#since it was clearly logicality coded

[loganslowdown4]

Logan: Did you get the eggs like I asked?

Patton: Even better!

Logan: Wha-?

Patton: *reveals a live chicken* Her name is Fluffy!

Logan: No not- nO NOT AGAIN PATTON THE DOGS WILL EAT HER-

[let-roman-bite-someone]

i know i've said this before but i'm so tired of people acting like Patton is the general embodiment of morality. as if he is the personification of the legal justice system and everything he does must be good and fair™.

folks, Patton is Thomas's morality. remember what Virgil said in the Q&A episode?

this applies to all of the sides. every single one of them.

Remus wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have different types of intrusive thoughts. Logan wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have had different levels of education, different forms of intelligence and different applications of logic.

but the funny thing is, i never see people criticize the other sides for being too representative of their title. they don't reprimand Virgil for making Thomas anxious because that's his job. they don't bash Roman for being a perfectionist. but for some reason, people expect Patton to be a saint who does no wrong.

it's emphasized so clearly in multiple episodes that the sides are the result of Thomas's upbringing specifically. Patton is simply the moral code that Thomas's parents and on a larger scale, society, had taught him.

“Patton was so accepting of Virgil but he couldn't accept Remus or Janus!”

yeah. because it's easier to deal with anxiety than it is to deal with intrusive thoughts. don't get me wrong, anxiety is definitely a serious issue. but Thomas's anxiety never went directly against his morals, if anything, Virgil's perspective aligned very much with Patton's. being anxious about say embarrassing yourself in public or not getting your work done in time is not as morally concerning as having thoughts about murdering your brother.

but Thomas, like many of us, grew up with no one to tell him what intrusive thoughts are or how to deal with them. when Patton was chastising Thomas for having these thoughts, that's just Thomas beating himself up over something he can't control.

the same goes for Janus. Patton had a hard time accepting Janus because Thomas had learned to always be selfless since when he was younger, and Janus was challenging that point of view. when Patton was pushing Thomas to be selfless, that's just Thomas pushing himself and feeling guilty at the thought of focusing on his own needs.

i feel like people think that Patton is actually Thomas's father figure or something. i understand if he reminds you of someone toxic in your life and it can be uncomfortable to watch. but while it's good to relate to the media you are consuming, it's also important to view things in context.

Patton is not a person, he's not an individual who has the freewill to do what he wants. he is only Thomas's morality and what his morals are heavily depends on what Thomas was taught and how he was raised.

Patton cannot control the morals that Thomas had learned. he can only try to implement them in Thomas's life and unless Thomas himself decides to unlearn some of the unhealthy ideals that he has internalized, Patton cannot go against his nature. he can only do what he has been programmed to do, with the knowledge that he has.

[4str0nuts]

DEEP DIVE INTO HORROPEDIAS AUTISTIC CODING : A GIANT ANALYSIS THING

ALTERNATE TITLE IS WHY THE FANDOM SHOULD CHECK OUT HOW THEY TREAT AUTISTIC CHARACTERS

Disclaimer before I go in; i’m using the global translations and the english voice acting as I am on the global server lol. This may affect some things but hopefully not a lot! Also i’m using this video [https://youtu.be/ygAkz4L2AMo?si=elrUeXGompMKYXUJ] for my proof and will provide timestamps!

Horropedia is one of the most loved characters in Reverse:1999 (bc haha funny autistic guy) , yet I literally see no serious posts discussing his character or even going into his character— even at a basic level. I’ve kinda been off to the side observing how the fandom treats Horropedia and it makes me question if people actually like him or some alternate version of him. Yeah sure this is a problem in every fandom but I’m too attached to Horropedia and i’m going to make it everyone’s problem.

There's all sorts of mischaracterisations of him where his autism is reduced to him being an “asshole” and “uncaring”, or that he is some funny reddit meme sona when that’s the case at all! Every other character gets to have serious posts yet when it comes to a very blatant autistic coded character, suddenly no one knows how to act despite the fact the fandom (going off of the twitter fandom here) prides itself on neurodivergency; so I’m here to dump a ton of analysis on Horropedia using ingame sources as proof as well as my own knowledge (as someone who is autistic myself), whilst also debunking mischaracterisations of him. I’m also doing this as I don’t think people treat Horropedias autistic coding seriously, seeing it as silly and thus ignoring all of his character.

