smile as you play with the jaw string of his sweats.

“Are you saying that to make me happy or are you saying it for real?”

“For real Josh. You made me feel so good. If I could have you do both things I’d take that in a heartbeat.” You sit up and make your way to your drawers and pick out a shirt and shorts for bed.

“Alright baby if you say so. I’d much rather do both parts but I feel like the way things played out was healthy. I know if anyone else knew about this they’d probably call the cops but for the situation I think it helped work everything out. You got to have a fling one more time with Jake but me being here made it feel like I could control it a little, I know that’s weird but I was more comfortable with it than just letting you be with him alone.” Josh explains as he plays with the comforter he’s sat upon. 

“I know Josh. I wanna talk everything over. Like everything but my mind is very foggy from tonight and I’m tired. Do you wanna go to bed and go to breakfast tomorrow and talk it over? I’m not trying to cut things off short and act like I’m trying to escape the conversation but I think talking about this tomorrow would be best for both of us.” You turn the lights off and climb into bed, Josh following you under the sheets. 

“I agree. There are certain things I want answers to but I don’t want to force you into answering them now. Let’s talk it over tomorrow. Thank you for going along with tonight. Were you uncomfortable in any way?”

“Not at all. At first I was worried because, you know, incest. But after being a part of it I understand it now. But this can never be spoken about to anyone ever.” Josh nods his head aggressively, making you laugh. 

“Goodnight Joshy, thank you for giving me a second chance. I don’t think I’d be able to live life without you.”

“I don't know if you’re just saying that because you're tired, but I wouldn’t be able to live without you either, mama. Good night, love.” 

As he presses a kiss onto your lips and pull yourself closer to him feeling some sort of completeness. A sense of whole, and you wouldn’t trade that feeling for any other guy in the world.

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

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[oleanderbailey]

The Dinner Party of Adolescence

An internal monologue from Ives Gannet, the main character of my WIP novel Into The Vortex. Ives, the soon-to-be serial killer nicknamed the Portland Maneater, reminisces on how she chose to let her putrid nature develop back when she was still capable of stopping it.

1323 words // 6.5 minute read

Not a recommended read for those sensitive to mentions of sexual themes, murder and child molestation.

The only times I’ve felt true desire were those moments just before sleep. That’s the time most people tend to drift into yearning, right? They lay in bed and think of sweat-covered, glistening bodies and masturbate their worries away until they fall asleep. I do things a little differently.

My way of experiencing nightly desire seems to be less practical than the normal way, but that’s usually the case. These trains of thought never lead me to happy places – instead, to a tear-stained sleep and a jaw so tense it hurts in the morning. I don’t think of shirtless men with rippled abs or bikini-clad women, yet, I still find something to long for. I long for the desperate yearning of memories. I long to look behind me at everywhere I’ve been, and scramble back towards it, clammy hands reaching for the good that supposedly so heavily riddled my past. I long to be able to trace my winding trail of footsteps through the scenes I’ve seen, the homes I’ve lived in, the people I have loved, all the way back to my first everything – without feeling such an intense sorrow.

Even in the most benign-looking places I could visit in my head – break-times at my first school, the quiet walks in the local park, the kitchen of my childhood home – at any little disturbance, the bugs hiding in the cracks and the crevices will scuttle out of their hidey-holes, and I’ll remember. I’ll remember how disease and dirt has infected every experience I call my own. I’ll remember how other children would giggle amongst themselves and point at me as I paced the playground alone, I’ll remember only feeling safe enough to cry in the solitude of the deep woods, I’ll remember how much blood was on the kitchen floor and how I felt nothing when I saw my own mother’s lifeless body. Her head was pointed towards the door when I walked in, her mouth hanging open inhumanly wide, her trademark rosy cheeks a paper-white, eyes merely scattered with the remnants of fear. The fear I should have felt, too, but I didn’t.

All I felt was fascination. And then, I’ll remember why instead of lusting after memories, I fantasise about taking a gun and blowing them out of my head. They’re too irregular for me to understand. After a certain point, I stopped walking through life, and instead tripped over and was dragged through dirt to where I am now. I’m too tired to get up.

I don’t know why I’m like this. I just want to lose all comprehension of myself and rebuild my consciousness from scratch, because honestly, I think I’ve fucked up from my first thought. And unless I get a chance to start over, I’ll fuck up until my last breath.

