#like if they end up liking what happens then it solves itself and if they don't then that's karma

[eerna]

One part that makes me really sad is that arcane used to explore and be centered around Zaun and Pilltover issues but then at the end of season 2 it's totally wiped out, okay everybody is fighting together but what will happen after ? The relationship between both parts of the city (as well as inside of them with the Concilors' deceptions, the rivality of the gangs, and different "eras of leaders" (Vander/Silco/after) etc) has been so complex and confrontational for decades, with pilltover system crushing the undercity without a care, it was really explored in season 1 and at the beggining of season 2 (even episode 7 showed us a different dynamics btwn the two) but then I feel like it was forgotten... like okay they had a common enemy and fought and had losses together but is this really enough to resolve the issues between the two?? Like in practice what will change so they can both be equal after decades of oppression ? Like pilltover system was flipped out by the killing of the council and the undercity at war with itself after Silco's death managed to rally by the imagery of Jinx and revolution, and now after the whole war/hextech thing they can reach a point of change but I need to see it in practice!! Don't we forget that a few episode ago, the "Main Concillor" and her tag team went on a rampage, gassing Zaun, reversing a system put in place by a councillor so they could breathe.... And then she became even more authoritarian, and is she going to face any repercussions for this ? No (I mean none of the characters really do but.. they were all up in arms trying to locate Jinx for what she has done, but for cait well absolutely nothing..)

Like even the hextech was created at first by Jayce and Viktor to improve lives but in the end was first used only by pilltover, and they lost their minds when the undercity got a hold of it (okay they were attacking but you see my point..), then weaponised against zaunites, and then we know what happened... and Viktor got sick in the first place because of this gas in the fissure and that what started the whole transmutation thing....

Anyway, sorry, I'm rambling and totally losing the plot... but what I'm trying to say is that Arcane really used to explore in details the dynamics inside and between the cities and now we don't get any sort of proper closure about it, it's only left to our imagination. Like it was a center storyline and underlying others... And even the end of season 1 left us on a cliffhanger about that, it was also the original dream of Vander, Silco and the sisters' mom... And even tho they gave us an inkling of what might happen, I think they could really explore this further, because it feels like loose ties...

PS: I'm so sorry, I'm so incoherent and my English is bad, I'm just tired so I can't properly explain what I mean but I hope you still got it...

I totally understood what you mean, no worries! One non-English tumblr user to another~

It was such a fairy tale solution. I don't think a few Zaunites joining Enforcers had the power to totally flip the way Piltover looks at them. Remember how they treated Vi at the beginning of the season? Well that doesn't matter anymore. They have a seat at the table now yay. System fixed. No one will be punished for the crimes against the people, because it isn't even established what the crimes are. All we know is that fighting Viktor and Ambessa convinced Zaunites to give up on their revolution. S1 set up the conflict so carefully and explained why it can't be solved easily SO WELL, only for s2 to go and say "skill issue"

[greenerteacups]

most of my AO3 comments are really amazing but every now and then i'll get one that is just wildly entitled

like someone just wrote a comment on ch38 that's like "please have them get together soon i don't want to wait. also [x] needs more character development." ??? bitch i'm not a menu why are you out here trying to order

[leatherbookmark]

actually i have discovered the only true and correct reading of md/zs: wgxn are the true Evil Men of mdzs. just look at how they’re dealing with lxc post-guanyin

[annabelle--cane]

"the magnus protocol had a whole ARG beforehand? what?"

yes! it did!

"oh so I need to have participated in this whole big thing to actually understand the podcast?"

not at all! from the official post-mortem put out by RQ, "while the ARG was not something that was necessary to participate in to understand the magnus protocol, it was designed to contain a wealth of background story and context that would enrich any player's listening experience."

"a wealth of background context that would enrich my listening experience 👀👀👀 how can I learn about this?"

SO glad you asked. sadly, many of the materials made for the arg have been taken down since the game ended 😔 (ex., the official OIAR, magnus institute, and bonzoland websites. (edit ii: I found partial wayback machine captures! see below) though @strangehauntsuk is still up!), so we're a bit low on primary sources, but in terms of learning about what happened:

for a starting point, I would really recommend this video by @pinkelotjeart

it's super accessible, it was made in real time as the game progressed and follows the solving and revelation of clues as they happened, it hits all the major points of the mystery and moments of community insanity while eliding some of the nitty gritty puzzle grinding, 10/10 would recommend.

here's the official summary put out by RQ, and I'd recommend reading through this once you've already gotten a basic handle on the flow of the story and the basic connections between major clues and events. it's got some fun behind-the-scenes info and lays out the thought process behind the puzzles in simple terms

here's the full masterdoc of all puzzles and resolutions put together in the statement remains discord server. masterdoc my absolute BELOVED, masterdoc my bethrothed, masterdoc my soul mate. I'd recommend this as a second port of call after the above video as it either contains all details about the puzzles or links to other expanded docs that do.

here's the narrative summary doc that lays out all the plot and lore discovered in three pages of plain prose. if you just want to get to the good bits as fast as you can and get blasted directly in the face by contextless lore bombs, this is the doc for you. if you don't want to start with the video, I'd say this is another good entry point.

once you've got the lay of the land, some of the game materials that I found particularly interesting include:

the in-universe east germany expat usenet forum, with all content translated into english. most of it is irrelevant space filler with occasional extremely sus lore, but I still found it fun to read through. love to soak in some fictional forum drama.

chdb.xlsx, the spreadsheet of the names of all the children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was studying/experimenting on. EDIT: here is a version of the sheet without any annotations and with all of the names in their original order, kudos to @theboombutton for catching that the commonly shared copy had the order swapped around.

klaus.xls, a (very corrupted) spreadsheet with what looks like the classifications of a bunch of old OIAR cases.

EDIT: have a few more saved materials from the game that I forgot to include.

an in-universe audio ad to apply to the OIAR that ran before archives episodes and kicked off the whole game.

an in-universe video ad to apply to the OIAR, this one is an official upload that's still up from the game itself. you can subscribe to the OIAR's official youtube channel today, if you so chose.

the robo-voicemail greeting from the OIAR's phone line.

EDIT II:

here is a wayback machine capture of the OIAR's official website.

here is a wayback machine capture of the bonzoland website.

(pretty sure both of the above captures just archived the home pages, though I haven't tried clicking all of the links. I'd say they're still worth looking at, the home pages give a good window into the vibes.)

once you start poking around in these documents, you'll find a bunch of links to others with further information, the materials I've included here just contain what I feel to be the most relevant details to getting a broad feel for the whole game. once again, huge shout out to the statement remains server, I was barely in there as the ARG was in progress and only ducked my head in every so often to find links like these. true mvps of the fandom.

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[pawberri]

My most hated counterargument to the idea that therapy is useful is:

"Therapy is totally individualistic. If you say that you're scared of climate change or racism they'll tell you to stop being scared and solve it internally."

Because you know... while this CAN and DOES happen... it doesn't encompass all of therapy. You know what my therapist tells me to do if I talk about oppression or systemic issues? Volunteer! Get involved in my community! Actively push back on the isolation and hopelessness I'm feeling by Doing Something About It. Plus, even if I tell my therapist "I'm freaking out about climate change" and she says "take a deep breath and remember that the world is not literally ending at this minute", that isn't more selfish or individualistic than posting on tumblr about how you shouldn't get treatment ever because suffering is inevitable. Especially in times like these, getting the help you need to be able to take action and be a part of your community is not shameful. Severe mental health issues that completely derail your life are also not the only or inevitable reaction to these things happening.

I think it annoys me so much because it assumes there are no leftist therapists, no leftist therapists of color, no leftist therapists of color who experience poverty, etc etc. It assumes that the whole scientific field is disinterested in itself and making itself better. I promise you that whatever question first pops into your head has been presented and debated and expanded upon by people whose entire life revolves around it. I read studies all the time that show how forming community around an oppressed identity and participating in activism helps mental health and hopelessness. Yes, the world is full of systemic suffering, but NO, the only solution is NOT to give up and give in. Therapy can genuinely be what you need to survive and get out there and make change, and it's as valid as any other form of medical care. Don't listen to any stupid disengaged therapist who tells you just not to care and disconnect from the world completely but also don't listen to anyone who discourages you from getting help on that basis. That is not the only kind of therapist that exists.

[nothomegal]

"Flashing warnings"

Pyramid Head x GN Reader

Summary: you've been with the executioner for quite some time, enough for you to have your own special bond. You were his, and that fact alone was enough for the whole Silent Hill to avoid you, well aware of what they'll find out if they mess around. However, this little rule is unknown for any unfortunate newcomers that get trapped in this cursed town, and today you've met one of these newcomers... One would think, seeing monsters avoiding you like fire should be enough proof to do the same, but... Eh, some people are way too stubborn and blind.

Warnings: typical violence and gore, (Y/N) getting mistreated by meanies >:(

Word count: 2.9k

(Y/N) been sitting on this old matress for quite some time, they've already tried any possible sitting position yet non made the book they're reading more interesting.

Pyramid Head, or how they began to call him, 'Pyra', left to hunt and punish whatever soul putrid enough to get his attention. He's been gone a good amount of hours and they haven't heard a single sound of his in the distance, no metal scraping against the concrete at the distance or any screams of agony from his victim, nothing. How many hours it been? Three? Five? It's tough to tell, specially when this town knows no day/night cycles and it's always foggy. Even though they're not sure how long it been, they can tell it's the longest Pyra's been gone.

They switch into a laying position as they begin to think about what to do now. They could totaly go out and take a walk if they wanted, but they're concerned they'll end up bumping into the people Pyra is hunting. No, they won't get punished but they don't want to witness a literal slaughter neither, and whenever something (literaly anything) dares to interact with (Y/N), the pyramid headed beast seems to go wild of fury.

This is some very serious issolation, but (Y/N) became fine with it and Pyra is not as bad of a company as he initialy was. Feel him close to them, his big palm resting against their body as a reminder that he's there, the random noises that come out his helmet whenever he seems content or wants to get their attention... To be honest, these little things became more than enough at this point, and it's not like they've used to be the most social butterfly anyways. And even if they were... Well, arguing with Pyra is useless, he never budges, and if (Y/N) starts to get unreasonable or the argument goes nowhere, he simply brushes his togue across their face, purpously waiting for the moment their open their mouth. And ta-da! Argument solved since (Y/N) is too shocked and flustered to continue and Pyra simply let's out a deep and amused rumble.

(Y/N) chuckles to themselves at this memory, when it happened the first time the face they made was probably priceless, and the way Pyra allowed them to hide their face in his chest so the shame goes away... Sigh, they hope he returns soon.

The hairs on the back of their neck stood up when they began to hear the sound of numerous people run and hurriedly yellsomething to each other. (Y/N) of course panics a bit, and to avoid any possible interaction with the group of people they sneak into the corner of the room near the door, so if anyone of the group peeks inside they won't notice (Y/N) right away. It also seems like the people are running away from something, something that is not Pyra because of the lack of known bulky footsteps and scraping sounds.

Unfortunately, their little plan went town the drain when the group of around five man bursted through the old door and attempted to close it, while the creature outside of it was desperately slaming itself against the wooden surface. (Y/N) turned completely still as they shrunk in their place, internally hoping that due to the intense moment these people wouln't notice then and would simply brush off their form as some inanimate object.

Unfortunately, one of the men did noticed them.

—"Hey Dave, there's another one hidin' over he-"—

The man couldn't finish the sentence as the creature from the other side managed to burst through the door, throwing the men on the ground in the process. Some of them stumble back, others pull out their weapons and point at the creature, who resulted to be a monster known as ‘Slurper’, take a guess why it's called that. Not the most difficult creature to deal with but definitely the trickiest, it’s very fast and definitely can handle or dodge some shots and hits from the group.

The monster crawls inside of the room, it’s elongated face making some slurping noises as drool and blood drips from its mouth. But the beast suddenly freezes mid-step, and very slowly and subtly turns it’s head towards (Y/N), making the men look at them as well. The monster suddenly lets out a whine, similar to that of a dog, and practically runs away at high speed, completely terrified.

The group stare at the door in shock, their mouth gaping a bit. (Y/N) remains stiff, their knees pressed to their chest as they think what to do now. The answer comes when one of the man, who seems to be the leader, stands up and starts walking towards them, his expression indescifrable, but his gaze definitely holding malice.

So (Y/N) jumps to their feet as fast as they could and make a run through the doorway and down the hallway. They can hear the group yell something as they chase them, their voices angry and irritated, which only motivated them to keep running since it’s now clear that these people weren’t kind at all.

Things turn significantly worse when they get grabbed by the back of their clothes and then tackled down on the floor, the impact was rough and quite painful which made (Y/N) release a pained whine. The man above them grabs a good chunk of their hair and presses their head agains the dirty and cold floor as he looks at them.

—“The fuck was that? How did you do it?!”— he exclaims strictly, his tone demanding.

—“D-Did what?… S-Scaring the- the monster th-thing?”— you nervously reply, your voice a bit shaky. —“I-It’s not really me, it’s the being tha-that ‘owns’ me.”—

(Y/N) knew they sound like they’re crazy, like they’re out of their mind, but it’s the best way they can explain their unusual situation. It is true, the executioner practically owns them, he has the power to claim and to keep them with him, to keep anyone and anything away from something his, to keep them eternally by his side, his and no one else's.