Jumping straight in, Horropedia is not an asshole and is actually quite a caring character, even if he doesn’t show it conventionally. To me, it’s quite obvious that he cannot understand people at an emotional level, and always relies on his logical way of thinking no matter the situation; for example, when he broke Blonneys camera, he clearly does not understand why she is mad/upset and instead tries to comfort her logically rather than emotionally. Even when Blonney is very much showing she is mad, Horropedia cannot process that and cannot understand until she actually explains it [Part 5 54:07-57:20]. I can see why people may see it as an asshole move since he tells her to be “reasonable” over the camera breaking, though it is clear that this is another one of his autistic traits as people with autism have a hard time connecting with others’ in an empathetic way(which can come off as being blunt and uncaring) yet no one seems to mention that. Despite this, he still offers her to buy her a new camera once Blonney vents out to Jessica, coming to terms with what he did and making it up to her. [Part 12 2:10:37]

Adding onto the last point, Horropedia shows concern and care multiple times throughout the story. Even if he is bad at comforting people, he still tries to acknowledge what is wrong in regards to the situation. I’m trying to keep this short as I don’t necessarily think this is due to his autism but a cool detail I found with the English voice acting is that his tone gets softer when he’s more genuine (it could be seen as masking but shrug. Not too sure on this one as I'm making this point to show he does care in his own way.) He constantly makes sure everyone is safe and goes out of his way to protect others [Part 4 51:08 , Part 6 1:16:18-1:16:39], which is a small detail I think people gloss over. It’s just nice seeing Horropedia care for others in his own way since I struggle with expressing affection / emotions like him.

Back to his way of thinking, it’s practically plastered everywhere that he thinks in a logical way and takes everything at face value no matter what, which is a trait associated with autism. At the very start of the very event, he even breaks down Vertins joke and still a conclusion was that she wasn’t the person he was looking for (knowing full well she was) [Part 1 11:06-11:50]. Horropedia also explains things at face value— in a basic and straightforward way no matter what it is, which is another example of not truly understanding things at an emotional level! [Part 9 1:42:45-1:43:09]This does not mean he does not consider the consequences of a situation, and Horropedia actively avoids situations where it poses a threat / harm to others. Mentioning this to point out how some people in the fandom treat him like he is stupid?— Despite how he is the basic definition of a nerd with references to it all over his character and voice lines! Yes, he could be seen as careless considering he goes to Green Lake just like that with no approval, but he certainly isn’t oblivious to dangers around him. Horropedia himself explains that he is into horror movies because of how illogical they are(stating how it is like a puzzle), not necessarily the fear of them; so it makes no sense for Horropedia to directly put himself or others in harm's way.

Still relating to his way of thinking, Horropedia uses his horror logic so he can understand situations around him. He directly links back to his special interest to understand things— and to an extent others— better, special interests are a trait exclusive to autistic people! By using his horror special interest, he can understand the world better from his perspective. I don't even need to get examples of this because throughout the Green Lake event he makes references and links to horror movies, basing predictions on what to do in order to survive in the stereotypical like scene of Green Lake. Horropedia is full of reasoning, and despite his “debatable manners” (thanks Sonetto),he is not always too absurd with his predictions. It baffles me that people treat Horropedia like he is some happy-go-lucky kid, running head first into danger; he takes the time to understand a given situation in a way he would understand before doing anything.

Another really obvious thing is that he can’t understand social cues, or the body languages of others at all. Essentially he cannot read the room. The whole “I know the rules of social courtesy” [Part 12 2:19:19] line doesn’t necessarily mean he understands social cues— rules are (usually) based in logic and reasoning, and not emotions. Social courtesy just means the rules of society (or the foundation in this case? eh), and Horropedia knows he HAS to abide by the rules or else he will be in trouble. Something seen as ‘basic’ and ‘simple’ to people considered ‘normal’ by society may be hard to grasp by people who do not benefit from society (autistic people). Horropedia understands the ‘logical reasoning’ of how someone acts but he can’t connect with or understand someone else’s emotional responses. Literally look at most of his interactions with the film crew and Blonney, Jessica even steps in at one point to stop him from making the fight between Jason and Blonney worse [Part 6 1:11:38]; and even then he tries to use logic to break down the situation. Horropedia can’t pick up on social cues for the life of him, including body language and tone.

Smaller point here but I have a feeling Horropedia’s tone is hard to understand to some of the characters. Tooth Fairy couldn’t tell if Horropedia was joking towards the end of the event , where he shows off his “sense of humour”. Nothing much to add here I just found that really interesting…

Ive rinsed out all the notes I’ve taken on Horropedias autistic coding so far…….. feel free to add on more….. I may have gotten some things wrong because I have been working on this for a few hours straight. Surprisingly I still have more to analyse outside of his autism so if people are interested let me know bc i’m desperate .

TLDR: horropedia is autistic thanks for reading.