If I were to try and rationalise myself – an admittedly bad habit that I sometimes try to get out of - I’d explain my current state as a consequence of my experience with sex and family and life being fucked up so young, so early into my development that I can’t see any point trying to be normal moving forward, because I never will be. Instead of doing what others do and push down any “forbidden” intrigues or desires, why shouldn’t I just embrace them? I never had the normality that they cling onto, so what have I got to lose?

I understand why so many psychologists jump to theories that serial killers and rapists were molested as children too, even when there’s no direct account to suggest it. It’s such a dark and morbid thing that, to the human brain, it’s only logical that things so vile must have sourced from another evil. To some extent, they’re right. Mixing childhood or trauma with sex can really, really fuck you up - if you let it. That’s the key to it that not many of these psychologists can ever get because they’re talking about experiences they will never have; it’s not as simple as “get molested, become a sexual deviant” with entire inevitability, it’s more like having the option of becoming an absolute fucking freak offered to you at the dinner party of adolescence, whilst everyone else was served “a thing for boys with brown hair” or “a thing for girls making fun of them”. Well, “offered”… you’re never able to refuse it completely.

See, the dish I was served, it had teeth, malice, and a thirst to ruin the life of the prepubescent it saw before itself. Before there was any hope in stopping it, it jumped up from the table and sank its teeth into my flesh. If you were to ask for forceps to rip it out, although the fight and the desperation would be gone, you’re still left with the wound, and then still left with the scar. You’re not truly free from it. But, you are free from the danger you could manifest. You know how to easily keep a lid on it.

Others like me immediately asked for the forceps – they were scared by something feeling wrong in their head and they cried to their parents about it, who quickly whisked them off to a child psychologist who knew what they were doing and knew how to ensure this child’s wounds turned into perfect, shiny scars. Something I struggle with when I look into the mirror each morning is that I liked the feeling of the curse gnawing at the muscle in my forearm. I was intrigued by these thoughts and that I was thinking beyond the trivial hand-holding that my classmates were discussing on the playground. But, most of all, I didn’t care that it wasn’t normal – because I never knew if I was normal! Pushed out of my family, pushed out of any conceivable social group in school, I never had a reference. So, I just never asked for the forceps. Because I didn’t know they existed. I looked at the demon making mince of my flesh and I took it as a fascination.

I know that’s not entirely my fault. I was just a kid – a very, very lonely kid – who didn’t know that her brain was driving on the other side of the road until it was too late. Everything just aligned too well – I was born morbid, I lived in morbid, and was in perfect shape to react to something like the murder in the way that I did. On the other hand, I feel like I still would have loved the way things were going even if I knew they shouldn’t be going that way. I didn’t want to stop this when I could, or to seek treatment when it would have made a difference. There’s no way to know, of course, but after all these years I have never been able to shake the feeling that my demented decisions caused all of this, and if I was a kinder person to myself, things wouldn’t be like this. I chose to be this way.

I am an evil reimagining that my holier self sees in the bathroom mirror each morning. I see her, too. I see her disappointment in what she knows is inside herself, and what she is capable of. To her, I embody filth. To me, she embodies everything I could have been. Just to scare her, I stare into her eyes sometimes until she starts crying.

Being so comfortable with what is vile about myself has led me to reject the parts of me that are wholesome and good. I want that cunt through the water-stained glass pane to wake the fuck up and realise she is already what she is so afraid of being; she has just sugar-coated everything to deceive others and hopes that she will eventually deceive herself. But - she won’t. I know she won’t. Because it didn’t work for me, either.

Purity is fucking overrated.

[a-big-apple]

ok locked tomb fam, we’re getting closer to october and the original release date for Alecto, and i’ve been seeing an uptick in anxious/aggravated fans in the tags wondering when we’ll get any new info. waiting is very hard, i feel it too, so i wanted to share some things i have gleaned about publishing through a masters degree and a decade of bookselling!

the book is not coming out in october. the marketing would have started months ago if it was—and there’s no way that the final book in a series as on the radar as TLT would have less marketing than the previous books did. the galley isn’t out there yet either, as far as i’ve seen. i think a fall or winter release is extremely unlikely at this point.

book publishing, for the most part, is not willy nilly. marketing has to thread the needle between starting too early (risking losing the attention of the casually interested) and starting too late to build a good buzz. release dates have to take into account what other books are coming out at the same time—not just what Tor is putting out, but likely what their parent company, macmillan, is putting out. i know this is capitalism at work, but this is the system we live in: they don’t want similar or similarly big books in the same company or imprint competing with each other, it can hurt sales all around. 

