#or been able to pivot to other things instead

[monster-noises]

Fffffrustrated with myseeeeeelf AGH I'm just really tired of disappointing myself constantly and never being able to get (enough) work done even when I have all the time in the world

and it makes me legitimately so worried that I'll never be able to accomplish anything because I'm running on an engine that can only go for a few seconds before stalling out and refusing to restart. just a broken down shell of a human man stuck in amateur limbo forever and ever

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

[yuurei20]

Twst Speech Patterns: Ace

(This is not a complete compilation of every single verbal tic in the game, as each character’s speech patterns have been personalized in such detail that trying to explain it all would be more confusing than helpful 💦 Just a few pick ups, for the curious!)

Ace uses the word ダサい (dasai) (usually in its coarser pronunciation of ダッセー (dasse—)) possibly more than any other character.

I have never been able to find an English-language word that reflects it very well, but it is basically saying that something is lame, or cheesy, to the point of being worthy of mockery.

When EN chooses to include it in his dialogue it is typically localized as “lame” or “pathetic.”

"Dasai" has come up in pivotal moments, even being the catalyst that convinces Ace and Deuce to cooperate in the prologue when Grim repeats it back to them 📝

It also comes during important moments of Book 1, and again in Book 7 👀

(Memo: the "dasasugin" that comes up in climactic moments in Books 1 and 7 is the same "dasai"/"dassee" but with "sugiru" after it, which means close to "too much." Eating too much = eat-sugiru, too dasai = dasasugiru, etc., with Ace's casual pronunciation of "sugin" instead.)

Ace will sometimes says ちょい待ち (choi machi), a casual version of ちょっと待って (chotto matte) which is what you say to ask someone to wait a moment. Ace might be the only character who uses this variation and it is very cute.

Ace will often use a casual form of という (toiu) shortened to つ (tsu), which means different things in different contexts and can be used for emphasis to say “I mean/what I’m saying is,” etc.

Ace isn’t the only one to use it (it also comes up with other characters who use rougher forms of speech such as Leona, Jack and Floyd), but he says it much more often than anyone else.

Ace will sometimes say elongated versions of だから (dakara), which literally means close to "so" or "because." Ace generally uses it to express frustration.

パパっと (papatto) is a word that Ace uses so often that it is called out by the game itself in Lilia’s DUO dialogue: Lilia says it to Ace, who asks if Lilia is imitating him.

It is used to describe doing something quickly/in a hurry/hastily, and Ace says it just all the time.

[possiblylando]

Chainsaw Man 168 Early Analysis

Okay so- I'm going to start with something pretty important translation wise. Viz as usual did not translate things very well.

Keep this in mind because it changes this whole scene's meaning. [Edit Start] Bit of a further correction since the phrasing is further complicated.

Some important updated context that fleshes out Asa's mental state further. [Edit End]

This whole fucking section is sickening not just because this is Denji again being sexually abused and then tossed aside as he has been since chapter 1, but because this is a near exact parallel to Makima and her treatment of Denji. Denji and Asa don't even seem able to process the handjob and instead go to the kiss. Remember Denji's first 'kiss' was from Makima. She framed it as an act of love and then ripped all that away by the end of part 1. Yet again Denji is kissed and his reaction is to want to know if she actually loves him or is just using him like Makima did. I doubt he's specifically thinking about Makima in this scene but you can see how deep the scars have been ingrained in his psyche. Similarly fucked is Asa's reaction to this because she's just as much a victim in all of his as Denji is.

Asa is able to control her body just enough to start beating the shit out of Yoru. It's a pretty fucked parallel to self harm inflicted by victims of sexual assault. Asa obviously has a lot of mental issues and in this moment she's unable to fully process the fact she's also a victim in this situation. She instead pivots to the idea that she's just as much of a perpetrator as Yoru is.

The thousand yard stare kinda has two different meanings in this end bit as well. For Denji its showing his inability to fully process things. We've seen before he goes straight to self harm to get his mind of things but since he can't turn into chainsaw man in this instance he has nothing. So he resorts to his other terrible coping mechanism; He freezes. Whenever something traumatic happens to him he near completely freezes up until someone snaps him out of it. As for Asa it seems to be because she's stuck in her own head spiraling. I doubt she'll be able to recognize the fucked up complexities of the situation anytime soon, so her mental state is just going to continue to get worse.

[cherryswisherz]

GLORIA [verse one]

♱ CONTAINS: kissing and cursing das it

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: okay so like the vision is pazzi reminiscing on memories of their relationship. shoutout anon for the request

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

❝i met her when i was off the porch as a teenager, she said one day i would right my wrongs and see paper❞

“BUECKERS!” Micah yells my name as I approach the benches near the basketball court. 

I’m 15 minutes late but everyone should be used to that by now. By now, being late is my trademark so none of my friends look bothered. In fact, almost everyone is smiling as they dap me up and say hello. 

Everyone except the only person in the group that I hadn’t seen before. Some girl with bug eyes. 

Okay, so they aren’t big eyes. But they are big, brown eyes that look at me like she wants nothing more than my head on the chopping block. 

“Yo, who’s this?” I nod my head towards the girl who’s shooting me the literal death glare. 

“This is Azzi.” Micah slings an arm around Azzi's shoulder and she shrugs him off with a huff. “She’s my cousin. She just moved here.”

“Can she hoop?” I ask. 

“She’s standing right here and she would appreciate it if you didn’t speak about her like she wasn’t.” Azzi snatches the ball from my hands and begins walking to the court. “And I thought the movie was White Men Can’t Jump?”

I have no choice but to laugh at her insinuation. Meeting her on the court, I snatch my ball back. “It’s a good thing I’m a woman then, huh?” I say.

“Oh? You got game white girl?”

“Like you’ve never seen before.” 

“Show me then.”

“Check.” 

And the game began.

❝we started out young, lookin' for some identity, made a thousand mistakes, but never did we lack chemistry❞

“PAIGE!” Azzi’s chasing after me. “Will you just wait for a a fucking second?”

Every fiber of my being is telling me to keep walking and never stop, but we’re in a hotel for state and she’s screaming my name. If someone complains, coach is gonna kill me. 

I stop walking and shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Relax, Bueckers.

I pivot on my foot and stare at the girl in front of me.

If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d tell her how beautiful she is. With her frizzy french braids and her tie-dye t-shirt and her St. Patricks Day socks. But complimenting her would only make this whole situation even more awkward, and if it gets any more awkward I might off myself. 

So, instead of telling Azzi everything I’ve wanted to tell her since I’d met her, I speed walk back to our room grabbing her arm in the process. 

I’ve never been one for serious conversations and Azzi and I’s friendship isn’t necessarily one where we have too many of them. But tonight, I thought I saw something. 

Something in her eyes said, ‘it isn’t just you.’ 

God, I couldn’t have been any more wrong.

Shutting the door, I turn to her and make it a point to never take my eyes off the lamp behind her. 

“I’m sorry.”

She furrows her eyebrows and cocks her head a little to the side. “You’re sorry?” she sounds confused, which is confusing me. 

If she doesn’t want an apology then what the fuck does she want?

“Yes?”

“For what?”

For kissing you. For reading this whole thing wrong. For ruining our friendship and possibly losing us State because there’s no fucking way I’m gonna be able to focus tomorrow.

“For everything.”

All of a sudden, she’s not across the room for me anymore. She’s right in front of me, smacking me hard on the back of my head.

“OW!” I duck my head and slid under her raised arm. “What the fuck, Azzi?”

“You’re so stupid!” She shouts.

“How the fuck am I stupid for apologizing to you?”

We’re both yelling at each other, which to anyone else, may seem like a bad thing. But Azzi and I get our best communication done during our screaming matches. 

Don’t ask me why… It just is what it is.

“Because I don’t want a fucking apology, Paige!”

“Well, the fuck do you want then?”

“YOU!”

Record. Scratch.

“What?” I’m not yelling anymore. I’m actually speaking so low that I almost don’t hear myself. “What did you say?”

“I was trying to tell you, but you kep-”

I cut her off, “Say it again, Azzi.”

She grins like the Cheshire cat, “I want you.”

“What does that mean, though?”

“Holy fuck, you’re actually dumb.” She rolls her eyes, “I like you too, Paige.”

I’ve waited to hear that for almost a year. 

A year of staring when she isn’t looking. A year of moments that I wondered if she held as close to her as I did. A year of wanting her- no, needing her in ways that seem too mature for a 17 year old girl.

A part of me thinks she’s joking. Or she’s just trying to make me feel better…

I think about the kiss we shared 2 minutes ago. Her soft lips on mine, her in my lap on the bed next to me, grinding on my lap, driving me insane. 

I think of her scrambling off me and saying stop and the guilt that has sat on my chest since.

“But-” The sentence dies in my mouth and tears well in my eyes, “But when we kissed-” I point at her “You said stop.”

Azzi’s arms fly up before plopping back to her side, “Because I don’t wanna fuck you the night before the state championship!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Azzi mocks me, “If you would have just waited 30 seconds, I would have told you that.”

Azzi Fudd likes me back. The girl I’ve been feining for, likes me back.

Suddenly, I’m aware of the chance to be a jackass, and of course, I have to take it.

I walk over to her and nudge her shoulder, “You liikkkee meeee.” I sing

She laughs and shoves me away, “Get away from me.”

“You liiikkke meeee and you liked when I kissed yooouuuu”

She crawls back in bed and uses the comforter to hide her smile, “Go to bed, Paige.”

I crawl in bed, on top of her and kiss all over her face, relishing in the fact that Azzi fucking Fudd likes me back.

❝i was in love with you, didn't know what it was with you, kiss you in back of the class just to get a buzz with you❞

“Ms. Bueckers.” Ms. Jackson says. “Put your phone up, before it becomes my phone.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jackson.” I flash her a grin and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t even need to me on my phone anymore anyway. 

Azzi and I’s plan is already set. 

My eyes never leave the clock. Counting the seconds until they become a minute, until eventually a minute begins five. 

My hand shoots in the air. “Can I go see my counselor?”

Ms. Jackson never turns from the board, her back still to the class as she groans before saying, “Get out, Paige.” 

“Love you too, Ms. Jackson.” I smile and dip out of the classroom, making my way across campus to the gym.

“Finally.” Azzi groans, ball already in hand. “How do you make the plans and still come late?”

“Shut up,” I throw my bag down and walk over to her. ‘Gimme kiss.” 

She ducks away from me, laughing, “I thought we were gonna play one-on-one?”

“We were.” I nod my head, “But you look so good,” I smile and grab her hips, pulling her closer. 

She gives me a peck and tries to pull away, but a peck is never enough, so I chase her lips and she drops the ball, wrapping her arms around my neck. 

In a few months I’m gonna graduate and go to UCONN and she’s still gonna be here. We’re gonna be almost 2,000 miles apart, and I don’t know how I’m gonna survive without her but I’m not gonna think about it right now. 

Right now, I’m gonna do everything but fuck my girlfriend in the middle of my high school's gym.

♱TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

@darlindayss @his-loss @dreatopia

[janesbeloved]

FINDING FRANKIE LORE MASTERPOST — Everything I have been able to scrap together regarding the game's lore

Take all this with a grain of salt, and feel free to share your own deductions and opinions with me! This is not me "solving" Finding Frankie, but me coming to a conclusion of an overall image of the events of the game and it's story.

THIS POST WILL INCLUDE HEAVY SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

click more to read the entire masterpost!

IMPORTANT CHARACTERS

• Michael & Shawn Sykes: The two brothers who founded the company. Michael also served as the CEO before Stan Ellie.

• Stan Ellie: The latest CEO of the company and murder suspect of Shawn Sykes. His current whereabouts are unknown.

• Lucky Contestant: Protagonist of the game who has a mysterious connection of the company and has been a fan of the gameshow for multiple seasons.

• "The Other": A Frankie mascot who functions as the announcer and gamemaster, guiding the contestant through the game. He seems to have a connection to the "higher ups" that's much closer than the other mascots. There are multiple variants of him, scattered around the park, including one in the CEO's office. Their purpose is unclear.

• Henry Hotline: A mascot of the gameshow, yet he is the most sentient of the crew according to the devs, and he seems to know a lot about the true nature of the gameshow and the company, as was heard during his monologue and he ended up paying the price for his knowledge.

• Monster Frankie: A Frankie mascot that chases after the contestant most of the time, trying to kill them. While having low sentience according to the devs, it clearly responds to orders given by "The Other" and seems to enjoy roaming around the park when not chasing the contestant.

ROUGH TIMELINE INFORMATION

• Gameshows began in 2001 (as seen on the big screen at Frosted Peak)

• Despite the facility being decently modern, the use of VHS tapes and rotary phones could indicate the game taking place in 2005. However, there's a chance the game doesn't take place in the real world but instead is its own thing, so real life logic doesn't apply.

• IF the timeline of 2001-2005 is somewhat correct, and there has been 57 seasons of "Finding Frankie" we can deduce that the gameshows indeed do not take long (especially when Henry and Frankie talk of how contestants last only a few minutes, etc.) and multiple gameshow episodes can be fitted in a season. (more proof added to this later down in text!)