[ao3cassandraic]

As far as they can

At the end of the Job minisode, Crowley inaugurates Their Side by proclaiming Aziraphale "an angel who goes along with Heaven... as far as he can," parallel to his own stated relationship with Hell.

Only it... doesn't actually work that way. Their exactlies are different exactlies.

Crowley defies and lies to Hell as often as he thinks he can get away with it. He never disabuses Downstairs of their misconceptions about his contributions to human atrocities. He cheerfully lies in his reports Downstairs, something Aziraphale briefly turns on his Baritone of Sarcastic Disapproval about in s1. Crowley even turns evil homeopathic in the latter part of the 20th century, likely in hopes that it will look good to head office while accomplishing essentially nothing. (This, of course, is another way he Crowleys himself, both with the London phone system and the M25.) After Eden, Crowley's default given an assignment from Hell is to see how he can subvert it.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, defies Her and Heaven as little as he possibly can. Sometimes, as with his sword giveaway, his compassion gets the better of his anxiety. Sometimes, as with Job's children in the destruction of the villa, he can try to stay within the letter of the law by leaving the defiance to Crowley.

His default, however, is "'m 'nangel. I can't dis- diso -- not do what 'm told." This comes out most often as respect for the Great/Divine Plan, which to him is sacrosanct. He sounds quite sincere in s1 when he says "Even if I wanted to help I couldn’t. I can’t interfere with the Divine Plan."

Aziraphale quite frequently Good Angels along by parroting Heaven's party line, whether it's "it'll all be rather lovely" or "I am good, you (I'm afraid) are evil" or droning on about evil containing the seeds of its own destruction, or condemning Elspeth's graverobbing as "wicked" (a stance he offers absolutely no reasoned support for, no logic, no "but She said," not a word -- that's very Heaven; most of Heaven's angels have the approximate brainpower of paramecia). Maestro Michael Sheen even has a particular voice cadence -- I think of it as Sententious Voice -- he uses when Aziraphale is thoughtlessly party-lining.

When the angel's conscience wars with his sense of Heaven's orthodoxy but (and this is an important but) he can't feasibly resist whatever's wrong, he offers strengthless party-line justifications he clearly doesn't agree with (as with the "rain bow" in Mesopotamia) or resorts to a Nuremberg defense: "I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crowley!" Once or twice, he's even vocally aware of Heavenly hypocrisy: "Unless… [guns]'re in the right hands, where they give weight to a moral argument… I think." This isn't Sententious Voice. It's I-can't-disobey-and-I-hate-that voice.

But at base, the angel prefers obedience (not least because it's vastly safer), and he'd rather have someone else do his moral reasoning for him. Honestly? Pretty relatable. I know lots of people like this -- hell's bells, I've been this person, though I grew out of it somewhat -- and I daresay you do too. Moral reasoning is hard and often lonely (since it can be read as self-righteousness or even hypocrisy) and acting as it dictates can hurt. Nobody would need ethics codes if The Right Thing was also invariably The Convenient Thing.

Many GO fans find these Aziraphalean traits frustrating! Especially his repeated returns to parroting Heaven orthodoxy! Sometimes I do too! (Not least because I'm rather protective of my own integrity, and it's cost me quite a few times. I'm well-known in professional circles for picking up a rhetorical spear and tilting at the nearest iniquitous windmill. I often lose, but I sure do keep tilting. Every once in a blue moon I actually win one.)

The key, I think, to giving our angel a little grace on this (beyond honoring the gentle compassion that is pretty basic to his character) is noticing how often he can be induced to abandon an unconsidered Heavenish default stance. As irritating as his default is, and as consistently as he returns to it, it's not really that hard to talk him out of it. Crowley, of course, is tremendously good at knocking Aziraphale away from his default -- he's had to be. But Aziraphale even manages to talk himself away from his default once, in the form of the Ineffable Plan hairsplitting at the airbase!

I think the character-relevant point of the Resurrectionist minisode is making this breaking-the-Heavenish-default dynamic as clear as the contents of the pickled-herring barrel aren't. "That's lunatic!" Crowley exclaims, when Aziraphale Sententious Voicedly parrots Heaven's garbage about poverty providing extra opportunities for goodness. Aziraphale isn't quite ready to let go yet, replying "It's ineffable."

But Dalrymple (who, I think, parallels Heaven, perhaps even the Metatron -- there could be something decent there, but it's buried too deep under scorn and clueless privilege for any graverobber-of-souls to dig it out) manages to break Aziraphale's orthodoxy by explaining the child's tumor.

