#Who they don't talk to and just observe through their overseers

[tropicalcontinental]

Fucked up slugcat and its iterator

I'll name them uhhh, Two Sided Coin idk

I'm getting more attached to this every passing second it's kinda fun

[sturnlsstuff]

CELEBRATING YOUR BDAY WITH

GHOSTFACE!CHRIS

[ smut, eating pussy] — requested by anon.

it started like any other night with your half-sarcastic texts, the usual back-and-forth. with one difference— chris was sitting in his car, observing your house for what felt like hours, waiting for a good moment that finally came.

chris stared at the screen for a second, thumb hovering like he might send something else— but didn’t. instead, he dropped his phone onto the passenger seat beside him and looked up at your bedroom window across the street.

lights still on.

he sat there in the dark for a bit, chewing the inside of his cheek. you hadn’t told him where you were going tonight. no mention of any big party, nothing. besides it was the middle of the week so he assumed that you're staying at home, in your room that he knew way too well by now.

you were always taking forever in the shower, so it was his chance. he grabbed his stuff, leaving his car before he could talk himself out of it.

a few minutes later, he climbed through the window like muscle memory, landing silently on the floor. the room was warm, dimly lit by your bedside lamp, and soft music played from the speaker on your dresser— some song he recognized but couldn’t name. you always did that, always had something playing, even when you weren't in the room.

the bathroom door was closed, a faint glow spilling out from underneath. chris could hear the water running as he stood there for a second, looking around, noticing the book you told him about laying on your nightstand, or his hoodie hanging off your chair like it belonged here. he never asked you to give it back.

he sat on the edge of your bed, twirling the black folding knife between his fingers, fidgeting in the only way he allowed himself. it wasn’t really a gift, just something cool. functional. the idea of doing this— showing up, giving you anything, made something twist in his chest, but he ignored it. after a moment he set the knife into the small black box with a little bow on it, closing the lid and putting it on his lap.

chris waited for a long while until finally, he heard the bathroom door creak open, the soft thud of your feet as you stepped into the room, wearing some oversized shirt and panties, casually drying your damp hair with the towel you had in your hands. but then you froze, your heart jolted. you actually jumped, letting the towel fall onto the ground, a sharp gasp catching in your throat as your eyes locked onto the figure sitting on your bed like he lived there. for half a second, instinct kicked in— fight, scream, anything, before your brain caught up and recognized him. chris. no matter how many times he would do it, sometimes you still got scared.

you pressed a hand to your chest, pulse racing, eyes narrowing. "holy fuck— what the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, trying to sound annoyed instead of shaken.

"took you long enough," he smirked, pulling the hood off his head.

"you scared the shit out of me, you psycho."

chris shrugged, "you're the one who leaves your window open."

you rolled your eyes, walking over to him. "yeah, but it's not exactly an invitation for you. doors exist, y'know? you don't have to break in through my window."

“technically, i broke in to give you something. so…” he tossed the small box to you, more abrupt than he meant to. you caught it, suspicious. “give me something?" a frown appears between your eyebrows as you look at the box. did he...? nah, no way.

"yeah, open it."

you give him a glance, "if this explodes, i swear—”

"kid, c'mon. you think i would put a bomb in it while i'm still in the room?" he mutters sarcastically, leaning back on his hands, remaining nonchalant. "just open."

you sigh unamused and finally flipping the box open to reveal the matte black knife inside— sleek, cold. beautiful, in that twisted way you understood. your eyebrows lifted. “what is this?”

he replies as it was the most normal thing in the world, "a knife."

"i know it’s a knife, genius.” you take the knife out of the box, putting it on the nightstand beside your book, and looking at the knife from all sides. it was similar to the one chris had, and you had seen many times before. "what, no bloodstains?" you joked.

"thought i'd let you christen it," he said sarcastically, but his body was still a little tense.

"why are you giving me this?" your eyes meet his.

chris shrugs again, stretching like it was no big deal, but his eyes remain on your face, searching for your reaction. "figured you’d want somethin' practical. use it on me if i ever get all soft and start writin' you poems or some crap.”

a small smile appears on your face, surprise clear in your expression. your fingers lingered on the handle longer than you probably meant to. "it's actually…cool.”

“i know."

then there was a pause— a weird one. you put the knife back in the box just as chris clears his throat, and without looking at you, he pulled the rest of his gift out of his hoodie pocket. he handed it to you with a muttered, “here.”

it was a ziplock bag of your favorite candy— hard to find, the kind you once mentioned in the past, but didn't know he was listening.

a polaroid, creased at the corners. it was you, snapped mid-laugh months ago, hoodie half-off your shoulder, sun in your hair. you didn’t even know he took it.

and a small red USB. no label.

your eyes move over everything that was there, placing the candy on the bed, your fingers running over the polaroid. it was a nice shot, capturing the way he sees you. but your attention is caught by the red USB. "and what is that?" you glance at him curiously.

“just some music. stuff that doesn’t suck,” he shrugged. “don't get all weird 'bout it.”

you picked it up and after his words something shifted behind your eyes. "you made me a playlist?” you ask with a hint of disbelief, just in time as some song starts playing from your speaker— a song he knows. one of the ones he'd thrown onto that USB like it was nothing.

have you got colour in your cheeks?

do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type?

that sticks around like summer in your teeth?

"it's not— not really a playlist, just... music. that i happened to put together.”

are these some aces up your sleeve?

you were aware that it's a gift for your birthday, which is really surprising because you haven't expected anything from him— especially not this. but the small red USB you hold in your hand, and the rest of the gift throws you off. it's so casual, but knowing chris nothing he does is ever just that.

have you no idea that you're in deep?

the fact that he had to put effort into this was making your stomach twist. he had to thought about it, which track was gonna be first, which last, what songs to add, what it'd say without using words. it was making chris feel exposed and uncomfortable, and he knew you weren't expecting it.

i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week.

he finally looked at you, there was hesitation under the way he held his jaw tight, like he regretted bringing the whole damn thing. this wasn’t his kind of thing and he knew it, but at the same time it was worth it.

how many secrets can you keep?

“you didn’t have to do this,” you said, voice quieter now, as you stand right in front of him, putting the red USB on your nightstand. chris's eyes roam all over your body.

'cause there's this tune i found that makes me think of you somehow

“yeah, well. but i did.” he cleared his throat, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. "you ain't gonna start cryin' or anything, right?” he asks sarcastically, pulling you onto his lap. you straddle his thighs, hands wrapping around his shoulders immediately as you let out a small chuckle, rolling your eyes.

"nah, i'm good." you shake your head, while chris's hands move under your big shirt, brushing against the skin on your waist.

and i play it on repeat until i fall asleep

“happy birthday,” he said, barely above a murmur. "or whatever."

the smile on your face makes him sick. "thanks. or whatever." he smirked, hiding the relief that cracked through him.

spillin' drinks on my settee

(do i wanna know?) if this feelin' flows both ways?

his breath hitched at the intensity of your gaze, the air pulsed between you two, thick with everything unsaid. chris leans in, crashing his lips against yours, getting a hum in approval. all heat and hesitation he felt the whole day, became one desperate kiss as your tongue dances with his, your hands clutching at the fabric of his hoodie, dragging him closer like space itself was enemy.

(sad to see you go) was sorta hopin' that you'd stay

his hands move higher up underneath your shirt, every touch stoked the fire higher— fingers threading through hair, a low gasp swallowed between kisses, the edge of a moan bitten back.

his hand found your jaw, tilting your face to the side slightly, and his lips dragged down your neck, sucking and biting on your skin.

(baby, we both know) that the nights were mainly made

for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

he flips you over so that your back hits the mattress and he's on top now, his hands already taking off your shirt and throwing it somewhere aside. you gasp softly when his weight settled over you, his lips just beneath your ear where your pulse betrayed you, sending shivers down your spine. then he moves lower, each kiss leaving a scorch behind, breath catching in your throat when his tongue barely traced your hardening nipple.

crawlin' back to you

you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs while he plays with your tits, getting a whimper from you. his lips give attention to every inch of your skin but your most sensitive area, avoiding it intentionally to build a slow burn within you.

ever thought of callin' when you've had a few?

'cause i always do

"chris..." you whine, watching as he moves downwards, gently biting on your inner thigh while his fingers keep playing with your breasts.

"ah, ah, ah," he cooed, feeling your hand in his hair, trying to push his head towards your core. "be patient," he murmurs, his breath fanning across your lower abdomen. his eyes move to the clear wet spot on your panties, a smirk appearing on his face. "this is just another one of my birthday gifts for ya," he looks up at you from between your legs, eyes dark with desire. "but you gotta stay still."

maybe i'm too

busy being yours to fall for somebody new

his fingers trace the edge of your panties before he hooks one under, slowly pulling them down. you're laying there with your chest falling and raising rapidly, hair spilled across the pillow, watching him purposely teasing you and knowing you're completely at his mercy. his hands gently spread your thighs wide, looking at your glistening pussy and he feels his pants growing tighter.

"fuck, you're drippin'," he growls, placing small, feather-light kisses close to your center, torturing you intentionally and drawing out the moment.

now i've thought it through

crawlin' back to you...

your voice slightly shaky with desire as you mumble, "it's my birthday and— and you're being cruel to me...."

chris' smirk grows, his fingers spreading your folds, pressing a gentle kiss, his tongue just barely grazing your heat. "i think m'being really generous, actually." he avoids any contact with your clit, instead using the top of his tongue to tease the edge of your folds.

"that's unfair—" you whine, hips twitching upwards but he presses them back down with his hand.

"i don't think it is," he mutters, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "it'd be if i just pulled back now, but i assume–"

"no!" you immediately say panicked.

yeah, thats what he thought.

"no?" he slowly repeats, driving you crazy with his little satisfied smirk and the look in his eyes. "you don't want that? should i make you beg for it?"

he puts your trembling legs on his shoulders, dragging the flat of his tongue up one side of your entrance, then down the other. a low groan leaves his mouth, his dick uncomfortably straining against his pants. your fingers tighten in his hair as the frustration and desperation keeps building up within you. the wetness starts pooling beneath you, soaking the sheets and it's incredibly hot for him.

"please, chris." you mewl, clenching around nothing.

"please eat you out? please make you come with my tongue?" his tone is mocking, he clearly enjoys making you struggle and that makes your stomach flip. his eyes flash with triumph and desire when finally he gives your clit a quick flick with his tongue before slightly pulling back, being a cruel tease on purpose.

you're losing your mind.

"what else do you want me to say?! yes, i want whatever you give me. i'd get on my knees if i could just for you to—"

a loud moan is ripped from you when he suddenly gives in to your desperate pleas and dives in, sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue around it while pushing two fingers inside of you. he curls them upward, hitting that sweet spot deep within.

your mouth goes slack, eyes roll back when he finally gives you what you craved. chris growls against your pussy, the vibration sending shockwaves through your entire body. his fingers fuck you slow and deep while his tongue laps at your clit mercilessly, and you're already embarrassed, knowing you won't last long.

"holy— shitt..." you whine, looking down at him with your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure.

the sloppy, wet slurring fill the room as he devours you like a starving man, redoubling his efforts when he feels your legs trying to close around his head. his fingers dig onto your thigh as he keeps your legs spread on his shoulders, his cock twitching at the sounds you were making. "chris, i— fuckk, oh my god—" the grip on your sheets gets tighter as you grow closer and closer to the edge. he hums, eyes locked on your face, letting you grind against his face while his tongue skillfully swirls around your clit. he can sense your walls sucking his fingers in, causing him to go even faster and deeper.

he has you right where he wants you, a moaning mess, squirming around on your bed and pulling on his hair as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

"so close— gonna... c— oh!" he sucks on you even harder, his fingers hitting your g-spot, making you come undone into his mouth. he licks and swallows every single drop as your juices flood his tongue, savoring the taste of you and letting you ride out your orgasm.

your vision goes blurry at the intensity of your release, your body slightly shaking as you gasp softly for air.

he pulls back moments later, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean, making sure you watch him. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself and by the look on his face you can tell that there's a long night ahead of you.

"happy birthday, princess," he says again, followed by the sound of his belt hitting the floor.

a/n; look at this romantic fella 😻

taglist; @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @brazyturtleneck @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs @seluky10 @chriss-slutt @icrazy106 @ribbonlovergirl @izzylovesmatt @trevorsgodmother @sturniolo101 @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @bernardsbendystraws @loser41ifee @cleolovespepsi @joanakaulitz @oopsiedaisydeer

[slashire]

Hii can you write for rodrick PLEASE, we need more of him (I love him so much) can you write something like him going over to readers house? Like their neighbors or something and it’s all cute 🤗

Girl Next Dore

Summary: you live next door to Rodrick, and he is obsessed with you. One night you catch him looking, again, out his window and this time you invite him over.