Tamsyn said in an interview back in december ‘22 that Alecto was written, but editing had not begun yet. editing takes a lot of time, and marketing steps are frequently linked up—announcing a release date hinges on how close the book is to being ready, especially since the original release date is no longer applicable, and getting books ready for print takes a lot of time and a lot of steps!

the biggest times of year for book releases, especially highly anticipated books, are Oct/Nov before holiday shopping starts, and Mar/Apr/May. obviously that’s not true for every book, but this is a big book for Tor, and big books get better spots in the release calendar. if i had to make an educated guess, i would wager Alecto will probably come out in spring ‘24, and we won’t start to see announcements or marketing until after the official release of the Nona paperback on Sept 12. again, this is sales driven: news about Alecto could muddy the waters for the Nona paperback and impede sales, especially since there’s new content in there. i think it’s likely we’ll hear something a little later in the fall.

i’m not as plugged into publishing as i used to be, so i am fully prepared to be wrong about any of this—it’s just assumptions based on what i’ve experienced of the book industry.

either way though, a point i want to make is that nobody at Tor is witholding information from us maliciously. there are a million moving parts in making and marketing a book (and i’m sorry, but huge Hollywood movie releases that are topically resonant but not actually related do not have any effect on publishing schedules). most of those moving parts are human beings: Tamsyn, trying to tie up the series under enormous pressure, still during a pandemic; her editor, who has other books to edit at the same time, and surely wants to do this work justice; Moira Quirk, hopefully, bringing her genius to recording the audiobook; copy editors, designers, marketing people, all of whom are people, many of whom are overworked and underpaid in an industry that is largely not unionized. 

they’re not trying to fuck with us. i understand where these impulses come from, but getting angry, begging, pestering, none of that is going to change the plain fact that you can’t market a book until you have an almost-ready book, and Alecto is one that Tor will want to put the best tactics and timing behind. be patient a little longer. fuck corporations and capitalism, but have empathy for the individuals who will put Alecto in our hands from within a very flawed system. Tor has a long and successful history in speculative fiction publishing, they know what they’re doing.

[k9punkout]

why do you think till sabotaged his opponent in round 2 and didn’t give him a chance to sing? i’ve seen a few different possible reasons thrown around- was he trying to make a statement, that he wouldn’t participate in alien stage the way he was expected to? was he preventing himself from losing? did he see it as his only chance to confess to mizi with the song he wrote for her? something else entirely?

i’d love to know your thoughts on this, your characterization of till is top tier

-atrophiedemotion

AGHHHHH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH <33

personally, I believe he did it for a multitude of reasons, including most of what you mentioned.

first and foremost, he was trying to make a statement. he was showing that he would not live in compliance, screaming out to the whole world that they could never tame him(except they did in r6 but IGNORE THAT). his choice to perform his OWN song about his OWN emotions exhibits a sense of individuality that is rare in pet humans in this universe, and since alnst has such a large following, and Till especially has a lot of people observing his behavior due to Urak calling him "the best in history," he knows that this is his chance to get the message across to society.

in the round 2 description, vivinos said her personal favorite line is when he yells "come on" at the beginning of the song, because it's like he's commanding the audience to follow his rhythm. Till leads his own crowd, makes them feel what he wants them to feel, and while that used to be the purpose of art, it seems to have lost its meaning in the alnst universe, especially with music that is sung by pet humans, so Till accomplishing this is a testament to his "artistic genius".

while the song was about Mizi, I don't think he did it as a confession to her. one of his lines right before the chorus was "you'll never know," so I don't think he ever planned on telling Mizi that he was in love with her, but also doesn't plan on ever letting go of his emotions ("i dont wanna stop"). i think there are so many reasons as to why he feels this way, but that's a Till rant for another time.

the fact that he chose to perform a love song he wrote to the audience says something as well. Mizi is his muse and motivation for both the art he produces and the bravery he exhibits. Using his love as an act of rebellion is a perfect way to show that. He's singing about love the way HE experiences it, and he's displaying the person that it made him. it's all a huge story with a strong message.