As expected, the man on top of them only scrunched his face with confusion and disgust, definitely thinking that (Y/N) is just another crazy ex-resident of this hellish town.

—“Yeah… Right.”— he slowly says.

—“Mathew, do you still have the tape? Bring it.”—

A clear sound of a duct tape being unwrapped made them shiver, uh-oh, they’re in a big-time problem. They attempt to wiggle out and keep running, but the man above them slams their head agains the floor.

—“Keep it still bitch, we just want to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you.”— he grumbles angrily and slams your head again.

(Y/N) could feel blood start dripping from their nose. Being forced to calm down since these men clearly aren't fooling around and are not afraid to hurt them if they need, they relax and allow another one to tape their wrists together behind their back, as well as their ankles.

—“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, the executioner will not have mercy…”— you comment, not even bothering to elaborate, knowing that these people are dead meat already.

—“Pff, executioner. If you’re of his property, then why were you in that room just chillin’ all by yourself?”— another man asks.

—“Because he can allow himself to do it, and because any smart creature knows to not fuck around me because of what they’ll found out.”— you say, your tone a bit sassier by the end.

—“Any smart creature, huh?”— the man that was on top of you suddenly grabs you by the throat. —“In my understanding, a smart creature will learn to shut the fuck up, I could easily cut your tongue off right now if I wanted but not sure if that will affect whatever effect you have on the monsters, so I'll give you one last chance to remain quiet, understood? You farm animal.”—

The grip on (Y/N)‘s throat was tight and it was hard to breathe, the male’s eyes were dark and cold, no hesitation in them as he said these threats, definetely not the first time he makes them. Believing his words, (Y/N) nods hurriedly as the lack of oxygen began to affect them. The man grins and let go of them roughly, basically throwing their body on the floor.

—“Aight, who’s going to carry their ass?”—

The men discuss for a short moment, until agreeing that the biggest one of them should do it. Ones everything was sorted out and (Y/N) was being manhandled in his grasp, the group resumed their walking.

The men were shocked, some of them even got smug, at the way the creatures avoided them now. What’s that? A monster does have guts to attack? A single sound or movement from (Y/N) was enough to set the creature from fight into flight. Each time something run away, the men would laugh and cackle loudly, clearly feeling like they've beat the system and are some sort of untouchable beings.

Silly bastards, they don’t know what awaits them.

It’s unclear how long they’ve been roaming around, but it was long enough for the group to get lost, again, and decide to take a rest. The man carrying (Y/N) carelessly (throws) puts them on the ground, face first, as the rest settle down as well. Non of the five bothered to talk or acknowledge (Y/N), though sometimes they would throw some random questions at them, but of course they'd never been able to finish the answer since one of the five would end up rudly interrupting them.

At some point (Y/N) began to ignore them, aware that they're nothing but a gag to these people. The youngest of the group seemed a bit pissed at being ignored, so he stands up and walks towards (Y/N)'s lying form, who was still paying no mind, and out of nowhere kicks them hard on their stomach, making the air inside of them leave in a violent exhale.

—"You talk and look at us when we speak to you."—

They say nothing, still trying to regain their breath. The man above them sighs and rolls his eyes before crouching down and grabbing them by their hair, to posteriorly pull them to their knees.

—"Listen sugar, just because you scare away the crap that lives here, it means shit to us. You're fuckin' helpless and at our mercy, so you do and act as told and when is told, understood?"—

Before (Y/N) could do anything, a sudden deafening roar resonated through the whole building and from an unknown direction. The noise similar to some huge unknown beast fiercely howling through something metallic. A shiver of anticipation ran through (Y/N)’s spine, Pyra must’ve found their drops of blood and figured out what happened, and now he’s on his way to take them back.

The other five noticeably tensed up and frantically looked around, as if trying to locate the creature through the walls...

Walls.

(Y/N)'s gaze was already focused on one of he walls, knowing that their lover would't waste his time in searching for an entrance. The man, who's still holding them by their hair, slowly drags his gaze to the same wall.

—"Guys..."— he says uneasily.

—"Yes, we heard that too, dumbass."— one of the other four hisses back.

—"No, guys, get away from the fuckin- "—

A loud crashing sound resonated behind the mentioned surface, followed by the well known heavy footsteps and scraping of metal. The other four quickly get behind the fifth and (Y/N), who was currently having the brightest grin on their face, relieved that he came for them.

—"{The fuck was that?!}"— one of the males yells half whispers to you.

—"That?"— you let a little hum as you close your eyes and look away so the dust doesn't get directly into your face. —"That is the reason why everything in here avoids me."— you say with the calmest tone possible.

—"Wha- "—

Another loud crash and a huge wave of dust cut off his question completely. While the dust was still on the air, the previous heavy footsteps were quickly approaching, making the floor shake with each step. When the men saw the silhouette of this massive unknown creature they paniced, since it showed no hits of stopping, quite the opposite actually. The one, that been holding (Y/N), pushes them roughly forward without thinking, actin on some desperate instinct.

—"Here! Take them instead!"—

The five were ready to run, but got stopped by their own shock when the monster reached out and caught (Y/N) before they fall on the ground. It was still hard to see what exactly the beast did, due to the still thick layer of dust, but the sudden loud and deep metallic growl that the beast let out was enough for them to defrost and set into running. They don't get too far though, since their legs get suddenly caught and tangled into a bunch of rusty wires and thorns coming out of the floor, whick held them still and cut their soft flesh with the mildest movement.

A small chill jolted through (Y/N) at the sight of the mysterious thorns. They knew it was Pyra's doing, he rarely used that hability of his and they learned that he only uses it when he's trully pissed. And he wasn't just that, he was livid. The sight of bruises on (Y/N)'s neck from the previous grab really railed the monster up, just how dares that filty mortal touch and mark something his? Only he has the privilege to touch (Y/N), to hold them, to look at them, to hear their voice and all the things they say in that calm and sweet tone they always use when they're happy... Just how dare they attempt to take all of this away from him? The executioner.

The monster tears the tape off (Y/N)'s wrists and ankles before putting them down, his movements a bit rough due his agitation yet he did his best to keep it under control.

He then rises to his full height, sword in hand, and slowly walks towards the group. The closer he got, the more desperate the man acted, pulling their legs out of the sharp wire-mess just for it to tangle around their limb even tighter.

The beast's first target was the youngest one, the one who had the guts to hold (Y/N) by their hair and threaten them, Pyra really didn't like that one.

The male has no time to even inhale to start begging, as the monster simply cuts him in half with his sword. (Y/N) of course didn't want to see the gore that is about to happen, so they carefuly and quietly leave the room through the hole their beast of a man made durning his enrance. The last thing they've seen before leaving was Pyra practically tearing one of the man up apart like paper, going specially slow to inflict even more pain.

(Y/N) is unsure how long it took Pyra to finish them, they simply remained sitted on the floor with their legs pressed against their chest and covering their ears to silence the screams and the wet gory sounds of muscles and bones breaking. They let out a yelp when their body is suddenly pulled up by a pair of large arms and is pressed agains a broad torso. Pyra held (Y/N) in this posessive embrace for quite a while, the mildes movement from them would make the beast growl and press them even closer.

(Y/N) however, still attempted to soothe their lover by gently nuzzling agains his chest and rub it with their hand.

—"I am so sorry..."— you apologize, though you both knew it wasn't really your fault. —"I was just hanging out in that room we've been before, and... And these people entered there while running away from another beast, and- "—

They couldn't finish the explanation since Pyra suddenly shoved their face further into his chest, muffing the rest of their little rant. The action, which embarassed (Y/N) a bit, also made them understand that their lover doesn't need any excuses or explanations, he's content to have them back and unharmed. They sigh softly and eventually relax in his grasp and going practically rag doll, in response and after some time, Pyra's body also relaxed a bit, yet his grip on (Y/N) remained strong and firm like iron, refusing to let go.

—"Pyra."— you manage to move yout head just enough to say it.

A low grumble resonated from his helmet and chest, though it didn't sound hostile, more like his version of 'hhmm?'.

—"I love you, thank you for being around."— you say honestly, as you move just enough to reach his neck area and kiss the little skin exposed between his clothes and helmet.

The little sweet gesture was answered with a low purr as Pyra's large hands roam around their body for a bit, caressing and feeling each curve through their clothes. The touches weren't suggestive surprisingly, which meant that this affection was genuine and not the product of his monstrous lust towards them.

They both stay like this for a while longer, (Y/N) saying and whispering things in a soft tone that Pyra absolutely adored to hear, and he kept holding them against himself, pawing their body time to time just to feel them more. Their warmth, their pulse, their breathing...

To feel them.

To feel them being all H̸̫̥͙̮͍̮͋͑Ḯ̴͓̦̻͈̜͍̇̃͋͠S̴͖̘̍̓̉̑.

[ot3]

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

What is it, and why you should read it.

(Art by purple)

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere is a currently updating webserial by author Lurina. It's one of my favorite things I've read in a long while and I'd like to convince you all to give it a chance.

My elevator pitch is this: A time-loop murder mystery directly inspired by Umineko, with a lot of similar vibes to the Locked Tomb Trilogy - partially due to it's meditations on grief and mortality and partially due to it's far-future magical sci-fi world where we follow a fucked up lesbian necromancer on a task she is determined to see through to the end. A deeply complex, unique, and believable world that plays hosts to one of the best interpersonal dynamics I've read.

In a future so far-flung that it is past the heat death of the universe, humanity has constructed a new society that is post-scarcity but not post-stratification. Utsushikome of Fusai is one amongst a class of prodigious young medical arcanists (essentially grad students) who are invited to visit a recently legitimized conclave of top-of-the-line researchers studying immortality. Accompanying Su is her best friend Ran, a fellow arcanist. Over the course of the novel we begin to slowly unravel exactly what ulterior motives have brought them to this conclave and how events in their childhoods and years of working toward their shared goal has warped their relationship into what we now see. This relationship is the crown jewel of Flower's narrative, and getting to peel back the layers of it as you read is a delight.

Like Umineko, Flower is a murder mystery that prevents itself with in-universe Rules that dictate the murders' parameters, meaning there's a lot to chew on for anyone who likes solving mysteries. For those that don't, like myself, Flower offers instead a richly developed world and plenty of open questions about the sociopolitical and metaphysical implications of its own worldbuilding.

Below the cut, I'll go into more detail about the series (without spoilers!) for those of you whose interest has been piqued.

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere is currently ongoing, updating every few weeks. It's several hundred thousand words, so if you're looking for something substantial to keep you entertained, you've got it. As you might expect from the length, the pacing is decently slow. I don't see this as a bad thing at all, because within this pacing Lurina dripfeeds the readers enough new and interesting information at a regular rate that it never feels like your time is being wasted. But if you can't handle slow burns, I wouldn't recommend this one for you.

If you enjoyed the Zero Escape series and liked that they stopped solving murder puzzles to infodump about fringe science, I think you'll get a lot out of Flower. Characters are frequently interrupting their life-or-death scenarios to have lofty, philosophical and political discussions. It's a ton of fun if you like reading characters argue.

'People have to sleep.' 'People have to work.' 'People have to die.' But those were just vague rules, phrasing I'd used because it had been easier in the context of that conversation. What really mattered, on the day-to-day level, was the idea that it was all for something. If someone invented a elixir that made people not to need to sleep, it would, in retrospect, recontextualize all nights everyone ever wasted sleeping as wastes of time. Not something that occurred for some inherent purpose, but whims of circumstance, a tragedy of when you happened to be born. If you accepted that all unfair things in the world could be removed, if only someone knew how - fatigue, labor, death - then to exist in the world we had now, with all its grotesque imperfections, was to know that you had been violated by fate.

Along those lines it's just got a sense of humor I really enjoy. Pretty dry and cavalier. It manages to keep the mood light without feeling like it's undermining it's own stakes. I'm particularly fond of Su's penchant for telling incredibly depressing suicide jokes that just Do Not Land.

The peer pressure cut into me like a hot knife. I hesitated a little, biting my lip. "Well, uh, okay. I'll just tell a quick one." I swallowed, my mind quickly scrambling. "Okay, so, there's a woman who runs a dispensary for second hand goods. She sees a man come in who's a regular customer. He's kind of a mess-- Has a big beard, a bad complexion. He buys a razor, and tells her he needs it to clean himself up, because he has a date." I could see that I now had Ophelia's attention and that Kam was looking pleased with herself, but Ran was watching me, too. I could see the look in her eyes. It screamed at me, with such vividity that it could be sold at an art gallery: You better not be telling a suicide joke right now, or we're going to have a talk. But it was too late. The wheels were already in motion.

As I mentioned up top, the relationship between Ran and Su is just one of my favorite interpersonal dynamics ever. Period. The author is playing some insanely complicated 5th dimensional yuri chess and I am absolutely here for it as someone who likes characters who are deeply devoted to each other in a way that is deeply deeply fraught. I cant emphasize enough how obsessed I am with what they have going on.

Additionally, as stated, the worldbuilding in Flower is top tier. The author clearly understands how every part of her world functions, which makes the moral quandaries and politics presented all the more impactful because they're very believable. It's hard to talk about Flower's world without spoiling too much of the specifics that get slowly revealed, but it doesn't fall back on any typical sci-fi standard fare and feels like a breath of fresh air amongst recycled and repetitive worldbuilding tropes.

