#but hopefully some of you will find it useful for reference sake

[bueckers-sturniolo]

you are in love. (part 2 to the alchemy)

paige bueckers x fem!reader

read part 1 here!

word count: 1,234!

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, drunk!paige, smooching. ALSO, if u listen to the song and read, i skipped around and used different lyrics to make this flow easier and more understandable.

authors note: HI GUYS! i wrote the alchemy 10-ish days ago now, and you guys have shown me so much love and support. i cannot express how happy i am that you guys enjoy my writing :) i hope you guys love, love, love this. i love love love you. part 3 coming soon, hopefully :)

p.s. all of the words highlighted in blue are references back to you are in love. enjoy :)

one look, dark room. meant just for you. time moved too fast, you play it back. buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke. no proof, not much. but, you saw enough. small talk, he drives. coffee at midnight. the light reflects, the chain on your neck. he says,’look up,’ and your shoulders brush. no proof, one touch, but you felt enough.

the night after the game was a blur. well, partly. the team was now at a restaurant-bar type thing. some of you were drinking, some of you aren’t. paige was, which, everytime the team went out, she did. but, this time is… different.

shes always a little touchy-feely when drunk, but, she’s taking it to a whole new level tonight. right now, you’re talking to kk, sitting down, and she’s somewhere taking shots with azzi. you’ve been keeping an eye on her all night, but…. she tends to wander.

you’re currently drinking an espresso martini, even though it was close to midnight and it probably wasn’t the best idea to drink coffee at midnight. but, who cares? it’s fun.

“im surprised paige isn’t attached to your hip, right now.” kk says, snapping you out of your daze with a light-hearted joke.

you chuckle, shaking your head. your gaze meets paige again. she finally locks eyes with you, and smiles lopsidedly.

“holy shit, she’s hammered.” you whisper to kk, and kk laughs, “yeah, she normally gets a little tipsy after a win.” you nod at that, then signal for paige to walk over to you guys.

she makes her way over to you guys, immediately walking up behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder.

“hey, hiccup, killer. what’s up?” paige says, slurring her words. you can smell the alcohol. maybe it’s from the close proximity, maybe she’s just chugging alcohol like it’s spring break. you have no clue, but regardless, it kinda makes your stomach turn. it’s not a great smell.

“just checkin’ on you,” you mumble, turning your face to look at her. she looks at you from the corner of her eyes, smiling slightly. “how much have you had to drink?”

“a few, not a lot…” she says, still smiling. you chuckle, looking back at kk with a ‘are you hearing this bitch lie straight through her teeth?’ look, and kk just smiles.

paige’s hand made its way around your body, then brings it up to your collarbones, fiddling with the necklace around your neck. she hums as she looks at it.

“it’s sparkly.” paige says, her drunk mind being weirdly fascinated with the way the light reflects the chain on your neck. you smile at that, finding it absolutely fucking adorable how interesting she finds this necklace, even though you wear it all the time.

one step, not much. but, it said enough. you kiss on sidewalks,

by the time paige is ready to leave, it’s 1:46 am. the rest of the team had left already, getting bored of waiting for paige to hurry up. but, you felt obligated to stay. so, you call an uber, then you guys stand outside on the sidewalk. it’s december, and it’s extremely cold outside. you and paige stand huddled up to each other, shivering. your teeth started chattering together, and paige couldn’t bare it anymore.

that’s when paige wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into her. it wasn’t really for her sake, at all. it was for yours.

you rest your head into the crook of her neck, pushing your hands inbetween your bodies to seek some sort of warmth. you guys stand like this in silence for a few minutes. then, her drunk temptations started to get the best of her. she gently nudges your face with her shoulder, signaling for you to lift it up.

as you do, she looks at you for a few seconds. you were extremely confused as to why she would take away your sense of heat, and then she kisses you. she kisses you.

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, is your only thought. after a few moments of shock, you decide to kiss back, bringing your hands up to her face. it feels wrong, you feel guilty. she’s so drunk she probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing.

but, drunk actions are sober thoughts. so, fuck it, you think.

as the uber rolls up beside you guys, she breaks the kiss. she then just lets go of you and walks off like it didn’t fucking happen. what. the. fuck. is still your only thought.

you fight, then you talk.

the next morning, you decide to ask her about it. bad choice, but hell, why not?

“so… you just…” you stay silent for a few seconds, “don’t remember kissing me? at all?” you say, getting frustrated. you had no real reason as to getting angry over this, but, you wanted her to remember it. you wanted her to have meant it.

“no, i do not fuckin’ remember it, why is it even such a big deal? friends kiss all the time as a joke.” paige says, shrugging. she’s sitting across from you on your couch right now, and she’s sitting as far as she can. why the fuck is she doing this?

“paige, i just-“ you cut yourself off, running your hands over your face. how do you defend the fact that you’re angry about your best friend not remembering kissing you while drunk? it’s not even that big of a deal, really.

“look, im sorry i did it. im sorry i dont remember. it was a mistake, y/n.” she says, sighing. okay, fuck you too, then, you think. you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, honestly. her saying it was a mistake was something that was so hurtful that it kinda made you have that feeling in your stomach when it feels like your heart has actually dropped down onto it. (does that even make sense? let me know)

now or never, now or never, now or never, you repeat in your head.

you take a deep breath, opening your mouth. then, you close it again. paige is staring dead at you. she’s always been good at just making eye contact with anyone and everyone, it made you kinda nervous. you weren’t bad or uneasy with eye contact normally, but with her… it was different.

“what if i wanted you to mean it, paige?” you say, looking her dead in the eyes.

she stares. all that she can is fucking stare at you. “what?” she mumbled out, quietly. “what do you mean, ‘what?’ its pretty damn clear. what if i wanted you to mean it when you kissed me? i know you were drunk, i understand that. but, what if i have been praying since it happened that you intended for that to happen and the only way you could push yourself to finally do it was when you were drunk off your ass?” you begin rambling out of frustration of her not responding with what you want her to.

you want her to admit that she wanted to kiss you. you wanted her to admit that every time she saw you, it took every fiber and atom in her body to hold back from kissing you. but, she didn’t. she stares at you in shock, eyes wide. in disbelief, even.

“what?”

a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger. anyway, part 3? 😁

[italoniponic]

Bat-Hunter | Rook Hunt & Lilia Vanrouge

Synopsis: In which Rook and Lilia found themselves at the start of a legendary battle for the Prefect of Ramshackle's heart. The world of love triangles is awfully quiet after this exchange. Dedicated to @pandoa. You wish and you shall receive <3

Lilia Vanrouge, Rook Hunt x gender neutral reader / small scenario / fluff but mostly crack / reference to a specific Phillipines dish / 1525 words / use of “you” pronouns / Masterlist

Bat-Hunter: The Magnificent Showdown!

Few people throughout history — between humans and faes — could say that they had the audacity to directly antagonize the Great General Vanrouge in any sort of battle. And getting out of this sort of risk alive was a bit of luck granted to very few people, almost to none.

“But a coward hunter is not worthy to receive the title, nor to wear a hat.”

That was the Hunt family motto that Rook was so proud to carry in his heart. Such was his respect for his family tradition that this phrase was embroidered on the inside of all his hats so as to never forget his origins.

Well, maybe I’m starting a little too fast and you’re still worrying — from the comfort of Ramshackle’s upstairs window — what the hell the two guys you liked were doing on the ground floor balcony, dressed like that.

Despite everything, you suddenly shrugged to yourself and headed to the kitchen where a more urgent task needed to be fulfilled. When everything was ready, hopefully you could invite the guys in. That is, if you found one or the other intact in the end.

Because that was the feeling that their exchange of glances passed.

Lilia was dressed in his Light Music club “uniform,” as punk rock as your father had been in the eighties when he was young and phones were wired. He held his guitar close to him, as if it were the weapon of his days in the Army of Thorns. He was “total rad” — as the youngsters would say.

His friendly smile only masked the irritation of finding Rook in that place, decked out from head to toe. Usually, his presence was easy to ignore and his curiosity could be quite amusing from time to time.

But he knew the real situation they were in: they were equals in rivalry for the heart of Ramshackle’s Prefect.

Knights in a duel for love!

Rook, in his own instance, wore a pair of belted trousers and a loose white blouse — located in the common vocabulary as a “pirate blouse” — with the strange addition of a large pink coat over his shoulders, sewn by hand and with some patterns of blue rhombuses. With his hat in hand, he looked like a book character.

His expression was equally gentle but it carried a certain pang of defiance, like a hunter who meets another while hunting.

“You look very beauté this afternoon, Monsieur Curiosité!,” Rook praised.

“How did you actually say that time? That my beauty is ‘mysterious’?,” Lilia chuckled, squinting his eyes.

“Oui, oui! But do not fret, Monsieur, today my attention is on someone else.”

“Another one? You can’t get enough of it, can you, Hunt?”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, yes. I’m tired. Tired because I’m wandering for days and nights thinking about the smile of that kind person and how I would like to cheer them up in these times of crisis!”

Crisis? Lilia didn’t quite understand. You seemed to be doing very well during all the times you met. Had he let any detail slip through the cracks?

“What kind of crisis? That is,” he bit his tongue, embarrassed that he had to ask for help from his literal rival. “If I may intrude.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. These are ear crisis! Dear Trickster has been hearing a lot of guitars being scratched lately,” the young huntsman replied, boldly.

Lilia barely broke his guitar cable — or the entire instrument at once in Rook’s head.

It was a mere provocation, no big deal. And Pomefiore’s vice, the way he was, probably appreciated each style of music in its own artistic way. But they were dealing with a battle of epic proportions and every blow counted.

Even if he were to call Lilia’s love-hard-heavy-metal demo “instrument-scratching”. But it was worth it and it showed in the way Rook’s eyes squinted in amusement.

Dealing with Diasomnia’s vice has always been an adventure in itself. That was the best part about being Lilia’s romantic rival.

Regardless of the ending, moments like this would always have a special place in Rook’s heart and he would remember it all with emotion when he went to tell your children — “the Hunt Jrs.” — the trajectory of your love.

“Why are you crying?,” suddenly Lilia inquired, confused.

“You will not be forgotten, Monsieur Curiosité! Forever and ever!,” Rook declared, wiping a tear with the sleeve of his coat. “Your memory will be carried forever in our family!”

At this the fae pulled the hunter by the collar of his shirt, staring directly into his green eyes. It was not necessary to float to come face to face with Rook, Lilia had enough dignity to impose himself the way he wanted.

And, let’s face it, making the boy — a “child” in his eyes — literally reach his level was more convenient too.

“Your particular persona has not yet turned gray to be Malleus’ breakfast because I dare, to the best of my mental faculties, find your audacity mildly amusing,” Lilia said with a grim smile cutting across his face.

“I thank you, monsieur. And I, if I may say so, find the bloody-pink in your eyes extremely beautiful,” Rook retorted, torn between fascination and a certain fear instinct that only made him feel more confident in his goals.

“Who do you think you are, hunter?”

“And who do you think I am, bat?”

That said, the two of them started laughing. Maniacally. They walked away but kept laughing, releasing all the anger and tension that could be felt in the form of simple fun between two colleagues.

Oh, they wanted to duel until death ripped them from each others hands.

Fortunately, you opened the door in time to prevent a bloodbath in your yard — after all, it would be difficult to clean it up.

“Hey, boys!,” you greeted, happy. “Wanna come in? I made pancit canton!”

Then you showed them a plate of fresh noodles, straight out of the pan, in a colorful combination of sliced pork, sausage and shrimp along with chopped carrots, cabbage, peas, onions and garlic. It smelled wonderfully good and matched your good mood. No wonder, it was your favorite food from the Philippines.

The sun was setting and it was close to dinner time. In fact, you were so excited about the process of cooking everything — from blanching vegetables to cutting meats — that the serving size tripled. Maybe being busy tidying the house didn’t help your distraction.

But with Lilia and Rook there — and Grim would be happy with extra food — you felt that little slip was worth doing it.

The smile that opened on your face descended on them like a ray of light in the midst of darkness, poetic as a fairy tale.

The animosity in the air was still palpable, however you were simply happy to have the company of your two crushes at the same time and there are times you need to take advantage of some situations.

“Prefect! I composed a song and I would like you to hear it,” Lilia stepped forward, putting the guitar in position and pulling a bombastic sound from the strings.

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t stop an admiring smile from appearing. Outside that your heart was racing just like the Light Music club speakers after a performance by Lilia. He was so cool!

“And I brought the best collection of poems on my bookshelf to recite, sweet Trickster!,” Rook didn’t lag behind and with one movement of his arm, the coat danced beautifully under his shoulders.

Another shot to the heart! As if that were not enough, the shades of the afternoon horizon harmonized perfectly with Rook’s clothes and made him an otherworldly vision, having escaped from a bedside book just to meet with you.

“You two are going to drive me crazy like this��,” you grumbled to yourself. But you did your best to stay intact.

“I just want you to bear with me 'cause I am only one,” you said. “Let’s have dinner first, okay?”

“All for you, sweet Trickster!,” Rook declared, taking your free hand and kissing it.

“A-ah! Okay?”

“What matters is your wish, Prefect,” Lilia skillfully took the plate of pancit from your other hand and also kissed it.

“B-but your guitar...!” He literally had put the instrument between his legs.

