#Maybe even tie things into other events from the game in like

[e1i-neverrests]

So excited for the lore drop I'm about to write.

>:3c

Vesuvia Weekly: Prompt for August 28th - September 11th

You voted, so here it is!

Our First Argument

With that, the "What Nobody Else Knows" prompt is officially closed!

The tags are the usual #vesuvia weekly and for this specific prompt, #our first argument. The masterlist for all works submitted for this prompt will be under the poll for next week :D

MASTERLIST

[hoshifighting]

Two words. Dilf Cheol. (I am on the brink of insanity thank yewww)

dilf!seungcheol

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crying, marriage, his kid loves u, shy dilf!seungcheol at the beginning.

oh man, dilf!seungcheol though? i think about it every single day, i swear. and yeah, it all starts with that awkward-ass moment at the café. he’s standing there all buff and shy, trying to work up the nerve to ask for your number, his daughter hanging onto his leg like she’s his bodyguard. her big, curious eyes peeking out at you while he stumbles over his words. “uh… I just… I thought maybe you’d… uh,” seungcheol scratches the back of his neck, all nervous—like he isn’t the size of a tank. “you know, if you’re not busy… you could give me your insta?” he’s waiting for you to laugh at him, probably thinks he’s gonna get rejected because, you know, he’s got a kid and all. like that makes him less attractive or something. but you’re all heart-eyes the second his little girl pipes up with, “daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

dude nearly dies on the spot. he’s so red, you could probably cook an egg on his cheeks. but you just crouch down to her level, giving her the same sweet smile you flashed at the waitress earlier, and say, “well, I think your dad’s really handsome, too.”

game over. you’ve got him hooked, right there.

from then on, you’re texting nonstop. it’s almost like a high school crush thing, except the guy’s a full-grown dad who still somehow makes your stomach flip like you’re sixteen again. his insta’s basically a whole love letter to his daughter, like, every other post is her: her in some princess costume, her making pancakes (or trying to), her at the park with him, her with his dog. sometimes, you’ll scroll through his feed just to see him smile because, damn, it’s so rare he smiles like that anywhere else.

but then there’s the gym photos. god, those gym photos. all sweaty and pumped up, and you swear he’s showing off just a bit for you now that he knows you’re watching. his arms look like they could crush you, but the way he talks? it’s like he’s this big ol’ teddy bear wrapped in all that muscle.

“you eat today?” he texts you at like, 2 p.m., no greeting or anything.

you text back, “noo :(( too busy.”

not even a minute later, you get a notification from some food delivery app—he’s already sent something to your place. he’s like that. doesn’t even ask, just takes care of it. if it’s cold out, he’s dropping off a coat. if it rains, a brand new umbrella’s somehow at your work's door.

one night, you're scrolling through insta, and there’s this photo of him at some fancy work event, all dressed up in a suit and tie. goddamn, you think, biting your lip, because who knew seungcheol could clean up like that? the suit hugs every muscle, and it’s wild how he can look that good in anything from sweats to formalwear. you double-tap, and not two minutes later, he’s texting you.

“you like that one?”

you don’t even bother playing coy. “nah, I loved that one.”

there’s a pause, and you can almost picture him blushing on the other end, even though you’re the one getting all flustered.

“well, maybe you’ll get to see it in person soon,” he shoots back, and there’s a teasing edge to it, the same one that’s been driving you absolutely crazy since you started talking.

you roll your eyes, but your heart’s doing that dumb fluttery thing again. “maybe,” you reply, playing along.

and it’s like, you’re not even sure how this all happened so fast, but seungcheol? he’s always making sure you’re good, like his whole day revolves around making you smile, checking in, making sure you're eating, keeping warm. it’s low-key intense but in the best way possible.

and somehow, between all the little text convos and the insta stalking, you’ve found yourself seriously catching feelings for this dad with the cutest kid, the sweetest heart, and a whole-ass gym routine that’s absolutely unfair.

and you wonder: how the hell did you get this lucky?

seungcheol's always been like that—taking care of you like it’s second nature, probably because he’s used to being in dad-mode 24/7. you kinda feel spoiled, in the best way possible. he’s always looking out for you. it’s not that he’s overbearing; it’s just that this is how he shows he cares. but you know it goes both ways.

so one day, you decide to return the favor. you find this pink polo, something that screams him but in the softest, most endearing way. you know his daughter will love it too, ‘cause she’s all about pink and matching with her dad. you send it to him without saying much, just a little note saying, “thought this would look good on you.” the next time you see him, he's wearing it, and yeah, the shirt hugs his body perfectly. he’s acting like it’s no big deal, but you catch the way he blushes when you compliment him. “didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, but his eyes are softer than usual, that little glint of he’s falling harder than he planned.

but what really seals the deal is how u handle his daughter. every time you two try to plan a date, something comes up—his mom’s busy, or the babysitter falls through, and suddenly, the whole night’s flipped. instead of a fancy dinner, you’re headed to the park or some kid-friendly café, making sure his little girl has fun. and somehow, you end up having more fun on those “ruined” dates, watching seungcheol let loose, running around with his kid while you cheer them on. it’s like you get him, get his life, and he’s not used to that.

and then, finally, one night, the stars align. his mom takes the kid for the weekend, and it’s just you and him. alone.

and oh god, does he reward you.

he’s been holding back for weeks—months even. all that pent-up frustration, that tension from constantly having to play the responsible dad while trying to not let himself get too attached to you, it all comes crashing down.

he’s rough, no question about it. but it’s the kind of rough that makes your whole body sing. his hands are everywhere, grabbing, holding, pressing you up against walls and furniture like he’s desperate to feel every inch of you at once. he’s strong, and he knows it, lifting you like you weigh nothing, carrying you from one spot to the next without breaking a sweat.

the first time, it’s almost frantic. he’s pounding into you like he’s afraid the moment’s gonna slip through his fingers, grunting into your ear, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. your legs wrap around him, but you can hardly hold on—he’s relentless, hitting that spot over and over until you’re crying out, body shaking violently.

you don’t even realize your legs are spasming until hours later, when you try to stand and nearly collapse from how shaky you are. but seungcheol’s not done. oh no. he’s far from done.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s down between your legs, eating you out like a man famished. this time, it’s slower his tongue doing things that make you arch off the bed, hands fisting in his hair as he drags you to the edge again, then pulls you back just to do it all over. every time you think you’re about to lose it, he eases up, grinning against your skin like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

and yeah, maybe it’s been ages for him, but fuck, the man knows how to destroy you. by the time he’s done, you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, heart flying from your chest, your body so sensitive that even the thought of him touching you again makes you shudder.

seungcheol though, he’s the type to take his time. slow and unshakable, like he’s gotta be absolutely sure before he makes any big moves. but with you? he’s struggling. there’s this itch under his skin, this need to lock it down, put a ring on your finger, make it official. and yeah, he’d never say it out loud, not yet. he’s got too much pride to come off that desperate. but every time he watches you with his daughter, every time she calls you her “best friend” or shows you the drawing she made of you three as a family, he’s fighting the urge to drop down on one knee and ask you to make it real.

he hides it well, though, keeps up the usual routine. he keeps taking you out on dates, some with his little girl tagging along, others just the two of you. and he’s always scolding you whenever you show up with yet another gift for her.

“y/n, you’ve gotta stop,” he groans, shaking his head as you hand his daughter a set of pink hair clips that match her favorite doll. “she’s gonna expect something every week at this point.”

but there’s that soft look in his eyes, the one that betrays how much he loves seeing you spoil his kid. he’ll roll his eyes, but you notice how he always says “my girls” now, so casually like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you and her. his girls.

one day, he takes you to her father’s day presentation at school. you’re not sure who’s more nervous, seungcheol or his daughter. but when she walks on stage in her tiny tutu, all giggles and shy smiles, it’s seungcheol who completely loses it. you’re sitting beside him, watching him tear up before she’s even started dancing. by the time the performance is over, he’s full-on crying, holding his face in his hands as you rub his back, trying to calm him down.

“it’s just… she’s growing up so fast,” he sniffs, looking up at you with watery eyes, completely unashamed of the tears streaming down his face. and you can’t help but love him more for it, for how much he loves his daughter, for how raw and real he is when it comes to her.

your intimate life? that’s been steady too, despite how busy things get. with a kid around, it’s not always easy to find the time, but seungcheol makes sure you’re never left wanting. there are the quickies, yeah, when his daughter’s asleep and you’ve got the living room to yourselves, stealing a heated make-out session that somehow ends up with your back pressed against the couch cushions, his hands roaming under your clothes while he kisses you senseless.

but if things get too feral, you two will sneak off to the laundry room or the closet, anywhere you can get a little privacy. he’s fast, efficient, but still so thorough, making sure you’re fully satisfied every single time. it’s like, no matter how quick things have to be, he’s always got this laser focus on making you feel good.

but even with all the passion, he’s still got that soft side. sometimes, it’s just enough to make out on the couch, your lips swollen from kissing, the weight of him pressed against you. and in those moments, there’s this quiet comprehension between you two. you don’t need the sex to feel connected—sometimes, just being close is enough.

but it’s getting harder for him to hold back. every time he sees you playing with his daughter, every time she asks if you’re coming over for dinner, he feels it. that pull. that urge to make you his. and one night, after his daughter’s fallen asleep and the two of you are tangled up on the couch, catching your breath after another one of those wild, stolen moments, he looks at you, really looks at you, and the words just fall out of his mouth.

“marry me.”

it’s not planned, not rehearsed. hell, he hadn’t even thought about it until the moment the words slipped out. but once they’re out there, he realizes he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. his hand tightens around yours, and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s already bracing himself for the answer.

and all you can think is, finally.

[distantdarlings]

RETURN THE FAVOR // e. berkshire

RATING: R / 3.2K WORDS

Enzo Berkshire x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* When an altercation between Enzo and you gets you both thrown in detention, Enzo decides to take a bit of anger out on you.

+ WARNINGS - (Y'all, this is filthy) SMUT! PIV (no protection), mean dom!Enzo, Top!Enzo, Bottom!Reader, very brief Sub!Enzo, fingering (f!receiving), spanking, bondage, use of tie as gag, mentions of a slap in the face (x2), Reader is struggling (but still consensual), kinda bratty!Reader, public sex, generally rough sex, desk sex, degradation, name-calling, female reader, fem anatomy, language (lmk if I missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Slow Down - Chase Atlantic

- - -

The events of the morning had flown by so quickly, you’d barely even grasped what had happened. You knew there had been some kind of fight that you had been involved in where you were yelling at Theodore Nott for picking on a Hufflepuff. You knew that his little friend group had tried to shout back at you and that your current lover, Enzo Berkshire, had also pushed back against you.

That had pushed you over the edge, and you’d laid a slap across his cheek, lighting it up with red blush. By the time the professors had flown through the door, handing out detention slips, you’d hardly processed a thing that had happened.

There was a fight. You’d slapped Enzo Berkshire across the face. You were currently in detention for the rest of the day. Enzo Berkshire was sitting directly across from you. Those facts were clear.

The desks in the extra classroom you sat in were arranged in a debate circle, where the two of you were angled in front of each other. A pink handprint glowed brightly on his cheek, accentuating his chiseled cheekbone even more than before. His eyes were cut so angrily he might’ve evaporated you on the spot.

“If you have something to say, Enzo…,” you started, crossing your arms and staring right back at him. “Then you’d better spit it out now because I’m getting really tired of you staring at me like that. Hasn't anyone ever taught you that that was rude?”

He scoffed, an evil smirk cracking across his lips. “You’d better watch it. There’s no professor here.”

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “Whatever will I do? Seriously, Enzo, what the hell do you think you’re going to do to me? I could best you in a duel any day.”

“McGonagall took our wands. What do you think you’re going to do?” he challenged, leaning forward onto the wooden desk.

“Maybe if you’d pay better attention in class, you’d be a bit better at wandless magic by now.” You cocked your head and shot him a teasing smile. 

He could talk a big game, but you’d shut him up perfectly well when you’d slapped him earlier. If he wanted to continue to insult you, you had no qualms with hitting him again. Just as he said, there was no professor in the room with you. You could easily get away with a second assault. 

Suddenly, he stood and crossed to the front of his desk. He leaned his body against it, crossing one ankle in front of the other, and setting back comfortably. His eyes watched your every move. A single strand of hair slipped loose from his expertly styled hair, tracing the line of his perfectly crooked nose. 

“What’s with the attitude today, huh? Have I not fucked you enough this week?” he asked, faking a pout with his reddened lips. He tilted his head to the side mockingly. You scoffed.

“Enzo, don’t be stupid. This has nothing to do with that. I told you in the middle of the argument that I was going to slap you if you didn’t get out of my face. And what did you do?”

“I didn’t back down from you, little girl.”

“And you got hit for it, dumbass.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the desk. While Enzo was the best body you’d had in a long, long while, you weren’t going to let his immaculate dick get in the way of your self-esteem. The Slytherin boys had a bit of a reputation for using girls, getting tired of them, then ditching them and leaving them with half of the confidence they had to begin with.