• The gameshow the protagonist plays in takes place on October 19th, potentially 2005 and the gameshow ended somewhere around 12am. It was thundering outside during the gameshow.

PAST EVENTS TIMELINE

(NOTE: Take all of this again with a grain of salt. I have not gotten answers for everything regarding the plot, but this rough timeline has things that are too fitting to be coincidences. Do let me know your opions and thoughts!)

Brothers Michael and Shawn Sykes founded Frankies cereal somewhere in the 1950s, possibly in 1954 considering thats listed as Frankies creation date. The screens in the parkour palace give us the information that they eventually made the decision to sell the IP, but they still didnt step down from the company, they remained there but the company got a new CEO, aka Stan Ellie.

My best guess is that Stan became the CEO somewhere in the 1980s, as Henry Hotline was created in 1986, and he was marketed as "Frankie's best friend and partner in crime" in their little cartoony universe.

In a newspaper clipping its stated that as Stan became the head of the company and decided to plan expansions for the IP, the brothers disagreed with his plans. Stan says in the interview, quote, "As an IP grows, so should we – and the characters. The brothers couldn't see that, as they deemed it "crass commercialism" and too much of a pivot from what they originally wanted. But I see it as an opportunity to grow Frankie, not just as an IP but as a character, and to expand this immersive world" end quote. In the same newspaper it's also stated that the companys first of many Indoor Parkour parks is set to open in a few months from when the interview was published.

With Deputy Duck created in 1990 and his job being a "tour guide" it makes sense his duty is to guide guests in the newly opened park. Thus marking the opening of Frankie's Parkour Palace in 1990.

(Side note: The park is in California! Wowza!)

The Parkour Palace didn't have it's doors open for the general public for long, as a body was discovered underneath trampolines in a play place. A newspaper clipping that talks of the discovery states that the body's identity and the circumstances surrounding the death remain unclear.

The body was unidentifiable, yet had a strong smell which is why the body was eventually discovered in the first place

This is where the third newspaper clipping comes in. Michael Sykes, the former CEO and co-founder, accuses CEO Stan Ellie of the murder of his brother, Shawn Sykes. With the recent discovery of the body beneath the trampolines, and this newspaper clipping stating that Stan will face a judge in court on November 12th, 1993 pushes it further that Michael is certain that Stan murdered his brother. The newspaper also states that Stan is to step down as the CEO, and the companys future was left unclear and uncertain.

CURRENT EVENTS TIMELINE

The park was never reopened to the general public after the body was discovered and Stan was accused of the murder. This is evident by the police tapes in the trampoline park (Noob noob area) where the body was discovered AND in Frosted Peak police tape conceals access to the CEO's office and other areas. It was left to how it was, and for a whole (possible) 7 years, it's uncertain what exactly was happening in the park. Perhaps the additions and stuff that were needed for the gameshows were built during this time? Who knows, but we do know that the gameshows began in 2001.

Lucky Contestant has a clear strong connection to the company and it goes beyond just being a fan. Lucky on purpose seeked for a tape in the cereal boxes, having to purchase 769 cereal boxes to finally acquire a vhs tape and be invited onto the gameshow. At the end of the game, a cutscene is provided to us where we can see a glimpse to the life of Lucky, specifically where he lives. But, thanks to the ability to break through boundaries inside a game, not only do we see how much of an awful state he's in, having to sleep on a mattress on the floor, but it is revealed to us that he's an avid fan. His little computer room shows us that he has access to the gameshow livestream, being greeted with the text "Welcome back, S".

Lucky's computer room AND his apartment in general was what gave us access to most of the lore I have been able to scrap together. On a monitor there's a paper with a list of Finding Frankie seasons from 41 to 57, with 57 circled with red. At the top it says "Everything changes" (keep this in mind for later) and at the bottom of the paper there's a code, but I haven't been able to figure out it's purpose.

There's also a screen that provides a countdown for the next seasons beginning. It's a bit hard to read, but if I guess correctly it says "91 hours" which adds to my point that these seasons are truly short, contestants last only a few minutes, if it takes only 3 days for a new season to begin after the last one.

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

(NOTE: This section will be me connecting the dots provided in the timelines and information listed above. I will also provide images, videos and all to function as sources for my claims. THESE ARE NOT UNDENIABLY CANON; JUST ME THEORIZING!)

Who murdered Shawn Sykes?

If Michael accusing Stan of the murders isn't enough to paint him as a culprit, there are more to back things up. In one of the newspaper clippings I mentioned, Stan talks of how the brothers strongly disagreed with his want to expand the company and adding more things to the IP. Why did Stan have issues with Shawn instead of Michael is unclear, but him wanting Shawn out of the way of his plans could've been a clear motive for his murder. (truly there could be a possible plot twist in the future regarding this, but ofc my current deductions are based on the game we have now.)

Who is the Lucky Contestant?

As I have made Lucky's connection to the company very clear, I shall make my claim that Lucky contestant IS Stan Ellie, the previous CEO and murder suspect. Here are my claims:

The note in Lucky's computer room reading "Everything Changes" is written in the same exact handwriting as the same "Everything Changes" written on an apartment paper found in the CEO's office. Lucky lives in an apartment, and has been an avid watcher of the gameshows for multiple seasons, being so much of a fan that he had a Frankie sticker on his VHS player.

"The Other" picked Lucky as the surviving contestant, purposefully rigging the game to ensure he would live until he'd reach Hexa-Havoc but would eventually be killed there. What are the odds that "The Other" chose Lucky just on a whim? "The Other" somehow knew where Lucky lives and what state his home is in. He knew too much about Lucky, for him choosing him to live to be just a coincidence or chance.

Henry Hotline, upon chasing Lucky, is desperate to keep him there and not let him go. During his chase sequence, Henry can be heard shouting "Don't leave me!" and "Stop stop! I need you!" as he desperately tries to catch him. While it is unclear that does Henry say this to every contestant he's dealt with in the past, it's important to note that Henry knows so much of whats going on, he knew too much and was killed because of it. There is a chance, he knew exactly who Lucky was.

Upon reaching the door to Frosted Peak, there are two livechat screens which you can read. It's all the viewers of the gameshow, placing bets on contestants and sharing their opinions of what's happening. One of the livestream texts is...strange, to say the least. Someone is directly talking to us, the contestant. While everything else is in all caps, this text isn't, and it reads: "I know it's you. where is my brother". Quite strange thing to say, unless Lucky indeed has a connection to someone's missing brother..much like... Stan Ellie...!

We can access the place where that body was found, in game. It's in the noob noob trampoline area, and as you go past the police tape, there's a hole which gives you access to be underneath the trampolines. There's clear bloodsplatter on the ground, and surprisingly enough as you remain crouched there, you can hear....tinnitus. Ringing in your ears. Sounds becomig muffled. Why would this area, out of everything that Lucky has experienced, would cause him to feel this..anxiety? It's like he's recalling a memory. A memory of something he did himself.

WHO RUNS THE GAMESHOW?

This is the one question I truly have no clear answer to, only guesses but there is no enough evidence to base them on anything. My guess is that Michael Sykes is in charge of it all, his motivation for doing everything is unclear. Henry Hotline only speaks of "the higher-ups" and if his wording is to be trusted, there's not just one person pulling the strings. Michael Sykes could be one of them. But what is certain, is that there does seem to be a human (or a humanoid mascot) who runs the show, as in the opening cutscene we saw someone press the ON AIR button to be on.

"The Other" clearly is connected to the higher-ups, but it's impossible to tell if he is a higher-up himself or only functions as their puppet with either his own level of sentience and/or someone speaks through him and controls him.

WHAT ARE THE MASCOTS?

Monster Frankie & Henry Hotline are robots with varying levels of sentience. How they gained sentience is unclear. They have control pannels down in the sewers, and there are various switches and other things that can be used to control them, such as options for "MOOD" and "FAKE BLOOD". Even after Henry Hotline's death, his control pannel remains on, and this leads me to believe there are two of him.

(This is again just me theorizing ofc!! Like this whole post is)

Much like there are two Frankie's (Three, if counting the sentient AI Cartoon Frankie), there truly seems to be two of Henry Hotline: Monster Henry and "The real Henry".

This is tied to how Henry's chase scene functions and the strong difference in appearance between the two Henry's. Henry doesn't chase you continuously like Monster Frankie, but he disappears at one point and reappears the next. This is where I believe Monster Henry and "real Henry" switch, and the "real one" chases after Lucky to finish the chace, explaining his personal desperation to catch him. "Real Henry" also is the one who ends up getting beat up.

(NOTE: Upon receiving the golden key from the CEO's office, you gey access to the elevator that takew you to a secret room that serves as a recharge station for the mascots. Both Monster Frankie and Henry Hotline are set to return in season 58 (with Henry marked as "X2") but "The Other" is not noted to appear...)

IMAGES + VIDEOS TO BACK UP MY CLAIMS:

VIDEOS:

https://youtube.com/shorts/3qYOEUctcF4?si=nf5CRbdbUENpbhbG

https://youtu.be/WmStk7Ofl_w?si=k2unkTednQ8szOn2

https://youtu.be/JwYQvSCBJn8?si=pt4fwkt1lS7VX3RU

https://youtu.be/oNHk2fsR8uo?si=14HQfY-CxNz4qQWF

—

THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR!!!! I'd love to hear what opinions people have and ofc if anyone has claims that go against mine, I would love to do sole chill debating and theorizing!! This is all done by me just for fun and for pure love and adoration for this game and it's universe. Ofc leave any questions in comments, reblogs or even send me a DM ! I'm also on twitter (user is also janesbeloved) if reaching out is easier there!

[dizzyisdizzy]

Sorry if you might have been asked this before, but do you have any advice on how to draw character poses? I always seem to have a problem with how to draw the shape and it never turns out right.

Have a nice day☺️

Start with the torso! It defines so much about the character's possible flexibility.

Being more specific, before the pose is finished the only anatomy I consider are the horizontal/vertical alignment of the body, and once I got used to that, proportions. If you worry about muscles/bones at this point you'll just overwhelm yourself. In particular, the hips/legs, arms/collar bone, and neck/chest and upper/lower torsos should line up cleanly with each other. My poses usually start more like the right example, before I add other stuff to see if I like the vision.

These also act as reference points when doing weirder angles and poses, so you can track where the body should be even if its off camera or the angle is throwing you off.

Shapes are very abstract but I got a couple things.

Don't worry about breaking anatomy at this stage. If the shape *feels* cool, just go for it. As long as you keep in mind the essential reference points, you can probably make it work. Super “correct” anatomy doesn’t lend itself to fun shapes. Have fun.

When I first started I drew with my wrist as the pivot point. Wrists are nice for writing small and precise lettering, which is like, the opposite fun and interesting shapes need. You may consider using your elbow or shoulder instead. They create broad, varied shapes far more easily.

If you're not sure what you want from a shape, you can assign traits to your lines and shapes. Convex/concave, soft/sharp, rounder/straighter, etc. Ideas will come easier with better anatomy understanding.

Long term Lesson Plan:

ALOT of Timed Gesture Drawings. You can google it easy. The big skill here is quickly identifying/drawing the essentials of any given pose. I've done countless of these, and it is boring.... but it just be like that sometimes.

Study bone/muscle structure. Again it’s google able. It's the body’s frame so it will influence your shapes (your shapes for bony areas would differ from the ones with more fat/muscle). My method was drawing a bone and muscle structure over real photos/artwork from various poses and angles.

From here I did long-form studies on various pictures. Some were real photos but I also did studies on @/chaesuart from twitter. They have a strong grasp on this stuff and do a lot of crazy poses to push you.

I did a lot of this studying last month actually and my poses do feel much better. Although actually creating poses from scratch is still a challenge (I rely a lot on good references).

[moondance-r-writes]

SAGAU-adjacent not-Creator Creator 4

Summary: You knew, viscerally down to your bones, that you did not create this world; Teyvat had no grand creator, no single hand designing its wonders. It did, however, have something of a catalytic agent, without which it would not exist.

You.

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You separated from Diluc that morning. Despite Alatus -- Xiao -- offering to teleport you straight to Liyue Harbor, you preferred to take your time. It had been untold millennia, after all, since you had experienced a world’s bounties for yourself, and even longer since you had a physical body to do it with. You wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Walking through Guili Planes was... an experience. The crumbling ruins were of a different style from the civilisation you saw upon your arrival, but it was a grim reminder that Liyue, like Mondstadt, had not been wholly peaceful during its existence. Unfortunately, you had the feeling that the rest of Teyvat was similar.

Xiao was ever present by your side. He would occasionally divert you from your path, which you assumed was to avoid monsters, though it wasn’t necessary. You allowed it for several reasons: one, the poor guy was stressed enough; two, he didn’t know of the affection Teyvat’s creatures held for you; and three, you did come across corpses, meaning someone was in the area killing them.

