#i learned how to rig HELL YEAH

[rochambau]

uhh ermmm gnorp

Roswell The Ufo belongs to @garden-view-askblog!!!

[bettelaboure]

⊹Stolen peck?⊹ | Choi Seung-Hyun

third part in series "Course in Chemistry"

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⊹ Pairing: Choi Seung-Hyun x Reader

⊹ Warnings: mature language, sexual tension, teenage awkwardness and embarrassment, light discussion of intimacy and consent, some emotional sensitivity around academic self-worth

⊹ Summary: the reader reluctantly agrees to be tutored by awkward and quiet Seung-Hyun, she fullfil her side of the deal to be the one teaching him life’s more intimate lessons

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“There’s a lot more to attracting girls than just looking good and throwing out some lazy flirtation,” you said, arms folded. “Sure, that works on some people, but if you want to really be seen — like, remembered — you need more than surface-level charm.”

Seung-Hyun swallowed. “How much more?”

“Kissing, for example.” You leaned forward slightly. “If you’re good at it — and I mean really good — a girl will lose her breath and assume that what you’ve got going on with your mouth is just the beginning. Trust me on that. And I’m going to teach you.”

“Kiss you?” His voice cracked at the end, eyes wide.

You nodded. “Unless you'd rather keep practicing on your textbooks.” Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

“N-No. I just... I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I mean, I don’t even know you that well. What if you, like, have some disease? And I didn’t even take a mint, and I kinda don’t want my first kiss to be—”

You cut him off with a quick kiss. A single second. He jolted back like he’d been electrocuted.

“What the hell, Y/N?!”

“You didn’t die, did you? Sit the fuck back down.” You rolled your eyes.

“You kissed me without asking!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? That was barely more than a preschool peck. And what did you think this deal meant? I’m not about to hand you a fucking textbook on kissing, flirting, or sex. This is your part of the deal — like the grammar drills are mine.” He opened his mouth, but shut it again. He knew you were right.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you added with a smirk, “my first kiss was in first grade. Some kid with a runny nose smeared his snot all over my cheek. Be grateful you didn’t get that.”

He laughed, and some of the tension drained from his shoulders. “Sorry, I was just… surprised.”

“It’s okay.” You patted the spot next to you. He sat, more relaxed this time.

“So… was it okay?”

You snorted. “You mean that blink-of-an-eye moment where our lips barely touched? Yeah, sure. I’m Niagara Falls.”

He laughed, hand dragging nervously through his hair. The silence between you both stretched for a few beats before you spoke again.

“I’m going to kiss you again. And this time, longer.”

He looked at you and nodded, slowly.

“Relax. And for the love of God, breathe, Seung-Hyun.”

You shifted closer. His breath ghosted over your face, warm and shaky. You hadn’t expected to be nervous — it was just a kiss — but something about this felt strangely intimate. No tongue. No grabbing. Just… a kiss.

You pressed your lips to his again. He froze, but softened a little under the pressure. He was trying, but not responding. You pulled back.

“Now I want you to kiss me back this time.”

“How?”

“Just do what I did. Mirror it. Your body knows what to do — it’s instinct.”

You kissed him again, slower this time, giving him space to respond. This time, he did — hesitantly, but sweetly. He was picking it up. Fast.

“That was good,” you said softly. “Visual learner, huh?”

He shrugged. “I guess, when it comes to… physical stuff.”

“Figures.” You didn’t know anyone who’d learned to dance from a textbook.

“Ready to move on?”

He nodded.

“Okay. This next one’s like a middle school make-out. Nothing intense. Just follow my lead.”

You explained: kiss for a few seconds, pull back slightly, tilt left. Repeat. Then tilt right. It was a pattern. One he could follow.

He leaned in slower this time. He was watching your mouth, and this time, you could see he wanted it.

Your lips met again, and this time it felt… right. Natural. He responded in rhythm. No overthinking. Just instinct. His hands stayed stiff at his sides, though. You noticed.

Without speaking, you reached for one and guided it to your mid-back. His fingers spread automatically. Warm. Steady. The pressure of his palm pulled you closer.

There was a subtle taste of apple juice on his breath, barely there — like a memory lingering.

You let yourself melt into the kiss. His confidence grew. You felt his hand press firmer against your back. Your body leaned in naturally, mouth beginning to part, ready to go further—

—and then your phone blared, violently yanking you both back into reality.

You scrambled for it, saw the name: Jae-mi. Perfect timing.

“I need to…”

“Yeah. It’s okay,” Seung-Hyun said, straightening his shirt with shaky hands.

“What?” you snapped, answering the phone.

“GUESS WHAT THAT BASTARD YOUNG-BAE DID!” Jae-mi screamed. “You know how I got the whole drama club to vote for me for ‘Best Student’ in the yearbook? Well, guess what, he’s screwing the lead actress and telling everyone I had HERPES in sophomore year. HERPES, Y/N!”

You blinked, stunned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! I have no votes now! They’re all voting for him! My life is over!”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” you sighed, already grabbing your bag.

“Hurry!”

You hung up. “I have to go,” you told Seung-Hyun.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Girl drama.” You gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you next time.”

—

“So… how was it?” Jae-mi was relentless the next day as you sat on the bleachers.

“How was what?”

“Smart and awkward — Seung-Hyun.”

You smirked, thinking about his flushed cheeks, his warm hands. “It was fine. We didn’t do much.”

Jae-mi raised a brow. “What did you do?”

“Kissed.”

“Like a makeout?”

“Kinda.”

“Tongue?”

You snorted. “Does he look like he can handle tongue?”

“Fair point.” She hummed and went back to her textbook. “When’s your next session?”

“Tomorrow evening.”

—

You stared at the cover of the book on the desk. Your stomach twisted.

“A 7th grade English book?” you said slowly.

“I think it could help.”

“For a 7th grader.” You glared. Was this a joke?

“I talked to Mr. Kim,” Seung-Hyun said. “He gave me some of your test papers—”

“You what? That’s a violation of my privacy!”

“I was trying to help! And I think I found the issue. You’re fine with future tenses. It’s the past and present that trip you.”

You stared at the book again. It looked childish in your hands. Weak. You hated how it made you feel — stupid. Small.

“I don’t want it.”

“Y/N, stop being stupid. It’s just a textbook.”

His words slammed into you. Did he even hear himself? You looked away, blinked hard.

People always said you were dramatic. Overreacting. But something about this just hurt.

“Can we do something else?” you asked, quietly.

He hesitated. “This… this was the plan.”

“I’ll just go, then.” You got up, grabbed your bag. But he followed.

“Wait!” he said quickly. You turned.

“What?”

He looked nervous again, shifting, hands gripping the ends of his sleeves. “What about your part of the deal?”

You stared at him. His flushed cheeks. The way he couldn’t meet your eyes. Maybe you did need to burn off the sting. A distraction.

You put the bag back down. “Okay,” you said softly. “Come sit.”

He did.

“What... what are we doing?”

“Tongue.”

His throat bobbed again. “Oh. Okay.”

You scooted closer. “I’m going to kiss you.”

He was ready for it this time.

When your lips touched, you immediately tasted mint. That little shit planned for this.

He kissed you back gently, awkwardly. One hand hovered uselessly, the other gripped the headboard. You pulled away.

“I don’t know what to do with my hands,” he admitted.

“That’s okay.” You took one hand and placed it on your back. The other, to your cheek. Warm. Steady.

“You okay with touching me?”

“Do you not want to touch me?”

“I-I…” He exhaled. “I do. I want to know.”

You nodded. “Then trust me.” You leaned in.

This time, when your lips met, neither of you hesitated.

You leaned in again, and this time, Seung-Hyun didn’t hesitate. The nerves were still there—you could feel them in the slight tremble of his fingers on your back—but he kissed you like he was listening. Not just to your words, but to your rhythm, your breath, the way you tilted your head and parted your lips like an unspoken invitation. He took it.

Your lips met and lingered. You deepened the kiss slowly, coaxing rather than commanding. His lips softened under yours, no longer stiff with uncertainty. When you parted your mouth just slightly, he mirrored you. His tongue brushed against yours—a little clumsy, hesitant, but there—and you let him feel what it meant to truly kiss someone, not just perform it.

You reached up and threaded your fingers into his hair, letting your nails gently graze his scalp. He shivered under the touch. Encouraged, he pulled you just a bit closer, hand pressing into your lower back, holding you like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. He was learning fast. His other hand, the one cupping your cheek, shifted slightly, thumb brushing against your skin with something that felt almost reverent.

You smiled into the kiss. He tasted like mint and something inherently boyish, like the vague sweetness of fruit and chapstick. You tilted your head and deepened the kiss again, letting your tongue slide over his just briefly before pulling back enough to breathe. His eyes were wide, his lips slightly swollen and parted, pupils blown with surprise—and something else. Want, maybe.

“Good,” you murmured, voice husky from the intensity. “That was good, Seung-Hyun.”

He looked like he was trying to find air. “You’re... You’re really good at that.”

You gave a short, amused laugh. “I’ve had practice.”

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to your lips again. “Can we... do it again?”

The question came out shy, almost embarrassed, but the way he looked at you told you he wasn’t asking just for technique. You didn’t answer with words—just leaned in and kissed him again. Slower this time. Deeper. His mouth responded in kind, more confident now, his hand exploring with more intent, spreading heat wherever he touched. His fingers flexed on your back like he couldn’t decide if he should pull you closer or hold still and memorize everything.

This kiss lasted longer. You felt yourself sinking into it, melting into the way his body molded to yours, his mouth moving with increasing ease against yours. When he kissed you this time, it wasn’t just copying—it was intuitive. He was getting it.

Eventually, you pulled back again, both of you breathing heavily. There was a beat of silence between you, charged and thick.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded. “Yeah. I just... I didn’t think kissing could feel like that.”

You smirked. “That’s because you’ve never done it right.”

He laughed, eyes bright, cheeks still flushed. “I’m starting to think this tutoring thing might be the best decision I ever made.”

You raised a brow. “Don’t get cocky. We’ve still got work to do.”

His lips quirked into a crooked smile, one that made your chest feel unexpectedly tight.

“Then I’m ready for the next lesson.”

You kissed him again—slow, deep, unhurried. You wanted him to feel it, really feel it. The way a kiss could pull someone under like a current. And he was feeling it.

This time, Seung-Hyun didn’t just react—he responded. His hands were more assured now, one at your waist, the other still cradling your cheek. His tongue moved cautiously, but with intent, matching your rhythm. The room felt smaller, warmer. His body pressed against yours and you let it, your knees nearly brushing.

That’s when you felt it—something shifting between you, not just metaphorically. He flinched slightly, as if even he only just noticed it, and you felt the sudden tension in his muscles.

Your lips broke apart, barely a breath away from his, and your eyes fluttered open.

His eyes were already wide, panicked. He realized you’d noticed.

You bit back a grin, but the slight twitch of your mouth gave you away.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, pulling back suddenly. “I—I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t—shit.”

He pushed off the bed so fast it almost made you fall back, stumbling across the room and fumbling to adjust his sweater lower. His face was beet red.

“Seung-Hyun.” You laughed, sitting up properly.

“I’m sorry!” he yelped, waving his hands like you were accusing him of something criminal. “I didn’t plan for that to happen! I swear!”

You couldn’t hold back the chuckle that bubbled up, genuine and amused but not unkind. “Relax. It’s literally a natural reaction.”

He shook his head frantically, already halfway to the door. “I’m gonna go splash cold water on my face. Or jump off the balcony. Haven’t decided yet.”

“Seung-Hyun—” You stood up, crossing your arms with a smirk, but your tone was softer now. “Hey. Come on. Don’t be dramatic.”

He turned back slightly, cheeks still burning. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m laughing because you’re cute when you panic,” you said honestly.

That only seemed to make it worse.

“God. Kill me.”

You stepped forward, stopping a few feet from him, still giving him space. “Look. It happens. Like… all the time. You’re a teenage boy and we were making out. What did you think was gonna happen?”

He opened his mouth to answer but clearly had no idea how to justify himself. You watched the gears in his brain try and fail to spin fast enough.

You shrugged, casual. “I’m not grossed out. I’m not offended. You’re fine.”

He groaned and hid his face in his hands. “I’m never going to recover from this.”

“Seung-Hyun, it’s just a boner. You didn’t confess your love to me or trip in front of the whole cafeteria.”

He peeked at you through his fingers.

“…That’s not comforting.”

You laughed again, walking over to pat his shoulder gently. “Go. Splash water. Breathe. Then come back and we’ll talk about boundaries next time so you don’t sprint across the room like I lit you on fire.”

“Noted,” he muttered, still dying inside.