Rodrick Heffley x fem!reader 

notes/warnings: just fluff, cute Rodrick. {i got you girl/guy} :)

WC:1483

Rodrick wasn't smooth.

Like, at all. 

Which was unfortunate, considering he was very much in love with the girl who lived exactly fifteen feet away from his bedroom window.

You.

You, with your messy hair and oversized t-shirt sleeves too long for your arms. You, who left your window open while blasting music way better than anything he’d admit he liked. You, who always rolled your eyes when his band practiced but never actually told him to stop.

Rodrick noticed things. Even if he acted like a total moron about them.

He noticed the way you bit your lip when you were reading. The way you talked back to your teachers without even raising your voice. The way your laugh carried across the driveway on Saturday mornings when your friends picked you up.

And he noticed that he was completely screwed.

Because he never liked someone this much before, other than heather. It made him stupid. Like, stupider than usual. 

So when he saw your bedroom light flick on that night, he practically dove across his room to the window. He kept the blinds low enough to pretend he wasn't looking.

But he was.

You stepped into view, hair in a lazy ponytail, wearing pajamas ants with little skulls on them. His heart tripped over itself.

And then, like you knew, you looked right at him through the window.

His eyes widened. He looked away so fast he practically gave himself whiplash.

You laughed.

He felt like he was going to die, then your window slid open.

“Hey, stalker.”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands before poking his head out. “I wasn't stalking. I was just…breathing. Loudly. Near a window.”

You smirked. “Right. So, you coincidentally stare out your window every time i turn my light on?”

“I'm not staring.” he shot back. “Im…observing. Like a scientist.”

“Oh, are you studying me, Dr Heffley?”

His face turned red. His brain short-circuited. There was a full four seconds of silence before he muttered, “Yeah, and you're failing the experiment.”

You laughed again, and he had to pretend it didn't sound like his new favorite song.

“Wanna come over?” you said suddenly. “I just made popcorn.”

He blinked. “Like…now?”

“No, Rodrick. Next Tuesday.”

“...Okay. Cool. Chill.” he stood up too fast and nearly tripped over a pair of socks. “Just gimme, like…two minutes.”

“You have one.”

You shut your window, and he stood there in the dark for a second, silently screaming into his hands before grabbing the least wrinkled shirt he could find.

She asked you to come over, he kept repeating to himself. That means something. That has to mean something.

And if it didn't? Well… at least he’d get popcorn out of it.

He nearly tripped once again just trying to put on socks, then decided against them entirely because that took too long. His brain was short-circuiting, but he tried to walk cooly down the hall, shoulders slouched, eyes half-lidded, like he hadn't just completely combusted inside his own room.

“Where you goin’?” Greg's voice rang from the living room, a little too curious for his liking.

“Out.” he muttered, blowing past.

“You never go out,” Greg pointed out with suspicion. “Wait-are you going to her house?”

Rodrick froze mid-step. “Who's her?”

“The girl next door her. The one you ‘don't like.’” Greg made obnoxious air quotes.

He turned halfway and pointed a sockless foot at him. “You say one word to Mom and I will replace your shampoo with mayonnaise.” 

Greg recoiled. “That's disgusting.’

“Exactly.”

He slipped out the front door before greg could follow up with more questions, pacing across the narrow strip of lawn between their houses. He swore it felt like a hike through the Himalayas. His palms were clammy. He kept replaying the moment you invited him over like it was a hallucination he might've made up.

The porch light was on at your place. You must've turned it on for him.

He knocked once, then rubbed his hands on his jeans to dry them. Your footsteps padded softly from inside. The door opened. You stood there, leaning against the frame like this was a scene from a movie and you somehow didn't realize how stupid pretty you looked in pajama pants and a t-shirt.

“You took longer than a minute,” you said, holding a bowl of popcorn.

“Yeah, well, I had to put on deodorant. I don't want you to suffer.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” you deadpanned. “Chivalry isn't dead.”

You stepped back, and he walked in, trying to look like this was no big deal, like he didn't nearly pass out on your front porch. The house smelled like vanilla and popcorn, and there was music playing faintly from your speaker, The Smashing Pumpkins, which made his heart stutter because he had that exact album under his bed right now.

You flopped down on the couch and patted the seat next to you. He hesitated before sitting, making sure there was just enough distance to keep from fully combusting, but not enough to look like he was avoiding you.

You tossed him a throw pillow. “Use that. Your hair sheds.”

He rolled his eyes but took the pillow anyway. “You act like I'm a golden retriever.”

You smiled. “You do bark when someone insults your band.”

He pressed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Loaded Diaper is a very serious musical institution.” 

“You guys miss half your cues.”

“That's called artistic timing.”

You snorted and hit play on the remote. A movie flickered to life on the screen, something classic and just a little weird, the kind of offbeat pick that made him think you weren't like the other people at school. You weren't trying to be cool. You didn't wear layers of fake attitude like everyone else. You were just…you. And it killed him a little.

About twenty minutes in, you were elbow deep in popcorn and quoting lines under your breath. He wasn't watching the movie. Not really. He was hyper aware of the way your knee brushed his every few minutes. The way you leaned in when you laughed, just a little, like gravity favored him.

At one point, you turned and caught him staring.

“What?” you asked, almost amused.

He blinked. “You've got, uh…” he reached out before thinking and brushed his thumb across your cheek. “Popcorn salt.”

There was no salt.

You went still.

His hand lingered for a second too long, then dropped like it had burned him.

“Oh,” you said softly. You didn't pull away. “Thanks.” 

He nodded. Looked forward. Tried not to turn red.

Silence settled again, thicker, heavier. Something shifted, but neither of you spoke about it.

The movie ended eventually. You both sat in the glow of the credits, neither of you moving.

He coughed. “So, uh…thanks for inviting me. To your popcorn party.”

“Anytime,” you said, and when you looked at him this time, your smile was quieter. “You're actually…kind of fun when you're not acting like a total idiot.”

“That's literally never.” he deadpanned, but he was smiling.

You didn't say anything for a second. Then, casually, “So…were you ever gonna tell me you liked me, or were you planning to keep blushing at my window for the rest of your life?”

His brain short circuited so hard he physically twitched.

“Wha- i don't- i wasn't blushing. That's a medical condition.”

“Sure it is.”

He looked at you. “You knew?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the cushions, arms folded. “You're not exactly subtle. And Greg kind of screamed it out his bedroom window last week.”

“I'm going to kill him,”

“Dont. He's a valuable source of entertainment.”

He swallowed, trying to collect himself. “So, what…you've just been laughing at me this whole time?”

“No,” your voice softened. “I've just been waiting for you to stop being such a coward.”

He stared at you.

You stared back.

Then, quietly, he said, “I'm not trying to be. A coward, i mean.”

You nodded once, and for the first time, your expression cracked open a little, less teasing, more real. “I know.”

He inhaled slowly. His hand moved toward yours, hesitated, then rested beside it on the couch cushion, close enough to touch, but waiting.

You didn't move away.

“I like you,” he said, voice low, honest.

“I know,” you whispered.

And then you reached over and laced your fingers through his, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn't say anything. He just smiled, wide, dopey, a little dazed. The kind of smile he only ever smiled when he was looking at you.

[shmowder]

Their concept of immortality is built upon the belief that you are not you, but your memories. Every person is not their body, is not their mind, is not even their DNA.

What you are, is a collection of memories, of life experiences, of ideas, beliefs, and observations.

You are, especially, other people's memories of you. That's the stuff your soul is made out of.

You know the saying, even if someone dies, at least they'll always live on in your memories. The Kains took that literally

Imagine with me that we took all of these things about you, and suspended them in air.

In modern terms: copied them on a hard disk and stored them for safe keeping. Then when you eventually drop dead, we simply take that hard disk and slot it into an appropriate device—a biological human body. Just like a virus, you'll begin taking over that person and overwriting their being.

"The Focus" is the storage place. The hard disk itself. It's called that because you *focus* memories inside of it. The Polyhedron and Crucible are just oversized SD cards.

You focus on your own memories of who you are, your own experiences, and they etch themselves into the wall. Likewise, other people can focus on their memories of you to help shape the stored version of you better. Since we're all different people depending on who's perceiving us, we need many perspectives; you're a different you with your mother than you are with your dog, etc.

And just like Yulia said, the Focus is not a physical place you can go to, at least the inside of it. It's just math, at its core, through and through. Much like a hard disk is just code, mere numbers and commands. You can save enough books in it to fill a building, but you could never reach in there physically and pull a book, nor replace a mass of books with an equal mass of a human. Which is why no one could enter Simon's Focus without Simon's explicit invitation.

But can any random human body do?

No. It heavily depends on the type of memories you stored, and the way in which you stored them. Much like your phone is unable to read a floppy disk.

Georgiy Kain is the father of this method, the architect of this ideology.

A doctrine in which he describes a soul not as a phantom manifestation of the person, but more akin to music. Each soul is a melody. Some are a piano solo, others are a whole orchestra. The more complex and deceivingly subtle the melody is—the more life experiences and memories—the harder it will be to replicate and play.

Because they have no feasible way to access the music sheets of the melody that is your soul, they can only hope to reverse engineer it through repeated listening, studies, and educated guesses.

Orchestras require various specific musical instruments to work. To replicate a person's soul—which we have established is their memories—successfully, you'll need an appropriate instrument of a physical body.

So no, not just any human body would do. Much like a Clair de Lune is horrendous on a ukulele.

The Focus places don't just suspend the memories—the soul—in time, but play them as well. At all times. That melody must be actively played. The orchestra requirements of a specific instruments extends to the Focus as well, not just the hosting human body. The SD card must have its own RAM, CPU, cooling, and Motherboard. While a Graphics card hasn't been implemented in a Focus yet.

Artemy talking to a visible Isidor in P2 is actually just the abattoir acting as an accidental Focus with an implemented GPU; meaning the kin succeed in building what the Stamatins failed, In this essay I WILL

Ignore that forget it back to topic :)

Which is why not just any place can be a Focus. Why Simon was "outgrowing" the crucible's focus and needed to be moved to the Polyhedron urgently; his memory was fading from the people.

Much like an overloaded SD card begins corrupting the data inside. This detail enables the Kains to talk to their "dead" relatives whose souls are in purgatory.

What's clear is that they need mortal minds with great intellect and will in order to "move" these said souls around. Tenacious humans to act as the adapter cable that allows you to transfer files from one hard disk to another.

In some instances, the process could spell the death of the human. The magentitude of the soul seems correlated with the years the soul has seen, the amount of memories it accumulated. So while moving the a soul older than two centuries is lethal.

Dealing with the 50ish years old soul seems fully survivable.

Well... except for the receiving end. Nina's soul (focus of memories) is being incubated inside Maria's physical mind (body?) temporarily. Akin to a non-running executable, a compressed pile of files. For it's Victor who is meant to be ereased and die in order for Nina's memories to elbow his own soul out of his body.

Their immortality is not physical; your body will decay inevitably, it is a continuous emulation of memories and past experiences. A ship of Theseus immortality.

To grasp the very basic essence of this form of immortality, think of it this way:

There is a far away kingdom where apples are forbidden by issue of the king and queen. Maybe the prince is deathly allergic to it, maybe it's a religion thing, or maybe they just really really dislike apple pies.

But the people really love apples, in fact they believe life isn't worth living without apples.

So they pool their money and hire a bunch of scientists to find a solution around the issue. The scientists can't bring apples into the kingdom, so they look at another round fruit instead, oranges.

They take an orange, selectively breed it and chemically treat it until it tastes just like an apple!

But the people aren't satisfied, sure it tastes like an apple but it doesn't smell like an apple. It doesn't look like an apple, and its texture is not that of an apple.

So the scientists go back to the lab, they try again, with a pear this time around.

They selectively breed it into a round apple-like shape, they inject apple flavouring into it, and they dye its skin the most shiny red.

In fact, it looks so much like an apple post-treatment, that their test groups could never differentiate between it and the real thing. The people are rejoiced! Their apples are back!

And the king and queen can't find a fault in this loophole, and these new apples don't trigger the allergy reaction in their son, so they allow it!

An apple, is whatever other people's memories of an apple is.

This pear acts, looks, tastes, and smells exactly like how other people expect an apple to, then It might as well be an apple.

If a person walks, talks, behaves, and looks exactly like how other people expect Simon to, then it might as well be Simon Kain.

And that's how you fool death and achieve Immortality

You make a copy of yourself which will live, a version of you suspended in time that you'll update every single day by going into your own Focus. And when the time comes, you take a pear, and alter it into an apple. But it must be a pear, the closest relative to apples, otherwise you'll get an orange, that while tastes like an apple, makes the nastiest texture in apple pies.

At the end of the day, it's a matter of perspective.