For your part you were wholly unworried -- slimes had already proven their refusal to harm you and you expected other creatures born of Teyvat to be the same. It was humans, and creatures born of humans, that you were concerned by.

(To your slight surprise, this included hilichurls. Despite being classified as monsters by Teyvat at large, they were too human, too sapient, to be overwhelmed by Teyvat’s love for you.)

It wasn’t a shock for you to eventually come upon the one slaughtering all the monsters in the area. What was a surprise was that it was all done by a single person.

You watched a ginger-haired young man wielding blades of Hydro rip his way through a hilichurl camp. He was a storm in motion, striking then dancing away from retaliation, every step trailed by an eye-catching red scarf. Beneath you, Geo rumbled, Ajax Tartaglia, child of the devouring deep, Hydro, more Abyss than human.

Xiao tensed.

As soon as the last hilichurl fell, the man pivoted to face you with a relaxed stance, one hand still absently spinning a Hydro blade. “You know, if you wanted a show, I’d be plenty happy to show you up close and personal,” he leered with a pointed swing of his blade.

“Impertinent,” Xiao hissed, looking like he was one taunt away from lunging. The man only laughed.

You looked between the two of them. There was bad blood there, you could tell. ...How interesting. “Who is he, Xiao?”

Surprisingly, the adeptus was able to tense even more. Slowly, flatly, he replied, “He is the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, and dangerous.” Unsaid was his intense desire to take you elsewhere or drive him away.

Instead of acknowledging that, you turned to the Eleventh Harbinger. “That’s not a name,” you observed.

“Tartaglia at your service -- but please, call me Childe.”

He certainly suited the name. Pretty, boyish, young; there was a madness in him too, one that was incompatible with the Teyvat around you but might not be out of place in the depths where you slumbered. Maybe, if he was amenable to a trip home, you might have a companion on your journey to the world’s roots. “A pleasure to meet you. I am--”

“The sun is setting,” Xiao interrupted. It was such a change from his previous deference that you just blinked at him for several seconds.

“...That’s true,” you said slowly when he didn’t continue, “are we close enough to Liyue Harbor to get there tonight?”

“Oh definitely not,” Childe said, now strolling closer while completely ignoring Xiao’s darkening expression. You were sure that the only thing stopping Xiao from violently removing Childe was your presence. “So why don’t we share a campfire for the night? I make a mean seafood soup!”

You didn’t know how you ended up sitting by a fire with two men glaring daggers at each other. Or rather, Xiao glared daggers while Childe responded with goading smirks.

Dinner had been as delicious as promised, though it looked more like a scene of carnage than you had expected. It held only the basest of resemblances with the Calla Lily Seafood Soup you remembered from Mondstadt. Xiao, for some reason, did not receive a portion.

Childe’s actions did make you curious. Mondstadt’s people had greeted you with a festival and Xiao with deep respect, which had made you suspect that everyone on Teyvat could recognise you as their supposed ‘Creator’ on sight, but Childe hadn’t. Either he was the only person in the world who didn’t buy into the cult, or there was something else going on.

...On reflection, the people without Visions whom you met during your first day in Liyue didn’t treat you as anyone particularly special either, while those with Visions tended to be friendlier. As evidenced by Childe. Mondstadt didn’t count, you had been presented to them as the Creator from the start.

You were presented as the Creator, that was the key. They probably didn’t possess a mythical Creator radar. Fortunately.

But someone had to have sensed you, otherwise you would never have left the island you woke on. As a dragon, Dvalin wasn’t a surprise, and Venti... the Archons. Of course. Didn’t you note the traces of your power in Venti and the statues of him and Morax yourself? There were sparks of it in the Visions too, but nothing as strong as those in the Archons and Statues of Seven.

If the Statues held enough of your power for you to resonate with them, and the Archons were connected to the statues made in their image, everything could be explained. The only mystery was why Morax didn’t show up in person.

He couldn’t be dead, because Liyue still stood. He couldn’t not know of you, because he sent Xiao. And if he was busy directing preparations for your celebratory feast, as Xiao had implied, then that showed a gross miscalculation of priorities uncharacteristic for someone who had ruled this nation for nigh on 4000 local solar orbits. You weren’t offended -- there was no such thing as a Creator in the first place -- but you were quite curious.

The next day, your group expanded from two to three. Childe insisted on tagging along, to Xiao’s consternation, and couldn’t be chased away. They got along like cats and dogs and it was entertaining to watch.

The bickering lasted all the way until you reached the hill overlooking the bridge leading into Liyue Harbor. Every building was bedecked with lanterns and banners as far as the eye could see, just as festive as Mondstadt yet with their own distinct style. You stopped in your tracks.

Childe shrugged. “They got this done in the last few days, not sure what it’s for. There’s still a few months until the Lantern Rite.”

You did not want to walk through the streets to be gawked at, whether that be due to your own identity or those of your companions. You turned to the adeptus among you. “Xiao, can you bring us straight to the venue?” you requested.

He nodded and held out his hand, but only after you looked pointedly at Childe did he reluctantly grip the Harbinger’s arm as well. You would take what you could get.

“Hey, wait--”

Before Childe could voice the rest of his objection, you took Xiao’s hand and the three of you disappeared on the spot.

You rematerialised in an octagonal plaza facing a large building, which a plaque informed you was Yiyan Temple. Behind you, Childe stumbled, to Xiao’s audible ridicule; you knew without looking that Childe must have gestured something rude in return.

Two people in armoured uniforms saluted and opened the doors. You could sense significant amounts of Geo pulsating out from something within, as well as sparks of your power emanating from Visions among the crowd that glittered like stars to your senses. There was also a torch’s worth of your power -- an Archon. Morax. Though you hardly registered their appearances, luxurious as their clothes were, as Geo clamoured to introduce these personages to you.

Morax, earth dragon, Geo Archon, adeptus, a void where there was once god-heart-gnosis.

Ningguang, human, Geo, born of Liyue.

Cloud Retainer, crane, Anemo, adeptus, bound to the Lord of Geo.

Keqing, human, Electro, born of Liyue.

There were more, and you filed each of them away even as Morax and Ningguang bowed simultaneously, followed shortly by everyone else. “Your Grace the Primordial Architect,” Morax said in his deep voice, “this one is honoured to welcome thine self to the land of Geo.”

“Your Grace?” Childe repeated, quietly but with feeling.

Right, you had never actually introduced yourself to him because Xiao had interrupted. Withholding a sigh, you ordered some Anemo to whisper in his ear, “In short, I’m not the Creator, there is no Creator, I’ll explain later.” Then you turned your attention to the Archon. “Please, rise,” you said to all of them. This reception was getting a little more intense than Mondstadt's.

[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Taglist: @fantasyhopperhea // @silverstar56 // @lexal-amber-rose // @noblessejjk // @neo-meta // @etherisy // @strangeygirl

[vashtijoy]

Extremely random thought but do you think that cringy fanfictions written by preteens who then grew up to be embarassed adults would have never existed in the Marukiverse, considering how that art student who was in a slump was forcibly pivoted to archery instead?

wow, goddamn. I guess you could take it either way, couldn't you? Maruki does seem to think that struggling against the odds isn't worth it, and that depression and discouragement are best treated by giving up.

I do tend to think that Maruki is able to tell what people truly want, to somehow divine it out of their heads, even before 12/24—just because all of the kids get something they really want, even when it's not necessarily obvious. Maruki makes some startling judgements there, but the PTs all seem to agree that they were genuine temptations.

So my reading would tend be that Yusuke's artist friend really did think he might have been happier as an archer, and really did believe there was no hope for him in art—but, just as the PTs all turn down their wishes that they desperately want, Yusuke's friend has chosen not to switch paths, and to stick with his painting despite his slump. Until Maruki happens to him, at any rate.

What I think is more likely is that people who want to write would still write. They just wouldn't ever feel discouraged, or down. They wouldn't go through that phase of realising all their work is cringe. And of course, because Maruki's reality has no pain or challenge or complexity, nobody would ever write anything worth reading.

Which brings me to....

deleted text chat

While I was checking the archery chat, I ran into this deleted chat all about conflicting wishes, and how the very thoughts in people's heads, their ability to feel negative emotions at all, will likely be erased. It's unsettling reading, and confirms a number of theories that go around about what life in Maruki's reality would really have been like, and how he'd likely handle conflicts.

It's SCRIPTCHAT_282, and since it didn't make it into the English localisation, it will have been cut in very early dev. Look out for Akechi chiming in when Ann talks about wishing to get rid of people they don't want around.

Futaba 正月のこと覚えてるか? Do you guys remember New Year? Ryuji そりゃもちろん 嫌でも忘れねーよ… Course we do. There’s no way we could forget that. Futaba わたしのおかーさんいただろ? 春もおとーさんいたよな? My mom was there, right? And Haru’s dad was there too, right? Haru え、うん　いたけど… Uh, yes. I suppose so... Makoto なにかあった? Did something happen? Futaba ちょっと考えてたんだ I was thinking. Futaba 死んじゃった人に会いたいって 思ったら生き返ってたじゃん? If we think about wanting dead people back, they come back to life, right? Futaba んじゃその逆は? って So does it work the other way around? Sumire 逆…ですか The… other way around? Ann いなくなってほしい人に 消えろって願ったら… If we wish for people to disappear, who we don’t want around… Ann ってこと? Is that what you mean? Futaba そ! Yeah! Akechi なかなか面白い考えだね 、どう思う? That’s quite an interesting thought. Ren, what do you make of it? [Joker] 消える気がする I feel like disappearing myself. [Joker] 考え方が変わる It’s changed my perspective. Yusuke だが、誰かが生きてほしいと 願ったらどうなるんだ But then, what would happen if somebody else wished they were still alive? Sumire 一度消えて また現れるんですかね… They’d die, and then reappear again, wouldn’t they..? Ryuji 忙しいな Busy day. Akechi そういう考え自体 が 消えてしまうんじゃないかな You know, even thoughts such as these may die out in the end. Yusuke 自分のか? You mean our own thoughts? Sumire そういうこと考えなくなる ってことですね Do you mean we just wouldn’t think such things any more? Akechi 僕も同意見だな　思考自体を消されると思うよ It does seem likely. I’m afraid thought itself will be erased. Futaba あーなるほど Huh. I see. Haru 負の感情を抱かなくなるのかぁ… So… so we won’t be able to feel bad things any more..? Ann 平和になりそうだけど なんか気味悪いね It’s kind of creepy, isn’t it? We’d get to live in peace, but… Ryuji つか、よくそんな 物騒 なこと思いつくよな You always gotta think of the worst things, don’t you, Futaba? Futaba だってヒマなんだもん It’s because I get bored. Futaba あ、そうじろう帰って来た そんじゃな! Oh, there’s Sojiro! See ya! Yusuke 本当に暇潰しだったのか So this was all just to relieve her boredom? Makoto じゃあ、私たちも 授業に戻りましょう We should all turn back to our lessons, anyway. Morgana 人を生き返らせる、か。認知を使ってそんなことするなんて… Bringing people back to life, huh? Imagine using cognition to do such a thing… Morgana ワガハイには理解できないぜ。 I just can’t understand it.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (posted 2024/11/30)—first posted.

[anxietycheesecake]

The lack of media literacy in this fandom is wild.

They basically said 'in your wildest dreams, here's a scenario that could have been the ending. And to highlight just how much this couldn't or didn't happen, here are two other endings that couldn't possibly happen' and people somehow came to the conclusion that this scene was remotely canon when it was the exact opposite.

It was imperative to somebody that the show fully clarifies that Nandor and Guillermo do not and will not fuck. They need the audience to know that and The Guide was once again used as a wedge to drive home that Nandor and Guillermo are platonic and only platonic. Nandor finds The Guide physically attractive and is romantically attracted. Whether his motivations are selfish and would fizzle upon realization is irrelevant because it's canon that he is into her and if you drew a venn diagram with his feelings for The Guide and Guillermo, there would be little overlap. That was the entire purpose of Guidmor this season and nearly the only purpose The Guide served. Friends, best friends, partners, in love with The Guide - they are circling this shit with a bright red marker.

And yeah, much of the direction they've taken on Nandor and Guillermo's relationship and taking jabs at shippers is because the fanart, fanfic, and general shipping made Simms uncomfortable and I'll die on that hill. The 'ick' is palpable in every one of those interviews where he says it wouldn't be profound enough, 'do people really want to see that? Really?' or that it would be problematic. They literally pivoted in the aftermath of season 3 and 4 because of the reception.

Tell me that in a world without social media, in a world where they didn't see how fans reacted, Nandor and Guillermo's relationship would have played out as it did. Tell me that it was in good faith and not damage control. Tell me they didn't want to kill that narrative while not losing viewership.

Tell me that this isn't the very manifestation of queer content being fun until it's more than a joke.