“Also?” you added, smirking as you turned toward the door. “If you ever want to try kissing like that again… I don’t mind.”

You could practically hear the steam rising from his ears as he fled down the hallway.

Taglist: @redhoodedtoad @mirahyun @sherrayyyyy @sherxoo @dilfismz @breakmeoff @janie-osuih @forevervibezzzz1 @kuinnoa @juliskopf @maskedcrawford @szonyix6277@ldydeath

[secretly-zel]

Husband!Eren x Reader Headcanons

Synopsis: Eren husband headcanons—specifically during the time when your baby’s learning to say their first word.

A/N: I stumbled onto baby videos (again) on tiktok because c’mon… babies are so cute. and i started watching ‘first word’ baby videos and it got me thinking about how eren would be in this scenario and honestly i only see it going two ways

credits to artist (if yk who the artist is lmk)

Eren as your husband and you both have a baby, I feel like it could go two ways with him when it comes to if the baby says mama or dada first.

Option One:

He’s going to want the baby to say “mama” because he loves you so much.

Especially if that baby is a girl he’ll definitely want her to say mama first.

Because, he has his loving wife and now his sweet little princess? Oh, he definitely wants her to say mama first.

You’re his wife, the love of his life, the woman who gave him this tiny miracle he can’t stop staring at. If your baby is a little girl, oh he’s DONE. Game over. He’s in full girl dad mode and wants her first word to be "mama" because it’ll melt his entire soul into a puddle.

He sees you holding her, rocking her, kissing her forehead and whispering “mama” to her sweet little face, and he’s in the background smiling like a lovesick idiot.

He’ll be like:

“Say mama, baby girl… yeah, that’s mama. She’s perfect, huh?”

If it’s a boy I feel like it’s still the same.

But I also have to say that if this is your first kid and it’s a boy I feel like I’m leaning more towards option two.

He loves you so much and he’d die to hear his kids say mama first.

However…

Option 2:

Listen. If this is your first kid? All bets are off. His brain is now wired for competition. He’s gunning for “dada” like it’s a fucking Olympic sport.

Or he’s going to be absolutely insanely competitive and want the baby to say dada and will literally try his worst to have the first words to be dada.

I’m talking he’s going to be screaming and running around the house like a crazy person if that baby says dada first.

You say “mama”? He’s immediately countering that with a loud, borderline aggressive “DADA!”

Every. Single. Time.

You: “Ma-Ma. Say Ma—“

Eren, from the other side of the room at full volume: “DADA! DADA, BUBBA! Come on, champ, say Da-Da!”

*cut to you rolling your eyes at your over competitive husband.*

He’ll spend hours holding your kid up like Simba just whispering “dada” over and over like some brainwashing cult leader. If he catches you whispering “mama” during bedtime stories, he’ll march in with a smug grin like:

“Oh? We doing whispering games now? Cool. Dada.”

And let’s be honest—he’s not doing it to be petty. Okay, maybe a little. But mostly? It’s about the principle.

What do you mean say mama first? Nah girl. I got you pregnant and that kids saying dada first.

“Hell no, that baby is saying dada first. I put in the work. I earned that title.”

*another cue to you smacking the back of his head for that comment.*

If the baby does say mama first? He’ll still melt, of course. He’ll pretend to pout, act betrayed, mumble something about “rigged from the start,” while elbow-deep in baby wipes.

But deep down? He’s proud. He’s in love. And yeah, you’ll catch him recording the moment and watching it on loop while pretending he’s not emotional.

[airborneice]

sooo I think this ended up being my tribute art to hilda the series? almost a whole year after the show ended but oh well 🤷‍♀️

if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ramble about how much the show means to me for a bit -

Soooo I really really love this show. It is so delightful in every way, from the heartwarming and funny writing to the insanely beautiful visuals. You can tell that every aspect of this show was made with so much love and care and it truly has a type of charm to it that I’ve never seen in anything else. I’m really glad it exists and got the run that it did.

While I was drawing this I kept thinking back to a recent quote from Luke Pearson about how iconic to the series that little red cabin in the wilderness is, even though it was only there for a couple of episodes/comics - pretty much everything that happened in the show is because the story moved on from there and Hilda found new settings and characters and her world got so much bigger, but at the end of the day, that place is where it all started.

When I was re-watching season 1 clips to get art references it took me right back to 2018 when the show first aired. I remember often putting on the season 1 soundtrack while I was scanning animations under the rostrum when I was at uni late and re-watching the episodes when I was feeling down and needed a bit of cosyness. I was Going Through It in late 2018 for a number of reasons and this quickly became my comfort show, and that’s probably a part of why I still love it years later - things are way better but it’s just lodged there in my heart now.

And uh…not to get all cliché but…this show really did help point me towards where I am now. While I was at uni I’d study clips of it from time to time to see how the animators achieved what they did and I learned some useful stuff here and there. like..someone’s animation breakdown video on Hilda is what introduced me to the concept of arcs (I was on an animation course so I should’ve known abt arcs already but oh well. better late than never 🫠) and a ton of animation stuff made more sense to me after that. I can look at some of my very old animations and pin-point a principle or a little cheat that I learned from studying Hilda. On top of that, at my uni we focused on hand-drawn animation (on paper first and then. photoshop of all things 😑) so that was the whole scope of my animation knowledge, and I was really fascinated by how 2D rig shows like Hilda even worked.

In the end I got so curious that I took a toonboom course after I graduated and started figuring it out for myself. I didn’t really know what to do with myself in the immediate post-graduation job search hell, but I wanted to learn more skills and Hilda looked like the type of show I wanted to be on more than anything, so I made a point of learning the stuff that might get me there. And learning rig anim was extra fun bc it helped me understand how this show was made and appreciate it even more :) It truly lit up an enthusiasm in me for all the technical behind-the-scenes stuff in cartoons that still keeps me motivated to this day. anddd long story short I’m a 2D rig animator now so I guess it worked out! ngl I think it’s very funny that I stanned Hilda so hard it got me a job on a disney show. how does that even happen. (and I’ve even had the honour of working with some of the people who made Hilda so in a way it feels like it’s all come full-circle now :) )

And obviously, it’s been really fun being in the fandom with everyone and being insane together. It’s wild that it’s been 6 years of that. I’m glad for the cool people I met and all those fun times. I’m really glad I got to be a part of that.

Soo yeah!! lovely show. thank you

[jazeswhbhaven]

Hello~!

That might be a weird idea, but how would the kings react to a gn!MC who's insanely lucky with crane games and the like?

Like, they manage to win at least once every few tries and even those giant plushies

(totally didn't get inspired cause I and my little sis won a few plushies at the funfair today, including a giant bowser lol)

Thank you for waiting anon, this idea isn't weird at all. In fact I'm terrible at crane games so if I had any luck I'd spend a lot of time getting cool prizes lol

And a giant Bowser plush???? Ah man I'd be so stoked to have one of those in my house because he's just great

Satan: Crane games are a rare find in Gehenna because the angels keep destroying their arcades. However, MC does come across one and Satan watches intently as MC easily wins a prize, then the next, then the next. He wants to try but he loses immediately. It mildly annoys him and he tries again only to lose again. Fair to say that the crane machine gets smashed and Satan takes the prize he wants anyway. MC doesn't suggest crane games ever again.

Mammon: Tartaros has plenty of crane games around for tourist. Mammon even has a few in the palace just for fun and he often gives out tokens specifically for the ones in the palace for the subjects to use. His prizes are a bit odd, but MC has no problem winning most of them which impresses Mammon. He does think it's a bit useless as he could simply just buy whatever it is for MC, but whatever joy they get from playing crane games is enough for him. He's happy to see them happy. but he's not allowed to play because he usually ends up breaking the crane machine with his massive hands.

Beelzebub: Crane games? Hell yeah. Beel is a natural when it comes to playing them, but he'd rather watch MC because it fascinates him just how easy it is for them to win. He takes them around all of Avisos trying out even the most rigged crane game known in Hell to clean everyone out of their savings. MC loses the first round but their second try yields them a cash prize and then some. MC just can't be beat. And it's very clear...that Beel plans on using this to his advantage. A reason to go to more places to see if MC can win them all type of advantage.

Leviathan: There's...pretty much only one crane game in Hades, but the prizes are mostly fanmade Leviathan items. MC brings Levi along to watch them try their hand at the game, but he seems disinterested. After they win, he pushes them aside and also plays saying their technique was sloppy. Turns out he wasn't "wrong" as he also wins the next round. He gives MC the prize and tells them not to share it with anyone or even mention they did this together.

Lucifer: He's new to crane games, and Paradise Lost doesn't have any, so MC has to take him to Gehenna in order to play. He watches in silence as MC wins him a prize which is a stuffed toy ram. He holds it and then tries his hand at winning. He's not very good and he gets mildly irritated but he does try again. Finally he wins something small for MC and gives it to them in exchange. He says crane games are not enjoyable for him, but he does want to know more on how MC learned how to win so much.

Belphegor: This otaku is the master of crane games. His entire room is filled with prizes for a reason. Yes, he could simply "buy" them if he wanted but he says there's no fun in that. However, it's only worth it if the item is rare enough. He has MC try and is impressed by them winning each time and they even got a rare prize Belphie was looking for. Needless to say he drags them around pretty much all the time to where the rarest items are so MC can get it for him. Less work the better.

[httpswritings]

I see only the good, selective memory — Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso

Warnings: nsfw. a few spanks. don't read if you don't like open chapter endings.

Word count: more than 1007

Summary: Alexia can't stand it anymore. Top!Alexia, Sub!Jenni.

A/N: Second part of Can't Remember To Forget You

As the days went by, Alexia and Jenni started to be more relaxed in each other's presence. Letting their guard down gave them some intimate moments as they had deep conversations about their careers, their families, and themselves individually, although shower time had been hell for them. Seeing the other one getting out of the bathroom with their wet, messy hair falling down their shoulders made them go mad. Quick looks, appreciating each other's bodies and their shampoo and body lotion's scent filling up the room. 

Eventually, the first one that had showered would quickly get dressed and get out of the room to go anywhere but to stay in the same place as her ex-girlfriend. 

Alexia blamed herself for not being in control of her own feelings and thoughts, while Jenni felt defeated, as she had already accepted how weak Alexia made her feel. A type of weakness that Alexia used to take care of, protecting and loving Jenni so well to make her feel secure in their relationship. 

The two of them had their own time in the shower, remembering their sexual encounters with each other. Both of them tried not to fall into the trap, but eventually failed tremendously. 

-

One night, Alexia woke up to soft whimpers and sighs coming from Jenni's bed.

She suddenly realized that her roommate was having a very good time dreaming. 

She felt a warmth sensation below her core, and as she was about to get out of the room to distract herself, she heard Jenni whispering her name.

“Yeah?” 

When Alexia got no response and realized Jenni had moaned her name in her sleep, she headed to Jenni's bed.

The pink-haired woman brushed Jenni's hair, noticing how sweaty it was from the sexually explicit dream.

“Ale...Rig— Right there”

After hearing Jenni bumble those words, Alexia lost the little self-control she had left and proceeded to wake her ex-girlfriend, who jolted up, breathing heavily.

“Sh, sh, sh. It was just a dream.”

At first, Jenni was disappointed, but then, as she regained consciousness, she realized she might just have fucked up.

“I'm sorry, I—”

Alexia covered Jenni's mouth and whispered in her ear, “Don't you dare to apologize. You don't know how much I'd missed hearing you moan my name”

The older woman could barely speak, being paralyzed by the embarrassment she was feeling.

“Don't be shy, Jenni. Well, actually, be. It's turning me on. But if you want me to continue, you have to tell me.”

“Switch on the lights.”

“No.”

“Alexia.”

“No.”

Jenni sighed. She wasn't used to this version of Alexia, but she couldn't deny she felt some curiosity about it.

“Has it been that long that you now like to be in control in bed?”

“I've been like this with you before.”

“Rarely.”

Alexia had taken control in bed before with her, but still, Jenni was eager to see what she could expect from her ex-girlfriend, 

“Let me show you what I've learned.” Jenni couldn't denied Alexia's request, so she simply relaxed on the bed until Alexia began kissing her around both sides of her hips, making her squirm under her. “Be patient, Jenni.” Alexia rolled Jenni over to get her face onto the mattress. She moved Jenni's hair to the side and began kissing her neck to whisper in her ear, “You've been driving me crazy since we got here. Probably even before that.” Jenni may have been letting Alexia be on charge but still refused to be that docile to her, so she answered back, “That's what I wanted. It took you less than I expected to do something about it.” 