Once released from his orthodoxy, Aziraphale can't be trusted to handle moral reasoning well; his moral-reasoning ability is not-uncommonly (though not always) portrayed as vitiated. When he gives Elspeth the go-ahead to dig up more bodies, his excuses are just as vacuous as they were when he was convinced of her wickedness. He knows that he's crossed Heaven's line, too, and just as at Eden it's worrying him. That's why he has to talk to Crowley to nerve himself up to help Wee Morag... only he spends too much time talking, and it's too late.

But Crowley can then talk him into bankrolling Elspeth toward a better life. Aziraphale doesn't even put up any fight, both because he's compassionate and because Crowley is temporarily taking the place of Heaven (he's even Heaven-sized and staring down at them!) as the angel's moral compass.

S1 has an even worse example of Aziraphale's moral wavering, actually. Crowley yells "Shoot him, Aziraphale!" and Aziraphale sure does try to murder Adam. Again, he's adopting his morals from the nearest (and loudest) convenient source. Madame Tracy, thankfully, has enough of a moral backbone to save our angel from himself and Crowley.

(With my ersatz-ethicist hat on: this is a fight between utilitarianism and deontology. Crowley is the utilitarian, which is actually a bit of a departure for him, but he's admittedly desperate. Madame Tracy is the deontologist: One Doesn't Kill Children. Aziraphale is caught in the middle.)

I wouldn't be surprised if part of the reason we start s3 with Aziraphale and Crowley separated is so that Aziraphale finally has to do his own moral reasoning, without Crowley's nudges. I don't think it'll be easy for him. It will absolutely be lonely. And it may well hurt.

But I will watch for it, because it's how he will become his own angel, independent of Heaven and even of Crowley. And he must do that.

[paper-starz]

WELCOME HOME THEORY 2: The Theory Strikes Back

Good evening, gentlemen, gentleladies, and gentlethems,

Or Good night

Or even good morning,

Whenever you are, I humbly come to you all with another theory.

This time, its our favorite morally questionable sentient house, Home!

So strap in, buckle up, cause I have STUFF TO SAY.

THIS WILL BE VERY LONG AND IT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE UPDATE!!

Alright, so to begin, what the HECK is going on with Home?

They are one of the most mysterious characters in Welcome Home, we don't know much if not anything at all. And what we do know... wellllll......

Yeah definitely not menacing at all.....

The only thing that we do know of Home is well… ^ This and the fact that it and Wally are sentient.

Ok, let’s backtrack. HOMES SENTIENT???

Yep! While it was implied in the first update that it was aware of us, this handy-dandy audio clip confirms that Home (like Wally) is aware of “You” (Whoever this “You” person may be. Either literally us or the Question Answerer).

Now, what exactly Home is saying is still up for debate. Some say that it’s “Help Me” while others say it’s “Hello”. (It’s incredibly hard to know what’s exactly dots and dashes with Homes banging) but one thing is for sure, Home is communicating with us.

“AHHHH HOW SCARY! THE CREEPY DEMON HOUSE IS GONNA KILL US” D:

And that’s where you’re wrong, dear viewer. While Home is clearly morally dubious and incredibly suspicious, like Wally, I don’t think it’s necessarily evil.

Take for instance this link right here. It’s an honestly cute lil audio of Wally singing to Home. But while that is adorable, it’s the ending that I really wanna focus on.

Wally: …Do you like it? Home: *Creaks* (it’s Morse code again! Spells out IDO) Wally: Thats good… I think…

Ok why did I bring this old little clip up? Oh ya know… no reason… OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT WALLY CAN’T UNDERSTAND HOME ANYMORE!!!

Ok, I know whatcha thinkin’ “Why not anymore?”

Take a listen at another audio clip, this time it’s a secret one!!

The clip is about Barnaby and Home having a conversation with one another! But if you listen real closely… Home is not speaking in Morse code! It’s their own lil Home language, still consisting of creaks and bangs… yet Barnaby doesn’t seem to have any trouble understanding Home.

So how come Wally can’t understand Home and yet Barnaby can?

It’s because Wally’s sentient now. He’s getting more real. More human. Cartoon logic does not apply to Wally anymore! To us, Home is speaking in gibberish! Since it’s gibberish to us, then it’s gibberish to Wally!

And Home knows that, so it does the next best thing and tries using another language to hopefully communicate better. Now that I’m listening to the first audio clip again (so-below), it makes sense why Home is “speaking” slowly. It’s not used to communicating that way. It’s hard to tell their dots from their dashes, their bangs from their creaks, and it’s pauses are sometimes too long and too short at the same time! In a weird way, Home kinda has an accent when speaking in Morse code.

It’s kinda sweet just how hard Home is trying to communicate with Wally and us. Makes ya forget that Home has a weird portal and a flesh heart inside of them.

