#god im so nervous posting this

[tusks-and-claws]

Cold Love/Hot Blood

Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: “Between teeth on a broken jaw/following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw”

Miguel is struck with something that he’s never experienced before

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, dubcon by way of pheromones, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, feral Miguel, biting, marking, blood drinking, paralytic venom

Wordcount: 3k

Ao3 link here

-

You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light from the bleary haze. Wincing, you raised your hand to your head. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it definitely felt wrong. What had happened? You were on a mission. That's right. And it had been going so well, until… until the anomaly villain threw something at you and Miguel. What was it? It had such an awful smell to it. And, where was Miguel?

You traversed the rubble of the abandoned building you were in. You couldn't see him. You shouted out for him.

"Here, I'm here," you heard him from the distance. Following his voice, you found him under some pieces of sheetrock from a collapsed wall. He was pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask.

"Geez, Miguel, are you alright?"

"Been better." His voice sounded strained. "Got a transmission from Jess that she's got hands on the anomaly. We'll meet her back at HQ. You go on ahead of me."

"What? No, we have to-" you started grabbing at the rubble to pull it off of him. He caught your arm before you could keep lifting.

"Please," he said, trying to meet your eyes from behind his mask. "Just go."

"What the hell is going on, Miguel? You're not… you're not acting right. We have to get you out of here."

He brought his hands up, holding his head in frustration. "Please, just do it. Don't make me beg."

"LYLA, please check him," you said, the avatar popping up and saluting you.

"No, don't-!" He tried to catch her in the air but she evaded him.

"His heart rate is really elevated but he seems okay otherwise. I think he's being dramatic. I don't detect any major injuries," she reported. You thanked her and she disappeared.

You crouched down to where he was. "What's going on, Miguel?" Your tone was serious.

He tried to hold your gaze for a moment until he swore and looked away. "That bomb that the anomaly threw… it affected me in a way that it clearly didn't affect anyone else, alright? Are you happy now?"

You furrowed your brow. "I don't understand."

He sighed, his breath shaking ever so slightly. "Itwasapheromonebomb." He said it so quickly and quietly.

"...What?"

"It was a pheromone bomb. Just leave me here so I can wait it out. This is so shocking humiliating- I," he sighed again. "Don't make me explain any further."

You blushed, not sure what to say. But you couldn't leave him like that, half-buried and vulnerable. "Can I at least help you up…? I promise I won't make fun of you. I just can't leave you defenseless like this."

He seethed for a moment, considering your offer. "...Fine. Grab this stupid sheetrock."

You did so, lifting it off of him with some effort. He did his best to stand up quickly. Despite his best, though, you could see the source of his embarrassment. He had a rock hard erection, and a particularly desperate one, by the looks of it. It laid upward, reaching towards his abdomen and pushing up against the tight fabric of his suit, straining. The size of him was nothing short of impressive.

You turned your gaze pointedly towards the ground as he moved away from the pile of rubble. Don't react don't react don't react. Could you pretend like you didn't notice? Even though not noticing was impossible, even from a single glance? You swallowed a lump in your throat, your head swimming with unprofessional thoughts.

Miguel turned from you, crouching down, hissing out a slow breath. "Fuck, it's getting worse," he whispered to himself, his body starting to tremble.

You took a step closer, reaching a hand out to his shoulder.

"Your proximity isn't… isn't helping." He admitted without turning around.

You stopped, silently moving your hand away from him. Touching him would surely make things harder.

"Miguel, I don't think waiting it out is an option for you. You just said it was getting worse."

He swore under his breath to himself. "I didn't mean for you to hear that. This is- shock it- this is completely foreign to me. Never been hit by anything like this before, it's s-so intense."

You winced at that, you'd never heard his voice so pained. But, what was the other option? You shivered just to think about it, your body reacting in ways that surprised you. How could you possibly propose helping him without making him think less of you? Would he even want help from you? Across from you, he was in turmoil, on his hands and knees trying desperately to control his breathing.