and then we get to the murder. honestly idk why it wasn't expected like. why would you give the hostile unpredictable alien hater an ALIEN guitar and expect it to turn out normal. nevermind the fact that he acted somewhat normal in the preliminary rounds you should've known something was up his sleeve. (also the fact that Freddie was BRED to be a damn guitar is like. fucking dystopian in itself. like what is this qu behavior.)

he killed Freddie on impulse the second his opponent tried to sing, because he was NOT abt to let his spotlight get stolen. also because he hates all aliens.

on a deeper note, i think he did it for control as well. much like Luka, the stage is the only way Till can get the feeling of being truly in charge of a situation, with minimal restrictions and less intense consequences. Unlike Luka, Till doesn't taunt or abuse his opponents but overwhelms them instead, thus his performance in round 2 and his killing Freddie. It would also explain part of the "bliss" he is said to feel after killing him.

Of course, another reason behind his bliss is the fact that Mizi looked up at him. he adores having her attention on him, he can never get enough of it ("still it's not enough"), and I think he's happy with it in any form, even if that form includes shock and horror at the stage being turned into a bloodbath. he was looking at her like a puppy after performing a trick and getting a treat as a reward.

it's also important to lean into his more compassionate side, especially when it comes to Mizi. I'm not 100% sure about this, but he might've also been happy to have distracted her from her grieving over Sua, if only for a second. replacing her anguish with surprise that won't make her feel better, but will take her mind off of it. (i think the mess of blood and gore only served to make Mizi's mental state worse, but that wasn't his intention.)

LAST REASON, and probably silliest- Acorn (r2 npc) and Till canonically have beef. I mean, Till has beef with everyone, but Acorn specifically wrote in his goodbye letter: "you're talented. i'll give you that." you can SMELL the passive-aggression. it's beyond me as to why, but it explains Till's lack of care about his life and death.

(MY personal theory: it's canon that Acorn has confessed to Sua multiple times, only to be rejected. he might've noticed how much she loved Mizi and grew resentful of her, and Till might have overheard him slandering her or something and never forgave him since.)

ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THIS DELIGHTFUL OPPORTUNITY TO YELL ABOUT ROUND 2 BECAUSE ITS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ROUNDS, AND ABOUT TILL BECAUSE I LOVE HIM SO <3

[loversj0y]

hi hi hi for the event: gold rush!!!!!

also congrats!!! 200 is a fucking insane amount and im so proud of you!! love ur content man!!!!!! :3

gold rush

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

tw: they go to a bar, slight angst? just in the sense of unrequited pining (or perhaps... requited?) some self deprication

notes: fun fact! this song will be utilized again on my blog because it is the main song inspiration for part four of my tis the damn season au. bc of that, i had to come at this with a bit of a different angle creatively which was pretty fun ngl

word count: 1.2k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

You had a problem. You hated Wilbur Soot. 

You knew him well, you two have been friends for a while after meeting at a mutual friend’s party. At first glance, you knew you hated him. With every fibre of your being you hated him. 

You hated him for one specific reason. You wanted him more than anything. He was gorgeous, tall and always looking like the sun chose only him to shine on. He had these soft brown locks of hair that always seemed to curl just the right way, even when he wasn’t trying. He’d come in with a beanie with the curls just peeking out, but once he’d pull the beanie off, they’d immediately settle in a beautiful pattern, waves of brown deserving of attention. 

And his eyes. You couldn’t fathom looking into him in fear that you’d be completely swept into them, lost in his gaze forever. His eyes were like pools of pure bronze, and you could feel yourself melting into them. Every time you looked into them it was like you could imagine an entire life and future with him by your side, living together and sneaking around in love.

But you also had to cope with the idea that it wasn’t real.

The worst part about it was when you knew you’d be seeing him. Your friend groups had a major overlap, so any gathering you knew you would be seeing him. Like tonight. You made yourself look a bit nicer, and you had to tell yourself it wasn’t because you’d be seeing Wilbur – even if you knew it was a lie. The bar would be dark, so there was almost no point to making sure you looked so nice. You felt the need to do it anyways. 

