#it's been sucking out my ability to connect to anyone or feel anything

[suppuration]

that thing i said had me feeling deranged a while back has me excessively deranged tonight

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt27

Beginning   Previous Next

Marinette walked down the stairs to find Cass scowling at Bruce and signing rapidly. Selina was whispering with her Maman, who looked far too amused, so Cass had to be laying into him pretty hard. Damian was looking on in confusion, but the other boys were nodding along with whatever her twin was saying. She really needed to have Cass teach her to sign. Chloe appeared next to her.

"I'm actually learning new terms. You sister is extremely creative with swearing." Of course, that would be what impressed Chloe. Mari had to wonder how much of it was just not knowing common terms, so she made up her own.

"I don't want to mess up her relationship with him." Chloe scoffed.

"Given the way the others are reacting, this isn't the first, or worst, of his overstepping. I'm thinking this is a long overdue rant."

"You did what when I was with Babs?" Dick's indignant shout startled most of the room. "Yeah, I'm never bringing anyone home ever again. Not unless I've been married for two years." Mari sent Chloe a questioning glance.

"Trust me, you don't want to know." Yeah, if Chloe was saying that... she really didn't want to know.

"You've never known when to butt out, old man. The difference this time is that you don't have any right to butt in in the first place." Jason's tone was downright hostile.

"She's my daughter."

"A biological connection doesn't mean you own me. I'll be eighteen in three months anyway and I'm completely financially independent, so if you want any type of relationship with me, it's going to be on my terms, Mr. Wayne. Those terms will include not interfering in my relationships with others, romantic or otherwise, and not telling me how I'm allowed to live my life." He looked like he was going to argue, but Cass signed at him before standing beside Mari. He looked at the boys for help, but the only one not glaring at him was Damian.

"Marinette, you're young. You have no idea the danger-"

"Do not pretend you know anything about me or my life, let alone what I do and do not know. I assure you, I know what I'm doing, and Luka and Kagami are not a threat or a problem. If you can't accept that, then you can leave." She hadn't wanted to get to this point so soon, especially since it put Cass's ability to stay in question. Unfortunately, she also wasn't willing to set a precedent with him by letting him think he could act this way with her. She'd been around enough powerful people to know that if she didn't set boundaries now, she'd never be able to enforce them. Jagged was proof of that.

"Perhaps we should discuss this privately." No way was that happening. She could almost see the hero lecture waiting to burst out of him.

"After what you just tried to pull, and your apparent history of browbeating your kids into things, we're not about to let that happen." Tom's voice was harder than she'd ever heard it. "If you won't respect my daughter's boundaries, you'll be asked to leave." The emphasis he put on 'my daughter' caused Bruce to flinch. She would feel worse about it if not for the fact that all her siblings, besides Damian, seemed to approve of it.

"I think we should separate for the time being, and try this again later. Tempers are high, so we all need space to calm down." Sabine sounded cheerful enough, but there was a hard edge to her words that everyone caught. As much as Mari thought it was a good idea, they were in a bit of a time crunch.

"Given that they're only going to be here for a week, it might be best to get things settled. But, if Bruce isn't willing to compromise, there's not much point in continuing this discussion." She could hear how tired she sounded and given the concerned looks at her and glares at Bruce, everyone else could, too.

"By compromise you mean letting you decide everything." The sulkiness in Bruce's voice made her roll her eyes. Yes, this had to suck for him, but he couldn't honestly expect her to let him just take over her life.

"No, but there are going to be things that aren't negotiable. I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, and I'd appreciate the same courtesy. We know next to nothing about eachother, and until we do it's not really fair to have an opinion on each other's lives." He didn't seem to know what to do with that. She was sure that, for a man used to being in charge, it wasn't something he had experience with. "I want to get to know you, all of you, but I'm not going to change who I am or how I live my life to do it. If you can't accept that, you can leave."

Cass hugged her from behind, and Mari could feel her twin glaring at Bruce. As much as she had hoped it wouldn't be necessary, it was obvious who Cass would side with in this. Of the boys, Jason seemed firmly entrenched on her side, Dick and Tim were more of a neutral, and Damian just seemed confused, but he'd most likely side with Bruce for the time being. Hopefully, it wouldn't destroy her chance of getting to know him permanently. When it became obvious Bruce either couldn't or wouldn't back down, Selina went over to start whispering in his ear. Alfred had been scarily silent through everything, and Mari really wasn't certain what to make of it.

"You need my help." Selina rolled her eyes, and Alfred just shook his head. The man really needed to learn when to back down.

"I need Cass. That's it." He flinched, and even the boys were trading looks. Bruce was closing off. She could see it. "I need to show Cass her new school. Why don't you take the evening to think things over? We can try this again tomorrow when everyone is calmer." Bruce looked about ready to explode.

"That sounds like a good idea. Master Bruce, we should head back to the hotel." The glare Bruce sent Alfred didn't phase the man at all. The stern look he sent back had the boys looking like they were ready to wet themselves.

"Fine." Bruce signed something at Cass and she felt her twin stiffen up behind her. Chloe looked like she was about to start screaming at him, too.

"Miss Cassandra will be staying with Miss Marinette. Indefinately." Alfred's tone was frigid and just about everyone seemed to be cowering or eyeing the man like he was going to explode. Even Bruce hunched in on himself a tiny bit. "Now we really should be on our way."

Mari had a feeling Alfred was going to be having a long conversation with Bruce. She just hoped it had the desired outcome. The man obviously had control issues, and she couldn't afford to have him try to take over her life. She had a feeling she was already going to have a major issue with Batman trying to step on her toes once he actually went through an Akuma attack. She couldn't count on there not being one before he and the others went home. Not to mention, if she'd heard right, he could just use some tech the Justice League had to teleport back at any time. She'd have to ask Cass about that, too.

Selina practically pushed Bruce out the door, while the boys followed under Alfred's gaze. Before going joining the rest, Jason shoved a piece of paper in her hand with a wink. She had a feeling he was one brother she could count on not to run to Bruce with information.

Once they were all out of the door, Mari felt herself relax. She felt terrible that things had gone downhill so quickly, but there really wasn't another option at this point. She couldn't afford to show weakness. There was far too much at stake, both in her personal life and as a hero. Cass tightened her hold on Mari.

"He needs time. He'll calm down."

"Unfortunately, time isn't something we have right now. If this doesn't get better, I'm going to have to force him to leave Paris before Hawkmoth is back in fighting form." She didn't even want to think about how much that would piss him off. She had a feeling Batman's ego wouldn't take too well to being thrown out of a city by another hero. Alfred and Selina would take her side... at least she thought so.

"Alfred will make things right." She wasn't quite sure what Cass meant by that, but she hoped she was right. She opened the paper that Jason handed her and heard Cass giggle behind her.

If you need someone to help you hassle B, give me a shout. ~Jason

It had five phone numbers on it. If she didn't know his 'occupation', it would seem excessive. It did mean she had at least one of her brothers on her side when it came to Bruce though. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be determined.

"Why don't we head over to the school? There are a few clubs meeting, so I know the building is open. That way, you can get a feel for the layout before tomorrow." She knew it would stress Cass out if they didn't scope out the building. It was going to be bad enough being around so many new people.

"You don't want to eat first?" Given the looks her Maman was shooting at the door, she was more worried about them running into Bruce than the actual food, but it was a good idea anyway.

"Of course, Maman. We wouldn't want it to go to waste." Especially since she made enough to feed the whole city again. Maybe she should text Jason and see if he wanted to meet them at the school and they could bring him some. "Maybe we could take some to go as well. I wanted to show Cass the houseboat, and if it's late enough, we might stay there." It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth.

"Probably a good idea. It'll give your father and I time to talk to Bruce should he decide to come looking for you." She really hoped he didn't. Her Maman might actually kill him. She would text Selina or Alfred to make sure he didn't come over, but she had a feeling that would have the opposite effect she was looking for. After they ate and while her Maman was boxing up food, her Papa motioned her out into the hallway.

"What's wrong?" She heard the panic in her own voice and her Papa winced.

"Nothing's wrong. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to make sure you were handling everything alright. I know things have been tense, and you tend to overthink everything without letting anyone know." She leaned forward slightly, and that's all it took for him to envelop her in a hug. Her Papa gave the best hugs.

"What if he makes her go back?" She knew it was an irrational thought, but it wouldn't go away. Her Papa hugged her tighter.

"That's not going to happen. We won't let it, and more importantly, Cass won't let it. I truly don't believe there's a force strong enough to separate the two of you. And if there is, Plagg will get rid of it." Marinette started giggling and couldn't stop. It was a little disturbing that she found the image of Plagg getting rid or Bruce amusing, but she was willing to chalk it up to stress.

Beginning   Previous Next

Tag List

@ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @shamefullove @user00000003 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @galla02006 @thestressmademedoit @toodaloo-kangaroo @i-shizen @necromancerflight @astoriaandromeda @devils-wrath @adrestar @jayjayspixiepop @lilfuturescars @unoriginalmess @couffeeine @toxicaurayt1  @krispydefendorpolice @itriedwritingandhereiam @angie500

[genericpuff]

Rachel "Retcon" Smythe Strikes Again!

Okay, so I've been seeing pictures of Volume 4 of Lore Olympus floating around, and people are ALREADY FINDING RETCONS.

Most notably so far, some added panels in the Hades and Apollo confrontation that happens outside Artemis' house (when Persephone steals Apollo's lyre) in Episode 81.

This is the original scene, for anyone who needs a refresher:

Aaaand here are the panels that were added.

(all pictures of Volume 4 are courtesy @iwannagutyou on IG!!! thank you for giving me permission to use these! <3)

First of all, the art. It's so noticeably bad. You can tell Rachel has completely lost her ability to draw these characters in the S1 style, I'm fairly certain she took the panel of Hades from the old version and just copy pasted it to try and get around it (look at the posing) but it's incredibly obvious looking at that third panel that LO is not and can never be what it was back in 2017-2019. Those first two panels seem like they were copy pasted from the previous ones, which is just sad if those are the lengths she has to go to to come even close to replicating the older style.

Now, this just might be due to camera translation, it could very well look better IRL, but the colors just look so incredibly desaturated and the lines blurred out, to the point that people are doing double takes over whether or not panels have been directly changed - they haven't been, they've just been so sucked dry of their colors that they look off enough to cast suspicion.

If anything it's a harsh reminder that LO has kinda always had art problems, especially with its lazy humor and stupid meme faces.

Of course, to be fair, color loss can happen in print, but seeing how slapped together these books tend to be, I wouldn't be surprised if they just didn't put in the effort to convert the page art to CMYK or at least tinker with the saturation in editing some more to ensure it would come out more vibrant in print.

Now. Excuse me while I go on a bit of a crackpot rant here. Newbie puff pals beware, because this is gonna get dicey and you're about to learn where my tinfoil-hat rep comes from but I just have to talk about it.

Back to the added Apollo panels, where Persephone asks Hades not to hurt him and he looks nervous before she says "I just want him to leave".

Maybe it's just me, but it's a little weird that THESE are the panels they decided they needed to add. It's weird that she's asking Hades not to hurt Apollo when she's about to break into his car and steal his lyre just a few moments later. It's weird that the implication seems to be that she's referring to Hades' act of violence towards Tori... but Persephone doesn't know that's happened yet. So this feels like an unnecessary retcon that's doing more harm than good.

But I feel like the timing of this is kinda messed up as well, as this book released just days after the release of the last FP episode in which Apollo has his 'side' of the assault story told through his perspective, which is often considered a HUGE no-no in writing assault stories because it often comes with the implication that it's asking for empathy from the audience. We already know Apollo is delusional, we already know he thinks him and Persephone are meant to be despite her constant rejection of him, we didn't need a flashback from his own warped perspective explaining that very thing, the only purpose to do such a thing this late in the game would be to try and get the audience to 'connect' with him (it's giving S3 Bryce from 13 Reasons Why vibes). Now we have this scene of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt him (despite the structure of the episode being literally fine before, this change wasn't needed) getting snuck into the physical book release just a couple days after the newest FP tried to present Apollo in an empathetic light (and let me tell you, that's a whole essay and a half that I'll be getting into eventually).

