#and while it's not a wildly obscure game

[tabbyclaw]

Andy said on today’s livestream that there’s going to be another Oxventure Presents series starting soon, and I am getting in my early guess that it’s going to be Kids On Bikes. Less confident guessing who’s gonna GM, but I will tentatively say Andy for reasons of Genre.

[cy-cyborg-draws]

It might just be the hype I've gotten from the seeing the Paralympics getting some actually decent coverage this year, but I've been seriously considering doing a webcomic about wheelchair basketball.

I mentioned I'd considered doing something like it a little while ago on my old tumblr account, but decided not to mostly because I just don't like drawing humans enough to do a comic about them lol. There's no rule though that says sports stories HAVE to be human, and I think there's some interesting things you could do with a story about furries centered on a sport that is designed from the get go to cater to wildly different types of bodies.

So meet Avery, one of the characters in this possible webcomic. I decided if I'm going to do this, it's going to be focused on a lower-level team, since I figured it would be easier to explain the game to readers who are less familiar with the sport that way - and also because I know a too many people on my country's national teams/in the national leagues personally to feel comfortable writing about at a more elite team lol.

I've been wanting to make a red bellied black snake fursona for a while, I just love their colours and their irl personalities (They're surprisingly chill as far as venomous snakes go) and this felt like a good excuse to make one. Also, my mum used to tell me red bellies couldn't bite me because they can only reach your shins unless you do something dumb like pick it up, and since my shins were prosthetic, I didn't have to worry about that. That's terrible advice, but because of that, the idea of making her an amputee was too funny to me to pass up lol.

ID 1: A digital illustration of an anthropomorphic Red Bellied Black Snake with one leg, sitting in a blue basketball wheelchair. The snake character has black scales and a red underbelly that fades to an orange-yellow. She is wearing a red jersey with the number "08" on her chest and wearing black basketball shorts, though they're mostly obscured by the two Velcro straps across her lap, holding her into the wheelchair. She is leaning against the backrest of her chair, looking down and smiling at the viewer. Her wheelchair is blue, tall and has wheels that slant outwards. It is dented and scratched, and is slightly to small for her remaining leg. /End ID 1 ID 2: an illustration of the same character, standing up with a prosthetic leg on. In this image, she is wearing a red necklace with a silver moon pendant, a dark red, loose t-shirt that exposes her belly slightly, a short black skirt and red shoes. Her prosthetic is dark grey, the lower half has a black cover with an image of a snake's skull drawn in gold. /End ID 2

[centaurisolarflare]

König Headcannons

Someone tell me what absolute crack they’re sprinkling these masked Call of Duty men with. I’ve got major König brainrot and this got wildly out of hand, like a five-page word doc out of hand – I had to just stop because it got so long. Might do an NSFW one, lmk if you’d want that. I love you all dearly, enjoy!

- He’s really good at Tetris. Don’t ask me how or why I arrived at this conclusion, I myself have no idea. Dude just likes Tetris. It’s fast paced and demands his attention so he can usually sit still if he’s focused on the game.

- Compulsively chews the skin off his lips and the inside of his cheeks. Can’t help it. Used to bite his nails but that faded throughout his military involvement as he wears gloves pretty much all the time.

- This man has a list of things about you memorized. He covets each piece of information. He knows not only your favorite kind of tea but exactly how you like it prepared. Knows every single favorite you’ve ever mentioned – foods, flowers, books, movies, weather, what songs or types of music you’ll listen to depending on your mood, the colors you like and the colors you think you look best wearing, if you prefer gold or silver jewelry, etc. etc.

         -- Started keeping this list long before he ever actually really spoke to you with things he overheard you say. He was so worried he’d slip up and you’d think he was creepy.

- Fucking loves giving you things. Like I said, he has all your favorites memorized, so it’s easy for him to grab things when he sees them. MFer would give you a rock if it made you happy, he just loves seeing your face light up.

         -- Toward the beginning of you two, when he knew he liked you but was still too anxious and shy to really interact with you, it was so much easier for him to pack all his sentiment and feelings into the things he gave you. He could push them into your hands with maybe a word or two — sometimes literally just saying “here” or “for you”, though often it was without saying anything at all — and hope you got the intended messages of “I thought of you; this suits you; I want you to enjoy this; I care about you”.

         -- He heard you mention some obscure recently published book you wanted to read one time and he immediately began looking for it. When he found it, he bought it with an intensity that scared the bookshop owner; he nearly slammed it on the counter and shoved a handful of money at them, he was just so damn excited to be able to give it to you. And yet, he still carried it around in one of the bigger pockets on his gear for days because he was nervous to actually give it to you in person

         -- Gives you food all the time. Just appears next to you holding out something or another and vanishes before you’re even done saying thank you. You could be stationed anywhere and somehow this man has found? made? acquired? something delicious and he will be giving it to you.

- On that topic, he’s a really good cook. Like legitimately everything he even attempts to make comes out amazing. He loves when you hang out with him in the kitchen while he cooks.

         -- The first time you offered to help he was so startled he nearly dropped a knife. He comes to loves how seamlessly you two work together and move around each other in the kitchen.

         -- He gets to listen to you talk but the tasks at hand give him something to focus on and do, which makes the heat of your attention and his supplying the other half of the conversation easier to bear.

         -- Plays quiet music as he cooks, asks you for songs to put on and loves hearing you sing along as you work

         -- He loves when you hop up on the counter, you look so cute swinging your legs and watching what he’s doing.

         -- Will absolutely do the nonna thing where he swats at your hand if you try to steal something before the dish is ready but he also does the nonna thing where he’ll chop extra veggies so you can eat a few, or he’ll give you a handful of chocolate chips before using the bag. Basically, snacking is fine as long as it’s König approved snacking.

                   ---- One time, when he walked back into the kitchen to see you sneaking bites out of the pot on the stove, he reflexively swatted your backside with the dishtowel he’d had over his shoulder. He turned bright fucking red when you whipped around, shock written all over your face and the wooden spoon still in your hand. Immediately began stumbling over his words trying desperately to explain himself, god he was so fucking stupid and he felt like a chasm was opening up in his chest, until you broke out in a grin and started laughing so hard you got tears in your eyes. He was still mumbling apologies as he went to add spices to the pot, still bright red because you were leaning against his side trying to catch your breath.

         -- Loves sharing the things you make together, loves sitting down and having meals with you

         -- I also think he has a sweet tooth and he’d love it if you liked to bake

         -- While we’re talking about food, I think he really enjoys clementines for some reason. The fruit looks extra small in his hands as he takes the rind off, he’ll always pull it apart and offer you half

- Loves snow. Like kid-rushing-to-the-window loves snow. Stands outside with his head tilted back watching it fall.

- Rarely gets cold, he’s like a walking furnace.

- Trust issues af. Distanced himself from you, especially when he found himself liking you.

- Dude is big. Really big. He’s aware of that. But he never really thought about certain applications of his size; like how your hand fits in his, how your eyes shine when you look up at him, how his fingers fit around your waist/throat/wrists/thighs, how you look wearing his clothes, etc.

- You’re his first kiss and he is nearly shaking out of his own skin when it happened, but he makes up for the nerves and inexperience with hesitant enthusiasm and pure adoration.

- His phone screen is cracked. Badly.

- Good with animals, the type of person to be going about his day with a cat perching itself on his shoulder. Oddly loves waterfowl – birds like ducks and geese and swan.

- Good with kids in a quiet way. He’s a little awkward with them, they’re so unpredictable and don’t really have filters so they’re a little terrifying, but they adore him. He listens and nods as they babble, lets them hang off his arms, and gives as many piggyback rides as he’s asked for.

         -- Would love it if you were good with kids. If you were playful and indulged their imaginations, yet you took them seriously when they had questions and concerns. It’s a bittersweet thing to see you being so attentive and caring because he would have done anything for someone so kind when he was younger.

- Loves when you sit close to him and press your thigh against his, or when you stand and lean against him

- Either cannot make eye contact or stares. If you’re doing something that requires your visual attention but still talking to him, like driving, he’d be staring directly at you the whole time; until you glace at him in the passenger seat and suddenly he’s looking at anything else

         -- When he gets flustered, he tends to look upwards and trys to even out his breathing

- Speaking of driving, he absolutely says “horses” or “cows” when you pass a field of animals. Totally monotone and watches them as you pass by.

- Took him a while to get accustomed to casual touches from you, even longer for more intimate touches, but once he’s comfortable he cannot get enough. Touchstarved.

- Opens every single door for you

- Talks too fast and gets flustered when he trips over his words, which doesn’t help him speak any slower. He has poor volume regulation and either talks either way too quiet – and mumbles when he does – or way too loudly.

- He doesn’t usually stutter but it happens a lot around you. He wants so badly to talk to you but you’re so kind and pretty and his thoughts are going a million miles an hour in about four different directions, and he just ends up so nervous. He tries to say two things at once and stutters through his sentence, he tries to say one thing but abandons it half way through to say something else, repeats certain words, and of course stutters on certain letters.

         -- He’d be so so grateful if you didn’t laugh or mock him. He’s used to people finding ways to get out of talking to him, inventing reasons to cut conversations short, for a whole host of reasons – his accent, how intimidating he looks, the way he talks, the tripping up on words – and he remembers when he was younger and either no one wanted to speak to him or he’d get bullied for speaking at all.

         -- He loves that you’re patient and let him work through his sentences – and he will, because he really does want to talk to you if he could just sort his brain out.

         -- The effort you put into making him comfortable, making him feel at ease talking to you, knocks the air out of his lungs. The attention sometimes makes his anxiety flare up, but he can’t help but love your dedication to talking with him.

- On kind of the same topic, he will make noises or hand gestures to communicate. Sometimes only responds with a “hmm” or “mmhm” but he is paying rapt attention and wants you to keep talking, he just can’t make his own words work right then.  

- If you are outwardly confident, maybe even a little cocky, he eats that shit up. Winking while telling him you’ve got it, grinning after an impressive display of competence.

         -- If you speak up for him or defend him, he’ll lose his mind

- He loves playing with your hands. He’ll do it absentmindedly – rubbing circles on the back of your palm, toying with your fingers, tracing over the ridge of your knuckles – and always blushes when he realizes, no matter how many times you tell him it’s alright.

         -- If he gets more comfortable and in a relationship with you, he’ll lace your fingers together and pull your hand to his mouth so he can kiss the back of it.

         -- Also, if you put your hand on his face and hold his cheek he’ll grab your wrist – fingers wrapping all the way around it and then some – press your hand more firmly against his face, and turn his head to kiss your palm.

- Never feels like he’s allowed to touch you and will kind of linger around you until you initiate something or ask him what he needs (embarrassed as hell when you make him tell you exactly what he needs in a more NSFW context, but he loves it). Will always always always ask before touching you if he’s the one initiating. Once you do give him permission, he’s on you like a shot.

         -- Clingy as fuck. Always wants to be near you. If he can’t be next to you he’ll keep his eyes on you, you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ll look at him to find he’s already watching you.

         -- Uses his strength to his advantage when he wraps his arms around you and won’t let you get out of bed in the morning.

         -- Loves when you hug him so tight he thinks maybe you’ll crack his ribs, it feels so safe and he’ll rest his head on top of yours. I also think he’d be the type to hug so than his arms are under yours; yes, he knows it makes the whole thing less convenient because he has to lean down more, but he wants to be able to draw you in against his chest as securely as he can.

- He has stretchmarks on his arms/back/thighs from growing so much so fast. He’s really self-conscious about them.

         -- I also think as a result of growing so fast there was a period of time when he was young where he’d faint in the mornings. There’s a type of syncope that can occur during the years growth spurts happen, especially when a child grows a lot, caused by a lack of blood (oxygen) to the brain; it’ll happen especially after getting up from sleep, due to slow blood circulation, and in the shower, due to the warm temperature and humidity. He’d just space out, get black spots or narrowing vison, and pass out. Wake up quickly, maybe with a little vertigo, and be fine.

- Remembers and treasures every single complement and nice thing you’ve said to or about him. Complements and praise make him a mess.

- Can weave flower crowns.

- If you wear makeup, he loves watching you put it on. Maybe one day you’ll doll him up with it and tell him how pretty he is.

- Not fond of needles, doesn’t have any tattoos or piercings.

- Not super comfortable with PDA.

- In private, he loves kissing your forehead and the top of your head. When he’s more comfortable with you he’ll stoop over to kiss to the back of your neck, gently brushing your hair out of the way to press his lips right above the last knob of your spine.