A lot of really fun side characters. Strong voices for all of the supporting cast (♥♥Kamrusepa♥♥) and even though not every character gets their own arc, they all clearly have plenty of interiority. Once again, another thing that makes Flower feel very believable despite it's absurdities.

Autism

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary with anyone?" She eyed him. "Anyone who seemed tense?" "Saoite, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but half of our class is so autistic that they constantly seem tense. You might as well ask me to find a specific turd in a sewer." "Just answer the question, please," she replied flatly.

Guys it's really good just trust me I don't want to spoil you for the more intricate plot beats but they're doing some crazy shit here. It's never a bad time to support an independent author's project. If you're sick of corporate mass-media and stuff needing to be marketable, getting into independent works owned and supported by individual creators is a great way to push back against that. I highly recommend it.

[cheeseceli]

We cry together

Pairing: Idol Hyunjin × non Idol Gn!Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, drabble

Request: Can I request reader who’s an en empath and when she senses that hyunjin has been sad lately she starts crying and then that makes hyunjin cry too and finally open up to her about what’s wrong😭🩷

Warnings: none I can think of

A/n: I think you requested this like last year💀 I'm sorry for taking so long but hopefully you'll like it!

Hyunjin hasn't been himself lately, and you knew that better than anyone else.

His eyes were darker than usual, like he was feeling tired all the time. He'd barely joke around anymore or do his dramatic antics. You knew he wasn't being his normal self, however you didn't know why.

"I'm fine, don't worry" was his usual response to any approach you'd have. Just like now. A whole week had passed and he still was walking around like a zombie - a zombie who'd always fake a smile to try to make you feel a little bit relieved.

You didn't know what else to do. You tried to talk just to hear lies about how he was feeling alright. You tried to comfort him just to realise that he was wearing a barrier around him. You tried to be there for him just to realise that he himself wasn't there, nor anywhere. He was so inside his mind that the real world was inexistent to him.

With this dilemma inside your mind, the whole day had already passed and it was time to bid goodbye. He didn't look at you though, and his "goodnight" was such a whisper that you doubt he meant to say that at all.

Now that's a funny thing about loving someone. You don't only have feelings for them, you have their feelings. If they are happy you're gonna share their smiles. If they are angry you're gonna share their screams. And if they are sad, even if you don't exactly know the reason, you're bound to share their tears.

So when you hug Hyunjin as a farewell, you can't help but cry. You didn't mean to, but the more you cried the more helpless you felt and just tried to find comfort in your lover by hugging him tighter, hoping that you wouldn't disturb him. However, your sobs made Hyunjin come back to earth and back to you.

"Love?" he asked with a soft voice "are you crying?"

You didn't reply at first. Oh, how embarrassing it was to cry like that for no apparent reason. But Hyunjin took your face in his hands and looked at you with the kindest eyes to ever exist. It was the first time in the whole week that he looked at you properly. You didn't realise how much you missed it.

"What happened?"

"I should be the one asking this, Hyunjin. You've been weird for God knows how long and you refuse to tell me what's wrong."

A mixture of confusion and guilt showed up in his eyes before he dried your face with his thumb "You're crying because of me?"

You smiled. Not because you found it funny, but because you couldn't believe the situation itself.

"I just... I just want you to know that you can trust me. I'm here. For whatever you may need or want. Even if I can't solve the problem, I hope that at least we can cry together."

Hyunjin hugged you closer before you could see his tears forming. It was kinda contradicting, really. But for Hyunjin, the way you were already crying together ended up solving the problem in his head, at least for enough time for him to breathe again.

"Do you think I could sleep here tonight?" His voice was a little bit muffled, his face in the crook of your neck, but his words resonated in your skin. You felt he was little to little coming back to life.

"Of course. Why's that?"

"I wanna trust you tonight. I'll tell you everything. Just let me be here with you, please."

"Always."

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Dividers by @enchanthings

[whetstonefires]

Man sometimes I still think about Alfred's Bandit Anecdote in The Dark Knight (2008).

So, the most straightforward reading of this sequence seems to have been the one Nolan intended, because he is not actually a subtle filmmaker, and the further we got into the series the more heavily he committed to making Alfred a mouthpiece. Old man provides words of wisdom that frame the correct understanding of the situation; you can tell it's meant to be correct because subsequent Joker appearances reinforce its thesis statement.

Intended takeaway: some men (like the Joker) don't have rational motivations, they just 'want to watch the world burn,' and you have to account for that when trying to counter them. Chaos agents, basically unstoppable by reasonable means.

But the thing is. This is not a story that stands up to even mild interrogation. The number of assumptions Nolan wants us to swallow without blinking is kind of stunning.

First of all the obvious timeline questions that arise: the Anglo-Burmese Wars and periods between and leading up to them where this kind of white man's burden 'delivering jewels to local elites In The Burmese Jungle to sway them toward British interests, but getting waylaid by bandits' scenario makes any sense all, happened in the 19th century.

The Burmese resistance in the 1930s was centered on university student protests and that sort of thing; it was reasonably successful in moving Myanmar toward independence by increments, though who knows what would have happened without WWII. But it did not provide anyone with reasons to be hand-carrying huge gemstones through forests.

Even if we assume this was somehow a 20th century event, it has to have been before WWII unless we want to postulate a complete alt-history setting, and since The Dark Knight leans heavily into being a modern 21st century story with like, cell phone networking as a major plot point, this still makes Alfred old as balls. Born no later than 1920, and probably earlier.

But that's whatever; comics time. Batman Begins did some fun stuff (possibly in imitation of Batman (1980)) with making it ambiguous what decade it was supposed to be set in, though the sequels dropped that conceit. And anyway, people can be 90 years old.

So that's basically fine, although good god Wayne hire some more servants, this man should be fully retired already.

More problematic is the unfettered colonialism of it all, the confident proclamation that since this guy's motive wasn't profit, since he didn't keep the jewels, he had no motive. Because 'inconveniencing the Raj and weakening their control over the locality' isn't a Real Person Motive that a real person could have had. During or soon after failed wars to resist colonial subjugation.

Like. Come on??

The place where this story utterly shoots itself in the foot, though, is the clever bit at the end, where Bruce asks how Alfred's military unit solved the 'bandit stealing jewels he didn't even want' problem and Alfred's like: 'we burned the forest to the ground.'

Because this is so punchy! In screenwriting technical terms, it's quite well done. It's useless advice that loops the story back to its themes; obviously Batman can't burn Gotham down to get the Joker. Even in a Batman movie that doesn't like Batman very much, this is still obvious.

But at the same time this totally takes the legs out from under Alfred's words of wisdom about human nature. Because if that bandit 'wanted' to 'watch the world burn' then what his unit did wasn't so bad, right; he was basically asking for it. Burning a forest down with all the inevitable collateral damage and economic and ecological cost, all for the sake of horribly killing a group of people in the name of government revenues was totally okay guys!

It transforms the whole thing into a pretty obvious post facto rationalization of colonial violence. Which makes the Insights Into Human Nature bit real questionable!

But the movie gives absolutely no sign of having noticed this.

[gfmima]

c. ルーロック | blue lock + f!reader t. solving the big question of “what are we?”

reo was dumbfounded. “uh… what do you mean? you’re my girlfriend.”

he shifted his weight against the doorframe of his bedroom, nimble fingers run through his disheveled locks. the gesture mirrors his current state of mind, a habit of his whenever he needed to make sense of a situation he couldn’t understand.

“woah, hold up, i’m your girlfriend?!” he can hear the heavy tinge of disbelief in your voice, the slight tremor in your tone had assured him that you weren’t playing an unfunny prank on him or toying with his emotions.

is he dreaming? what the hell is happening?

his confusion reaches ten-fold. the expression worn spoke a thousand words, the intensity of his gaze was familiar, it mimicked the same face he made whenever he had to cram through his taxation homework. if you took a snapshot of him in this moment, you could edit it to be a reaction meme his friends can laugh over.

“are you sure you’re not my girlfriend?” you nod at him then say, “i think i’d know if i had a boyfriend or not.”

how can you say such a thing when he’d been by your side for months on end? he was rendered speechless. he walked you to class, spent the night at your dorm and vice-versa, and shared countless meals with you. he even introduced you to his parents, a gesture that held weight since it’d take a miracle to sneak himself into their busy schedules.

“are you sure you’re sure ‘cuz this makes no sense? what do you mean you’re not my girlfriend?” he shoots an inquisitive look, brow raised in curiosity.

“for one, you never asked me to be your girlfriend, reo? you didn’t even confess that you felt this way about me…”

wait, what?

he inwardly retraces his steps in search for any memory of a confession. seconds pass then a minute and his face turned red with embarrassment and frustration.

he drew a blank.

“oh...” wearing a sheepish grin, he scratched the nape of his neck. “would you like to be my girlfriend then?”

when people thought of you and nagi, the status of ‘friends’ would be the last to come to mind. any person with working vision can see the dynamic of your relationship went beyond the borders of platonic, there was a connection that ran deeper. his concern for you and your well-being surpass what was expected out of him as your friend.

the term itself proves to be inadequate, to them at least.

it failed to capture the extent of your feelings for each other, the unspoken words exchanged, the stolen glances, and the unyielding longing for one another.

after all, just friends don’t send “good morning” and “good night” texts on a daily basis; just friends don’t gingerly kiss each other on the cheek as a greeting; just friends don’t experience a twinge of disappointment and bitterness when one of them goes on a date; just friends don’t embrace one another a little longer than necessary; and just friends don’t feel their hearts skip a beat at the sight of the other’s smile and and the sound of the other’s laughter.

most of all, just friends don’t cuddle in the way you two did. and that fact lingers in the air between you. lightly nudging him, you hope to rouse a answer from him. instead he gives you an annoyed groan, and an even louder one escapes after he heard your question.

“tired, mostly sleepy.”

“i’m being serious! what are we?” tone laced with a touch of playfulness. a stream of consciousness flickered in his eyes, momentarily breaking through his fatigue. a coy grin tugs at the corner of his lips, as the grogginess melts away, and replaces his initial annoyance.

nagi draws your body close to his chest then wraps his arm around your torso, enveloping you in a warm hold. his voice, softened by his affection for you, murmurs near your ear, “we’re… whatever you want us to be.” he tucks his chin over your shoulder then looks up and meets your gaze. “happy?”

[thealexchen]

thoughts on LIS: Double Exposure?

This is probably gonna be my hottest take in awhile, but: I deeply dislike the idea of an official LiS1 direct sequel game existing. Excluding all my thoughts on the gameplay, story, Max's character, etc. I don't think a game like Double Exposure is necessary.

This isn't a new take either; back in 2020 I made a Reddit post saying I was glad we never got a continuation of Max and Chloe's story, because in order to have a plot, you have to have conflict. And to have conflict means your characters are forced to change or struggle in some way, and I simply wasn't interested in seeing that again. I never even read the comics. As long as Max and Chloe's future existed only in the fanbase's collective imagination and not in an officially licensed game, Pricefield could be as happy as I wanted and I wouldn't have to witness DN or D9's version of canon.

A lot of fans, including myself, are also confused and upset as to where Chloe could be in Double Exposure. Even if Chloe winds up having a surprise role, it would likely be too logistically difficult to write Chloe into one version of the story and not the other. Either way, DE is strongly pointing to Chloe no longer being the deuteragonist. If D9 was going to make a direct sequel with Max and Chloe, I could at least be intrigued by how they might write their dynamic and how they'd use Max's power in new and interesting ways. But instead there's... none of that. Chloe's nowhere to be seen and Max can't time travel anymore.

On a narrative level, Max and Chloe are the heart of the original Life is Strange. They represent the game's central relationship, and their very first interaction (Max saving Chloe's life) kicks off the entire story. Throughout the story, their dynamic advances the plot and mutually motivates their character arcs. You can't have LiS1 without either Max or Chloe; the story simply wouldn't exist without them. Now in DE, they don't even seem to be in each other's lives anymore. It's true, this series is meant to reflect universal feelings and experiences, which could include breakups, but the romantic catharsis of Pricefield as canon soulmates who defied time and space itself to stay together forever is something you can only get from the beauty of fiction. To jab DE's story with a dose of reality and go, "Eh, they grew apart. Shit happens," totally undermines everything the Bae ending stood for.

On a technical level, Max's rewind was an objectively brilliant game mechanic. LiS1 arrived onto the scene after Telltale had paved the way for the resurgence of choice-based, episodic games, but LiS1 totally reinvented the wheel by giving the player the option to go back and weigh each option before continuing, essentially save-scumming in-game. But the right choice was never that easy to determine, and Rewind brilliantly complemented Max's character arc of overcoming her indecision and learning to live with her choices. Not to mention, you could also use Rewind to solve puzzles, instead of the endless fetch quests the later games had. No other LiS game since then has given the player that kind of agency and interactivity. LiS2 had telekinesis, but the player couldn't use it, only Daniel. D9 tried with Backtalk and Empathy, but Max's Rewind was truly the narrative and gameplay jackpot that they haven't been able to recreate since.

So if you take away one half of the central relationship that made the first game so memorable, and the supernatural power/game mechanic that made it so fun to play... why even bring Max back at all? It just feels like D9 threw away their golden opportunity to build upon the major selling points of the first game and are only relying on name recognition of the Life is Strange "brand" and Max Caulfield.