Shit, if I wanted to get REAL Pepe Sylvia with it, I might say that hypothetically, the whole point of the random Leuce abuse episode - despite Persephone having no way of knowing what she attempted as Hades hadn't told her and she wasn't there to see it and we weren't shown her overhearing them in any way - and the following episode that was mostly padding of Hades and Persephone having sex - no consequences or follow-up whatsoever to the Leuce scene - was just to pad out the episode release schedule and buy time until the book came out so that Rachel could release that Apollo POV episode right before the book came out and revealed those new added scenes of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt Apollo, in what could be a sly artificial attempt at minimizing the SA plot so Rachel can finally just brush aside the one major plot point she regretted writing the most. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Rachel's controlled the pace of her comic to release certain moments at certain times that line up with IRL events.

But, y'know. I'm gonna quit on that thought while I'm ahead because it's probably making my credibility meter drop into the red. My ADHD has been real bad lately and it's really starting to show LMAO All ima say is that IDK who Rachel thinks she's fooling here, this kind of shit is stupid easy to fact check when the digital version of the comic is available online to read.

To end on a much funnier and lighter note, remember how Rachel tried to retcon the Demeter/Hera/Hestia relationship by changing the line "I miss my sisters" to "I miss my friends"? Well, there was one panel that had been missed in the webtoons version that still refers to them as sisters. You can still find this unedited line in Episode 78.

And uh. They forgot to fix it again for the book.

It's permanent now. That's permanent marker. It would have cost them nothing to find this in the webtoon version and fix it before it got sent to the book editors. Now it's gonna cost them thousands because the book editors didn't bother (or know) to check.

There's also this... weird shit going on with the speech bubbles. Like, they're REALLY FUCKING OVERDOING IT with the speech bubble outlines. I don't know who made this choice but it was a bad one. Gross. Don't do that. It looks so cheap.

But let's be real, at this point I feel like the book editors are just outright sabotaging Rachel because who the fuck calls themselves a professional when they do this shit-

Oh, and there's no bonus episode, just sketches. Which is fine. But it makes me chuckle to think that Rachel just didn't have time in her already razor-thin buffer to draw up a new episode to pass off as "cut content".

[chronically-ghosted]

Second Base.

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 3712

summary: you try out second base; hand stuff only, but it changes things between you two, as much as you don't want it to.

warnings/tags: cute little outfits designed to drive max nuts, hand jobs (m and f receiving), more blood, fangs, one emotionally unavailable vampire

a/n: this contains one of my favorite lines i've ever written!

Prev | Next | Series Masterlist

🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Second base.

Because you aren’t actual sadists or masochists, after the first bite, your sex life with Max went back to normal. Well, as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night ever was in the first place. Okay – as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night who is Max Phillips ever was in the first place. Which is to say, often, hard, and loud. It had been weeks since you’d seen that worried look of consternation, that sweet vulnerability he expressed, as if feeding on you might be the thing that kills you and not being railed against your couch for the better part of an entire day. Sometimes you wished he had much respect for your ability to walk upright as he did your jugular vein. 

On some level, you were aware that his recent overexuberance was in part due to that vulnerability. As if you might lift the curtain and find that the man behind it all might leave you wanting. Truly a frat boy at heart, Max struggled to express anything that couldn’t be summed up with the three “ings” – licking, sucking, and fucking, obviously – but now, he had been exposed as someone capable of those deeper feelings, as if he had been the one to split open a vein for you. And despite the heavenly glow you indulged in after the first bite, you really weren’t quite sure how you felt about it all. You hadn’t started dating Max with any illusions about who exactly he is. In fact, you might have started fucking him in the first place because it seemed wildly out of character that he or you would get attached at all – to anyone or anything. The dating thing just sort of happened, when you both came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time: no one else was really doing it for you, so why not? So what if you only directly referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend in the privacy of your own apartment, or his? So what if half of the office was entirely clueless about your relationship and the other half was actively placing “secret” bets about how long you two had been fucking? Annoyingly, Tim had been the one to be almost right: “six months ago, I’m telling you, man. That’s when he stopped eating secretaries and she got so much nicer.”

Technically, he stopped eating secretaries about a month into your relationship, and what Tim accidentally overheard was not him “eating” a “secretary”, but you weren’t about to correct him. But Max found it all hilarious: “he’s right, you’re so much nicer when that pussy has been taken care of. But I like it when you’re mean.” 

You actively choose not to think about what he meant by a “deep emotional connection” last time.

Fine, Phillips, I’ll show you how mean I can be.

“Nope, no, uh uh.” 

You put your hand just over the frilly blue lace on your hip. “I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem.” 

It had been about a month since first base and while Max had gotten notably more relaxed around you seeing him eat – he now occasionally walked around your apartment with his food in an opaque smoothie tumbler with a straw – he was still very strict about moving onto second base. 

Which, if left up to him, meant you’d be wearing a straight jacket and thick flannel pajamas. 

“Max, if we’re ever going to do this thing for real, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me naked. I’m not letting you fuck me and bite me while I’m in riot gear.”

“Okay, but, baby,” he whines and he can’t help himself from rubbing the satin bow above your crotch between his fingers. “You look like a birthday cake.” 

Is the baby blue lingerie with a strapless bra that catches around your biceps with white lace a bit overboard? Yes. But last time was ridiculous.

Max frowns, his visible pout morphing into something subtly dangerous as he realizes he can unpeel your bra with a string in the back. “Can’t I just fuck you normally in this and then we’ll try again later?”

You swat his hand away as it sneaks across your ribs. 

“No.” 

“You know, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d think you’re trying to kill me.” Smirking, he drops his hands down to your waist and, not so subtly, curves them around the mold of your ass. Distractedly, he slips one finger under the seam of your panties. You press your hands against his chest and blink up at him coyly. 

“Whatever gave you that impression.” 

He shakes his head, squeezing your ass once. “And I’m supposed to be the soulless demon with a heart of darkness.” 

“So you’ll do this?” 

With a sigh and his eyebrow jumping, he nods. “Yeah. Fine. Go get on the bed.”

Trying desperately not to squeal, you tear away from his arms and all but run and leap on top of the white towel. Max slips out of his shoes, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You bite your lip, nerves humming in anticipation, as you sit up on your knees to watch him. To your enormous dismay, no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much spit or cum you used, you could not make him purr again. You’d had wet dreams on the idea alone of putting your head against his chest as he vibrated but he swore it was involuntary. “And,” he added as a way to soothe your ego, “I’m pretty sure it can only happen when I’m feeding.”

“Does it happen every time? Like with blood bags or back when you hunted people?”

“No,” was all he said about that.

Max slips his shirt off over his shoulders and goes to work unbuttoning his pants. When they slide off his hips, you frown. 

“The boxers with the hole in the waist? Ooh, baby, I’m so turned on when you make such an effort.” 

He rolls his eyes as he climbs in next to you. “Look, I didn’t think you’d be seeing my underwear and I need to do laundry.”

“You didn’t think I’d see your underwear in a situation where we’re going to specifically jerk each other off?”

Attempting some version of contrite, Max’s gaze falls from your face to your throat, to your clavicle, to your tits, pillowed up for him beneath the blue lace. He leans in as if pulled by magnets. 

“I’m sorry if I thought we’d both be a little more preoccupied.” 

His broad palm smooths across your thigh, around your hips, to just above your tailbone, his nose drawing indistinct lines from your shoulder to your ear. You sort of hate how quickly he can make you not irritated with him. You shift to take him into the cradle of your thighs, when he winds your panties up in his fingers and tugs. The gossamer material tightens just over the seam of your pussy, teasing your clit, you choke. That heated, teasing Max Phillips smirk spreads like hot butter across his lips. 

“What are the rules again?”

“Max,” you whine as you drag your nails over his chest and up his shoulders. But he hesitates, his hand knotting your underwear in his fist. One move and it’ll rub against you again.

“I’ll stop,” he murmurs in a half-sing-song voice. You huff.

“Silver. Bad touch, on your skin. Lightheaded or dizzy, I use the safeword. And,” you sigh. He’s so painfully handsome sometimes it hurts. He’d set out candles again, as if he needed any help in his seduction of you and he just sort of glows. You don’t know if it’s your anticipation or some vampire illusion, but every line on him is blurred. Soft, as if he doesn’t have your pleasure literally in his hands. There it comes again, that small bit of light in his eyes, the emergence of the early morning sun over the horizon. The way he looks at you makes your chest heavy. “And . . . only hand stuff,” you grumble. 

He chuckles, pouting at you in faux-sympathy as he reaches out, other hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Only hand stuff, she’s so sad about it,” he whimpers into your cheek with a high, mocking voice. 

Your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, daring to hold him away as he goes for your mouth. “I swear to god, Max –,”

In one single fluid motion, he pushes on your tailbone, and swings your hips forward as he tackles your mouth with his own, effectively yanking you under him. You huff in surprise, before pulling away to find menace and glee in his eyes. Grins again as he nips with flat teeth on the curve of your neck. 

He plants wet, hot kisses across your chest, heat blooms against your ribs and tunnels down between your legs, as he tongues the softer places along the hollow of your throat, then up the other side of your throat, teasing your earlobe. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “that was mean. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

Pressing your chest up against his, knowing he can feel the squish of your tits, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. His hard cock rubs up against your seam and he lets loose with a muffled groan into your mouth. You roll your hips once with him between you and he turns his head to your jaw, as you both pant at the sensation. 

“You know exactly what I want.” 

His teeth graze you gently. This is an exercise in restraint for you as much as it is him. Given any other night, you’d have his pants off by now, on his back, or behind you, but you refrain. You can’t squeeze him like you want to and that only frustrates you more, makes you heated and ruffled, makes you want more of his skin on you, around you, as if he could smother you. You want to merge your bodies. Your knees dig into his ribs.

He whispers something, too low and fast for you to catch it, but it ends broken and uneasy as if you’re touching something delicate within him. Bending back with one hand, Max reaches between your legs and cups you, one finger barely pressing the wet material back inside you. 

“Was this waiting for me under all those layers?” You nod as he pushes deeper, your mouth dropping open. He kisses your chin, before tucking his head under your jaw again. “No wonder you were burning up.” 

He inhales as if his face was pressed right up against your cunt, two fingers rubbing up and down over that sodden material. It scraps against your clit and it burns. “I could eat you. Just like this.”

“Max, c’mon–,”

“I know, baby, I know.” 

Smearing that pink little bow with the smell of you, he dips his hand under the line of your underwear, past your damp curls, and soothes your overheated sex by filling it with two thick fingers. You arch, brow furrowing, mouth open, fingers clamping down around his shoulders, arousal crawling up your spine, higher and higher the deeper he goes. Max likes the build up, the tease, it’s why his thumb only hovers above your clit, the heat doing half the work for him, as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching almost embarrassing. Behind his hand, his hips swing in time. He groans, deep, into your ear, breathless. 

“Could come like this, baby, could come right like this.” 

The bend of his cock bumps the back of his hand as he thrusts against nothing. You hitch your pelvis up, opening wider, pussy easier within reach, and you forgo any teasing for him, hand sliding right past his boxers, molding your grip around him. He’s hot and leaking all over your fingers. 

“‘Ngh . . . shit, baby.” The arm holding him up shakes. You want to lick the salty precum but there has to be a rule about that, right? If you aren’t so desperate for that final fuck, you would have been a bit more careless. His fingers inside you press up into the places only he knows can send you into oblivion, as if grateful for tearing him apart. His wrist flicks quicker, faster into you, fingers plunging deeper, up to the knuckles, bouncing you as if you were on his cock. You match his speed with your own hand and Max hums, a dark sound verging on distressed. 

You bite your bottom lip, eyes drooping, the rocking motion scraping against your pleasure again and again, like a match scratching against the box one stroke at a time. “Maaax –,” He adds a third finger and you keen, high-pitched and desperate, the width stretching you out for a cock he won’t let you have. You grind against his fingers, the bounce knocking loose every sane thought in your head. 