You can go full purist and claim the ship isn't the original one the second you replaced a single loose screw.... and while true in the literal sense, it's redundant and pointless to point it out. There is nothing to revert back into; the original ship doesn't exist anymore. It wasn't murdered or destroyed, it just vanished! Ceased to exist the second a part of it changed, no matter how small. Better to have the next best thing than pool the money for a new ship registery and sailing permit.

Because being the "original" version of anything is a concept. No man steps into the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.

Your cells die and get replaced all day, are you not the same you? How about every seven years, the maximum time frame it takes for your whole body cells to fully die and get replaced. Should you get a new ID and enroll back into elementary school?

No, you'd say, because you already know all the information. You remember elementary school and everything you were taught in there!

Well... this new "Simon" remembers being Simon and everything Simon went through. Simon is dead, just like the previous you who has died, except your corpse was tactically scattered around into dust particles and slowly replaced by its murderer one by one throughout the years until nothing of your original body remained.

-

Now there are a lot of loose ends left unaddressed, but it's better to have questions you can't answer than answers you can't questions, and maybe an answer will rear its head eventually.

If Georgiy, the inventor of this method, is merely 77 years old how could Simon possibly be 200?

I'm working under the assumption no Focus has ever existed before Georgiy Kain orchestrated the whole ordeal, and yet Victor mentions the names of presumably distance relatives wondering if they should pull them out of the Focus instead.

-

Why Maria can talk to Nina and Simon through sleep, why Victor can hear Nina at all times, why Georgiy can consult Simon.

I'm not sure why their abilities to contact the souls encased in the Focus varies in conditions—why can Nina speak through Victor to the Changeling very early on while Dankovsky could only communicate with her during late game? And why does Maria have to sleep or journal to talk to her rather than speak through Victor as a medium?

It could have something to do with who's the biggest contributor to the memory of the person; Victor knew Nina longer and better than Maira, Georgiy knew Simon longer and better than both of them.

As to why Simon was immune to all diseases and sickness?

I think it's correlated to how your very own immune system has its own memory; if it learns how to defend against a sickness once, it will always be able to overcome it. It saves the instructions in its own database and makes copies of the white blood cells that previously worked the last time the sickness came knocking on its door. So by virtue of having a varied immune system database, Simon seems immune to all colds and sick throats.

Simon isn't actually immortal, he just appears immortal... but then, what difference does it make?

[roseapov]

TWST Self Aware AU

The difference between 'The Player' and 'The Overseer' based on my observations and some Headcannons

Warning: Mentions of obsession, slaying people, stalking, cult themes and delusional worshippers

[TWST Self Aware AU] - [Masterlist]

The Player:

Everyone knows that Twisted Wonderland is just a game and they're the characters in it. They as a self aware AU communicate with you through Yuu, as it is their only form of communication with you (unlike the Overseer). They see you as their 'safe space' and can be/are possessive of you, cause of the comfort that you bring to them (some more than the others). They know you're somewhere out there playing and having your own life, so they really appreciate it when you do decide to play.

You don't have worshippers, just a bunch of students obsessively starved for your affection and attention - trying to harbor it all to themselves (Poor boys, shower them with affection - or not, Choose the safest option).

The Housewardens would be the most clingiest of them all. They have some real problems to overblot in the first place (-Kalim, +Jamil), but your presence seems to calm all their worries, so stay with them a little longer. Just. A. Little. Longer.

They're also not above stalking - when you play there's always someone following Yuu around, and when you're offline those with more magic than the others have the chance to infiltrate through your phone and watch your daily life through the camera as well as hear your voice through the microphone.

Since you communicate through Yuu, there are 2 options I see happening when you're offline:

Yuu is living their normal life without your influence as an npc, where they normally talk to everyone behind the scenes

When you log out, Yuu just disappears, which I think is pretty reasonable. Everyone then knows that you're offline and the only thing they can do is wait for you to log in again.

And of course, our very lonely Future Fae King tries to bring you into their world with his powerful magic, so he won't have to be alone anymore💕 The others also approve of this action, so See you soon!

The Overseer:

The characters there are a bunch of lunatic worshippers that see you as a God/Creator, and The Overseer. You're known there internally and Nations are worshipping you (unlike The Player who is only known by the characters they met). Their level of worship is different in each county, when in some (Briar Valley) you're the highest being to ever exist, while in the others you're seen as a respectable person who watches over them, but not as the deity to offer-everything-you-can to (Sunset Savanna, since they already have a Royal Family that rules for centuries - the irony since Briar Valley also have long ruling Royal Family).

You're a perfect being that soothes them, they're totally obsessed and very possessive of your attention. They have no problems with slaying everyone who's not respecting you enough *ekhem* Briar Valley/Diasomnia. They are elated when they feel your gaze linger on them a little longer than on the others.

They can feel your gaze on them, feel your touches but your silhouette is blurred/transparent for them (thanks to the screen, cause as we all know, the screen can't compare to the real experience), so they don't know your exact look (even tho they're dying to know *ekhem* Pomefiore, cause of their Fairest Queen opinion on you).

The Great Seven also met you (thanks to the Fairy of thorns), their God and Creator. They have made various opinions on your person (all positive, cause don't forget - they're all obsessed delulus), like for example: The Fairest Queen opinion on you is that 'You're the Fairest one of them all', all said while kneeling before your beauty.

Of course our current generation is also dying to meet their creator in all of their glory, so our most powerful and most delusional Diasomnia boys (mostly Malleus and Lilia) are trying to find a way to bring you into their world to worship you endlessly like you rightfully deserve.

You're not really communicating with them through Yuu, as they can see you through the screen of your phone (although blurry). They are always talking to you, always looking at you. All those lines, all for you, towards you, so answer them, look at them or things may get really ugly.

Some of my rambling now:

I know many days ago I posted that my first fic will appear in a few days, but it never did (sorry🙏). My first fic project was very ambitious and in the meantime I caugt a cold which numbed me totally, but it did gave me many ideas for fics in the future🤭. So instead of the fic planned to be my first one, this one will serve the purpose of being the first fic - pretty analysational and rational (I hope).

I'm still working on the fic that was supposed to be the first one, yet i have too little information on the topic to write it (it's also gonna be analysis like), so I'm going to take my sweet time with writing it and hopefully after the october (cause of the october writing challenge), succesfully release it.

I hope this fic came out good and y'all are satisfied with it, I am also open to any criticizm towards my works, so please feel free to tell me where i can improve!

I also apologize for all the mistakes that I could possibly have done here👀

Thank you all again and see you soon!💕

~roseapov

[so-sures-blog]

Teenage Mercenary Headcanons

(Most of these are of Dayeon Yu because she's my fave character, but the Numbers are thrown in, too!)

☆☆☆

— Dayeon absolutely knows Ijin's secret, but she isn't confronting him because she wants him to trust her and come forward himself. Dayeon is sweet, not oblivious.

Who do you think sews the clothes whenever he gets slashed? Washed out the blood? Takes out the trash that has all his bloody bandages? She's literally seen him try to stab someone's eye out with a chopstick. Fight against experienced killers when she was kidnapped with Yeona. It only takes a quick google search to find out Dushik Cha is the biggest gangster in Seoul, Korea — and Ijin has him on speed dial. When the Congressman and his childrens' crimes broke the news, you think Dayeon didn't see it — didn't notice that with all the videos posted on the internet, only hers wasn't shown?

Ijin got a job at SW, the most prestigious company in the entire world, as a bodyguard. You have to have an extreme amount of fighting talent and skill to be able to become a bodyguard there, even as a part-timer. Normally, that would take months, years to be accepted. Nobody knew how he was scouted, not even the higher-ups. Which would mean Ijin was personally hired and got the job through connections with the CEO of SW.

The point is that Ijin is the most unsubtle person on the planet, and Dayeon is ready.

— The Numbers have tattoos! After they got initiated, they all got tattoos of their numbers. It serves as a reminder that they belong to The Camp and have no identity beyond that.

— I feel like Dayeon would be really into psychology. Being bullied by Huijin for years, I think that Dayeon would pick up behavioral cues from her as a coping mechanism. She is very observant, so I imagine she psychoanalyzes those around her to determine whether or not they are good people. I also see her use her psychology skills to translate into being a detective for learning about Ijin and the Numbers. I can picture her basically backing the Numbers into a corner and forcing them to talk about their feelings. She has a lot of impromptu therapy sessions.

— Ijin and Dayeon go to a rich kid school but live in a bad neighborhood. Yeona Sin, granddaughter of the SW CEO, goes to their school, and so did the Congressman's children, so it has to be a rich kid school. I headcannon that Grandpa Yu worked hard to send Dayeon to a good school, so that's why she goes there even though they don't have money. Also, they live in a bad neighborhood because how else would Ijin beat up high-school assholes and live within motorcycle-riding distance from Dushik Cha, Seoul's #1 gangster?

— The Numbers speak multiple languages! Being sent on multiple assignments in different continents, I feel like they would pick up different languages in order to blend in.

— Dayeon is good with first aid! It's not through want, but when she was being bullied, she had to patch up her own injuries by herself, so she became well practiced in it. And, when she was younger and first learning how to cook, she kept on getting cuts on her hands from the knife. But she didn't want her grandpa to worry and send her to the hospital for stitches, so she learned to do it herself! 

(Inspired by my mother, who cut herself with a knife and promptly sewed herself up with a needle and thread with no tears or medical experience whatsoever.)

She helps heal her brother's injuries. She's not as good at stitches as Ijin is, but she insists she has to when he comes home with injuries, and it's the thought that counts, right? Also, she took it upon herself to learn CPR for her grandpa when she was really young in case he had a heart attack from his weak heart ;(

— Dayeon steals her brother's jackets and wears them around. At first, it was merely coincidence — her just grabbing the first thing when she's in a rush — but soon it becomes a habit to reach for Ijin's jacket instead of her own. They're comfy and oversized, and she loves it. Her favorite is the grey one with white armbands Ijin often wears. Ijin doesn't mind. Her wearing his jackets actually protects her more even when he is not around. He goes out and takes care of high school jerks often so that they start to recognize the clothing he beat them up in.

High-School Gangster: (sees Dayeon walking home alone innocently) Ooh, cute girl!

Gang: (goes up to harass her before pausing when they see her jacket.) Wait ...

(Recognizing Ijin's jacket, paling, and realizing that he with absolutely fuck them up if they mess with his little sister.)

Gang: (jumping the guy who pointed out Dayeon, beating him up.) You piece of shit! Don't you drag us into your goddamn death wish!

Ijin traumatized all the gangs in the area, and it's beautiful.

— Ijin and Dayeon have dimples! At first, it was only Dayeon because I researched and found dimples represent a sign of beauty and cheerfulness in many cultures, which I thought suited her perfectly. But then I wanted Ijin and Dayeon to have something in common due to resemblance, and the dimples appeared. Also, I wanted the Numbers to have that extra wow factor when they see Ijin's smile and realize he has dimples.

— Grian is a melting pot filled with orphaned children of all ethnicities. I imagined that missionaries from all countries came to Grian to try and "fix it up" before having children with the locals. Maybe the parents were killed, or they abandoned them, but the point is that most of the children there grew up orphaned before they were inducted into military camps.

— Besides Ijin and 032, all of the other Numbers are in their mid-to-late twenties. Think about it — it's been 10 years since the plane crash, and they were all teenagers when they were in the Camp. And none of them look especially older or younger.

— Ijin takes after his parents in looks. He has his mom's hair and his dad's face. You can tell he was their son just by looking at him. That's why Grandpa Yu was so emotional when Ijin came back. It was like seeing his son and daughter-in-law come alive again within his grandson. But Dayeon?

Dayeon looks exactly like her grandma, so much that sometimes it literally hurts Grandpa Yu to look at her. It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate — to leave him with the little girl that looked exactly like his wife to raise when he should've been left with Ijin, so Grandpa can still have some part of his son and daughter-in-law with him (Dayeon internalized these thoughts when she was younger).

— Dayeon knows how to do makeup! Again, this was mostly out of necessity — she had to learn how to cover up the bruises when she was being bullied. The bullies were smart enough to not go for her face, but sometimes when she fought back she'd catch a blow across the cheek — hence, she was forced to learn how to cover it up with makeup and over the years has perfected the art of hiding bruises. Sometimes, when Ijin comes home with bruises, she drags him to her room and helps him cover it up with makeup.

— Ijin and Dayeon actually have a lot of similarities and neither of them realize it. They have the same habits and quirks, and subconsciously hold the same fears of revealing their past traumas. It's honestly a bit ironic and hilarious, seeing as physically Ijin and Dayeon look nothing alike for siblings. For example, Ijin works out and goes on runs when something is weighing on his mind while Dayeon paces the floor until it is practically worn and tries to busy herself with chores.

It always makes Dayeon petulant when one of her friends or the Numbers point it out because she knows firsthand how frustrating her brother can be.