“Oh, did you? Well, if this is what you wanted, then you're going to get it.” Jenni gripped the sheets under the pillow while Alexia was entertained by kissing the tattoos on her back, leaving small bites. The darkness of the room didn't let her see them, but she still remembered the exact place where they were marked on Jenni's skin.

“You've always loved to bite, don't you?” 

Alexia agreed. Her hands scratched all over Jenni's back. “If you remember me that well, you should also remember how much I used to scratch my nails on your back as I tried to hold onto you, right?” With that being said, she spanked Jenni's ass, gaining a moan from her. 

That sound always made Alexia lose it all. “You don't know all the things I'd love do to you on this bed right now, but you have to be quiet unless you want to be called out by the staff. It's probably like three in the morning.” Jenni nodded with her left cheek resting on the mattress. 

“Can I take your clothes off?” 

Jenni nodded again, afraid to say anything just in case a moan would interrupt it. 

Alexia got rid of Jenni's pants, exposing her ass, only covered by a black thong. “I don't even need to see your body; I remember perfectly every single part of it.” Another spank. “Ale—Alexia, they are going to hear us...” Jenni felt Alexia's body on top of her ass, leaning until her chest touched her back. “So you want me to stop spanking you?”

“No—Joder, no. But I don't want the staff to hear it.” 

“Yeah, you're right. I'm the only one who's going to hear you tonight. I'm not sharing that privilege. Have you been with other women since we broke up? I want to know if someone has heard what belongs to me.”

“Why would you want to know that?”

“Answer me, Jennifer.”

Another spank.

“Joder— Sí, I've been with other women.”

Alexia couldn't deny that hearing that made her feel uncomfortable, but she still wanted to hear more. It made no sense, but even if it made her feel uneasy, she felt pleasure in knowing Jenni was now under her at her command and not with any other women. She was hers, at least for tonight.

“Be more detailed.”

“I've been with four women since we broke up. Only one of them got to be my girlfriend, but we fell apart. The other three were random hook-ups.”

“In what aspects did they remind you of me?”

[cryptictongues]

To Kiss is to Hunger

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 5.0K summary: You are terrified to kiss Joshua. Joshua has an idea to remedy that.

warnings: practice kissing, grinding, touching, intimacy, mutual pining, insecurities and self-doubt, just straight up romance

Author’s Notes: Ngl I know I said it would be a little frisky, but just so happens I made it just a little bit friskier because Joshua is just a touch starved man. Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

You couldn’t fathom why you are in the Shelves this late into the night. ‘It’s silly.” You think, walking around, trying to find anything to help you with your little dilemma. You tried to put your brain to rest, to calm its ravenous thoughts of anxiety, but the efforts were futile. And it is all because a teasing strawberry blond tried to kiss you.

You and the young Lord got quite close after his arrival to the Hideaway. You help out as a barmaid for Molly in the Ale House, and the first night of Joshua being out of the infirmary after the fall of Drake’s Tail had been all the talk. You would overhear conversations about how charming he was, how he was very knowledgeable about the lands of Valisthea, and how he is the brother of the leader of the Hideaway. He piqued your curiosity, as most newcomers do, but you didn’t think anything to come of it.

There was one night, however, where service wasn’t off its rig, and you had decided to take that time to practice your reading. Reading and writing are forbidden practices for Branded, and you were only able to learn reading due to old, scribbled writings thrown into the trash bins. You would rummage through for every written scrap in the dead of night and return it before your enslavers came to. To you, it was a piece to the puzzle of your freedom. But only a piece. 

You were reading an old children’s fairytale: a prince in search of the long-lost princess who searched day and night to find her. You were immersed, so much so you hadn’t noticed the presence in front of you, seemingly still but present all the same. 

“Ah, I read that story many times as a child. A true classic.”

Your head had snapped so far back you thought you would’ve fallen backwards. Your eyes jumped until they landed on the man before you, and you remember how wonderstruck you felt. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach producing butterflies. You felt a sense of embarrassment, however, as the book you were reading was adapted for children. You knew those born with a silver spoon were highly educated, so to have someone as handsome and surely intelligent as he watching you read made you nervous to be a laughing stock. 

“Yeah, but it’s more of a watered down version of it. I’m sure I’ll get to read the original someday.” You had awkwardly explained, waiting for him to make a joke of your lack of ability to read at a level that matched your maturity. That joke, however, never came. He stayed and asked you questions, such as who your favorite character was, what your favorite part of the story was, and so on. That conversation led beyond the book, and it is a fond memory of the golden boy.

It wasn’t long after that he offered to tutor you and made an extraordinary effort to give you books about topics you liked. Hell, he would even bring books back from long expeditions that him, Clive, and Jill would go on. “I found this story about sea fairies that I thought you would like.” “I saw a merchant selling a copy of this book I think you’ll enjoy.” “This book made me think of you.”

After many nights and days passing, it had become apparent that your heart had let him in, and you were relieved to know that his heart blazed for you also. However, unlike you, he is very evident about how he shows his feelings for you. He initiated the first hand holding, the first embrace, every tender moment you both have shared has been started by him. It makes you nervous, he makes you nervous, but in a conflicting way because you want everything he has to offer, yet your life of being treated less than for so long has put in the fear of not being enough. You fear you will misstep, embarrass yourself, he will realize he can have someone better, and let you down gently. He is a gentleman, after all.

All of the insecurities and doubts you hold have led you to the shelves due to this past evening's events.

-

A gathering of many members of the Hideaway was taking place, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging stories from the road, and eating and drinking so good that spirits were at an all time high. About halfway through the evening, Joshua and Clive had returned from their mission that had kept them away for well over a week, and joined everyone in the festivities. You could feel Joshua’s eyes on you constantly as you worked, soft gazes in your direction as you brought over more ale. You hadn’t seen each other since he had left, and you could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted you close, longing for your time. 

And you weren’t the only one to sense it.

“Go on.” You heard Molly speak as you polished the cups.

“Hmmm?” You turned to see her smirking at you, nudging her head in the direction of the young Rosfield. 

“You are free of your duties. You spend some time with everyone, especially you know who.” 

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed. “I appreciate it, but Molly there is a lot to clean up. I can’t ask you to do this all by yourself.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffed, walking to you, taking the scrub and cup out of your hands, only to set them aside to grab your own. “We all deserve a little down time. Please, I insist.”

You hesitated, and her eyes softened. “In these troubling times, every moment counts; for anything can happen at any time. We must be selfish with our time.” 

That alone had set you into motion. You had walked over to sit beside him, hip to hip, his arm draped around your side with his head leaning slightly against your own as Clive shared his and his brother’s adventures. 

You could tell Joshua was more touchy than normal, not that you minded. You would feel him squeeze you from time to time. If you shifted slightly, he would adjust so you were still close to him. You would feel him turn his head to bury his face into your hair, gentle caresses of his lips against your scalp. No words were spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the night together with everyone. But even nights like these had to end. 

You called it a night, telling everyone that you were going to head to the bed chambers, but not before Joshua insisted on walking you there. The two of you had bid goodnight to the others, and with your hand in Joshua’s grasp, the two of you walked to the bed chambers, small talk between the two of you as you both headed there slowly.  

“I can’t believe you let Clive do that.” You giggled, Joshua’s story about his older brother shoving a carrot into his mouth to make him sick. 

“He had reason, for we were in an unfortunate situation. We needed a reason to slip away.” Joshua grimaced, vaguely remembering the taste of the raw carrot. “Besides, I have always had a soft spot for my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“I know having him back in your life has been a gift.” You smiled, waving his arm back and forth as you both approached the bed chambers. He pulled your arm back gently, causing you to turn into his arms. The way he was looking at you left you speechless; a thousand words being spoken through one look. 

“Why yes, it has truly been a gift by the Founder to be reunited with my brother.” He brings your hand up to his chest, right above his heart; the thumping gingerly warming up your palm. “It has also been a gift to have the honor of being allowed your time, my lady.”

You shook your head, but before you could’ve said anything, Joshua had spoken once more. “On the topic of gifts, I have something for you.” 

He slipped his free hand into the large pouch of his belt and pulled out what you can see is a book. He placed the book in both of your hands, grazing them before allowing you to inspect it. You recognized the artistry of the book: hardbound leather, intricate gold lining, and a sturdy weight in your hand. You looked at the title and you found yourself releasing a shaky breath. 

“I thought you said there were no more copies.” You whispered, in disbelief as to what you were seeing. Enchanting thy Fair Maiden. It was a copy of a book Joshua has praised over. He would recite lines to you from what he memorized as a child, and you would ask him to retell them to you over and over again, never tiring from hearing his smooth voice telling you a tale.

“It took some bartering, but it was worth it if it means I could grant you a copy.” 

Snapping from your mind, you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Joshua, I can’t accept this. This is one of your favorite stories. You should keep it.” 

You tried pushing the book back into Joshua’s, but not before him grasping both of your hands and gently pushing it back into your vicinity. “My lady.” He begged. “I can reassure you that nothing would please me more than you accepting this gift.”

You stayed silent for a moment, a brief pause in the timeline aside from you and him, before smiling shyly, looking away from him in a flush. “I will cherish this for all days, Joshua. Maybe you can read it to me properly sometime.”

“Anything for you, dearest.” 

Your gaze stayed down, not knowing how to bid farewell for the night, before you felt Joshua’s hand lightly touch your cheek, lifting your face for him to look upon. You sensed a certain hesitancy, his eyes seeking for something on your face before landing back on your own. 

“May I try something?” 

Everything started to go slow and fast at the same time, your mind racing and hyper focusing on every detail. You focused on how much closer Joshua had gotten to you, how his body heat had your body melting tenfold, how his face leaned down to yours, his hand stroking your cheek. You realized what he was asking to do: he was asking to kiss you.

Sudden flashes of self-doubt came crashing down onto you, Joshua’s hand on your branded cheek making you feel self-conscious. What is he doing? How can he want to kiss me? Oh, Greagor be with me, I have never kissed anyone. I am going to make a fool of myself!

Out of reflex and fear, you stepped back and away from Joshua’s reach. He looked startled, not expecting your reaction, and all you could do was stare at him as you calmed your heart down. You felt embarrassment shudder down your spine, but you knew that it would have been worse if you had attempted to kiss him. 

You tried to shrug it off, chuckling awkwardly as if that would erase the last few seconds of shame you felt. “It is late. I’m afraid I must turn in. Goodnight, Joshua.” 

You flung the chamber door open and closed it just as fast without a glance in Joshua’s direction, your back hitting the wood as you worked your anxieties down.

Now you’ve really done it stupid stupid STUPID!

-

So here you are, looking for a kissing manual that doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe it has come to this.” You moan, shaking your head at how pathetic you currently feel. You want to kiss him; of course you want to kiss him! But the thought of kissing him and making a complete fool out of yourself has strung itself high in your head. You will do anything to ease your anxieties, and if finding literature that will help you is the way, then so be it. 

You keep searching the shelves, and finally you see something that catches your attention. You see a book with a deep red spine, and immediately you become curious. Red means romance which maybe means kissing, right? you think and go to reach for it, your tippy toes giving you an extra inch that helps you grab the old spine of the book. Once the book is grasped, you give it a once over and what you see is nothing at all. The book has no title, no author, no nothing. Just hardbound leather that looks as if it had been dyed with blood. 

You move to sit at a table, the kissing debacle hiding in the back of your skull as a new curiosity peeks. You stare at the book intently, like it was going to open up for you to tell you all of its secrets. A book with no visible identity, no mark.

The curiosity killed the cat as you finally flipped it open, the crackle of the pages singing, showing its age. The first few pages are barren with no offering until you reach the first official page. You read, smiling because you can read everything on the page in comprehension, but also because it’s a love poem. You never have had the chance to read poetry thus far, so this was a treat for you. Just the thing I need to ease my mind.

You continue reading the poems, most being about love, companionship, and things in the realm of romance. As you read them, you picture Joshua and yourself, like the two of you were living in the reality of this book full of lovely prose. In a way, it makes you recognize that maybe what Joshua sees in you is what you are imagining right now: a lover, a partner for life. You feel a sense of confidence swell in you, so you read on, addicted to the words written out.

Until you get to the next page.

What you read next halts your breathing, slowing it down to stop fire from growing in your chest. This poem is about the same things previously stated, love, romance, companionship, but in a much more intimate form. The words strung together formed the most erotic sentences, words of longing for the senses. They make you blush hotly; they make you antsy in your chair while locked in, but most especially they make your mind run wild with fantasies of you and him. 

Oh, you and him.