Enzo had an incredibly sculpted body, almost specifically designed for the rough sport of Quidditch he seemed to excel at. From the first time you saw him zipping through the sky—taut body stretching to catch the Quaffle and send it flying into the goalpost with the force of someone twice his size—you knew you had to have him. And that night, after the Slytherins had won and the after party had concluded, you had laid him down and rode him so ferociously, you’d locked him in from that moment on. As much as he loved to deny it, he needed you badly. 

You smirked.

He slowly waltzed across the classroom. His shoes clicked against the polished floors, echoing slightly off of the empty stone walls. Your eyes trained slowly upwards as he drew closer and closer before he stopped just before your desk. His intention was to hover over you and to make you feel small, but the seething stare you kept imprinted on his bright eyes ensured that you were in charge, not him. 

“Maybe it’s about time you had a bit of punishment,” he suggested. He placed the tips of his fingers on the edge of the desk, gently gliding them along the dented wood. A single fingernail absentmindedly traced some name carved messily into the desk. 

“Punishment?” you laughed. “If anything, it’s you who needs it. Maybe one hit wasn’t enough for you. I seem to recall the first night we fucked, you seemed to like it quite a bit when I’d hit you across the face, just like this morning. Tell me, baby, did you get hard when I did it earlier in front of all of your friends?” 

His fist came down hard on the table. You stood abruptly, backing away from his heaving body. The smirk refused to leave your lips. You pulled away slightly, leaning against one of the desks farther behind the one you previously occupied. You’d never seen him this mad before.

“Oh,” you pouted. “Did I hit a soft spot? God, imagine what your friends think. They know I’ve been fucking with you for the last few months, so what do they think, knowing I have complete control of you?”

“Yeah, right,” he snorted, inching closer to you, weaving in and out of desks and chairs.

“Enzo, baby, let’s be honest,” you smiled. “You’re like a dog on a leash. When I whistle, you come. In both the physical and transporting sense.” You continued to walk backwards, fingers caressing along desks as you passed by them. 

“Oh, you think this is a game? You think you’re in control?” he asked. You nodded sweetly. Anyone could see that you were, even those on the outside looking in.

“Aren’t I?” you asked. “You’re the one chasing after me here.” At your words, he stopped in his tracks and laughed meanly. He watched you closely as he slowly sat himself down in a wooden chair. The light creaking beneath his weight interrupted the echoing of his breathing. 

“Come here, baby,” he said gently, patting his lap with one heavy hand.

“Hmm, no. Try again.” You crossed your arms obstinately. He glanced around absentmindedly for a few moments as if thinking about something before he seemed to land on his solution. A small smile briefly flashed across his lips before disappearing again. Then, his eyebrows knitted together pitifully, as if he was on the verge of crying.

He slid down out of the chair, letting his knees hit the raw ground with a soft thud. His hands came forward, finding their position on the dusty floorboards, fingers streaking in the dirt. On all fours, he slowly began to crawl towards you. A few inches every second, a few breaths between his swollen lips, a few wobbles of his jaw, then he was paused before you with his lips hovering against your bare legs. 

You watched closely as he dragged his bottom lip from your knee up to the hem of your skirt before pulling away. A smile found its way on to your face at his behavior. At this point, all he needed to do was beg for forgiveness and offer his body up for the single use of your personal pleasure. Merlin, that would be the fucking day. 

“What do you say, baby?” you whispered, hand coming down to grab a hold of his jaw. You tilted his face up higher to look at you more directly. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for shouting at you earlier,” he whispered. Your thumb scraped across his mouth. At the sensation, a pink tongue darted between them and caressed gently over your skin. You smiled once more. You could get very used to seeing him on his knees like this. 

“I appreciate that, but I don’t think I can fully forgive you until you seek a bit more penance. In a physical form.” 

At that, you pushed yourself fully onto the desk behind you, legs falling slowly open. You revealed yourself to him. Between your decision to not wear tights today and the fact that your panties were hardly solid fabric as is, you figured it wouldn’t be much of a struggle to get him against you. His eyes glanced down beneath your skirt before flicking back up to you. He swallowed thickly, his throat tracking the shaky movement the whole way down. 

“What can I do for you?” he whispered. 

“Anything you want—just pleasure me and make me believe that you’re sorry.” 

Not a moment passed before he was jumping up from his position on the floor and crossing the remaining space between you two. You yelped as his hands trapped themselves behind your knees and tugged you toward the edge of the desk you sat atop. Before you had a chance to react to his annoying insubordination, he flipped your hips and pressed your chest roughly into the old wood. You shrieked at the assault, feeling a breeze inching its way up your back. His hands had yours tightly trapped behind your back. 

“Enzo! Let me go right fucking now!” you screamed. 

“Nuh uh, shush now,” he tutted. “You told me to pleasure you in any way that I wanted. I’ve decided what I want.” His words were menacing. A chill spread down your spine. 

With both of your wrists collected in his left hand, he freed his right to slip a finger behind his tie and loosen it. He pulled it from around his neck and rapidly fastened it around your wrists, binding them tightly against your back. You yelped at the tension burning against your shoulders.

“Fuck, Enzo! That’s too tight. Loosen it now or I swear—!” you started. His hands were then around your neck, interrupting your empty threats and loosening your tie, as well. You thrashed against his body but his hips pressed against your ass kept you locked against the desk.

“I swear to Merlin, you'd better let me up or I’ll scream.”

“Well, we can’t have any of that.” Suddenly, your tie appeared in front of your eyes in a flash. It slipped between your teeth and pulled tight against the edges of your mouth. He fastened the uniform fabric around the back of your head, careful to avoid tying your hair into it. You grunted rebelliously against the gag, trying to kick at him with your legs. 

“Besides, if I’m going to make you feel as good as I plan to, this’ll come in handy for how loud you’re about to scream.” His voice was a gravelly whisper against your ear, lips brushing against the shell. 

Eventually, you stopped struggling, and, at that point, he chuckled in your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

He leaned up from where he’d been sprawled against your back and slowly pushed your skirt over your hips, revealing your ass to the cold air. You moaned against the gag as his thumb slid slowly through your slit, tracing the wetness that had already started to pool from the edge of your core to your entrance. He hissed at the warmth you gave off.

“I don’t know why you fight me so much—if you’d just lie still and let me fuck you, I think you’d be in a much better mood.” 

Then he was pulling your lace panties to the side and sliding a hot finger into you. You gasped, body tensing against the desk, as he spread you apart. It never mattered how many times he did this—you never got used to the stretch every part of his body provided to you. Before you’d even adjusted to the first one, he pushed a second finger in, and then a third. 

By the time he pulled his fingers from you, you were already dripping down the length of your thighs and the sides of his wrist. Behind you, you heard him place his fingers across his tongue and suck your essence from his skin. 

You rolled your jaw against the desk, propping your chin up to catch a glimpse of the door. The thought of a student or—worse—a professor walking in and catching the two of you made your stomach grumble with nausea. But, on the flip side, it also seemed to ramp up the heat in your abdomen. For some reason, the thought made you all the more ready for him to push himself into you.

Which, luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for. Without another breath, he worked his pants down his waist and legs and placed both hands on your ass. His fingers dug into your skin, massaging the muscle soothingly before laying a heavy slap to your right side. You stifled a scream against the desk. Your skin stung as if it’d been placed against fire. His fingers returned to the skin to move the heat around. 

Once he felt as though the pain had been appeased enough, he laid an even harder slap to your left side. This time, a bit of a shriek did break through the silence. You groaned at the pain, kicking your leg up and making sharp contact with his shin.

“Ah! You little shit.” He slammed his hand down on your ass again. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling. You couldn’t deny it—the thought only accelerated the wetness between your legs more. Fuck, you hated what he did to you. 

He reached around and pulled your gag from between your lips suddenly. The saliva-soaked fabric hung limply around your neck. “Now,” he growled in your ear. “Say you’re sorry for slapping me.”

“But you—” He shut you up by slamming himself into you down to the hilt. He slapped a hand around your mouth as you screamed out. 

“Say you’re sorry.” He began to pump rapidly into you. Every single thrust hammered into every spot you needed him to. He was relentless with his pace.

“I’m sorry,” you cried out against his hand. Your hands clenched tightly where they were wound against your back, fingernails biting into your palms. 

Finally, he pulled himself off of you and gathered your hips into his hands once more. He fucked you hard and rough, demanding that you feel every inch of him. His hip bones slammed against your ass with cracks that echoed like magic. Your eyes rolled upwards at the pleasure he forced into your body. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic. Hitting me then pretending like you run this show. I fuck you, not the other way around. At the end of the night, you’re the one screaming into my shoulder; you’re the one pulling me closer with your legs; you’re the one clenching me with this dripping cunt. And who gets you like this every time—fucking soaked and begging for more? Fucking me, you stupid slut. You think you can treat me like that, huh?” He punctuated his question with an especially hard thrust. You whimpered, teeth clenching briefly around the edge of the desk. “You ever act like that in front of my friends again and I’ll fuck this tight cunt right in front of them and the entire fucking school. I’ll tie you up like I have you right now and let every single student and professor watch as I end you.”

You whined aloud at his words. The images he painted in your mind ramped the sensations he was giving you to a million. Every movement he pushed into you urged you closer and closer to that sweet release you were desperate before. 

As you started to tighten around him, he chuckled meanly. His fingers dug into your hips. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Just like you do every time?”

You said nothing. He grabbed your tied hands and pulled you upwards, forcing your back into his chest. The new angle hit an especially deep spot inside of you. You gasped at the feeling. You were right on the edge of your release.

“Answer me!” he growled.

“Yes! Enzo, please, baby. I’m so fucking close,” you whined aloud. 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” He pushed you back onto the desk and forced himself against you faster and faster until the bubble in your stomach was bursting and raining down across his and your thighs. He groaned as the wet slick painted his skin. 

Once your high began to diminish, he pumped himself into you relentlessly until he was coming hard. He forced every ounce of his spend deep into you until he was finished and caught his breath. Once he was done, he pulled himself out of you.

“I think that ought to teach you, baby.” He pulled his pants back onto his hips and fastened his belt. You could feel his release pulsing out of your core and seeping down your legs. Sweat dripped down your forehead. Your ass was still exposed. 

“Whatever, Enzo. Just untie me,” you said. He paused and walked around to the front of the desk you laid across. You watched his body make every step until he stopped before you. A single hand came down to tilt your chin up towards him, just as you had done to him earlier.

“What was that?” he whispered. His voice was like steel.

“I asked you to untie me.”

“I don’t recall you asking anything. You demanded. Haven’t you learned anything?” he asked, clicking his tongue disappointingly. You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious.

“Okay, I get the point, En. Now, untie me. A professor or student could walk in at any time.”

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” he smirked down at you. You rolled your eyes.

“Merlin. Please!” you sighed. 

“Mm, I think it’s too late for that. Your attitude fucking sucks. I shouldn’t have to ask you to say please. It seems this little session didn’t teach you much of a lesson.” 

He paused for a moment, then smiled decidedly. “Maybe this will, sweetheart.”

“Enzo, what—?” He interrupted you by pulling the gag back over your mouth, retightening it against your mouth and walking back behind you. He smoothed your skirt over the length of your back, ensuring that your ass was exposed, pumped full of his cum. He double-checked that your arms were fastened tightly against your back. You struggled against the desk, cussing his every fucking movement as best you could through the gag. 

He leaned down beside your ear and placed a small kiss to the shell of it. “Let’s learn from our mistakes, baby.”  

Then, with a whoosh, he Disapparated and rendered the room into complete silence. You scoffed in surprise, eyes widening and breath heaving in and out. There was no fucking way he just left you like this. 

The next time you saw Enzo Berkshire, you were going to make sure you returned the fucking favor. Exactly how he had. 

- - -

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[9w1ft]

i declare

thinking about the tortured poets department the song, and the charlie puth line, and how maybe like, the act of declaring he should be a bigger artist helps place the song into the greater timeline.

because it’s a sort of weird thing to say in 2024 of an artist that’s no longer up and coming.

charlie puth got his start in youtube in the late 2000’s and released his debut single in february 2015. and leading up to that he had several EP’s and promotional singles. it made me curious, at what point might the people en masse start to pay him attention? i checked google trends and as you can see here he gets a huge jump between the 2014 and 2015 data.

