#bc if i dont seem good enough than what am i?

[mainfaggot]

just got called sir by the cashier at the sushi pop up shop on campus

[icewindandboringhorror]

I've referenced before how I have a big google document to keep track of every media I've ever seen in my entire life (just for reference because I like to track everything possible lol… I am the Data Collector), but recently as I was updating it, I thought of actually evaluating them to find out random percentages (like for example, out of Total Shows Watched, what percentage did I finish vs. stop watching, what percentage did I like or dislike, etc.)...

Evaluating these things is made easier by the fact that I already place everything on each subsection of the list into 6 broad ranking categories, so I don't have to go back and guess to figure out how I feel about them or anything. The categories are: Ranking 5 - overall best* (despite some criticisms of course because I'm too much of an Analyzer to ever find anything Perfect lol) Ranking 4 - more positive than neutral, but not good enough to be 5 Ranking 3 - either the good + bad negate each other, OR it's just not memorable/interesting in any way enough to be ranked higher or lower (this is the Default category ALL things are placed in if no other rank applies) Ranking 2 - maybe a few redeemable elements but largely more negatives than positives Ranking 1 - So bad that it circles around to being fascinating to observe in some way (not necessarily Funny, or Good, but just interesting somehow) Ranking 0 - Bad in a genuinely frustrating or obnoxious manner

*("best" primarily defined here as most interesting, rather than most good in a technical sense, or some other measure. I tend to value more highly whether there's something novel or thoughtful about the worldbuilding, tone, writing, base premise, etc - than about whether it's actually executed perfectly.)

And here's the amount of shows that have so far been placed into each category -

TV shows ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 20 shows ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 28 shows ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 114 shows ~ Rank 2 (mid low) -33 shows ~ Rank 1 (low low but intriguingly so) - 14 shows ~ Rank 0 (iredeemably low) - 2 shows

This would make for a total of 211 TV shows overall. However, there are 57 shows within these list marked as "didn't finish" (typically meaning I quit on the very first or second episode - but log them still to keep a record that I at least had a brief view of them).

So my total of genuinely fully watched shows would be more 154. 211 Total, but a More Accurate Total of 154.

Counting them all and using the Total Number Of The List (211) -- that means roughly 9.5% of all total shows I have ever watched (or at least attempted to watch) have been Mostly Good, 13% have been Moderately Okay, 54% have been either entirely Forgettable or some mix of good + bad that lands them right in the Neutral Middle, 15.6% have been Mostly Bad, 6.6% have been Bad (but in an interesting way), and 0.9% have been Terribly Bad.

Additionally, I didn't even get past the first two episodes of about 27% of the total.

Sooo, discounting ones I didn't finish, my total TV shows ever watched in my life would be about 154 (maybe give or take a few, assuming I might have forgotten some from very long ago).

But instead of entire life, let's just say this is the total for 'About 20 Years' (so, not counting very early childhood when I likely wouldn't remember things I saw/have no detailed recollection of them (like for example, I'm sure at some point when I was like 4yrs old I must have seen an episode of Spongebob or something, but I have zero distinct memories of it, can't quote anything of it, and barely recall the premise - so I don't count it on the list, etc.)).

In that case, 154 divided by 20 would be roughly 7.7 shows a year.

Which is actually surprisingly low considering that I often have stuff on in the background for hours whilst I make sculptures and do costumes and stuff (maybe I should have also marked some distinction between 'things I fully paid attention to' and 'things I kind of half listened to whilst sculpting', but that would further split the categories too much probably lol), but I guess a lot of that is youtube videos or random documentaries, so .. eh.. maybe I get it being lower.

Now, doing the same thing for movies-

Movies ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 4 movies (3.4% of total) ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 12 movies (10.3% of total) ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 91 movies (78.4% of total) ~ Rank 2 (mid low) - 8 movies (6.8% of total) ~ Rank 1 (low but interesting) - 1 movie (0.8% of total) ~ Rank 0 (irredeemably low) - none in this category (0%)

That makes 116 for a Total (Actually Remembered) Movies Watched In Lifetime (Or At Least In 20 Years).

116 divided by 20 is roughly 5 or 6 movies a year (I feel this has probably been skewed though by adding everything since like elementary school onwards, as I remember a lot more movies from child/teen years.. Whereas, the past 3 years I feel like I've barely seen maybe even 5 movies?? lol). I also have "Didn't Finish" marked on 18 of them. Which means I quit halfway through about 15% of the total movies.

So, a for broader summary stuff..

I seem to be less forgiving to movies than tv shows, by far. Which makes sense to me, I guess, because I love elaboration and details, so "short form" things that only last an hour or two are often lost on me a bit. My biggest complaint with movies is indeed usually walking away just wishing there had been more exposition, more scenes where characters are doing nothing, more "mindless bantering" conversations, more Quiet Downtime and Lore Elaboration and so on lol, so... of course most 1-2hr films end up feeling a bit Not Enough To Draw My Interest/Nothingy to me.

If you count 5 and 4 as "like" and rankings 2 to 0 as "dislike", then for TV shows I at least somewhat liked 48 of them, and at least somewhat disliked 47 of them.. So it's almost exactly the same lol. I'm just about equally as likely to find something bad as I am to find something redeeming about it. But overall, the largest chance is that I just won't really care much for it at all and it will be tossed into the 'neutral' pile, forgotten forever. Movies have a bit better of a balance, "liking" 16 of them, and "disliking" only 9 of them. So I'm slightly more likely to enjoy a movie than to find it annoying - though still VASTLY more likely to just not find it anything in particular, possibly not even finishing it.

ANYWAY.. this is vague and literally pointless, but like I said, I just really find information fun. Like my document where I've rated every apple flavor I've ever tried (like 40 of them now?), or reviewed every oreo flavor (32?), or ranking data from my entire 10 years of Trying To Make Friends process (out of 100 people, roughly 8% chance of a moderate compatibility, 3% chance of high), or etc. etc.. I love to have random pointless things to analyze I suppose lol.

I doubt anyone tracks things in their life in this same exact way, but I'd be interested in hearing any at least somewhat similar data !!! (like, how many TV shows you watch a year on average, and what percentage of those you like vs. dislike (if you keep track of that sort of thing), etc.)). I guess it might be easier with movies, since I think some people use those websites where you curate a list of movies you've seen and you can rate them or something, so maybe the numbers are already available on those places. :0

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[comradecowplant]

so things are not going well with my new elderly socdem friend unfortunately.