“WAIT WHAT?!?” (<- That’s you)

Yeah, remember when I said the more sentient something gets the more “real” they get?

Yeah, it’s also been happening with Home too. Go on any doodle audio file, and you can hear assumably Home’s heart beating away. You can hear it very clearly in this audio right here! I doubt the Playfellow Workshop made Home with a literal BEATING heart, but hey, Home is where the heart is I guess…

And now, the portal thing.

“Since when did Welcome Home ever had a portal??”

Oh since the very beginning actually!

First updated “portal” picture

Many people (including yours truly) theorized that this swirly spiral was a portal to the real world. It seems that we have more evidence to support this theory too!

First updated portal (shown left) and second updated portal (shown right)

Hey…. Wait a second…. Is it just me or it the portal getting…. Bigger?

The first update it was small, even the black goo wasn’t as bad… on the second picture, the spiral is INCREDIBLY large, and now the goo is coating the trees.

Well, isn’t that ominous.

"But wait. If Home has a portal... where is this portal even going?"

Both portals have the same black goo surrounding it, the same white eye in the center and the same swirl.

It's going to the Restoration team. And look at where the portal is placed. It's on the ceiling. "As above"

and the one in Welcome Home is "So below"

So perhaps the portal in Home is on the floor... This CANNOT be a coincidence I swear!!

With weird goo covering everything. And like, thats not all!

If you compare the items that the Restoration team uploaded onto the site in the first update and on the second update, you'll notice that the items have grown significantly larger.

At first, it was just envelopes with paper crammed inside of it. As if the person was trying to cram in as much information as possible. It isn't neat.

About us page: All of the paper materials tucked away inside the envelopes we have received are usually crammed together and covered in paint and ink.

Now, in the second update, the items have grown larger.

These items are much larger than mail, and I believe it also has something to do with how much bigger the portal has gotten.

Pretty soon, we might have full-grown puppets jumping in. But now that begs the question... Why is Home doing this?

Well, I think it's because Home really wants to help Wally.

As you inspect the website, there's a bunch of evidence that Wally is growing increasingly desperate for some other kind of sentient connection. It's been growing so much that it starts to get worrying...

Let's go back to the conversation between Home and Barnaby, notice anything weird? Not really? Well, I noticed that every bug audio file was in the perspective of Wally. Here, Wally is just staring at his half-finished painting, even Barnaby comments on this and finds it odd that Wally stopped painting.

It looks to me that Wally was dissociating. There, but not really there. He's been disconnected from reality because it feels unreal to him.

And Home sees that. As soon as the conversation turns to Wally, Home goes dead silent. When Wally still does not respond, Home releases a series of quick creaks and bangs to try and get Wally's attention. It doesn't work. Once Barnaby says Wally's name, it snaps him out of his dissociative state.

And Home is worried about Wally.

It gives a whole new look to the infamous "so-below" image.

Home isn't looking at Wally, it's looking straight at us. Eyes shaking as Wally seems like he's begging. Home doesn't look malicious here, Home looks like it's begging us to do something to calm Wally down because it physically can't anymore.

Home and Wally don't have a lot, if not any facial expressions at all. And shaky eyes in cartoons are a good indicator that someone is scared.

And if Home (in this link) is saying "Help Me", then no wonder! Heck, even the freaking disk is shaking!

Home is reaching out to us for help because it can't comfort Wally anymore and I don't know about you but that is SAD.

Two puppets that recently gained sentience can't even get the comfort out of each other because they can't communicate anymore :(

So, all Home can do is wait and watch Wally.

And if help won't come to you, well, having a handy-dandy portal is very helpful!

You can go to the help instead.

[thebusytypewriter]

hello hello congrats on the followers!! for the event could i request a long kamukura x reader fic where he’s basically baby duck imprinted on reader? i imagine that after being locked in a cell and mistreated by hopes peak even an iota of basic human kindness has him clinging

YIPPEE I've been brainrotting about this one for AGES I'm so sorry for the wait anon!! I'm also sorry that you were probably expecting fluff with this and while there is some, uhhhh........... angstnohappyendOKAYENJOYBYE--

No, I’m not falling for you

So please have mercy on me

The night of the Tragedy—the first one—you were there. That was something Izuru Kamukura didn’t expect.

You weren’t exactly there, not in the classroom where it all went down; things would’ve been much different if you were. No, you were some Reserve Course student who’d found their way just outside of the Main Course gates past curfew.

In fact, it was well past that point, nearly midnight by then. Enoshima had yet to return from her place in the security office, Ikusaba likely with her. This left Kamukura alone outside to ponder what had just transpired.