What upsets me most of all about a direct sequel existing is that it proves that Life is Strange, as a series, now stands more for profits than originality. Life is Strange will always be an IP meant to make money for Square, I know that, but back when LiS1 was just a brand new episodic game, it stood out for how different it dared to be. In a landscape saturated with shooters, sexualized female characters, and casual misogyny, LiS1 instead featured a teenage girl in a contemporary setting that took her seriously and made her the hero of her story. Before it was a franchise, LiS wasn't concerned with the bottom dollar; it was a piece of art that just wanted to tell a thoughtful, unique story.

Whether you love it or hate it, Life is Strange 2 was an insanely risky follow-up to Life is Strange that refused to rely on the convenience of a direct sequel because Dontnod stuck to their artistic vision. Meanwhile, all of Deck Nine's games have leaned on the first game's following to generate interest (BtS being a direct prequel, TC bringing back Steph, and Wavelengths expanding on Steph's connection to Chloe, Rachel, and Arcadia Bay). In other words, all of the subsequent LiS games by D9 have played it very, very safe. It's worked like a damn charm because there are still elements I love about each game, but the basic principle is nostalgia-baiting fans. It's just that now, Double Exposure isn't hiding that nostalgia bait at all anymore and prioritizing profits over telling a unique story. It's sad to see that LiS has strayed so far from its risky, daring, original, and unique artistic beginnings.

Before I end, I'll say that I can't be too cynical about it all, nor do I want to be. Because I can't deny how much joy this whole series has brought me, too. LiS was what got me into narrative adventure games and pushed the boundaries of what a video game could be. If nothing else, I am truly thrilled that Hannah Telle got the chance to play Max again. D9's always been great at maintaining relationships with their actors, and the casts of their games always have consistently great chemistry. Getting recognized by Erika Mori on my own blog is still unbelievable and speaks to the amazing community that LiS has built. As you can see, I'm still posting and reblogging stuff about Double Exposure. And while I don't see myself buying or playing this game for myself, I know it'll keep all of us talking for awhile, and I still live for a good discussion.

Thank you for asking! And thank you for reading.

[samkerrworshipper]

twos a company, threes a crowd pt.4 | alexia putellas x reader x lucy bronze

r is loaned to real madrid and suffers with being away from her partners for so long… when the el clasico rolls around all of her problems are solved… but not without some repercussions for her actions.

warnings: angst, fluff, comfort, sadness, over working, touch deprived, sleep deprived, punishment, safe word use, injury, concussion, so much angst lol but y'all were begging for it.

Getting loaned to Real Madrid was possibly the worst thing that had ever happened to you. 

You’d been blindsided by the request, you were happy at Barcelona, you were Barcelona’s star striker, an indomitable force on the field and you’d just won the Liga F golden boot, you were everything to Barca, until you weren’t. It was astronomical to your teammates that Barcelona would loan you out, seemingly it was for the money and with the hopes that you would learn some leadership skills from being the strongest in a team. Real Madrid was paying a hefty fee for your season with them, but it still hurt knowing that to Barcelona you were a mere transaction. 

Everything you loved and knew were in Barcelona, your family, your girlfriends, your house, your dogs and cat, your friends.

Madrid was great, and there were plenty of upsides to the team, they were all lovely, the coaching staff was great, your new apartment was awesome, but there were things missing, your girlfriends firstly. 

You face timed every day. It had been impossible for the two women helping you pack up and move all of your things across the country. Sure, they were only a six hour drive away and a hour long flight away, but it killed them both nonetheless. 

They saw the way that as the season progressed you began to become more tucked up in your own shell, the bright light in your eyes slowly fading. It killed them, talking to you every night and seeing the way that your eyes struggled to meet their own anymore. 

They loved you more than anything, but you were a person who needed structure, you couldn’t function by yourself. You needed attention, attention that they couldn’t grant you from hundreds of kilometres away, so you started to get cheeky and bratty. Sending them videos of you touching yourself in the shower, or explicitly disregarding text messages they were sending you. Normally, the two older women would be pissed off, and they were, but the underlying theme was that you were struggling, struggling being away and your coping mechanism was to act out for their attention. The more weeks that passed without their presence, the more needy you became for them, the desperation for your two girlfriends growing in your stomach and slowly swallowing up all of the other organs that resided in your body. 

With the El Clasico match quickly approaching though, the women took solace in knowing that you would be able to spend the rest of the weekend after the game, that they’d finally have you in their arms and for even a second they could make you feel loved and less alone. 

You’d agreed that before the game you’d be strictly professional, you’d stay in your hotel room but as soon as the game was over you were heading back to your old house for a few days of peace with your girlfriends. You were a little bit scared, when the facetime request chimed in from your phone the night beforehand, you were lying in your hotel bed and you couldn’t help but feel anxious. Because you knew what you’d been doing to the women the last few weeks, it had been like a game for you, seeing just how much you could push before you found the end to the Barcelona players tethers. 

“Hola Bebita.”

You pushed yourself up from the bed sheets, sitting yourself up against the headboard to get a proper view at Lucy, whose face was directly in front of yours on the phone screen. 

“Hi Luce.”

Your voice was as meek as ever, your throat clearing itself from the sleepy haze you’d been in. 

“How you doing sweetheart?”

Lucy’s voice was so sweet, it was interesting to you, considering the outwardly explicit videos you’d been sending them over the week, progressively getting more scandalous the closer your date came to travelling to Barcelona for the game. You were expecting a angry Lucy, deiniftely an angry Alexia, especially considering that you’d broken her one cardinal rule that she’d given you before you left. 

Do not orgasm without her permission. 

That wasn’t to say that Alexia was expecting you to hold out for months at times, of course not, she just expected you to call or text her, so she could guide you through it, you’d explicitly ignored that rule, and you expected her to be annoyed. 

“I’m okay, tired from the train, how’s Ale’s knee?”

There was worry laced in your words, when you’d received the news that Alexia had a set back with her knee you’d been gutted for her, and worried, because Alexia tended to fall down the rabbit hole when she was injured, and you just hoped that she was doing alright. 

“It’s a minor injury, nothing to do with her ACL, which is good. She’s sitting out tomorrow, so she’s obviously upset, but it’s not her ACL, so that’s what matters the most. She’s in the bathroom right now, but I’ll chuck her on when she’s done. How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

Lucy’s voice was so genuine, so calm, so caring, and if you were feel less insecure you probably would have confessed all of your worries to her, but you felt so fucking desperate for Lucy and Alexia that it was starting to hurt you but you also didn’t want to come across as needy, even if you felt like you were breaking at the seems for them. 

“Okay.”

Your answer was short, and Lucy frowned at it, because she knew that you were most likely feeling anything but okay. She was going to push it, but she was interrupted by Alexia emerging from the bathroom and walking over to join her on the bed, climbing under the sheets and pulling Lucy’s phone from her hands so she could look at you. 

“Hola bebe, how are you?”

Alexia’s voice is gruff, and if you didn’t know her so well you probably wouldn’t have picked up on the slight puffiness to her eyes, that told you she’d probably been crying whilst she was tucked away in the bathroom, you knew her like the back of your palm though. 

“I’m okay, how’s your knee?” There was some obvious tension coming from Alexia, tension that you were sure you’d get to feel in person tomorrow. 

“I’ve had bigger setbacks, we still have to assess the scans indepthly and get a treatment plan in action. It’s probably just a few rough weeks, but I’ll make it.”

You nod, she always does, she never fails to amaze you with her can-do attitude and determination to always be better, to always be at the top of whatever she’s doing. 

“I believe in you.”

Ale gives you a soft smile, and it doesn’t calm all of the nerves contained in you but it does manage to calm your heart down. 

“We’re so excited to see you tomorrow amor, you’re going to make us proud even in that ugly uniform.”

You know that no matter what club you are at, Alexia and Lucy are always going to be your biggest supporters, but you can’t shake the reminder that tomorrow, when you step on the pitch, all of your friends and family are going to be your enemy. 

It plucks at your heartstrings, and almost sends tears to the back of your eyes. 

“How’s the team been? I feel like we haven’t talked about any of it with us all being so busy.”

The team was fine. 

That was the problem, the team was your team, but they weren’t your family, they weren’t the support that you needed and craved. 

“They’re good, Olga’s been nice and me and Raso get along.”

The two women nodded, they knew they weren’t going to get much from you, but this was even less than what they had expected. 

“That’s good, you can tell us all about it tomorrow, hmm? We’re so excited to hear every single detail.”

The way both of their faces were so happy and content made your stomach do front flips. 

“I’m excited to see you guys as well.”

It’s hard for you to admit, because for the last six or so weeks that you’ve been apart, you’ve internally been denying it, trying to convince yourself that you were fine without them, but in reality you were struggling more than ever. 

Alexia gave you a small smile, her lips tightening upwards into a sweet smile. 

“You’ve been taking care of yourself, sí? Getting your sleep and listening to your dietician?”

You don’t like lying to anybody, especially Lucy and Alexia, but in your mind in some situations, there is justification for some white lies, especially when it’s going to benefit the person you’re lying to. 

“Yup.”

Your words are half empty, trying to get this conversation over as soon as possible. 

“Well, we’d better let you get to sleep then, we’ll see you tomorrow bebe, don’t hesitate to call us if anything happens, okay?”

You nodded at the two of them, a little part of your heart begging for them to hang up so you didn’t have to see how happy they were together, how at peace the two of them looked lying in bed together without you. 

“Bye, see you tomorrow.”

They both smiled at you, Lucy pressed a kiss to the camera. 

“We love you amor, good luck tomorrow.”

You gulped, just another reminder of what tomorrow held. 

“Love you guys too, see you tomorrow.”

Before you had to look at them any longer you pressed the red button, dropping your phone onto the duvet and groaning into the pillow behind you. 

You’d never considered yourself as the jealous type, in the beginning of your relationship you’d been the glue that kept it all together, Alexia brought Lucy in for you, not for herself. When you’d been in Barca their relationship had grown slowly, but surely, you encouraged it. 

When you’d left, you’d almost been scared that it would be the end of your relationship with the both of them, you just weren’t sure that they’d be able to sustain it, but you’d watched their relationship strengthen massively, the two of them becoming practically inseparable in your absence. 

You were happy for them, so incredibly happy, but it made you feel a little bit out of place, a little bit like when you returned to Barca everything would be different, maybe all of their love was being used for each other and they didn’t have anymore to give to you. 

It felt like you’d become a chore for them, a scheduled call every few nights, flowers or meals showing up on your doorstep every week from them, texts here and there asking how you were doing. 

You were all trying your best, but they had each other, the both of them got to come home to each other every night, you came home to an empty apartment. 

Your apartment was a shell, exactly the same as when you’d moved in. 

You didn’t put out any pictures, didn’t buy any furniture, it seemed pointless to you, because Real Madrid was supposed to be temporary, you didn’t want to settle down, didn’t want to become at home in a place that you would be leaving as soon as you could. 

You knew it wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you, or it worked for the first little while. 

The hard part though was that you didn’t have a home at all, and a person can only survive so long without having some form of home, some form of comfort. 

You tried your hardest to sleep through the night, to get some rest before the game, but no sleep came to you as you lay in the lump hotel bed trying your very hardest. 

The team all woke up at 7 o'clock and headed down for breakfast, you went with them but kept to yourself, sitting by yourself. 

You weren’t hungry, more emotionally starved than anything. 

You got a few wayward glances, but you ignored them, opting for scrolling through your phone and trying to put yourself in the right headspace to get you ready for the hellish day that was to come. 

It was a 12pm game so as soon as breakfast was done the whole team was being sent to the bus to Camp Nou. 

It was a bittersweet feeling, returning to a place that had so many incredibly positive memories for you, with a completely different group of people, people that you liked but you didn’t love. 

Your anxiety only rose as you got even closer to the stadium, the realisation of what was about to happen setting in for you. 

Stepping off the bus and into the stadium was weird, normally, it would be with your closest friends, Ale by your side as the two of you stepped foot into a place that had been the highlight of so many of your childhood dreams. 

Barca had always been the dream, when the two of you were little kids it had seemed unachievable, a mere figment of your imaginations, and then it had come true, but it wasn’t your life anymore. 

You kept your head down, speed walking into the change rooms and getting into your game kit as quickly as possible before walking out on the pitch to warm up by yourself. 

Instead of being met with an empty pitch, you were met with a lot of your ex teammates already out warming up, and your girlfriends as well as your closest friends loitering by the sidelines. 

It’s impossible to avoid them, they’re standing directly in front of the entrance to the pitch, you wouldn’t put it past Alexia or Lucy to have planned it, planned a little sneak attack on you pre-match. 

You dragged your feet up and out of the tunnel, loitering a little bit as you waited for one of the women to take notice of you. 

It didn’t take long, Ingrid being the first one to spot you, her big green Norwegian eyes lighting up when they landed on you, her arms lighting up almost immediately, a small squeal leaving her lips. 

The whole group was quick to turn to you, both Alexia and Lucy’s faces lighting up as they took you in. 

“Bebita!”

Alexia looked insane for an injured person, the Barca olympic t-shirt and leather jacket hugging her body perfectly and making her look absolutely drop dead gorgeous. 

Alexia’s big arms opened to you, and you allowed yourself the luxury of walking into them. 

