#can you tell what im writing about

[fauustic]

something about pre-spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara still having his bite but more soft in regards of emotions, not exactly feeling like a total outcast but still craving any kind of vulnerability from another because he's still alone most of the time swamped by expectations set on him.. especially since he's just more of a closet-nerd from his science career ... i need to chomp him fr

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Bruh emotional support ghost kid? Well thats what they are calling him

Suicide cases in gothem are about to fucking plummet boiz cause this one weird blue eyes, black haired boy is now heading to your location.

How does he know where to be? Having a bad day and are all alone? No the fuck your not cause don’t turn around now but theres some shiny blue eyes coming at you from that dark ally. Oh shit hes here to drop some information about you and your lost loved ones that he should know. Oh god the closure. How could you have been afraid on this sweet, creepy, boy who just helped you find your way.

Meanwhile Danny is chillin in Gothem cause the GIW hate it there (none of they equipment actually functions in Gothem so it’s either super haunted or actually not haunted at all). Then all of a sudden he gets approached by a random ghost begging for his help because their sweet baby girl is about to do something horrible. Oops now all the ghosts are following their most loved ones around just to make sure they are there to rush to Danny for help when all else fails. Now hes getting to fulfil his protection obsession double time because one hes helping protect people from themselves and two hes protecting everyone in Gothem by stopping people from becoming villains for revenge. Plus he gets to see first hand how hes making a difference because all those people he saved are sending him some good vibes from all across Gothem.

Thank god he followed Jazz around so much to slightly absorb some of her phycology knowledge over the years. Plus it was actually pretty interesting so she gave him her old text books. Shes also helping him deal with the rare events where he can’t save someone. Just a moment too late or he stops them but they later succeeded in the hospital. Neither are his fault. Now only if he could convince his core of that.

Anyway why Gothem you ask? Amity Park would have been just as good tbh but imagine Batmans face when he finally gets to be face to face with the emotional support ghost boy. Why is he here? Bruce is fine. Batman is fine. Hes not gonna do anything crazy. It’s just a hard time of year. Around their death always gives him grief. But hes an adult and can manage it.

“You know they are so proud of you.” The boy states. As if it’s clear as day, even though it’s Gothem and never a clear day. Batman blinks at him, stunned for a moment. “What?” This boy can’t possibly know that. No one will ever know that, Bruce can only hope. “They see their home, full of such life. That big house that felt so empty, so cold, to them as well for years. Then you filled it with Family and Love like they had always wanted for you. They are so proud of what you have turned it into. Somewhere full of life and warmth.” A small smile graces his face as finally “you have made your parents so proud” and its all he can do to contain himself. Emotions are running high and sue him because he really did need to hear that ok. The boy suddenly looks to Bruces right with a confused face “aren’t all basements like that though?” Before Bruce can even get a word in hes gone. Just vanished before his eyes.

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[wandixx]

Prompt For Dc-x-Dp With M’gann and Danny M’gann didn't expect to be dealing with Random Lazurus Green Portals forming around mars, but since she's Nearby mars she gets to deal with it... and their's An Alien with snow white hair Fighting A Glowing Vampire who's raving about Fathers and mothers?? Danny Is in such a Mood, He's on mars, which is a plus, but He's Fighting Vlad On Another 'Join me! Let me remove Jack from this plain of Reality!' and Honestly The Portals are throwing him off, Just... Bad memories, And Then, becuase of fucking course Something else happened, Vlad Gets Decked in the face and sent flying. "hey, So im going to guess that The Vampire is The Evil one here?" The Green woman asked, while Looking at Danny. While Vlad is growling and about to Throw A Red Ecto-blast at M’gann Danny gets in the way with a shield and responds. "yeah, arch nemisis and all, how are you even out here? or breathing?" M’gann Just Shrugged and said, "Well Home is home and all." Before flying to go Deck the Vampire and all. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ hope this is enough for you to Work some magic and all. and as for some extra stuff you could use, maybe danny has a Space obsesion, and His Protective stuff is Becuase of the Type of spirit he is half of? And maybe An Ice core Could be fun to go with? Ghost prince territory? with danny not wanting to be ghost king just yet. ideas for ya to use.

It's such a cool concept! I didn’t fit Ghost Prince in, but I hope you'll like what I did

*****

Danny was going to strangle Vlad, all subtleties of ghost powers no withstanding. He needed the brutal power that just wasn't fully there even when using more offensive abilities, like ecto-blasts.

He had been having a good day. Okay, maybe not a good day, it's been a long time since he had an actually good one, but a decent day. One, that seemed to start out calm, with all of his typical rogues stuck in Zone recent enough they shouldn't get out today specifically. It was Saturday, so no school, and for once his homework wasn't swallowing him, so he had a bit of time to breathe. And prepare college applications, because his grades got to an appropriate level again and he actually got a shot in academic career. No chance for scholarship like Jazz, but he could go if he played his cards right.