“Miguel… how can I help you?” It was a foolish question, a loaded question.

“You know the answer,” he replied from over his shoulder, his tone cold. He cried out again. “I- I can’t- can’t do that to you.”

“What if I’m offering?” You asked, a little too quickly, pushing down your fear and embarrassment for even thinking such things.

He turned further to meet your eyes, though you still couldn’t see his from behind the mask. You didn’t even need to see his eyes, his body language was communicating perfectly on their behalf. His muscles were pent up and quivering. Every breath rocked his massive shoulders. “Why?”

You didn’t think he’d ask that question. You searched your brain for an answer. “Because it isn’t your fault. And I respect you enough that this won’t change my mind.”

His thoughts seemed to be diverting to his baser instincts, his voice becoming a growl. “Need you… to be sure. Don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“I’m sure,” you said.

In no time at all, he pounced, bringing you to the ground. He was on top of you, his taloned fingers caging in your wrists against the cracked concrete of the floor, your arms above your head. You landed with your legs apart and with him between them, his hips desperately close to yours. Your eyes widened at his feral energy, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. He brought his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling. His exhale was shaky. “You smell so good… always smelled so good.”

Your body grew hot upon hearing that. Always? Had he thought about you in that way before? You smiled to yourself as he nuzzled the nose of his masked face into your neck, his hot breath coming through and ghosting over your skin. You could feel his huge frame shaking around you. He brought his hips down to your pelvis, seemingly being as cautious as possible as he began to grind his hardened length against you. His breath quickened at the contact, and he met you again with fervor, stimulating himself on you. His cock was unbelievably hard and hot, the temperature of him coming through both of your suits to meet your skin and overwhelm you. The feeling of him against you was sending shivers down your spine, the pleasant pressure made even sweeter by the promise of more to come. He positioned himself on top of you in such a way that each rhythmic, grinding rock found your clit and teased it with clothed contact.

You moaned lightly, the sound of it causing him to growl into your neck. You lifted your hips up, meeting him with the same tempo so he could grind into you more thoroughly, your bodies now writhing in tandem. His heavy breathing became panting. "Need to… need to touch you." He picked up his head and released your wrists, one hand steadying himself on the concrete, the other reaching down eagerly.

You got the memo, quickly slipping the pants of your suit down and throwing them aside so he wouldn't rip them off for you. You had at least enough hindsight to know you couldn't go back to HQ looking so disheveled. He dismissed the gloves of his suit and retracted his talons as his fingers found you immediately, honing in on the wet heat of your sex. Two plunged inside as he loomed above you, his muscles shaking again as he wet his fingers with your arousal. You shook right alongside him, your reaction bodily, as your back arched and your legs closed instinctively to hold his hand in place and not let him go. His fingers hooked inside of you, already relentless.

"Soaked," he whispered, almost to himself. The word resonated with a deep, animalistic hunger. Without removing his fingers from your warmth, he sat back on his knees and used his free hand to pry your legs open. "Need to see," he said. He watched the length of his fingers disappear over and over. The large hand that kept your legs wide was squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh, and he seemed fixated on the way it was yielding to his rough touches. Nearly everyone was small compared to Miguel, but you… you were different. He had his hands on you, inside of you, the comparison was tangible. You were small, soft, and his. His mind swam with how he would take you, how he would sheath himself inside of you until he bottomed out, how he would desperately fill you with his hot cum and hold your hips up to keep any precious drops from leaking out. It took everything in him to not reach down and start rubbing his impatient cock through his suit, but his fevered brain convinced him to keep his free hand on your leg so he could watch you fall apart from his fingers alone.

He was delirious as your walls started to spasm around his fingers, white hot pleasure pooling in your core, threatening to overflow as he kept up his efforts. The constriction of your muscles bolstered him, and he began to go faster and harder, starting to overstimulate you. You threw your head back, hands wildly trying to grasp at something on the concrete floor but coming up short. He removed his hand from your throbbing sex to start teasing your clit with abandon, and you moaned as your body lifted up off the floor.