[carnallyricky]

Oh my god he thinks I'm boring doesn't he. He doesn't find me interesting and talking to me feels like a chore im going to kms

[synthetic-sonata]

one day ill post my pokemon games + spinoffs tierlist that im slowly chipping away at and have been since, like, june or july . but i dont think people are ready

[good-enemy]

Can I ask what you think about the Travis relationship? Do you think it’s real or PR? Do you think it will end any time soon? I just hate it so much

Honestly I have no idea, tbh i hadn't really thought about it being PR 🤔 I do think it's real but I wouldn't be like really shocked if it turned out to be PR lol

Idk how soon it will end or if it will end honestly, I feel like they might get married what with how much she talked abt it on ttpd and how much she obviously wants to get married but who knows, maybe she will just never stop working and never have time for marriage :(

[pizzapizzadickz]

.

[mrfoox]

Uh.... Kinda brought up an topic which was tough but it was okay....?

[moonstruckme]

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you���ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return. 

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 

“You’ve caught me.” 

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

[luminique]

Lighter praising (or showing affection) and telling reader that he’s veryy proud of reader who has daddy issues (aka me) </3 (make it a bitt angsty bcs yes)

with that voice of his…. oh i’m not sure if he knows his power. also i am SO SORRY if i messed this one up because i’m bad at writing T_T also this reads weird if i dont clarify that its an established relationship between lighter x reader

not everyone has a good relationship with their family. especially after the fall of the Old Capital, many had lost their family and caused a rift between their still alive relatives. your day to day life hadn’t changed much but it was difficult for your family to get accustomed to the new life.

with that came many challenges; your parents working more to sustain themselves, their expectations for you as their child to pursue higher aspirations. the outer ring wasn’t where they wanted you to stay for the rest of your life, new eridu is a much better option for your future. days go by, stress piling up, nightly arguments at the dining table about how you should spend less time with the sons of calydon.

you never really brought it up to the other members. you knew they’d comfort you, considering they all had troubles in their past, but it’s not like you want to bring down the mood all of a sudden. on one particular night though, you had noticed lighter sneaking away from the rest of the group. you thought you could follow him but he was a lot more alert than that.

“wanna get some air for a bit? the girls are still talking so its all good.” lighter handed you a lollipop as he began to unwrap one for himself. there was an empty area far enough from everyone that had a perfect view of the night sky. no clouds in sight, just the twinkling stars and the bright full moon. lighter sat down first, sweeping away any dust before patting the space next to him. as you sat down, you began to ponder about your life. you hung out less and less with the sons of calydon since your parents, more specifically your father, wanted you to work harder. even if you had brought home some extra tips from cheesetopia, or helped out around blazewood, it seemed as though your efforts weren’t being appreciated and instead all he had to say were insults.

in the corner of his eye, lighter noticed you staring off into the far distance. he scooched over a little closer to you, maybe he’d be able to see what you were seeing. “something caught your eye?” his deep voice cut through your train of thought, making you blink at him in confusion. “oh uh… just thinking.” you mumbled, finally unwrapping your lollipop and popping it into your mouth.

“something happened recently, right? you leave earlier than usual lately.” you forget how perceptive lighter was, always noticing before others. “not recent but…” you ran your hand through your hair, feeling frustrated at how you couldn’t even enjoy such a quiet and beautiful night. after a moment of silence, you finally spoke up.

“it’s just, my dad. you know how it is out here in the outer ring. they want me to move out to new eridu but i can’t just leave. i have you and- and the girls…. they just want so much from me…” your voice trembled as you let your emotions flow out of you. your bottled up feelings finally overflowing as tears began to well up in your eyes. in between the soft cries, you felt lighter’s hand on your shoulder, rubbing you to help you let it all out.

“don’t let that old man tell you what to do. you’re doing a lot already. everyone in blazewood can tell you the same,” he spoke quietly but noticed how you seemed to still be trapped in your own thoughts. he placed both hands on your shoulders and turned you towards him. “hey, hey. listen to me. you’re wonderful and we all appreciate what you do around here. your dad knows nothing about you. we know you, i know you, and i’m proud of all that you’ve done.” lighter’s voice turned more serious, yet still carried a hint of softness to it.

he removed his sunglasses, exhaling as he looked down at you. “home is where the heart is. right now, where is your heart? hmm?” he asked quietly, moving his hands down to cup yours. “here. blazewood. i want to stay with all of you.” your sniffling was shattering his heart, trying to cheer you up but also afraid of saying the wrong things. he brought up one of his hands to the side of your face, gently wiping away your tears.

“then stay with us. i’ll talk to him, alright? just between us, i won’t tell the rest.” his voice was warm, similar to that of a fire on a cold night. he pulled you closer into his arms, hushing you while reassuring you. lines of “it’s alright” and “i’m here” came out of him naturally as you gripped onto his jacket. a moment of vulnerability, a moment of sadness, a moment away from keeping up appearances. you didn’t have to pretend, you couldn’t pretend anymore and lighter could see that. soft pats, gentle kisses on the top of your head, he just wanted to make you feel safe and loved after having your feelings constantly dismissed.

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 3 ft. Horrortale

Its 3 am- This... this is over 3k words.... I'm both cooking and cooked apparently bc this is even longer and more detailed than the last part, I honestly dont know what came over me. The ending is a bit rushed and im posting this half asleep and barely able to make sense of whether or not any of this is actually good but i wanted to post it before going off to sleep - i do hope you enjoy it though, even if by this point im not sure you can call it an anti harem... maybe ill explore that bit more in the next part.... (p.s. i would love love looove to hear you guy's thoughts on what ive cooked up here so please leave a comment if youre inclined to <3)

Part 1 Part 2

It had been a few weeks since the attack on the monster settlement and your work kept you busy. Black and Mutt had both been a welcome new change as far as your experience in monsters went, the three of you seemed to grow closer by the day - sharing the mutual burdens of your job whenever you had any amount of free time. You and Black formed a good professional relationship, often sharing insights on the progress of monster integration into the world outside, and Mutt - albeit avoidant, seemed to develop an interest in watching you whenever he thought you wouldn't notice. He even sometimes visited you whenever his brother had been busy, coming to your office to slump on your couch and waste away his free time, scrolling through his phone and trying not to get caught staring at you while you filed away paperwork.