The gruesome deaths of the thirteen Ultimate students replayed over and over within his perfect memory, everything from gunshot to impaling to chainsaw. He’d expected each and every one of them to turn away from Enoshima’s “motives,” since innocent lives logically outweighed petty hearsay, no matter how damaging it would be.

Such intense emotion on their faces when first attacks were made… He couldn’t understand it.

Wind whistled past his stony face as he strolled, the force tossing around his hair in every direction. Even if he had the capacity to care about it, he wouldn’t. There were far more pressing things to worry about.

The sound of rubber soles on stone alerted him to an approaching individual, so Kamukura swiftly moved behind one of the few trees lining the outer wall and watched.

You were far out of dress code for a Reserve Course student, but he figured that you didn’t care with it being after hours. A large hoodie covered you, engulfing your upper half in the softest fabric he’d ever seen, and your yoga pants were just as large and cozy-looking. The only thing that indicated you as part of the Reserve Course was the student ID faintly peeking out from under your collar.

He could see the bags under your eyes from his place a dozen feet away, and the slouch in your walk alerted his health-related talents of your likely insomnia.

“Hello?” you called out, almost timidly, not too soft to go unheard but not too loud to alert any remaining security. “I was just out for a walk when I, um, heard you. I know it’s late, I just want to make sure you’re okay. It’s not a good idea to leave Main Course grounds after dark, okay?”

Kamukura faintly wondered if you’d ever had a chance of being an Ultimate regarding empathy or safety. It would suit you.

“I go here,” you continued, “so don’t worry, I just want to help.”

His nail lightly scratched at the tree’s bark in contemplation. Two abnormal events in the same night… Perhaps he couldn’t let that go.

Letting his definitive steps announce his presence, Kamukura stepped out and into the dull light of the street lamps. He said nothing and simply blinked at you.

You inhaled sharply, clearly startled as you caught sight of him. There was only a brief moment of panic in your eyes before it switched over to concern, your gaze locking on something just below his own, slightly to his right. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Ah. In the excitement of your arrival, he’d forgotten about the bullet graze wound across his cheek. He raised a hand and felt around the area, unsurprised to find it mostly still wet with blood. “And why would you be concerned about me? You’ll get nothing in return.”

“Nothing in…?” Your brow pinched further, now from both concern and confusion. “Dude, you’re bleeding. Like a lot. Like you might need stitches.”

“No. I’ll apply some disinfectant shortly, and it’ll heal just fine. You should be more concerned with your own safety, being out this late at night, instead of fussing over a stranger.”

“I-I’m not fussing,” you argued, cheeks now puffing out in your annoyance.

You reminded him of a chipmunk.

Cute.

Something in him halted at the thought before reassuring himself that it was simply fact. There were no opinions within him. You were being kind to him, that was all. It was… unfamiliar.

Unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

“Oh!” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. “How rude of me. I didn’t even introduce myself.” With a statement of your name—something he already knew from observing your student ID—you extended a hand while asking for his own.

In a handful of milliseconds, he considered what to tell you. He could tell you nothing and walk away, leaving you out of the insanity but leaving this odd new itch behind. He could tell you Kamukura, but there were far too many things attached to that name on Hope’s Peak campus. You were Reserve Course, not stupid. 

“Call me Izuru,” he stated. “For your safety, I’ll leave it at that.”

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. “Ah… okay? Nice to meet you then, Izuru.”

“You as well.”

“Aaaand your reason for being out here…?”

“Nightly walk.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but you didn’t need to know that. “I was in the process of returning to my quarters when you appeared. I am in no danger, I assure you.”

You nodded, hesitant but understanding. “Gotcha. Well… just be careful, okay? There are some real weirdos out here at night.”

The irony of your statement almost made him laugh. Almost. “I understand, thank you. Would you like an escort back to the Reserve Course dormitory?”

“Oh, uh, no thanks. Pepper spray’s got my back.”

“If you insist. Good night, then.” Kamukura gave the slightest of bows before turning to reenter the Main Course grounds and rendezvous with Enoshima. Your return of the phrase met his ears, but he continued on.

He tried not to feel your gaze boring into his back as he did so.

He tried not to look back when he heard your footsteps retreat.

Izuru Kamukura failed for the first and second time that night.

‘Cause it’s not romantic, I swear

I’m not gasping for air

After moving from one underground bunker to another, Kamukura quickly found himself to be once again bored out of his mind. The only thing that kept his attention, that lingered in his mind, was you.

He’d never seen your face among the rioters from newsfeed alone, leading him to the conclusion that you were abstaining from it all. You were safe, presumably. Given how kind you were to him when you met, he decided that you deserved it—the safety from Despair. Someone like you needed to be protected.