It's actually okay to be hurt if you create fan content and it makes a homophobic person uncomfortable, instead of telling yourself that couldn't possibly be how a showrunner, writer, or company really feels about something you care about and have invested in. It's a hard, shitty thing, especially when they dangled that ship to the point of using 'Nandermo' in promotional material. It's okay for others to be upset by this and have a myriad of personal or impersonal reasons for being offended, sad, angry. Our reaction isn't an attack on fans who are satisfied, and you don't have to rationalize an ugly truth when somebody is in the wrong and hurting real people. Simms is the one in a position of power here, not fans on Tumblr. He can absolutely steamroll the writers and actors on this if he wants to, and it can be seen in interviews, such as the one with Stefani. As I said in my previous ask, Harvey is a real gay person who has to smile and nod while his boss repeatedly uses these talking points to delegitimize gay relationships right in front of him like we're in the early 2000s.

Fuck that shit. This conduct is appalling and you have every right to be disgusted.

Thank you so much, bestie, the gaslighting got me thinking I was insane. Like good for people who are satisfied, but I think you should be able to see the whole picture beyond your own feelings. If nandermo had gone canon and everything else was the exact same, I'd complain about the lack of proper development and closure for everyone else, while being ecstatic for my beloved blorbos. Because you can aknowledge when shitty things happen even if you personally find them gratifying.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 13: Size Difference

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7129

Warnings: Afab!/reader, size difference, noncon, abduction, bathing, aphrodisiacs, drugging, bareback, stomach bulge, gendered terms 

A/N: okay, look … I’ve been deeply in love with the Daythunder Eremites since we got our first glimpse of them right before 3.0 dropped. Did I lose the plot a little bit on this one? Maybe. But I’m actually obsessed with this NPC. I even went around and marked their locations on my map with the little meat pin. ✋😭 I quite literally ran OUT of available pins because of it. Not one single person better question why I picked him for this prompt instead of Enjou (I was extremely tempted tho, trust and believe that xmdkxk)

⭐

It was quickly becoming apparent that you were in a bit over your head with this commission. Between the wailing researchers on the ground, the frightened Sumpter Beast making a lumbering escape for the near distant tree line, the attacking Eremites and the damaged cart that had inexplicably caught fire at some point, the situation was clearly spiraling far out of your control.  

Gripping your sword so hard it hurts, you try to take stock of what was happening and regroup. There wasn’t enough time to fully process it though. The small stretch of road — if you could even call it that — had devolved into complete and utter chaos in the blink of an eye, and you have to lurch to avoid the incoming swing of a huge battle ax before you can make any sense of it. But if there was one thing you knew, intrinsically, it was that there were too many of them for you to take on alone. It was too much for a single adventurer no matter how talented or skilled you may have been. 

You dance back, not even daring to breathe as you agily avoid the weapon swinging at you with so much force you not only hear the violent displacement of air but you can even feel it too. This was incredibly dangerous. One hit from that ax would shatter bones, possibly even crush organs, and you’d likely be dead before the day was through. You had to get away but — pivoting your body, you steal a split second glance at the helpless researchers. They were cowering at the feet of a girl, no older than yourself, who was holding them at blade point while the other Eremites quickly worked to unload the cargo before it all went up in smoke with the burning cart. You needed to get away but so did they. 

Clenching your teeth, you duck to avoid the next swing and dive under that huge, muscular arm to hit the dirt. You feel him shift behind you, alter the momentum and start to bring the heavy ax down right on top of you. Bracing for the destructive impact, you throw yourself forward into a stiff roll seconds before the ground erupts in a spray of dirt and grass that showers you in grime even when you skid to a halt some few feet away. Your heart feels like it’s going to slam right out of your chest as you frantically stumble to your feet on jelly filled legs, almost dropping your sword in your haste. 

You couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to avoid that hit … 

With a choked, gasping wheeze, you force yourself into a dead sprint, ignoring the thrumming terror that threatens to debilitate you as you dart across the road right towards the Eremite girl. You may not have been able to save their precious research but you could still save them! 

“Run!” You scream, making her turn. It was too late though. 

Leaning your shoulder into it, you slam into her so hard both of you go flying through the air to hit the ground in a heap. It knocks the air out of you (and her, by the sound of it) but you quickly roll away and struggle to your feet once again. There’s so much adrenaline pumping through your system you hardly even feel yourself moving, numb to everything going on around you, but you’re still distantly aware of the resulting scramble when the two researchers jump up to make a break for it. Good. At least now you could worry about yourself. 

But you don’t quite make it that far. 

The huge man with the ax is suddenly right on top of you — you hadn’t even seen him coming! Your heartbeat stutters a surprised beat and you just barely get your sword up in time to block his next swing. Unfortunately the force of it knocks your blade from your screaming hands, sending it pinwheeling up and away at such a high arc you could never hope to snag it and he doesn’t stop long enough to let you watch it fall back to the earth. 

One second you’re stumbling from the impact. The next he’s snatching a fistful of your hair to yank you towards him, and you collapse at his feet on your knees. Sharp, stabbing splinters of pain shoot through your body but it’s quickly overshadowed by the agony of him using his hold on your hair to pull you upright, damn near taking you right off the ground. Seething, you force your eyes open to glare daggers at him when he bends close and puts his face inches from yours in a clear, obvious display of intimidation. 

“That was a stupid thing to do.” 

“I’ll kill her!” The Eremite girl shrieks, scrabbling to get up. “I’ll skin her alive and put her head on a spike!” 

You go stockstill, lungs constricting painfully when you feel her reach for you. But, to your squawking surprise, the huge man physically drags you away from her and closer to himself like you were little more than a toy they were fighting over. 

“Wait, Siri. Not yet.” He warns, the low growl in his voice growing stronger, and you sway in his hold with a suffocating feeling of dread. What a terrible situation to find yourself in. “Let me have this one. You can play with her when I’m done.” 

“Do you really think I want your leftovers?” She snaps, both of them completely ignoring the way you wheeze between them. “She shoved me onto the ground, Aziz! She’ll be lucky if that’s all I do! I’m going to pluck out her eyes and - -“ 

“Enough, you two!” A third Eremite barks over. Still panting raggedly, you carefully turn your head even when it tugs at your hair to find another towering man standing some few feet away with one of the salvaged crates clutched against his chest. Idly, you realize the cart was almost completely engulfed in flames now and rapidly turning to smoldered ash. The guild was going to get such an earful from you if you made it out of this alive. 

“But - -“

“I don’t want to hear it!” The other man cuts her off again. “We need to get this stuff out of here. Now! Those two researchers escaped so we need to be long gone before they send in backup. Bring the adventurer if you want, I don’t care. Just get your asses in gear.” 

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Siri shoots you a quick look that is no less chilling behind the red cloth hiding her eyes before stiffly pushing into motion. You watch her walk away to join the others, your stomach cramping with nerves, and it only gets worse when Aziz tugs on your hair to bring your attention back up to him again. 

“Looks like you got lucky today. In more ways than one, I’d say.” Pausing, he puts his head to one side to send the braid over his temple swinging, and you can’t quite shake the impression of being a helpless rabbit caught under a tiger's paw. He was so massive, and the way he looks at you ... “I admit, your swordsmanship was pretty good. You’ve got good instincts even if you don’t have the strength to back it up. Tell me, little adventurer. Where do you hail from?” 

You draw a steadying breath and try not to regurgitate everything that was in your stomach right down to the bile. “Mondstadt. I’m originally from Mond.” 

“I see. You’re a far way from home then. I hope no one there is going to miss you too much.” 

~*~

They lead you into a camp, blindfolded and with your wrists bound behind your back, but you recognize the distinct sounds of daily life for what they are immediately. You can hear children shrieking and laughing, weaving in and out of your peripheral senses in what could only be play. There were women murmuring nearby, speaking so low you couldn’t make out what they were saying when the grizzled voices of older men seemed to drown them out. You can just make out what you think must be a dog snuffling around your ankles in a quick burst of sound before darting away when they drag you further in and, somewhere, a goat bleats. 

There’s sand under your feet now so you knew you were no longer in the lush rainforests of Sumeru but, rather, the desert. You’d never gone this far west before, precisely because of the grip the Eremites had on the area. Having heard plenty of stories about just how cutthroat they could be in the harsh environment they called home, you had wanted to avoid crossing paths with them if at all possible but a lot of good that had done you. 

The acrid, dry air seems to rob you of the ability to breathe and you stumble, gasping against the grit and oppressive heat, when Aziz shoves you through what must be a doorway. Abruptly you’re enshrouded in a blanket of cool that is so noticeably different from the temperature outside it actually makes you shiver at the sudden change. He doesn’t give you a chance to truly appreciate it or sigh out in relief though, simply pulling you by the arm even when you nearly trip over your own aching feet. 

His hand feels impossibly huge on your neck when he finally palms the back of it and shoves you down to sit on the floor, forcing your legs to splay under you at an awkward angle. Panting, you cautiously shift to settle on your butt even as he reaches up to loosen the knot he’d tied behind your head. It falls away with a quiet slither of fabric, and you blink into the gloom of what you quickly realize is a tent. His tent? You couldn’t be sure, and you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to know. 

“You don’t have to do this …” You whisper into the stillness, and he just scoffs. 

“You don’t even know what it is I’m going to do yet. Be patient, little adventurer from Mondstadt. You might like it.” 

You very much doubted that, but hold your tongue on the slim hope that compliance might see you through this in one piece. Even if your arms hadn’t been secured behind your back it was obvious you still wouldn’t have been much of a match against someone like him. He’d already thoroughly cemented that back in the forest. Because not only was Aziz incredibly tall, he was also filled out and thick with heavy muscle mass. Just one of his biceps looked like it was greater in width than your thigh and you fully believed he could crush you like a grape if he so chose. With no other option available, you grudgingly acquiesce when he turns you around to face him. 

He was still wearing his own blindfold, that rich red brocade hiding his eyes, but you recognized the way he looked at you even without being able to see them. You’re not entirely sure how he — or any of the Eremites — got around as well as they did without the use of their sight, and a tremor tears through you when he sedately reaches out to touch the side of your face. Not so much as a split second falter or other sign of hesitation. It was like he knew exactly where you were, like he could see through the material, and a fresh curling tendril of unease snakes through you at the thought of his people having some divinely appointed sixth sense. Was that why their strongest warriors covered their faces? 

“You’re filthy.” He suddenly announces, and you know it’s not just the grit of dirt and sand he’s talking about. You were thoroughly drenched in sweat from the trek out here as much as your earlier standoff with him, and it was now quickly cooling to settle a chill over your sore body. 

Jaw clenching, you turn your face from him. “Is it really any wonder? You almost took my head off back there.” 

Chuckling softly, Aziz drops his hand to rest on his bent knee where he’s knelt in front of you. “Sorry about that. If it counts for anything, Siri almost took it too.” 

You send him a slow, wary look. Was that really supposed to make you feel any better? 

He just offers up an indifferent shrug of his broad shoulders though, and then moves to straighten up. Watching him walk over to a big clay pot standing sentry a few paces away, you momentarily toy with the notion of running while his back was turned but immediately quash the thought. The grim reality of the situation was not lost on you. Not only did you have no idea where you were and even less of an idea how to get back, you also had no working knowledge of how to survive in the desert. Even if you could get past him and then all the other Eremites outside, escape the camp, what would you do then? No food, no water, not even any supplies or extra clothes to keep you warm when night inevitably fell. You’d be a sitting duck for any hungry predators out on the prowl if hypothermia didn’t catch up to you first. You’d heard how cold it gets after the sun sets out here, and you weren’t sure if you were brave enough to take the chance …

It doesn’t matter either way. Before you can even consider changing your mind Aziz returns with a shallow bowl and a rag which you regard suspiciously when he sets it aside. You could guess where this was going, but it still shocks you a great deal that he then reaches for the front of your clothes like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing, and without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it either.  

“Wait - -“

“Hush, adventurer. I won’t hurt you so long as you play nice and remember not to bite the hand keeping you alive.” 

Swallowing hard, you numbly watch him take the front of your guild uniform in hand and casually pop it open with a sedate tug that sends buttons flying in either direction. They fall near silent across the worn tarp that serves as the floor of the tent, and you draw a slow, shuddering breath. Try not to linger on the way his heavy knuckles brush against your chest while he pulls the shirt open to expose the silk chemise underneath. Distantly, you start to wonder if he’ll untie your hands just to get you undressed, thinking you might have a chance to flee after all — but then he rips at the fabric, giving you a sudden jerk at the force, and your mouth drops open in shock when it simply tears from you in a ragged panel. 

Realizing he’s just going to peel it off you in pieces, you purse your lips into a tight line to stop yourself from crying out as he shreds your blouse to tatters and ribbons that fall to the floor around you in a pathetic heap. He does the same with the chemise and then your long skirt, pausing only long enough to yank away your boots, hose and, finally, your bloomers. You don’t give up the last without a fight but he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge all your squirming and twisting while he easily manhandles you to relieve you of your final dignity some moments later. 

Seething, you primly squeeze your legs together to hide your most intimate spot from him but it barely gives Aziz pause. One of those massive hands reaches out to clamp around your ankle and he none too gently drags you across the floor to leave you laid out on your back. Ignoring your incensed hissing, he shifts and settles into a cross legged position in front of you before reaching calmly for the bowl. 

