#games slash activities in general

[angabby-zzz]

it like pretty much always includes gabby being the one to bring the game up btw like im not sure why. maybe its just cuz me and her are both gamer girls 🙄

i cant stop having ideas for them to play some kind of game on the quest 😭 but it would never make sense for them to play smth like monopoly or generally a longer game cuz theyre on the move or whatever. and why would they waste money on smth they prob wouldnt use more than once + smth theyd have to carry around all the time..... that and remembering the quest lasts about a week makes it even funnier

[sugar-petals]

⌈ pile I - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ pile II - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ pile III - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

🔓 select the tarot card that you noticed first.

⌈ NOTE 🌹 ➝ welcome to this extended nsfw reading. at the bottom of the deck i found the 5 OF WANDS (see below cut) so the overall theme is: teasing 😏 let’s find out what it means for you individually in your piles. what steamy thoughts are running circles in your person’s mind? tell me what you got and enjoy 🐝

[ deck used | the wonderful golden art noveau tarot by Giulia Massaglia — gilded example cards below, not the actual piles ]

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

the FIVE OF WANDS - today’s overall energy is playfighting. 

message. they want to give you a sexual challenge rather than indulging in a soft and hesitant mood: tease them right back and they’ll appreciate it. it’s all in good spirits as long as both play along. boldness is appreciated and keeps the chemistry running. 

no need to fear conflict, this is all friendly banter without the intent of hurting. behind all of that is the idea of testing limits + experimenting sexually through fun and activity rather than keeping it a guessing game what the other person might like. 

pile i - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS - THE EMPEROR - PAGE OF COINS - 3 OF CUPS

Oh hot damn… Lucky in Love or Drunk in Love are the type of lyrics I’m getting from this. Nothing prevents them from thirsting over you lmao but it’s a good thing! Because they’re confident in liking you so. Damn. Much. And they know you like them back. What a secure lover this person is becomes apparent in their ambitions: They reflect dedication. Meanwhile, they’ve got a balance of mature and outgoing/youthful energy alike. And I feel like they really went from being serious in your presence to just letting it all out! Good for them, because they’re on a roll since they met you slash made contact.

The main kink I’m seeing here is teacher and student, hands down. They are seriously into pretending there’s a difference in power, authority, knowledge, age, looks, all of that. Doesn’t have to be real, it can be roleplay, but they do consider you to be someone to look up to. They pleasure themselves like mad to those thoughts, honestly. The Daddy or Mommy kink is real in this one because whew, QUEEN + EMPEROR? That’s a big deal. You two are either two bold personalities coming together (or they fantasize about that, some major powerplay) or they identify you as that person who pulls all of their strings with little to no effort. Far from intimidated, they are ready to learn and enjoy because they’re your babe.

This person is not a starfish though. Happily under your spell, I can see them quite actively horny because wow Pile 1, their sex drive is just impressive, to say the least. Not scattered, just very strong in general. And they see you just like that as well. They know you are in charge, they feel that you’ll handle the shit out of them without hesitating. Boss of their body is what I’m hearing! Not an inch will belong to anybody else. They love how madly possessive they are.

At the same time, they also think you can learn together, it’s not so set in stone. I like that contrast in the cards. Sovereignty and mature sex versus being carefree and raunchy like a student party. Like they want you to pounce on them and dominate their every cell, but they also want to be your cute little pet to fool around with. I get the impression that this person worships the hell out of you and thinks you’re the best in bed, no matter your degree of experience. That’s the thing, they would be happy with a virgin and a sexpert alike, as I said they hardly care! Because you charmed them and made your standpoint clear! Even if you have a hot VERSUS stone-cold demeanor and sex appeal, they feel inspired by that.

Your sexual energies complement each other well I feel. In their mind, you could top them so easily. They gladly submit to an orgy of pleasure. I think they trust you a lot, they just want to lose control and be chased. They won’t chase you! You’re too prideful and want to set this up on your own terms. This relationship is yours to create, they won’t interfere. They’re too starstruck and want to gather their resources first, only to find out you’re tremendous fun to be with and they had nothing to worry about.

You are the sun of their universe Pile 1, you seduced them so much. If only you would boss them around, they want it so badly. This scenario could be a total clash of titans since you are both a total smokeshow in your own ways.  They looked at you and wanted you to open up, leave the stiff old life behind and feel younger again. Since you’re so foxy to them, they treat you like the bombshell you are, with lots of reverence and respect. I’m even getting service sub vibes from your person, Pile 1, they’ll just do whatever you ask `em like you’re royalty, long as it’s consensual of course, but I don’t get any toxic fantasies from this pile, just very dom-sub centered ones.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile ii - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ EIGHT OF SWORDS - KNIGHT OF WANDS - 6 OF COINS - PAGE OF CUPS

Whirlwind kind of romance right here, lots of ups and downs in their anxious mind. You left them feeling powerless to all the energy they perceive you to so blazingly have, Pile 2. They were thunderstruck by your presence, were frozen on the damn spot. Tied. Up. Which leads us to the card imagery, by the way. Bondage fantasies is a huge theme here. I’m just sayin’… That’s their sexual fantasy when they think of you. If you’d blindfold them, or try something like knife play, even (as the swords card indicates), that would get them going so much. Despite their freaky imagination, ironically they are the mellow one, while you are the fiery counterpart that doles it all out to them in their wet dreams.

As contradictory as it sounds, reciprocating and giving back is the dynamic here, though. For instance, if you bought stuff for them, they’d be so happy and fawn over you like wild. Since this is a rollercoaster ride, however… I can’t quite tell what exactly their constant feelings are for you, Pile 2, as they are just so changeable. From no sex drive to reckless abandon to self-control to begging to being a fool in love. What a journey they’ve been through because of you. You make them feel all of this, and they’re saying thank you.

One day they want to be controlled by you, the other, they want to unleash their passion without any help and do their own dance to impress you. They have an edge but they’re romantic, they’re hopeless and they’re hot shit, they’re fair and then such a tease giving you less than you deserve, full well knowing it will keep you hooked and coming for them like an avalanche.

They want you rushing to their home like it's the firefighters. Because well, well… they’re feeling way too hot, aren’t they. At the same time, that’s the puzzling thing, they also want you to keep them at an arm’s length. If you aren’t confused about this person yet, at this point, you gotta be: Which mirrors them, in fact. They don’t quite know what they want consistently, you left them too dumbfounded to understand the situation for sure. Pile 2, this individual is head over heels for you.

Now this starstruck person dreams about being acted upon by you and they love that. Pillow prince/ss is what I’m seeing all over the spread, they have that receptive energy for the most part. They might be a little unruly once they get out of their comfort zone or don’t feel like they’re acknowledged by you (they might as well have a come-save-me fantasy… do them a favor and help them out). But when they do get signals, they are back in love romantically, yes, not so much sexually, they’re touchy-feely like crazy. Just when they felt like roaming free before! If there’s some hunter-prey fantasy going on here I wouldn’t be surprised, they want to keep you on your toes.

As I said, you get the best of both worlds Pile 2, your person is not the predictable type. Maybe that’s why you like `em. They are flirts and then they’re not. They want rough sex and then they want affection little by little. But the final note in their mind is always this: They want you to glued to them, to go wild for them, to witness them like a fish in the water: Through requited love. All they want is to be asked out and live their dreamy, sensitive love. Confusing you is not their intention. Don’t forget they just want love at the end of the day.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile iii - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

⌈ KNIGHT OF COINS - PAGE OF SWORDS - THE SUN - THE EMPRESS

What started out as a sensual, stable connection which didn’t go down in flames of horniness now turned their head into a mush. Which then turned into them bursting with vitality! An online message of yours shook them up, or something you said. But in a positive way, because they’re so happy now. Romantic, personal, sexual bliss, they’re feeling so good about themselves because of you, the dull days are over. What a mood boost you gave them, and they’re confident in their looks because of your steady presence/communication, oh my word.

Because you started out easygoing and then picked up speed, they are absolutely feeling themselves like it’s nobody’s business. I’m so happy for you, Pile 3, because your person is just prancing around like a child after you’ve been frank with them. Talking it out was so needed. Approaching it from a headspace was. Being chatty with them made your person super hot and bothered, too. Hell, they are totally into your voice, the way you take your time when you walk, the way you carry yourself, how you dress up, the way your hair is tousled (if you wear it longer), how you treat yourself, how you choose your words, and how you smile especially.

At first, they were so scared how serious and single-minded you came across. Now they’re blushing and sweating their ass off because you said what you said and you paid attention to them! When they thought they were the knight in shining armor, you gave them a reality check and dodged the bullet, stood your ground instead of playing helpless — which worked in their favor not to get their hopes up and invest right away. That’s how you made this person’s libido explode. But in a good, wholesome way.

This proper mix of humor and the crazy slow burn (!) between the two of you has them going nuts without actually making them crazy, you know? Just healthy adoration and warmth they feel. I get the impression your person has lots of sexual stamina, Pile 3. They know what they’re doing, y’all… they might come across as a total sunshine, but they are, oh my word. Fertile as hell, go all the way, ready to make those babies and live the good life. In this economy? Your person thinks so, who am I to judge, they want that settling down and parenthood. They just know you’d be good at raising kids. But without compromising the mental stimulation, which you give them consistently.

And because you’re such a hottie with charm and good looks, they’re at your feet. You rule them! Your sex appeal has their pretty head spinning, their routine is broken, they can’t get enough of you, they want this in-depth (literally!). For long, they fantasized about having carefree sex with you out in nature, wild and free. Never too much of a good thing with you. You’re so juicy to them, graceful, steamy, gorgeous, you seem to have it all in their eyes. 

They think you have elevated status or just carry yourself in a way that shows your life is fulfilled and abundant. Oh hell, what don’t they like about you. Maybe you can be too direct and frank at times? They prefer your magnanimous, silly, soft, giving, cute’n’comfy side. They need to be taken care of a little, or need your cheer-ups. Because they want to take it easy, and not have conflict and difficulty in communication. Healthy, loving, and lasting (!) sexuality is the gist of this, I’m thinking. Quite Venusian of them, I see their sexual thoughts as Libra/7th house or Taurus/2nd house-themed. An all-around feel-good reading, Pile 3, I love the positive cards you got.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

FINAL NOTE. meet me in the reply section if you want, and if you got stuff i can improve about my PAC posts, drop a comment as well, i want to brush up my format again!

⭐️ DISCLAIMER // there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. 

© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. All readings for entertainment purposes only: They do not substitute any professional advice. Take what resonates, discard the piles that don’t hit home. If you aren’t drawn to any pile that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you. Do not repost my readings.

[jangmi-latte]

I don't usually simp for Lilia because the game has made me look at him as our friendly neighborhood grandpa, but like.... imagine meeting General!Lilia while he's on duty- and maybe he helps us with something or we help him out- and from there on a romance slowly blossoms? Just... active duty Lilia who's yet to become Lili-pa and the whole 'waiting for my friend who I want to be my lover to visit me during his break from duty'

FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD GRANDPA

good riddance mid-war/military romance?!?!? sign me up!!?!?? my brain has been going from camp-healer reader or to villager reader or subordinate reader or even agent reader (captain america and peggy carter type of romance)??? the possibilities are endless but since you emphasized helping we're going with villager who's also a healer reader.

/this can be descriptive and damn has it gotten long.

you can think of this being either fae or human reader but when you mentioned help, seeing an injured lilia who had to limp away from the camp after checking if his men are okay. so, he's in the middle of the woods hissing and sitting against a tree while lifting his clothing to see that big unhealing slash across his abdomen. the blood has already clotted but it's still dangerously huge and dirty and he's trying his best to heal it with his magic but it's concerning how he still feels the pain. plus, he needs to rest both his mana and body.

he will definitely try heating up one of his daggers to press on his wound but before he could even press the searing metal on his skin, that's when a hand stops him and pull the dagger away. it was a surprise, most especially for someone like him to be conscious of every single element around him.

you definitely look like a land of briar resident with your clothing. however, you look absolutely distressed and you're sweating so much it looked like you haven't bathed in days. he'd ask what are you doing but you keep your mouth shut and kneel down beside him. only then did he notice the belt strapped around your hips filled to the brim with antidotes and potions.

he's astonished, to say the least. he was in a daze while you're speaking and he was brought to his senses when he felt the burning sensation of liquid hitting his skin. it's literally smoking that he had to bite down on his gloved wrist to keep himself from screaming. his back arching off the tree while he's gripping your wrist. it hurt but hey, his wound his tingling and healing.

that's when he felt oddly...captivated by you. and as the old fae tradition goes, to he who was serviced must return the favor. he's just staring at you while taking deep breaths and you're looking around as if you're being watched. he assured you that you're safe with him and asked what do you want as gratitude for healing him but you just shook your head. stating that YOU are thanking him for defending the land.

all goes to say, he'd go to the said forest every now and then after you both departed, half-expecting to run into you. there were occasions he would see you crouched by a bush and plucking berries and herbs. he'd strike conversation, often surprising you with his silence and stealth. but eventually, you're warming up to him. he'd give you herbs you've mentioned needing that's only located across the other side of the land.

your presence was calming; during a war, peace was a far-fetched dream for a soldier, a general. when he's stressed, lacks sleep, and just exhausted he'd seek refuge in that very forest. he'd snap at you when you greet him but somehow, you're not affected. scary, yes. but you've known lilia from the constant meetings that you've brought some bottled mist that you claim can calm him down and give him a leveled-head again.

when he suddenly snaps his eyes open, that's when he realised he has fallen asleep without even noticing that he's definitely nonplussed. only then does he notice that he's laying on your lap while you're reading a book. he's bombarding you with questions but needless to say, he's really thankful.

baul would even notice lilia departing from the camp during breaks instead of eating with them that he's tempted to follow the general.

what can he do though? the general can find refuge somewhere else. more like...someone else.

to say he's catching feelings was questionable. other than malleficia, levan, baul, or mallenoa, he has never felt entirely close to someone outside of the royal guards or royalty. instinct driven need to protect you is there — that's what he feels towards the townsfolk anyways, that's what he tells himself.

just what have you done to the general...

might become a fic though 🫶🏻

[macabr3-barbi3]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL

We'll have a masterlist for everyone soon but AHHH I'm so excited! I'm so proud of everyone and so glad to have some new people join us in the server, everyone has done such a fantastic job and it was so cool to see everyone work through their ideas 💗

A huge thank you to my beloved @fraugwinska for planning and organizing this event with me and making us so many amazing graphics, and encouraging me when I hit a wall. And thank you to everyone who participated and has posted or will be posting soon! I love all of you 🩷 @redvexillum @ritualofcirice @chefskjssart @dewdropdinosaur @lumikello24 @xalygatorx @melodyonthewireless @kewpikayo @jurijyuu ❤️

For the fic that started the brainworms squirming, come check out Hex: Smile Like You Mean It!

Summary: Someone has noticed you noticing them. Tags: video-game typical violence, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, off-screen character deaths

He was watching you. Always watching you. 

Well- to be fair, he was always watching everyone. You knew when he was the trial's designated killer because you would catch the glint of a red light in the trees, a glare off the lens of a camera that watched you from the corner as you tried to work on a generator as stealthily as possible. Before you even had a chance to wipe the grease of the gears off your fingers he would be on you with a spark of electricity, razor sharp claws raking down your back or arm as you tried to get away with his distinct laugh ringing in your ears.

The other killers could be mindless- chasing you around the same rock or set of trees for minutes at a time while the others popped off generators left and right, absent obsession fueling their pursuit of you like they didn’t realize you were merely buying time for your friends. 

Vox was just as ruthless, but worse- he was smart. Cunning. Somehow he always knew which corner you were going to turn, which windows you were going to try and vault through, and despite your best efforts you could never get him close enough to a pallet to slam it on his head and bust that screen of his wide open. You had managed it one time, relishing in the satisfying crunch of shattered glass as he swore and you darted away.