You mind wanders as you read, zoning out into a reality where you exude the confidence to give into Joshua’s desires and more. The words dig into your skin, warming you up that your thin nightgown felt like plenty of layers on this cool night. You are so immersed that you don’t hear the large doors open, and the calling of your name feels like a figment of your imagination. It’s not until you feel the warmth on your shoulders that you are brought back, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dropped over your head from the cold sweat.

You slam the book shut, turning so quickly that the room starts to spin before the warmth on your shoulders grows firm, steadying you in your seat. You look to see Joshua staring at you, worry showing on his face seemingly from your reaction. “I deeply apologize, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You breathe a chuckle, seeing him here at a time like this would be your luck. You cross your arms, becoming extremely aware of your lack of clothing under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He retorts and pulls out a chair to sit facing you. “Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep much. I came here to see if doing more research would tire me, but it seems fate has chosen a more direct route to my restlessness.”

You see why he can’t sleep, and sigh because this is from your doing. “Joshua, you have nothing to fret over. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I’m afraid you are wrong, my lady. I shouldn’t have been so forward, and to know I put you in an uncomfortable position upsets me greatly. I would never dream of making you uneasy, and for my mishaps I must apologize to you. I cannot bear the thought of you keeping your distance because of my foolishness.” 

You watch him as he apologizes for his directness, which internally makes you laugh because that isn’t the issue. You love his directness, just as he is being direct with you right now. It’s you. It’s your cowardice for wanting something more and not having the courage to pursue because of the what ifs, the buts, the howevers. It’s your fear of rejection because of your lived experiences. It’s you, not him. 

“Joshua.” You state, moving to grab his hands within your own. “You did nothing wrong.”

“My lady, please I-” 

“Shhh,” you hush. “Let me speak.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I apologize for making you feel you need to.” You exhale, preparing to open yourself up for display. “It’s all me. I’m inexperienced, and I’ve been viewed as nothing for so long that I’m fearful that one misstep will set you away; that you can have someone who knows what they are doing and have the confidence to show for it.”

“Is that really what this is about?” Joshua asks.

You nod, looking down at the two of your intertwined hands. You see Joshua’s hands pull away from yours and your breath shakes. This is it. He is going to leave. That’s until you feel the heat that only the Phoenix could exude on your cheeks, your head being brought up to see him smiling. “My dearest,” Joshua whispers, as if talking any louder would damn him. “You are my everything, for you have captured me: mind, body, and soul. Also, your inexperience mirrors mine, I can assure you.”

Your eyes widen. “There is no way that can be true. You are a Lord.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head as his hands go back to you, grasping them with care. “I was only a child then. Besides, the Undying were very protective of me under their care. There was no time nor place for such things. Even then, the only person that was always allowed in my vicinity was Jote, and we have never viewed each other romantically.”

“So, there really has been no one?” You whisper, your mind stuck between disbelief and credence.

“No. Not until now.” He squeezes your hands. “My heart belongs to you, and you alone. There is no one else I’d rather give myself to.”

You shiver, the idea of experiencing forms of intimacy together for the first time spreads a raging fire in your stomach. “You sure have a way with words, Joshua Rosfield.”

“You can thank all of the romance novels I read in my youth.” He chuckles. “Speaking of books, what were you reading?”

“What?” You ask, forgetting about the erotica sitting inches away from you. 

“The book you were reading. I don’t believe I have read that one yet. May I take a look?” 

You are panicking, knowing the contents of the book and who is asking to take a peek. You go to grab it, reacting as fast as you could, but alas you reacted too late. Joshua now has the book, opening the page you had left off on, and starts to read. You see his eyes go wide, his pupils dilating, his fingers fidgeting against the page he is holding. You freak out, going to reach for the book before he reads further. “Okay Joshua, that’s enough.” A smile creeps up slowly on his face, humming as he moves to stand up before your fingertips touch the book, backing away slowly as he continues. You stand up, walking up to him to get that god forsaken book away from him. 

“Oh Joshua, please give me back the book!” You panic. 

“By the Founder, what possessed you to read this smut?” Joshua smirks, seamlessly avoiding your grabby hands as he reads the pages. “Especially in the middle of the night?”

He wasn’t meant to see this! He wasn’t meant to see you reading the abhorrent words you were consuming. He wasn’t meant to see you like this in your flimsy gown. Damn me! Why did I not cover up more?!

“To taste the lips is to be fulfilled, for the instinct of man is to claim, conquer, and revel in the midst of her flesh. To kiss is to hunger, to feast among the softest of petals that call to him, beckoning for his return to get both of their fills.”

You are internally screaming now. You can’t believe he is tormenting you like this. You are still reaching for the book, desperate for this nightmare to end, before you hear an “oomph” as Joshua’s back collides into one of the shelves. You snatch the book from him, running back to put it back where it came from. “Okay, enough please!”

“Forgive me.” Joshua says, although it is said with a devilish grin. “I just didn’t know you had such… exquisite taste.”

“I didn’t even know what was in the book when I pulled it.” You say defensively, hands waving manically in front of you like they would make you more convincing. “I was just trying to find something that would help give me the courage.”

As if that isn’t as embarrassing, or even more so.

“What if we do something that helps us both gain courage? A practice session if you will.” Joshua says from the other side of the room, keeping his distance to see what tone you will take.

“What do you have in mind?” You draw out nervously, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation.

Joshua walks back over to where you both had sat, moving the chair so it was facing you before sitting down. He rubs his thighs a little as if he needed to warm them up, before patting his lap. “Come take a seat.”

Instinct has you taking a step forward before a hitch finds itself in your feet, stopping them all together. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks sincerely.

“Of course, I do.” You quickly blurt out, as if answering a second later would draw doubt. 

He smiles, his hand reaching out to invite you over. “Then please, my dearest, come to me.”

You take a deep breath and walk over till you stand before him. You grasp his hand, tingles running up your arm as he pulls you to him and guides you onto his lap. Your hands move to steady yourself on his shoulders, while he places his hands on your lower back to support you. Your legs dangle on either side of the chair, your gown riding up your thighs which you are all too aware of. However, you note that Joshua is only looking at you, gauging to see where your head is. “Is this okay, my lady?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, trying to calm your rapid heart. This is so intimate, too intimate, but you want it. You want him. You want to create every kind of intimacy with him, and this is a start. You knew that it is time to take that leap, especially since he will take that leap with you. 

“Joshua,” you murmur, eyes still on his. “Will you kiss me?”

“As you wish, my love.” 

You close your eyes, leaning in slightly to show that you aren’t backing out. You feel one of Joshua’s hands move to your left cheek, your branded cheek, tracing it with his thumb gently. Soon you feel him move forward, his forehead sitting against yours, his breath hitting your lips in puffs. The anticipation was killing you, your hands squeezing his shoulders to urge him on, and before you know it his lips are against your own. The kiss is light, a sweet peck before pulling away slightly, only to go back to give one more. You both are testing the waters, giving into each other slowly until the two of you start to grow peckish.

The kiss is gradual, pecks graduating to long lip locks and more movement. Your hands have found homage in Joshua’s hair, gripping not too hard but enough to show him how much you are enjoying him. His hands found their way to the crease of your hips, gripping the flesh to keep you in place. You can feel yourself growing restless, needing more of him within your senses. 

It’s like he can read your mind as his hands bring your body closer. A gasp leaves your lips as his groin settles against your heat, leaving your head spinning. His kisses become feverish, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, your nightgown receding higher in the process. You sense satiability is nowhere in sight, the movements of his body proving to you that the absence of intimate touch has turned him into a depraved man. Because even though Joshua Rosfield is a gentleman with a heart of selflessness, he is still a man with selfish desires and needs.

Your hands go back to grip at his shoulders, trying to calm yourself from his ministrations. A wetness hits your lips, and your mouth opens willingly, needing to taste him further. Your tongues melt together, creating a unique taste between the two of you that’s so addicting you don’t know how either of you will stop. You lean more into him, your hands going back to his hair to control his movements, causing him to groan in the most sinful way. You pull away, giggling knowing you got him to make such pretty sounds. The confidence from it goes straight to your head, going right back in for his lips to have him make more delicious sounds. 

A deep feral groan is released from Joshua’s throat, causing him to pull away in heavy breaths. He looks at you with hazy eyes, smiling deliriously. “You will be the death of me, my love.”

Your hands are now trailing from his hair to his chest, your hands running up and down the fabric of his tunic, feeling the toned body beneath it all. Your head leans back against his forehead, both of your breaths heavy on each other’s lips. “Then shall death keep us together, never parted.”

Joshua leans up back to your lips, kissing you hungrily, your declaration causing him to hunger for more. You still had the high ground, you being on top giving you more opportunity to take the lead. You knew this could be too soon, a little risky, but your sureness that Joshua feels the same hunger as you do is enough to convince you. You start to grind down slowly on top of him, your undergarments and his matching tunic pants the only barriers. 

“Fuck,” Joshua draws out breathless, his arms coming up to wrap around you to ground himself. 

“Does that feel good, my Lord?” You smile, feeling over the moon that you are making him act this way. 

“You have no idea.” Joshua gasps. “You have turned me into a new man.”

You giggle as you continue your movements. “Is that so?”

“By the Founder, yes!” He groans loudly at a particular movement of your hips. “How about I show you.”

Suddenly you are being lifted up, your butt settled onto a hard surface, legs spread apart by Joshua’s hips, and warm lips ravishing your own. Your nightgown is definitely way past your legs now, bunched up at your hips with Joshua’s hands right under the fabric. This new side of Joshua has you addicted, the push and pull the both of you are playing at exciting you more. You release his lips and lean up to his neck, nipping at the skin at the juncture of his neck and jaw. His breath hitches, leaning into you as you nip and kiss his neck. It’s as if he is hypnotized by your love bites, casting a spell on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but in an instant everything stops.

You open your eyes to see Joshua breathing hard, his hands gripping the table. Your hands go to his face, worry etching into your brain. “Darling, did I do something wrong?”

Joshua laughs, his eyes opening to look right back at you. “Absolutely not.” His hands go to yours on his face, holding onto each one as he brings them down. “I just don’t want to accomplish everything in one night, especially here in the Shelves.”

He pulls you up to your feet, your hands still in his as he looks at you with the brightest smile on his face. “I want to have time to savor you when the time is right.”

Even after all of that, he is still ever the gentleman. 

“I agree. I’m sorry if I went too far.” You chuckle, a tinge of embarrassment in your tone. 

Joshua embraces you, his head tucked into your neck. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you don’t think I had ulterior motives.”

“Never,” you say quickly, squeezing him to you.

“We should head back to our respective beds before people notice we’ve disappeared.” Joshua hums.

You hum in agreement and pull back, so you are now under Joshua’s arm. Both of you head out the doors of the Shelves into the cool night air. You shiver, and Joshua brings you in closer to shield you from the cold. He walks you back to the bed chambers, and before he departs, he places a light kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter close at the bliss you feel in the moment. 

“Goodnight, my dearest. I shall see you in the morning.” Joshua says after he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Joshua. But before you go, may I request something?” 

“Anything for you, my dearest.” 

“Can we practice some more later? You are my tutor after all.” And my lover, my partner for life.

Joshua beams at you. “I would love nothing more.”

[wanderingmind867]

So let me just recap briefly the history of the first joker and the first riddler. The first riddler was the guy from the telltale games. The one played by robin atkin downes who died at the end of the first chapter of the game. And the first joker is alfred stryker, some weird mutant who became a crime lord and mafioso whilst also becoming a champion of the downtrodden. Together, the riddler and the joker became enemies of the Court of Owls. But they both vanished decades ago. Nobody ever learned where they went. And they both only resurface now, just in time to strike back against the Court of Owls.

The Riddler reappears first, and he ends up dying just the same way he did in the telltale games. Except here he manages to inspire young forensic scientist Edward Nygma shortly before he does, which will inevitably lead to the birth of a second Riddler. But all that's important for right now is that the first riddler dies, and the original joker blames the Court of Owls for his death when he finds out about it. That's all that's important for this recap of my storyline.

When the original Joker breaks out, he ends up infiltrating the Court of Owls. Meanwhile, Batman is busy dealing with Doctor Phosphorus (who I forgot to mention earlier, but who was the third core component to the riddler and joker's old triad of crime). By the time Batman has stopped Doctor Phosphorus from taking revenge on the families of Hamilton Hill, Carmine Falcone and Bruce Wayne, the original joker has already learned everything he needed to learn in regards to the Court of Owls and their history. More of this is covered in my original note on him, so I don't want to discuss it again now.

