#i hope they find a better balance in the third game

[thisfairytalegonebad]

enjoying the hell out of the story parts of ffvii rebirth but the requirements for the platinum trophy are driving me into madness holy shit

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!

Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.

He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.

(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)

He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.

He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.

He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.

Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.

Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.

Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.

He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.

So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.

He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.

What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?

He flirts with Death.

Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.

Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.

Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.

"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.

He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.

Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.

"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."

Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."

"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.

"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.

"Please don't call him that."

Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."

Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."

"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.

Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.

He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!

"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"

"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."

"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.

"I'm older than you"

There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."

"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.

While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.

"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"

"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"

Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.

"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.

The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.

"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"

Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.

It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?

Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.

Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.

Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.

Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.

Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.

[ink-n-shadow]

I have this head cannon that Soap and Gaz are always fooling around casually. Basically friends with benefits situation. Just filfy horny shit to meet their needs. But... They then spot you in a bar and give each other a knowing look.

now THIS…this is DELICIOUS

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS...AND THEN SOME

𝜗𝜚 the one where soapgaz find the perfect third

𝜗𝜚 pairing: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader x kyle "gaz" garrick (with mentions of soap x gaz) 𝜗𝜚 cw: brief smut and allusions to it (minors—DNI), innocent!reader, random drunk man trying to hit on you, borderline perv!soapgaz (if you really wanna call them that)

because neither of them ever really considered the other until a particularly long deployment happened, where soap desperately needed a hand and gaz didn’t mind lending him one if it got him to shut the fuck up for two seconds.

but that one time turned into a routine, filled with teasing gropes and filthy makeout sessions that usually ended with both of them grinding their hard cocks into the other’s thigh. it’d usually be a game of who cums first, and soap usually always loses, especially when gaz drops his head down to swirl a tongue around the scottish man’s pert nipple.

soapgaz would froth at the mouth when they bring in a third person, but neither of them had seen such a pretty third before they saw you.

you, sitting pretty all alone at the bar as you stirred whatever cocktail you’d decided to order. you look extremely bored, chin balanced in the palm of your hand and a yawn ripping through your chest. you especially look bored with the drunk man sitting next to you, droning on and on about god know’s what in hopes he can slip a hand between your thighs.

no words are exchanged between soap and gaz as they push themselves up from leaning over the bar, sharing a knowing glance between them and clinking their beer bottles together before stalking towards you like predators hunting their prey.

and you, as innocent and sugary sweet as ever, don’t notice the heat embedded in their gaze as they rescue you from the sleezeball sitting next to you, shoving him off into the crowd of the busy bar before they sandwich you between their muscled bodies at the bar.

gaz would do all the smooth talking, charismatic as ever as he gets you to spill your guts to him about you, your life, your ex who had cheated on you an hour ago so you decided to get your revenge by coming to a bar for a sleazy hookup. and gaz is all sympathetic and sweet to you, slinging an arm around your waist and cooing into your ear how much better you deserve, how you’re too pretty to be in such a place like this.

and this is when soap swoops in, calloused palm cusping your knee and thumb rubbing gentle circles as he agrees with his mate. “pretty things like you’ll get eaten in a place like this, bonnie,” soap chastises you with a click of his silver tongue, leaning in until his nose just barely grazes the shell of your ear. “s’okay though—we’ll protect you, yeah? y’wanna come ‘ome with us?”

and you can’t help but fall for their pretty words and soft touches, a hand gripping both of theirs as they lead you out do the bar doors and to an alley a few streets over, taking their time picking you apart before finally devouring you whole.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[starrgaziinggg]

by your side | lee minho x reader (3.5k words)

warning -> heavy topics. lots of sadness. a little angst. read at your own risk, it may break your heart.

Minho held flowers behind his back. Lillie’s, with baby’s breath and tulips, too. The florist had raised an eyebrow at the odd combination of flowers, but he had shrugged in return. They were your three favourites, after all.

You’d been distant for a while now. Not taking him up on the spontaneous adventures you were usually jumping at - hiking, road trips, going to the beach and always swimming in the sea even if it was freezing cold. Anything that helped pull you both astray from your mundane office jobs.

Minho didn’t know what he’d done. Not a clue. The only time you’d been this weird with him was when he forgot your third year anniversary. Forgot has to be used loosely, since him forgetting was only a ploy to surprise you with a hotel stay and a fancy dinner. And even then, you’d been in a huff for about three hours and gotten over it almost as quickly as you’d gotten into it.

This was different. He felt you physically pulling away from him. Hence, the early return of work and the bouquet of flowers.

He hesitates before opening the door of your shared apartment, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Balancing the flowers, he pulls out his phone to read the text.

Seungmin

Hope all goes well, lover boy

Let me know when she’s feeling better, she owes me a shopping spree

Minho chuckles inwardly at the younger boys text. He’s the whole reason he met you all those years ago - Seungmin’s friend from high school, his roommate during the first year of college. Until, that is, Minho became infatuated with you and stole you from him, as Seungmin would so lovingly put it.

He’d lied when Seungmin had asked him if everything’s okay. “She’s just feeling slightly under the weather,” he’d replied. He pockets his phone, takes a deep breath, and pushes open the door.

But you’re not there, sprawled out on the couch like you usually would be. No kdrama streaming, no snacks on the coffee table. In fact, the apartment looks desolate, until he sees you walking out of the bedroom.

With a suitcase. A fucking suitcase.

“I -,” Minho starts, hesitantly pulling the bouquet from behind his back. You look at him, tears brimming in your eyes, before looking at the window.

“This isn’t working out,” you rush, a stupid mess of words that stab Minho in the heart. “I’m going to stay at my parents for a bit. Please don’t contact me.”

Minho can’t find the words. There’s only a handful of times he’s been speechless, and this is one of them. It’s not working out? The four years you’d been together hadn’t worked out? What the fuck did that even mean, when all you’d shared together was the happiest memories of Minho’s life.

“What’s happening?” he asks, his voice small as the flowers fall to the ground. The confusion is evident in his tone, even more so when you don’t reply and start walking towards the door.

He blocks your path, taking your arms in his hands gently. “Please talk to me. Whatever it is, I can fix it, we can fix it. Just please, please don’t leave.”

You don’t look at him, eyes trained on the ground. “It can’t be fixed.”

He interrupts you, shaking his head furiously, the tears finding their way down his face. “It can! We can fix anything, yeah? Me and you, forever, that’s what we said.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you say, rushing past him and fleeing the apartment, slamming to door behind you and leaving Minho alone.

He’ll phone you in the morning when you’re calm, he decides. He will think of whatever could be the reason you’re leaving him, and he will do everything in his power to fix it.

He sobs into his hands for the remainder of the evening.

Felix is hitting the buttons of the controller furiously, a weak attempt at beating Seungmin and Jeongin at Mario kart. It was tradition, for the boys to come round to Minho’s and yours to play games on a Friday night. Minho had, for obvious reasons, attempted to cancel, but the boys had heard none of it.

“She’s probably just going through a phase,” Seungmin says absentmindedly, eyes not leaving the screen. “She once iced me out for five days because I ate her last ice cream.”

Minho huffs. “It’s been a week, Seung. A fucking week and she’s not responded to a single one of my calls or texts. I just want to talk to her, figure out what I’ve done wrong.”

He’s felt like a shell of himself the past week. Waking up in the morning without your touch on his skin is hell and he doesn’t want to do it anymore.

“Have you cheated?” Jeongin asks with a cheeky grin. Minho sends a pillow flying at his head. “Sorry! I was kidding, I know you’d never.”

“Maybe she just needs some space,” Felix offers. “You know what you’re both like, clung to each other constantly. But, saying that, I fucking miss her too.”

“And she still owes me that shopping spree,” Seungmin adds, which Minho rolls his eyes at.

“You mean she hasn’t been texting you guys either?” He asks, confused. Seungmin was your friend long before he was Minho’s, and you were just as close with Jeongin and Felix as him. Icing him out was one thing, but leaving your friends out of the loop? Absurd.

“Nope, and if she doesn’t respond in the next week I’ll be taking the two hour trip to her family home and cussing her out,” Seungmin says, which slightly brightens Minho’s mood. The guys don’t seem to think anything of this, so why should he? He knows you, and he knows you wouldn’t waste the last four years over nothing. You’ll come back to him. You had to.

On one particularly lonely night, Minho looks through the scrapbook you’d made after a road trip with the boys. It was spontaneous, a summer idea that started as a drunken conversation and ended with the five of you packing your bags and driving three hours to a cabin by the lake.

The boys had been restless, hitting each other in the back seat and fighting over who got aux. You’d calmed them down instantly, opting to play car games as Minho drove. When you arrived at the cabin, the first thing you did was go down to the lake and feed the ducks.

“How often do you think these little guys get fed?” You’d asked him, chucking the pricey store bought food towards them. Minho had chuckled, snapping pictures of you bent down by the river side.

“I’d say pretty often. Look how fat that one is!” He pointed with a laugh. You’d swatted at him.

“Don’t fat shame the duck, you bully,” you’d laughed, making sure every single duck had eaten before standing up. “Maybe we should have a barbecue tonight! The weathers amazing, and if we leave it to those three to choose we will be going into the local town to get takeout.”

Minho smiled, pulling you into his embrace and pecking you on the lips. “That sounds great. You and Felix could make bibimbap too?”

You’d clapped your hands, kissing him before breaking away and promptly declaring a race back to the cabin.

He smiles sadly at that photo, the one of you feeding the ducks, but can’t help but laugh at the one of him, Felix, Jeongin and Seungmin in very little clothing because Jeongin thought it would be an excellent idea to play strip poker.

There’s another one, of you on Minho’s back, sticking out your tongue as he held up a peace sign, with Seungmin fake gagging in the back. No matter how much the boys teased you, he knew they loved the two of you together. Jeongin had proclaimed you as the mum and dad of their friend group, often taking care of the younger boys.

And another on the next page, a picture of Felix, items stacked on top of his body as he slept on the sofa. You’d written, ‘this is why you don’t fall asleep first after drinking!’ In the scrapbook, and he traced your handwriting with his finger.

He just wanted you back.

When Seungmin arrived back from his trip to your family home, he goes straight to Minho’s, as instructed. Minho opens the door for him, hopeful and eager. But Seungmin’s face falls.

“She wasn’t there,” he says, moving past Minho to sit on the couch.

“What do you mean she wasn’t there?” Minho asks, his tone sharp, stressed, anxious.

“I mean, when I went to the door and asked to see her, her parents said she wasn’t in,” Seungmin answers. “Said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, but I couldn’t stay and wait for her because I have work.”