And yet, he still thought about what it would be like for you to stay in that bunker with him. Kamukura wasn’t alone there, of course not; among its occupants was Enoshima, Ikusaba, Mitarai, and the nurse that was dragged in—Tsumiki. Of these, Enoshima was the only one who engaged in conversation with him, as one-sided as it was, and as annoying as she was.

Despite himself, despite his programming, Kamukura missed you.

He knew that Enoshima had noticed his change of demeanor after that night. He knew that she’d look into what happened, badgering him until she inevitably gave up.

What he didn’t know was how invested she’d be in the situation.

In the midst of his purusing old documents within the bunker, he was met with the sound of Enoshima’s delighted hum growing closer… then farther. It was odd. There weren’t many rooms in the bunker, and there were even fewer rooms that Junko Enoshima herself would enter. If they were dirty, she sent Ikusaba in. If they were hazardous, she sent Tsumiki in.

So where was she going?

Damn it, his interest was piqued.

Cautiously and quietly, Kamukura followed the Ultimate Despair down a corridor he’d never seen her traverse before. She hummed the whole way, a slight bounce in her step, before stopping at a closed iron door. It had a small square window at head level, but that seemed to be the only way one could see in or out of the room. Enoshima slid the massive bar lock out of place and pushed her way inside, letting the door close behind her.

He stalked up to the solid barrier and peered through the window, careful not to let more of himself show than what was unavoidable. As Kamukura’s gaze settled on the pigtailed frame he’d watched enter, her voice met his ears.

“Just checkin’ on ya, sweetheart! Can’t have you dying on me just yet, right? You just got here!”

Then, a second voice followed hers, one that made his blood run cold.

“I-I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you stammered, teeth audibly clacking together in the cold concrete room. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why you brought me here, I haven’t done anything wrong—”

“Of course not, silly!” Enoshima strode forward in faux contemplation, manicured hands clasped behind her back. “Consider this a… witness care program. We take care of our witnesses!”

With the Despair’s movement, Kamukura was able to get a full view of you. You were still in your pajamas, just a tank top and fuzzy pants, implying that you’d been abducted either in your room or within the dorm in general. Your feet were bare and pale—borderline blue—against the gray floor. (He understood then why you were shivering.) From that angle, he was able to notice your hands wrenched behind your back as you sat by a pole, and he deduced that Enoshima—or maybe Ikusaba—had tied you to said pole to restrict movement. How cliche.

“Witness care?” You blinked, fluorescent light sparkling in your eyes. “So you’re protecting me then?”

“Well, aren’t you just a little ray of hope?” Enoshima reached out and pitched your cheek with enthusiasm. “Cutie pie! I could just eat you up!” Her grin dropped abruptly, and Kamukura saw a few little beads of blood spring up on your skin where she held you. “…And then I would immediately vomit. Your gross little rainbows and sparkles make me sick, y’hear me? What the hell does a god like Kamukura see in a worthless Reserve Course chump?”

Your brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, who’s… Kamukura? Like, the founder of Hope’s Peak?”

“No, silly,” she snorted. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. The one you met a few days ago. What exactly did he say his name was?”

He watched your mouth open to answer, then slowly close as you appeared to connect the dots she’d presented. Your response came out quiet and disbelieving. “…Izuru.”

Enoshima’s free hand flew up in mocking celebration. “Give the kid a prize! This might come as a shock to you—who am I kidding, it so will—but the Izuru Kamukura you talked to is a lab experiment gone horrifically right. He’s a god among men, the Ultimate Hope. And that makes it all the more confusing as to why he’s chosen to latch onto you of all people. Kinda silly if you ask me.”

Much to his odd delight, all traces of fear left your face at the statement, and you snarled at her. “Well if you admire him so much, then why does it sound to me like you’re doubting his judgment? I’ll be sure to let him know when I see him next. Whose word will he believe—mine or yours?”

Enoshima’s hand ripped away as she recoiled. “Ugh! God, you’d get along really well with the know-it-all detective in my class. Keep holding your head up like that, and you’re ten times more likely to get smacked by a bat. It’s just statistics!”

The twitch of your brow betrayed your returning terror.

“Anyway,” she drew out, “I wouldn’t get comfy, m’kay? Even though you’re here as a present for my beloved Kamukura, I still have an agenda. Maybe look up the phrase ‘take care of’ in the dictionary! Oh, wait, you can’t do that here. Hm! Your problem, not mine.”