Opening your eyes, you realize he’s been staring at your tits this whole time. His chest warm and glowing with sweat, his eyes track every bounce and jiggle, the cups of your bra putting them more on display than if you held them up yourself. 

“Where do you want it, darling?” His voice is strained, softer than it should be with your cunt sucking up his fingers. 

Max Phillips doesn’t do cutesy nicknames. Not during sex, not ever. Your his slut. His monsterfucker. Not – 

Your already unspooling mind struggles to grasp at darling before it slips away. 

His cock is throbbing against the palm of your hand. If you could see it, it would be flushed red, the vein at the base protruding. You pump him faster and his hips stutter. He’s so close and so are you. 

But he’s not talking about that. 

“On my tit, Max. Bite me on my tit.” 

With a groan that is all growl, all tension and feral hunger, his arm collapses and he sinks his weight against you. He manages to get his hand out, but yours is still trapped there, pinned between your tender cunt and his painfully hard cock. You writhe. “Max–,” 

His kiss against your lips is a starving sort of one, one that steals the breath from your lungs, wiping any lingering ache temporarily from your body. He licks the inside of your mouth, swallowing the moan that races from your throat into his. It’s all need, desire, a blistering familiarity that you didn’t realize existed between you two. He’s trying to say something with this kiss. 

He doesn’t give you long to read into it, as he pulls back, sinking more into his knees as he mouths the skin under your neck, above your clavicle bone, and in between the valley of your tits. His weight shifts off you, enough to pull your hand out. You arch, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth, using the back of his neck to pull you higher, he groans and licks, and you yank the tie of your bra behind your back. 

“Max, you can –,”

His hand claws at your cups, mouth consuming yours again, the ropes almost stinging your back as they are ripped so fast across your heated skin. Before you lie flat, his hand cups under you, fingers pressing into where the threads burned and forcing you to maintain that bend in your spine. 

The moment is coming. You can feel it. It’s different from a rising orgasm, or the first time he ever sucked your nipple into his mouth. Your lizard brain is sending off warning flares, but you ignore it once again. Those flares arc and bend, your arousal now fire hot. 

His tongue pressed flat, Max draws a long stripe of spit from under your breast, over the weight of it, and up your nipple, where he swirls it between his teeth. Whether Max Phillips was an ass or tits man depended on the day of the week, or whatever was blowing in the air, but he laved attention onto yours like they were the first pair he’d ever seen in his life. The skin on your other breast shines from where his fingers mold around it, smearing your wet juices all over your pebbled skin. He switches over and laps up that smell off you. 

He’s wavering, caught between drawing it out and doing it so instantaneously he might black out and miss the whole thing. Your heart racing, skin almost too sensitive, you feel like you might shudder apart.

“Max, please –,”

He chooses the second approach. 

Without warning, his fangs spring out and he latches onto the skin near the valley of your chest on your right breast. 

You yelp in surprise, pain and pleasure zigzagging like rough scissors from his bite out through the rest of your body.

Okay, that hurts. 

You gasp, bucking, yanking on his hair. “Baby, baby, gentler, be gentle–,”

He swallows and the ache lessens. Hot blood pools out of the spot where his fangs punctured you. It runs warm then cold, teasing like a feather, as it rolls down your stomach. It’s not a lot, but it's more than last time. It stains his chest too.

Slowly, that same sort of miraculous fog sinks down into your bones. The grip on his hair eases, softens, and soon you are petting him against you.

You swear you feel his fangs scrape your heart. 

“That’s good, Max, that’s so good.” Your eyes roll lazily in your head and you nuzzle his hair. “God, how does this feel so good?” 

As though determined to remind you he is more than just fangs, his hand pulls away from the mattress and slides back between your legs. You feel only one finger brush against your folds through your underwear – you’re almost disappointed, go back to using three, Max –

His finger plunges deep, deep inside of you, and you gasp, feet scrambling against the towel, as a swell of pleasure almost smothers you in an overwhelming wave. You nearly choke from the force of it. You were so overly sensitive but the gooey haze didn’t let you realize it until it was too late. You come hard, harder than you thought possible, seeing eons of galaxies and stars behind your eyes, with just one of his fingers inside you and his thumb distractedly circling your clit. 

He feels you gush around his hand, wetting his wrist, and with a moan you can feel in your ribs, he spills in his boxers, the spend running down his thigh and smearing on yours. 

Your entire body goes slack, as if someone had made all your bones disappear. His hips jerk slightly as if his orgasm is still trying to wring him dry before he stills and plucks his head from your chest, unplugging his fangs from the holes he made.

Blood immediately bubbles up from the wound and without his fangs there, it spills freely and violently over your tits, your ribs. The whiplash between your orgasmic high and a full-body weakness sends hot nausea swooping into your stomach and the room spins.

“M-m-ax,” you murmur, barely opening your mouth, your voice weak and thick as if stuffed with cotton balls. 

“Fuck, sorry –,” you can’t quite see him clearly as he moves and suddenly there’s a warmth over your chest, comforting and heavy. The blood trickles to a stop and you breathe deeply. The darkness of the room stabilizes as you fully open your eyes. The room spins but this time pleasantly. 

“Hmm, whoo, wow, ah, okay . . .”

You don’t realize he’s gotten off the bed until the mattress sags again and he’s cleaning you up with cold cotton balls. 

“So, I’m going to take that mindless babbling as a good thing.” He smiles gently, but he’s holding something back. He keeps his head low like he doesn’t want you to see his face.  

You wiggle your shoulders, as he delicately wipes you down. “What, you don’t wanna clean me up with your tongue? And why do you even use disinfectant – there’s no open wound.” You poke him in the shoulder with your toe. “And you didn’t even purr that time! I demand a refund!”

“Next time, okay?” 

You frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just let me–,” 

You sit up, the dried blood pinching your skin, and he pulls away. “Max, what is it?” 

He pulls away so much, he’s on his feet by the dresser before you can touch him, the back of his arm tearing at his mouth to wipe it clean. Max is a lot of things but cold when you need aftercare is not one of them. 

“It’s nothing.” The line of his shoulders is taught, tense. But he cracks his neck and takes the Gatorade from the dresser. He finally sits back down on the bed in front of you, offering the bottle to you. You take it, unease mounting, your fingers brush his, but this time he doesn’t retreat. Instead, gently, his fingertips ghost over your wrist, down the fine hairs on your arm, drop from your elbow and settle delicately on the blue material covering the crease of your hip. Where your blood had pooled, wet, and stained the blue to a deep magenta. 

“I ruined your pretty underwear,” he says softly, forlorn. 

You move closer to him, your knee touching his hip, but you refrain from seeking out the warmth of his hands. 

“Max, I can get new ones, I don’t care about that. Please, talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Did I push you too far?”

His fingers flex around the towel, now also appropriately ruined. He shakes his head, more firmly this time. He snags his shirt off the floor, over his head, then moves towards the bedroom door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m sticky. I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna come?”

The invitation, it’s something, an encouragement you genuinely feared he might not give. Maybe it’s not you he wants to part from. 

You didn’t enter into this for the emotional connection and neither did he. You have to remember that.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

He invited you. He still wants you around. 

Prev | Next | Series Masterlist

[divineerdrick]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon Upd8s for June 26, 2024 and July 6, 2024

The peak of my convention season is almost over, and I'm taking a break to liveblog some Homestuck. It doesn't help that we've had two upd8s since I last checked the site. I'm also not feeling well, and I like browsing Homestuck stuff when I'm not feeling well.

When last we left off, I predicted that Calliope is using the Plot Point to influence the Candy Timeline through their connection with Roxy and her/their Void powers. If I'm right, this is the worst thing to have anywhere near a Serket. So I'm really wondering what's going on. Perhaps they think Vriska's ability to influence the narrative can give it a boost?

We don't get a news post for either of these upd8s, so we're going to jump right in!

Trippy . . . Though this seems considerably less seizure inducing than Homestuck's prior stuff. Perhaps the HICU are working on that a bit.

Okay, so I might be way off! So the Plot Point itself is the singularity at the center of the machine. The machine itself just stabilizes it, perhaps preventing it from expanding Big Bang style or sucking anything into it. And the fact it has both Calliope and Roxy's colors means they probably just worked on it together. I'm gonna go stand in the corner and turn into a sheep now.

Oh boy. Vriska is not having any patience for this . . .

Calliope said they needed authenticity, and Vriska following someone else's plan wouldn't exactly do that. Vriska would actually get as much info as she could normally though. So she thinks she has all the information she needs, she doesn't believe she can get accurate info from anyone in the Candy Timeline, or she's being affected by the Plot Point too. Possibly a combination of the three.

Either way, no we get an [S] page! Maybe this will be a substantive one.

So Vriska just got spaghettified into the Plot Point, and that seems to have changed the machine. That music was really creepy too. I'm continuing to have a bad feeling about this . . .

Oops . . . Roxy is not happy about this.

"Grumpy Exposition Creature: Exposit." lol

Oh shit! They have attracted some attention I don't think they're ready for.

Whelp! Even Dead Calliope isn't able to do much beside reveal what's going on. We've got another [S] page too.

Well this is eerily familiar . . .

Wait! That's Vriska's hive! But it's just Vriska's hive, no sign of Equius's. This has some dream bubble vibes, but it's definitely not that.

More God Tier art!

Uh oh. Ominous call back is ominous. And the narration here is driving that home even further. But what do they mean by "hungrier?" What other forces can be called into play here. The Horrorterrors perhaps? Something new? Us being hungry for more?

Yeah, I was already pretty sure this was a bad idea. Calliope might be many things, but they're not a liar.

Davepeta jumpscare!

Um . . . that's a lot of sprites . . .

Yay! Fefetasprite is here too!

Apparently this is an infurvention.

Holy crap it's SBAHJification time! I'm not gonna spoil that. You can see this masterpiece for yourself.

Okay. So the sprites seem to want to set Vriska straight. Emphasis on "seem." So why is this a bad thing? Is this simply bad from Calliope's perspective and her goal of trying to stabilize everything and end Dirk's influence on the timelines and the narrative? Is this a trap? Is this a previously unseen force or a new angle on one we know about?

So I'd previously blogged about how powerful the Plot Point could be. It is well within the realm of possibility for Vriska to be forced through a redemption arc. And there are definitely people out there that are hungry for that. As a god, this could put Vriska on the path to ascend, which might give her even more control over the narrative than Dirk.

But even with all the bullshit that's been going on in the Candy Timeline, even with the potential power of the Plot Point, even with all of Homestuck's prior ridiculous shenanigans, this feels a bit too convenient. Too contrived. Vriska, her Hive, the sprites. It all strains any kind of credibility.

And while there are people who are hungry to see Vriska redeemed, there's another outcome that I think far more people are hungry for . . .

"welcome to hell"

[salowrites]

praise kink — kinkology 101 ★

૮꒰ྀི ୨ ៸៸៸ ୧ ྀི꒱ა who has the biggest praise kink in devildom??

ft. asmodeus, mammon, diavolo, simeon, beel.

contents. usage of the word whore! doggy style. submissive men! praise (obvi)

noties: i do have a bleach version out!

#1 asmodeus 

WHORE. major WHORE, but he’s an insecure whore. He needs to fulfill that validation. He needs to know he’s the greatest. 

you’re both delirious at this point. desire seems to cloud the whites of your eyes. you’ve been folded against him since you got back from the party. asmo didn’t seem to take too well to his brothers ogling you again.

#2 mammon 

the great mammon would never admit it. he often goads you into praising him. he’s a sly thing really.. 

he’s got you taking it from behind. his thrusts are rough and calculated and you can’t even hold yourself up anymore, as your cheeks are fully connected with the soft pillow.

mammon leans over you his wet lips beside your ear. “who’s gonna fuck you like me?” he teases.

there’s a certain, truth to his words. because who could? but there’s also an allusiveness to his words. A request is hidden behind a question. “Nobody only you,” you rasp. “Fuck me better than anyone,” you slur. That’s all he needs to keep fucking you and bringing you to the crest of your orgasm again and again.

#3 diavalo  

He’s a slut. Just one big slut and I’m convinced he knows what he’s doing and isn’t even the slightest bit ashamed. 