(he then gets a further jump toward 2016 when he did a promo single featuring megan trainor, and then doing “see you again” with wiz khalifa. (coincidentally this song becomes one of the guest duets featured in the 1989 tour movie))

and i was looking around at articles from this time period, when i ran into this tasty morsel:

so i clicked on through

take a little ride with me

so to summarize, charlie puth had his breakout star peak over the course of roughly 2014-2016, during which he was up for an award at the 2015 MTV VMAs. he doesn’t win, and in fact, he loses out to taylor herself! later on in the article it talks about him going to an after party and hanging out with taylor selena and others. so it had me thinking, i could almost imagine taylor talking with her friends that year or that night, or even declaring to charlie himself in the wake of his loss and her win, in a giddy manner, at the party they are reported as having talked at, that he deserves more success than he gets. in this way i came to the conclusion that the timeframe of 2015-ish (rather than 2023) really fits the spirit of the lyric “we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist”

and

yes.

yes fam.

the 2015 vmas was that vma’s.

that vmas.

let me pull quote an excerpt from the billboard article as i included above, just to emphasize:

4:40 PM: Charlie has the good fortune to walk the carpet in the wake of Taylor Swift’s gaggle of supermodel friends, including “Bad Blood” star Karlie Kloss, leading photographers to alternately yell “Charlie! Karlie! Charlie! Karlie!” as if it were a hectic version of Name Game. While on the carpet, Puth chats with multiple news outlets, and later he says of the dealing with the paparazzi, “It’s amazing that we view people in unnatural states and just love it. I don’t really understand it — it just makes me very uncomfortable. But, whatever. I’m so appreciative to be here.”

such a fun convergence of events, don’t ya think?

and just a few extra points i thought i’d add:

first, i don’t know how many of you remember how taylor was behaving that evening, but don’t you think she was giving major golden retriever energy??

both in how she was chasing after karlie that night,

and also… call me crazy but, her hairstyle??

(also she’s in a houndstooth print, har har)

and i can kind of envision this taylor, who brought the whole bad blood music video crew as her entourage, having more than several bars of chocolate at hand for everyone that night, but ending up eating them all herself 😆

and another thing that helps tie the song to this time period (maybe some of you have guessed?) the line “who else decodes you?” is extra apt because… *da da-da daaaaa*

🤗 karlie had just embarked on her coding journey!

on a more solemn note? i don’t think it requires too much of a stretch of the imagination to see “but you awaken with dread” “i chose this cyclone with you” among other lines pointing to the new layer of stress taylor probably was harboring around being with karlie in public. because this is all taking place in the year directly following kissgate 🥺

so there you have it folks! this is why the tortured poets department is a kaylor song to me 😌

[thatsdemko]

the culer- j.bellingham

masterlist | pairing: Jude Bellingham x gavi!fem!reader. summary: with the pressure of the match at hand, Jude makes an error that’ll cost him. warnings: fluff + angst + the following events in this fic are completely fictional and are not based on real life events. a/n: I dislike Real Madrid but I love Jude because he played for Borussia Dortmund.. he’ll always have a place in my heart I fear

It’s not like the words “Pablo gavis sister” were plastered against your forehead, so how was he supposed to know? it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him, but it certainly wasn’t best when he rounded the corner and hear your soft laugh ring his ears. it was even ten times worse when his breakfast threatened to come up seeing your brothers arm around your shoulders.

you’re squished in between culers, your brothers jersey clung tight against your chest that serves as a major distraction to him. yet, he can’t actually see you. glimpses of you from the tunnel replay in his mind, the ball against his feet should be in the back of the net right now, but he’s stalling.

if he scores, your brother and his team lose. why does it matter to him anyway? this should be an exciting moment here in Barcelona with the crowd booing his name and boosting his adrenaline, so why does he care so much about you?

you’d never had more than just sex. an occasional cuddle and maybe a late night movie cozied up in his bed, but that was it. so you’re unsure why he’s playing with the ball when he’s got a 90% chance of scoring.

“just shoot the damn ball, Jude.” you mutter to yourself. the quicker he gets this over, the sooner the dread and anxiety bubbling in your stomach will fizzle out, and the sooner this is over the better chances your brother or his teammate have in evening the score.

yet there he still stands, unable to decide to shoot or to pass and the crowd wasn’t having it. Jude was usually so quick with his mind, football came easy yet this shot was the hardest one. he knows if he shoots this into the back of the net all chances with you end tonight on this pitch. he knows if he passes, all chances of his team advancing into the next round, end here.

why did it have to be him to decide the fate?

as if on cue, pablo takes the stab. he pulls Jude from his mind games, and decides to end the misery for himself and the crowd. Jude didn’t have much of a reaction time, in fact, he didn’t even put up a fight as the ball was swept from his feet.

“what the fuck man?!” his teammates shout frustrated in his inability to play the damn game.

your nails dig into your palms, watching your brother and his teammate play keep away from the Real Madrid defenders before taking the shot on net and ending the tie once in for all.

Real Madrid lost and wouldn’t advance to the next round.

a smile couldn’t form to your lips. watching Jude’s head hang low, you feel guilty. knowing he’d been riding the highs of the past couple of wins, he should be proud of the fight the team put up today. but those three minutes of torture would haunt him for the rest of his career for every time he saw you.

you.

his head picks up, eyes scanning the mass of fans the sea of red and blue all mesh together. faces booing and others cheering become a blur, but he’s sure you’re out there celebrating. you always expressed how important family was to you, and he was sure your family couldn’t of been happier.

—

you shouldn’t be here. not this late. the match ended hours ago and Jude most likely wasn’t even home yet, but it didn’t stop you from pounding your knuckles against the wood door in hopes he was there. you’re the last person he probably ever wants to chat with, but you needed to check on him. you needed to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up.

you hear the lock click, the door slowly creeps open revealing his dark brown eyes scanning your body. you’d changed into sweatpants in a sweatshirt, a more casual fit than what you were used to wearing to see Jude.

“what are you doing here this late?” his posh accent floods your eardrums, your heart can’t help but thump faster as you move closer to the small crack of the door to find any signs of concern across his face.

“I came to see you.”

“I don’t want to see you.” his bitter words make your heart come to a screeching halt. it’s just the game, you tell yourself, he doesn’t mean these words he’s clearly just upset.

“you played well, ba—Jude. please don’t beat yourself up.”

the door opens up more, like he couldn’t resist. seeing your concern for him mixed his feelings about you. at first, he was done with you. said it was for the best to move on, but seeing you here? with your doe-like brown eyes staring into his, he couldn’t resist.

“I’m the laughingstock of the team now. all because I couldn’t shoot the damn ball.”

“why didn’t you?” the words come rolling off your tongue before you can even process. you’d been asking yourself the question ever since the game ended. why didn’t he just shoot the damn ball? what was stopping him? you couldn’t press the questions in your mind any further when you knew what was stopping him: you. its silly and cliche but it’s the truest that’s been gnawing at him. you were the reason he couldn’t bare to see his own rivals lose.

“I don’t want to discuss this.” his shoulders slumped. he hardly notices you’d pushed the door further and allowed yourself in. he knew your care taking tendencies couldn’t bare to see him this down.

“come on,” you guide him into his bedroom, the curtains are drawn and a Spanish soap-opera plays quietly in the corner of his room. you crawl into his bed and allow him to rest against your body. your nails rake across his skin, careful not to put too much pressure on the black forming bruises.

“you really shouldn’t be here.” he mumbles feeling his shoulders and body sink further into the depths of touch. he hates himself for this, he knows he shouldn’t be falling at the hands of his rivals sister, but yet he can’t stop himself.

“I know,” you say peppering kisses to his throbbing temple, like you knew there was too much pressure there, “I’ll deal with that tomorrow, right now I’m here to deal with you.”

“you’re the better gavi, did you know that?” Jude lifts his gaze to meet yours, your lips briefly touch enough to ghost his.

“I did know that actually.”

he may have lost the game, but one things for sure, he didn’t lose you.

[silversainz]

31 "wanna tie you up and fuck you stupid"

With lando please

Like your at an event and you keep teasing him, maybe he whispers this in readers ear

Thank you

Love your writing btw

# warnings — dom!lando, bratty!reader, dirty talk, p n v, jealousy-sex.

You were doing it on purpose now, and he could see it which only made him ten times more pissed.

He took it lightly at first, knowing your games all too well, the talking with another men in hopes of him seeing that and maybe taking you to the nearest bathroom and fucking you there. Or the little whispers you gave him to the ear, i need you, want you so badly, please please lando, those only gave him a laugh for a while not wanting to give into your pathetic begs and pleads.

He wasn’t falling for your tricks. That is until you decided to pull an massive move on him and take your game a step further and really test his patience. You had grabbed onto the nearest man beside you, taking him to the dance floor where many people were at, hands rubbing against each other and lips all over their bodies as they dance and/or practically fucked to the music.

You danced with the man, hips swinging from side to side, letting him rub his hands all over your stomach, to your thighs, to your neck and even your ass. Lando saw red he took your games lightly but now you took it too far.

You giggled as you saw him swim through the crowd of bodies crashing against each other until he made it to you. “Y/n, lets go” his voice was deep and rough which made you smirk continuing to dance with the man who ignored lando and only kept his focus on you and the way your body moved against him.

Lando scoffed, jaw clenching up with pure anger. He took a step towards you and grabbed onto your hand, taking you from the grip the man had on your body. He had enough of you.

“Aw what happened, was having fun” you simply said, throwing your arms around his shoulders to tug him closer to you.

“Too much fun darling” venom lingered in his voice as he tugged you out of the crowd, going to the nearest bathroom.

“Oh another bathroom huh?” You teasingly said, hand’s already starting to undo the buttons on his shirt. He inhaled roughly, brushing your hands away and pushing you up against the bathroom skin.

“You’re fucking pathetic” you gasped as he roughly pulled your dress up, and tugged your panties down your legs. “Such a needy fucking girl” turning you around to face the mirror he landed an slap to your ass.

“Am not needy” again he scoffed.

“That’s a fucking lie,’ he said, undoing his belt. “God i wanna tie you up and fuck you stupid”

A light giggle escaped your lips as you jokingly wiggled your ass against him, “mm, well then fuck me stupid?” You simply said like the was the most obvious thing ever.

Lando tisked you, pinning your hands behind your back while wrapping then in his black leather belt. “Bratty fucking mouth needs to learn when to shut up” you gasped fist clenching up as he pushed his cock into your cunt, not bothering to set a soft pace or give you an warning.

“See, so fucking silent. That’s what i like to hear from you, bratty girl”

[mushroomwarning]

A sorta long post on why I believe Lightbulb SHOULDN’T win season 2 and instead, the other three should be the candidates for winners

Before I start this off, PLEASE DONT BE MEAN TO ME WAUGHHH I’m just respectfully sharing my thoughts as someone who loves writing and I don’t even hate Lightbulb. I just don’t think she would make a good winner to make the story feel satisfied! So this isn’t LB neg, okay? Also keep in mind, I haven’t seen S2 in a hot minute so maybe I might get SOME things wrong but I’ll try my best to go on with my side.

Lightbulb

To start off, I’ll say it, Lightbulb as the possible winner of II S2 will be the most predictable and bland of the four possible contenders. Out of the four, she’s the one who’s managed to get the most out of the show, new friends, enjoyable experiences, a new pet, etc. She also has gotten a lot of screen time ( I think? ) and is a fan favorite for her wackiness n such. Yeah, she’s a little sad her friends are gone but she could always go and be with them if she just quit.

Her friends are waiting for her, honestly I’d say that’s a prize enough For her story, being able to go back and be with her friends, enjoying her time with them without worrying about the game anymore. She’s shown to be distraught with TT leaves, just go and be with your friends to stop being in this game that’s made people way more miserable. She’s got the winner attitude but it’s just. Boring. Predictable. Something that would not be that fun by a story standpoint tbh, at least in my opinion

The other three, I feel would make great winners in their own ways.

Baseball

I’ll start with Baseball, definitely an underdog and a guy nobody expects to win. That’s why he would be a wild card as a possible winner! It would shatter people’s expectations completely, but here’s the twist…If Baseball were to win, it could possible tie back into his story with Nickel. with Baseball probably thinking Nickel would pressure him to share the prize with him and his thoughts of how much of a doormat he’s been for others, Baseball could make his own decision without others influencing him, giving up the prize and giving it to the second place winner, which could be Suitcase or Knife it doesn’t matter.

THAT WOULD BE COOL WOULDN’T IT? Something that ties together Baseballs story thematically eh eh?

Knife

Anyways, Now onto Knife. He’s different from the other three in that, while he hasn’t lost anything like Suitcase or Baseball ( if I remember correctly), unless you count his dignity, he hasn’t gained anything either, unlike Lightbulb. He’s very much a pretty intelligent and strategical person, very much someone who could easily win if it played his cards correctly. There’s also a bit of a lesson he learns from S1 to S2, due to Trophy.

He learns to become less rash, mellowing out after Trophy gave him a bit of a reality check to the way he acts, even if the way he showed him wasn’t the best in the slightest, Knife learns to control his temper, mellowing out and instead uses his smarts to advance more in the game without relying on others and even gives advice to people Like Suitcase, Pickle and Microphone as he goes on.

He learns to be a better person and would honestly make a good contender for first, to reward him for his growth and change, or maybe second place if you want to show his new found humbleness in regards to his emotions

Suitcase

As for suitcase, while she’s sort of predictable as well, she isn’t as predictable as Lightbulb due to the events that she’s gone through and honestly is sort of the most deserving thematically to win out of everyone. Unlike Lightbulb, she’s lost a lot, not really gaining many friends excluding Balloon and gained mental health issues due to the treatment Nickel was giving her. This game has not treated her well in the slightest and she gains growth as time goes on, learning to stand up for herself and speak on her own.

She very much deserves the prize but at the same time, I don’t think she would care if she won or lost. She’s lost a lot and learned from her experiences in the game

Conclusion!