“There’s no time for questioning, magnefique apple of my eyes. Forward, my brave rival!”

“Said and done, hunter!”

You were still confused when they managed to find a way to literally drag you into the house, each holding your arms as if your weight was negligible and the situation completely normal.

It was obvious how Rook and Lilia, even if in different ways, could make you go “head over heels.” 

Well, you avoided reaching that angle when they deposited you on the couch and sat each by your sides. At least the animosity was gone and Lilia’s guitar was more securely propped up on the coffee table.

“Dinner, mes ami?,” Rook suggested. “Then a lyrical duel to the death?”

“A what...?”

“That’s fine for me,” Lilia accepted.

And so they lived happily ever after. At least until after dinner.

🦇🆚️🏹

Special Notes: It’s funny or maybe not how I can get drowned in my own work and never make any progress in months but the moment the inspiration for something strikes me as a lighting, suddenly I can pull off an entire 1525 thing in two nights straight. It’s quite simple and it goes more into comedy territory but it’s a homage for your underrated comedy skills, Pando! I still tried my best to make sure both Rook and Lilia could have their times to shine. I based most of the exchange in Lilia’s R Sports Card personal story with Rook (and just got off from that feeling). Have to say, I love a good unilateral passive-aggressive convo and they delivered <3

Now… any similarities of scenes from certain movies are completely my fault. I’m currently having a Die Hard and Kung Fu Panda brainrot, which is weird but it happened.

[sinsandsweetness]

drunk tank- part 2

cw- vulgar language, drug and alcohol use, slight angst and pining for the reader, references to sexual acts. about 2.6k words that aren’t proofread:/ sorry loves.

notes- i started writing and i don’t know what happened. hopefully you guys don’t hate it? way more plot than i intended but… much smutty goodness to come, i promise (no pun intended)

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! i live for your feedback and love hearing your opinions <3

Fuck.

You don’t even want to look around the house. You already know it’s gonna be a fucking mess. You can hear it. Feel it. Hell, you can smell it. Booze and weed and sex. Sweaty bodies packed into a 3 bedroom trailer on the wrong side of town. Coke on the bathroom counter that’ll have you wishing you’d never let Merle move in in the first place.

You stop at the end of the driveway, wondering whether you should even go in. Or if you should get back in the taxi and tell him to take you away and never come back. Go work at some diner in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. Leave everyone else behind.

But Daryl’s face flashes through your mind. You can’t do that to him. Not after all he’s been through.

Growing up with the Dixons was a bit of a challenge. Merle being well… Merle. You and Daryl always ending up in some kind of dangerous and even disturbing situation. Creeps who smelled of Jack Daniel’s, with wandering hands and no sense of personal space. Having to put on a smile for Merle who desperately needed to finish the deal before you could even think about sneaking off to the truck. You were leverage. Sometimes even Daryl. Though you knew he hated it. Fried hair, rotting teeth, meth head bitches who thought he was trash enough to stoop that low. He wasn’t. Or at least he didn’t want to be.

You should go inside and find him. Get him to drive you to Shane’s to spend the night. It’s not like you’ll get any sleep tonight with this ruckus going on. Not after the shift you just had. And you’ve learned to really love Shane’s middle class, suburban townhouse with a California king and a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. It was… different. Unfamiliar. A perfect little escape from the chaos of your typical day to day life. Of your piece of shit trailer that’s already falling apart and definitely wouldn’t pass a health inspection no matter what kind of construction worker you were to hook up with.

Besides, Shane was a good fuck. Not that that’s all that matters in a relationship. It’s not. Merle was a good fuck too. You’re not that hard to please. But Shane is sexy. Charismatic. He treats you like a Princess. And honestly… as much as Daryl makes fun of you for it… you’re starting to really like him. He pays for meals. Takes you out. Isn’t afraid to show you off or introduce you to his friends. And, the biggest part; he’s safe. Steady. A fucking cop for Christ sake. So much different than the guys you’ve been with before. You weren’t at risk of any stray needles or guns when you stayed at his place. The only gun he kept at home stayed locked up in his office and is used strictly for emergencies.

And his sheets are clean and his fridge is full and his best friend is a hunk who happens to be going through some minor marital issues that you can’t say you’re not excited about. For once in your life, things are starting to look up.

Well… not from where you’re standing. Dreading the pounding bass and music that you can already hear pouring out of the windows. Praying that Merle had the decency to lock your bedroom door, but it was unlikely. You pulled a blanket over his passed out body on the couch before you left for work, so the likelihood of him remembering what you gently whispered in his ear was extremely slim.

Be safe. Lock my door. Don’t do anything stupid.

He clearly hadn’t heard you. Or if he did, he didn’t listen. Because the sounds and smells coming from the house as you walk barefoot on the gravel with your heels in your hand are proving to be the latter.

The door is open. Coats and purses thrown about. Stares from the girl and the guy flirting away in the front entrance. Red solo cups in their hands presumably filled with whatever the cheapest keg that your ex could find at the value liquor across the diner. At least that’s what you have to assume. Cheap beer. Sticky and sweaty and- holy shit.

It’s Daryl. On the couch, with a girl.

It’s no surprise that he’s over. It’s not like he has any other place to stay.

It’s the girl on his lap that has you stopping in your tracks. Bright blonde hair and fishnets straddling his thigh. Blowing smoke onto his, thankfully, annoyed and unimpressed expression. She’s almost naked. That’s why you’re so shocked. It’s not like Daryl has ever had an issue getting with girls. But the fact that her skirt looks like a belt and there aren’t even any panties under her tights… well It’s just… a bit of an eye sore if you were honest.

He catches your gaze. The sight of you rolling your eyes at the pathetic little show in front of you. Turning down the hallway and knowing he’s probably already shoving her off and jogging to catch up right behind you. Down the hall and to your room where you’re unsurprisingly forced to kick a couple of sleeping stoners out of your bed. At least they still have their clothes on. Most of them anyway.

“Who was that?” You ask, not turning around but hearing the door latch and lock behind you. Daryl’s smokey, leather scent coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He knows better.

“No one,” he mumbles into your neck, his breath smelling of the rum and coke he chugged and threw to the side before chasing you down the hall.

You can’t help the way you shake him off. He’s drunk for Christ’s sake. Not like he didn’t have a warm and willing body out there on the sofa. Probably desperate to get any of her slutty holes filled and fucked by your childhood best friend.

You slump down onto the bed. Unmade and definitely not from you. The thought makes you wince.

You run a hand over your face and think about the clean smell of pine sol and laundry detergent that now reminds you of the handsome, dark haired officer you’ve recently gotten to know.

Daryl sits down beside you. A nervous tic in his hands as he picks at his cuticle. Unsure of what to say or what to do. It’s not like he should feel bad. He was right, she is no one to him. He won’t even remember her name in the morning. But he still feels a twang of guilt. Wishing you hadn’t seen her string covered cunt grinding on his thigh in the middle of the living room.

“Where are the keys to the Chevy?” You ask, ending the awkward silence brewing between the two of you.

“No way.”

“I’m sober, Dare. There’s no way I can sleep here. Plus I work a double in the morning. Just hand em over.” You turn to face him. He sees the bags under your eyes and knows he should just hand them over. Let you get some beauty rest in officer Walshes big and beautiful bed. Where he’ll be sure to fuck you right tonight and make you a delicious breakfast in the morning before sending you off with a kiss and tap on your perky little ass. But that’s also exactly the reason why he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants to be the one sharing your bed tonight. He wants to make you some scrambled eggs in the morning and drop you off at the diner. Him. Not some asshole cop that fucked you right in front of him at the station a month ago. Hard and fast and really fucking good. By the sounds you were making and the twisted look of pleasure written on your face, it was good. And even Daryl could see that.

“Stay here. Please.” Daryl's hand makes Its way to your thigh.

“Daryl-”

“Don’t. Don’t fuckin- don’t leave.” He’s pleading with you. Can’t stand the thought of you moaning and writhing underneath his burly competition.

“Please.” His voice cracks but you pretend not to hear.

You shake your head. You need a shot. And an Advil.

“I’ll just call Shane.” You reach for your bag, ready to wake the poor guy up to come grab you from the trailer you refuse to let him enter, let alone see. Guess you gotta deal with it tonight.

“Fine- hey-“ he reached for your bag. Stopping you from grabbing the phone you’re rummaging for. “I’ll drive you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I had one drink. Seriously. Look at me.” You do it. Maintaining the heavy eye contact that’s burning into your irises. He’s telling the truth. You can see it. The way he’s holding your leg and the expression on his face. He’s always been a terrible liar.

“Okay. Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, hushed and you know you sound like a bitch. But you’re just really fucking tired.

He pulls you by the hand the whole way out to the door. Dodging the blondie from the couch and pushing your ex out of the way when he sees you, wide eyed and calling your name. Pupils blown and clearly coked out. Part of the reason he’s your ex. Among a plethora of other reasons you’d rather not get in to.

Merle’s truck sounds like shit. Stuttering a few times before it roars to life. A weird clicking from the glove box that you’re just too tired to check out. Smokes and a used condom thrown about the passenger side floor. Unsurprising but still disgusting.

You grab your phone and send Shane a text. Making sure it’s actually ok that you do crash for the night. Not that he’d ever say no. But you want to be polite.

Mind if I swing by? A bit crowded at mine.

It only takes him a few stoplights to answer.

Of course, Princess. You need a ride?

You answer immediately. Thumbs tapping fast on the tiny little buttons of your blackberry.

Nope:) 5 mins away.

Perfect. See you soon gorgeous

You can’t help the smile creeping up on your expression. Curling on your glossy lips and catching the attention of your best friend in the drivers seat.

“Pfft-” he rolls his eyes, turning the corner a little sharper than you’d like.

“Oh, shut it.” You snap back. Daryl has never liked any of your boyfriends. You don’t blame him. Most of them were real pieces of shit. Using you for your body. Your money. Not that you had much to spare.

Merle and you never dated. Just a couple drunk hookups that you didn’t enjoy.

Daryl never liked that either. Knowing his brother had seen the most sacred parts of you. Touched you and held you and watched your eyes screw shut as you came all over his cock.

Daryl wishes he could be the only one who’s ever seen that. The only one who knows the sounds you make when you’re close and the way you’re breath hitches when he kisses that spot on your stomach. It fucking kills him. Thinking about you gripping Shane’s dark hair while he discovers that same exact same spot. Going lower and lower until you’re squirming and writhing and-

“Dare?” You repeat. Grabbing the attention of the scowling young man who’s gripping the steering wheel like it’s about to fly away from him.

“Huh?”

“You missed the turn.”

“Shit, sorry.”

He circles around and shifts into park. Right across the street. The tree in Shane’s yard blocking the light from the front porch.

“Thanks,” you say dryly while reaching for the door handle. Ready to crawl into a warm bed. One where the only sound that enters your ears is the crickets in the backyard and the soft inevitable snoring from the handsome deputy holding you nice and close.

“Wait, just-” Daryl’s hand grabs your shoulder and pulls you pack. Snaking His hand around the back of your neck and crashing his lips against yours. Leaned right over the middle console to pull you in even closer. Tongue tracing your lips and deepening the kiss. The faint taste of tobacco and the familiar warmth of his mouth clouds your judgment. Kissing him back despite your relatively steady and semi-serious fling waiting for you on the other side of the red door across the street.

You pull away, eyes still closed and resting your forehead against his.

“Dare…”

“It’s fine.” He whispers. Nose nudging your own as he connects your lips for one last kiss that lingers just a couple seconds too long. A pained, broken look in his ocean eyes passes through when you finally pull away and scowl.

“Don’t. You can’t- you don’t get to do that.”

His jaw clenches and you’re sure he wants to spit some petty ass insult at you. Years of daddy issues and unresolved anger issues catching up to him with every little argument that crosses his path. But he finds it in himself to bite it back. Well not entirely. Just… a little less vulgar.

“Wear a condom,” he sneers, pulling away and falling back against the headrest. A deep sigh leaving his lungs as he chews on the inside of his lip. Already regretting his comment both due to the sheer cruelty of it but also because of the subtle admission of jealousy that he would fucking kill to have flown right above your head. It doesn’t. But the crimson painting his cheeks tells you he really fucking wishes it would. So for his sake, you ignore it and mutter a goodbye as you hop out and shut the car door. Heels clacking on the cement while you make your way to the front porch. Duffel bag in hand and a flutter of butterflies starting to swarm around in your belly.

You don’t even have to knock before the door opens and you’re met with the scent of a musky cologne and those beautiful brown eyes looking you up and down. Plaid pajama pants and a clean black tee shirt pulling you in for a quick embrace as he eyes the old Chevy still idling across the street, Daryl inside, ensuring you actually made it into the house.

“Hey, beautiful,” Shane kisses your cheek. Eyes still fixed on the man gazing over from the tinted truck window.

With a strong, guiding palm on the small of your back, you brush past the officer and head on in. Giving him a moment to set the alarm and lock the door behind you. Oblivious of the way Shane decides to wave at Daryl. Sending him a silent thank you for dropping you off all safe and sound. And maybe a very slight reminder of what he’s about to do to you as soon as that door closes.

And though he doesn’t see it, whether it’s from the tint of the truck or the clouds blocking the moon in the middle of the night, Daryl waves back. A pained, stomach dropping, shaky little wave that he didn’t even really want to return.