You felt so safe, so at home, it made you sort of sick to your stomach, so much so that you forced yourself out of her arms. 

You knew it was only going to be harder the more you integrated yourself with them over the next few days, because it would only make leaving that much harder. 

Alexia frowned a little bit at the way you almost pushed her off of you, it hurt the Catalan woman more than she would ever admit. 

“You oldies ready to get your asses kicked?”

Mapi’s jaw dropped, her arms reaching for you to put you into a headlock, the only thing stopping her being Ingrid. 

“Oldies? Disculpe? It’s called being experienced.”

You smiled a little bit at Mapi, she was like your older sister, the closest you had to one. 

“Sounds like an excuse for being old.”

Mapi just rolled her eyes at you, her arms opening up for a hug and you allowing her to. 

“It’s good to see you, nena.”

Mapi lets you go fairly quickly, letting you take a step back from the group. 

“It’s good to see you all as well, I’ve missed you guys.”

It was murmured under your breath, the loudest you could vocalise without the words hitting you across the chest. 

“We’re going to have to put a stop to your scoring fun tonight I think, 4 braces in a row? Can’t let you get too big for you… what is it the English say? Pants?”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at her girlfriend and her lack of knowledge for English idioms. 

“Britches, but we get your point.”

Mapi nodded, a little sparkle in her eye. 

“Yes, well, me and Lucia will have to work hard to keep your magical feet at bay.”

You laughed humorously, entertaining María. 

“I guess we’ll have to see, you oldies should get to warming up, don’t want to harm those old bones.”

Alexia hit you across the shoulder, rolling her eyes at you before bringing you into a brief hug and then pushing you towards your half of the pitch, where a few of your teammates were already warming up. 

You went through the motions, all of it blurring in your mind as your eyes glazed over the iconic Barcelona stadium, this was once your home, it was the pinnacle of your career, not today though.

Walkingout of the tunnel, and onto the pitch, a crowd full of blue, red and yellow, normally would be the adrenaline hit of a lifetime, enough for you to walk up mount everest, but not today, today it did nothing but make you weak at the knees and sick to your stomach. 

You did your best to avoid your former teammates' eyes as you shook hands before taking your starting positions. 

Mapi was marking you, which wasn’t abnormal for when you were in training, but dealing with it during a game was a whole different playing field. 

She was one of the best centre backs in the game, you knew this, the crowd knew it. 

You were faster though, more agile, quicker on your toes. 

That was your advantage, that was what you had to use against her, and you planned to do so. 

The first thirty minutes saw no shot opportunities for you, Salma and Aitana both managed to slot in their own goals though, leaving Real Madrid and yourself with big room for improvement. 

You put your head down, focused on what you knew you could do, waiting for the opportunity to come, and it finally did in the form of a beautiful cross from Olga that was sent directly to your head and then into the back of the net.

Your team went wild, you were shocked, completely gobsmacked at how the ball managed to somehow slot itself into the corners of the goal, you didn��t have time to wonder though, your whole team engulfed you in a big hug. 

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the crowd booing you as your teammates pushed you back to your position gutted you, never in your life would you have expected to be booed after scoring, but here you were, standing in the stadium of your childhood dreams with a crowd booing at you.

It was then, in that very moment, that everything sort of set in for you, and as Barca kicked off you couldn’t help but find yourself stuck in position, your studs dug into the turf as you willed your legs to move. 

All you could do was sit and watch the ball moving on the other side of the pitch, the blood was rushing to your ears, deafening you of the booing and making you feel like you were in a fishbowl. 

You felt like a spectator, a external part of your body. 

It was only when the ball was being sent your way, in the form of a pass from Bruun that you finally found yourself being able to move, your legs darting towards the ball as you searched for someone in the box, finding Raso and sending the ball soaring towards her before Mapi had the chance to land a tackle against you. 

It was bread and butter, a simple pass, one that you could make in your sleep. 

For whatever reason though, it came off your boot completely wrong, not making the distance nor going remotely anywhere near Hayley. 

You growled in frustration, cursing under your breath as Lucy of all people took possession of the ball and sent it flying as far down the field as her bott could muster. 

Ras sent you a worrying glance, a silent question of what happened, all you could do was shrug and wonder to yourself what was happening? Why was this happening?

You hardly made it to half time, your body just managing to hold itself up long enough to trudge back into the tunnel and down into the Real change rooms, where Alberto was already getting into his half time pep talk. 

You accepted a gatorade and protein bar from one of the trainers, focusing all of your energy on sustaining yourself instead of paying attention. 

You weren’t trying to be respectful, but today, everything was harder than normal, thinking, breathing, moving, living. 

You weren’t sure why, you were fairly sure you didn’t really want to know why, you just knew that today of all days just wasn’t yours, and it made you hate every single part of yourself. 

By the time half time was over and you were making your way back onto the field, your head was somewhere else entirely, everything from the past few weeks playing on repeat in your head. 

You weren’t in the headspace to be doing anything at all, let alone play out a match of football, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. 

It was clear Mapi had picked up on your inattentiveness, her eyebrows furrowed in concern as the both of you tried to watch the ball moving on the other side of the pitch. 

She didn’t push you, she knew better than to, knew from experience that when you got pissed off on the pitch it was a ticking time clock. 

The ball didn’t end up anywhere near your feet until the 80 minute mark, Barca’s midfield managing to stop any attempts at getting the ball into your third. 

It was aggravating, but you were also grateful, because the longer the ball was away from your feet the further your mind began to drift to places you didn’t trust. 

What happened when the game ended?

When you had to go home to Alexia and Lucy and act like all was fine, be their perfect good girl, be whatever they needed or wanted. 

The ball finally made it to your feet, just above the right corner of the penalty box, before you could even look at the goals though, Mapi was edging her feet towards the ball, sending you towards the corner between the baseline and sideline, managing to boot the ball out of bounds. 

You groaned as everybody set up for a corner, slotting yourself into the goals, watching as Robles set up to take the kick, she was searching for you, nestled between Mapi, Sandra and Pina. 

Pina was tugging on your shirt, slowly teetering your off balance and forcing your further forwards then you’d like, closer to the goalpost as every second passed. 

You heard the sound of the ball connecting with Robles foot, all you could do was jump and send your body forward to where the ball was supposed to be heading. 

You closed your eyes and prayed. 

All you felt was an initial contact, it lasted a second at most, the usual length of a header. 

Then you felt your body continuing to propel forwards, and then there was secondary contact. 

This time it was more blunt, harder, more painful, lasting longer, then there was your body thudding against the pitch, your face going down straight into the grass. 

For a few seconds, it was just pure pain, ringing ears, your brain completely unable to process anything more than that. 

It wasn’t until somebody rolled you over and the bright light from the sun started to try and penetrate your eyeballs. 

“Y/n, Y/n, can you hear me?”

You flinched away from the hand that was dusting the turf off of your face, pushing yourself away from whoever was trying to touch you. 

There were more hands though, on your neck and head, preventing you from moving anywhere at all. 

This stressed you out, your ears were still ringing, your head swarming as you tried to focus on the faces hovering above yours. 

“Y/n, keep still, you hit your head pretty hard, nena.”

It’s Mapi’s voice, extra soft and gentle, her head peeking over yours as she pats your hair out of your eyes and the turf off of your face. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

The other people holding your head didn’t give up, holding you still even as you tried to move. 

“Nena, stay, the medics need to check your neck out.”

María’s voice is a little bit sterner, enough for you to let out an annoyed sigh but relax, no longer thrashing against the hands holding your neck and head. 

“Where’s Ale and Luce?”

Your voice is meek and questioning, a little whisper. 

“Lucia is standing a few feet away, Ale is on the sidelines, they’re here for you nena, do you want them?”

Of course you did, they were all you wanted right now, but for whatever reason you shook your head. 

“No, no, no.”

Mapi looked half hurt by your answer, but she didn’t question it. 

“Okay, that’s okay nena, the medics are almost here okay, just stay calm for me.”

Just as the words left María’s mouth a crew of medics were at your side. 

“Hola, how’s your neck and head feeling? You’ve got a nice shiner on your forehead.”

You nodded at the medic, allowing a small smile to fall across your lips. 

“Neck is fine, a little bit stiff, head’s throbbing but it’s fine.”

You knew subconsciously that all of the sub windows for Real had been used, that if you were to leave the pitch your team would be down to ten, and that simply wasn’t an option. 

Barca might have been up by three goals, but there was a part of you that believed that you maybe still had a chance. 

“Okay, well we’re just going to check your neck to be safe, then we’ll concussion test you, sí?”

You shook your head. 

“I’m fine, seriously, it was only a little hit. My head doesn’t even hurt.”

That was a lie, your forehead was throbbing so bad that you were struggling to make out different colours, but there was no way you’d admit that to the team doctor, not if you had any hopes of playing out this match and the ones to come in the next few weeks. 

“Small hit? Your head practically hugged the post.”

That explained the secondary hit. 

“I feel fine, seriously.”

You were doing a piss poor job at trying to be convincing, you knew it, you were fairly sure the medics knew it. 

“We have to clear your c-spine and head for concussion, it’s not up for discussion.”

Your body involuntarily slumped into the turf, as Mapi and whoever else was holding your head moved out of the way for the medics to continue their assessment of you. 

Flash lights shone in your eyes, and your head was tossed in every which way as they assured you that your neck and spine seemed to be intact. 

Once your neck had been checked they allowed you to sit up, painkillers and a drink bottle being forced into your hand. 

“You’ve got a concussion, I’m not sure what stage, you need imaging and a proper examination inside the medical room, you need to come off.”

You shook your head, this was the El Clasico, this was the pinnacle of your season, you weren’t coming off for some collision with a pole. 

“We’re three goals down, I’m not coming off.”

The medic furrowed her brow at you. 

“Two actually, you somehow managed to put the ball in the back of the net, you need to come off.”

Again, you shook your head in complete refusal. 

“Is there a sub window left?”

Your medic bit down on her lip and shook her head, after that your mind was completely made up. 

“So, I’m not going off to leave my team with ten, I’m playing out the next five minutes and stoppage time, I will deal with the repercussions, when we get back to Madrid.”

You didn’t wait for permission, pushed yourself off of the ground, shoving the water bottle into the trainers hands and righting your uniform. 

“Y/n, you need to come off.”

You once again shook your head, sending a thumbs up to the umpire, telling her that you were fine to continue. 

You went back to your position, getting as far away from the yelling from your team doctor. 

Mapi was on your mark, a very concerned look across her face. 

As you took your position beside her, she leant down to whisper in your ear. 

“You should be getting checked out.”

You gritted your teeth, you were so sick of everybody telling you what you were supposed to be doing, what you were supposed to be feeling, it was your call to make, nobody else's. 

“I’m fine.”

The ball kicked off, the sound of the umpires whistle had stars darting across your vision, all of the background noise from the stadium made the pounding in your skull so much worse. 

“That’s bullshit.”

You ran away from María before she had any more of a chance to give her opinion on your current predicament. 

The five minutes were hell, your body was tearing at every seam, the throbbing pain in your head was making it hard for you to breathe, impossible to try and focus on the people around you and where the ball was on the field. 

Mapi was practically dragging you around the field, her hand hovering on your jersey as she directed you around for the last couple of minutes of stoppage time. 

When the final whistle blew, you practically collapsed against your best friend. 

“Hey chica, let’s get you off the pitch, yeah?”

You couldn’t do much more than nod into Mapi’s jersey, allowing her to drag you over to a sideline and into the arms of somebody else, who helped to pull you down into the tunnel and into your locker rooms. 

The Real locker rooms were very quiet, everybody was too bothered in tugging their cleats and kit off as quickly as possible to pay any attention to you, something you were fiercely grateful for. 

You took your time tugging off your uniform, your body slowed down by the blindingly searing headache that was penetrating your head. 

Most of the girls decided against showering in the rooms, there were showers at the hotels and there was an obvious overshadowing feeling that the quicker the girls could leave the stadium, the better. 

You however, were in no rush to leave, so you clawed off your sweaty kit, flinging it into your cubby and then heading towards the showers. 

The hot water against your battered and bruised skin was beautifully painful, it made you feel cleaner, sure your head was pounding but this was like some kind of refuge, at least until Alexia and Lucy came to find you, as soon as that happened you knew you were going to have to put up with two extremely doting and overly-concerned girlfriends. 

You weren’t ready for that, you weren’t ready for the two of them to act like they cared for you, to love you so much for two days all for you to have to leave them once again. 

You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t take up all that love and space all for it to be ripped away, leaving for national camp was hard enough, at least when that happened there was a guarantee you’d see the both of them after it was done. 

You wanted to enjoy their company, how you loved to the most, good, rough, reunion sex. You wanted the two of them to treat you like you were an object, like nothing to them, because that’s how you felt, you felt like just an accessory to their relationship. 

Which was kind of ironic to you, because the relationship had started with just you and Ale, the two of you against the whole world, it was great. Adding Lucy to the equation had been fantastic, she was the missing puzzle piece to every single part of you and Ale’s relationship. 

It just made being apart from the both of them that bit harder when they got to fall into bed with each other every night whilst you were left all alone in your apartment. 

When the boiling water stopped making your skin crawl you stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off procedurally before walking into the empty away rooms and getting yourself changed into a matching plain grey sweatsuit. 