BUT YES. these are my reasons for why Lightbulb should not win. The others have very nice thematic reasons for why they could win but Lightbulb basically gained way WAYY more then they have out of the experience

But yeah, my ranking would go

Lightbulb- not a winner, Fourth place

Baseball - First place ( gives up prize) or Third

Knife - First or Second place

Suitcase - First or Second place too

[yuurei20]

Hey there! Absolutely love all the work you do here, it's really helped me as a newer fan of Twst get a better grasp on the characters and lore, so thanks a lot!!!

I'm not sure if it's ever specified anywhere, but do we know what exactly the name "Twisted Wonderland" encompasses in-universe? Like, is it the name of the whole planet, or a continent, or some other established grouping?

I know we do have a map that shows a lot of the characters homelands, but as far as I recall, it doesn't include the Scalding Sands. Which beyond it being the homeland of Kalim and Jamil, there was also a whole in-game event there that fleshed out the environment and culture, yet do we even know where it would hypothetically be on a map?

I also remember Sam talking about the cultures of the East during the New Years event, so there is presumably more beyond the map we know, but I just don't know if it has ever been clarified? Madol/Thaumarks are also the only currency we've ever seen, which could make it similar to Euro in how a whole continent uses it, or maybe there's something else to it.

Apologies for the long ask, I just found the implications to be fascinating depending on what little info we may have on the matter!

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! ^^ And you are much too kind!! ♡

From comments like “Twisted Wonderland’s got a number of educational institutions for cultivating magicians” and “Twisted Wonderland would be forever enveloped in winter’s cold, harsh embrace,” I do believe that “Twisted Wonderland” is meant to be the name of the entire place to which the prefect has been relocated! 

There are other times, however, where this can sound odd: the entire world (is it a world?) has the same traditional event (Beanfest)? The entire world has the same kind of fire and police organizations? Halloween is one of the biggest events in the entire world? Icicle mushrooms are one of the three greatest delicacies in the entire world? 

It is not impossible, but it is curious! Is it maybe not literally the entire planet, but possibly just a hemisphere?

(But is it a planet at all? Could it possibly be a dimension? 👀 We know that the dorms exist in dimensions of their own--are those pocket dimensions inside the dimension that is Twisted Wonderland?)

Except, as you say, Kalim and Jamil’s home country is not even on the main “world” map and yet it is still considered a part of Twisted Wonderland (as far as I can tell), so we know that “Twisted Wonderland” consists of more than what is being shown to us!

We have never been shown any borders of “this is where Twisted Wonderland ends and where another place begins,” or even heard that any place besides Twisted Wonderland exists here, so with the information we have at the moment I would say that everywhere we have heard of thus far is within the boundaries of Twisted Wonderland—whatever it is that may be 👀 (Limbo?)

Also as you say Sam does manage having eastern branches of his Mystery Shop, but Sam is very mysterious 👀

We technically do not even know if he is a mage (he does not seem to have a visible magestone, unlike the rest of the staff, and being magicless would tie in well to the character upon which he was based), or anything about these Eastern shops! It does not seem like it would be out of character for Sam to have access to inter-dimensional travel and, as aforementioned, his hometown cannot be found on the map 👀

Is Sam like the prefect, moving in between Twst and the world from which the prefect came (and maybe even Japan itself, hence his "Eastern branches")? I am pretty sure that there is nothing in-game to insinuate that this is the case, but it is fun to think ^^

Also as you say, Madol/Thaumarks seem to be a universal currency! I like your comparison to Euro very much!

While things like having the same traditions/currency/events/etc. throughout an entire planet might be a little unrealistic (in this game about dragon princes and mermaids who do parkour ww), it is possible that things were simplified just for the sake of keeping it all manageable within the visual novel medium ^^

My apologies for not having any answers! I do not believe that there is any information missing from what you already know, and while it is all very vague and curious, I agree it is also fun to think about! ^^

[affluent-havoc]

Post Game

Marriage

Before I go into my little blabbering session about my own junk, like, gosh! Doing this was so cool and I feel I've improved so much! Seeing all the other pieces done by others was really awesome too! The highlight in fact which is par for the course of this kinda stuff. But still! Everyone did so well and freaking amazing! So much pretty arts! So many differing interpretations and art styles. Golly! Should totally do something like this again cus this was such a nice experience :))

Post Game - This one's pretty simple. Put them in their Future Foundation suits which are just suits behind a beach that is vaugly Jabberwock. And, they blush cus gay. Had fun with the TV effect and making it somewhat old looking. That's about it. Though, the more I look at it, the more Byakuya looks like he could be snapped in half like spaghetti which I guess is something ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Marriage - This one is the one I did first and is a lot more refined. Decided to take this one in a bit of a different direction too. Instead of them actually getting married, they instead are just playing around with a fake certificate that they photoshopped and printed from online. At least for me, how I read them is that they don't actually get married. Like, they live together in the same place, sleep in the same bed even, but they don't get married. OR, if they do get married, it's small and just a legal document. No big wedding or anything as, the time they are probably at the age to marry, they're already tired of big stuff like that. It'd be a big event and they'd want something more small and quaint instead, either hanging out together or maybe it's Makoto's idea to invite their friends along for the occasion. This is just how I interpret them though. Also, I find it funnier if they just fake it or they never do but Byakuya SO put Makoto in his will and Makoto also secretly put Byakuya in his and they just never tell the other until one of them croaks first. Either that or Makoto says it openly that Byakuya's in his will and the heir just laughs it off, underestimating Makoto and his determination on the will. Also, speaking of them dying, if it's Byakuya first, old man Makoto's taking the gesture well though emotional cus the rich man dead. If it's Byakuya though, he's obviously sad but also sees the will and a part of him goes "CURSE YOU, MAKOTO!!". Not seriously but because Byakuya's thinking of how Makoto didn't need to give him stuff after his death cus I feel Makoto wouldn't skimp out. He's putting all his family and pals in his will as one final send off. He'd make sure that will was the best it could be! Also, I feel Byakuya would feel weird that he's in the same will as Makoto's family and, no matter how long they've been together, it's just so strange. Even when he's gone, he still has a way to make him feel. Gosh, this got kinda sad um... One other thing I wanna mention of this piece is that Makoto either stole Byakuya's tie or he got his own matching one. Also, Byakuya in pretty dress! I had to! Oh, and Makoto totally got help writing his name cus it's in English and Makoto's kinda ass at it. They are totally standing for a picture too. Maybe they got one of the gang to take the pic or they set it up with one of their phones. Or maybe Byakuya just got a really expensive photographer for this and also booked a painter to paint this photo into a painting to put on their bedroom wall. That is equally plausible. And to think that I contemplated and even teased the idea in my head of drawing these two getting fake married with an Elvis impersonator. That might have been a bit TOO goofy though O_O

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I know ramshackle was put in the game more for convenience than anything, but I wonder if the story will ever tell a bit about its past and how it was originally used? if there was someone that represented the dorm like the great seven does with the others or if it was a dorm before nrc became the way it is today? (like maybe the dorms didn't represent one of the 7 at the beginning?)

I'd personally really love to get to know more about Ramshackle dorm! ^^ There's so many fan theories on the topic (and especially about what led to its collapse and who, if any, the dorm is meant to be "representative" of), but each one is wildly different from the last and there doesn't seem to be any consensus in the fandom about it. We don't really know a lot about Ramshackle other than the general idea that it was once considered a dorm, but has since fallen from grace and is no longer recognized as one. What happened to its students? What was the event that led to Ramshackle's current destitute state? There's a lot more to this story that we just aren't seeing yet.

One common misconception I see is that Eliza (the Ghost Bride) claims Ramshackle dorm as part of her fallen kingdom, which may implicate some kind of ghostly or supernatural being as Ramshackle’s figure. However, this is not actually true. Eliza does come from a fallen kingdom AND she uses Ramshackle dorm as her base of operations—but the two are not directly connected. Crowley sites that Eliza chooses to use Ramshackle every year on her hunt for her prince “out of all the decrepit, abandoned dwellings in this world”. This implies Eliza could literally pick any place, but happened to pick Ramshackle (most likely to kick off the event story, and/or because it’s implied Ramshackle is an attractive dwelling place for ghosts, hence in part why the Ramshackle ghosts haunt it).

I also wonder??? If Ramshackle was even modeled after a particular "figure" to begin with? I really do not get those vibes at all; there is no particularly noteworthy iconography that would tie it down to one very "clear cut" classic villain (assuming it is one, like the others in the G7). Why would Ramshackle be the only "abnormal" dorm??? And speaking of the G7??? I find it odd that no one ever makes reference to a figure like them for Ramshackle. It's not like any character ever says there's a "G8"??? Or even speaks of a figure of equal greatness to them outside of the G7 (similar to the Just Judge at Noble Bell College). Like, even if Ramshackle itself is no longer relevant, that doesn't mean a historical figure linked to Ramshackle would be irrelevant too. Their deeds and accomplishments still exist. You'd think that would be important to bring up, even off handedly or in a vague mention. (Or is this a part of the “history can be erased an manipulated” stuff Lilia brought up??)

In canon, Pomefiore is said to be the oldest dorm (so unless there are extenuating circumstances, I don't think Ramshackle existed in a dormitory capacity until after at least Pomefiore was a thing). The wording can also imply that the other dorms came after (ie Pomefiore was established first, or the dorm system itself came much later). It's also interesting to note that, unlike the other dorms, Ramshackle does not exist in its own pocket dimension, but rather on the same main campus plot of land that houses NRC's other facilities. I wonder if this detail is actually historically significant somehow.

I really hope that some of these questions (if not all of them) will be answered in the future 😅 I feel like they are very important for world-building and shouldn't be left to the boring explanation of "well, it's the player/plot convenience, so..."

[zgvlt]

CRUSH x CRASH ruggie bucchi x reader

summary: Ruggie, your fake boyfriend, is your date to yet another wedding.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff + attempt at humor, 3.1k+ words, not beta read

author's notes (see end for more): i was in a bit of a writer's slump with some newer stuff i was working on, so i picked an older draft to finish. i'm glad it worked out in the end for me. anyway, if this is something that bothers you, reader does not talk about getting married :) the setting is just a wedding

[you can also read this on AO3]

Ruggie likes weddings more than most people. Sure, lots of people find them awfully stuffy, terribly expensive, a huge waste of time, but not Ruggie—even if he does think a lot of them are too fancy shmancy for their own good! Like, what’s with the wedding industry being so costly? Does it seriously cost that much money to rent a venue? Why do dresses and tuxes cost an arm and a leg? Are the to-be-weds actually expected to pay for the flights of their guests if they’re coming out of town?

That aside—he’s not planning a wedding so those questions have nothing to do with him!—Ruggie adores weddings, enough to crash them and celebrate with the newlyweds! 

Not that he crashes them, not at all in technical terms, has not really needed to considering you were more than willing to invite him as your plus-one for every event with catering or an all-you-can-eat buffet, all events including weddings! Birthdays and gender reveals were all fine and dandy too, but sometimes those adult party games could get embarrassing, even if they had some snazzy (and usually practical!) prize to be won.

But really, none better than a good wedding.

So sure, maybe tuxedos weren’t exactly his style—he’s worn the same one to pretty much every wedding, but guys tend to get passes on that sort of thing—but it’s really not that bad having to dress up every, what, once or twice a month… and sure, maybe he’s a bit selective with the wedding speeches he actually finds sweet, but he has the decency to clap after each and every one (and even let out a whistle or holler if the atmosphere is casual enough!)

There was also the issue that maybe some of the time that should have been spent chatting up other guests was spent discreetly putting food in the tupperware for him to take home—not like most of them would have finished the food anyway! It would be a waste if it had just gone in the trash!—but he’s the first to ask and lead you to the floor when you seem like you’re in the mood for dancing.

So okay, maybe he doesn’t like every aspect of the arrangement (it’s hard to care about it 100% when most of the attendees are strangers or acquaintances at most) but, well, you were his friend and there was bound to be good food, especially the more extravagant weddings, so attend he shall.

“What color do I have ‘ta wear? Don’t wanna be stared at like I’m the asshole for not following some dumb dress code.”

Like, why the hell would guests have to wear certain colors or prints? Wasn’t it good as long as you didn’t outshine the bride(s) or however the rule went? As if he could even wear something glamorous and bling bling enough for that to happen anyway.

“Sunrise colors, so probably red and orange and yellow… maybe blue as well?” 

Excellent, Ruggie thought, absolutely excellent, considering he actually owned a yellow tie!

No need for renting, no need to borrow one from Leona (again), no need to ask Kalim, who would have probably sent him a bunch of way too expensive ties with exquisite patterns and stitching, and definitely no need to ask some other guy who would probably ask for a favor or something which, no thank you, he’ll just break the dress code and play dumb.

“I’ll go wear yellow, then,” Ruggie announced, just in case you wanted to, well, match or something. Wouldn’t be the first time (and the first time was a complete accident!) so he could probably handle the teasing… probably.

“Ah, one more thing,” he asked, suddenly remembering something—his part of the deal when it came to attending these events with you. “So our, y’know, our usual—do we have to do that there too?”