“You remind me of a cat, you know that?” He murmurs, dipping the rag into the water to soak it through as you struggle back up into a sitting position.

“One of the Rishboland Tigers, I hope.” 

He outright laughs. “No. You are like a very small, very feisty kitten that hasn’t yet learned her place in this world.” 

You stiffen at that, narrowing your eyes at him, but he pays it little mind. Squeezing out the rag of excess water, he stretches his hand out towards your face again and you stubbornly try to crane your neck to escape it. Aziz just follows you though, and you give a startled little squawk when he finally presses the cool cloth into your cheek. 

“That’s cold!” 

Softly shushing you, he drags the rag over your skin to wipe away all the sweat, dirt and grime coating your face. Much to your grudging dismay you quickly find that it actually felt rather nice and he was not near as violent or brutish about it as his appearance would have suggested he’d be. It’s almost gentle, in fact, and you slowly find yourself relaxing into it with a stilted sigh. You would be glad to be clean again, even if you had to endure the humiliation of being washed like a child to achieve it. 

Cautiously roving your eyes up when he starts to work his way down your neck, you take a moment to really study him. You couldn’t say for sure if he was looking back at you or if the brunt of his attention was focused on the task at hand, but you try not to let that uncertainty dissuade you. After all, if he was bold enough to undress you like this then surely he could handle a bit of staring. And you think, with no shortage of surprise, that he was probably handsome under that mask. His jaw was smooth and well defined, housing a pair of full, kissable lips that purse slightly when he scrubs at a splotch of dirt on your throat. You still didn’t like him very much after he’d almost smashed you to bits with his giant ax and then kidnapped you, spirited away into the inhospitable desert, but you couldn’t exactly deny what was in front of you. 

Maybe if you’d met under (vastly) different circumstances … 

“Do you like what you see?” 

You sniff and look away to take in the rest of the tent. “Hardly.” 

Aziz chuckles again while he rinses out the rag in the dish before bringing it back to your skin once again. “Such a grumpy little adventurer … what are you doing so far away from home? I’ve heard Mondstadt is very different from Sumeru.” 

“It is,” You relent, hating yourself for leaning into his touch when he caresses over a throbbing spot on your shoulder. You must have banged it on the ground rolling around earlier, or maybe it was from plowing into Siri. “We don’t have any deserts or great big forests. Well … none like what Sumeru has, anyway. No tigers to worry about, either. All we’ve got are wolves, but they don’t usually attack humans.” 

He hums a quiet sound of acknowledgement, taking a moment to massage into the aching muscle under his heavy fingers when he sees the pinch in your expression. “You miss it.” 

It’s a statement, not a question, and you sigh. “Considering where I’m at right now, yeah. It’s kind of hard not to.” 

“Grumpy.” 

You try not to scowl at that, knowing it wouldn’t get you anywhere even if you kicked up a fit and fought him tooth and nail. At least he was being nice about it. That was one good thing in all this, you think — only to suck in a quick breath as he drags his hand lower to wipe your chest clean. You know it’s coming but it still pulls a quiet whimper out of you when the rag passes over your breast, catching at the nipple to send a static jolt through your body. Shirking, you try to twist away from him but it’s useless with your hands tied behind your back and he just follows you. The way he kneads and squeezes at the swell of flesh under the guise of cleaning you up doesn’t escape your notice, and neither does your reaction to it. But it horrifies you more than anything else and, steadying yourself, you try to rein it in. If ever there was a worse time for your baser urges to start taking over, this would have been it. 

But rather than lingering, Aziz soon switches to the other side which he gives the same level of patient attention to. A handful of groping squeezes, a brief pinch to the nipple and then he’s moving on again. Your breathing starts to pick up as he works his way lower, swiping the rag under your breasts to lift and nudge them against his thick knuckles. His skin is rough and calloused on yours wherever it touches, and you hate the way it makes you feel. Hot and flushed, and just ever so slightly sensitized in his wake. A shudder tears down your spine when he starts running the wet cloth over your stomach. 

“W - wait —“ 

He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t even so much as pause, and you try very hard not to yelp when he rather boldly swipes his hand from your bellybutton straight into the soft cradle of your thighs. Eyes widening in mute horror, you rock back and try to squeeze your legs shut to no avail. He just leans forward, invading your space again as his unoccupied hand comes up to wrap around the nape of your neck. You can’t quite believe it when he yanks you backwards and eases you onto the floor with perfect control that stops you from slamming your head back. It would have been quite impressive if only your heart didn’t feel like it was going to slam right through your ribcage and, mewling a desperate, frazzled noise, you make a last ditch effort to twist away. But he just holds you in place, keeping you pinned by the neck, while he bullies your thighs apart with the other hand. 

A faltering, highly embarrassing sound bursts out of you when the damp rag presses firm against your cunt at last. He pauses there a moment to squeeze at you through the cloth, almost idly grinding his palm down and making you twitch, before finally dragging it further down to run along the slit in your body. Left wheezing in the aftermath, you just lay there and try to wrap your head around this confusing turn of events. You couldn’t make sense of it. Although you’d expected it on some level, wasn’t this still a little … strange? 

The way he cleans you is almost so formal it seems to border on ritualistic. Like he was performing some kind of ceremony or rite. The horrifying thought that perhaps he was preparing you for sacrifice crosses your mind and you can’t quite stop from cowering when he pushes up to kneel on his knees beside you. But, to your squawking surprise, all he does is grab hold of your ankle again and uses it to pull you over onto your stomach like you were little more than an uncooperative toddler. 

“H - hey! I’m not a child you know!” 

“A great relief, I assure you.” 

Flushing red hot, you force yourself to grow still and just lay there while he wipes across your back and arms, your sides, running down to your ass and then lower still to get the backs of your legs. It was an altogether humiliating experience and not one you’d like to repeat any time soon, but you couldn’t deny you felt nice and fresh by the time he finally finishes up a small eternity later. Squeaky clean, even. It’s a great improvement from your earlier state, at least, and you don’t protest when he hooks a hand under your arm to help you sit back up. 

Deeply ruffled, you try to reorient yourself while he moves to dispose of the used water somewhere at the back of the tent. You once again consider making a run for it but … oh, it would be another matter entirely if they hadn’t blindfolded you! That was the only thing stopping you from trying. The very real possibility you’d pick the wrong direction and just end up wandering deeper into the desert without even realizing your mistake until it was much too late keeps you firmly rooted to the spot and certainly not because of the dull thrum in your cunt. Nope. Definitely not. 

Aziz comes close again, snapping you out of your stunned trance, and you glance up as he kneels in front of you to warily eye the petite bone carved container in his hand. It was shaped like a flower, and something about it makes every hair on your body slowly stand on end. 

“What is that?” 

“A gift, for the little adventurer from Mondstadt.” He says, giving you (what you think has to be) a sly smile. “Are you afraid of oils and creams as much as you are of me?” 

Your brow draws in uncertainty but you don’t get a chance to pick apart what he’s saying to find the meaning in it. Taking up the wiry bristled brush in his other hand, he unscrews the lid from the trinket and dabs the tip into whatever was inside. For a split second you think he’s going to put makeup on you for some inexplicable reason but then — the now smoothed brush looks wet when he reaches it out towards you, and you reel back with a gasp. He remains undaunted though, and you screw your eyes shut with a soft whimper. 

Startled confusion marches through your mind when he just presses the brush into the side of your neck though, and your mouth immediately pops open at how sticky and cool it is. Before you can yelp about the sensation, he drags a harsh line down across the column of your throat, making you shudder so hard you think you’re going to collapse. But then the sweet, cloying scent of myrrh and lavender mixed together floods your nostrils and you snap your head back up in disbelief. Perfume? 

“You look surprised,” He murmurs, reaching for the other side of your neck to draw another stilted line over your pulse. “Do you know what this is?” 

You shift, more than just a little uncertain and ill at ease now. “I … I don’t think I understand.” 

With a quiet hum, he dips the brush into the mysterious substance again. “You will. Give it time, and you’ll soon come to understand everything.” 

You haven’t the slightest idea what to make of that ambiguous statement. 

Struggling to maintain your calm, you watch his hand stretch out for you again but this time it arims towards your chest. You think he’s going to swipe that goopy liquid over the swell of your breasts but, much to your jolting surprise, he drags it straight down over your pert nipple instead. Stomach roiling at the sensation, you make another blithe attempt to lean away from it but just like every other time he follows you easily enough and flicks that bristled tip over the stiffened bud again. Your breath hitches when it almost immediately starts to grow warm and tingly, shooting a disbelieving look down at yourself even as he reaches to do the same to the other. 

“W - what is that — ahhn!” 

“Relax. You’ll feel good in a moment.” 

Somehow you didn’t believe that at all, and you start to tremble uncontrollably there on the floor. But it soon occurs to you that it’s not just nerves making you shake like a leaf. Your tits grow sensitive and flushed against the wafting air, curling to fine, tight points on your chest as the liquid quickly cools. It makes your blood pound harder, your breath come faster, and you can’t help but squirm at the almost painful knot that curls low in your gut. 

Dizzy now, you issue a quiet whimper into the still tent when you sway in a deeply intoxicated manner. “Dear, Archons - -“ 

You cut off with a startled yelp when he pushes you down again but you no longer have the presence of mind to fight it. Laying there twitching, you tip your chin to dazedly watch that massive hand curl around the meat of your inner thigh and pull your legs apart. Suddenly your nudity seems so stark and arousing it makes you gasp, eyes widening when you realize you’re getting wet. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. Your cunt was flooding and you wail an incomprehensible protest when he leans over you to bring the brush towards your defenseless slit. 

“Little adventurer,” Aziz croons, keeping your legs spread under his palm as he teases the tip of the brush over your lips. “You should have stayed in Mondstadt where they don’t have such big men and potent aphrodisiacs to turn your body against you.” 

Sucking in a harsh, rasping breath, you weakly fling your opposite leg up as if to shove at him but you miss by a wide mile and it just smacks back down to the floor, completely useless. It was like you’d been robbed of your motor skills and mental faculties in equal measure. It was hard just to think straight. 

“W — why?” 

Chuckling, he drags his hand down off your thigh to press into the meat of your labia and spread them, fully exposing your clit to the air. “I had fun playing with you earlier even if your little sword was no match for my ax. You still put up a good fight so of course I’d want to keep playing.” The soft haired brush slowly presses into the pulsing cluster of nerves and you go ramrod stiff, mouth falling open as if to scream but nothing comes out. All you can do is lay there, violently twitching, while he sedately drags it up and down, and side to side to draw even more sticky slick out of your body. “Unfortunately you are a very small adventurer and I am much too big for you to take easily. This will help you adjust to my size and even make it less painful too. You should be happy I’m showing you such kindness.” 

Your head positively swims at the explanation, neck lolling bonelessly on the floor of the tent while you desperately try to sort through it all and cling to your cognizance at the same time. It’s no use though. The effects of the drug sweep you up much too quickly and pull you under. You feel like you're drowning in it, your pussy thrumming and squeezing around nothing even when he finally pulls away from your throbbing clit some time later. 

There’s nothing at all you can do, not even protest, when he finds his feet and then leans down to haul you up against him. Clutched to his chest, you hang there in a lifeless, moaning heap while he walks to the opposite side of the tent where he deposits you onto a waiting bed of pillows that gently cradle your body when he sets you down. Paying no mind to your needy, gasping moans, Aziz leaves you there and retreats back to the clay pot you’d seen him fetch water from earlier to clean you with. On a distant, hazy level, you realize he’s going to wash himself next and you know you should probably be thankful for that. Know you should try to take this moment to escape even if it meant running buck naked out into the desert beyond his tent. 

But you just can’t bring yourself to do anything except writhe and twist on top of the mountain of pillows, blithely trying to squeeze your thighs together and rub out the ache between them without the use of your hands. It’s no good at all. Just utterly hopeless when your body was pulsing so hot and so fiercely your limbs didn’t want to cooperate. 

Idly, you think to try straddling one of the pillows so you can grind your cunt against it. 

Weakly, you roll over and attempt to wriggle yourself on top of one — any of them, it didn’t matter, any would do when your need was so great — but you can’t quite seem to manage. All it does is drag your stiff nipples over the fabric and the stitching, and you issue a low, faltering groan when you realize it’s just making it worse. It was hard to breathe. You felt like you were going insane with the need to be stuffed and filled, and stretched and pounded into unconsciousness. 

You’re so caught up in your suffering you almost don’t notice when Aziz finally returns to your side. You feel the pillows shift under you with the addition of his weight and you try to blink away the stupor at the same time that you abruptly realize you’re drooling. Grunting in surprise at suddenly finding that you were in such a state, you lift your head with an owlish blink. 