And then, of course, Vlad had to come into his room to harass him again. This time with the added flair of a portal gun he made for some freaking reason.

This time Danny wasn't even trying to piss Vlad off, in the love of Ancients, he tried to ignore the other halfa even when he showed up in his room, raving about removing Jack Fenton from this plane of reality. Craving to deck the guy right then and there was enormous but Jazz was on him about controlling his ✨️displaced aggression✨️ and his anger in general, so he was trying to tune Vlad out. He carefully didn't even think about transforming into Phantom. Especially since both of his parents were safe, a few states away on some ghost hunting convention that Danny managed to skip by the power of ‘I can't take more days off school, sorry I messed up my attendance early in the year’.

Well, they would be, if Vlad, being the obsessed creep he was, didn't try to follow them with a portal gun.

Danny was still willing to ignore it all, because Vlad was a loser and chances that he made something so complicated work properly were only slightly above chances his parents had. And both of them were tripping hazards in hell.

But then Vlad started blasting around his room to egg him on and hit his Curiosity rover model.

Phantom tackled him before the bastard had time to smirk. They phased through the wall, because otherwise Vlad’s back would smash into Lego Saturn V and boy was not looking forward to even more damage. His white gloved hands pressed Plasmius against the cold floor. It looked promising. Over the years he got to a relatively similar level as Vlad with his fighting abilities so getting advantage so early could in theory mean it would be over soon and he would get back to his applications.

He forgot how to breathe for a moment when he was pushed through a portal. Some most instinctual part of him, deep in his core, fell to the mindless panic because He died this way! He died this way, was he able to survive it again?! Without thinking he lashed out, trying to scratch and bite and blast because he needed to get out, he needed to get away but danger was in front of him and he needed to get rid of the danger before he could escape to safety. And Vlad kept teasing him, like he didn't know fully well what portals did to Phantom, to Danny, like he wasn't breaking the most basic rules of the anarchist ghost society.

So Phantom kept trying to punch and kick and scream, trying to get away from green ovals that just kept appearing around them leading to who knows where.

Powerful blast to the chest sent him flying back, through the portal and down to the ground, which at some point became asphalt instead of wheat field. He was too frazzled to even try stopping his fall, just half heartedly tensed waiting for an impact.

It never came, because he was caught by static. Men in red (Flash he'd realize second too late, Flash) send him a concerned smile and asked about something but Plasmius was trying to duplicate, no doubt to overshadow actual hero and it wasn't the way Phantom wanted to be introduced to the Justice League so he jumped forward, sending both halfas through another portal.

It was easier this time, when he expected it but his hands were still shaking when he put them in fists. He could handle it though. He fought in much worse circumstances.

They spawned through a few more portals, almost threw worried looking Superman off the sky and barely not killed some of Aquaman's dolphins before something changed. Phantom didn't realize it at first, too focused on rapid fire from Plasmius and on the constant lookout for new portals, but something changed.

His next blast hit the target and left charcoal black burn and almost fire in its wake. It wasn't something that happened normally. It wasn't something that happened normally unless Danny's obsessions were being served. He wasn't protecting anyone but himself, which didn't fill the protection obsession, so that left…

Space.

Oh.

He was on Mars. Or well, a bit above.

It was mesmerizing. It was breathtaking. It was everything he wished for ever since he learned about other planets in kindergarten.

Sky was a pinkish red color that on Earth meant a beautiful clear sunset but here was just the middle of the day. He didn't see the sun itself, apparently lucky enough to have his back to it. It wouldn't be brighter than at home, obviously, but it was always nice to not be blinded when admiring the view.

The landscape below them seemed familiar. He probably saw it in some photo, but he couldn't remember which one. He couldn't help but try to remember. He wanted to know where was he, what he'd seen, what he'd touched, later when he was in his room, longing to get out here again.

In his almost trance he just about ignored the blast that flew past his ear like an annoying pest.

He had the name of this rock formation on the tip of his tongue! C'mon, brain, you could do it, you could remem-

Even he couldn't ignore the burning pain of the ecto blast straight to the shoulder.

“Listen to me, Little Badger!” Plasmius yelled before dodging ice javelin. Phantom made sure it evaporated before hitting the ground. He was not letting other planet become collateral damage in whatever mess Vlad wanted to stir this time.

He carefully didn't look around when they teleported next time, aware just enough to know they were still on Mars. It wasn't a good moment to sooth his neglected obsession.

Being mad that this was probably the only chance he got out there helped. It definitely reignited the absolute fury, before muted by the panic and then obsession trance.

