#i want to save my data from it though so i have to figure out How To Do That

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

y'all i've been upset about nanowrimo's shenanigans since last year, when kids weren't safe, and now there's this AI shitshow, and i want to cry about it again, because nano has been SO IMPORTANT to me since 2008--it helped me hack my writing process and make a bunch of cool shit, and i've written so many stories i love using it as a jumping off point. but. we gotta protect kids, and we gotta get the fuck out of here with AI bullshit.

so. the decision i have come to is that i will still be participating in nano. but now it stands for "now a's [that's me] novel writing month." i'm still going to write a book in november, and i'm still going to shoot for the 1,667 words/day (even though my finished projects wind up way longer than that, invariably), because i've structured my creative life around this routine, but i won't be using their site any more.

i will also not be tagging my november project posts as nanowrimo, but i WILL still be tagging them as "nano[YEAR]" (because that's been my tagging system for untitled projects for uh. years.). and it's now a's novel writing month :)

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[reiderwriter]

do you think you could write where reader is a part of the BAU and gets kidnapped/ hurt by an unsub and spencer saves her? much love and i love your fics!

Hi! Thanks so much for your request. I'll admit this took a bit more brain power than usual 💀 may have gotten slightly carried away creating an unsub lmao

Summary: You go undercover for a case and Reid keeps you company through online messages, only to feel absolutely worthless when you go missing.

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kidnapping and abuse of Y/N, Reid self-deprecating again but it has a happy fluffy ending so a win.

My Requests are Open! Send me an ask if you want me to write something~ 💕 And check out My Masterlist!

“Y/N, what do you think? I’m not going to send you in if you’re not confident you can complete the mission.'' Your Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, was briefing you on the plan. Luckily for the team, or rather, unluckily for you, you fit the victim profile of your latest case, and with an absence of leads, your last chance to get him before he took another victim was an undercover mission. 

“I can do it, but can we establish a background in enough time? He’s devolving and he’s going to need to pick up another victim pretty soon.” 

You’d been called in to consult on the case two weeks prior. Local women who lived alone in the metropolitan area had been going missing on a weekly basis for the last three months, and the BAU team had been called in when they’d finally found the dump site of the first three victims. 

You’d so far managed to figure out how he was finding his victims from their home computers - a site for young women to look for sugar daddies. You’d previously profiled him as a man in his mid-40s who was going through a personal loss and was lashing out at women who represented someone specific to him, and after searching through the dating profiles, you were pretty sure his stressor was a recent or impending divorce. 

But try as Garcia might, these dating websites had a whole lot more encoded data than was expected, and after the Ashley Madison scandal of the previous decade, they’d taken to deleting the majority of their user data regularly so that certain accounts couldn’t be found. Which meant that you were left with a geographical profile you couldn’t pin down, a profile that could match half the men in the city, and a killer that was almost ready to strike again. 

“Garcia can get something ready for you in the next 8 hours, and we have some access to some FBI safehouses in the area that we can ready in at the same time. Go get yourself prepared for cover.”

And that’s how you found yourself living in a dingy studio apartment on the south side of the city for two days, waiting to report back about whatever men approached you. There wasn’t much for you to complain about, but you were getting pretty lonely. 

You’d greeted your new neighbors and made a show of attending some ‘new to the neighborhood’ events, making sure to get out and about to let the team assess if the unsub was stalking you. Other than that you’d spent the rest of your time in your apartment a constant tab open at the sugar baby website. A few men had been interested, and your computer was cloned and running simultaneously on Garcia’s system so the team could do their best to track suspicious accounts. 

The rest of your spare time was, surprisingly enough, spent messaging Spencer Reid. You’d been on the team now for three months, joining the team as a transfer from the blue collar division you’d worked in straight out of the academy. You had spent the same amount of time doing your best to gain confidence to work in the field. Sure, you’d trained for this, but theory and practice were so different and you really didn’t want to fuck up so early into your job.  

Which is why, you supposed, that Doctor Spencer Reid was so intimidating to you. Though he admittedly wasn’t the best at field work, noting the amount of exceptions the FBI had to make to allow him outside of the office at all on your first meeting, he was just so damned competent. With three PhD’s, three BA’s and a pending fourth on the way, he was the golden child of the BAU, and you found yourself desperate for his approval. It surely didn’t help that he was also your exact type to boot, and sometimes you found yourself conflicted if you wanted his approval because he was so good at his job or because he was go goddamn good-looking. 

With no way to know how the unsub was tracking his victims before he kidnapped them, your team theorized it was unsafe to have physical check-ins, opting instead to set up another account on the sugar baby website, that would be manned around the clock. And tech-averse Reid had volunteered to do the bulk of the manning, leaving you with all the time in the world to talk to him in your private chat room. 

sug4rbbY/N: Good evening, Doctor, got any interesting facts for me today? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Did you know that it is illegal to flirt in Haddon Township, New Jersey? Under the section “Peace and Good Order,” a person may be punished for approaching “any person of the opposite sex unknown to such person and by word, sign or gesture attempts to speak to or to become acquainted with such person against his will.”

sug4rbbY/N: Well, aren’t I glad that we do not live in New Jersey then. 

D0ct0rD0ct0r: There’s more where that came from if you’re ever interested. 

sug4rbbY/N: I’ll certainly keep that in mind. 

sug4rbbY/N: Any plans for the evening, doc? 

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Just sitting here talking to you :) 

sug4rbbY/N: All by yourself? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Never feel like I’m alone when you’re online. 

sug4rbbY/N: Haha that’s sweet.

sug4rbbY/N: BRB, Doc, my doorbell’s ringing.  

You stood up from your desk, a glance at the mirror betraying your feelings, as your flush was prominent. You weren’t sure if it was the intimate nature of the messaging system, or just for the sake of your cover, but the flirty tone of your messages had certainly been leaving you wondering if there could be more to your relationship with your coworker in the future. 

You quickly walked over to the door, opening it wide and came face to face with a bouquet of flowers. 

“Miss Y/N Harper?” the man behind the bouquet used your cover name to address you, and you hesitated a little before nodding in the affirmative. “Can you sign here please? It’s standard procedure for deliveries like this.” 

“But I didn’t order any flowers…” you took the bouquet from the man and grabbed the pen in his hand ready to sign. 

“Oh yeah, our shop specialises in anonymous flowergrams. That bunch you’ve got in your hand has some aconite, some white lilies and jasmine flowers.” The delivery man explained, and something in your gut twisted as you listened to his words. 

“But aren’t lilies usually meant for funera-” you didn’t get to finish because he had pushed a wet rag to your face, and you had just enough time to shake some small petals off and push them far enough underneath a nearby shoe storage unit before you faded into unconsciousness, your last thought a prayer that your team would uncover your clue. 

–x– 

Needless to say, when you didn’t check back in a few minutes later, Spencer had alerted every cop in the vicinity of your new apartment that you were gone, and they discovered your apartment empty within ten minutes. 

“She was right there,” Spencer ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “She was talking to me and then she just got up and he took her.” 

“Reid, calm down, she can’t have been gone long, and we have security cameras all over the building. We’ll find her.” Morgan reassured the younger male while searching the entrance of your cover apartment for clues. 

“That’s easy for you to say, it isn’t your fault that she’d gone.”

“And it isn’t yours either, Reid. You did your job, but he wasn’t going to stop until he had her.” 

“I should’ve notified the standby officers as soon as she sent through that last message and what was I doing instead? Trying to figure out if she was flirting with me for real or not. I’m pathetic.”

“Reid, get your head back in the game. She’s gone and theres nothing you can do to change that now, but we need your head here or we’re not going to find her. Y/N’s an agent too, remember, she can hold her own. Now look and think.” 

“SSA Morgan, Doctor Reid, we may have something over here,” one of the local detectives called the two men over. They’d found the remnants of the petals you’d done your best to scatter, and even though the unsub had taken the bouquet with him, he hadn’t been as thorough as he should have been. 

“We didn’t set her up with any flowers when she started her cover, so these must have been bought in by the unsub. I’ll call Garcia, tell her to look for any flower shops within his comfort zone.” Morgan hit the number on his speedial, but before he could start, Reid cut him off.

“Wait, I think we can narrow the search a bit further. Those are Aconite petals, they’re not often stocked by local florists because they have a pretty sinister meaning. They’re usually used to express hatred for the receiver, and because of their poisonous properties most florists don't stock them for fear of doing harm and causing lawsuits. He must be specifically ordering them in to give to his victims. Garcia, can you crossreference the list of florists in the area and check to see how many of them have purchased this plant recently?” 

“Just the one. Sending you the address now. Go find our girl Doc.” 

–X– 

When you came to, in what you assumed to be a backroom of some kind of flower shop, you were bound at the ankles and wrists and there was a gag in your mouth. You struggled a bit against your bindings but it was no good, and you had to reassure yourself that you were going to be okay, doing your best to push down the tears and clear your head. 

You decided your best bet was to get to know your surroundings, check to see what was around you and what you could use to your advantage. There was a clock on the wall, and you realised that you’d only been gone half an hour. Reminding yourself that the unsub kept his victims for a minimum of two days did a lot to get your heartbeat back to a normal pace, but it spiked again as soon as you heard the door slam open and your captor walk in. 

“Stupid little bitch,” he slurred his words slightly and you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he moved closer to your space in the corner. You tried your best to scamper as far away from him as possible, but he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you up to his face. 

You winced at the pain and tried to squirm out of his hold. “Look at you all pathetic now, begging me to let you out. It’s not going to fucking happen, y'know. I’m going to be the last person you see, last person you hear,” he throws you against the wall, pinning you up with his hand on your arms as he sends a leering glance down your shirt and then gives you a disgusting grin. “Last person you touch.” 