— When Yeona gets drunk she has the habit of buying an excessive amount of things for her friends. Dayeon's cold? Watch her buy a full set of expensive winter gear for her. The guys are feeling hungry? She'll clear out the entire convenience store. She has zero recollection of what she bought the next day and Hyeokjin and Jaehyeong find it hysterical when they see all of the absurd, random things she's bought. The whole group makes fun of how much money she wracked up in a single night. Seokju always has to take away her wallet beforehand whenever they go out.

— After the whole kidnapping arc with Dayeon and Yeona, Seokju took it upon himself to teach the girls some basic self defense. Mostly it's dodging and escaping holds, and they've both gotten pretty good! When they first started out, Ijin would be staring lasers at Seokju on the sidelines whenever he would handle his sister, which he felt he could personally do without. Now, Ijin helps out with the training while Yeongchan, Jaehyeong, and Hyeokjin spectate and cheer. While it irks him, the girls love it and take the opportunity to show off what they've learned.

— Jaehyeong says that he doesn’t know what he wants to be in the future, but secretly he wants to be a race car driver. He loves cars. As soon as this guy gets his hands on a license, he’ll be driving everywhere. Constantly gets pulled over for speeding tickets. If the friend group was ever in an apocalypse, Jaehyeong would be their getaway driver simply because he’s crazy behind the wheel, and can probably pull off all those stunts you see in the movies. His grandpa is the chairman of Gihyeon Motors, so you bet he’ll have access to the best vehicles there is. He’s the guy who’ll pull up to school or a McDonald’s in a sports car just to brag (he’d get it in orange, simply because it’s his signature color and he likes to be obnoxious).

Keeps his dream of being a race car driver private because he doesn’t want his family to take that away from him (which they could). So far, his plan is to complete his military requirement after high school to stall his way from the family business — because unlike Hyeokjin, he hates business — but after that he’s got nothing. However, after seeing Yeongchan pursue a career in streaming, he found he can become much more courageous in voicing his opinion of his future.

— The funniest thing about 004 is that he actually has a resting pretty face but chooses to look like a straight up sewer demon on a regular basis. 005 said once in passing that “004 can actually look good if he just shuts his mouth” and instead of taking it as a challenge of being attractive while talking like a normal person, he chose to twist his facial features into the most horrific expressions possible while spewing nonsense. Still, in the rare moments when he is calm, his face softens and you can properly see the ‘pretty boy’ face he hides behind his ‘bad boy’ exterior.

— 016 is actually a bit of a baker amongst the Numbers. It was a hobby he indulged in recently when he found he had a bit of free time, and it had appealed to him because it required a lot of measurements and techniques that he — as a sniper — appreciated. It was a lot of trial and error for him since he literally had no idea what he was doing but he picked up the skill quickly and soon was making sweets from scratch that the Numbers frequently stole. He found that he doesn’t agree with having too much sugar in his desserts (hard to have much of a sweet tooth growing up in poverty) so he mainly makes desserts without much sugar, like shortbread.

— Ijin loves stargazing. He’s had the habit since he was a kid, constantly looking up since he knew he came from the sky when he was at the Camp. When he was on the run as a mercenary, he often turned to the stars to guide him when he didn’t have a map. When Major Kang found out Ijin liked stars he made sure to buff up on astronomy knowledge so he could teach him about constellations and such (Ijin never really got it which made him sulk). He thinks that something as beautiful as the night sky should simply be admired, not understood. It was the only thing that brought him peace when he was alone. He likes the silent beauty the stars can bring him; he can get lost staring at them for hours. It was a shame when he found out he can’t see them anymore thanks to Seoul’s light pollution, and it was one of the few things he missed when he was back in Grian.

[seullovesme]

sore arms » park sooyoung

pairing ⥬ park sooyoung

genre ⥬ fluff

summary ⥬ after sooyoung spent a night in your room, your arms seem to be a little weak. weird..

warnings ⥬ mentions of sex

WC ⥬ 0.9k

you walk out of your room, stretching your arms above your head while letting out a yawn. you make your way to the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen, and you see seungwan over by the stove and joohyun by the sink.

"morning, sleepyhead. did you sleep well?" joohyun asked after noticing you standing over by the kitchen counter.

you hummed. "i'd say so. why are you two up so early?" the oldest looked over to the clock that hung on the wall, the time reading 9:34. she let out an airy laugh, looking at you with one eyebrow raised in amusement.

"this is early?" you nod, smiling dumbly at how silly it sounded now that she said it out loud. she sighed. "what could you guys do without me?"

"hey, i'm the one cooking over here!" seungwan chimes in and you notice that she was making one of your favorites. she turns around and sees you staring at the food she has yet to cook. "you wanna help me out? the more hands, the quicker we finish."

"sure!" you went over to where she was standing and observed the food laid out. you felt yourself drooling over it, seungwan always made your favorites taste incredible.

she pulls out a pan and a wooden spoon, handing you it before placing the pan in a new spot on the burner. "okay, just put it in the pan and mix it around till it's cooked. make sure not to let it sit for too long or it will stick together." she instructs and you nod, beginning to stir away.

not even 5 minutes in, you feel the muscles in your forearm burn like hell. you try to power through, but the burn is just so strong and your arm is worn "unnie, can you take it for a minute." you give the spoon back to the squirrel as she just judges you with her eyes.

"seriously? come on, don't be lazy, it cooks fast. here." she motions to give it back, but you whine and push it away.

"no unnie, i can't. shit, my forearm hurts so bad." you groan, holding your arm while opening and closing your hand, the sensation intensifying when your muscle contracts. joohyun comes from behind you and grabs you, her face ridden with concern.

she press into the top part of your forearm, the big muscle, and you yelp at the pain, jolting away from her. she grabs hold of you again and continues to press all the spots leading up to your wrist, and you let her do her thing but not without biting down on your other fist.

"all your muscles are so tense and strained, what did you do? were you working out last night?" she interrogates, gently massaging you as she talks.

your face flushes at her last question because you were certainly working out last night. joohyun sees how red your face is and squints at you in a suspecting manner.

you clear your throat. "no, i was just resting all last night in my room, no activities." you state calmly. she was about to say something when the sound of a door shutting startles her.

it caught all your attentions, everybody silently waiting for the person to appear.

"smells good! is the food done yet?" sooyoung says cheerily, trying to fix her messy hair. joohyun glances at her disheveled figure and looks to you, noticing how your hair was messy as well.

she looks back to sooyoung and sees that she was in one of your oversized tees with your shorts on. it was the one always in your basket when she did laundry.

once she realizes, she turns to seungwan who looked like she had seen a ghost. seemed like she realized the same thing as her. joohyun dropped your arm and backed away. "ew!"

she wiped her hands on her pants and rushed to the sink, washing her hands aggressively with soap.

"what? what's ew?" you held your arm.

"you and sooyoung! i touched that hand, gross!" she hollered. your cheeks felt hot as you bit your lip in embarrassment.

seungwan just stared at you with her mouth open in shock. "that's why your arm is sore.. you freak!" she went back to cooking, shaking her head trying not to imagine the two of you in bed together. she was also mumbling something along the lines of 'horny sex addicts'.

sooyoung laughed before coming to hug you from behind. "don't worry, they're just mad they aren't getting any." you snorted a laugh, offending the bunny and hamster.

"as if, i could get anyone i wanted in the snap of a finger." joohyun boasted to deny the statement.

"oh yeah? then what happened with that girl you were going out with?"

joohyun huffed at the mention of her failed attempt at getting her own partner. "im leaving. seungwan, call me when the food is ready." she stormed away, disappearing into the hallway.

as joohyun left, seulgi came in, glancing back at the angry bunny that just passed her. she pointed at the slamming door and looked at you and sooyoung.

"what's up with unnie?" she asked innocently, not knowing anything about what just happened. you both shrugged.

"sexual frustration, it makes people crazy i guess." the tall girl suggested. seulgi nodded slowly, trying to think about that. sounded true to her, so she just went straight to bothering the shortest by eating the food that she cooked, getting yelled at and hit by the little chef.

what an eventful morning after such an eventful night.

[delusionalwriter02]

Hello! If you’re not to busy I was wondering if you could write for dazai, chuuya, fyodor, and sigma with a reader that wears like baggy clothing(kind of like skater style) but one day they’re at a special event and are dressed all elegantly😱

You should dress like that more often

Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma x GN Reader / Fluff / Headcanons

a/n : Thank you so much for your request !! I love the idea so let's goo, hope you like it. I kept the same "environment" but change the dialogues and interactions for them, I'm sorry if the beginning is the same, I didn't really know how to correctly do it.

Dazai :

The grand reception hall buzzed with an air of sophistication as the doors opened to welcome the distinguished guests. Dazai, draped in an all-black attire, strolled into the venue with an air of nonchalance. His sharp eyes quickly scanned the room, ever observant.

Amidst the sea of elegantly dressed peoples, Dazai's attention was captivated by a figure weaving through the crowd. You, typically adorned in loose-fitting clothing and a perpetually disgruntled expression, had undergone a remarkable transformation for the evening.

Dazai couldn't help but stop in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight. The dark fabric accentuated your shoulders and narrow waist, revealing a side of you that had been carefully concealed beneath layers of baggy clothes.

He blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Dazai mused aloud, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

-"Don't act all surprised. Thought I'd try something different for the occasion."

Dazai's smirk widened. "Different is an understatement. I didn't know you had such a figure hiding under those oversized garments. Did you hire a personal stylist, or is this a secret talent of yours?"

You sighed, attempting to maintain composure. "I thought I'd make an effort, that's all. Is it really that surprising?"

Dazai chuckled, circling you as if inspecting the change. "Oh, it is surprising. I never thought I'd see the day when you embraced the concept of form-fitting clothing. It suits you, though."

A faint blush colored your cheeks, and Dazai couldn't help but enjoy the rare sight of you, his partner momentarily flustered. As you both continued into the reception, Dazai couldn't resist teasing you about this new fashion choice. Even if, secretly, he hopes that this won't be the last time you wear these clothes.

Chuuya :

The hall glittered with chandeliers as Chuuya made his entrance. His eyes scanned the room. Amidst the sea of formalwear, his attention was captivated by a figure he recognized immediately.

You, who typically favored loose, comfortable attire, had taken a bold step into the world of formal clothing for the evening. The midnight-blue fabric clung to your frame, accentuating curves and lines that were usually hidden beneath more relaxed clothing.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Well, who are you and what have you done to my partner ?" he remarked, his voice carrying a tone of mild surprise. "Didn't think I'd see you strutting around like a runway model tonight."

You were caught off guard by Chuuya's observation, you shot him a playful glare. "I can dress up when I want to. Not every day I get to attend such fancy events."

Chuuya chuckled, his smirk growing. "I never said you couldn't. Just didn't expect you to go from baggy to body-hugging in one night."

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Thought I'd give the fashion police something to talk about. You know, keep them on their toes."

Chuuya laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Well, you've certainly achieved that. I didn't know you had a hidden fashionista side. Maybe I've been underestimating you all this time."

You rolled yours eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. "Underestimating? Please, Chuuya, I can be full of surprises when I want to be."

"Clearly," Chuuya replied, still grinning. "You're stealing the spotlight tonight. Who knew you could turn heads ?"

The conversation continued at length but Chuuya had a hard time staying focused. One wonders why.

Fyodor :

The grand reception hall exuded an air of sophistication as Fyodor's gaze methodically surveyed the room, searching for you. Amidst the elegant crowd, his attention was drawn to a figure moving gracefully through the gathering.

You, typically draped in loose-fitting garments, had chosen to deviate from your usual style for the evening. The pretty clothes you wore accentuated your form in a way that intrigued Fyodor, in more way than one.

Fyodor maintained his composed demeanor as he went to talk to you, "A departure from the usual, I see. What inspired this sartorial change?"

You, meeting his gaze with a confident expression, replied, "Figured it was time for a subtle transformation. People tend to underestimate the power of appearances."

Fyodor nods, "A strategic choice, then. You understand the impact of perception."

You grinned, "Well, I thought I'd add a touch of intrigue to the evening. Keep things interesting."

Fyodor's lips curved into a faint smile. "An admirable goal. Complexity often begets fascination."

You laughed, “A little dance?” you said, holding out your hand. “I have a partner who will be jealous if they see me in such nice company.” Fyodor said, accepting your outstretched hand.

“You’re really stupid,” you replied, taking him further away, away from the people.

A fascinating evening, indeed.

Sigma :

Sigma in his dark attire entered the hall. Amidst the swirl of activity, his attention was drawn to somebody standing in one of the corner, alone.

You who usually favoring loose-fitting clothes, had opted for something different, very different.

Sigma approached with a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Someone's bringing a whole new vibe tonight. What's the story behind the stylish upgrade?"

You grinned, a spark of confidence in your eyes. "Just felt like trying something out of the ordinary. You know, adding a dash of flair to this boring and stupid party."