The effects of the aphrodisiac were starting to lessen, receding at least enough to clear your head by a small margin … 

Before you can celebrate, you feel his hands descend upon your bound wrists and the sensation of those calloused fingers on your skin punches an abrupt groan out of you. Okay, maybe the effects weren’t fading so much as your body was simply adjusting to the sudden, potent influx of endorphins but at least you could formulate a semi coherent thought now. 

You cling to that small silver lining with every fiber of your shuddering being as he gets the rope untied, freeing your arms at long last, and then rolls you over. The room spins for a brief moment but when your eyes focus and you manage to look down they nearly pop right out of your skull. Not only was he completely nude, so massive and thick with muscle it startles a tiny squeak out of you, but he was also rock hard. And much, much bigger than you could have even imagined. 

Somehow the fear of having that huge cock forced into your body seems to chase away a bit more of the muddled daze hanging over your head, and you bring your hands up in an awkward, uncoordinated rush to push at him. But when you jerk your attention up at his face, you stop dead in your tracks. 

His mask was gone. 

Aziz’s eyes were sharp and narrowly shaped to compliment the lean structure of his face, and his eyes … you suddenly forget how to breathe. You’d never seen irises so startlingly amethyst they looked like sparkling jewels. 

He watches your reaction carefully, the intensity of that bejeweled gaze boring into you even as he crawls over top of you to settle between your legs. The demanding nudge of his rigid cock startles you back to reality, and you suck in such a frantic gasp of air it claws on the way down. 

“No, wait - -“

His hand grabs under your chin and forces your head back so he can seal his mouth over yours and cut you off. You go ramrod stiff underneath him, eyes wide and wild even as you lift shuddering hands to weakly press into his chest. Archons, he was huge. The muscle bulges under your palms and tenses, flexing when he shifts against you to line himself up, and the full weight of what’s happening slams into you all at once. 

Visciously, you tear your mouth from his with a warbling, intoxicated shriek. “Please, I can’t take it! It won’t fit!” 

He issues a deep, rumbling chuckle and runs those thick, rough worn fingers across your flushed cheek to make you tremble anew. “You can. Do not fear it, little adventurer. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?” Pausing, he teases your entrance with the blunt head, making you wheeze at the feel of him so heavy and thick against delicate lips. You reel underneath him and try not to hyperventilate, but he just keeps you pinned and mostly immobile under his sturdy frame. Finally, at length, he says, “Shall I show you how far into you I’m going to reach and give you something to truly be afraid of?” 

“Wha - -“ 

Jostling you when he pulls back, Aziz pushes up to put some space between your pelvis and his, and you almost sigh in relief when his cock retreats from your entrance. But then something fleshy and thick slaps down on your lower belly, effectively robbing you of the ability to breathe, and you slowly glance down at yourself in fast mounting horror. His cock stretches across your stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precum in its wake when he nudges his hips closer to line the base up with your cunt and settle into place. 

It feels like the earth itself is opening up under you to swallow you whole. He’s almost long enough to touch your bellybutton, and that was to say absolutely nothing of his girth. His size makes you look small and incredibly petite in comparison, so much slighter than him in every way that you feel more certain than ever that it’s not going to fit. There was no way it would. 

“Right here,” He intones, squeezing at the soft pouch around your middle and digging his thumb in for emphasis. “This is how much of you I am going to take for myself. Are you ready for me?” 

A half strangled sob bursts out of your mouth. “No, no, no, no —“ 

Ignoring your mouse squeak protests, Aziz repositions himself at your entrance and slowly leans into you, sinking into the tight heat of your body one staggered inch of him at a time. You go still as a statue at the oppressive, suffocating sensation, your hands blindly flying up to brace against his broad barrel chest, but you can’t even find the wherewithal to cry out. All you can focus on is the gradual stretch of your body, the way he forces your cunt to spread and make room for him under that stilted pressure and … much to your gaping shock it doesn’t hurt half as bad as you’d expected it to. There was still a pinch of discomfort, your body unaccustomed to taking something so large, but the aphrodisiac seems to have served its purpose. 

Not only were you soaked and pliant with arousal, but your guts were so soft now that he only needed to exert a small amount of pressure to ease further into you. There is no straining resistance, no tearing, no painful  force necessary to claim your much smaller body for his own. It was staggering to realize how little struggle your cunt actually offers up and you stare at the spot between you two with nothing short of dumbfounded fascination. 

Bit by bit, his length disappears inside you — a quarter, a half, two thirds and then … he’s seated in you straight down to the hilt, Aziz loosing a deep, hissing groan when his pelvis finally presses flush to yours. Whimpering, you spasm on his cock, disoriented and a little too shell shocked to do much of anything else. You’d never felt so full before. So stretched right to the limit and the total lack of pain sends your reeling mind spinning in an endless loop, just trying to grasp what was even happening. You never would have thought it was possible if you hadn’t seen it with your own two eyes. 

“Watch, little adventurer,” He murmurs, drawing a piece of you out of your stupor when he bends close to put his forehead against yours, that loose braid swaying forward to tickle your temple. “Watch how I take you and how your body welcomes me in. You are mine now, and this is the proof.” 

Meaningfully, he drags his amethyst gaze lower and, quaking wildly underneath him, you do the same, following his line of sight to look at where you’re connected. The muscles in his stomach flex, abdominals visibly tensing as he ever so slowly draws his hips back to drag against your inner sleeve. You very nearly go cross eyed at the sensation, so deep and unexpectedly pleasurable it almost sends you shuddering right over the edge, but you force yourself to keep watching. To watch how he pauses at the halfway point, his muscular waist swiveling forward to push back in, in, in, further and further until — the spot just below your bellybutton bulges up at the same time his pelvis meets yours again, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 

He really was reaching that far into you. 

And you really had taken all of him. 

Wildly clawing at him for something to cling to, you let out a series of frantic, bleating sounds when he slowly starts to angle back again, watching that bulge in your tummy recede and disappear with the retreat of his cock only to come pushing right back in a moment later. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the spot on your lower belly where he keeps pushing up under the skin at an increasingly quicker pace, repeatedly punching the same spot into a soft, rounded bulge. A low ache starts to build deep in your body and somewhere in the back of your cotton stuffed mind you find the wherewithal to realize how sore you were going to be after this. The aphrodisiac would wear off eventually and you would be left in the aftermath to deal with the aching stretch, the throbbing reminder of how he’d felt moving inside of you and the lingering effects of getting pounded by something so big it felt like it was actively rearranging your guts. 

This was in no way what you’d signed up for when you took on this commission, nor is it why you left Mondstadt. 

It’s at that moment, when he’s working his hips hard and fast enough that a steady plap, plap, plap seems to dominate the space inside the tent that you realize you really did miss it. You missed Mondstadt and you wanted to go home. Soon. Immediately after he let you go. 

He would let you go … wouldn’t he?

⭐

Crossposted: here

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part two

part three: you search in every model's bed for something greater

Steve had been doing his best trying to go back to some semblance of normal after Eddie walked out of his life. It wasn't easy and he spent countless nights dreaming up how he could have handled it differently or made Eddie stay or call Robin immediately and beg her to let him tell Eddie (Steve knew she would have but he hadn't wanted to ask her). He knew he could have done countless things differently but the result probably would have ended up the same. At the end of the day, Eddie didn't trust him and at the most basic crux of everything nothing else really mattered.

He was happy for Nance and Robin though. That was the big secret of it all. Robin wasn't ready to come out publicly and Steve offered to let Nancy stay at his place so that if there was any press it would be tied to him and not Robin. Eddie came over at maybe the worst time before he had been able to clear everything with Robin and Nancy was still sleeping off the jet lag from whatever Eastern European country she was reporting in that month. Steve and Nancy had an on again off again thing as kids when they were both getting famous in their own fields having grown up in the same small town. Steve knew Nance was bigger than him but it still stung when they finally admitted it to each other.

Thankfully, the next project Steve was on he met Robin who was the light of his life and his soulmate. He'd been pretty convinced they'd get married at one point until Robin drunkenly admitted she was gay on the bathroom floor of some random afterparty their heads a little fizzy from the champagne. Their relationship quickly pivoted from romantic to platonic and Steve was more than happy to play arm candy to stave off any rumors Robin was sick of circulating. As the years passed and Robin and Steve's circles melded together, Robin and Nancy started gravitating together and even Steve couldn't deny they were kind of perfect together. He'd happily agreed to lend whatever subterfuge he could to keep the two out of the tabloids. Unfortunately he hadn't really thought about bringing his boyfriend in on the plot until a little too late. Fuck him for thinking Eddie would trust Steve though, right? Steve was trying to be more positive as he didn't want to burst Robin and Nancy's new relationship bubble with his grumpy attitude. Instead he was doing what he normally did after a bad breakup -- wallowing and forgetting it happened.

Tabloids followed him around and accused him of sleeping with everyone including Robin’s secret girlfriend but in reality he was mostly at home only scheduling nights out every so often to give the girls some privacy at his loft. Nancy had convinced Robin to head out to the Hudson Valley to have some alone time outside of Steve's apartment so Steve was using his night at home alone to rot on the couch flipping through channels until he spotted a familiar flash of dark curls hammering away on his guitar apparently playing some new single.

Steve was livid. He would’ve been pissed if he had found out about the song in a more low key way way like scrolling through TikTok or getting a text from Robin but he was fucking livid because he found out about the song when Eddie fucking Munson was on Jimmy Kimmel.

Apparently, Eddie had thought it would be fun to release an unexpected single ahead of his band’s rumored fourth album. Steve knew Eddie had to have seen the tabloid fodder after he started going out again making headlines about how his and Robin’s relationship was on the rocks and Steve was auditioning most of the city to take her place. However, he hadn’t expected for Eddie to believe all of the rumors about him. 

Steve's relationship with the tabloids had always been trying. From his very public breakup with Nancy (who everyone asserted won because she immediately starting seeing Jon) to his "slut era" before "settling down" with Robin and more recently to speculating on his relationship with Eddie and what happened with Robin. Steve and Robin had a pretty long discussion about how to handle Eddie and if she wanted Steve to keep Eddie quiet so they could continue playing up their relationship. Robin had given her blessing but Robin wasn't quite ready to come out to anyone outside their tight nit circle of friends even though Steve and Eddie quickly became inseparable. Eddie had understood when Steve told him about Robin's agent and how it was helpful if there were at least rumors of the two dating even though it couldn't be farther from the truth. While they hadn't been super public with their relationship fans of both Steve and Eddie speculated in comments to pictures and stories the two posted but the boys never confirmed anything other than a few cheeky hearts here and there.

Steve had learned about Eddie because one of this kids he grew up babysitting was a huge Corroded Coffin fan and begged Steve to bring him as his plus one to some award show the band was also nominated at. Steve tried to explain to Dustin that is was not common to just run into famous people while they were heading to the carpet but of course the universe proved him wrong and they were right behind Eddie Munson himself. Dustin never had any sense of social propriety so he went right up to Eddie and introduced himself. Steve had pretty quickly fallen for Eddie's quick wit and how kind Eddie was to one of Steve's kids. Steve hung back in the wings but became enamored with the man from afar. Later when they found themselves at the same 30 under 30 event Robin all but pushed Steve into Eddie to force him to finally talk to him. They pretty quickly fell into the rhythm of exclusivity and from there it was a short road to boyfriends.

Early on in their relationship, Steve had thought Eddie and him had gotten over the hump of his history with the press. When Steve and Eddie had started going out on dates without trying to be coy about anything, there was lot of rumors that Steve was cheating on Robin. It had taken a lot of long nights and talks but Eddie seemed to trust that so much of Steve's public persona was presented by reporters who were only looking for a story. Steve thought they'd moved past believing rumors about each other that the press loved to spin. Eddie's song made it pretty clear Eddie believed every shitty headline or tweet or deuxmoi that had come out about Steve fucking his way across town.

It wasn't like Steve could have even tried to set the record straight with Eddie. Steve had tried to contact Eddie shortly after reorienting a very confused and awake Nancy after Eddie slammed Steve's apartment door. Steve didn't tell Nancy exactly what happened but he did tell her that Eddie broke up with him. She held him as he sobbed and realized each way he had to contact Eddie was gone. He'd blocked his number, blocked all of his socials, turned off any messaging Steve could think of.

Steve was devastated Eddie thought Steve was the man the tabloids presented him as even thought he'd worked really hard to make sure all his found family knew he wasn't that person. Apparently Eddie had forgotten all of that. It certainly wasn't helping that Eddie's song was already a Tik Tok trend and Steve was enough of a masochist to scroll through the sound. Steve found far too many edits of him and Eddie timed to the chorus.

Steve felt like he couldn’t escape it or figure out how to at least tell his side of the story. Anything he said would just make him seem like an asshole for moving on so quickly or trying to cover up for cheating on his ex, so Steve kind of resigned himself to private wallowing.