"H-holy shit, Miguel," you gasped out. "It's- it's so much."

His hand moved so fast against your swollen clit that you could hardly think. The feeling was electric, and your orgasm was dangerously close. Your legs started to shake and tried to close around him again, but he kept them forced open as he intently watched, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. You came and it utterly racked you, your body shuddering as you cried out, hot liquid spewing from you and drenching Miguel's hand and forearm. You squirted on him, because of him. You thought you should be embarrassed, but he gave you no opportunity.

As your head just started to clear, he recalled his mask into the neck of his suit. You quietly gasped at unexpectedly seeing his face. So strong, angular, and handsome. His red eyes looked wild, his mouth was open, his fangs fully extended. He studied his hand, turning it over so the mess you made could catch the light. As it started to dry down on him, he brought the two fingers that had been inside of you up to his mouth, and he licked them both clean. You gaped at him, almost fully unable to process what was happening.

When he was finished, he turned his gaze from his fingers and back onto you, as you sat up on your elbows to watch him. You saw that his cock was still as hard as ever, still pushing to break free. As if reading your mind, he recalled that part of his suit too as he grabbed your legs and yanked you toward him. He rested his cock over your abdomen, once again reveling in just how much bigger than you he was. The hot weight of his manhood on your skin set you ablaze once more and you eagerly awaited him. He thrusted but without penetrating you, sliding himself over you and wetting his cock on your cum. His exhales quaked with anticipation until he could wait no longer. Even on his knees, he towered over you, and so he needed to tilt your hips up further so your entrance could meet the head of his leaking cock. He shifted his grip to your waist, holding firm as you steadied yourself on your elbows and looked to him with bated breath.

He slowly pushed his hips into you, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. The steady penetration had you reeling. You needed to feel him, all of him. Every inch, all at once. It felt like it took ages for him to finally reach the hilt, but when he did, he waited inside of you for a brief, merciful moment. You basked in the feeling of being so full, so complete. He began to pull himself out of you, leaving you cold and empty for a split second until he slammed his entire length back into you, repeating and repeating at an unwavering pace.

Each powerful thrust reached so deep inside of you that it was nearly painful. Immediately, the head of his cock found your cervix and was hitting it with each hard pump that Miguel delivered. Your eyelids grew heavy as your eyes began to roll back towards your skull. His onslaught was so thorough, every smack of his hips against your pelvis reverberating through every inch of your body. The overstimulation of when he fingerfucked you had carried over, and you were already close to losing control all over again. He felt it too, as he growled in response to your pulsating walls.

"This cunt…." He snarled through his fangs. "This cunt is mine."

"Yours," you moaned, meeting his words a little too quickly.

"Going to mark you… so everyone knows."

"Mark me, Miguel." You agreed, not quite realizing what he meant. He started to lay you down onto the ground without removing himself from you, continuing to fuck you in missionary as he brought his face down to the crook of your neck. Your pulse quickened with excitement. He opened his mouth, his breath making your skin somehow even warmer. You wished that you could've seen the flash of his fangs before what came next.

He bit down on you, hard, and you could feel the course of his venom like molten lava through your veins. When the searing heat reached its crest, a soothing wash of warmth followed in its wake, leaving your muscles loosened and relaxed. Blood started to drip down your shoulder, the wet trickle quickly cooling as it made contact with the atmosphere. Miguel stayed latched to you as his tongue met your skin, lapping at the red stream, determined to consume it all.

You submitted to him fully, allowing him to position you how he saw fit so he could fulfill his feral need. His strong hands snaked around your torso to your back, lifting you up with him as he rocked back onto his knees. He helped you to swing your legs around his slim waist and to drape your arms over his huge shoulders. You let your face settle against his neck, the clean musky smell of him overwhelming your senses. His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up and down on his cock, fucking himself with your pussy like you weighed nothing at all. You moaned into him as you clenched around his cock, your limp body succumbing to the overpowering feeling of him. You started to shudder as your orgasm claimed you with a white-knuckled grip. You whined into Miguel's neck as it hit you with shock after shock, your vision going spotty while your cunt tightened around him.  