Phantom wasn't sure what he was yelling back as Plasmius went on and on about killing Danny's dad and marrying his mom and adopting Danny and how ‘look Little Badger, you and I both see how much better off you'd be if you just joined me and let me teach you’. He just knew there was little other than obscenities, and it was paired with an array of blasts and ice and straight up punches when he got close, which was good enough.

Oh, how he wished he could strangle the pathetic vampire lookalike bastard.

Something green and indigo sent Plasmius crashing into the ground.

“Hey, so I'm going to guess that the vampire is The Evil one here?” Feminine voice asked in clear English. Danny took a moment to just stare, blinking rapidly to make sure he saw what he thought he saw.

Yup, that was certainly The Miss Martian, an alien heroine, whose action figure he displayed at the most honorable place of his room. The Miss Martian he tried to learn everything about when she debuted. The Miss Martian whose powers were so similar he used footage from her fights to learn himself. His biggest inspiration.

Dope.

Wait, she asked him a question, didn't she? It was not the time to be a fanboy, probably.

Yeah, no it was definitely not a time to be a fanboy, he decided, right when he threw a shield in front of her, because Vlad didn't take kindly to being interrupted. It really was the least he deserved.

“Yeah, arch nemesis and all that. If I may ask, what are you doing here, Miss Martian, ma'am? I thought you lived full time on Earth?”

“Well, home is home and all” she just said wistfully and telepathically threw a rock to Vlad's stomach, making it follow until it hit the mark, right before another stone hit him in the unprotected back.

And here Danny thought he got over his celebrity crush back when he was sixteen.

Good thing though, another person in the fight made his protection obsession rear back to life, the fact that she was an alien only helping as his space side zeroed on her too. It was useful to not get distracted by glimpses of the world around them.

Of course Vlad just duplicated to make the chances ‘equal’ once again, so the fight dragged on.

Miss Martian just kept being graceful like a supernova, beautiful and destructive.

Danny hoped he didn’t look as embarrassingly pathetic as he thought he did. What were the chances she didn’t see when he took the blast to the arm because he got distracted by pretty rocks?

Plasmius kept taunting, calling him Daniel because of course secret identities or prefered names don't matter when you have to harass the teenager.

Phantom decked him extra hard for that.

At least he didn’t try to use his portal gun again, too busy with fighting off both of them.

Kick, dodge blast, ice, shield for Miss Martian, ice because how dare he attack an alien, dodge, intangibility.

Was it or was it not a good idea to use Ghost Wail and be done with that.

“I've got an idea, cover for me for a minute, okay?”

“Sure” Did he sound too eager? He wanted to keep it cool at least outwardly, not mess up his first and perhaps last impression.

Wait, shit, Martians can read minds! Miss Martian probably already knows how big of a mess he was.

Shit, shit, shit.

Phantom dutifully shielded heroine as she levitated with her eyes closed, at the same time keeping constant assault on Vlad. It was getting exhausting. At least he could go home fast when the fight ended.

“Do you want me to make him indefinitely indisposed or is it too much for you?” Miss Martian suddenly asked. Danny froze for almost a minute before he choked out.

“What do you mean?”

“I can rip his mind apart, leave his body alive but useless without any thought to lead it, but I know some people find it uncomfortable even when it happens to villains”

For a moment, in the midst of fanboying, he forgot how terrifying set of powers she had.

“Please don't” After all, ghosts are their minds, and despite how despicable things Vlad did, no one deserved fate of completely not existing.

“Alright. Is enhancing his experience of pain okay with your moral code?”

“Yeah, I think”

“Done,” she said with a smile, and despite how terrifying he was of her just a few seconds ago, he had to admit, this smile was gorgeous.

After that, it took, like, three punches before Vlad bailed. Which was good.

What was less good, was the fact that the portal he used to escape closed before Danny could go through it. He just stared for a long moment, blinking quickly. He wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. Both was good.

“So, Daniel…?”

Danny winced and looked back at Miss Martian.

“Danny. Or Phantom. Nobody calls me Daniel”

She nodded with a friendly smile. Good thing they were flying, because his knees got weak for a hot second.

“Alright. I'm M’gann”

“Should you tell me this?”

“I know your name,” she shrugged. “It's only fair that you know mine. It's not a name I use on Earth anyway”

“Um, sure, okay. It's nice to meet you M’gann” Was this too stiff? He had no idea how he was supposed to interact with heroes who just shared their identity. For no reason too, because c'mon, she didn't know him. Why would she do it?!

“Are you from Earth? You speak English”

“Yeah, USA, Illinois. That bastard teleported us around and of course left me stranded”

“It's your lucky day then, I was about to head back, I can take you with me”

There was no universe in which he wouldn’t agree.