“Hmm? Do what, Ruggie?” you asked, feigning forgetfulness. 

With how many different occasions he’s accompanied you to over the past year (this would be the seventeenth, and the year was still a few months away from ending), not to mention the amount totaling from all the years he’s known you, he knew that you were very well aware of what he was talking about.

“Y’know…! Pretend that me and you, you know, that we’re… Oi! Can your laughter, you’re at fault here!”

He gave in anyway, only because he still found himself embarrassed whenever it was brought up. It was easier once he was settled in, but the process was still… yeah. 

Honestly, he doesn’t really have much of a (valid, not embarrassing to say) excuse for how and why the whole ordeal still flustered him even after how many years has passed since the arrangement—it just does. 

Well, okay, there’s an actual reason, but best not to speak it into existence in case you find out and make fun of him for that too.

He just has to be satisfied knowing that in some ways, he gets the best of you as well.

“Sorry, sorry!” you said, appeasing him with your laughter, “No, no, there’s no need to pretend we’re dating this time! The groom is pretty chill about the invites, so it’s no big deal if I bring a friend along.”

“Cool, cool,” he replied, not really feeling any smidge of the relief you were expecting him to. He feigned a sigh anyway, just to pretend he did. “‘S not that it’s a big deal if I had to.”

“Of course not,” you agreed, “must be like a second skin at this point, huh?”

He scratched the back of his neck as he laughed.

“Ah, yeah, somethin’ like that!”

Second skin might have been the right way to describe it, though Ruggie’s beginning to realize that there are problems as well with how natural everything’s become between the two of you. 

This whole fake dating business seemed like all pluses at the start—hanging out with and getting to go to snazzy events with a friend, eating good food, getting all the perks of socializing without having to make too many promises and commitments. Those were all pretty fantastic, really!

The issue is, though, that once you become someone’s fake significant other, you simply can’t stop fake dating them because of the mutual friends and acquaintances you happen to share with the other person. The degrees of separation have decreased significantly since becoming your go-to partner to these things.

“Ruggie! It’s so good to see you!” He gets scooped up into a tight hug—if his personal space is gonna get invaded, can they at least mind the tail?!—by some person he attended the wedding of some months ago. What was their name again…? 

“Yeah, good to see ya too, man!” Well, he can’t say he’s all that upset about seeing a sort of familiar face or two, especially a face of a genuinely generous person, but he’s not sure he has much to say, really. Other than your mutual friends, he mostly lets you or the other people decide what to talk about and he sort of just improvs from there. If he ends up getting asked about work and life and such, he’d end up drawing a blank (too hectic and too little he’d be willing to say to an almost stranger).

“Since you’re here, it probably means you’re still dating my cousin, huh?” 

The person he had been talking to before the interruption—the groom of today’s affair—was momentarily confused, before grinning at the revelation.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah? Did Ruggie not tell you he’s the S.O. of…?”

Basically, people know him as your boyfriend, and he will be introduced as your boyfriend even when neither of you had the intention of pretending that day for the sake of not blowing your cover. 

Like, it’s not as if he’s gonna fake break up with you or anything anytime soon, so spreading the fake news it is!

Really, ain’t he just such a good friend for keeping up the act to the best of his abilities? Not that it was all that hard or nothing, it’s kind of just like lighting a match—after a few flicks, it’s already registered in his brain that he’s supposed to be your date. 

“I thought the two of you were just friends?” The groom wiggled his eyebrows in the way annoying adults tended to when they felt like teasing the children in the village about their crushes. 

Except Ruggie was already a few years past drinking age so he doesn’t really feel like playing into that game, even if the guy’s your friend. He’ll just answer quickly and move on (back to you, and maybe the buffet table as well).

“Shishishi… It’s an inside joke we love to tell people,” he explains, a well-practiced excuse at this point. “Started out because people kept telling us we’d make a pretty good couple not knowing we were already dating, so we kinda just committed to the bit!”

Yeah right! The irony of it all, if that was the right category it fell into.

“So this has been going on for a while then, huh!”

“Yeah, something like four years, one month, and eight days,” of fake dating, Ruggie said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal that he’s been keeping himself single for all that time so he can continue to fake date you. He’s just never felt the compulsion to stop, and clearly you haven’t either considering you’ve been single all that time as well!

“You can’t just say something like then get the exact numbers down to a T, puppy.”

Likely wondering what was taking him so long to return to your side, you decided to finally grace him with your presence, wrapping an arm around his waist. He pretends it happens frequently enough to the point that he’s not flustered about it.

“Means ya have it memorized too, kitty,” he replies, deflecting. “Not that big a deal. Also, hyenas aren’t even part of the dog family, y’know!”

“Okay okay, whatever you say!” you laugh, nudging the groom with your free arm. “Sorry I lied to you about him being my boy space friend and not my boyfriend. I saw an opportunity to lie and I took it!”

“You know what? I’m not even surprised,” the man says, shaking his head before turning to the hyena once more. “So, Ruggie, since the two of you have been together for several years now, do the two of you plan on getting married any time soon, too?”

Questions like that are meant to be heavy hitting, meant to be discussed for more than just a few minutes, but Ruggie manages to answer it swiftly. 

Again, not the first time he’s been asked, but his answer has never really changed from all those years ago.

“Only if my partner wants to,” he replies. He grabs the hand you have wrapped around him, pushing it down so he can clasp onto your fingers properly, like a dutiful boyfriend would. “I’d be happy as long as we have a future together.”

Considerate. That was how Ruggie was known to… pretty much everyone you had introduced him to that didn’t know the truth. He was a considerate boyfriend, one who never spoiled or babied you too much, but one always eager to help or guide you with whatever it was you needed.

You saw him as considerate too, you let him know, a considerate friend. It was why you approached him with this whole fake dating shenanigans in the first place, and why you continued to rely on him over and over again.

“I just don’t know what I’d do with you, really,” you bemoaned, “you’re seriously the best, you know that?”

“Shishishi… if you wanted me to comfort you, you could just ask,” Ruggie replied with a grin, more receptive to the compliment than he wanted to let on. “Whether you want to cry at their speeches and use my tie as a tissue, or ask me to refill your plate with something in particular, I’ll do it.”

You smiled, your appreciation extending from your lips to the tips of your fingers, reaching out to comb through his hair gently. 

“Your tie’s too nice for that,” you admitted, your fingers trailing down to his neck to caress the fabric. He might have misheard, but he thought he heard someone murmur about public display of affection… as if a wedding didn’t scream P.D.A. already. Regardless, he lowers his eyes to watch the movement of your hands, only a little bit mesmerized by how gently you treat him at times like these. He’s used to you not being afraid to fool around with him, which is nice, but… but this is nice, too.

Yikes, you’d think you were cupping his face or something by the way he reacted—it was just his tie, for sevens’ sake!

“I’ve always liked how you looked in yellow,” you said, and he could do nothing but melt. That’s all he can do, considering if he tried to speak he would probably whimper and purr and let you have your way with his heart… But you look like you want him to say something, so he should try to do that. It can’t be that bad! He just has to clear his throat and make sure he actually vomits out words instead of feelings.

You can praise me more! was what he wanted to say. Instead, he said,

“Ahh, ya look very charming too in…!” It’s a good enough start, but he trailed off when he realized he couldn’t really pinpoint just one thing he liked. What, was he gonna say you looked good in yellow too? You said it first! He’d just be repeating at that point! “Agh, you’re just cute…! You don’t have to laugh at me for that!”

“I’m not making fun of you!” you explained quickly—not that you needed to, he knew you weren’t, and the clarification didn’t make his cheeks cool in the least bit. It’s like the heat of his hometown all over again! “You’re acting like you wouldn’t tease me for the very same thing!”

“Who, me? Your Ruggie? Never!” he said, lying as easily as he breathed. “So go on, might as well ask me for a few more things while I’m in the mood to be all sweet with ya~”

“Well… what if I want to ask you to dance?”

He laughed, as he tended to in many situations, but he laughed then because he knew his leading you to the dance floor would be inevitable—it was just a matter of time. When you laugh with him, he knows it’s because you knew the very same.

“You know my rhythm ain’t that good, especially when the music is…” He paused to listen to the music, having been too invested in you to pay attention to the tunes. “...classical? Like, piano and violin instrumental and all.”

“Then I’ll let you step on my feet—once!” 

“You’re only sayin’ that because ya know I won’t,” Ruggie said, grinning, “well, not on purpose anyway! Shishishi…”

They’ve danced this dance before… not literally, or maybe literally, many wedding playlists and bands repeat the same songs anyway, but the whole let’s dance and pretend we’re an engaging and fun couple kind of dance specifically. He’s not really sure why they continue doing so, most people only really care about who the newlyweds dance with, but once they’ve started they never really had it in them to stop. 

At least, that was how he felt about it.

“‘Times it feels like the first time,” Ruggie said, hands gesturing vaguely in the air before they take their place next to yours. You interlock your fingers with his in response. “This whole thing. The date and dance thing.”

“Awkward?”

“S’ not the right word,” he replied, “I always feel comfy around you.”

“Exciting?”

“Fun,” he supplied, “somehow this has never gotten boring even after four years–”

“–and one month, and eight days,” you were already smiling the whole time (he would know—when he wasn’t staring at his feet to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally hurt you, he’s been staring at your face shamelessly), but your eyes crinkle a little bit more. He thinks you might’ve stolen his abilities because he mirrors your very movements. “Or is that nine days counting today?”

“Nah, I already counted today as the eight.”

The look you have on your face resembled approval, as if you were praising him for remembering so well. 

“We’ve never celebrated an anniversary, have we?” you whispered, as though too embarrassed to let anyone else hear. Ruggie doubted anyone would, too preoccupied with themselves and everyone else to pay attention to a couple of guests dancing, but he leans into you anyway to hear you better.

(He doesn’t need it, he can hear you fine and dandy with the ears he has, but neither of you comment on the action.)

“Is there somewhere you wanna go? Or do?” he asked, genuinely interested in what your idea of an ideal celebratory date would be. For future reference.

“Your hometown would be nice.” The answer very nearly has him yelping, but he managed to restrain himself by squeezing your hands a little tighter. His eyes look around wildly before gawking at you. You know what his hometown is like, but more than that, you know what that place means to him, the people there that he looks out for whenever he can.

“You’re sounding very much like a real partner right now,” Ruggie said, awed at the unspoken revelation, “makes me wonder why we put that fake label in the first place if we were just gonna reserve ourselves for each other.”

“Because we’re fools,” you replied, glad to be on the same page as him, “and we’ve just been acting as the other does all this time without stepping out of line.”

“Was there even a line in the first place?” The both of you shared a laugh. 

“So, what do you think? About that hometown date?”

You probably know exactly what he thinks about it. You’ve always had a way with his heartstrings and he’s done nothing to stop you from doing so, so you know his entire being feels very warm and bubbly just about now, has been the entire time he’s had you by his side, really.

“Help me sneak some sweets out later,” Ruggie murmured quietly, “in the tupperware. The brats back home will love it.”

“One step ahead of you,” you muttered back, a voice with barely contained mischief, “while you were busy chatting up the groom, I already snuck some food out to the car.”

“What the hell,” he breathed out, “I think I might have fallen in love with ya all over again.”

end notes | masterlist of all my works

[ 1 ] Title's stylization was inspired by TOMORROW x TOGETHER, the kpop group. There's no actual inspiration from TXT, though. I just like it.

[ 2 ] Ruggie and Reader have been to seventeen events that year because Ruggie is 17 (in TWST canon, he's older in the fic), and they've "fake" dated for four years, one month, and eight days because Ruggie's bday is 4/18. I just like choosing numbers with purpose or as references is all. Reader only questions if it's been 18 or 19 days and doesn't question the other parts because they're also counting. They're whipped, amen.

[ 3 ] When writing Ruggie, I was careful in how I portrayed him and his attitude towards food and money, mostly I didn't want that becoming his personality. Big-scale weddings are often quite expensive and wasteful, and while Ruggie has his insights about that based on his background, but he also knows that people do derive joy from that and he can appreciate it (basically, he's not hateful even though he can't relate). Not the main point of the fic, but putting Ruggie in that setting I felt like I had to describe his feelings regarding it a bit.

[ 4 ] I made reader call Ruggie "puppy", then I wondered if he should actually be "kitty" instead. I had to search whether hyenas were part of the cat or dog family, only to find out they belong to their own family! Kept puppy in anyw.

[ 5 ] I asked some followers what nickname Ruggie would call his s/o and kitten came up. Makes sense, he says it in a voice line… but for the life of me I cannot type it out because of how the nickname became tainted due to "discord kittens" arghh it felt too silly… I'll commit to it next time when the context is better!

[ 6 ] ( “Because we’re fools,” you replied, [...], “and we’ve just been acting as the other does[…]” ) This is referencing Ruggie's UM/SS literal translation, "March of fools". Though in this case, I suppose it's a dance of fools, huh!