It was on a particularly early morning that you had arrived at your office, still dazed from your lack of sleep when a new case appeared at your desk. You rarely did personal requests, but this one you could hardly refuse as it had come from one of the joint rulers of the Underground. 

Queen Toriel summoned you, and you listened as she told you her concerns about a particular percentage of her population having an especially difficult time with the integration process. You picked up on the finer details of her request - unspoken words to her plea.

You were aware of the spatial anomaly that had caused the particular brand of chaos that was currently plaguing Monsterkind, a rift that had caused a collision of alternates and pulled them all here. It was a guarded secret among the higher ranking officials, the details shared only to those who were known to be trusted - or to those who were smart enough to see beyond the fragile lie. You were both you supposed, the Archmage themselves requested your insight into the matter, and you offered to consult wherever you could. It didn't surprise you that the Queen turned to you for assistance - involved as you were in the matter.

You agreed to her request, you could hardly refuse considering the high brand on the paperwork, the signature of the Archmage looped in finer print at the corner of the page. You left promptly, assigning a trusted associate of yours to man the office while you were gone, unfortunately the urgency of your task bid no time to waste so you left without notifying the two skeletons that had seemed to be stuck in your orbit as of late, but that was the nature of things when you had such a demanding position.

You were relocated into the depths of the Underground, a rather lavish apartment greeting you in the shadow of the castle of the royal families, but you had little time to waste, the faster you got to work the smoother the integration process would be.

You met with those currently overseeing the progress of the whole thing, a joint department consisting of monsters, humans and mages - social workers, professors, doctors, therapists and volunteers - all with ample experience concerning the more particular quirks that came with joining cultures and assessing risks where there were any. Your status would do you more harm than good here - you realize early on, advised by the royal court to take a more personal approach as you shed down your heavy coats and branded insignias - monsters in the underground were still rather wary of mages, especially ones as infamous as you. You took on the faux position of a well renowned inspector, and set yourself to figuring out what the problem was and how best to solve it.

It was there that you met them, two new yet rather familiar faces that were introduced to you as the spokespersons for the rebuffed population, Twilight and Dusk by name. 

Twilight was large, even by monster standards, a lean silhouette that towered over any others in the room with a set of jagged teeth and a weathered look to his eyes. His appearance however, seemed to be rather misleading. He was friendly, overly so, extending his hand to you in his introduction as he shook yours with a controlled precision, his crooked grin lifted, delighted to meet a new face among the many who were already so familiar over his long stay in the program. He was chatty, friendly even, a social butterfly that delighted in telling you about the many state of affairs that flitted about the establishment. There were some quirks however… every now and again he confused words, voiced idioms that you could hardly make sense of - something about frisbees. He had ticks, nervous habits and moments of sudden cautious anxiety that brought concerns to your mind, there were times where he seemed almost manic, a rattling in his bones as he flitted about the room as if trying to burn off excess magic, trying to keep his hands and mind occupied.

Then there was Dusk. Like his brother he was considerably larger than the average monster. He was bulkier, bigger, an imposing presence in the room that set even your nerves on edge. He seemed dangerous, more than any of the other monsters you've come across, something in your mind whispered caution as you introduced yourself. The best word you could use to describe Dusk was heavy, both literally and metaphorically. He dragged his words as if he practically pulled them from the depths of his mind, his movements were slow, weighed almost by some unforeseen force you could not comprehend, and every now and again he lost focus, a single red eyelight dilated and staring promptly into nothing. His mind was both sharp and slow at the same time, he often shared insights that were surprising in their outside perspective, he commented on things that others had passed by in their expertise - drawing attention to underlying issues that had been overlooked due to the fact that nobody had really thought of them as issues before he made comment. He had a finer eye for detail, but at the same time there were moments where he'd lose his train of thought, a byproduct of his severe head wound no doubt, words forgotten on the tip of his tongue - moments like those seemed frustrate him quite badly, his fingers pulled on his one blank eye socket in quiet irritation. On his better days he'd make offhanded puns that were rather dark in theme - cannibalism seemed to be a favorite of his. On his bad days his voice turned cold, words sharp as his grin pulled on his face almost maniacally, he was tense, guarded like a cornered dog ready to bare teeth.

It had taken you some time to get situated in your new environment, you spent your days meeting with the other monsters who shared similar ailments to both Twilight and Dusk, consulting with the people directly responsible for their integration process and finding correlations between things that worked best and those that didn't work at all. A common pattern in all of those monsters became clear days after your assignment, the heightened cases of sudden anxiety and panic attacks. It was odd to you for some reason, it wouldn't be unnatural for this particular batch of alternates to suffer from such things, considering what you knew they had gone through back in their own reality, but something about it seemed odd.

You investigated your suspicions further, repeatedly meeting monsters and doctors alike, questioning them about the intricacies of their ailments, trying to garner light on the plausible cause for the widespread issue. Twilight seemed eager to help you, he often accompanied you in your search for more information, more knowledge, and his assistance proved quite useful - when you questioned him as to why he seemed so willing to assist you, he responded with an abashed admission - a want to help the monsters who were struggling most finally see the light of day, to taste the fresh air of the outside world, they had been stuck underground for too long. He often stayed with you after hours, organizing papers and research as you delved into the mystery with a hyper focused obsessiveness. You found you always became like this, obsessive over things you could not define or explain, it was that part of you that had helped you rise in power as fast as you had, starved for answers, eager to explore and redefine the things unknown to you- it was almost nostalgic in a way.

 Twilight had a talent for filling blanks in your knowledge, unfamiliar territory as this was he often offered you more insight in the particularities of monster illnesses and behavioral patterns that you were not privy to. You often asked him for clarifications and added depth to your research and he provided them eagerly - either through his own knowledge or systematically organized interviews and research papers that were color coordinated and alphabetized neatly on your desk. He had a knack for organization that one, but you couldn't help but notice how his expression soured whenever he had to bend to lift a particularly heavy box of files off the floor - he tried to hide it, face turned away and the occasional popping of bones concealed by the clear of his throat, but you noticed. You tentatively questioned him about it one late evening, not wishing to pry more than he was comfortable with. He seemed embarrassed by your attentiveness but didn't deny it, hands clasped and pulling on his long fingers in a nervous habit. He revealed to you that the current brand of healing magic and medicine could do very little for his deteriorated state, the effect was not potent enough or so it seemed. The fact didn't sit right with you, and you decided in your mind that you could multitask.