There’s a million thoughts running through Minho’s mind. It had been two weeks now, with zero contact. He’d been despondent at work, caging himself up in his apartment that no longer smelled like you. And now Seungmin wasn’t even able to reach you.

“Do you think she’s met someone else?” He asks, barely a whisper, his worst fears making themselves known. Seungmin takes his hand, patting it.

“She wouldn’t do that to you, you know she wouldn’t,” he says assertively, which gives Minho an ounce of reassurance.

“I just want her to talk to me,” Minho sighs, shaking his head.

“Me too, Min. Me too.”

Minho (10 unopened messages)

Today

Felix

Hey Min

Hope you’re okay

I can come round later if you want

Jeongin

Bro

I hate seeing you like this

We’re gonna figure this out, yeah?

Message me back

Seungmin

I promise

I’ll get her back to you

It will be okay

You (126 unopened messages)

Today

Minho

It’s been exactly a month

Please come home to me

We can figure it out together

I love you my darling

Felix

I miss you so much

Please come back to us

Jeongin

Come on

Minho’s a mess without you

Me too

We need you

Seungmin

Get your ass back home

It’s been a fucking month

Why are you doing this do us?

Everyone misses you like death

Just come back

Minho’s walking home from work. It’s been a shit day, a disciplinary with his boss because of how distant he’s been, and all he wants to do is curl up in his bed and think about nothing.

That’s when he spots someone that looks all too familiar at the other end of the street.

It’s you. He knows it’s you walking down the street because he bought you that jacket and that beanie. And he definitely knows it’s you when he shouts your name and you turn around.

And then he’s running down the street like a madman, apologising every time he bumps into people in his attempt to catch up to you. He does so easily, which he finds strange, because you can run faster than him when you want to.

He’s out of breath when he reaches you, placing a hand on your arm as you whip round to face him.

You look tired. Pale and tired.

“Please don’t run away,” is the first thing he says, looking between your eyes as you stand there shell shocked. “Just come up to the apartment and we can talk.”

You reluctantly agree, and momentarily Minho is the happiest man in the world. Even if you didn’t want to be with him, he deserved an explanation.

The two of you walk silently to your old home, walking up the familiar stairs to your door. Minho unlocks it, closing it behind the two of you and taking a seat on the sofa, expecting you to do the same.

You don’t. You stand in front of him, fiddling with your fingers. It’s then he really takes in your appearance, and he can’t help but think you look worse than he does. Was this taking a bigger toll on you than him?

“Before…before we have this conversation,” you start, your voice small. “I need to know if you really want to hear this, because I think it’s better you don’t.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever it is, I want to know why you left me. I need to know. Don’t you think I deserve it?”

You sigh, nodding. Because Minho did deserve it, he deserved an explanation. You just didn’t want to tell him it.

“I’m ill,” you say, and Minho almost wants to laugh, because so what you’re ill? He doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll nurse you back to health.

“I’m terminally ill,” you continued, and that’s when Minho sees the tears brimming at your eyes. You pull off your beanie, and your hair is cut short. “I found out two months ago. I didn’t know what to do, but I -"

You hesitate, the tears falling from your eyes as you wipe them with the sleeves of your hoodie. “I don’t have long left. And I thought it would be better if -”

“You thought it would be better for me to not know?” Minho says angrily, the tears coming to him. You were sick. Terminally sick. And he hadn’t been able to see you for quite possibly the last month of your life. “You thought it would be better for me to sit here for a month worrying about you when I could have been by your side?”

“Minho, stop,” you cry, and he stops, because you asked him to. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want anyone to. I thought if you hated me for leaving you it would be easier when I’m gone.”

Minho has a lump in his throat from your words. When you’re gone.

“Nothing you could ever do could make me hate you,” he says softly, taking your hand and sitting you down on the sofa beside him, because right know he was furious but he loved you more than anything in this world. “Nothing. I just can’t believe you thought…didn’t you know I’d be there for you? Through everything?”

“That’s the problem,” you sob, burying your face in his chest. “You would have had to drop everything to take care of me, and watch me deteriorate because of this fucking illness, and I couldn’t do that to you, or the boys. I don’t want your last memories of me to be ruined.”

He placed a hand on your head, smoothing down your hair and consoling you as you both cried. It seemed like hours, you just sat there sobbing.

“How long?” Minho asks in a voice so small.

“The doctors think another month at most,” you say. “Imagine finding out you have only months to live. I had no idea I was even ill, until I passed out at work and found out…found out I was. They found it too late.”

Minho shakes his head, angry at everything in this world, with tears in his eyes. Why you? Why the love of his life, why the girl who was kinder, smarter and braver than anyone he knew. What had you ever done to deserve this? And he wished it was him. He so, wholeheartedly, wished he could take all you pain and give it to himself.

“Can you promise me one thing,” he whispers, pulling you back gently so you can face him.

“What is it?” You ask, tired and lifeless. He does hate seeing you like this, he knows you were right, but he would take seeing you like this over not seeing you at all any day.

“You let me be by your side throughout the rest of your life. Everything. Every doctors appointment, anything - I want to be there. And you call those boys and get them to come here and we will do everything we can to make you live happily,” Minho says, so sure of himself that you can’t help but nod. You should have known your boyfriend would want nothing less in this world than to be by your side.

Seungmin, Jeongin and Felix are a mess when Minho and you sit them down to tell them the truth. They all sob uncontrollably, hugging you so gently, it’s as if they think you’ll fall apart.

True to his word, Minho does not leave your side for the next month, and the boys spend as much time with you as they possibly can. Some days are harder than others, but Minho holds himself together for your sake, not letting you see him falter once.

He takes you to the beach, letting you watch him jump around in the sea. He brings the boys over to watch movies instead of play games so that you’re not overwhelmed. And when your body starts shutting down, he reads to you in the hospital, all your favourite books.

You live as happily as you can with the boys who adore you for another month and a half. You pass away peacefully, in your sleep, with Minho holding your hand, your parents beside you, and Jeongin, Felix and Seungmin in the waiting room.

“I want to start by thanking you all for coming today,” Minho says, putting on a brave face. He looks around the room that’s brimming with people, too many they had to bring in extra chairs. It was an open funeral, for anyone who wanted to attend. Your work colleagues, college friends…people even Minho didn’t recognise in which your life impacted them. And Felix, Jeongin, Seungmin and your parents in the front row.

“My girlfriend…she will continue to be the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’d never see her without a smile. She could be a stubborn thing,” Minho starts, earning a sad laugh from the crowd. “But I think anyone here can agree she had a positive impact on everyone she met. Everyone. I remember the first time Seungmin introduced me to her, she saw past my somewhat cold demeanour instantly. She saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with her.”

“She has this aura, you see, which you can’t help but to be entranced with. She always puts others before herself. She didn’t even tell me she was ill, because she didn’t want me to be burdened with her. As if she could ever be a burden to me,” Minho shakes his head, a stray tear rolling down his face.

“So, I know she wouldn’t want us to be sad for her. She would want us to think of only the happy memories we have with her, because life is too short to dwell on the negatives. And I am so lucky to have so many amazing memories with her, so lucky.”

Your parents are smiling at Minho, tears in their eyes. Felix is sobbing, Jeongin trying to hold his tears back. Seungmin smiles sadly at Minho, nodding at him to continue.

“My love, I’m sorry that you didn’t have as long as I’d hoped for you. I’m sorry we couldn’t grow old together, with a house in the suburbs and the cats you’d dreamed of. I’m sorry that we couldn’t celebrate our four year anniversary together, because happy anniversary, by the way.”

A sad chuckle carries out through the crowd. People Minho doesn’t know are crying, shaking their heads at such a cruel fate.

“Maybe in another life, my love. Rest easy.”

Through the rest of the day, Minho receives hugs, apologies, and condolences. He’s told he carried himself well and his speech was beautiful. He thanks them kindly. When they bury you, he’s a mess, Seungmin by his side with Felix and Jeongin clinging to each other too. When everyone starts to disperse, your parents lay flowers on your grave, taking a couple minutes to say goodbye. When they’re finished, they ask the boys if they’d like to say a few words, standing to talk to Minho as they do so.

When they come back, tears staining their faces, Seungmin nods at Minho. He walks away from the crowd of people and sits beside your grave, placing his own bouquet beside the others. Lillies, babies breath and tulips.

“I don’t know how much more I can say without bawling my eyes out again,” Minho chuckles sadly. He can picture you laughing and shaking your head at him. “But I just wanted to thank you, for everything. All the happiness you brought to me. It’s going to be tough as fuck to move on in life without you, but I promise you, I will not waste it. See what you’ve done to me? I was such a cynical prick before I met you, and now here I am, promising to make the most of my life.”

Minho wipes at his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I never got the chance to do this, but fucking hell I wish I had. I hope there’s an alternate universe out there where I had.”

He pulls a box from his jacket pocket, opening it up and looking momentarily at the ring shining back at him.

“I’ll never forget you, my love,” he says, placing the box amongst the flowers.

He stands up then, walking back toward the boys and your parents. Seungmin hugs him, holding his arm as they walk away. Minho spends the rest of the day sharing stories and laughs with the people close to you, remembering your life with fondness and happiness you deserve. He would always hate the world for what it did to you, but he could never hate it for letting you be by his side, until your last moments.

Till death do us part, my love.

i cried writing this.

[chamomiletealeaf]

hello! I’m writing for TF141 and I especially want to write for Gaz. However for some reason I keep just lumping him with the same personality as Soap. Tips ;-;??

Hi! I'm so flattered you asked me for advice omg :) Well, from what I've noticed in the game, I personally think Gaz is very intuitive. I think he watches from afar and knows what's gonna happen before it actually does, but doesn't give his opinion unless asked. Part of that I think is one, like I said before, his intuition, but also his training and guidance from Price. I personally think Gaz has had the best character development of all the Task Force since the MW reboot, because he goes from this frustrated recruit not knowing what is too much for him and how to handle it when it is too much, to someone so in control of himself that he's gained phenomenal intuition and self control. He's quiet, calm, an observer like Simon, but he actually is quite snarky (hence his cocky little jokes to Laswell and Price in the MW2 campaign). In the first MW reboot campaign I believe it was, where Gaz had to lead the doctor around the mercs from the security cameras I think showed exceptional intuition and self control since he was so sure she was getting out of there alive and what routes to take. I think that also had to do with just him being a good soldier, but he was very confident (even if it was a playable scene and not a cinematic one, we played as Gaz.) Gaz is always calm when he just knows a situation will turn out alright, and if he visibly panics? You better panic too lol. Soap also led Ghost around mercs in I believe the second campaign? Might have been the third but I believe Soap is just handy with tech due to his demolitions training. Both scenes are very similar, but I feel like Gaz works under pressure more efficiently than Soap mostly because of Soap's temper (Like the scene were Soap almost killed Makarov.)