Only for him to find you while you healed yourself and drop you onto a hook anyway, his smirk taunting and cruel before chasing your teammates away when they tried to rescue you.

And despite it all, you felt drawn to him. Not drawn enough to actively seek him out in a trial, but sometimes you would watch from the sidelines as he chased the others, follow his meandering path around the lodge at Mount Ormond from the balcony on the second floor. At first it was a macabre fascination- where had he come from? What had brought him here? How much of him was really a machine? Your curiosity regarding his body warped over time to a keen interest, and before you knew it the purpose of your eyes on him had changed- no longer just watching him to see where he carried your teammates off to but appreciating the way his muscles flexed and moved beneath his clothing, admiring the delicate lines of his claw tipped fingers when he grabbed the edges of a window to chase after someone.

This was why you felt you were different from his surveillance of everyone else- you knew he could see you when you did this, watching him the same way he watched you through the cameras, and he never altered his course when you engaged in this behavior. It was only when you were working on generators, healing your friends, doing the things that needed to be done in order to survive, that he would spring forth from the cameras and start slashing and taunting.

The first time you had felt that flash of heat through your core watching him lick a stray drop of your blood from his claws after he threw you on a hook, you had been so ashamed you didn’t even bother trying to keep the Entity’s claws from coming down for you, your teammates too far away to help anyway. It got easier to live with though, something new and dangerously exciting when you looked at him and imagined the way his body looked under his clothes, wondered how calloused his fingertips were and how they would feel dragging across your skin with the intention of pleasure rather than pain.

Almost like a punishment for daring to feel something other than fear and despair when you looked at him, the Entity wasn’t kind enough to give you chances to observe Vox all that often; time didn’t really exist in this realm, but it felt like you had been in back to back to back matches for days, only at the campfire long enough for your wounds from Pyramid Head in the Swamp to be reset before you were being whisked away to be locked into a head cage by the Pig at the meat plant. It was never ending, constant torture that had you exhausted, moving slowly and always fumbling on the generators; which in turn had your teammates upset with you, and they would leave you to bleed out on the ground or struggle on the hooks while the rest of them worked away at the generators all the way across the map.

This time, when you landed in Haddonfield and everyone took off without you, you opted to just stay out of sight- you would hide in lockers, maybe hole up in a car and just rest until the others had finished the generators or gotten themselves killed, depending on who the killer was. Then you could make your way to a gate or try to find the hatch as long as they didn’t find you first.

You hear Yun-Jin start a generator near you and sneak off in the other direction; a smart choice, since your heartbeat picks up not even a full fifteen seconds later, Yun-Jin’s scream echoing with the sound of Vox’s laughter as he tosses her onto the hook. 

You peek over the rock that you hide behind as he turns, brushing dirt off his suit and straightening his bowtie- when he looks up he locks eyes with you across the field, flashing you a wide, sharp-toothed smile before he zaps into the nearby camera and is gone, another scream from David sounding off shortly after.

Your heart is still, so you take the risk and head towards Yun-Jin crouched low to the ground, just in case he’s watching. Your arms shake as you help her down, and she doesn’t say anything before she’s rushing off, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. You sigh and kick at a rock on the ground, debating if you should follow her and offer assistance.

“Damn, not even a thank you? And you all think I’m brutal.”

You stumble to the ground in your haste to turn around, but he doesn’t rush at you- just watches, like he watches through the cameras, like he watches you watch him. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he scoffs. “I’m not here for you, doll- not yet.” He drops to a crouch in front of you, his screen so close you can feel the static on the screen making your hair raise; he brings his fingers up from the ground, wet and red with Yun-Jin’s blood. His face changes, pulling up a surveillance feed; you can see Yun-Jin in one little square, desperately trying to heal herself without assistance; David and Ace work on a generator in the basement of one of the buildings, not even glancing at the cameras that hold them in their glass stare. You’re half expecting him to spring suddenly, luring you into a false sense of safety, but it doesn’t come- a little cursor comes across the screen and clicks on the staticky image of the men and he’s gone.

You’re not going to assume he would let you escape twice, so you creep into one of the houses and find a locker in a room that didn’t appear to have any cameras. You should feel bad, you think, about simply hiding while the others tried to do what needed to be done to escape; but Yun-Jin hadn’t even said ‘thanks’ for risking your ass to pull her off the hook, and most of the other survivors never bothered to help you either since your exhaustion had started to get the best of your normally nimble fingers. A couple were reliable- Adam, Jane, and Claudette could usually be counted on to help get you out of a sticky situation- but these three in particular that you were facing Vox with? They could help themselves.  

The others are too far away to hear them scream, but the two booms that ripple across the map when two of your teammates are sacrificed to the Entity can be heard from anywhere. There’s a scuffle outside the house and David stumbles in, bleeding from a deep gash in his back- a crackle of electricity and Vox is right after him, another swipe of those sharp claws dropping him to the floor. Vox peers at the locker in front of him- like he can see you through the slats, he winks before he picks David up and leaves the room to find a hook.

You should run. Flee the locker before he came back, your heart kicking into overdrive as the final sound rings out that tells you David is gone.

You don’t get a chance. The door to the locker is yanked open, and there stands Vox, his arms resting on the top of the opening and leaning in so that he’s all you can see, so you can’t escape. “Looks like you’re our lucky winner!” He says cheerfully, sounds like an old-timey game show sounding off from his screen, and he reaches into the locker to grab your arm. “How handy- I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you, my dear. Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, shall we?”

Connected as you are, when he flashes into the camera you’re pulled with him- left with a feeling not unlike laughing gas at the dentist when you’re deposited into the living room of one of the houses. “Have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the couch before you as you wobble on your feet. When you turn jerkily, only half a thought in your head saying to run, his grip on your arm tightens; he turns you to face him, other hand coming up to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. “Sit down.” He says firmly this time, and the red of his eye is swirling with black lines that seem to say trust me trust me trust me.

You sit, and Vox looks surprised. “Fuck, I didn’t think that would work,” he laughs. “That’s good to know.” He looks thoughtful for a moment before he drags the nearby armchair to sit in front of you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees while you watch one another. “Something to try in a trial sometime, maybe-”

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask, and he laughs loud and fake in the overwhelming silence of the room.

“I’m just trying to have a conversation! I gotta tell ya, I was having a lot of fun chasing you and your friends around but it was starting to get a little stale- and then there you are!” He gives you a wide smile, the sharpness of his teeth glinting in the low light of the house. “Always looking at me from behind trees and shit while I hunt down your teammates, watching me from the balconies and through windows- I know all about surveillance but it’s enough to make a man blush, sweetheart.”

His words make you blush- you had figured that he knew about you watching him, but not that he had picked up on your… interest. You try to stammer out a rebuttal and he laughs, waving you down with a mischievous look in his eyes. “None of that denial,” he chides. “I’m not here to judge; I’m quite flattered.” He winks at you again, the swirl of his eye lazy but not compelling you in any way, merely holding you in its gaze. “And that brings me here with a proposition! Mutually beneficial to the both of us, I can assure you.”

“What… do you want?” You ask cautiously, and his smile turns wicked, red drool dripping from the corners of his mouth.

He shocks you by stripping off the vest he wears over his white shirt, tossing it over his shoulder. “I’m a performer at heart, doll- the nature of a man in news means I love an audience, and an audience of one can be exciting in the right context.” He leans back into the armchair and pops a few buttons on his shirt, running his hands down his chest to the belt buckle that rests at the center of his waistband. “I want you to do what you’ve been doing so well lately- watch me.”

His belt clinks as he undoes the buckle, and your mouth runs dry. He teases electric blue claws against the zipper, a growing bulge under the seam that’s obvious to your eyes in the dim light of his screen. “What’s. What’s the mutually beneficial part here?” You ask, only stammering a little, and he chuckles low and dark.

“Depends,” he murmurs, “do you think the ‘show’ is your good part or mine?” He brushes his fingers against the outline of his cock, having hardened further under your watchful gaze, and a groan crackles out of his throat, staticky and harsh.

“It could be both,” you say absently, watching him finally draw the zipper down- the glowing that comes from his lap should be off-putting, but it’s not. You clench your thighs together, resisting the urge to rub them for some attempt at friction when his hand dips inside of his slacks and pulls his length out; hard, leaking from the tip until he swipes a dark blue thumb over it which a moan, a soft neon glow that seems to come from somewhere inside.

“It’s actually meant to be yours,” he says, “which means you’re kinda leaving me hanging here, sugar.” He stretches a leg across the expanse between your chair, knocking his foot against your feet to move them to the sides, the sweatpants you wear stretching tight across your lap as he essentially kicks your legs apart. “We should both be getting something out of this.” 

You catch his meaning, only hesitating for a moment before shifting enough on the couch that you can start shimmying your pants down past your knees. 

“Gimme a real show, doll,” he whispers roughly, dragging his fist up and down his cock slowly. “Let me see you.” His other hand finishes unbuttoning his shirt, the skin that he exposes a deep navy, littered with scars that only serve to draw your attention more fully to him. His claws tease over a glowing nipple- was that a USB port? - and the action causes sparks that rain down his abdomen.

You keep your gaze on him as you brush lightly against your clit through your panties, the shock of pleasure making your hips jerk. You apply more pressure, a swift circling around the sensitive nerves, and a moan breaks free of the barrier of your lips. Vox meets it with one of his own, the fist around his cock stroking earnestly, the fingers of his free hand trailing up and down his body, coming down to cup and squeeze his balls while he watches you.

“Fuck me, that’s fucking sexy,” he growls, his voice like gravel- his eyes are narrowed in between your legs like a man possessed, the intensity of his gaze like fire, like lightning. Your entire body is flushed, dripping with sweat when you copy him and let your free hand cup your breasts, tease the nipples through your thin shirt. “You like having eyes on you, sweetheart? Pull those little panties aside, show me what you like.”

You do as he asks, pulling the gusset of your soaked blue panties to the side and trailing a finger through the slickness of your folds. Your breath leaves you in shaky gasps as you press a digit inside, the angle not quite right for hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. It had been so long since you had indulged in a little self pleasure, certainly at least before you had been swept up in the fog and taken to the entity’s realm; even with the thoughts you had had about this man you had never gone so far as actually touching yourself with the lack of privacy around the campfire and in the trials. The touch alone was good, but to have Vox watching you so closely, the wet sounds of him stroking his cock mingling in the air with those that came from your fingers pressing desperately into your cunt, a second joining the first too soon, was burning bliss that raced through your veins. 

His tongue hangs from his mouth, drool dangling obscenely from the end of it; he leans forward enough that it drips over his prick, the added wetness making everything so much louder as his rhythm sped up. “Come on, sweetness, fuck that pretty pussy for me,” he pants, his eyes glued to where your fingers begin thrusting into yourself, the drip of your arousal leaking from your stretched entrance. “Nice and loud so the camera picks it up.”

Your eyes dart to the surveillance camera in the corner of the room that the two of you had come jolting out of, the lens wide and glaring and pointed right at you. “You’re recording?” You ask breathlessly, hot desire flashing through you at the idea of him coming back to this moment between trials, looking at a playback of you fucking yourself on your fingers like a whore just because he told you, because he wanted to watch you do it. 

“She won’t let us stay here forever,” he says, a harsh grunt tearing free of his throat as his strokes pick up speed, slick, rhythmic sounds that echo in your ear and make your head slow and fuzzy. As he says it, the whole realm seems to creak and groan and shift, like reaffirming that the Entity was displeased with how you were using her little world of chaos. “Just getting a little something to tide me over til next time.”

Next time. A moan slips from between your lips, letting yourself lean back further against the cushions so you can angle your fingers correctly to brush against the textured spot of sensitive tissue inside. “What’s the plan for next time?” You inquire, watching his fingers glide effortlessly over the illuminated flesh of his cock- he seems to harden further at your words, leaking from the tip in a way that makes your mouth water. With any luck, your next encounter would involve actually getting to touch him; to feel all that hard flesh under your hands, raking divots into his skin, tasting the salty musk of his precum on your tongue before sinking into his lap. Your cunt flutters uselessly around your fingers, pleasurable but not enough when you think about being stuffed full with the promising erection that Vox held in his fist.

“Once I get rid of your little friends,” he says in a stage whisper, “I’m going to d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊s̩͙͖̋͛͟t̴͕͖͓̀r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚y̯̤͑́́̓́ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈.” His hand flies in slick strokes over his cock as he races towards completion, the pixels of his eyes not even blinking as he watches you desperately try to shove your fingers further, reach as deep as you knew he would. The corruption of his voice, like his internal system was at its very limits, makes you clench hard around your fingers, arousal burning in every bit of skin that was under his gaze. “Bend you over the closest surface and fuck you stupid- make sure every time you catch a glimpse of my cameras you remember being stretched around my prick and b͔͔̳͈̊̆ͥ͂͜͝ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ m̰̰̹͚̙̂ͦ͗͠ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ to cum.”

Your legs tremble, muscles tensing as your orgasm barrels closer. “Oh God,” you moan, so close that every part of you aches with the need for release- your head thrashes against the cushions of the couch, nerves overstimulated and raw and eyes locked on where his thumb brushed against his head, the entire length twitching in his grip as he watches you in turn.

“Or maybe I’ll let them live and fill up that sweet mouth first,” he grunts, “see if your muscle memory is good enough to do a generator while I fuck your face- better not fuck it up unless you want your teammates to see you g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ for a killer’s cock-” Static flashes across his screen, a sudden snowstorm that glitches his face out before he lurches forward, his free hand gouging deep gashes into the arm of the couch you lay across. “F̵̦̺͕́̐͟û̶͙̽̿͆̈c̷̹͖͋́̃k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟, g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞ c̷̹͖͋́̃û̶͙̽̿͆̈m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡--”

The camera in the corner goes dark as he spills over his fingers, the glow lightly flashing up the length of his shaft with every pulse into his hand- his release splashes across your bared skin, hot and thick, a deep, dark flash of arousal through your core at the sensation. You’re a hair trigger away from your own orgasm when he pulls his claws from the couch arm and stills your hands. The burning pleasure cools, frustration taking its place at his interruption until you see his face has come back, his eyes dark and drool dripping from the edges of his razor sharp teeth.

“Open those lips for me, sugar,” he says softly, and you do so with no hesitation; his claws slip between your lips and over your tongue, the salty, musky taste of his cum overwhelming your senses. You try in vain to get your fingers moving again, Vox’s hand squeezing lightly to deter the attempted movements. “Suck,” he says darkly, his left eye glowing red and swirling, but you’d have done it even without the compulsion that weaved through your mind, so desperate for whatever pleasure he could give you that you’d do whatever he asked. 

You apply the suction he’s requested, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your tongue between his fingers, licking every drop of his release that you can find. He keeps those fingers in your mouth and uses his other hand to knock yours away from your pussy, careful with his claws as he tears your soaked panties from your body and swipes his fingers through the slick of your arousal. You moan around his fingers when he slides a digit into you, long and strong and immediately putting pressure right where you need it, where you couldn’t properly reach before. “That’s fucking right,” he growls, and the gravel in his voice has your cunt clamping down on him when he pushes another finger in, thrusting fast and hard- the coil in your abdomen tenses, drool and humiliating noises escaping through your parted lips as he drags you to the edge. “Go on, baby, fucking s̩͙͖̋͛͟c̷̹͖͋́̃r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ f̷̵̫̞̉͢ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊…”

Your orgasm rips through you like a hook to the shoulder, every muscle clenching hard, your soft inner walls fluttering as Vox’s hand is drenched. Your veins are alight with electric pleasure that’s prolonged with every additional push of his fingers fucking in and out of you, his thumb coming up to brush insistently at your clit. The added sensation toes the line of too much, the pleasure almost painful as he works you straight through one orgasm to another, his eyes- and the camera- never leaving your body as it seizes up again, Vox’s presence finally leaving your mouth so you can whimper and cry his name loud enough to echo in the empty house.