Your research prolonged, and your frustrations grew as the answer to your questions evaded you. You began to spend more time in your office than in your pristine afforded apartment, head buried in books and rushed consultations between experts in the department. Your obsessiveness seemed to grow, and with it your attention to your health lessened, overtaken by a constant hunger for answers. That hunger seemed to replace your baser instincts however, and one particularly busy day the consequences of your declining attention to your physical state seemed to catch up with you.

 You had been on your way to another scheduled meeting with an on site surgeon, carrying a closed file with a hurried pace, you were far too absorbed in your head to notice the shake of your own fingers, or the way the corners of your vision blurred. You were so absorbed in fact, that you didn't even notice the sudden approach of Dusk from the hall across from you. You had ran right into him, nose buried in the plush of his sweater as you had your senses knocked right out of you. The contact didn't even phase him, and he had caught you by the forearm to steady you. You had apologized, noting how it was unlike you to be so distracted in your surroundings. He hadn’t seemed to mind, his large eyelight coming to a soft focus on the point of contact with your arm. 

The force of your run in with him had knocked the file you were carrying onto the ground however, and as you leaned down in your hurry to grab it the world around you spun. You lost your bearings, and your vision turned to black as you fainted, vaguely aware of the pull of someone's arms around you.

You had woken up in one of the medical rooms, an IV in your arm and a growing headache in the corner of your mind. Dusk was there too, hunched in an office chair that was far too small for his hulking frame, you would have laughed - if you hadn't felt like shit at the time that is. Your movement seemed to wake him from his zoning out, and he had leveled you with a look that you couldn't readily discern - something of a mix between worry, scrutiny and confusion. The doctor on hand had walked in to check up on you, cautioning you to pay better attention to your health, you had felt like a child, embarrassed with your own state. Dusk had sat silent next to your bed while you were being discharged, and as you stood to leave with an order to go home and get some rest from the doctor, he stood with you.

The skeleton escorted you home, a silent but unmistakable presence at your side and as you were ready to thank him and say your goodbyes at your door, he had asked you when you had last gotten something to eat - you couldn't give him a straight answer. 

He had pushed his way inside your temporary home then, and you questioned him in your confusion as he opened your fridge to find it mostly empty, he clicked his tongue, a low growling hum from the pit of his ribs as he pushed you down on your couch with a stern order to ‘wait here’

He blinked out of existence then, returning after a while with a greasy bag of food and he urged you to eat, pushing the bag in your lap despite your urge of protests. You complied, silently eating under the watchful eye of his softly dilated gaze.

From then on Dusk began to visit your office on a regular basis, bringing both you and Twilight regular meals and spending his time lounging in one of the bigger chairs available at the time, idly flipping through books. His presence seemed to anchor you, and often he knocked you out of your hyper focused state with a random pun or an offhand comment about the weather. It worked, your urgency had stilled to a healthy normal, mind clearer as both brothers had now taken to paying a keen interest in your physical condition. You still remembered the frantic lecture Twilight had given you after your little trip to the emergency room. He had begun to limit your time in the office after that, setting a healthy time table with a balanced schedule for both rest and work.

The growing connection between the three of you was plain as day, and as days passed you began to find the answers you were so desperately looking for. It was a regular day in the office when you finally solved the mystery - a calm afternoon spent in a comfortable conversation with the brothers over a cup of tea and some snacks Twilight had graciously shared. You had been brainstorming with the brothers, shooting off your theories for plausible causes when Dusk piped in with something that caught your attention. 

You almost dropped the cup of tea you had been idly cradling in your hand. Jumping up to your feet in a newly discovered frenzy, you rifled through a box of files that had been offhandedly pushed to the side, and as you flipped through a particular heavy file about dietary needs it was then that it hit you, something so simple and so overlooked - of course Dusk would have been the one to point it out. Your grin was almost manic in its excitement as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place, and you turned to the brothers that had gathered behind you in their confusion. You pulled each of them down by their faces, placing a loud smack of your lips on both of their foreheads and watched their faces glow warm as you called them both a genius. You rushed out of the office, missing exchanged looks of embarrassment - eager to share and confirm your discovery.

It was simple really, so easy to miss in all the confusion of the spatial rift and the ongoing process of integration. It was the food that was making the monsters so sick and riddled with anxiety. Coming from a reality here there had been a significant shortage of food - the first response of the healthier populace had been to feed them, feed them as much as they wanted to eat, it was natural really. Except monster food - magical in nature had high levels of energy, too high for a population of monsters that had been previously so deprived of sustenance. It made their magic run rampant, fluctuate in its intensity with high highs and even lower lows. It was the same in humans, eating too much after starving made the patient sick and would effectively do more harm than good. The answer was right there all along, and you cursed yourself at not seeing it sooner.

Things moved quickly after that, you wasted no time to form a plan of order for a change in provisions, something less straining, human food imbued with magical properties was the natural choice. It would take time for the monster's conditions to stabilize, but after a few days on the new program you began seeing positive results. You had reported your success to the royal family and Toriel had once again summoned you for a showing of your solution. If things went as predicted, the rebuffed population would soon show results of steady improvement, they would finally be prime and ready for the further relocation process.

The queen had thanked you for your service and had shown you a rather unexpected act of kindness in doing so, inviting you over to her rooms for a private tea party where you both conversed not like high mage and ruler, but as two troubled souls with the weight of the world on each of your shoulders. It was pleasant, if not a bit awkward on your part, but Toriel seemed to have a knack for making someone feel welcome.

It was a couple of days before your departure that you had invited the skeleton brothers to your apartment for a celebration dinner, you had surprised them with a meal of your own making. Expertly following the guide of their new diet you had imbued it with your own magic, the fact seemed to fluster the brothers for some reason, but they were unwilling to comment as to the reason why. 

The evening trailed off in shared conversation, and as the hour grew late, the mood slightly sombered, it seemed like both Twilight and Dusk had something they had been meaning to confess for a while now, but it had never seemed like the right time. You had a feeling you knew what it was about - they weren't aware of just how much you knew about their past -you had been pretending to be a high ranking inspector after all, a secret as big as alternate realities wouldn't be handed off to someone as low down the hierarchy as that.