         -- Loves kissing you when he’s sitting down and you’re straddling his lap, his thighs splayed out and you raised up on your knees to accommodate for his height, one hand on your waist and one up grasping at the back of your neck, and you kiss him filthy and tell him how good he is. He’s inexperienced so he gets overwhelmed quickly, resting his forehead on your shoulder and panting while he tries to focus on anything other than how badly he wants to pull your hips down and rut against you. He’s definitely cummed in his pants befo- *I am forcibly removed from the stage*

- Babyboy gets flustered and embarrassed so easily, has a blush than spreads down to his chest.

- Loves having inside jokes with you. Loves the side glances you shoot him, your suppressed smile, the little nudge you give him with your shoulder or elbow

         -- Loves that you two talk enough to have these jokes and references, and that you remember them. It reassures him that you enjoy talking to him.

         -- He especially, maybe selfishly, loves when someone asks about the glances and the snickering and you tell them that it’s an inside joke, that you refuse to offer any further explanation, that you want these little jokes to be yours and his alone.

- Loves when you play with his hair, lets out very contented hums when you scratch your nails over his scalp.

- Gives you massages. He’s really good at it, big hands, okay, and he’s so warm. Especially likes relieving your shoulders, back, and hands but will give diligent attention to any of your sore muscles.

- Doesn’t wear any jewelry but is absolutely the type to wear a little woven threads or beaded bracelet forever just because you gave it to him

- Because of how tall he is, he’s used to being cramped up when he sleeps so he sort of always curls up as much as he can when he sleeps, even if he has room to stretch out.

         -- If you’re near him while he’s asleep there’s a good chance he’ll wrap himself around you.

- He has so many little fun facts on an absurdly large number of topics and could ramble for hours about the subjects that particularly interest him.

         -- If you mention something you’re interested in he will do extensive research to learn about it. He wants to show you he cares and he also wants to be informed so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot in front of you.

- Loves teaching you things, he feels more sure of himself when he’s instructing you through something he’s knowledge about.

         -- Loves being taught as well, he’s very good at following directions and always wants to impress you.

- Never forgets birthdays, anniversaries, or any other important dates. This man will remember your pets birthdays. 

[chickenlizard13]

Insatiable Thing

Pairing: Garreth Weasley x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 5529

Warnings: Fluff, Mature 18+ (definitely no kiddos)

Description: I'm having a great time. Sequel to Home to Me. Takes place in their 7th year.

Merlin, he looked good with his sleeves rolled up. 

You stood obscured by a large pillar, eyes raking up and down Garreth’s form as he faced away from you, chatting with a group of other students. He’d discarded his robes, leaving him in a fitted gray vest and black pants. Loosening his house tie, he’d also undone the first couple of buttons, displaying his freckled throat as he threw his head back, laughing attractively. 

You’d been playing a game of cat and mouse all day. Sending him teasing looks in class, disappearing when the Bell Tower rang, ghosting a hand over his back as you passed behind him in the hall, never letting him catch you. Which he tried, several times. His hand would shoot out in the direction of your touch, fingers just missing your wrist as you danced out of the way. It’d gotten to the point where he’d drop whatever conversation he was having and stalk after you, a primal look in his eyes, tracking you as you wove between the other students in escape. 

Unfortunately for Garreth, you were very good at hiding, vanishing around a corner and watching him growl in frustration at losing you again. However, Garreth could also be very clever when he wanted, so he’d taken measures to make himself more appealing to try and tempt you closer. Hence the rolled sleeves and unbuttoned collar, doing his best to seem unbothered by your antics. He knew you liked him in a more casual state of dress, and also knew his laid back attitude would infuriate you, causing you to get sloppy.��

A note floated lazily towards the group, circling around Garreth’s head once before he caught it in his hand. Nodding along with his friends, he opens the note, fingers tightening on the paper slightly, before folding it back up and nonchalantly placing it in his pocket. 

The conversation continues, Garreth seemingly unaffected by your note. You knew what he was doing. You knew what he was doing, and yet, it irked you to no end that he didn’t even flinch. You wanted to watch the wild desperation in his eyes as he searched the halls for you, see him slowly lose his sanity with each passing moment he didn’t have you. 

It was risky, but you were unable to resist the temptation as you thought of that frustrated look on his face, slinking out of your hiding spot to get closer. Even though he seemed relaxed, you knew he was on high alert and you’d have to make a hasty getaway before he caught you. 

Breezing up behind him, your hand caresses the nape of his neck, red curls tickling your fingers as you make your escape. Just as you turn to flee, a hand clamps onto your wrist, capturing you. Turning back, you see a triumphant fire blazing in Garreth’s gaze, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. 

“Hey sweetheart, there you are. I’ve been looking for you all day.” 

His tone is cheery, as if he were truly just greeting you after a day apart, but you could hear the danger behind it. A shiver raced down your spine, suddenly nervous that you may have pushed him a bit too far with your game. Hauling your front against his side, he tucked you under his arm, securing you to him. He leans down, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek before whispering in your ear. “Caught you.” 

Pulling back, he smiles down at you pleasantly, turning back to finish his conversation while his fingers rub soothing circles into your shoulder. However, you were feeling anything but soothed, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, dreading the end of this conversation when you didn’t have the safety of other people. 

Garreth began saying his goodbyes, waving to the others as they headed to their next destination. He turns to you smiling sweetly again, removing his arm and interlacing your fingers together, kissing the back of your hand while leading you down the hall. He kept a casual pace, smiling at the people you passed, seemingly unhurried. You had no idea where you were going, Garreth refusing to tell you, only leaning down to whisper huskily in your ear. “You are in so much fucking trouble.”

Anticipation lit your blood on fire, your eyes nervous as you looked at him. He kissed your forehead as you walked, eventually stopping in front of an empty storage room. Opening the door, he gestures for you to go in first, pleasant smile still painted on his mouth, but his eyes tell you a different story. They dared you to run, promising grave consequences if you made him chase you. Gazing at him a moment, you consider bolting away, but know that in an all out sprint, he’d definitely catch you. 

Obediently, you walk into the closet, Garreth whispering ‘Good choice.’ as he follows quickly after you. Walking to the center of the room, you don’t turn around as you hear the door shut, or when you hear Garreth whisper a locking and silencing charm. When he’s finished, he walks up behind you, slotting himself against your back as he brings his lips to your ear. “You’ve been particularly cruel today, sweetheart.”

His breath tickles your skin as he runs his nose lightly along your neck, hands gently resting on your hips. “Not sure what I’ve done to receive such harsh treatment from you. As far as I know, I’ve been nothing but kind and loving. Doting, even.” 

Placing light kisses on your shoulder, he works his way back up to speak directly in your ear, another shiver running down your spine, helpless in his grasp. “And yet, you’ve left me like this-” Hands tugging you back, he grinds his cock into your ass, making sure you feel how hard he is. “-all day. Seems a little mean doesn’t it?” 

He traces one hand up your side, fingers coming to turn your head and tilt your chin up, giving you a chaste kiss before pulling back to look at you with hooded eyes. “It’s a really good thing you’re done with classes for the day. Don’t think you’d have enough time to hide all the marks I’m gonna put on your pretty neck, otherwise.” 

Beads of sweat broke out on your forehead, stomach flipping in excitement. You’d definitely pushed him too far, but you were eager to find out where this was going, unable to promise that you wouldn’t do it again in the future.

—-------

Hours. Hours later, the two of you finally exited the storage closet, Garreth carrying you gently. Your head lay on his shoulder, face tucked against his neck as you pouted into his skin. His hands supported your thighs, legs on either side of his hips, cradling your exhausted body as he walked back to the Gryffindor common room. You could practically feel the smug smile on his face. You huff in annoyance, drawing an amused chuckle from his chest. “I know, sweetheart. I was too much. I’m sorry.”

He most definitely was not sorry, if his pleased tone was anything to go by. “I can’t walk.” 

Humming, he kissed your temple lovingly, pride slipping into his voice. “I know.”

You don’t have the energy to be irritated, your exhausted body sinking further into his chest. He carries you all the way to his dorm, tucking you under the covers before climbing into bed after you. Garreth’s roommates don’t even bat an eye at your presence, very used to your frequent sleepovers, all of them assuming you’d fallen asleep studying again. 

Garreths crawls in behind you, drawing the curtains before settling down and wrapping one arm around your middle, worming the other under your head. He kisses your shoulder a few times, whispering an ‘I love you’ and tucking his face into your hair. You barely manage to give a tired ‘love you’ back before you’re fast asleep, comfortable and warm in the redhead’s arms. 

—-------

Days later, you’re walking past the potions classroom after visiting Sebastian and Ominis, when you spot Garreth working diligently inside. His back was to you, chopping ingredients for whatever brew bubbled in his cauldron. You admired him for a moment, smiling softly at the dedication and passion he put towards his craft. Strolling inside, you move to stand beside him, leaning your head on his arm silently. He immediately brings that arm around you in a half hug, kissing your forehead as he rests his hand just above your rear. “Hi.”

You smile up at him. “Hi.” 

“What brings you to my side of the castle today?” 

Rolling your eyes, you resist the urge to remind him that you’d had potions together not an hour ago and wrap your arms around his torso. “I just came from seeing Ominis and Sebastian.”

Garreth grunted at the mention of Sebastian, still not caring for the brunette after the events in your fifth year, but tolerating it for your sake. “Well good. I was just starting to miss your pretty face.” 

You laugh, earning a playful smile in return. “I don’t think I’ve been gone long enough for you to miss me.”

Still smiling, Garreth leans down, humming as he kisses your lips. “That’s what you think.” 

Heart fluttering, you kiss him once more, pulling away and leaning your head on his chest. “What’re you making, my love?” 

“Nothing exciting, just a few extra Wiggenweld potions.”

You quirk your eyebrow at him quizzically, waiting for an explanation. His smile turns into a smug smirk, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I just thought it’d be good to have some extra ones on hand, after the other day. Might have helped with your walking problem.” 

Clicking your tongue at him, you smack his chest lightly. “You were my walking problem.” 

He chuckles in amusement, giving you another lingering kiss. “I sure was.” 

Rolling your eyes again, you decide you’d had enough of his gloating and make to leave. “Well, my love, I’ll leave you and your enlarged ego in peace.” 

As you go to walk away, Garreth gently wraps a hand around your bicep, tugging you back to steal one last kiss. He pulls back just enough to speak, lips still brushing yours with a teasing smile. “My ego isn’t the only thing that’s enlarged.” 

Scoffing at him, you turn away, huffing as you leave. Garreth laughs at your irritation, and you feel a playful smack on your behind, turning to glare at him as he looks back at you innocently. His face relaxes as you turn back towards the door, watching you fondly as you walk away, already missing your presence beside him.

————-

You awoke to the gentle press of lips being scattered all over your face. Garreths long fingers scratching at your scalp lightly, attempting to rouse you from sleep. Squinting at the early morning light, you groan and hide your face in his neck, halting his soft barrage. He laughed, squeezing you tight against his chest. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” 

Humming in acknowledgement, you close your eyes again, content to let sleep whisk you away once more. Garreth chuckles again, a hand running up and down your back. “Do you plan to sleep the day away? I’d very much like to take you on a date at some point.” 

Whining, you try to shove yourself further into his neck, wrapping an arm around his middle so he can’t pry you off. “‘S the weekend. Lemme sleeeeeep.” 

Closing his eyes, a content smile rests on his face, fingers continuing to scratch your head. “But I haven’t seen you in so long. What if I get lonely?”

“My love, we went to bed eight hours ago.”

“Yeah, and that’s a whole eight hours of my life without your pretty face.” 

Knowing you weren’t going to win this one, you sigh heavily in defeat. You retract your face from his neck, squinting as you glare up at him. “You’re impossible. You’ve seen me every day for the past two years, and you couldn’t give me two more hours?”

Garreth smiles at your disgruntled face lovingly, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. “What can I say? No amount of time will ever be enough for me. I want it all.”

Huffing against his mouth, you let him do as he pleases, resigning yourself to being awake at this ridiculous hour. “Greedy.”

“For you? Immensely.” 

You roll your eyes fondly, whispering ‘dork’ under your breath, the word getting swallowed by Garreths lips. He gives you a few more lazy kisses, before shifting to lay partially on top of you, head resting on your chest. His arms worm their way underneath you, holding you close, as you card a hand through his hair, the other wrapping around his back. 

“So, what did you have planned for this date?”

