#I'm going to have to resolve this in the next installment

[winxanity-ii]

⌜I Love, Robot | Chapter 05 Chapter 05 | containment breach⌟

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As you settled back into the captain's bridge, the crackling voice of Tyler suddenly broke through on the intercom, his words garbled and frantic. "It is a form of shutdown. Andy, the door. Fuck! He is not authorized to open the door," you could barely make out the urgency in his voice, signaling something had gone terribly wrong.

Navarro rushed over to the communication panel, her expression tense. "What's going on?" she demanded, her voice sharp with concern.

From the intercom, Tyler's voice emerged clearer this time, his frustration palpable. "We're locked in the cryo-chamber. Someone triggered a lockdown, and Andy can't override it—it needs higher clearance."

Bjorn's sneering tone followed, laced with disdain. "The piece of trash can restart the ship but can't open the fucking door to a different room?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a snarly comment. "Why would they even think Andy had the credentials for that? It's not like he's been programmed with full admin rights," you muttered, the irony of their reliance yet dismissal of Andy not lost on you.

Rain's voice then pleaded through the intercom, her tone desperate. "Y/N, can you do anything to help?"

For a moment, a wicked thought flashed through your mind: to leave the two men locked inside since, after all, Andy was just a machine and could survive without food or water. But your better instincts prevailed.

Grumbling, you grabbed your satchel filled with small tools and your tablet, capable of jailbreaking many machines and codes.

As you stood, Rain's hopeful voice carried over from the men's frustration, "Y/N can probably get them out."

Navarro, however, sounded skeptical as she joined you in preparing to leave. "I'm not sure. Honestly, if Andy can't open the door, she probably can't either. He is a Weyland-Yutani synth. We're just intruders."

Rain, undeterred, insisted, "Still, she can try..."

With a resigned sigh, you followed Navarro and Rain through the airlock onto the Romulus, leaving Kay behind on the hauler.

As you stepped through the airlock, your mind was a tumult of conflicting emotions, yet determined to resolve the situation, not just for Andy's sake but to prove that when it came to family—biological or constructed—you don't abandon them.

The station was in shambles, with evidence of damage everywhere you looked. Panels hung off the walls, sparks occasionally erupting from exposed wires.

The dim lighting gave the corridor an eerie, flickering ambiance, casting long shadows that twisted and turned as you moved.

Nearby, a large hole in the floor appeared to have been corroded by some acidic substance. The air was heavy, filled with the sharp, metallic scent of ionized air, mingling with the acrid tang of the acid.

But what caught your attention most was the damaged synthetic lying against the wall; its casing cracked open, revealing a maze of wires and circuits.

You, Navarro, and Rain rushed toward the cryo-chamber, the sounds of struggle growing louder with each step. When you arrived, you found Bjorn and Tyler trying to open the cryo-storage, their movements swift and determined.

Hooking up your tablet to the chamber door's control panel, you began to frantically input commands, trying to override the lockdown.

Your fingers flew across the screen, but each attempt was met with a denial.

Navarro, peering over your shoulder before turning to Rain, asking, "Do you have any ideas?"

"Not yet," the girl replied, her voice tinged with frustration.

Then, in a flash of inspiration, Rain turned and sprinted toward the damaged synthetic. She pushed on its port, extracting a small disc—a module that might hold the key to ending the lockdown. She quickly moved to install the extracted module into Andy, hoping it would grant him the necessary clearance.

Navarro, puzzled and anxious, called out, "What are you doing?"

"If the module works, it can transfer its authorization to Andy so he can open the door."

Meanwhile, Bjorn, still pulling at the locked door in frustration, yelled back to Rain, "It's stuck!" He then rushed to the back of the chamber to grab something to bang on the door with, his patience worn thin.

Andy, observing Bjorn's actions, cautioned, "Maybe we shouldn't touch anything, it might—"

Bjorn snapped back as he returned, wielding a piece of metal, "Shut the hell up, it's hot in here."

As you watched through the glass, a sense of unease settled in your stomach despite understanding the necessity of the module swap.

You watched as Rain retrieved the disk from the damaged synthetic before rushing over to the cryo-storage door, passing the small disk to Tyler through the narrow slot in the door. "Here. This is from the synthetics. Try putting it in Andy's module," she instructed urgently, her voice tinged with hope.

Tyler, with hurried movements, pressed down on Andy's port to insert the disk. The moment the disk clicked into place, Andy's expression contorted in discomfort. "I-It hurts me terribly," he articulated, his voice strained as if the insertion of the disk caused him physical pain.

"Just hang on, Andy," Tyler murmured, his brow furrowed in concern before turning towards the door.

Bjorn, anxious to leave the overheating room, paced back and forth. "Now let's just get out," he muttered impatiently. But as he moved, he felt something wet brush across his foot in the water accumulating from the melting ice in the cryochamber. "What was that?" he exclaimed, looking down with a mixture of disgust and alarm.

"Stay straight," Tyler advised ready to leave.

Suddenly, Andy paused, his face and hands beginning to twitch unnervingly. "T-Tyler?" he called out, his voice echoing with a mix of confusion and distress.

Tyler, who had been checking the perimeter for more emerging threats, spun around upon hearing Andy's strained voice. "Andy... Shit. Did I do something wrong?" he asked, panic rising in his voice as he saw Andy frozen in place.

The stark red emergency lights casting an ominous glow over his synthetic face, his expression a mix of pain and malfunction. It mirrored the tension gripping the room—every line of his features etched with the struggle of the conflicting commands ripping through his circuitry.

From behind the safety of the glass, you watched, your heart pounding with worry. "He's just rebooting. It takes a few minutes," you called out, trying to reassure them despite the dread filling your own chest. The image of Andy's strained face haunted you, reflecting the tension and uncertainty of the moment.

Tyler's voice echoed with concern as Bjorn's frustration manifested in a sudden splash of water, kicking up debris and sending ripples through the chamber. "What are you doing? Bjorn! Stop that shit."

"There is something in the water," Bjorn replied, his voice tight with tension.

"What is it?" Tyler demanded, scanning the murky depths.

"No idea, but it's in the water." Just as Bjorn spoke, something small and swift darted through the water, leaping onto Andy and knocking him down with surprising force. "What the hell was that!?" Bjorn yelled, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Andy!" you shouted from behind the glass, panic seizing your voice. "Bjorn, help him!'

Andy, still recovering from his reboot, slowly came back online. His systems stabilized just as Bjorn, cursing under his breath, helped him to his feet. Meanwhile, Tyler fought off the few swift, shadowy things swirling in the water.

"Come on, come on, come on! Hurry, Andy!" you urged as Andy, now regaining his functionality, touched the interface. The doors slid open just in time, allowing the trio to stumble out, escaping the watery trap.

"Come on, Bjorn! Tyler!" Navarro called out, rushing alongside you as all five of you made a desperate run for it.

Just as you all escaped, one of the creatures, however, was quick and managed to escape just as the cryo-chamber door slammed shut behind you, locking dozens of the other creatures behind it.

Your heart raced as you all sprinted towards the safety of the lab.

The sharp, muffled scream that followed turned your blood cold. Whipping your head around, the sight that greeted you halted your breath—a creature, like something out of a nightmare, had latched onto Navarro's face.

Andy stood slightly in front of you as if trying to shield you from the unfolding horror. You peeked over his shoulder, your hands trembling, as Navarro thrashed on the ground. Rain could only stand next to you in horror as everything unfolded.

Tyler and Bjorn were quick to react, their hands desperately trying to pry the creature off, but its grip was like iron.

The creature's tail was tightly wrapped around Navarro's neck, making every attempt to remove it perilous.

Tyler's voice was tense as he shouted instructions, trying to coordinate their efforts without causing further harm to Navarro. "Pull it! Pull it that way!"

"Fuck! I-I'm trying!" Bjorn's curses filled the air, his usual bravado drowned out by urgency and fear.

The creature's resilience was horrifying; it seemed to tighten its grip in response to their attempts.

The sight of Navarro, struggling and suffocating under the creature's hold, was almost too much to bear. Andy's presence was a small comfort, his large frame providing a physical barrier between you and the chaos.

The sight was unbearable—the creature's tail coiled like a vice around Navarro's neck, cutting off her air.

"Keep pulling! We have to get it off her!" Tyler barked, his voice strained with desperation. Bjorn, face set in grim determination, renewed his efforts, his hands slipping against the slick, sinewy body of the creature.

You knew if they didn't act fast, she wouldn't make it.

"Lift her up!" you commanded, stepping forward, your voice cutting through the chaos. "We need to get her to the main lab, now!"

Bjorn and Tyler exchanged a quick, frantic glance before complying. Bjorn, with a grunt of effort, scooped Navarro up, supporting her head and shoulders, while Tyler grabbed her legs.

Together, they moved quickly but carefully, carrying her down the narrow corridor toward the main science lab.

You ran ahead, clearing a path through the debris, heart pounding in your chest, every second stretching into an eternity.

Once inside the lab, they laid Navarro on the floor, her body convulsing slightly under the creature's weight. The lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows across the room, as if even the station itself was unsettled by the scene unfolding within its walls.

Tyler and Bjorn immediately resumed their attempts to remove the creature, but with every pull, the tail only seemed to tighten around Navarro's neck, her face growing paler, her breaths more ragged.

You could feel the panic rising in your chest as Navarro's breaths grew shorter and more desperate under the tight grip of the creature.

Rain's voice was frantic, filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "It's suffocating her! Stop! It's suffocating her!"

You could hear the panic in her voice, mirroring the fear coursing through your own veins. "Stop, Bjorn! Stop, goddammit! It's about to kill her!" you shouted, your voice a desperate plea.

But Andy's voice cut through the din, calm and devoid of emotion, sending a chill down your spine. "I don't think that's what the creature is doing."

Both you and Rain snapped your heads toward him, taken aback by the sudden change in his tone. It was as if something in him had shifted—his voice sounded colder, more detached, almost clinical. "Andy?" Rain asked, a note of confusion and fear in her voice.

Andy didn't look up. His eyes were fixed on Navarro and the creature, observing with an unnerving intensity. "The rhythmic pulse of the creature's abdomen is in time with her breathing," he noted, squatting down to get a closer look. "This suggests it's providing her with oxygen to keep her alive, though the reason remains unknown."

Realizing something was wrong Rain blinked, her fear turning into bewilderment. "What the—Andy, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Andy blinked, tilting his head to the side, his expression blank. "I'm an N-D-255 Weyland-Yutani synth with mining and guard functions. You called me 'Andy.' That is not my name."

You cursed under your breath, frustration boiling over. "That fucking module," you muttered, running a hand through your hair and gripping it in exasperation.

You knew the module would have altered him, but this… this was something else entirely.

Rain moved forward, reaching out to remove the module from Andy's neck, but before she could make contact, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising force. "Your name is Andy," she insisted, her voice firm, trying to remind him of who he was—or who he used to be.

Andy hummed, seemingly oblivious to her plea. He looked down at his hands and arms, turning them slowly as if seeing them for the first time. "The new module has upgraded both my powers and my AI," he explained with an unsettling calmness. "I am now in the process of repairing my motor system. A much-needed upgrade."

Bjorn, panting heavily from his efforts to remove the creature, shot a glare at Andy. "That's it, I'm roasting this shit," he growled, reaching for his weapon, ready to burn the creature off Navarro.

But before he could act, Andy's voice sliced through the room like a blade, cold and commanding. "No!"

Everyone jumped, startled by the sudden sharpness in his tone. For a moment, the room fell into a tense silence, everyone's eyes on Andy. "The current will cause its tail muscle to break her neck," he stated, his voice devoid of emotion but carrying an unmistakable weight of authority.

Bjorn, his frustration boiling over, snapped back, "What the hell do you want us to do, huh? What?"

Tyler, more composed but equally desperate, asked, "Do you know how we can help her?"

Andy remained silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the creature with a clinical detachment. "My databases are unchanged. I don't know what the creature is or how it can be removed." His gaze shifted to the damaged synthetic lying on the ground nearby. "But there is possibly someone in the room who does."

Following Andy's line of sight, Rain's eyes widened in realization. She turned to Tyler, her voice urgent. "Move that synthetic up onto the table! If we can reactivate it, maybe it can help us understand what we're dealing with."

Tyler nodded, and with Bjorn's help, they quickly lifted the mangled machine onto the lab table. Rain wasted no time.

You watched as she hooked the synthetic onto the motherboard computer behind it, your heart still racing, hoping desperately that this long shot might give them the answers they needed.

The hum of the machines filled the tense silence of the lab, their lights flickering as they whirred back to life. You could feel the tension in the room, thick and suffocating, as the weight of Navarro’s fate pressing down on all of you.

Finally, the synthetic sputtered to life, its head jerking slightly as if waking from a long slumber. His eyes flickered open, blinking slowly, filled with a vacant, eerie emptiness as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

His face and uniform were in a state of disarray, covered in grime and torn in places, revealing parts of his damaged, synthetic frame beneath. His shirt was soaked with a strange liquid—likely a mix of synthetic fluids and other substances—creating a sticky, uneven coating over his torso.

His movements were jerky and uncoordinated, his limbs twitching sporadically as if they struggled to respond to his internal commands. His left arm, twisted and partially mangled, hung at an unnatural angle, further highlighting the extent of his deterioration.

A large portion of his chest was missing, exposing the internal machinery and wiring, now sparking intermittently with blue and white lights.

He seemed to be fighting against his failing systems, his face contorted in an expression that might have been pain, confusion, or both.

"Must… secure… substance Z-01," he muttered, his voice halting and mechanical, filled with a strange urgency. "Highest priority. Must… complete the mission." His eyes were wide, his gaze unfocused as he repeated the words, almost like a mantra, its programming overriding its awareness, his programming seemingly overriding his awareness of his own damaged condition.