[ 7 ] As mentioned, this was something short to help get me out of my writing slump. This has been in my drafts since June and the original "june wedding prompt" fic I meant to write before I scrapped it for the jade wedding fic instead. I decided to finally write it since, compared to before where I only really enjoyed writing longer one-shots (around 5k-15k words), I've gotten more comfortable writing shorter one-shots :>

[junk-lion]

i have to write approximately one thousand words about Void Stranger's bad ending before i explode

i recently started playing system erasure's sokoban masterpiece, void stranger, again after playing it a little on launch before getting distracted. previously, they made zeroranger, one of my favorite games ever, to the point where i got a tattoo.

i reached the bad ending in void stranger 2 days ago, and to say that i have been Affected is putting it lightly. the whole thing is very obviously incredible, but there is one aspect of it that i can't stop thinking about in particular: the song that's used, and how it ties into the themes of the game and the actual gameplay in this ending. so i want to break it down a bit and put down into words what i've been thinking about.

please keep in mind that i haven't finished the game yet, so please don't mention anything that may or may not happen beyond this ending so i don't get spoiled, thank you!

let's talk about void stranger's bad ending below the cut, as this contains heavy spoilers. i will assume that you have played this game before, so i won't go too deep into previous events of the game unless they're particularly relevant. i will also be mentioning some future events, particularly events during and leading up to the other ending, so i would not advise reading if you haven't gone past this sequence, or if you plan to play this game, which you should. please. i'm begging you

when you reach floor b225 while voided, having given up your humanity after death in order to become immortal and live forever, the following sequence plays out very differently than if you'd reached there otherwise by keeping yourself alive. the song that plays during this sequence, Voided, has left a considerable impact on me, and i really, really want to talk about how it did this and why, and maybe how it also has had such an impact on you.

i'd like to examine three different aspects of the song and how it's used: the composition/instrumentation/structure of the song, the lyrics, and how these both tie into what's actually happening on the screen, as there's a lot to talk about in each aspect.

The Composition

the first thing i noticed when i started really thinking about voided: it's in a 3/4 time signature. this is the same signature used in waltzes; the type of song that lily and lady gray dance to earlier in one of the memory sequences. from the very first moment, this song is intrinsically about gray's motherly feelings for lily, albeit in a very subtle manner. voided doesn't feel like a song that's in 3/4 to me, which is part of what made this hit me so hard. subtly and quietly, the song accompanying gray's descent is about lily.

the next aspect that is far more obvious about the song is the fact that it has vocals. this is a totally new element for void stranger, with no songs previously having vocals(i believe). initially, the song presents itself without them, feeling like a very normal, if rather somber, area theme, revealing its vocals around the time you've completed a couple of floors. with the introduction of vocals, voided lets you know that this is clearly a point where something big has changed, and very quickly it becomes apparent that it isn't good.

to begin with, voided begins very simply with a lot of clarity. a bare, quiet droning synth note that slowly gets a little louder, with it cutting out to give way to void stranger's signature basic sine wave providing some blips and bloops. shortly after, the vocals begin accompanied with some occasional bass notes. gray is still focused and determined without much else on her mind, all she's thinking about is lily and reaching her, communicated by the sparseness of the instruments. even in the first chorus, the chord progression is just some simple left hand piano chords. at this point, there is a slight hint that something is going wrong, as some of the notes are chosen very carefully to add tension, which slowly ramps as the song progresses.

at the end of the first chorus, a very tense, unnerving ascending synth note accompanies a break of silence with just echoing delay, which gives way to the song's first percussion, a single kick drum along with heavy bass notes - the song is becoming heavier and darker. when the second verse begins, the piano's left hand becomes slightly more complex, with soft strings in the background providing a sense of melancholy. the kick drum grounds us even as things become tenser and heavier.

the chords used at this point are a fairly simple minor progression, which is a large part of what adds that tension. the 6-7-5-1 used in the first half of the chorus is very, very determined, with the following 4-5-6-7 ascending progression that doesn't resolve itself to the root note until after the brief silence capitalizing on that determination while providing some more tension. the second half of the second verse("in this state of oblivion..."), there's a similar progression, a 1-6-4-6-7, which gives a similar state of tension and determination. however, it does something a little different here. one bar after the 7th chord, right after the vocals on "my walls stay strong" fade out, it ascends by one semitone to a note that isn't in the natural minor scale, one semitone below the root note(note: i am not knowledgeable enough about keys to know if this is in an uncommon minor key, so i'm working under the assumption that this song is in D# minor). this isn't extremely uncommon, especially in the songs in system erasure's games, but it is a move that adds a huge amount of tension to the song, aided by the chord change happening after one bar rather than two as in the rest of the verse. this is further amplified by the song not resolving to the root note as the second chorus begins, going back to the 6-7-5-1.

in the second chorus, a new percussion element is added; a set of sleigh bells. outside of christmas songs, i find these add a very cold, lonely feeling to songs, especially songs like this that are slow, sparse and in a minor key. final fantasy x's "out of the frying pan" is a great example of this. they're also placed exactly halfway between kick beats, subtly increasing the pace of the song along with the left hand piano increasing in complexity in terms of rhythm and melody.

as the breakdown begins, all elements besides the piano fall away briefly, providing a brief moment of quiet and clarity, before the other elements come back gradually. the droning synth in the backround bends up and down, a very uncomfortable sound, as the vocals come back, reusing clips from earlier but with heavy delay and reverb, giving them an otherworldly sense, as though she is calling out from somewhere far away, somewhere expansive yet empty. they're processed enough that you can just about tell which lyrics they are, but the wailing fades in and out and blends into itself. gray is becoming more desperate, losing her clearness of mind as she goes on and on without end. in terms of chord progression, the breakdown starts at the root note and just descends down the scale, repeating that over and over - a literal descent for gray, mental and physical. in the last 4 measures of the first part of the breakdown, there is again a double time chord change - until this point, the chords have changed every bar, but on the last bar of every measure, the chord changes twice, once at the start of the bar and again halfway through. for the first of these, it remains in the scale, but on the last three measures, the final chord change is a single semitone down, mimicking the technique in the second verse, but descending rather than ascending. things are becoming even more hopeless as she descends.

going into the second half of the breakdown, there is another, larger break of quiet, permeated only by the echoing delay of the synth and distorted vocals, with a piercing ascending drone cutting through. then, every instrument comes back at once. contrasting with the calm but distressed silences earlier in the song, it is a wall of sound, abundantly chaotic, and it makes clear how bad things have become. by briefly pulling back and fully reintroducing everything at once, it juxtaposes gray's previous calm and focus with her internal chaos and panic as everything comes back all together.

at this point, the chord progression changes to a purely chromatic descending progression, that is, a progression that descends by one semitone every change(D#, D, C#, C...). it also has the same usage of a chord change halfway between bars at the end of each measure. this progression repeats over and over, almost bludgeoning you with its weight. the percussion also becomes more complex again; the kick pattern intensifies, including triplets for a somewhat offbalance feeling, as thought you're being dragged along by the hand, along with a few different types of cymbals. the contrast between the different types of harsh cymbals add a lot to the chaotic feeling.

going back to the chord progression, the chromatic bass notes and left hand of the piano contrast heavily with the melody, which stays purely in key. notably this is a leitmotif that plays at several points in the game(i'm not quite sure where, but it is definitely one that's been heard a lot at this point). while the chords clash extremely harshly with this, the melody feels like it's barely holding onto what gray once was. both are repeated over and over, the remainder of gray's determination and lucidity fighting with the chaos and her urge to give up.

after several repeats of this, the progression and melody stays the same, but the vocals from the chorus are reintroduced, albeit with more reverb and delay(though not quite as much as the barely coherent vocals from earlier). she cries out from that far away void, literally begging herself to hold on over and over as she descends repeatedly with the chords, out of key, dissonant and chaotic.

as we reach the last line of the chorus, the progression changes to a 6-7-6-7, regaining a little bit of that determination. she cries "my loss is mine" in a new way, a more mournful, forlorn way, almost through gritted teeth with a wavering voice. with the determined, but still chaotic and desperate chords and the declaration of ownership of loss, she is determined to hold onto it as everything falls apart within her. in the very last bar before the lines about her grievance and sadness repeat for the last time, there is again another chord change halfway through, another ascending chromatic note that ascends one more semitone at the start of the next measure, resolving itself before going back to the descending chromatic progression, which plays one more time. they are accompanied by dramatic string chords which cut through now. for the final measure, we get a 6-7 chord progression, one last little bit of determination, before everything except the vocals abruptly cuts out. "my loss", she wails, painful vocals layered on top of each other, transition to a much gentler, painful exhalation of "is mine". it's sang with only one voice. with the distress and chaos cutting out, almost like she has snapped, the very last thing that gray is left with in the silence is her loss of lily, her loss of her life, her loss of self. but, it is hers, and that's all she has left to hold onto.

wow! that's 1592 words about the composition alone! my title is totally fucking wrong now! let's talk about the lyrics and vocals and how they relate to the composition.

The Lyrics and Vocals

i don't think i have a huge amount to say about the lyrics, but i also thought i didn't have that much to say about the composition. let's get started.

"There's a safety locker, inside of me, out of your reach, and I hold the key."

gray has compartmentalised her suffering, and her life before becoming the lady in waiting. so much of what goes on inside her she doesn't let lily see at all. i think this also alludes to the suffering she is currently going through in the void. she has packed it away, keeping it from lily and herself.

"It's sealed with layers and layers of irony, what's within, I refuse to see."

my interpretation of the irony here is the fact that lily has traded her soul to protect gray, and in the process of getting here, gray has died and traded her soul to become voided so she could reach lily again. her protectee has become her protecter, but she's recklessly tossed the protection aside to try and reclaim her position as lily's guardian. the other angle here is that by becoming voided to try and get to the bottom of the void to rescue lily, she ironically cannot reach her, no matter how hard she tries. she literally refuses to see this fact, her suffering packed away inside her safety locker, because acknowledging this would make it all meaningless. yet another angle is the irony that she cannot save lily and her child both, she must make a choice, and ends up saving the child rather than the person she went there for.

"I hold on, I hold on, I hold on, 'cause that's the only thing, the one thing that I can control."

fairly self explanatory - gray has lost it all in her quest. without lily, without being able to protect her, and having failed to protect her, she's lost everything. all she has left now is her refusal to give up, and the pain that comes with all of this.

"My grievance is mine, my sadness is mine, my loss is mine."

grief, sadness, loss. these are the things she has left, the last things guiding her to give her determination to go on, and they're all painful, terrible things, but they are hers, the last thing she has agency over, the last thing the void hasn't taken.

notably, at this point i think there is a sense of deep and desperate denial in these lyrics, especially in the way it's sung. the chorus of the vocals are almost a wail, a literal repeated declaration that she's holding on because that's the only thing she can do now. she denies that the void has taken everything from her, denies her failure, denies that she must give up as she pushes forward endlessly through this bizarre and ever changing labyrinth.

"One toss and I'll forever be blind, toss the key, oh please be kind."

she begs to let go of that compartmentalised suffering and grief. she wants to let go of her failure, begging herself to forget it so that she can "forever be blind" to her inability to protect lily and the impossibility of her task ahead.

"In this state of oblivion, my silence goes on, My bearings stay stored, my walls stay strong."

out of all the lyrics in voided, this sticks out the most to me. gray professes that she is strong, silent, protected internally, her "bearings stay stored" so she knows where she needs to go and isn't lost. but how can that be true with the way she repeatedly professes she's holding onto because it's all she can control? how can she still be strong when all she has left is grief and sadness and loss? you may take it as truthful and her just being that strong, but to me, it reads as a denial of the hurt she feels. she feels she has to ignore it in order to go on, but ironically it is also the one thing keeping her going.

as the music gets heavier and tenser, so does the singing. the vocalist, eevamari, wails slightly more desperately and painfully as we progress. her voice cracks ever so slightly on "bearings", letting the underlying desperation and the lie of her unwavering resolve shine through just a tiny bit. but it's enough for us to know.

the chorus repeats, and the cries of holding on start to feel heartbreaking when combined with the strings, the lonely and cold sleigh bells, the sad and determined piano. she holds the final "mine" for a significantly longer time as the song gets quieter, as though not wanting to let go, clinging on as hard as she can to her loss in this period of relative calm. perhaps she feels that if she lets go of it, she won't be able to bear grasping it again.

as stated earlier, the vocals in the breakdown are repeated clips from earlier, but jumbled, distorted and in a random order. they get more processed with delay, reverb and a filter in the second half of the breakdown, as gray loses herself more but seems to want to hold onto those declarations of strength and agency of her pain to keep her moving forward.

in the last section of vocals, the normal vocals are overlayed with some of those clips, giving a very otherworldly effect to the voice. gray isn't fully human anymore, with the implication to me of her brand earlier that she's become part of the void, and the effects on the voice sell that to us. as well, against the descending chromatic progression, as the song reaches its crescendo of dissonance and chaos, she yells over and over that she holds on again, cries out that her pain is hers. she holds onto all of this in the face of everything falling apart in the worst possible way, internally and externally.

right before the last repeat, eevamari again proclaims "my loss is mine", with what seem to be clips of "my grievance is mine" and "my sadness is mine" vaguely overlaying it. her pain has blended together into one, and is all she has left now.

that's about all i had to say about the vocals. it's a truly stellar performance, full of anguish and desperation and quiet determination that's slowly lost despite her desperate attempts to keep it.

so, this is obviously a fantastically composed song with great regard to the themes of the game. but why has it left such an impact on me that i've spent two and a half hours writing this insane post about a relatively short part of void stranger? let's talk about the most striking part of this sequence, what ties it all together; how it synchronises with the gameplay.