Garreth sighs contentedly as he adjusts himself slightly, eyes closed as he speaks. “Well, I figured we could take a trip to Hogsmead, do a little shopping, maybe stop by The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, things of the like.” 

“What? No troll this year?”

Garreth laughs, thinking back to your last anniversary, where he’d tried to take you on a romantic picnic near a glen in the Forbidden Forest, only for a troll to come barging in half way through. 

“Not this year, sweetheart, but I’m sure we could find one if you’re really itching for a fight.” 

Shaking your head with an exasperated smile, you tell him that Hogsmead sounds great, excited to simply spend the day with him. The two of you continue laying there for another hour, talking quietly, lost in your own little world and ignoring everything going on outside Garreth’s bed curtains. 

—-------

Eventually, you do actually roll out of bed, putting on some heavier clothes for the walk to Hogsmeade. You take it slow, walking hand-in-hand as a light flurry of snow blankets the ground around you. By the time you get there, your noses are cold and your cheeks are flushed, but your smiles are warm as you head into the first shop. 

The two of you flit around Hogsmeade, popping in and out of various shops, stopping at Honeydukes for a treat, and even taking a stroll in the garden, greeting the hedge dragon as it shakes off the accumulated snow. 

As the sun gets lower in the sky, you meander your way to The Three Broomsticks, lightly arguing about Garreth’s spending habits. “My love, you don’t have to pay for everything all the time. I am certainly not hurting for galleons.” 

He scoffs at you. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I couldn’t treat the love of my life to a day on the town?”

You roll your eyes in exasperation. “You say that every time we go out.”

“Alright, fine. You can get the next one.” 

Approaching The Three Broomsticks, he grabs the door handle, opening it for you as you both step inside. There’s a knowing twinkle in his eye, and your voice is flat as you give him an unimpressed stare. “You also say that everytime, you liar.” 

He laughs heartily as he guides you to a table by the fireplace, leaving you briefly to head to the restroom, shouting at Sirona to not take a galleon from you no matter what. She shakes her head in amusement, making eye contact with you as you roll your eyes at her. You stay put, knowing Garreth would be pouty if he came back to find that you’d gone and purchased the butterbeers anyway. You busied yourself with looking at the paintings on the walls, enjoying the pleasant warmth of the fire as you waited for him. 

Suddenly, a tall presence appears beside you, and you turn towards it, assuming it’s Garreth. “Took you long enough. I thought I’d have to-”

Your teasing words die out as you realize the figure beside you is decidedly not Garreth. The unknown man gives you a flirty smile, eyebrows raising slightly at your words. “Oh? You were just waiting for me to come over here, weren’t you? Looks like your wish came true.”

Recoiling from him, you glance around to see if Garreth was on his way back, failing to spot him anywhere. “Oh, I’m sorry, um, I actually thought you were my-”

“What? Boyfriend? Come on now darlin’, no need to be embarrassed.” The man reached out and rested his hand dangerously high up on your thigh. “I’d be happy to take a pretty little thing like you home with m-”

His words are cut off by a large freckled hand clamping down on his shoulder, the fingers squeezing in warning. You look up to see Garreth standing behind him, a friendly smile plastered on his face, his eyes glued to the hand on your leg. “Hey there, friend. If you’d like to keep that hand intact, I suggest you remove it from my spouse’s thigh.” 

Your heart flutters at being referred to as Garreth’s spouse, eyes softening at him despite the tense situation. The stranger sneers, turning to look over his shoulder confrontationally, but freezes at the feral look in your boyfriend’s eyes. The friendly smile still stretches across his mouth, but fades a bit as the man stands there paralyzed, hand still firmly in place. 

“I won’t ask again.”

The man’s eyes widened at Garreth’s low, dangerous tone, all pleasantries gone from his cadence. The hand is torn from your thigh as the stranger scrambles to get away, spewing apologies as he hastily leaves the tavern. Garreth’s eyes track him the entire time, only turning back to you after the doors swing shut. He leans down, planting a possessive kiss on your lips as he places his hand on your thigh, exactly where the man’s had been. “You ok, sweetheart?” 

Nodding, you let him kiss you again. “Fine, my love, thank you.”

He hums in acknowledgement, hand stroking your leg idly. “Good. I hope it didn’t ruin the mood for you. Still want that drink?” 

You nod again, and Garreth turns to, very loudly and obviously, shout at Sirona again. “Sirona! A butterbeer for my lovely spouse, if you’d be so kind.”

She shakes her head again, having witnessed Garreth chase the unknown man out, amused at the warning aimed at the other patrons. Garreth hears you giggle at him, turning back to you with a half-smile and a cocked eyebrow. 

“We’re not married, my love.” 

He scoffs playfully at you, grabbing your left hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing your ring finger. “Not at the moment, but if you think for one second we’re not getting married, we might need to take a trip to St. Mungos to get your head checked.” 

Your heart swoons. Garreth sends you a wink before walking to the bar for your drinks, eyes narrowed as he glares at the other patrons, daring them to try something. You watch him go, gaze lingering on those broad shoulders, almost drooling as he leans his forearms on the counter to chat with Sirona a moment. You feel a bit hot under the collar, thinking about how territorial he’d been only moments before, and itch to get him alone, growing slightly impatient with the wait. 

—-------

You’d wandered back to the castle sometime after dark, heading straight to the Room of Requirement for a late dinner, courtesy of Deek. Thanking the kind elf, you told him to take the night off, promising at his insistence, that you’d call for him if needed. You weren’t exactly sure what house elves did in their spare time, but Deek seemed excited as he bid you both goodnight. 

Blankets and pillows had been piled in front of the fire, dinner and drinks already laid out and waiting for your return. Music played softly from a record player in the corner, the two of you dancing to it slowly once you’d eaten. 

Laying your head on Garreth’s chest, you release a content sigh, swaying back and forth as you listen to him hum to the music quietly. Eventually, you end up back on the floor, cuddled up in front of the crackling fire. Garreth lay behind you, arms pulling you tight against him, so that no space remained. You unconsciously drew lazy hearts on his hand with your finger, bringing a small smile to his face. 

“I was serious, you know.” 

Your fingers continue their idle tracing, even as you give him your full attention. “About what, my love?” 

His arms tighten slightly, trying to pull you closer. “Marrying you.” 

Laughing lightly, a teasing smile appears on your lips. “I certainly hope so, otherwise, the wedding invitations I’ve already sent out would be incredibly embarrassing.” 

He chuckles at you, propping himself up on an elbow and bringing his knuckles to caress your cheek as you look up at him. A soft smile rests on his face, eyes hooded as he gazes at you, memorizing your features for a moment before speaking. 

“You make me so happy.” 

His words are whispered, private, but he might as well have screamed them with how loudly they echoed in your ears. Your eyes instantly tear up as you look at him, his face filled with so much love and devotion it becomes hard to breathe. He notices your teary eyes and uses his fingers to catch each drop, shushing you with quiet apologies, brows furrowed. “Hey, hey, hey I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Garreth leans down, kissing your tears away, thumb rubbing your jaw with soothing strokes. Your hand comes up and grabs his wrist tenderly, halting his delicate kisses as he gazes back at you. Your eyes dart around his face a moment, taking in every lovely detail before parting your mouth, words watery as they escape your lips. 

“I can’t wait to marry you.” 

Garreth sucks in a sharp breath, wasting no time in planting his lips passionately on yours. He kisses you deliberately, pouring all his love into the slow slide of his mouth, making sure you feel how much he needs you. 

Loving kisses quickly turn hungry, Garreth climbing over you to slot himself between your legs, lips never parting from you. Both of your hands find his hair, fingers tightening at the slow roll of his hips, pulling a groan from his chest. He drags his hardening cock along your center purposefully, as he licks into your mouth, grazing your bottom lip sensually with his teeth. Whimpering, your hips roll to meet him, the slow delicious grind making your head dizzy. 

Capturing your wrists, he pins them above your head with one hand, while the other starts a slow exploration across your skin. His fingers expertly undo each button of your blouse, achingly slow, teasing your flesh with the slight brush of his fingers as he pops each one. Your hands strain against him as you gasp desperately into his mouth, silently begging him to go faster, but he continues his maddening pace despite it all. 

Garreth doesn’t unbutton your top fully, stopping when there’s just enough room to pull the pieces apart and expose your chest. He says nothing as he moves to forge a blazing trail down your neck, kissing and licking his way to a sensitive nipple, giving it a languid swipe with his tongue. You curse quietly, back arching off the floor towards his scorching mouth, wanting him to give you more. 

He pays equal attention to both nipples, sucking at them intermittently, spurred on by the constant choruses of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ spilling mindlessly from your lips. Pulling away slightly, his mouth hovers over your chest as he looks up at you, green eyes devouring your needy expression.

“What’re you asking for, sweetheart?”

You can feel his breath ghosting over your nipple, still wet from his saliva, and it rips a quiet wail from your throat. “Anything! Anything you want.”

Garreth pauses a moment, gazing at you in wicked consideration. “Anything I want?” 

Your hips roll desperately on their own at the animalistic tone in his voice, chest heaving as you throw your head back on the floor, nodding wildly. Garreth crawls his way up to you, eyes focused, muscles flexing as he leans down to purr directly in your ear. 

“I want to taste you.” 

A kiss lands on your jaw.

“Can I do that?”

Sobbing, your hips rut against him. “Fuck yes.”

He hums in approval, releasing your wrists as he makes his slow journey south, savoring every inch of skin he can get his mouth on. Hands free, your fingers grip the blankets underneath you tightly, needing something to ground you. Your bottoms are removed from you with ease, leaving you in only your half buttoned top, the fabric grazing your overly sensitive skin. 

Garreth settles himself between your legs, eyes drinking you in, a soft moan escaping him at the sight of you. “So fucking pretty.”

Teeth scrape the inside of your thigh as he nips at you, placing an apologetic kiss over the small hurt. He looks absolutely sinful between your legs, his lips kissing the skin reverently, but never placing them where you needed. 

“You know-” The maddening press of his mouth continues even as he speaks. “-that note you sent me the other day has been on my mind.” 

Another nip, followed by a soothing kiss. “You really shouldn’t send me things like that in public, sweetheart.” 

His tongue comes out to lick a long stripe, so, so close to where you needed it. “Telling me how much you like my shoulders, how pretty your legs would look over them…do you know what that did to me?” 

Fingers clamped down on your hips to prevent you from moving, as Garreth gets a predatory look in his eye, his teeth sinking in a bit deeper. “After enduring your relentless teasing, watching you run away from me all day? Do you know how hard it was to maintain a conversation, when all I wanted to do, was tear your clothes off and devour you in the middle of the fucking hall?” 

Frustrated tears gathered in your eyes, watching the wicked pleasure Garreth got from leaving you hanging, pleading for any scrap he would give you. He hovered right over your most sensitive spot, staring at your desperate face. 

“How could you be so cruel to me?”

His breath ghosted over you gently, but it sent you bucking wildly against his hands, wailing loudly enough the whole school could probably hear you. “My love, please!” 

“…Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Garreth finally put his mouth on you, tongue laving at you as an appreciative groan tore out of his chest. Throwing your head back, you practically scream his name as he sucks on you. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping it tightly, unsure if they wanted to push him away or pull him closer. Not that you had much choice, now that Garreth had his mouth on you, it would be a hard fight to get him off, the redhead moaning almost as much as you. 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he devoured you, a string of praises flowing out of his mouth whenever he came up for air. “You taste so fucking good. Merlin, I needed this.” 

You were so close, and he knew you were so close, growling as he egged you on, demanding you cum. “I know it’s in there. I can feel it. It’s mine. Give it to me.” 

Suddenly, you felt him shove two fingers inside you, and you completely fell apart. Your orgasm rocked through you, cumming so hard it almost hurt. You could only sob his name, body shaking violently as he worked you through it, fingers barely moving with how tight you were squeezing him. 

It felt like hours until you started to come down, Garreth’s tongue lapping at you lazily as his fingers continue to pump in and out slowly. You try to push his head away from your sensitive center, but he refuses to budge, looking up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “Oh, you thought we were done? Sorry, sweetheart, I haven’t had my fill of you yet.” 

He puts his mouth back on you, ignoring your cries of oversensitivity. You try to wiggle away from him, but he pulls you back, laying an arm across your hips to hold you down. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Don’t you dare try to run from me.” 

Garreth’s pace is punishing, driving you to the edge as quickly as possible. You had tears running down your face from the overstimulation, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, that’s why you’d purposefully drive him out of his mind. Of course he knew, he knew you loved this. Knew you wanted him to make you cum over, and over, and over again. Knew you’d never be satisfied with just one orgasm, so he kept going, ignoring your showy attempts at stopping him. 