Anyway, that's just me rambling about my pookie Gaz lol, but I would say the main similarities and differences between Soap and Gaz are:

Differences

Soap is impulsive, hot headed, loud, while Gaz is quiet, a man who thinks before he acts and makes sure everyone's on board with a plan before he jumps into action, intuitive, only gives his two cents when asked, a great advice giver and listener (that last one is just from what vibes I personally get from him rather than from observation throughout the campaigns.) And I think he handles pressure and his temper better.

Similarities

Both Gaz and Soap are both witty and silly. They both are able to find that childlike joy despite the horrors they witness. However, they both know when to be serious even if Soap is a bit more out of pocket than Gaz.

I love both so much, and I'm not saying Gaz is a better soldier than Soap by any means, but that they're different, and handle situations differently.

So when it comes to writing Gaz, I would take all of this into consideration such as: How would a calm approach to this situation be?/ How would observing this situation rather than engaging in it affect the characters?/ What advice could be given to other characters from a well thought out point of view (Gaz's pov)?

I feel like Gaz really thinks before he acts unlike Soap.

And if you wanna get more fun with it, I would ask myself: How would two knuckleheads (Gaz and Soap) observe and react to a funny or shocking situation while staying in character?/ How do clashing personalities bond? In this case, their humor is the same, so writing situations where the two of them are together and giggling at something silently in front of whoever they're laughing at I think is the perfect balance between observing and acting on impulse/lack of self control, thus blending their personalities together.

Sorry if that was a lot, I had a lot to say. I love talking about character personalities and actually evaluated Soap's personality for a college psychology of personality final lol (Got an A).

I hope all of my yapping helps at least a little bit!

[firestorm-can]

And as we bid farewell to Splatoon 3's final regular update, I look back on the past two years of splatting and salmon running and find myself craving even more.

Speaking as someone who's played since the Wii U original, Splatoon 3 has its pros and cons compared to its predecessors--but it offered a lot of welcome Quality of Life changes and new game mechanics that make battling feel so much better than before. The roll and surge were huge game-changers for me, I feel more freedom of movement than ever before in these games.

While the single player modes weren't all that groundbreaking lore-wise, they were still fun in their own right. I'll always rank 1 as the best main story and Octo Expansion as the best expansion, but I still loved playing them when they first came out. With this era basically over, who knows where are humanoid cephalopods will explore next?

As for the Splatfests themselves... err maybe adding a third wheel wasn't the best idea in the long run. Each fest was basically a one-sided affair, with a certain shark-loving octoling taking the most wins. I get that it's hard to balance a huge multiplayer event like this (you're talking to a long-time Altador Cup player), but things felt super-skewed this time around. I doubt adding a fourth item would be much help either, but that's just me.

Whatever comes with Nintendo's new hardware, I hope they can take this franchise even further. Until that day comes, I'll still be playing in the Splatlands so I'm ready for 'em. However, there are other places that still need my attention... and a lot more coming down the line.

Thanks for joining me on this Grand Festival throwback. More Splatoon and other Switch clips to come!

Stay fresh, folks.

[hughesybear]

I just want to say that Jake DeBrusk has scored his first goal of the season on November 2nd for three years in a row. November 2nd is Filip Hronek’s birthday. coincidence? you decide.

Canucks thoughts 11/02/2024:

Quick reminder that Kevin Lankinen makes less money than 22 other goaltenders in the NHL. He signed with the Canucks because he saw the biggest opportunity to prove that he is a starter-calibre goalie with this team, and dear lord was he right. I should not have been afraid of the Canucks losing to the San Jose Sharks in the year of our lord 2024, but thank you Kevin for assuaging my worries. And Pius Suter.

I couldn’t watch most of this game live, which was perhaps for the better, since for a terrible period in time the Canucks were trailing the 2024-2025 Sharks. The fact that the Sharks were even able to tie the game after the Canucks took a lead in the third period is… yikes. It still feels like the team hasn’t found their A-game yet, but the flashes of dominance they’ve shown are very promising! Hopefully the team-wide hesitancy tied to a new system dissipates in time as they settle in and find a better balance between generating offence and giving up way too many odd-man rushes against.

Every game, Quinn Hughes does something that’s just astounding (he should be a Norris contender this year, and in consideration for the Hart and Ted Lindsay, but I digress). That’s something Elias Pettersson used to do too. I have faith he’ll get back to astonishing us every night, and it feels like he’s working his way back, but I still had a lot of Emotions when they showed him talking to Danny and focused in on him before the faceoff. Nobody puts more expectations on him than himself. He dipped below career PPG today for the first time in a long while - I wonder if he’s paying attention to that. It wouldn’t surprise me.

Great to see DeBrusk get his first of the season! That feels like it’ll open the floodgates a bit and he’ll really pop off. I’m already very endeared to him, and I hope the fact that he has a level of long-term security in Vancouver that he never really had in Boston helps him shake off some of his streakiness.

Somehow Pius Suter is one of the most clutch forwards on this team. He always finds the soft areas of the ice to get open, and even if he lacks finish sometimes, his persistence is rewarded with games like we saw tonight. He’s a UFA after this season, and I’m guessing the organization would only be interested in retaining him if he takes a discount like Blueger did, but great stuff from the guy who feels like he has San Jose’s number (according to DeBrusk).

Thank god the Canucks prevented the Sharks from getting their first four-game win streak since 2021-2022. Nothing against the Sharks, I just really did not want to hear all the media noise that would have caused in this market. Hoping the Canucks get 6/6 points on this road trip!

[oobbbear]

Hi again. I hope you’re doing alright and I hope I personally didn’t make you feel upset or uncomfortable or anything. I feel part of it is my fault that you feel down about your art…

But I want you to know that you and your art are truly special and wonderful. Even if it is simply just a hobby…

You and your art mean a lot and I hope you know that you are important and you matter very much! ❤️

First thing first, it’s not!!!!! I love your questions it’s just I had some hard time coming up with answers, it’s never your fault don’t say that :’) !!!!!!

I’ll do my best to answer some of your questions, please take all of these with a giant cart of salt I don’t know anything

Do I study art? Yes, I’m currently in college studying animation. Is it worth it? Depends, most of the stuff they teach you can learn online for free, companies don’t really look at their education level when hiring an artist they focus more on the person’s portfolio, if you can get the job done then they would hire you👍 most people here are to build connections and have a environment and peers to motivate themselves to study.

For the second question, how do I balance art and life? The answer is no I don’t :’) the problem with turning your hobby into work is that you don’t get a hobby anymore, I draw for school then I draw for myself it’s all I do I draw, non stop… I’m trying to get into new hobby lately so I don’t burn my passion away it’s a bit hard but it’s going

Third question is it an alright source of income? I don’t have an answer for it yet since I’m still in school, but from what I heard it really depends. Animation jobs are gig based, it’s not a stable career you’ll be running around finding new jobs every few months. Most artists I know have a side job that they can lean onto when they’re in the middle of job hunting, either an Etsy shop or commissions. The pay depends on the studio you’re working for, if it’s a big company then they can pay you okay, it’s a big company at least they have policies and regulations. if it’s small production then it’s hard to say, many are too much work for too little pay.

The animation and gaming industry are not doing well either, so many experienced people are getting laid off lately leaving little chances for newbies it’s a burning dumpster of a industry and don’t even get me started with ai art … I don’t want to sound negative and kills someone’s hopes and dreams but it’s really not the best place to be at the moment, I don’t even know if I want to do animation in the future it’s kinda frustrating

I’ll leave the final decision to you ofc, I’m not saying don’t study art, just that you need to think this through, there are positives like you’re gonna learn so much new stuff to better your work, and you can do something you enjoy as a job, it’s so much better than spending your life doing something you don’t like. But there’re also negatives like it might kill your passion and a job is hard to find

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Nineteen

Maera had come to appreciate the new routine she had established in her life at the Red Keep. The early morning sparring sessions with Aemond, the quick return to her chambers for a change of clothing with the help of Thena, and then the rest of her day dedicated to assisting Queen Helaena in her various duties. Her days were a whirlwind of tasks, but Maera embraced them wholeheartedly. She stood by the queen's side through courtly affairs and diplomatic meetings, always ready with a reassuring smile or a whispered word of encouragement. Some days she would attend to the twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, whether the role be tutor or entertainer, her time with the children brought her immense enjoyment.

Aemond's absence during his duties in the Riverlands, quelling rumored rebellions and ensuring loyalty to the crown, became a recurring pattern. When he returned, Maera noted a slightly better mood about him, likely a reflection of his success in managing the realm's affairs. It was a welcome sight, even if their interactions remained punctuated by their shared history and the complex emotions they both harbored. Maera couldn't help but admire his dedication to his responsibilities, even if it meant sacrificing his own peace.

During his time away, Maera found herself missing his presence. Their time together, though centered around sparring, had rekindled some of their past camaraderie, and Maera appreciated the moments of connection she still shared with him, even if fleeting. She often pondered the fact that Aemond seemed to handle many of the duties that were typically expected of a king. Yet, Aegon, the reigning monarch, spent most of his days in revelry, indulging in drink and pleasures of the flesh. It was probably for the good of the realm that Aemond took on these responsibilities, Maera mused.

A recent role, assigned to Maera by Queen Alicent, involved overseeing the preparations for the upcoming Harvest Moon Ball, taking place in ten days. The women had been meticulously coordinating every detail together to ensure the event's success. Managing these affairs helped keep Maera focused and occupied, a necessary distraction from the continued deterioration of Queen Helaena's mental state. With the combined efforts of Queen Alicent, Maester Orwyle, and Maera herself, they managed to keep Helaena's fragile mental health under control. It was a delicate balance, one they maintained with great care, for the sake of the queen and the realm.

One day, as Maera supervised the delivery of Dahlias and Violas, flowers destined to adorn the grand hall for the upcoming event, a letter arrived at her chambers. The wax seal bore the emblem of House Wylde, and Maera's heart raced with anticipation. She eagerly tore open the letter, her eyes scanning the contents with a mixture of excitement and longing for her family's news.

Dearest Maera,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits amidst the splendor of the capital. It brings me great joy to inform you that our family is well, our fortunes ever favoring our endeavors. The days at Rain House pass with a tranquil swiftness, but a hole has been left in your absence, and we miss you deeply.