His fingers linger against your clothed pussy. He’s so close to you yet so far. You’re sitting at the dinner table. The brothers were out for the night and there was a bit of quietness for once. His fingers swirled around your cotton panties. Diavolo wasn’t making any move to make you come. 

“dia, “ you sigh falling into his massive chest. He hums against your ear. 

“yes.” 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper. Although there’s nothing and no one here you are still ever so quiet. “Of course hon. After you tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me you can’t live without me.”

#4 simeon  

He’s Delusional. Although he thought you said delicious. Simeon swore up and down a couple of words couldn’t make him finish. 

Until he’s bent over like a bitch in heat. He couldn’t wait until you guys left before his cock started to leak. He’s sighing, moaning, and groaning as your hands wrap around his stiff cock. 

His body jerks so gracefully as you slide up and down with your fingers, twisting every so often giving him such pleasure. “Simeon you’re doing so good. Taking it like a big boy.” you whisper sweetly. He can’t help what happens to his body his tenses up as a mess begins to form on your fingers. Shame is the first thing he feels form coming too quickly. 

You place a kiss on his back, “Its alright. We have all night.” 

#5 beelzebub

complete airhead.

he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling, he just knows he needs to have more of it.

you’re riding him for a change. He’s not the dominant in this situation. He agreed you could take lead tonight.

Even though he can’t wrap his mind around why you needed to do anything on your own. When he can do it for you.

Albeit he would fufill your request to the best of his abilities. his hands are tied and his mouth is gagged.

You straddle him slowly, sinking down on his cock slowly. A hand on his shoulder and furrowed brow. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you whimper. beel breath becomes ragged.

you remember just how delicious the stretch was when he was inside you. 

“forget how good you feel inside my pussy,” you say as you begin to ride him. Your pace is steady and smooth.

You roll all the way to the tip and slide back down. your pace only became aggressive as you have a nasty thought of beel fucking someone eles. It cause your eyes to open.

“This perfect cock is mine,” you grunt out as you grab his balls. 

“It’s mine to fuck, suck and ride. Do you understand?” 

Beel feels so hot all of a sudden understanding, the importance of experimenting.

sokonoi ─‌ like or reblog.

[gayuu-the-necromancer]

William Rex Chapter 1

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

From the back alleys dripping with rain, from the surface of the deep dark water from the steamy station.

I feel like someone or something is calling me....as if singing, with a graceful melody.

"Come here, Come here."

"Who killed you?"

Kate: "...!"

(Nightmare....?)

Outside the window was still the colour of the dark night. I seemed to have dozed off for just a few minutes.

(Yeah, that's right...I saw a murder scene and that's why I'm here in this castle....)

---FLASHBACK----

Victor: "Kate will live in this castle from now on and work with the members of the Crown."

Victor: "The Crown members can monitor her to make sure she doesn't divulge any secrets."

Victor: "In the meantime, I want Kate to write down how the members do their evil deeds like writing a fairy tale."

----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

(....I wish this was all a dream)

I lay down again on the soft pillow, but the vague anxiety and fear made me no longer sleepy.

Instead, my stomach rumbles.

(I can't believe I'm actually hungry under these circumstances....my body has a mind of its own.....)

At that moment----

Kate: "!?"

A subdued knock on my door had tension run through my entire body.

William: "Sorry to disturb you this late at night. Are you awake?"

(It's Master William...)

If tonight's assassination was due to his ability, as Master William said.

While Master William ordered that man to cut his neck with a knife....

He must have been playing the piano gracefully.

(No matter how much of it was the order of her Majesty the Queen, how could he play the piano while killing someone....)

(Maybe he's a terrifying psychopath)

At the very least, he is definitely 'the first person to watch out for' among the Crown members.

(Keep knocking, I won't open the door!)

I pretended to sleep like this, but my stomach rumbles again.

Even. Louder. Than. Before.

(What timing....)

William: ".....Unless you're hungry and looking for fellowship, how about a little something to eat?"

William: "You have the right to be vigilant, but we don't want anyone to starve to death in this castle."

(Mm.....)

It was a sweet voice, so gentle that can soothe a child.

As if sucked in, I reached for the doorknob.

(He is a gentleman and said he wouldn't use his abilities rashly...)

(And I can't stay cooped up in my room...forever)

I connect a few reasons and open the door abruptly.

I see Master William standing outside, smiling at me as if he knew I would open the door.

William: "Come, my lady."

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William: "After such a shocking event, it's been this late at night. Don't force yourself. Eat as much as you like."

Master William pulls out a chair for me and I sit down as he urges me to do so.

He sat down in a chair a short distance away from the table.

(Um?)

The meal looked like it was prepared for only one person no matter how you look at it. On the other hand, Master William was holding a glass of wine.

Kate: "Um...What about you....?"

William: "Hm? I actually had a light snack before the mission."

William: "Don't mind me, go ahead and enjoy."

(I wonder if he prepared it just for me and went out of his way to call me....)

Gratitude wells up and I feel relaxed in front of the warm and delicious meal.

(No, I have to be vigilant)

Pulling myself back to reason, I turned to the food. Immediately I noticed something and froze.

William: "Is there anything not to your liking?"

Kate: "No, it's just...I don't know...how to...how to eat.."

William: "......"

In the first place, I know nothing about the etiquette of dining in such a castle, on top of that in front of a nobleman.

William: "You can eat however you like. The only rule here is that people must be comfortable doing things in their own way."

(Really....)

-----Options-----

(Then I can be as rude as possible)

(If I'm rude)

(I'm hungry, so let's not think about anything)

----------

(What if I act rude unintentionally...)

William: "Don't worry. I won't blame you for being rude."

William: "....You're so tolerant of outlaws, but you're so hard on yourself."

Kate: "Outlaws....?"

William: "Victor told me that you defended a thief, who got away with his crime and had to pay for the stolen goods."

(Ah....)

----FLASHBACK-----

Man: "She stole something very expensive from me! Of course, you're going to pay me for that, right?"

Kate: "Yes, I'll pay you!"

----FLASHBACK ENDS----

(He was there at the time...!)

Kate: "T-That was actually, on the spur of the moment I...."

Feeling embarrassed, I averted my gaze.

(After all, it was a stopgap measure, and it didn't change anything in that kid's circumstances)

I just stepped in without thinking about the aftermath and felt helpless.

As if to shake off my pettiness, I boldly reached for a muffin.

William: "Um...Thank you for the food!"

William: "Mmhm. Go on."

Hesitantly, I take a bite out while still holding it in my hand.

This midnight snack is a little guilty, yet enthrallingly delicious.

(I shouldn't let my guard down....but the smell of this butter, sugar, and the scent of this tea....)

My anxiety and fear slowly melt away.

I glanced around to see that Master William was playing with an envelope in his hand while sipping wine from time to time.

Even with his downcast eyelashes and silver hair hiding his striking red eyes, his beauty is still alluring that I can't help but admire.

One can see the blood-red fingernails tracing the wax sealing imprinted with a golden butterfly.

The hand that was extended to me, in that mansion, came back to my mind.

----FLASHBACK-----

William: "I invite you to dinner tonight. Young lady, what is your name?"

Kate: "Kate...It's Kate."

In a shaky voice, I managed to answer.

But the moment I saw the blood-red fingertips, I was crucified to the spot.

Kate: "Um...Mm...? I....I'm sorry....."

I can't take his hand. On contrary, I can't even move.

My body was rejecting a future....that might kill reality.

Kate: "I'll stand...I'll stand now..."

William: "....."

Master William crouched down with a smile on his face.

William: "Pardon me."

He gently picked me up in his arms.

Kate: "!?"

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

When he lightly picked me up in his arms, Master William politely apologized.

William: "Forgive me for being selfish. I'll apologize for this rudeness later."

----FLASHBACK ENDS----

(....Master William said, he would apologize to me later)

(Which means, perhaps, he wanted to keep me alive from the very beginning....?)

(Why....)

Madness and gentleness conflicting impressions are tangled and confusing.

(I don't know who this person is)

I'm sure the reason I'm so confused is that I still....don't know anything about him!

(Actually, it's better if I didn't know)

(I don't 'feel' like I should know)

Yet....

Kate: "Um...Who was that man.....you killed?"

William: ".....Hm?"

The question slipped out of my mouth.

William: "Oh that....just a pest that infests England, violating our freedom and dignity, exploiting our sweet nectar."

Kate: "The piano....who was playing that? Did you make him commit suicide....instead of .....just killing him?"

(Why am I asking this.....)

I ask questions without knowing whether they are to fill in the blanks of my anxiety or not.

William: "Once I have decided to kill someone as 'evil', I kill them as brutally as possible because that's my principle."

William: "Otherwise, there's no point in me carrying out my evil."

Kate: "Why does it have to be cruel to make sense....?"

William: "......"

Master William looked at me as I continued to ask in confusion.

He smiled a cruel smile, in a very amusing way.

William: "The thing most feared by those who want wealth and power and who trample on the freedom of others with impunity...."

William: "What is it?"

Kate: "Huh....."

My question is answered with a question and I couldn't help but mumble.

When my mind could not catch up with the riddle-like words, Master William rested his elbow on the armrest and smiled at me gently.

William: "If everything could be explained in words and understood, wouldn't life be empty?"

William: "If you're interested in me, you can see it with your eyes...your ears, and your skin."

William: "Isn't it better to have a lot of fun to unravel?"

William: "Oh yeah.."

As if suddenly remembering, Master William pulled something out of his pocket.

(A knife?)

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

(A knife?)

An ornate golden knife glints bewitchingly in the moonlight in his hand.

Fear shook my whole body as I recalled the tragedy that had occurred just a few moments earlier.

Kate: "Ah.....I....."

(I don't know what I did to offend you....?)

William: "I'm not going to suddenly thrust this knife to your neck."

William: "....I have as much or even more power than this knife."

William: "As I told you, it's a special power that can kill you in the blink of an eye."

Kate: "......Mm. Yes...."

William: "The same goes for the rest of us. And yet, you, who have to live with us, have nothing."

William: "It's not right that you're the only one whose life is being unfairly threatened. Right?"

Kate: "Is it....yes...?"

I couldn't believe my ears when I heard these unexpected words.

William: "Yes. I want to talk to you as much as possible as equals, poor robin."

William: "So while you write down my sins as the Fairy tale master...."

William: "If you want to judge me for my sins, you can stab me with this knife."

William: "I accept your absolution with open arms."

William: "Will you take it?"

My heart thudded with alarm at the obviously dangerous invitation.

(What in the world are you talking about....?)

(You are asking me....to stab a person with this....?)

(No...I can't do that)

I should not mingle in a world that points knives at people, no matter who they are.

I know, but somehow my fingertips are drawn to the golden knife.

William: "Here you go."

Kate: "Ah...."

My fingers brushed his fingertips, just for a moment, as I picked the cold metal from his hands.

I can't look away even though I know I should.

My body moves on its own and reason cannot catch up with it.

He has some kind of strange magnetic force.

The cold knife was somehow in my palm, reflecting the moonlight dully.

Kate: ".....D-Did you use your ability just now?"

When I asked him, staring at the knife in amazement, Master William smiled gently.

William: "No? My ability is not activated unless I 'look you in the face' and 'command you to do so."

William: "The words 'Will you take it' was not a command, but a suggestion."

(Then I did it of my own free will....?)

Suddenly, I felt horrible.

(I shouldn't be exchanging glances and listening to him....like this)

(I might go crazy....)

Kate: "Anyways, I'm done. Please excuse me....!"

I hurriedly got up from my seat and left the place as if to escape.

I have to go back to my normal life without having to use this knife for the next month. For that purpose----

William: "....Goodnight, sweet little robin. See you tomorrow."

I refused to take the advantage of his temptation.

.........

William: "Did you come up with any better moves?"

When William steps into his room, Victor, who was staring at the chessboard, looks up.

Victor: "No, not at all."

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William: "The mansion we went to tonight---it was a hit."

William held out the envelope he had been inspecting in the dining room to Victor.

The butterfly mark engraved on the wax sealing glimmers in the candlelight.