He couldn't hold it any longer, and his cock jerked inside of you as he came. You were still getting hit with aftershocks of your own climax, your muscles bearing down to milk every drop of cum that he filled you with. He held you closer and he thrusted himself as far into you as he possibly could, instinctively trying to make sure as little seed would have the chance to leak out of you as possible.

Your muscle control started to slowly come back to you as you and Miguel were chest-to-chest, both of you sweating and heaving. You weakly raised your arms so your hands could tangle with the hair at the nape of his neck. You lingered there for a bit, his strong arms holding you in the place as you played with soft locks of chocolate hair. You finally leaned back to see clarity slowly returning to Miguel's expression, and he looked utterly mortified. He held your gaze as he turned red, removing one hand from your body so he could cover his face.

"Oh my God," he whispered. "What the shock came over me?"

You were struck with sudden fear. "Do you… not remember?" The fact that he was still buried inside you should've been a dead giveaway.

"No, I do," he said, nervously. "I remember getting hit with that stupid bomb, and you helping me, then me wanting to split you in half."

You couldn't help but giggle at that.

"I tried to make sure I wasn't too rough with you. I was still in there, the whole time," he said, taking his hand away from his face to smooth your hair. He stopped when he reached your neck, seeing the bite marks he left. "Guess I didn't do all that well, did I?"

"It's fine. I can take it."

"Clearly," he said, raising his eyebrows, mildly impressed. "Thank you. I… don't know what I would have gone through if you hadn't been so… generous. But… for God’s sake, let’s not go around telling people what happened. We have reputations.”

You agreed, the secret safe between the two of you, the puncture wounds on your neck a silent souvenir.

[isjasz]

Lower One's Eyes

Thumbnail by @vesperionnox my partner in desertduo crime!! Go check it out its my first animatic ever help KJEKAJSKLSJ <3

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

world's most annoying man is not allowed outside due to his inability to shut up

[mizodorito]

theres no place like….I WANNA BE A WITCH

og image under cut!

[feelo-fick]

WELCOME TO PHIO'S EXTREMELY SELF INDULGENT AU HOUR!!!

"Oh, FINALLY, another visitor! It's so quiet in here, it's unnerving..."

—

This AU was meant to be posted on halloween but eh.... Happy Thanksgiving? HAHAHHA

still dont have a name for it, but basically, back in october i was suddenly hit with the need to have a halloween au, so now we have ghost-ified prismo and vampire/witch-ified scarab :D ( although didnt finish the scarab reference spread in time because uh, school and i lost motivation unfortunately )

au synopsis and rambling below the cut!!

the premise of this au is simple : scarab is a real estate agent whos known for his manners ( never barges in, always waits to be invited! though it is a little weird how he keeps asking to be let inside even if they already agreed that he was going to come over... ) and efficiency at his job - that is, convincing people to buy high-end housing for a good price. although his social skills need some... work, his ability to persuade people isnt something to be laughed at.

unfortunately for him, persuading the higher-ups is a completely different story - which he learned the hard way after flunking something big for the company. they dont choose to fire him, no. instead, they put him through a trial, assigning him to sell their most unprofitable property : the mansion in a small town locally known for being haunted by an "evil spirit". if scarab manages to sell it (for good profit) within six months, he is excused and is able to go on with his job. if not... well, best not to think about it, yes? after all, he'll succeed with ease - all he has to do is dispel any worries about some fake "ghost" that only exists as a result of filthy rumors. maybe clean up the place. not too hard, right?

meanwhile, stuck inside said mansion is an extremely bored prismo. hes been hangin around this place for like... how many years now? forty? a hundred? meh, all the same, lately the place has been quieter than usual. i mean- of course people dont just walk into a creepy mansion every day, but there would usually be at least a few bold kids or vloggers coming in now and then for him to entertain but even then they wouldn't stay long ( for obvious reasons ). and now, just some unbound spirits or dumb animals would pass by and thats about it. a guy can only entertain himself for so long, yknow?

that is, until today. when some posh-looking business man entered the premises and started snooping around ( whats the deal with that, by the way?? ). must be prismo's lucky day!! this is the perfect chance to pull out all the stops and play the FUNNIEST prank ever! hah!