But to cut to the chase, Batman finds the original joker and the court of owls headquarters just as everything's gone to hell. Alfred Stryker has been uncovered by the Court, but he's already rigged their parliament building to explode. Batman manages to save a small handful of court members, but it's too late for most of them. The whole building explodes in a fiery ball of chemically induced destruction, and the Court of Owls is no more. Their whole membership is dead. Alfred Stryker is dead, turned into dust alongside all the members of the Court. It's all over, but now Gotham is broken and in desperate need of rebuilding.

So we make a time skip to around eight months later. That's around when batman first meets Dick Grayson and takes him in as Robin. The organized crime scene in Gotham is virtually nonexistent now, so all the criminals this dynamic duo faces end up being costumed supervillians of some variety or another. The second Joker, the second Riddler, Two-Face, The Penguin, Catwoman, etc. It's not peak silver age style storytelling, and this is where i'm gonna leave this story.

I can't be bothered to write any more stuff to bridge the rest of the gap until we catch up with pre crisis 1985/1986 time, so i'm leaving this task to somebody else now. If you want to continue my worldbuilding exercise in futility, go right ahead. Talk about Ra's Al Ghul, and the birth of the second Robin (Jason Todd), and how Killer Croc killed Jason's parents, and how Nocturna became Jason's adoptive mother. But i'm done. This is too much for any one man to bear. I think I exhausted myself writing all this at school today. And also, I feel like writing all this took away from my ability to read my book as effectively at school. So yeah. I'm done. Someone else needs to finish what i've started, because i give up.

PS: The first joker is responsible for Ethan Bennett becoming one of many supervillians known as clayface. I forgot to mention that, but it's something that does happen here. I can't not have Ethan Bennett show up in my Batman story. He's similar to Harvey Dent, but he's a distinct character all his own. I feel like it's only fair I feature both of them here.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

possibly scenes between masquerade canon aka who left the two hotel grumps together who did that. don't do that. what if they start bonding and shit

Vaggie: “Okay… Angel’s off to work, and Charlie’s off to work on that… looks like it’s just us assholes here.”

Husk: “Do not lump me in with you motherfuckers.”

Vaggie: "You're literally worse than them."

Husk: "Bullshit." (swig) "And there's no them without including YOUR sorry ass too."

Vaggie: (glares) "Har. Har."

Sir Pentious: “Can WE, er, ah- sssswitch off the porn now..?”

Niffty: “No~” (kicking heels) “Let’s rewind to part where the bad boy actually EATS Angel’s ass.”

Vaggie: “Niffty- ugh, can you just, take it back to your own room?”

Niffty: “The hotel air vents don’t have a TV!”

Vaggie: “You live in the- okay. Pentious. I won’t kill you for watching me and Charlie sleep IF you rig Niffty up with her own TV somewhere that’s not the lobby.”

Sir Pentious: “Do I HAVE to ssspend time with the pessst-”

Vaggie: (punches fist into palm) "Now."

Sir Pentious: “-AH yes!!  PORN ISSS A RIGHT NONE SHOULD BE DENIED!” (scoops up nifty) “Come sssmall pessst, let uss inssstall a sssscrene for your PRIVATE viewing pleasssure!”

Niffty: (giggling) “Do you even know what privacy means-?”

Sir Pentious: “AAAHAHA OF COURSE I DO!!!” (hurriedly slithers away)   

Husk: “… and these are the fuckers you and your little miss princess are trying to rehabilitate.”

Vaggie: “That’s the plan yeah.”

Husk: “Ha! Good fucking luck.”   

Vaggie: (sigh) “Husk?”

Husk: “What?”

Vaggie: “You’re fired.”

Husk: (spits drink) “FffUCK-” (cough) “-you I’m WHAT!?”

Vaggie: “Can’t keep to the code of not talking about shit you know you weren’t supposed to hear? Fine. No more bartender therapy for you."

Husk: "You can't fucking do that."

Vaggie: "Hotel fucking manager, asshole. Watch me. From now on you serve drinks ONLY to go, NO more people sitting at your bar for you make yourself feel better listening to. Not until you treat them like people instead of a damn telenovela."

Husk: “You think I LIKE listening to you all bitching?”

Vaggie: “No. I’m saying I’m not the only self-hating bastard here who gets off on judging others.”

Husk: “Fuck you.”

Vaggie: "Wow what a comeback. Look Husk, if you’re gonna break our trust just to score points in a dumb argument then you can go get your gossip somewhere else.”

Husk: “It’s the only way I’m getting paid in this crappy place!”

Vaggie: “And who’s fault is that? Did I sell your soul to a creepy smug disc jockey?”

Husk: “You’re sure using it either way.”

Vaggie: “Can’t be judgmental without being a fucking hypocrite too, right? Might as well own it, since now everyone knows that’s my thing.”

Husk: “I was trying to help you motherfucking losers!”

Vaggie: “Like hell. Telling others how much they suck feels good doesn't it? Feels like you've got it all figured out. No reason to get your own shit together when you can point at people who're an even bigger mess than you. No, you've already learned your lesson, you fucked up but won't be making any more mistakes. At least you're not in denial over it. At least you're coping with it the right way, aren't you."

Husk: "Well you'd sure fucking know since you're doing it right now."

Vaggie: "Takes one to know one."

Husk: "Tell yourself that if it helps."

Vaggie: "Oh you wanna talk about helping? Charlie’s trying to help every one of you assholes here. She's the one opening up and risking fucking up and getting hurt trying to reach you! Not that it matters to any of you.”    

Husk: “…”

Sir Pentious: (muffled) “It matterssss to me!!!”

Vaggie: (groans) “WHAT DOES PRIVACY MEAN, PENTIOUS!?”

Sir Pentious: “….not, ah, lisssstening in from the hotel air ventilashhhtion ssssystem…?”

Niffty: “Carrrrreful. Don’t crawl through my disembowel rat corpse collection~”

Sir Pentious: (shrieking)

-later that night-

Vaggie: “Hey."

Husk: "Hey your fucking self."

Vaggie: "Angel Dust said you had a drink with him.”

Husk: “Yeah? What if he did?” (ears flattening) “He didn’t even get fucking tipsy and I’m not telling anyone what that loser would’ve said to me while drunk off his ass anyway. I don’t hate you motherfuckers that much.”

Vaggie: (smiles) “Yeah. I know.”

Husk: “…. your miss princess asleep?”

Vaggie: “Technically she’s in bed. Angel Dust came over for a sleepover girls night and I kicked Pentious out of a shadowy corner to join them. You seen Niffty?”

Husk: “No. Sounds like she’s still enjoying that shitty film though.”

Vaggie: “Sounds like? What-”

Husk: “Shh. Listen.”

Vaggie: “…… are the air vents..”

Husk: “Moaning.”

Vaggie: “That’s Angel Dust’s moaning. That’s his work moan- Fuck, I never wanted to know what that sounded like- but does that means the hotel ventilation system is-?”

Husk: “Piping hot garbage throughout the hotel like hell’s shittiest surround sound.”  

Vaggie: “Great.”

Husk: “Hope your princess is ready for the audiobook.”

Vaggie: “Ugggghhhh.”

Husk: “Drink?”

Vaggie: “Just break the bottle over my head....”

Husk: “Fuck no.” (grins) “I’m not wasting a whole bottle on you.”

Vaggie: “Pour it out for yourself then. Tonight you’ve earned it.”

Husk: “Earned what, a fucking hangover?”

Vaggie: (rolls eye) “Just drink up, old man. I’ll drag you back to your room and toss you in when you’re done getting drunk off your own ass.”

Husk: “Huh!”

Vaggie: “I also won’t tell your princess he left you smiling like a dumbass for the rest of the night either.”

Husk: (opens bottle) “You better fucking not...” (swigs) (still smiling)

[callmearcturus]

✈️

so this is a remix/companion piece to a fic @arquiving is working on. we're using a lot of the same assets, telling different stories. you should all know the epigraph at the start is:

"Hey, Austin?" "Yeah?" "Do you wanna know what the weak point of a mech is?" "Yeah, what's the weak point of a mech?" "The fucking pilot."

— Jack de Quidt, Austin Walker, The Road To PARTIZAN

The story is, basically

I actually have no idea how to explain it, so here's some excerpts I wrote for either my version of the story or @arquiving

\\\ PATCH NOTES FOR F-14 MECHANIZED COMBAT APPARATUS MCA-012, DESIGNATION MAVERICK.

Retrofitting to F18 specs completed July 02, 2022. Comms upgrade completed, along with hardware alterations to accommodate them. Engine upgraded from V9.0 to V10.8 dual-compatible.

Retrofit marked SUCCESSFUL with following caveats:

> Cockpit depth within apparatus reduced but not currently within acceptable range for F18 safety compliance. Upgrade partially complete.

> Standardized rigging of anchor lines found repeatedly incompatible with apparatus chassis. Adjusted anchor line mounts engineered. Fourth iteration of improvised mounts found to be stable. Report from MCA Technician Corp suggests "do not adjust again, no better options found, current setup slightly precarious." Upgrade partially complete.

> After seven attempts to introduce new SC-84-18990 formulation, discovered Apparatus anatomy will not tolerate new compliant Seele conductant and will forcibly expel through vents, requiring full decontamination and cleaning. See appendix 17 for  further detail. Upgrade declined.

> Attempts to remove secondary cockpit failed. Upgrade declined.

> Attempts to install automated secondary cockpit violently rejected by apparatus anatomy. Upgrade declined.

MCA-012, designation MAVERICK, classified as single-pilot apparatus. Please note WSO "second seat" is present but is not to be used under any circumstances. See Warrant Office Coleman with any inquiries.

=

Bradley remembered when the Naming happened.

It was kind of funny, the way the Navy had gotten first crack at the Exclusion Zones. When Bradley was back in Basic, it was a frequent point of discussion and low-brow humor. When Phoenix— just Nat back then— had mentioned she was getting sent to the Tanager Outpost, Bradley had asked her if she was packing a swimsuit.

"It's 300 miles from any body of water," Nat had groused. "Remember when we were the boat people, Bradshaw?"

Truly, Bradley didn't, and he knew Nat didn't either. Both of them were too young to remember before the Zones appeared. The Navy of old existed on celluloid and in history books. Hell, back when Bradley was in high school, the textbooks hadn't even been updated with all that shit. He wondered if kids in AP World History had to learn the names of the Zones or the order they had opened in.

But that may have been 300 years ago for all that it mattered now.

Bradley had always hoped he'd get assigned to the mech corps when he was in Annapolis. Between his last name and the fact he had Admiral Kazansky's phone number in his contacts, he thought he might get in. But Bradley also knew how few MCAs existed, and the Navy didn't let you opt-into the pilot program. You either passed the aptitude test or you didn't.

The test had been a fucking blood test. Someone took four vials of his blood and walked away with them, and nobody told him shit.

Everyone's results were classified.

Bridewell was not the first base Bradley had been stationed at, but the third, after Yokosuka. He'd put in his time watching monitors as Seresin ran underwater drills in his MCA, keeping an eye on the sync rate.

He'd been on duty when Seresin had broken the 90 percent threshold and had started laughing over his monitor. "Yokosuka, tell the techs to break out the stencils and spray paint. MCA-zero-four-niner's designation is HANGMAN."

Of course it had been HANGMAN. "How the hell do you deal with that cockpit," Rooster had asked Hangman over ice cold asahi at the local pilot bar.

"Ain't as bad as it looks," Hangman had said with an almost fond smile. "I know my boy's going to protect me."

"Boy?" Bradley grew up hearing men call their favorite car milady and ships were still consider old broads. The specificity had caught his ear.

"Hm? Yeah. Or, closer to that than anything." Hangman had tilted his bottle against the tabletop, letting it roll along the curve of the glass. "They don't tell you that part. Maybe because most of the people writing the manual can't break a fifty on their synch ratio, so they don't even know. But the mech has ideas of what it is. You just gotta listen."

After Yokosuka, Bradley was back in the states, Bridewell Forward Operating Base, right outside of the Gateway Exclusion Zone. No one called it St. Louis anymore, just Bridewell if you were military or Gateway if you were a civilian.

Bradley was piloting MCA-059 when it all went to shit. 059 was an odd bird, slow ambulation with its awkward hip joints, but the legs were… different. As his sync rate climbed, he could feel the massive shock absorbers around his ankles, how his femurs were hydraulics. 059 was fitted for urban landscapes, it was built to actually maneuver around the buildings and the streets.

Shutting his eyes, Bradley inhaled, mouth and lungs full of Seele conductant. Holding it inside, he listened to the low thudding ping of his sync ratio rising. He counted until his synch settled at 57 percent.

"Lieutenant," his comms officer hailed over the radio. "We have a report from the tower, there's a fluctuation over by the riverside, south of the I-65."