Daryl drives home as it starts to rain. Windshield wipers scraping on the cracked glass in front of him as his mind wanders, thinking about how nice it would be to stay in one of the nice, picket fence, suburban homes you’ve always wanted. Thinking about you in a big backyard, sipping on some white wine with a chunky little toddler on your hip. Your husband flipping some burgers and talking to the neighbors about football or the weather or the preschool you’ve been scouting.

It hurts his heart that in his little daydream, it’s not him who’s standing there barbecuing on that deck. It’s not him making small talk with your coworkers or reaching for the babbling little kid in your arms, asking for his daddy.

It’s Shane.

And for a split second, even though it physically hurts his heart. He knows that Shane can give that to you. And that, that simple little revelation is the whole reason he knows why he needed to wave back.

-

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee @virtualreader @lust4lovee @fanngirl19 @movidita @flomrpus @summergirl37 @dylanisstilladumbass @dixonslvr @aangelbabysworld

taglist form is in my pinned post- let me know if I’m missing you<3

[sincerely-sofie]

Chapter 6 of Sofie Plays "Slay the Princess": The Princess and the Hero (Round 2) + The Witch

Gotta experience 'em all!

[ Beginning ] - [ Previous Part ] - [ Next Part ]

I meant to pick up the blade but misclicked and entered the basement. Even so, we got some new dialogue! Pretty sure I needed to pick up the dagger to get a new Princess, but I might just continue this route for the sake of flavor text :>

Asked the princess warily what we would do if I couldn't find a key to free her, and she whipped out the "Maybe we could cut me out of them! :)" idea so fast guys I'm having flashbacks,

THE FLASHBACKS ARE INTENSIFYING

Don't worry, Princess! I'm sure we'll figure out a way to get out of GOOD GLORY NOT AGAIN. PRINCESS I HOPED YOU WERE KIDDING ABOUT CUTTING YOURSELF OUT OF THE CHAINS. COULD YOU HAVE WAITED A SECOND UNTIL THE KNIFE POPPED INTO THE ROOM SO THAT IT COULD BE A LITTLE LESS GRUESOME?

*cartoon dog voice* This is fine :)

Hey, Narrator? What the FRICK do you mean by that? Mister disembodied, no-hands-having, secret-keeping voice? Are you going to drive me mad with constant demands that I kill the Princess? Too bad that I'm not going to. Hopefully you can manipulate the environment somehow to make the basement collapse on us, because I'm not going to hurt---

... Oh.

New chapter. I guess.

I can already tell I don't like my new brain buddy.

THE MIRROR IS BACK!!!! aaaand it's gone the second I try to clean it. We aren't getting any mirror selfies today.

Oh my worrrrrd Opportunist you sleazy, conniving kiss-up. Ughhhhh

GEE WILLICKERS, NARRATOR IT'S ALMOST AS IF I TELL PEOPLE THE WHOLE TRUTH, UNLIKE CERTAIN CHARACTERS WHO SHALL GO UNNAMED.

At the very least, there isn't any dismemberment involved this time.

NARRATOR! THERE'S ANOTHER WEIRD CAT IN THE BASEMENT!

Is the achievement title a reference to that fable about the Frog and the Scorpion?

Welp. She's playing chicken. We're stuck down here. I decided to just accept it and wait.

Just realizing that the narrator has a capital H when referred to with third person pronouns, and I'm too busy noticing the red at the edges of the screen to consider it for very long.

Alright. The cabin has vanished around us. Is it time for arms to erupt from the aether and absorb the Witch?

Huh. Very anti-climactic.

What the HECK does "you've grown" mean?????

Okay, okay. the Long Quiet is definitely a location. But I'm not convinced it isn't also a character of sorts. It feels like it has some kind of goal, but I can't tell what.

It's the start of a new chapter, and I chose to leave the cabin behind me this time. I kept looping back around to the cabin, but surely I got turned around or something in the forest. That's normal. I'll just keep trying.

THIS IS NO LONGER NORMAL.

OKAY THEN. SEE YOU IN THE NEXT POST. I GUESS.

[stardustluvs]

I would love to see a Karl x Foolish fanfic where Karl is riding Foolish’s thigh while he plays video games. Maybe Karl was in the mood in the middle of Foolish playing some games, so they compromise!

Almost Caught - Karl X Foolish

MDNI

Word Count: 1,045

Pairing: Karl Jacobs x Foolish (established)

Summary: Karl gets himself worked up over fanart, it’s too bad his boyfriend is busy playing games with his friends…or…is it?

Warnings: NSFW, Thigh riding, Almost getting caught, Foolish referred to as Noah, Punz is also mentioned/referred to as Luke

Author’s Note: I adore this request and had SO much fun writing it!

Requests are open! || masterlist

Karl groaned as he scrolled on his phone in bed. He’d been mindlessly liking fanart on twitter for like half an hour now. A lot of him and his friends, and a lot of him and his boyfriend.

His fans were creative, to say the least. They were so very talented. He hadn’t realized how long he must’ve been scrolling because he started to find fanart from accounts that he otherwise probably wouldn’t have paid close attention to.

NSFW fanart accounts.

These accounts had taken time and effort into making absolute masterpieces of him and his friends. He couldn’t help but cringe a little at some of the “ships” that people had come up with, drawing him in sexual relationships with people he’d never even pictured in that sort of light before.

Then, there was the art that featured him and Noah.

Even some complete accounts dedicated to NSFW art of the two of them.

Karl knew it wasn’t necessarily weird for him to look through it, for fucks sake they’re dating, but it gave him such a feeling of excitement.

His mind created little stories to go with each piece of lewd fanart that he scrolled past. He hadn’t even realized how much this affected him until he was subconsciously grinding against a pillow he had been mindlessly cuddling.

“Fuck..” He cursed under his breath, the pillow not providing nearly enough to what he so desperately needed.

He looked at his phone again, switching apps to text Noah.

“Are you busy?”

He stared at the phone screen for what felt like at eternity.

“Playing val with Luke, why?”

Karl rolled his eyes, unsatisfied with this answer.

“Need you.”

Waiting…

“Come here then.”

That provided a rush that was sent through his body quickly, excitement filled his head as he stood up to go to the other room, where he would be able to hopefully find relief.

Upon entering the room, he could see his boyfriend sitting at his computer. He wasn’t streaming, thank God.

But, he was on a discord call. He muted himself and turned to Karl, beckoning him over. Karl obeyed and walked over to Noah who pulled him down onto his lap.

“You can use my leg to get off, but you have to be quiet,” Noah said softly, even though he was muted on his call anyway.

Karl let out a shaky breath at the realization that Noah wasn’t going to get off of his call. He would continue playing with his friends, with their friends, who would have no idea of what was happening on this end of the call.

It gave Karl an even bigger feeling of excitement. He nodded as he adjusted himself against his boyfriend’s thigh.

Noah waited a moment for Karl to get comfortable before unmuting on his call.

“Sorry, I’m back,” He said, resuming his gameplay as though nothing had happened.

Karl started to grind down against his boyfriend's thigh. He set a steady pace for himself, trying his best to keep quiet.

How on earth Noah was able to continue playing like nothing was going on was beyond Karl.

Karl sped up a little bit, his hands moved up to rest behind the other’s neck, playing with his hair softly.

In his head he had silently been begging for Noah to just fuck him, whether he muted his call or not, he just wanted him, so fucking bad.

He’d listen as he would bicker with Punz over something that had happened in their game, not that Karl was paying attention to that or anything, too focused on trying to get off to care what anybody was saying.

Noah pushed his leg up ever so slightly into Karl, helping him gain just the slightest bit of more friction.

Karl couldn’t help the whine that left his mouth. One of Noah’s hands moved from his keyboard to grab one side of Karl’s waist, holding him in place slightly, also as a warning that he needed to be quiet.

“What the fuck was that?” Karl could hear the question through Noah’s headphones.

It should’ve been terrifying, but God, it made him wanna be louder.

“What was what?” Noah asked, giving Karl a bit of a look before putting his hand back to his keyboard to resume playing.

Karl could hear the confusion in Luke’s voice though muffled and quiet.

Thankfully, the conversation passed and it had been forgotten…until Karl made another noise.

This time might’ve been just a tad more on purpose than the first time. Noah was starting to get worried at how suspicious Luke had to have gotten, trying his best to play everything off as best he could.

That’s when Karl had a bit of a fun idea, he grabbed a little at Noah’s hair and pulled.

“Shit-” Noah groaned, accidentally.

“Bro what the fuck are you doing?” Luke laughed.

Karl couldn’t help but giggle softly to himself. He knew he was being a bit of a problem, that was the fun part. He started to grind down harder into his thigh, his breath catching as he got closer to his release.

The way Noah was unable to give an adequate answer to Luke had to have been madly suspicious, and Karl, knowing he was the reason, was absolutely obsessed.

"I'm not doing anything," He lied through shaky breaths, his hands leaving his keyboard once more to grab Karl's waist.

He helped Karl grind against his thigh, having to bite down on his lip to keep from making any noises. There was just something about seeing Karl in this sort of light…

“I’ve gotta go, talk later,” He said quickly before hurriedly leaving the discord call and pushing his focus completely onto Karl.

“Mm..fu-uck,” Karl whined now that the coast was clear.

His noises became more frequent and high pitched right before he came, riding out his high.

When he calmed down, he leaned against Noah, catching his breath.

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble one day,” He mumbled, thanking god that he was able to leave the discord call when he did.

“Mm… ‘s okay, I can help you now though…” Karl grinned, getting up off Noah’s lap and on his knees.

Thank god he left that discord call.

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 3- The Letter

Summary: The US Navy had fled allowing the Japanese control of the sea, leaving the marines to fight the battle for Guadalcanal alone. They were vastly undersupplied, and many were on the verge of starvation and some at the mercy of malaria. As thousands of Japanese reinforcements poured onto the island, Kate, Blanche, and the boys were strafed and bombed relentlessly. It was during these harsh times Kate found herself becoming closer to the guys and in a constant state of worry when Hoosier isn't where she could hear or see him. 

A/N: Mature audience, BillHoosierSmithx!FemMedic, WW2, OC/Kate Danaher, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO The Pacific References, Mentions/Descriptions of Death, Blood, Weaponry, Smoking, 💚Very small Band of Brothers cameo quote…if you blink you might miss it💚

Story takes place Episode 2 Basilone Chapters 1-5

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real Marines the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction* 

~~~~~~~ 

Guadalcanal 

September 1942 

“What’s wrong with him?” Sgt Stone asked Kate while she kneeled over a young marine. 

She had been holding a thermometer to the man’s mouth, and when she removed it, it read 105. 

“His temp is 105. He’s clammy and sweating bullets but says he feels cold-has to be malaria, sarge.” Kate finalized with a frown. 

Sgt Stone shook his head, “He’s the fifth marine to catch this shit.” 

“He won’t survive here if he stays. I don’t have anything to treat him with since that cruiser sank with all the supplies we needed.”  

Sgt Stone nodded, “I’ll try to arrange for transport if it’s available. We’re pretty much on our own out here.” 

Kate nodded, “I’ll do what I can for him, sir.”  

~~~~~~~ 

H Company was due to push forward the following day upon hearing D Company making contact with the enemy some 15 miles ahead. The men were instructed to police their gear to be ready by 0500 the next morning for the convoy. Around sunset, Hoosier scavenged beyond the camp for anything palatable to bring back to his buddies and himself for dinner. 

Leckie, Runner, Chuckler, Sid, and Gibson sat in a 7’ by 8’ foxhole they had dug for all of them to fit in. 

As darkness engulfed the island and thunder rolled through, Hoosier returned with chow. 

“Supper’s on, supper’s on.” he announced as he jumped into the hole. 

“Anything good?” Gibson asked hopefully. 

“What are those?” Runner asked skeptically. 

“Army rations from 1918. Quartermaster at Dog Company claims they’re edible-” Hoosier began as he handed each of them a small, unmarked package of food. 

He noticed the look of disgust stretching across each of their faces as they tried biting into the stale hard-tack crackers that were stiff enough to crack their teeth. 

“-after you suck on them for about an hour or two.” Hoosier added. 

“This is all you could find?” Chuckler asked. 

“You fuckin’ forage next time.” Hoosier spat back. 

They all begrudgingly continued to eat. 

Kate appeared kneeling over the edge of their foxhole. 

“Hey, guys. Just making rounds. Everyone doin’ ok?” she asked. 

“Yeah, just havin’ some dinner while Leckie reads us his letter to his girl back home.” Runner replied playfully. 

“Who said I was writing to anyone?” Leckie retorted. 

“Come on, you can tell us. Go on, read it.” Chuckler pushed. 

“We’d do it for you.” Runner added. 

“Guys, leave him alone.” Kate chuckled, knowing it was all in good fun. 

Leckie shook his head and returned to writing on his pad of paper. 

“So, you guys are ok, then?” Kate reiterated. 

They collectively responded, “yeah yeah,” knowing she’d keep on them until they answered her. 

“Ok, good. Make sure you keep hydrating, too. See you guys later.” she reminded them before standing and walking off. 

“Speaking of girls; how’s that bet going Hoosier?” Runner asked. 

“I’d say I’m in the lead.” he stated assertively. 