As you observed him, it became clear that the synthetic—Officer Rook, according to his nameplate—was barely functional—a ghost of his former self, struggling against both his failing systems and the urgency of his directive.

Andy stepped forward. "It pains me to say, but you have failed your mission."

Rook turned his head sharply, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "What? No, I…" His voice faltered, the words trailing off into a hollow silence, as if he was trying to process this new information.

You moved closer to Andy, your heart racing, a mix of fear and urgency driving your actions. "How can we help her?"

Officer Rook slowly turned to face you, his gaze steady but distant he looked up from Navarro's twitching form. "You must not help her. You must escape. Hurry away," he said, his tone eerily calm, as if stating an obvious fact.

Bjorn, still holding on to a sliver of hope, shook his head defiantly. "Nah, no. We are not leaving her," he said, his voice hard and resolute.

Rook's expression remained unchanged, his voice mechanical and emotionless. "So show mercy and kill her. Otherwise, you will all die."

Rain turned to Andy, her face a mix of confusion and horror. "What does he mean?"

Andy looked at Rook, his synthetic eyes unblinking. "What does it do to her?"

Rook's head tilted slightly, as if trying to recall something from deep within his memory banks. "The parasitoid implants a Plagiarus praepotens in her. There, it will absorb her DNA and grow out of her," he explained, the words clinical, devoid of empathy.

Andy pressed on, his voice almost a whisper. "What will grow out of her?"

Rook's gaze shifted slightly, his voice now carrying a weight of grim certainty. "Xenomorph XX121. One of our ships came into contact with the specimen here two decades ago. Only one of the USS Nostromo's crew survived and blew the creature out of the airlock. We've been looking for it ever since. The xenomorph was brought on board, presumed dead. But lack of oxygen and food has no real meaning for this perfect organism. But nothing is immortal. Obviously. It razed the station until our surviving soldiers shot it and triggered its swan song."

You glanced around the room, your eyes catching on the large hole in the wall, the metal corroded and eaten away. "Acid blood?" you asked quietly, piecing together the horrors you'd read about in old reports and the devastation around you.

Rook nodded, confirming your fears. "Sulfuric and hydrochloric acid. I sealed the station, but too late."

Bjorn's patience snapped, his face contorted in anger and fear. "We are very happy with your ship! Now get to the fucking point on how to help my damn sister!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the lab, filled with desperation.

Rook turned his gaze back to Bjorn, his expression as cold and mechanical as ever. "There's no saving her," he said bluntly. "Just save yourselves while you still have time."

Tyler's eyes were wide with desperation, refusing to accept the cold truth presented by Rook. "There must be a way," he insisted. His gaze shifted to you and then back to the androids, seeking answers where there seemed to be none.

Bjorn's frustration boiled over, his movements erratic as he turned sharply to face both Rook and Andy. "No! There's gotta be a way! I'm not leaving without my sister!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "You two are fucking androids, figure it out!"

"Calm down, Bjorn," Tyler urged, trying to steady his own nerves even as his hands shook. "But he's right—there's got to be something we can do…"

Your mind raced, scanning the lab for anything that could help. As you paced around, your foot accidentally knocked into a knocked-over canister.

You glanced down and saw the label: cryofuel. The very thing that had been the reason for prolonging the original mission.

A spark of hope ignited in your mind. "What if we use the cryofuel to freeze the root of its tail?" you suggested, the idea spilling out in a rush. "Then it might stop suffocating her."

Rook paused, his head tilting slightly as if considering the idea. "It is a possibility."

Without wasting a second, you grabbed the canister and moved quickly to Navarro. Tyler and Bjorn helped hold her still as you carefully applied a controlled spray of cryofuel at the base of the creature’s tail, aiming to freeze the root without harming Navarro.

The creature shuddered violently, its grip loosening slightly. "Now!" you shouted.

Tyler and Bjorn pulled at the same time, and with a sickening squelch, the facehugger was dislodged, falling to the ground with a thud.

Rain immediately recoiled, her voice a sharp cry of fear. "Get it away!" Tyler was quick to dispose of the creature in the large hole.

Bjorn pulled Navarro into his arms, his breath coming in quick, panicked bursts as he held her close. "It's gone. I have you," he whispered, trying to soothe her as she panted and looked around, disoriented and scared.

Rook, however, remained unshaken, his gaze fixed on Navarro. "I'm not so sure about that."

A ripple of confusion spread through the group, but Andy's expression grew serious, catching onto Rook’s meaning. "What are the odds?"

Rook's reply was matter-of-fact, as though stating the weather. "60/40 against your friend."

Rain's face twisted with confusion and fear. "The odds for what? Andy, what's he's talking about?" she demanded.

Rook's blank gaze shifted towards her, his voice coldly factual. "For the creature to finish its mission, of course."

A cold dread settled over the group. As Rain, Bjorn, Tyler, and you crowded around Navarro, checking on her condition and trying to offer comfort, you noticed Andy speaking quietly with Rook out of the corner of your eye.

Something about their exchange caught your attention—an urgency, a quiet intensity in their otherwise emotionless faces.

You broke away from the group, moving closer to hear their conversation. Just as you approached, you caught Rook’s final words to Andy, his tone unusually commanding. "...You must help them. You must help them."

The statement hung in the air, filling you with a mix of confusion and dread.

As you all headed back to the Corbelan, the events of the past few minutes weighed heavily on everyone, each step echoing with uncertainty and fear.

Andy's normally calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a focused intensity that sent a chill down your spine. His directives, altered by Rook's module, seemed to drive him toward a single, unyielding conclusion.

When the group reached the airlock leading to the hauler, you noticed Andy pause, his eyes fixed on Navarro. His posture stiffened, and his gaze was unnervingly blank, as if processing a difficult decision.

You gently touched his arm to get his attention. "Andy? What's wrong? Do you know what's happening?" you asked softly, your voice laced with concern.

Andy stared at you for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before turning his gaze back to Navarro. "We can't take her back to the ship," he declared firmly, stepping forward to block the exit to the airlock connecting to the hauler.

Bjorn's reaction is immediate. Fear and frustration boiling over, he grabbed a large stun baton from the nearby equipment rack. "You deranged pig!" he shouted, rage filling his eyes as he prepared to charge at Andy.

You rushed between them, raising your hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey, calm down!" you pleaded, your voice steady despite the rising panic. "I'm sure he's got a reason. Let's see what he has to say!"

Bjorn looked at you, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions—hurt, anger, desperation. His arm dropped slightly, but his voice was still laced with bitterness. "Y/N…" he muttered, but the hurt quickly morphed back into anger. "Fuck off! I'm not keeping my sister here! You can stay behind with your fucking boy toy all you want," he spat, his voice dripping with venom as he turned to help Navarro up.

Together, they shuffled toward the door, but Andy quickly stepped between them and the exit again, his movements deliberate and unyielding. "You must understand that there are certain choices that must be made," he said, his tone calm yet firm. "And I'm afraid you all won't make the right one if I don't step in."

Bjorn's face twisted into a feral grin, his patience gone. "I warned you—" he growled, suddenly swinging the stun baton with brutal force.

The highest voltage coursed through Andy, causing him to convulse violently before being flung several feet away, crashing against the metal wall with a heavy thud.

"No!" you screamed, rushing over to Andy with Rain right behind you. "Andy!" Your heart pounded in your chest as you reached his side, your hands fumbling for the Reboot Key, desperate to bring him back online.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Bjorn pulled Navarro through the airlock and onto the hauler. "Let's get away. Come on, come on. Come on, Tyler," he urged, his voice tight with urgency as he dragged Navarro toward the controls.

Tyler hesitated, his eyes flickering between the leaving Bjorn and Navarro, and Rain, who was still kneeling beside you next to Andy. His face was torn with indecision, his loyalty divided. "We can't leave her," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze lingering longingly on Rain.

You could feel the weight of his choice in that moment, the pain of what it would mean to leave Rain behind.

Unfortunately, despite your efforts, Bjorn and Navarro reached the ship first.

You heard the dull thud of the airlock sealing shut, trapping you, Tyler, Rain, and Andy on the station. The cold, metallic echo reverberated through the corridor, a stark reminder of your current predicament.

Andy twitched violently from the voltage, his systems struggling to stabilize. His voice, distorted and shaky, broke the tense silence. "F-Forgive me. I have always been nothing but a burden to you. Today I can finally help you. Don't see me as a child anymore." As he finished speaking, he looked directly into your eyes, a strange mix of determination and sadness in his expression.

Then, just as quickly, his body stiffened, freezing in place as the reboot process took over.

"A-Andy?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the station around you. The fear of losing him gnawed at your insides, but you couldn't afford to panic—not now.

On the other side of the airlock, Bjorn watched the scene unfolding with a deep scowl. His face was set in a mixture of anger and sadness, his mind clearly made up. "Navarro, disconnect the ship!" he barked, his voice echoing in the enclosed space.

The overhead system chimed in, a calm but firm voice announcing, "Disconnection initiated. Please escape the airlock."

You glanced up, seeing the airlock doors sliding shut with a mechanical finality. Your heart pounded in your chest as you helped Andy to his feet, your mind racing for a way out of this.

"What the hell is he doing?" Tyler shouted, his voice tinged with frustration and confusion as he looked towards the sealed airlock.

Rain, her expression a mix of fear and resignation, answered quietly, "He thinks Andy will kill Navarro." Her eyes flickered with uncertainty as she tried to piece together Bjorn's reasoning.

Tyler turned his gaze toward Andy, who was still rebooting, his body rigid and his face expressionless. "What? Does he want it?" Tyler asked, trying to make sense of the chaotic situation.

Rain glanced back at Andy, who now stood upright, his eyes gazing intently at the side of your head as if lost in some internal process before he turned to face the airlock, his expression still unreadable. "I don't know," Rain whispered, her voice heavy with uncertainty.

Something deeper was at play, something all you needed to understand if any of you were going to make it out alive.

A/N: hey guys! i'm back with another update, but before i leave i want to be honest/frank. once again, i'm receiving messages/asks critiquing what i've written so far and though i'm thankful that my writing is garnering enough attetntion to even experince this, i just want to say that it's really kinda offputting that i'm being told that Andy shouldn't be written with the intent of romance. ima keep it short and cute because i could literally make an entire post about this (as a matter of fact i will do just that) but just understand that i will continue to create showcase Andy in the romantic light because he deserves it just as all the other cast does...

Tag List: @dreamsarenicer sadslasher13 ravenswife izzymae288 fairy-cores-world

[twosides--samecoin]

Next Gen Fallout 4 Update (PC)

The one good thing is the mod community watched the Skyrim Fishing Update happen so we can kinda prep.

Problem: The next gen update could break your mods.

Solution: Avoid the update and use F4SE.

Go to Steam Library, hit the gear icon on the Fallout 4 page. Properties > Updates > "Only update this game when I launch it."

Ensure you are launching the game via F4SE.

Result: Steam will not download background updates of Fallout 4. F4SE does not boot the game with Steam, so you have successfully bypassed any issue/mod breaking caused by the update.

Why shouldn't I update? Sounds counterintuitive not to update, but mod authors are hobbyists and regular people like you and me; it will take time for authors to "catch up" and release updates.

When to update Fallout 4 on PC again: Up to you. Many people playing Skyrim SE still play on an older version to protect the mods they have, many mod authors have released newer versions of mods to catch up with the update.

New to modding, don't use Vortex/MO2/F4SE, but you are worried about your mods? Now's the time to install F4SE! I'm not affiliated with them, but I can attest The Midnight Ride's recommendations will give you a great basegame vanilla+ experience. If anything, it sets you up with utilities and fixes that you may not already know about.

Other things you can do, not necessary but useful: Update your current modlist! Take the time to ensure things are working. It is better to have things fixed up now and workable than having an updated game and a bunch of mods that suddenly no longer work. Look into using tools like CLAS and xEdit. These can help troubleshoot and resolve conflicts.

[fanthirtheen]

I've seen people mention Verosika's song in the background "Don't touch the pretty thing" right when Blitz is about to touch Stolas and chickens out (I noticed that immediately! Watching the first time! I loved it!) But there is so much background stuff for framing in this episode, I haven't seen any posts mentioning anything else.

I'm just going to do another obvious one from the exact same scene because it is my other favorite (so fucking heavy handed)

The cupid's heart between them. Especially in this shot. I will never bot be confident they are still in love with each other and will reconcile Stolas still loves Blitz but he's drunk and needs space and he's been begging Blitz to go away/give him space all episode and the first step for them is Blitz fucking listening and giving him space.

What I want most out of this show (as an author, as an appreciatior of plot and character development) is for Stolas to experiment and experience the world outside of Stella and Blitz (two ends of the spectrum for him, one whose relationship was horrible for him and one whom he truly loves and is absolutely end game for him, he needs the middle) and HAVE FRIENDS I am completely neutral toward Vassago at the moment I don't know anything about the guy but I really really don't want them to be romantically involved because I want Stolas to have friends so so so badly.

Also, from a story telling perspective, I also really really want them to not get back together at the very last second. This show does so amazing at showing relationships in ways other shows are honestly too cowardly to do. Messy, clean, loving, etc. I once saw a post on here complaining that Ozzie and Fizz are boring/leaving the show because they're in a healthy loving relationship and I eas so upset because that's good! We can have that depicted in a show and it be a wonderful addition! Not everything needs to be angst and drama and will-they-wont-they! You can have plot-driving conflict and drama with a healthy loving couple too!

But back to Stolitz, this show is so unapologetically gay that they have 0 reason to do the dumb "they can only getting ogether at the very end of the show because we don't want to depict a loving gay relationship" thing other shows do. And yes, they're end game, they will be together by the end, but from a storytelling perspective, I really want to see them work it out and be casual for a while before the end. That's something we don't get in other shows, and as much as this show does things others don't, I want that too. Romance is not the end-all-be-all, it is something these tow need, but it doesn't need to be the end-fulfillment of the show. Yes, the show is kind of about them, but it isn't JUST about them, and I want to see them table the other conflicts driving the show onward together.