The Gameplay, or how my life has been ruined and I can't stop thinking about this

floor b225 is a brand room - the intermittent rooms with murals that you initially can't decipher. as you examine the brand, the game tells you:

[It is your brand]

ominous. something isn't right. we later learn that the brands belong to each void lord, so the implication is that gray has become one too when she became voided. we don't know this at the time, but something is obviously very off about this immediately. when we progress past b225, the ending sequence begins and voided starts to play. floor b226, where a void lord statue would normally be, contains nothing, and notably there is no void lord encountered on this path, adding to the unease.

on b227, we're given one of the chests that usually contain a locust idol without having to do a puzzle. rare, but not unprecedented. however, this chest is empty. to the best of my memory, the only time this happens earlier in the game is the segment with the thief, and there is no thief encountered here, or any npcs at all in this entire segment for that matter. another anomaly. there are a few accessible chests in this segment, but there's nothing in any of them. the very first chest has a note inside from bee saying that she left the recipient's favorite snack inside. maybe the void gods don't venture to this part, especially since it doesn't lead to the end of the void, and this layer belongs to lady gray now.

the pacing of the song is such that the vocals are likely to begin on b228. this floor is still fairly normal, but something notable happens when the vocals begin: the hud changes to display the lyrics. the hud is a white bar at the bottom of the screen that displays some important information, but all of that is removed with the song's lyrics imposed on the hud bar line by line. this is a huge departure from normality for the game, and our first big clue that Something is happening. when i realised what was happening at this point, i gasped because it was just so unexpected, with no indication there will be vocals until eevamari begins singing. zeroranger contained no vocals at all, so it was doubly unexpected for me.

sometime between the second half of the verse and the chorus, the sound effects disappear completely(i'm unsure whether they gradually fade or just stop suddenly). the music has totally overtaken the focus of the game and demands your attention both aurally and visually, along with the strange gameplay differences that are about to get worse. as the sound effects disappear, gray begs herself to hold on, hold on, hold on, as things begin to change and fade from what she's come to know and expect.

i'm not sure how many floors you can progress here before the game does its thing. at the end of the first chorus, timed with the hit of silence at the end of the ascending synth note, the screen cuts to black and we get a leitmotif played on the sine wave and piano, a somber and lonely moment in the dark. right after this, the first percussion appears with the singular kick drum note, and it becomes quickly apparent that something is very, very wrong.

this puzzle is impossible.

you cannot solve this puzzle. gray has made a significant jump offscreen to floor b288, implying a large degree of time passing from her point of view, and is now faced with an impossible puzzle. the mimic in the room to the right is standing on the stair tile, with the switch to unlock it in the room gray is in. you cannot get to the stairs, no matter how hard you try. this is timed with the music growing more grave, more tense, and seeing this impossible puzzle in tandem with that lends it this air of desperation and shock as the reality of gray's situation begins to make itself apparent. after a little bit, everything but the synth and piano cut out again, there is another black screen, and when it comes back, somehow gray has made progress.

offscreen, gray has progressed to floor b451, a detail you could easily miss in the midst of everything else going on, which is quite frankly overwhelming. a jump of 163 floors. for comparison, getting to floor b225 took me about 6 hours or so. somehow, she progressed through the impossible puzzle above. for reasons that you probably understand if you've done this ending, i don't think we can trust that the puzzle is truly impossible, but to our eyes, it is.

this puzzle is also impossible. the one tile wide hallway means you will only be able to push the rock onto the stairs and never reach them. after a moment, another cut to black.

something strange happens again. it's the same floor, but the rock has been replaced with an enemy. in truth, these "rocks" are eggs. tail, the first resident of the void we meet and a former void lord, tells us they're eggs that fall from above, but to our eyes, they are rocks, and it's reasonable to assume such. gray has spent such an indeterminably long amount of time here that the eggs has hatched. in the previous cut, she progressed 163 floors. how long did she spend here? there's another black screen after a second.

when the game comes back, gray has progressed to b???, a floor that has the exact same layout as the previous one we saw but with a different enemy. gray has either ventured so deep that there's no longer any point in numbering them, or she's forgotten how many floors she's passed. additionally, every impossible puzzle we've seen so far has one of the black statues above them. this adds an extra layer of impossibility to them, as we find out at the end of this sequence that entering stairs in front of one of these statues will reset our progress to the very beginning of the game, and only a simple memory will remain. i'm choosing to interpret this as us no longer being able to trust what we see, as gray's mind begins to fracture and she sees puzzles that appear to be impossible. she is also seeing those black statues above the stairs, a subtle cry for redemption, to start over and do things right. as the vocals come back here, there is no cut to black, but we do cut to another impossible puzzle. the lyrics are back on the hud. we linger for a little bit, and then cut to another puzzle that is even more impossible than the ones before it.

the stairs are gone.

the stairs are just gone. more than not being able to reach them, there is just no way to progress at all, even if we could get to them.

at the line "my walls stay strong", we get to this impossible puzzle. gray is quite literally surrounded by walls. while she professes her walls stay strong despite growing more and more desperate, she is trapped in this tiny corridor with two leeches that will reach her no matter what - to me, a clear metaphor that her silent, strong walls have already been breached by suffering. this is also where we get the first chromatic ascending chord to the second chorus, introducing more dissonance and desperation in the music, as we return to "i hold on, i hold on, i hold on".

we get to another impossible puzzle, but the stairs are back, albeit with the black reset statue above the stairs. notably, as gray professes that holding on is the one thing she can control, the player is quite literally having control slowly taken from them as we're faced with puzzles that we can't complete, and we're rapidly being torn from them and forced into new situations that we can't possibly escape. however, it gets worse.

as the instruments except the piano fall away, we cut to this puzzle(which is, unbelievably, impossible). the hud is back as gray has a quiet moment of clarity amidst her desperation. something is wrong, however. in the top right, there's a piece of the wall that's just missing, with a graphic of the side of a tile floating in the void in its place. more evidence of gray's failing mind and unreliability.

the next puzzle we cut to appears to be possible, but isn't, due to the pit to the left of the stairs actually being a wall. there's a statue above the stairs anyway. quite a few more of the tiles are illogical now. this is where the chromatic descending progression comes in, the music becoming more harsh and dissonant as things become stranger and bizarre.

we cut through a couple more illogical puzzles as the distorted vocals come in, and more and more tiles make no sense. the chromatic descending chords become more dissonant with more offkey notes as gray's desperation and despair grow, and she loses herself more in the internal turmoil.

as we hit the drop in the breakdown where everything pulls away before coming back all together, this is the puzzle that faces us. i think this one is possible, but you have about 8 seconds to see this, process all the information, and find the solution. even then, there's a statue above the stairs - even if you reached it, you couldn't progress. to me, this is a hint that gray's mind isn't totally gone yet, she's fighting to stay conscious in the monotony of these never ending puzzles that she can't properly percieve, but still begs for atonement.

the next three puzzles we see are increasingly bizarre and alien, with odd geometry, enemy arrangements, chests, annd then several sets of stairs, something never seen before. as the music grows more desperate and chaotic, so too do the puzzles.

as the vocals come back and gray calls out that she holds on, we cut to this puzzle where she stands over a pit, with no ground beneath her. surrounded by the denizens of the void who seem to watch, if she takes a single step in any direction, she'll fall. quite literally, all she can do in the darkness, the total pitch black of this ever shifting dungeon that is now beyond any form of reason to her, is hold on.

the next puzzle is a variant of the same concept. stuck on a singular tile along with other creatures in the void and statues. they are all in the same situation. there is no escape, only holding on.

as we cut to the next puzzle at "my grievance is mine", the tiles are now placed totally randomly. on top of this, control is wrested away from the player. we can no longer input anything, and this comes directly after the line "cause that's the only thing, the one thing that i can control". quite literally all that gray and the player can do now is hold on as void stranger drags us quickly by the hand through all of these random, illogical puzzles that are now changing twice every bar. the final part about this section is that gray is flashing from invincibility, implying she is taking damage constantly, as she loses everything, unable to hold on.

as eevamari wails "my loss is mine" for the penultimate time, the puzzles become smaller and smaller, this continuing over and over as the puzzles rapidly change, until gray eventually has only a single tile to stand on. notably, at the end of this, we go straight back into "my grievance is mine", skipping "i hold on". gray cannot even hold on anymore, she has lost all control. all she has left is grief, sadness, loss.

"my loss", eevamari cries as there are no tiles on screen, nothing in this black void, even lady gray, as the only thing we can see is the hud with the lyrics superimposed over it. "is mine", she breathes out as even that disappears, the music falling away, leaving us with just her voice, and then silence in blackness. all that remains is loss, literal loss of the way forward, of any sense of ending, of resolution.

once this segment ends, we rest in silence momentarily before reaching a floor with a birch tree. but unlike every other birch tree, should we rest under it, gray is unable to dream. we know from the end of the void ending that she still has more to recall and dream about, so it's reasonable to surmise that she's lost her ability to even dream by now, or perhaps has forgotten everything before coming to the void. in any case, it has all been for nothing. as noted by the atonement statue ahead that you're forced to reset with, she's lost something important, her promise. she can't even remember lily, her reason for coming here.

all she has left is her loss, but she doesn't remember what she has lost. but the loss is hers nonetheless.

jesus christ i wrote over five thousand words when i thought it would be one thousand

i didn't think i would write for four hours about this. i have been thinking about voided for two and a half full days at this point, and i think it shows. this five minute long sequence has affected me so deeply, because i feel it's a complete masterpiece in synthesis of music and gameplay and visuals, and how music can be used to make us feel things, and compliment other art to make them more than the sum of their parts. i really hope that it helped you understand why you're fucked up and insane about void stranger too.

thanks for reading! show your friends who played void stranger!

thanks to system erasure for making this incredible game that's ruined my life without even having finished it, and to eevamari for her astounding vocals that went a huge way to making this moment as impactful as it was.

[zetomato]

QSMP The fated cursed team?

Alright, so it’s my time on the microphone I guess.

Without going deep into the reason why (since it’s not the focus), I have a love/hate relationship with Purgatory. It’s an incredible feat for the Admins with all the details in it as well as the events planning, we get to see new sides of the characters, but I hate competition games (when the win is crucial) and how CCs from every team had their “I genuinely am having a very frustrating and not nice time” for various reasons.

This in mind, I’ve been following the “WHO IS CURSED?” question from the start like almost everyone… But with a different viewpoint. See, I’m someone who does a lot of LARPs and Tabletop RPGs, I’ve been animator and dungeon master (I DM once each week right now) so I know well the “Let’s make a plan and see how the players work inside of it” I didn’t really plan on yeeting a big speech on Tumblr, but I’ve seen a lot of people take hypotheses as facts and got surprised. So let me break things up a little.

The base of a goal.

When you’re making an event/a game/a RPG with a “Someone is cursed”, there are some things you cannot do. Now, the events were planned and, therefore, they planned on the number of teams to go from 3 to 2 from the start. This cannot sustain a “One team is cursed” from the start. Why? Because you have no clue who will win and who will lose. Before the egg event, one could have said “Soulfire will lose because they have put little time on their base compared to the other teams.” You could have said “Bolas will lose because they aren’t the best PVPer and have less gear.” You could have said “Green Gay Ninjas will lose because Red and Blue will ally against them.” Heck, you could have said “No one will lose, they’re going to try to tie.” (All of those before the event even started) Anything could have happened. I, for one, did not expect for Red to win at the beginning of the day. And yet they did.

Ok, let’s back up now.

If a team was chosen as cursed from the start, the admins had at least three ways of making sure the event would last past the egg event.

Make the cursed team with strong-ass players so they had no chance to lose. (Uncertain technique, would be way more visible than what we had/have)

Make the cursed team with every single nerf you can so they’re so obviously cursed that the other teams make sure they stay alive. (A very sad idea, everyone would just already know who needed to win or maybe kill them thinking it was a red herring, again, no one truly fit that 100%)

One person is cursed and they aren’t “cursing” their team until it’s a 1v1 (and not a 1v1v1) (That’s the one that would work the most if the cursed team had been chosen from the start)

Herding cats

Now, as a DM, I’ve herded cats for years now, and here’s what I learned. If you want a precise outcome to your game, you will have to use the three doors trick. Basically, you put your players in front of a choice of doors and whichever door they choose will lead to the room you wanted them to see next. It makes no sense to shoot yourself in the foot and leave the direction of your story entirely to your players if you know it needs to end in X number of games with a specific scene. This doesn’t mean there couldn’t be a cursed team right now, but with all they set up (the nuke, the ‘If they die everyone dies’, etc.) my DM brain is telling me that the cursed team will be chosen narratively at the end while giving meat to the bones of hints we got.