When he finally withdraws from the clutch of your pussy, his fingers are soaked and dripping with your release- he brings them to his mouth, long tongue darting out to lick you from his skin. He slides a hand under your head and tilts your face to the corner of the room. “Smile pretty for the camera,” he says, letting his tongue trail around the shell of your ear, and you feel a fucked out grin steal across your features before he lets you collapse into the cushions again.

Everything is pleasant and fuzzy- your body still tingles from the aftershocks of two vigorous orgasms, and Vox’s arms are strong and muscular under your back as he lifts you. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and he’s repositioning you to rest against his shoulder, standing and lifting you from the couch with ease. “Fuck, I knew you’d be good for me. Stay just like that, yeah?” He makes his way through the house, and as you walk you can hear the hum of the hatch- it seemed like now that you had both finished, he was going to let you escape…

But your eyes open when the hum of the hatch fades, Vox’s grip still strong on your waist as he also bypasses the exit gate. “Um- Vox?” You crane your neck to see him striding purposefully towards the hook in the middle of the road, the Entity’s claws already poised and ready above it. 

Panic overrides the soft pliancy that had taken over your body, immediately struggling against the firm hold that he had on you- but you’d never managed to successfully wiggle free of him in any trial. “Don’t be like that,” he chides you, your movement at least pulling him a little off course. “It’s nothing personal, doll- we had a good time together but at the end of the day, business is business! Gotta answer to the lady upstairs- don’t hold it against me next time.” He passes by a pallet, and in a surge of desperation you reach for it- your fingers just manage to catch it, pulling hard so it slams into his body, a solid sound that echoes in the empty realm.

It’s enough- just barely, but it’s enough. His grip loosens and you drop from his shoulder, and you take the brief moment of his confusion to slam his head down hard into the wood. It breaks under the force of him, the sound of shattering glass and cursing filling your ears before you dart away on shaky legs, not waiting to see the aftermath.

The hatch isn’t far away, and you see him stand from where you had slammed him down- cobweb fractures span across his face, and his eyes are fractured and angry in every piece of broken glass visible. “It’s nothing personal,” you call to him, and you can see the pieces of his expression glitch out- whether it’s shock, anger, admiration, you can’t tell, but you aren’t going to take the time to figure it out. “Don’t hold it against me next time!” You drop into the darkness of the hatch, his frustrated scream echoing in your head as he fades from view.

[charmwasjess]

My tiny mountain town is a blue dot swallowed up in a sea of red. Our statistically-irrelevant town went for Harris. The larger counties around us all went for Trump. Here’s what this election looked like in the southeastern Appalachian on the front lines of that cultural divide: 

Outright unprosecuted voter intimidation: in the few blocks walk from my house to downtown, I can see a prop skeleton dressed as a Harris supporter hanging from a noose, and Harris yard signs slashed with a knife, others just ripped down to the cardboard.

Gerrymandering - years ago, these little-known poorer districts were redrawn around population centers in ways that give likely Republican strongholds more weight, particularly in rural areas like mine. Republican lawmakers literally have opened prisons in rural counties in my state to artificially inflate population numbers with people who can’t vote due to their felon status to tip the scales.  

Of course, the Electoral college, where US votes are decided by weight of a state’s respective collective population and importance rather than just the counted individuals votes

I’m not making excuses. I echo the rest of the world’s collective disgust and horror about the outcome. I am literally sick with my country. People will die because of this. People who don’t live here, people who didn’t get a choice or stake in the US elections, and who probably wish they’d never heard of the place. And people in my own community. 

Yet it is so easy to picture this election as the ultimate triumph of laziness and inattention, particularly in “ignorant hillbilly” places like where I live, which generally go for Trump without any fight - at least not one that shows up on an election night map. But the Republican right has been working for decades to put the legal, economic, and societal pressures that lead to this in place here. 

We fought hard. Grassroots campaigners, our organizers of LGBTQIA+ groups, leaders in our communities who showed up despite the fact that it put a target on their backs if shit went bad. Teachers fighting Republican-led mandates of ignorance and racism to choke out any thinking that might interfere with their political goals for their ideal voter base. Librarians who get death threats for having kid’s books dealing with gender or queerness in the public libraries. 

These are not imagined examples, these are things that happen to real people I know in my tiny blue community. And the violent, right-wing party, the party that promised to make this second Trump term one of revenge and retribution, knows who those people are too. 

The Charlottesville “Ignite the Right” attack happened in my backyard. I had friends on that street when a self-described neo nazi drove into a crowd and killed Heather Heyer and injured 35 others. Trump was president when it happened; he called the alt-right who invaded Charlottesville with guns and armor and torches that day “good people.” 

I have no faith in my party now. It feels like we’re still trying to play a game we lost years ago, while the other side is busy winning a new game, one where they get to make up all the rules. 

I realize that there are greater global trends at play - incumbents being ousted, a swing to the right, post-pandemic economic scrambles - larger issues than the difficulties of voter suppression in my rural American communities. I'm not in a great mindset to consider them this week. I've been politically active since I was old enough to vote, and it feels like we always build so much momentum and then slam facefirst into this fucking invisible wall.

Honestly? I’m so tired and depressed and anxious, I feel like I can barely function right now. At the same time, I’m disgusted by my own despair and whining. What gives me the right to stop trying now, when so many people across the globe are facing the same anger and exhaustion? When so many people are in more active danger, with less options than I have?

Anyway, I wanted to write something out about the election, maybe just to let go of the words and get them out of me. I'm a queer politically active liberal in a Republican-dominated rural space. Next week, I'll read all the posts about hard work and hope and building support networks. This week, I just need a fucking minute on the floor.

[cabinofimagines]

Better Times p. 1

As I have noticed people on this blog often don't read the longer works I split this one up. Happy birthday to me, y'all are getting hurt >;-) Pairing: Poly!Solangelo x gn!reader, Will Solace x reader x Nico di Angelo Request: halli hallo~ ^^ i wanted to ask if i could request something for solangelo x reader? i'm not sure if your requests are open, i couldn't find anything that said otherwise, maybe i read over it, or forgot a page? if that is the case i apologize! but if they are open, then i was thinking that the reader is just having an off week in general, things are just not going their way, and worst of all, their boyfriends are busy TwT then when the week is over, one of them senses that there's something wrong with the reader, but as soon as they get asked what's wrong, they just start full on sobbing- cuddling ensues? TwT solangelo is my biggest source of comfort right now, and the posts of them from this blog are always so cute and fluffy ^^ Word count: 1.8k Warnings: bad feelings, sad feelings, hurt (not yet comfort). -Asnyox Part 2

You would think that living at camp wouldn’t necessarily be more stressful than going out in the ‘real’ world. However, the distinction between chores and free time was non-existent. Therefore, you weren’t sure whether you were supposed to be working, taking time off and most of all forcing your boyfriends to take a break with you. It was impossible to convince them, because either of them had good reasons that what they were doing wasn’t too exerting of them, or should be put off until after you hung out. For Nico and Will finishing their duties meant free time, and the problem here was that it felt as if they were never finished with their duties, and neither were you. 

In short, you would have loved to spend some time with your boyfriends. Yet, Nico was busy relocating the troglodytes after their old home got destroyed, and Will was busy restocking the infirmary before summer. You were busy, being alone. You didn’t blame your boyfriends, of course they were allowed their own lives and tasks, and you respected that they were capable of doing their own tasks. You would just have liked to be able to relax with them for a bit, just a hug perhaps. 

It came to the point where Nico even paused your morning sword training sessions (did those count as a free time activity?), and Sherman stepped up to the game. You tried to kindly decline, but he didn’t take no for an answer. After your initial problems when training with Sherman, he seemed to have calmed down and gotten to a more ‘teaching’ approach. However, this did not mean that he would be pulling punches, or slashes in the case of sword fighting. 

That was how you ended up in the infirmary, under the worried gaze of your lover. Will carefully stitched the slash on your arm as you tried to stay silent. This was the most one-on-one attention you had gotten from Will in what felt like weeks, and you wanted it to not be a worrying experience for Will. Who were you kidding though, you were hurt so of course Will was worried. 

“Here, eat this,” Will softly held some ambrosia to your mouth. You carefully put your lips around it, grazing Will’s fingers in a soft kiss. Will used his other hand to grab your jaw, his thumb slowly moving over your cheek. You wished Will would kiss your wounds better, but he didn’t seem to get the hint. 

“Thanks,” you breathed and Will’s worried eyes softened. “Maybe you should wait with training until Nico gets back,” Will looked at you intensely, “You know, he might get jealous if you keep training with Sherman?” you laughed, although you wished Nico was there to get jealous, and take you away, and spend time with you. You hoped it didn’t show on your face. “Well I need to keep up,” you tried to push away the flutter in your chest, “You never know when a Sherman shaped monster tries to get me,” then you sighed, “I wish Nico was here more, but I know he’s busy.” Will hummed, as he turned to put away some of the supplies he used. 

“We can maybe plan a date soon.” Will suggested, “We all have been busy for a while now, it would be nice to just have some time with the three of us.” You nodded in agreement, starting to stand up. “Do you have anything planned outside of your infirmary shifts?” Will asked as he looked at you. “Training with Sherman, mostly. Everything else I can probably move.” you said and Will nodded. “Cool, me too. Whoever sees Nico first plans the date then?” he asked and you nodded again. But as you left the infirmary you already missed the shine of Will’s smile, and you sighed as you felt an unexplainable sadness in your chest. You considered turning back for a moment, before you noticed hurt campers coming your way. Right, Will was working and did not need a distraction. You moved out of the way, not sure where you were going. 

Just suck it up, you thought. You did not need to add to their list of chores. You were going to be fine. 

But, as you were laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling of your cabin, you realized something. You were tired, wanted to cry, and still had tasks to do. So, you decided to make a deal with yourself. If you finished your tasks, you could skip the campfire and indulge in some healthy letting-your-emotions-out time, on your own. Sighing you sat up, took a breath, and went to face the world. 

Maybe you wanted to share some parts, but that would once again make it about you. If you could simply make today a good day then it will start getting better right, slowly? Just one good day, filled with love, spent with your boyfriends. 

Will was the one to catch Nico, and informed you that all three of you had time for a date a few days later. You hadn’t looked forward to the wait, but a few days was at least a set time instead of wallowing in the impossibility of seeing your lovers ever. Yet, as you met up with them, Nico didn’t seem too happy to see you. He wasn’t smiling, instead he stared at you intently. 

“(Y/n), love, are you okay?” he asked when you were within earshot. Will was next to Nico, already holding his hand. Nico wasn’t sure how to breach the topic, but Will and him had talked for a moment already and Will had voiced his worry about you not sharing your troubles. Nico saw what he meant, you looked restless and tired at the same time and there must have been something going on. 

“I’ve been,” you hesitated, “... tired.” Was this really the moment to admit it? You had been so strong for the week, and you just wanted some chill, fun time with your boyfriends. So, even if you felt like if you closed your eyes you might either sleep or cry, perhaps both, you didn’t want to talk about your emotions. Talking about them meant feeling them, and feeling was an activity you weren’t affording yourself right now. You want to feel fine, perhaps get a kiss, and move on so you could get these emotions out in a way that wouldn’t upset your boyfriends. 

Not that they would ever be upset about you having feelings, no, you didn’t want them to spend the day meant for fun times feeling bad about the fact that you perhaps had missed them, had felt a bit neglected in the past week. You knew they would feel guilty about not noticing your mental state deteriorate in the past week, or that you hadn’t told them about your breakdowns at night, or that you had not considered asking for as much as a hug in the past week because if you were to be safely in the arms of one of your lovers, you knew you would not be able to hold in the tears and hold up the walls that barely contained your emotions. These walls would need to keep standing until after you forcefully had fun with your boyfriends on a cute date with no emotional baggage shared. You wanted to be happy today. But-

“Are you sure that’s all?” Nico’s voice broke your thoughts. “Yes!” you answered a little too quickly, “Let’s get going, okay? We can talk more when we’ve put out everything for the picnic. Would hate to have our date cut short by the dinner bell, right?” Your boyfriends exchanged a look. “Are you sure, love?” Will grabbed your hand, “we can always hold the picnic in Nico’s cabin, have a bit more comfort.” You sighed, before softly grabbing Will’s face, and pressing a kiss on his lips. “All I am sure of is that I just want the comfort of my boyfriends during a picnic,” you smiled softly, feeling slightly undone by the kiss you just instigated. Oh, how you had longed for that, “Okay?” 

So, you went out together. The sun shined on you and you could feel how it was energizing you. The blanket was laid down, the food spread out, and most importantly, you were sitting between your boyfriends for the first time in a long while. 

Between the strawberries, hand holding and cuddles you finally felt at ease. You were glad that neither of your boyfriends pressed the matter of your well-being, even if you found them staring at you a little more than usual. But it was nice, conversation flowed freely. 

“How have the troglodytes been?” you asked, and Nico perked up. “They’re adjusting really well!” Nico probably was unaware that he was smiling. He tended to look younger when he got excited, and he truly did love the troglodytes, “They had been sad about losing some of the hats but have found ways that even I don’t know yet to get new hats.” “That’s cute.” Will said, although you knew he had had some reservations considering the troglodyte business- mostly because he didn’t like how Nico somehow always seemed paler whenever he came back from visiting them, as if Nico didn’t take good care of himself when he went to them. “It truly is,” Nico hummed, “maybe we could visit them someday.” you could see that he was excited for the prospect. “Maybe,” Will said and you hit him lightly on his arm. “I would love to, Nico.” you told him, and Nico nodded, a little less excited at Will’s answer. 

Eventually the sun started shining a little less, and you knew the day was coming to an end, feeling dread form as you were packing up. You kissed your boyfriends, before each of you went to your respective tables at the dining hall. Nico had said he still had to fix something with the troglodytes, one of the last things he promised. Will had offered to sit together at the campfire with you today, but you truly did feel tired. You couldn’t pinpoint why, so you excused yourself quickly, brushing off Will’s worried inquiries, before going to your cabin, laying in your bed. Today was fun, and good, yet you still felt like sobbing. Tears were already forming as you simply thought about the fun times you had during the day, the soft kisses and how your boyfriends looked at you. Gods, you loved them so much, but why were you crying? If today was good, why wouldn’t it fix whatever made you feel like this? Why, why, why?

[talbaquix]

A layman's guide to olympic fencing—

for writers, artists, olympic fans, or the otherwise curious.

disclaimer: i say layman for a reason! i'm not at all a professional, or even good, but i have been fencing (very) recreationally at an amateur level for ~7 years. also, my exposure to sabre is extremely limited, and i am speaking from an american POV, so please feel free to correct me on any points you see necessary. :)

long post incoming...

So, what is "Olympic fencing?"

First and foremost, it is a sport. Not a fight, not a duel—a sport. One of five that have been permanent fixtures since the very first modern Olympic games, actually—hence the name! While other similar sword-wielding activities (such as historical European martial arts (HEMA), kendo, or wushu for example) may occasionally be referred to as "fencing," most people (me included) define fencing as this specific sport, and use other classifiers to categorize the rest.

Originally, fencing began as a form of military training in Germany and Italy, before spreading recreationally across more areas in Europe. Currently, the fencing scene is almost uncontestedly dominated by Italy, France, and Hungary, though both China/HK and the US have had some pretty stellar wins more recently.

In addition, French has a pretty large influence on fencing terminology and language, at least in the West. Be prepared!

The Basics

Three Weapons

Fencing is divided into three disciplines, each with their own equipment, strategies, and ruleset. They are as follows:

Épée: The classic. The heaviest and most defensive of the three blades, épée's simple ruleset allows for more elaborate strategy and really lives up to fencing's moniker of "physical chess." In épée, the entirety of your opponents body (including face, toes, etc!) counts as valid target area and all hits must be scored with the tip of the blade. In case of a double-touch (relatively simultaneous hits from both opponents), both opponents score points.