Despite what other people on here say, the writers are not cowards. I genuinely have faith they can follow through on all the background imagery and foreshadowing and shit they put in for these two. With as much emphasis has been on Stolitz in season 2, and with the fact we know there will be more seasons after, I would love the majority of this Stolitz angst to be resolved so we can see a new arc for the next season. Not completely resolved, maybe, because again, this show does great at showing more realistic relationship dynamics and only in a cartoon could you unpack all their trauma and bullshit and resolve it in 3 more episodes.

I'm just so excited still and I am procrastinating working on my Childhood Friends third installment. I'm at the Hard Part of the first chapter and was rewatching Apology Tour for 100% completely related reasons.

[liciapeonia]

It's over for us

Jinx x reader

It's sad and a bit exaggerated, it's almost two in the morning, I'm dying of sleep, I haven't revised it, I just had an idea and wrote it down.

The night was cold with a heavy air the time had stopped like the clock she had made for you there was no click or tack what you had was over a fissure that could never be mended and that would leave an irreparable scar in your heart, everything you thought you knew about her died, she was gone forever, the moments of happiness when it was only laughter when you could feel the intimacy of her being only through her eyes, when you could cry in her arms and then fall asleep with a feeling of peace in your chest.

Your Jinx had died but you didn't want to accept it, it was one of the cruelest truths and you hadn't been ready before but now the world seemed to have opened up and everything was as clear as water. She's not what you thought she was and if before she was what you thought she was now she's someone else, everything she abhorred everything she hated the most is exactly what she's now.

After Silco died you tried to be with her and help her but she didn't want your help she didn't want you, she was always fighting with you, always shouting, she hated you, saying things as if you were insignificant, you thought it was grief and that everything would resolve itself with time, you would let these things pass because you knew or thought you knew who she was and that she would come back to her senses and be that wonderful caring girl from before…

On an ordinary night you would pass by the Silco Room, which was practically Jinx's new bedroom, just to make sure that she was well fed or if she needed anything, but when you got to the bar you noticed that a big celebration was taking place, and it had been a long time since there had been so much excitement in the bar. The place was filled with drunk people, lots of sweaty bodies dancing to the frantic music playing and the lights kept flashing, it was mind-blowing.

Passing through a sea of people you arrive near the bar table to ask Chuck what was going on but at the exact moment you were about to call him you notice a familiar being sitting with his legs open on a sofa with his characteristic blue hair, it was impossible not to recognize him, JInx and next to him a woman, the question wasn't what the woman looked like or who she was but how Jinx looked at her, she was looking with desire at something she hadn't seen for a long time and in an installation of fingers you realize that you can't fight for something that doesn't exist.

You spend a while staring at her … she notices your gaze and looks at you … then back to the woman and kisses her, you look away, you can't stand the sight of that scene, so you leave that stuffy, hot environment, the contrast with the air outside the bar makes the hairs on your arm stand on end, walking calmly through the streets of Zaum you come to an abandoned building that had a kind of observatory on top, it was the place where most of your meetings with Jinx took place, arriving at the top you could see the whole of Zaum on one side and the large buildings of Piltover on the other.

“By love” you write a note to jinx and leave.

Kiss and cheese

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Hratgrog

This week's installment is once again coming kind of late in the evening -- and a bit less wordy than usual -- because I just got back from the ICMS conference at Kalamazoo last night and have been running around doing stuff all day. So, sorry about that.

Anyway, also worth noting that a surprising number of people have indicated that they know this one.

If you aren't sure what this is about, you can find an explanation and previous posts at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

You can also find the entry people are working from here:

If you want to participate in the next installment, you can find the entries posted under the tag maniculum bestiaryposting. Also, to make it easier on y'all, here's the current one:

Anyway, art below the cut in the order it was posted:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) took the description of the animal's behavior and designed a bird who could feasibly fit that -- if you want the details on what birds went into this and why, they're in the linked post. I particularly like the iridescent effect on the feathers.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) also drew a bird, but went in a different direction with the references, eschewing them entirely on the grounds that the monks probably didn't have any references on hand. I think the "colour of a wild sea" comes out well here.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) decided to resolve the issue of the wings being sapphire but also "sheathed in silver" by making the Hratgrog a beetle with silver elytra, which I think is quite clever. Again, the colors are very good in my opinion -- and as usual, you should check the linked post for an explanation of the design.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has, as per usual, done some amazing medieval stylization. I find this landscape really pleasant, birds aside. The design of the creature is also really solid, and you can find an interesting description of why it looks the way it does in the linked post. I would particularly draw attention to the interpretation of how this bird "does not live by theft", which you will have to click the link to find out.

@strixcattus (link to post here) gives us a bird that appears to be waving to us. Again, I like the coloration here; the many lines really add to the effect. Clicking the linked post will get you Strixcattus's modern interpretation of this animal, which includes a brief explanation of why it's necessary to specify that this bird does not eat corpses.

All right, to the Aberdeen Bestiary:

Or, rather, a dove.

(The distinction drawn between dove and pigeon in modern English is not formalized or universal, but the translation I'm using says "dove".)

The description for this page in the digitized manuscript notes:

This rather plain lifeless bird does not do justice to the luscious pictorial descriptions devoted to the dove on ff.26-30r. However, raking light reveals a lustrous silvered quality to the paint.

Since the description goes on so long -- like I said, I was excerpting bits of physical description from a lengthy sermon on symbolism -- there are actually multiple illustrations. It looks like there were originally four, but two have been cut out of the manuscript. The other surviving one is as follows:

That would be the Hratgrog on the left -- the bird on the right is its antagonist, the hawk. No word on why this one doesn't get any coloration.

Anyway... how do I end this one?

Go forth and contemplate the pigeon. It's what the bestiary author would want.

[itsbenedict]

I saw a post recently that was like "I like it when stories are more confusing and ambiguous", and my initial reaction was to go "Yeah, I agree! I love being confused!"

But the thing is- I don't always love being confused. Confusion, in an of itself, is not the experience I'm looking for. What I like is the feeling of becoming more and less confused. What I'm looking for is the... average absolute value of the derivative of confusion.

Let's graph some stuff:

A good story- or at least, the kind of story I enjoy- should be something like... a roller coaster:

Some stories, like, say, your average coffee shop AU fanfic, are never confusing. These are like riding a train- you ride them to get to your destination, and there's some pretty scenery along the way, but you know exactly what you're in for and the whole thing stays at a minimum of confusion.

Other stories, like your average horror story, ramp up the confusion and just stay there, never going down, because the confusion is there to build tension and scare you, not to be resolved or anything like that.

Neither of those are my cup of tea. I want some movement- which is why I like mystery so much.

Many more straightforward mystery stories build up a stock of confusion right up front, and then reduce the confusion gradually over time, occasionally spiking a bit when a strange new clue is discovered, but mainly sloping straight downwards, like biking down a big hill. Exhilarating!

The best mysteries are the ones that are always going up and down in confusingness- introducing new questions and new answers at a pace that ensures you're always at some point becoming less confused about one thing and more confused about another, until it all wraps up at the end. The... rollercoaster analogy breaks down a bit here, since it can't be going up and down simultaneously...

The different colors are different plot threads, I guess. You've always got something resolving and something building.

Sometimes the medium is something like a long-running franchise, a series, a cinematic universe- where you can't tie every piece of confusion up at the end. Gotta have something for the next installment. These sorts of media tend to have slightly less satisfying pacing, because when you chop up a story like that, you're sacrificing satisfying conclusions to maintain an audience's interest over periods of the story not happening. You can try to find places where lots of plot threads have local minima of confusingness to break on, but it's often not going to be natural.

And sometimes you get things like Harrow the Ninth, where it stays at an 8 for most of the book and then rapidly oscillates back and forth:

or Blaseball, which just intends to monotonically increase in confusingness forever:

or… uh, whatever Homestuck thought it was doing.

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XI.

GIF by tomshiddles

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Truths are unveiled and Javi begins to regret ending things with our MC.

WORD COUNT: ~7.4k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: discussions of religion, light smut but not between our main couple (rip), another case of detective!javi, lotta plot stuff/exposition dump, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: hola primas we're back again with another installment of wtf is going on in this fic?! lmfao i had a little too much fun writing this chapter so i hope u all enjoy it and thank u for reading <3 i may or may not be an august stan idk how we feeling chat?! as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

“A woman, a mother, a mother is a very special thing, and other than the Lord Jesus Christ, I think that a mother is one of the most precious gifts that God gives to this world, because the mother is the one who loves the Lord and always seems to be there when we need her. A mother is a very special thing. A mother is a very special thing.” –– Family Tree (Intro), Ethel Cain.

“No peekin’, okay?” August whispers against her neck, his voice filled with playful insistence.

Paloma can’t help but laugh, the sound light in the quiet night. “That’s the third time you’ve told me that. I promise, I ain’t lookin’!” she assures him, her eyes squeezed shut and her free hand covering them for good measure. Her heart races with anticipation, wondering what surprise he has in store for her. She can feel his warmth and the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her forward, heightening her excitement.

Sneaking away from home had been surprisingly easy. She told her father she was going to spend the night at Sloane’s and would be back the next morning, not really feeling like doing her usual show at the bar. At first he had been skeptical, but a few well-placed batts of her eyelashes and a practiced pout later, his resolve softened and he relented with his usual father spiel. She knows she was pushing her luck, but the thrill of the evening and the promise of August’s plans makes it all worthwhile.

She was also cautious not to reveal the location of Sloane’s new home. Instead, she told him that she was just going to the motel in town, maintaining the illusion that her friend still resides there. This little deception is necessary to keep him at ease, even though it means bending the truth.

Now, she finds herself being led to a mystery spot where he has prepared their long-awaited date. She has no idea what to expect, but it doesn’t really matter. The mere fact that he has put so much effort into planning this is more than she can ask for.

As they walk, she feels the summer evening breeze brushing against her skin and the soft rustling of leaves underfoot. The night is alive with the distant chirping of crickets and the faint, sweet scent of blooming flowers.

“Just a little further,” he says softly, his voice laced with a hint of excitement that matches her own. Paloma nods, biting her lip to contain her smile. She trusts him completely, knowing that whatever awaited her would be worth the secrecy and the suspense.

They come to a halt, and he gently squeezes her hand before letting go and moving to stand behind her.

“M’kay, you can open ‘em now,” his southern drawl is like syrup in her ear, his breath warm and inviting. She blinks her eyes open, her vision adjusting to the soft glow, and she gasps softly as she takes in the scene before her.

They’re in the greenhouse, transformed into a romantic haven. Various candles are scattered around, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across the glass walls and lush greenery. In the center of the space, a picnic blanket is spread out on the floor, adorned with an assortment of dishes that she assumes make up their dinner. Cutlery and plates are neatly set aside, everything meticulously arranged.

“Oh, August…” she breathes, her voice filled with awe. Her hand instinctively comes up to clutch her chest then she turns to face him, eyes glistening with adoration. Unable to contain her feelings, she pulls him in for a sweet, lingering kiss; a silent thank you for his thoughtfulness.

“You like it?” he asks with a hint of nervousness. She takes a step forward, her eyes wide as she absorbs the sheer beauty of the setup.

The moonlight streams gently through the skylight window, casting a silvery glow over everything. She almost pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming, the scene is so perfect.

“Like it? I love it! You did this all yourself?” she exclaims in genuine admiration. The flowers that surround them appear even more delicate under the soft glow of the candlelight. Unable to resist, she leans forward to sniff at the peonies nearby, their sweet fragrance filling her nose.

“Had some help, but for the most part, yeah,” He replies with a modest smile. “Here, come sit.” He beckons her over, and she complies eagerly, settling herself next to him and smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

“Well, you outdid yourself. This is the sweetest thing ever,” she leans her body weight against her palm, gazing up at him with a gentle, appreciative stare.

“Let this be the first of many sweet things I do for you, pretty girl. You deserve it,” he replies, winking. Her blush deepens and she finds herself fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her heart fluttering at his words.

Their date goes effortlessly, filled with lighthearted flirting and laughter. He boasts about his cooking skills, and Paloma playfully challenges him, only to be quickly proven wrong when she takes her first bite of the lasagna he’s made. It’s fucking delicious.

She feels a sense of enchantment growing with every passing moment, the romantic setting amplifying her emotions. She mentally chides herself for not pursuing him sooner, for wasting time on the mustached older man who had occupied her thoughts for far too long.

They finish their meal, and just when she thinks the evening couldn’t get any better, he pulls out a small angel cake with the perfect arrangement of strawberries and whipped cream from the picnic basket.

“How did you know this is my favorite dessert of, like, all time?!” she exclaims, eyes wide with delight.

They share a knowing look before answering simultaneously, “Sloane.” Her smile widens, her cheeks aching from how the expression has hardly left her face since she arrived.

August scoops a spoonful of the cake and brings it up to her lips, his eyes twinkling with playful intent. She opens her mouth, maintaining eye contact as she takes the sweet dessert.

She moans softly as the flavors meld in her mouth, the light, airy cake complemented perfectly by the sweetness of the fresh strawberries. “Delicious,” she murmurs, savoring every bit.

He watches her, a satisfied and boyish grin on full display. “I’m glad you like it,” his voice is low, seductive. He takes a bite himself, nodding in appreciation of the treat they’re sharing.

They take turns feeding each other, and she is completely absorbed in his company. He makes her laugh, his eyes swimming with mischief and warmth, and she feels a connection she hadn’t thought possible.

She looks at him, beaming with gratitude and something more profound. “Tonight was amazing, August. You’ve really made me feel special.”

He reaches out, moving a strand of her hair that had fallen forward aside. “You are special, Paloma. And s’just the beginnin’.” He holds her stare briefly and she softens, “Night’s not over yet, girl. There’s still somethin’ I want to show ya.” His words promise more surprises, and she feels her excitement renew, eager to see what else he has for her.