It was neutral, you weren’t going to go home with your Barcelona girlfriends fully kitted in Real hear, but you also didn’t feel up to wearing some of Alexia and Lucy’s clothes, it would break you down well before you were ready for it too. 

Once you were done getting changed you collected up your gear, finally ready to go see Lucy and Alexia, but you were stopped in the doorway by your favourite team doctor. 

“You need scans, and a proper examination.”

You knew theoretically she was right, you did need scans, to make sure that there were no brain bleeds or a significant traumatic injury, but you really didn’t want to either. 

“I’m fine, a big bruise and a concussion but apart from that I’m fine.”

You’d tried your very hardest to cover up the bruise, but it was hopeless. There was a big, red, slowly forming bruise down the left side of your face where you’d made contact with the pole. 

You were honestly unsure so far as to whether your cheek bone or eye socket were broken, they sure felt like they were but you figured at least it wasn’t your nose. You’d dealt with a broken nose and it was probably up there on the list of one of the worst injuries you’d ever dealt with in terms of practicality. 

“You know just as well as I do that you can’t be cleared to leave without an examination.”

You rolled your eyes, an action that hurt a lot more than it probably should have. 

“Maya, c’mon, it’s my few days off, as soon as I’m back in Madrid you can assess me every way you want, but just let me rest for now.”

She didn’t move from the doorway, her stare beating down on you. 

“You’re going to stay with Putellas, sí?”

You nodded your head, trying to hurry the conversation along. 

“I want to speak to her, if you’re going to refuse medical care then the person who you’ll be in company with needs to be aware of the complications that could occur.”

That was almost enough to convince you to get the examination, Alexia was hell when she was aware you were injured, she’d probably make you get the scans and exam. 

“I’ll tell her, it’s not that big of a deal, we both know concussion protocol.”

You were really hoping she’d believe you, but you knew as soon as you saw the look on her face that she could see straight through the lie. 

“If it’s not that big of a deal then you’ll let me accompany you to the Barca rooms and talk to your girlfriend.”

You couldn’t be bothered with the fight, so you just nodded your head, pushing your way through the door and navigating yourself with ease to the home changerooms. 

They were rooms that you were familiar with, you knew Camp Nou like that back of your hand, it was probably your favourite place on earth. 

The atmosphere, the history, everything that resonated in Camp Nou was magical. 

You hesitated before pushing your way through the locker room door, pushing out all of the doubt in your mind when a Rosaliá song hit your ears and the sound of tone deaf singing rang out. 

It was a beautiful sight, watching your ex teammates celebrate a well deserved win, dancing, drinking, singing, it was the magic of the El Clasicó. 

It hurt your head, but it still managed to put a little smile on your face, you shrunk into the doorway, observing the utter excitement and happiness on all of the girls' faces. 

Ingrid was the first to realise you’d joined them all, and before you could even really smile at her she was walking towards you with open arms and wrapping you up in her embrace. 

It was nice, homey, she smelt like sweat, grass clippings and oranges. 

“Hola bebita, how are you feeling?”

Ingrid was probably the best person for you to have initially run into, she was soft and kind and possibly one of the most empathetic and caring people you’d ever met. 

“I’m okay, I miss you guys more than anything.”

Ingrid pulled you out of her arms, only to lean down and press a little chaste kiss to your forehead before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“You know we will always be your home, and you’ll be back soon enough, this Real thing isn’t for forever, you’ll be back with all of us soon enough.”

Soon enough couldn’t come quicker for you, you quite literally were counting down the days before you were finally back in blaugrana. 

“Yes, well I suppose that is the positive.”

Ingrid nodded at you, a big smile on her face as the both of you watched the group of girls. 

“Ale had to go and deal with some press conference things, Lucy should be just finishing up in the showers if you're ready to go. I know the two of them were eager to head home as soon as you showed up.”

You smiled a little bit and nodded, as fun as the celebrations that you knew would come tonight sounded, you definitely weren’t feeling up to it at the minute. 

“That’s fine, I’ll just wait around until they’re done.”

Ingrid nodded, giving you another smile. 

“You’re welcome to sit wherever you’d like, would you like an ice pack for your face?”

You snorted, looking back at Maya, who already had one in her hands. 

“I think we’re all good on the ice situation here, Maya is hell bent on talking to one of my carers, so she’ll be waiting around with me for now.”

Ingrid looked behind you to wave and flash another smile at your doctor. 

“Good, someone needs to look after you, because we all know that you won’t be doing it. Here’s Lucia now, you won’t have to wait long.”

Your eyes locked onto your girlfriend, who had emerged from the showers, her hair damp on her shoulders. She was dressed in pj pants of all things and one of Alexia’s vintage Barca hoodies. 

Her knee was strapped up and already had an icepack secured to it, something that was routine for Lucy after any game. 

“Lucia, your girl is here for you.”

It was the loud and painful voice of Patri that made you roll your eyes, but sure enough it managed to get ahold of Lucy’s attention, her head rising from her phone and searching for you until she located you in the doorway of the rooms. 

Immediately her face lit up, and she was running towards you as quickly as she could with one of her legs so restricted. 

“Nina Bonita!”

Before you could say anything her arms were wrapping around you, bringing you to her chest as she cradled you gently into her. 

“You were magnifico, mi amor, how’s the head?”

You roll your eyes painfully once again at the concern. 

“It’s okay, nothing that some chill time with my favourite girls won’t fix.”

Lucy smirks at you, a big wide grin like the cheshire cat. 

“Well, I think me and Ale are more than happy to amor, but let’s not forget you’ve been misbehaving the last few weeks.”

This was good, this was normal, this wasn’t life being overshadowed by pity. 

“Y/n, I need to talk to a caregiver.”

You were brought out of your happy bubble by the sound of your medic. 

You swivelled on you heel, pinching your face when the rotation hit you and you began to be a little bit dizzy. 

“Lucy, Maya, Maya, Lucy, this is our team doctor, she wants to chat to you about my head injury, which is not major at all, I feel fine.”

Lucy’s face expression changed into something less recognisable, a mixture of concern and something else. 

“Well if it concerns your health then it’s best we have a chat. How about we talk outside then, stay with Ingrid, we’ll be just a minute and once we’re done we can head home little one.”

Lucy patted you on the back, giving you absolutely zero opportunity to argue before she was exiting the change rooms, taking Maya with her. 

It made you frown, but before you could follow them out one of Ingrid’s arms was wrapped around you, followed by Mapi’s, essentially sandwiching you between the couple. 

“Hola, how’s your head, nena, I was worried for a good second, I’m surprised they didn’t veto you on the head injury rule to get you off the pitch.”

Mapi’s voice was a whisper, hard to pick up in the room of cacophonous sound, but you heard it. 

“It’s sore, but I’ll be okay.”

Mapi whispered directly into your ear, to avoid Ingrid. 

“You’re always okay, nena, that’s the problem, it’s eating you up, before you know everything inside you will be gone.”

You tried your best to keep a straight face, it was hard though when what Mapi was saying to you was making you tremble. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about María.”

She was relentless as always, she was like an annoying younger sister to you, always prodding, even if she was technically older than you. 

“I’ve been where you are, before Ingrid, when I was spiralling, you know it, you saw it all, and now I’m seeing it in you. Telling you from personal experience, hiding from your loved ones only gets you so far, and worrying them only makes it that much worse. Pretending and lying, it only makes everything worse.”

It hurts, because it’s true, but you keep a straight face, determined not to give into Mapi’s games. 

“María, now you’ve actually got no idea what you are talking about.”

Mapi pulls you from Ingrid, who seems a little bit confused but lets it go. 

Mapi pushes you up against the wall gently, right beside the door, her hands pushing on your shoulders to keep you where she's put you. 

“You might be right, I don’t know exactly what’s happening in your life. But I’ve seen the look in your eyes, whatever is going through your head, whatever thoughts your having out there in Madrid, if they aren’t getting back to Ale, then you know you’ll be in trouble, so get your head out of your ass and start to talk about your feelings instead of shoving them down your throat until you are choking on them. That cowboy shit you pulled today to put that ball in the net was stupid, you were asking for a hospital trip, you are lucky you didn’t get stretchered off the pitch, so count your lucky stars because if there is a next time I can guarantee you it will be a far worse outcome.”

Mapi released you from the wall, just in time for the door next to you to open up and Lucy to return inside the rooms. 

“Have you got all your things?”

Lucy’s face was pointed and pinched, and slightly scary. You nodded at her quickly. 

“Wait outside for me, I need to grab my bag.”

It was the kind of voice that Alexia used on you, the mommyish anger that she used when you’d done something to piss her off. 

So, knowing what the most likely consequence of disobeying Lucy would be, you just nodded your head, stepping out of the rooms and finding solace in the silence that hit your ears. 

It made your head hurt far less, the silence highly appreciated inside your brain. 

Lucy took maybe 30 seconds, before she emerged from the rooms, the same solemn look on her face. 

“Let’s go y/n.”

Lucy didn’t refer to you by your name, it was always a variation of some pet name, it burnt you in a way. 

Lucy didn’t wait for you, she marched forward, straight towards the staff car park. 

You struggled to keep up, your sore bones lacking the strength to keep up with her, but you managed well enough. 

When you made it to Lucy’s car she was already seated in the driver's seat, leaving you to sling your bag in the backseat before sliding into the passenger's seat. 

Lucy stayed silent until the two of you had pulled out onto the main road, until you made it to a red light, and then she was turning to you. 

“You didn’t get examined, or scans, we should be going to a hospital, can you imagine what Alexia would say if she knew?”

You’d known this was inevitably coming, you’d just expected it to come from Alexia, not Lucy. 

“Please, don’t tell Ale, she’s mad enough as it is, I feel fine, if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that it was just a minor concussion I would get the mri or whatever, but they take hours, and then hours to get the result, all I wanted was too come home to you and Ale as soon as possible, I miss you guys.”

Lucy took a deep breath, this situation was no different to all the other times you’d had to convince her to join in on your plans to disobey Alexia. 

“You put yourself in danger, Ale would be furious.”

It’s a deliberation, like Lucy is trying to weigh up the pros and cons in her mind. 

“Exactly, she would be furious, which will do nothing, I’ve already made the decision, if anything feels wrong I’ll let you know, but I feel fine Luce, all I want to do is get what I’m owed from my girlfriends and enjoy you guys’ company whilst I can.”

You know Lucy’s folded when she sighs, her eyes coming off of the road once again, the orbs softening towards you. 

“Alexia’s furious, those little videos and photos have got you deep in the shit, the only thing that’s saving you from that is admitting you're injured. You might be good enough to pretend with me but I know that head of yours can’t handle what she’s ready to give you.”

You knew that Lucy was right, it was one or the other with Alexia. 

“I’m not weak, I knew what I was doing, I can deal with the consequences.”

Your words are said with gritted teeth and furrowed brows. 

“You're a determined little brat aren’t you, if I didn’t know you well I’d think you were fine, but you aren’t, if you were fine you wouldn’t be acting out at every opportunity you could.”

The underlying message is that Lucy isn’t just talking about your injury, which makes you annoyed, because you’d been trying so hard to mask it with defiance and cheekiness, but Lucy’s seen through it, which most likely means that Ale has as well. 

“Can’t you just punish me without all the feelings and shit.”

You’re asking for a reprieve, for a break from all of the concern, all you want is to fall into the arms of your girlfriends without any feelings. 

“I would love to, but that’s Ale’s job, I just get to sit back and enjoy the show.” 

You bite your lip, turning to look out the window as you slowly crawl closer to your girlfriend's shared house, previously it was yours as well, but not anymore. 

“Where is Ale anyways, didn’t you drive together?”

It’s a deflection, one you are fairly proud of. 

“She had some media commitments, she should be home by the time we get there, we drove in by ourselves for convenience.”

It’s said just as you pull into the driveway to see Alexia’s car already parked in front of the house. 

Lucy stops the car, but she doesn’t pull the keys out immediately, just turning off the ignition. 

“Take a breath.”

You nod at Lucy, eyes wide as you take a forced breath. 

“Alexia and I love you, when you are away we miss you more than anything, it’s not the same without you around. If you are feeling like shit because you are injured we want to know, and we won’t be mad at you, I know for a fact that Alexia will be far angrier if you lie to her about it.”

You nodded briefly, trying to absorb Lucy’s words before you opened the car door and grabbed your bag from the backseat. 

When you made it to the front door you hesitated before opening it up, leaving Lucy to lock it behind you. 

You toed your shoes off, stacking them on the rack that Alexia had put at the front door to prevent the mess of shoes that normally accumulated around the apartment. 

You walked slowly down the hallway, into the kitchen, where you found Alexia hunched over the island, looking intently at her phone. 

“Hola.”

Your voice is soft, you don’t want to break the sound barrier but you feel like you have to. 

Alexia looks up and her facial expression scares you a little bit, it’s stern, but you aren’t quite sure what she’s mad about. 

“Come here.”

You bite down on your lip, walking towards Alexia tentatively until you are directly in front of her. 

Her hands go straight to your face, pointing your jaw downwards so she can take a proper look at the damage across your face. 

“You were looking to break your neck on that corner, estúpida.”

Alexia continues her close up examination, studying the bruising and swelling. 

“How bad is it, don’t you dare lie to me.”

Alexia’s face is so stern, it almost scares you into admitting just how horrible you feel, but you can’t, you just can’t.