... oh. looks like things've gotten a little out of hand.

—

WOOT WOOT WOOTTTTTTTTTTT!!! im so so happy to finish this because ohhhhh my god this has taken ages for no reason other than the fact that ive been really dragging myself to make presentable art JSNDJSJXNSJX.... i realize that i have never worked in real estate ( or at all ) which means i have probably fucked something up but uhh um ill deal with the backlash later :"D im also realizing how many odd unanswered bits and bobs this au is going to have in the future, which... i am ignoring for the most part for now, but there are SOME things that i DO have figured out like ghost lore... but thats for another time, for now i leave you with this >:)

[gyuldaengie97]

Have you ever felt like home by looking at that one person anyone. The sense of love, comfort and security that's what HOME is to me wby? Comment down 👇

XOXO, gyuldaengie97💓

[paradoxbeta]

A non-exhaustive collection of alien headshots from my worldbuilding project. That one on the far right looks especially strange.

[a-lilypad]

here's a little snippet from the a/b/o jegulus smut fic i'm writing rn because i'm bored and super excited to share <3

Regulus looked at him for a moment and then suddenly he and James were kissing again. It was fast and hungry, the desperation they both felt seeping into it.

Before he knew it, James had moved him so he was lying down and caged between his arms, one of the alpha’s thighs between his, so close to where he wanted it yet so far.

Regulus was scratching at James’ back while pushing his hips up, trying to get him closer, to get him to press down and give him some friction, but he only responded by threading his hands through Regulus’, now damp, hair and pulling hard. His lips fell open with a gasp and James, encouraged by the reaction did it again, using Regulus’ pleasure as an opportunity to lick into his mouth, the warmth of his tongue permeating his entire being. 

Regulus had never been so warm in his life, the places pressed up against James were on fire, the fingertips stroking his skin setting him aflame. He was burning hot, it felt like he was in the company of the sun rather than a person and at that moment he understood why Icarus kept flying.

If he had to choose between his life and feeling the way he felt with James in that moment he knew he would throw his life away every single time.

[cupidzrock-net]

💗💜💙 happy bi visibility month to my fav bi-con <3

[lizardhipsdontlie]

yeah im still here drawing thirst

[bugtoast]

guys what the fuck what the fuck a (kinda big??? idk???) youtuber just made a video about that one tumblr myth analysis that i chimed in on awhile ago and the video ended the video on my little analysis part?????? what???? anyways uh??? hi!!!! if you're coming from the Bettina Levy video, hi!!!! if you're looking for more analysis of things like that you're probably not gonna get it, cause I only really post random shit about my hyperfixations on here!!! i mean i might do more things like that if i get hyperfixated on something but like!!! hi!!!

idk im just??? im so surprised that im now in a video with (as of the time of writing this) 8.7k views????

[s1nful-sa1nt]

okay hear me out

Brienne x werewolf reader

She's tasked with getting the reader from point A (their home in the middle of bumfuck nowhere probably) to point B (a doctor/witch who might be able to cure them) safely, but is warned that the reader is afflicted with a terrible curse that makes them transform into something beast-like and otherworldly by moonlight.

Brienne scoffs at this thinking it's nothing more than a cruel joke, and she goes to fetch the reader.

They embark on their several-some measure of time-long journey, almost arriving at their destination, and they have to set up camp for the night.

Of course, the reader is terrified because this particular night happens to be THE night, but Brienne has absolutely none of it. The sun sets, they eat, and both crawl into their respective tents for the night.

The reader, however, feels the beginning of the transformation nagging at their bones and they burst forth from the tent, stripping their clothes as they charge deeper into the woods to avoid becoming a beast in front of Brienne.