Sigma chuckled. "Flair, indeed. It suits you. And here I thought I was the only one allowed to make dramatic entrances."

You teased back, "Oh, there's room for more than one in the spotlight. Care to join me for a dance in the middle of it all?"

Sigma raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, I suppose I could be persuaded. Let's make tonight memorable, shall we?"

Sigma held out his hand, you took it. He lead you to the center of the room, ready to make this evening trully memorable.

Hey! I hope you liked it? I'm sorry for having kept a certain line for all the characters but I must admit that I lacked inspiration to bring about the different situations.

See you <3

[magicalmysteryperson]

Ok, so, I'm currently retelling the entire IRIS lore to a bunch of server buddies and.... look, normally I don't make fun of someone else's worldbuilding, but jesus christ the lore is a ten car pile-up. And boy howdy there was some really good riffing material in there.

Luckily, I have the pleasure of being an ex-fan of DAGames, so I have knowledge of things that happened as well as finally having the freedom and courage to criticize his work.

Here's the highlights and the observations I made:

The three deities are Hithistrus, Yondathaticus, and Wondramite. I couldn't stop laughing at the name "Wondramite." To the people that never experienced the lore like I did, get used to the names. We got an ass ton of stupid names to go through.

When I was talking about the whole overseer system, one person pointed out that its basically mormonism. Here's the quote that they provided for reference, as well as the wiki page for comparison: 'In Mormonism, the concept of divinity centers around an idea of "exaltation" and "eternal progression": mortals themselves may become gods and goddesses in the afterlife, be rulers of their own heavenly kingdoms, have spirit children, and increase in power and glory forever. Mormons understand that there is a Heavenly Mother. However, the three persons of Godhead (God the Father, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost) are to be the only objects of worship.'

Sooo yeah. Congrats, Will! You invented space mormonism.

Nothing wrong with that. I just thought it was kinda interesting.

The species from the colony called the "Crimson Tartarus" sound pretty cool. They seem to be like gargoyle orc versions of Heatblast... which makes my ire for the design of Father Tyrant even stronger. Like, why is he a frickin' human being?! And don't say "well it's because of the death and rebirth system" BITCH, HUMANS ARE IN VEGALA 0/VINTRACEED, NOT VEGALA 2/XYNE, WHERE THE CRIMSON TARTARUS LIVE. DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT.

The Bozchlyth Gnialare are literally the Tyranids from Warhammer 40k. In fact, I described the IRIS lore as "Warhammer 40k fanfiction with the numbers filed off"

"If memory serves well, we serve the memory…." Why yes. If something is happening, then its happening.

Lady Fate is a space elf. And no, I couldn't find a design for her on the wiki. I mean, she's a pivotal character in the story. Why doesn't she get an image?

So... why did the Deities blow up their castle? I mean, the crypt below it contained the IRIS and the bible. No, not even the wiki could give me a clear answer as to what the castle even is, nor who made it their home.

I summarized the whole "Castle That Never Dies" speech that Father Tyrant did as "Maybe the castle is the friends we made along the way".

Actually the whole Vegalian revolt part of the story was pretty badly written. Tyrant is kinda dumb tbh. I mean, he's smart enough to make an invisibility potion but not smart enough to know that the nectar from the Bryntulia bushes, which... ok I get it they have healing properties and shit but they also make you super drunk and pass the f--k out?

I summarized Father Tyrant and Lady Fate as Reapertale Sans and Toriel.

When I learned that "Yonder" means "There" and "Hither" means "Here", I unintentionally got "Hip to be Square" by Huey Lewis and the News stuck in my head.

I had such a hard time with remembering Vyson Pavavorey's name that I had to call him Viceroy for simplicity's sake. Another person called him "Vice City". Other names that I called him include: - Viceroy McStupidname - Viceroy Pavlovdogface - Viceroy McAssholeface - Vice City Pavlov Response

I also couldn't find a design for Viceroy, save for his gauntlet. Like... come on, man.

One person called the Vegalians "Vegetable People" or "Vegans"

I made an observation that the Dark Matter creatures are most likely personifications of Will's mental state based on my analysis of the creatures' descriptions.

Someone derailed the conversation with a fact about maternity fatalities

How I described how Goliath came to be: "TL;DR, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they protect their kingdom from a swarm of shadow creatures, revive their dead army, rush over to a fusion of all those monsters combined and beat it up, get their blood on it, and let that monster give birth to an egg. That's how goliath was formed"

Reading the IRIS lore from the wiki made me feel like my brain was oozing out of my ears. I described it as "like reading a Warhammer 40k lore guide or a DnD lore guide".

I stopped at the part where Goliath was now guarding the Encrypt. Once I have enough energy, I'll be able to tell Abrham's part of the story.

Someone described Abrham Valentin as "Harley Quinn as an edgy cyber goth guy"

...in conclusion, I think I found the sci-fi dark fantasy equivalent to Riverdale.... minus all the ships and pairings.

Stay tuned for part 2. I have a feeling that its gonna get stupider from here.

And if you want to experience the shit I had to trek through, feel free to peruse the wiki and take a plunge.

[kaiser1ns]

KIKI KIKI i have a questionnnnn what is ur favorite thing about chika??

NYX MY LOVE , sorry for the delay but here we go !!! this is going to be like a selfship post but anyway enjoy :3

one of my favourite things about him is his eyes — the color and the form. i can stare at them all day and observe the way he expresses his emotions with only just a look: they widen when he is excited, narrow when he is sceptical, when he looks away showing disinterest.

especially love it when his eyes go big and he just stands there with no thoughts in his brain, looking like a cute small kitten.

of course, you would have guessed it ... his arms !!! i don't even have to talk about it, just know that once i get him to hold me, i am not leaving his embrace and he doesn't have a choice letting me go either. i'm also kinda tall, slightly above the average, 168cm (5'6") and chika is 183cm (6'0") so it's gonna be so much easier when we hug or kiss. wrapping my arms around his waist, while he hugs my shoulders. hugs !! from !! behind !! where he wraps his toned arms around my chest and i can feel his heartbeat, resting his head on top of my head or me hugging him from behind, my arms wrapping arous his waist while my head rests on his back. he doesn't have to bend much just to lean slightly forward while i tilt my head up and then steal a kiss.

next is his jaw ! i just found it so attractive for some reason, it's not too sharp just perfect. it's actually a little embarrassing talking about things i found attractive in fictional men because i do find them appealing in real men. neck/collarbone/jaw kisses are a must ! just appreciating every part of him and showing it in kisses, so many kisses!

i have a little bit of a long nails so it's really calming for me when i trace all over his arms, squeezing the soft flesh, scratching it, feeling his muscles tightening... i think he will love receiving massages, and good for him because i have magical hands, gonna make him relax because for someone who looks calm, he is very tense! don't worry baby, i got ya ♡

next his lips, those soft lips, that i can kiss every day and night ♡ tiptoeing to reach his beautiful and soft face, cupping his cheeks with my hands and leaving a loving kiss. kissing his neck if standing close together, as the height difference is literally perfect. surprising him with a quick peck on the lips or cheek by pulling him down by his collar or reaching up. when he smiles, oh my that smile im melting, blushing and giggling because he is just so cute i could nom nom him. i will always nom nom chika !

i'm not done with his arms. play !! fights !! one of my love languages is physical affection and i also tend to show my love by hitting and biting. so i launch at him with all my might, fists flying, slaps landing with sharp snaps. he barely flinches, effortlessly twists out of my grips. i go harder, twisting his arm back, and he responds with just enough force to match me, never more. i know he could easily overpower me, but he’s learned where the line is—never crossing it. i taught him well. play fighting with chika is my favorite time ♡

okay but his fashion sense, im stealing his wardrobe, all of it !!! he dresses so nice i would like to wear his clothes all the time, oh my god his shirt would probably be slightly oversized and i will use them as pajamas. mmm, yes we are the dress to impress couple, hitting pose 28 !!!

LAST BUT NOT LEAST his amazing and pretty long hair. i don't like men with long hair, but there are exceptions like chika, my pretty princess. i bet its so soft and fluffy, running my hands through it will be like me playing with clouds. playing with hid hair would calm me down in seconds, even making me fall asleep on the spot. occasionally dying the yellow tips again almost turning myself into a minion with those yellow painted hands. i love his hair and the style he has it (please bae don't cut it, i will love you no matter what but please dont)

OVERALL I JUST LOVE CHIKA, ALL OF HIM. he climbed the ranks to be one of my favorite characters faster than anyone, so he set a new record !!

(please someone get me a boyfriend because im so lonely and the way i cope is by liking and obsessing over fictional characters, thank you!)

[hidelias]

A bend in space-time Season 1 - [Chapter 6: A pain in the ass]

Chronological markers: this scene fits like a deleted scene from season 1 episode 2, around 32:25 (after Allison and Viktor's talk). TW : Addiction - Petty crimes - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - Anxiety & anxiety attacks - (Child) captivity & confinement.

Additional note: I chose to always refer to Eliott's page character as Viktor, even while writing about season 1.

Suggested soundtrack : Paloma Faith - Never Tear Us Appart

---

March 25, 2019 - 10h51 am

I tried to calm down in Diego's room, but my mind was a storm. I tried to wash away my anger in the cool water of the bathroom sink, but seeing Klaus's packet of 'chocolate' on the edge of the bathtub made me want to stomp on it. Instead, I finally went back downstairs for - yet - another coffee. Really, it's a good thing I bought several packs, because I can see that Five has already happily raided them.

Once again, I find myself sitting alone at the large wooden dining room table, waiting for the black nectar to run through the machine. This dimly lit room has become something of a refuge for me, since I've been staying at Hargreeves Mansion, perhaps because it's the one that feels most like home. Ironically, it's also the place where I'm most likely to run into someone.

Suddenly, there's a noise in the corridor. Light footsteps. Someone approaching. I stiffen in my chair, trying to regain my composure and hide the tumult of my emotions. Then I see him enter and I can immediately guess who he is: dark hair, oversized black jacket, shifty eyes. Viktor, whom I've never met before, his keys in his hand.

There's a moment of awkward silence, then he clears his throat and says to me:

"Hi. Um, I'm sorry, have you seen my music case? Black and gray. About the size of a briefcase." These very concrete words snap me back to reality. "Oh. Yes, I think I've seen it, next to the shopping bags over there".

I point to the spot by the fridge. I guess Viktor's heard of me by now, just like Five. So has everyone else. He expresses no surprise at finding me there. And looking for his sheet music has just calmed me down a great deal, as if everyday life had come back to me.

"I'm Rin," I say, and he nods. "I know you are. It's nice to meet you."

I don't know if he means it - I suspect he's used to putting on a poker face - but I can see him trying to smile. Then he rummages under the shopping bags, his hands a little shaky, and pulls out the case that was definitely there. He quickly inspects it. Clearly, for him, it's a precious object.

"Did you see anyone touch it?" "No, I didn't see anyone."

And given that all the bags were on it, nobody will probably have noticed. The coffee's finished brewing, and I get up to go to the machine. I take my now usual mug, stamped with the umbrella like the rest of the dishes. It looks like a nerdy collectible, which is somewhat ridiculous. Clearly, Reginal Hargreeves has never moved on.

"Would you like a coffee?" Viktor hesitates, while beginning to unpack his sheet music to check their condition, and finally nods. "Yes, thank you."

So I pull a second mug from the shelf, pour him a hearty glassful of the black liquid, and return to sit at the long table while he finally closes his case, reassured. His gaze meets mine briefly, and he frowns imperceptibly for a moment before saying:

"You already look exhausted after forty-eight hours".

It's not a question: it's an observation, and I let out a heavy sigh as Viktor takes his place opposite me, his sheet music on the adjacent chair. I sense him as someone whom life has made reserved, with decent social skills possibly damaged by a kind of loneliness.

"Yes… but it's nice to meet you too. Klaus talks about you from time to time".

Everything I know about Viktor I learned from Klaus and from the back cover of his book at the bookshop. He looks down into his coffee, thoughtful for a moment. Then, after a few seconds, he repeats, as if to himself:

"He talks about me from time to time…" I shrug. Having uttered Klaus's name has just brought back a shiver of anger. "Sometimes, yes. You know how he is, he doesn't say much about his life. But sometimes something comes out of the blue, especially when he's high. I think he admires your talent for music."

I don't know if Viktor has ever noticed how good music is for Klaus. Maybe it's the same for him, as it is for many people. Like coffee or other psychoactive substances, music acts directly on our nervous systems. By now, I feel Viktor is touched by my words, and when he speaks again, he's finally a little more assertive.

"I'm glad to hear it. He takes a sip of coffee and looks again at the wood of the table. "Are you a musician?"

There's curiosity in his voice this time, and I notice a certain sadness in his gestures. Even though I've only known him for a few moments, in some ways he reminds me of Klaus: a good soul who's pretty much screwed up, trying to protect himself behind walls. I can't help but blame their father. Now that the eulogy is over, I feel I'm allowed to think whatever I want about him again.