Because there's no need for specific target areas, épéeists enjoy minimal equipment, forgoing lamés (electric jackets, pronounced luh-may) and mask cords in exchange for a larger bell guard to protect the hand (that big bit of metal at the end of the blade). Épéeists can use pistol grips for more point control (molded to fit a hand), or a french grip to get a little bit of extra distance (red stick grip).

Épée bouts are stereotypically known for being slow and boring, since the absence of right-of-way (explained later) allows more freedom in trying to sus out opponent reactions and strategize, and the whole-body target + double-touch system means there's more benefit to fencing slowly in comparison to sabre or foil. It's not uncommon for épée bouts to begin with both fencers being carded for passivity! There's a lot of bouncing back and forth in the middle.

Saber (Sabre): Fast, slashing, and aggressive. The fencing you see in movies? Sabre. It's the only cutting weapon, where the entire length of the blade is able to register contact with the opponent. In sabre, the target area is the upper half of the body (including the face, but excluding the hand) and their lamés reflect that. Sabre also employs what is known as right-of-way/priority/advantage (from here on abbreviated as RoW) which, in the case of a double-touch, essentially gives RoW—and therefore the point—to the "aggressing" fencer at the referee's discretion. RoW is pretty complicated, but is very influential in how both sabre and foil play out.

In their ready (en garde) position, sabreists also hold their blade vertically to protect the face (as opposed to foil and épée, where the blade is held horizontally to keep the point towards the opponent). Sabreists also need special masks to register hits, as well as a mask cord to connect it to the rest of the electric circuit. Sabre bell guards are kinda swoopy and extend downward (think pirates) and are always "french grips" (aka just a stick).

Sabreists are generally known for being (respectfully) batshit insane and dramatic as hell. Bouts are extremely fast (rarely more than a few seconds) and look simple, and rely much more on pure athleticism and fast reaction times than épée. Most bouts consist of the two fencers running towards each other, maybe a parry or two, then both fencers scoring hits with a fair bit of screaming and angrily pointing at the ref. Oh wait, did I say running? Sorry, I meant advancing, since sabre is also the only discipline where crossing-over with your legs got banned because people just started sprinting towards the middle instead of actually fencing. Love them for that.

Foil (Fleuret, rarely): Oh, foil. The artistic middleman. Originating as a practice weapon, foil tends to sit in the middle of épée's careful point-control and elaborate strategy and sabre's split-second reactions and fuck-it-we-ball energy. Yet somehow, it ends up being more nit-picky and complicated than both. It has the smallest target area of the three, only covering the torso, as well as the lightest blade. Touches are only registered from the tip.

RoW's influence is noticeably large, since, compared to sabre, the longer bout times actually allow for opportunity for RoW to be traded between you and your opponent. Foil can almost be thought of as turn-based combat. Fencer A initiates the attack first, now has RoW, lunges and misses, which gives RoW to Fencer B. Fencer B attacks, gets parried (back to Fencer A), A extends, B counterattacks, A gets the point.

Foil stereotypes aren't as strong as épée or sabre stereotypes, but foilists are generally known for either being super pedantic and arguing w/ the ref about RoW or whipping their blade around constantly & being flowery (hence, "fleuret"). Because of how bendy the foil is, foilists can also do cool stuff like flicks (snapping your wrist so that the blade bends around, oftentimes to hit your opponents back) and can also get into pretty funny in-fighting situations a bit more often than sabre/épée (since corps-a-corps contact isn't allowed in fencing, and stepping back means you lose RoW, there's a lot of awkward up-close poking).

Some Positions

En garde: the basic fencing position. In essence, a squat, with one foot facing forward and the other turned out, roughly one and a half foot-lengths apart. This is the basis from which all other movements—the lunge, the advance, the retreat—should be executed, and the position fencers return to once an action is completed.

Lunge: the quintessential fencing attack. From en garde, extend your dominant arm, kick out your front foot, land forward, and extend your back arm for balance. To recover, bend your back leg and return to en garde.

Parry: the most basic piece of defensive bladework that every fencer learns, with the "beat" serving as its offensive counterpart. Consists of hitting your opponents blade to prevent a touch. There are nine different parries in classical fencing, but the most common (in foil/épée) are the four and six, which defend the inside and outside lines respectively.

Ettiquette & Other Fun Facts

All fencers must salute their opponent, referee, and audience (if there is one) before and after the bout. Usually just consists of "nodding" at the salutee with your blade before the mask is donned. At the end of bouts, a handshake with your opponent using your non-dominant hand is also expected. Many people substitute/add on to the handshake by tapping blades instead.

Unlike in tennis, seeing a fencer hold up a one on their hand after a touch is an acknowledgement of the opponent's point, whereas a closed fist is a claim of theirs.

When fencing without a ref, many people will slap their thigh to indicate the start of a bout.

Fencers may not speak while the mask is on.

Fencing clubs are also sometimes called salles.

While electrical equipment can vary between disciplines, all fencers are required to wear knickers, a plastron (under-arm protector), a body cord, a jacket, a glove, and a mask. For women, a plastic chest protector is also required. In sabre and foil, fencers also wear a mask cord and lamé.

The first safety rule most fencers learn is to never raise your blade towards someone without a mask on, and it's taken pretty seriously. Because the back of a mask is exposed, its also a big big no-no to turn your back to your opponent during a bout or otherwise lower your head.

Common Terminology

En garde, prez, allez! - On guard, ready, fence! Used to signal the start of a bout.

Halt! - Said by referees to. halt the bout.

Strip/piste - The surface on which fencers fence. Usually around 2m wide and 14m long, the lines on the piste also dictate where fencers must move to to begin bouts, and where they're considered out-of-bounds. Sometimes, they're on raised platforms. Yes, people have fallen off, yes, it's extremely funny.

Feint - Probably what you think it is.

Disengage - Moving your blade in a little circle to avoid contact with what is usually an incoming parry/beat. On a very basic level, straight attacks beat disengages, disengages beat parries, and parries beat straight attacks.

Fleche - An explosive running attack. Due to not being able to cross-over, sabreists use "flunges" instead, a mix between a fleche and a lunge that essentially entails flinging yourself at your opponent in a flying lunge.

Balestra - hop :)

Riposte - An immediate attack done after a defender's parry. Usually heard as "parry-riposte."

Tempo - A kind of nebulous concept, but very similar to the musical definition of the word. The pace of a bout, sorta. Often used when someone is advised to break tempo or if one fencer is controlling the tempo of a bout.

FAQ

Why are the blades bendy? To keep us from dying, mainly. What, you want the metal pole people can throw at each other at the same speed as a bullet (literally) to be solid? Also, blades break a lot already, especially in the hands of the inexperienced—they'd snap a hell of a lot more if they weren't flexible. Ouch.

Does it hurt? About as much as getting poked really hard with a steel stick would. Leaves bruises often, but cuts very rarely. You get used to it. The real kicker is staying in en garde for that long. Trust me, your quads will be screaming.

Is it- No, it's not dangerous. If you follow the rules, fencing is actually extremely safe, especially compared to contact sports.

Does a red light mean no touch? No. One fencer is assigned a red light that lights up whenever a touch is made, and the other is given green. In sabre and foil, yellow (sometimes white) means whatever the fencer hit was off-target, and should not be counted as a point. Épée doesn't have an off-target light, since épéeists don't wear lamés.

How do the masks know when a point is scored? Often asked upon seeing the little lights on the side of masks light up upon touches. Unless you're "dry fencing" (no electricity), you're typically hooked up to a circuit. If you fence épée or foil, there's a little button on the end of your blade that registers when pressure is added onto it. When a hit is scored, the signal goes through the wire in your blade, up your body cord, and eventually to "the box" (and your mask if you're fancy), and the corresponding light is flashed.

Why hold your hand behind your back? Most people don't! Some beginners do it to prevent themselves from reflexively moving their non-gloved hand in front of them when being attacked (which is against the rules), but most fencers either keep their hand relaxed at their side, raised in a t-rex pose, or occasionally above the head.

Helmet? Mask.

Sword? If you want.

Touché? Often "touche," actually. No accent.

Paralympics? On (stationary) wheelchairs. Extremely cool, actually, and very hard. Check it out!

Expensive? To get all your own stuff? Yes. But most clubs will rent you equipment, or sometimes lend it for free! But yes, more expensive than, like, soccer. :(.

Is it fun? Absolutely. To quote some random internet user, "it's like chess, at 90 miles an hour, oh and there's swords!" I would 100% recommend it to everyone, especially if you're on the older side (fencing isn't super age-restricted at all—seeing a 12 y/o and a 70 y/o facing off on a club piste isn't uncommon!) It is exhausting, exhilarating, and super, super fun. Give it a shot!

.

Please feel free to send any and all questions, corrections, or musings my way. Thanks for reading—I hope this was interesting and/or useful!

[ritunn]

A Short Review of the PF2e Remaster Crafting Rules

Crafting! Every Intelligence spellcaster's (and Alchemist, Munitions Crafter Gunslinger, Inventor, and Alchemical Sciences Investigator) favorite skill. In Pathfinder 2e pre-remaster, the Crafting skill and its Craft activity were generally... underused. The Craft activity asked of you 4 days to produce one permanent item or 4 consumables at full price after you also bought the formula for it, and most adventure paths just didn't have the downtime to allow for it to be useful with the real benefit of spending extra time to reduce the price of the items down by your Earn Income amount for your Crafting skill. However, with Player Core 1, that's changed! So, first, let's go over what changed from the CRB.

I Can Make a Spoon in 1 Day Now: The Changes to Crafting

The following are some of the most notable changes to Crafting and the Craft activity:

CRB: Crafting items takes 4 days of downtime, and you must have the formula. You must provide half the materials upfront and pay the rest of the value after the 4 days are finished, but you can spend can spend extra days to reduce the price further, up to half the total value of the item.

PC1: Crafting items takes 1 - 2 days of downtime. 1 day if you have the formula, 2 days if you don't have the formula. Any common item can be crafted without a formula. You must provide half the materials upfront and pay the rest of the value after the 4 days are finished, but you can spend can spend extra days to reduce the price further, up to half the total value of the item.

The following feat was altered with these changes to the rules:

Inventor was moved down from a 7th level skill feat that required Master in Crafting to a 2nd level skill feat that requires Expert in Crafting. Additionally, it now says the GM can allow you to use the Craft activity to make uncommon and rare formulas, which you do need if you want to craft those items.

Spoons are Nice, But How About This Healing Potion: How Crafting Helps Every Party Now

So, with those changes, there is a notable difference with Crafting now: you only need 1 day to make stuff (if you have the formula). 1 day of downtime is stupid easy to come by in a majority of APs and homebrew games, heck 2 isn't a big ask either. The biggest benefit this provides is the savings, however. By reducing the downtime required from 4 days to 1, that gives you 3 days you typically would've spent making a wicked new magic longsword for Seelah as extra days you can spend to get savings you wouldn't have been able to get otherwise. This makes feats like Impeccable Crafter have much more value, since you can take advantage of getting a critical success on your Crafting check a lot more now.

But, let me provide a recent experience. In my current campaign, my GM gave the party a month of downtime before PC1 came out while I ran Malevolence for everyone to give him a break. I wanted to craft the following:

4x Cheetah's Elixirs (Moderate)

4x Elixirs of Life (Lesser)

1x Eye Slash (Greater)

4x Oils of Mending

4x Predator's Claws (Formerly called Owlbear Claws)

My Gunslinger/Inventor has the following skill feats and items to help with Crafting, with her Master Crafting proficiency:

Crafter's Eyepiece

Speciality Crafting (Alchemy)

Tattoo Artist

Overall, I got 4 critical successes, 1 success, and 1 critical failure on my die rolls. In total, I spent 25 days performing the Craft activity to make of all of this, spending lots of extra days to reduce the total cost of the items be crafted by half. In total, I spent 6 days making the items, and 19 days finishing them for the discount.

With the CRB rules, I would've spent a total of 24 days making the items, and then 19 days finishing them for the discount, for a total of 43 days spent Crafting, 13 days over my limit of 1 month.

Simply put, if I used the CRB Crafting rules, I would've had to spend much more gold, but I also likely wouldn't had taken the time to make the Oil of Mending for our Inventor, or the Eye Slash for our Barbarian. The new Crafting rules provide incentive for players to not only make cheaper items, thus spend less gold, but also make more items too since you're spending way less time.

We Only Have 1 Apex Item Between Us All: How the Formula Changes Helps High-Level PF2e

A minor issue high-level PF2e APs have is item droughts. Acquiring the equipment you need can be difficult because it doesn't drop, and unless you have access to a city like Absalom with a high settlement level, it won't be sold either. The issue can mainly be seen in acquiring Apex Items, some of the best magical gear available to high-level PCs that boosts 1 ability score to +4, or increases it by +1 if it's above that already. This is essential for getting a +7 in your primary ability score. The main problem, however, is that most APs (barring a few like Stolen Fate) don't drop apex items for every stat and buying them could be out of the question either due to not having enough gold or just no place to purchase. The solution to this was supposed to be Crafting, but small issue, you needed a formula to craft it, and that was just as hard to get.

However, the recent change makes it so that common items require no formula at all, you just need to spend 2 days on the Craft activity instead! And what are apex items and their rarity at typically? Common. With this, plus the lowered downtime required to finish the initial item, if a party has a crafter, getting cheaper apex items can be simple provided you find time for a little bit of downtime from levels 17 - 20 (which can still be a big ask, but not as big as before). This means, that perhaps everyone can get access to the prestigious magic items and enjoy the benefits of the power they entail.

In Conclusion

The PC1 Crafting changes have been a boon to everyone interested in the skill, and everyone who loves playing with them too. The reduced amount of downtime required leads to cheaper items, and/or more items. While the formula changes provide more versatility in what one can craft for their party and themselves.

[eruscreaminginthedistance]

Finally got around to watching some post-embargo vids and I have some now updated Veilguard thoughts.

Stuff I liked:

Character creator is a standout as always. This has consistently been the strong point of Bioware's games in the last 10 years so no surprises there. The pronoun and other gender-related options are a welcome addition.

Companions all seem great. I'm sad we haven't got more Davrin or Bellara content yet, since those are the two I'm most interested in learning about. Their initial introduction in that terrible cinematic trailer didn't do these guys any favours, but seeing them in gameplay footage gives a much better impression of them. It's also exciting to see more companion-on-companion interactions and relationships.

I was put off by the voice acting in the 10 minute gameplay reveal months ago, but what I've heard so far has been much better.

Main menu looks pretty.

As an ME fan, I'm pro dialogue wheel; it's unfortunate that Inquisition turned that whole mechanic into a massive drip. This is less a thing I notice but something I hope, that this game's dialogue wheel will have a more DA2 or ME1 vibe.

Hngnggn vfjddjgfnbhn oooowowo o cloaks.

Stuff I didn't like:

The art style is not redeeming itself. Wolfheart made a very insightful point that it might be a holdover from when Veilguard was going to be a live service multiplayer game, and it definitely does give that impression. Everything is still incredibly smooth and it's clear there was a lot of effort put into making things "nice" looking. It's giving very "everyone's beautiful but no one is horny" to me. I'm on the haters' side with the Qunari; where are their textures?

On that note, oh my god. The UI and the VFX. This must have also been a result of live service elements. As someone who hates playing late-game mages in Origins because all of the VFX gives me a headache this game looks actively hostile. Does literally every single ability require flashing neon lights? Why does the UI look like a World of Warcraft meme? Why does every single interactive object glow? Wolfheart noted that even after turning everything off, a bunch of VFX elements were still present, which is tremendously disappointing. Bioware can miss me with this cocomelon for adults visual style; I just do not need all of these annoying tricks to try and keep my attention.