“I’ll be right back,” leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips, he tastes a hint of the whipped cream lingering there and it takes all his willpower to pull away.

She sighs wistfully, watching him leave. To pass the time, she busies herself by cleaning up. She carefully moves the empty containers into the basket and stacks their dirty plates before pushing them aside.

He returns not too long after, holding what looks like a photo album. Her curiosity piques immediately. “What’s that?” she asks inquisitively, shifting in her seat so her legs are tucked beneath her as he lowers himself beside her.

“A scrapbook…” He trails off, and she can sense the nerves radiating from him. Her brows cinch together, waiting for him to continue.

“‘Fore I show you this… I need you to understand how unique you truly are.” He sets the book down between them, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek affectionately as he gazes deeply into her dark eyes. She doesn’t know what to say to this, so she remains quiet but offers him a reassuring look that encourages him to go on.

“Knew it from the moment I set eyes on ya. At the time, I didn’t know what it was. I jus’ assumed it was another crush on a pretty girl. But then I got to know you, and slowly but surely… everything started makin’ sense.”

There’s an unidentifiable tone in his voice, one that makes her heart beat a little faster. “What do you mean ‘started makin’ sense’?”

He takes a deep breath, his hand dropping from her face as he places the leather-bound book into her lap. The force of it feels significant, almost like it carries the gravity of his words.

“This is goin’ to be a lot, ‘n I understand if you dunno know how to process it all after I show you everythin’. But… can you promise to wait ‘till I explain ‘fore you react?” His eyes search hers, pleading for understanding and patience.

Her heart races with anticipation and uncertainty. “August, you’re scarin’ me,” she giggles nervously, her hands growing clammy at his elusive words.

He flips the book open to the first page, revealing a photograph of a group posing in front of a grand, old church. The faces in the picture seem frozen in time, their expressions filled with a mix of hope and solemnity.

“There was a group in Italy,” He begins slowly, “that believed a new age of peace ‘n tranquility was nearing. They devoted all their time and resources to prepare for it. They were convinced a woman would be the one to bring it into fruition, so they searched for her all over the world.”

He turns the page, revealing more photos of the group alongside the majestic church. The images capture moments of gatherings, rituals, and serene landscapes. she can’t help but feel a strange sense of connection to the story, though she remains unsure why he’s telling her this.

“Why are you showin’ me this?” she voices her thoughts, her curiosity mingling with apprehension.

“Because, Paloma,” He says, turning another page to reveal a faded, hand-drawn map marked with various locations, “They documented everythin’ , kept records, and followed signs. This group believed that the woman who would bring about this new age had certain qualities, certain... traits.”

Her eyes scan the map, noting how meticulously it’s marked, the sense of urgency and dedication evident in the detailed annotations. Her confusion deepens, but she remains silent, partially engrossed by the unfolding story.

He turns another page, revealing a photograph of a necklace, a delicate cross pendant with intricate engravings. “This pendant,” he continues, “was said to be a key, a symbol of her identity.”

Her heart races as her gaze falls to the piece of jewelry. She inhales sharply, her breath snagging. It’s the same pendent that had belonged to her mother. Her fingers absentmindedly go to her collarbone that’s bare since she opted out of wearing it tonight. “What does this have to do with me, August?”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that makes her pulse quicken. “The more I got to know you, the more I realized you embody everything this group was searchin’ for. Your kindness, your strength, your spirit—it all matches what they described.”

“Are you saying… you think I’m this woman they were looking for? Don’t be ridiculous––”

“Just let me finish.” He cuts her off, looking away briefly and trying to collect himself before relaying the next bit of information. “Then they found her. The woman they’d been preparin’ and searchin’ for. She lived halfway ‘cross the world in the orphanage where she was raised. After gettin’ in contact with her, she agreed to move to Europe.”

She listens intently, her body buzzing with a feeling she can’t explain as she absorbs his words. She waits patiently, her eyes fixed on him.

Another turn of the page, and this time, she gasps loudly as her eyes land on the photo. It’s her mother, clear as day. A photo she’s never seen before, but it’s undeniably Abilene Leighton. She is always told that she resembles her, but seeing her at about the same age Paloma is now is uncanny—they look identical.

“Mom…” Her voice trembles with emotion as her fingers trace the photo, tears welling up in her eyes. He watches her carefully, studying her reaction. He wants to give her a moment to process this revelation, to come to terms with the implications, but at the same time he’s eager to keep unveiling more.

“Her real name was Calmana. The women that raised her in the orphanage didn’t think she needed a surname. From the moment she arrived in their care, they knew she was special. Seemingly dropped off on their doorstep. No one ever adopted her. She was different from the others…” His voice is filled with reverence as he speaks, his words weaving a tale that feels so foreign.

Calmana? The name sends a shiver down her spine, leaving her speechless as her eyes trace every detail of the picture. There’s a haunting beauty to her mother’s image, a sense of mystery that lingers in the air.

He presses on, his tone solemn yet tinged with awe. “Don’t know how they did it, but they were able to figure out part of her family tree. Paloma… you come from a marked lineage, akin to the story of Cain and Abel.”

Her world stills, mind reeling at the magnitude of his words. Her heart pounds in her ears with a mixture of disbelief and wonder.

“According to some religious traditions, Cain and Abel had sisters,” He continues, his voice steady as he delves deeper into the mythic lore. “Calmana was the oldest daughter of Adam and Eve and, in plenty’a sources, the twin sister of Cain. Others say she was his wife. That would make her the first female human who was born naturally. You, your mother are direct descendants of somethin’ fuckin’ divine.”

Her mind spins with the implications of this revelation. The idea that her bloodline is tied to spiritual origins feels dreamlike. Fake. Isn’t everyone technically descendants of Adam and Eve? It’s what she’s been taught growing up.

But as she looks down at the picture again, she sees her mother in a new light—a woman with a story.

She can’t help the way her hand comes up to cover her mouth, overwhelmed by everything he’s saying. It feels like the ground beneath her has shifted, leaving her reeling in a sea of uncertainty. As he continues to flip through the book on her lap, showing proof of every bit of his story, she feels a rush of conflicting emotions—astonishment, skepticism, and a growing sense of unease.

It’s too confusing, it simply must not be true. Yet, with all the texts he’s had her read and all the books they’ve both bonded over, there is a nagging possibility that all this is actually real. The thought has goosebumps curling at her skin, her mind racing with a million questions and doubts.

“No, no way.” She shakes her head, her voice trembling as she moves the leather book off her lap and places it between them. She feels like she can’t breathe, despite being surrounded by fresh air and all this greenery. Every fiber of her being screams for escape, for a return to the familiar, to the world where such tales belong only in the books that she loves to read.

She quickly stands, her movements frantic as she turns to make her exit. August’s eyes widen in alarm, and he follows after her, his voice pleading as he reaches out to stop her.

“Paloma, wait––” His words are urgent, filled with desperation. “I asked you to wait ‘til I was finished to react. Please… just hear me out, ‘n then you can decide what it is that you wanna do.”

His words hang in the air, a silent plea for understanding and patience. She pauses, her heart pounding in her chest as she wrestles with her unrest. She knows she can’t simply walk away without giving him a chance to explain, to unravel… whatever the fuck this is.

Her back is to him and she wipes some of the tears that managed to spill. With a shaky breath, she turns to face him, her eyes searching his. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rush of blood in her ears. “I’ll listen.”

He lets out a brief sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as he beckons her over again, eager to resume the exploration of the scrapbook together. She hesitantly steps over to him, her body still trembling with the heaviness of her mother’s past as she lowers herself back into a seated position on the blanket.

“Your momma… well she was the one who was supposed t’ bring this new age into order,” He explains, his tone informative, “but the group disbanded before they could follow through with it. They lost track of one another, and she ended up here in the States with a whole new life.”

“August,” she begins, her words trembling with shock, “How do you know all this?”

A silence falls over them like a veil.

“The woman that left me all this…” His voice is somber, his gaze distant as he recalls the memories. “She was part of the original group. Told me stories whenever I helped her out. At first, I thought she was some crazy old broad, so I jus’ let her talk. Then she started showin’ me photos and all kindsa crap, and that’s when I actually started payin’ attention to her ramblings.”

Her eyes widen in realization as his words sink in. The pieces of the puzzle start to click into place, connecting the dots of the journey.

“She’s the reason I started this group, s’why I started lookin’ into things on my own. She moved away abruptly, and it wasn’t ‘til I got this house and found that scrapbook that I knew why she left it all to me. She wanted me to find that woman and carry out what they couldn’t back in Rome.”

This feels like an out-of-body experience, really, as if she is standing outside of herself, watching as her mother’s past is revealed to her.

It explains so much, she thinks, her mind jumbled as she recalls all their shared memories. How she was cagey when Paloma asked about her childhood, how she was always so vigilant of her growing up. Now that she knows this new side of her mother, she doesn’t know what to make of it. The woman she thought she knew, the woman who raised her, suddenly feels like a stranger—a mysterious figure shrouded in secrets and untold stories.

Who was she, really? Did her father know all of this?

Her silence is deafening, in the air like a dense fog, and he tentatively reaches out to caress her forearm, gently urging her to look at him. She meets his gaze, her misty-eyed expression a mix of emotions—sadness, confusion, and a glimmer of something else.

“Then I found out she had passed years ago, which left you, the next in line to fulfill this… prophecy,” He continues, his voice soft yet filled with conviction.

“Me?!” She can’t help but snort, though it’s tinged with tears. The idea feels absurd, impossible.

“Yes, you, my little dove,” He replies with unwavering intensity. “I told ya you were special, ‘n you can’t sit here ‘n tell me you haven’t felt the magic that’s embedded in your bones. You’re one of a kind, Paloma. A gift to humankind that must be treasured. Think of all the pain and suffering in this world… think of how you can be the one to end it all.”

The enormity of this newfound responsibility is too big for her to fathom. She looks into his eyes, spotting the earnestness and sincerity there, and for the first time, she allows herself to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s truth in the stories that are intertwined with her own life.

As they sit together in the quiet of the greenhouse, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and the scent of flowers, she feels a sense of purpose stirring deep within her—a spark of something powerful, waiting to be unleashed upon the world.

He was right. This is a lot.

Her face must say it all because he draws nearer, enveloping her in his comforting embrace. She doesn’t move at first, but then he places a soft kiss to the crown of her head, and she lets herself go. Her shoulders drop, a heavy sigh leaving her as the weight of it all settles in her chest.

“If you need time ‘n space to process this––I understand,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “I jus’ had to tell you, angel. Had to make sure everythin’ was alright before I dropped it on your lap. Knew if I had told you the first day we met you woulda called me crazy ‘n sent me on my way.”

“M’tempted to do that now…” she mutters jokingly against his neck, nuzzling her face there and taking a deep breath, letting his scent fill her lungs in an attempt to ground herself.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest, and she melts further into his touch. “Go ahead. Told ya you were free to do as you pleased after I was finished… ‘n well… s’all I have for ya.”

Okay, there are no more twists. That comforts her some. She pulls back to look up at him, her tear-stained cheeks and beautiful brown eyes glowing softly under the romantic lighting, making her look breathtaking. Like a true angel, one that can bring so much good into this world.

Her mind is still reeling, but in his arms, she feels a sense of security. “This is a lot to take in, August,” she whispers, her voice barely steady.

His eyes soften, and he gently brushes a strand of hair from her face again. “You’re stronger than you think, Paloma. ‘N whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. You’re not alone in this.”

His words wrap around her like a warm blanket. Much needed reassurance. She takes another deep breath, feeling the overwhelming storm of emotions begin to settle.

She leans in to press their lips together and he hesitates at first. He murmurs her name in protest, but she deepens the kiss with a sense of urgency. Her lips are soft and plump, molding against his with a fervor that he can’t resist. The heat between them is palpable, the shift in the air thick with their shared desire.

His resolve drops as he succumbs to her. It’s not long after that he’s got her spread out on the blanket, naked and his tongue buried in her cunt while her fingers tangle in his hair. 

She cries his name out while she comes, her legs trembling as he kisses his way up her body, whispering sweet affirmations and filthy promises against her skin.

You deserve the world. I’ll treat you right. You’re such a good girl.

He takes her right there, fucking her passionately. His kisses are devout, his touch tender yet insistent, as he shows her just how beautiful and remarkable she truly is. She feels utterly vulnerable, caught up in the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Every fiber of her being responds to him, her senses alight with the raw, unfiltered emotions coursing through her.

The perfect date he orchestrated was already enough to sweep her off her feet. But then he gave her more: life-altering revelation of her family history, a truth so profound it has reshaped her understanding of herself.

She clenches around him, coating his cock with her slick release as her orgasm rattles her harshly. He follows not much after, filling the condom then collapsing onto her. His weight presses her into the floor before he rolls onto his back, taking her with him so she straddles his hips. Still joined, they savor the afterglow, their breaths slowly returning to normal as their hearts pound against each other’s naked and sweat glazed chests.

Looking into his eyes, she sees a reflection of a future he envisions for them—a future where she can make a difference, bring about change, and fulfill the destiny he’s convinced she’s meant for. And in this euphoric state, with her heart and soul laid bare, she knows she’ll believe anything he tells her, because with him, anything seems possible.

The next part of Javier’s investigation involves diving deeper into Jessica Valdez’s background. She was the only one to be taken and held captive for a period of time, indicating that there is something specific about her that caused the perpetrator to deviate from his usual methods.

He isn’t sure what to expect from her family. Families react in a myriad of ways to an investigator’s presence, especially when he needs to look through personal belongings with a fresh perspective. As he arrives at the Valdez home, he prepares himself to be as sympathetic as possible, turning on his Southern charm to its full effect. To his surprise, Jessica’s parents are eager to help. This relieves him, and he can’t help but note the distinct difference between them and the Thornton family. While the death of their daughter had shattered the Thorntons, it seems to have brought the Valdez family closer together.