“That’s because I’m giving you a head start! She won’t be able to resist me once I’ve unleashed my charm on her.” Chuckler countered. 

“Yeah, and he’s a Corporal now! The ladies love rank.” Runner pointed out. 

Hoosier scoffed, “Yeah? Well, I don’t think she’s that type of girl. She’s not impressed by the number of stripes on a marine’s sleeves.” 

“How would you know?” Chuckler asked. 

“I had a little visit with her yesterday. Sat and talked to her for about two hours sipping on that shit Jap wine that we had left.” Hoosier revealed. 

They all stared at him waiting for him to continue, but he remained silent knowing the anticipation was killing them. 

“And!?” Leckie prompted. 

“And she told me she was only here to do her part for her country by keeping us alive. No matter what I said or did to “charm” her, she went right back into talkin’ about medical mumbo-jumbo or about her two brothers in the 101st airborne,” he paused, “she’s actually real smart.” Hoosier explained. 

“Well, maybe you just don’t got it like I do.” Chuckler returned. 

Hoosier laughed, “Have it at, pal, I’m tellin’ ya, she’s a tough cookie to crumble. She doesn’t melt over the same things most dames do. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”  

“We’ll see!” Chuckler shot back confidently. 

~~~~~~~ 

By midafternoon the next day, H Company caught up with D Company, setting up outlook posts about a mile away in case the enemy approached. With an entire battalion in the same area, a proper aid station was available with tables and cots to tend to the wounded and sick. There was also a chow tent serving hot meals which none of the men have seen in weeks. 

Hoosier, Leckie, Chuckler, and Runner sat in a semi-circle with their plates of hot rice. 

“I hear the army finally landed.” Leckie shared. 

“Nice of them to join the party.” Runner stated sarcastically. 

“They have no idea what they’re walking into.” Chuckler added. 

“Yeah, well word is they came with loads of crates filled with some good shit.” Hoosier voiced. 

“Oh yeah?” Leckie asked, his interest piqued. 

“Maybe we can get at some of that!” Chuckler suggested. 

“If you do, see if you can get some clean bandages, and some morphine. And get me some goddam scissors, I can’t get any.” Kate requested as she walked past the group after hearing them scheming about the army supply delivery. 

“Yes, ma’am!” Chuckler confirmed enthusiastically as he shot a cheeky grin at Hoosier. 

Hoosier released an exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes at him, 

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Juergens.” 

~~~~~~~ 

As the Army staged the dozens of wooden crates and drawstring laundry bags on the beach, an air raid siren sounded off alerting the men of an enemy attack. The newcomer soldiers, unaware that the siren was signifying the attack on the airfield and not the beach, started running for cover leaving the boxes and bags unattended and up for grabs.

The marines waiting in the brush of the jungle like predators waiting to pounce, watched as the last few soldiers disappeared before they took advantage of the situation. 

Platoons of marines scattered out of the tree line like roaches, breaking open boxes and foot lockers, and dumping bags to grab what they could before the army came back. 

Hoosier found a good-sized crate with a red cross insignia painted on it.  

“Has to be scissors in here.” he thought outloud to himself. 

He looked around and found a crowbar lying on the ground. Snatching it up, he got to work on opening the box. As he removed the final nail, he pushed the cover off revealing an assortment of medical supplies to include cases of morphine and first aid kits.  

Hoosier scanned the area around him, “Hey Runner! Come here!”  

Runner trotted over to him and looked into the box, “Nice, you found the medic supply.” 

“Help me grab a few of these, will ya?” Hoosier asked as he handed him a couple cases of morphine.  

“Why don’t you ask Chuckler?” Runner teased as he tucked the box under is arm. 

Hoosier laughed, “You snooze, you lose.”  

Runner snickered as he grasped the handles of three syrette cans in his right hand while slinging a sack filled with tactically acquired treasures over his left shoulder. 

Leckie ran over, “Here! Throw some of those in the bag so we can carry more back.”  

He presented a large empty duffel bag for Hoosier to throw more syrette cases and first aid kits in. 

“Perfect.” Hoosier commended. 

As he tossed as many as he could into the bag, the army rushed back shooing the marines away. The marines took off running towards their camp, each cackling triumphantly at the soldiers behind them. 

~~~~~~~ 

After the excitement settled down, Hoosier, Chuckler, Sid, Gibson and Runner sat in a more secluded area of camp shifting through the prizes they obtained. Leckie sauntered up while carrying his drawstring bag of goods, sporting his new pair of moccasin slippers to the foxhole as a campfire kindled.

“Anything happen while I was prospecting?” Leckie asked the group outloud. 

“Betty Hutton stopped by giving out blowjobs,” Hoosier replied, “What’d you get?” 

Leckie took a seat on the log and showed off the items he got. While he was handing out cans of peaches to the guys, Kate approached them. 

“Hey, guys, did you hear that the army was looted during the air raid earlier toda-”

She stopped a few feet behind Hoosier as Chuckler was waving a can of peaches at Runner who had been sitting by the tree line with his pants down dealing with a bad case of diarrhea. 

“Peaches? I’ve got the goddam runs, and you had to get peaches.” Runner hissed at Leckie. 

“They were all out of cheese, Runner.” Leckie called back. 

The puzzle pieces started to come together as she looked over the scene in front of her. She noticed Leckie with a pair of comfy patent leather house shoes on, the multiple cans of fruit, and the brand-new M-1 rifles next to each man where they sat. She watched as Leckie excitedly carved an opening in his can, eager to eat the peaches and drink the nectar inside. 

“Uh, Bob, you’ll wanna take that slowly,” she cautioned, “you haven’t had real food for weeks, you might-” 

“I’ll be fine, Ace.” Leckie insisted cutting her off. 

Not at all heeding her warning, he inhaled the peaches and sugary liquid from his can. He slowly lowered it looking suddenly alarmed and pale, apparently regretting his hasty decision. He began gagging as he rushed over not too far from where Runner was and vomited the peaches he just consumed onto the grass in front of him. 

Runner laughed at Leckie, pleased and entertained by his misery. 

“Ugh, I told you, Leckie.” Kate pointed out with her hands on her hips shaking her head at him. 

The others sniggered as they slowly ate from their cans so as not to end up like Leckie. 

“Well, I was going to ask if you guys heard the air raid siren earlier, but I assume you did.” she continued as she crossed her arms in a motherly fashion. 

The guys responded with a collective, “Mmhm.” 

She waited, her lips pursed together as she scanned each of them with skepticism to see if they’d own up to what they had been doing during the air raid. They remained quiet, hanging their heads as they avoided eye contact with her while eating their peaches. She already knew, though. She just wanted to see if they’d confess without her outright asking them. She shook her head again, deciding it best to let it go. 

“Hey, Ace-” Runner called out to Kate, “my ass is killing me, can’t you do anything about this??” he begged. 

“Is there blood?” Kate asked invasively outloud in front of the guys. 

Runner’s eyebrows creased together inquisitively, “Huh?” 

Kate huffed irritably and walked closer to Runner, “Is there blood in your stool?” she clarified, speaking slowly. The others groaned in disgust, each placing their cans down. 

“Um-” Runner looked over his shoulder, “-no.”  

“Ok, good,” she stated as she turned on her heel to walk back, “When you’re finished relieving yourself over there, come see me. The nurses over at Dog Company gave me a case of sodium solution that can help that.”   

Kate walked past the group, “Enjoy your haul, you hooligans.” she said with a playful smile, winking at Hoosier as they made eye contact when she passed. 

Leckie slumped back onto the ground across from Hoosier, “When are you giving her the morphine and shit?”  

“Tonight.” Hoosier affirmed. 

“No way! You found her some morphine? What about bandages? And scissors!? How!?” Chuckler asked genuinely befuddled when Hoosier nodded. 

“Simple, I looked for it.” Hoosier responded smugly as he leaned back on his elbows. 

The guys laughed as Chuckler grimaced, resentfully drinking more juice from his can. 

~~~~~~~ 

That night as Hoosier was preparing the aid kits and morphine to bring to Kate and Blanche, fire clouds exploded in the distance and were steadily progressing closer towards them. Japanese aircraft’s were heading towards them dropping bombshells in their wake.

Whatever man wasn’t under the safety of cover dove into the nearest foxhole they could get to.

Enemy aircrafts soared over H and D Company posts, relentlessly deploying one bomb after the other as they passed. Multiple men shouting to take cover, and some crying out in fear, there was nothing they could do other than wait it out. 

The following morning, every marine across the camp that wasn’t injured or stuck beneath the sand was either digging to find survivors that were buried alive or carrying the wounded to the medical personnel. The entire site was in shambles with Jeeps destroyed and burned to a crisp while fallen palm trees lay across where the men’s foxholes were, trapping marines' underneath. 

The hustle and bustle of the aid station was never ending. Kate and Blanche along with a few Dog Company medics and a couple of nurses scampered from one man to another trying to keep them alive while able marines brought more wounded on stretchers. 

“Put him on that table there!” Kate directed to the men who brought another marine with a wound to his right leg. 

Kate rushed over, “What do we got?”  

“Right thigh wound. He said shrapnel impaled him after one of the explosions went off right by him when he was running for cover.” one of the men explained quickly. 

Kate tore through the pantleg to get to the wound. She knew right away by the saturation of the blood that the artery was severed. 

“Blanche! Bring me gauze, sulfur and bandages! I need to pack this, NOW!” Kate yelled across the floor. 

Blanche hurried over with what Kate needed, unraveling the long bandage and opening a bottle of sulfur to clot the wound. Kate balled up the end of the dressing, pushing it down deep into the gash packing it as tight as she could. The man shrieked and bawled, kicking and grabbing at Kate to escape the torture. 

“Jesus, hold him down! I can’t do this if he’s moving around like that!” Kate bellowed. 

The two men that brought him in pinned him down by his arms while Blanche secured his legs by his ankles. Kate layered the bandage hard into his wound, then when she couldn’t fit anymore, she placed a padded bandage over the top wrapping the ends snug around the thigh tying it down to maintain pressure. The bleeding had finally stopped. 

Kate took a syrette and injected it into the meatier part of the marine’s shoulder. 

“Take him over there where the rest of ‘em are.” Kate panted as she weakly motioned over to the treated casualties, recovering in the shade of a hanging tarp. 

“You doing ok, Kate?” Blanche asked. 

Kate nodded, “Did you see Sid?”  

“No, thank goodness,” Blanche breathily replied, “What about Hoosier?”  

Kate looked at her shocked, “Well, no. But I haven’t seen Leckie, Chuckler, Gibson, or Runner either.” she added.  

Blanche raised an eyebrow at her best friend, “Honey, I know you fancy the man. You don’t have to hide it from me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re-” 

“Ssshhh...” Blanche shushed Kate placing her fore finger over Kate’s lips, “your secret is safe with me.” 

 Kate scoffed at her then rolled her eyes, “We got more work to do.”  

She turned around and made herself busy with the next injured marine. 

~~~~~~~ 

Kate sat alone behind the rickety medic shelter, taking a minute to let her brain rest by closing her eyes and humming a tune quietly to herself. The hum of her voice slowly became words as she sang the song softly outloud.  

“There you are.” Hoosier’s voice came crashing through Kate’s tranquil thoughts. 

Kate gasped as her heart and body jumped from surprise. 

“Bill, you have GOT to stop sneaking up on me like that!” she told him clutching the front of her uniform. 

Hoosier chuckled, “I am sorry, I really don’t mean to.”  

Kate released a long exhale, “Glad to see you’re ok, though.” she admitted looking up at him through her eyelashes as he stood over her. 

“You, too.” he returned. 

Kate blushed, smiling weakly as she looked down at her lap. She looked behind him and noticed a dog sniffing around.

"Looks like you got yourself a new friend." she acknowledged.

Hoosier looked over his shoulder, "Yeah, after all the bombings last night this little fella slipped into our foxhole, so I grabbed him. Hasn't left my side since." he explained.

The dog looked up at him as if he knew Hoosier was talking about him.

"He's adorable." Kate cooed.

“I have something for you.” Hoosier declared. 

“For me?”  

“Yep. But you need to close your eyes.” he instructed. 

Kate narrowed her eyes in suspicion, “Why?”  

“Trust me.” he insisted grinning proudly. 

Kate clicked her tongue at him but closed her eyes as he requested. 

“Hold out your hand.” 

She presented her hand palm up in front of her.

"Stay." she heard him command to the dog.

She felt his calloused palm gently slip under hers. His surprisingly tender touch sent electrical currents up her arm and through the rest of her body. She almost wasn’t able to contain her shudder. 

Just then, she felt a hard slender object placed on her palm as he slowly removed his hand from under hers. 

“Ok, you can look now.” Hoosier told her. 

Kate opened her eyes, face to face with Hoosier kneeling right in front of her, his eyes as blue as the water behind him. She looked down at her hand to find a pair of scissors.  

Kate’s eyes widened with excitement as she smiled at him. 

“You got me scissors!” she squealed throwing her arms around his neck pulling him into a hug. 

Hoosier chuckled as he loosely embraced Kate around her torso, “Yeah, I found a crate full of first aid kits and morphine and grabbed you a whole bunch of ‘em.” 

Kate leaned back looking at him in disbelief, “You did?” 

Hoosier nodded, “Leckie and Runner helped, too so we could get as much for you as we could. I brought them over and left them by the aid station for you. There are at least a dozen scissors over there so you’ll never run out of them again.”  

Kate’s heart almost rocketed out of her chest.

“You didn’t get anything for yourself while you were out there?”

“Nah, I don’t need much.” he dismissed.

She beamed adoringly at him and pulled him back for another hug. 

“You missed your chance to get something for yourself to get me what I needed? Thank you.” she whispered to him.

He squeezed her tighter, “Of course.” he purred back. 

They pulled away slowly, still smiling at eachother. Kate patted Hoosier’s shoulder before standing up. 

“I’m going to go take a look at those kits before anyone tries to get their mitts on them.” Kate proclaimed as she headed towards the casualty collection point. 

Hoosier fixated on Kate as she walked away. He was lost in a daydream relishing the feeling of her pinned against him when they hugged. It was the closest feeling to home he’s felt since he got to Guadalcanal. 

Kate stopped and turned to Hoosier, “You comin’?”  

Hoosier snapped out of his trance and clumsily scurried over to join her for the walk back to the aid station. 