William: "If this is proof that the Golden Butterfly is back, Vic, I'm willing to let you take the lead on this one."

Victor: "Yeah....no problem."

Victor: "We've done our homework on this one. Kate is totally clean."

Victor: "She has nothing to do with the police, the Capitol or even the 'butterfly."

Victor: "She was just an unlucky girl to be there."

William: "Unlucky huh? No way. She came there for a reason."

Victor: "Is that your insightful inference?"

William: "Mmhm."

Victor: "Then there is no doubt...Maybe we might need a birdcage,"

William: "No thanks. I like the sounds of birds singing and flying around happily...."

William: "....Unfortunately, I don't have a hobby to keep them locked up."

........

Victor: "Nice to see you today, Miss Kate!"

Kate: "....Yes. Thank you for having me."

The next morning, Victor called me. I straightened my back, holding a notebook I had used as a postman.

(At the end of the night, I was able to sort out my feelings a little bit)

(About last night....now that I think about it, I received a self-defense weapon, that's all)

(My body felt like it was moving on its own...I'm sure it was just fear that made me feel that way)

(I have to do my duty as a 'Fairy tale master' in order to gain their trust)

Victor: "I'm going to explain the details about the mission of 'Fairy tale master' to you, so listen carefully."

Kate: "I'm all ears!"

(Maybe there is a room in this castle that I'm not allowed to go in, or I can't meet outsiders)

(As someone who will be monitored, I'm sure there are plenty of rules....)

Victor: "Basically, you can do whatever you like."

Kate: "Huh?"

Victor: "Hm? What's wrong?"

Kate: "Wait no....are you actually serious?"

Victor: "Yes, I am. Oh, but you must always be accompanied by someone from the Crown when you leave the castle."

Victor: "The report to her Majesty is basically a report of your observation."

Kate: "Okay, so is there any specific format I should be following?"

Victor: "As long as you write down exactly how it looks like in your eyes, then that's all you need to know."

(That's all...?)

(But I'm so free, I don't know what to write about)

Victor: "....Once you start spending time with them, I'm sure you will have something to write about."

Victor smiled at me as if to reassure me of my confusion.

Victor: "But the Crown members are also basically acting alone."

Victor: "Some of them work front and some of them work behind the scenes."

Victor: "It's difficult to observe everyone, so let's choose people to work with!"

(To work together with some one....)

What happened last night, runs through my head like flashes, once again.

(If I have to work with that person....24/7)

(I wonder what's going to happen?)

Every time I think of those red eyes, the inside of my chest trembles violently.

It's as if something is raging inside my body.

(Maybe it would be better to have someone other than Master William to work with)

Kate: "Um...."

Before I opened my mouth, Victor clapped his hands with a plop.

Victor: "I think William would be a good choice. He's just about to start his assignment, and he would be a great choice for your starting report."

(EH?!)

Victor: "The No. 1 of the Crown, the evilest king ever remembered by her Majesty the Queen."

Kate: "B-But..."

I hear the sound of footsteps and then...

Victor: "Oh what perfect timing. He's already here."

William: "....Hm?"

Do not be tempted by him.

Because I have a feeling I won't be able to go back.

Chapter 2

[rottenyeen]

God it fucking sucks. I wish I wasn’t transgender, because it’s the reason I likely won’t have a family.

I have known I am transman since I was a child and first learned it was even a thing. Around 7 or 8 years old, to be honest. And once I got into middle school, I came out to my friend group. They were luckily very supportive, used my pronouns and chosen name which at the time was Scotty because I wanted a “S” name so I wouldn’t have to change my initials. I wasn’t very connected to the name, but it made do.

I didn’t pass at all in middle school, I wasn’t allowed to cut my hair shorter than my shoulders so I always have that stereotypical side part, long hair cut. I told my biological mother, asking her not to tell a soul and she promised- only for that very night she decided to call my dad, grandparents, and her friends to spread the news. She outed me instantly to everyone and everything around me.

I was out for 5 years, from 7th grade to my junior year of highschool. It was hell. My siblings consistently made fun of me, told me I should kill myself over it, that I was cringe and stupid and fucked up in the head for thinking I was something I am not. My dad made transphobic comments and jokes when I was not around but when I was present he’d be calm and say he’d need time but he loves me. My biological mother said she supported me, but every weekend I’d see her she’d ask me “so are you still trans? Oh okay.” My stepmother would scream at me, tell me I didn’t deserve dinner, throw things at me, cry and send me to bed sobbing because I used my brothers shampoo to wash my hair instead of my sisters. My stepmother would say I smelled like a boy, which was wrong because I had a vagina and not a penis so she’d then force me to reshower and stand there as I washed and used a different soap. It was fucking hell.

My senior year of highschool, I thought it was too much. So I “detransitioned” which sucked, because at this point of time I was told I passed very well and I was almost always gendered properly unless I spoke. But I grew out my hair and said fuck it because the agony of having no support system ruined me. So my senior year I decided to change myself completely.

I went back to magically being cis, to being girly, to loving and obsessing over pink- doing anything in my power to seem as if I was the most feminine being in the world and it worked so flawlessly. Suddenly my family wanted to speak to me again. And the funniest part, is that when I climbed back into my closet, into my safe haven and hiding spot- I heard some interesting things.

My family was suddenly so vocal about transgender people, and in a derogatory light. My stepmother especially, would always bring up my “transness” as a phase that she was glad was over. This hit me like a fucking truck- considering in the 5 years I was out I thought she was genuinely warming up and learning/healing. Boy was I wrong.

So senior year. And this last year, my technically first year of college, or what would have been. I have just decided to make myself void of everything- not caring. Any pronouns, any gender, any sexuality- anything. Anything but cis.

It’s so fucking painful. I attempted suicide a few months ago and overdosed- which landed me in the hospital. And these past months I’ve had to live with my parents, which is SO delightful. (Heavy sarcasm.) I have lost the ability to care how others perceive me. My mental health has reached a point where I don’t care about other people’s feelings about me or in general for most cases.

So I’m trying to come out again. I’m a transman, always have been. I’ve been trying to force myself to be a fucking girly girl for so long- letting it consume my personality because I know I didn’t do so, I wouldn’t have people to come to my wedding. I wouldn’t have grandparents for if I adopted a child. I wouldn’t have anyone to lean on.

I’m so fucking scared, more than half my family wants nothing to do with me just because I’m lgbt. And that’s just because I’m out about my sexuality, that I’ll date anyone regardless of gender. But my gender? Oh I’m royally fucked.

I just wish I could be myself. I wish I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else. And you may be wondering, “Why didn’t you tell your online friends?”

Because I have before, multiple times.

My parents would always find out, I’m not even supposed to be on twitter or tumblr or discord- anything at all. But I have been for years. I was just terrified of them finding anything if they even looked through my phone, or saw a subtle notification from a friend calling me anything. I know they’d take everything from me.

Anyway. This ramble is long enough. To sum it up, I have reached a place of full apathy, which ironically has made me comfortable to come out again. Because I don’t care what my family thinks. It’s scary, but at the same time I couldn’t care about their opinion if they do find out. I’ve been through it before, and I’m an adult now so what’s really the worst that could happen? I’m just tired.

[syntaxaero]

Hey, I know what it's like to go through that. I feel like I just want to connect with someone, anyone, sometimes. I want to have this sense that I'm not alone out here in this world. But I feel so utterly incapable of that, like my words aren't reaching them or something. Like I'm the weird one for wanting to be closer.

But at least you're able to post about it on your blog, I hide behind anon asks. It's a sign that you're able to open up more than I. I hope you find the people you feel like you can be your true self with and be without any judgment.

And I hope whatever else you've been dealing with passes as well, I wish nothing but the best for you.

honestly it's just desperation I've never really been good at the whole. dealing with constantly feeling isolated thing.

I do appreciate, though not necessarily like, when people like dm/try to chat with me but my ability to socialize that way is so limited and im not really all that creative about getting around that blockade.

I love to chat in groups! but some groups are too big so it lacks that personal feel, and some groups i just don't quite vibrate 1:1 with even though i may find everyone there to be pleasant company.

bwaaaaahh it feels like im trying to chase something that isn't there !! and it fucking SUCKS to change the way I do anything just to fit in with something it eventually just backfires .

[novelistash]

Slateport's Oceanic Museum is primarily a place for geology and chemistry students. The nearby Museum of Marine Pokemonology is far larger and more busy, though the two are connected as part of a four building center dedicated to learning about the ocean collectively called the Four Seas Museum. It's inside the Oceanic Museum that I meet Esther Flowne. She's on the bottom floor staring at a dome that shows the haunting division of ocean water and black brine.

Esther has extremely soft brown hair cut too short to ever fall in front of her eyes. Those green eyes of hers are both haunted and distracted. I get close enough that I'm sure she can sense me, but she doesn't once look away from the black sludge at the bottom of the tank. Some drama is playing out in her mind and I watch as her expression goes from worried to angry, like the pulse of the sea. My limited empathy is overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, triggering memories of shouting matches and lost battles.

“Ms. Flowne?” I ask to push back the oppressive aura.

She looks away from the tank and my mind is given a reprieve. “Yes? Oh, hello. You must be ASH.” Esther keeps her hands to herself and bows.

I bow in return. “I am.”

Strangely, I'm at a loss for words. My experience with psychics has been complicated. Generally they come in three variations: the grandiose charlatans, the esoteric mystics, and those that never wanted the abilities that made them different. I have never met a reticent psychic with such overwhelming power. As the silence between us stretches on, I feel my inhibitions about the future flare to the forefront of my mind. I don't know what I'm hoping to accomplish with this study of a Beldum, but it scares me. It scares me enough to make my knees shiver.

“Can you stop reading me?” I ask with a grunt.

Her eyes snap open, returning to that half cordial approximation of normal she's practiced at wearing. “Sorry. I didn't mean to. What did you want to know about my Beldum?”

It feels strange talking about this in such a public place, but there aren't a lot of people nearby. We're surrounded by rocks taken from the seabed and once she starts to wander about my heart doesn't feel the pressure of her drilling eyes.

“I was asking about some topological theories I was developing and the scientists at Fenominal Labs asked me to help with their research. Well, specifically, I wanted to look into their research and they talked me into raising a Beldum.”

“I don't remember the people there very well. I was suffering from severe depression at the time. Hoshino helped me start over. She was my star.”

Beldums don't actually have gender, but this psychic scares me too much to correct her. “Do you remember how you trained her? That information could be valuable.”

She looks to me with confusion and I feel that soul sucking assault on my conscious thoughts again. My mind careens from the moment in the lab to the weeks beforehand scrawling at loose scraps of paper while I laid on the floor, and the pathetic months of lethargy that proceeded that. My hand slaps a railing and my knees threaten to give out. Blinking, she looks back to the rocks and apologizes under her breath. “Sorry. I'm not used to people feeling my exploration. You're a psychic?”

“Not a great one,” I grunt as I recover from another assault. “Though I get the feeling that I couldn't stop you even if I tried. You swear you're not doing this on purpose?”

She shakes her head. “No. I meant to check your mind then. I've hand too many people lie and manipulate me in the past. I can't trust anyone anymore. Not like before. Those visions I saw of you running through calculations, is that what the value is?”

“I don't know,” I admit. I have to walk fast to catch up to the shorter woman, who is climbing the stairs with haste. “Your training session with Beldum showed remarkable variation and growth when compared to every other trainer. Did you use your powers to bolster Hoshino's progress? Did you do anything to stimulate her body?”

She is standing at the top of the stairs, turned about to look right at me, stopping me with the threat of another delving into my mind. At this height, with this many steps behind me, a psychic assault could be fatal. She means to threaten me and the cold look in her eyes doesn't do anything to alleviate her own sorrow. “You will answer my questions directly. I need to know what value this information has.”

I swallow. “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. I have a theory about Pokémon, that their mass is far greater than the bounds of the physical world. There's too many unexplained phenomenon connected to Pokémon that can't ordinarily be explained with physics. I think there are interactions happening beyond the four observable dimensions. Your training methods could shine light on where Pokémon growth and evolution really comes from.”

“But why is this important to you?”