The commotion is fairly loud and wakes Brienne, so she grabs her sword and heads out to see what was happening. Immediately, she notices the readers tent wide open and nobody inside. Looking further, she spots a trail of... clothing? What on earth happened? So she decides to follow the clothes that have been strewn about the forest floor.

Meanwhile, the reader has found a clearing large enough to transform without hurting themselves, and they finally let go. Their bones snap and painfully rearrange themselves, their teeth fall out and are replaced by bright white fangs. Dark grey fur races across their broken and bloody skin, nails elongating and turning black. Eyes going from their normal color to a striking gold.

Their shift is complete after several agonizing minutes, and it's just in time for them to notice a presence behind them. Brienne. How did she find them, and more importantly, why hasn't she started running away yet? So the reader turns to face her and lets out a deep and guttural snarl. Fear washed across Brienne's face but she stands her ground.

This has never happened before. Their whole life, reader had been treated as a monster by everyone they knew. Even now, they were trying to get rid of this curse to live out a normal life.

And yet, Brienne stayed. In fact, she stepped closer and closer. The reader let out deep growls with each step but remained hunched over on all fours, still too weak and pained to move.

Finally, Brienne is less than an arm's length from the great beast. She reaches out, drawing back slightly when the reader pulls their head back, only to place her palm directly onto their forehead.

She sets her sword down and sits on the ground to try and show the reader that she isn't afraid of them, and the reader moves to sit down in front of her. Their eyes are locked, and Brienne brings both of her hands to cup the readers cheeks.

The reader has never felt affection like this before, and it's almost too much. They want to run away, but something in Brienne's eyes convince them to stay. Is it... love?

Over the course of the journey, the two had become close. The reader had almost immediately fallen for Brienne because who wouldn't, but Brienne fell harder when she realized the reader truly cared for her and saw past what she perceived as a "hideous appearance"

Finally, it ends when the reader curls up around Brienne and wraps their tail around her arm, convincing Brienne to sleep on top of them. She accepts and curls into the giant mound of fur before rather quickly falling asleep. In the morning, they return back to the camp where the reader decides they don't want to be cured if it means they can stay with Brienne.

She simply laughs and pulls the reader in for a kiss

(like of course this is gonna be more fleshed out and I'm not totally sure if all this makes sense bc it's like 1AM here and I should be asleep but I'm not)

[syn4k]

okay so since we've basically finished the draft of the first chapter of this fic we're working on and since we're going to be posting it exactly a week from now on may 30th as planned (unless something goes horribly and i mean HORRIBLY wrong), i figured that i may as well finally start posting a little bit about it here because this thing's been cooking for a few weeks now and man are we excited about it.

without further ado, everybody get ready for... salt and the sea!!! (named after the Lumineers song :3)

so about a month back our dear friend quincy @starry-storm-main watched a mianite s1 clip we sent xem in which tom did one of his signature Tom Things and tucker (whom he was living with irl at the time) muted himself in the call but could still clearly be heard screaming in agony from upstairs from tom's stream. and xey were like "hey what if you interpreted the fact that we could still hear tucker as an in-universe psychic link between him and tom" and we were like YOUR BRAIN IS HUGE AND I NEED TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THIS NOW.

things very quickly got out of hand past that point and since then the idea has expanded into a full study of tom's loyalties being split between his friends and his god, with the mental link between him and tucker kinda accenting everything that's going on on that side of things.

so yeah this is gonna be a longfic (or at least a multichapter) and it's also almost certainly gonna get into some pretty heavy territory eventually so uh. have fun everybody and be prepared to get ur titties blown off 👍

[anixknowsnothin]

castles crumbling

Week 1 of @ttpdpoetryweek !!

Song: Castles Crumbling I stand amidst the ruins, Of what my castle used to be, Walls so high but reduced to dust and stone And I am a nobody.

To build a castle, my castle, And then see it crumble down, To soar so high, among the greats But now no matter what I do, I drown.