"What kind of fluctuation? Something big wander out?" The majority of his work around Gateway was just making sure nothing from the Zone crossed the Mississippi. Plenty of people still insisted on living in Gateway for reasons Bradley had never understood. 

"Information is currently incomplete, but marked as urgent. Setting guidance."

Coordinates updated in the cockpit, and Bradley felt the faint tug of that way, already pulling his mech around. Turning his grip on the controls, 069 sank down, sinking below the skyline. At 30 percent power, Bradley let the line snap like releasing a rubber band, and he launched up into the air.

Wind rushed by him as he soared in a narrow arc, landing on a rooftop. From here, he could see down the river.

"What the hell is that?" he murmured as the opalline green-blue sheen of the Zone wall curled and twisted into nonsensical kaleidoscopes.

He had eyes on it when the wall just ruptured, split like a worn seam. Underneath was more shimmering Zone wall, spilling out from the break like silk in water, spurting across the river. As it landed on the Missouri-side, it filled out, the wrinkles smoothing out as it stretched.

"Zone wall anomaly, the Zone has breached the river boundary," Bradley called out, twisting his throttle sharply. 059's thighs folded down into its calves, pressure building.

This time Bradley didn't aim up, he pushed forward, rocketing over to anomaly with such force, his body slammed back fully into his pilot's seat.

It was the Gateway Zone Expansion, the first of its kind. Usually Zones didn't get wider, just deeper.

Much later, Bradley would be questioned extensively about what he saw, the shape of the growth, how quickly it had spread and whether the spread had felt directed, bullshit like that. But in the moment, Bradley hurled himself and his mech into action.

There was no way to stop the expansion, so Bradley followed it, spire jumping along the boundary. As FRM began to wander out into the city streets, he fell on them, grasping every weird-ass creature with his metal hands and redirecting them back into the veil.

His brain was alight with waypoints and blooms of information, and he continued the crash his thousand-ton body into the streets, the hydraulic tension in his legs becoming easier to take each time.

There was no moment of epiphany, no trip through the Star Gate, just— ROOSTER. He felt the connection like a breeze through his hair. MCA-059 was ROOSTER, or they were ROOSTER, it was complicated.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, your synchronicity is unstable. Please return to baseline," a MCA technician said over the comms.

"I'm fine," Rooster said. "I— I just, it was the thing, I—" He glanced over at the monitor.

72%. Personal best. He breathed in and felt his chest expand, his shoulders rolling back, the accentuators powering, shifting the mech's limbs with him.

He exhaled slowly. "Uh, status update. MCA-059 should probably be designated ROOSTER. Yeah, Re-engaging FRM." Twisting the throttle, he soared.

=

\\US NAVAL MECHANIZED COMBAT APPARATUS CORPS TOPSHEET \\CANDIDATE PROFILE \\LT BRADLEY BRADSHAW

STATIONED AT BRIDEWELL NAVAL FORWARD BASE, OUTSIDE THE GATEWAY EXCLUSION ZONE

MCA Pilot Proficiency Test conducted during tenure at Annapolis. Results in second percentile. Stationed with MCA Corp to monitor for future placement.

Assigned to Gateway Perimeter Guard and on duty during an unexplained Zone expansion. Earned multiple commendations for efforts aiding civilian evacuation and redirecting FRMs away from evacuation routes.

Permanently assigned to MCA-059, "ROOSTER."

Recommended for Special Detachment by Admiral Thomas Kazansky. Reassignment to Tanager Outpost pending.

[jaymoriarty-knight]

So if I remember things right, in the Daredevil show Foggy learns how to do stitches from Claire, right?

So consider Foggy giving Marc/Steven/Jake stitches, even if they don't technically need them, with Khonshu's healing suit and all. I still think it could be a cute bonding moment. Scene under the cut

"Oh damn it all to hell!" Marc Spector was frustrated. He was waiting in Matt's office at Nelson and Murdock. He'd dropped the mug of coffee he'd been drinking on the floor. The mug had shattered, of course, and the coffee was pooling on the floor.

Marc gave an irritated sigh and knelt down to clean up the broken ceramic. He wasn’t paying very much attention, though, and split his palm open with one of the larger, sharper shards.

"Fuck!" Marc instinctually pulled his sleeve over his hand, trying to stem the flow of blood. The pain was hardly the worst thing Marc had ever felt, but it still stung.

"You uh... you okay?" Foggy peeked into Matt's office, having heard Marc curse. He saw the blood seeping through Marc's sleeve and cursed himself, "aw fuck. Hang on I'll grab the first aid kit."

Foggy disappeared leaving Marc slightly confused about what had just happened. What was Foggy going to do about his bloodied hand?

Foggy returned a moment later, sitting on the floor next to Marc and saying, "can I see your hand?"

Marc tensed. "Why?"

"I can help. I've given Matt stitches and stuff. I wanted to help him with y'know his Daredevil stuff."

Marc's expression was wary and tense, but he held his hand out to Foggy. Foggy gently tugged the sleeve back and examined the cut.

"Jesus. You sure did a number on your hand. It probably needs stitches. I mean, I'm not a doctor, so I don’t know for sure, but that looks really deep."

"It's fine."

Foggy shook his head. He opened the first aid kit and pulled out a needle and medical thread. He threaded it easily and held Marc's wrist. "Can you hold your hand open for me?"

Marc arched an eyebrow but stretched his hand open. The motion tugged on the open cut, and Marc gave a hiss of pain.

"Sorry," Foggy murmured. He started Marc's stitches. Marc stayed still throughout the process and Foggy gave Marc's hand five stitches. "Man you really cut open your hand. What happened?"

Marc's instinct was to yank his hand away and tell Foggy it's none of his business. Instead he took a deep breath and replied, "dropped the mug. I went to clean it up but split my hand open."

"Oh. You could have asked for help, you know."

Marc wanted to say Foggy sounded condescending, but he truly sounded sincere.

"I didn't realize you were still here. I was just waiting for Matt."

"I was doing some paperwork." Foggy shrugged. "And might have lost track of time."

Marc nodded. "Thank you for the stitches."

"No problem. I wanted to help Matt, right? So I gotta practice and stuff." Foggy chewed the inside of his cheek. "And he likes you so... not big on the idea of letting you get hurt."

"Very appreciated," Marc deadpanned.

Foggy sighed, "c'mon don't be like that."

"Like what?"

"Your whole broody vigilante thing. It doesn't work for Matt, and it's not going to work for you."

Marc allowed himself to smile. He really did enjoy Foggy's company. "Alright, alright."

Foggy gave a small laugh. "He's really fond of you, you know?"

"I...I have an inkling." Marc hesitated to admit it. "We've...talked about it."

"Oh yeah?"

"We kissed actually."

"Oh yeah?" Foggy's voice turned teasing.

"Just once. On a rooftop." Marc flexed his hand and kissed in pain.

"Let me wrap that." Foggy took Marc's wrist again and started wrapping gauze around Marc's palm. Marc was surprised to find the confidence that Foggy did it with and the accuracy.

When Foggy was finished securing Marc's stitches he looked at his companion. "So you kissed Matt. What's that mean for you guys?"

"We're... talking about being boyfriends."

"Talking about it?"

"I...I have something I need to tell him but I'm not sure how to tell him about it."

"But you guys really like each other, right? So just be honest with him. I'm sure whatever it is won't change things too much or anything."

"It's just...Foggy, can I be honest with you?"

"I prefer that to lies." Foggy shrugged. "You can tell me."

"I have..." Marc took a deep breath. "I have disassociative identity disorder. I have two other identities, and neither you nor Matt have met either of my identities."

"Oh."

Marc fidgeted while he waited for more of a response.

"Did you do that intentionally? Keep Matt and I from meeting your other identities?"

"Kind of... I got nervous about it. I...I mostly worried about, well, what if Matt likes Steven or Jake more than me? What if Matt decided he didn't want to deal with that?"

"Oh come on. You can't seriously think that of Matt. You can't think he wouldn't support you."

"I...I figured I lost my luck with Layla accepting me. I mean... She knew about Steven, and I figured that that was all I'd ever get in terms of acceptance."

"Matt will be fine with it. He's gonna support all of you, that's just who he is. He’s not going to turn you away just because you have a difference."

"Thank you Foggy. That helps a lot." Marc felt a sense of relief. "I'm going ro talk to him about it soon."

"Let Matt meet... you said Steven and Jake? Let Matt meet them. I'm sure he'll still love you."

Marc looked up, startled. "Love—"

"Yeah. Love. He loves you."

Marc nodded. "Thank you Foggy."

@kityri-imera

Thank you to @loonymeowny for the idea of having Marc be nervous about introducing Steven and Jake to Matt!

[anemicjellyfish]

WIP I Write Fics in the Laundry Room Wednesday!

Yeah, I don't have much to share for WIP Wednesday. So, I figured I'd post the Helluva Boss dream I had the other night.

This can take place pretty much any time within the current timeline of HB. The only changes I made from the dream were mostly dialogue additions and making the scenery more consistent. I hope you enjoy!

IMP Gets a Nintendo Switch- A silly Helluva Boss ficlet

As shady, slimy, and selfish as Greed is, it does at least have the largest entertainment center in Hell. Mammon's Middlehand Multiplier houses dozens of games, arcades, casinos, and everything in between.

Just ignore a few dozen or so dead loan sharks out back, keep your wallet secure, and have a fantastic time (because the slot machines definitely aren't rigged against you)!

As the owner and founder of IMP, it has always been Blitzø's responsibility to keep his business afloat. Which is why it is especially disappointing for him to have gambled away most of his savings today. After finally getting kicked out of a kiosk for shoving cards down the dealer's throat, Blitzø began to search for the two employees he brought with him today.

Except this sinful shithole is built like a maze. Stalls and kiosks litter the walkways, competing for space with larger establishments along the way. It reminds Blitzø of the disgusting shopping malls on Earth. He finds himself a little grateful that he rarely gets clients that make him wander through department stores and aromatherapy massages.

Blitzø finally manages to track down his two employees. Moxxie is excitedly showing off a small cardboard box to his wife, Millie, who watches him with her eyes full of stars.

"Blitzø!" Moxxie calls out. "Win anything big today, sir?"

Blitzø rolls his eyes. "Eh, you win some, you lose some." Blitzø pats the empty wallet in his back pocket, not willing to admit to himself just how much he didn't win. "Damn, Moxx, whatcha got there? Tell me it's some fancy weapon!"

"Even better," Moxxie replies, holding up the blank cardboard box, "it's the most elegant string instrument ever made: a violin."

Blitzø's eyebrow raises. "Uhh, vio-lence?"

"Blitzø," Millie interjects, "it's for playing music. Moxxie's gonna learn to play for me."

It was as if little pink hearts appeared between the married couple as Millie gives her husband a kiss on the cheek.

"Ugh," Blitzø complains, "save your lovey-dovey shit for your stupid vanilla bedroom, you two. Now, let's get outta this shithole before I lose more than just my money."

Moxxie frowns, but allows Millie to take his hand and lead him forward, the box only partially obstructing his view.

Blitzø looks around the labyrinth. Fuck, finding their way out is gonna take all night.

As Blitzø turns to M&M, he clocks a shark eyeing them from afar. Something in that fucker's expression put Blitzø on edge, but he continues forward. Turn after turn, the shark keeps pace with them. Blitzø taps his tail on Moxxie's, then Millie's: a silent signal to them that the team is being "tailed," literally.

The three imps nod to one another and split up. Mammon's Middlehand Multiplier was a large enough complex to allow for a few dark alleyways here and there, with enough vantage points for a skilled assassin to keep watch on a situation, should they need to.

When it was clear that the shark was following Moxxie, Blitzø and Millie made sure to corner him in a narrow spot between an aisle of empty claw machines and a partially burnt casino.

The shark is already trying to pry the box from Moxxie's hands when Blitzø places a hard kick to the back of his head.

"Okay, fuckface!" Blitzø shouts. "Leave my employee and his stupid-ass vio-lence music thing alone!"

Millie rushes to Moxxie's side, helping him up from the ground as he gathers the now-torn box in his hands.

"Listen here, asshole imp!" The shark replies, rubbing the side of his head. "I'm getting that shit back to my boss now, and I'm not gonna let three little shits stop me!"

"Well," Blitzø fires back, "I'm these little shit's boss, and I ain't letting nothing happen to them or their stupid little music strings!"

The shark laughs. "Music? Your stupid employee took the wrong prize, dipshit. I'm taking it back where it belongs."

Moxxie looks into the holes of the box. "Oh, crumbs... this isn't a violin at all!"

"Is that..." Millie trails off as she, too, looks into the box. "Oh, FUCK YEAH, we are keeping this!!"