In the end, it wasn't even really all of that that hurt Steve the most. Steve couldn't help but fixate on that one line.

at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight

Steve was heartbroken that Eddie had already moved on. Steve may have been going out and putting on a smile at whatever club or restaurant he was passing time in that night. As much as the magazines wanted the world to believe Steve was finding a home in a new girl's bed every night, reentering his notorious bad boy era, Steve went home alone or found himself with Nancy and Robin cuddling on his couch. In Steve’s less than proud moments late at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he’d pull up Eddie’s public insta and may or may not have set up a google alert for any references to Eddie or his band. None of that prepared him for the reality of hearing Eddie croon about his new relationship with someone who wasn't Steve.

Steve had been trying to keep the specifics of their breakup from Robin and Nance. He knew they'd both feel terrible and with no real way to contact Eddie it wasn't worth dragging Robin and Nancy down with him. After going down a Tik Tok rabbit hole listening to people say all kinds of terrible shit about him and doubting his sincerity with Eddie, Steve slunk out of his room to where Nancy and Robin were finishing up their Thursday night movie.

"Steve?" Robin asked as soon as she saw Steve wrapped up in his blanket, eyes puffy and red.

"Rob, I need to talk to you about something." Steve sat across from his friends, tucked his knees into his chest and got ready to dive into the reasons Eddie actually left.

part four

@lololol-1234 (we're getting close to the happy ending i promise)

(if you saw this version earlier when i forgot how i had these two fools meet, no you didn't)

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hi Sarah (or Sara? I remember you discussing the h but don't remember which way it's spelled). I hope you're doing well on your break and enjoying September. I have a question - how much schooling did you have to do to become a nurse? I'm considering becoming an elementary school teacher in Norway, which would require me to go back to school for 5 (additional) years. Seems like a long fucking time and i didnt do great the first run tbh. It would be free though. Investment in the future seems like it could pay off, so i guess im looking for inspiration from other ppl who have perhaps made a similar plunge

Hi, anon! I wish I could give you some straight up inspo. Instead, I navel-gazed for a while. Schooling-wise, I already had a (completely unrelated) bachelor's degree so I was able to do an accelerated nursing program after two semesters of community college doing the prereqs. I did struggle in nursing school. College has always been brutal on my mental health and nursing is a hard pivot from my original degree (double major history and english w a concentration in creative writing) (you cannot imagine how many books I read and essays I wrote). It took a little over two years in total.

You don't have to don't have to worry about student debt which is so so wonderful. I didn't have to either, and that's let me be way more adventurous with my life choices. The cost of your education would just ("just") be your time, energy, and the potential money that you could earn by focusing on work instead. I had to stick around in my hometown instead of going traveling with Cyrus. I worked a lot fewer hours than I would if I'd not been in school. I had to miss the live airing of the Jesus Christ Superstar on NBC in order to study for an anatomy test which was genuinely so distressing to me. 2018 was a hell of a year for me. (I aced that test btw. It was such an improvement over my previous test my teacher emailed me a congratulations note with twelve exclamation points.)

All of this while people were constantly talking about how shitty it is to be a nurse and how so many of them leave the field within six months. (Similar to teaching in that way, at least in America.) I was doing work I didn't enjoy for a job I might not stick with. There were a lot of times I resented nursing school for interfering with my life.

I'm still very glad I did it. My degree gave me a lot. On the very practical side, my degree has given me more financial freedom and a much higher earning potential. On the idealistic level, my degree has enabled me to do work that I find meaningful. The work touches a lot of things that I find interesting. My nursing degree has benefited my life, regardless of if I stay in nursing for the rest of my career or move on to something new. I didn't like getting my degree, but I don't regret that I got it.

Maybe it'll go way easier for you, maybe it won't be worth it. When I thought about becoming a nurse, it felt like my life plan clicked into place because it ticked every single need I had for a job. I didn't know if it would work out, but the rewards outweighed the risks. More than that, it was the first plan I had for my future that made me excited. I liked the life I pictured if I was a nurse. I've found that excitement to be rare and precious. If teaching gives you that, I'd strongly consider pursuing it.

Besides, you can always use my last-line defense against school despair: being like "fuck it I'm gonna drop out after this semester" and then keep not doing that. You can bail on stuff! It's rad.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: tardigrades

Last week on Wet Beast Wednesday I covered the largest animals to ever exist on our planet. This week I'm going to pull a full 180 and cover the smallest animals yet on this series. Meet the tardigrade, the internet's favorite micro-animal the is said to be basically immortal. How true is that? Let's see.

(Image: an electron microscope image of a tardigrade. It looks a lot like a potato with eight stubby legs tipped with long claws. At the front is a small, circular mouth. It has no other discernable features. In the background are bits of plant matter that look like seaweed at this scale. End ID)

The tardigrades are 1,300 known species (and probably a lot of unknown ones too) in the phylum Tardigrada. They are also part of the superphylum Ecdysozoa, which are animals that grow by molting their outer cuticles or exoskeletons. In particular, the tardigrades are believed to be a sister group of the arthropods, the group that contains crustaceans, insects, isopods, and a lot of other things. Tardigrades are truly tiny, the largest species reaching a whopping 1.5 millimeters in length, though most species reach no more than 0.5 mm. They have round, segmented bodies with four pairs of legs that end in either claws or suction discs. The body segments consist of a head, three body segments with a pair of legs each, and a caudal segment with the final pair of legs. The first three legs are used for movement while the final pair points backwards and is used for grabbing onto substrate. All of the body segments except for the final one correspond to segments found in the head section of insects. Tardigrades are missing many hox genes, genes that direct the body plan during development. Their ancestors may have had a body plan more similar to insects, but the loss of the hox genes has compressed them into walking heads with a bit of butt. The mouth is tubular and sucks in food. In the mouth are stylets, needle-like structures used to pierce food objects. Once food is drawn into the mouth, a structure called the buccopharyngeal apparatus activates. This is a combination of spines and muscle that acts like an inner jaw that pulls food into the digestive tract. The buccopharyngeal apparatus is distinct enough to be used as a major identifying feature between species. Tardigrades are translucent and many images you've seen of them have false color to show the details or are 3D models based on scanning electron microscope imagery of them. Tardigrades molt their exoskeletons multiple times (up to 12) during their lifecycle. Some species are unable to poop normally and instead all their waste is discarded during the molt. It was formerly believed that tardigrades could exchange genes with each other without mating, a process called horizontal gene transfer that is seen in bacteria, archaea, and other micro-organisms. It has since been discovered that while still capable of horizontal gene transfer, it is quite a bit rarer in tardigrades than we thought.

(Image: an electron microscope image of a tardigrade standing on a bit of plant matter. This one has a closed mouth with a ring of triangular tooth-like structures. It also has two simple eyes that look like black dots. End ID)

The name "tardigrade" means "slow walker", which is fitting as, despite their eight legs, tardigrades have a slow and awkward gait. This is the result of their legs being unjointed, only able to pivot at their connection to the body. Their gait has been compared to that of bears, hence why they are often called water bears and their discoverer, Johann August Ephraim Goeze, called them "kleiner wasserbär", meaning "little water bear". Tardigrades are found worldwide and have inhabited virtually every habitat, from the tops of mountains to the deep sea, from hot springs to the antarctic, from freshwater to saltwater. The one thing they have in common is a need to stay wet. Tardigrades can survive out of water as long as they can stay moist and are often found in mosses, hence another common name: moss piglets. The majority either eat plants or bacteria, but some will feed on smaller tardigrades or other micro-animals. Their famous survivability makes it easy for tardigrades or their eggs to be carried to new habitats by larger animals or other phenomena. Tardigrades are one of the first micro-animals to colonize a new habitat and they are a pioneer species, the first species to colonize a new environment and whose presence makes that environment fore suitable for other species to follow. Tardigrades are a major food source to other micro-animals and larger organisms. Most species have distinct males and females, though a few reproduce through parthenogenesis. In most cases, molting female will lay her eggs in her shed cuticle and males will them fertilize them. Other species have a form of internal reproduction. Males and females will court each other before mating and females will usually allow multiple males to fertilize her eggs. Female tardigrades are typically larger and more abundant than males. Eggs can take up to 14 days (species dependent) before hatching. All tardigrades of the same species have the exact same number of cells as each other. They are also born with the same number of cells they will have as an adult. Their growth is driven by enlargement of the existing cells rather than cellular reproduction making new cells. The lifespan ranges between a few months to a few years, depending on species.

(Image: a color photo of a tardigrade. It is a pale, translucent white, making it hard to make out details. Its body is curved, with the front end pointing at the camera. It has two simple eyes. End ID)

(Image: an electron microscope image of a tardigrade egg. It is round but covered in small pores and conical structures. End ID)

The most famous feature of tardigrades is their legendary durability. It is commonly said that tardigrades can survive just about anything (except for the things that are actually trying to kill them. They are prey to a lot of species after all). Among the things they can survive is extreme heat, extreme cold, dehydration, extremely high and low pressure, exposure to ionizing radiation (that's the scary kind), low oxygen environments, environmental toxins, heavy impacts, and the vacuum of fucking space. While the can survive in extreme conditions, tardigrades are not considered extremophiles. True extremophiles thrive in extreme environments and are negatively impacted by leaving them. Tardigrades can survive in extreme environments, but are negatively impacted and can't survive as well there as they can in less extreme places. The main trait that has allowed tardigrades to survive all five mass extinctions in history is cryptobiosis. Cryptobiosis is the rare ability for an animal to enter a state of dormancy where their metabolic processes come to an almost complete stop. While in cryptobiosis, metabolic activity drops to 0.01% normal and water content drops to 1% normal. In this state, the tardigrade is called a tun. Tardigrades usually enter cryptobiosis in response to arid conditions. One experiment showed that a species of tardigrade could last for at least 30 years in this state and return to normal lifestyle functions when exposed to water. Tardigrades will also enter cryptobiosis in response to low oxygen, toxic chemical exposure, increased or decreased temperature, and excessive salt content in the water. Tardigrades also show extreme resistance to both high and low pressure. They can live in 0 atmospheres of pressure and some species can survive up to 6,000 atmospheres, more than double the pressure at the bottom of the Marianas trench. More interesting is their ability to survive dangerous radiation. They can survive 1,000 times the dose of gamma radiation that humans can. Early tests focused on tardigrades in cryptobiosis and concluded that the extremely low water content of a cryptobiotic tardigrade doesn't leave much opportunity for the radiation to react with the animal. However it was later found that active and fully hydrated tardigrades are still considerably resistant to radiation. Studies into this resistance indicate that tardigrades can very efficiently repair damaged DNA and have unique proteins called Dsup that provides additional protection. Dsup introduced to human cells has provided additional protection against x-rays.

(Image: an electron microscope image of a tun - a tardigrade in cryptobiosis. It is smaller and very wrinkly, with the legs and mouth retracted into the body. End ID)

Tardigrades were the first animals to be exposed to the vacuum of space. They were exposed for 10 days, some in a state of cryptobiosis at the time of exposure and some still active. It was found that they were able to survive the vacuum when shielded from the sun's ultraviolet radiation, with those already in cryptobiosis doing better. Upon being rehydrated, many were able to resume normal life functions and successfully reproduce, though others died after being rehydrated. Those that were exposed to UV radiation fared much worse, with only a few hydrated individuals surviving. The individuals in cryptobiosis had a lower survival rate when exposed to UV than those not exposed to UV and were less successful at reproducing afterwards. Studies of tardigrade's space survival abilities and resistance to radiation could go a long way in helping human space travel. One of the largest dangers of space travel is that space is full of nasty radiation from the sun that Earth's magnetic field protects us from. Some scientists speculate about the possibility of accidentally seeding other planets or moons with tardigrades or other space-resistant organisms. This is a problem because introducing Earth life to other world has the potential to damage any native ecosystems and if we find life in space in the future we don't want to have to figure out if it's something we accidentally put there. While tardigrades could likely survive on other planets, they would eventually die without a food source. Some sources reported that tardigrades may have colonized the moon after an experiment with them crashed. Unfortunately, the moon is not crawling with tardigrades now. It's way too dry for them to exit cryptobiosis even if they survived the crash, which they probably didn't.