"I sing a little," I say only in all sincerity, "but I don't play any instruments. To be honest, my mother couldn't afford it and I don't know if I would have been able to. But I have a lot of admiration for people who can do that.

Five would no doubt joke that I'm into 'a different kind of string theory', and would overwhelm me with equations again. Viktor doesn't seem disappointed by this answer, even if he would have liked to find someone who shared his passion.

"It's already very good. I'm sure your voice is clear and fair". I laugh softly, as it amuses me that he can detect this simply by conversing. "I don't know. Basically, only Klaus and my shower curtain have ever heard it."

Viktor smiles, and I notice that I didn't feel any anger this time when I said Klaus's name.

"How did you and Klaus meet?"

I look at him, but his gaze doesn't stay in mine. I take a sip of coffee. How I met Klaus…

"That depends," I say. "There's the meeting he remembers… and the one he doesn't."

To be honest, I won't discuss the latter here. Besides, I don't think Viktor will be particularly surprised to hear that Klaus often forgets events. I inhale deeply.

"We met in police custody."

Perhaps this won't surprise Viktor either: I don't think he has any illusions about Klaus's acquaintances. I just hope he won't be too disappointed in me, as things were starting out rather well. He leans back against the back of his chair, somewhat uncomfortably.

"Oh. Um… Why were you in custody?"

His question is very cautious, and I feel I don't have to answer if I don't want to. But after all, Allison and Diego already know, and I have no particular reason to hide it from Viktor. And the answer is actually easier than it sounds.

"I don't even know what I'd stolen that day, or where I'd been taken. It happened all the time: we ended up meeting there regularly, he and I. And police custody, you know… it's the only place I can't teleport myself out of. It only makes things worse." I blink, and carry on, feeling Viktor's gaze on me. "I don't do that anymore. Not for ten years. Seriously, I don't do it anymore."

Viktor nods, clearly relieved. And I don't think he'll dig any deeper.

"What a mess", he whispers to himself, but with a kindness that relieves me. Deep down, he's right. And cautiously, he adds: "Are you… are you the one, visiting him in rehab?"

Oh. So Viktor knows that.

"Yes. When he's allowed to. It's far from my favorite place in the world. And sometimes… I don't even know he's been sent there. This time, for instance, I had no idea." I shake my head gently. "Even when he was diagnosed, he designated me as 'relatives' representative."

And none of the Hargreeves. By the way: I don't know if Viktor knows about his brother's diagnoses. But in any case, Klaus himself doesn't remember much either. Viktor's expression becomes noticeably softer, and I get a better-than-ever glimpse of the sensitivity beneath his silence.

"He's lucky he bumped into you. For quite some time, too, I'd say."

His sincerity is clear, but he quickly turns serious and hesitant again, half-hidden behind his mug of black coffee. As if contemplating whether or not to ask. And then finally, he seems to gather his courage, and asks:

"If you think you can tell me… do you then know if…" He pauses for a second, as if this question brings him back to himself. "Do… do you know what he's been diagnosed with?"

Now he looks at me with concerned eyes, and I stare back at him, all the while wondering if it's fair for me to talk about this instead of Klaus himself. However, he'd be incapable of telling something he can't remember, and I sense that Viktor means him anything but harm. I don't touch my coffee any more, just trace around the cup with my finger.

"Does the term 'chronic PTSD' mean anything to you?" Viktor listens to me in a focused way, and I can see that my words are echoing a certain way. "'Chronic PTSD'," he repeats, blinking. "That refers to some kind of trauma, doesn't it?" I meet his gaze then return to the wooden table. "It's… it stands for post-traumatic stress disorder. You know, doctors, they talk fast, so I didn't understand it all, but… you know how Klaus is."

Maybe there's no need for a long explanation. Even without knowing Klaus for ten years, one can easily sense his avoidance behaviors, his constant reminiscences of intrusive memories, as well as his obvious dissociative episodes. His agitation and delusional fragility, too. I rub my tired eyes.

"I don't know everything. But it's obvious that part of what hurt him… he has no choice but to relive it over and over again. The ghosts… they never stop haunting him, and neither do the memories. No matter how hard he tries to silence them".

Viktor just listened to me without moving at all, his expression serious and pained. I'm not sure I'm telling him anything new, but I can tell that hearing it from an outsider hits hard.

"I…" He hesitates, but finally decides to speak. "Maybe you should know too…"

I frown, as I see his breathing quicken somewhat. My attention is on him, like a tight rope. I know there's a lot I don't know about Klaus's past, even if bits and pieces of it have occasionally reached me in a fragmented way.

"Our father… when… when we were younger. He…" Boy, this sentence is off to a bad start. And I cross my hands under the table, as if to force myself to focus. "He used to give each of them… 'special training' sessions".

I immediately note that in this sentence, Viktor describes himself as a silent spectator, and this fact pains me as much as what I know I'm about to discover. I see him reach into his pocket and pull out a round tin, swallowing a pill without even taking a sip of coffee. He's struggling with his words now, as if his throat is too tight to let them go.

"Klaus's took place… in a mausoleum."

My eyebrows furrow. I appreciate his efforts, and keep quiet, so as not to close the fragile path that has opened up. He takes a deep breath.

"He would stay there for hours. Sometimes for days. With 'them'".

I look down at my knees. Unfortunately, for the fragments of memories collected over the course of troubled nights, I think I knew without ever having put it that way.

"He was locking him up?" Viktor looks at me above the darkness of his umbrella coffee cup, and his fingers are probably trembling a little despite the pill he's taken. "I believe so."

Several seconds pass, during which I simply can't produce a sound. Like Viktor, it's now me struggling to free my throat from the knot that has formed there. It doesn't matter if the intention was to push his power further, faster. What kind of human is capable of that?

"Fuck" is the only thing I manage to say.

Like a huge blow to my face, I regret having yelled at him earlier, and it's now Reginald Hargreeves that my anger is directed at. I told Klaus the other day that we'd had 'very different lives'. I had no idea how different. And I feel pretty bad about saying that to him.

"I'm sorry for all of you," I say, painfully.

Because the truth is, I also feel sorry for Viktor. I haven't read his book, I probably should have. I can imagine that growing up here as an 'ordinary' child was a different but terrible kind of curse. His wrist has no more tattoo than mine. And although he doesn't say anything, I can see that his expression has become firmer again. Perhaps he has no desire to inspire pity.

"We all have our problems," he says, "we just have to deal with them".

With different strategies and varying degrees of success. I nod, and we both silently drink our coffees again. Now I'm completely calm, almost too calm, and a form of resolution is growing in my mind. I look at Viktor again.

"Klaus… it doesn't change the fact that - sometimes - he can be a real dickhead".

And with those words, a smile stretches across my face, so much so that Viktor can easily see the affection nestled within my insult. He laughs softly, with a brittle breath, and approves.

"An absolute pain in the ass". His laughter fades into a sincere smile, and he finally sets curious eyes on me. "But you like him that way, don't you?" "Yes. And it's really too bad he doesn't remember how much I owe him".

---

Notes:

It wasn't an easy chapter, but I think Viktor's personality is what helped me write it.

Even in ten years, there are still many things left unsaid between Klaus and Rin, simply because there are issues he cannot talk about, not deliberately anyway. I tried my best to respect the characters, including Rin. It wasn't easy, but I think this chapter is important.

Rin's last sentence is not insignificant. Could there be a mystery brewing jusst as coffee?

Any comment will make my day! ♡

---

A bend in space-time, the masterlist :

- Season 1 (complete): Table of contents - Season 2 (complete): Table of contents - Season 3 (complete): Table of contents - Season 4 (in progress) : Table of contents

[isaackuo]

What did Wilzig know and how?

So, I'm pretty sure Wilzig died not knowing Lucy's first name. Therefore, he deduced her name from the fact that her goal is to rescue her father, who was taken by Moldaver.

I guess he had some sort of communication with Moldaver, or possibly simply heard about Moldaver and her crew taking Overseer MacLean through the area. I'm guessing Ma June did NOT see or hear about Hank MacLean being dragged through the area, given her reaction to Lucy.

So that just leaves Wilzig's unusual knowledge of Vault 33 in general. I don't think that's something he would have randomly learned from Moldaver. Even if Moldaver were bizarrely talkative with Wilzig, there's no way she could have observed that the projections were images of Nebraska specifically.

I guess Wilzig had information about Vault 33, and presumably other vaults also, from his time in The Enclave or before?

[phantarein]

#phantawrites: see no devil

It's one of my OC projects, so I'm going to start putting progress in the form of little bits :)

It's mainly about a romance between a famous singer who has many secrets and a bartender who has a big heart! Maybe even a polycule as time goes on hehe

Here is what I got so far! It's 4k words ↓

For Dante, the night was his solace, where all inhibitions were thrown away and people's true selves came out.

The bar he works in became his sanctuary, where he can observe the intricate dance of human emotion unfold. Being a bartender was entertaining, where no one would pay him any mind and maybe have a small chat over drinks, besides, nobody questioned why he was wearing a mask.

It was perfect.

Tonight was a normal night, he was just making small talk and serving drinks, nothing special.

"Hm~ This place is lively, don't you think?"

Dante glanced up from pouring a drink, his eyes meeting with those of a white-haired man. He recognized him immediately, Luz Morningstar, the famous singer... he stood there with an enigmatic smile, the dim lights making him look almost ethereal.

"Uh, yeah. It's always buzzing around here." Dante replied with a calm and collected voice, despite being an anxious wreck on the inside, being masked did wonders.

Seeing him so close, he could feel Luz's presence was magnetic as if he was being drawn in.

Luz leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on Dante. "I've seen you here before, haven't I? You're the one who always wears the mask. It's an interesting choice for a bartender."

Dante chuckled, which betrayed his usual shyness. "Yeah, I guess it's just my thing. Adds a bit of mystery to the atmosphere, you know?"

Luz's lips curled into a sly grin. "Mystery can be intriguing." His voice was like music to his ears, making his heart skip a beat.

As the night progressed Luz kept him company. The mysterious aura surrounding Dante seemed to be a magnet for Luz, who was weirdly drawn to the other man.

Dante had no problem enticing the singer even more, he was usually reserved and introverted, however thanks to his mask he was able to get an unspoken connection with Luz. 

"So... when does your shift end?" Luz's melodic voice echoed through his head, knowing where this could lead.

"In around 15 minutes, why?" He fiddled with some glasses, unsure about the sudden question.

"Hm~ Maybe we could... talk more somewhere else?" Dante gulps, well, maybe this once...

-

Dante feels warm and happy, he had a great dream. He brings his body pillow even closer.

"Hehe, are you usually that much of a cuddler?" He hears someone talk, but, he lives alone... Suddenly he remembers everything that happened last night. Had they really-?

"Um, uh, good morning." He detaches himself from Luz and tries his best not to look awkward, however, he notices he doesn't have his mask on.

"You are so cute, you know that? Despite looking so cute you're a complete beast in bed... I must admit it was one of my best nights." Luz gets up, only wearing one of his oversized shirts. "Hm~ What do you want for breakfast?

"Um, breakfast?" Dante nervously looks at his surroundings, searching for a way to conceal his face. He finds his trusty face mask on the floor, along with all his clothes.

"Mhm, I've been told my pancakes are amazing. I have quite the sweet tooth you see." Luz just stared at him while he dressed, a lazy smile on his face. "So... I can cook for you if you'd let me."

Now with his mask (and clothes) on he regains the little confidence he had. And without thinking he just replied. "Yeah! Sure, I haven't eaten pancakes in so long." 

"Ha ha, then don't mind me." And Luz walks out of the room and into the kitchen with an oversized blouse.

Dante, realizing his situation, just sits in silence.

Not only had he fucked a big celebrity, but he had also made that celebrity cook for him like they were... something.

Still, it didn't appear to be a bad thing. Luz himself looked quite content. But you know what they say about popularity, it gets over your head. So for him, this probably was just a fling and nothing more. Right?

-

It's been a month.

Luz has yet to go back to his apartment.

And the worst thing is that he didn't mind. Dante wasn't sure what to call their relationship. 

Luz cooked for him. They slept together and even watched movies in their free time. 

Just what was going on between them?

"Hey, Dante~" Luz entered his room (their room?) and threw himself into the bed, hugging Dante from behind. "What do you want to eat tonight?"

"Um... pizza sounds good." Now used to Luz's touch, Dante relaxed and hugged his pillow.

"Anything else you want?" Luz snuggled closer, wrapping his legs around Dante's waist.

"No, I'm fine." Dante tried his best to concentrate on his book.

"Then... What about some dessert?" He felt Luz's hands snake his way toward his waistband.

Dante quickly closed his book and turned to face the white-haired man, a blush creeping on his face.