Your bindings mean your movement is limited, but you still manage to bring both your legs up to knee him in the groin, effectively pushing him off you but landing hard on the ground yourself after you manage to do so. 

“Fucking whore,” he shouts at you standing up and dealing a sharp kick to your head that has your vision going white for a minute. “I’ll teach you to fucking mess with me again, you little bitch.” He makes to grab you again, but before he can you hear the blissful sounds of a door being kicked down and the shouts of the FBI to stand down. 

Two agents are on him in minutes and you finally allow yourself to let out a deep sob in relief, as a third, very recognisable agent, makes his way to your side. 

“Y/N, shhh baby, it’s okay. You’re okay now, I’ve got you,” Reid whispers in your ear as he unties you as gently and carefully as he can. The moment your arms are free you leap into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your face deeply against his chest. He pulls away just enough to untie your legs, and then lets you burrow into him again. 

“I knew you’d find me. Knew you’d understand something from those fucking flowers.” You sob into his chest now, as he strokes your hair, just holding you like that on the floor until you’re ready to move. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve sent someone to check sooner, and I should’ve never let you accept that stupid cover mission,this is my fault and I'm going to make it up to you. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you ever ag-” he begins rambling but you shut him up again, this time by firmly pressing your lips into his. 

“Before you say anything else, this is not transference and I’m not doing this because you saved me, we both know I would’ve done that eventually anyway,” you rest your forehead against his, and after he has time to process what has just happened, he’s wiping the tears away from your face, and gently holding it with both of his hands, leaning in to do it again, gently pressing his mouth against yours as if he’s afraid you might bolt at any second. 

“Thank you, again. For finding me,” you whisper to him, the space between you so miniscule now that you barely had to move your lips to know that he understood you. 

“Thank you, for letting me find you.” He grinned at you and held you again, determined to never let you out of his arms ever again. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Magic Touch

Shimmer!Kane x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 12: Anonymous Sex

Summary: Kane's an interesting patient.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating. I've gone off topic really because I found it difficult and this is where the story seemed to want to go.

Warnings: hospitals, reader works in the medical profession, kissing, I'm gonna say a bit of dubious content (but everyone's into it, it's just the set up is a bit hmm), biting, touching, Kane making people come with just a touch, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2065

Kane’s reactions to you after his ‘rescue’ were… interesting. 

You were part of the medical team that had helped to keep him alive, spending your spare time while he laid comatose running blood work for the constant tests that were demanded by strict looking army officials. You never got to see the data. The whole team was just being used for the grunt work while faceless others got to assess and ponder over the results. 

You’d managed to figure out some things though, despite all the cloak and dagger. Often sharing knowing looks with your colleagues when new tests were ordered by your shadowy bosses. 

Things started to get strange, or stranger, when he woke up. 

Psychiatrist tests that you weren’t a part of. Constant interviews with high ranking members from all different government agencies. Throughout it all you were told Kane remained neutral, emotionless. Watching the people speaking to him like a spider would approach an insect. A cold glint in his eyes. 

It was obvious that he had come back different. Changed. Someone else. 

You didn’t really notice at first, the looks he gave you. Sure, you were there to do a job, but you also remembered to have some bedside manner. 

You’d chat with him a little, or more accurately, at him while you took blood and vitals. And he would watch you, listen, nod, say the occasional word here and there.

Honestly, other than his quiet disposition, you hadn’t thought anything was that strange. You’d seen weirder just working at A&E on a Saturday night. 

And there was something kind of nice about it, about how he would listen. As if every word that came out of your mouth was important. 

It wasn’t until you were called into a sudden meeting with your team’s supervisor’s supervisor’s supervisor that things were put into a bit of perspective. 

The man, ‘Karl’ he had said his name was, but you were sure that was as fake as the smile he had given you when you’d knocked and entered his office. His fingers had been cold when he shook your hand, his grip a little too hard to be friendly. 

‘Karl’ had made idle chit chat with you for a few minutes while your own anxieties grew like parasites in your stomach before he finally got to the point. 

“You tend to interact with Kane every shift, is that correct?” 

You’d nodded. “Yes, pretty much. I’d have to check the logs to be sure though.”

He’d hardly let you finish before he was speaking again, obviously already knowing your answer before you had even spoken. “Yes, we’ve noticed some… abnormalities from the recordings.”

“Wait,” you’d cut in. You knew about the constant surveillance, that wasn’t so much of an issue, but you assumed there was some kind of accusation of malpractice. “Everything I’ve done has been following guidelines to the letter, the wellbeing of the patient is my top priority, if you’re implying that-”

“No, no, no,” ‘Karl’ had held up his hands, another fake smile on his face. “Not those kind of abnormalities, nothing like that at all. I do apologise, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything of the sort.” He’d paused, breathing in and seemingly revelling in the moment of anticipation as you waited for his next words. 

“The abnormality is Kane’s reaction and interactions with you.” 

“What?” 

“He seems to… converse with you. Talk.”

You’d frowned. “A little.”

“A lot.” He’d put his hands together on the desk. “A lot more than he talks with anyone else. We have a proposition for you.”

You said nothing. 

“Have a conversation with him, 45 minutes, it’ll be monitored obviously. Whatever happens… happens. If he doesn’t talk to you, that’s fine.” 

“What do you want me to talk to him about?” 

“Doesn’t matter, anything you want.” He’d smiled. “You’ll be well compensated financially, of course.” 

You’d said yes when you’d seen the actual figure, you would be a fool not to. Though, there just had to be a catch, didn’t there? That kind of money to just talk for 45 minutes? Not even to ask any questions? 

. 

The room several guards led you to the following day was surprisingly nice. Carpeted, painted in a soft grey with plush sofas. 

Kane was already in there when they’d let you in, locking the room behind you and not even setting foot inside. Like they were pushing you into the lion’s den. 

He was sitting on one of the sofas, facing away from the door. He looked around straight away when you entered and gave you a small upwards twitch of his lips when he saw it was you. An expression that would have been cold and detached on anyone else, but you had become used to Kane over the past weeks. That small movement was a warm greeting.

“Hello Kane.” You say as you sit opposite him. 

“Good morning.” 

You shift a little to get comfortable. “You okay?” 

He nods once, “very well.” This was the same reply he would give you anytime you asked. 

For a moment you look around the room, trying to see if you could spot where the cameras were. You couldn’t. 

“It’s nice to see you.” He says flatly, but you smile.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

“I usually spend my time in here with other individuals.” 

You pause, trying to read anything on his stoic face. “Others?” 

“I often have meetings in here.” 

You nod, waiting to see if he’ll continue. He doesn’t. “You… like the meetings?” 

He takes a moment to answer, seemingly staring straight into your soul. “I feel indifferent towards them.” 

You smile. “That boring?” 

Kane cocks his head to the side, but says nothing. 

“Do they give you anything to do, anything fun to amuse yourself I mean?”

He continues to look at you for a moment. 

“Books, tv, games?” You shrug a little as you speak, “art supplies?” Surely the higher ups didn’t just leave him with no mental stimulation. 

“Something ‘fun’?” He repeats in the same tone and you nod.

“Yeah, like a hobby?” 

“Talking to you is ‘fun’.” He says plainly.

You can’t help the little smile that pulls at your lips. “Yeah?” 

He nods, and shifts a little in his seat. His hands pressed neatly together on his lap. “Being around you is ‘fun’ also.” You’re so used to his calm, even voice but you don’t pick up on the slight change in cadence to his tone.

Your smile widens a little, “that’s nice to hear.” 

He watches you, fixated, his line of sight seemingly glued in place as you glance around again. Once more trying to pinpoint the cameras. It made no sense for them to be concealed surely?

“They removed them.” He says plainly. 

You frown, quickly turning back to him. “I’m sorry?” 

“The cameras. That’s what you’re looking for, right?” It was a statement, not a question. “They’ve been removed.” 

“What?” Your frown deepens. You’re sure Kane’s not lying to you, part of you isn’t sure if he actually could. “Why? Karl said that-”

“He told you this would be monitored.” Kane nods simply. “I asked for them to be removed.”

“Why?” 

“I assumed it would be… uncomfortable for you.” 

There’s an icy touch on the back of your neck, a shiver at his words. Some deep down basic sense of self preservation being activated. “What?” 

“People grow uncomfortable under surveillance, they react differently.” 

“Well… sure. I mean, you’re not wrong, it’s just…”

He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly. “It’s just?” 

“I thought the whole point of us talking was for them to, you know, monitor.” You shrug, not sure how else to phrase it. 

Kane nods, not in agreement, but simply to show that he heard you.

There’s a pause as he seems to be thinking over your words carefully, choosing the right response with a level of precision. 

Instead he stands and sits down next to you, his leg resting against yours. You frown a little, swallowing and taking a breath to question him as you shift to the side to put a sliver of space between you. 

His hand on your cheek makes you pause, freeze as your words catch in your throat. His fingers are warm and gentle as he tilts your head up and towards him, his pressure light as if he was worried he could tear through you like spider silk. 

For a moment he just looks at you, observing your features as if he could decipher some lost hidden knowledge. 

He leans closer and you know what he’s going to do before he does it. You’re not stupid. But for some reason you can’t get your body to move, to raise a hand, to shift backwards. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s sweet, gentle. The kind of soft first kisses that only exist in teenage romcoms. 

Your senses finally snap back into your mind and you pull back, breaking the kiss. “Kane, wha-”

He moves forward, his eyes seemingly expressionless as he kisses you again. His grip on your cheek tightens, halting your effort to pull away for a second time. 

The strength of his grip surprises you, the way his fingers slide around to squeeze at the back of your neck. You can’t do this, can’t let him do this. This is breaking every patient doctor code in the book. Not to mention that the room still could be monitored, you’d lose your job. And probably worse. 