As the shark lunges toward them, Blitzø grabs his gun from his coat pocket. The shark freezes, and after a heated standoff between them, he relents.

"Fine. I guess I can just steal another Switch from someone else. You three fucks aren't worth my time."

The shark slinks off, but not before tripping Blitzø with his tailfin on the way out of the alley.

"The fuck's a Switch?" Blitzø asks.

"It's a video game system from the living world," Millie explains, "with all kinds of fun games installed!"

Moxxie holds the box in his hands, silent.

"Oooooh," Blitzø replies, "is that the Mario Kart thing that a client hired us to kill a guy over last month?"

"Sure is!" Millie said.

"Alright!" Blitzø shouts, lifting a disappointed Moxxie into the air. "Let's get our asses back to the office and play ourselves some games worth killing for!!"

Millie chases Blitzø and her husband through various sections of the entertainment center, eager to take first place in any game they play.

She'd already won the best prizes any imp could ask for: a great boss, a fun job, and the most wonderful husband anyone could ask for.

[snurtsnurtcreations]

COD MW2 Rewrite, i guess

Anywho, I choose to be delusional and not accept how half assed the Graves betrayal was in Cod MW2. This is all based on some gripes I talked about in this post

Here’s what ACTUALLY happens in Cod MW2 (source: me)

Shadows assist 141 and Los Vaqueros and capture Hassan Zyani. Graves pushes hard to interrogate the guy, screw the laws, why else hire a PMC if not to forego those, right? No one needs to know besides the wilderness, yeah? Laswell insists that it would be a declaration of war, and the others reluctantly agree with her, following orders. Graves keeps pushing on it -even getting physical with Hassan- until Shepherd gives the final say-so to let him go. Graves is visibly irked and disappointed.

Laswell snagged info from Hassan’s phone on a possible location for where the missiles might have been, or currently may be at. Bam, ghillie suit mission. While there, 141 finds intel on where the second missile could be headed, a certain oil rig - however Laswell gets caught. Price and Gaz team up with ULF to save Laswell, meanwhile Shadows, Ghost, Soap, & Los Vaqueros are sent to the oil rig to capture or destroy the missile. Things go spectacularly, everyone's getting along, missile is destroyed, Laswell is saved, we get a lil hint at Russian involvement with the tracking thing or whatever… ok. There’s still one more missile, now we need to find either Hassan (again) or El Sin Nombre.

They find the house of one of El Sin Nombre’s lieutenants. It’s a fat chance, really, but it’s the only lead they’ve got at the moment. Soap volunteers to go, and Alejandro goes with him, Ghost sets up in sniper position, Shadow copters are on standby. But… something goes wrong. As soon as the guards find dead bodies (courtesy of Soap after the interrogation), Valeria makes a run for it. Soap and Alejandro follow, because that sicario is their main lead atm. They follow the lone car she gets into, but the copter sees a multiple other vehicles leaving the opposite way - and they assume that’s gotta be where El Sin Nombre went.

So the copter follows the car caravan, while Soap, Alejandro, and a disheveled Ghost dropping his sniper point to catch up to them follow the lone car into the wilderness… where radio signal gets choppy. The three lose contact with the Shadows, but they’re hot on the trail of Valeria. Through the wilderness and then into a small town, and unassuming warehouse… must be a safehouse or something. They sneak in, learn that Valeria is El Sin Nombre.

Meanwhile, Shadows followed the car caravan, and found it had nothing of value that would give them the intel they wanted. Now Graves is getting desperate, not to mention they’ve lost all contact with the 141 and Alejandro. A call with Shepherd, and the general is planting a seed of doubt that perhaps Alejandro was working with the drug lord… after all, look at all the corrupt Mexican military doing just that? What sets Alejandro apart from the rest? Hell, he might have killed the 141 and is living out his best life right now… wouldn’t they have gotten into contact with him by now if they were alive and well? Anyway, that’s besides the point, right now they need to find that missile. You were given a mission, Commander Graves, and I’d suggest you complete it at any cost. Take over the base if that’s what it takes.

Graves has a chat with Rodolfo and learns that Rodolfo and Alejandrio used to know and work with this Valeria character. And damn if that doesn’t settle it for Graves. He’s not about to let his Shadows be stabbed in the back (again).

So Graves has his Shadows capture Alejandro’s base (Rodolfo gets away). He starts going through every corrupt military personnel he can find, any corrupt police… they need to find Hasan and they’re going to do it, no matter the cost. He’s got no qualms about committing a few war crimes to get what he wants - he’s a PMC after all. He also puts out a little side note to all his operatives: if they catch sight of Alejandro, catch him dead or alive. They know his preference… (alive. He wants to have a good long chat with him, find out what happened to Ghost and Soap. Those were good men, damnit, they deserve a proper funeral at least)

The three out in the field don’t know this. They bide their time, check out what’s going on around the warehouse, what the security measures are… and then ghey strike. They catch Valeria and commandeer a vehicle to shove her into. Alejandro gets a vehicle of his own and drives ahead as lookout, they kill some cartel folks on the way there, it’s smooth going. Base is in sight. They get stopped at the gate. Alejandro’s incredibly confused about the Shadows manning his gate instead of his soldiers. What Ghost and Soap see from their seats is Alejandro coming out of the car a little irritated and confused, and then he’s suddenly being detained with guns pointed at him.

Assuming they’ve been betrayed, Ghost immediately backs up and screeches outta there (“Trouble in paradise?” Valeria snarks). A couple shots from the Shadows follow them out, and whaddaya know, one of the bullets hits a tire. The vehicle careens outta control, and the 141 boys decide to book it on foot, splitting up. Ghost takes Valeria, SOap tries to lead the Shadows away. He loses them in the streets. Cue the alone mission except as they leave Ghost has a knocked out Valeria thrown over his shoulder. They make it out of the city, peel out, and meet Rodolfo at the safe house.

Rodolfo tells them Graves has gone insane, siccing the Shadows on Alejandro’s troops, convinced they’re working with the cartel - supposedly with Shepherd’s approval. Rudy admits they’d thought the two had died. He’s… very surprised to see Valeria too. They decide they can’t trust anyone, they need to get Alejandro out, it’s their best hope at surviving this mess, not to mention cracking Valeria and getting that intel on the missiles.

Meanwhile, Graves has contacted Price and out of respect, as one commander to another, informs him about the loss of his two soldiers, and that they’ve got the traitor Alejandro in custody (“sick bastard won’t even admit what they did to ‘em”). This greatly perturbs Price, but with no confirmation of bodies he keeps his walls and hopes up, says he’ll be down there as soon as he can. Graves starts interrogating Alejandro, who is adamant about being wronged, that the two are still alive, and they got Valeria, and Valeria’ got info on the missiles, and they gotta stop wasting time on him when they’re all out there, and who the fuck do you think you are, Graves!

And then Graves gets a call from Shepherd. With Price on his way to Las Almas, he’s getting too close for Shepherd’s comfort to finding out why the missiles are out in the first place. The General orders Graves finish off the 141 when they get there.

And now there’s two routes we can take from here, the delulu Graves is still a good guy route, or the closer-to-canon Graves is bad guy route,

Either 1) Graves agrees and gets off the call, but he’s bluffing. He’s got no intention on following those orders. He realizes he never should have trusted Shepherd. He doesn’t care about covering up the lost missiles, it’s not on his neck if anyone finds that out. In fact, if he had gotten some reinforcements when he’d asked the General, they wouldn’t be in this situation and his men might still be alive, so excuse him if he’s a little salty about Shepherd’s whole plan.

He cares about the missing missiles because he knows how bad it’s gonna be in the wrong hands and he knows the target would likely be his home U S of A, and he’s determined not to let that happen.

He realizes Alejandro was probably telling the damn truth and Graves was too stubborn to listen. Graves lets Alejandro out, but not his men, still not quite fully trusting them. He entreats Alejandro to let him know where Soap and Ghost might be, but without his men’s freedom, Alejandro is standoffish and not willing to cooperate.

Soap Ghost and Rudy break into the place just like in the game, kill a bunch of shadows, break out the Mexican special forces, and Captain Price saves their asses near the end.

Later, Price receives a call from Graves “What the fuck, man? So many of my men are dead or injured!? Listen, this is all one hell of a misunderstanding. Not once have I knowingly fired on your men until they fired on us. Shepherd fucking put out a hit on your men just now and I chose to forego those orders. I’m trying to understand what the hell’s going on out here just as much as you are, Captain.”

Alejandro begrudgingly backs up Graves’ words - the man did seem to genuinely believe Alejandro had killed Soap and Ghost and he had come clean to him about the hit Shepherd put on their heads. Alejandro demands his base back and Graves  is cooperative, so long as he gets to stay on the mission and talk to Valeria. 

The shadows pull out of the base, only a small force remains, and Mexican special forces take back their posts in the base. There’s obvious tension between the two forces, some bad blood, but overall they’re still on the same team.

Price is positively brimming with anger. Gets on that call with Shepherd. Gets mad about the hit put on them, but doesn’t allude anything to them being in cahoots against Shepherd now.

The others go to interrogate Valeria. The 141 are trying to ask her but she’s not cooperating until Graves does the “before I show you the difference between military and me” line

They find out about the missile in Chicago and go save the day.

Or 2) Graves reluctantly decides to follow orders, since it is Shepherd who’s paying for everything. Graves doesn’t let Alejandro out. Focuses on trying to find Valeria or Hassan. Alejandro and his men get rescued, and while that’s happening, Graves and his shadows have found Valeria in the safehouse and have taken her in for interrogation. Graves now has twice the reason to kill the 141 - both due to Shepherd’s orders and because they’ve killed so many of his men. They attack his base just like in the game, and he tries to escape with the remote tank, just like in the game, and yadda yadda yadda.

Anyways yeah I just think that would fix so many plot holes about motivations and whatnot that I had a hard time wrapping my head around in the game. Like the original Graves betrayal scene made zero sense to me. Like they could have made it at least understandable what the motivations are but noooo. We could have gotten really interesting looks into how an ally can become an enemy through assumptions, miscommunications, clashing values and goals- looked into how different ways to reach the same goal causes conflict…. It could have been really cool if they’d focused on that a bit more instead of just very, very suddenly forcing the Shadows to be bad guys for… no particular reason, really? 

This way, we leave off on tense but kinda sorta allied terms with Shadow Company, Shepherd is still a traitorous ass, the 141 are the heroes that save the day, hip hip hooray, and then we introduce Makarov back in.

[milestonekestrel]

I want to hear more about your interpretation/ version of Addair because he is very interesting to me and for some reason I have grown attached to him........ I hate him so much and I want him to suffer because I like him a lot... ya know

OOH OK!!

Addair. I love this guy. I have a lot of thoughts about him lets see...

(cw for abuse)

Well, I´ve already talked about my family headcanons for the guy. But basically, his father and mother never really loved each other. They were kind of a ¨make each other worse¨ kind of couple. His father was an abusive prick and his mother a bystander. She was barely there, for Addair.. for life. They divorced after things got.. really bad (his mother was hospitalized), and his father got custody. His mother remained a bystander.

Addair grew up mostly underneath his father. He learned to follow orders or get hurt. He learned this from his father. He learned everything from his father. He didn’t get out of the situation until 17, and his father never really left him.

On the rig, you really don´t get a good introduction to the guy. There was an Addair post I remember, about how many people don´t spend long enough looking into him. They see the National Front poster (which is.. I mean yeah tbf it´s not great) and decide ¨well fuck this guy.¨ I don´t, by any means, think he´s a great guy. But, I do think he´s a human. You see, he has an interesting way of looking at his childhood trauma. in that he.. doesn´t. He just thinks that everything´s going to be fine now. Willful ignorance turns into blindness, and this is why he sits alone. There are parts of his father that never leave him. Seventeen years of conforming and following orders, seventeen years of conditioning don´t exactly just disappear. But Addair thinks it will. He thinks that making a vow to not be like his father is enough. and. boom. trauma solved.

and on some level he knows, he knows he has built a dam out of paper. This is why he acts the way he does. he can´t handle criticism of himself because its true. Because he wants to be right because going back to those seventeen years is painful. going back to those seventeen years is too painful. He has kids now. he has a family. he wants to be good for them. he wants to be a better man for them. and on some level, he is. He is a loving father. But it is almost like a disguise. it is the dam, and the dam is made of paper, and things are always getting through. So he lashes out, he can´t take jokes, and he is, frankly, a terribly mean person. On the rig, he has no family to be better for. He loses connection with that, a little bit. and he misses them and that makes it worse.

He´s been on the rig so long, isolated and angry. and it´s only getting worse, and he’s miserable and looking for someone to blame.