Your hands pushed his head as close to you as they could, chanting his name until your voice was raw, his unrelenting ministrations pushing you over the edge once more. Mind whiting out, your chest heaved with sobs, Garreth removing himself from you once you’d come down. 

Crawling up your body, he places gentle kisses into your skin, running his hands over you soothingly. Quiet praises were spoken into your skin, your body relaxing and becoming pliant under his touch. “So good. You did so good for me. I love you so much.” 

Garreth settles himself on top of you, letting his weight ground you as he brings you back to earth. You can feel his aching cock resting between your legs, neglected, and you muster just enough energy to rock your hips against him, earning a hiss in return. 

He lets you rock against him, chuckling breathlessly into your hair. “You sure, sweetheart? Got one more in there for me?” 

Too tired to form actual words at the moment, you simply nod at him, moaning slightly as he begins to grind back. Pushing himself up, he doesn’t even bother undressing, only pulling his trousers down enough to free his flushed cock. Impatient to be inside you. Lining himself up, he pushes in slowly, panting heavily at the feel of you. He runs his hands up and down your thighs comfortingly, stilling once he’s fully seated. “You ok, my love? Need a second?” 

Shaking your head, you wiggle your hips as best you can, wanting him to feel as good as he makes you feel. He laughs breathlessly, petting your hips as he starts grinding into you. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything. I know you’re tired. Just relax and let me take care of you, ok?” 

He fucks you languidly, savoring the drag of his cock as he moves, content to prolong his pleasure as long as you’ll let him. You can see the adoration in his eyes as he looks down at you, proud to have made you an absolute wreck. Desire starts to build back up in your chest, a familiar ache in your core causing you to moan louder, muscles tensing in anticipation. 

“Yeah, my love? What do you need? Need me to go faster?”

You can do little more than nod at him, whining needily as his hips begin to snap forward, eager to give you what you wanted. He fell forward onto his elbows, the new angle driving his cock deeper, pushing right up against that spot inside you. Your fingers clawed at his back, spurring him on, desperate for you to finish on him. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Give me one more.” 

Garreth tucked his face into your neck, wrapping both his arms under your lower back, helping angle you just a bit more. It had you seeing stars, and the grinding of his cock combined with his breathless pleas in your ear had you tumbling over the edge for the third time that night. Garreth swore loudly and snapped his hips forward a few more times before spilling inside of you, twitching as you convulsed around him. 

You both lay there in a daze, remaining connected, just enjoying the afterglow. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his temple repeatedly as you professed your love. 

Laying boneless on top of you, you wondered if he’d fallen asleep, his breathing slow and even. That is, until he lifts his head just enough to kiss you gently. He rubs his nose against yours delicately, taking you in as you lay together.

 “How are you feeling, my love? Everything ok? All done?” 

Pausing, you take stock of your body, waiting a moment before answering. “Mmmmm…I think I’d like one more.”

Huffing in amusement, Garreth kisses you again, just feeling you against him, unhurried. “I knew it. Insatiable thing.”

He kissed you a few more times, before pulling away to whisper mischievously against your lips, a delighted smile gracing his handsome face. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Sunday is not a Christian

Note: This post is being written prior to the release of Patch 2.7 and does not address any changes to Sunday's characterization from 2.7 onward.

Spoilers for Honkai: Star Rail "Penacony" arc below the cut

Especially since his drip marketing came out, I've seen a lot of people saying that Sunday is a Christian, "Sunday made me Christian," Christians complaining that Christianity is being vilified because Sunday is the antagonist of the Penacony arc, etc etc. I honestly don't understand how people can so radically misunderstand a character but let me provide some key quotes here to clarify the situation:

"It seems you have misunderstood my intentions. Allow me to clarify — My desire is not to resurrect a fallen Aeon or become one myself… My sole objective is to create a paradise free from Aeons, where the Order ensures the dignity and happiness of all humanity. A paradise exclusive to us human beings."

"The time has come. Creation will be reborn from the remains of the gods…"

"It was not you who created all things. It was humanity that created you! …Your divine being will become the foundation of our paradise!"

Sunday literally wants to usurp God's power to create heaven on earth for humanity. This is the literal opposite of Christianity. There is no version of Christianity in which this is not wildly heretical and blasphemous.

I understand that he has a halo and angel wings. I understand that he is (or at least was) a priest. I understand he has crosses on his gloves. I understand that he is absolutely drenched in Christian aesthetic and even sometimes phrases things in Christian, or at least religious, terms.

But if you listen to the actual words that he's saying, there is just absolutely no way to interpret him as a Christian.

Sunday is a complex character, and I think a lot of that complexity is being lost on people who want to flatten him into something more simple. Sunday is someone who had, and in a way still has, religious devotion. To the extent that Christianity exists in Star Rail in the form of the Harmony and the Order, it is true that Sunday's experiences and thinking have been shaped by Christianity. His profound empathy and compassion clearly originate in part from his religious experiences, including receiving confessions from his congregation. But he ultimately comes to realize that Aeons, the game's version of gods, cannot be depended upon to save humanity. While he maintains faith in his own values and dreams, which were influenced by his religion, he is no longer devoted to the religion itself or its gods.

Sunday is not a Christian but could perhaps be viewed as an ex-Christian who has become sort of a dystheist/misotheist/antitheist/atheist. Because the way that gods work is a little different in Star Rail compared to the real world, and because his perspective is complex, it's difficult to affix a particular label to him, but that's sort of the general ballpark. To really explain Sunday's philosophy and spirituality would require delving into some obscure concepts that I don't want to get into here (I would consider him sort of a spiritual anarchist, though I don't expect anyone other than me to know what that means), but I hope that this at least clarifies things a little.

[thedawningofthehour]

Since now i only can dream about these things and following our theoric Draxum-is-smart AU, i wanna know, how is game night?

Like, board games or Super Bowl? Because I feel like Draxum would pretend to be above sports while secretly

(I've mentioned this before but in a 'Drax raises the turtles' au where he sends them to school and allows them to participate in sports he'd be the WORST sidelines dad, always cheering super obnoxiously and arguing with the ref whenever Raph gets penaltied for like, breaking the ball or something)

In all seriousness, I feel like American football would become a guilty pleasure of his. He knows it's a fucking death match but he's drawn to it anyway. He and Raph probably bond over it. Same with hockey. (he goes to all of Cass's games until he's banned for fistfighting the ref, because Cass is extremely violent even for hockey and constantly gets put in the penalty box)(Casey Junior joins a hockey league and is a hundred times worse because he's used to combat not recreational sports) With Mikey he'd watch gymnastics or figure skating with. I also want to say he and Splinter would both like some obscure sport like cricket (I know cricket is really big in other countries but it's absolutely not here) and would end up very begrudgingly watching it together.

For board games-for one, it would be a WHILE before he was invited to that. The fam wouldn't trust him for shit, and Donnie would view him more as a colleague than a family member. (which changes as they become closer, but I imagine it would be Draxum to actually initiate his fatherhood role) And Splinter would probably ban him from the lair unless he's there to work with Donnie.

But after they begin to warm up to him, I feel like he'd be so out of his element. Any group game just devolves into yelling and chaos and he just does not know what to do with himself. And it makes him feel angry and jealous because Splinter is just playing along and laughing because he's used to it, and Draxum isn't.

Any strategy game, he'd get competitive. Risk gets intense. He becomes enraged by Monopoly. If they play in pairs or groups he becomes 100% worse. He basically becomes Princess Azula in the beach episode.

With something like chess or other abstract strategy games, it would wildly depend on who he was playing with. Raph and Mikey he'd be pretty chill with, going easy on them and trying to teach them how to strategize better. Donnie, he's delighted to have a real challenge, and he's so proud of how smart he is.

He needs to crush Leo like a bug. His smug grin whenever he wins infuriates him. How the fuck is he so good at this.

[saintship]

Breathe

König x GN!reader

Request: @aixxka

Was thinking about a KorTac mission where König gets hurt and reader (was studying medicine before joining spec ops) takes care of him on a field. And he's unsure of what to do bc he never received such treatment, especially in a middle of a mission with bullets flying through. You can change whatever you want, but I hope you like this idea! Good luck and thanks if you write it!. half broken English, sorry)))

Warnings: gunfire, near death experience, blood and wounds, swearing, hurt/comfort, kissy kissy

Only thing I changed was making it an ambush of sorts rather than a mission, I’d like to finish this game so I can be as accurate as possible before writing detailed missions

Enjoy!

It was quiet on the hangar, the assortment of soldiers who were supposed to be repackaging gear and weaponry largely messing with each other and fucking off. The sun was low in the sky, casting vibrant pinks and reds streaking across the clouds and wide sky above them.

“Hey Ghost.”

Soap fiddled with a scope of a Locus, a shit-eating grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Do I know you?” Ghost huffed, clicking a container’s lid closed.

Soap glared but pressed on. “What do you call a blind-"

“No.” The soldier caught between the two of them deadpanned.

“Oh, come on, Hyena, thought laughing was your thing?” Soap put down what he was holding, shaking his teammate’s shoulder with one hand.

“Are they—wrestling?” Hyena brushed off Soap, eyes trained ahead of them.

“Steamin’ Jesus, König! Don’t kill him!” Soap walked over, hanging back from the two men.

König and Roach were grappling at each other, Roach either unfazed or ignorant to the comical difference in size.

König looked up, surprise shining through the sniper hood that covered all but his eyes.

“I would never! Although he did challenge me.” He returned his attention to Roach, grabbing him in a hold and lowering to the ground.

Hyena watched him, fascinated with how he was able to articulate his strength so precisely. In the field, König practically ripped his opponents from the earth, but playfully sparring with a teammate, he was almost gentle.

“Do you surrender?” König spoke into Roach’s helmet, his tone dramatic.

Roach shook his head wildly, then after fighting to free himself for a few more moments, huffed a breath and relaxed. König released him, pulling him to his feet.

“A wise choice- ha!” He barked a laugh when Roach pushed his chest in frustration before returning to the table with the weaponry.

Hyena smiled, quickly looking down at the mag they were holding when they realized they were staring. They couldn’t help it—König was fascinating inside and out.

A tremble under Hyena’s boots caused their smile to fade quickly.

“Anyone feel that.” Their voice was low, catching everyone’s attention. Ghost nodded.

“Was about to ask. Close up the cargo.”

The trembling grew to a rumble in the ground, and Hyena turned in the direction of Price, who was already excusing himself from a group of superiors and walking over.

“What’s going on?” Price addressed Hyena.

“No idea, sir.” They looked back around, trying to locate the source of the noise. It sounded like highway traffic back in town but more intense, urgent.

“Soap, Ghost, König, Alejandro, man the front, Hyena, Gaz, and Roach, follow but don’t make yourselves seen. I’ll be in the hangar to spread the word then join the front. GO!”

Hyena grabbed the scope Soap had been holding and attached it to the Locus, moving it to rest on their back while they dragged as much cargo out of sight as they could. The front line moved to the left of the plane, past the wall that obscured Hyena’s view until they could follow.

“Let’s move, come on!” Gaz jogged past, Hyena joining him alongside Roach while retrieving their Locus from their back. They wavered some ten meters behind their teammates, moving from cover to cover with quiet speed. As they drew closer, the source of the noise was revealed. Two armored cars drove side by side, a gunner on each.

“What the hell is this?” Hyena murmured into comms, watching the cars grow closer.

“No idea.” Alejandro sounded just as confused.

The cars slowed to a stop, the passengers of each getting out and facing Ghost and Alejandro, who’d stepped forward.

Hyena moved silently forward, but Roach’s arm stopped them. He signed close to his chest.

Not yet.

I need to listen. They signed back quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder as they moved past. They made it close enough to hear, kneeling to lean forward. Alejandro was speaking, and he was frustrated.

“..No somos tus chicos! This was a simple mistake, my friends.” Alejandro remained calm, but his voice shifted to a threatening tone. “You need to leave.”

The men front the cars fired back in Spanish too fast for Hyena to catch, clearly enraged. Alejandro hung his head, exasperated.

“Since when do we have bandits?” Hyena spoke quietly into comms.

“Since now.” Gaz retorted. Hyena’s slight amusement was cut short by a gunshot. The man on the right had fired into the sky, Soap and Ghost drew aim, taking their stance.