Also on the UI - idk man. Remember when fantasy games weren't embarrassed about looking fantasy? Remember when all of Origins menus opened up in a little book with parchment pages? Character selection took place in a little castle? I just don't get this Thing Bioware has had since 2 to make DA's game UI look cool and slick by taking all the fun out of its visual elements. I've heard it before but I've got to agree, Veilguard's UI looks like a mobile game. And again, it's so busy it's 100% gonna give me headaches.

The combat is.... I won't call it "bad". I just hate it. See above for one of the reasons why. I think I could write a whole essay on how discomfiting it is. The very very clear push (likely from EA) to have the game resemble big name titles like Breath of the Wild and God of War has taken the game in the direction of just kind of a generic hack and slash; at least DA2 married its action elements with its party mechanics and has its own unique voice. There's something in particular that sets my teeth on edge tbh. I'm watching gameplay of warriors and rogues in combat and they're pretty much indistinguishable from mages. Teleporting, fire and lightning flying about in basic attacks, just a ton of stuff that makes me cringe to look at. There's a complete lack of class fantasy there for me - why would I want to play a warrior that isn't just a big guy with a big sword? Is this a result of story elements? Why is my low level rogue demolishing entire groups of enemies ala Dynasty Warriors? In a world where the distinction between a magic person and a non-magic person is incredibly important, could cost you your life, watching a rogue shoot lightning out of their knives makes me groan. Are Bioware's efforts to make the player feel like the coolest specialist person that ever lived going to be addressed in-game? We'll have to see.

Lack of control over your own companions ala Mass Effect. I don't wanna talk about it it's too depressing.

I've noted this in the past but obviously the tonal departure from low/dark fantasy to classic high fantasy. The character backgrounds for the Rooks pretty much lock you into playing a good guy, which is a huge shame. Even if you want to pick a faction that is canonically shady or morally neutral AT BEST like the Crows, they make sure to tell you that the other Crows don't like you because you're just that good-hearted. In a faction like the Grey Wardens, notorious for taking in criminals of all stripes, you spend your background saving helpless villagers. What are the options going to be like for people who want to play morally grey or potentially evil Rooks? It's starting to look like Bioware isn't going to give you a much wiggle room to define your character out of what they need you to be.

Lip flap looks like a very mixed bag. Maybe it's just the footage but voices and mouths look out of sync.

Can't make a post without reminding everyone that Bioware isn't our friend; they've fired half the people who worked on this game and greedy producers like EA don't deserve our money.

Update: Only just came across this but phasing out inventory management? Yeah welcome back Mass Effect trilogy :/

Neutral opinions:

Other shit like the Darkspawn and overall mob designs have been a problem since DA2 so I don't see the point in rehashing it here, other than to say that I can't wait for the "DLC with the good Darkspawn designs in it" this time around.

Opening scene gives me huge Mass Effect vibes; the bar fight and the music in that scene felt very "Lair of the Shadow Broker", which I guess is a compliment.

Varric still not dead yet. Kill that old man!

Ultimately, I'm putting in prediction now that Veilguard is going to go the DA2 route of having a decent and well-loved story, but with massive issues regarding its gameplay and aesthetic that players will just have to get over in order to enjoy the game.

I'm not gonna be buying on release - first time that's been the case for a Dragon Age game since Origins; the current plan is to wait until the Christmas sales, which gives plenty of time for the fandom to either assuage my fears or implode cos the game is shit. Either that or the Solavellan content is so crisp and juicy I'll have to learn to pirate.

[matoroblogs]

LEGO Almost Went Bankrupt. These Heroes Saved Our Bricks.

How a brain tumor inspired Bionicle, one of the most popular toys of a generation.

BY DAVID LUMB PUBLISHED: JUN 21, 2020

The Platinum Avohkii mask, a rare one- of-a-kind piece made of solid platinum purchased by Andre Hurley, who has The Bionicle Archives collection

Courtesy Andre Hurley/The Bionicle Archives

In 2003, LEGO seemed to be riding high after shrewd licensing deals brought Star Wars and Harry Potter sets to the masses. But unbeknownst to many—even those inside the company—sales were plummeting, and there were only guesses as to why.

Some blamed poor strategic choices in the 1990s—Legoland theme parks, forays into digital products—for LEGO’s hemorrhaging. All that misguided development time slashed profitability, and even Star Wars and Harry Potter sales shriveled between movie releases. It’s hard to conceive of now, but at the turn of the millennium, beloved LEGO might have been headed toward a pitiful end.

During this fallow period, one product line stood apart with startling, consistent success: Bionicle, a series of buildable action figures backed by rich worldbuilding and cross-platform promotion. Inspired by co-creator Christian Faber’s battle with a tumor at the base of his brain, the toy warriors of Bionicle wouldn’t just conquer their fictional enemies. They’d pioneer innovations that would transform LEGO and rescue the company from possible doom.

Courtesy Andre Hurley/The Bionicle Archives

Today, Christian Faber looks a bit like a Danish Paul McCartney. His youthful smile pairs well with his genial nature, which one might mistake for meekness until he starts talking about his creative projects. The 54-year-old embodies the unchecked enthusiasm you’d expect from a 28-year veteran of LEGO projects. If Faber’s long-time illness dimmed his appetite for play, you wouldn’t know it.

In 1986, Faber began working for Advance, a Copenhagen- based marketing firm that partners with LEGO. But shortly after his career began, Faber’s vision began to falter. A doctor found a benign tumor inside Faber’s pituitary gland that was impeding his sight, a condition called prolactinoma. Doctors said the tumor was maybe in the least accessible spot in the body for surgery, so they prescribed Faber daily medication to keep the tumor from growing. Among the drugs’ side effects, however, were severe nausea and dehydration, effectively sidelining Faber from social activities.

Courtesy Christian Faber

“It was the strangest mix of feelings,” Faber says. “I was happy at the job, but faced the physical and mental strain of the medicine and a long-term illness.”

Faber’s side effects attacked him hardest in the mornings, so he found most of his energy for work at night. Early in his career, Faber designed brochures for LEGO toy lines. Exposure to the different products, including the undersea-based Aquazone and the sophisticated Technic series, gave him experience with LEGO’s standards and practices—a moving target in the mid- 90s, when the rise of computers and video games pressured LEGO to move from their traditional years-long R&D cycle toward what Faber calls ‘craze products,’ toys tuned to current market tastes with a planned one-year shelf life.

The craze-products movement was rife with experimentation for LEGO, and it materialized soon after a medical breakthrough for Faber. After 10 years of daily medication, Faber’s physicians moved him on to a new treatment which, in Faber’s own words, gave him his life back. The new treatment was a regular injection scheduled just once every two weeks, allowing Faber to engage with the world relatively free from side effects. He could chase higher ambitions than brochures, and he had an idea for a new kind of LEGO toy: a sort of Bionicle precursor called Cybots.

Courtesy The LEGO Group

“I was sitting with LEGO Technic and thought I would love to build a character instead of a car,” Faber says. “I thought of this biological thing: The human body is built from small parts into a functional body just like a model. What if you got a box full of spare parts and built a living thing?”

With his assistant graphic designer Jan Kjær, Faber pitched Cybots, a line of humanoid action figures with attachable limbs and ball-and-socket joints. LEGO didn’t furbish Cybots, but they would implement Faber’s concepts in craze products like Throwbots in 1999 and RoboRiders in 2000. By 2001, LEGO was testing a line called Bone Heads of Voodoo Island—masked robots with heads that could shoot off their bodies like Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. Most of Bionicle’s look had been seeded: masks, buildable bodies, articulate limbs.

Courtesy Andre Hurley/The Bionicle Archives

Bone Heads of Voodoo Island was a bust—focus groups demonstrated kids didn’t respond well to detachable heads—so that same year, LEGO pivoted to focus on Bionicle. The plan was to take a more holistic design approach with these new toys than with craze products, but LEGO extended that comprehensiveness to the worldbuilding around the toys, too, a new strategy for the company. Faber and LEGO design manager Martin Riber Andersen were joined by former BBC film and TV executive Bob Thompson and writer Alastair Swinnerton to refine the Voodoo Island concept and pitch a new story. Faber, fresh from working on Star Wars LEGO sets, imagined something massive.

“After being on Star Wars, I was thinking that the only thing to do from here is our own stuff, but it should be as big as Star Wars,” Faber says. “It should be a big, full universe.”

For the storyline, Faber drew on his experience with prolactinoma. To him, his every-other-week injections seemed like sending in a new wave of protectors to battle his tumor with every dose. Faber imagined this group of disease-fighters arriving on an unknown beach with no memory. The story of these warriors would be called Bionicle, a portmanteau of ‘biological chronicle.’

Courtesy The LEGO Group/Christian Faber

Courtesy The LEGO Group/Christian Faber

Courtesy The LEGO Group/Christian Faber

“We took an episodic story line but chose not to play it out in any single medium,” Thompson told Kidscreen in 2003. “We would take that story and scatter it like a paper trail through different types of media.”

Bionicle’s in-world story evolved through comics and chapter books, written in large part by Greg Farshtey of LEGO’s promotional periodical LEGO MANIA Magazine (also known as LEGO Club Magazine, but now called LEGO Life Magazine). Farshtey followed Bionicle’s story bible from the original team, but as he began accounting for character changes correlating with new toy sets, he added his own takes. By the end of Bionicle’s run in 2010, he had interwoven the story with three feature films and shepherded the comic series that, at its peak, reached almost 2 million readers per month, making it the most widely circulated monthly comic on the planet.

Courtesy Andre Hurley/The Bionicle Archives

By all accounts, Bionicle was the hit LEGO needed. In 2001, its first year on the market, the line brought in over $160 million in sales, it was declared “Most Innovative Toy of the Year” by the Toy Association.

"Flat sales and profit decline made LEGO believe the brick was passé and it needed to move to digital and virtual toys to remain relevant,” David Robertson, author of LEGO history book Brick by Brick, told Popular Mechanics. “But as Bionicle became a success, LEGO learned the difference between sufficient and necessary. It wasn't sufficient to just offer customers another box of bricks, but it was necessary. If a LEGO toy didn't have interlocking plastic pieces, consumers didn't want it. But to succeed and grow, it was necessary to embed a story in that box of pieces and tell that story through comics, books, video games, movies, and events at the LEGO Stores."

Courtesy The LEGO Group

In other words, Bionicle had all the ingredients of a fun LEGO toy, but Faber’s inspiration was key to making it a smash. “[My condition] had a direct effect on my career, and especially on the creation of Bionicle,” he says, ticking off the allegories. “A biological robot attacked by ‘illness,’ waiting for the right ‘medicine’ to arrive. Even the canisters the Toa warriors arrived in resembled the medicine capsules I had to eat every day.”

Bionicle hit its stride just as LEGO’s financials were bottoming out. While LEGO flirted with bankruptcy in 2003, Bionicle accounted for 25 percent of the company’s total revenue and 100 percent of its profits. As LEGO slashed its workforce, reduced the number of pieces it produced, and increased its range of licensing deals, Bionicle continued to diversify. Partnerships spawned. There were Bionicle-branded Nike shoes, McDonald’s Happy Meal toys, even Colgate toothbrushes. The cross-promotion paid off: By the end of Bionicle’s initial run in 2010, it sold over 190 million toys.

All the newness shook up LEGO’s tried-and-true project structure. Bionicle’s multifaceted development process blended design, marketing and engineering teams to hash out new sets, ingest market feedback, receive directives from LEGO executives, and issue their own directives to subsequent narrative and design teams. Under the new dynamic structure, development time for a new toy line at LEGO accelerated from three years to less than one. The rapidity created an exciting energy.

“We broke a lot of new ground experimenting and pushing boundaries,” Bionicle co-founder and design manager Martin Riber Andersen says. “One of the key ethos of the core team was this is a shared collaboration: We stand together. We all believed it was so in contrast to ‘the normal LEGO company’ that we might as well direct our energy to the team instead of our individual career objectives.”

Courtesy The LEGO Group

Courtesy The LEGO Group/Christian Faber

From 2003 to 2005, Bionicle was the reported top-performing LEGO toy line, but after that, sales dipped below expectations. The decline continued to 2009, when LEGO handed down word it was time to end Bionicle. The creators wrapped up the narrative in 2010, but it was hard to let go. Farshtey wrote Bionicle stories on the now-defunct BIONICLEStory.com until 2011, fans dissected the line’s mythology on BZPower forums, and custom Bionicles continued to appear. In 2016, Faber wrote to series fans: “The stories we hear and the stories we tell shape who we are and what we do ... through almost 30 years [of my career in storytelling], no story has proved this stronger than Bionicle. The fans were, are, and will be the true heroes of this ... great adventure.”

These days, you still see Bionicle at toy conventions, and the r/bioniclelego subreddit is alive and well. In fact, the front page of Reddit was graced in November 2019 with an essential, timeless question: “What is the appropriate amount of time to wait before showing your new significant other your Bionicle collection?”

The toys’ invigorating combination of articulate LEGO figures and intricate, multimedia story resonated with the LEGO company as well as fans. The brickmakers use the business strategy they honed on Bionicle with lines like Ninjago today, to great success.

"It's hard to overstate how important the Bionicle line was for LEGO,” Brick by Brick author Robertson notes. “Without the sales and profits of Bionicle in 2003 and 2004, the company would not have survived. Bionicle taught LEGO that success depended on the ability to hook kids on characters and story, and LEGO was smart enough to spread those practices throughout the company."

Courtesy Andre Hurley/The Bionicle Archives

After Bionicle, Swinnerton moved on to write children’s books and TV scripts, Andersen took on a senior position

at a European consulting agency, and Thompson founded a media production and consultancy firm. Farshtey, meanwhile, still edits LEGO’s free fan magazine. All cite Bionicle as high points in their careers.

“We should all be proud of what we achieved individually,” Thompson says. “But in my view, more important is what we did collaboratively. After all, LEGO fans are still talking about what we did with Bionicle—after two decades.”

Faber moved on from his design job at Advance in 2014 after 28 years working on LEGO. His medical journey continues to inspire his creative work, including a post-apocalyptic world he’s designing filled with adventure, danger, and a pro- environmental bent. Looking back, Faber sees the impact his illness and treatment had on the stories and projects he’s touched. Almost 20 years after co-creating the action figures that sustained LEGO through one of the darkest times in its history, talking about Bionicle still makes him reflective.

“Biology is a balance more than a battle between good and bad,” he says. “Ever since Bionicle, balance has been my goal in the stories and pictures I create.”

Courtesy The LEGO Group/Christian Faber

article graphics faber bs01

[lackablazeical]

question for your Addams Au

So most of the scars are from each other (the hamato sibs)

Are all of them purposeful, or accidental, or a mix of those two? I guess I'm saying I'd love to hear the lore about all of their scars(or at least the major scars)

Idk if you've already went over this or answered a question like this, so if you have answered this, apologies 😅

Mix of the two!

Raph -

Face scar from Mikey scratching him

Throat scar when Leo was dared to slash Raph's throat

Both Plastron damages are from Leo stabbing/slashing incidents

Leg scar damaged by shrapnel when Donnie gave him a prank gift (was forced to sew it up)

Ankle scar from Mikey chewing on his ankle

All other scars were from non-Hamato creatures (alligators) or Savage mode injuries

Leo -

Has a bite mark across the front and back of his left shoulder from when he was annoying Raph and got bit for it

Donnie -

Eye scar/missing right pointer finger are from the same broken benchsaw incident

Prosthetic knee and reattached lower leg from a Lair Games landmine accident

Skinned scar on R. Shoulder from scraping against concrete after getting thrown by Raph

L. Hip scar from landing on rebar after getting thrown by Raph (see above)

Mikey -

Gouged claw marks in shell from Raph when Mikey was annoying him

(Optional Scar) restitched scar on upper left arm from Leo cutting it off

Rope burn scar on L. Wrist from a rope snapping during a stunt

R. Thigh has burn scar from spilling acid on himself while in Donnie's lab

Various assorted scars all over body from Nexus/general stupid activity from Mikey

[halsins-herbal-underpants]

Between Want and Need

also known as I Bet You'll Fit in My Pack

So another Halstarion fluff piece! I must be feeling the softness lately, haha. This one kind of rambled a bit -- I blame the fact I can't seem to write a thing with Astarion in it where the party banter doesn't devolve into like 89% 'give Astarion shit' times lmao -- I quite like the general vibe and the sweetness. No betas, hope everyone's IC lol! Pls do enjoy ~

Fluff / Astarion/Halsin / 6k words (give or take) // AO3 Link

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Astarion owed Halsin something and he wasn't happy about it at all.