Mrs. Valdez guides Javier to Jessica’s room, her presence lingering at the doorway as if reluctant to leave. She offers a small, encouraging nod before stepping back, leaving him to his investigation. He surveys the room, taking in the floral pattern of the bedsheets and the posters that decorate the walls. He doesn’t find anything at first, just typical things you’d come across in a twenty something year old’s bedroom.

He can’t help but compare it to Paloma’s room, thinking about how similar yet distinctly personal each space is. Javi scoffs. No matter how hard he tries to focus, she always finds a way to sneak into his thoughts, her presence lingering like a stubborn fucking ghost.

He rummages through the vanity, but finds nothing unusual—just makeup products and other miscellaneous items. Frustrated, he stands in the middle of the room, hands resting on his narrow waist as he rolls his tongue over his teeth, deep in thought. What had the assailant seen in her that made him want to keep her captive? What did she possess that the others didn’t?

Determined to find answers, Javier makes his way to her closet. A distinct groan from the wood flooring stops him in his tracks. Intrigued, he retreats a few steps and hears it again. His brows furrow as he shifts his weight, pinpointing the source of the sound. Kneeling, he notices one of the floorboards is slightly raised compared to the rest.

His blunt fingers try to pull it free, but it doesn’t budge. He quickly goes back to the vanity, grabbing a metal nail file to help loosen the board. With some effort, he manages to detach it completely, revealing a shallow hiding spot beneath. There, lying in the small cavity, is what looks like a diary. He wastes no time in taking it into his possession.

The diary has a fragile lock, but with the nail file still in hand, he carefully jimmies it open. As the lock gives way, he flips through the pages, his eyes scanning for anything that might shed light on why Jessica was different. The entries are personal, detailing her thoughts, fears, and dreams. He feels a pang of guilt for invading her privacy, but he knows this might be the key to understanding what set her apart.

One entry catches his eye, dated just two weeks before she was taken. Jessica writes about a man she noticed watching her, how she felt both intrigued and unsettled by his presence. The details are chilling and Javi’s pulse quickens. This could be the lead he’s been searching for.

As he continues to read through it, Jessica talks about meeting this guy who’s promising her the entire world. Her writing is whimsical, capturing the excitement and mystery of young love. She doesn’t go into detail, carefully avoiding specifics. She explains that this mystery boy told her that if she dared speak or write about all he’s revealed, none of it would come true.

His jaw tenses. To him, it sounds like a classic manipulation tactic, designed to keep her quiet and compliant.

“Bullshit,” he mutters under his breath, his exasperation amplifying as his fingers dig in to temples; alleviating the building migraine. He can’t believe she fell for such a transparent ploy, but he also understands the allure of a charming stranger spinning grand tales in small towns like these. It pisses him off that this guy—whoever he is—managed to weasel his way into Jessica’s life and fill her head with empty promises. He probably did the same with the others.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He knows getting irritated won’t help him find the answers he needs. He forces himself to focus, flipping through more pages to see if there’s any additional information about this mystery guy. The eccentric tone continues, filled with hopeful musings and vague references.

He has to identify him, the one who captivated Jessica and possibly led to her captivity. He gently closes the diary, his mind racing with new questions and a burning desire for justice.

With renewed purpose, he exits the room, ready to confront whatever challenges lie ahead. Her fantasy-filled writings might have masked the danger, but he sees through it. Her descriptions of a mysterious suitor aren’t just youthful reveries—they’re potential clues.

He tucks the diary securely under his arm and heads downstairs, stopping to make conversation with her parents on the way out. Very subtly, he asks them questions about any new people in Jessica’s life, a boyfriend or a close guy friend she might have been spending time with recently. They aren’t much help in this regard, reiterating the same information they’ve already provided in various statements. Of course, Jessica wouldn’t have mentioned this secretive relationship to them, but he still had to ask—just in case.

The drive back to Seminary is quiet as he mulls over this discovery. He can’t shake the gnawing feeling that he knows who’s behind this, but his thoughts are muddled by the disdain he harbors for the blonde, tattooed sleaze that fits the vague description Jessica had written in her diary.

The charming promises, the elusive nature of this mystery man. They match the profile of the younger guy he’s had his eye on for a while—this local troublemaker known for his smooth-talking and shady past. This connection is worth looking into, especially since he already has the plans to tail August’s group.

Entering the sheriff’s department, he immediately notices Romeo chatting with Lorraine, who is gathering her things to leave for the day. Javier glances at his watch, seeing that he should have left hours ago.

“You workin’ a double?” he asks, flashing the older woman a charming smile as she bids them both goodnight.

“Had a meeting with Abbott over the phone then I did some paperwork. Paloma’s out with her friend ‘n won’t be back till morning. M’not really lookin’ to bein’ at home alone. Might stop by the bar to kill some more time.”

At the mention of her, he feels that all-too-familiar internal reaction—the one he experiences every time she’s brought up. No matter how hard he tries to bury his thoughts of her beneath his work and other bullshit distractions, it’s impossible when Romeo talks about her so frequently.

And why wouldn’t he? Romeo is none the wiser to what Javier and his daughter have been entangled in for the past few months. His guilt and desire swirl together once again, creating a complex cocktail of emotions that he has to suppress each time her name is mentioned.

He knows exactly which friend she’s with, and considering what he just discovered in the diary, he can’t help the way his heart races at the thought of Paloma being in danger. His rational mind tells him there’s no actual threat—everything is circumstantial. But he’s desperate for answers, and unfortunately, the person who currently fits the bill is too close to her for comfort.

“She not doing a show tonight?” Javier asks, his tone laced with practiced nonchalance. It’s Friday, and he knows how much she loves and looks forward to her weekend performances.

“Nah. Said she was havin’ a sleepover with Sloane at her place. Well, shit, the motel. S’where that poor girl is livin’. Dunno why they didn’t just stay at the house––she kept sayin’ that she doesn’t wanna be there all the time and that she’d just be in town. So I figured, what the hell, she is twenty-six years old. I shouldn’t be so goddamn strict on her all the time.”

He processes this new information. The fact that Sloane lives at the motel is news to him. If she stays there, it’s possible that others in their circle do too. He wonders what information he can get about them from the employees.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Javier responds, forcing a smile. “She’s an adult and can take care of herself. Still, you’re a good dad for looking out for her.”

Romeo’s face softens with appreciation, but his thoughts are already elsewhere. He needs to visit that motel and scope out anything he can get. The urgency of his mission pulses through him, driving him to take steps he might later question. But for now, he’s only focused on getting as much dirt as he can on this group.

He taps his fingers rhythmically on the surface of the entrance desk, his mind resolutely focused on his goal for the night. “Seems to me like you should be enjoying a child-free night. Just don’t drink yourself to death down at the bar, alright?” His lips quirk up into a small smirk, eliciting a chuckle from Romeo, who agrees with him before gathering his things and leaving Javier alone in the station.

His eyes drift to the clock on the wall. The overnight deputies are due in an hour, giving him a small window of time to prepare.

With his notes updated and a clearer picture forming in his mind, he closes the diary and slips it into an empty drawer at his desk. He stands, stretching his legs and rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension before heading towards the door, a determined set to his jaw. He tells the two deputies he’s going out over his shoulder, not giving them the time to reply before he’s in his cruiser and heading towards the Trails End motel.

The first car he sees when he arrives is Paloma’s, and he isn’t sure if he should be relieved or not. Parking right by the entrance, he finishes his cigarette, the neon lights of the flickering sign casting an eerie glow over his hardened facial expression.

He wonders what room she’s in, what she could be doing to pass the time, what she’s wearing. Javier curses under his breath, his lips tingling at the phantom feeling of her soft skin beneath his touch. He recalls how he could feel the pulse in her neck amidst burying himself inside her, each beat syncing with his own racing heart.

What an evil fucking thing it is to reminisce on such a memory like this. It’s regressive, the opposite of what he should be doing, but she has such a tight grip on his heart–– he wants her to squeeze it until it pops into a bloody mess. Maybe then he’d be free of this torment of yearning for her.

He exits his car, flicking the finished butt of his cigarette into a nearby bin. The cool night air doing little to calm the heated thoughts swirling in his mind. The motel’s façade is weathered and uninviting, everything one would expect from a dingy place like this. He pauses at the entrance, drawing one last deep breath before stepping inside.

The lobby is dimly lit, a faint smell of stale smoke and cleaning products hanging in the air. The clerk at the front desk looks up with a bored expression as Javier approaches.

They engage in small talk for a moment before Javi is pulling out the mugshots of August, Sloane, and Gabriel. He slides them across the counter and asks the man what he knows about them.

“Oh yeah. That’s Miss McCarthy!” The attendant points to the picture of Sloane. “A real sweet thing. Stayed here with those boys for a good while before she moved out a few weeks ago. Her checks from the bar still get mailed here, and she’s back every week to get ‘em.”

“Moved out? She’s not living here anymore?” Javier’s eyes narrow, intrigued yet confused.

“Nope. Got a house out there somewhere.”

“Is she here tonight?”

The man gives him a wary look but quickly backs down under the intensity of the sheriff deputy’s stare.

“No. Haven’t seen her since last Sunday when she came in to get her check.”

He digests this information. Sloane’s absence complicates things. He had hoped to walk away tonight with maybe a few more bad stories about her and her companions. Instead, he’s left with more questions.

His jaw clenches as he exhales through his nose, collecting the mugshots and shoving them back into his back pocket. “Alright, thanks. Mind if I take a look around before leaving?”

“She ain’t in no trouble, is she?”

“No trouble. Just following up with something.”

The attendant shrugs. “Suit yourself. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

Acknowledging him with a nod, Javier bids a brief goodnight before stepping out of the stuffy office and into the dimly lit parking lot. His footsteps echo against the pavement as he makes his way towards her car.

His frustration mounts at the revelation of the unlocked door. With a touch, it swings open easily, the interior bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light. His brows furrow as he scans the car, his irritation growing with each passing moment.

He conducts a brief search but finds nothing of significance until he flips down the visor. The keys tumble out with a muted thud, landing on the seat. Javier curses under his breath, his exasperation boiling over at the sight. She left her car unlocked and the keys inside—an invitation for trouble.

With a resigned sigh, he returns the keys to their place, his movements deliberate. He closes the door with a little more force than necessary, the sound ringing out in the quiet night.

Turning away from the car, he resumes his patrol of the motel grounds. He glances at the few rooms with lights shining from within, unable to discern which one she might be in—but he knows she’s not here at all. This fuels him to continue sleuthing.

The realization of her absence only gnaws at his unease. Where on earth could she be? Is she in some kind of trouble? Did she purposefully lie? Is she being shoved in the back of a van to meet her demise? These questions swirl in his mind, his fists clenching at his sides in a futile attempt to contain his growing anxiety. His nostrils flare with each agitated breath, the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame.

He knows he shouldn’t let himself get so worked up, but he can’t help it. The mere possibility of something happening to her fills him with a sense of dread that he can’t shake.

Determined to find something, He presses on with his search. He even manages to corner one of the motel’s housekeepers, hoping for any shred of information that might shed some light. Unfortunately, she offers nothing new, echoing the same vague responses he received from the front desk attendant.

Feeling like he’s hit a dead end, he retreats to his cruiser, the frustration mixed with anxiety pressing heavily on his shoulders as he goes through the motions of lighting another cigarette.

It isn’t until days later that Javier spots her leaving the library, a spring in her step as she rounds the building towards the alleyway. His heart races as he quickly exits his truck and crosses the street, determined to catch her alone. His conscience whispers for him to turn back, but he ignores it, driven by his relentless need for answers.

He calls out her name, and she freezes, turning sharply to face him. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words elude him, leaving him feeling foolish for being so easily affected by her presence.

Rolling her eyes, she begins to walk away. “Wait!” he calls after her, but she shows no signs of slowing down. Closing the distance, he reaches out and grabs her forearm, hoping to halt her retreat.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” She hisses, pulling viciously from his touch and the action hits him straight in the gut, having him set his jaw firmly because he knows he deserves this.

“Where the hell were you last Friday night?” Javier demands, his words sharp and impatient, as if he holds authority over her whereabouts.

She stares at him incredulously, a disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. “You’re unbelievable,” she scoffs, shaking her head. There’s a new intensity in her gaze, a depth he’s never seen before, and it unsettles him. Though always spirited, her demeanor now is charged with an unfamiliar energy, conveying emotions he struggles to decipher.

“You use me, break my damn heart, have the audacity to tell me to leave you alone–– and when I finally do, you’re actin’ like this,” she accuses, her voice heavy with vexation. “Treatin’ me like I’m just some doll you can play around with ‘til you get bored then get possessive over when you can’t control her. Have you not already caused me enough pain?”

For a fleeting moment, she softens but she can’t help it with the way his mopey brown eyes tug at her heartstrings. Even after all the hurt he’s caused.

He’d miss the flash of vulnerability in her stare if not for how attuned he is to her. She’s right, and he fucking knows it. He’s made a bigger mess of things, a realization that pierces through him like a dagger.

But then he remembers the anxiety that had crawled over him once he realized she wasn’t at the motel, how pissed he’d gotten at her recklessness.

“That’s not what this is about,” he retorts through gritted teeth, “All this shit that’s going on and you’re just disappearing off into the night. There’s a psychopath out there, preying on girls like you and I’m just––” 

“You’re just what?” she interrupts, her voice laced with a mixture of defiance and exasperation. “Please don’t tell me you’re ‘looking after me,’ because that’s a damn joke. I can take care of myself. Like you said–– s’not your job to be babysittin’ me. Go do what you’re here to do, Javier, and leave. me. alone.” she concludes, her tone mirroring the sharpness he had directed at her that night at the party. “And stop followin’ me around.” With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving him standing there, tussling with the burden of his own sense of wrongdoings.