"W-wait, are you asking for"

"Yeah, sex. Is that okay with you? Of course, if you don't want to we can just-"

"N-no! It's okay!" Dante stuttered, a bit surprised at his sudden boldness. "But, could you give me some time to prepare?"

"Ha ha, sure, baby. Take your time." Luz got up and went into the kitchen.

-

As Dante showered, he continued to ponder on his relationship with Luz. He... liked him, liked him a lot. He could even call it "love".

He didn't know him for long, but some part of him yearned to be close to him, it was as if he was bewitched. It felt like a dream to have Luz in his home, he made it a home.

He already got so used to him in his house, that he brought life into his boring world.

But good things don't last.

-

Once he got out of the shower he was pleasantly surprised with a heavenly scent. Luz had somehow finished cooking, just how long did his shower take...?

He sneaks behind the singer and hugs him. "Hi"

Luz giggles. "Hi there~ Are you using the watermelon shampoo? It smells so good." He detaches himself from Luz and starts helping with the table.

-

Luz grabbed Dante's shirt, taking it off in a hurry.

Dante kissed Luz deeper, slowly making his way to his neck. Luz gasped when Dante bit down.

"Babe~ You're so needy today." He moaned as he felt Dante's tongue lick his skin.

"Can't help it, I can't have my fill of you-" He suddenly was interrupted by a loud noise in the living room. They both looked at each other with shock, just what could it be...?

Dante quickly got up. It probably was the wind, or maybe even a ghost—nothing to worry about.

He didn't expect to see a man in his living room... with a bat.

His heart sunk, adrenaline filling his veins. However, Luz got in front of him with an uncharacteristic cold expression.

"Cass." He sighs. "Explain."

The man (Cass?) drops the bat. "Morningstar, It's a pleasure to see you. It's not like you completely disappeared after going to a bar alone. Do you know just how worried I was?"

"I don't have the patience to deal with your bullshit right now. Why are you here?" He glared at the man, a cold feeling creeping on his body.

"Boss sent me, he was worried about your little escapade and wanted me to bring you back."

“Worried? Ha ha, I just can’t deal with this.” He sighs. “Alright, I’ll go. Give me a minute.” Luz said while he went to the bedroom.

Cass looked at Dante with a blank expression.

"Um, sorry, do you know each other?" Dante asked.

"Unfortunately." He deadpanned. "Who are you anyway?"

"Oh! My name's Dante, and..."

"I'm Castiel."

"Nice to meet you, I guess?" He fidgeted with his shirt, still unsure of the situation.

"Sorry to ruin your day, Dante. You two had a lovely evening, huh? I don't get why that snake is so charmed by you..."

Castiel gets closer to him. It felt like he was looking straight at his soul. "Hm, well, I should get going. It was nice meeting you."

He walks away and meets up with Luz. He whispers something, which Dante is unable to hear.

-

Dante was at work in the bar again.

He was alone and didn’t want to be bothered.

He thought he was in love.

It could be one-sided.

He should've known.

People like him didn't deserve love or happiness.

Suddenly, a man approaches. It was Nico.

"Hey, man! I couldn't contact you for so long, what happened? You left me on read for like, a month or so, why didn't you text back?" Nico was a friend he made in college, they were very close. 

"Oh... Nico, sorry, I've been busy." He wasn't in the mood to talk to the ball of sunshine that Nico was.

"Too busy? That's it? C'mon dude, I'm your friend and friends should help each other out!" He took a sip from his drink. "Hey, I can't keep pestering you here. I can tell you're not in a good mood. Want to talk about it over drinks?"

"Sure. Just give me a second." Dante served him another drink and then started pouring himself some whiskey. He shouldn't drink on the job but... it's fine.

He takes a long sip and looks at Nico.

-

"So... you've been fucking Morningstar, huh?"

"Uh, yeah..."

"I can't believe this... You're dating Luz Morningstar. Like, the Luz Morningstar! The singer!" Nico's excitement was palpable, it felt like his eyes would pop out.

"I wouldn't call it 'dating'" Dante looks at his whiskey like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"You don't call living with someone for a month 'dating'?! Spending as much time together as possible? You're insane, man!" He then took a shot. "Man... I can't believe this! You have to tell me everything! From the moment you met, the things he does, how is his dick-"

"Hey! Not so loud!" Dante exclaims.  "No, I mean, yeah, we were fucking, but..." He sighed. "We aren't a couple."

"Really? Hmm, that's a surprise. From the looks of it, you're head over heels for him."

"Yeah, but, he has his own life and-"

"Are you dumb?!" Nico's sudden outburst took him by surprise.

"Um, what...?"

"You have the chance to be with the world's most celebrity and yet you're not sure if you're a couple. You're a fucking idiot!"

"W-wait, no. Don't call me that. Besides, you're wrong." He tried to explain himself but, maybe he was a bit of an idiot.

"Nope! I'm not letting this pass! Now, let's plan!"

-

It was 3 AM and Dante was drunk.

They had spent the whole night talking about him, about his relationship, and how Nico would help him.

Dante's phone started ringing.

"Who would call you at this hour?" Nico asked.

"Hm, I don't know, maybe it's Luz."

"Oooh, then answer!"

He quickly answers with the hope that it may be him.

"Hello? Dante?" He could hear the sing-song tone of Luz, which made his heart skip a beat. "Are you at work?"

"Uh- yeah, yeah" He tried his best not to slur his words, however, he was quite tipsy. "Where are you?"

"Hm, are you... drunk? At work?" 

"Noooo, no. I'm fine." Dante was lying through his teeth, he had no idea what was happening.

"Right. Where are you?"

"Uh, The Black Dahlia"

"Hm, stay there. I'll pick you up."

"Oh, sure. See you, I love y-"

"Yeah, I love you too. See you there, babe."

He hangs up.

"Was that him?!"

“Mm, yeah.”

"You two are so sweet! I can't wait to meet him, you gotta introduce us!"

They spent the next few minutes chatting, Nico telling stories about his childhood, and Dante trying to pay attention.

He was too dizzy to think properly.

Suddenly, the doors open and Luz walks in.

"Dante!" He approaches them and from the corner of his eye, he can see Nico visibly sweat "Oh dear- Are you ok? I'll go ask your boss to let you leave for tonight..."

"Mhm, sure. Hey, Luz."

"Yes, Dante?"

"You look gorgeous."

"I know. Thanks, babe."

Luz went to the office probably to talk to his boss, meanwhile, Nico was staring at him.

"Oh my god, he's even hotter in real life!"

"Hah, I know, right?"

"I'm so jealous of you."

“Well… we don’t know each other too well. I’m not even sure what our relationship is… I only know superficial stuff, like how he loves sweets and is a cuddle monster.”

Dante didn't notice, but Luz was already next to him.

"Hm, a cuddle monster? Interesting."

"Uh-" He was flustered, the alcohol wasn't helping either.

"Anyways~ Let's go home. Your boss said it was A-OK!" He said before noticing Nico. "Oh? Didn't see you there, who might you be?"

"I'm Nico! Nice to meet you!" Nico shook his hand enthusiastically. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Well, it's always a pleasure to meet a fan. I'll give you a little something..."

Luz gave Nico his autograph and a few tickets before they started walking to the exit.

"Dante, I'll drive us home, you can sleep."

-

Dante woke up with a horrible headache, he felt like this was happening too much lately. He should cut off from drinking for a bit.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. I've made breakfast."

Dante groans, still half asleep. "What time is it?"

"9 AM, you should eat. Here."

"Thanks."

Dante notices Luz’s phone lights up with a notification, it is from someone called Cass… wait, Cass? Wasn't he…

“By the way, who was the man that came here the other day?” Dante asks, expecting the worst.

“Oh him? He's Castiel, he's technically my guard, but we have a much deeper relationship” Luz said nonchalantly, then he realized something. “OH! We aren't dating or anything, but we do things couples do sometimes. It's an unlabeled game of cat and mouse, I’m pretty sure he hates my guts.” He then sighs. “I'm sorry, I should have told you earlier.”

Dante looked at him in silence. He was not expecting this.

"I'm sorry, I know it was selfish of me. I just-"

"Don't worry, it's fine. I understand." Dante smiled and grabbed Luz's hands. "I like you, Luz. You don't have to explain yourself, I'm just happy to be with you."

"R-really? You don't know how happy this makes me." He pauses "I want you to meet him, properly, I mean. Not like the other day."

"...Why was he carrying a bat?"

"Huh… why was he carrying a bat?"

-

"Hello, Dante, nice to see you again."

"Same here."

Castiel stares at him, a stoic look on his face. "Morningstar, I'm assuming everything went well."

"Yeah, yeah, all good. Anyways, Cass, I wanted to introduce you to him. Properly."

"You're saying it like you want my blessings for your marriage."

"Ha ha, don't be silly” Luz then says in a cheery voice.

"Yeah, you better not. Because I want to be your first." Castiel then grabs Luz's hand in his. "I want to be the first ring in your hand." 

Luz starts maniacally laughing, and between coughs he mumbles, "There's no way you just said that, you're so gross." He then looks at him with loving eyes. "I'll remember that, you just made a deal with the Devil."

Dante was feeling like the awkward third wheel, but still quite embarrassed at the PDA.

"Anywho, you two, please take a seat, I'll get something to eat." He went to the kitchen, leaving them both alone.

There was complete silence in the apartment.

Should he break the ice?

"Um-"

"So-”

They stare at each other, and Castiel makes him a sign to go first.

"Sorry." Dante fidgets a bit. "So, how did you and Luz meet?"

"I wanted to ask you the same." Castiel then looks at the wall, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "He's a complete disaster, without me he wouldn't be able to even get out of bed, did you know he still sleeps with the lights on? It's either that or he just sleeps with someone to keep him company." He sighs and looks at him sternly. "You don't know him, at all, so don't even think you are in my level. You're just another fun toy for him to fool around with, he'll always come back to me. Just to me."

Dante could feel that this was a threat, but... "I don't care, I don't care that this could be just a temporary thing, you do not get to act like he's your property, he's a person." He feels the anger dissipating from himself, but now he realizes his mistake in saying that out loud.

Dante closes his eyes in the fear that he'll get physically harmed, but, shockingly he didn't get his face punched, not even a slap. Instead, he could hear Castiel laughing.

"Hah, good one. Like I haven't heard that before." Then, Luz appears from the corner with some plates full of food. "Hey, Morningstar. For how long will you keep this lie?" Said Castiel smugly.

Luz freezes in place at the question. "Whatever do you mean?" Then sighs. "Don't tell me you're trying to make him run away, too." He sits beside Dante and starts eating, completely ignoring the mood.

"You know, about how you are-"

Luz casts him a deadly glance, clearly pissed. Castiel suddenly shuts up and looks to the side. "I don't see how that is relevant, it sure doesn't matter to you."

Dante was sweating, the awkward tension made him just want to crawl out of his body. "As long as it doesn't hurt anyone I don't mind... Any kind of secret he may have..." He muttered.

"See? You scared him already. If you keep being this overprotective jealous man then I won't let you sleep with me." Luz was already the same as always, and the tension finally lightened. Even Castiel seemed to be in a better mood, although less talkative.

And so, they eat in peace.

-

After he left Luz's house he couldn't help but feel a little off. What kind of secret could Luz be hiding? He was about to text him, but before he did he saw that someone was calling him.

"Hello?" 

"Dante! Dante! Listen to me, I just got an interview for a backup dancer position!" Nico rambled excitedly. "And you won't believe for who!"

"Oh wow, that's super good, Nico, you'll do great!" He was happy for his friend, being a dancer was a hard job, as it wasn't viewed as something you could go into expecting lots of payment. "Who are you dancing with?"

"Luz Morningstar! I can't fucking believe it!" 

"Wait what? Luz?" They hadn't talked that much since the visit with Castiel, since Luz had to go on some sort of trip to visit his parents. But why did he choose Nico? He hoped it was for his skill and not any kind of connection or favor the singer wanted to repay.

"Yes! We met once when you weren't home, and he liked my dancing so much that he got me a spot on the audition, and guess what! He chose me!" Nico was over the moon, and despite being in a rough patch with Luz, he felt happy for Nico too.

He sighs. “That’s great, Dante. I hope he doesn’t overwork you.”

“Of course not, dude! If anything, it would be an honor!” 

“You’re weird.” He laughs, “Don’t let others step over you, you deserve everything nice.”

“Aww, same to you! Anyway- I gotta go practice my butt off! I gotta be in the best shape for work! See you.”

“See you.”

He looks at his phone as the call ends, debating what to do now. If he texted Luz would he look too obsessive? He shouldn’t get his hopes up, it seemed that the end of this beautiful relationship was soon after all.

With a sour expression, he went to the nearest grocery shop.