You try again to move away, to break the kiss, but his hand tightens. The strong muscles of his arms contracting as he keeps you in place. 

Frustration bubbles under your skin, covering the deep down urge to just relax into the embrace, and you do the first thing that pops into your head. You bite his lip. Hard. 

He groans. 

“Again.” He mutters, his voice thick. He rubs the bridge of his nose against yours, practically vibrating as he leans close for another kiss. He moves closer, pressing his chest to yours and lightly pushing you back against the sofa.

“Kane, I…” You swallow, trying so hard not to get caught up in the feel of him, the intoxicating lidded look to his eyes, how his body feels against yours. “I hardly know you, I don’t know you.

“You do. You did.” He says simply.

You practically do a double take. “What?” 

Kane doesn’t answer, leaning down and mouthing at your neck, licking and sucking until you shiver and a small pant escapes your lips. 

He slips his hand under your clothes, ghosting his fingers along your skin. 

You jump, “Kane…” You wish you didn’t sound so needy, so breathless. 

“Hmm?” He hums against your neck and drags his hand down, sinking under your waistband. 

You pull lightly on his hair, getting enough space between you and him so that you can press your lips to his. 

He groans, kisses you back with a deep hunger that leaves you breathless. He licks into your mouth, rolling and teasing your tongue with his own until you're whining and bucking up against him. 

A damp patch is starting to form in your underwear, and when he lightly touches your clit over your panties you gasp, your back arching. 

You expect him to stroke, to move his fingers. But instead, he presses the very tip of his forefinger flat against your bundle of nerves, firm but gentle. 

And suddenly your world falls apart. 

You tense, moaning and panting as you come suddenly, pleasure exploding behind your eyes and robbing you of thought as you convulse in his arms. Your body pulses, sings and you can’t do anything but hold onto him for dear life. 

He moves his hand a fraction as you come down, taking his lips from yours and smiling ever so slightly as you breathe hard. Sweat beading on your forehead as aftershocks run through your nerves.

“What was that?” You pant. 

“An orgasm.” He smiles a little bashfully.

For a second you think he’s being serious, but you tut and giggle when you see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Let me show you again.” He mutters, leaning closer once more and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his fingers under your underwear this time.

Thank you for reading!

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[lets-try-some-writing]

Do you have any tip on writing character that smarter than you? Like I need to write about prowl solving case, but I barely passed my math exam.

I do have a few tips!

One, research. The more you know about a subject matter yourself, the more you can BS your way through it. You don't have to go write a thesis or anything like that, but knowing key phrases, terms, and ideas can help you make crap up on the fly. For example, if you want to write a battle scene, do a quick look into a historical figure who you want to model your character after. Look at an interesting battle and analyze key elements. Then take the vague overview of it and go buck wild. Throw it into a blender in order to create a believable plan/tactic for your character to follow.

Two, foreshadow and develop a reputation. This will cover for a lot of things for your character and save you the slog of explaining everything. If your character is established to have a reputation for being intelligent and/or capable, you can have your character glance over things and leave readers confident that something was actually accomplished. Of course, you need to be careful with this. If you establish your character to be a brutal strategist and then have said character go out of their way to care about civilians the next moment, you will run into problems with consistency.

Three, include other characters in the scene. You can draw attention away from your own lack of knowledge by having several things moving at once to add to the overall scene. A character can look far more complex and wise if they are seen interacting with others and using different tools to help accomplish their goals. Not everyone can be Sherlock Holmes. Some characters can express their cunning and intelligence via interacting with others and through dialogue. Be careful not to be too hamfisted with it though, otherwise it feels forced. I personally tend to spend chapters upon chapters foreshadowing and establishing the capabilities and reputation of a character that is meant to be smarter than me.

Four, lean on a character's traits. If you are writing a character with highly noticeable traits, you can lean on those to help rationalize their actions even if they end up being inconsistent later. I am personally a huge fan of this since emotion can make an otherwise very intelligent character brutally ineffective in the right situation.

Regarding your example of Prowl, I would first study whatever it is he is meant to be looking into. If it's a murder, I'd look into a few interesting real life murder cases for example. I personally studied true crime to write Prowl chapters in my fic. Then, apply that basic knowledge and have Prowl be capable of assessing the situation quickly and logically. Next, or perhaps also first, I would establish his reputation and background to give him a base of knowledge that is believable. This can be done through background dialogue, his thoughts, or through setting details.

Then, to really sell it, I would have Prowl contact associates, dig up old data, and otherwise showcase his knowledge base and intelligence through organic means. Pulling up other characters can make him seem far more calculating than you, the author, may be. And lastly, I would pull on his lack of empathy to help guide how he makes his decisions. This way, you can still slip up a bit as an Author in his conclusions so long as they relate back to Prowl's weaknesses somehow.

These are rather vague, but I hope this helps!

[insert-something-funy-here]

PHIGHT OR PHLIGHT

CHAT, IT'S DONE!!! CHAPTER 3 IS HERE!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIO!!! YOUR PRESENT??? THE BIG SAD!!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!!!!!!

ANYWAY, chat I think this chapter genuinely has some of my best writing so uh, praying this gets popular lol- CLICK ON THE IMAGES FOR BETTER QUALITY 🙏

AND WITH THAT, ENJOY!!! >:D!!!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4

"I did what was right."

"You did what benefited you and only you."

Could the warden have been right?

Medkit sits there, staring at Biograft as he recovers from overheating and attempts at saving battery for the rest of the trip. The two are on their way to the Church of the True Eye, Medkit has to report back about what happened no matter what. However, the pair are currently resting at Sword's. Biograft lays in Sword's hammock, "sleeping," though he can't actually recharge without Subspace’s crystal.

I can't do anything.

I can't do anything but watch as his newly grooved existence runs along the iron rails laid before him by my own. There’s no lever, no other track, and I could close my eyes, but watching is the least I owe him. From the rifled frozen heart of the mountains to the ineludible sand of the desert he now erringly rushes forward. He’s smart; but there’s intelligence which lies with woe or that which lies with insanity. In some souls are the wings of the swords who hegemonize this world which allows them to dive into the darkest gorges, soar out of them again and again, and become impervious to the wills of many. Such that even if they were to fly forever in those georges, they’re in the mountains, making even their lowest swoop higher than that of any plain bird’s soar. He’s just now growing, with so much potential and light. Do I have it in me to watch if he falls the same as I?

Biograft’s awakening quickly stole Medkit’s attention from his thoughts. “I am no longer overheating and believe I have deleted a sufficient amount of data, my remaining battery should now last a week."

“The church isn’t that far, which should leave us most of that time to figure out a battery for you,” he’s cut off by Sword entering the room.

“Hey Med, how’s Bio- Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He stepped forward and rested his arm on Medkit’s shoulder. He wasn’t all that sure about hosting a murderous robot, but Medkit’s adamance, and offering to charge him less from then on, ment this was important. Medkit didn’t give many details of what happened, but he did mention this Biograft being sentient and that the two just escaped from Subspace.

He met Sword with silence. He’s never felt before, how would he even be able to describe it? He has the vocabulary, but words are too subjective and feelings don’t always follow their denotation. It’s too complex. That’s without the added burden of asking if it’s even real. All experiences of life are different, but is his even valid? He can’t even articulate how he’s doing in this present moment. This is a train of thought best saved for later. He won’t lie, but he doesn’t know the truth. He simply says, “That is an overwhelming question,” and leaves it there.

“I should’ve thought about that, hah! Sorry, let me ask something different then, hmm,” Biograft wanted to interrupt and say the apology was unnecessary, but Sword spoke before he got the chance. “Still think my techniques are outdated?”

Biograft stares at him for a moment before speaking, “Incredibly so.” He pauses, “However, there is merit to it, age often brings either value or irrelevance. I believe you’re making a good attempt at having it be the first option of the two.” His words surprise Sword, but it seems to convince him that this Biograft is different from the ones he’s fought before.

Sword smiles at Biograft, it confuses him, but at least Sword seems pleased with his response. Medkit speaks up, “We should get going.”

“Leaving already? Dang! You sure you two are good to leave?” He knows they have to leave for the cult eventually, but he wouldn’t mind their company for a bit longer.

“As ready as we can be.”

“So not at all?”

“Correct.”

As Medkit had predicted, it did not take them long to arrive at the church. The two are greeted by Scythe, “Aw there ya are ‘Kit! Why if I didn't know any better I woulda thought you were tryna run,” she steps forward, looking Biograft up and down, “I see you brought a new toy with ya.”

“I can explain.” Biograft notices a new hesitancy in Medkit’s voice.

“Well of course ya are! Let’s go find some place else to talk.” There’s been some sort of underlying threat lacing itself in her words, but Biograft can’t grasp what. Medkit, however, knows it all too well. Scythe begins to walk and motions for the pair to follow behind. Medkit’s hands tense, something makes Biografts shake.

The two stick close as they follow Scythe, eventually making it to an office like room with a large round table. She motions for them to sit at one end while she walks to the other. “Now then! Explain before I disassemble yer lil friend here.” The way her tone didn’t match her words reminded Biograft of Subspace, but this felt different. This felt different. He should be used to violence aimed his way, being in phights, having been part of Blackrock’s security force, being close to his creator, but this wasn’t the same. There are stakes, this existence is now the only one he has, there’s no coming back now if he’s killed. He won’t claim to be alive, but he will fight for this life with every part of himself.

Medkit knew she would probably rip Biograft apart regardless, “This Biograft, he’s sentient, we got away from Subspace-”

“Hold your horses there Doc, ain’t we supposed to be keepin’ ya safe from that scientist?”

“That is the deal we have but-”

“Now how exactly are we gonna keep ya safe from him if yer actively bringin’ his lil experiments ‘round the place, mm?