There have been some changes since your departure. Guston’s wife is with child for a third time, and he is hoping for another son. Dermot has written from Essos and tells me his travels are going well and does not intend to return to Rainwood any time soon. Our younger sisters, Brienna and Delfine have taken up an interest with the sword, just like you. At least we can get them into the courtyard, unlike Cedric, who remains cooped up in the library. I think he will ask father soon if he has his permission to join the citadel, like our three elder brothers.

I also must let you know that your presence in King's Landing has not gone unnoticed. Your closeness with Queen Helaena has allowed father to establish connections with many other Lords in Westeros. It is with a mixture of pride and bittersweet resignation that I convey to you that our Lord Father has found advantageous marriage pacts for two of our dear sisters.

Wynni has found herself betrothed to Lord Tarly. His house holds influence and respect, and it is with hopes for a prosperous future that this arrangement has been made. Sabine, our fiery spirit, is to be wed to Lord Tarbeck – a union that Father and Guston believe will forge alliances both unyielding and formidable.

I understand the weight of this news, Maera, and the shock it may elicit. But it is due to your hard work that such advantageous matches have been made, and I have been reassured by Guston that Wynni and Sabine’s intended husbands are kind souls of a similar age.

Though distance separates us, please know that your influence and guidance have not been in vain. Our hearts remain connected, and I eagerly await your response of stories from the capital.

Faran

Maera's breath caught in her throat as she read the final words of the letter. Her thoughts raced, a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions surging within her. Shock, disbelief, and a profound sense of loss mingled together, threatening to overwhelm her. She clutched the parchment tightly, as if seeking solace in the ink-stained words.

The news that her younger sisters, Wynni and Sabine, had been betrothed without her knowledge left her seething with rage. Lord Wylde had not only made her available for marriage but had also done the same for her beloved sisters. It was as if he considered them all mere bargaining chips in his quest for power, and Maera couldn't bear the thought of her sisters being treated that way. Feeling deceived and hurt, she couldn't hold back her anger any longer. She stormed into her father's chambers, her eyes blazing with fury. Lord Jasper looked up from his work, surprised by his daughter's sudden entrance.

"Father," Maera began, her voice carrying a tone of unwavering resolve, "I cannot remain silent on this matter. The betrothals you have arranged for Wynni and Sabine... they are far too young to be bound to such alliances."

Lord Jasper's gaze remained stern, his eyes cold and unyielding as they met his daughter's unwavering stare. "Maera," he responded curtly, his tone laced with an underlying frustration, "you underestimate the responsibilities and duties that come with our station. It is our duty as lords and ladies to secure alliances that will benefit our house."

Maera's hands clenched at her sides, her frustration mounting. "But they are children still, Father! They have never stepped foot outside of Rainwood. Sabine has just had her sixteenth name day, and Wynni cannot possibly understand the complexities of this world as a fifteen year old girl!”

Lord Jasper's gaze bore into Maera's, his voice sharp and unforgiving. "They have both flowered, Maera. It is time for them to take on the roles they were born into. It is a tradition that has been upheld for generations, and it is not for you to question."

A flash of anger ignited within Maera's eyes, her resolve strengthening. "I question the haste with which you seek to marry them off to lords in distant lands. Is their happiness not of any concern?"

Lord Jasper's face reddened with a mixture of anger and frustration. "Happiness, Maera, is often a luxury we cannot afford. Our duty to our house and our people must always come first. And speaking of duty, let us not forget your own. Had it not been for vile rumors tarnishing your virtue, you too would have been wed by now."

Maera's cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. The words struck a painful chord, a reminder of the rumors that had swirled around her name in King's Landing. She took a step back, her voice quivering with emotion. "Those rumors were baseless lies, Father, and you know it. I have dedicated myself to our house and our family's honor. But I cannot stand by and watch my sisters' lives dictated by politics and alliances."

Lord Jasper's eyes narrowed, his voice cutting like a blade. "I won’t sit here and tolerate your disrespect, Maera. You have no say in this matter. My decision is final."

The room fell silent, the weight of their confrontation hanging heavy in the air. Maera's breaths came quick and shallow, her heart pounding against her chest. With one last searing look, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the hall, her footsteps echoing through the corridors as she retreated from her father's presence.

Tears welled in her eyes, a mix of frustration, sadness, and a deep-seated determination to protect her sisters. But her father was right, it was their duty and as their elder sister, she had no say in the marriage pacts that were made. Like many women before them, their futures be dictated solely by the whims of tradition and politics.

Under the shade of the ancient Weirwood tree, with its crimson leaves and haunting carved face, Maera found a semblance of solace. The holy book, "The Seven-Pointed Star," translated into High Valyrian, lay open before her, its pages filled with intricate characters. Her eyes scanned the chapter of The Maiden, her lips silently forming the unfamiliar words. As she tried to immerse herself in the religious text, attempting to improve her grasp of the language, Maera hoped it would provide a welcome distraction from the turmoil within her. Her mother's necklace hung around her neck, a comforting presence against her skin, and she silently prayed to the gods that Lady Gael was watching over her and her siblings.

The footsteps approaching were unmistakable, and Maera recognized them as Aemond's. His presence, even without looking up, was as familiar to her as her own heartbeat, and she had grown more vigilant since their sparring sessions had resumed. Maera called out to him in High Valyrian, a hint of playful admonition in her voice. “Nyke daor hae nāqopsir naejot tyvagon nyeshka gō, dārilaros.” I'm not as easy to sneak up upon as before, my Prince

Aemond, dressed in black riding leathers, acknowledged her with a wry smile. His presence carried with it the subtle scent of dragon, a reminder of his recent return from the Riverlands. He leaned against the Weirwood tree, his arms crossed and his white hair cascading down his back in long, straight locks. His presence offered a welcome distraction from the overwhelming thoughts that had plagued her since reading Faran's letter.

“Skoro syt se raqagon jaes tembyr?” Why the sudden devotion to religious texts? Aemond inquired, genuine curiosity in his voice.

With a sigh, Maera held up the letter from her brother for him to read. It was a small act of trust, one that revealed her vulnerability in the midst of her turmoil. Aemond accepted it and read the contents, his expression unreadable.

"Well," he began, his tone measured, "your hard work in the capital has not gone unnoticed. These matches are a testament to that, particularly ones beyond the Stormlands. That's commendable.”

His words were meant to comfort, but they couldn't dispel the cloud of sadness that hung over Maera. Aemond returned the parchment to her hand before she could reply, her voice, tinged with sadness. "Nyke emagon qringōntan hāedars." I feel like I've failed my sisters.

His reply was measured and surprisingly understanding. "Skorkydoso sīr?" How so?

Maera closed her book, leaning against the Weirwood tree, her gaze averted from his so that Aemond couldn't see the tears that had crept into her eyes.

“Nyke se mandia,” I'm the eldest, she began, the words heavy with emotion. "Nyke yenka emagon issare idīntan ēlī . sytiotāpagon zirȳ va skorkydoso naejot sagon sȳz ābrazȳrys se muña. Y…” I should have been married first. So I could guide them, advise them on being good wives, good mothers, on how to navigate the wedding night. But instead I… Her words trailed off, alluding to matters unsaid.

Aemond didn't respond with his usual sarcasm or indifference. Instead, he listened attentively, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. After a thoughtful pause, he hummed softly before breaking the silence.

"Many women face this fate, my Lady. Duty often outweighs personal desires. You must do what is expected of you and fulfill your role."

His words struck a chord, and Maera couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. "And what about you, Aemond? You speak of duty, but I do not see your intended Baratheon bride here. You're free to pursue your own desires."

Aemond's expression remained unreadable as he regarded her. "My duties lie elsewhere, as do my ambitions. I may not be confined to a marriage, but that doesn't mean I'm free from the demands of my name, or my blood."

Maera absorbed his words, feeling a mix of emotions. His perspective offered a glimpse into his own struggles, ones that were different but just as significant. She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "I understand. It's just... difficult."

Aemond's voice held a rare gentleness. "I know it is. But you have the strength to navigate this path, and your sisters will need your support, Maera. Write to them, tell them you are genuinely pleased for them. Ease their fears, for they are likely more frightened for themselves than you are for them."

Maera nodded slowly, appreciating his unexpected empathy. Perhaps in this moment, despite their complicated past, she found a kindred spirit who understood the weight of expectations and duty. The prince extended his gloved hand downward towards her, silently offering her assistance with standing. As their fingers met, a subtle but electrifying sensation coursed through her. It was as if a spark had ignited between them, a sensation she hadn't anticipated. The heat in her cheeks grew as she rose to her feet, grateful for his support.

His hand lingered a moment longer than necessary before he released her, his fingers slipping away. He broke the spell with words, his voice holding a touch of sincerity that she wasn't accustomed to hearing from him. "You're a good sister, Maera. Not just to your own siblings, but to Helaena as well."

Maera met his gaze, her emotions a swirl of conflicting feelings. She nodded in acknowledgment, her voice slightly unsteady as she replied, "Thank you, my Prince. That means a lot."

He nodded, his expression inscrutable as he turned to walk away. Maera watched him go, the echoes of their conversation and the lingering touch of his hand creating a turmoil within her. She was left alone with her thoughts and the weight of her responsibilities, both to her family and to her duty at court.

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[shiny-kaibernyte]

May I request Mondo x Ultimate!Herbalist reader?

You are my first Danganronpa request... and you request my third favourite character. Congratulations! You are now my new favourite person random stranger! This ended up being a lot harder to write than i thought it would be. I went back and forth for ages on this. If there is anything you don't like let me know and i'll fix it.

Warnings: Mentions of blood / Takes place during the killing game / Swearing. You know just Mondo being Mondo

Mint Leaves | Mondo x Ultimate Herbalist (Reader)

“Dammit…” An almost silent curse left Mondo’s throat. All he could see in his vision was the annoyingly bright red lights of the dormitory hallway, and a door. This singular cursed door he just couldn’t seem to do anything with. Just staring at it, almost afraid to even touch the door. “Come on… be a man and just knock. Not that hard!” 

And yet, he didn’t move, the staring only continuing. If the door had eyes, Mondo would be winning this staring contest.

“Ugh this is fucking stupid!” Mondo’s voice echoed loudly throughout the empty hallway, throwing his head back in defeat. The door had won this round. “It’s a damn door! So why can’t I just knock!?”