He owed him, because that morning when he'd come back from an early hunt with Wyll, Shadowheart, and their defacto party leader Tav, Astarion had been covered in blood and walking slowly, painfully, a red-spattered gash at the waist -- and Halsin had hurried right to the vampire's side without a moment of hesitation. His hands were already starting to glimmer with druidic healing magic before Astarion even said a word.

And he hated it. Because now he owed him for that. After all, he hadn't needed Halsin to heal him, and yet there he was, kneeling at Astarion's feet and whispering magical words over his wound while his skin glimmered in oranges and greens.

Astarion let him. He decided it was easier to let Halsin continue rather than push him away.

But he didn't need this at all. Frankly, it was presumptuous, and he wondered why he didn’t let the druid know right then and there.

Well. Seemed silly to complain now, he supposed. But next time. Definitely next time.

Astarion wouldn't have even been wandering around the godsforsaken woods, if Tav hadn't insisted the spawn get his turn at the camp's fun new group activity.

The party was trying to load up on meat while they were past the Shadow cursed lands, but still far enough outside Baldur's Gate good game remained plentiful. Looting eighteen bottles of wine and twenty half-eaten apples for dinner was all well and good when hunting was scarce, but everyone -- well, everyone that didn't just need to cajole a bite of Halsin’s neck to have their supper -- was craving something substantial.

They had done a few days worth of hunting, everyone getting a turn to enjoy themselves with something besides killing cultists and goblins, but this was going to be the last of it. And boy, was Astarion glad for that.

Hunting for himself was fun. Hunting, real hunting, the kind that required more than just drinking an animal dry and discarding its carcass for the carrion birds, was so very indescribably boring.

His boredom might have been why he wasn't really paying as close attention to things as he should, frankly. Another reason to blame Tav for his troubles.

They'd run into a small raiding party, Tav had explained, as Astarion grimaced in pain under Halsin’s care. They sat besides him on one of the logs surrounding the camp's fire while Halsin knelt at Astarion's feet and concentrated on the slash in his side.

Kobolds, so the fight was over quickly. But a lucky little bugger he thought was dead had poked Astarion good when the vampire turned away to loot a body. The dagger was fit for kobold hands so the slash hadn't been deep. There had just been a nasty little poison on the blade, so it stung and burned and -- well, hurt quite a lot, actually.

But Astarion was fine, of course. He didn’t need this fussing at all.

"Blasted creature didn't have the courtesy to stay dead when stabbed," he sniffed. "So no fault of mine, if you ask me--ow!" He hissed softly in pain and Halsin winced.

"Apologies, Astarion. I think this may have been wyvern poison instead of the more standard fare," Halsin frowned, just as Shadowheart entered the camp, trailing behind while she helped Wyll carry back one of the bucks they'd managed to fell. Halsin's words made her pause and she frowned as well, as she dropped her half of the deer with the other game meat and walked towards the druid and his patient.

"Oh, wonderful," the vampire muttered dryly. "Surely poison isn't a cause for alarm for a walking corpse?

"You are more than that," Halsin scolded in that gentle way that made Astarion both roll his eyes and feel warm all over. "But yes, it should be fine. However it would be better if healing had been started at the moment the poison met flesh."

The druid's eyes flicked towards Shadowheart for the briefest moment before turning back to Astarion's wounds, but she absolutely caught the glance and her eyes narrowed. Halsin didn't notice. "It's had a bit to work its way in and this is a nasty sort that eats at the tissue; luckily its slow enough to often catch in time before lasting damage is done."

"That explains the burning," Astarion mused, more curious than worried as he peered down at the throbbing wound barely visible under Halsin's large hands, as the druid channeled Silvanus' blessing into his skin. "No real worries, I've had worse--"

"Oh Astarion...pardon me for interrupting, but can we speak?"

Astarion's words were abruptly halted by Shadowheart, her question blurted with a tone that sounded almost...offended? He looked up at the cleric and blinked to see her glaring at him, hands on her hips.

"I couldn’t help but overhear, you see. You were hurt by a poisoned blade?” Her lips turned downward, eyes narrowing more. “Why then, didn't you say anything?"

"Darling, it's like I said. I've had worse." He waved her off. "I can't run to you for every little bump and scrape, can I? It'd be a waste of my time and yours."

"That's what I'm here for, you stubborn twit," Shadowheart huffed and crossed her arms. "And having a dirty wound laced with wyvern poison is hardly a scrape. It's obvious you're in more pain than you let on, but you said nothing to me -- and I did check with you, if you recall." Her lips pressed tightly. "As I do everyone after a battle. But instead you said nothing until you waltzed back into camp." She paused and then continued roughly, a flicker of genuine upset escaping her careful expression. "And on top of it, you've made Halsin think I'm a poor cleric!"

"Oh, Shadowheart, I did not mean--" Halsin's exclaimed immediately, looking up at the half-elf with surprise and regret. He certainly hadn't intended his glance to convey that. It was involuntary, more curiosity as to why she seemed to have ignored an injury, than condemnation. It wasn't like her to leave a wounded comrade without aid if possible, after all. "You're incredibly skilled! I deeply apologize if I offended you."

"Huh! It's her accusation that's more offensive," Astarion frowned, feeling oddly defensive -- though, not for himself, but for the druid. "Our big bear would never be so rude. I wonder if he’s capable of a judgmental thought at all," he added drolly and Halsin had to chuckle.

"Oh, you'd be surprised..."

It was Shadowheart's turn to be chagrined and after a moment of faltering, she sighed and shook her head, her armored shoulders slumping.

"Oh, I'm sorry, myself. I know you wouldn't think something like that Halsin. At least nothing of real concern you’d keep to yourself.” Arms crossing, she rubbed at the back of her neck, lips pursed in an unnoticed pout.

“I suppose I'm just annoyed at our oh-so-brave rogue here, because this isn't the first time he's refrained from telling me about an injury until he returned to camp and had you fix it up." She paused and then tilted her chin up a little, trying to convey her next words coolly, and not tinged with the small amount of hurt she felt.

"If you think I'm incompetent Astarion, I wish you'd just say so. It would certainly save me some spell slots when you inevitably walk over a trap you yourself just located."

Astarion looked at her silently for a beat, glancing back at Halsin, but the druid was concentrating on his wound. Those wise hazel eyes did lift a little and meet his, Halsin's eyebrows raising. A sort of silent "Well...?" And then he smiled, gentle and caring, and went back to what he'd been doing. Encouragement to say what he knew was the right thing, but no pressure to do so.

The vampire groaned, his head dropping back as his brow pinched in irritation. "I....don't think you're incompetent, Shadowheart. You're a fantastic healer. I've never meant for my actions to feel like a personal slight, and...I'm..."

He paused, feeling something burning the side of his face and he glanced over to see Tav watching him with a very encouraging smile. Practically nodding along to every word, in fact.

For fuck's sake.

"Hhhhhh...I'm sorry," he muttered at Shadowheart's general direction, ignoring the low chuckle that came from the druid before him. He could just imagine the satisfied smile on that careworn face and he forced his own to pinch in annoyance.

"...Hm. Apology accepted," Shadowheart replied nonchalantly and then moved to sit on the log next to Astarion, watching Halsin do his work. She shifted as if attempting to get comfortable, the movement making her knee bump into Astarion's, briefly.

He recognized the gesture for what it was. They were both the same kind of stubborn, after all. He moved too, pretending to stretch, and bumped his elbow against her arm. He saw her little smile out of his periphery, and matched it with one of his own. They were all right.

"Still though," she did continue, her voice warmer with the slightest hint of reproach. "If you're hurt, you ought to tell me. Sometimes it's a simple scrape and sometimes it's wyvern poison, you know? I'm still terribly curious why you hesitate."

"Mm, no real reason. Perhaps I subconsciously fear Selune's wrath, she is so picky when it comes to who is worthy of her moonlight," he joked.

Of course, forgetting the camp currently held the daughter of said deity literally a tent away.

"What is that you say of my Mother Goddess?" Dame Aylin's voice rang out and Astarion nearly jumped.

"O-oh, nothing! Nothing at all--!" Astarion quickly blurted with a breezy, if slightly-frightened, smile. "Idle chatter, completely meaningless. I assure you."

He didn't see the smile that played over the assimar's lips as she affected a gruff look at the vampire. Halsin blinked and then laughed softly, lifting himself up to sit on Astarion's other side and place a large warm hand on his knee; a gesture of comfort and perhaps a small one of protection, as well. Of course the vampire had nothing to fear from Aylin, she was teasing. But still, it was comforting to have Halsin's huge body between her and himself.

"Let us not grow too heated," Halsin said cheerfully. "I do believe allowances are commonly made when one's true heart is seen. The Oak Father himself deems Astarion worthy of succor. I am quite sure Selune does as well."

"Hmmm…" Dame Aylin pretended to think for a few moments, watching Astarion fidget and then smiled brightly. "Aye, it is true. Our Lady of Silver knows a shadowed heart from a blackened one after all. Such hearts are alike to Her moonflower; though it may bloom only in darkness, its petals shall always seek the light."

Halsin couldn’t keep from smiling as he gently uncapped a bottled salve plucked from within his pouch, applying it gently to Astarion’s wound – a benefit not necessarily needed for Astarion’s natural healing, but one that would ease the pain more quickly. It wasn’t like his patient was complaining this time, either, so he took advantage of the rare agreeable mood.

“And a particularly lovely blossom to see in their unique bloom, if you’re able,” he agreed quietly.

Astarion blushed lightly, though he wasn’t quite sure why; he hid it with an expression dripping with annoyance, hand lifting to brush through his hair airly. “Have you quite finished, druid?” he muttered. “I’m not as delicate as some night flower.”

Isobel pursed her lips, looking thoughtfully at the spawn as he sat before Halsin, arguing the extra cautious treatment even as he happily remained for it. She slowly grinned then, leaning up to whisper something in her lover's ear as Astarion, his face gone as red as his formerly favorite wine at everyone’s eyes on him, exhaled a deep and long-suffering sigh.

"Can we please move the conversation past my heart, or my succor or me as the general topic, please?"

"But this topic is so much more interesting than talking about the deer we have to butcher," Tav interjected, plopping down on one of the other logs around the campfire, facing Astarion with a huge grin on their face. Astarion squinted at them, looking for all the world like a disgruntled feline.

Oh dear gods, are they all going to come over and sit around him now??

"Ah, apologies for bringing it up, Halsin," Tav added with a slight wince. The druid chuckled and shook his head.

"That is nature's cycle, my friend. It doesn't disturb me to talk about it. I joined you on one of your hunting nights, did I not? And I'm a fair hand at properly dressing a buck as well, so let me know if you need help."

"We'll need all hands, to be honest," Tav sighed, stretching. Astarion breathed an internal sigh of relief, glad the conversation had moved away from himself and his injury as the subject. "We've two large buck, a doe, three rabbits, a small boar and I think Wyll got a couple of quail on the way back."

"That's...quite a haul of meat," Halsin said hesitantly, a soft frown knitting his brows. "We'll be somewhere we can purchase supplies soon, as is. Did you really need so many...?"

Tav was quiet for a minute, then ran a hand through their hair, looking away. "I just...I started thinking about the refugees I saw when we went into Rivington a few days ago. A few of the tieflings from the grove were already there...the kids," they added quietly, and paused. "Everyone crowded into these makeshift tents and I didn't see a lot of, ah. You know. Food. So I thought, well, we were hunting anyway, and there's enough of us to carry extra..."

The concerned look on Halsin's face melted away into a huge smile, grateful and gracious. "Tav! That's a wonderful idea. I'll definitely help. If we all work on it together we can start to salt the venison tonight."

Well now the conversation had returned to the dull and boring. Astarion sighed and made to stretch, but winced with a sharp intake of breath, a hand hovering over the wound Halsin was quietly tending. "Ah -- th-that hurts more than I expected..."

He wasn't very happy about that, he had plans for later. Mostly slipping into Halsin’s tent and seducing another drink from that lovely throat. It was growing to be a bit indulgent, he couldn’t deny. He didn’t necessarily need it, but…well. He wanted it. That was good enough, wasn’t it?

“Apologies, it will sting with movement for some time. Really, in truth – you should always alert Shadowheart when you’re injured. Sometimes these things are time sensitive.” He met Astarion’s glimmering ruby gaze with those pretty, so very honest eyes of his own. “Will you please attempt to do so more often, Astarion? If not for your own sake, then perhaps to allay your healer’s worry…”

Before a very flustered Astarion could speak, Shadowheart leapt to her feet and pointed at the two of them, smiling triumphantly. “I knew it! I knew that’s what this was about! I was right! Wyll, you owe me ten gold.”

“Blast! I was so certain you were exaggerating,” Wyll sighed from the other side of camp. “I mean – he’s a rogue, not a front liner, hardly soaks damage enough to justify such a thing.”

“What are you on about, you confusing woman?” Astarion snapped, cheeks red. Then blinked as Shadowheart loomed over him with her teasing smile, fingertip poking his forehead.

“He’s your pack healer! I knew it. You’ve run back to him for every bump and scrape for weeks now. Isobel, myself, Jaheira – we may as well be invisible~”

Halsin couldn’t see the look on Astarion’s face, turned towards Shadowheart as he was, but apparently it was enough to make the half-elf burst into delighted giggles, practically dancing away from Astarion as if those blades were seconds from lunging towards her. Which might not be so far from the truth.

She turned, looking over her shoulder at Astarion almost coquettishly, a hand lightly perched upon her chest. “Well! I know when I’m not wanted~” she said with the flair of a dreadful penny romance. “He’s all yours, Archdruid. You’ll have to come with us more often, obviously. The poor thing does tend to get caught by a surprising number of missed traps.”

“....You know, I think I miss cold Sharran princess Shadowheart,” Astarion sniffed, his lips in a thin line. “She didn’t give me quite so much sass.”

Halsin had to chuckle at that. “Mmh, I don’t know Astarion, I seem to recall just as much sass, just of a different nature. I quite enjoy the new outlook.” He finished the last pass at smoothing the salve into the wound and began to bandage it now, taking much longer with the application than needed to save Astarion the sting. Not unusual of course, Halsin was ever mindful of how much extra pain his healing ministrations could add; but he did tend to take extra care with a certain spawn, which had not gone unnoticed by – well, most of the camp, really.

In fact this whole production may have been led by ulterior motives, if the grin on Tav’s face as they watched the group was anything to go by. Astarion was too preoccupied by the insinuation of the other cleric to really notice, luckily.

”Pack healer…” he snorted, crossing his legs though he didn’t lean away from Halsin’s hands this time. “Ridiculous notion.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Isobel mused as she sat on one of the logs surrounding the campfire, Dame Aylin close behind her shoulder, as always. “Perhaps not in those exact words, but…well, in truth, while I heal all in need happily, Aylin is…she’s…” The cleric trailed off, unable to think of a way to describe it, but luckily the demigod had a much more succinct way with words.

“I am Isobel’s shield and blade. And she is my home and hearth.” Aylin looked down at Isobel then, one armored hand lowering to touch a pale cheek. “My place of rest and succor. While I would never deny any cleric’s help if the cause was great, in the end…it is my darling Isobel’s healing touch that I seek before any other. The only I need.”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably and Halsin expected he must be growing tired of the druid’s slow, careful touch by now -- so he finished applying the last bandage and stopped. He didn’t see Astarion’s brief, tiny frown as Halsin began repacking his supplies.