It was then that they opened up to you, a cautious whispered admission of their past sins, sins bred out of desperation and grief. In a moment of your own vulnerability you told them you knew, you knew and understood. You reassured them that it didn't change your opinion of them, you shared gentle words of encouragement, soft admissions of your own grief filled memories. 

You would not judge them for their past, because you saw in them a desperate wish for a better life, a fragile hope that they could learn to become monsters capable of loving themselves. 

Perhaps it was wrong, out of all the people in the world it was you who were the greatest threat to their continued existence. You realized you held their fragile future in your scarred hands, and decided to trust in the goodness in their souls.

[chaotic-iguana]

Twisted Love

summary: as we know, im a bit of a gremlin. i take ur asks and fucking add my own spin. here we are. its like a “joel edges reader, reader accidentally comes” with SUPER dark twists. let me know what you think. feel free to (gently) yell at me because honestly @breakfastatjoels is the only reason i decided to post (love you dee)

pairing: dark! joel x reader

wordcount: 2.3k

warnings: survivalism, dubcon, dark!joel, edging, dom/sub dynamics, pussy slapping, very out of my comfort zone writing this, stockholm syndrome, this joel is everything husband joel is not. hes a dick please dont acc be in these kinds of relationships, swearing (no bc me being a smartass and adding swearing as if its worse than STOCKHOLM SYNDROME), choking, slapping, passing out and keep going, somno? i think?, dacryphilia, he’s a genuine fucking asshole

A/N: please be warned that this is not a vanilla smut fic, it follows some super dark themes. unlike my other fics, no “soft” joel, or aftercare; no checking in or wiping tears. also forewarning, i do not support relationships that are in fact like this. i am not glorifying sa or abuse. dont want any anons in my inbox tearing me a new one. 

masterlist // navigation

Four hours. You’d been tied to the bed spreadeagle for four hours. Your wrists and ankles had chafed, you’d nearly lost your voice, and you couldn’t seem to stop trembling.

Joel had one hand on your stomach, pressing down, and another between your legs, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm only to pull away at the last second to watch you buck your hips into thin air, chasing friction, as your high ebbed away again. And then he would start again. And again. And again.

By now, you were gone. Your mind had long been wiped clean of coherent thought. Broken moans and whines escaped you as you tried to beg despite having seemingly forgotten the ability to articulate yourself - you could barely manage short gasps of breath in between sobs; words were proving to be near-impossible. 

A dizzying chant of Joel, Joel, Joel, took up your mind as he wrenched his fingers out of you once again, just a second too late to accomplish what he wanted. No; in your desperate, hyper-sensitive state, that split second alone was enough to send you into a  spiral: toes-curling, back-arching and your breath coming in sharp gasps as an orgasm that had your vision whiting out for a few seconds washes over you.

Joel glared down at you, the vision barely registering to you past the buzz of euphoria, eyes rolling back as reality faded away. He gripped your jaw then, snapping you out of the daze by bringing a hand down on your cunt, repeatedly striking the sensitive folds, the painful sting heightened by your orgasm. 

 At the pitiful groans of protest and the way your legs contorted against the bindings to fall into themselves; instinct taking over to protect you from his merciless assault, he rolled his eyes with a huff. 

“Y’gonna be a brat? Be a fuckin’ brat. ‘M not wastin’ my time on a girl that can’t behave.” 

Snapping his switchblade open, he leaned down to rip through your restraints before turning and walking out of the room without another word.

That had been a week ago. You had spent an hour curled in on yourself, numb in disbelief that he’d just left. You hadn’t meant to go against his wishes, your body had just taken over and practically pushed you over the edge. You knew the deal-  of course you did, it was seared into your fucking mind- it’s what kept you alive. 

It was an offer he had spat at you with a blade pressed to your neck, a decree that signed your body over to him. He’d let you live and keep you alive, and in return all you had to do was obey him; be his “good little girl”, as he put it. All you had to do in exchange for your safety was listen to him, do what he told you to. 

A paralyzing fear had gripped you since that day you had accidentally defied him, death looming over your head like a guillotine you couldn’t quite see just yet but knew was inevitably coming. 

You’d hated the arrangement at first, resisting it; resisting him. But once he had made it abundantly clear that there was no way for you to leave, nowhere you could go, you found yourself fighting back less. Life had already been so long, taken so much from you already. You’d never have to worry again. He’d keep you safe. Despite his inherent brutality, he took care of you; more care than anyone else had taken since the world went to shit. He made sure you ate enough, slept in better spots, showers. When you had nightmares, he’d set a bruising pace against you and rut until your head emptied of every thought but his. 

Your disdain for him faded over time, and you began craving him. You wanted him under your skin, you wanted to feel him and nothing else, to be reduced to a mindless mess as damp sheets clung to your skin. Wanted his bites and bruises, wanted his grip on your thighs, your waist, your neck. Slowly, you wanted him. A twisted love characterised by dizzying need for him to rip you apart and put you back together infected your mind. To be with you, hold you, praise you. And you were perfect for him as a result, wanting nothing but to keep him happy. 

He, however, hadn’t so much as looked at you all week. If he said anything, it was bit out in your general direction as an afterthought; an inconvenience. It was like he’d stopped caring where you were, how you were. Pent up and needing him, needing to feel the scrapes of his callouses against your skin, his teeth nipping your flesh, you simply endured it all fearfully. Your arrangement had gone on long enough that you genuinely did not know if he would follow through - but you’d seen enough of what he was capable of not to risk it. You may have your own infatuation with the man, but you weren’t stupid. When he stood jaw clenched, shoulders tense, and with that crazed glint in his eye, you did not speak to him; your self-preserving habit of pointing out his tells blaring at you to run. If you so much as stepped too close to him on days like these, you’d see how blown out his pupils were, how his face was set in an expression that made it difficult to identify him, before he’d pin you to the nearest wall and use his mouth, fingers, cock, blade handle, beer bottle and makeshift toys on you until you passed out, and then he’d keep going until exhaustion overtook him. Which, for a man that size, often took over a day. 