“He’s different!”

“Ya say that but all I see here is a security risk.”

Biograft stood up, “I can prove it.” he pauses for a moment to rephrase his words, “let me prove myself.” Medkit looks at him, clearly shocked, wanting to stop him.

Surprise managed to slip through Scythe’s expression. Oh, this was gonna be fun, “Well, well, well~ it can speak fer itself. Hmmm, you know what, yeah, I’ll give ya one shot,” she walks to the door and holds it open, “Come along now~” Medkit goes to follow behind Biograft, but Scythe raises her hand and shoots him a look, “You’re stayin’ here, Broker will be here to talk to ya in a bit. You can give him yer full report.” Medkit goes to say something, but flinches back, a pain shooting through his eye as Scythe’s glass one temporarily gains a teal tint. He sits back down and crosses his arms, refusing to look at her.

Her smirk grows as she turns to Biograft, “Now then, shall we?

Scythe led him to one one of the canyons near the church, as the two walked she asked, “I assume yer lookin to stay here? With him?”

“Yes.” For the first time since all of this had started, he could answer without hesitation. Staying by Medkit’s side, he wasn’t sure what made him seek such a thing so desperately, but he knew he had to do whatever it took.

“And how exactly ya think this’ll work hm?” Scythe stopped and turned to look at him.

Confused, he asked, “In what regard?”

“Well I need some,” She paused, “Reassurance. I could put in a good word for you to the Father, but how do we know this ain’t a long con for you and yer creator?” She began to step closer, “Or that yer any different from the tons of you I’ve dismantled before?” Standing face to face, inches apart, “How do we know yer a good fit for the family?”

“I’ve abandoned all of my connection to Blackrock-”

She puts her hand up to cut him off, “I don’t mean for you to tell me," She yanks him forward, "I want you to show me.”

The two exchange blows for a while. After, Scythe takes a seat on a nearby cliff edge and motions for him to sit next to her, “A’ight, that’s good enough, I get the point yer different, but I still got some things I wanna ask.” He sits next to her, “Why did you leave?”

He immediately goes to excuse his actions, “I had to-”

“No. Listen kid, I’ve fought…” she vaguely gestures at him, “you, before. I know you do insane amounts of calculatin’ and figurin’ out the ‘most optimal actions’ to take for yer directives n all that. So out of every choice you coulda made in that moment, what made leavin’ the best?” She observed him, even if he wasn’t a demon, there’s something in him. Something that can be used.

He froze. He didn’t know? No, he did know, he just didn’t want to admit it. He could’ve just gotten Medkit out of there and returned to Blackrock. He could have returned to Subspace’s side and just held him back until Medkit got away. He didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to be here, but something inside him needed him to. Needed Medkit. Medkit’s absence hurt him, and now he had a chance to be by his side again. This is one shot at it. Biograft gave up every part of his previous identity for this. It won’t be like what it was before Medkit left, far from it, but that didn’t matter. Whether he was sentient, or not, didn’t matter. Medkit would be here, and that’s all he needed. “He did.”

Scythe smiles, seeming more than pleased with his answer. “Say, you need a battery right? Er, well, some way of chagrin? I hear ‘Kits crystal aint work for you, I might have somethin’ that will.”

He looks at her surprised, “Really?”

She nods, “It comes with conditions of course, but you’ll join the family, I’ll vouch for ya, and you’ll get to work alongside our dear medic. You gotta … earn the power you’ll be using from the father, but I think you’ll make a fine vessel for it.” She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a glass eye, “Here, it’s even the one ‘Kit was s’ppossed to have! His eye was sewn shut before he joined, which is why he’s allowed to have an eyepatch.”

He takes the glass eye, “I assume you’ll want me to change my display?”

She nods, “You’ll be required to yeah, I know you don’t have proper eyes, so something to show only one ‘ll work fine,” she thinks for a moment, “Maybe you change one to a flower!”

The three meet again in the workshop. It was nowhere near what he used to have in Blackrock, but it was functional, and Subspace was nowhere to be seen. Medkit steps up to Biograft, putting his hands on his shoulders, before giving him a tight embrace. Biograft was quick to reciprocate. Medkit whispered to him, “You’re still a weapon in everyone else's eyes, just in someone else's hands now, and it’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

The two pull apart and Biograft lays on the rooms center workbench, "I didn't leave for freedom, I left for you."

[semischarmed]

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired. 

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.  

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen. 

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it. 

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1: 

<3

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short. 

 My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged. 

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day. 

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water. 

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this. 

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”  

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.” 

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol” 

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself. 

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”  

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text. 

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream. 

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment. 

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head. 

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done. 

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry. 

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”. 

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another. 

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny. 

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through. 

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front. 

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature. 

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”. 

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine. 

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click. 

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

[nebbys-personal-nebula]

the biggest, most copium agent 4 theory from this clown of an agent four enjoyer

apologies for the wait on this! i wanted to unlock all of the dev diaries to make sure i could squeeze out every last bit of lore...

anyways SIDE ORDER SPOILERS INCLUDING POSTGAME

so let's start with the common knowledge. most people know by this point that agent 4 has a palette. it's one of the first you get in the game, after pearl and marina's. to the surprise of nobody, it is a splattershot...

according to what marina says about the memverse, palettes are a portion of a person's soul dragged into the memverse. so agent 4's soul got dragged in here somehow. how did this happen, and why? there are a few possibilities...

marina mentions in her eighth dev diary that she needs someone to handle system security. she writes: "maybe i can ask that person cuttlefish introduced me to for help there." this is still pretty vague, but we know from smollusk's note on agent 4's palette that it is definitely agent 4. quote:

"THIS is who mawina wanted in charge of memverse security? this unfwappable, free-spirited so-and-so? i would never abide it!"

the question is: if agent 4 was intended to be security for the memverse, then where are they? this leads us to the parallel canon boss!

note that figure in the center. even though all descriptions for this boss describe it as "a lot like eight", it is clearly an inkling with its pointed ears and hair.

the hairstyle is significant, too. all art of this boss, including its icon, display it with the "haircut" style. why does this matter? because official art of agent 4 also uses this style:

on top of that, people have reported that if you have splatoon 2 save data on your switch, the boss will use whatever hairstyle your inkling uses in that game (with that inkling, of course, being agent 4). unfortunately, i forgot to take a screenshot of my save, but maybe someone could reblog this and confirm?

another thing to note about that agent 4-looking robot in the center is that they're wielding the order shot, which is the same weapon you get from agent 4's palette.

so what exactly am i getting at with all this? let's read a little more of smollusk's notes on agent 4...

"buut...no weason such stwength shouldn't be used to pwotect a world of order. an order defense force is MUCH cooler than a new squidbeak splatoon anyway!"

this phrasing is particularly interesting to me because it implies smollusk wants to, or already has utilized agent 4's strength in some way. additionally, smollusk regards fans of chaos in a very similar way. for almost all of them, he argues they must be "punished". examples:

"she must be PUNISHED!" - callie's palette

"her chaotic lies must be PUNISHED!" - shiver's palette

"for the sake of order, they all must be PUNISHED!" - frye's palette

"it annoys me, so he must be PUNISHED!" - big man's palette

"he must be PUNISHED!" - sheldon's palette

"i sentence him to PUNISHMENT!" - dj octavio's palette

almost all of these characters are on the side of "chaos". callie and dj octavio were on the chaos side of the final fest, while shiver, frye, and big man rep the splatlands, basically the land of chaos. no idea what smollusk's beef is with sheldon though that guy was neutral LOL

on the other hand, smollusk is notably softer with characters on the side of "order", like marie, murch, and marina (obviously). he still critiques them, but he doesn't sentence them to "punishment".

agent 4 was on the side of chaos in the final fest. so why didn't smollusk sentence them to "punishment"?

perhaps it's because smollusk is already making use of them...by using their soul to control the parallel canon boss!

think about it! the bosses of the tower are basically security, right? they keep you from reaching the top! since smollusk knows from marina that agent 4 was meant to be security, it could have pulled in their soul to fulfill that job. that's why agent 4's palette is there, and that's why we don't physically see them in the dlc! because they're grayscaled in the outside world!

…it is also definitely possible that the boss is just INSPIRED by agent 4, taken from marina's memories, or something like that. but i like this theory because it explains why agent 4's soul ended up in the memverse.

one other thing - i think the popular opinion is that the parallel canon boss are "robots", due to the way they move, their eyes glowing, the filter on their voice, etc...this is probably true, but have you ever wondered if the boss is actually a real inkling (a digital…real…inkling? you get the idea) if it was just a robot like the others, why would it specifically have ears and hair? not only that, but you can get the parallel mask from the priz shop:

which you wear on your face. what if this is the real agent four, wearing this parallel mask? their gray coloring could be because they're grayscaled! after all, we never actually see a representation of grayscaling in-game. the name implies that they'd actually turn gray in some way, maybe in the color of their tentacles. but this could be the most dramatic extent of it!

this is definitely a stretch, but you can consider it food for the die-hard agent 4 angsters out there. love you guys <3

feel free to reblog if you have thoughts, add-ons or even counterpoints! i find this all really interesting

[jjclopelover]

How he talks to/about her v.s. How he talks to/about him

I'm back with more analysis' about JJPope and why it's better than anything either of them had with Kie.

Today I'm talking about JJ and how he speaks of and to them and why the difference in how he does it speaks VOLUMES.

JJ talking about Kie (S1): "Of course, I'm hitting on her. She's a super-hot, rich, hippie chick, slumming with us. Why? I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro? I know that door's locked because I tried it. Have you?"

JJ talking about Pope(S2): "Ain't all that bad. Just look at the guy over there. He would do anything for us. That's a Pouge if I've ever seen one. Bone-deep. That's just one man's opinion, though."