When you showed up, most of your friends were already there. Wilbur was too. He wore this brown button up, with the sleeves pulled up, and fuck he must know what he’s doing to you. He had to know. His arms were muscular from playing guitar, and they were an impressive sight. You had to force your eyes to move on as you approached. 

Everyone greeted you as you sat, smiling around at everyone as you lost yourself in the drone of the music and conversation. You refrained from looking over at Wilbur, too worried you’d lose yourself in your own staring. It was tough, though. He was like the sun in an otherwise dark bar, and he always seemed to catch your attention. You had to keep reminding yourself to look away, which made you pay less attention to the conversation your friends were having.

That ended up being a mistake, within minutes you realized that the majority of your friends were leaving, except for, of course, Wilbur. It was awkward, at least to you. He seemed perfectly content to sit there and look out at the people around him, just quietly observing. 

The observation fell final when it reached you, somewhat zoned out at you stared at him and pondered a future that could never be.

“You alright?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry,” you flushed slightly, looking away.

He chuckled, “it’s alright. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been good,” you spoke plainly, “You? How’s the band?”

“Good!” He perked up at the mention of the band, “We’ve been working on music and stuff, and it’s been going really well. If it weren’t so loud, I’d show you some, I have a bunch of voice memos on my phone.” He spoke so enthusiastically, and it made your heart hurt slightly. 

“Another time then,” you smiled softly, trying to be as polite despite the mixture of pining and anxiety in your chest. 

He nodded, “yeah, another time.” He went quiet, but it wasn’t for long. A girl approached from the bar, coming over and chatting him up. That was a big thing. Wilbur wasn’t just attractive to you, he was just attractive. Everyone wanted him. And although he was polite and always turned them down, for whatever reason, it still was a sight to see. He could have anyone he wanted, and the chances you could handle that thought, especially in a relationship, were not high. But it wouldn’t stop your fantasizing. 

Of his eyes, staring at you full of love instead of polite friendliness. Of running your hands through his soft hair and watching it fall back into place. Of making a place in his life, a t-shirt left behind in his room after you go home in the evening. Of walking in his room barefoot to join him in bed at night. Of going to dinner parties and having loving arguments. Of moving to a coastal town together to get away from the noise of city life.

But the fantasies would always fade. And part of you hated them. Because of the blush they left on your face and the way they would always keep you from being able to see him as just a friend. Because moments like this, a girl slowly running her hand down his arm, reminded you of just how unreal your fantasizing is, and how it could never be.

The girl left after what was clearly striking out, and Wilbur turned back towards the table, a faint blush left on his cheeks. It was such a beautiful sight, but you had to keep yourself from getting lost in the fantasies once more, lest you embarrass yourself for all of time to come. 

“Sorry,” Wilbur hummed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, happens often?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes.”

“You never say yes.” You noted simply.

He nodded, “Yeah. Just… nothing against them, but I have my eyes sort of set on someone, so it’s not really within my best interests to entertain one night stands at best.”

You chuckled, but you felt your heart sinking slightly, “I guess that makes sense.”

He nodded again, looking away almost shyly. 

The rest of the night was a lot smoother after your friends returned, making the conversation flow easily. By the end of the night, you were exhausted emotionally and socially. You were one of the first to leave, standing outside and waiting for your taxi. The door opened behind you, but you didn’t turn to see who it was. 

Wilbur came and stood next to you, fiddling with his hands, “So, uhm,” he started, “another time?”

You looked over at him, a bit confused, “What?”

“You said another time, inside. I was wondering… when you’d like that to be.”

You faltered a bit, somewhat unsure of what to say, “Uh, I’m free whenever, I guess.”

He smiled softly, “Well, I have a band rehearsal on Tuesday. Would you… want to come?”

You thought for a moment. You should turn it down, knowing how hard it would be on you. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. “Yeah. Sure. Text me the address?”

He nodded softly, face lit up, “Yeah! I will, absolutely. I’ll- uh- I’ll see you then.”

You smiled softly and nodded, “See you then.”

Your cab pulled up, and you watched as Wilbur headed back in. You got in the cab, a gentle smile on your face as you couldn’t help but have a flicker of hope in your chest for the future.