So you settled for trying your best to impress him. Wore that dress he liked, did your hair in a ponytail because you knew it made his fingers itch to tug at it, painted your lips with a shadow of red and just followed him like a lost puppy, without stopping or complaining once. Didn’t matter how many gashes you got on your hands and knees from getting your foot caught on sharp edges or rocks he didn’t warn you of anymore, didn’t matter how hungry or thirsty you were with him neglecting to pass the canteen back to you, didn’t matter how badly his biting comments hurt you or how many tears filled your eyes, you followed him without complaint.  

But it had been a week, and your resolve had started to break. If he was going to kill you, he had to do it now. The buildup, the constant fear, the desperation to impress him, the cuts and bruises now littering your body, the hungry ache in your stomach - they all reached a point where your knees just buckled, and you just couldn’t. Joel was ahead of you, still trudging on without so much as glancing in your direction, not even after the pathetic wail that sounded from you as you fell to your knees. Gasping out his name, wincing at the rasp of your voice from the disuse, you watched his steps falter as he looked at you over his shoulder, and kept walking. 

“No, no, no, please Joel, please.” Tears began streaming down your face, your body shaking with the force of the devastation sweeping through you as you began crawling after him. This made him stop and turn, brow raised and mouth set in a cruel smile as he took in your form. He took slow, deliberate strides to where you lay on the ground, elbows given out, and looked down at you. 

“Please, what?” His dark eyes were glittering as he smirked at you, watching you crumble before his very eyes. 

“No more. ‘M sorry, I’m so sorry I won’t ever go against what you say again. Didn’t mean to come - it just happened n’ I couldn’t stop it. I’ve been so good for years, Joel. I’m s-sorry, please I’m so sorry.” Cheeks burning hot with humiliation, you could barely meet his gaze as you began begging the man you’d sworn to kill when you first met him. Begged him to take care of you, to forgive you. 

He crouched low, reaching a hand out to tip your chin up and meet your eyes. 

“Need me?” A jeering, boisterous laugh. “Do ya, now?” At your nod, he snorted. “You forget who’s in control -once, just once - I fuckin’ leave you then and there. Clear?” Another nod. “Take what I give you this time.” Not a question, but you find yourself nodding feverishly anyways, making his lips twitch as he grasped you and lifted you into his arms the rest of the way. 

Joel spotted a cabin while trudging through the rough terrain, your hands around his neck and torso flush against his chest as you hung limp in his arms, half-asleep. Deciding to settle there for the night, he barely took a minute to scout the place out before he was making his way to the bedroom. He dropped you onto the bed before turning to strip his flannel and trousers off. Watching you blink in confusion as you started to wake up, he scoffed, tangling a hand in your hair, flipping you onto yoru back, and yanking your head to the edge of the bed. 

Giving you no time to brace yourself, Joel shoved the blunt head of his cock between your lips, working your jaw open as he starting using your mouth. One of hands came to rest on your exposed neck, putting enough pressure to feel himself moving in and out of your throat, while the other gripped the edge of the bed next to your head, intermittently coming up to slap your tits, your stomach, your thighs - anywhere he could reach. The sounds of your garbled choking and gasping filled the room, Joel using your mouth like a fleshlight. 

Refusing you a single second of reprieve to get your breath, he kept rocking his hips until you were lightheaded and there were spots in your vision, consciousness fading. When he glanced down and realised you were about to pass out, he pulled himself flush against your mouth and stayed there, drool and spit spluttering from your nose as you struggled to accommodate him, struggling against him until you blacked out. 

When you came to, you were lying on your stomach, hair still in Joel’s grip and head held back. Your hands were tied to the headboard in front of you with the underwear you had been wearing all day, and his fingers were bruising your waist in his grip as he pounded into you from behind. 

You could feel that you had lost some time. Come and blood streaked all over your jaw, neck and chest, and you could feel some drying on your back, thighs and stomach as well. Moreover, you were drenched. Covered from head to toe in a mixture of blood, sweat, saliva and cum. You could see skin on your chest and stomach swollen and red, broken by his teeth, which had left permanent indents into the flesh. Blinking steadily, you realised that the sun was up, the room bathed in the first few rays of dawn. 

“Welcome back, sweetheart.” His rasp from behind you had a shudder dancing down your spine, straightening up slightly. You could barely sob your response - the new angle had your eyes rolling back, and you could feel yourself being jolted up the bed by the sheer force of his thrusts into you. 

Feeling the muscles of your stomach tense, you hardly had the rationality to start babbling a half-understandable “Gonna cum, ‘m g-mmh-cum,” before feeling him shift his hand on your hip to move it between your legs, swiping over your clit with just enough pressure to bring you to your peak - before he leaned down to snarl into your ear. 

“Don’t come.” At your whimper, he laughed. “Y’wanna live? Be good f’me? Don’t you dare fucking come.” You felt your muscles lock up, a pitiful whine leaving your mouth as you staved off your orgasm, tensing so hard against it that your whole body hurt. Your legs were shaking with the force of holding off, and you felt Joel smile into your shoulder in approval before he moved his arm under your thigh, lifting it as the strength of his hips snapping into yours increased, making you scream when his fingers returned to your folds. 

He reveled in the wails that were piercing the silence of the room, at the force with which you began convulsing in the effort to obey him. Sucking a bruise into the skin behind your ear, he let you suffer for a few more plunges of his tip into your cervix until he felt his own climax fast approaching, uttering a permissive “Come,” until you were gripping him so hard his vision whited out for a few moments. Watching your hand come around to the back of his head, body trembling as you moaned low and near-pained next to him, he stayed inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and stepping into his jeans immediately, watching you collapse onto the bed from overexertion. 

He just reached across the bed to twist a particularly large bruise between his index finger and thumb, savoring your squeak of fear and the tears streaming down your face. 

“Best get cleaned up quick. We gotta lot’a ground to cover today.” And with that, he was walking out again. At least this time, you knew he’d keep you around. 

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore , @evyiione , @breakfastatjoels  , @millerscoffee dividers by @cafekitsune!! cover by the AMAZING @pedrosaidsheispunk. what a LEGEND. 