“As much as I enjoy hearing you howling like a wounded cub. Some of us are trying to sleep.” An almost snake-like voice yanked Mondo back to reality, snapping his neck to the side irritated. Togami… The definition of an annoying rich boy who thinks he’s better than everyone. 

Mondo’s eye twitched as his lip turned into a snarl, staring down at the Ultimate Affluent Progeny. Togami wasn’t close by, merely standing outside his door, arms crossed with a raised eyebrow. Which only angered the Biker even more. “The hell you say to me? You trying to start something rich boy!?”

“Hm… It’s certainly amusing to watch you bang your chest like a caged monkey.” A smirk crosses Togami’s face as he adjusts his glasses, moving a hand to his hip as the other gestures to the floor by Mondo’s feet. “However, you're getting blood on the floor. If you aren't going to knock on the door. At least clean up after yourself before you scare the poor thing.”

Blinking in confusion, Mondo stared down at his feet only to realise a small pool of blood no bigger than his foot had appeared courtesy of the giant gash on his palm. That was why he was here, standing outside your door and now being berated by Togami. A defeated sigh left Mondo’s lips as a satisfied hum left Togami’s, followed by the sound of footsteps. “The hell you doing!?”

“Relax will you!” Togami snapped now standing next to Mondo, an arm reaching out towards him. Before Mondo had a chance to either hit or step back from Togami. The sound of knocking filled the Bikers ears like a wave. “I’m doing what you seem to be to chicken to do. Now hurry this along and let the rest of us sleep in peace.”

Staring blankly at Togami, mouth agape as he watched the rich boy quickly flee, a trail of dust behind him as he ducked into his room seemingly not wanting to be seen. If he wasn’t so calm about it, perhaps it would have been funny.

“Mondo?” Now it was your turn to snap Mondo out of his trance. His face turned bright red as if caught doing something bad, he couldn't even muster up anything more than a nervous stammer before you noticed how he was holding his hand. “What happened! You’re bleeding!” “I shouldn’t be here! Ignore you saw me yeah!?” Making an escape attempt, Mondo spun on his heel and attempted to follow Togami’s escape plan only to find himself being Yanked into your room. Surprisingly he didn’t lose his balance and stayed up right.

“I said let me look. I can’t have you bleeding on the floor now can i?” You respond sternly, letting go of his coat which you used to yank him back. Pointing down at the puddle of blood outside your door. “You were outside my door for a reason so please, let me at least look at it.”

Looking at your face, he found it impossible to say no. The glow of hope in your eye, the almost pleading pout made him want to yell. As much as he hated getting help from others, he couldn’t say no. So with a hesitant grumble of defeat he let you take his hand in yours. The moment you grabbed his wounded hand, his head snapped to the side, unable to look at you anymore. Mondo was ashamed of himself for seeking your help, he shouldn’t be relying on you to help him. It should be the other way around, right?

“How did you even do this? It's so deep… clean though which is good.” You mumbled to yourself, examining the cut on Mondo’s hand, it didn’t look like a knife gash. You would need to wrap this quickly. Sure it was a clean wound but that didn’t mean it wouldn't get infected regardless. “Come, sit down, let me wrap this.”

“You don’t need to do that. I can do it.” Mondo hastily replied, pulling his hand away from you. 

“Stop being so stubborn! Sit down and be quiet, let me take care of you!” You snap, arms wrapping around his arm to pull him towards your bed. Despite saying he didn’t want your help, he was quick to move with you, even letting you sit him down on the edge of your bed. “Hold on i should have something around here somewhere”

Leaving Mondo sitting on your bed, you swiftly make your way to a bag on the floor, digging through it carefully. Mondo’s eyes carefully examining you, a soft smile warming his face, unable to stop the admiration from shining in his eyes. He really did have a soft spot for you, maybe that's why Fujisaki kept always trying to push him towards you. Or the fact Ishimaru would always try and weave you into whatever they were talking about, only to leave both of you alone.

“Found it!” With a yell of victory, you pulled out a small jar and a white box from your bag. “I was a little worried i didn't grab any of this stuff from the garden and hospital room! Can I see your hand again?”

“Hold it! Hell is that?” Mondo had already returned to his usual stoic look when you turned around to approach him again. He had risen to his feet once he saw what you were holding. The small jar had some kind of orange fauna in, whilst the box had a somewhat spiky looking plant and some fluffy looking leaves.

Dragging him by the arm, you force him back down on the edge of the bed. “These are going to help you. I'm no fool Mondo, I know you won’t go to the Nurse's office upstairs no matter what anyone says. So you get me instead. I may not be able to cure disease but I can stop infection and skin irritations. So shush and let me see your hand.”

“You ca-”

“Shush” 

Promptly shushing. Mondo finally lets you dot on him, holding out his hand for you. A smile of victory briefly flashes on your face before turning to one of focus. Mondo’s returning to his secret but not secret soft smile. Time flew by as you worked carefully to treat the gash on his hand, using the Aloe Vera gel to help with disinfecting the wound, cleaning up any extra little dirt that may have been left behind. It was cold surprisingly tingly, causing Mondo’s hand to tense a few. Not once did he pull his hand away, more flexing into your touch than away, giving you all the motivation to keep going. 

Once you’d made sure the wound was evenly covered and cleaned, you reached for the jar and took out a small amount of Calendula petals, spreading them gently and carefully around the edge of the cut. Carefully covering the orange petals with a tiny amount of aloe Vera, before you reached for the more fluffy looking herb. Lamb's ear, nature's bandage. 

You carefully wrap the hand using a combination of the herb and some actual bandages you’d raided from the nurses office. “That should do it. Is it to lose? Too tight?”

“It’s fine… thanks.” Mondo nods, adjusting his grip as he admires your handiwork. “That herbalist stuff of yours… really is something else huh. I don’t understand a thing you did but I ain't gonna lie. My hand does feel good, I can't even tell there's anything wrong.”

“Good! Make sure to have someone change the bandage every few days, or if you're confident I'm sure you can figure it out yourself.” You tease, poking his nose briefly before placing your remedies back into your bag. Mondo’s face painted a lovely shade of red once more causing you to burst out laughing when you noticed.

“Hell you laughing at!” Mondo snapped, the embarrassment only made things worse and your laughter progress.You had never seen him break composure so many times in one night before so for him to turn into a tomato from a single tap made you break your own composure. Seems your laughter was contagious, as soon enough Mondo found himself chuckling alongside you. How did this night go from him being too chicken to knock on your door. To now the pair of you leaning into each other, laughing over a single poke. This certainly will be a memory Mondo will never forget.

[kozykricket]

havent been very active on tumblr, for no reason in particular. anyways, as a risk of rain fan, i must clarify my opinions on the SOTS release

i think we can all agree on "the dlc is great content"

but anyways, its clear to me that the devs are people who care and are passionate about ROR as a series and about keeping ror2 going as well. i mean, hopoo and ghor have said as much! and their community manager seems nice i really dont blame the actual DLC team, because like. its always rude to just point fingers at the people who are just doin' darn good work. point fingers at the executive decision makers i think uh, the unification of console and pc code is... well, ill miss the old codebase, but honestly? the fact they've rewritten the games code from the ground up basically... tells me that they're in it for the long-ish haul. that they dont want to just drop ror2. they want to make their own basis that they can cleanly work on and continue this game into its second life of sorts i guess its like a soft reset of development - everythings jank like early access now. but itll get better is the current ror team the best at making decisions for the game? maybe not, but i really dont think they're malicious

its funny though, because the 2 things i was worried about was "oh gearbox is totally gonna mess up the lore with weird inconsistencies and it wont feel right, and they'll add powercreep" but honestly. imma be real, knowing some stuff ghor has said about his intentions behind the lore (shoutouts to Ghor btw, hes done so much for both the lore and the... well, the creation and foundation of risk of rain 2s codebase as a whole. the more i look into ghor, the more i realize he truly is mr ror2) anyways knowing his intentions with certain things, i can say... the Anniversary Update and SOTV actually messed up lore more than SOTS has, lol. the lores well done in SOTV. the non-lore-important logs kinda suck though, they're clearly unfinished. but i think... what they lacked was Time. Time, to complete the clean unification of code ... and for general polish. so i say we give them what randy pitchfork didnt. lets give them time, aight? im not super happy with the idea of a ror2: bedrock edition future, but... i think if the right balancing tweaks are done, then things can look pretty bright. and they do seem to want to listen to the community (though i doubt randy pitchfork wants them to. heck CEOs)

and as for powercreep? lmao we got the opposite, the items are almost too underpowered.

AS for the dlc content, i think seeker is goated. really fun character to play. chef is... undercooked tbh, jank m1. still havent gotten the third survivor, though i know who it is, and seems pretty well done minus the lack of visual and audio feedback / game-feel i think the stages are fantastic, the music is as always banger, and honestly the items are like. really CLOSE to being interesting. like noxious thorn? a green item that plays with debuffs? very cool. but why is it "on taking damage" and. i dunno, instead of adding more stacks of debuffs, i'd make it spread those debuffs to more enemies! knockback fin should be turned into a void of stun grenade if you have both DLCs on, tbh. so yeah, im. cautiously optimistic for the future. dont fall for all of the doomerisms that the youtubers are trying to spread - they're doing that to apply pressure to gearbox, mostly. which is fair, but its also fearmongering kinda. and like actual devs dont seem too concerned for the games future im just hoping that everyone who has been involved with ror2... has a good future. i dont want gearbox to just cut off the ror2 team, and i hope ghor can find whatever he needs

[pigeonwhumps]

Christmas

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @fuckcapitalismasshole @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

In medical training, Aaron tries to protect Joseph in what's possibly the worst way. Joseph is not happy.

Joseph belongs to @i-eat-worlds. Mention of the Pride Knights playing cards by @/prideknights.

2.9k

CWs: burns, power blocking, brief mention of past transphobia, fake medical stuff, emeto, past minor whump

It's Christmas Eve when Aaron finally finds the cuffs.

He's cleaning out an old storage cupboard in the HAL training centre, because someone needs to do it and also because he has his suspicions, and lo and behold there they are. The cuffs they need.

Their powers are getting stronger the more they use them, and they can't, they won't, hurt Joseph. They need to use their healing powers. But it's the Christmas holidays and he doesn't need his electrokinesis anyway.

He finishes the cupboard hurriedly and puts the cuffs in a pocket. He needs to find a bathroom, and there's one just down the corridor, which he barricades himself inside.

They pull out the cuffs with trembling hands and sit down on the toilet, trying to steady themself. They need to do this. It's the only way to stop them hurting Joseph.