His gaze follows her retreating figure with a heavy heart. He catches sight of August, leaning arrogantly against his motorcycle with an air of superiority at the end of the alleyway. Javier’s entire body tenses, standing there seething like a furious statue. Anger flares along his skin, transforming his melancholy into fury.

August’s smug posture, coupled with the intimate embrace he shares with her, ignites a jealous fire deep within Javier’s chest.

Every movement, every touch between them feels like a taunt aimed directly at him, a reminder of what he has lost, even though she wasn’t his to begin with.

His hands curl into tight fists, jaw twitching as he watches his possessive hand boldly grope her ass. It’s a sight that downright torments him as his mind is consumed by thoughts of what could have been and what she currently has with this piece of shit.

Paloma dons the helmet and straddles the bike behind August, pressing herself against him, and that is enough to finally get Javier to tear his gaze away. The roar of the motorcycle engine echoes in his ears, drowning out the sound of his own tumultuous emotions as they disappear into the distance, leaving him alone with his bitter regret.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Happy (AO3) Anniversary to Another Level! 🎉 (and a long-ass Kiko rant bc who would I be without those?)

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3. I'm slowly posting the installments here on Tumblr as well 💕

I posted Make A God Bleed exactly a year ago and I never imagined that it would become what it has. Honestly, I created Rinko on a whim and she took on a life of her own that I’m so grateful for. I love our lil corner. I’ve loved pretty much every moment we’ve had here.

I wouldn’t have survived 236 without Rinko and our corner. I wouldn’t have gotten through it without all of you here, sharing my rage and my anger. And I wouldn’t have gotten through all the shit going down now, either.

But I told my best friend a few months ago that I truly never would have found the courage to finally get out of my toxic, loveless marriage if I hadn’t realized that I was writing a lot of Rinko and Satoru’s relationship the way that I so desperately wished my marriage was: one filled with mutual respect and love. Two people who love each other despite the hardships, through the hardships, and facing everything that comes at them together. Loving each other even when it’s hard. Working to be better for themselves and for each other. That’s love. Sometimes it’s easy and sometimes it’s hard, but at the end of the day, it should never feel lonely. It should never leave you feeling unwanted or unlovable or like a burden. It should never leave you feeling hopeless. It should never make you feel like you’re on an island all alone while you’re sitting right next to someone who claims to love you.

*tw for trauma dump, discussion of emotional abuse

When I finally told my ex-husband that I wanted a divorce, it was in response to his threat with it. Since we got married, in almost any disagreement or argument we had, he would attempt to end it by threatening me with, “Do you want to end up divorced? Because this is how we end up divorced." When I finally told him that yes, I did want to get divorced, he listed all the reasons he believed we couldn't. After he'd given a laundry list of reasons, all of which included what others would say or think, I realized and pointed out that he hadn't once said he wanted to stay married because he loved me and wanted to be with me.

He didn't want to stay married to me. He just didn't want to be divorced. To him, marriage was a status symbol, not love. To him, divorce was a threat and a weapon to keep me in line - to keep me from disagreeing with him. As if living life married to someone who threatened divorce instead of being willing to discuss and resolve our problems, someone who didn't want to go to marriage counseling because he didn't want 'homework' and didn't want to 'listen to a stranger tell him what to do,' someone who swore at me and called me names and treated me like a child when he was upset, someone who threw things at me and waved objects in my face and broke things when he was angry, someone who said that I never took responsibility for my actions but always blamed his own on me, was somehow better than being alone for the rest of my life.

I'm not perfect. I'll never claim to be perfect or blameless. There are absolutely ways I could have been better in my marriage and in life. But I finally realized that no matter my flaws, nothing excuses the way he treated me. Nothing excuses the number of times he purposefully made me wish I was dead; the number of times he glared at me with something so close to hatred while I had a panic attack and accused me of faking it to make him feel sorry for me; the number of times he stormed out and left me wondering if my existence in his life was truly so awful that it would be better if I was gone forever; the number of times that I had to sit alone in a room, sobbing as I tried to convince myself that dying wasn't the solution while my husband told me he wouldn't comfort me because I didn't deserve it. He told me that my years of therapy had done nothing for my mental health, but the fact that I'm still breathing proves him wrong.

I didn't do it alone. I had so much help. I had my therapist, my best friend, my family, my friends, and Rinko and all of you in our lil corner. So, thank you all again from the bottom of my heart.

Our Goinko has become so much more than I ever imagined. From Another Level to Physical Paradox to Gokudō, I genuinely love that so many people adore these two idiots as much as I do. It makes my heart jump every time someone tells me they’re rereading Another Level or that it’s their comfort because, in all honesty, it’s mine, too. It's incredible to see that people are still finding it and reading it for the first time. Seeing comments from people who binged it all in one night makes my entire day.

I’ve been so busy lately with my new job and trying to navigate what my life is now that I’m divorced that I really don’t have that much time to write, but I promise I’m still here. I will finish Physical Paradox, and I will finish Gokudō. And then I just might pick up my original work again and maybe get it published someday.

Hopefully, I’ll have an update of some kind for something soon, but we’ll see. I’ve decided to try to quit pressuring myself so much.

Thank you all again for being part of our lil corner and this incredible journey over the past year. I couldn’t have made it this far without you, and I’m so excited to see what this next year brings!

Also, a side note: my birthday is next week, and I’m going to have dinner and cake with my parents tonight to celebrate a bit early. I’m excited about my birthday for the first time since before I got married. I’m happy with where I am and with my life. My mother pointed out that she hadn’t heard me say that I was happy in years.

Sorry for this hella long rant, but I appreciate you reading it.

Much love to you all, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!!

💕 Kiko

[smallblueandloud]

i've been SUPER blocked, fic-wise, this month. but i'd really like to write a bit and get another story out in time for june! so i'm gonna think out loud for a little while

here are the fics i've got ongoing, and why i'm stuck on them:

éponine de bergerac: the next scene is a complex one, with éponine meeting cosette's dad. i don't really trust my ability to write jean valjean, nor do i really know what purpose this scene has to fulfill, other than jean approving of éponine. this isn't really based on a scene in cyrano itself or roxanne (1987), so i kinda don't have a road map. maybe i just write a little bit of the dinner and then move on? but then i have to solve my overall plot problems. oh shit the balcony scene can happen over text can't it. okay. i'm gonna investigate that later.

universal translator malfunction: unfortunately the dark side of writing casefic is that you need a case underneath it all. i don't know what's causing the malfunction in the first place. i've written every scene that got me to start this fic in the first place so now i have no idea how to resolve it

natlaura soulmates installment: i realized a few days ago that clint has to get kidnapped and now i'm procrastinating writing this casefic, too. it needs to happen, we need JUSTIFICATION for clint and nat hiding laura away, that's the whole emotional tension of the fic. unfortunately i don't feel like writing a kidnapping, especially trying to figure out how to convey natasha's competence from a civilian (laura's) perspective :/ maybe i'll figure out how to include melinda may somehow, that might make it more fun to work on

quarrel (13 meets mickey/martha rewrite): tbh i've been vaguely thinking that i should rewatch s11 before i go back to writing 13. which... i don't think is necessary, to be honest, given how superficially 13 is characterized in s11. i think most of the problem here is just procrastination and a bit of boredom.

and then some other vague ideas i could try to flesh out...

now that s14 is over i want to write something for doctor who. i'm really debating what. i kinda want ruby to hang out at the temple-noble house but the existence of tenthree makes that feel sour to me -- i don't like that there's a doctor chilling on earth who's presumeably ignoring every former companion who's within driving distance. but maybe tenthree is just conveniently off-world or something. maybe the family is hiding tenthree's existence from ruby? or maybe ruby meets tenthree and realizes he's fundamentally the doctor but Still Not Really Her Friend.

oh. relatedly. the memory TARDIS reminded me about all of my TARDIS feels. i would love to write a fic related to the TARDIS, esp the TARDIS kitchen (kitchens are my favorite space in basically any universe). hmm. maybe this could tie into my ruby sendoff.

oh as always also the ever-classic: the fam meets jack harkness but instead of realizing he's a friend, they hear the way he talks about the doctor and assume he's the master.

okay i'm gonna try to talk about non-doctor who ideas now.

leverage ot3 getting-together fic that my good friend basically outlined into my dms and now i really want to write because it's so good. i'm not sure i have faith in my ability to keep ahold of the relevant emotional threads but hey it's probably worth a shot.

i literally have no idea what but i want to write something for the fast and furious series. definitely something featuring mia and/or letty. maybe about hispanidad. and also queerness.

luke and leia force dyad? five times they shared something? quantum entanglement from beru's perspective? han figuring out about the force bond at some point, possibly before the twins themselves?

...a scene set in the fullmetal alchemist version of the xmen. mostly i just want to talk about jean grey, flame alchemist, and her longsuffering assistant lieutenant summers.

that fic i keep talking about where yelena and natasha meet clint and yelena cannot fathom how deeply natasha trusts this guy. unfortunately this one would be super noncompliant with the black widow movie but, like, not in obvious ways, so i'd have to MAKE that obvious, and it would get clumsy pretty quickly

...so i'm clearly not DOOMED, okay, i have a BILLION ideas. i just have to sit down and write them!

maybe tomorrow i'll go the library after my nice fancy brunch that i've already planned out. that would be a lovely saturday treat

[solarmorrigan]

I’m screaming over the latest installment of Hands Where I Can See Them!! I was so excited to see Wayne, the way you wrote him was so perfect.

And Steve’s bitchy little comments were so perfect. He’s trying so hard to seem mean and tough to try and hide how much Eddie hurt him it’s just amazing.

I can’t wait to see where you take it and I’m honestly glad it won’t be going to 100% fluff and everything’s good right after this fight! Sometimes that can make things feel a bit rushed in my opinion, so I can’t wait to see what else you have in mind 💖💖

Hello!! Late reply, I'm sorry!

Wayne is honestly a lot of fun to write, I don't do it often enough. He seems like a very steadfast, solid kind of person, but being related to Eddie it's also easy to imagine him being a bit sarcastic or snarky in a sly sort of way. So dry that some people don't even catch it, but in a way that compliments Eddie's over-the-top style well

And to be perfectly honest, this was going to be 100% fluff once Eddie apologized. It was going to be a bit of a slow build, but still a steady kind of uphill, but the more I was trying to work at it, the more it just didn't feel... earned? I guess? I've been frustrated with fics before that have a Big Hurt completely resolved by a single apology, and I didn't want to do that, so we're trying some kind of... compromise, instead. Less of a straight line and more of a wiggle

I hope the next few parts are worth being excited for??

[obsessedfluffbutt]

@glowweek day 5: Family

Dinner and Game Night

“Steven! Connie!” Amethyst yells as she spin dashes her way into the cottage.

“Amethyst!” Steven yells back in glee, snatching her up before she can crash straight into Connie.

The two laugh and giggle as Steven tosses Amethyst around. He throws her into the air, catches her and spins her around and around. He's so incredibly excited to see them all! She'll never get over just how tall he's gotten either! So much for the shorty squad!

“Hello everyone!” Pearl waves as she enters, carrying a small casserole dish.

Garnet follows behind her silently, grin on her face the moment she sees, now all grown up, Steven, and the engagement rings they both wear. She places the grocery bags of fresh cut fruit Pearl had insisted they bring in the kitchen counter. Greg follows next, all smiles and laughter as his son, somehow taller than him now, practically crushes his ribs in a bear hug.

“Connie! Steven!” Two more voices call out as they enter.

“Mom!” Connie practically squeals with delight, “I'm so glad you made it!”

Priyanka hugs her only child tight, “I missed the last get together, there was simply no way I was going to miss another!”

“Especially not after hearing the crazy shenanigans we got up to with charades last time!” Doug mutters quietly to his daughter, making her giggle at the memory. Amethyst had cheated and used shapeshifting, resulting in all the gems using it, then arguing, and somewhere along the lines a pillow getting busted throwing feathers everywhere. She and Steven were still finding stray feathers in odd places when they cleaned, and it's been nearly two weeks!

“Are you eating well sweetheart? You look a little pale.” Priyanka asks, placing her hand on Connie's forehead to check her temperature.

Connie giggles again, “I'm fine Mom. I promise.”

Not entirely convinced, Priyanka hums and resolves to heap some extra food on her daughter's plate for dinner. She may be an adult now, but she'll always be her little girl, and she'll always care for her.

“So what game are we playing today?” Amethyst asks.

“We actually haven't decided yet. Connie and I figured this week we could leave it up to a vote.” Steven says, a grin still plastered on his face. He can't stop smiling. He's just so, so excited! He loves seeing his family, and spending time with them.

Once he and Connie had gotten engaged, and moved into their little cottage, they'd contacted Bismuth about installing a small local warp pad, so the gems and humans could visit more easily. Then they all agreed on a twice a month dinner and game night, which Pearl has made sure they stuck to. Every two weeks they gather together, have a fun little potluck style dinner and play some fun family games.

At first it was just charades, or Yahtzee, but after a while everyone started getting bored with the same old same old. So Steven went out and began collecting tons of different types of games to play. Ranging from Settlers, to Wonders, and tons of card games. One of which had such raunchy results that Pearl nearly poofed and Greg and Priyanka both nearly passed out. They've since shelved that one, though whenever Amethyst visits she insists they play, and the three will often have a good laugh the entire time.

The gem and human family gather around the large table, laden with all sorts of food, and begin to dish up. Amethyst heaps her plate full, and Priyanka successfully sneaks extra green bean casserole onto her daughter's plate when she's not looking. Her eyes meet Stevens, he's doing the same thing with the mashed potatoes, heaping extra onto Connie's plate while she's distracted chatting with Pearl. The two exchange an embarrassed smile and giggle before returning to their own plates.

“So! Connie, Steven, how's the wedding planning going?” Pearl can't help but ask.