“Aylin,” the Selunite blushed a little, tucking a lock of moon-silver hair behind her ear. “I am no better than another, you know.”

“You outshine them all,” the aasimar said simply and smiled. “Mine own biases at work, I admit, but still. When it is you – the one that shares my heart, well–” She glanced over, that intense expression (that always honestly intimated Astarion just a little) actually softened as she put thoughts to words. Her ethereal gaze met the spawn’s eyes.

“I am blade and shield, aye -- strong as steel and iron. But sometimes I must bend or I will break, and beneath my love’s hands – I can. Her hearth is safe, and I may lie and be vulnerable for a time.” Her glowing gaze turned back to Isobel, smile wide and the cleric’s face was flushed warm. “And if it is a slight amusement, to acknowledge the match? Dame Aylin, with her cleric kept handy in her pack.” She laughed, that boisterous guffaw. “A fitting thing! My Isobel is so sweet and small.”

Halsin didn’t speak during Dame Aylin’s speech, but the tips of his ears were pink as he rose, looking like he’d been thinking of a great many things. But instead of sharing, he just started gathering up his kit bag on a shoulder, task finished. And really, that was all it was. A task asked of any other healer, nothing more or less.

Never mind that the only reason Halsin got to Astarion’s wound as quickly as he did was because the wood elf always scanned the edges of camp with searching eyes the moment the group's approaching noise signaled their return. And that seeking gaze had never landed on Tav or Wyll or Gale or Karlach or any of the others and stayed.

It only ever lingered on one pale elf.

Tav rubbed their chin slightly, thinking, a small smile spreading on their lips, the one that always preceded some trickery or another.

“You two are adorable,” they said cheerily to the Selunite duo, and clapped their hands together. “But sadly ‘tease Astarion hours’ are over! We’ve all got work to do.”

“Oh, is it over already? A shame, I was just beginning to really enjoy myself,” Astarion hissed, the annoyed poofed tail and flat ears practically visible as he too rose with Halsin. Not purposefully! Just idle timing.

“You can’t expect me to join you with all that…blood and guts business, do you?" he continued. "I’m injured!” He groaned exaggeratedly and hobbled a few feet towards his tent. “I'll just go lie down…”

“Oh, pshh...you’re fine! You can skin a rabbit like that, surely. Isn’t that right, Halsin?” Tav asked with an innocent smile.

The druid raised his head, blinking – his mind obviously preoccupied with some other thought. “Hm? Oh, yes, he should – be –” His words paused as he caught Astarion’s eye, the vampire’s ruby gaze wide and his head shaking imperceptibly. Well. Mostly. Tav certainly caught it, and they saw Halsin did too.

“--Oh– Ah– I mean, rather – he probably should refrain from dealing with any viscera…”

Astarion’s eyes widened and his cheeks puffed a little.

“O-or, perhaps not – no touching any of the raw flesh, or, or skinning.” Halsin amended and tilted his head, thinking. “He could help by plucking the birds, I sup–”

A very slight noise like a whistling tea kettle sounded from Astarion’s throat and if Tav didn’t know better they'd think the vampire was hopping in place. Very small angry hops.

Gods but they did love riling Astarion up sometimes. Heroes needed their fun, too.

“He can’t do any butchering!” Halsin finished with an exasperated, if slightly amused, huff. “Just rest and recuperation, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, well, darn I guess we’ll just have to do without!” Tav sighed, hands in the air. They ignored the glare from a few of the companions around, who did not find the amusement worth having to take over Astarion’s share of work. “Best keep him with you too, Halsin, just in case the infection spreads or some such.”

“...Pardon?” Astarion exclaimed then, mid-stride to his own tent. He blinked as Tav gave him a look and made little ‘shooing’ motions at him.

“If you’re too bad off to help, Astarion, you’re too bad off to lounge in your tent reading some awful bodice ripper. Go. Halsin’s tent. Now. Unless you do want to pluck some birds after all…?”

Astarion blinked and turned to look at Halsin, but the druid had already ducked into his tent. Astarion suddenly felt chastised for reasons he didn’t know, and even stranger, finding the druid’s sudden absence…vexing.

“No thank you,” the spawn sniffed without much of anything behind it, then turned. Tav grinned as they watched Astarion hurry to Halsin’s tent and slip inside.

“Well, he certainly became energetic for such an obviously injured, pain-stricken creature,” they said dryly and then sighed, turning to the others and joining them as the least fun part of their hunting weekend began.

“Sooo...can I have one of those pack healers?” they said with a grin, leaning over Shadowheart’s shoulder as she settled in with a knife and a rabbit carcass. “I am the leader, you know~”

“Tch!” Shadowheart flicked Tav’s nose. “I think not. You’re a bard. Heal thyself, support.”

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Astarion didn’t know what to say once he entered Halsin’s tent, the space small and slightly crowded enough the two had to ease over and around the other to settle onto the padded flooring. Mercifully, that occupied his time for a bit -- too busy to talk while the spawn found some sort of arrangement of his limbs that wouldn’t leave a knee pressing into the large druid somewhere uncomfortable, or Astarion’s foot in a plant pot.

“I apologize for the clutter,” Halsin said at length, attempting to rearrange his stack of books and myriad strings of dried herbs and clay jars of live plantings. “I didn’t exactly…mean for you to join me, really. The wound is likely to be uncomfortable if you lay on that side or twist too much, but there's no cause for a watchful eye, truly. You…” he paused. “You don’t need to be here. You may leave any time you wish, I won’t hold you to Tav’s suggestion.”

Astarion felt the weight behind that pause and turned slightly to look at Halsin with a frown – though that quickly gave away to a wince, as he twisted too far to do so. “Gh! Ah…th-that’s what you meant,” he chuckled low to himself even as his side throbbed.

Halsin immediately looked apologetic and his brow furrowed. “Oh, I didn't think--I'm sorry, that was my fault, Astarion. There’s barely any room here to maneuver…please, allow me.” He stretched out a hand and that familiar glow filled Astarion’s side and warmed him clear through to his fingers and toes. Exhaling a deep sigh, he melted back a little against Halsin’s bedroll and pillows.

“That’s -- mmh, better. Much better. Thank you,” he said sincerely, a fresh burst of warmth glimmering through him at the soft smile on the druid’s lips.

“Ah, since I’m here – I might as well stay,” he said airly, with a carefully casual tone. “I’ll have to just stop maneuvering, as you say, and stay right where I am. It’s not so bad,” he said then and after a beat, smiled up at the druid. “A lovely view at the very least.”

Halsin’s lips twitched a little into a brief smile, and Astarion swore he saw the tips of those lengthy wood elf ears turn pink again. But the smile faded as quickly as it'd come.

“...Astarion. I hope I haven’t...made you feel like you must come to me for healing, if you're injured. You need to be attended by whomever is available, as soon as possible. Waiting for me because I -- I made it seem like that was your only option, or that it’s what I demand -- that was not--" Halsin faltered a little, his scar wrinkling over worried brows. "It's--my intentions have always been–”

“I never needed your healing, druid,” Astarion interrupted, voice tight. He wasn't angry or annoyed, he just -- he just needed Halsin to stop talking like that. Like he’d...forced Astarion to do something. Like he'd overstepped a boundary. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach at the thought that his stubbornness might've convinced Halsin any of the things he'd done for Astarion had been wrong.

He winced at the look of contrition on Halsin’s face that followed the vampire's outburst. The druid seemed to almost shrink in on himself, become smaller with guilt. He couldn't meet Astarion's eyes.

Astarion's chest felt tight as a vise, to see the elf like that and know he was the cause. His brow furrowed. “No, no -- I’m sorry Halsin, I didn’t -- I said that the wrong way. I--”

“It’s just–”

They both stopped, looking at each other and then chuckled wryly, one to the other. “You first,” Astarion said softly.

“The healing…and the…” Halsin gestured to his throat, where the twin pinpricks Astarion had left there a few nights ago were still visible. “The meals. I never wanted to, mm -- not force – perhaps expect?” He thought and then hummed. “Yes…made it seem like I expected you to get such needed things from me, and, well, only me. That was never my intention.”

How could he add that he felt remorseful, and so guilty, because he understood how easily it was for Astarion to just do as he was told. Suggested or commanded, made no difference in the end, if they were said with enough authority...or by someone Astarion trusted. Not that Halsin thought he had authority over the spawn like that, but -- he was a healer, was he not? And not to mention, he was the only one who had offered his blood freely. Was that not obligation, instead of choice? Astarion already struggled with feeling like anything he was given by another was a debt owed.

Astarion should choose himself, what he wanted – who he wanted, for whatever his need may be. Always.

“As you said. You have never needed my healing. But I always was the first at your side, almost pushing it onto you.” He paused and sighed. “Too eager perhaps to feel needed. A feeling I seem to still crave even now. Forgive me.”

“Druid," Astarion muttered, his words strangely thick. "Why…are you…the way you are?” Astarion groaned to himself, an arm resting over his eyes. He’d moved to hide his face as Halsin spoke, the aching feeling in his stomach now fully matched in his chest. He couldn’t look the other elf in the eye.

“I’m not sure–”

“Godsdamnit, so -- so kind!” Astarion snapped. “So good and sweet a-and--” He stopped and exhaled a slow, long breath and then rolled over a little. It was so much easier to address Halsin’s flowers and tiny tree clippings than the druid himself. “You’re right," he continued, softly. "I never needed your healing. And I was actually quite angry this morning at receiving it, since it meant I owed you yet again...”

“Astarion. You’ve never owed me, not once–”

“Yes, I know druid. Hush and let me speak.” The larger elf fell silent and Astarion remained on his side looking away so he didn’t have to see the look of sad anticipation he knew was on on Halsin’s face. Perhaps even a quiet, empty acceptance; he no doubt expected Astarion to tell him to never touch him again, or speak to him, or maybe even something crueler.

The spawn’s chest tightened again.

“That was me being -- oh, let’s just admit it -- angry at myself for telling myself yet more useless lies. Even now, after all this time and learning that, gods forfend I can actually trust you -- I still don't understand why you ask for nothing in return. A part of me holds back, waiting for the moment you’re going to..."

Astarion paused, the closed his eyes tightly. "To want something I can’t give you, in repayment. Because I know I'd do it anyway." His voice softened, briefly. "I'd do anything you asked.”

Halsin's eyebrows raised at that, but he didn't pursue it. He meant to let Astarion speak until he had no more words to give. Rare enough that he was this forthcoming, in the first place.

The vampire sighed deeply. “So if I never once needed what you gave -- freely and out of your own ridiculous, frustrating goodness, might I add! -- well then. I owed you nothing, and never would. No obligation.”

He curled up a little. “The truth was never that, of course. So much worse that I tried to hide it with a flimsy easily-disproven lie like that. No, it could be said I never needed your healing, or your blood or…your…hhh…” Astarion exhaled hard, forcing the words out so they’d stop sticking in his throat. “Touch. Company….voice...” He mumbled. “Scent…”

Finally Astarion couldn’t take it any longer. Even though the pain made him wince and half-cry out as he pushed himself up and twisted towards Halsin, he just gritted through it, especially since it was nothing like what he’d felt before. Even so, he had to take a minute to shoo Halsin away, the druid's instinct to help stop that pain.

Astarion huffed. He may truly be getting soft with these blasted friends that kept soothing all the hurts.

He met Halsin’s face, heart squeezing at the slumped shoulders and achingly sad eyes of someone awaiting an inevitable rejection. Favoring action over words, Astarion reached out and took those roughened, worn hands, ones he’d experienced firsthand as the most gentle that had ever touched him, at least in memory. The spawn could tell that the gesture surprised Halsin and he took advantage to squeeze them with his own slender fingers and surprise him even more.

“I don’t need you to heal–” Astarion paused.

“Mmh no. Let me say what I mean,” he amended, quickly, before he lost his nerve. “I don’t need you Halsin…” The sharp glittering rubies of his eyes met the gentle spring of Halsin's own, wide and sincere.

“I want you. I…I want you. Your care, and concern, and your blood and, hells, your company and, and your voice…your healing touch…” His eyes flicked downward and he grinned, showing fangs.

“Your hands. Gods, do I love what you do with your hands,” he laughed softly, not even bothering to turn it into some seductive innuendo. Just pure honesty. What those hands do, though.

Astarion suddenly let go of Halsin and gripped his folded legs tightly, staring at them, his moment of brazen honesty almost too much to continue to bear. His teeth gritted a bit.

“If anyone has been taking advantage of anyone else, then I’ve taken advantage of your kindness and care. Shadowheart was right -- I’ve been keeping silent every time I got hurt, because all I wanted was...was to come back here and…” He paused, Dame Aylin’s words flickering through his head.

He smiled ruefully. “Receive your succor.” A pause and then he continued, more softly. “Lie and be vulnerable, for a time. But only with you.”

“But--” he could hear a thickness in Halsin’s words and he looked up quickly, brow furrowing, afraid his words had gone too far. But the expression on Halsin’s face was not of pain.

And Astarion’s chest hurt again, but this time he found he didn’t mind.

“But why me? When there are so many others at hand…?” Even now, it seemed the druid couldn’t quite believe it. And Astarion smiled then, real and raw and lopsided, no performance or careful construction. He didn't even keep his eyes from crinkling at the corners.

“‘Because,” he said softly, reaching forward to take Halsin's hands in his again, pressing close enough he could feel that welcome warmth surrounding him. “Simple, darling.” He laughed and then leaned closer.

“It’s what I choose." He pressed a palm to Halsin's chest, felt the strong thump of his heart. "You're what I choose~”

Halsin was quiet for a beat, and then a slow ragged breath left him. His arms wound around Astarion immediately, emotion taking over any carefulness; but the vampire didn’t even mind the pain, would gladly welcome any amount if it meant these arms stayed like this for as long as they could.

Of course, he knew the big softy wouldn’t dare cause a second of hurt, so when he winced and said ‘ouch’, Halsin apologized profusely. That got him a pinch; he chuckled, apologized for apologizing with a cheeky grin and carefully shifted to gather Astarion up in his lap, no hint of pain in the new position.

Well if this was what it took to get Halsin to cuddle, he’d have let a Kobold stab him weeks ago.

“So,” Halsin began with a bemused smile playing over his lips, his forehead against Astarion’s as they curled up together. “Does this mean I'm to be kept in your pack?”

“Pfft! Certainly not,” Astarion snorted. “You’re way too big.” He grinned a little as Halsin laughed, and then looked up to meet his gaze.

“But if you’d like to perhaps, stay at my side, instead? I think that would work just fine.”

“Hmm…” Halsin mused, and then smiled gently and pressed his lips to Astarion’s forehead. “Yes. I do believe I can do just that. For as long as you need m–” he paused and then his smile warmed. “For as long as you want me there.”

“Well,” Astarion said, his answering grin soft and indulgent. “Best prepare, healer. That’s going to be a very long time, indeed.”