But that doesn't mean it's going to be pleasant. It's not just the cuffs themselves, it's the memories, the staff with cold eyes boring into him, implacable as he asked them not to do this, not to make him so cold and burning and empty and hurting.

They seem to be moving in slow motion. The first one isn't too bad on its own. It makes them shiver, but it's okay. They can handle it easily, they're used to that feeling.

And then they snap the second one shut around their other wrist.

They feel empty all of a sudden. Something's gone, something integral, something that's been a part of them for so long they don't really know how to be without it. It's been years since they left school, after all.

The good thing about an oversized Christmas jumper is that it hides the cuffs when they pull the sleeves down, and they do so, hoping Joseph doesn't get suspicious. He shouldn't.

He almost falls over as he stands up. Woah. Did his balance really used to go like that when he wore the cuffs before? His stomach churns.

Back they go, back to the flat they share with Joseph. The world seems duller and more overwhelming at the same time, now, and the emptiness is turning into an aching burn.

He enters the largish studio flat, where Joseph's already sorting out his own bed. He turns around and smiles when he sees who it is.

"Thought you weren't coming. I've made you hot chocolate. It's still warm and everything."

"Thank you." Aaron's not sure he's up to drinking it right now but he takes the mug anyway, dropping onto the bed and warming his suddenly-cold hands on it.

Joseph frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little tired. Cleaning that cupboard was really boring," Aaron lies.

Well. It's not quite a lie. The cupboard was boring. But most of the problem is the cuffs sapping his energy.

"Happy Christmas Eve. Did you want to play those games?"

"Yes, but not if you're not feeling great." Joseph's brow is crinkled in concern, and it occurs to Aaron that maybe he doesn't entirely believe them.

"I want to. Might make me feel better anyway."

"Knew it." Joseph pulls a colourful box off the shelf and holds it up. "Snakes and Ladders to warm up?"

"Sure, why not."

_

Aaron falls asleep as Joseph is preparing their third game of Cards Against Humanity. Just conks out right on the floor.

His dreams are confusing and strange, nightmarish in a way that makes him jerk awake, heart pounding, never wanting to sleep again.

Wait. Didn't he fall asleep on the floor? That's the last thing he remembers. What's he doing tucked up in bed?

Oh. Oh fuck. Did Joseph see? Did he–

No. No. They're still wearing their jumper. That makes it very unlikely. They hope, anyway.

They turn, looking over at Joseph, and a wave of nausea washes over them. They throw themself out of bed and dash to the bathroom, leaning over the sink to splash cold water over their face.

Oh god. Oh god. They feel cold, and hot, and hollow, and burning, burning, burning, nauseous but they can't throw up.

They press their forehead against the cold white ceramic of the sink. Their wrists. Their wrists. Surely a small break would be okay? They don't know what time it is but it's got to be early, Joseph isn't awake. Just five minutes.

Luckily the cuffs aren't locked, because his hands are shaking and he'd never unlock them without help.

He shoves them in his pocket.

His insides warm, filling with that intrisic part of him that was previously blocked, and... and the nausea's unlocked too.

He bends over the sink, retching, vomiting up what little's in his stomach until he's dry-retching. It feels like an eternity until he's able to stop.

"I didn't realise you were this ill," says a quiet voice behind them. They spin around and wobble, falling into the person's arms.

Pale skin... short brown hair... strong arms...

"Joseph?"

"Yeah, it's me. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Mmm. I'll fetch you some clean clothes. Do you want to clean yourself up a bit?"

Now Joseph mentions it, he notices the clammy stickiness everywhere. He nods.

"I'll be right back."

Aaron doesn't think he has the strength to stand in the shower. He wets a flannel with blissfully cold water and presses it to his forehead.

Oh. Oh, that's so much better. He wipes the rest of his body carefully, trying to ignore the pain in his wrists as he touches them. It's... nice, to cool down like this.

There's a knock at the door, and Aaron wraps a towel around himself before opening it. Joseph's left a pair of pyjamas outside, soft and short sleeved, with a fleece-lined jumper and underwear. Aaron picks them up, shuts the door again and puts them on.

That's better. They feel more like a person again now.

Whoever put them on their bed last night (because they're lucid and awake enough now to realise it must've been a person, probably Joseph) was thoughtful enough to put their hair in a silk wrap. So it's probably not too bad. They put their glasses on and blink a few times as everything becomes clearer.

Joseph is waiting to one side of the bathroom, unnoticed earlier, and gives Aaron a small smile.

"Feeling any better?"

Aaron nods. His head swims. Best not to do that for a while then.

"How did you find me?"

Joseph shrugs. "You'd vanished. You were ill last night, and the door was unlocked, the sounds of vomiting inside. It wasn't hard to deduce. Like you'd be up and about yet anyway, unless it was an emergency. Merry Christmas, I guess."

"Merry Christmas."

Joseph hands Aaron a tablet and a glass of squash. "Something to settle your stomach, and squash to take away the taste."

"Thanks."

"It's no problem, honestly." Aaron slumps back on his bed, noticing vaguely that Joseph seems to have changed the sheets and why is he so thoughtful anyway? It's warm in here, and they absently roll up their sleeves. "You're my friend, and ill. I'd be a poor medic if I didn't help. I have a present if you're up to opening it, let me just put this on your forehead, and– are those fresh burns on your wrists?"

Joseph says the last part with such force that Aaron flinches, rolling down his jumper hurriedly as if by doing that he can make Joseph forget the evidence of his lack of stamina. He shakes his head. Joseph raises an eyebrow. He looks away, ashamed.

"Dammit, Aaron. What the hell did you do with the cuffs?"

"Trouser pocket," he murmurs, biting his lip. Joseph picks them up and digs around until he finds them, then throws them across the room in disgust.

"Where did you even get them?"

"Old storage cupboard."

Joseph nods, looking unhappy. "Makes sense. But they should've got rid of them all years ago, the effects are well-known." He fetches the first aid kit, spreading it out on the bed. "Give me your wrist."

Aaron holds one out, and Joseph starts wrapping a clean bandage around it. After a moment, he says quietly, "Why?"

"My powers have been getting stronger. And the stronger they are, the more likely they are to get out of control, and I don't want to hurt you. These are the only things that make it better, and I– I don't care if it hurts, if it makes me feel ill, I don't care, as long as you're safe."

"They are not the only thing that works."

"But in school–"

"In school you were an untrained kid, and the staff slapped cuffs on you because they didn't care and didn't want to bother with referring you for training or anything else that might've actually helped," says Joseph tightly. "You do not need to severely injure yourself to control your powers. Other wrist."

Aaron holds it out. "What else is there?"

"Training. You've already had some. They're like a muscle, and now you're using your powers they'll be easier to control anyway. Please, Aaron. I don't want you getting permanent damage on my behalf, from something you don't even need. The cuffs have probably already made your control worse, from the excessive childhood use."

"What– how do you know–"

"Pat," Joseph says, simply but sadly. "Also, in the last chapter of our textbook it talks about the dangers. Must be a recent addition."

Aaron swallows. "Can you... will you read it to me?" They don't think they can do that themself right now.

"Sure."

Aaron slumps back as Joseph fetches his textbook. The burns hurt. The bandages aren't tight but even so.

He still thinks the cuffs would've been safer.

"Okay. Here we go. Ready?" Aaron nods. "Right. Power-restricting cuffs are a traditional way of blocking a patient's powers if they reach a point where they're dangerous to themself or others, however recent research has changed academic views on that. Most doctors believe that they should no longer be used in any circumstances due to the effects. In the short-term, these can include burns, nausea, fever, fatigue, seizures, overwhelm, and a feeling of emptiness and dullness. Long-term usage can cause these same effects to be exaggerated into chronic illnesses or disabilities even when the cuffs are removed, as well as mental illnesses such as depression, and making the patient's powers less predictable and harder to control.

"The effects of the cuffs varies based on the root of the patient's powers. For example... hang on... ah, here. For example, humourous-based powers, most commonly exhibited in healing form, are more likely to cause fevers and confusion, whereas... nosebleeds and severe burns are more likely to be caused by energy-based powers. For all patients, the higher the strength of their powers, the worse the effects of the cuffs."

"Wait."

Aaron pushes himself up and rubs his eyes. Joseph frowns.

"Yeah?"

"Stop. Stop. I can barely understand a word."

"Confusion's still getting to you then. Shall we do presents and Christmas pizza, and you can try again later if you like? Or another day, if you promise not to try and use the cuffs."

"Promise."

Aaron reaches under the bed to pull out their presents and almost throws up again. Joseph hauls them back upright and shoves one of those cardboard hat-like things under their mouth.

"'m okay. But thanks. Sorry for ruining Christmas."

"You haven't, I promise." Aaron makes a sceptical noise, and Joseph finishes ordering their planned pizza order (it's a lot) before chucking his phone down and coming over, two presents in hand. "I promise. And I always mean my promises." He brushes against Aaron's wrist as he sits down and they wince. His face turns a little harder. "Could you write me a list of everyone who made you think the cuffs were the best and only option? For academic purposes."

Aaron coughs out a laugh. "There's a lot of them. Anyway, it's okay, we settled in the court case. That's how I manage to afford half the things I do, and how I got in here – I didn't pass by nearly enough but they saw that, I think. It's fine. It's over now. You don't have to do whatever you were planning, they had consequences anyway." And they still don't think they were wrong to use the cuffs, but that's an argument for another day.

"It might be over, but it's not okay. It should never have happened in the first place. You were just a child."

Aaron swallows. He needed the cuffs, but it's true, to an extent. They were a child who no-one ever explained anything to. And there was discrimination going on, they know it, or they wouldn't have ended up sharing with Sophia (not that they disliked that specific effect exactly, but she is a girl and the dorms were meant to be single sex).

He still needs the cuffs, though.

"Presents?"

"Sure. Two each, perfect. We'll alternate."

Aaron passes a present over before Joseph can object. "Merry Christmas."

It's a fairly thin rectangle with a small square on top, and Joseph peels the tape off curiously.

Once he sees what it is, he looks up at Aaron, grinning, eyes bright and shining. "How did you know?"

"I saw you looking at the Kickstarter. You looked sort of sad that you couldn't afford them, and I still have settlement money left, so I thought why not?"

"And you– you got me a framed print of the trans card. Thank you."

"Well. I mean. Queer playing cards are nicer to play with than ordinary ones, right?"

"Right." He wipes his eyes. "You're making me feel outdone."

"I'm sure you're not." They take the large, light, lumpy package and tear off the paper.