~~~~~~~ 

As D and H Company fixed up the camp as best they could, they returned to foxholes to keep watch of the line. Col Puller (known as ‘Chesty’ to the marines) disclosed intelligence that the enemy was going to try to take Matanikau which was south of the airfield where the Americans currently had control. Most of the battalion was to join the 5th and 1st marines there to help defend the coast road into the airfield to maintain that control. This meant that Dog Company would be entirely alone on the front lines as they relocate to sector 3 of the island. H Company had their own orders. 

Hoosier and Runner were tasked to set up a listening and observation post 30 yards inside the treeline. While they were gathering their weapons and gear, Kate walked up with two ammo cans in her hand. A look of concern appeared across her face when she saw a tired rough looking Hoosier with his dog and Runner packing up gear behind him. 

“Where you two going?” she asked. 

“We’re settin’ up a little less than a mile that way along the perimeter.” Runner replied pointing in the direction they were going to be heading. 

“Oh?” Kate queried. 

“Yeah, the Japs decided to go around us to hit the airfield. We got the first watch for two hours at sunset.” Hoosier explained. 

Kate looked down at her boots inadvertently kicking at the sand, “I see.” 

Hoosier stopped what he was doing to look her over and noticed what she had been holding. 

“Whatchya got there, Ace?” he asked gesturing with his head at the small metal boxes. 

Kate’s breath hitched in her throat as she looked up at Hoosier, “Oh-” she looked back down at the cans perplexed like they just appeared in her hands, “-it’s for you guys. I figured you’d need these more than me and Blanche.”  

She walked closer to Runner and Hoosier handing them each a container. Runner opened the can and saw stacks of crackers neatly packed to the brim. Hoosier looked into Runner’s can, then beamed back at Kate. 

“I heard you guys traded your saltines for the peaches and figured once you ran out of fruit you’d need more rations in the field. Good thing I caught you before you two took off.” she remarked. 

“You’re giving us your food?” Runner asked utterly surprised while Hoosier gaped at her. 

Kate’s eyebrows drew in together, “Of course. Someone’s gotta take care of you boys.”  

Kate averted her eyes to Hoosier.  She blushed seeing he had been gazing at her the whole time, his lazy smile and droopy blue eyes, ready to worship the ground she walked on.  

“We’re so lucky to have you.” Hoosier muttered. 

“Yeah, thanks, Ace!” Runner said as he ascended into the cubby hole shelter they all built to share the fresh crackers with the rest of the group. 

“Anytime, Runner!” Kate called out. 

Hoosier, still smiling, walked towards Kate, leaving very little room between them when he reached her. Kate hiccupped when he stood inches from her, looking up at him with her sparkling green eyes. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” he asserted. 

Kate grinned, “I know. You guys would do the same for me and Blanche.”  

Hoosier’s smile widened, “Absolutely.”  

“I have one other thing,” Kate stated as she dug into her dungaree pocket, “-here.” 

She held a sealed envelope with the name ‘Bill’ written in cursive on the front. He took it from her and as he looked it over, he realized he didn’t recognize the handwriting.  

He looked back at her, “Who’s this from?”  

Kate laughed, “Me, silly!”  

A smile returned to his face, “But why?” 

“Well, I heard you saying something about Leckie having a girl back home to send letters to and that you didn’t. So, I wrote you one.” Kate explained. 

Hoosier’s heart melted, practically becoming a puddle at his feet. He looked back at the letter smiling so hard his cheeks started to ache. 

“Well, thank you Kate Danaher. That’s about the nicest thing that any broad has ever done for me.” he admitted. 

“Glad to hear it. Oh, and you should wait to read it when you’re feeling crummy during one of your watches. It’ll cheer you up.” she insisted. 

“What if I want to read it now?” Hoosier asked with a mischievous smile. 

Kate laughed, “Defeats the purpose of me writing it for you! It’ll be worth the wait, cross my heart!” she promised as she drew a crisscross over her chest with her fingers. "-And when you do read it, you'll have to write me back. Those are the rules."

Hoosier was absolutely mesmerized by her childlike innocence. 

“Ok, I’ll save it.” he pledged placing the letter in the breast pocket of his uniform. 

Kate standing on her tiptoes snaked her arms over his shoulders pulling him into a hug as his arms instinctively embraced her pulling her flush against him.

“Please be careful. Both of you.” Kate whispered. 

Hoosier’s heart pounding against his ribcage had his chest heaving as his strong hands kneaded Kate’s upper back. He nodded, agreeing to her request. 

“Promise?” Kate implored. 