Lowering my eyes, it hurts to admit my petty motivation. “I want to feel important. I want my life to have meaning.”

At last, she steps back, giving me room to climb up the stairs and stand on a surface that won't hurt me should I collapse. “Your research won't give you that. No pokemon, no achievement, no act of love will give you the feeling of a life worth living. That is something that you have to find within yourself.”

“My research could still help people. It could change how we see Pokémon.”

“You're not listening to me.”

I lower my eyes and follow her as she walks off to examine containers full of water. “Maybe not.”

“I didn't do anything special when I trained Hoshino. My coordinator events were all recorded, they can be found in the archives at Lilyport. My scores were nothing impressive. My arrangements were uninspired. I was an average cool coordinator with a mediocre showing.”

“Cool?” I ask to clarify. “Weren't you a tough trainer?”

“Hmm?” She searches her memories and a flood of morose vibrations pours out of her and into my chest. Little tremors of delight, break of the quagmire and she nods. “Yes, that's right. I was a tough trainer at first. Hoshino couldn't learn anything but tough moves and so I thought I needed to coordinate with that expectation. Once I worked with Hoshino's nature we both had a better time. You feel emotions, don't you?”

I pull myself back to my feet by the railing I'm clinging to. “Yeah. It, um, usually isn't this strong. You're obviously a very powerful psychic. Why don't you compete?”

“I did. Once.”

“What happened?”

This time no emotions escape her. She is in complete control. Based on the hard look in those haunted eyes, I think it's because she's responding without remembering. “I met people I thought were worth my love and people who I thought deserved my hate and I was wrong about most of it. Then everything we fought for all got swept away.”

“What?”

Esther shakes her head. “I don't want to talk about that. Did you have any more questions?”

“Well, yes.” I wander over to a nearby bench and get my laptop out of my satchel. “There are specific moments of intense growth that I wanted to ask you about. Would you mind going over your history of Hoshino with me?”

“Yes, I'd mind terribly. What we shared, it was ours to experience. I didn't participate in Fenominal Lab's study because I cared about their research, I did it because I wanted to raise a pokemon that reminded me of better times. I won't tarnish those memories by investigating my memories with scientific precision. As I said, my competitions are all in the archives. I won't say anything else about Hoshino.”

The brief sensations of sorrow that pierce through her irritation come as the spike of a poisonous memory. Reliving Hoshino's death might not only be difficult for her, but it could push the limits of my empathy to dangerous ends. I'm almost crying as it is.

“Why haven't you started training?” Esther asks. “You have the egg. You have enough support pokemon to protect them and nurture them through the worst of your training, so why haven't you started training your Beldum?”

“I...” Blinking away the tears that still threaten to unmake me, I sit up straight. “I want to get everything right this time.”

“You are surrounded by fear. You might think that you are controlling it, or that it doesn't affect you, but it controls you. It's actually beautiful, past the tragedy. You must be very appealing to psychics and yet you live alone.”

That shocks me so deep that I can't even speak. It's difficult enough to formulate a response to such a cutting damnation combined with what I can only interpret as a compliment. So my mind comes around to facts about her and I redirect to give my overwrought heart relief. “I, uh, I heard that you married a trainer you met while coordinating. Are you still with him?”

She smiles. “I am. Goodbye, ASH. Don't try to contact me again.”

I'm left to watch her leave the second floor of the Oceanic Museum, the laptop black and impotent on my lap. The feelings of devastation and loss in my heart are not my own. I know they are hers, bitter echoes of a tragedy I did not experience but my mind can't help but remember the fire that destroyed several containment boxes within the warehouse of Bill's PC. My first set of Pokémon were all gone, dead from an event beyond my control. It is a memory I work hard to repress, but I can't ignore it any longer. The echoes of my loss, remind me of the sharp smiles of my childhood and the lies that cut into me.

*

I spent a hundred pen to have a psychic break me down without even trying and I celebrated by crying in her aftermath. Honestly, it probably wasn't the worst experience I've had at a museum, but it is embarrassing. I don't like to know how weak I am, but it is something that I have tacitly accepted. I am controlled by fear and so that is the thing I must overcome. I've never learned true courage. I have never mastered that trembling, gnawing, burning, crunching, gripping feeling in my chest. It is a thing I live with, a monster in my heart that responds to no commands and has no limit to the number of attacks it can learn.

There's a public walkway a short distance away. I'm not by a pier exactly, but something like a shopping district overlooking the docs. Wingulls are harassing every fisher, food court vendor, and trash bin, but they are a familiar nuisance. I sit down cross legged facing a bench, a railing, the ocean, and the burn of the sun. I place the white premier ball down on the ground and calm my breath. Sucking in the air, I hold it above my diaphragm and slowly move my breath up my chest. I feel the energy rising, moving up from my chest until it's tingling my shoulders and buzzing in my throat. The sensation doesn't last there, it fades quick, spreading to the neurons of my graymatter, stilling my physical irritations through a body-wide numbing sensation.

I hold out my hand and focus my energy out in a radial splash. In comes the ripples, pinch by my mind's imaging. Down goes my hand, low enough to be level with the ball. Then I think not of my energy, but of the metal casing that holds the shaped apricorn surrounded by mechanisms. Electromagnetic waves push out, sending the ball rolling until it hits the base of the railing, stopping it before the ball returns to the life giving ocean. Magnetism works on the ferrous elements, drawing the body of the servos back to me. The white ball rolls, returning with haste, picking up speed until it taps the edge of my fingers. The ball stops. I take a breath, and send it out again. If that was one step, then this ball will need thousands more before the egg inside hatches.

For reasons I don't understand, I smile. Maybe I'm just looking forward to meeting a new Pokémon.

@trainerspiral

[galaxyseclipse]

OKAY

so I went through the Side Order trailer a gazillion times, so it's disorganized thoughts/theories/opinions time!

we're just gonna put a cut here in case folks don't want to read a quite long post lol

----------

okay, so I think the whole thing of this campaign is that it's not real. nothing that happens is actually happening to Eight, Pearl, and Dedf1sh. I mean obviously it's happening to them, but it has no affect on the real Inkopolis Square

so, I think it's either (1) a simulation/virtual "what-if?" scenario(probably created by Marina) that got corrupted or (2) that "world of order beyond comprehension" Marina mentioned that probably also got corrupted

either way it's gonna be weird, and is probably connected to computers somehow

my main reasoning for that is that every time we(as in the player) enter an area it literally loads us into the area(bringing in essentially an LoD model, then becoming the player/weapons), which most likely wouldn't happen if we weren't in some sort of virtual world

as well as this trippy glowy matrix-lookin' room thing

also the fact that Pearl is literally a drone clearly designed to look like her, and it doesn't appear as if we see her normally at all in the campaign. so my guess is that the drone is Pearl's "avatar" in this virtual world. this is further proven by her description on the Japanese website

this is a janky translation, but still, interesting wording

but why a drone? and why does it look like her? my only guess is that Marina made that avatar to look like Pearl, so she could be safe in this weird environment? I have no idea otherwise

why do Eight and Ded look normal then? why is Ded here in the first place? I have no idea, other than Ded saying they and Marina "go way back" and Eight maybe choosing to have an avatar that looks like themselves?

obviously a lot of that part of the theory relies on this world being something that Marina created and/or has/had some level of control over. I saw a theory somewhere(unfortunately I don't remember exactly) that was "maybe Marina's being controlled by whatever is all that black stuff and what's controlling the robot fish." which like, that'd be pretty dope ngl, and it'd tie into the "Marina made/discovered this place and it got out of her control" theory. and we've seen Marina precisely one (1) time, and it was in concept art that kinda made her look all glitchy and stuff

so like, I dunno guys, I think 'rina might be in danger...

sidenote: I don't really like the "Marina's the antagonist/villain" theory. it just doesn't feel in character for her to do something like that on her own will. I'm down for puppet Marina, but I just don't think she'd cause this herself

----------

something that I've seen bounced around a lot is "you can play as either an Inkling or an Octoling!" using this as proof

my honest opinion? this is a reused text string for the Run Speed Up ability. I don't think we're playing as anyone other than Eight, who is canonically an Octoling

which sucks because I'd be down to play as Agent 4, but whatever, guess they don't get adventures anymore >:(

----------

we're gonna go back to Dedf1sh(or, Acht, I guess) for a second:

this line is weird

sucked into what? the simulation? how? why? did Eight and Pearl get "sucked in" too? or is she referring to the metro?

and how does she know so much about the tower? like the color chips and whatnot? have they been here a while?

SO MANY QUESTIONS AND SO FEW ANSWERS!!

----------

also, the color chip they hold out in that cutscene appears to say "AGNT" on it

it could also say "ACHT", but I don't see why

what does this mean? does it mean anything? who knows!?

wait I got another picture of it in Eight's hand:

it kinda looks like it says "AGNT 7" on it? I dunno maybe I'm just reading things I wanna see lol

it does more strongly resemble the Latin alphabet than the other scripts in this series though, so it's definitely worth pointing out imo

----------

gameplay opinions: looks fun!

folks are saying it looks like a rougelike, and even after looking it up multiple times I still have no idea what the fuck that means

skill tree thingy with the chips and stuff looks cool, hopefully it's implemented well, or at least not in a way that makes it more inconvenient to use it than go without

a bit of a bummer that it doesn't look like you can attack while flying around with Pearl though lmao. but I do like how she looks like she can use bombs(folks have pointed out a hyperbomb in one shot too :3c), and even (maybe, the shot's kinda weird) a singular killer wail speaker

also the design of the drone is fuckin' adorable

like lookit this thing

----------

aesthetic-wise, not bad, I like the muted, pale tone of everything

...except for Acht for some reason?

like, I love Dedf1sh, and am very excited for their inclusion, but also:

octo kinda sticks out like a sore thumb

maybe that's the point, maybe that's why she's helping us, to restore the colors to this simulation or whatever it is, hence the color chips and the soundboard looking thing....

hey wait a second am I onto something?

whatever, anyway, I like how it looks, and the small portions of soundtrack we've gotten so far sound great

----------

also, something pointed out in the comments on the trailer and I thought was morbidly interesting:

those appear to be meat grinders.....

uh, yeah

not sure what kind of substance is coming out of them, but uh, yeah those strongly resemble meat grinders

Eight's gonna die because they were unable to use any small kitchen appliance and starved lmfao

----------

alright, that's all I've got for now I think lol

I wouldn't be surprised if we got one more trailer in like January or something with the release date maybe a Splatoon direct? probably not

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

[Games in 2023: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective]

I was pleasantly surprised when the Switch port of Ghost Trick was announced: under-appreciated DS games are kinda my thing, this game’s stylized look conveyed a real sense of personality, and I’ve only ever heard good things from people who have played it.  “Why have I never played this before??” I asked myself, wracking my brain for the answer.  Then I played the demo and remembered “Oh yeah, I suck at puzzle games.”  But despite that, I still really wanted to see where things went, and boy am I glad I did!

Spoiler-free tl;dr: Ghost Trick is a wonderfully engrossing story about whacky characters uncovering insane plot twists that all build towards a satisfying and heartfelt conclusion.  I would recommend going in as blind as possible, but even without shock, the game is easily clever and fun enough to be a fantastic experience.

(Also content warning for animal death; the game is all about undoing deaths so it’s not permanent, but it can still be distressing to see it happen.)

The premise of Ghost Trick is simple yet creative: you play as a newly-dead ghost who has completely lost his memory, and must use your ability to possess and manipulate objects to solve this mystery and save the lives of the many characters you meet along the way.  The full narrative is anything but simple by the end, but I felt it was a steady, easy-to-follow escalation—though I have been told I have a high tolerance for plots involving time travel, so a grain of salt might be in order.  In my opinion it’s not especially hard to keep track of the game’s time shenanigans since you only ever go back 4 minutes before a person’s death to influence the situation in a way to avert their fate…until the very end, where you do learn a lot in a short time, and I could see a player struggling with that.