[baltears]

idk how else to describe this like i think the kind of traditionalist/hyperliteral read of buffy not catching feelings for spike until late s5/s6 just misses the level of iron grip buffy keeps on her feelings. apropos of nothing other than seeing this read one too many times and im not up on my buffy meta scholarship so forgive me if im making the same points everyone and their mother has been making for the past two decades

keeping tight control over her feelings is not something buffy started doing after a certain point, it's a behavior she has coming into the pilot bc we see that at that point there's already a level of emotional distance between her and joyce (not only re the slayer stuff and the later retconned-in betrayal & invalidation trauma from being thrown in an institution when she tried to tell her parents the truth, but also for instance the intensity of buffy's distress over the divorce). she already has a home life consisting of not voicing most of her difficult and 'close to the chest' emotions. when she tries to be genuine in a way that asks for space for her frustration or anger or more 'selfish' feelings, this is often not met with understanding (worth mentioning that giles does a MUCH better job on this than joyce for the most part, but other characters including willow and xander respond poorly a substantial number of times). as a result she is well practiced at suppressing emotions that are too inconvenient or complicated to feel acceptable to verbalize, so she tends to just kind of whistle past things that feel hard to tackle until she reaches a point where she can no longer bear to ignore them. this is a core part of her canon characterization that is also visible at many points in buffy's relationship with angel (s3 comes to mind, when she spends a good chunk of the season operating under the convenient belief that they're in a functional platonic friendship when she subconsciously knows they are still too hung up on each other for that to be feasible). so like we know this is something buffy does. it is not at all unusual for her to feel things that she keeps beneath her conscious awareness + does not allow herself to process and admit to having felt until well after the fact.

this takes me to the oft cited point that from the first time she interacts with spike, there is a different vibe happening than is typical for buffy and vamps. it just feels very obvious to me that from basically minute one (or maybe more accurately from their first fight, when she isn't so much on the back foot) she registers him on some level as a person who happens to be really interesting and hot, but has a fairly easy time of it keeping this feeling out of her conscious awareness bc 1) he's also an unsouled vamp, meaning she can choose to dismiss his personhood as nonexistent and his personality as mere performance or game-playing (ie he is not a 'real' person, therefore the relationship need not be acknowledged as 'real' either – taken to extremes in s6 when she has to actively abuse him and continually reaffirm his lack of humanity and lack of worth in order to sustain the self-told belief that she doesnt see or experience his personhood and doesnt feel a human connection with him), 2) they're mortal enemies, 3) he likes to be really annoying on purpose + as a vampire also has a baseline level of generally acting like a bit of a creep, and 4) for much of their relationship she has other romantic objects on whom she can more acceptably focus her attention (insert reference to spuffy being a queer coded relationship here).

i think this state of noticing-slash-not-noticing persists from 2.03 through s3&4 and into season 5. by then she is so good at studiously ignoring how weird and flirtatious and intense their dynamic has always been that the revelation that spike is now acting very obviously like hes in love with her, to the extent that someone else could notice, takes her totally by surprise. getting more specific idk how else one could possibly explain how her ass was acting in something blue pre-spell, like i absolutely canNOT see buffy behaving like that around any other vamp literally ever. they were both being so unceasingly annoying with their creepy little flirty back and forth that both giles and willow were completely over it and just wanted them to shut up and stop paying so much attention to each other. ig the point im getting at is i think it's weird and dont get it when ppl seem to read buffy's character as if shes basically just saying the things she feels and vice versa rather than like regularly and even habitually lying to herself, bc i just don't think that's in line with the character that we're shown. buffy SAYS for a very long time that she doesnt care about spike and basically says and does everything possible to deny that she has any attachment to him at all, but frankly i think the level of aggression and frequency with which she expresses variations on that sentiment in and of itself gives the lie to that idea. anyways i think she was down bad pretty much immediately and just took a very long time to let herself notice

[nompunhere]

Obligatory Long-Overdue Pinned Post

Hi! Welcome to my blog. I'm NomPunHere, but you can call me Nom, Pun, NomPun, NPH, or whatever. She/they pronouns, please. I'm not too active these days, but in here, you will find:

Safe, soft, nonsexual vore/noms, aka extreme cuddling

Some G/t here and there

Gay bugs

Fandom thoughts

Fics and art (most of which is kinda old by now)

Angst, sometimes

Please do not ask to RP unless I know you personally. I may occasionally engage with some silly little RP-type asks, but I'm also pretty bad about getting around to answering asks in general, so don't expect too much.

I do have a sona! I haven't officially introduced them on this blog, though. Maybe someday I'll finish her ref sheet. Today is not that day. Other than them, the vast majority of my OCs are bees I made to fill roles in a couple of my fics lmao

A lot of my work is fandom-based, though I also have some non-fandom posts floating around that people seem to like. I'll put my fandom list under the cut so I don't have to break up the names with slashes (hopefully)

Explanation of my DNI will also be under the cut. You can skip past the fandom list if you want, since it's so long

List of current/major fandoms, in (mostly) no particular order:

HOLLOW KNIGHT (this makes up like half my blog)

Rain World

Bug Fables

Celeste

Treasure Planet

Slay the Princess

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon (only PMD2 though)

Pokémon Legends: Arceus (still on my first playthrough so no spoilies)

Sky: Children of the Light

Stardew Valley

D&D

And here's some older/minor fandoms I may occasionally take interest in, again in no particular order:

OFF

Subnautica

Journey (2013)

Legend of Zelda (Breath of the Wild, Tears of the Kingdom, Twilight Princess, and Wind Waker, though my memory of those last two isn't the best)

Homestuck

Baba Is You

Golden Treasure: The Great Green (if anyone recognizes this one I love you personally)

Plants Vs Zombies (mostly the first game)

Undertale

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Boku no Hero Academia

SPORE

To The Moon (and its sequels)

Terraria

Flight Rising (note that I haven't played since like 2020 though so I'm not up-to-date)

Detroit: Become Human

PIKMIN (only up through Pikmin 3 so far though)

Mushi-shi

Steven Universe

Gravity Falls

Invader Zim

Danny Phantom

How to Train Your Dragon (only the first two movies plus Gift of the Night Fury and Book of Dragons. Haven't seen RoB, DoB, or RttE)

BE MORE CHILL

Miraculous Ladybug

Fullmetal Alchemist (2003)

The Dragon Prince (only the first two seasons but I intend to watch the newer episodes later so NO SPOILIES)

My Little Pony (gen 4) (haven't seen The Movie or anything after it)

Okay that's probably way more than enough. Some of these fandoms, I will not talk about in a vore context, either for my own comfort or the comfort of others. And some of these, I don't actually remember much about, but they all have a place in my heart so I figured I'd mention them

DNI:

Blogs that post explicit sexual content

I would strongly prefer not to see that type of content, and I definitely don't want people interpreting my work as sexual, so I ask that you not follow or reblog my posts. If you just leave likes on my most popular posts though (like over 100 notes), I won't give a shit.

If you're gonna interpret my work as sexual regardless of what I say, then you do you, man. I just don't wanna know about it.

Blogs that only post hard and/or fatal vore

For this one, I mainly just don't want my posts reblogged there, because that's generally not what my posts are meant to be, and I don't want them to be interpreted incorrectly, if it can be helped.

Blogs that post irl vore/weight gain pictures or edits

I'm not judging, so long as everything is done with consent, but these do make me uncomfortable, and I don't wanna see it.

Proshippers/comshippers/anti-antis

Again, the content makes me uncomfortable, and I would rather not have people interpreting the relationships in my works as romantic or sexual unless they're intended to be.

On another note, if you strongly identify as either anti-anti OR anti, and go out of your way to harass people who disagree with you, I probably won't like your vibe! We don't need that around here! Thanks.

MAPs/pedophiles and zoophiles

I hope you're getting whatever help you need.

TERFS, transmeds, racists, sexists, LGBT-phobes, neonazis, ace/aro exclusionists, and whatever else I'm forgetting. Idk I'll probably block you if you give me that sort of bad vibe

This should be pretty self-explanatory, I should hope? Don't be a dick.

I don't want to argue with anyone, and I don't want to be dragged into any drama. This is meant to be a safe place to talk about my interests. Thank you for understanding, and I hope you enjoy your visit (or stay)!

(And yes, if you must know, I'm an adult.)

[yourbratan]

📌HEYY HII IM TOMAT AKA TOMATNIISOK AKA YOUR BRATAN📌

fyi im a russian/moldovan artist, im studying graphic design and typography. im 20 years old, born on 5th july yada yada

i draw mostly fandom stuff, sometimes i draw my ocs. some of my favorite stuff are burgers, metal gear solid, hack-and-slash games in general, super complicated films, and death grips

id really like to befriend with some artists, so feel free to message me if u want to chat!

!!! COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN !!! all necessary info you can find here

here are some of my socials VK (most active): https://vk.com/tomatniisokiztomatov TELEGRAM: https://t.me/tomatnii_sok INSTA: https://www.instagram.com/tomatniisok_/ TWITTER: https://twitter.com/tomatniisok_

my art tag here is #tomatniiart

(translation: “ooh to be hired to draw comics for money<3” (its way funnier in russian u have to trust me))

a pleasure to meet u!<3

[cheetahsprints]

(If you don't like mentions of a slash ship featuring certain anthro hedgehogs just scroll past!!!! Quickly!!!)

TL;DR (You can skip this blurb if you want the full story)

I went from being like neutrally aware of the Sonic franchise characters' existence to totally obsessed practically overnight with Shadow and Sonadow. Went full speed ahead brainrot on them because of a freaking dream where cartoon (unspecified) Sonic & co accidentally entered the dimension of live action Sonic. Shenanigans ensued, most notably a dreambrain-hatched live action Shadow fighting his cartoon version because of his attitude toward Sonic & co.

(End of TL;DR)

[Text wall below for details]

A few nights ago I had a random as hell dream about Sonic the hedgehog and I am now here I have watched freaking Sonic Prime on Netflix because the mental images wouldn't leave me alone so I treated it like a weird message from the universe e send Help

My only previous interactions with sonic stuff was some person I followed on twitter for something else posting art of it (mega long time ago), watching the sonic live action movies why I have no idea (super long time ago), and that joke game that went surprisingly hard The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog which I completed even though the minigames to progress got hard AF for me (pretty long time ago) and like even before all that I knew of Sonic from ads, memes, and various posts on social medias. But I didn't fully engage with it.

Side note: the twitter posting was mostly sonadow and I would look it over like uh-huh ok the vibes check out and just keep scrolling like lsdfkjdskl but that is pretty much the main reason I knew Sonic/Shadow existed but at the time I didn't actively seek it out or try to learn more.

Onward...

My brain is so so so weird and the dream was somewhat vivid like watching a movie omg where the live action sonic and pals met the cartoon versions of the characters?? even though I never watched any of the cartoons before??? as such it wasn't a specific series, I just knew it in the dream they were from a generalized cartoon universe

Specifically it was Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles in the movie group, while the cartoon group had Amy and Rouge instead of the other two alongside Sonic, who I only even really knew about because of the April Fool's game. And Shadow was also there in both groups because why not I guess and they (the Shadows) fought each other because the movie one thought the cartoon one was a jerk lmao idk? Yeah my subconscious decided it couldn't wait for Sonic 3 and made up its own version of movie Shadow.

Early in the dream there was also a little kid clone of Sonic who belonged with the cartoon group. There were some cute interactions but in nonsensical dream fashion that character just disappeared later like he was never there lol

…There was some plot about the cartoon group needing to get back to their dimension because Sonic accidentally got them blasted into the movie one somehow... after watching Sonic Prime I'm like my dream was so FREAKISHLY similar to that show's plot, but I SWEAR I knew nothing about the premise of SP before the dream. Although, in the dream they were like... multidimensional travellers doing hero stuff and had met other variants before, just this time it wasn't intentional and it messed something up.

Uh getting off track... (which the dream itself did a lot tbf)

Anyway, what I remember is the movie dimension made the cartoon group look in the more realistic style so at first Shadow thought the actual movie group were the ones from his dimension (Shadow & Amy got separated from Sonic & Rouge) and was rude to them because he was so ticked off blaming Sonic for being a dumbass and yelling at Tails for not preventing whatever happened or something, so actual movie Shadow appeared like. don't talk to my friends that way asshole and beat the absolute shit out of him. There was an explanation Tails gave that the movie Shadow was more powerful for some reason I don't remember and Amy told cartoon Shadow to stop trying to beat him. But yeah bro was so pissed movie Sonic had to step in and physically stop him because he wouldn't listen to and/or overpowered anyone else. He reminded Shadow that the other Shadow was still him, in a sense.

Cartoon Sonic and Rouge appeared and Sonic started bickering with cartoon Shadow. but the movie versions were best friends so they were watching them like wtf is wrong with y'all. Movie Shadow got fed up quickly and punched cartoon Shadow again and stood protectively in front of both Sonic versions bristling and wouldn't take his eyes off his counterpart. Cartoon Shadow was so goddamn confused by Shadow's protectiveness and asked how Sonic had made movie Shadow his loyal bodyguard (derogatory) Amy and Rouge like explained the backstory to the movie crew, which is fuzzy to me but it was something along the lines of, Shadow had been brainwashed to rival Sonic, tricked to think that Sonic was evil (unbeknownst to that Sonic who in his pov had this random edgy hedgehog start attacking him out of nowhere during a mission) and they had a lot of intense fighting before Shadow found out the truth. But the two of them never quite got over the misunderstanding. Listen I didn't know Shadow's backstory, literally none of it, but I have read the wiki since ok

Meanwhile movie Shadow, in the dream, was made and raised in a lab and similarly believed he was made as Sonic's rival/equal. Behind the scenes some government thing or whatever were afraid of Sonic's power and wanted a backup plan. But some evil guy stole and unleashed Shadow. At first it was basically just a duel, Shadow admired Sonic, but the evil guy had put a chip in his head that when activated made him try to kill Sonic. Eventually he was subdued and the chip deactivated- and despite everything Sonic insisted Shadow come with him to his home and the rest was history. This unfolded in like flashback style.

There was a funny part where Shadow questioned Sonic's home like "What kind of base of operations is this?" In a very unimpressed tone. Sonic said sarcastically "Oh, sorry if you were expecting my own Fortress of Solitude." And I guess Shadow was allowed to watch tv because he got the reference and shot back "Does that make me Lois Lane?" Didn't make a whole lot of sense sdlfkjds but movie Shadow delivered this line very confidently and flirtatious and just walked away leaving Sonic shocked LOL

And then later Shadow complained that the government people would always rewind and loop the villainy parts and he never got to see if Lois and Clark kissed (It's been too long since I watched any Superman movies so I couldn't tell you if this makes sense) and Knuckles teased him for being a romantic, and then the whole team binge watched every Superman movie.

In the "present" at some point movie Sonic and Shadow pulled their alternate versions aside and like told them off for being mean to each other lmao cartoon Sonic was kinda like uwu I didn't know Shadow had feelings he's like a lone wolf and like was surprised by his counterpart's vehemence. Movie Sonic told cartoon Sonic that Shadow can be a great friend if you give him a chance. I don't remember the Shadowses convo much but it was a lot more chill despite the fighting before (though still prickly) because Shadow's reasons were more valid and it was more of a pep talk from movie Shadow that if he opened up more it might give the others around him more opportunity to know and accept him.

I remember there was this one specific heavy emotional line in the dream that stuck with me when I woke up said by cartoon Shadow about Sonic, "He's my best friend but I'm obviously not his" DFKLJDSKJ

Additional small detail that movie Sonic and Shadow had known each other for over 2 years during dream events. And they were quite close and in sync. But still bantery

My brain basically conjured a LITERAL FANFICTION in my sleep and I have been thinking about it a lot What's hilarious is I knew next to fuck all about these characters my brain pulled the plot points of this dream out of its ass

Typed out, this dream probably sounds a lot longer than it was... the "scenes" just felt oddly detailed for how mashed together and quick passing they were.

But yeah I kept thinking about the dream and like daydreaming more scenes and it somehow turned even more into Sonadow (like, I imagined Cartoon Sonic & Shadow finding out in a very abrupt way that the movie versions were an item. <- to my delight I did find a fic with a premise very similar to this just not movie universe related. Also played with the idea of Sonic and/or Shadow accidentally kissing the wrong counterpart in their excitement at being reunited which Awakened Some Things for the receiver of the unexpected passion😂 )

The dream kinda acted as a base that inspired daydreams to spiral out from my brain without permission but I just... mentally jumped into it because ships sometimes grab you like that.

And Sonic Prime made my sprouting interest worse, basically fuel to the fire, so now I am obsessed with them... like what a fucking way to get into a ship