“I swear it.” Hoosier reassured; his voice low and calm like a song to Kate’s ears. 

~~~~~~~ 

[thesoulshyperrealaslacreatura]

Drakenier: Violence as expression and affirmation - Pt.1

It has become a rather well-known piece of trivia (or at least, well-known within the niche internet circles I flow through) that 2010's Nier Replicant / Gestalt had its overall message thoroughly inspired by well, 9/11 - the discourse that produced it, that came of it, and became it. Although it may not be a direct quote, "to kill someone, you don't have to be out of your mind, you just need to believe you are correct" is a sentiment clearly echoed throughout the game; as the many layers of its central and side conflicts drop alongside the curtains to its second, third (and maybe kind of fourth) playthrough, so does what had, for quite a ways into the game, seemed like a story mostly about finding, nurturing and protecting a community - people to call home.

However, the statement above seems to somewhat conceal-so-as-to-merely-hint-at what I'd argue is a much more complex argument the games lay forth, when looked at as one series. I, myself, have found it difficult in the past to distill both Replicant and the wider series as a whole into one coherent message or thematic frame; partly (and beautifully), because there mustn't be one - this singular reading which eclipses the broad range of experiences that people have come to share with the series - such an idea is preposterously reductive. Still, I think that this mish-mash of "the game is about philosophy and tragedy and nihilism and existentialism and society and humanity and life" and whatnot misses a bit of where the different themes intersect, producing further instances of meaning from the text. I hope to discuss the evolution (were I to sound even more pretentious, I might have used the word genealogy, but I would never stoop to that) of a few central concepts surrounding drakenier's "philosophy of violence" and where they seem to have informed or have been informed by other aspects of the works.

Strap in, because just from writing the introduction I can already tell this is gonna have to come in multiple parts. Hopefully my writing can steer away from boring you to tears throughout all of it.

Spoilers for the whole series!

Part 1: Replicant, and the subjective experience gained from that funky 9/11 fun fact

"Blood is sound, sound is words, and words are power"

This quote, almost a chant from Weiss as the player starts to grasp the gameplay loop of attacking enemies to allow for magical attacks, ties in the game's teaching of that system with what I consider to be the most powerful writing from Replicant (I'm going to refer to it as Replicant for the sake of convenience, obviously Gestalt is included in that). And it is deeply tied to what Taro himself has credited as a major source of inspiration for Replicant in relation to his previous game, Drakengard.

In some ways, Nier Replicant isn't introducing a new, foreign idea over the original Drakengard, so much as bringing out new elements from within its predecessors' critiques of the gaming landscape. Though that only really becomes clear by taking future foresights the series would reach into account; this is the point at which it becomes prudent to ask ourselves one question - how might the game's design regulate the player's interaction with the game world? (A question that, if you're at all even familiar with Drakengard, you probably already know the answer to)

From this, we can extrapolate a lot of meaning from how the original Drakengard was conceived: a game about violence, from the perspective of people who were so immersed in their own awfulness and the general precarity of their world that they cannot enact anything but that same violence. And it is that violence which comes to define them.

I'd also like to do the pedantic thing and bring up the fact that violence can be thought of as more than just physical harm, but also in terms of violation. In that sense, when I claim that Drakengard's characters are defined by violence, I mean it in that their reduction of other people to objects serves as an exertion of themselves - the Dynasty Warriors inspired combat of cleansing battlefields as the only win state reflects back at Caim as his only method of building an identity of his own, one based on strength demonstrated from conquering his enemies. You might find that these 'enemies' are violated the moment they're placed into the game as props that sustain its overall narrative.

In fact, this 'loss of personhood as self-affirmation' theme reverberates into another key factor of the game's story: pacts. They explicitly deprive humans of something of themselves - their ability to communicate, to see, to age, to have hair (sure????) -, and reduces both parties into one shared essence, yet it is what permits its characters to have strength through which they find themselves as able to inflict that dehumanization onto others. Dehumanization becomes their characterization, both from the audience's perspective as well as in-world.

Following that, Nier Replicant does not dispute that destruction of the other simultaneously inflicts upon the self both corruption and affirmation. If anything, it only takes measures to strengthen that sentiment, in light of how the added theme of perspective brings forth a need to now more closely study the subjective experience of perpetrating violence. Thus:

"Blood is sound, sound is words, and words are power"

The gameplay system I've anchored this analysis to comes into play; attacking your enemies gives you the literal strength to continue your offense, by design - ridding them of their life force, their blood, perpetuates the narrative, the words being built, the sealed verses of a prophecy you've set for yourself: that of being a hero to your sister/daughter, friends and general community. This even extends to the lyrics of Ashes of Dreams:

"Are we the plaything of fiends or merely the dreams that we're telling ourselves?"

Though we shouldn't forget that Weiss' comment takes the form of X=Y=Z=W, and it seems I've neglected the 'sound' part of the sentence. As I was writing this, my brain immediately made the association between that and Drakengard 3's focus on the power of Song, which, in fairness, definitely was made with the rest of the series in mind - but, in this instance, that sounds like a bit of a lucky coincidence. Still, what the concept of sound brings to the statement doesn't seem too far off from what meaning could be made at a bit more of a general, rudimentary level, that being: our lifeforce (blood) translates into our ability to be heard (sound), thus effectively giving us narratives about the world around us (words), which gives our actions direction, purpose (power).

From that, we can take a closer look into a lot of different aspects of the game. After all, the reason I proclaimed this piece of writing to be so powerful isn't really because I could - and did - stretch its interpretation to its fullest, but also from the way it manifests itself around the struggles of various characters, while being tied to the game's overall systems and world. Emil receding into his identity as a weapon in order to redirect what he sees as his curse onto those who seek to harm his friends - leading to his sacrifice; Weiss, who also goes on to sacrifice himself, does so in the name of putting an end to this now 5-year mission, grown into his own center of existence; Louise, perhaps reacting to the world around her, saw humanity as something to claim from others, and faced erasure upon perceiving herself as incapable of acquiring it. For better or for worse, the moral codes characters create from their own intentions of living become rigid scripts to follow as self-fulfilling prophecies of their own identities.

We can see that, ultimately, characters across both games tend to follow journeys with a general structure of: bleak circumstances > feeling of powerlessness > violence as a misguided means of reclaiming the power to define oneself > entrenchment in violence becomes overbearing, coming to annihilate the very self which sought to instigate it. From the first Drakengard to the first Nier, this hasn't changed a bit. What changed is a distinct awareness in how the self, or what we might call "us" stands in conflict with the generalized other, "them", and where it uses morality as a catalyst for smoothing out the uncomfortable edges of that conflict.

In fact, the annihilation of the self as, paradoxically, an act of self-affirmation is the very core of ending D for Replicant. And this is, partly, where the inciting 9/11 quote comes into play - given our newfound empathetic understanding of where violence comes from, how do we process it? How do we make sense of it? From the way the world is established, the very act of surviving, for both replicants and gestalts, is somewhat tainted as immoral, and predicated on the erasure of an 'other'. It leaves room for later material to find itself more at ease with this question (and those circle back nicely to ending E from the new version, as well). For now, most of what the game feels comfortable in concluding comes from Kainé, who stands in contrast with most characters by fully rejecting the notion of being a moral agent throughout the entire story, yet the game still offers us the chance to save her - it, mirroring the protagonist, relentlessly believes in her. Not even that "she can be better", whatever better might mean, just that "she can be".

And obviously, finally, we can extrapolate plenty of social commentary from this. Playing off of the thematic material introduced in Automata, we could argue that Replicant's plot is, in retrospect, about slowly building up to the depiction of a certain "Death of God" - which, in nietzschean terms, is not merely society straying from religiosity, but represents an irreparable shattering in the very idea of a centralizing narrative that everyone could subscribe to and fit within. So ends humanity, not just as a species, but as a concept; no longer are people able to identify themselves as containing some unified essence of 'humanity', recognizing the other as a complete self in its own right, as they retreat into the violence that was inflicted against them, which they inflict back at the world - to have your totality reduced to a role in a play that the winner gets to write. And in that sense, I'd argue it captures specific facets of a post-9/11 climate pretty well.

Anyway, gonna make a separate post that's just about Drakengard 3, and then one that's just about Automata, but at a later time!

also, this thesis becomes more relevant when the time comes to analyze automata, but it was still helpful in having me think through the previous games, so I'll drop it here as a reference for now, and will mention it more loudly once we come to specific sections later (not about to be the next target for hbomberguy lmao): http://dspace.library.uvic.ca/handle/1828/14525

Cool that there are people writing about it!! Thank you Xinlyu Tan, the goat!!! Would love to go through more material, but I'm writing this for fun on the side... hope anyone reading this has enough fun with it to go looking for more on their own, go extend the discussion further, blah blah blah. Also hope that I make any sort of vaguely coherent point. And, lastly, I hope you enjoy yourself!

[tremendouskoalachild]

Wookiee Jedi: A History

Wookiees. Jedi. Wookiee Jedi. How could you not love them? I’ve decided to compile a hopefully exhaustive little list of all Wookiee Jedi in Star Wars, canon or not. They are ordered chronologically by their introduction and sorted by decade.

The 90s or: Lowbacca, a category of his own

The first Wookiee Jedi in Star Wars was Lowbacca, nicknamed Lowie, introduced in 1995. He was Chewbacca’s nephew and one of the principal characters in the Young Jedi Knights book series, where he trained as one of the students at Luke’s Jedi academy alongside Han and Leia’s kids. He remained a quite frequent side character in later books, especially the New Jedi Order series.

Lowbacca was literally and figuratively exiled in the Dark Nest trilogy (2005) after Lucas banned Wookiee Jedi (we’ll get to that). He did appear in books since then until the cancellation of the now-Legends timeline, although less frequently than before. His appearances in late-stage Legends content are usually related to Wookiees and Kashyyyk specifically, rather than as just another Jedi knight, and mostly reserved for Troy Denning’s novels. Important fact to know about Lowie: I love him.

The 2000s and The Ban

The early 2000s saw the introduction of several Wookiee Jedi, although always as very minor characters. The first one we need to discuss for completeness’ sake is, no joke, Unidentified Wookiee Jedi. We know next to nothing about them: they appear briefly in the background of a 2000 book as a student of the new Jedi Order. This is contemporary with Lowbacca’s time but due to other storylines we can rule out that this Jedi is him. I suppose you can decide for yourself whether this is a simple continuity error, or a random background character used to characterize the setting of Luke’s Order as a harmonious multispecies organization (while utilizing a well-known Star Wars alien species).

For more senior – and named – Jedi we have Master Tyvokka, member of the Council, introduced in 2001. He appears in the flashbacks of a single issue of the Republic comic line by John Ostrander, though he is mentioned in several following issues. He is technically canon despite only appearing in the old continuity due to a mention in reference to Plo Koon, who was his student in both continuities. I think he’s cool for the simple fact that he used a yellow lightsaber. We know Lucas was familiar with the Republic comics (he famously incorporated Aayla into the prequels) but it isn’t entirely clear how much of them he read.

Next we have RPG Wookiees. Master Kirlocca was a prequel-era Jedi in the campaign Living Force, which started in 2001 and concluded in 2007. He has appeared in many installments and supplementary materials of the campaign but never outside it. Living Force also “introduced” Wookiee Jedi Knight Vorlocca as a corpse players find in one of its adventures. Whatever, he counts. (the RPG also introduced Force-sensitive non-Jedi Wookiees named Kuce and Furellas, who is notable for being a lady.)

At some point in the early 2000s Lucas banned the introduction of more Force-sensitive Wookiees. Apart from Lowie this affected Hanharr, a member of your party and playable character in KOTOR II. The devs were supposedly not allowed to include the option of making him a Dark Jedi for this reason. When working on ROTS, concept artist Derek Thompson "wanted to try at least one Wookiee Jedi on the off chance that George would go for it. He didn't go for it."

The 2010s or: maybe we can get Wookiee Jedi again?

Quite possibly the most widely known on this list is Gungi, the first Wookiee Jedi we’ve seen on screen. He made his first appearance in a 2012 episode of The Clone Wars’ fifth season as one of the Jedi younglings gathering crystals for their lightsabers, in an arc that was at one point considered for its own spinoff. He has since also appeared in The Bad Batch season 2. His nature as a Wookiee Jedi is specifically referred to as rare by Huyang and since Lucas was still involved in making the show at that time we can assume he either went back on his distaste for furry Jedi by then, or wanted Gungi to be all the more unique.

Also in 2012 – suggesting Gungi’s introduction might have loosened the ban – we have another comic Jedi, Ruhr. More accurately, he was a Je’daii, a predecessor organization to the Order we know. He was part of the Dawn of the Jedi series, also by Ostrander for Dark Horse. That series ended 15 issues in because the comic rights were transferred to Marvel after the Disney sale, so no more Ruhr.

We also absolutely have to mention Kitmum. She (!) is not canon and never was – unlike the other books and comics discussed here her 2013 book was explicitly non-canonical even before the impending canon reboot of 2014. We love her for her outfit, teaching children how to exercise, and being the only girl Jedi on this list.

The 2020s and the High Republic, golden age for Wookiee Jedi fans

Star Wars publishing over the last several years was largely focused on the High Republic initiative, which is so far a great time for Jedi Wookiees (or, more accurately, for their fans – the Jedi are not doing so good), with more to come soon in The Acolyte, set in the same era.

The first and most prominent is Burryaga Agaburry, one of the principal characters in the adult novel trilogy in Phase I, introduced in Light of the Jedi (2021). He is both a POV character in his own right and the best friend of the main teenage Jedi in the adult novels, Bell Zettifar. Apart from the novels he appears in the audio drama Tempest Runner and is often mentioned or shown in the background of many other High Republic projects. He is also one of the characters most often depicted in children’s media of the era, probably due to his adorable cuddly appearance. His fate in the wake of Phase I’s ending was a major cliffhanger leading into Phase III, leaving the readers hanging for over a year and a half. You love Burry.

The other major Wookiee Jedi in the High Republic multimedia project is Arkoff, technically first introduced in the same book as Burry due to a single mention of his name in a list of notable Jedi. He is the teacher of Lily, herself the protagonist of the Edge of Balance manga, and appears more notably in the manga’s prequel volume set 150 years earlier during Phase II. Ah, the advantages of Wookiee life expectancy.

2023 saw the introduction of Krrsish, an initiate in the flashback sections of the Yoda comic. He has a hard time.

The first Wookiee Jedi in live action is set to be Kelnacca in The Acolyte. He is played by Joonas Suotamo, the actor who took over the role of Chewie for Solo and TROS. He’s also getting a comic one-shot by Cavan Scott later this year!

I can't wait to meet him.

[thesoulesscollection]

Random Choc Kinsley Hcs

Sorry if it's been a while since I've posted much of anything. So here is a fun post about my boy, Choc.

I had a lot of fun with this one so it's a long post of Hcs. Hopefully it's fun and makes sense. May think of more to add on later 

Is well known (infamously so) for his voice primarily his laugh that carries throughout the room no matter how big or small that said area is. Unnaturally loud and booming, done deep in the chest.

^ Very contagious, literally so anyone who is nearby or just the type that is more susceptible to it will eventually end up following suit until exhaustion kicks in for them or him

^ Naturally quick to laugh. Has an awful and cheesy sense of humor (ie. Similar to dad jokes. Plain awful) and will laugh at the blink of a hat at anything