[mohntilyet]

bats eyelashes do you have any resources on tyche’s backstory. if not would you like to talk about her <3 anything about her in fact <3 i love her so and i especially love her with lucanis even though i know she is going through the horrors tm as soon as veilgaurd ends and she has to deal with his whole crow family. feel free to talk about her emotions over that whole ordeal too because I’m very interested in it and I like your thoughts about how it would down!! just shaking my cup at you atp spare tyche pls. much love!!

tyche is. yeah. “i’m the only normal person here” is a thought she has had multiple times throughout this game and it’s only true to an extent. because everyone else around her just leads very intense lives. a woman who thinks the only way out is through but instead of finding a path out she thinks she can just chainsaw her way out of the hedge maze if it gets her to her destination faster. chronically unable to say “i love you” and avoids getting attached. this whole thing was meant to parallel solas a little and the talk they have in the fade where she’s like “…was there nobody in the inquisition you care about” is almost desperate. solas picks up on that like it’s a surprise tool that will him him later

(rest under the cut because i literally just keep going sorry anon)

particularly, a big thing for her is her family, her life in rivain, and how she spends most of this game tearing herself up about it and refusing to get them involved in this ‘saving the world’ bullshit she’s doing. woman who writes to her mother and says “everything is fine. this is the easiest job i’ve ever done. the elven gods are stupid as fuck btw” and the letter is about weisshaupt LOL .. one of the craziest things in vg for me was finding out just how many personal quests involved the companion’s families, because the more she saw her friends lose the more it solidified this idea in her mind that she has done the right thing by isolating her family. she’s usually very direct but this is the one thing she’s very touchy about.

the ‘tevinter slave’ thing that a lord of fortune rook mentions to me is a full out lie told by tyche so no one goes digging into her business. she originally went into this thinking “they less we know about each other, the better. i have a life to get back to after this” and then fails miserably at trying to stay detached and finds herself really liking everyone AND fully inserts herself into their business. she can’t just hear things like “my brother is being manipulated” “my mom doesn’t care about me” “my grandmother is gone” “my baby skeleton son who has done no wrong” “the dwarves need us” “i have to save the griffons. the identity crisis doesn’t matter so much” “i love my hometown and i can’t save it” etc etc and not desperately want to do something to help

sort of meta wise as well because people have critiqued how it’s always rook helping, but not the companions asking rook if they need anything. not to me. not if that was on purpose. a kind of, “i can fix this, and then we can all go home. because that’s what i want, of course. nevermind how these guys have changed my life. i’m sure the hole in my heart doesn’t mean anything”. AND its HEAVY on the lucanis romance. every moment she spends with him, the worse she falls in love, and the more she’s convinced there’s nothing but tragedy to come when he leaves her for the crows. the nuclear level fallout that almost occurs when lucanis says he’ll stay with her as long as he can hold off the crows is so bad. she takes her own duties so seriously and doesn’t expect herself to be what changes things, for anyone. not even necessarily because of low self esteem, but that she is the most pragmatic woman alive, and to a fault <3

you can imagine the weeks when she’s trapped in the fade prison when her family actually shows up like “minrathous just got nuked and my daughter is nowhere to be seen. something has to be wrong. what the fuck happened” and everyone gets about a month to come to terms with the fact that tyche has lied for the better part of a year (not sure about veilguard timeline. i think its minimum 4 months) and unfortunately have to find out a lot more about her through her siblings, and get to stew on that information for a while. i picture awkward conversations and maybe some bickering, and it’s lucanis who is like “well right now she’s dead. so can we focus on getting her back so we can actually talk with her?” <- man who bared his whole life to her and found out she didn’t do the same. i love self sabotage. i think they have a very long talk when she gets back, and the last minute sex has to be shifted a bit in my mind to make some room for what tyche assumes will be a break up speech that turns into a declaration of love and patience. this rewires her brain

aaand the crow stuff (sorry it has taken so long to get here) makes more sense to everyone and how tyche has reacted when they see how much of a unit her family is. tyche can’t picture the kind of betrayal and fighting because she has never experienced it. there’s probably some longing from lucanis here (🌀🌀 oooh you wanna leave your fucked up home sooo bad 🌀🌀) . illario in particular to her is absolutely unthinkable, and despite my adoration for him, tyche hates his guts <3 she also is very close with her grandma and doesn't at all understand caterina, but she's also primed to expect the best from family and it doesn't totally compute what caterina has done until lucanis (or illario. the angst potentials of it coming from illario compel me) actually spells it out for her and then the family dinners get REALLY bad