Alright, for the “Cursed team hints” now.

So, one of the most looked at things for the hints were the eggs messages. Let’s break those down quickly. I do not believe one can say “MESSAGES ARE CLUE” without taking ALL OF THEM as a clue.

“No matter what… Protect Tallulah.” Now, this message, like all others, can be read multiple ways. The first one could be about the only Tallulah we actually saw on the island (well, part of her likeness at least), the statue. This one was Red’s statue. So one could say that Red need to win, aka, they are the cursed team. But, you can also read it as “Tallulah will show up later on and she needs to be protected first and foremost.”*

“Nothing is off the table, run over whoever you need to win.” Well, this one, yes, also has more than one possible meaning. The first and most obvious would be “BBH and his team needs to win at all cost.” would fit, would make sense. But it could also be read as “The final choice will be hard, you need to make sure all the residents need to win.” All is a question of point of view. None of these ways to read it are wrong, which, I think, is the point.*

“Dads you won't believe it, it isn't fireflies on the sky run and don't stop” (translated message) This is the most hazy of them all. What vibe this one gives me is - especially since there are some of Richas’ parents in every team - about a future moment. Maybe a final event on the 18th. Another way to read it could be a warning about mobs. It seems less likely, but some mobs in Purgatory turn invisible after someone hits them, leaving only two white dots as eyes. This one is a stretch but my back needs it.*

One message (chayanne) reads more as a Red Team is Cursed. One message (Dapper) reads more as Blue Team is Cursed. * But you know how else you can read any of these three egg messages? Very cool one liners to bring up the hype about an upcoming event. (but they’re cooler as clues)

The wheel

The wheel is very much uncertain for me, mostly because I don’t think Tubbo was even meant to roll it. At least, definitely not when he did. He glitched through barrier blocks to reach it and then lava was dropped in a “Player get the heck out goddamnit you know you weren’t supposed to be there” way. (As a DM, I know that vibe. No, bard, you cannot SEDUCE MY GODDAMN DRAGON) Now, was he supposed to later? Maybe, I don’t know, but basing a lot of things on that, especially while ignoring that Slime (Red) and Roier (Green) were also there and could have been the ones rolling it doesn’t seem like a fair assessment.

The tickets.

So there’s another thing that is wild to me. They used the tickets to join purgatory, and only Red had the fancy ones. I would have said “Oh well it’s part of the bit to have slime on Charlie’s or feathers on Phil’s”, but the sparkles on Vegetta and the cat on Wil’s seem to pass way more of a message. Now, the one person who wasn’t in Red with a fancy ticket isn’t even in Purgatory Aka Quackity. ElQuackity wasn’t on the train with the rest, he appeared there, but also, it’s canon that he definitely isn’t Quackity and wants the eggs dead. I must say, the tickets seem like the most palpable clue we have linked to Purgatory but I do not know if it means they are or aren’t the cursed team. That could go either way.

Of course I was going to mention Tubbo so here it is.

In Escape Rooms, Tubbo would be what we call a wild card. It’s someone who grabs the information and tries to make all the possible links between everything. Those people are very useful when others are stuck trying to follow narrow logic or trying to give more difficulty to a riddle than what it needs. It’s an extremely important job since they can make the intrigue suddenly make sense. The thing, though, is that 80% of what a wild card says is in the array of “I’ve connected the dots” “You didn’t connect shit” “I connected them”. They will make sense of things that aren’t supported enough to be certain. Purgatory doesn’t help with both team’s heavy biases towards themselves, which they both have. Tubbo said a lot of stuff and made them make sense one way. But he also ignored the others (understandably, again, everyone biased) and ignored parts of clues he had access to. The man cooked, but it doesn’t mean that the meal is consumable yet.

Then, what?

Bottom line, no one gave us any clue of what could be a sign of a cursed team. We do not know what to even look for. What does a cursed team look like? What hint is for the curse and what is for something else? Everyone, watchers and CCs, are grasping at things, hoping it’s the right one. In my humble opinion, I think that there are hints, but they are versatile enough that the eye guy could choose any team and announce it as the cursed one at the end, bringing up some hints in link to that team and backing them up with new Lore so it becomes “obvious”. This would be my DM way at least. It would give the hazy hints meaning on any possible team when the time is right. Make the people believe hints were there for the final answer all along and not notice that there were just as many hints going the other way.

TL:DR; There is no clear definition yet about what is a cursed team other than what happens if they die. Many hints we have are uncertain and fit more than one team. The DnD Dungeon Master way that the admins seem to follow so everyone has fun might only choose a cursed team upon the last day so Lore can happen in the most narrative way possible. It would avoid any randomness players bring.

[mothgodofchaos]

Give us a pt3 to the Yan Damien stuff, Maybe the reader trying to leave but Damien finding out

Cage

I had a slightly different idea, and the introduction of a new player in this game. Partially inspired by this art from Rebar.

Yandere!Damien x GN!Reader, TW: drugging, kidnapping, hypnotism, possessiveness, implied murder Words: 830

You sit with Damien on the couch, his fingers stroking your hair as you rest against his chest. He needs you to feel safe with him, run to him if you’re scared or threatened. To be needed by you in a way only he can provide. A record player nearby plays those same crony love songs that he adores, a rumbling in his chest as he hums along.

“Mayor Rose?”

Both of your attentions are drawn upwards to a taller man in a dark blue suit and leather gloves. His glasses glint in the light and make you feel something far more sinister from him.

“What is it, Griffin?”

“The reporter has been taken care of.”

“Wonderful. I’m sure you’re exhausted, come sit.”

Griffin nods, joining the two of you in a nearby armchair. Something about the reporter sparks something in the depth of your memory, just out of reach as you cuddle up happily with Damien.

Perhaps it is in part due to a new cologne he ordered, with strong notes of peppermint. So you associate him with safety, happiness. He can’t lose you to others, or else things may get a bit messy.

“Are there any other assignments for me, Mayor Rose?”

“Not for now, until then, I’d like you to be the personal bodyguard for my sweet dove here. There will be some freedoms allowed, but I need to make sure my dove stays very happy. Is that understood?”

“Affirmative, sir.”

Damien grins, running his hand along your neck as you settle further against him, falling asleep. When you’re out against him, they talk about the details of the disposal of the reporter. How easy it is to make someone so insignificant disappear permanently. All to keep you safe, even if others disagree about his methods. For he doesn’t care, he’s the one holding the key to your cage. And he does intend to keep you in that cage.

When you wake up, they’re still talking, although about business things you don’t understand. You breathe in Damien’s cologne and it wraps around you like a warm blanket. He leans down to give you a kiss, happy to see you awake as you sit up.

“Dearest, Griffin here is going to take you out to the shops. I want you to pick out something fancy for an event we’ll be attending later. Don’t worry about the cost, I will handle it. I’d take you myself, but I have other matters I need to deal with.”

“Okay, just normal mayor stuff?”

“Just normal mayor stuff. Now go freshen up and have fun with Griffin.”

Damien shoots Griffin a look that you don’t catch as you rub your eyes, but to Griffin it’s a clear warning. He follows closeby as you freshen up, leading you out to a car waiting for the two of you. He sits next to you in the back, and you realize how weird it feels to be away from Damien. Something feels, off.

You arrive at the shops, and Griffin remains a silent giant, following you around as you shop the selections. He holds what catches your eye, eventually leading you to the dressing rooms. He’s not much for fashion so his comments on the various outfits are limited, but he insists you go with the one you have fallen in love with. It’s quite pricey, but your mind goes back to Damien insisting that money is not an issue here.

The longer you’re out and about, the more uneasy you feel about Griffin. At the checkout line, you catch red stains hidden beneath his suit coat and tie, like he didn’t quite get all of them out. Your gut tells you not to ignore it, and you start thinking of ways to get away. Something is very wrong here.

You trail behind him a little as you walk back out to the car after paying, quietly stepping closer to an alleyway as he loads the car with your clothes. Your steps move to a sprint as he turns around to look at you, letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Why did it have to be me…”

His strides are longer than yours catching up to you rather quickly. You help as you’re pulled into his arms, a hand clamped over your mouth to hide your screams. A handkerchief is pulled from his pocket and held over your mouth and nose, forcing you to breathe in the burning scent of chemicals and peppermint.

“There we go, deep breaths…”

The chloroform does its job, and he hopes the peppermint oil will fog up your brain enough that you don’t remember your escape attempt. He carries you back to the car, getting you buckled in before pulling out his cellphone.

“The dove attempted to fly away, but they’re back in the nest.”

“I knew it was a risk letting my sweetheart loose… bring them home. I’ll make sure there’s stronger measures of containment when you arrive.”

“Yes sir.”

[featherwurm]

Playing paper dolls with Karlach and Tav for Modern AU stuff - again I'm not strictly plotting anything here, just puttering around with outfits and vibes. They live in a modern version of Faerûn (rather than in any real-world place.) I have no idea how the game-events tie together or adapt but they're... somewhere.

Karlach: Is coming out of a bad situation (jail or forced military service or both or however you want to look at it) and owns very little (she has her bike and whatever fits in the saddlebags and a backpack*.) I don't know if she has a job or what it is (she could be a cook or in firefighter training as I drew before, or something else, or she could be unemployed and picking up odd jobs, or she could perhaps even be on medical disability.) She likes leather, denim, and ass-kicking boots.

Tav: Works enough to buy herself quality stuff, but lives a sparse lifestyle, travels a lot for competitions and work, and most of what she owns is geared towards work (as a physical trainer/martial arts competitor.) She's very picky about texture and wears things until they completely fall apart. She likes cotton and linen and other light fabrics, but tolerates things that are smooth and form fitted.

They're both kindof gym rats and butch about most things (which maybe doesn't come across here in a lot of lighter/working outfits, I don't know.) These outfits with a little variation (some other shirts and such) are pretty much what both of them own.

*She's couch surfing until she moves in to Tav's apartment, most recently at Wyll's place. He doesn't mind her but is glad to have her out from underfoot. Yes they're u-hauling it, unfortunately circumstances are what they are, but for them it works out.

Side by side nude croquis below the cut for height comparison (I mean I know Tav is tits out already but that's just how she is).

[dykedvonte]

Hey so from what I've heard about the plot of the game the crew believes that Curly was the one who crashed the ship after Jimmy told them, including Anya. But shouldn't she of all people know Jimmy isn't to be trusted?

I think it’s tensions and a sort of shock for why they blame Curly.

She knows Curly is reserved and holding back his feelings on life and his occupation. He zones out, clearly has self image issues and is dissatisfied with life if anything they heard at the party is to go by. He was in a clearly bad state of mind the entire expedition on top of being in a worse one when he ran to the cockpit to talk to Jimmy, someone she likely picked up on having a furthering negative effect on his mental state. Not to mention it was after telling him she told Jimmy alone the crash happened.

Anya likely didn’t just believe Jimmy but it was the only thing they had to go on. She likely was partially blaming herself in that moment for adding what she could only believe the final straw that broke the camels back with the added stress of her assault. It’s not uncommon that victims blame themselves for perceived adjacent events and questioning it would tie back into thinking of the cause which is thinking more of her assault from Jimmy. I feel like over time she stops as it’s not hard to realize nothing Jimmy does to anyone is indicative of their own character nor should the crash be considered her fault in anyway.

I honestly think her asking about it was the doubt she had it was actually Curly and why she likely forgave him for it with the whole “I’ll worst moments…” sentiment. Even if it was him she knew he didn’t do it out of something deeply selfish but a perceived last resort unlike Jimmy who only did it to escape accountability. I know it’s a very kind thought towards a man who didn’t do enough to help you and you can only believe tried to kill you all, but it’s combined with a sort of peace and comfort they clearly had beforehand with each other that is hard to shake.

My own personal take is that she ended it and tried to seal Curly off with her because she finally realized none of what Jimmy told them added up and it was likely him. Maybe she saw him snooping around for the gun or maybe it all just clicked in those last moments just like it did for Curly. She was already worried he’d try something and crashing the ship really isn’t out of that realm.

Knowing he’s just as violent and dangerous as ever and even willing to frame his friend that was doing so much for him, her actions were out of sympathy, acceptance and reclamation for both of them. Curly doesn’t deserve this even if he understands her fully now but she can’t open the case and he couldn’t possibly get enough pills down in time, perhaps it was the idea he’d know in his last few days or even hours Jimmy can’t hurt them anymore. She understands it’s really the only quick way out and she’s doing it so Jimmy gets no satisfaction and loses the control he had over them permanently. Like really he’s only keeping Curly alive to menace him and not harming Anya due to both a combo of power high/Swansea and Daisuke would likely flip on him if he tried shit whether they knew of the past assault or not.

These tangents aside, we don’t actually know how much the others truly believed Jimmy and how much was just going along with his bullshit. It’s all form his perspective so how much they actually where listening is from his understanding only so hey, maybe when Swansea and Anya where talking, it was about this too. I mean, Swansea basically calls Jimmy delusional when Daisuke dies so maybe he figured it out too and is kicking himself for not actually doing more about it.