[macdenlover]

we don’t acknowledge enough how dee used to be a pageant winner when she was a kid and how much damage it did to her. she worked her ass off and got recognition for being pretty and talented at a young age and it was the only source of self esteem she could garner in a family that constantly berated and talked down to her. she sought after that external approval because it was the only way she could prove everyone around her wrong. her dream of being a performer didn’t come from a self-aggrandizing delusion— she genuinely showed a lot of potential when she was younger. but she went through an unflattering puberty and her spinal condition got worse and that natural talent she had as a kid plateaued way too early. the “former gifted kid” dilemma. she slowly lost the thing that promised her that she was good, but she was so desperate to keep holding onto it that she tried anyway. again and again and again no matter how much people made fun of her because it was always about proving them wrong. but after a while she couldn’t jump anymore without anticipating the way it feels when she hits the ground face first. self-sabotage became her way out, choosing to rather live in the fantasy of her own unrealized potential and blaming those around her for her lack of success, than having tried and crashed again. she’d rather buy lottery tickets over and over and never scratch off the numbers than to see that she lost. that self-sabotaging behavior bled into other aspects of her life too, from friendships to relationships to therapy. her own short lived success is what made her grow into embodying the cycle of failure.

[hearts4lilith]

currently thinking about how tommy said that ctommy waking up underwater every day in exile was a metaphor for his mental health, and that the further and further out to sea he got and the further he was sinking the more deteriorated he became and eventually he would end up unable to resurface had they not done something about cdream.

currently thinking about how if ctommy couldn't resurface, he'd drown in his own thoughts, believing his friends and family all hated him. nobody would see the kid they once knew in him anymore. maybe he'd never be seen again at all.

currently thinking about how ctommy saw one anxious, forgetful enderman lad, roped him into a crime, and took 100% of the fall when they didn't get away with it. ctommy could have ignored the situation. he didnt have to go to ctubbo and say "it was just me, man". as cranboo said, he could have said it was all him. there was evidence it was him.

but i think that after everything, ctommy would still be unable to live with himself if it'd been cranboo in exile instead of him. on the surface, he's a child. a soldier and a veteran and a criminal, yes, but still a child.

but beneath that, he's learnt. he's decided he'd rather throw himself into trouble than let his friends go through any amount of suffering.

i think that if cranboo were to ask, "why did you do that?" ctommy would sigh, that familiar shaky sigh we all know, and he'd speak quietly in reply, "i know what some of those bastards are capable of. i'd rather go through all that than have you do it for me. plus, it wasn't your fault."

or maybe that's just me.

[rookflower]

on one hand yeah this is the kitty cat book fandom where at least 95% of the people here are just here to draw funny cats or for nostalgia reasons and it's really not that deep, there is nothing wrong with taking a critical backseat on this one. but on the other, the amount of people in the fandom who seem to genuinely believe that children's literature and xenofiction are both somehow inherently unworthy of any form of criticism whatsoever, to the point where random tumblr posts casually identifying shit like.... themes.... and narrative trends... is looking into things way too deeply and makes you a bad or stupid person in some way because "they're just cats", gives the literature student in me such a headache

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Alhaitham referring to kaveh in ways which acknowledge his skill, and kaveh perceiving it as sarcasm, even though alhaitham refers to kaveh in the same ways when kaveh isn’t present is driving me a little bit insane - especially what this prompts the player to question!!

When we first meet kaveh in the archon quest the relationship between him and alhaitham is presented to us as “terrible” (courtesy of npc geoff who introduces kaveh’s return to sumeru city), and the cutscene in the house of daena demonstrates what this entails, being that the two cannot see eye to eye, and, seemingly don’t hold each other in high regard.

Alhaitham seemingly refers to kaveh’s genius in a sarcastic light and kaveh claims to despise talking to alhaitham because of his arrogance.

Looking to kaveh’s hangout, however, when the player has a one-on-one with alhaitham, the player gets a glimpse into alhaitham’s personal understanding of kaveh, and with this, his own views on kaveh.

Within this exchange between him and the player, Alhaitham uses Kaveh’s title without sarcasm, sincerely praising him and his skills, elevating him over ‘less skilled’ architects and asserting that Kaveh should have more confidence in his work.

The reason that Alhaitham does not openly praise Kaveh is stated here, being that “admonitions” will serve no purpose due to people being prone to fall into “similar pitfalls”, and that people should have the right to lead their own life, rather than have it interfered upon by others

The reading here is that even if Alhaitham did openly praise Kaveh, no difference would be made in Kaveh’s thinking. Yet, by refraining from praise, and instead goading, by this logic, this also makes no difference. Therefore, the question is raised, ‘why can Alhaitham praise Kaveh to the player, and not to Kaveh himself?’