THE DIFFERENCE.

JJ talking to/about Pope:

"For once in your life, trust someone else."

~~~

"You're the golden boy."

~~~

Topper: "Hey, I just wanna make sure everyone here is okay with ending up in federal prison."

JJ: "Uh, if it gets to that, yeah, I'll do it for Pope."

~~~

"I'm here for you, Pope. Welcome to my world, okay?"

~~~

JJ talking to/about Kie:

"And you--I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?"

~~~

"Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara."

~~~

"Hell of a job melting it down, Dr.Frankenstein."

~~~

(I don't need to put anymore as all of JJ's quotes for Kie are from the first half of S1 lol.)

As you can see, JJ speaks highly of Pope and lowly of Kie. He sees being a pouge as a badge of honor and gave Pope the highest honor. He sees Pope as someone he can relate too and shares a deep connection too.

He doesn't see that with Kie.

And I hear Jiara stans saying "What about S3? He was so worried about her and went back to get her!"

And to that, I say, "Yeah...cuz it's JJ."

His number one trait as a character is his loyalty. It's his best trait as it shows how much he will do for his friends. But also his worst trait as he puts his friends over his own being and in the end it only hurts him.

JJ would have reacted the same if it was anyone else in that situation.

Like when John B was a wanted criminal, JJ did anything for him. (risking to get arrested himself, shooting cops, and being by his side when he was on the run)

Or when Sarah is dealing with Ward or Rafe, JJ is always watching over her. (running after a car that held a drugged Sarah unconscious in the back, jumping in a shipping crate to get her and the cross back, staying by her side, and keeping an eye on her when John B was found guilty in court.)

And even Cleo who just joined the crew, JJ makes sure to treat her like the rest of the pouges. (like when he praised her for convincing Pope's parents to let him go to South America)

And we all know that he would do the same if not more for Pope. (going to jail for him, almost getting arrested for him again, taking over an entire boat of men to get his cross plus Sarah, risking being seen with him at Midsummers when he was supposed to be undercover, taking a beating from his dad for him, fighting for him at the outdoor movie, being super protective about him anytime he was around Limbrey and Renfield, keeping the secret that Pope was the one who actually sunk the boat and lying to the others, bringing Pope to his cousin Ricky's house to save his life even tho Ricky was still pissed at him for stealing his ambulance.)

And many, MANY, more.

The way we are introduced to JJ who loves and protects Pope but pushes Kie aside

versus

The way they "built up" S3 JJ for a toxic relationship with Kie but as a result of that he has to push Pope aside.

The writers and creators gave us s1 JJ, that's how his character was made and supposed to be portrayed. S3 JJ was built off toxic fans who threatened their way into an unfortunate canon ship.

Toxic stans = Toxic ship.

You Jiara stans wonder why JJ felt out of character, or why the Jiara chemistry felt forced or fake. That's because it was.

You can't force chemistry.

All the OBX cast did chemistry reads to see which duos worked together as a couple and which didn't. But the one duo that did not do a chemistry read was JJ and Kie (Rudy and Madi)

why?

because the creators saw no need. as they weren't even thinking of getting those two characters together. JJ was supposed to end up with Cleo. That was one of the many reasons Cleo came back as a main character.

What they would do with Kie and Pope, I don't know and I don't care. But Any ending would have been better than canon Jiara.

Anywaysssss

JJ treats Pope like he's his partner

and

JJ treats Kie like she's his sister

But let's be honest...we all see that, don't we?

Editor's note: Sry this took so long lol, life's been busy :)

[teecupangel]

I'm almost sorry to add another story idea to your backlog pile, BUT:

Elijah finds out what his dad went through, manages to break into a parallel universe, time travels to the 3 eras of the main ancestors, and tries to change things enough to save Desmond. Altair, Ezio, and Ratonhnhake:ton ask this tiny, angry, sarcastic, cactus of a child why he's doing what he's doing, and he eventually explains it over time.

Desmond, on the other hand, is watching all of this through the animus: a son he didn't know existed was trying to save him. An infant who he had never met, and who had never met him, was fighting time and reality itself to save him from a fate that still hasn't been explained, was showing more care and love and compassion for him than anyone Desmond had ever known before. And it hurts, because Desmond just grows to love him more and more, but thinks he'll never truly meet him outside of a Bleed.

Elijah never seems to age, even though he spends like forty years picking on Ezio. There's a statue of him in the Monterrigioni sanctuary, and he hates it with a passion.

Just... Elijah trying to fuck up time enough to save his dad, and Desmond watching all of it both touched and heartbroken, because if he's going through all of this anyways, it was all for nothing.

Then Elijah comes out of nowhere in the Grand Temple and sucker punches Juno with a data virus he had hardcoded into their lineage's DNA over nine centuries lmao

Please never be sorry for sending me an ask. Pile as much as you want as long as you guys understand that it would take a while for me to answer them (a month or so at this point XD)

Okay, but can you just imagine if Elijah was just a teenager in this one? That would give more of a sucker punch vibe to Desmond once he learns who Elijah is.

He has the ability to time travel but he can’t control where he gets sent. His goal had been to save Desmond Miles but he made the mistake of tying his time to Desmond Miles and not to someone more stable like Rebecca Crane or Shaun Hastings.

Hell, William Miles would be a better choice.

Because…

Desmond Miles’ ‘time’ is connected to the memories he watch in the Animus, making Elijah slip in and out of certain ‘times’, following the memories Desmond watches.

Desmond assumed Elijah was one of the informants in Altaïr’s memories. It’s only when Altaïr began to see him as an annoying child who always got in the way of Altaïr’s missions that Elijah told the truth.

Why?

Because Elijah has nothing to lose from telling Altaïr the truth. He was a prisoner of time itself, being yanked time and time again. He has a theory that he was being yanked to the time in Altaïr’s life where Desmond was watching him so he figured he could give Desmond information as well using Altaïr.

It would be funny, after all.

The Isus have chosen Ezio Auditore to be their prophet.

Why couldn’t Elijah make Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad his prophet then?

And he’ll take Ezio Auditore from the Isus as well.

Maybe it was Aita’s selfishness and desire for power.

Maybe it was his very own selfish desire to have something that was truly his.

“Shall we make a deal, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad?”

“A deal?” Those golden eyes seemed to pierce his very soul.

But it didn’t matter what he saw.

He cannot begin to fathom the truth.

Not yet, anyway.

Right now, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was a man lost in a vicious snowstorm threatening to swallow him whole and pull him to his frozen grave.

He still haven’t found the warmth he was meant to have, given to him by the Calculations.

“My name is Elijah.” He said, “I am a child of Time itself.”

“What nonsen-”

“I will correctly tell you what will happen when you confront Garnier de Naplouse.” Elijah stated, making Altaïr stop from walking away from him. Altaïr turned just enough to stare at him with one of his golden eyes as Elijah continued, “And I will tell you the future you are meant to have.”

“And what do you want in exchange?”

“From you? Nothing.” Elijah admitted, “All I want is a bit of your time.”

“My time?”

“To talk to Desmond Miles.”

Altaïr frowned as he said, “I do not know anyone by that name.”

“I know.” Elijah answered with a nod, “But he’s watching you. The Templars are forcing him to watch you right now and it is because he is forced to watch you that he comes to care for you so…”

“I will help you save yourself, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.” Elijah said, “To change your fate to whatever you desire, instead of what has been laid out in front of you. In exchange…”

“All I ask is you listen to me so I can take to my father.” Elijah’s lips curved into a small smirk that felt more Aita than him, “And to commemorate my first message to my father, I believe I should tell him an important truth.”

“Lucy Stillman is a Templar who betrayed the Assassins.”

(I feel like in this case, Elijah would provide more information and let Altaïr do what he wants. He only starts to actually have a more active roll once the memory seals from ACR starts and he grows close to Altaïr’s children. By the time he gets to Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton, he’s more ‘fuck the backseat, I’m driving’ and actively helps. This ends up with Elijah finally ‘returning’ to Desmond Miles’ time just as Minerva and Juno told him what will happen if he lets the world burn and, by that point, Elijah had already completed a device that would force Juno’s consciousness to operate the device in Desmond’s stead).

[writing-rat]

Cooking in Session

Pairings: Joey x Sammy

Content: Abigail Spoilersish, Fluff, Cooking lessons, mentions of drug use

Summary: Since Joey has a job has a school nurse now, she can't let Sammy not know how to cook. She needs to learn how to make lunch after all.

WC: 885

It had been a week since Sammy and Joey left the mansion. With Joey helping to kill Frank, Abigail promised to help a knocked-out vampire Sammy that Joey had managed to knock out and tie up. Kristof Lazar and Abigail had helped her out and Sammy was happy to be back to herself, Abigail promising she was saved. Safe to say Sammy wasn’t the same mentally, but she was trying. Currently, the 2 girls lived together while Caleb was also with them. He was currently in high school while Sammy was working at a company, looking at the data she was sent. She was a coder now and not a hacker unless needed to see if she could crack security systems. She was using her skills for good now. Joey meanwhile managed to make it as a school nurse and she was happy about that. She was currently using a holiday day after all as she wanted to teach Sammy cooking. She saw how she had eaten the entire week for lunch after all. She only had plain noodles and pasta.

“Sammy, are you on lunch break?” Joey asked. 

“Yeah babe, I am. Why?” she asked. 

“I am going to help you make a sauce for your pasta so you don’t have it plain when I am at work,” Joey explained. Sammy widened her eyes before she smiled, the same smile for when she was being figured out by Joey.

“You are the best,” she spoke. Joey shrugged. 

“I want my lover to be healthy,” she explained and Sammy nodded as she was quick to go into the kitchen with Joey. Sammy was excited. Joey meanwhile got a can of chopped tomatoes, peppers, tomato paste, ketchup, onions and different herbs out. “Those are onions,” Sammy spoke confidently. “I learnt the difference between garlic and onions,” she added. Joey snickered. 

“I’m glad,” she spoke and kissed Sammy’s cheek. She was happy they could joke about that at least.

“First, chopping onions,” Joey instructed. She showed Sammy how to hold the knife and chop them before she let Sammy take a go at it. Sammy was happy as she was doing it all before she looked at Joey when she finished. She wanted the praise that she knew Joey would give her. 