The style of the game really is impeccable.  Characters have very unique designs with bright colors and expressive actions, making it hard to mix anyone up despite how many people you meet over the course of the game.  Everybody makes a strong impression, and it’s easy to care about them and want to save their lives and find out how they tie back to the overall plot.  The connections between various characters are a bit tighter than you might expect going in, and it’s so much fun to steadily piece things together, each answer leading to only more questions.  There’s a point about halfway from which plot twists start to come one after the other, but instead of piling up, they come together, all building towards the same goal in a masterful manner.  It’s a very hard game to put down.

So, those puzzles!  I have to admit I was hesitant after struggling for the better part of an hour on one in chapter 2, but in the end I was able to solve all of them without looking up any answers!  It came real close a few times, and there was definitely an occasion or two where I stumbled into the right answer without realizing it, but hey, it counts.  The hints provided do a good job of leading you to the solution without just stating it, and can easily be ignored by players who don’t want their process interfered with.  I feel like I started to do a lot better once I started expecting I wouldn’t get everything right first try—don’t be afraid to do some trial and error.  The mechanics are sound: an item will clearly tell you how you can manipulate it if you can, and what items can be possessed are all easily identifiable whenever you enter the ghost world.  The trick (heh) most often is in getting the timing right, as you have a very limited range to “jump” between objects and can miss your chance completely if you don’t act fast while objects are in motion.  You’re explicitly taught this very early on, of course—the tutorial is very nicely structured, giving you all the information you need while a puzzle is unfolding around you with all the moving parts and tension you can expect all throughout the game.  The prison escape sequence stands out as a one-off with unique mechanics; it can be frustrating, as escort missions tend to be, but if you take it one step at a time it’s not too bad.  The only major addition to the basic structure is towards the end of the game where you gain a second ghost who can reach much farther, but in lieu of manipulating objects, he instead swaps the position of objects with the same shape.  It may only affect a handful of puzzles, but I think there’s a benefit to giving the player time to fully master the core mechanics before adding this new layer to things, and the possibilities it opens are well-utilized when they do come into play.  What tripped me up most often was needing to move each ghost to different objects out of each other’s way, since they can’t inhabit the same object; a minor annoyance, and quite possibly a skill issue on my part.

That’s essentially all there is to say on a mechanical level, so let’s talk more about the narrative.  The tone is largely playful but not afraid to be serious when it needs to be—you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll be aghast in horror, etc.  Again, the plot is continually escalating and building more and more tension, quickly becoming too fascinating to put down, and the fact that it manages to stick the landing is no small feat.  It seems to me the moral of the story is selflessness: every character is shown to be in the wrong when only serving their own interest, yet when they do something with others in mind, the narrative consistently rewards them.  Sissel says his only real goal is finding his own memory, but what makes him the hero of this story is his willingness to use his abilities to solve others’ problems.  Cabanela is painted in a villainous light when it seems he cares only about his career ambitions, but when we find out this was a means to the end of helping Jowd, he’s presented as unequivocally a good guy.  Jowd may say he’s so eager to take the fall for Kamila’s sake, but when Sissel calls his methods out as ultimately selfish, he changes course and takes on an active role in resolving the night’s many mysteries.  Yomiel obviously embodies the selfishness the story is speaking against, but in the end, he makes the choice to do something selfless, and the narrative rewards him with a second chance. (More than that, the game wouldn’t have happened at all had he not brought Sissel with him to the junkyard; while perhaps not entirely selfless, I think it’s important to note that Yomiel’s path to a better future began with his desire to not leave his only friend all alone.)  It’s really cool to see this theme reflected in so many different ways across the cast!  And of course, the one who embodies the virtue of selflessness above all else is the top Pomeranian himself, Missile!  The very first time we meet him, he basically ignores the fact that he’s dead and instead prioritizes saving Kamila.  After he develops his powers, he makes the decision to remain dead so that he can use those powers to help Kamila and Lynne.  And at the very end we learn that he went back in time 10 years, and while waiting faithfully that entire time, he devised a brilliant and complex strategy to ensure Sissel’s cooperation in saving his family once and for all.  “Because that’s what doggies do!”  This whole wild ride that ends up saving so many lives was all possible purely due to the awesome, selfless love of a dog.  That’s beautiful.

It’s hard to think of any major criticism.  Ghost Trick is just really, really good.  It may be a few years overdue, but I’m really glad I finally got to experience this game!

[wowifinallywatched]

Wow I Finally Watched Madame Web

*Spoiler Free* *Please keep in mind this is my personal thoughts and feelings, Just wanting to share love for stories, I am always open to discussions / being proven wrong / etc - It's what the internet is all about, just don't be an asshole about it :)*

This movie is a great start to a story that will flourish into many stories, It is the first step into a large staircase of a future filled with empowering characters that this generation and the future generations can look up to.

This movie has included representation of different cultures, roles, Heartbreaking issues we still face to this day and showcasing realities for a lot of teens instead of portraying the 'perfect home life' and the wish for an escape, to get away from that reality.

I'm also quite a softy for the 'Emotionally unavailable main character persists they don't have room in their heart for more but suddenly they have to look after these children and now they would give their life for them and hurt anyone that even breathed near them' trope

At the end of the day - Dry Humour, Loveable Characters, Another storyline the MCU can shed light on and bring to the mainstream world, What more could you want?

But I feel this movie would have done a lot better as a show.

It would have had more time to go through each individual storyline. Getting to find out more about Cassie's life growing up, getting to where she is now and her own mother. Seeing more of her travel to Peru and connecting to her heritage there, Where it all started. Getting to see more of the girls backstory's (I understand we'll probably see them in the future, but to fulfill that connection further now at this point and time would be amazing, making us long for another movie etc). Everything felt like they got only half of their stories really shown - I understand Marvel is good for setting up the future, But I feel there could have been more time put into opening up this new storyline for the MCU and letting us take more time to connect to these characters.

In also saying that, I absolutely love all of them and would do anything for them. Especially Ben, I'm number 1 Ben protector I love him.

From a technical side of Film making, I'm still taking some time to understand it. I'm not a Film maker (yet) but I do love studying films and I hope to one day be able to indulge in the world a little more officially, But the way this movie was actually filmed intrigued me.

This feels like one of Marvel's more Drama (+ Dry humour of course) focused movies. It has that character, that heart, but this story, the stories within it and the reason for Cassandra becoming Madame Web to begin with, Her origin, The villain - It leans a little more on the Drama and darker side of things.

I think that's why the sudden quick zooms, whether on someone's face or an action shot felt a little out of place. In this day and age, those type of shots are normally attributed with Comedy shows like Brooklyn Nine Nine, The office etc. but in saying that - Who says that's all they should be related to?

Just because something is different doesn't make it automatically bad.

I think a huge part of Film making is pushing the boundaries and taking chances, Otherwise how do you know what might happen?

It is also hard to portray the abilities Cassie has without making things messy or complicated, I honestly think they did it really well! You could tell when Cassie came back to reality, but in that moment of her vision, you couldn't tell the difference. This may seem confusing, but it's actually quite clever. It sucks you in, You're on that ride with Cassie as she's figuring things out, Just like she is.

When it comes to camera shots going from Drama, Action, Zoom ins and different angles, It could have been a little smoother. But that's from a viewer standpoint, At the end of the day I am not an expert and I don't know the reasons behind each shot. I would be intrigued to see how I would feel watching it again, now that I know the story and understand what's happening, whether anything would change?

I think with more screen time, this movie would have been even better, and while it's not my favourite Marvel movie (Sorry guys, I'm a big softie for the Og movies or pretty much anything that involves Captain America, Moon Knight, Zemo or Korg or...Okay I just love the whole franchise) I would watch it again and am excited to see what the future holds for this story!

With all the set ups we've been getting for the next phase, it's all very exciting.

Also Dakota Johnson is absolutely gorgeous so that's an instant win.

I can't wait to see the future this story holds.

[cookinguptales]

I'm about to have a couple of very physically trying days (which... means they'll probably become emotionally trying, too, with my current emotional state) so like. I'm gonna vent about something and it's dumb and personal but I wanna get it out now so it doesn't come out later at a more inopportune time.

I guess I'll preface this with saying that I don't feel like I can talk to a lot of people about this who are actually close to me, for a lot of reasons. Some people care too much, some people don't care enough, some people are wrapped up in other stressors and I don't want to combine them, whatever. I have a lot of shit going on right now and I've been trying really hard not to put more stress on people who have enough of their own to deal with but that kind of means that I've been carrying everyone else's stress while also trying to carry my own and that's. a lot.

So...... tumblr, then. Screaming into the void hits in a way that writing in a diary doesn't, I guess, though I've tried that too.

A girl I really liked turned me down recently. She was nice about it and I don't harbor any ill feelings towards her. I'd picked up some vibes and I was at least relieved to know that I wasn't crazy; she had some interest too (at least... to some extent, I guess) but didn't want to date for understandable reasons that are purely her own.

I guess as far as getting turned down, it's not the worst thing in the world. Like... I want to be clear that nothing I'm about to say pertains to this girl specifically.

It's more that. God. It's the pattern.

I was abused when I was a kid. In a lot of ways, I guess, some more physically dangerous than others but like. I guess the pertinent thing here is that I was... idk the word for it. It was a complicated situation. I won't get into all the details. It was sexual abuse of some kind, I guess. It was a relationship, if... a weird one.

She really fucked with my head, y'know? I was a kid. She wasn't. She liked "teaching" me things and keeping me at the end of a hook, but she never went far enough that anything strictly illegal happened. (Actually some of it probably was, but I didn't know that back then.) She got tired of me when I got old enough to question things a little.

It sucked.

I guess the point to all that is that I felt really violated and really stupid when it was all over. I... had a really rough period that I really only barely got through.

I had a hard time trusting people after that, but I had an even harder time trusting myself. I'd let someone in and it had been a very bad choice. I didn't trust my own judgement, especially re: other people.

I don't blame myself for it as much anymore. It only lasted a couple years and it was over fifteen years ago, in the grand scheme of things. I don't even think about it as much as I used to. But I can see how it's altered my ability to create meaningful connections with people.

I was in a really vulnerable place back then. I was really sick with a mystery disease, I almost never got to spend time outside of school with my peers, almost all my free time was being spent at doctors or sleeping, I was being physically and psychologically terrorized at home, I was being raised in this awful evangelical setting that gave me very mixed feelings about my own sexuality (and... also meant I couldn't tell anyone when an adult woman was messing around with me without also outing myself), and I just. I mean, I was a teenager. You remember what it was like. You hate yourself.

But someone liked me and someone listened to me and someone convinced a very guarded teen to open up to them and it was one of the worst mistakes of my life. So you can see, I guess, how it became even harder for me to do it again.

I've done a lot of healing in recent years; I don't want to make myself sound like some broken bird. I did feel broken for the longest time. Emotionally fucked up and sick and disabled and ugly and not nearly kind enough to make up for all my defects. I felt like no one could ever love someone like me, and when people did make overtures toward me, I would either miss them (assuming no one could want me) or I would mistrust them, for I guess obvious reasons.

I think... to some degree, I probably lost respect for people when they liked me. It was pretty fucked up.

I'm not exactly uhhh wholly better now. I still have a very, very difficult time believing someone could love me. But I guess... at this point, I don't feel like there is something uniquely wrong with me. I think I deserve to be loved, even if I'll admit that I don't fully believe it'll ever happen.

But I guess all this is to say... I don't catch feelings for people very often. I don't let myself, I guess. I tell myself I'm being silly or flighty or stupid. It's dumb to get butterflies at my age, and it's dumb to believe that someone could like me back. I think I could probably count on one hand the number of people I've genuinely wanted to date.

And... none of them wanted me.

No one was ever mean about it. They all had perfectly good reasons. It was never personal. But I think that's the problem now. I think that's what's kind of been fucking me up the past few weeks in a maelstrom of Other Bullshit Happening Too.

I can't tell you how many times I've gotten the "oh, you're great, I really like you, I just can't because [x]" speech. (Actually, I can. Because, like I said, I don't actually get to that stage very often. But I'm not going to tell you because it's humiliating.) And I've kind of danced around the idea before, but now it's really become like... a sickening sort of suspicion.