^ It's more a bodily tick he does in any sort of situation that does or doesn't call for it whether he is happy, sad, stressed, tired, angry or etc. He'll start laughing away to release the pent up tension rumbling inside him

Does fidget a whole lot so it's pretty rare to see or even keep him in one place for too long as he feels the growing urge to be all over the place. Is often referred to a 'hummingbird' because of this

^ To combat this or simply find a way to relax for not just his own sake but for everyone else's as well, Choc either needs something to constantly chew on squeeze in his hands

^ Another thing he doesn't enjoy is the odd and empty feeling in his hands like he needs to hold something or it feels wrong. The feeling itself can be often described in his words, tingly goosebumps under the skin

Choc is an organized man, and within his free time (mostly to keep himself busy) will do his best to rearrange everything in his office, other's as well, or the main room that contains their important files to his specific liking. 

Has a big ol' sweet tooth. The type to have sweets always on his person to either snack on or give out to others. Sometimes doesn't even notice as a few pieces drop out of his pockets when he goes along with his day. So don't be too surprised if you see some lingering around in spots he's been at.

Randomly picks up small, odd trinkets found along the way of his visits or during raids with the Toppats. Places them in his pockets then later coincidentally forgets about them.

His fighting skills are quite unique and are unable to be picked up on by others. He's quick and light on his toes to the point that for many it's difficult to keep up.

Most hand to hand combat are his deal, a swift learner and keen observer of his opponent so watch out before he uses it against them.

^ One of his unique moves is done by his hands and fingers. Where if hit right can lead his opponent to lose function in whichever extremity he pinpoints. More attune to non-permanent paralyzation at best that can last for either a few minutes at the least or worse, hours for the other person

^ From his decades long experience as enforcement for the Toppats he's trained himself to use such a move sparingly and knows how to correctly use it without serious damage. 

^ Though to a mildier degree, he can pick up anyone by the scruff of the neck with surprising strength and precise care and they will instantly go limp in his hold

^ Due to this, Choc is very good with his hands, knowing his way around a good message when the times calls for it. 

A social butterfly, the life of any party, who gets along smoothly with everyone with the rare few exceptions such as his sister, grandmother, or Reginald. 

[eyeballth3vampire]

Ok so, since I keep seeing no one talk abt her uh… don’t mind me, I’mma just rant abt Cherri bomb and stuff bc why not >:]

Cherri Bomb imo, should’ve had A LOT more to her design and I mean A LOT

Now although Cherri’s design is not as bad as the others (well her Design is decent ‘ish but just rarely), ever since I first saw her design I always felt underwhelmed by her design especially now.

There isn’t really much to say other than the usual colors blend in problem and such

But imo I find this redesign to be quite lazy because this literally just her design in the Addict Video, and I just wonder, why? Could viv not think of anything creative when redesigning her after the addict video? I ask bc there is literally so many ways viv could’ve made Cherri’s design to look very cool and unique! Like yea, I know this is viv who we’re talking Abt and her creativity can only go oh so far BUT STILL!!!

“But Kat! What could viv add/change Cherri’s design to make her more ‘unique’?? After all you can’t change perfection-“

DON’T. TEST ME.

Like I said there are literally MANY GODDAMN WAYS viv could’ve made her design more unique! Infact, I can literally share some ideas I have / things that would’ve made her design better

1. Literally changing her Outfit.

Like do I even have to explain????? Her outfit is absolutely hideous and imo doesn’t suit her like AT ALL. Her Outfit is literally a bunch of ripped clothes with the most atrocious colors I’ve ever seen. Her outfit would’ve honestly been more cooler if she had Punk attire! It would Honestly fit with her personality really well! Like REALLY REALLY well! And if viv doesn’t know how to design characters with punk attire then there are LITERALLY endless amounts of references of punk outfits that viv could use when she was designing Cherri and these images are not just any references of punk fashion but rather punk fashion that was LITERALLY FROM THE 1980S!!! Y’know, THE ERA SHE DIED IN??

HECK, THIS OLD REDESIGN I DID OF CHERRI (that I plan on updating after I finish making this post with a bunch of other redesigns I’m doing) CAN LITERALLY BE AN EXAMPLE ON HOW PUNK CAN FIT CHERRI’S PERSONALITY REALLY WELL!!

LITERALLY THESE ALT OUTFITS SHE WORE IN HER LONG GONE INSTA ACCOUNT ARE ALSO GREAT EXAMPLES OF THAT TOO!

If viv used one of these outfits as her main one that would’ve been fine too! Like yea I would at first question why viv chose one of these outfits but other than that I wouldn’t be as pissy as I am with what we got bc it fits her character.

2. Make her have doll elements or som idk

Ok. I know what y’all are gonna say.

“Kat. Why do you want Cherri Bomb to be a doll? Velvet’s literally right here.”

Uh huh, I know that but like hear me out on this

I feel like Cherri being a literal doll could honestly work imo! Heck, if Cherri was a doll, the weird anatomy she has can literally go in viv’s favor! Since dolls most of the time don’t really have realistic bodies, like literally look at this thing if ya don’t believe me

But jokes aside, I do genuinely think it would be an awesome idea! I mean there are literally many dolls out there (even dolls from her era too), that viv can use as references if Cherri was gonna be a doll too! Cherri can literally be a punk rebellious version of Barbie for all I care (I mean like cmon are you gonna tell me that wouldn’t be so cool?)

She doesn’t even have to be specifically a doll either if viv didn’t want make her one, she can literally be an action figure too! (Unfortunately I can’t show anymore images bc I’m a the limit for adding photos in one post but hopefully you get idea)

3. GIVE HER A DIFFERENT FUCKING COLOR PALETTE FOR FUCKS SAKES!!11!1!

Blah blah blah Cherri’s palette as mentioned before in this post sucks!

But the thing that bugs me most in her color palette is literally the gradients in Cherri’s hair

Like every time I saw Cherri pop on screen in the hh pilot (and I do apologize if I sound dumb), the gradients on her hair would change ALOT to the point it kinda felt inconsistent…

The only time the gradients in Cherri’s hair felt consistent was in the addict video but that was only bc viv had to LITERALLY SIMPLIZE her hair so the animators wouldn’t have an hard time animating her god damn hair (kinda wished she did the same with the rest of the designs but oh well)

And that’s all I could think of (for now), if anything I can prob just make reblog to add on to this post, Uh Ty for reading this critical rant post thingy I have going on, I’mma go to bed it’s literally 3am for me rn at the time of making this and uh idk bye ig

[j-nipper-95]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thank you for the tags @artsyunderstudy @iamamythologicalcreature @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @theearlgreymage and @ic3-que3n

I am definitely procrastinating on both my WIPs at the moment. Trails is back in limbo, and ASR has taken up permanent residence there recently, and I desperately want to get back to both of them. Here's hoping this will kick start something in my brain! I do love a good Q&A, so let's dive in!

1. 🦈 Tell us the name of your/one of your WIP(s):

I have two WIPs I am actively writing, and one I haven't started on yet, but desperately want to. The Trails We Blaze was my Carry On Through the Ages 2023 fic, and is a The Road to El Dorado!au. Then there's my original novel, A Survivor's Revenge, which I've been writing for far too long and it definitely needs to be published soon!

2. 🍄 Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of "___ + ___ = ___"

Ok, this is much harder than I thought it would be, there's so many elements to each of these WIPs, so bare with me.

Trails: con men in 1920s London find map to Atlantis + WW1 trauma + gang warfare + repressed romantic feelings = friends to lovers action, adventure, and chaos across western Europe that's probably been too intensely researched for the sake of historical accuracy

(Side note: this isn't how I thought I'd use my degrees in history and archaeology, but here we are!)

A Survivor's Revenge: marvel cinematic universe + James Bond = ASR

or - what would happen if Bucky wasn't brainwashed by Hydra and sought revenge on the scientists who experimented on him, was a 14 year old school girl instead of a grown man, and had elemental powers + MI6 super spies and the general aesthetic of a Bond movie = a stab first/ask questions later FMC willing to do whatever it takes to keep her loved ones safe (and I do mean whatever it takes - Lauren hasn't baulked at anything I've thrown at her yet).

3. 🌍 What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it.

ASR will definitely need some trigger warnings for violence (if only because of Lauren's penchant for it), and if it were being posted to AO3 the series as a whole would probably require a 'main character death' warning. This is your formal warning, no one is safe in my writing.

Trails is rated M, so there's not going to be anything too graphic or explicit, but it does have a PTSD tag, as the fic tackles both Baz and Simon's trauma from living through the First World War, and specifically Baz's claustrophobia. So I would probably warn about the panic attacks and discussion of how Baz became claustrophobic.

4. 🧭 An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

Neither of these had alternative titles other than my save names (Spy Novel and SnowBaz fanfic) before I decided on anything. I'm useless at coming up with titles, and I can't really claim full credit for either. A friend from uni came up with A Survivor's Revenge, which is really fitting, as revenge is a major theme in the book. And The Trails We Blaze is a reference to one of the songs from the movie The Road to El Dorado, and was Ashton's suggestion when we were bouncing ideas back and forth last year.

5. ⚠️ Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Trails will definitely be finished before ASR, purely because ASR is going to be published as a proper book, and I don't have the cash to do this independently, or the publishing deal to do it traditionally. So I know this will take time. But I am currently working on the next chapter of Trails, so hopefully it won't be too long before I can post it.

6. 💾 What is your document of your WIP/a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you've saved it as)

I have so many variations of both WIPs it's ridiculous. I swear there's been 100+ iterations of ASR over the years, all with variations on either A Survivor's Revenge/ASR or Spy Novel as their title.

With Trails I have my base document, which is where the rough first draft happens, in Scrivener: the trails we blaze - draft copy. And then I also have my final document in pages, where I fix the formatting ahead of exporting to AO3 (because AO3 hates it when I do it straight from scrivener and gets rid of all my italics!): the trails we blaze upload copy.

7. 🖍 Post any sentence(s) from your WIP.

This is probably one of my favourite exchanges in the first ASR book.

“Just like old times,” Lauren said. “Tell me, did you consciously decide to make my PTSD worse by assigning him to me, or was that a happy accident?” “What’s the diagnosis?” Vanessa asked, ignoring Lauren. “Fractured ribs, minor internal abdominal bleeding, concussion, and three broken fingers. She needs to rest for at least a week,” Todd said. “She has a name,” Lauren muttered. “The internal bleeding is minor for the moment, but won’t be if she doesn’t rest.” “Who’s ‘she’ in this, the cat’s mother? I am here, you know.” “Yes, and whilst I would love to trade witticisms with you, I do actually have a job to do. Part of which involves divulging a diagnosis, and pardon me if I feel certain people in this room are going to be more receptive and actually take my advice when I give it.” Lauren glanced at Vanessa. “Is he always like this?” “Just with patients. And most of the people who work here.” “So, everyone?” Vanessa thought for a moment, then bobbed her head from side to side in a movement that said Pretty much, yeah. “If we’re quite done discussing my conduct, I do actually have other patients who need my attention.” “Poor sods.” “Yes, of course,” Vanessa said, ignoring Lauren’s comments. “Have you got a treatment plan sorted?” “I’m nothing if not professional.” “Did someone switch the definition of ‘sarcastic asshat’ and ‘professional’ in the dictionary when I wasn’t looking?” Todd twisted ever so slightly away from Lauren, instead focusing entirely on Vanessa.

8. ♻️ A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

Initially in ASR Lauren was framed for the murder of a student, alongside releasing the main villain from prison (not a spoiler, it's literally in my synopsis, no worries there!), and afterward she was forced to go on the run. Essentially, it made the heads of MI6 and Lauren's best friends into her enemies for a few chapters of my drafts a couple of years back. I loved this idea, and genuinely want to implement something along these lines again, because it was an interesting position to put the characters in, but I also really love where the plot is taking them currently, so we'll see if it truly ends up remaining scrapped or not.

9. 🤔 What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?

Another original novel, this time firmly rooted in science fiction (no superhero/light fantasy elements here), where time travel is possible, but the super anxious MC refuses to use his powers to travel back in time because of the side effects of said power. Gay romance, anxiety, angst, all the good stuff!

10. 🤡 How many WIPs are you actively working on?

I'm not too active on either of my WIPs at the moment. Work's been crazy lately, and I flip between feeling super burnt out creatively and being too tired to do much. But Trails and ASR continue to be my most active WIPs.

11. 🛠 Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

In Trails I've hit an intimate scene, and my little ace brain doesn't know how to approach it! Plus, I don't know how far I can stretch the M rating before we enter E territory.

12. ❤️ Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

All of the kudos to everyone! I wish there was a way to leave it more than once, because seriously, the CO fandom is so unbelievably talented, my God!!

Tagging (sorry if you’ve already done this):

@blackberrysummerblog

@orange-peony

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@palimpsessed

[mariana-oconnor]

The Norwood Builder pt 1

Definitely remember the name, but do I remember the story? That is the eternal question. Well, hopefully not eternal. It should be answered soonish.

“London has become a singularly uninteresting city since the death of the late lamented Professor Moriarty.”

Woe, my arch enemy who tried to kill me and very nearly succeeded several times (but who only appeared in one story) is dead. I don't know if this is more indicative of Holmes' character or ACD's lamenting 'look, I raised the stakes so high that time that I'm never going to be able to do that again'. Probably both.

“The community is certainly the gainer, and no one the loser, save the poor out-of-work specialist, whose occupation has gone."

Watson has literally told us twice that 1895 was insanely busy for you. You did a case for the pope. You dealt with that canary guy. Your melodrama is noted, sir.

At the time of which I speak Holmes had been back for some months, and I, at his request, had sold my practice and returned to share the old quarters in Baker Street. A young doctor, named Verner, had purchased my small Kensington practice, and given with astonishingly little demur the highest price that I ventured to ask—an incident which only explained itself some years later when I found that Verner was a distant relation of Holmes's, and that it was my friend who had really found the money.

Holmes really Did That, huh? Wow. Guy has no chill in so many ways. "Come and live with me, Watson, and give up your practice! I'm sure you'll find someone to take it on. What's that? A convenient buyer of whom I know nothing. Nothing at all. Any family resemblance is purely coincidental!"

As it opened there came a tumultuous rush into the hall, rapid feet clattered up the stair, and an instant later a wild-eyed and frantic young man, pale, dishevelled, and palpitating, burst into the room.

What does 'palpitating' mean when referring to a human person?

Ah, so just sort of shaking, then. I've never seen it used like that.

He became conscious that some apology was needed for this unceremonious entry.

I mean, he just entered the dramatic bitch house dramatically, I'm not sure he needs to apologise. You and Holmes do worse once a day and twice on Sundays. Let the boy be dramatic. He's probably earned it. He fits right in, anyway.

"I am the unhappy John Hector McFarlane.”

Once again, I see this and my brain immediately asks if there's a 'happy John Hector McFarlane' out there somewhere, just living his best life, not even palpitating slightly.

“I am sure that with your symptoms my friend Dr. Watson here would prescribe a sedative."

I'm sure he would rather prescribe brandy.

...it was not difficult for me to follow his deductions, and to observe the untidiness of attire, the sheaf of legal papers, the watch-charm, and the breathing which had prompted them.

OK, so Watson's doing really well at working out Holmes' thought processes from his conclusions.

But also, Freemasons really just walking around with their secret society symbol hanging from their watch chain? How is that a secret society?

"I am the most unfortunate man at this moment in London. For Heaven's sake don't abandon me, Mr. Holmes!"

Srsly, my boy is dramatic and he has found his people.

“Arrest you!” said Holmes. “This is really most grati—most interesting.”

Good cover. A+. No one noticed a thing.

“Here it is, and with your permission I will read it to you."

Odd decision to read the article rather than telling your own version of events. But I do love a dramatic reading.

And Watson, you're a bit slow with that brandy. Where is your medical expertise, did you sell it along with your practice to Sherlock's cousin?

"He has had the reputation of being a man of eccentric habits, secretive and retiring. For some years he has practically withdrawn from the business, in which he is said to have amassed considerable wealth."