Enter Caz. Caz is an inexperienced man who manages to win the crew over quickly. Roy likes him, and most of the crew like Roy, so they like Caz too. Caz has never worked on a rig before, and Addair knows this. And yet, and yet he is so popular. With the crew. Even Rennick admits he respects him. So Addair takes it all out on him! He hates that man, so much, and not even for a good reason. He hates Caz so much that when he is in danger of drowning, actual, mortal danger, Addair can’t let it go. He can’t let that pettiness go. And he’s damn lucky Brodie and Douglas were there, because maybe he could tell himself he would be okay if Caz had died. Hell, maybe he can tell himself Caz should’ve died. But Caz didn’t. Addair doesn’t truly know what it would’ve been like if Caz had. If he came up dead, or worse, not at all. It's easy to say things, but the situation is not real to him, and thus he can´t accurately judge his reactions. It's easy to do things, like walk away, when you've no frame of reference for consequences or aftermath. Maybe he's a prick, and maybe he hates Caz, and maybe he wouldn't lose sleep over it or anything. But he's not going to feel right about it. 

But Caz lives. And Addair gets to keep being angry. And the anger is what makes him so violent. He's not just angry. As a human, he's confused, miserable, and he misses his family. (he misses them very much, and yet he works through the holidays. And yet he barely calls them. And in this way he is like his mother) But he's angry, too. And he´s fucking furious when he´s infected. And that's why he's so violent. 

And that’s why he throws himself in front of the flare at the stack. Because he’s so angry. Because he wants to hurt Caz. 

And that’s why he falls off the stack into the ocean. And that’s why no one saves him. 

[rems-writing]

Thar he goes

Pairing: siren!Wooyoung x sailor!reader

Summary: Back on my OUAT bullshit lol

Warning(s): slight mentions of almost drowning, Wooyoung being clingy

Genre: Cracked out fluff

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

"BRING BACK THE MERMAID!"

"AND WHAT?! YOU'LL WIN HER OVER WITH YOUR RAINBOW KISSES AND UNICORN STICKERS?!"

"MAYBE THAT'S WHAT WE KIND OF FUCKING NEED RIGHT NOW!"

"SHUT UP, YOU USELESS SAILOR!"

Ooh. You had enough of Regina's bullshit. You let go of the rigging and tackled the Evil Queen. Surprised by this, she tried to blast you away with her magic yet you were quicker and smarter. You placed a black leather cuff on her wrist and when she tried to flick her hand, no magic came out.

"HA! MAYBE NOW YOU'LL LEARN THAT ALL MAGIC IS USELESS SO FIGHT ME LIKE A WOMAN, BITCH!"

"WHY YOU - "

Regina tackled you but you sidestepped just in time for the Queen to actually tackle Mary Margaret (Snow White) instead. You cackled at the two women throwing hands at each other until you felt something sharp being pointed at your back. You turned around to see David (Charming) angrily pointing a sword at you.

"YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE! ARE YOU ON REGINA'S SIDE OR OURS?!"

"I'M ON THE SIDE OF LIVING, YOU BASTARD! DON'T POINT THAT THING AT ME!"

"BREAK UP THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM NOW!"

"LET THE SLAGS HASH IT OUT, YOU WHINY PRINCE! GOD YOU WERE SO MUCH BETTER WHEN YOU WERE ABOUT TO FILLET THAT BITCH!"

"DON'T CALL MY WIFE A SLAG!"

David charged at you and you sidestepped quickly once more, regretting it slightly when he ran into your captain by accident.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL, Y/N?!"

"SORRY, HOOK! WELL... NOT REALLY! YOU DESERVE IT!"

"FOR WHAT?!"

"FOR MAKING ME GO THROUGH THIS CRAP!"

Hook was now charging at you with his sword in his hand. Realizing the 'oh shit i fucked up' moment, you grabbed a rope and swung over to where Emma was trying to keep the Jolly Roger steady.

"EMMA, YOU'RE THE ONLY TOLERABLE ONE AT THE MOMENT SO I'MMA WARN YOU RIGHT NOW! WE'RE HEADING INTO DANGEROUS TERRITORY!"

"WHAT COULD BE MORE DANGEROUS THAN THIS STORM?!"

As if on cue, singing voices could be heard from the depths of the sea. The rest of the group stopped fighting and stood still as the singing voices grew louder and louder. Only you and Emma could resist the singing, which would explain the apprehension on her face as eight men appeared on the boat after a brief flash of lightening passed by.

"SHIT!"

You quickly ran down to the group and your eyes widened when you saw one of them reach out to caress Mary's face with webbed hands.

"HANDS OFF, SCALY MOTHERFUCKERS!"

You shoved him to the side and felt his catlike eyes pierce your soul.

"I'M SORRY! YOU'LL THANK ME LATER!"

You slapped her, then Regina, then David, and finally, your captain. Emma grew shocked as they tried to snap out of it.

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?!"

"IT WAS EITHER THAT OR THEY ALL DIE FROM EITHER DROWING OR A SINGLE BITE!"

"THEY'RE STILL HERE! WHAT SHOULD WE DO?!"

"PROTECT THEM AS THEY SNAP BACK TO REALITY! I'M GOING WITH THEM!"

"I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO WITH A BUNCH OF SIRENS!"

"JUST TRUST ME!"

With that, you dove off the ship and the sirens followed you in after, almost drowning you in the process when they dove in. The last thing you could recall was a mop of dark hair hovering over your sinking body.

---------------------------------------------------

"Unicorn stickers? Seriously?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what Regina said to Snow."

A high-pitched laugh, followed by other laughs, filled the hollow siren grove while you retold the story of how that mermaid basically caused chaos aboard the ship.

You didn't necessarily drown. You only pretended to drown so you could escape the chaos of those enchanted forest crackheads and your equally stupid captain. You felt scaly arms wrap around you and a chin land on your shoulder and you looked down to see your favorite siren with the witch cackle he emitted earlier.

"Yes, Wooyoung?"

"I want attention."

"But you already have it."

"Well I want more~"

His whines and pout made the other seven sirens groan in annoyance and you hushed them. The siren with the cat eyes then asked something.

"So what will happen once they stop Peter Pan? Will you help them escape Neverland?"

"Perhaps. But they seriously need to work together if the Savior wants to save that son of hers."

"Speaking of which, how did she not know that Neal's real name was Baelfire?"

"San, be for real. Imagine you're on a date in that Land without Magic and a man introduces themself with the name Baelfire. Besides, after going through that portal, he's gotta blend in somehow."

"Ok ok. Lemme follow up with this. How did August, or Pinocchio I should say, know that Neal is Baelfire?"

You thought about that for a moment before shrugging.

"Meh. Don't know, don't care. Anyways, lemme know if that ghastly crew of adult misfits find their way off Neverland so I can help my captain man the Jolly Roger once more. Maybe I'll find a way to get your siren asses to Storybrooke. That Ariel chick did. Might as well give you guys a place to live, right?"

The seven of them cheered while Wooyoung hugged you tightly.

"Thanks, doll." He said affectionately and kissed your cheek.

"No problem, Woo. All within a day's work I suppose."

[nokingsonlyfooles]

I did not survive The Belko Experiment

You can stream this movie for free, and the spousecritter and I did. I heard James Gunn was involved and it was "like a cross between Office Space and Battle Royale" and we thought, "Hell yeah." We expected absurdist comedy. We got a halfway plot switch to a brutal anti-authoritarian screed that failed to stick the landing and just ended with a sick joke.

I'm glad it exists and I think it said things that need saying, but I didn't enjoy it and I won't watch it again. You're free to make up your own mind on that.

But I would like to share my personal experience with a similar "game."

We got to the point in the movie where the authoritarian shitstain was separating the older folks for a culling - the rules were, if the workers didn't kill an arbitrary amount of people in an arbitrary amount of time, the higher ups would kill twice as many people.

My spousecritter objected with disbelief, "Why would they do what he says? They know he is going to kill them!"

And I knew why. I hadn't thought about it in a long time, but I knew. I said, "They just have to kill the first one who pushes back..." and while I was saying this, they did, "and it has to be fast and brutal. Then the rest of them won't. They don't have enough time to think."

And I had to further explain that I knew this because a high school Environmental Science student shot me in the head.

Not with a real gun. This was a "game," Columbine had barely happened, and we weren't being collectively sensitive about school shootings yet.

It wasn't really a game or an experiment. It was rigged from the start. We were supposed to learn a lesson about the uneven distribution of resources - it is bad, and causes people to do bad things. Simple. Oversimplified, in fact, and pretty pointless for that reason. But this is a class wherein I got a good grade for "saving" an island environment in SimIsle by raising money with off-shore oil drilling, so... I appreciate that the teacher was trying.

We were divided into groups, proportionate to how the population of the world exists, with proportionate resources. This "First World" has all the food and money, the "Third World" has all the people and the "Second World" has a fairish amount of each. Here's the food, each one of you has some money, get enough calories to survive by the end of Round One or you will die.

Oh, and to make sure you take it seriously, if you die, you will fail this exercise.

Now, I had some real bad circumstances. I had a total breakdown freshman year, all my grades were shit that year, and if I wanted a GPA that looked college-ready (like my abusive parents wanted me to have) I needed straight As with no margin of error. I was doing well in Environmental Science, but if I failed that exercise, there would've been... let's be gentle and inclusive and call it "disproportionate real-world negative consequences."

I can't have been the only kid in that situation. It wouldn't have been all of us, maybe not even most of us, but enough of us were motivated and the chaos of trying to survive without enough food for everyone commenced.

I was in the Third World, with most of the class. The others did not think of sharing their food with us in the time allotted, if such a thing would've even been allowed. We had a few kids selected to be government officials, and they had a military. The military had the ability to "kill" us.

Demonstrably, there was not enough food for everyone to survive the round and the clock was ticking. The government tried to get us to line up and purchase our food in an orderly manner, and the ones at the back of the line would clearly die at the end of the round.

In this milling mass of desperate high-schoolers, I (an anarchist in egg form) refused to stay where I was put and cut the line. And before I could open my mouth to protest, a "soldier" pulled out a finger gun and shot me. "Boom. You're dead. Go sit down."

"I... Buh..." I do not have an easy time talking when my emotions get the better of me in situations I don't understand. Not that it would've made any difference.

"Boom," said the teenaged boy whose grades were not nearly as good as mine and who managed to get made into a soldier, with a smile. Maybe it was revenge, maybe just relief. "You're dead. Go sit down."

I staggered over to the designated "dead" area and sat on the floor. I was the first. I sat there by myself until the end of the round.

There was slightly more food for everyone, given that I'd died, but still nowhere near enough. I think I couple more kids got killed for fighting with each other, (I'm not sure. The infighting might not've started until Round Two) but the biggest influx starved to death because they were at the end of the line and there wasn't enough food for them, as intended.

One of my fellow dead human beings muttered, "This isn't fair," and I agreed. There were a few more rounds, but the point was the headcount at the end. How many dead people were from the Third World group? Most of 'em. A few from the Second, and none from the First.

There, children. This is why there's famine in Africa (it's really not). Oh, and I was just kidding about failing you. This wasn't for credit.

I felt relieved and horrible, which I suppose was the point, and then the bell rang and we all went to our next class.

The Belko Experiment gave its victims all day. We had about forty minutes. Either way, that is not enough time for a lot of scared human beings to come up with rational solutions. Within these narrow boundaries, there can be no revolution, no humanitarian aid, no simple kindness. People are gonna die so let's start making decisions NOW! Only the dead ones have a minute to think and go, "This isn't fair," and they're not playing the game anymore.

This is not how a person does science. It is a particularly brutal method of storytelling, and, as an adult with more agency and experience, I think it's garbage. If you need to see people behave like snarling animals to make your point, there are much easier ways to force them to do that. But, the people running these "experiments" don't trust human beings to turn on each other, so they stack the deck from a position of authority with a threat of violence - whether they understand they're threatening violence or not.

If you leave people alone and let them exist out of crisis mode, sometimes they help each other. I think, with better social circumstances, that would happen more often, and faster. But even as it is, sometimes they help each other. And that's not what we want to see. If people help each other when we leave them alone in a game environment... What the hell are we doing that prevents them from doing that in the real world?

Uh, I think we're, um, stacking the deck from a position of authority with a threat of violence, fam. Just to start. There's a lot of other stuff, it's real complicated, but we're definitely doing that.

We don't have to. We don't have bombs in our heads or a teacher who can ruin our lives with a red pen. We have police and politicians, I guess, but they're usually not in the room and they can't control you if you don't do what they say. School's out. And you can just feed people. Ever wonder what else you can do?