(Image: art of a tardigrade floating in the vacuum of space. End ID. Source: University of California - Santa Barbara)

[kairiscorner]

Could you write an angsty hobie x reader where they both get into an argument? Everything is up to you!

ask and you shall receive anon :> i eat angst up for breakfast, lunch, snacks, dinner, and late night snack and dessert. i hope you like this !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

sometimes, you can't make it all better. — hobie brown x reader (angst)

summary: you loved hobie dearly, and you loved how despite how shitty the world was, he kept trying to make it a safer place for you two. but when you see him beat himself up over almost losing you... you can't recognize the boy you once loved in those frightened, hopeless eyes of his. pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader genre: angst. word count: 2,481 author's note: ok, i feel like i haven't been doing enough with my interpretation of hobie in more daring ideas an prompts, so i've wondered what he'd be like in an angsty situation. i hope y'all like it, and i'm sorry if the british pronunciations/slang are awful 😭😭😭

to hobie, it felt like everything was possible with you; like everything began and ended with you to him, that everything wouldn't be anything if he wasn't there for you, to save you, be spider man for you. he had never wanted anything more than to just be there for you, make the world a little better than how it was before you two were together.

he may appear cool and level-headed, a bit of a jokester as well, on the surface–but deep, deep down, in the recesses of his psyche, therein lies a dark void of fear, irrepressible, palpable fear. that fear being that one day, if he slips up, lets go at a crucial moment when he can't handle everything being thrown at him–when he closes his eyes for even a fraction of a second–you'd be gone.

hobie has seen and gone through a lot of unfortunate things in his life, and every time, he gets through it somehow. some may say he's incredibly tough and fortified for handling all that he's been through, all that he's seen, but what doesn't kill you doesn't make you stronger–it makes you question just why it had to happen to you, both the bad... and the good. the good being you, the sole ray of light that shines in his life–the only reason he has to tread carefully and look after himself is you.

to say he was in love with you was an understatement, hobie was completely and utterly smitten, enamored with you. he loves you dearer than dearly, he loves you with a love that doesn't overbear, a love that isn't selfish–he loves you with a love that only he can give you, that nobody else can give quite like he can. he adores you for who you are, for what you can do, for your heart and mind–you were so perfect in every way because you were so flawed and real, and that was the beautiful reality of you that hobie fell headfirst for.

but he can't bear to face that other, pivotal reality that haunts him, that reality being that you were more fragile than him. you were a civilian–an ordinary person that lived an ordinary life; but ordinary people can only do so much to defend themselves from extraordinary threats. he can't stomach the fact that you might not be able to save yourself from a devastating threat that doesn't even want your life, but instead, his. he can't stand to think that you would really be serious about telling him that you'd really die for him.

and tonight... you held yourself to that.

you tried saving him, tried to save him–spider man, who saves others before himself–at the expense of your own life.

it happened in an instant, when he was wounded, vulnerable, and weak. he was going to throttle the villain, but now, it felt like merely throttling the villain who practically pummeled you to the ground would be way too lenient. it was like his heartbeat halted, his whole world stopped, time stopped when he watched you get body slammed by the villain; the villain was doing their job, being evil, hurting whoever they wanted to hurt, to hell if who they hurt is spider man or his partner--and hobie felt like he couldn't even do the most basic job of all that was entrusted to him: keeping you safe.

you couldn't remember a thing after you jumped at the villain, all you could feel now was a complete, total, stinging numbness. it's ironic, isn't it, that when you's supposed to feel nothing, all you can feel is a distraction disguised as nothing; that's what the numbness felt like as you lay there on the hospital bed, incapacitated and immobile. you could still speak, but very weakly, you couldn't raise your arm, nor your hand, nor a single finger on either of your hands. you were still. completely still.

next to you by the bed was a beaten, battered and bruised hobie. he took that villain out, a little more violently than he usually would have, but none of that mattered to him right now except for you and how you were doing. hobie was tormenting himself by looking at you, seeing you stare up at the bright lights above you in a daze, unsure of what happened, why you're here, where you even are... he can barely walk over to you without staggering, not because of his injuries, but out of sheer relief that you're alive.

he was sobbing, and smiling--he was smiling because against all odds, you toughed it out, you lived. "hey, love..." he murmured as he fell to his knees next to you by the bed, clutching your hand that was hooked up to an IV. you weakly glanced over to your side and peered at hobie, who was muttering and kneeling next to you. "hobie..." you whispered his name as you felt his grasp on your hand tighten. he sniffled back his sobs and wiped away the tears in his eyes. he was beyond relieved you were okay, but he felt like this couldn't go on anymore; neither of you could keep seeing each other, it was for your own good. he endangered you, and all because he failed to keep you safe, his mind was a mess right now.

hobie wasn't in the best place when he watched you get thrown into the ground, hearing a loud thud as you hit the pavement below you. you were so soft, so fragile, so easy for his enemies to squash and kill. you couldn't be with him, not anymore, not when your life would always be at stake when he's around you. he clutched your hand and cleared his throat as he shakily got on his knees, his smile now gone from his face as he avoided looking at your face directly.

"i... i have something to tell you." he said as his grip on your hand was loosening, with little strength in your body, you tried to hold on to him, not to let him go--but he let go first. he looked at you in the eyes, and you could see a shadow looming over his eyes as he attempted to conceal all the pain, all the remorse and guilt he was experiencing for as long as he needed to tell you this: "we can't be together anymore. we're done." he murmured, but in that murmur, hobie carried a stinging pain in his heart that merely worsened and ached harder than any wound he's ever received at the hands of his opponents and enemies; or even those of his own allies once.

you stared at him with widened eyes, your eyes were blank but shone with a twinkle, a twinkle that came about when you saw hobie come into your hospital room. now, that twinkle had shone and waned, it died as quickly as it came, and you found yourself in the dark--in an oblivion where light could never enter, where everything that is ever in it gets trapped, confined, bound t never escape. you were lonely, all over again. you were pushed to the side, all over again. you felt an overwhelming grief and pity for yourself, all over again.

"but, h-hobie, i..." you trailed off as you tried to get up, the pain in your recovering wounds prohibiting you from speaking. hobie looked back at you in shame, he couldn't bear to touch you, couldn't even bear to look at you. he loved you, even if you were now scarred and bruised, but he hated how you got all those horrible, horrible marks on you. they reminded him--each and every strap of gauze, every scar, ever bruise, every cut on you; it all reminded him of why you two could never be together. he had to gulp down the rising wails he wanted to let go of in that moment to keep you from worrying any more. he shook his head as he turned away from you. "no. we can't be together anymore." he said with a crack in his voice as he hurriedly headed off to the window and pulled it up, feeling the breeze against his face as he climbed up on the windowsill and pulled his mask down.

"hobie--!" you exclaimed as you tried kicking off the sheets from you to get up and follow you, but instead--in your haste--you accidentally fell off the bed, with hobie's head almost snapping as he sensed you were going to fall--but he still couldn't bear to be near you... what right did he have to be near you again, hold you again, ask you if you were okay when he caused all of this to happen to you?

'they'll be okay... they'll be better off, they'll be better off without me.' he reminded himself internally as he heard you get up on your feet, wobbling and clinging onto the bed frames to support you, feeling his heart break with every sound he heard coming from you trying your hardest to reach him. you rolled your IV with you as you meekly approached hobie. "hobie, please don't do this." you pleaded him as tears started welling up in your eyes. hobie didn't respond, he just sat there, perched up on the windowsill as you sobbed behind him, waiting for him to say something, to do something. "please... this isn't your fault." "don't be ridiculous." he said as he finally made this conversation a two-way one as he turned to face you slightly.

"i'm the reason you jumped at that wanker, wasn't i? if not for me, you wouldn't have... have been confined to that blasted bed, have that fucking thing get hooked up to you, get stitches, wrapped up in gauze, almost die..."

hobie choked at his words when he said that last word, 'die'. his greatest fears, the realities he had put off facing for so damn long were finally realized that moment when you jumped in to protect him, to let yourself be killed in his stead. hobie inhaled, sniffling all the while as he took off his mask and placed his hand over his eyes, trying to concentrate on the right thing to do, parting ways with you. your legs quaked as you walked over to him, but you wanted to be close to him, even when he was trying his hardest right now to distance himself from you.

"love, i did that because i... i love you--" "and that's exactly the problem. you love me. you love me, and because you love me, you got hurt, didn't you?"

he asked you in a sharp tone, one you had never heard him speak to you with before. he removed his hand that was covering his eyes and soon looked up at you. his eyebrows were furrowed, but his eyes carried a different emotion in them. instead of fury and aggression, a frightened hopelessness was seen in those dark brown eyes of his. that fiery passion he had, that brilliant confidence of his had been extinguished; all that was left of him now was a darkness, a darkness that had to be satiated by finally distancing you, 'protecting' you.

hobie put his mask back on and turned back towards the city outside, the city that he would disappear in, hoping to never cross paths with you again--not after this, not after seeing how dedicated you were to him... he can't bear to break you even more, even if you were more than willing to shatter yourself for him. "so that's just it, huh?" you asked aloud as he leaned forward, about to bring his hand out to shoot a web and swing off, far away from you. but he stayed. he listened. he lived in that moment with you for a little bit, let you linger in his life for a few more moments before the inevitable happens. "you're just gonna... swing off, leave me here, forget we were ever together? is this... is this it? do you honestly think you can control what i do? i did that out of love for you, it didn't matter what would happen to me anymore, i promised you that i--" "i'm doing this to save you." he interrupted you as hobie stood his ground and refused to stay any longer.

this was it. this was the fall out. this was the beginning of the end, the entirety of the end between you two.

the tear streaks on your face were drying up, until new tears rolled down your cheeks as you stared at your now ex-boyfriend's back. where spider man ended and where hobie began, you could never find out--and you feared that you never knew the real hobie to begin with, the frightened hobart brown that you had never met before had finally crossed paths with you for the first and last time.

as hobie extended his arm out and shot a web at a signal tower nearby, you spoke weakly in a quieted voice. "you can't always be a hero, hobart. you can't... you can't always protect people like me, no matter how much you want to..." hobie exhaled deeply and slowly nodded at your statement. "i'm well aware." he said in a soft voice as he readied to hop off the windowsill and swing off into who knows where.

"...sometimes, you can't make it all better."

you uttered as you turned your back to him, not wishing to watch him leave you in this cold hospital room. and no matter how painful and searing this moment was for you, you couldn't hate him. even if you got hurt for his sake, got confined to the hospital for him even when he's cutting off all ties with you for what happened after... you can't hate him.

the minute you turned around, he was gone. the wind whistled as it blew a gust of wind into your already freezing hospital room. an orange leaf was left in hobie's stead, must've been carried by the wind and left here. you picked it up as you walked over to it and gazed at the intricate details of the leaf. "it's... nearly fall." you muttered to yourself as you stared off into the distance, trying not to wonder where he could've gone, and instead, think about how different it feels to see orange and yellow leafed trees down the block instead of green.

"change is scary... but i'll get through it." you uttered to yourself as you held the delicate, orange leaf in your hands; a few teardrops fell from your eyes involuntarily, with you being unable to wipe them in your daze. "i'll... i'll get through it... right?" you asked yourself in a croak as you smiled to yourself, with undertones of grief in that layered grin of yours.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @conitagray

[likeawildanimal]

for a book that's supposed to be continuing jean's healing journey, the golden raven sure does miss a lot of important milestones on the page.

why did we not see jean learning how to ride a motorcycle? it was built up in tsc that the freedom and control he would likely feel over his life whilst on the bike would be crucial yet we don't even know how he feels about riding from his pov. we just know that he's in awe of his new bike, it's something he does with cat, and that he suddenly knows how to ride. we find all of that out from jeremy's pov.

kevin convinces jean to finally start actually talking with betsy, which is such a crucial step that jean's been actively resisting, yet we don't see any of those sessions or hear about them. in fact, we only learn that jean followed through on kevin's therapy insistence when jean needs jeremy to drive him to his specialist therapy appointment. does jean consider it a necessary evil? is he finally seeing the merits in it now that he's making progress? we don't even know if jean's feelings towards betsy have changed at all.

jean starts the secondary therapy to overcome his fear of water and, once again, we don't see a single second of the work he's actively putting in. it's not that we need to see every therapy appointment jean has, but the issue is that we don't see any of them at all. we aren't seeing the active effort he's putting in and the determination for progress he's pushing for, which is a pivotal change for him.

as a result of tanner's persistent enthusiasm, jean starts teaching him and a few other trojans ravens drills. considering that jean's becoming more and more overtly repulsed by the ravens lifestyle, shouldn't we know how he feels about teaching the trojans, a team that's becoming increasingly important to him, ravens training methods? how does he feel revisiting the strict training in a teaching role? is he repressing frustrations more than he's letting on? we don't know the answers to any of these questions because, you guessed it, we don't experience any of this extra court time from jean's pov. you'd hope that the more he uses these skills for good with the trojans that he's able to recontextualize them, separating them from the traumas they sparked, but it's all excluded from jean's pov.

jean has his list of things he now enjoys in life, a mantra of sorts that brings him comfort and reassurance. one of which we, yet again, don't even know he added to the list until he's adding a subsequent word. sure, you can see the radiance he feels with the fireworks, but we don't get to experience his thoughts as he adds it to his grounding list even though we'd read him adding all of the other important items to the list. we don’t know his thought process behind adding fireworks to the list at all and instead it’s only implied.

when jean finally voices that he didn't deserve what happened to him in the nest, I honestly wasn't entirely sure what had pushed him to finally believing that truth. yes, the obvious reasons, of course, but the fact that we aren't seeing his resilience in these building block moments means we don't know what newfound strength he's standing on and how solid it actually is.

instead of consistently digging deeply into jean's healing progress, we skip past these crucial, in-process moments and tend to jump to their end point. through jeremy's pov, jean's actions themselves or jean's thought pattern shifts, we find out the results of jean's efforts rather than most of the efforts themselves. so much is implied to have happened off of the page. jean's storyline would be even more effective if we were witnessing each step forward as he builds his new foundation toward becoming his own person.