Swallowing his bite of food Steven says, “Good, Garnet’s been a huge help! Well, more like she's taking care of pretty much everything, but still!” He laughs, Garnet grins again, fiddling with her thumbs. She seems to be practically vibrating with excitement in her chair.

They all continue with the small talk for a short while, Doug asking Connie about work, Greg telling Steven about the latest tour news, and Amethyst snarfing down any leftover food she can grab. Garnet, unable to hold it in anymore, stands rapidly from her seat, practically shaking the plates off the table in her haste. Everyone stops to stare at her as she stands, shuddering, massive grin across her face.

“Okay, okay!” Steven holds up his hands. Figuring they've tortured the poor fusion, with her future vision long enough he and Connie stand as well.

“There's one thing we wanted to say before we do anything else.” Connie says.

With everyone's unbridled curiosity, thanks to Garnet, and undivided attention Connie says, “Steven and I have been together for a long time now. I've got a stable well paying job, we've got this beautiful house, a wedding coming up and such a wonderful growing family.”

She places her hand over her stomach, a light blush and gentle smile drifting across her face. Steven places his hand over hers, and grins brightly. Priyanka gasps, Garnet bounces where she stands, but Doug, Greg, Pearl and Amethyst still seem a little lost.

“We're pregnant!” Connie and Steven exclaim together, Steven providing some jazz hands for added effect.

Chaos breaks out as Pearl and Priyanka squeal in delight, Greg, Doug and Amethyst cheer and jump around in excitement, and Garnet lifts Steven into her own bone crushing hug.

Forget games, the family spends the rest of their evening asking questions, planning dates and parties, and just so, so excited for the future and all the changes it's about to bring.

“No wonder Steven caught me before I could roll into Connie!” Amethyst laughs.

[n-odious-tropy]

Hello Odious!

I just wanted to thank you for the lemon-fact request you made, and I thought I should send something in return! I hear you work a lot with dimensions and time... What is that like? Do you go to ancient Greece before lunch, then another dimension's Jupiter in the afternoon? Sorry, I am letting my imagination run wild, haha! I didn't even know things like that were possible. But I'm really curious, what does you day look like as a "time doctor"?

Regards, Candido 🍋

Ah, Candido. This little exchange is a pleasant surprise. I hadn't expected to hear from you. I was just intrigued by your little facts about lemons you posted. I've never cared much for fruit before, but seeing your genuine interest in the topic had piqued my own and so I was eagerly awaiting the next installment. If you've any more to offer, then I would enjoy hearing them.

But you haven't asked about that in particular. Now onto the point.

I... wouldn't so much say time as I would dimensions specifically. The other versions of myself are more concerned with time travel than I; Interdimensional travel has always been my passion even before I knew of its existence. I used to be no better than a fool, chasing that dream like I was on novocaine, resolving to leave the world in which I existed one way...or another.

I consider myself a physicist first and foremost, having studied both quantum and metaphysics for the purposes of achieving what I once thought impossible. I've dabbled in engineering, but moreover as a means to an end rather than getting the degree itself. I don't believe I can add that to my resume as it's just shy of a formal education. Call it amateur work if you will. I put interdimensional travel at the forefront of my general research, but it's not as if I couldn't time travel; it does involve a similar process of molecular manipulation. I can't say that I haven't thought about it either but the idea is... frightening to me to say the least. All my theories point to the idea that time travel only results in split timelines every time without fail. Even if unintentional, every time I attempted, my presence alone would cause a split as I was never intended to exist at the given moment. You can manipulate the molecular energy necessary to visit such a frame time, but moving forward would put them far off their initial trajectory. Imagine if you will a raffle. Our current timeline is the "winner" of the raffle. Now see you can redo the raffle as many times as you like, but there will almost always be a different outcome, a different "winner" and you cannot undo the results of the previous raffle, only proclaim new "winners". If I were to go back, I could experience the result of every raffle, but not you. You would be none the wiser. I am unable to change the trajectory of the current timeline, only create new ones. I've made peace with the one I currently exist in, so I have little desire to test this theory. What's done is done, and I'm unwilling to cause an upset in the balance of the universe by creating new timelines on no more than a whim. Perhaps if I were a little more self absorbed, much like my counterparts.

But here's the rub, Candido. There is also an issue with the endeavor of interdimensional travel. Everything exists. In the same time, in the same place, but on a different frequency, on a different plane of molecular energy entirely. We cannot see them, but every instance of Deja Vu you've ever felt, you've experienced at the same exact time as another version of yourself. For a moment in the infinite universe, there was a brief alignment. We were never meant to cross that barrier, only exist parallel to one another. When we break that barrier and emerge on the other side, there is a brief displacement. The results of this displacement of molecular energy are varied and have largely gone unstudied to my knowledge, but I fear each displacement only further contributes to the inevitable heat death of the universe, which will result in hastening a total reset when the overall level of entropy hits its maximum. Think of a new big bang.

So I apologize if I fall short of your flights of fancy, but much of my time is spent on research and theory before putting anything into practice. The truth is my line of work is riddled with anxiety over the potential for disaster.

...At times I become so entangled in theory that I often forget to put it into practice. But I suppose much of that can be attributed to my own accident. The fear of failure is paralyzing.

But, aside from that, I have been engaging in a healthy amount of testing and maintenance lately to ensure that the rift generator remains stable. I...may have forgotten my own anxieties briefly in an attempt to stock up for the oncoming war and it's reminded me just how lovely travel can be. I found a planet recently that seems rather peaceful. Very lavender colored, tall grass, a sea of green, and a large red sun. The inhabitants almost seem to resemble lagomorphs. Strange, isn't it? Now I could easily sit here talking about this for hours straight but maybe one day, if I can earn my confidence back, I can show you just what I mean. The sights that are yet to be beholden, the experiences to be had one would have never thought possible.

Reminds me why I even started in the first place.

[patibato]

[Bitter Sweet Sixteen] 002-A20 - Antoine's Beach

Momiji: And… there… phew. Gannosuke-san, I've finished carrying in the equipment.

Gannosuke: Let's get it installed now, then.

Momiji: Got it… …

Gannosuke: You seem concerned about the weather.

Momiji: Right, the chance of rain is 80%… All we can do now is pray for a 20% miracle.

Gannosuke: Let's have faith. The weather god can be fickle.

Momiji: Right!

Gannosuke: To change the subject—Kiroku-kun didn't appear at the atelier this morning.

His lantern is in its final stages, and he seemed to be pushing through, so I'm a tad concerned.

Are there any issues?

Momiji: Well, actually—

Sakujiro: I won't say a scuffle is bad in and of itself. Having your true thoughts clash is important every now and then.

Muneuji: …

Sakujiro: Nevertheless, you mustn't throw someone thirty times…! What if he developed chronic traumatic encephalopathy!

Ushio: …I can at least break my fall.

Momiji: (He's used to being thrown…)

Sakujiro: Hubris will destroy you. In any case, do reflect on this. Now, let's shake hands and make up.

Muneuji: …

Ushio: …

Momiji: (They're turned away from each other, zero sign of shaking hands…)

Hey, you two, I'd be grateful if you at least told us what caused the fight.

Akuta: On that note, is it raining the day after tomorrow?

Momiji: Hmm… according to the weather forecast… seems so.

Nanaki: So it is, huh.

Kiroku: … …

Muneuji: Is there nothing to be done about it?

Momiji: Right now, all we can do is leave it to chance… I guess.

Akuta: …So, there'll really…

Momiji: Akuta-kun—

Akuta: —Be sooo much leftover stall food for us to eat up! Hell yeah! Takoyaki, okonomiyaki, yakisoba, baby castella!

Momiji: … …

Akuta: Won't need to eat tomorrow so my stomach'll be wide open! I'll fill up on the stall food!

Ushio: Excuse me?

Nanaki: You're seriously… This isn't the time to say such thoughtless things!

Ushio: …This guy's never had a negative thought in his life. Must be nice being the only one happy.

Muneuji: Having a positive mindset is good, of course. But there's a time and place for it.

Food from stalls should be served to customers. Who would be happy taking it for themselves?

Akuta: If it's clear, everyone gets to enjoy the Summer Festival; if it's rainy, lucky us, we can eat all we want. Ain't that fi~ne?

That's what's called being reasonable. We can be happy no matter what happens. Yeah?

Ushio: Reasonable or not, it doesn't matter. It's tedious. Tiring.

Nanaki: There you go—we're not going to get anywhere if you keep saying it's tedious and refusing to have a conversation. Don't resign yourself until we've discussed it.

Ushio: Could you tell that to Buddharupa over there? He's always silent, pisses me off.

Kiroku: …Ah, …I.

Momiji: Alright everyone, that's enough fighting! Quiet down!

Sakujiro: …

Momiji: Oh no, Sakujiro-sensei's making a displeased expression! The lecture's going to drag on at this rate!

Muneuji: … …

Ushio: Tch…

Nanaki: …

Sakujiro: …

…There, it took 50.6 seconds for everyone to quiet down.

Akuta: What's with that cool line! Really feels like you're a teacher. Gotta snatch that one for my next work~♪

Nanaki: They said to shut… sigh, it doesn't matter.

I've got it. I'm sorry. I'll be careful to not get into a fight tonight.

Happy now? I'm tired, so I'll head to bed. Let's go, Kinugawa-kun.

Kiroku: … Yeah.

Ushio: I'll do the same. My back hurts from being tossed about so severely, so I'll stop here.

Muneuji: …

Ushio: You sleeping in the living room, Muuchan? Bet you don't want to see my face—

And I don't want to see yours right now either.

Muneuji: Fine by me.

Momiji: …And that's the situation.

Gannosuke: I see, I'm familiar with such things. In regards to the fight, it'll get resolved sooner or later-

But there's no point being discouraged just because of the rain.

When it comes to events and trips, it's common for it to rain on the day you were excited for.

Momiji: (Sakujiro-san said something similar, didn't he.)

(…If they become Tourism Ward Mayors, how will they handle times like this?)

(It's like they're being tested—… ah!)

Is this… a test…!?

Gannosuke: What is?

Momiji: Nothing! I want to check on everyone real quick, I'll head back to the inn for a moment…!

*running*

*knocking*

Momiji: Nanaki-kun… Nanaki-kun…!

…

Not coming… maybe he's out.

(No helping it, I'll head to the living room.)

Kiroku: …

Momiji: Kiroku-kun! Is Nanaki-kun not in your room?

Kiroku: … He's there, but… since last night… he's been sulking in bed.

Momiji: I see…

Kiroku: …

Momiji: (Kiroku-kun's expression is dark… Looks like he's putting his all into making Teru Teru Bozu*.)

Gannosuke-san was worried about you. He said you didn't come to the atelier this morning.

Kiroku: …

Momiji: It's just the finishing touches left, yeah? The Teru Teru Bozu are also important, but finishing the lantern first is more—

Kiroku: I'm, relieved. In the end… I don't have to… show my lantern… to anyone.

*footsteps*

Momiji: Kiroku-kun…

Momiji: (Anyone in this room—)

Ushio: …

Momiji: Ushio-kun! Are Akuta-kun and Muneuji-kun around?

Ushio: They went out.

Momiji: Got it. Thank you.

Ushio: …

Momiji: (He's coming across as completely unapproachable… It might be best to leave things here for now…)

(I'll go search for Akuta-kun and Muneuji-kun… I hope they have their GPS on.)

Akuta: …

Momiji: Found you! Akuta-kun!

Akuta: Aah? Sensei, huh. Hey theeere.

Momiji: Hey there. …What were you doing, looking into the sea?

Akuta: Nothin', I've just not eaten since morning, so I'm starving. Wondering if I could eat the seaweed washed up here.

Momiji: Raw…? Don't do that.

Akuta: Really? Ah~ I'm starviiing… if seaweed's no good, what about kelp?

Momiji: Don't.

Y'know, everyone's down in the dumps about tomorrow… but you're the same as ever, Akuta-kun.

I'm a bit relieved.

Akuta: No point thinking depressing thoughts. Or rather, I can't. Thinking too much causes nosebleeds. For me at least.

Anyway, won't everyone cheer up sooner or later? Will probably realize that worrying's pointless.

But man, that rain�� gotta get something done about that.

Momiji: That's…

(There's nothing to be done, but I can't say that to Akuta-kun and the others now…)

(But if I could at least cheer them up…)

Akuta: Anyway, uugggh… my hunger won't go away…! If kelp's no good, I can scrape some seaweed off a rock—

Momiji: Akuta-kun!

Akuta: Yes!

Momiji: Even if it rains tomorrow, the things we've done on this study tour, the things we're doing-

Even if we can't go through with what we planned for our customers on the day… it absolutely won't be in vain.

The weather this time may be unfortunate, but the effort you've all put in will be properly rewarded.

We'll negotiate to have the fruits of your labour displayed in Shodoshima's community centre, so they'll definitely see the light of day.

So I want you to not worry about the weather, and continue with your preparations.

Akuta: Hm, hmmm…? Yeah?

Momiji: Above all else, the experience of giving your all at something with your friends will surely become a source of encouragement for you.

It'll be a good memory. It'll be good for the future of yourself and the others.

Akuta: … …

Momiji: There will be plenty of times you do your best and it doesn't go well, but even so, you can use that regret as a springboard to tackle the next challenge, or—

Akuta: … …

Momiji: Um…

…What's up? You look kinda stern.

Akuta: It's nothing. Don't worry 'bout it. I'm goin' toilet!

*footsteps*

Momiji: Ah, Akuta-kun…!

He left…

*Teru Teru Bozu are little handmade dolls that are hung up in hope of sunny weather

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

[dualcastimpact]

dawntrail impressions pt. x

In this installment: breaking a death flag and some realisations come to being.

Spoilers under the cut, as always:

Hunmu Rruk's gotten himself kidnapped right after confessing the truth of Wuk Lamat's parentage to Raginmar. Not that it's not a compelling drama angle, but the sheer pacing from Hunmu Rruk spilling his heart out to then immediately getting kidnapped is really way too fast, there's almost no impact to the revelation. It's just there to set up Bakool Ja Ja's scheme.