“HOLD IT!” Price marched down the space between areas of cover, his anger radiating in all directions. He sized up the leader, lifting his chin so his eyes bore into theirs.

“Leave now and no one gets hurt. I’m being kind here.”

Hyena glanced at Gaz, sharing a look of fearful admiration for their Captain. They turned back just as the first shot was fired. It was one of the gunners, striking Ghost in the ribs. Luckily he wore a vest, but Hyena knew that pain could not be canceled out easily. Price got a hold of the leader’s gun, smacking him in the temple with the end of it. Soap and Ghost grappled with the leader’s posse while Gaz quickly took out the two gunners.

Looking behind them, Hyena spotted several men from the cars jogging to the main hangar. They signaled silently to Roach and Gaz, nodded their head in that direction. Running between cover, bullets whizzed past Hyena’s head, occasionally making contact with their leg armor.

Looking through their scope, Hyena aimed and disarmed the first enemy they saw. They’d shot the man’s legs so he crumpled to the ground, crying out.

They gathered the ammo he’d been hauling in his arms and returned it to an open container, snapping it closed once more. The process of disarming and relocating cargo continued before Soap’s voice boomed in Hyena’s ear.

“HIT! KÖNIG’S HIT! MEDIC, NOW!”

“The only medic is at the next hangar, how bad is it?” Hyena replied steadily.

“FUCKIN’ BAD!”

“On my way.”

“There’s more coming! Whoever the hell these guys are, they’re working for someone..” Ghost’s voice grated into the comms.

Hyena rolled to their side to avoid a blast of machine gun bullets, pressing their back to the cover they’d made it to. Breathing scarcely, they steeled themselves before muttering to no one in particular.

“Hang on, König..”

They sprinted from cover to cover with speed much like a the animal they’d been named after, feeling as such due to the humid air they pushed through. At last, König’s form came into view, Hyena breaking for it and earning a bullet graze to the shoulder for their hastiness. Soap kneeled at his side.

“You know what you’re doin’?” Soap hollered over the gunfire, squinting in the dust that had been kicked up around them.

“I’m the best he’s got!” Hyena replied, waving for him to keep moving. He clapped them on the back before obliging, moving quickly to return to the hangar and take Hyena’s place.

“Hyäne..” König murmured weakly, recognition flashing over his expressive eyes.

“Hey, big guy.” Hyena threw off their backpack, surveying his wounds. He’d been struck in the same place twice, close range from the looks of it, which had torn through his protective gear. Whoever this fucker was had horrifying aim. Unlatching his vest and lifting his shirt, they saw the extent of the deep red blood pouring through his gloves and onto the dusty ground. Watching Hyena dig through her bag, the situation seemed to set into the man’s mind.

“It’s dangerous to stay here..go, Liebes..”

“What? No.” They pressed a folded patch of gauze to his wound, causing him to tense and groan quietly.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry..” They returned to their bag to retrieve a vial of alcohol, lifting the gauze momentarily to sanitize the wound and surrounding skin.

“Why are you..”

“König, save your breath!” Hyena scolded, but internally their heart broke a little. What had the world done to this man to think he deserved to bleed out in the sand to some bandit?

“Can you sit up?” They pried gently. König obeyed, lifting himself to sit against the concrete wall that shielded them. Moving his shirt further, Hyena wrapped the gauze securely around his middle.

“Too tight?” They looked up into those misty eyes that shone through his hood, and König averted his gaze, blinking. “No..”

“Good.”

“They’re retreating!” Gaz’s voice sounded in Hyena’s ear, and they smiled.

“Hear that? Just a few minutes.”

König’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey. Hey, hey, no, no-" Hyena held his head in her bloodied hands, tapping gently, then firmly.

“SOAP! GHOST! NEED YOU TO CARRY KÖNIG, HE’S BLACKED OUT!”

The hollering into their comms almost sounded unnatural coming from them, a usually level-headed person and soldier.

“On our way!” Soap replied quickly, the sound of the armored cars beginning to fade in the direction that they came.

Ghost and Soap managed to drag the beast of a man back to the hangar, where the real medic had been called over. Hyena didn’t leave his side, insisting she be there for the entire process. They blamed their insistence on further training their medical skills, which wasn’t untrue, but the larger truth was they couldn’t bear pacing outside the infirmary door.

“That should do it, rookie. Not bad.”

The medic guiding Hyena cut past the last knot of König’s stitches, Hyena quickly soaking up the leftover blood with a pad of gauze. They should have kept him talking, or pressed harder, gotten to him quicker, something.

“I gotta get back.” The medic tore Hyena from their thoughts, lingering at the door.

“Of course. Thank you.”

They nodded, slipping out of sight with a tap to the doorframe. While König was still out, Hyena decided to slip his sniper hood back on to make him more comfortable when he awoke. A shame, they thought. His features were hardened from war, but especially relaxed this way, he was undeniably beautiful. Scars ran near his nose and along his jaw, accentuating the sort of ruffian handsomeness that was brought together by his dark brown, shaggy locks and stubble. After replacing the hood, they began to clean their station while waiting for him to wake. Hardly a minute had passed before they heard a sharp inhale.

Hyena rushed to his side, one hand hovering over his arm.

“Took you long enough.” Hyena spoke gently, letting him acclimate to the bright lights. He hummed in acknowledgment, attempting to sit up before quickly retracting with a hiss.

“Take it easy, we’re taking a day before leaving for the snatch and grab.” Hyena sighed. “You scared me out there.”

König hummed a short laugh. “You are..very brave.”

“Aw..” Hyena shrugged playfully.

“No, no..” König reached out, resting a hand on their forearm. His touch was warm, and the absence of his gloves made Hyena’s face deepen in color.

“I am..not used to this.” His voice wavered with uncertainty. “You are—kind.”

Their heart shattered all over again.

“When you’re hurt, König, when you’re down and bleeding, you deserve to be saved.”

König blinked, and a warm silence enveloped the two soldiers as his heart rate monitor chirped with every moment.

“You put my hood back on.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thought it would, I don’t know how you feel about-"

“Liebes?”

Hyena quieted, silenced by his addressing and the hand moving to hold her own. His thumb rested on their knuckles, his palm enveloping their hand in comparison.

“You can take it off.”

Hyena didn’t reply, looking between their hands and his gentle eyes. Their blush heated more at the closeness.

“I will.” He’d decided, and Hyena was too stunned to stop him as he moved the bed rail to stand with a sharp inhale of pain.

“You should..”

König lifted the back of it first. They’d seen his face, sure, but a medical state of mind is not one that focuses heavily on intimacy. In fact, thinking back to the exposed skin they’d felt while stopping the bleeding, there were many moments that had they been in a different state of mind, they would have practically melted from embarrassment.

He let the front of the hood fall from his face, revealing those eyes and dark eyelashes accentuated with the remaining war paint Hyena had failed to remove. It was strange, seeing such a large man fiddle with something in his hands and maintain a reserved body language.

“The truth is, I don’t show my face often, to them, because—I want to protect myself.”

His features moving with his words was almost too much.

“But you, you..” König trailed off, letting one hand holding the hood fall to his side while gesturing to Hyena with the other.

“What does Liebes mean?” Hyena murmured suddenly.

“Oh. Well, uh,” König scratched the back of his head briefly. “It means uh, what would you say? Darling.”

Hyena blinked rapidly, studying their boots for a moment. Their attention was brought back to the man in front of her by him stepping forward. Their head rose to look to his automatically.

“I need you to know that I’m showing you—myself, and calling you these things because..I feel differently about you than I do them.”

“In-in what way?” Hyena scolded themselves for stuttering, brought to shambles by this man before them.

“May I show you?” His voice was hardly a murmur.

“Yes.”

His hand came up to their head, cradling the back of it and resting a thumb on the sensitive skin behind their ear.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, König..”

Ever the worrier. Hyena tugged gently on his shoulders and he took the message and swiftly took their lips to his. He was hesitant, but feeling Hyena’s receptiveness to his touch let slip his neediness. He breathed shakily through his nose, lowering his head to kiss them deeper. Hyena hummed low in their throat when they felt his tongue, König beginning to emit lovely sounds in response. They separated by a centimeter, breathing deeply.

“I want to be with you, Hyäne.”

His confession was low and quiet, as if he was hardly ready to admit it.

“I want that too.”

Hyena returned to kiss him, relishing in the arms they felt cradle their back. It was not often they thanked an enemy team, but tonight, they did just that.

[pumpumdemsugah]

My rule of thumb for video essays is to simply avoid all of them

There are few people on YouTube that do anything close to an essay. I started blocking video essays channels a while back when I kept thinking " this isn't a fucking essay". If I really want to learn something I'll listen to an audiobook. It's funny, the most thorough people on YouTube when it comes to anything resembling an essay are people talking about an obscure video game they're really obsessed with that came out 10+ years ago. If someone hasn't been obsessed with the same thing for at least 5 years on their YouTube, they rarely make anything you could call thought provoking and it's simply content to feed to the algorithm

The average video essays are just lots of rhetorical questions, never digging into any point or doing any real analysis and if it's not that it's just memes and recycling talking points you saw on Twitter, Tumblr or Tiktok. It's wild when people call something a deep drive and it's just a bunch of tweets. Even without reading a new book, there should be books you've already read that you can revisit

Peoples content and media consumption behaviours and the way social media operates means it's perfectly easy to serve slop on a platter or wildly plagiarise and turn that into a career

[kieraelieson]

I'm not sure what kinds of asks you were searching for from your tss ask game, but here is one! have fun writing your fics!

Thank you!! This kind of ask is excellent 🥰

~

Thomas had become engrossed in a new game. Now Janus was all for this normally, a time of fully fulfilling one’s desires was something he greatly advocated for. However. In this particular situation, Thomas hadn’t eaten for upwards of twelve hours, and Janus’s self preservation instincts were beginning to set off alarms.

Janus appeared next to Thomas in the living room. Thomas’s eyes were fixed on the tv screen, his tongue poking out in concentration, a sense of fervent determination emanating from him. Something in Janus’s chest warmed with pride and adoration. But now there was something more important.

The ‘core four’ sides were all sitting on the couch with Thomas, watching just as intensely.

Janus leaned on the television, intentionally obscuring a portion of the screen. He cleared his throat loudly.

Thomas’s eyes darted to him, but in that same instant Virgil yelled “Behind you! The orc is gonna kill you!” And his attention was snapped back to the game.

Janus sighed. So much for the subtle approach.

“Thomas, you are in need of food and water. It is time for a break.”

Janus looked to Logan for assistance, but Logan was muttering under his breath, scribbling details into a notebook faster than a human hand could have. Ah yes, he would be caught up in memorizing the crafting system, maps and directions, and quest objectives of the game.

“Patton? Shouldn’t Thomas take care of himself?” Janus tried.

“Oh, ah, of course! But first we have to save the man’s daughter!! She’s in this dangerous part and we can’t let anything happen to her!”

Janus groaned. Roman, fully decked out in the gear of the point of view character, and practically vibrating in place while cheering on Thomas with every kill, would be no help at all.

Thomas’s stomach rumbled rather obviously, but it seemed Janus was the only one aware of that fact. He had to do something to shake Thomas out of his fixation so he would become aware of the state of his body.

“Mmmmmmm… Thomas, I have a final request for you to pause your game and care for your body before I will be forced to act more… intensely.”

It was as if he didn’t even exist. No one looked his way. That was frustrating. Janus wouldn’t even feel bad anymore for using extreme tactics.

“Remus, would you assist me?”

Janus stepped fully in the way of the screen, blocking Thomas’s view, which allowed the enemies to gain a significant advantage over the character. Remus waited until an opportune moment to pop out of the tv screen, shifted into the shape of one of the more gory looking monsters, and leap at Virgil.

Virgil shrieked, as did Patton, clutching at each other. Roman startled, and then began slashing wildly in Remus’s direction with his sword, yelling about how he would ‘kill the beast’. The yelling of the three of them made Logan look up from his notebook, blinking in confusion at why they were all so alarmed at a clearly imaginary monster.

Finally the character in the game died, and Thomas frowned. He set the remote down and stretched his arms over his head.

By now, Remus’s apparition was a fleshy pile of mess on the ground, and everyone was realizing that there was no real threat, and beginning to assess their safety, which included assessing Thomas’s safety, and would reveal the issues Janus wanted dealt with.

“Boy, kiddo, we’ve been playing for a long time,” Patton said, as if he’d just realized and Janus hadn’t been here saying it. “We should probably get some food or something.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, setting the notebook aside. “Food, water, even sleep are all necessary for you right now.”