“How did I do?” she asked just to make sure she got it. 

“You did well mi amor,” Joey responded with a smile. “You could quicken up but it takes time to learn,” she added. Sammy nodded as Joey grabbed a red pepper. She once again taught her how to cut it and Sammy did as told, no injuries happening. She was also praised once again and it made her excited. 

“Now that these ingredients are cut, we put in the onions first,” she spoke, letting Sammy scrape them in. Sammy nodded as she was listening, choosing the pasta she wanted as Joey was admiring Sammy a bit. She was wearing some of Joey’s sweatpants and one of her tank tops. It was a hot day after all. Joey meanwhile was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, her scars from her old drug use being shown, and a pair of shorts. She was more confident showing them around Sammy and Caleb now, Caleb was happy to be with his mom rather than his fuck up of a father. Soon the onions were done, and Sammy put the peppers in under her lover’s command. She was being good as Joey was hoping she would memorise this. She was sure she would though if she could remember code. 

After 30 minutes, the sauce was done and was simmering as Joey and Sammy were getting something to drink. Joey got some water while Sammy got some Dr Pepper and was sitting on the counter. “Thank you for this,” Sammy thanked, looking at Joey genuinely with a soft smile. 

“It’s no problem mi vida. I am happy to teach you anything and I know you have had a hard childhood so I am happy to show you new things you need to learn,” she spoke. Sammy was happy. She felt loved. Soon enough the sauce and pasta were done and she got 2 plates ready for them. She let Sammy choose how much she wanted first. Sammy meanwhile made it even and Joey chuckled. She was happy to see how compassionate her lover was. The 2 girls soon sat down. 

“You know… it’s weird how we still call each other our undercover names,” Sammy teased. Joey widened her eyes then laughed and was nodding. 

“Agreed. Why don’t we use it when one of us is in trouble? Like if you made a mess in our room,” Joey teased. Sammy nodded excitedly. 

“Yeah! So… Ana, want to go on a date soon?” Jessica asked. 

“Yeah, I would love that Jess,” Ana spoke with a smile, then both proceeded to laugh. They were just happy. That was when Jess took a bite of her food and she widened her eyes. 

“Holy shit, this tastes so good. Fuck your school nurse job, become a chef,” Jess praised. 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I have that much skill,” Ana chuckled as she was eating. Sammy just smiled. She was sure she did, but she wouldn’t push her. For now, she would enjoy the food.

[mechanicalpiper]

Another snippet :3

I feel like this one's got some issues but I really can't pin down What those issues are, maybe it's just my perfectionism speaking but please do let me know if this one's just Ass lmao

A Reporter sneaks far into Villain's lair to get some major evidence for the press but gets caught in the act :3

cw: suggestive and kidnapping, once again

Snippet #3

Reporter felt tense.

Taking another shot with their camera, they flinched at the bright flash illuminating the pitch-black room and the distinctive click almost echoing through it- they had to be quiet, damn it, but there was no point sneaking all the way in here just to not gather evidence. They were deep into the Villain's lair, no way to just back out now- it was all or nothing: either they made it out with all the data they needed for the Agency to mitigate the Villain's entire plan, or... well, they figured it was best to not think about the alternative.

Silently walking to get another angle of the large machine that laid before them, they steadied another shot.

Deep breaths. You're halfway there.

Another click. They inspected the shot briefly, silently debating between leaving now or getting more info. There was just too much perfect material here to pass up, but-

Reporter almost jumped out of their skin hearing the distant noise of footsteps.

Someone's coming.

Dropping their camera, it luckily hanging from their neck strap instead of clattering to the floor, Reporter scrambled to the opposite end of the room as far as they could to look for somewhere to hide. Anywhere.

Their eyes darted around everywhere, but any kind of furniture that would even remotely block sight of them was against the wall.

The footsteps drew closer. Breathe. BREATHE.

Moving back, they desperately scanned the walls for something like a gap between the many drawers of files, any spot to hide, but there wasn't even the smallest little nook and cranny to hide anywhere.

In a full-blown panic, they kept looking around the room, knowing full well there was nowhere for them to go. Their breathing sped up more and more as they ran around in an irrational attempt to find absolutely anything, but all it resulted in was them being dead center in the room when the door slammed open.

Their hyperventilating was replaced with a held breath as they looked at the doorway, freezing in place with fear.

"Awww... Now what do we have here~?"

Villain slowly stepped inside the room, gaze fixed directly on the helpless Reporter caught like a deer in headlights. All they managed to do was back up just as slowly as Villain advanced, eyes filled with such adorable terror Villain couldn't get enough of. Reporter began to stutter something out, but was cut off in an instant by Villain.

"A little mouse making a commotion in MY lair? You know it's rude to tamper with stuff that doesn't belong to you, don't you~?"

Reporter's back hit the wall- Villain had never seen anything cuter than the way they pressed against it, making themself look even more small and powerless than they had before. They continued to walk forward until they were just in front of the Reporter, towering over the terrified snoop.

The Reporter's mind was short circuiting. They felt absolutely helpless looking back up at the Villain- they knew nothing they could do could save them here. Their fate was completely up to the Villain and they were powerless to do anything about it.

...So why did everything feel so... warm?

The Villain took a moment to just enjoy the sight before reaching a hand down to firmly yet harmlessly grab the Reporter's cheek.

The Villain said nothing, watching the Reporter lightly squirm under them- underneath their intimidating appearance, though, their heart was melting at the pretty little thing that found themself in such a predicament. They didn't want to actually hurt them... but, of course, they couldn't just let the snoop go.

"You know, that's some sensitive information you've now got in your pretty little head..." The Villain paused to see the Reporter squirm in place just a little more, too nervous to keep still but not wanting to move. Adorable~

They leaned in, face inches away from the Reporter's. "I suppose I'll just have to make sure it doesn't leave this lair."

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

Villain tightened the last knot, stepping back to look over their handiwork. The lights had been turned on by now, so the Reporter was visible in all their glory. Bound to a chair, arms wrapped like a boxtie behind it and legs firmly held together under it, the two connected with a length of rope that ensured they stayed sat down, and the whole look capped off with a cute little white cloth wrapped over the Reporter's mouth for a gag. They weren't being particularly loud or anything, Villain just thought it'd look pretty.

Reporter had calmed down more by now, since at least they knew they weren't gonna be killed. The feeling of the bindings holding them firmly in place wasn't as uncomfortable as they expected- in fact, it felt... nice?

"So." Reporter flinched at the firm voice, turning their attention back to the Villain in an instant.

Villain leaned over them again- Reporter figured the rising heat in their cheeks was just the gag holding in body heat- and snatched the camera still hanging from Reporter's neck strap, said strap completely snapping in half. Reporter struggled a little at the careless breaking of their equipment as Villain looked over the camera itself briefly before checking out the saved photos.

"You got quite a lot, hmm?" Villain grumbled, Reporter feeling mildly embarrassed watching them freely poke around with their equipment.

Villain looked through a few out of curiosity before opening the settings and wiping the data, dropping the camera back on Reporter's lap as it deleted the evidence right in front of them, getting more precious little frustrated struggles out of them.

"I'm impressed you were even able to make it this far." Villain mused as Reporter looked down angrily yet helplessly at the camera in their lap, deleting everything they came here for. It was frustrating to watch, but... something about the teasing sent a warm tingle through their spine. Something about the Villain taking so much pleasure in taunting them, the fact they couldn't do anything about it... God, why did they keep mentally circling back to focusing on how helpless they were?

...Why was something so enjoyable about the thought?

Villain reached a hand down and grabbed Reporter's chin, tilting their head up to look at them. "I suppose I'll have to come up with an apt punishment for being such an inconvenience, hmm?"

The words sent another warm rush through Reporter's body- visible in a small shudder from them.

They glared back, giving Villain some attitude now that the pure fear had subsided... but all it took was Villain narrowing their eyes for them to backtrack to a more defeated expression, getting a teasing giggle out of Villain.

"Aww, it takes so little for you to be put back in your place~" Villain teased as Reporter squirmed more, their words having far more of an effect than expected. "Don't give me sass when you can't take the slightest amount of pushback, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

The petname got Reporter squirming again, finally fully acknowledging there was absolutely something about the situation affecting them more than the fear. The Villain's delighted, cocky giggle only hammered the point home as Reporter struggled under their gaze.

They shouldn't like this. Nothing about their current situation felt like anything that should be enjoyable, but every little pull against their restraints reminding them of just how powerless they were in this scenario sent another wave of warmth through their body they couldn't ignore.

The Villain couldn't get enough of it, either. Every fruitless squirm from their adorable captive made them want to let out an 'awwwh~', every short-lived moment of defiance they shut down gave them a sense of control losing every fight against the Hero had left them wanting...

Reporter badly hoped they wouldn't be free anytime soon, and Villain was going to make VERY sure of it.

[ovwechoes]

Twin Obsessions: Sombra x Reader (Fem)

Thank you for the request @dolenjoyer304 ! Here's a short yandere fic - any opinions or suggestions are always accepted, and my requests are open for anything/everything overwatch related c: Themes: obsession, stalking, mutual feelings, WLW, blood, drug use/mention & suggestive slightly. Enjoy!

Sombra was everything you wanted. That much was clear to anyone who knew you. All you wanted was her, and your love for her to be accepted, nourished, cherished. You were willing to do anything you could to achieve this, no matter who you had to walk over.