Wuk Lamat: "Come on, then! You want a fight? I'll give you a fight!"

Said scheme mainly revolves around pressuring Wuk Lamat into a one-on-one fight with her birth father's life on the line and without the assistance of the singular most powerful combat force in her entourage: the Warrior of Light.

Obviously, since Wuk Lamat is a shōnen manga protagonist in the most obviously trope-y JRPG in recent memory, there's no way she'd lose even without the Warrior of Light.

———

What will you say? > Cowards don't stand a chance against Wuk Lamat. > You should back down before you get hurt. > Don't worry—the scary adventurer won't try anything funny.

I personally love how unconcerned Raginmar looks in this shot, paired with his unbothered, nonchalant response to Bakool Ja Ja's taunting. Also any shot where he's got his arms crossed and showing off his biceps and forearms is really just (chef's kiss) mwah, this game is so good to me.

Also he just looks unconcerned; if you think he's not keeping an eye on Hunmu Rruk to make sure he's unharmed via some arcane means you've got another think coming.

———

Bakool Ja Ja the Mighty: "You think this weakling could hurt me!?"

The emphasis on me instead of weakling is really rather interesting; it shows that his disdain towards Wuk Lamat is secondary towards his ego. He cares more about the slight against him instead of insulting Wuk Lamat.

That said Raginmar did not have to stand with his hip cocked to one side like that, that is just plain disrespect, unbelievable, how dare he—

———

In this battle, you will play as Wuk Lamat.

Oh heck yeah! I love it when we get to play battles as other characters! I still remember how excited I got during post-Stormblood when the in-game messages went from "In this battle, you will play as Hien" to "In this battle, you will play as Raginmar Steelbiter"—just seeing his name on-screen like that like he's part of the cast was so satisfying.

———

Hoobigo Guardian: "We'll release the hostage."

Raginmar's figured as much since he's secretly keeping an eye on them, but I have to be honest: I was expecting some kind of betrayal from them. I really wasn't expecting this particular drama to be resolved so quickly, I was expecting some more treachery or tragedy or death.

Was this sideplot even necessary?

———

Hunmu Rruk: "I—Ah, but to single-handedly defeat Bakool Ja Ja! You truly are the Dawnservant's daughter."

Hunmu Rruk: "It has been my honor to bear witness to your journey, Promise."

Oh no, he's forcibly enforcing distance between them...

———

Wuk Lamat: "Promise... Yes, that's what I am."

Wuk Lamat: "I'm Gulool Ja Ja's daughter, and Tuliyollal's next Dawnservant!"

Hunmu Rruk's said it himself, she's destined to lead more than just the Xbr'aal. She's been raised as the Dawnservant's daughter all her life, I get where they're coming from, but also it kinda... sucks? Like they're just going to dismiss that possible bond between them? Hunmu Rruk's just going to watch her from afar, even after explicitly still thinking of her as his daughter after years?

That's some bullshit, honestly.

———

Erenville: "The twins ran me from one end of the Ut'ohmu Horizon to the other, asking about everything of remote interest along the way..."

Suffer. Time to deal with the younger siblings you never had.

———

Koana: "Our nation is built upon the bonds that Father forged during his journey across Tural."

Koana: "But so single-minded have I been in my advocacy of foreign innovations...that I failed to understand my own people."

ABOUT FUCKING TIME.

I don't care how clichéd this is, so long as I don't have to deal with his stupid insistence that tradition is bad and useless and the sun shines out Sharlayan's ass, I'm good.

———

Thancred: "Let them see you for who you really are. What makes you laugh and cry and rage. That sort of honesty is the first step towards mutual understanding and connection."

What, the kind of honesty none of you showed Raginmar during his first few years with the Scions?

———

Thancred: "You said you wished to use the knowledge you acquired in Sharlayan for your country—and in doing so repay your father for the opportunities he afforded you."

Sounds familiar eh, Thancred?

———

Thancred: "What won me over was not your ambition, but your motivation."

Thancred: "So let your people know this. And in time, they'll come to support you as we do."

Thancred: "You can't hide behind that stoicism forever."

First of all, you can absolutely hide behind a stoicism forever—Raginmar did just fine. Koana's just too green behind the ears to warrant that stoicism. He has no experience behind that stoicism, that's his problem.

Second of all, I like how Koana has his mentor moment with Thancred, arguably the most dad-like amongst the Scions. To be fair it's more to set up the plot twist(?) later on but it's nice to see the Scions not be completely useless.

———

Alisaie: "Come to think of it, isn't it Bakool Ja Ja's home? We can only hope its residences don't share his winning personality."

We're headed to the Ja Tiika Heartland next and oh, don't worry, Alisaie—they're worse.

———

Alphinaud: "If it is indeed the city where Ketenramm first met the Dawnservant, surely some civility awaits us."

Hunmu Rruk: "I would not be so certain."

First of all, calling Mamook a city is a tad generous. Second of all... well, you'll see.

———

Wuk Lamat: "Thank you for everything, Hunmu Rruk. Till next time, take care!"

Hunmu Rruk: "How you have grown indeed..."

I don't know what I'm meant to feel here. Am I meant to feel sad, that Hunmu Rruk's forced to watch his daughter walk away and hope she understands how proud he is of her without him ever having the chance (or the right) to make that apparent? Am I supposed to feel touched, that he's making this sacrifice for the greater good? Like I said, that whole conflict with his secretly being her father and having to pretend that they're not connected in any way so Wuk Lamat could focus on continuing and protecting the Dawnservant's legacy felt so rushed and so... unimportant, I don't really see any point to it. Maybe it'll be an important plot point later on, I don't know, but so far I just think this part specifically was rather badly done, and had little to no impact on me as the player.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Your thoughts about Scooby-Doo? I think that Shaggy can be amazing predator

Oooh...fine, I'll answer this one that I've had an idea with since I was first getting into vore.

Having the M.ystery Machine all to themselves made for a great time, as far as S.cooby and S.haggy are concerned. They've basically turned the van into food storage and spend their days stuffing their faces on whatever they have around...which really isn't that different to what they do most of the time, really. It's become a simple life for them of eating all their food, getting more, and then doing it over again. And it works...most of the time.

The worst time to run out of food is while in the middle of nowhere, like the two foodies currently are. S.haggy had to drive while S.cooby sat in the back, but of course, he got hungry and had to stop to have a snack or two. But when he stopped and got in the back, he was devastated by what he saw.

"S.cooby, like, did you eat all of our food?!" The Great Dane is lazing on his back, his stomach full of just about all their food. The fridge and cabinets the two of them had installed the back of the van are all open and bare. Boxes and wrappers sit around, not even crumbs left inside of them.

S.cooby belches and snickers into his paw. "Rorry, Raggy! I got rungry!"

"Like, I'm hungry, too!" S.haggy demands. His poor, starving stomach lets out a growling agreement. But S.cooby is full, and rather unsympathetic because of it. S.haggy knew it'd still be hours before they reach the next town which means that he's going to have to sit with his hungry for far longer than he ever has before. That thought scares him worse than any ghoul or ghost he's faced before! But there's nothing left for him to eat. The other thing sitting in the van now is...

S.haggy's stomach growls noisily again and he finds himself drooling a bit. He shouldn't do it...but at the same time, he can't wait until they get to town to handle this hunger. S.coob would understand, right? He'd probably do the same thing so...

"Like, sorry, S.coob, but I gotta eat!" He grabs the dog by the collar and drags him across the floor. S.cooby looks up, confused, just to look up and see S.haggy's drooling jaws open incredibly wide. S.cooby lets out a scream and starts to thrash just as his entire head is engulfed by his best friend's maw.

S.haggy was shocked by just how delicious S.cooby is. He sits there for a second, the dog's head in his maw while he tastes over his meal. Had S.coob always tasted this good? If he had, he really should have been eaten soon! With a new resolve, S.haggy starts to take great gulps, his hands grabbing onto his Great Dane and dragging him deeper down the hatch.

S.cooby kept thrashing around on his back, muffled cries for help coming from S.haggy's gullet and, soon, from the bulge in his stomach. S.haggy gets past the front legs and chest and takes some time with his dog's bloated stomach. There was enough food in there to feed an army, and it was meant to feed two greedy guys. If S.cooby had shown self-control for once, maybe it wouldn't have come to this. But his greediness got the best of him, and now, it's going to be the end of him.

S.haggy gets over the gut after plenty of tasting. Only S.cooby's kicking back legs and tail are left hanging from the man's jaws, and with a wet slurping, they're sucked right down the hatch. His thin stomach expands greatly, taking on a distinct dog shape as S.cooby is forced to curl up inside. S.haggy sits down on the edge of the van, licking his lips as he rubs over his gut. He can feel the Great Dane kicking and wiggling around inside his stomach. It's a weird sensation...but he likes it a lot.

"BWWWwwwoooOUUUURRRRrrppp!" A big belch comes from S.haggy. He thumps his chest a few times as he lets loose, and somehow, S.cooby's collar manages to get free at some point and comes flying out of his jaws. He picks it up carefully, making S.coob help when he leans over on his gut and squishes it into his legs.

"Wow, S.coob! Like, that was a meal to remember!" S.haggy smiles and pats his stomach a few times. Hearing his best buddy in the world whine and yelp and call for help as he thrashes around does make him feel a bit bad...but...feeling so full with such delicious, live meat makes it really easy to ignore those feelings.

S.haggy gets up and shuts the doors. He heads back to the front seat, adjusts it a bit to fit his stomach, and starts driving again. It'll be a few hours before he gets to town. If S.coob is still somehow alive in there by the time he gets to town, S.haggy will definitely find a way to get him out. But if he's not...well...the man's gut churns wetly and he belches again. He wonders how hard it would be to find another talking dog...and if they all taste this good.

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

i'm going on a VERY fun rabbit hole with this life series/hermitcraft/empires blaseball au thing, so have the next installment, the hermit blaseball au! this one is a lot easier to understand if you don't know anything about blaseball, because this is Much more "i've just put them into the plot of blaseball, they're just hanging out in there". my empires blaseball au can be found here, and the third life blaseball au will be linked here one i finish writing that up.

also, a few of my choices for teams i am not... particularly confident about (namely xisuma, bdubs, hypno, and tango) so if you have a better suggestion for them please pitch it.

Grian: Batter for the LA Unlimited Tacos

Scar: Batter for the Miami Dale

Mumbo: Batter for the New York Millennials, Siphon

Cleo: Pitcher for the Kansas City Breath Mints

Ren: Batter and team captain for the San Fransisco Lovers, Charm

Bdubs: Batter for the Hawai’i Fridays

Impulse: Batter for the Hellmouth Sunbeams

Pearl: Pitcher for the Houston Spies, Precognition

Gem: Pitcher for the Kansas City Breath Mints

Xisuma: Pitcher for the Philly Pies

Evil X: Pitcher for the Hades Tigers

Wels: Batter for the San Fransisco Lovers

Hels: Batter for the Baltimore Crabs

Hypno: Batter for the Mexico City Wild Wings

XB: Batter for the Atlantis Georgias

Beef: Pitcher for the Dallas Steaks

Keralis: Batter for the Core Mechanics

Joe: Pitcher for the Kansas City Breath Mints, later batter for the Seattle Garages

TFC: Coach of the Ohio Worms

Doc: Pitcher for the Core Mechanics

Jevin: Batter for the Charleston Shoe Thieves, Flinch, later rerolled into Reverberating

False: Pitcher for the Tokyo Lift

Stress: Batter for the Tokyo Lift

Iskall: Batter for the Breckenridge Jazz Hands

Tango: Pitcher for the Chicago Firefighters, Fire Eater

Cub: Batter for the Charleston Shoe Thieves, got Flinch from fighting god and got it rerolled into Debt

Etho: Pitcher for the Canada Moist Talkers

Zedaph: Pitcher for the Yellowstone Magic

Wormman: Pitcher for the Ohio Worms

This AU is, even more so than the Empires part of this AU, just me shoving the Hermits into the Blaseball universe and letting it happen.

The only people who are even sort of replacing an actual Blaseball player are Cleo, Joe, and Gem.

Cleo is our Jaylen. She pitches for the Kansas City Breath Mints, and is the best pitcher in the league, and when the Forbidden Book opens, she dies. Her intended replacement is False Symmetry II, aka Empires!False, but when the Forbidden Book is opened in the Empires, Hermitcraft, and Life Series universes all at once, everything gets a little muddled, and everyone comes out of it a little muddled. The biggest change is that Cleo is instead replaced by Gemini Tay, the newly generated player from the Empires world who was meant to replace Xornoth. 

When she is resurrected at the end of season 6, Joe goes into the Shadows in exchange. Within a few seasons, he is able to leave the Shadows and bats for the Breath Mints for about a season, afterwards he is transferred to the Seattle Garages, where he stays. I am not putting him back in the Shadows because it makes me kind of sad.

Cub and Jevin are both players for the Thieves, so they get cursed as a result of the boss fight against the Shelled One. We will resolve that later. Hels, despite being on the Crabs, does not get cursed, because he doesn’t join the Crabs until after they return from ascension.

Other than that, the Hermits are just sort of Existing in the world of Blaseball. Evil X and Hels are both created in similar ways to Evil Twin and Bontgomery Mullock, which is to say, Blessings break and accidentally clone a guy, so we just slightly edit one of their names and keep going. Don’t worry about it. 

At one point during Expansion, while the Reroll Will is still in effect, fans of the Thieves attempt to reroll the Flinch modifier that Cub got as a side effect of fighting god and losing that one time. It gets rerolled into Debt, in a similar vein to what happened to Silvaire Roadhouse, but because he’s on the Thieves, he actually gets to kill people. Good for him. Jevin’s Flinch modifier also gets rerolled, but he gets Reverberating. Good for him, but in a different direction.