Thomas yawned and stretched with his whole body. “Yeah, you guys are right. Maybe I’ll order a pizza or something.”

Janus rolled his eyes. Of course he’d be ignored after all he’d done to orchestrate this break.

Remus splorched over to him. “How was that?” His voice came from him generally, though there was no longer a discernible mouth.

“You did excellently, Remus. I appreciate your assistance.”

The mass of Remus wriggled in a happy way before sinking into the floor.

Well, at least now Thomas would eat. Janus also sank out, his work done.

~

Wanted to be tagged in this ask game:

@apricotbuncakes

@mimssides

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 18: Protecting (Kallamar)

you can find the list here prompt: Kallamar saves you while you're out together on a mission to get supplies notes: reader is gn, post game where youre both in the cult, reader is any creature, the first chunk of this fic has you getting your shit rocked through kallamar comes in clutch dwdw word count: 1511 cws: injury and blood as well as violence and death but nothing you wouldnt really find in the source

Footsteps thundered against the walls of the dungeons you rushed through. Your sides screamed at you to stop running, but the glance you tossed over your shoulder kept your body in movement as heretics began to close in on you. Three of them, and only one of you. You gripped the dagger in your hand, knuckles turned white as you tried to devise a plan.

You'd been separated from your travel buddy, Kallamar, and he was nowhere in sight. Your eyes ached in their sockets as you kept pushing your body to keep moving forward. Vines and plant matter covered the walls, masking any landmarks you could have used to backtrack your way out of Darkwood. Maybe if you could double back and rush by your pursuers-

A hot searing pain rips itself through your shoulder as the blade of a heretic tears through your clothing and makes itself home in your flesh. You bite back a scream as you clutch your dagger, whipping around and shoving your own blade into whatever unwilling flesh it would sink into. Twisting and pulling with all your strength, you shove the heretic away and try to make a break for it. Eyes wildly darting for the end of the hall you had just run through, trying to find an opening between the remaining two figures in front of you. There was a small gap between one and the wall, if you could...

You stagger, the pain in your shoulder making itself known through your desperation. Your grip tightens on your dagger, now dripping blood.

With feet stumbling, breaking into an uneven run you attempt to tear yourself by your attackers. They'd seem to miss your glance to the gap. They seemed to stiffen as you broke out into your sprint. You could make this, if you could just keep moving-

You feel your feet get ripped off of the ground as you're scooped up by one of the heretics, before you're slammed against the cool damp wall of Darkwood. Thorns press into your skin through your clothing, not that you cared all that much as your weapon was ripped from your hand and thrown into the darkness. Legs failed you as they flailed in the air, only to do no damage to your captor. Their hand clenched tightly around your throat, seeming to disregard their own weapon as they held you tighter.

Your vision blurs and darkens around the edges, before closing in. You could feel your heart in your throat and behind your eyes, screaming for release. Your mind raced as you tried to think of something to free yourself. Instead, you were given flashes of your own life leading up to this moment.

You being taken into the cult, you being given work, meeting your friends... You dully wondered if Kallamar would find your body and bring you home so you could at least have a funeral. You wondered if he was even still alive. A weak sob manages to break your gasping, if only for a moment.

Just as quickly as the pressure was applied to your throat, it was relieved. Your body sunk to the ground, slumping into the cold floor. You could hear the sounds of struggles, after a near animalistic scream. Opening your eyes proved useless, and your hearing... although recovering, was still ringing in your head. But you could feel through your surroundings that something was happening. It didn't last long, whatever it was... perhaps a minute... maybe five. It was hard to tell, but by the time the chaos calmed itself you were able to open your eyes again.

You weren't given the chance to see the carnage around you, before a pair of cool hands pressed themselves to your hot face. Your vision was fully obscured by Kallamar, his dark eyes looking right into yours. His face was contorted into one of fear and worry, as he ran his hands over your cheeks before checking the rest of your head, then passing down to your neck and shoulders... You heard his breathing hitch when he found your stab wound. The pain had turned into a dull throb as you tried to will your body to move.

Slick hands lightly traced the red blotch left on your neck, hot skin against cold giving some level of comfort as the pain started to roll in waves. Swallowing nothing, you leaned your head to the side. Both of the heretics were left killed, tossed onto the ground by the one you had fought off.

"Don't look at them," Kallamar hissed lowly as he brought a hand back to your cheek and pulled your head back straight. His brows furrowed together, no doubt in thought as he tried to plan your next moves. The remains of his ears twitched, before relaxing. He brings his eyes back to meet yours, now appearing tired and guilty. He takes the hand that was on your neck away as well as the one on your face. He pushed himself up off of the floor, towering above you. Even in his smaller mortal body, he was still much taller than most. You couldn't bring yourself to crane your neck back to look him in the face.

"Where..." You began in a croak as your fingers spread and tried to scramble against the stone behind you. You had no luck pushing yourself to your feet, if anything you only began to lean forward. How long had you been running before you were caught?

From the upper field of your vision you caught Kallamar scrunching his face up before smoothing his features. "I was chased off by those... savages..." His voice dripped venom, his hands busying themselves with the fabric of his robes. Then his fingers released themselves. For the second time tonight he crouched towards the ground, and he picked you up. A second pair of arms made themselves known, taking hold of his weapons as the original set secured you against his chest.

Now that your head was against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat. It was just as wild as yours was when you were slammed against the wall. A palm presses itself against where his heart lay, as if willing it to steady itself. He glances down at you, hands holding you closer. He took a step towards the end of the hall, through the end you had entered from during your chase.

"The end of Darkwood is the other way," You muttered as your fingers curled into the fabric of his robes. Bright red, as was the norm for those who follow the red crown. You vaguely wondered if Kallamar detested wearing such a color.

You felt his response in his chest before it left his mouth. You caught sight of his ears straining, trying to hear you with what little function they had left. "We have all that the lamb has asked of us..." He sounded firm, with more certainty that he usually carries in his tones. "It would be a waste if we died and lost it all," He added after a moment. His eyes softened as they glanced down at you, locked onto the blood drying in flakes around your exposed skin. Your robes had gone stiff where it dried, shifting uncomfortably against your flesh... further irritating your wound. "I..." He began before pulling his eyes away. His heart still pounded against your palm, albeit it had calmed over the last few minutes.

His eyes seemed to hold guilt.

You loosened your grip on the fabric, and let your hand fall to join the other.

Kallamar insisted he keep carrying you in his arms long after your strength began to return. Insisting that carrying you didn't hinder him all that much... and that you were already both nearly out of Darkwood anyway. You could have sworn you heard him mumble something about not wanting to lose anything valuable.

Asides from that, the rest of the way to the flock was mostly spent in silence. You left to mentally prepare for the pain that will inevitably get worse before it gets better... and he, seemingly stuck in his own thoughts as his face contorted into one of stress and exhaustion.

You continued to stare up at him. His flesh seemed to glow in the dim lighting, spots of color seemed to dance in the light. You watched his gills subconsciously flex on his neck as he worked through whatever he was thinking about. His heartbeat had finally calmed itself, the steady beat luring you to sleep as your ear pressed against him.

As your body began to succumb to sleep, you took one last glance and looked up at the former bishop carrying you. He wasn't looking at you, but his body that was once kept tense relaxed with yours. A soft smile crept itself to your face as your thoughts blurred into nothingness. The last thing you felt was one of Kallamar's spare hands rub a soothing circle into the side of your head.

[dogboyklug]

UH-OH! a comic about being trans. by me. part one of probably three :]

i felt bad about being transmasc so i decided to just give up and write about it until i hopefully didnt. i feel a little better getting this all on digital paper but there's still. a lot to draw. so. oops

i'll be posting the next parts. whenever they're ready (which will hopefully be soon) and linking them all here, so whenever you want just check back with the base post and i'll prolly add some links and maybe clean things up. yay!

text transcript / partial ID under the cut!

transcript:

looking back, there were a few signs i might have been trans.

[a sequence of events showing little me flinching and going "ow" at being called his deadname, little me reading a book and going "haha im like a tomboy but i dont like sports or being active or anything im just. a boy. haha", and little me having an active breakdown, crying and holding his glasses, with partially obscured text in a dark cloud around him. the only text visible shows his thoughts, and shows he's worrying that he's sexist for mostly only liking and relating to boy characters.]

...some.

however.

there were also a few things i considered signs of me not being trans at all.

EXHIBIT A:

[a drawing of little me, looking at his 3ds. he's thinking "as long as i make sure that i always play as the 'main girl character' in these games i wont cry because im a girl because i wont be me as a girl i'll be Them. roleplaying. as them".]

no dysphoria.

[caps] EXHIBIT B: [end caps]

[a crude drawing of little me staring at nothing. he's thinking "i don't hate women. and i don't like being mean to other people."]

[caps] I WAS A FEMINIST. [end caps]

and not toxically masculine.

i knew about trans people, but i didn't know trans MEN existed.

[a drawing of little me, with the caption "clueless". he's staring slightly up, and saying "huh?!"]

my mom was nonbinary, with a few trans friends, but people [caps] WANTING??? TO BE MEN??? [end caps]

to be

gross,

disgusting,

hateful,

cruel,

oppressive,

men?

[the background slowly gets darker until it reaches the final word, and that word is a significantly bigger font than the rest of the words.]

for a while, primarily due to my lack of research

[drawing of little me, staring at his computer (which is labeled "deviantArt machine") and going 'huh'.]

i figured, if i WAS trans, I was probably a trans women.

but of course, that was silly

you can't be a trans woman if you're already afab.

and there's no other ways of being trans,

right?

[a crudely-drawn drawing of a deviantArt favorite's tab. none of the favorited pieces have any detail, though several are the same width and length as classic deviantArt stamps.]

hm.

hmmmmm...

[a crudely-drawn drawing of a representation of one of the favorited stamps. it's a massive, pink stamp with the text "SHE/HER!" in it in all caps and pink lettering. bottom text states it is a "she/her pronouns badge by ...", though the rest is cut off.]

HMMMM...

[a picture of a mouse hovering over the 'favorite/unfavorite' button. the star is filled in, indicating clicking it would unfavorite the piece.]

[two wordless panels, side-by-side, showing little me staring at his screen, hovering his cursor over the unfavorite button.]

[two more panels, showing that little me has unfavorited the she/her badge. the panel showing his face shows he is grinning wildly, his hair has poofed up in excitement, and his glasses are now blue-ish purple.]

OHO!!!!!!!!!!!!1

.................and that's

quite literally

how it happened.

before i knew how bad the entire site was, i would frequent dA. CONSTANTLY.

it was baby's very first "social media" webpt site.

[a drawing of a tiny, cartoonish kitten with a small turf of hair, staring at wonder up at a computer, one hand on the mousepad. it is labeled "dramatic reenactment of me making my d a account."]

i wasn't really SHELTERED as a kid, i just didnt know fuck for shit, and my baby anxiety made learning annoyingly hard.

so i turned to memes as a sort of wire mother as opposed to my real, cloth one.

jokes can be easier to understand than reality, sometimes.

(this isnt a good thing.)

so, i sort-of-came-out on deviantart, home of the wacky, wild and weird, where i learned he/him pronouns were an option, and a choice.

[a drawing of little me, with blue glasses, gazing up at the sky and smiling triumphantly.]

and some crazy trauma but that's for a different comic. if i make it.

[a drawing of little me being hit with a cartoonish star, which is meant to represent the trauma.]

sooo...

that's it, right?

[little me, with a cartoony bandage on his head, gently rubbing his wound.]

my mom was supportive & anyone who wasn't ...isn't in the picture now

that's the end

...right?.

end transcript.

[phospadparadscha]

Disco Universe Pale thoughts-

Instead of being the physical manifestation (de-manifestation?) of entropy, maybe the Pale is instead a phenomenon that causes rapid erosion. Gems without adequate protection are basically getting hit by the world's shittiest sandblaster. The effects are similar to canon Pale exposure, with the added bonus of visible damage. The Paledriver has nicks and scratches across her gem, while Joyce uses some sort of clear coating to obscure hers.

Of course, those lost bits of gem don't just evaporate, they join the rest of the dust making up the Pale. The Pale is mostly inert rock, but there's still a significant amount of gem dust in there. With enough exposure, a Gem can get so worn down they can no longer hold a form and are functionally indistinguishable from shattered gems. I.e., they're fuckin dead.