It was something instinctual when you first saw her, as though she was made perfectly for you. You were just enjoying your day, exploring your newfound home in Dorado, trying to stay safe away from any violence that passed your way when you noticed her in the shadows. Her hair glowed in the darkness, underneath her hood. You didn't know who she was at first, and when you tried to take a picture to show someone else incase they knew, she was gone. It was just a split second, and yet you were already left feeling lonely, as though part of you was missing. All you could truly remember about her, was her eyes. Her eyes spoke to you in a way no one else's ever had. 'I want you'. That's what you saw when you looked into her brown, intense, almost black eyes. You were mesmerised from the moment you saw her in Mexico, and you wanted nothing more but to be hers, to show her the love she deserved. You spent weeks trying to find out her possible identity, and even went to extreme lengths of blackmailing Los Muertos members into telling you who she was. It was all worth it; you had found out her name was Sombra, she's from Dorado as well, and she's an infamous hacker who was especially known for her skills with manipulation and blackmail. She was perfect for you, and you knew from that moment on, that you would do anything to make her yours.

Part of that was perfecting your hacking skills and making sure you were up to par to be in her realm. You knew she would trust you more if you knew what you were talking about, so you made it your mission to hone in on your skills and master your ability to hack, manipulate, and control media at your whim. It was something you drove yourself insane trying to do, and went through hell and back to get done, but it was worth it when you were able to get through to Sombra's personal computer. Using every connection you could in the hacker realm was finally paying off.

You had access to her photos, her plans, her data breaches, her intel on other organisations, everything. So, you started digging. Digging for anything to help you figure out how she felt about you. You found her exes, she still kept them saved in her emails and contacts. Pathetic. It's somewhat adorable, but you knew you were going to be better for her, and knew you could make her feel something entirely different to them. They were nothing compared to you. And so, you kept digging, searching for something you can use to figure out where she was, where she was going to be, who she was going to be with. Anything you could get your hands on was yours. And that's when you found it - an invitation to an underground rave, being held in an abandoned nightclub in the outskirts of Dorado. This was your chance, maybe your only chance. You noticed another name on the invite, one you didn't recognise at this moment; Carmen Reyes. Whoever that was, they didn't deserve to be going with Sombra. It made your stomach drop seeing someone else possibly with her. Your mind was flooded with the possibilities of what might happen, and it made you feel nauseous, like it was cosmically wrong. You had no option but to fix this mistake, and show Olivia who she truly deserves to have in her life.

The night of the rave, you made sure to wear something you could easily dispose of. Something revealing though, to show off your curves and show Olivia how desirable you are. Maybe she'll leave this Carmen and choose you once and for all. Just maybe. It's something you were willing to try before resorting to it. That was always still going to be a possibility, so you brought with you a pocket knife - nothing fancy, but just enough to rectify this mistake if needed. All you were now focused on was meeting Olivia again, and showing her how much you love her. This rave was the perfect place to go.

You had doctored an invite based on Olivia's with your own name, and made sure it was undetectable as an entry pass. You weren't willing to risk being stopped at the door like you were nothing. You had an objective, and you would do anything to complete it. As you entered the club, you noticed truly how beautiful it was. You don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't this. 'Sombra has impeccable taste' you thought to yourself. And she truly did. The nightclub was high-tech, despite looking decrepit and ruined on the outside. Lights flickered across the room, highlighting the bodies squashed against each other like sardines in a tin can. You were transfixed by the level of tech you saw being sold around the edges of the warehouse; optical enhancements, AR implants, biometric scanner bypassers, nanotechnology, and synthetic drugs meant to induce an acid trip that lasts days on end. You knew this rave was a front for the black market, and yet you weren't scared. You were surrounded by criminals, and yet never felt safer knowing Olivia was somewhere in the room with you.

That's when you felt it; a cold, metal hand holding your shoulder from behind. You somehow knew it was a familiar woman, someone you were looking for. Deep down you knew, and yet you were terrified to turn around. When you did, you were greeted by Olivia's cunning and slick smile. Confusion set, and you stared on at her in awe. She was more beautiful than the first time you saw her - her eyes looked pitch black when the lights of the rave weren't shining on them, her skin soft and delicate. You wanted to touch it, feel it under your fingertips, trace every outline of her body, but needed to keep yourself composed.

"I know why you're here, mija." She said in a sly way, as though she was a wolf toying with it's prey, observing it's every move to analyse it's reactions. She savoured in your confusion, and you felt tiny underneath her gaze. How could she have known? Does this mean she doesn't feel the same way? You couldn't stop thinking of the negatives. You felt disgusted knowing she knew and yet still came with someone else. How could she. Before you could speak, and unfamiliar voice chimed in and interrupted your moment. It was her. You knew it was. Carmen Reyes. You already felt sick to your stomach looking at her - the total opposite of you. How could Sombra, of all people, have good taste in events but have such terrible taste in women? It confused you, but not long enough before she uttered something to Olivia in an abrupt manner.

"Come on, what are you doing? I thought we were going to get a bump. Who is this anyways?" Carmen spoke, before moving her gaze from Sombra to you, with her expression shifting from confused to disgusted. You were appalled that Olivia would accept someone like her into her life, it was deplorable. You stared back at her, eager to somehow make her regret her choices. Sombra laughed, didn't bother to reply to her but kissed her cheek and spoke to you in a soft, kind manner. "Enjoy yourself for me, you deserve it." She said, before being led to the bathrooms by Carmen, leaving you high and dry, feeling nauseated and sickened by what you just experienced. You gave yourself some time to think logically what to do next, but the anger inside you couldn't be tamed, and you had no other option but to do it. It's lucky that you prepared for this scenario.

As you watched them fade into the darkness of the nightclub, you calculated your next moves carefully. You let the anger inside you drive your desire to get rid of Carmen. Sombra didn't deserve her, she deserved you. You could make her happy, and could make her feel whole. You could give her everything she could possibly ever ask for, and yet why is she following Carmen? As she walked away, you noticed her eyes returning back to you, a smile plastered on her face, tempting you. She wanted you to follow. You knew she did. Just like you knew the first time she wanted you from her eyes.

You decided to wait longer, give yourself some more time to create distance between you and Carmen. You fiddled with the pocket knife in your hands, tracing the blade and recognising the feeling of burning blood seeping from your fingertip. That's when you realised, it wouldn't be enough. You decided to find something else, something better, to punish Carmen with at one of the several venders selling illegal weapons. 'If I'm going to kill her, I might as well do it with something worth my time', you thought to yourself. As long as it hurt her, and made clear to Olivia how undeserving of her love she is, it would work. You saw the perfect weapon after spending 10 minutes window shopping; a holo-dagger. It was an infamous stealth weapon, with a blade that was near invisible when retracted from it's handle. It was small enough to be concealed, and deadly enough to do exactly what you wanted. It was a hefty price, but nothing could cost as much as Olivia's love for you would in the long run. You bought it, and ditched your pocket knife. There was no need for it anymore, and you were ready now to follow them into the bathroom.

As you entered the bathroom, you immediately could smell the air was thick with the familiar scent of sex and neuroflare, a synthetic drug that had the same effect as Adderall with a euphoric high like weed. It was a sickly sweet smell, as though you mixed vanilla with sweat and bodily fluids. It was enough to get you high alone, but you made sure to focus. You saw littered along the walls graffiti tags from all kinds of criminals (none of whom you recognised), with the tiniest symbol that you knew was associated with Sombra and her line of work on the very last stall. No one else was there, and you knew they were cooped up in that last stall based on the sounds of sniffling, and coughing you heard coming from there. This was the perfect moment to strike, and nothing was stopping you now.

As you slammed on the door as hard as you could, you heard shuffling and scattered swears in a mixture of English and Spanish. As they slowly unlocked the door, you were greeted with the familiar, comforting sight of Olivia, looking dishevelled and messy. Her eyes were cunning, hiding something inside her. And just as she was about to speak, a familiar, rotten voice bombarded your ears. "I knew you'd follow us, who even are you? What do you want, freak?" Carmen spoke, her words filled with venom as her hands rubbed her nose restlessly. Her ugliness shone through from inside her, and it reassured you that your plans were justified. You stood there silently, watching Carmen shove herself past Olivia as though she was a guard dog - not much of one though.

As she shouted cruel, vile things at you, pushing you against the sinks across the stalls, piercing you with her nails in a pathetic attempt of dominating you, you prepared the holo-dagger and pushed the blade from it's handle. She had no idea what was to come, and you felt adrenaline rush through you body, encouraging you to do what you had to this whole time. The blade pierced her stomach quickly, subsequently quieting the harsh voice that pierced your ears before. Her hands grabbed at your clothes, desperate to hold onto you to keep herself up. You kept moving the blade and subsequently covering yourself with her blood. It felt... euphoric. Who needed drugs when you could get rid of someone who stood between you and your loved one? Your soulmate, even? As she slid down your body, and went limp, Olivia stepped over Carmen's body and moved closer to you, barely paying attention to the person she was once loved up on. What was she going to do? Run? Hide? Cry? You didn't know, and the anxiety killed you deep down.

"I didn't think you had it in you for a second, cariño. And a holo-dagger too? Must've cost you a pretty penny." She stated, her smile growing bigger and stretching as her hands wandered towards yours, touching the blade of the dagger with admiration. Her eyes looked into yours and that's when you realised something. "You knew I hacked you didn't you? That's what you meant before, right?" you asked, somewhat impressed, and somewhat nervous. Your stomach had butterflies, and you couldn't think clearly after everything that happened in front of you. All that Olivia did was smile, and place a hand on your chin, holding the gaze you both held in place. "Of course, do you really think I wouldn't see everything you were doing? Who's to say I didn't let you hack me? I saw it all, I'm just surprised you didn't know I was watching everything you did too." Her cunning personality shone through her words, as she continued explaining herself. Everything was starting to piece itself together.