When Alhaitham praises Kaveh’s work within Kaveh’s hangout it is through there being no record of issues in the reconstruction of port ormos, which is something kaveh states first - in this context, alhaitham notes the work as an “impressive achievement”, which kaveh assents to, as there is no standing in which this can be debated. Kaveh cannot resent a compliment steeped in fact, even from alhaitham

The problem, then, is rooted in alhaitham’s delivery, which relates to their core issue of miscommunication. Referring back to their exchange in the House of Daena, it is observed that Alhaitham uses similar descriptors of Kaveh to Kaveh, similar to the descriptors he uses to the Traveler in Kaveh’s hangout, however, Kaveh perceives these words as sarcasm.

This highlights the miscommunication between them and can aid in answering the question why Alhaitham cannot be open with Kaveh, as he will be misconstrued.

​Through Alhaitham’s repeated elusions to Kaveh when he is not present and his open esteem of Kaveh and his work to the Traveler, Kaveh’s assertion that Alhaitham holds him in a negative light is proved incorrect. This serves to highlight the miscommunication between the two, causing the player to question why they hold such contrasting views of the other.

Clearly, there is a reason why Alhaitham cannot openly express his regard of Kaveh to Kaveh, but this reason is obscure to both kaveh and the player.

In terms of queer subtext it’s pretty interesting that alhaitham’s high regard for kaveh is shown within the surface text and yet the reason for this secrecy is never made explicit within the story’s surface and is only to be inferred from alhaitham’s and kaveh’s character stories.

In terms of the two functioning as mirrors, the fact that the knowledge that alhaitham cannot outright compliment kaveh 1) is not only due to their past argument and lost friendship and 2) is also due to his awareness that kaveh cannot accept goodwill, is only obtainable by reading both kaveh and alhaitham’s character stories shows how intertwined they are as characters - you cannot fully understand one without the other

(Update: For more analyses like this, the essay this is taken from is now uploaded! It can be accessed here and here as as a pdf <3)

[rose-above-dark]

Day 1 of writing ultrakill: hehehe machine powered by blood!! Mankind is dead, gabriel wants to fuck that machine

Day ???? Of writing ultrakill: hell is alive. Hell is alive and we are the entertainment, marked by blood as the fuel. The terminals watch us: for they and we are ultimately what’s left of humanity. They are an archive of everything mankind has ever achieved and one of its last remaining idols. There is nothing left to consume but yourself. The loop will endlessly repeat until either entropy- or yourself finally, mercifully ends it. You and Gabriel are tools now without purpose and now you must find it. Through Gabriel are you able to reach peak performance, the penultimate version of yourself. Through V1 Gabriel is able to achieve a form of deliverance- ecstasy through a newfound freedom. This is a wretched, bloodied love story that’s alive with every player as its intestines and entrails- eating itself whole. By killing each other- you will destroy everything you have left. You must break the loop today or the loop will repeat tomorrow. Gabriel really wants to fuck that machine and V1 wants that angel BADLY

[dykedvonte]

I keep seeing fanarts of ppl's OC's being on the ship, so do you think that if there was 6st crewmember (specifically, another woman) Anya would've been more safe? Like, someone to actually call Jimmy's begaviour out, someone Anya might wanna trust? Is there a possibility something might have changed (even if a little) or it would not have mattered at all?

-💀

I feel like the game would make it part of the commentary on where she would believe and help Anya but still be sort of dismissive? Like the whole “don’t waste time crying and being scared keep going and move on, don’t let him win”. It’s supposed to be positive and reinforcing but sometimes it does more damage in those times of mourning and grief, it feels patronizing, like you don’t understand what you’re going through but they do. Even if they did call out his behavior it’s still on Curly to act and while another voice would help, it’s still 4 against 2 on guys that don’t get it until they have to vs women who always have to.

I don’t mind mouthwashing OCs but I do get a bit bored as they tend to be borderline saviors or like Jimmy aligned. They are either more complicit than Curly or just Jimmy haters for no reason, outside of what the creators know about what he did to Anya. I am never irked by OCs but in a story like mouthwashing you really need to think about what your character adds to the commentary, especially if they are there during the crash. It’s nice to have like characters on Anya’s side more whole heartedly and interesting to see characters who placate Jimmy but sometimes it’s one note.

I can’t and don’t want to police peoples OCs it’s never my intention when I comment on trends I notice, but I do feel like the way people make their OCs interact with these two characters and especially Curly, really show a grave misunderstanding of the narrative and these characters as people vs roles in the story. Still, I know people just make up characters for fun and that’s fine. Great even, but I guys I’m focusing more on OCs that are supposed to have those serious dynamics. My favs tend to be pretty-Tulpar or post-Tulpar au OCs.