“You are what you say you are” But that’s not true, is it? You are what they say you are. Oh how they love being a hypocrite.

I didn’t mean to become a ‘monster’ All I ever tried was to make a name A name chanted by millions I guess there truly is a price for fame.

[becauseplot]

Staying Level-Headed

You know everyone was looking at qPhil coming back chanting “KILLZA KILLZA KILLZA” and like yeah we all want it, and we sort of got it through the initial chaos: the lava cast over the presidential building, the threats of further action against the Federation. It's not exactly the violent/furious rampage some might've been wanting or expecting, though.

And honestly? I'm glad---because it makes perfect sense.

Since the start, Phil has been very upfront about his thoughts concerning the egg situation. He knew and believed and repeatedly expressed (to his kids, sometimes!) that there was a very good chance they were going to die, or get taken away. He's always been very practical about death and treated it as an inevitable force that can't be evaded. Man, you can trace it back in his character so far. When the Nightmare happens, and Phil is holding a dying Chayanne in his arms, he says something to the effect of, "I'm so sorry, they just don't want you to live in this world."

A fact. A hard, cold, undeinable fact.

Phil is pragmatic. Married to Death. Hinted at having lived a long, long time; seen many things, outlived many people.

He is a survivor. And rule number one of being a survivalist: always be prepared to be faced with the cruel, the unfair, and the unexpected.

So, yes, of course it hurts. He never wanted his kids to be taken away from him---but he's braced for the blow. He has been mentally fortifying himself for a moment like this for months, and on another level, most of his life.

Thus, after he has a moment to allow himself to break, he takes a deep breath and keeps a level head. He talks to Tubbo and Fit, lets them fill him in on the situation, doesn't demand answers they don't have. When they tell him about how the island's president has gone off the deep end, Phil's immediate instinct is to believe the best in Forever and that he must be being manipulated by the Federation in some way. (Seriously! He draws that conclusion so fast! He immediately recognizes Forever as a victim rather than a threat or an enemy, despite Forever's position of power and "emotional unavailability.") And yeah, Phil instagates the lava cast, which is still griefing, but it's a localized, controllable form of griefing that is inflicted upon Federation territory only, and he follows it up with threats of further action with a viable plan. Then, he immediately plunges into an investigation of the old freezer/prison with Tubbo to look for any possible clues left behind.

Look, this isn't to say that the way that qPhilza---or ccPhilza, for that matter---is handling the situation "better" than anyone else, or that the other characters aren’t capable of making rational decisions. All of the other characters' various reactions, breakdowns, retaliations, and quests for answers are believable, well-played, and fascinating. (Like fuck dude the ccs are COOKING right now; and objectively speaking, the mines are pretty goddamn funny lol.) I just want to outline exactly why qPhil's reaction works so, so, so well for his character and why I'm ultimately glad that he didn't go all hyper-murdery, stewing about putting the Federation's heads on a pike or storming the Federation HQ or anything like that.

((Also, it's worth mentioning that all of his plans aren't """perfect""" decisions for the situation! Like his plan to play keep-away with Forever's briefcase of drugs until the effects of his last dose wear off. We know how unstable Forever becomes when the withdrawal starts to set in---he began to panic and pulled a gun on Phil. As terrible as the pills are for him, Forever becomes a danger to himself and the people around him when the medication wears off. He's so fragile right now, so if Phil going to try to get him to go cold-turkey, ideally, Phil would need to do it in a safer environment than just, fucking anywhere. Also Phil's follow-up plan is to assassinate Forever, potentially by taking advantage the apparent trust Forever has in Phil??? Like I get it, desperate times require desperate measures, and it still makes for an interesting story line that I would absolutely gobble up, but OW???? Like qPhil, bestie, are you sure that's the best plan in the long run????? Anyway, I digress.))

So that's about it. I miss my little huevos but I love this arc SO so much and I love pPhil and I have so many thoughts about him and I can't wait to see where this goes. Rambles over. Gn <3

[raisans-art]

Every day I get closer to posting April 24th and every day I have another heart attack