It's a very large, very fluffy, deep blue blanket. Aaron wraps it tightly around himself, hugging it. It's so soft.

"I take it you like it then?"

Aaron nods, then remembers why he wasn't doing that as their head swims. "Thank you. I... you'll need to pick yours up."

"Okay." He frowns a little at Aaron and opens the parcel carefully. "It's... Aaron, oh my god." His laughter is a little choked. "This is... I didn't know these even existed."

"Is it okay? I was worried it might be a bit insensitive, but you were a bit insecure and I thought– maybe..."

"It's perfect. You're perfect. At buying presents, I mean. I... Aaron, I love it."

A weight lifts from Aaron's chest. They were very worried Joseph would find a toy testosterone hormone bad taste, because just because Aaron's trans and would like it doesn't mean Joseph's the same, but it turns out the worry was for nothing.

"You're way better at buying presents than I am, but here you go."

Inside the paper is a mug that changes when the temperature changes. According to the outside of the box, a TARDIS appears in the starry sky pattern when it's hot. And it's glow-in-the-dark too.

He opens the box, more careful than with the wrapping paper.

Joseph appears to have carefully unsealed the box, placed a marshmallow-filled hot chocolate bomb inside the mug, and resealed it. It's impressive. He smiles.

"Thank you. I'm going to try it out."

"Yeah, but you're going to let me make it. I'll get you a chair and you can watch the hot chocolate bomb melt."

Aaron nods, letting Joseph help him over to the countertop. They very rarely actually sit here, so a chair has to be fetched (and they rarely sit in those, either).

"Why is it so much worse today?" murmurs Aaron, as Joseph heats the milk. "It wasn't so bad when I was a kid."

Joseph's knuckles go white on the handle of the mug. "You hadn't used your powers so much then, I think. They've grown as you've used them, and so has the severity of the cuffs' side effects. At least you're not bad enough to have seizures. Right?"

"Right."

"I'm going to give them to a friend to destroy later. Please don't go looking for a new pair and hurt yourself further."

Aaron's not sure how to answer, watching the hot chocolate bomb bubble and melt instead. The mini marshmallows look very tasty. He's not going to have whipped cream today, he doesn't think.

"Aaron. Promise me."

"I promise."

Joseph nods firmly. "You'd better stick to that."

Afterwards, they eat most of the Christmas pizza order sprawled out on cushions and duvets on the floor, and play a few card games with Joseph's new cards (the present wasn't entirely selfless). Then Joseph boots up his laptop and they both climb onto his bed, Aaron wrapping their new blanket around Joseph too.

"Since you're hurt, you get first choice."

"The Muppet's Christmas Carol?" asks Aaron hopefully. He's in the mood for a light-hearted musical. Which is odd when the original isn't at all.

"Sure," smiles Joseph, loading it. Aaron leans on his shoulder to watch.

They make it as far as the Marley song, both of them singing along, before their eyes start to droop. They try to open them again but they just can't.

The last thing they hear before drifting off is Joseph's low chuckle.

[swallowedbyfandom]

Kate,

Dealing with Bridgerton's in my experience is a balancing act of outright denial,alcoholism, and regret. I do not believe you are in a position to indulging my brand of escapism. Here is a list of tips I have found most helpful.

1.Denial, denial, denial. Whenever the family starts displaying overt signs of Bridgertonness, I ignore it. It is best to assume everything a Bridgerton does can and will be used against them in a court of law. If I did not see it, I cannot give testimony about it. Simple. ie: Sometimes that means turning your head away when it looks like your Duchess is going to tackle and bite your best friend during a game of Pall Mall.

2.Avoidance. Any gathering of three or more Bridgerton's will get out of hand. Avoid their gatherings whenever possible. If you are engaged with two and a third joins up, flee. Using the chamber pot is a reliable excuse. Just remember to always be seen with a beverage in hand so they don't catch on. Perhaps you can use nursing as an excuse.

3.Redirection. When your Bridgeton has a marvelous idea, distract them. It can be with anything, seduction has the highest success rate. If your Bridgertons are in the middle of scandalous behavior, distract the witnesses. Learn to spin the truth the way Penelope does. That woman has single handedly indoctrinated the whole of society into believing Colin Bridgerton is sweet and harmless. She has a gift.

4.Lie. When outsiders notice our family's utter absurdity, lie to them. Learn to lie with your face, your voice, your body. You stare down whoever accused your Bridgertons as if they are the abnormal one. Make them question reality. Make them ashamed of having so obviously misunderstood the situation. This takes time to master but it is effective.

5.Assessment. Sometimes your Bridgertons cannot be deterred, in such instances it may behove you to engage them in lesser shenanigans. That way you control the when and where.

6.Acceptance. I know this will sound like defeatism, but sometimes Bridgertons will be Bridgertons. When your Bridgerton or Bridgertons on your case, set out to accomplish a task ask yourself these questions. What is the most asinine way to accomplish this task? What way would be the most scandalous? What would a clowder of feral cats do? The answer to those questions, will help you predict your Bridgertons. Accept it and plan to mitigated the disaster to come.

7.Drink. When all else fails and you find yourself dragged kicking and screaming into the shite show of the week. Drink. I have found whiskey pairs best with regret.

I hope this helps you.

Fondly,

Simon

Simon,

Please tell me this was an attempt at that dry British humor I fail to understand. I did not sign up to play warden for Bedlam. Your tips were not reassuring, at all.

Horrified,

Kate

Kate,

I apologize I did not know you were looking for reassurance. No one comes to me for comfort. Let me try again.

Kate based on your response you will have no trouble with step one. Also, if you ever want to flee the country your sister is a Princess. Surely she would grant you asylum.

Good luck,

Simon

Simon,

The sarcasm was completely unnecessary.

Kate

Kate,

Look at you mastering steps two and four. I am so proud of you! Sarcasm is my primary manner of self expression. How dare you shame me for it. I expected better from the Viscountess Bridgerton.

Fondly,

Simon

[plaindangan]

Jabberwock Survival - Update!

Below

“Attention!! Attention!! To all survivors!!!” Coming from the intercoms all around Jabberwock Island was MKC, voice sounding both playful and irritated.

“Puhuhuhuhu!!! So…you bastards made it to October 7th, huh? Good for you…kinda. Not so good for me who wanted to see some really monster fucking action, though!!! All this time and only of you guys getting infected is simply unacceptable!!!!!!”

“...Buuuut, I suppose that’s what I get for starting you bastards off on easy mode!!! No more Mrs. Nice Ass!!! Things are gonna heat up from here!!! And that all starts with this: The Third Island has been unlocked!!! Try to survive there, strip it for all it’s worth, go nuts…”

“Though, there is something special going on inside of the Hospital. Ya know, the WORST place to go in a zombie apocalypse - yeah, I left a bit of a surprise there that can help some of you bitches out who are struggling!! Of course, if you’re feeling a bit like a scaredy-bitch and don’t wanna risk it, I’ve also prepped something on the beaches of the First Island and Second Island. Tents you can’t miss, so take a look at them!!! Or, well, not, this is all just optional stuff you don’t have to get. Also, for the sake of game balance, only one team at a time can enter these places of interest. If you wanna get a crack at the goodies, better hope you get there first and win!!! If not, better pray the first team gives up or becomes apart of the undead~”

“....Hmm…anything else I forgot to mention…oh! Oh, yeah, right. Yadda yadda, some people are working for me. Yadda yadda, got some Saboteurs. Yadda, I gave them the a-okay to be a bit more active than before. Who they are you might be able to guess for a few, but the point is good luck trying to deal with those guys and the Ghouls after ya!”

“Toodles~ I'll be back on the 12th!!!"

-

Point of Notice:

The Third Island is now unlocked, and with it, something's going down in the Hospital.

The First Island Beach and Chandler Beach also have huts with their own thing going on in them.

Only one team at a time can enter the structure of notice above, with others only able to get in via the prior team’s defeat or retreat. 

MKC has Saboteurs. These Saboteurs essentially increase the odds of a muse being worse off for wear from a ghoul attack. Taking them out might be the key for survival, if you can find them~

Oct 12th is when the next island will be unlocked!

Hope this event has been enjoyable so far!!

[hugsandchaos]

@leefl00f, I’m finally done!!! I’m so happy!! I hope I did good making the third part!!

Doll picked up the old plushie and lightly shook it to get some dust off. She couldn’t see much because of the dirt, but she could tell it was once pink with blue eyes and a black mouth shaped like a sideways three. It had two slightly pointed stubs to the side like arms and two stubs that were a bit bigger than the arms and a darker shade of pink than the rest of it. She turned her head to where Uzi was fixing the lights with two tables stacked on top of each other as a step-stool to reach the high ceiling.”Узи, посмотри на это. Это напоминает мне те старые аниме, которые тебе нравятся.” (Uzi, look at this. It reminds me of those old animes you like.) Doll said. Uzi briefly glanced at her, then looked back at the lights.”One sec, I just gotta... Finally!” Uzi said.

She pulled her arms down and sighed in relief before turning around. She hopped down off the tables and landed without hurting herself. Using her absolute solver, Uzi flipped the light switch and turned it on. The light wasn’t perfect, but it lit up the hallway fairly easily and buzzed with electricity running through. Uzi walked over to her and saw what was in her hands.”Oh, I think that’s Kirby. I’m pretty sure he’s actually from an old game or something?” She said, sounding a little uncertain at the end. Doll held it out for her to take and Uzi glared.”What am I, a kid?” She asked. Doll gave her an unamused look.

After a few seconds, Uzi took the Kirby plushie from her hands and hugged it, still glaring at her cousin. Doll smiled a bit as Uzi turned to their small separate piles for the things they found while cleaning and were hoping to keep.”Maybe a little.” Uzi mumbled as she set the plushie down. Doll looked at the rest of the room. Now that the light was fixed, they could properly see just how much of a mess the place really was. If Lizzy was there, she’d freak out and demand to know where the cleaning supplies were. They had been working for 20 minutes already, and it still looked nasty, but it’d be worth it. Besides, they volunteered for this to help Alice. And to find cool stuff to keep. Doll picked up the nearby broom and began using it to get a bunch of dust up off the floor and into one pile while Uzi peaked outside the room into the hallway they came in from.”Think I should fix the other lights?” She asked, without glancing back at Doll. She didn’t want her cousin to feel like she was trying to slack off on the chores, but she really didn’t want to have to use her phone or tail to light her way the whole time. Doll didn’t look up either as she spoke.”Да, это очень помогает.” (Yes, it helps a lot.) She said. Uzi left the room and walked into the hall to start working on the lights.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Uzi was finally done, she could see the hall so much better now. The place was covered in dust and dirt, and it looked terrible, but at least she wouldn’t trip over anything. Down the hall, she could see an elevator that she hadn’t noticed before. The doors were open and surprisingly didn’t appear broken unlike the majority of the other doors in the hall leading to different rooms. Without much of a second thought, she began walking over to it. She crossed the hall pretty quickly and took a step inside. The metal door creaked as Uzi held it for some extra balance. She walked into the elevator and looked at the buttons that go up or down. She glanced up above the doorway and saw that the floor they were currently on was floor 11, but the buttons went to 12. Out of curiosity, and not really expecting it to actually work, she pressed “12”. Unexpectedly, the elevator suddenly came to life and the doors began to close. Down the hall, Doll was alerted by the sudden noise and peeked out of the room to see the elevator doors close with Uzi inside.