"I wanted to test you, see if you felt the same way I did about you. From the moment I saw you in the street, I knew you were the one. After I saw you, I couldn't stop thinking about you, mi vida. I watched everything you did, everything you planned, and saw the anger on your face when you read her name on the invite. You're the only one I want, and you've proven yourself to me." Her words were sophisticated, carefully crafted, as though she read your mind and knew exactly what you wanted her to say in an idealistic world. A sudden wave of relaxation hit you, and you finally understood she was just like you. She was enamoured with you, faking her affections for Carmen just to see what you'd do. It was both infuriating and incredibly considerate. You finally felt the way you wanted to - loved and understood. This wasn't the end though, and as you both stood there, stained with crimson blood that seeped into your skin, you both knew that this was just the beginning. There's no going back, Sombra made it clear that you couldn't leave now after your twin obsessions were finally exposed for what they truly were.

[biginkyboyo13]

Hello I am here to Wreck it Ralph au brainrot again, teehee

Zamn, I'm back here again.

I really love seeing people's interpretations of a redemption arc for Turbo, those are always fun, he is a silly guy (who committed countless ethical crimes). I have not read every single fanfic (and I do not plan to, oh god there would be too many), but I've read a few and boy do I love seeing creative people do their thing, hell yeah!

Be cringe, be free. Make those aus, create those ocs, make silly fanfics and amazing fanart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, here's my ramblings on a stupid au

What if they both existed?

What if you could have Turbo and King Candy and they both had their own redemption of sorts? That would be kinda neat I think....anyways, I thought too hard about this, so here we go, epic transition-

----------------------------------owo--------

A virus has settled itself in the depths of Sugar Rush's code room. It should be completely obvious where it came from, who caused it.

Somehow, this virus escapes the code room, hellbent on learning all it can before assimilation. Just because it's a virus, doesn't mean it's mindless after all.

Maybe it already knew about Turbo, seeing as it was probably formed because of him. Did he intend that? Probably not, but you can't expect Turbo to think about the consequences of his actions, that is literally the only thing he's incapable of doing.

People who die outside of their game are never gone. Not fully. Have they been destroyed and reduced to 1s and 0s? Yeah. But they aren't gone. They've become part of the fabric of the game, a whisper, barely a memory. But, they could be plucked out of that ocean of data.

A virus is dangerous on its own. A virus who knows how death works (or doesn't work) is even more dangerous. Point being, the virus decides it wants to have a little fun and bring back Cybug King Candy. Not to let him live, not at all. Instead, the virus is doing what it does best, and infects the host, ripping the original out and taking its place. Where does King Candy go? Between this monster's claws, where it tries to tear him apart. All it does, though, is literally tear him apart. There's two of them now, oh god.

Now you have Turbo and King Candy, and they are probably not too happy about being brought back, extracted, split in half, and probably almost assimilated into the virus.

Maybe Vanellope and Ralph were feeling especially nice that day, or maybe they were acting on instinct because there's now a much, much bigger threat, but perhaps they save these two numbskulls.

And now, they have two very, very, very big problems on their hands. There is a rogue virus in the arcade, and Turbo/King Candy are alive.

Here's some extra small ideas I had

- I think this would take place a couple years in the future. Assuming this is a universe where arcades didn't go out of business, everyone is still doing just fine.

- Debatable if Fix it Felix Jr. is still plugged in. Old game, all that. I wouldn't just immediately say it's been unplugged, but that's on my mind a little bit (they all live in Vanellope's castle, someone's got to)

- Turbo and King Candy are still total dickwads. Turbo is a brat, King Candy is also a brat. I think when separated they would clash immensely. Turbo took all the whiny, childish parts with him, as those were likely his to begin with. King Candy kept the happy, cheery, mass manipulator side.

- I will never acknowledge the sequel, Ralph is still the fun uncle/father figure for Vanellope, and Vanellope doesn't want to leave Sugar Rush. Also, Felix and Calhoun ftw

That's literally all I have rn, I haven't thought super hard about this yet, it's not great I know

That's my edgy, angsty au beginning. Will I ever do something with it? I have no clue! Perhaps it will be written on Ao3. That, or it's just gonna exist here and that's cool I think.

Anyways byyyyyye

[ovenproofowl]

a lot of people have said it, but I’m throwing in my two cents just to get it off my chest.

Picard season 3 was . Bad . For a LOT of reasons . It felt like - as many before me have expressed - a self-insert fanfic with the dullest self-insert in history.

Jack Crusher wasn’t much of a character but he could have had some promise if they hadn’t spent an aggravating amount of time having him decree how different he always felt, you guys. Did you get that part? He’d always felt different. That sort of dialogue might have flown if we were dealing with Picard’s adolescent son, but instead we’re dealing with a 24 year old played by a 35 year old who looks every bit his age. (It was a hard 24 years, we must assume.)

The reason that Jack Crusher didn’t work for me personally, though, wasn’t because of how cliché his character was. I would have let that pass much easier if it wasn’t for the big ol’ elephant in the room. And that is simply that :

JACK CRUSHER WAS NEVER NECESSARY

Jack may have served a purpose to the storyline that was presented if only because he was the sole reason there was a Big Bad to be defeated in the first place. Everyone wanted to kidnap him, he brought the old gang back together just to protect him and then later save him from said Big Bad which was also actually .. him. Everything Was About Jack. But I’m not talking about the main plot. I Really Don’t Want to Talk About the Main Plot. Ever. What I want to talk about is what Jack represented that made him so unnecessary:

He was intended to represent Jean-Luc Picard’s only reason to start living.

Personally, that really, really offended me. Picard didn’t need to have a biological kid to have a purpose. In fact, it’s been established time and time again that he wasn’t ever really dad material. More of a... weirdly intense uncle. For a while, he wasn’t a fan of kids at all. Eventually, though, Picard is seen to warm to the idea of letting children within his general vicinity. This starts in TNG and continues on in season 1 of Picard. The Only Categorically Good Season of this whole. show.

In season 1, we see flashbacks of Jean-Luc’s relationship with a young Elnor, how he would read him stories and have sword fights with him. He was an absent father to an adopted child he hadn’t even realised he’d adopted and yet Elnor still fought for his hopeless cause. In much the same way, Picard meets Dahj and then later, Soji. He feels a kinship with these androids because of their connection to Data. He wants to protect Soji becase he couldn’t protect Dahj and Soji even canonically questions whether she should allow Picard to act as her father figure before she begins to remember where she came from. Both of these dynamics were infinitely more interesting and a lot deeper rooted. Soji and Elnor were both young twenty-somethings without parental guidance but found that guidance through Picard. Soji had her connection to Jurati, too, and Elnor had his with Seven and Raffi and that’s what made the whole group so intriguing to follow. They all had interesting connections to each other that had so many avenues to explore.

Unfortunately, the show decided to more or less write Soji and Elnor out of the story come season 2. Elnor was killed off for the majority of the season and only brought back by Q intervention in the last episode. Soji wasn’t even a part of the story at all. And do you know what’s sad about that? What’s really sad? Season 2 was trying to sell us the exact same message as season 3. That Picard needed a reason to live. But, like, not that reason. Not the reasons he’d already been given in the form of his found family with his Romulan and android adopted children, or even the rest of the La Sirena crew. No no no, we can’t have that, better get rid of them. This time, Laris is the focal point. Picard had been avoiding a romantic relationship with her because of a never before mentioned dark history surrounding his mother’s suicide. Because, sure, at this point, why not? While we’re at it, let’s also kill off Rios in the most slap-in-the-face out of character way possible and fling Jurati at the Borg for good measure just so she won’t be around for season 3. Her character development into the Borg Queen was pretty intriguing, but we’ll totally ignore that they even exist post her departure, just for funsies. Oh, and Soji and Elnor? Best not mention them at all come that third and final season. Otherwise, people might get the crazy notion that Picard already had a reason not to hunker down and die at the vinyard at the tender age of 104.

Season 3 picks up where season 2 leaves off in that Picard is now in that aforementioned romantic relationship with Laris. Except, no he isn’t because he immediately gets an emergency call from his ex and literally never sees or talks to Laris ever again. There wasn’t even a throw-away line or implied reference to her, but by now I’m sure you know the reason for that.

That’s right, folks. Because if we were allowed to remember Laris and what she meant to Picard, then we might just remember that other thing. Say it with me now!!

JACK CRUSHER WAS NEVER NECESSARY!!

In summary, there were so many brilliant options to give Picard for signficant found family dynamics, but the show just wasn’t interested in any of them. Season 3 wanted a Picard who had given it all up, who was ready to die because he’d never had a family to pass on his legacy. They wanted him at his lowest so that we’d all rejoice to see him return to the TNG crew. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a massive TNG fan and I could rave about the fan service and nostalgia porn for hours on end. If season 3 had stood alone as a singular unconnected event, it might even have been passable as a warm hug from old and beloved characters with some fun new spins to their stories along the way, juust so long as you didn’t squint too hard at the actual attempt at plot writing going on in the background.

But the fact of the matter is, Picard season 3 came far too late into the game. Season 1 held the building blocks to something new and interesting. By the end of season 2, it was becoming clear we were never going to see those blocks stand. By season 3, those blocks were just scattered headstones in a graveyard.

They teased us with the potential new show of Captain Seven and her Number One Raffi Musiker and that might have just been okay. . .

. . .If the La Sirena Crew had been allowed to be a part of that future.

In closing: Picard season 3? Too little, too late, mate. 👎🏻