The inevitably of the crash is on Jimmy. He did that not because he wasn’t stopped but because all his means to kill Anya were taken. The gun, the axe. Even if Curly did strip him of his co-pilot privileges and try to keep him contained there’s only so many people. An extra body helps but they have jobs they have to do, he’s the only one steering the whole ship and Jimmy would likely have an out: food, bathroom, etc. He’s not new and if he couldn’t crash the ship directly, who’s to say he wouldn’t sabotage something else? A clunker like the Tulpar wouldn’t take much. An extra person helps but it’s just another thing that prolongs what a person like Jimmy is willing to do to shirk responsibility.

It’s more than just needing someone to stand up to him and think that’s what is missing when it comes to inserting a character into the mouthwashing setting.

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[dellephone]

grill the grid + landoscar

Something about the way Oscar lights up when he wins Grill the Grid makes guilt curl itself around Lando’s throat. A snake, tightening and loosening with each breath, it’s head sitting at the juncture between his neck and collarbone.

Oscar’s a bit weird, sometimes, and likely would have been that much more excited to win Grill the Grid than his first race regardless. But Lando knows that he’s taken something from him.

They’ve gotten past it, talked it out after the race. But it almost makes him feel worse, how easily Oscar understood and accepted the outcome. He was barely even icy, only a bit distant— more reserved than he’s been since last year.

Lando almost wonders if it would have been better not to switch back at all, to make Oscar hate him for stealing his win. Instead he’s forgiven him for stealing the celebration. Turning his first win into a bitter memory.

He thinks of his collision with Max— the white hot anger that followed. Wonders how Oscar would react to a collision like that, if he’d forgive him before the race is even over. Wonders where the line lies, wonders when he’ll cross it.

It’s telling, maybe, that he’d prefer the anger.

[aroaceleovaldez]

i would like to say my ideal PJO adaptation (if i was being physically forced against my will to have to pick a live action adaptation over an animated one for some reason) would be a combo like writing of the musical + casting of the show + visuals of the movies

BUT the show actually does have the playwright for the musical as one of the major writers for like three episodes and that did nothing for it. so...

[soupmanspeaks]

the topic of Helpy makes me go insane /pos like I have this headcanon that William/Springtrap just, DESPISED Helpy because William took heaps of pride from the Funtime line of Animatronics, he saw it as his son's crude mocking of HIS creations, when in reality its just Michaelangelo S Afton trying to use humor to once again cope with the horrors™️ Like I've probably said this here before but I headcanon that Helpy found his way into the PizzaPlex's marketing is because after the FNAF6 fire he just was under the rubble remarkably preserved or something and instead of going into the RockStarRow Museum, the FazExecs had dollar signs in their eyes and were like "yeah, that one will make us bank, ong" Ive also probably said this (bad memory sozzz) but a headcanon to go in tandem with that headcanon, is that Glamfreddy sighs in resignation whenever he passes by one of those Helpy monitors (he wasn't paid royaltys <//3 ) AND LIKE I GOTTA KNOW WHAT (glam)MIKE WOULD THINK OF THE ENTITY THAT IS SATAN DISGUISING HIMSELF AS AN AGENT OF LIGHT (Helpi) WOULD HE FEEL SAD? ANGRY? AT THE MIMIC? THE COMPANY?! please the topic of helpy is so interesting PLEAs-

[forlorn-crows]

for your consideration: transmasc Cirrus

i think these two shall combine nicely, @rrriver, dont you? been teasing @askingforthesun with this one for a few days now.

cirrus can be a boy, as a treat. and whats better than one transmasc ghoul? two transmasc ghouls.

2k of t4t aethe/cirrus goodness. author clearly has forgotten what ficlet means. but im combining two requests, so its fine, right? no one can complain to me about more smut.

clit/cunt/folds/cock/dick for both of the transmasc lads here. exactly what it says on the tin. enjoy xx

It’s a modest thing: plain red, slightly curved, average size and length. Cirrus rolls the weight of it around in his hand, back and forth, making the wide elastic straps rustle. The air ghoul is no stranger to strap-ons, this much is true; but this one is different, foreign by its very nature. A little something extra, Aether had promised. 

“Want me to show you?” he asks now. The quintessence ghoul slides his hand over Cirrus’, caressing along the back of it and along the shaft of the toy. Aether’s other hand comes up to grasp gently at the underside of his wrist, ultraviolet eyes soft yet dark. 

Cirrus nods, grin going lopsided as he bites his lip. “Yeah,” he breathes. 

Aether mirrors his grin. “Come on, then.” He tugs Cirrus down to the bed, letting him settle atop his lap. “Kiss me first, though, hm?”

He pulls him down into a languid kiss, blindly taking the strap from his hand and setting it aside for now. Cirrus melts easily into it, Aether’s warm arms wrapping around his waist and holding steady. The quintessence ghoul grinning against his mouth when Cirrus loops his own arms around his neck, fingers coming up to tangle in his hair. 

“Mm,” Aether hums appreciatively. “You know I like that.”