Harry's druzy damage is rare, because those colors are didn't come from nowhere; they're deposits from other Gems, and the conditions under which they formed wpild normally be lethal. It's why the Skills aren't really whole people; they're miniscule fragments of other Gems, joined together. Almost like the Cluster on a very small scale.

I really really really like this Blue. FIRST of all let me thank you for being so involved in this crossover with me and giving me the enthusiasm to keep illustrating and theorizing for it, it means a lot that you and others as into this as I am because I LOVE both of these medias so just a quick thank you lol. More of my answer below so I don't flood people's dashboards:

I was wracking my brain on how to incorporate the skills into this AU and what to do with the Pale, and for a while I had a vague sense of the pale being a cosmic phenomenon rather than limited to one planet like Elysium in the game. I go into some detail about that and the failed rebellion here.

I agree with you that the pale would be something that causes rapid erosion, and that gems need to prepare physically to protect themselves (like buffing or coating). However I disagree that the Pale wouldn't be psychological in origin still. Steven Universe is a very emotional and interpersonal exploration of characters and I do think that the entropy and psychological horror of the Pale and of fragmented gems can coexist very well in this crossover.

Gems develop listlessness in their stagnating and deteriorating society in Steven Universe and the depleting resources causing physical deformities in gems like peridot and amethyst requiring limb enhancers to accommodate them. I think this idea- of a government failing its people contributing to a miasma of hopelessness and deteriorating sense of self in and outside of the Pale- works very well within the context of both the game and the show, and is part of why I think this AU can work the way it does despite the show and game being wildly different in world building and tone.

Gems like Volleyball for example are what I think the result of Pale damage would be. Volleyball's eye is cracked on her projection. This is a result of the psychological damage to her gem from Pink Diamond's abuse. It cannot be repaired like other cracked gems- it is deeply embedded in her gem and the data that projects her. And when sufficiently stressed, it can even spread. I think this aspect of the Pale damage and rapid erosion you mention would work similarly. The Pale is psychological deterioration and torture. It erodes the sense of self, and the gems themselves in a very permanent way. It is a lot like a sandblaster, but not just for the gem- also for the gem's minds as well, a bit like Houseki no Kuni where if the gem loses its inclusions their memories are lost as well.

What I love MOST about this ask is the way you incorporate the gems as particle dust into Harry's Skills, or furies, or voices. They dust over Harry's gem and erode his own at the same time, in a way that removes a large chunk of his data (his memory and gem coloration / density / powers) and dusts it with the shattered remains of past gems as well. The only issue I see with this theory though is that Harry's skills have been with him since before his wipeout in Martinaise, and are part of why Dora left him and why he was known as a can-opener. So perhaps Harry has always been able to hear these voices on the wind somehow, and only after Martinaise did they nearly over write his own gem. This is one aspect of the theory that I am not sure how to proceed but I think definitely that the drusy formations on his gem being particles of gems lost in the Pale manifesting as his Skills makes a great deal of sense.

Anyways I'm sorry for the long ass response lol I just love this crossover and I'm really glad that it caught your attention Blue because you've brought so much to the table!!! If you ever have art requests or anything at all please let me know and feel free to spam me with ideas and messages bc I'm always on that damn phone lol.

[phantomfen]

WIP game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

From @belfry-ghost with "DARK"

Decided to do all letters with the same wip 'Be patient, my heart' also known as Knight Fic

D -  17th of July, 1412

Danny just, if he has to, would rather not think about this spouse until their wedding day in two years time. They’ll need to play the romance game publicly for political reasons, and go through all the hoops. He knows what there is to gain, improved public relations, approval of their civilian populations for the match will turn into appreciation of the others’ realm. It just all takes a lot of time. And time he has in short supply.

A  - 20th of July, 1412

“... and like, I told him. I said ‘Frighty’ - I get to call him that, Ancients, never repeat that - I said ‘Frighty, why don’t you just take off your pauldrons or exchange them for a subtler pair, they easily add 5 centimeters on each side of you’.” Danny gestures wildly while he speaks, the reins loosely held in one of them, and is clearly not paying attention to where they are going. Cèleste is good about following Victor though, so no harm no foul. The way he is so absorbed in his story that he almost seems to have forgotten that he is actively riding a horse is charming. Robin can’t tell him off when he’s being this adorable. “And he replied ‘Squire-’” He does a voice too, it’s the best. “‘- these pauldrons of mine are part of my uniform as a knight. I surely cannot take them off. Our armor demands respect and I expect you to have understood that during your apprenticeship.’ and like, yeah, sure, it does. It’s very imposing and all. But you lose all the imposing posturing by needing to go through each and every door sideways right?” “Right!” Robin easily agrees.

R -  17th of July, 1412

Robin listens attentively and then sticks the entire piece of spiced sausage in his mouth at once. The parts of his face not obscured by his mask go through a journey of appreciation followed by steadily increasing alarm. Danny can't help but laugh a little over the redness on Robin’s cheeks that peeks out under his mask. He looks like he is desperately holding his breath. Robin can't keep that up forever though. He gasps a breath and follows it up with a lot of coughing and finishes up with a strained “Delicious.” 

K - 21st of July, 1412

Knowing that it is a choice just makes everything worse! He wants to yell at the other man. See! You can do it! You can hold a pleasantly neutral conversation! Why wont you! He can’t yell at the other man. The whole entire point of this charade is public relations between their nations. They need to look friendly at the very least. He can get a little passive aggressive instead. “Dearest,” Phantom says in a saccharinely sweet tone. He can see a muscle at the corner of Jason’s eye twitch. “Could you cut a piece of the pheasant for me.”

Thanks for the tag Juno!

I think most of my fanfic friends have been tagged by Clock or Juno, so I am not going to tag anyone. If anyone feels inspired, I've got the word 'MIRE'

[clumsiestgiantess]

Third chapter of Alexis & Erica’s story (I think I’m going to start calling it the other-world universe because that’s what I tag it as). The final intro chapter. Woah, another new ability?

all chapters linked here

[Two figures, one dark alley]

I made my way to the city again.  This time I took the proper amount of caution, because if I'm honest with myself, I wasn't paying all that much attention to where I was stepping before.  However, the closer I got to the city, the harder it was to find some open space.  In fact, the buildings were almost literally within my reach, but I had no way to get any closer without carving a path right through them.  Most of the larger buildings on the outskirts of the city only came to chest height.  Still, that was tall enough to stop me in my tracks.  I stood on my tiptoes, trying to scout out any signs of a giant robot battle like the one Liam created yesterday, but there wasn't a single piece of evidence that anything was out of place.

As I shifted my weight to one leg so I could see around an office building, the pavement of the empty lot I was standing in cracked beneath me.  I flinched, kneeling down to examine the shattered concrete below.  Am I really that heavy?  “Giant robots are invading!”  I scrambled to my feet in an instant.  My brother’s story is happening now!?  I looked around wildly, trying to spot who had yelled.  With all the tall city buildings, it was hard to get a clear view of everything around me.  I was used to a bit more open space.  Now, my vision was constantly obscured, but I tried my best to find out what was happening.

Rushing down an empty street as carefully as I could manage, I found a view of the highway into the city.  An explosion pictured on an electronic billboard dragged my eyes away from the busy road.  Large robots walked in thematic slow motion as the screen faded out.  The board announced: “See the new movie from the Battlebots universe, in theaters now!”  I took a relieved breath as I watched the preview switch with an insurance ad on the billboard's display.  My brother's stories were only movies, not reality.  There was no mass destruction, no horrible demise of the human race.  That's a relief.

The sun was already sinking below the horizon; I'd spent a lot more time than I realized finding a pathway out to the city.  I thought about leaving, but I’d come all that way.  Why not enjoy the city lights while I’m here?  Carefully checking the lot I’d come from, I sat down for a while and watched the city come to life for the night.  It was a nice break from everything that had happened in the world so far.  For once I had a moment to myself to enjoy without having to dodge vehicles, people, or houses.  This is great, I thought happily, time is stopped in my world right now.  I could come here and do whatever I like for as long as I want without any consequences.  If I wanted to, I could even sit here and do nothing for days and it would only take a few seconds in my own world.

I don't know how long I sat there for, but eventually I got up to leave.  The sun had long disappeared, and I was getting bored.  Just as I picked myself up, I heard something crash to the ground.  Standing frozen halfway bent, I looked for what caused the noise, fearing I'd broken something again.  "Uggh, let go of me you-!"  I quickly stood straight up, searching for the source of the voice.  My search led me to a run-down club a few blocks away and two people fighting in the alley beside it.  It was almost completely dark in the part of the alleyway I could see, and I didn’t have room to bend down either.  Despite my best efforts, I couldn't make out their appearances.  "This is the last straw, I'm done."  It was the voice I'd heard in the empty lot.  "What do you mean you're done?" another voice asked.  It was gruffer, more masculine.  "I mean you can go rot in hell you psycho!  I'm done dealing with your shit.  I can't stand another second of your fucked up little game where I hopelessly try to please you!  Is this where you've been sneaking off to?  You know what, I don't care.  I'm done.  Goodbye and good riddance!"  I don't know what I just stumbled upon, but by the sound of it, nothing good.  

It might be best for me to just leave; pretend I didn't see anything.  Slowly, I began backing away into the street.  "Where do you think you're going?"  For a brief moment, I thought the gruff voice was referring to me and I flinched.  Instead, the owner of the voice grabbed the other person and yanked them back into the alley, sending them crashing against a dumpster.  "What the hell, you could’ve broken my arm!" yelped the one who'd been pulled back.  The violent one sneered, "I'm going to break more than just your arm by the time I'm done with you!"  "What!?"  I spun around, watching as one hulking figure approached the other, halfway on the ground.  This little fight was going too far.  I had to stop him, but how?  I wanted to pick the threatening person up and throw them full force into the city, but I couldn’t just go around attacking people, even if they might deserve it.  

That's when it hit me.  If the smaller world is a recreation of the one on the kids table in mine, I could play out this argument any way I want like Liam can, only it’ll be real for me, because I’m the one who can use the table.  In seconds I was back in my own world, searching frantically for what might have been the place I'd seen.  Try as I might, I couldn’t find it.  The little building probably hadn’t made the cut for the model city.  However, through other buildings around it, I was able to gauge where the place would’ve been in the model.  I reached for the alleyway beside it, picturing the place in my head, and the whole table phased out before me, unveiling the other-world.  Briefly my fingers fell through open air before meeting the back of the man, who was turned away from me.  He had the other person’s arm gripped tightly in his hand, but once I touched him, he froze in place.  

My nerves spiked before I realized I was still invisible.  What the-  What happened?  Can I not change things like my brother?  I cautiously pulled my hand away and the man stepped backwards with it, still strangely frozen.  Huh.  Uncertainly, I used one finger to move his arm and make him pick up an empty can on the ground nearby.  I kneeled down, thoroughly shocked, leaving him frozen in place.  It's like a puppet on a string, I realized.  This is so much more than what my brother can do.  And so much worse.  I didn't particularly like the idea of controlling people like that.  Not only were the man’s movements weird and unnatural, it just felt wrong.

"John?"  The other person had gotten up, likely confused with his sudden strange movements.  ("I uh, I have to go now.")  I said quickly while turning him towards the parking lot.  Apparently I can speak through them too.  The man, John apparently, had said the same thing I had just as I said it.  I walked him a good distance away from the other person in the alley, but as I walked, I’d grazed the side of a building while I wasn’t looking.  I turned quickly in horror, expecting part of it to come crumbling away, but it was completely unscathed.  My side had passed directly through the building.  

While I was controlling one of these small people, my whole form became strangely intangible.  I tested this on cars in the lot.  Each one passed through my outstretched hand.  After testing out my new ability on a few other objects, I finally let the man go, willing him to drive away afterwards.  It worked, and I watched him look around confusedly, get in his car, and leave.  A quick swipe at a signpost proved that I was no longer intangible.  It fell to the ground at my touch.  I returned to my own world shortly after he drove out of sight and spent the rest of the day at home, sorting through what I'd learned.

My life then became an uncertain divide between worlds.  Spending too much time in either place bored me.  Whenever I got tired of one place I would slip seamlessly into the other.  After finding my strange new ability to control unsuspecting people, I’d decided I would only use it if absolutely necessary.  Using the tiny people like puppets felt a bit too invasive, even if they were just plastic figures.  Besides, what would I even do with them?  