I think... I might actually be more broken than I thought. I can't help but wonder if like... can I sense it? Can I sense it when a person isn't looking? When they're straight or they're interested in someone else or they just don't do relationships or they just don't want one right now or they have their own shit they're dealing with?

Can I tell subconsciously somehow that they won't be in a position to want me, and that's why they feel safe to me?

Because. Like, there's bad luck and there's patterns, man. I never know these things going into it. I never set out to fall for a straight girl or a girl with a secret boyfriend or a girl who's just realized that relationships aren't for her or a girl who's planning to move or a girl who just can't do it right now. But I always seem to do it anyway. 100% success rate. I used to joke that I had the best gaydar in the world because if I was attracted to a girl, she would invariably realize she was straight. (Or, back when I IDed as more bisexual, any guy I'd be ??? about would turn out to be gay. lmao)

But like. It's not even just sexuality. I just always seem to pick people who are not gonna want to be with me, but not in a personal way. And like... do I subconsciously like that? Am I still afraid of a person who actually wants to pursue me? To be with me? Do I actively pick people who are in some way unavailable?

I don't know. I don't know if subconsciously picking up on stuff like that before even they know is possible. I might be giving myself superpowers here to cope. lmao.

I've had a few people express interest, I guess. Mostly boys, and I was never all that interested in them. I always just wanted to figure out a way to extricate myself from that situation. lmao. But even now, now that I'm really trying to put myself out there, I've had girls I've gone on a couple dates with. They always want to keep trying. I don't.

I've always put it down to a lack of chemistry (which is normal on dating apps, tbh) and the fact that, due to my own trauma, I usually need to know someone reasonably well before I feel comfortable enough to start to really like them, but. Now I've gotta wonder, y'know? Did I not like them because they liked me?

I guess... I don't harbor ill will toward anyone who's turned me down. They've all had perfectly reasonable reasons. And... no, I don't think that I'm some uniquely awful person whom no one could ever love anymore. But there's something about being 18 years old and having doctors touching you more than anyone your own age ever has. There's something about being 25 and never having been on a real date before. Being 33 and having never been kissed.

(Cringe.)

You kind of start to feel like... it doesn't happen for everyone, does it? And maybe you're just gonna die alone with the trees.

I guess I'd rather be alone than be in a relationship with a person who doesn't want me, or who I don't want either. I could probably find someone equally lonely to settle for me if I really tried.

But like... god, I don't need fanfic romance, but I just want someone to genuinely want me. To see all of the awful parts of me that I hate and like me anyway. To not be unsure whether they want to be with me or not, but to be excited about it.

I guess I just want to feel like I'm enough.

But I also guess I'm self-defeating, apparently.

I've gone on half-hearted dates because I'm trying, damn it, but I hadn't really liked someone in... god, probably about eight years when I realized I liked this girl. I was uhhh. Surprised. To put it lightly. lmao. I think I'd really managed to just about give up.

But I guess... I really have been healing, to some degree. I've had therapy, I've gotten quasi-medicated. I've done a lot of self-discovery. I thought that maybe this time, it would be different. She seemed like she might actually like me. Maybe I could actually be, y'know, normal.

I think... I'd almost kind of come around to the idea that I could be loved, eventually, maybe, a little bit? So I got up my courage and asked her out.

But I did it again, friends! I sure did it again. So as much as I tell myself that it was one flirtation that didn't really go anywhere, that it wasn't me, that it wasn't her, that these things happen and all you can do is try again...

It just. It gets harder every time. And idk if I can keep doing this. Hope hurts too much, maybe, and I'm not a very strong person.

Maybe I should just. idk. Focus on traveling and creating and helping people. All the things that idk how much longer I'll be able to do.

(I'm getting sicker every fucking year and I know it. And brooo if that doesn't fuck me up a little too. Who the fuck is gonna wanna deal with that? Even I don't wanna deal with that.)

I keep trying to tell myself that you can have a full life without a partner but like. I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm that person whom everybody likes but nobody loves, y'know? Maybe I don't even need a partner specifically. Just... a person who really, really loves me. Maybe I just need to know that I'm capable of it. Being loved.

Just once. Even if it doesn't last. I just need someone to choose to want to be with me just once. And god, I need to be able to let them.

(My mom and dad love me, to be clear! But they also love my sister, who is a literal attempted murderer and confessed animal torturer. And me-torturer. So like. idk if that makes me feel better, actually.)

idk. I don't have some neat way to sum all this up. I just feel really lonely right now, and kind of stupid if I'm being honest. Like I tricked myself into coming out of my shell again and it just. Wasn't a good idea.

But... like I also feel like I've been lying around being stressed out and licking my wounds long enough. I'm not okay yet (...obviously) but I'm starting to depression spiral so it's good to get out of the house and be with other people again. But if I don't wanna break down and answer them honestly when they ask me how I'm doing, I guess I gotta be honest somewhere.

Today's gonna hurt a lot physically, I'm gonna be really tired, and it's gonna be emotionally difficult. But there will be good things, too, and I guess... all I can do is focus on that, right?

Sigh. I wanna go be with the trees. One week till California.

(Note: I did just want to say that these posts really are just a place to sort through my feelings and not some weird passive-aggressive bid for attention or something. I told everyone who might be involved with this post to avoid reading it! Though if they decided to do so anyway, they're probably thinking they dodged a fucking bullet! lmao)

[pullingheavendown]

I've been trying to process some bullshit my friends said on holiday but it touches on so much discourse-esque bullshit that I practically don't want to, when it's really not that black and white to me.

They would casually bring up The Most Triggering Topic as a punchline to their jokes, basically. And I'd switch every time. Like a car crash in my head, blurry vision for half a second, forget the conversation, have to reorient in half a second, and then be stuck there trying not to howl and freak out until I could excuse myself from the room. I'd be shaking with so much rage and adrenaline, and just coursing with sadness. That it's just a concept to them; a joke; that these are people who know my history and helped save me from it, who still couldn't gauge that like... Just because I don't care if people engage with those topics in fiction or whatever doesn't mean I'm okay to hear that shit out loud, as a punchline, as anything other than so fucking painful my brain has to reboot.

The first time I spent hours in my room in the airbnb trying to stop hyperventilating and telling the triggered parts that we were safe. The second I had to leave the restaurant and cool off outside. The third, I was shaking with so much rage and despair that it took me half an hour before I could go back in.

I don't care what you read, or write, or fantasize about. I mute things online. I filter. I protect myself and manage my own triggers to the best of my ability. I can't do that around people who just open their mouth and say shit to my face.

I met my therapist in person for the first time mid-trip. All we talked about was those first two incidents and how I wanted to go nuclear and explode on them, I get so angry that I wanted to dissolve the friendships on the spot. And he was similarly surprised anyone who knows me would do that around me, and helped me feel like considerably more in control and less like I'm the problem.

And then they did it again.

I can't confront people when I'm that angry without exploding so I leave the situation but that also means I'm not at a place yet where I can have a discussion about that shit and establish boundaries. I'm learning. But.

I just never want to be in a room full of people I trust who will make me feel that way again. I don't know what that means other than avoiding them when I don't want to. Because they're great people outside of the "brain rot" (their words). I love them. I appreciate them. I know when they're talking about those topics, they're talking fiction and blorbos and their experience of those topics is so far from connected to reality that it's apples and oranges. They're not discussing actual shit. But MY triggered-ass brain can't maintain that distinction.

It just sucks that an entire trip was me being forced to switch and practically overdose on benzos because they can't shut the fuck up about their nonsense for more than 12 hours at a time. I guess.

But at least I don't feel like the problem in all of this. I'm doing the best I can. I didn't take it out on anyone. I handled what I could. If we ever get together again, I'll talk to them about it and if they have an issue, I'm not going.

Just... wish it had been otherwise. Wish I weren't this reactive.

Wish a lot of things.

[flowervolcano]

I know I have seemed anti Antonia Dreykov but it’s not like that at all. I just get mad that she wasn’t a well written and fleshed out character and I hope for some new things for her.

Originally I thought ooh he could be Marvel’s first trans character, have Tony transition to male that way “look he’s a male” and I’d really be down for this idea

But if not, idc we could do a female Taskmaster, just let her have spunk, energy, charisma, let her get her own personality anything that isn’t all drama filled. She deserved better than that.

So I want some things for her, which is; figuring herself out, after years of being silenced I want her to be a mouthy little troll like her comic counterpart, she uses the “my father silenced me my whole life now I’m making it your problem” excuse whenever someone on Thunderbolts gets annoyed with her excessive banter/talking. She has so much she missed out on, she could be like a little socially awkward at first but then really just kicks it off. Maybe she picks up skateboarding randomly just because she saw someone do it. I want her to reclaim some humanity and personality. All things she was dismissed from having. Let her thrive and grow into a real person. I’m afraid they will just keep blandly writing her with no soul and she’s only “I was a weapon” like Bucky, Yelena and Ghost weren’t. (Not all of them are as moody but you get the point)

Then I also really want them to utilize her powers more, explain that the chip in her head is actually just because her father is a control freak and was limiting her to a program. That the powers don’t have to be computer functional. Idk taking away a super hero skill like that sucks imo and that was one of my major complaints when it first came out

BRING BACK THE CAPE PLEASE!!!

The main reason I’m upset with the “reveal” was mainly because Taskmaster’s identity never mattered to him, he was a just a dude who loves his skull mask and refuses to take it off so when she took off the mask in the movie it felt jarring (not because she was a woman btw) but because it felt so not like Taskmaster to do so. I didn’t care who was going to play Taskmaster as long as the actor kept the mask on 90% of the time. It’s kinda not fair to such a great actress though, which added to my distraught feeling. It felt like so many good things and potential was wasted. Because no I feel like her identity is more important than her skull mask (rip) but that’s a simplistic argument

Instead it would have been devious if she wasn’t actually Dreykov’s daughter but staging that to get under Black Widow’s skin (I say this because the timeline makes no sense in 2008 Antonia was around the ages of 7-10 which I would be around the same age as her, and she does NOT pass for 16-20 years old, let me remind y’all that BW was set in the year 2016, so if she was let’s say born in 2000 (like me) by the time it’s 2016 she would only be 16. So that is still making the least amount of sense in direction of writing. If honestly would have been better if instead of trying to connect her in that way, sure go with “victim” but not if the timeline makes no sense. Sorry I’m rambling a little it’s just I take my timelines very seriously and can’t stand when the math ain’t adding up.) ignoring the mess up in the time line I just didn’t like the needing to be related to someone to hurt Black Widow, and having her only exist like a pawn was upsetting for me. And the character as a whole.

Instead she could have just been anyone who was being abused. Maybe Dreykov found her and her unique abilities and abused that to his will and forced her to work for him. She could have been in the explosion but not related to him even, but he uses that event against her. “I saved you and made you what you are, you are in debt to me” or even worse the old “I took you in when you had no one, I’m the only one who would care about you now” obviously he’s a gross manipulative old man who had no regard for women. But there was so much to work with to make him even more evil and disgusting. He never cared who anyone was even his own daughter yikes— while I like the idea to a point it didn’t quite work in the long run and execution. But we can work around that! Let Antonia shit talk him constantly after he’s dead. It would be funny. Let Antonia be lazy too. I think she deserves to kick back and annoy people a little. I just want to see her healing and I’m trying to morph her into the little bastard Tony Masters any way I can.

She can really be an interestingly complex character, she could only be in it for money like Tony usually is, and that works, some people are just like that. Maybe she feels like she has nothing else in life (because she doesn’t) so money is the only thing that makes her happy. Besides this absolutely works for the name change to Toni Masters, who would want to keep the Dreykov surname??

All in all I had much to write about but started ranting and losing my process. What I really think is most important is letting her be a character, a unique one. Just because she’s gone through traumatic events doesn’t mean she has to be a brooding, serious, depressed character, let her be goofy and whatever because she went through a lot and this is how she copes!

Just let her own it and be a fresh take, something free from everyone. She doesn’t need her dad, sympathy, pity, Black Widow, nobody she is her own hero. And she just wants to do some shots at a bar because why not.

Oh and finally, let her date Ghost/Ava. I think they’d have a wonderful chemistry together.