“Узи!!” (Uzi!!) She called out. Doll was suddenly overcome with fear that her little cousin had just got herself into a really bad situation that she might not be able to get out of. She sprinted down the hall, but was still too slow to stop the elevator’s descent. When she got to the end, she pressed the “up” arrow buttons and waited.

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By the time the elevator was back, Doll had calmed down a little and reminded herself that even though she’s short, Uzi can handle herself pretty well and is probably okay. Still, she went anyways and guessed 12 since they’ve technically been on the other floors. At the bottom, she had to use her phone as a flashlight and held it to light up the otherwise pitch black hall.“Узи?!” Doll called out as she walked down the hall, looking left and right for any rooms, but not finding any. Her voice echoed through the hall, but there was no other answer. She began to worry more again, and while she didn’t want to doubt her cousin’s ability to protect herself, she’d never forgive herself if she wasn’t fast enough. She picked up the pace to a jog, her footsteps echoing through the hall as she ventured deeper. There were more things left from before the collapse that she had to maneuver around, like knocked over tables, scattered surgery tools, and even a door that was barely hanging onto the doorway by its remaining hinge.

Doll jogged around it and soon began to notice something strange on the walls. There were weird pink, feathery... things. They kind of looked like vines from the pictures Alice had shown her and Uzi, but those were different. They were from Earth and were green, and looked a little smooth. Not pink and fluffy. She ignored them and continued running, but couldn’t help but feel like she was getting closer to something the deeper she went. The vines grew bigger, and more and more appeared.”Узи!!” She shouted.

Suddenly, something wrapped around her waist and belly from behind and made her stop jogging. Doll dropped her phone, but one of the pink vines shot out from against the wall to grab it before it hit the floor. The light was pressed against the vine, so Doll couldn’t see much anymore. She grabbed onto whatever was holding her and felt soft feathers against her hands. It was one of the vines. She began trying to pry the plant off while using her legs to push herself forward, but the vine didn’t budge. When she tried the absolute solver, however, Doll still found herself unable to escape.”Отпусти меня!!” (Let me go!!) She yelled. The vine didn’t listen. In fact, it lifted her up off the ground and began to pull her deeper into the hall. The light of her phone soon left her vision and she could no longer see where she was going as she struggled against the vines.

Suddenly, Doll heard something. It was growing louder, like the vibe was pulling her towards it. It sounded like Uzi struggling and... laughing? She wasn’t sure at first since it didn’t make much sense given the situation, but a small part of her mind was reminded of their tickle fights. It sounded a lot like her during those fights. Suddenly, Doll was pulled into a bright room. The sudden change in light made her groan and briefly close her eyes, but now her audio receptors were 100% positive that Uzi was laughing.

“Knohohock ihihit off! Hehey!” She said through her laughter. When Doll opened her eyes again, she could see that the room was rather clean, especially compared to the mess that she and her cousin were working on earlier. It was almost a sight for sore eyes, except there were more of those weird vines. Small ones, big ones, and every size in between were almost scattered across the room. The biggest ones were hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room, and from what she could tell, Uzi was up there. The vine holding Doll lifted her up and she could see that Uzi was indeed there, but instead of being hurt like she had feared, the vines were tickling her. A medium sized one had a grip on one of her arms and held it away from her upper body, leaving her with only one arm to protect herself against the vines poking at her sides and exposed underarm. She tried repeatedly to push or swat them away.”Hahahahaha! Stohohohohop!” She said. Doll was lowered into the sort of platform made from the vines and Uzi noticed her.”Doholl?! You gohohohot cahaught?!” She asked, as if she was expecting Doll to be able to get her out of there.

More small vines crept through the tiny spaces between the bigger vines making the platform to poke at Doll. She swatted her hands at them and tried backing away from them.”Ой, заткнись, тебя тоже поймали!” (Oh, shut up, you got caught too!) Doll said. A big vine reached down from the ceiling to grab her legs and pull her closer into the nest. Despite how strong she was, the vines were stronger and caught her off guard. When she fell over on her back, two vines reached up from below and began scratching at her sides.”Pfft-Hahahahahahaha! Эй, стой! Hahahaha! Hahahahahahaha!” (Hey, stop!) She said. The vines didn’t listen to her demands and kept going. A few more appeared to poke at her belly and sides, some acting as if they were testing which spots got more of a reaction out of her.

With Uzi, some of the vines were starting to scratch and stroke instead of just poke. It made her laugh a bit louder.”Hehehey!! Hahahahahah!! Whyhyhyhy ihihis thihihihis happehihihing?! Hahahahahahahaha!! Hahahahaha!!” She asked. She continued swatting until another vine grabbed her other hand and a third came up to support her back as both arms were raised. Doll tried to sit up, but a pair of vines wrapped around her arms as well and kept her laying on her back.”Я не знаю! Hahahaha! Hahahahahahaha! Hahahahaha! Hahahahaha!” (I don’t know!) Doll replied. Three more vines came to join the two already attacking her sides. Her laughter also grew a little louder.

After a few minutes had passed, the vines were starting to get a little bored. Six more had started tickling Doll’s feet, poking at the sensor buttons and sliding their feathery tips between the toe lines. For Uzi, some more vines decided to lightly tickle her neck and under her knees. Neither could focus hard enough to use the absolute solver, even if it worked on them. Finally, the thing Uzi had been dreading happened. Another vine came down from above and began stroking her belly. Her laughter grew louder and the vines tickling her suddenly stopped. Then, many of the vines lunged towards her belly as one to start tickling her.”AAHAHAHA!!! WAHAHAIT!!! NOHOHOHOT THE BEHEHELLY!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” She cackled. She kicked her legs wildly.

Seeing her cousin laugh hysterically, Doll began to worry that they might also find her bad spot. She tried to use her absolute solver again, but like earlier, it didn’t work. Maybe it didn’t work very well on organic matter. A few vines were getting close to her upper torso. Much to Doll’s “horror”, a vine finally scratched lightly at her upper torso and her laughter briefly went an octave higher. Just like what happened to Uzi, a bunch of vines quickly zoned in on that spot and Doll went into hysterics as well. She began struggling and moving around the best she could, but she still couldn’t get free.”HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” She felt like she was laughing harder than she had been the entire week, maybe even the past month.”Чего они хотят?! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” (What do they want?!) Doll asked.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! IHIHIHIHI DOHOHON’T KNOHOHOW!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! BUHUHUHUT IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T HAHANDLE IHIHIHIT ANYHYHYMOHOHORE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Uzi managed to say through her laughter. Suddenly, the vines stopped tickling both of them. They quickly retracted and let go of them, allowing them a chance to finally catch their breath and lay down for a bit.

The vines soon set their phones down next to them and one of them patted Uzi on the head before doing the same for Doll. It took them only a moment to regain enough of their strength to get up and walk over to the edge of the platform. They put their phones into their pockets after answering a text from Alice asking where they were.”Should we jump?” Uzi suggested, looking over the edge. Before Doll could answer, two big vines reached out and grabbed them. They carefully lifted them up over the edge, then lowered them onto the floor where smaller ones were waiting. When they were placed on the floor, the small vines placed themselves in their hands, wrapping the ends over their wrists, and began lightly pulling them into the hall. They both looked at each other, then pulled out their phones to turn on their flashlights.

[hskinhome]

Heyyy what's up? Could we get a shufflemancy or a tarot for beforian karkat in general? (Whichever is easiest? :)) Just his life and stuff if that's possible? We know he was *definitely* super pampered and spoiled but that's kinda all we know.

If 'life' is too broad maybe the game (if it existed?) And relationships?

Sure thing! I’ll do a tarot reading using this spread and my Homestuck Kickstarter deck, which should give you a better view of your life as a whole! Also, thanks to Mod Mituna for the behind-the-scenes interpretation input!

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First Card: Your past life as a whole

I got the upright Death card, which symbolizes the end, positive change, transformation, renewal, rebirth, new ideas, and new opportunities. Your spoiled-ness was to your detriment, causing you to stagnate in your beliefs and personality. However, you were taught how to be a better person (well, troll), and were reborn metaphorically! You transformed yourself, and as a result, new doors were opened to you! It was the end of your old, pampered self, and you became more giving!

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Second Card: Theme of major challenges

I got the upright Four of Swords, which symbolizes rest, retreat, recuperation, relaxation, and banishment. It’s possible that something you were passionate about caused you to become ostracized, and you retreated into yourself as a result. You may have slipped into a depression and lost your passion in isolation, and also struggled with fatigue and motivation for everyday living.

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Third Card: How you handled them, and their effects on you

I got the upright Chariot card, which symbolizes triumph, victory, success, control over natural forces, and balance. You were able to overcome your depression for sure, no matter how long it took! I don't know whether that was with yourself or with the people who banished you, but you were able to find the balance between yourself and your struggles to overcome them.

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Fourth Card: Lessons learned during this life

I got the reversed Eight of Pentacles, which symbolizes failed ambitions, false vanity, intrigue, and unethical practices of skills. You needed to accept that your pride and pampering, while definitely good for you for a time, did require some changing and overhaul. That doesn’t necessarily mean you were in the wrong the whole time, but you needed to make some effort to become a better person.

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Fifth Card: The impact or effect on your current life

I got the upright Six of Pentacles, which symbolizes charity with justice, fair distribution of wealth, generosity, presents, gifts, and material gain. In your current life, you’ve taken those past life lessons and put them to use! You’re caring and generous, possibly with a socialist/communist leading (/hj). But really, you care deeply about not only your friends but strangers, donating to charity and gift-giving being one of your top love languages! If this doesn’t fit how you are right now, it may be a good idea to consider how to integrate it!

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I hope this helps you! Let me know if it helps!