The other-world was a lot easier for me to traverse now, too.  I spent most of my days practicing dodging houses, cars, and the like.  Not to brag, but I was getting pretty good.  The whole process was akin to a game of Twister or hopscotch.  Of course there were some mishaps.  People walking or driving around couldn’t see me, so every once and a while something or someone would travel directly into or underneath my feet.  Cars were the biggest problem.  Driving at a high speed directly into an invisible wall such as myself probably wasn't great, but I couldn’t really stop them.  A visual warning would completely counter the whole invisibility trick I needed to prevent everyone from freaking out.

I returned to the same empty lot that I had sat in to watch everything a few days prior — again finding that it was the closest I could get to the city.  Standing there unable to go any further, I watched again as everything began to light up for the night.  Neon lights flickered awake and large skyscrapers cast grand displays that lit up their sides.  The rushing cheers of a large crowd suddenly erupted from one side of the city.  There must be a game in the stadium tonight.  

A massive congregation was gathered in and around the football stadium to my left; cheers and music echoed from it.  Stepping over smaller buildings, I started off in that direction to try and watch.  I remember when my dad got the stadium set.  He was planning on re-selling it for more than he bought it for, but my brother insisted on having it, so it ended up as his birthday present instead.  The stadium was in an entirely different spot on the table than it was in the city, though.  Probably because we’d moved it around so many times; it was a big set and took up a lot of table space.

It was mind boggling to think that the plastic recreation from my world and the large steel structure in this one could possibly be the same thing, but they had to be.  Despite the variety of differences, they were both so eerily similar to each other.  I made my way over through parking lots and whatnot, shuffling across the outskirts of the city.  On my way through its rougher edges I came across the club from a few days earlier.  I couldn't have cared less about finding it again had it not been for a familiar voice shouting and laughing and definitely drunk.

I sighed, stepping closer.  It was the same voice I'd heard in the alleyway, the person I hadn't controlled.  Under the streetlights I could see that she was a young woman, probably in her early 20’s or so, with subtly dark skin and curled mahogany brown hair.  She shuffled over to what might’ve been her car, except when she tried to unlock it, a car further down the lot beeped instead.  However, she persisted trying to open the one she was already at, setting off the car’s alarm.  

A cop car pulled into the parking lot shortly after, and found her there.  By the time they pulled up, the young woman had given up using her key, and was trying to force the door open through brute strength instead.  Suffice to say, she didn't get very far.  The cops managed to get her into the back of their cruiser, saying something about how she was 'attempting to drive under alcoholic influence' or something like that.  Intrigued, I followed the car as best I could.  I managed to get all the way to a county police station, where the young woman disappeared into the building with the two officers.  

Well, I have all the time I want, and I'm curious to see how this plays out.  I waited the night by the station, leaning cautiously on the side of the building.  Finally, just as the sun had cleared away the dark of night, the young woman came storming back out of the station.  “Fuck, how did I let myself get that drunk?” she muttered as she walked past me to a bus stop by the road.  I carefully pushed myself away from the building so it didn’t collapse, and inched closer to the stop across the parking lot.  “Can’t believe this, now I have a stupid fine to pay on top of my rent that I already can’t pay anyways.”  I could help her, I realized while she complained.  I can easily get the money she needs from my brother's space bank heist set.  

The set was the newest addition to my brother’s collection.  I remembered that it came with miniature ATMs that held tons of fake bills.  There's a bunch of money I could easily take for her.  Maybe then I'll stop running into her problems when I'm here.  I waited until she got on the bus and followed it back to the club, where she found that her actual car had been towed.  "Can this day get any worse!?"

Thinking back to the night before, I tried to remember what her car looked like, the one that had beeped when she tried to open the wrong door.  I always stop in a towing yard on the way to this spot.  It was fenced in and open enough for me to stand in comfortably, so I would stop there to take a breather and find another open space.  Her car had to be there somewhere.  Following the path I’d taken earlier, I came to the tow yard and found her car parked close to the entrance, just as I'd suspected.  How am I supposed to get this thing back, though?  I can always control someone to get it.  I thought for a moment.  Did this situation count as an emergency?  Not really, but I'm only helping out like I did last time.  In the end, I snagged one of the workers and had him tow the car back to the club's parking lot.  When I returned, I found the young woman back at the bus stop.  I had the tow truck driver leave the car where it had been parked the other night and drive away.

I realized then that the young woman hadn't noticed her car was back yet.  After thinking of a way to get her attention, I grabbed the dumpster from the alley and brought it down hard on the ground a bit beyond where the car was parked.  She whirled around at the sudden noise.  "What the-  Is that..?  That's my car!  But, it's- How? I swear that wasn't there before."  She ran over to it from across the lot and practically jumped in.  I watched her drive off and followed her back to the apartment where she lived.  

Finally leaving her off there, I returned to my own world in search of the bank heist set.  Eventually, I found it amongst the boxes of other sets and board games piled high on a shelf.  I opened it up and dug through it, searching for the tiny stickers that read ATM.  When I found one and tore it open, a pile of tiny plastic bills came tumbling out.  Perfect.  Hmm, I wonder if I'm robbing a space world's bank right now...  Nah, I don't think deep space banks are real, I thought, chuckling to myself.  That’s too crazy even for the smaller world, plus this thing isn’t on the table.

Back at the apartment building, I realized I didn’t know where the young woman lived to put away the money.  I sat squished in an old baseball field behind her building to think.  That small area was the only place remotely big enough for me to fit in, so I would have to make it work.  Finally, I remembered how I could go through solid objects while I was attached to someone.  Huh, I guess it's useful for more than just controlling people.  

Forgetting about my self-made rules, I grabbed a person walking by and had them stand by the building while I peered in.  It was mid-morning now, and most people were at work or someplace else.  I found her room easily, it was one of the few that still had someone in it, and left the person I'd controlled to continue wherever they were headed.  Carefully, I slid open the young woman's balcony door and eased the money down inside once she left the room, trying not to break anything.  I was only a bit shocked to find that the plastic bills had transformed into real paper money when I crossed worlds.  After double checking I hadn't left any clues to where the money came from, I headed back to my own world, satisfied with what I’d done.  

Sometimes I still wonder about that day.  Why I decided to help her out of the hundreds of other people I'd encountered in the other-world.  Life went on as usual after that, I took a break from one world to deal with the other.  At school I realized I undoubtedly had the coolest life of everyone there, and I couldn't tell anyone.  Though, come to think of it, I didn’t really want to.  Apart from the slight hints of days when I canceled all my plans and snuck away to the basement, there was no way for anyone to suspect the truth.  Was it selfish of me to keep the discovery of a whole other world to myself?  Maybe, but the other-world was much more comforting when I was there alone.  Well, alone with the millions of people who live there.  But they don't count, they aren’t real anyways.

[hivefleet-hellbender]

Pink Horrors of Tzeentch, bound to copper masks

I've been building and painting the start of my Tyranids Hive Fleet for the past three months, and towards the end of November I realized I needed a break. Plus, I'd be traveling to an artist residency program in rural Colombia and I knew I'd want something else to do while I was there. So I decided to build a squad of pink horrors but with an eerie and minimalist twist.

Now if you've seen Games Workshop's Pink Horror models, you'd know they're pretty much dogshit. Their faces are more orkish than daemonic, they have these strange long proportions that don't have much weight to them, and despite their ever-shifting chaotic nature, they look like just a stack of little dudes they look like a stack of little dudes with more arms than usual. They’d fit better in an old Betty Boop cartoon than on the battlefield of the 41st millennium. My goal for this project was the present an aesthetic for Tzeentch that fits with my own taste in monstrosity — blank-eyed every-shifting mounds of flesh that hover on the boundary between symbolism and raw horror. 

My journal quickly filled up with drawings of weird masked monsters in the margins. My inspiration came from cubism, along with movies like Mirrormask and Ruban Brandt: Collector. I also was heavily inspired by the copper face on the Abominable Intelligence by John at Ex Profundis. I got really into the idea of the masks as some sort of binding vessel for the Tzeentchian cultists, who could use the daemons as attack dogs by trapping them within copper plates. I wasn't sure if I wanted the models to be 40K or Age of Sigmar, so I tried to keep the designs agnostic and avoid any technology or mechanical bits. 

I knew I wanted to use the pink horror model as a base, but that the number and consistent size of arms would be insufficient for my needs. To make sure my little guys had all the arms they needed, I picked up a box of Mantic Games Zombie Horde. This box comes with forty zombies, and most of the arms are perfect and usable, meaning I’ve got about 72 human-sized arms to accompany the much larger horror arms of my gribblies. Towards the end I also picked up a box of blue horrors, so that I can expand my Tzeentch army once I’m done with my infinite ‘Nids.

I made the mask from a couple different pieces of plastic. At first I used these clear disks I had, but they gave the models a “bobble-head” look which… I didn’t hate, but did obscure the size of the horror and make it look a bit too tiny. For later masks, I took the base of the zombie, tidied it up, and carved a face into it. I intentionally kept the faces very minimalist, focusing on just the bare necessities: two eye-holes, a little slit mouth, and a single haphazard nose. 

I focused on a very improvisational building approach — using a base of either green stuff blob or a pink horror body, which I then superglued the mask onto and then applied as many arms and legs as I could reasonably manage. Often I would trim an arm straight off the spruce and barely clean it before attaching it on, meaning there's a few moldlines or sprue bits that I can't help but stare at. I think if I was to repeat this process I'd trim all the parts and set them aside before I even started working, but I also had no clue how this would go and was just enjoying the process as a way to decompress after a wildly hectic week.

Once the models were all done, I spraypainted them all white and tossed them in a box with me to Colombia, where they got damaged during transit and had to piece a couple back together with superglue.

I painted the bodies with two layers of Volupus Pink contrast paint, followed by a drybrush of 1 part Red to 3 parts White.

I painted the masks with Gunmetal followed by a wash of 1 part Orange to 1 part Mid Brown wash. Then I did a Dark wash with some streaking, followed by a Verdigris effect paint to get that gunky green rust effect at the edges of the copper.

I painted the jewelry and various instruments / standards gold, and did the gems in red with a pink highlight. I did the nails and teeth in white, the tongues in a very light pink mix, and the feathers a light green mix followed by a dark wash. I hope to return to the feathers later to give them more detail if I ever end up doing a Lord of Change, as in my head I imagine those feathers are small gifts from it to its most loyal minions. The fire is yellow, orange, and red, and the OSL was done by mixing the contrast pink with orange.

The bases are admittedly an afterthought — I'm in rural Colombia right now and so I can't finish them the way I want to. I'm planning to pick up some resin cobblestone bases and candles, so I can make the models look like they're inside a weird cultist basement, skittering around in the darkness. There's a lot of lessons I've learned for next time I paint models like these, and this was my first time working with contrast paint, but it was still a ton of fun and I'm proud of how they turned out!

[hechiima]

I am Constantly Thinking about the fact that aa4 Phoenix and Sholmes are so similar.

They share a bunch of basic characteristics; single weird dad raising a brilliant but insane daughter he acquired through great personal tragedy while his partner is literally an ocean away. Like Capcom really said "oh you thought 7yg nrmt was painful wait till you see 10yg hmmk and no, they do NOT have phones or airplanes." What the fuck!

And then Sholmes and Beanix both play similar roles in the games. They're the mentor figure that "adopts" the MC but don't seem entirely there. And it makes sense - at the start of their respective games they're way too OP so the writers have to nuke them somehow. Phoenix (while disbarred) is still established to be legendary in the legal community and Sholmes is literally anime Sherlock Holmes. So they both obscure the fact that they're actually brilliant by being either weird/cryptic (Phoenix) or as stupid as humanly possible (Sholmes). With Phoenix I think this facade's a bit more obvious b/c you know him but when you see the mask starting to chip away with Sholmes it is SO good. And ofc, it's revealed at the end that they actually spent the last respective 7 or 10 years working to bring the main villain down and intervene at the end of the case in a wildly dramatic way, bringing their story to an end.

Phoenix is a lot sharper and more openly bitter than Sholmes, but they're both clearly willing to do whatever it takes, even if it hurts the MC, to achieve their goal. Phoenix obviously hurts Apollo when they first meet with the bloody ace. Sholmes, meanwhile, is much kinder to Ryu and their relationship doesn't splinter almost immediately upon meeting but the whole "lying about your best friend dying this whole time" thing is remarkably fucked up. And yet Sholmes/Phoenix's actions are arguably justified given what's at stake! But also I think that speaks a lot to their characters and the lengths that they're willing to go to achieve their goals.

Idk. I think they're both insane and I'm obsessed with them. Capcom said we're gonna remake this dilf twice and I fell for it both times.