[sweetieviktor]

"take me back to the night we met", feat. viktor.

summary: you knew he was dieing, but seeing him using shimmer was too much to bare . based on the song "the night we met", by lord huron.

word count: 720.

content warning: season 1, act 3 spoilers! idk if shimmer use count as a cw, but anyways this is angst and it doesn't have a happy ending!

author notes: there's so much time since i've written fanfiction!! but i loved doind this one and i swear that i cried while writing this. and this may be very ooc and doesn't match the scenes in season 1, act 3, but i dont have time to watch it again now and i was so hyped up bcs of season 2 that i just had to write something, yk? also, there may be some typos or grammar errors even though i re-read this like 3 times i think lol. but yeah, here it is!

you came back to his lab expecting to see him doing good, maybe working on his research, too focused on any stuff he was doing at the moment and not noticing you by the door, but he wasn't in there, or so it looked like.

he was hunched over his desk, in his hands was a glass tube, the remaining of the purple liquid shimmering in the dark room, illuminating just enough to draw his weak silhouette amongst the shadows.

“viktor…?” was everything you said while getting closer to him, walking with slow steps, trying to make no sounds to alarm him.

“stop.” raising a hand, that was all he said.

just as you were told, you stopped on your tracks, observing that, his once perfect hand, was now painted in a shade of purple, the same that was inside the glass recipient.

it can't be. right?

“what you did to yourself?”

“i did what needed to be done.” he was so baretoned, you didn't understand why he seemed so rude, so crude, so… unlike him.

when his words settled in, it felt like your stomach was turning, wrapping itself around your guts, making you sick. you felt sick, for him.

“please, please, viktor, don't tell me that you're using sh-” “yes.”

of course you knew about his condition, of course you knew he wasn't doing good at all, and mostly, you knew that things were meant to end, one way or another. but you didn't think he would kill himself like this.

and this was all you needed to break.

“why you didn't told me? i could have helped you, we could find a way to work through it,” the tears started to prick on your eyes, your voice breaking, the anger at yourself pooling into your core. “you wouldn't need to use shimmer, vik...”

the feeling that the universe stole and took all that once mattered to you was what drove you insane. the feeling that you could make things different, make things better, the oh so simple solution that you could find, if only he had told you.

“it’s not that easy! you wouldn't understand if i told you sooner. no one would understand it, even if they tried really hard to.” he turned his head towards your direction, looking at your face for a brief second, before turning his gaze back to the ground, his purple irises trying to focus on something that wasn't your saddened face, now, feeling his own eyes burning, burning even more than the blood running in his veins. “we are in piltover, the city of progress, and yet, i am stuck behind, and i'm dieing. so, i needed to do something, and i did.”

“what you don’t understand is that you're destroying yourself, viktor. destroying yourself so slowly that it almost feels like torture. i fear that i wouldn't be able to see you for another day.” you sobbed, the tears rolling down and he didn't dare to look at your eyes again, he knew that you were crying. he knew it and he couldn't bear the thought that he was the one that made you cry. “if there is a god somewhere, i wish they could turn back time and take me back to the night we met. maybe things could be different, right?”

looking at him, a weak, nervous smile was all you could get out while crying, thinking to yourself when things started to get this wrong and how you let it happen, without even realizing what was wrong. how could you let him do this to himself?

your body was shaking, it felt like the whole world was trembling. the nonstoping thoughts hammering your head, your heart a mile per minute, the air in your lungs wasn't enough. everything, everything seemed like it was crushing down on you, right in this moment.

“i'm sorry. i'm so sorry... i need to go. now.”

you needed to get out of here, you needed to breathe.

you headed back to the door, wishing that some cold breeze would cool you down, would just stop your mind and racing heart. wishing for him to be fine again. praying for any and all gods that lived in the skies and beyond, praying for him to be alive. just for a bit more.

[ganondoodle]

(while i am crumbling into pieces from cramp pain)

back when they announced the totk masterworks book i said i wasnt happy about it bc it would either

prove they thought all this was good from the start and everything went as planned

show us that they had unbelievable better ideas and plans but for some unknow reason scrapped it all

as it stands now with the concepts i have seen ... they somehow did both, some things seemed to have been planned fro mthe start (the whole focus on sonau/zonai stuff for example, which i personally just dont like bc i liked them better as an unkown mystery you never get to meet) and other stuff (like ganondorfs concepts, or the infinitely cooler castle in the sky esque concepts for the sky islands, instead of some nonsensical, meaningless little stone crumbs) was much, much more interesting initially (together with the interviews that said they initially planned to have the battery be a magic meter and make the sonau more magic than tech- but then decided to build their stuff around modern electrical devices just so players would immediately know what it was an what it would do -why????? thats so boring?? and unecessary ?? and they still give you tutorials for it anyway, multiple times??!!- for some ungodly reason)

it makes me more and more sure that this game, that took 6 years to make with most assets already being there (the same time that botw took to make?????????), went through a similar development hell as that one final fantasy game did where the director decided to make it an entirely different game every few weeks bc he saw something cool in another game-

its the only thing that makes sense to me, why else would it be so weirdly ... unfinished, its full of grand ideas badly executed, or like i said in a previous post, like an alpha build (weird! did someone in charge also see cool stuff every few months and decide they wanted it in there too no matter what so everyone had to scramble to try and put it in making the whole jenga tower fall over and over??), just to test how far you can push things, with placeholders everywhere, the same cutscene pasted in where another should be and a placeholder reason to get players to go soemwhere (fake zelda) and rough ideas for puzzles etc, that was never finished, jsut highly polished (in looks, sounds and presentation) in hopes of it being 'good enough' or players not noticing (like, take the underground for example, the idea itself is fantastic and cool as fuck, but its feels like an idea that was never finished and just barely fileld with some things to try and cover up the fact that it was never done, like a statue that wasnt done being carved but ran out of time so they painted it anyway- take the base map and invert it, put some easily accessible points of jumping down into it in random spots to test if the game can handle it- no time left to actually get that idea anywhere more specific and well thought out/put together, so its left like that, put the same texture everywhere, barely modified copies of the same enemies, and some little reward spots that make no sense, modelling three types of trees and an enemy camp is way quicker to do than actually making an entire new map (they didnt have to make it the same size btw, just make it big but unique caves, put the gravity effect down there in enclosed spaces! makes it less weird to have randomly happen in the sky! etc) but its there!! its in the game and if they are lucky most players wont go down there enough to notice how meaningless and unfinished it all is)

knowing they would most likely never admit to it though, probably bc of their reputation, is just addign to the frustrations i have with it :I