Cirrus rolls his hips, barely rubbing his folds over Aether’s fat little length. Earning a chuff when they each get a little friction. “You like that too?” he asks teasingly. 

Aether rumbles his assent and encourages the air ghoul to do it again. His breath hitches when he grinds more deliberately, the swollen ends of their clits nudging against one another. “Fuck, you know I do.”

“Can feel how hard you are,” Cirrus breathes. He tugs on the hairs at the back of his head, licking into his mouth when it drops open in a gasp. Relishing in the way Aether grips him tighter with strong hands, encouraging him to do as he pleases. 

“How can I not be, with—hah—such a handsome thing on my lap?”

“Wet, too?”

“Cir—”

Cirrus laughs and runs his hand down Aether’s chest. Tugging at those hairs there too before gliding further down, down, down. 

“Yeah, right there,” Aether breathes. Begs. He spreads his thighs underneath him, inviting his hand to dip between them and pet along his sex. Nimble pianist fingers swipe through slick and tug at his chubby clit as Cirrus leans in again for another messy kiss. 

“Oh fuck,” the quintessence ghoul groans. Cirrus’ agile tongue swipes along the back of his teeth with the same precision as he jerks his dick, so toe-clenchingly thorough that he gets lost in it easily and willingly. Cirrus can sense it, as he does with everything, smiling against Aether’s lips when he starts unconsciously bucking into his fingers. He withdraws them, dragging the wet digits through his happy trail and up to his chest. 

“Thought you were gonna show me something,” he says softly. Smooths his hands over Aether’s broad pecs and pulls back to find a very flushed and swollen-lipped ghoul gazing back. His responding smile is wide and goofy. He nods and gives the tops of Cirrus’ thighs a quick squeeze before grabbing the strap again. 

“Gotta put it on first.” Aether motions for Cirrus to stand, holding the gear by the hip straps so he can step in easily. He wriggles it up so it sits in its proper place, cinching the straps nice and snug. He pats his flank with a grin. “There’s a lad. Suits you nicely, I think.” 

The air ghoul hums and smooths his fingers around the o-ring, snuggling the back of the toy against his clit with a sigh. He gives the silicone a few strokes out of habit, brushing the short hair from his eyes as he watches Aether give him a long, approving look. It’s familiar—routine thus far. But there’s still that certain glint in his eyes that reminds Cirrus otherwise. He slips between Aether’s thighs and into his welcoming arms, letting his big hands roam over his ass, his back, his stomach. Solid, strong palms that never fail to light up his nerves wherever they go. 

“So,” Cirrus prompts, arching his back slightly and wiggling his hips to make the toy cock wag back and forth, “what’s the secret, starlight?”

Aether chuckles. “You’ll see. Close your eyes for me.”

Cirrus does as he’s told, taking a long, even breath. He can feel Aether’s smile even with his eyes closed. The quint ghoul puts one hand on his lower back and one, presumably, around the toy, judging by the slight shift in pressure on his clit. He bites back a gasp, stifles the urge to shift his feet; he feels like he isn’t supposed to move, lest he interrupt what Aether is doing. 

“Deep breath for me,” he breathes, splaying his fingers across the span of Cirrus’ lower back. As he breathes in, the familiar prickle of magick starts at the base of his spine and seeps into his pelvis, looping around his hips and warming him further between his thighs. Cirrus groans appreciatively at the sensation and feels himself get a little bit wetter. 

“That’s it,” Aether comments, rubbing his back and pulling at the harness some. “Just a little bit more.”

And all at once something clicks, like a part of him being reconnected. Aether makes a satisfied noise and pulls the hand on the strap away quickly, and the one on Cirrus’ back more slowly. He feels the magick settle and fade, that heat retreating back into his core.

“Can I open my eyes now?” Cirrus asks.

“Yeah. Try it out.” 

He blinks his eyes open and gives Aether a confused trill. “Like, you want me to—?” Cirrus moves to climb back on top of him, but the quint ghoul stops him with a hand to his chest. 

“No, no. Try it,” he says again with a coy look. His hand floats down Cirrus’ torso, grazing over his dark happy trail. “Just give it a little squeeze,” Aether breathes. His own fingers visibly itching to do just that. But he pulls away, watching the air ghoul eagerly. 

Cirrus gives him a suspicious yet amused look, rubbing back and forth over the harness straps. “Okay,” he lilts, lifting a hand and wiggling his fingers. He slowly wraps an elegant hand around the toy and squeezes lightly. 

And is wholly unprepared for the sensation that he’s met with—let alone the noise that comes out of his mouth. 