How very Bilbo Baggins of him. This smells like a motive. I wonder if he has Sackville-Oldacre relatives.

"The police theory is that a most sensational crime has been committed, that the victim was clubbed to death in his own bedroom, his papers rifled, and his dead body dragged across to the wood-stack, which was then ignited so as to hide all traces of the crime."

They're really throwing all the information available out there to the public, huh? No concept of security or secrecy in Victorian London, oh no. We have to put all the dirty details in the paper for everyone to see.

"The conduct of the criminal investigation has been left in the experienced hands of Inspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard..."

Oh hai, Lestrade!

"I knew nothing of this affair until I was in the train, when I read what you have just heard."

Yeah, that'll fuck up your morning and no mistake.

“‘Here is my will,’ said he. ‘I want you, Mr. McFarlane, to cast it into proper legal shape. I will sit here while you do so.’"

No pressure. Just write up this legal document in front of me. Also, it's a will mystery. I love a good will mystery.

"I found that, with some reservations, he had left all his property to me."

Of course he has, I knew he would from the moment you said he knew your parents. Also, this does nothing to make you less of a suspect.

Mr Oldacre is also a member of the dramatic bitch club, it seems. You couldn't just write out your will somewhere else. You had to get the beneficiary to write it out without even telling him he was the beneficiary? No one in this story has the slightest bit of chill.

"The will was duly finished, signed, and witnessed by my clerk."

This feels like a conflict of interest. I feel like the person receiving the inheritance shouldn't be the one to write up the will. I know that Mr Oldacre still had to read and sign it and there was a witness and everything, but it still feels weird.

"‘Remember, my boy, not one word to your parents about the affair until everything is settled. We will keep it as a little surprise for them.’"

I'm guessing that this is because the McFarlane parents have crucial information, such as 'he's a terrible person. we hate him. he will try to frame you for murder' or 'we have never met this man before in our lives'.

We are now getting into the familiar vibe of 'rich person coerces young not-rich person into doing things against their better judgement by promising them money'.

"He remarked that we must not disturb the housekeeper. He showed me out through his own French window, which had been open all this time.”

“It strikes me, my good Lestrade, as being just a trifle too obvious,” said Holmes.

I know I say that all the time, but I have the benefit of knowing that I am reading mystery fiction and therefore the most obvious solution is probably not the correct one. Holmes is just being contrary by saying it here. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the obvious solution is going to be the correct one.

I agree that it would be a stupid move on Mr McFarlane's part, but even so you can't really fault Lestrade for following the evidence to this point.

“Why should the tramp burn the body?” “For the matter of that why should McFarlane?” “To hide some evidence.”

The obvious conclusion to draw here is that it's not Mr Oldacre's body. And he has buggered off somewhere quite merrily with the contents of his safe having suitably fucked over Mr McFarlane for as yet unknown reasons. Hope it wasn't a random passing tramp that he beat to death and burnt. Because that's a dick move. If you're going to kill someone, at least have a personal reason for it.

"I dare say that in the course of the day I shall drop in at Norwood and see how you are getting on.”

I assume after your trip to Blackheath? To see what the elder McFarlanes have to say about Mr Oldacre and if they've ever met him. Maybe had him bury someone in a wall or under a patio for them. Normal things.

I don't seem to remember this one, either. Man I really did not pay attention as a child, huh? Makes it more fun this time around, though.

[robynahaley]

Hi, I wanted to let you know that I had my eye on Mythic Ocean for years and was finally able to get it a few days ago (I've actually had it for a week at this point), have already played through it 3 times, and it's been a delight throughout.

(I'm actually vaguely considering crocheting myself an Amar plushie at some point, but that's still in the planning stages.)

I also wanted to ask a couple questions, if that's not a bother.

What are Elil's pronouns? I've caught the others' (and some for the npcs, though not all), but I don't recall Elil's coming up.

About how many endings are there in total? (I know in response to an earlier ask you said there are about 9 endings as far as achievements go, but I'm wondering what the number might be aside from that, or if it's a case of 'there are so many ways all these decisions and the timing can combine that you're looking at potentially thousands of results'.)

For the sake of my plushie-plotting: What color are Amar's eyes? While playing the game and nosing around online for screencaps I've seen some instances where their eyes look yellow and some where at least one looks like an electric green. (Also, are the 'whites' of their eyes actually black?)

Thank you for making this absolutely stunning game, and for anything you might share. n.n

Oh 3 times already- hopefully you've gotten a good little spread of endings. There are 9 "base/achievement" endings that multiply out into tons and tons of different scenarios. Will there be war, an enlightenment, resolution, that sort of stuff.

I'm gonna go ahead and put everyone's pronouns down:

Elil: they/them (slight leanings toward he/him) Amar: they/them Ketri: she/her Esti: he/him Lutra: they/them Alethea: she/her Gnosis: ?????*&^*$#*&%???!?!? (unknowable but if you find yourself needing to use pronouns then they/them)

Please do plushie plot. We have been looking for a manufacturer for ages but have not had good luck. Would love love love to see a crocheted Amar. They do have black sclera and gold irises. Here is a turn around for your reference.

[brimhavensave]

Welcome!

If you're here that means you're keeping along with my ongoing and very unfinished save file Brimhaven. If you just stumbled on my Tumblr by mistake then hello! I'm simfinity aka sara and I'm a YouTuber and sim fanatic! Below you can find everything about the upcoming save file (My plans) and all the information you need to know about me! anyway, enough chit chat enjoy :)

Okay, so LORE:

The backstory of Brimhaven is based on the show Originals if you're not familiar it's a show about the first-ever vampire family and their life in modern-day Louisiana, hence why Willow Creek is my first world of choice. Now, I will not be making in them in the game just simply using their story. For example, each neighborhood in Brimhaven (Willow Creek) will be the main occult type in the show ie: vampires, werewolves, and witches (spellcasters) to make up the town of Brimhaven. Instead of the Michealson family, I'll have the founding brothers. 3 to be exact however for the sake of surprise that is all the info I'm giving! hush hush there is more to come.

Next, BUILDING STYLE AND ARCHETUCAL DESIGN:

Imagine the French Quater of New Orleans if you aren't familiar here are some reference pictures to help capture my imagery:

Now I plan to use the architectural design but make it more spooky than modern-day New Orleans kinda like it is in the show!

I couldn't FORGET ARE MAIN CHARACTERS COULD I?:

So each occult type will have a clan, coven, pack, etc and all from each will have different types of relationships even a star-crossed lover, Romeo and Juliet type thing. I want this savefile full of drama, lore, and forbidden desires lol its the sims but you get the picture. There will be new townies,. I'm basically making this game bend as far as it will go.

Finally, HOW DO I PLAN TO DO THIS? :

Well, I'm glad you asked for this savefile As much as I want to make it available for everyone it just isn't possible so, It will be pack heavy and may have cc in it as well (functional transportation, gang violence, etc) to make it feel more realistic towards our modern day world. I'll also be taking my time as this is a very long process of getting this world to exactly the way I imagine it so hopefully you will stay for the ride and enjoy whatever this save file brings.

Links:

Linktree everything you need can be found there <

That is all for now

xoxo,

Simfinity

[tmae3114]

*skids into the room and slams a folder down on the table*

SINCE I AM HAVING TIMELINE THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AGAIN, I WANNA ELABORATE ON A THING FROM MY DIAGRAM OF THE MQ/DF/RESET SITUATION BECAUSE IT IS BOUNCING AROUND MY HEAD AND I WANNA INFODUMP ABOUT THIS SPECIFIC ELEMENT OF THIS ABSOLUTE MESS OF A TIMELINE SITUATION (AFFECTIONATE)

SO

I specified in my diagram that “before the Reset is inaccessible by standard means of time travel”. I wanna elaborate on that because I have EXAMPLES. I hope you’re ready to learn precisely how we know that for certain.

1. Clarification of Terms

Okay, so, to be entirely and fully clear here, when I say “before the Reset is inaccessible”, I am referring to intra-timeline time travel. Meaning, from within a Dragonfable timeline, it is impossible to access the Mechquest timeline which became that Dragonfable.

I say “a” because the Artix Entertainment multiverse is A Mess and we know that there are a ton of different versions of all of these timelines. Not only does The Inn At The Edge Of Time tell as much in-game in Dragonfable but AdventureQuestWorlds (relevant here bc we are discussing multiverse) is canonically a result of DF, AQ, and MQ timelines getting merged into one and we know that those timelines all still exist outwith AQW’s existence. For every version of the DF timeline that exists, there is a MQ that preceded it.

However, for sake of clarity, I’ll be using “the” to refer to the DF timeline for the rest of this post, because even if these factors almost certainly apply to all the timelines in terms of mechanics, I am specifically working with The Actual Timeline We Have Experienced (i.e. canon Dragonfable)

The effects of the Reset are, to use a term that @cyraen-ae reminded me exists, retrocausal. If you were to, say, travel back in time five thousand and one years from A Hero Is Born, you would not find yourself in MQ a year before the Reset happened, you would find yourself five thousand and one years in the past of DF. Thus, “before the Reset is inaccessible via intra-timeline time travel in a DF timeline”. (That is too many uses of time related terms right next to each other. I’m going to just say “intra-timeline travel” after this.)

Hopefully that’s clear because I am now moving on to THE EXAMPLES.

We have three specific quests which I will be pointing to today. They are Yulgar’s First Date, Frostval 2014 - A Tale of Two Timelines, and CyseRedux.

2. Intra-Timeline Travel Cannot Access Pre-Reset

We know this because we see it happen.

Hello, Yulgar’s First Date, thank you so much for serving as proof here, I love you for giving us a solid canon example of how this works.

So, during the events of Mechquest, the hero is fully grown. Whether they’re in their late teens, early twenties, or older than that, it doesn’t really matter. The signficant detail is that they are clearly and visibly Not A Child. The hero had a childhood in the MQ timeline and was Not A Child at the time of the Reset. They are Not A Child in the fixed point in time. The hero enters the DF timeline as Not A Child and, if we looked at this purely linearly, was never a child within DF.

But! As mentioned earlier, the Reset was retrocausal. The hero did have a childhood that, as far as they or anyone else can know, they experienced in the DF timeline.

In Yulgar’s First Date, Cysero gives the hero some Time Cake to allow them to travel twenty years back in time. This also equips the Kid armour. While it’s possible that this is a random side effect (it is Cysero, after all), Occam’s Razor would suggest that this is just the age the hero was twenty years ago.

And since we know that the Reset took five thousand years to complete and only ended at the start of Book One, we know that this specific point in time is one in which the Reset would have been on-going, if it were accessible.

So! Intra-timeline travel cannot access the Reset or reality as it existed before it.

3. Wait, But Then, What About The Times MQ Did Show Up Via Time Stuff?

I’M GLAD YOU ASKED. THE ANSWER IS SHENANIGANS.

To be specific, the two instances in which MQ related stuff shows up from Time Stuff are instances of non-standard time travel. One is explicitly inter-timeline (multiple timelines are involved) and the other is...... Cysero Did It (and is also inter-timeline. They are both inter-timeline. Though the inter-timelineness of the latter may not be relevant.)

So, A Tale of Two Timelines. The Artix of an AQW timeline (we do not know if he was canon AQW) got a wand off of a Time Travel Fairy and promptly started trying to bring different timelines together so all the heroes could hang out at Frostval. He also destabilised a bunch of timelines because he was merging them together. During these timeline merges, a bunch of MQ stuff showed up, including various characters having elements of their MQ appearances for periods of time.

However, as established, this was a case of timelines being merged together and, also as established, there is more than one MQ timeline.

Therefore, this was not the before-the-Reset of the Dragonfable timeline being brought forth but rather a separate MQ timeline being brought in.

And that brings us to CyseRedux, in which Sys-Zero shows up in person and shares a bunch of nods with Cysero. This would suggest that they are aware that they are the same person. However, this quest also features Blatant Breaking Of AE Multiversal Rules and Four Other Cyseros, so there’s A Lot Going On.

So. Here’s the thing. CyseRedux features DF Cysero, AQ Cysero, AQW Cysero, Sys-Zero, and Actual Real Life Staff Cysero In A Background Cameo.

It is explicit AE Multiverse Lore that there cannot be more than one instance of a person in a timeline at a time. If you jump to another timeline, your counterpart gets yanked to your timeline until you return. This comes up in A Tale of Two Timelines, for a DF source, but also comes up in the AQW Mirror World plotlines.

CyseRedux is a case of Cysero blatantly and flagrantly breaking this rule. Because Cysero gets to break any and all rules of reality as he wishes and it’s great.

Which means that we have two options here. The AQ and AQW Cyseros are from other, separate timelines. So it would be logical that the Sys-Zero who shows up is also from a separate MQ timeline. However, he could be from the DF timeline’s pre-Reset MQ, without it presenting a problem to the impossibility of intra-timeline travel across the Reset, because Cysero is already breaking the rules.

4. Conclusion

I just infodumped to you for over a thousand words about timeline mechanics in a bunch of indie flash-based video games and it is currently past four in the morning in my timezone. I have Special Interest Brain so badly.

[qllie]

wtf is wrong with this guy he groomed a minor and in his apology he's like "even Kasane Teto won't forgive me for my actions" DUDE YOU COMMITTED & ADMITTED TO A CRIME BE SERIOUS!!!!

Like it's just disrespectful to put a ridiculous reference into your apology for a crime. These are extremely serious allegations and making such absurdly self-pitying remarks is just awful it's sickening. I mean obviously there was absolutely nothing he could say in his "apology" that could make his actions okay, but this is sickening it's just awful.

The Teto thing is just so tasteless. This isn't about Kasane Teto at all, this is about you GROOMING A CHILD. Like saying "Oh no the fictional singing robot will be disappointed in me" like you should be worried about THE REAL ACTUAL PERSON WHO YOU HURT NOT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER'S OPINION OF YOU.

His apology also completely minimizes what happened. He says that "it's all because of my selfish strong desires that I just went too far..." like no you told someone you knew to be a minor to send you explicit pictures of themself and sent them explicit pictures of yourself as well. That's not simply just "reacting to strong desire" that's GROOMING A CHILD. Like just say that's what you did don't dance around the issue with such vague terms.

Also this section is just disgusting. It essentially blames all his negative actions with the excuse of "mental illness." Like it's not simply just "mental illness." Like even if he did have some mental illness, you still have control over your actions. He could have deleted his discord server if he really couldn't resist his "strong desire," he could have seeked help, etc etc. He still hurt an EXTREMELY VULNERABLE CHILD no matter what the reason is. No one is feeling any pity for him over this. This just seems like an attempt to deflect blame while including self-indulgent "Oh I'm sooooo terrible I'm soooo bad woe is me." Like just say that YOU did it don't blame "mental illness"!

Honestly it's good that he demonetized his videos and deleted his patron at least. Because yeah he should not be making money off this... Like at least he's gone (hopefully permanently) because so many people who do this type of stuff just deny it and come back....

And the people saying "IDC about the grooming please keep making covers and put your videos back up" are so irritating. Like

The grooming and the covers are actually related? Like he groomed this person using his influence from being a relatively popular UTAU cover artist and having his own discord server. So these things are directly related, so it's necessary that he stops having an online presence so that he stops being able to use his power to groom people.

There are a million other Teto covers, song USTs, etc. Yes obviously every single person has unique covers/tuning/etc, but it's not as if this persons work is completely irreplaceable? Like people saying "I need Kasane Teto" when she's literally the most popular UTAU character (and her SV is one of the most popular voicebanks rn). There's no shortage of Kasane Teto, literally just look up 重音テト on youtube and you'll find a million covers and original songs. There is absolutely no reason you specifically need to listen to a child groomers covers. (Additionally, IIRC he usually covered songs that were pretty popular? So you can probably easily find several Teto covers of those exact songs).

Grooming is actually really serious? This guy took advantage of a minor??? I don't care how good someone's tuning/covers/music are it's not worth supporting them grooming a child!

That kind of attitude bothers me so bad because it's just showing callous disregard to someone who was hurt just for the sake of what??? "TETO'S GROWL GHOST RULE"????