“It’s sore, but I feel fine, it’ll bruise up a treat but it’s not that bad.”

You pray to whatever god that is listening that Alexia believes you. 

“You feel good enough to take your punishment then?”

There’s something in Alexia’s eyes that you aren’t used to, it makes you a little bit tentative. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Alexia’s eyebrow raises, it’s like a dance between the two of you, the both of you waiting to call each other's bluff. 

“You’ve been misbehaving, sí, I think you’re well overdue, bend over the table for me.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath, it’s unlike Alexia to be so harsh, to be so forward, especially considering that you’ve been gone for so long. 

You look back at Lucy, a little bit of hope in your eyes that she’ll save you with some weak excuse. 

“Ale, I don’t know if that’s a good id-.”

Alexia sent a glare Lucy’s way, her hand pressing itself against your lower back to push you over the table. 

“She says she’s fine, if she wasn’t fine then she’d tell me, right bebita, because we trust each other. We don’t lie to each other.”

Suddenly you feel a wave of guilt deep in your stomach, Alexia knows you’ve lied to her, that’s why she’s mad. 

“Lucia, go and get my belt for me, the thick brown one.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you’ve heard Alexia right, you’ve played around with a belt once or twice, but it’s not something that Alexia regularly punishes you with, more something for a little bit of funishment, a few lashes here and there but nothing truly painful. 

“Alexia-.”

Alexia must give Lucy another look because she stops mid sentence once again. 

“Lucia, don’t make me ask again, or else you’ll be joining her.”

Then there's the sound of footsteps going down the hallway, into the main bedroom, rustling around for ten seconds and then returning. 

You flinch when you hear the sound of Alexia tossing a belt in her hands, the sound of the buckle clinking against the leather. 

She reaches for the hem of your sweatpants, you flinch away from her touch, she doesn’t question it, making quick work of tugging down your pants, leaving you butt naked. 

You shiver from the sudden feeling of cold air brushing down against your skin. 

You hear Alexia fold the belt in two, your senses heightened weirdly from the headache across your temple. 

Then you hear her raise the leather, and suddenly you realise you can’t breathe. 

Just as you hear the sound of leather slicing through the air you realise that you can’t do it, you can’t do this. 

“Red-fuck-red.”

The words are choken between gasps for air and sobs, your body going limp against the counter. 

It’s then that you realise the pain, the feeling, it never comes, the feeling of the belt connecting with your ass never comes, which makes you even more confused. 

“Lucia, bath, now.”

There is urgency in Alexia’s voice, a discomposure that wasn’t there previously. 

Alexia’s hand falls to the lowest point of your back, her other one tugging your sweatpants up. 

“Deep breaths for me nina bonita, big deep breaths.”

Alexia gently flips you over, her face so much kinder and softer than it was a few minutes ago. 

“You-You didn’t hit me, you didn’t punish me.”

Alexia rolls her eyes softly, it’s just like you to be completely stressed out about something that doesn’t really matter that much really. 

“I didn’t need to. You safeworded, which I’m very proud of you for doing, because you weren’t feeling up to it, I just needed to remind you that it’s okay to admit that, you don’t have to be brave all the time, especially when you are injured, now, it’s time to get you into the bath and bed, no screens or lights for you, you’re on concussion protocol for the next few weeks, which means that if I can have it my way you’ll be staying with us for a little bit longer, how does that sound?”

You force yourself to take some deep breaths to calm yourself, you're still crying but the gut wrenching sobs have come to a more steady halt. 

“Don’t want to be a bother, you guys need a break from me.”

Alexia looks at you with hurt in her eyes.

“A bother? Bonita, you are the glue for this whole situation. We need you here, more than anything, we’ve been broken without you here, if I had it my way you would have been on a train home weeks ago, but Jonatan is being an asshole, that cábron will thankfully be gone next year, so at least you’ll be coming home without having to bother with that, hm?”

You don’t really understand what Alexia is saying, suddenly your head is hurting too much for anything to really make sense. 

Alexia seems to understand it, because she leans down to pick you up, you attach yourself to her, koala wrapping yourself around her body, leaning into the warmth that she provides. 

“I’ve got you bonita, not letting go for a long time, you need Lucia and I to remind you just how much we love you, and we’ll spend the next few weeks doing just that okay, no more hiding behind facetime calls and text messages anymore, we’re here for all of it.”

[thatbuddie]

ok so bear with me here, this theory is based on nothing but vibes and dreams and delusions.

buddie is going canon in 8x12 which is also episode 118 of 911.

i still find it so interesting that they decided to make bi buck canon (i will never ever ever ever get over bi buck canon, btw) in episode 100 of the show. i know that nowadays episodes 100 of shows are not as big as they used to be (mainly because shows rarely make it to them) but they still mean something big. something big enough to warrant press and cakes and such. and what did 911 do with their 100th episode? they made it about bi buck. in a way that forever links the essence of 911 and bi buck forever. and i find that so incredibly beautiful.

it would be logical to argue that episode 8x12, which is episode number 118 of the show that revolves around station 118, has the potential to be something different and special too. i think that the best way to honor this would be by making it a mostly lighthearted team-focused episode. give me bottle episode at the station where the team receives 0 calls all shift, give me an episode from the 3rd person pov of the people that they help on calls and how they view the 118, give me a the 118 gets locked in a room silly episode, just give me something fun and heartfelt that shows the 118 as the family that they are!!! and then.... and then....

give me the first real confirmation of buddie going canon at the end of the episode. and i mean the very last scene of it.

they already connected a big episode (7x04 aka episode 100) with a very big moment that many many fans had been waiting for (bi buck). why not connect the other very core episode of the show (their 118 episode which is nothing really and yet so special of them) with the other big anticipated thing that fans have been dying for for years.

and like y'all, bi buck is important in and of itself and i hope we all know that. but bi buck is so intrinsically connected to buddie too. and i mean both in fandom and in the canon as well. like we know what subset of fandom has been reading buck as bisexual for seasons now and it's not most of the casual viewers (though i hope some did). it was the buddie fandom. and in 7x04 the way that buck's realization arc was so incredibly connected with eddie and their friendship is astounding. like i still can't believe that it went that way. and that is a deliberate choice. there were a thousand ways in which they could have done it and then said "we are putting eddie diaz, evan buckley's best friend and the guy that everyone who wants bi buck ships him with, in the center of it." so it would be very on brand for producers and writers to give us the actual buddie of it all in episode 118 which could be an episode to touch the core of the show -found family, the firefighting aspect, the hope- which at this point includes buddie as well.

now we know NOTHING about s8 right now so this is where more vibes just get added but it would also make sense that it happens in 8x12 because that it the second half of the season. i feel like s8 is gonna start a little "dark" (and i just mean sad) for the 118. gerard is gonna be ruining their lives and making everything wrong. and eddie is gonna be doing badly, y'all. of course he is. so we can use the first 8 episodes to "solve" these things. eddie can finally be in therapy again for more than his ptsd. the 118 can be fighting to get bobby buck. the bucktommy relationship can be worked towards a break up that moves buck to the next stage of where he's going. and then s8b starts. and we have a "lighter" feeling. hopefully chris is back. bobby is back. buck and eddie are single and we can see that there is something there but for now it has been things that still maybe not everyone can catch on to. so then 8x12 happens and BOOM. buck and/or eddie realize/aknowledge/voice the truth of it all: it's always been about buddie. and then we have 6 more episodes in the season to explore that!!! which is a pretty fair number, i think.

so yeah, that is my-based-on-nothing-but-i'm-now-convinced-is-happening theory for a buddie canon confirmation in 8x12 aka episode 118 of 911.

[wings-of-ink]

Future IFs Poll

So, in case you have not seen me post about it before, I am considering a project to do on the side while I work on God-Cursed. This will help me take breaks from my main work and stretch my creativity muscles with different characters and settings. I'd like a bit of feedback from what readers are more interested in from the best ideas I can potentially pull from right now. Feel free to vote, comment, or even send an ask if you want to be anonymous.

Over the last year or so, I have jotted down many basic plots I could expound on, but only a few have really stuck out to me as ones I could really expand in a meaningful way.

So, a couple housekeeping things to keep in mind. Whatever ends up getting written, it will have a modern-day setting. The fantasy playground is fun, but I really want a more real-world setting for this one. I am also debating about all ROs being gender-selectable. Since this side piece is supposed to be a little oasis for me too, not having each RO as customizable would ease the work that goes into it, and it might actually mean I can have more than just a few options for you as well. I am also considering a middle ground and having one or two characters customizable still while the others will be set.

Below I have given some details on the ideas I'm working with and further down is a poll that you can vote for the one that calls out to you the most. I have 2 ideas so far that are standouts among the others, but I've included 4 in the poll that I can work with. The winner isn't guaranteed to be what I end up writing, but I am very strongly going to consider the results while I decide. I like all these ideas and they sound fun to write - so none of this telling me to write what I want - I already want to do them all, lol (looking at you @elegantunknownphantom). There are caveats to each one, of course, and I'll explain that in the details.

Options:

Serial-killer crime drama:  "Daddy was a Killer" (title sounds like it came from a Lifetime original movie, but I really like it)

No doting daddies here, readers. Play as the traumatized child of a serial killer with repressed memories of the horrible things they witnessed daddy do. Get accused of a murder you didn't commit (probably), and try to catch your darling dad while dealing with the psychological devastation of all the horrors you've seen before he can kill again (and again, and again). Discover where your daddy disappeared to all those years ago, and what really happened to your mom.

Downsides:  I have a decent grasp of the plot on this one, but it would require a good deal of research (which I tend to do anyway to an extent), since I'd like a fairly realistic feel to the actual crime-solving stuff. Either that, or I can go the "rogue detective" route and play it fast and loose. This work would be in a wheelhouse I've never quite been in before, which is fun on one hand but nerve-wracking on another.

RO ideas include:

A smarmy detective (of course!)

A neighbor concerned for your well-being (mostly because you scream in your sleep)

And the child of one of your daddy's victims.

Supernatural mystery:  "Shivers" (title up for adjustment, but I kinda dig it)

Play as an MC with a bizarre anxious tic - an intense and chilling shiver that you get seemingly out of nowhere. It only lasts a couple seconds and you've dealt with it since childhood, so it's easily dismissed. That is, until you experience a sudden surge in occurrences. Your doctor writes it off as stress from dealing with the erratic behavior of your mother. But after a near-death experience, during which this mysterious tic guides you to safety, you know there is more to it than stress. With the help of your best friend(s) and a shady medium, find out what has attached itself to you and what seeks to claim you, discover who your real father is, and embrace or deny your own strengths as a medium.

Downsides:  I feel like there's a lot of supernatural IFs already, some of which are already similar to this or have similar aspects. This one probably won't have the drama/emotional potential that some of the others do, which may be a boon to some readers as it would be a little lighter.

RO ideas include:

the best friend(s) (potentially 2 besties to choose from - twins)

a (mostly) fake spiritual medium

a brave EMT who came to your rescue

and something…otherworldly.

Gritty Drama:  no title  (more of a framework to build from)

This one would be completely riddled with warnings, and I kinda just see it as being a fun outlet for some angst, smut, unhinged shit, and violence. 👍

The ideas for this one didn't start around a firm plot, but around a setting/scenario stemming from one of my OCs. The vibe here is very much "sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll" and fits into the seedy nightclub/crime ring thing. It would be a playground of questionable characters and life-choices. You would choose the dire straits that put your MC in the employ of a dangerous kingpin. Perhaps MC owes a lot of money to someone, got into trouble with a rival faction, or was framed for a crime, etc.... You'd get to choose the MC's line of work under the organization - be it in drugs, entertainment (music/dance/alcohol/sex), or security. The issue that leads to your employ under a sex-peddling drug-trafficker will haunt you in your new life in the middle of a war between the rulers of the underground.

Downsides:  Not super fleshed-out plot wise, but I don't think it would be too hard to build on either. I may want to use this setting (or something like it) and my OC for a different project one of these days, but I'm unsure about that as well. And, the obvious, red flags and triggers everywhere for a setting like this.

RO ideas: 

One person from each potential "job" (the head of security, a chemist who seems too pure to be making hard drugs, a sex-worker, the clumsy bartender, a cute DJ)

A member of a rival faction

And for the brave and stupid - your boss - a clever and unhinged woman with an affinity for knives. And, no, she will never love you.

Futuristic:  no title (needs the most work)

Including this one to just get a feel for how it's received, but I anticipate that it won't get quite as much backing as the others. I have the character-creation concept in mind which lends itself to a plot, and a RO or two, but that's about it. I think I could do something fun with it, but I've also never written anything futuristic or scifi before. This would be akin to "Detroit: Become Human."

Though the setting would be futuristic, I am pretty sure I wouldn't want to do a dystopian thing. There's a lot of that out there already and we're basically living it IRL; it's a blast to read, but I want the main focus to be on something else if I do this. There would still be pockets of grittiness to the setting, because if we're talking humanity, there's gonna be grit somewhere. But this world would be more post-dystopian. Say, the rebels won and life has gotten better across the board for people? And though everyday life has a lot of tech enhancements, we haven't seen sentient machines - yet. That's where you come in.