(i just hate to not know the reason for things, if the devs, who are usually the ones being worked to the bone for things they know arent good, where put through that bc some executive big shot threw their tables around every so often or neglected their project bc they wanted to focus on something else first ... id like to know, i dont enjoy making up these conspiracy (?) theories .......... but i cant shake this feeling, its jsut makes no sense)

[lovelyrotter]

okay but i actually kinda wanna know ur take on stridercest being canon compliant O_O <- autism stare

oh hey i am also hitting you with the autism stare. ill try to get my thoughts down in a way that makes sense to more than just me hahaha

bear in mind that im an epilogue lover and i think Meat/Candy are really valuable pieces that further all of the characters and are also hard canon in the sense that we're looking at just 2 post-game universe outcomes out of an uncountable number (the book in the picnic basket representing post-canon fanfic). i think the characters actions in the epilogues make sense and are satisfying to me. yes even jane (i love alpha jane and i will not do her the disservice of 'cleaning her up' w/o showing her work for it. thats not how you depict a character who grew up with fascist programming). i could totally go on a whole tangent about this specifically but thats another post lol we'd be here forever and its also not stridercest

but okay. canon stridercest. under the cut cause it got kinda long

basically it has to do with the cherubs and how their relationships and mating rituals are pretty obviously incestuous leaning even though cherubs dont have the human concept of Siblings or blood family. the cherub who predominates will search across paradox space to mate with another cherub who closely resembles the cherub they predominated which is like textbook Freudian sexuality. theres a lot of Freud and Jungian stuff in HS imo even if im kinda [wobbly hand gesture] at the validity of these theories applied to real life and real people. but theyre super fun tools and lenses to use in fiction and i mean. gestures at all of dave

so the incest aliens cherubs. the whole reason why im talkin about them is bc Caliborn is so incredibly interested and invested in the Striders in particular. caliborn as both Lord English and Lil Cal shapes earth NOT OVERTLY but more so embeds himself in earth society, but again, the Striders lives in particular. dave is full of incest jokes. hes even apparently got a list of his friends arranged in order of how likely theyd incest-elope with each other (thank you epilogues for this amazing factoid). he seems to think about it often enough to, yknow, Do That. have a good solid think about that and construct an organized list about it. bearing in mind dave makes jokes about stuff thats a) bothering him, or b) generally camping out in his brain. hes not even really aware of it most of the time (as we see in one of the openbounds where hes all 'why am i thinking about puppets???' after seeing dirk for the first time in that dream bubble. he is thinking nonstop about dirk at that point and going off his only frame of reference for ANY dirk, which is his bro. his bro who was most likely deeply warped by Lil Cal)

sorry for the long blocky paragraph lol. but now onto the next thing

Caliborn as Lil Cal is the centerpiece in the beta strider apartment. dave cant escape him and beta dirk grew up with him. what the fuck do you do when youre childhood comfort item is also the most evil creature across all of paradox space? if youre a dirk you try to fight it. but how long can you keep fighting something like that. its safe to say that bro was affected by Caliborns particular brand of perversion and sfw kink. i dont think i have to say how insidious abusive and toxic he is about those things. and looking at the truth of beta bro (16yo alpha dirk) you can start to see just how warped beta bro became. beta bro is a false dirk (still a very Real dirk but not the Truth of dirk. beta bro has been toxified and made infinitely worse by an absolute evil influence over decades of life. in 80s fuckin texas. presumably in the system. anyone would be fucked up after that)

so for this analysis/theory im stating beta bro as a false persona. using jungian terms he is apha dirk's shadow

both dave and dirk live with a fake, carefully manicured version of their bros. they live with personas (or shadows of their guardians on the walls. hello platos allegory of the cave). they dont actually know e/o and they dont until the striunion

alpha dirk especially grows up embedded in the Public Persona Of Dave Strider 400 years post mortem and completely alone with unlimited internet access. hes a self admitted expert on his bro and we dont get to see a lot if any of his early childhood but i can hazard a guess at how much he clung to that persona of his bro. he fuckin idolizes dave. he LOVES dave. right off the bat he is in some kind of love with dave and i think if you try to argue against that then thats you slippin. i think youre a fool and have to reread homestuck because i wholeheartedly believe the striders loving eachother is part of the win state

once again this is speculation cause we get barely anything about alpha dave, but from what we already know about him im guessing this bro-persona is

achingly effortlessly cool

oozing masculinity (toxic or not, not really interested in categorizing that although toxic coolboy masculinity IS something the striders contend with & is an important facet in their lives)

a skilled fighter

a dedicated moviegoer (hes a director need i say more. this one is probably the only genuine thing about his on-screen persona)

and now lets look at jake. someone whos grown up on pretty much nothing but movies, whos doubtlessly been influenced by hollywood and its idea of gritty 'main character' masculinity through that, and who also clings to more old-school ideas of manliness (think victorian/edwardian era gentlemanly-but-loves-a-good-scrum kinda manly. moustache twirly with a monocle kinda manly. basically everything that grandpa harley is)

but okay lets look at what jake wants to be. lets take a look at his teenager persona

achingly effortlessly cool (his own 'hollywood star' kind of cool also def influenced by his favourite characters like lara croft who is indeed achingly cool. you see him succeed in inhabiting this hollywood star persona on earth c)

oozing masculinity (the old school manly mans-man kind)

a skilled fighter (two pistoles always. harder to aim cause you cant use a free hand to make up for kickback. that takes skill)

a dedicated moviegoer (again one of the only genuine parts about his persona. his questionable-to-wretched tastes aside. but bearing in mind that the SBaHJ movies are intentionally bad which is what makes them loop around to good. such is the nature of intentionally 'bad' art. jake fuckin lives in this perpetual bad-good art loop. okay enough with the art tangent keep focused man cmon)

because dirk has obviously way more contact with jake i dont doubt he sees through jakes own (admittedly way more flimsy) coolboy persona but the point still stands i think. different flavours but the same kinda guy. dirk has a type and i dont think its a stretch to say that hes looking for aspects of the bro-persona he grew up looking at in other boys, much like the winning cherub looking for the one they lost in the cherub theyll mate with

also wtf is with dirks obvious boner for dave chasing him across paradox space to decapitate him huh?? the last few sentences in Meat are about that very thing. he wants to fuc fight dave sooo bad. haha remember how the cherubic mating ritual is one of the most violent and long running spectacles in paradox space? i sure do