-

Even going to work felt like a complete disaster, a bunch of drunk people wasn’t a good combination for a broken heart. He tries to keep his mind off of things, but he has to confront the situation eventually. Castiel was his main issue, it was clear they didn’t like each other and were dating the same man. However, neither of them even had confirmation that they were dating Luz, he simply didn’t like labels like that.

It was fine, it wasn’t fine. He wasn’t sure what to think.

It was around 3 AM when he saw his phone light up, he expected it to be just one of his rhythm games telling him his energy was full, but instead, he saw a message from Luz.

‘Home rn, plz come asap’ the text said. It was a weird text, as Luz didn’t tend to use acronyms or not send a full paragraph for each text.

Then that must mean things had come to an end.

His stomach ties itself up to a knot, the feeling of bile rising upon his throat didn’t make things better. Despite not being the most emotional man, he still felt a little apprehensive to the notion of responding. He was afraid.

Mustering up his courage, he texts back, ‘Sure, see you.”

Dante just hoped things would end peacefully.

-

What he didn’t expect was coming to a complete wreck of his home.

The shelves were thrown off, trinkets and books adorning the floor. But what disturbed him the most was the blood-like substance making a trail in his living room.

“Hello?!” He calls out, being afraid of whatever may still be in his apartment. Looking around, he notices that the bat Castiel had brought a long time ago was still near the entrance, he takes it, praying that he won’t have to use it.

Dante follows the trail of blood, the droplets ending at his closed bedroom door. 

Full of adrenaline, he opens the door. The sight was something he wished he had never seen.

Luz was on the bed, surrounded by the bedsheets. But what was the most noticeable was the blood staining the white sheets. Whimpering, Luz twitches in his place but doesn’t get out of his cocoon.

“Luz?! Luz, what happened?!” Dante drops the bat and immediately goes up to the other man. He takes the covers off of his face and notices a blank stare on him, he doesn’t seem in pain, he doesn’t seem like anything. But after recognizing that it was Dante his mouth twitches to a smile.

“Dante~ Dante~ It’s you. Have I told you you look like an angel? Yes, you are my guardian angel.”

“What are you talking about?! What happened, who did this to you?! Are you hur-”

“Shh, hug me.” He grabbed Dante and pushed him on top of himself. Squeezing tightly at the other man. “It’s all fine.”

“Luz…” Dante tries to get out of the other’s hold, he needs to check the source of the blood. He couldn’t handle the thought that Luz had been hurt, or even worse, about to die. “Let me at least check your wounds… Please.”

“Hmm-? Why do you want to see my body? Oh well, my body is yours, so go ahead~” He lets his arms go limp and just lets Dante do his thing.

Dante took this sign as being allowed to check, so he lifted Luz’s shirt, encountering…

Marks, scars, wounds, wounds that weren’t there before. He had seen Luz without a shirt before, he had a few tattoos but aside from that he had never seen these kinds of scars. Not all of them looked fresh, but he could see that there were some burns, even rope burns, and lots of cuts from a sharp object… This wasn’t just a normal assault, it was torture.

“Luz…” Dante was about to cry, he couldn’t handle seeing the man who made him so happy during this short time so hurt. “Let me see your back, and then we’ll start covering these wounds.” He did his best to even his breathing, Luz didn’t seem in pain, but the scars looked so awful, there was no way they didn’t hurt. 

The back was even worse, he could see that the majority of the scars were healed, but god… They were made from a whip. Dante couldn’t help but let the tears stream down.

Just what kind of suffering had Luz gone through? Since when? These kinds of questions just made him want to protect Luz, to never let him be in pain again. He sobs and sobs. Luz notices the change in mood and immediately goes to hug him.

[toadslug]

New Iterators just dropped 🔥🔥 Only two of them are new, but I haven't introduced the other one yet, so I'll do that here! More under the cut:

This is Whirling Ellipse ("Ellipse" or "WE" for short)! She was my first Iterator OC, so she has a special place in my heart 🥺💖 She's playful, talkative, and very friendly, but her deteriorating systems have caused to act more loopy and spontaneous (than usual). She experiences frequent memory lapses, and her communications are shaky. Oh, and her arms fell off... oops. A grumpy Slugcat named The Salvager (who I should also probably make a post about) occasionally pops in to supply her with new parts.

Onto the new Iterators!! This Idle Speculations ("Specs" or "IE" for short); she's the youngest member of the local group. Her can is situated over a desert region, and she's far away from the other Iterators (even her own local group). She's rude, brisk, always annoyed, and easily frustrated... so! Kind of an asshole. It's always the short people istg 🙄

She pretends to like being alone, but she secretly appreciates company. She also seems to be the only Iterator who has caught onto DWOE's recent suspicious behavior...

This is Two Masquerades ("Masquerades" or "TM" for short)! They're slightly older than Ellipse. They're elegant and kind of keep to themselves (they don't mind the other Iterators; they're just very focused on their work). They're super into fashion and love designing clothing. The Ancients of their city would frequently wear their designs. Now that their Ancients are gone, Masquerades has moved onto designing clothes for the local fauna. Do the creatures appreciate it? Not really. But Masquerades thinks lizards look cute in tiny hats.

I'm going to work on fleshing these guys out some more! Thinking about adding one of two more Iterators to the group, but I have no character ideas right now lol. Feel free to check out my Toyhouse if you want lore updates and stuff. I also made a isolated drawing of DWOE (non-possessed yipeee!!!):

Actually, I don't think I've ever gone into his character here...? So I'll do a little of that right now:

Dulcet Warble of Evening was the senior of his local group. He was calm, thoughtful, and rational; his Ancients and other Iterators frequently went to him for advice or consoling. He always prioritized his duties as an Iterator, but he had a greater love for nature. He liked observing wildlife through his Overseers. He started working on a way to detach from his arm so he could explore the world and discover new species, but he never achieved that :( Now he's possessed LOL 🤣🤣

[skybristle]

19 + 23

since u didn't specify i'll do whoever first comes to mind with the question

19 - Does your iterator know who Sliver of Straw is? If so, what do they think of her?

sparks: i think it's interesting because she's basically the only iterator in bh who's still really commited to the great problem after mass ascension [starlight and ash were pretty diligent too but broke off after the ancients left].

it's mainly out of *needing* something to do to distract herself from the pain and the itchiness in her expanded structure. and she's always been a Very innovative and unique thinker, she is genuinely somehwat famous for pioneering a lot of methods and etc that iterators use while iterating. always coming up with new things, always thinking. and i think thats kind of a manifestation of how desprate she is to be free of her pain and escape. she needs out of this can she needs out of this body and it all hurts and she needs *out*, she needs ascension, she needs to leave all this pain behind. if only there was a perfect string of code to execute to do so. and that's exactly what sliver found.

sparks probably WAS one of the people combing through her remains, desprately, desprately trying to find something. as cycles passed and nobody found anything conclusive and that flare of hope began to die.

i honestly think that hopelessness and that denial of an escape and sparks beginning to realize oh god this might all be for nothing and i might never find a way out is what slowly begins her spiral into wrath and eventual violence in an attempt to make it stop hurting.

oops i just talked about sparks. i love you sliver of straw go make my girl worse

23 - When using overseers, what is your iterator's favorite thing to watch/look at?

chimes: there's a slugcat colony near his can he fucking LOVES watching. just. watching them do their thing. the colony trusts him and doesnt' mind him around so his overseers are even allowed to see The Tiniest Babies and yes chimes exlodes into tears every time. theyre so little. So microscopic and weenie. Single celled ass organisms like those really fucked up baby kittens. he just really appreciates their way of life and in a way his relationship with them reminds him of that with his citizens who he misses dearly and used to spend much of his time observing and helping. his overseers also probably act similar to the tutorial one in that it tries to help slugcats find food, warn them of danger or approaching rain, etc etc. he archives and catalougues a lot of the slugcats and their victories and liniages, just as he once would for the citizens of chorus. the local colony is actually quite developed since they refuse to 'leave chimes behind' [as they believe his immobility is something like a disability]

he also does like scavs though they just don't enter his can so he hasn't gotten as close to them. finds their soceities interesting to observe though....

[ghostlycoze]

i am askng about your rw ocs :eyes:

:eyes back:

you have blessed me by giving me the opportunity to ramble about these little idiots thank you very much >:D

claps hands together

So!

The lore of Ever Changing Fates is a total mess rn but it's very fun to just kind of mess with

I kinda like throwing ideas out there and just bouncing off people and seeing what they come up with lmao

The general deal is:

Fates is a newer generation iterator, probably around the same age as Pebbles. Long after the Ancients vanished, he kind of just went.

"Fuck it. Fuck all of this, I hate all of this. I hate being in a damn cage, look at that weird little cat. It looks happy. Why can't that be me? I wanna be a carefree little creature. >:(" (but in a more lighthearted joking way, as he always is.)

And then immediately proceeded to hatch the most unhinged plan and experimentation process ever.

As a result, his local group......... wasn't impressed. (I will detail more about his group later!)

He did not take the discouragement and lack of support well, and ended up isolating himself to continue his work without their constant messages trying to convince him to stop.

This totally didn't have lasting affects. Totally.

He succeeded, he managed to make alterations like the ear-like antennae casing (used to protect the fragile antennae, as well as used for communication and bonding with the scugs), and the tail (for storage of neurons and whatever else he may need).

Those went well. The removal from his can...... less so. (I do have some rough sketches of it, but I may leave it as a little surprise if I ever get around to writing a comic or little drawings as responses to asks maybe?)

Needless to say, as energetic and bouncy as this little guy is, he has some secrets he's hiding. And he probably needs to rest and take care of himself far more than he would like to admit

Lucky for him, he has his two scugs to take care of him!

They were originally designed as messengers, both with skills based on stealth to allow them to travel back and forth without having to worry about fighting predators much.

The white scug, inspired by white lizards, was created first; though after an injury, Fates created another to help; the black scug.

After seeing how dangerous the path was, he designed the black scug after a mole lizard to help it work best in a new path through the darker regions of his local area, which seemed to be less inhabited. It worked well!

And, after detaching from his can, the two sort of just became guards for him.

(They don't have names yet, but I'm slowly working on it!! Suggestions are totally welcome lol. I'm thinking "Light Refracted, Countless Hues" for the white scug? Not sure for the black scug though)

Aaand not only that, but there is another companion who joins Fates on his adventures!

So this is Silent Observation (a prototype design of them at the moment), an iterator oc my friend actually made!

For some info on them, Silent is an iterator who was not part of Fates' group, but a neighbouring one. Fates stumbled upon their can, and managed to convince them to join him. Silent isn't great at resisting curiosity.

Silent is an interesting little character, who is almost always mute after their vocal systems were damaged by a group of scavengers who tried to take over their can. Silent often uses overseers to communicate simple messages, and can still make little beeps and humming noises, but not much else. They CAN talk, and

sometimes do, though it is quite painful and tends to break and skip over itself. So, they usually let chatty Fates do the talking.

And yes. Gay robots. They're lovers and we've dubbed their little ship name as clairvoyance (yknow, perceiving (observing) the future (fate)? credit to my friend for that great name idea!)

So yeah, after Fates vanished, chaos ensued— is he dead? Is he alive? Is he hurt? Where is he???

And then the sightings began. Clusters of slugcats, rushing by. One always slightly taller than the rest, built slightly differently—with garments, clothing. Purple, in green robes.

It couldn't be...

Yeah, he became a cryptid. The talk of the town, if you will. I'm sure Unparalelled Innocence was LOVING the gossip.

Especially when reports of a second creature joined; antennae, familiar robes, familiar markings.

Imagine someone suddenly sprouts wings, teaches one other person to sprout wings, and then starts flying around in front of you.

Naturally, absolute chaos. It was like Sliver of Straw's death all over again—but instead of it being about death, ascension, it was about the opposite. Life, descension, yet freedom.

Groups were divided; Those who believed it was them, and they had found a way to free themselves. Those who did not believe it was them, but it was something to be concerned about, to investigate. And those who did not believe it was anything of note at all.

(Note: this is set in a sort of AU where they find a way to slow Pebbles' rot, to stabilize Moon to a certain degree, and the group is talking again but still. Not doing the best, panicking and trying to find ways to help the two. Fates' big background-event could be the lightbulb above one of their heads to suggest the idea of tearing Pebbles and Moon from their cans to save them from their own dying bodies. Thanks, Fates lol

This AU doesn't focus on the main group much, more just my OCs. However the idea of them interacting is very fun, and I'm sure Fates' actions reach back to the main group and begin an off-the-string streak or at least have some kind of big effects lmao)

But yeah! That's a not-so-quick rundown of the beginning of this little group's adventures. I'll probably share more and detail how their lives go, how their relationship is and dynamics and certain scenes I've written about them—if I receive more asks maybe I could even try a little interactive thing I've seen others do (though I am. not much of an artist so we'll have to see lol). Regardless, I am so grateful for the excuse to talk about them a bit and I'll probably add some more on the others in Fates' group later on >:)