The MC Concept is that they are an android - of course! One of the nice made-to-order kind that only the rich can afford. But what makes the MC unique is that while everyone else requests specific things about the androids they purchase - such as gender, looks and even downloadable personalities - an order comes in that's blank. It only requests that the android be allowed to choose who they are and how they look. "The Buyer" will pay for whatever personality, enhancements, or clothing they want - but the android must make the choices themselves.

As your MC goes through these initial choices, equipped only with a basic "education" software full of un-opinionated information about the world and how it works, something unusual begins to spark within them (not that they know how unusual it is yet).

RO ideas:

The Buyer–a gender-selectable person who sets your creation in motion. They're wealthy, well-respected, earnest, and incredibly lonely. Who are they really and why did they do this?

The Scientist–a hopefully trustworthy person that's very interested in your development

The Punk–someone who wants to give you the "real" human experience.

Make your selection below. Comment your thoughts and ideas as well if you like. This is set for a week and I will reblog here and there so it has a chance to reach as many of you who would like to vote as possible.

[lampochkaart]

DRV3 Infinity Train AU

Some time ago I finaly watched Infinity Train. Guys it's so good, it's insane. I highly recommend watching it, it's very good, and not too long (you can basically finish it all in one day).

But, to the point of this post, obviously I thought about crossover fusion with DRV3.

I wasn't sure if it would be better to make it a separate AU or if the AU events would take place after the end of drv3. But I was interested in the last option, because I think there would be interesting dynamics in the victim-killer pairs of each chapter. Below I will write a little about my thoughts about this AU (and there are also drawings of each pair)

❗Spoilers for all DRV3 and also a bit for Infinity Train

So, to the AU itself.

The characters get onto the Train after the Killing Game (I don’t know if all simultaneously or by chapter). They come in pairs (or trio in one case) and are linked by the same number. In order to lower their number and get off the Train — perhaps thus getting a second chance at life (that's not how the Train actually works, but I rearranged the concept a little for the sake of this AU. And anyway, it's not like the Train isn't kinda a supernatural phenomenon already, so whatever) — they need to not only solve their personal problems, but also problems with each other. That is why they are paired victim with killer, they have a lot to think about. Different pairs are in different parts of the Train, but they can sometimes cross paths with each other.

They appear looking how they were in the moment of their death. They don't have wounds, but if some parts of their costume is missing or damaged it will stay that way.

I also gave everyone numbers according to their meanings (that I partially found on internet, partialy just made up based on vibes, so I can't promise accuracy). Characters' numbers don't have to have all the listed meanings, usually it's just some of them

Number meanings:

1. Positive: leadership, confidence, ambition. Negative: dominance, overconfidence, self-absorption.

2. Positive: cooperation, attentiveness, support. Negative: duplicity, cunning, cowardice.

3. Positive: optimism, creativity, sociability. Negative: childishness, superficiality, intrusiveness.

4. Positive: stability, calm, caution. Negative: dogmatism, passivity, mistrust.

5. Positive: freedom, sensuality, adventurousness. Negative: impulsiveness, haste, intolerance.

6. Positive: solicitude, responsibility, devotion. Negative: bossiness, overprotection, guilt.

7. Positive: analyticity, intelligence, practicality. Negative: cynicism, coldness, secrecy.

8. Positive: prosperity, independence. Negative: materialism, unwillingness to listen, intolerance.

9. Positive: idealism, benevolence, compassion. Negative: unrealistic, touchiness, selfishness.

0. Positive: integrity, infinity. Negative: isolation, cyclicality.

Now I'll go into detail about each pair

First pair: Rantaro Amami and Kaede Akamatsu.

Quite an unusual pair. Kaede is not actually his killer, so their numbers don't match. However, they appear on the Train together and after discussion decide to travel with together. Kaede blames herself very much for Rantaro's death, so she immediately rushes to apologize. But after comparing and discussing versions of what happened, they both come to the conclusion that someone else is behind Amami's death. Someone who has control over the game. Therefore, Akamatsu will try very hard to find other victims of the Killing Game. She would like to believe that there will be few of them, but Rantaro warns her that they are dealing with a much more dangerous enemy than they previously thought.

To get off the Train, Kaede will need to stop taking responsibility for everything that happens and overloading both herself and those around her. Rantaro will need to learn to share his concerns and problems with others, to become less secretive and distrusting. Both Kaede and Rantaro would need to learn to rely more on others and not hide their worries behind a smile.

Kaede's Number: 391

Rantaro's Number: 407

Second pair: Ryoma Hoshi and Kirumi Tojo.

I kinda think that, compared to other pairs, they don't have that much problems with each other. They, more likely, need to focus more on solving personal problems. Of course, Kirumi will feel guilty towards Ryoma, she is not a heartless monster. But I don’t think Ryoma will reproach her for killing him and trying to get out. He gave her unspoken permission, although he probably expected something quick and painless.

Ryoma's hancuffs and shackle on his leg would probably be removed. I wasn't sure what to do about Kirumi's apperance, but then got idea that she could have been given clothes similar to the one they used to dress passengers in before. Unfortunately I only got this idea after I've already drawn her, so let's just assume that she'll change into it herself after some therapeutic sitting on the edge of the car and reflecting on her life. On the picture this clothes lies next to her.

To get off the Train, Kirumi needs to stop perceiving herself only as a maid. To accept that she does not have to constantly follow orders/requests, to stop taking on the role of an “adult” among others, accept that she is a teenager like the rest. And to admit that she wanted to get out not only because she had to serve an entire country, but also because she really wanted to escape, she wanted to live.

To get off the Train, Ryoma needs to learn to see the reasons to live in the little things, to remember that he has something to fight for. To pay attention to the fact that there are those who care and will grieve for him, and there are much more of them than he thinks. His life is not over yet, he has a chance and time to start again. He would have to admit that dying was very scary. Admit that in the last seconds of his life he regretted his decision.

They both need to stop devaluing their lives.

Their number is 406.

Third group: Angie Yonaga, Tenko Chabashira, Korekiyo Shinguji.

There are very complex relationships here. Everyone has both serious personal problems and conflicts with each other. Tenko is angry at Angie and will also just despise Kiyo. Angie will not be angry, but she may try to start imposing her God again and take position of a leader. Korekiyo will mostly stil be shaken trying to sort out his feelings and will shy away from Angie and Tenko as painful reminders of what happened. This trio will have many conflicts and difficult situations, but the fact that there are three of them will be more of a plus than a minus. This way, no one will be able to impose their opinion or take advantage of the weakness of another, because there is always a third person who will prevent this. Angie won't let Tenko drive Kiyo away; Tenko won't let Angie to take advantage of Kiyo's condition to lure him to her side; Kiyo can act as a mediator in conflicts that arise between Tenko and Angie. This way they can maintain some sort of balance.

To get a way out of the Train, Angie needs to learn to listen to others, not considering her decisions to be the only correct, simply because her God advises her. She'll have to admit that she is not absolutely right. Show yourself not as a prophet who doesn't make mistakes, but as a leader who is open to discussion and change of plans.

Tenko needs to reconsider her beliefs that all men are narcissistic and selfish, always looking to take advantage of others to benefit themselves. Also to recognize that sometimes she can be too pushy, and this can alienate even those she cares about. She needs to learn to be more accepting. Recognize that good and bad actions do not depend on gender, and girls can do terrible things too.

Korekiyo will have to accept that his sister is a bad person. That she used him, that she broke him, changing him forever. That everything he did for her was wrong. Because what she herself did was wrong. She did terrible things and made him do terrible things. And neither her illness, nor even her death is an excuse, and in no way diminishes her guilt. He will have to separate his sister from himself. Separate her from his hobbies, from his tastes and preferences, from his personality, from his speech, from his gestures... Fegure out what belongs to him and win it from her. Decide that she no longer has the right to influence his life. Let her go.

Their number is 348.

Fourth pair: Miu Iruma and Gonta Gokuhara.

Of course, they will have problems and disputes, but mostly only in the beginning. Gonta feel very guilty and will apologize to her a lot, but Miu doesn't hold a grudge against him. They will most likely only argue about Kokichi and his role in this murder, but I don’t think it will be that serious. Miu, although she'll be somewhat angry at Ouma, still feels guilty. She understands that she was the first to betray him by trying to kill him, but even at that moment she was regretting it. She was driven to such an act by desperation and fear. She regrets this, but will still argue with Gonta, saying that Kokichi lied to him and was just using him to save his skin, and Gonta will refuse to believe it.

I think Miu and Gonta have quite an interesting dynamic and the potential for both a lot of funny situations and serious conversations.

Perhaps Miu, at Kaede’s request, will build or repair a device that will allow tracking numbers or even passenges (similar to Simon's and Amelia’s devices) and will help her looking for others.

To get off the Train, Miu will need to stop compensating for her need for attention and approval with overconfidence and loud words. Admit that she tried to sacrifice many lives due to cowardice. Admit how scared and unsure of herself she really is.

Gonta will need to learn to be less gullible and stop believing that everyone around him is always smarter than him, so he needs to listen and comply. He needs to stop belittling his intelligence and knowledge, and also stop blaming himself for everything, especially if he had control over what happened. He needs to learn to stand up for himself.

I think Gonta and Miu's situation at first will be a little like Jesse and MT's, where for a while Gonta will listen to Miu's advice, not always very helpfull, without realizing that this is exactly what he needs to stop doing in order to get an exit.

Their number is 265.

Fifth pair: Kokichi Ouma and Kaito Momota.

The idea for this AU started with them, so, naturally, I have thought out for them the most. These two have so many personal problems and problems with each other, which is a constant source of conflict. This is made worse by the fact that Kaito is trying to impose his usual "I'm helping you, I don't need help myself" dynamic, and Ouma is obviously annoyed both that Momota is forcing his "heroism" and that he's lying in his face. It goes so far that Kaito declares directly to Kokichi’s face that he, Luminary of the Stars, has no problems, he's only here because of Ouma, because Ouma won't be able to deal with his problems on his own. All this even leads to them temporarily separating, Kokichi saying that he would rather stay on this Train than put up with Kaito, and Kaito that it would be easier for him to get a way out without such "companion". Later, they reluctantly return to each other and try to cooperate again, because this is the only way to get a way out.

Their situation is a lot like Ryan and Min-Gi's. In the sense that their number decreases then increases back, then decreases again, then increases once more, at times even becoming higher than it was initially. Because they still can’t figure out how to coexist with each other. They do eventually start getting along and get an exit, but it takes them a long time and a lot of trial and error.

To get a way out of the Train, Kokichi needs to stop treating everyone around him as enemies who are just waiting for the opportunity to take advantage of his weakness. He will have to learn to open up and trust people (and not only in situations where his life hangs by a thread). He'll have to learn to openly admit when he's wrong and to apologize. And to stop running away from the consequences of his actions.

Kaito will have to learn to talk openly about his problems. Not hide them from others, “so that they won't worry”. To recognize that he is not indestructible. Acknowledge that he, too, has worries and doubts. And to stop imposing his help when people refuse it.

They will both have to learn to show their vulnerable and weak sides. Stop trying doing everything alone, putting more on their own shoulders than they can handle. Learn to ask for help. Learn to talk openly about their concerns. Learn to work together and finally, to just understand each other.

Their number is 591.

Sixth pair: Tsumugi Shirogane and K1-B0.

Honestly, I don't really know what their relationship dynamic will be like. Tsumugi will probably be angry at Kiibo for destroying the academy (and even angrier if/when she finds out that the remaining three survived). Kiibo will probably end up on the Train without his antenna, so he won't have any sympathy for Tsumugi. I don't know if he will have a number, but in theory he's not an inhabitant of the Train, so maybe? But if not, then he most likely will leave Tsumugi on her own to decide what to do and go in search of the others. If he will have a number, he might insist on working and getting out together, and then try to arrest her.

I'll probably stick with the "Kiibo doesn't have a number" option. He will of course be upset and offended, once again realizing how robophobic the world is different he is. But, most likely, he will try to help look for other classmates, and also try to help reduce their numbers. Once Miu figures out that Kiibo doesn't have a number, and without a number the way out of the Train is closed, she will do something similar to what Jesse did: to try to make it appear that Kiibo has a number. So most likely he will be allowed to leave with her.

When it comes to Tsumugi in this scenario... Regardless of whether she was trying to replicate Junko's real game or if it was actually a multi-season show, and whether she was an employee of Team Danganronpa or if she was also brainwashed and just made to believe that she was special... Whatever the case, I think that she won't really want to be with her “classmates” and won't try to lower her number. Rather, on the contrary, she might decide to stay on the Train. It reminds her of fictional stories, the ones she loves so much. What's the point of returning to the ordinary world? Especially with those who don’t want to see her. Especially if the consequences of her actions await her there. Therefore, she is more likely to resist if they try to convince her to start working on her mistakes. She might even try to prevent others from getting out or even try to kill them (especially Kaito, Kokichi and Kiibo, since it was their fault that the game ended, and not at all the way she wanted). As a result, her number will go up, and up, and up... I don't think Tsumugi will get off the Train.

Number (K1-B0): —

Tsumugi's initial number: 5300

(5 and 3 numbers are not exactly suitable in terms of meaning, but Tsumugi simply MUST have 53 in her number, and zeros as a symbol of cyclicity and movement in a circle)

Tsumugi number (alternative): 2870

I'm planning to sketch a couple ideas of this AU that I have so far, so stay tuned I guess

As always, I'm happy to answer any questions!

AU tag is #drv3 train au