“F-fuck,” Cirrus hisses. His fingers spring away from the strap as if burned, shaking slightly as they stay hovering around the silicone. He felt it. Lucifer, he felt it. He felt the touch of his hand as if the toy cock were his own flesh, phantom nerves tingling and begging for more sensation. Hard and real in the palm of his hand. Just like that. Cirrus can’t resist touching again; just the pad of his finger this time, circling around the smooth head like he would do to his own. The groan he lets out is nothing short of indecent, and he has to grasp Aether’s shoulder to keep his knees from buckling.

“That feel good, Cir?” Aether asks huskily. He wraps his hand around his own, guiding it up and down the shaft. “Feels just right, doesn’t it?”

“Oh Belial, Aethe—” he cuts off with a groan when he makes him squeeze the base. “Fuck, ‘m so wet.”

“Yeah?” Aether reaches between his legs, and immediately the sound of his fingers running through his folds is wet, creamy. He groans along with Cirrus. “Gods, you are.” He coats the toy with the slick he’s gathered, and Cirrus thinks he might faint from the feeling. 

“Shit. Shit.” He can’t help when his hand speeds up, jerking the toy—himself—in earnest. He sinks lower onto his forearm, still resting on Aether’s shoulder, and presses his forehead to the bigger ghoul’s. Completely lost in it, breath fanning hot and heavy over the other’s face. 

He’s definitely not going to get even close to sticking it in. 

Aether hums and caresses his face sweetly. “That’s a good boy, so pretty like this,” he compliments. 

Cirrus lets out a pathetic uh huh and keeps stroking. It’s not coordinated in the slightest, but it feels good. Gliding over the full length, twisting his hand around, rubbing at the tip with just his palm, bucking his hips into his fist; every little movement goes straight to his core, and he fleetingly thinks he may be ruined for any sexual encounters after this. 

And it’s definitely some unholy miracle he’s not dripping onto the floor by now. 

Cirrus shakes his head against Aether’s as the heat starts to build, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open. “‘M gonna cum,” he half laughs, half wheezes. “Fuck, please—”

“It’s alright, go on and cum if you need to,” Aether tells him. “Just like that, come on.”

“Oh.” The air ghoul’s legs shake, and he throbs. His hand speeds up, focusing on the top half of the toy, yet pushing on it so the base of the strap presses right on his clit. The combination is what sends him over the edge, pleasure cresting and crashing so suddenly it nearly sends him to the ground in front of Aether’s feet when he cums. 

“I’ve got you,” he grunts, holding Cirrus up by the armpits as he bucks and groans. He may as well be shooting actual cum out of the thing, it feels that real—pleasure extending from his pelvis all the way through to the very tip, pulsing in time to the contractions of his cunt as if the two were truly connected. 

“Fuck, love, you must feel so good,” Aether says, equally proud and incredulous. Cirrus keens. He misses the hunger in his eyes, though, his own still shut tight as the spasms subside and he comes down from the toe-curling high. Cirrus is rarely one to feel uncomfortable in the vessel he was given, but Satanas, the induced feeling of having a cock to pull at is nothing short of euphoric. 

“Oh wow,” Cirrus finally gasps when he can breathe again. “Fuck, that was—” His legs finally buckle underneath him, but Aether’s got him, pulling him into his lap before he can hit the ground in a dizzy heap. 

“There we are, c’mere,” the quint ghoul soothes as Cirrus groans into his shoulder. “Feeling good?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, totally boneless. 

Aether hums. Tugs him minutely closer. “Loved watching you like that,” he breathes into his hairline. Carefully, he loosens the harness straps at Cirrus’ hips, slipping the elastic through the hardware so it separates and slides gently off his body. “Did so well.”

Cirrus makes a disappointed noise as he melts fully into Aether’s lap. “Didn’t get to use it, though,” he says quietly. 

“Hush,” the quint ghoul tuts. “Plenty more opportunity for that.” He rubs up and down his back, and pleasant goosebumps rise in the wake of his hands. Cirrus makes a sated mm-hmm in agreement, fully wrapping his limbs around Aether’s body and using his weight to make him fall back onto the mattress. 

“Argh,” Aether huffs as the air ghoul lands on top of him. He chuckles as Cirrus sprawls out, nuzzling into the curve of his neck. “What was that for?”

“Loved watching me like that, hm?” he mumbles. Despite the hazy cloud of pleasure that’s settled in his brain, his hands still find it within themselves to touch and squeeze down Aether’s torso. Cirrus places a sloppy kiss to the quintessence ghoul’s jawline and is rewarded with a soft, lovely sound. “How much?”

Aether lets out a shaky breath. “So much,” he breathes. Cirrus’ hands find their way to his hips and grab, fingers digging into the fat as he scoots further down. “Cir—”

The air ghoul shoves at him to move up the bed. Makes himself a home between his thick thighs. He shoves his arms under Aether’s legs and puts his face right above where that fat clit stands hard and needy between his folds. Aether groans. 

Cirrus smiles and whispers: “Lemme hear how much.”