Kamukura ducked out of the window just as Enoshima turned, forgoing the remainder of the conversation to preserve his assumed innocence. In his brisk return down the hallway, he felt an odd tingling sensation rising from the midst of his throat all the way to his skull. It reminded him of an ant colony, one that disturbed the neutrality within him.

He then noticed how tense his brow had been the entire time. How clenched his fists were. How much he itched to burst through the door and rescue your kind self from Despair incarnate.

Some Ultimate Psychologist within him ticked off some boxes and raised a finger to share the new discovery, but he ignored it.

He had to.

The Ultimate Hope did not get attached.

I want you to be here, but please don’t come near

‘Cause even though I’m pretty sure my head’s exploding

I’m not ready for hand holding

Kamukura was attached.

Within the couple of weeks between his discovery of your presence—when he was sure that Enoshima and Ikusaba weren’t in the bunker, and Mitarai and Tsumiki were stationed in the former’s workspace—he often found himself visiting you.

The first time he made an appearance and explained what he could, he’d been expecting your immediate response.

“So you’ll let me go?”

He shook his head. “As much as I am of the mind that you should be given your freedom, there is a strong chance Enoshima may just hunt you down again and kill you. A far from ideal outcome, wouldn’t you agree?”

You did, and he was relieved.

…What?

Ah, yes. That was the recurring problem around you; Kamukura found himself feeling things. At first, he was convinced that he could become desensitized by visiting you more. It only made things worse. He got to know you then, all your hobbies and quirks and everything that made you unique in his eyes.

Not to mention your kindness. God, all the harsh interactions with immoral scientist after immoral scientist made him realize how truly important you were.

You invaded all of his waking thoughts, and Kamukura expected that he was doing a good job at hiding it.

He was created to have perfect judgment.

It’s not love, I swear

“Oh, Kamukura darling! I have a surprise for you!”

He let himself sigh as he turned from his absentminded file browsing to meet Enoshima’s wide grin. “I have no interest in your presents.” Not to mention he already knew to whom she was referring.

The grin flipped on a dime to a childish pout. “You don’t have to be so mean about it! And here I thought you’d actually like this one.”

“If you’re going to pester me about this surprise regardless, then I suppose I have little choice. Get on with it.”

Enoshima immediately perked up again, much like a dog whose master said the word ‘treat’ aloud. (What a hellish dog the Ultimate Despair would make, Kamukura thought to himself. He’d have to tell you that one later.) “Okie dokie! You’re gonna love it.”

“Doubtful. I am incapable of love.”

Incapability, the Ultimate Dictionary part of him said, is another word for inability, which is the lack of ability to do something. Denial is an unwillingness to accept that something is true.

He stubbornly shoved the thought away and followed behind the bouncing girl.

Love clouds even the most objectively perfect judgment.

They continued on to a section of the bunker that Kamukura was slightly less familiar with, as it was usually occupied by the other inhabitants, and he wasn’t one to socialize with them. (He wasn’t one to socialize with Enoshima, either, but she forced it upon him.) At some time, he’d heard the sounds of panic and stress echoing from that same direction, but it was her business, not his. It appeared that it was about to be his business, though.

Enoshima led him into an offshoot of the main hallway, her deranged humming increasing as they moved. It was never a good sign when she was so pleased.

The distorted music he’d listened to her perfect met his ears, laced with the edited screams of Ultimate students. Why was she playing the Despair-inducing video? Was there a “guest” he wasn’t aware of?

…Wait.

There would be.

If he wasn’t already aware of them.

“You’ve been so pressed over the battle of Hope and Despair, and I wanted to help you along—” Enoshima pushed a door open, and the sounds became clearer— “so you get to see Despair in action!”

A dim concrete room greeted the two of them, bathed only in the flashing lights and red glow of her video. In the center, a single chair sat askew with what appeared to be leather straps dangling from its arms and legs. The quick inspection with his Ultimate Analyst talent revealed a lack of tears in the leather outside of the usual signs of torture—fraying and scuffing. The occupant didn’t escape their containment, but they were released.

Speaking of, Kamukura’s gaze fell upon a figure settled on the floor, head pressed against their knees. It was reminiscent of a traditional Japanese deep bow—zarei, that is—but they were tense, shaking. Their hands dug into their hair and pulled against their scalp in this panicked manner, and that wasn’t even the part that set him off.

This figure, the victim of Junko Enoshima’s Despair-inducing video, was you.

“Turn it off.”

“Eh?”

His fist closed around Enoshima’s throat and tugged her close in an instant, dragging a garbled noise of surprise from her. “Turn the video off, or I will do it myself.”

Her eyes were wide at this new display, one he himself was quite unsure about, and she burst out in startled laughter. “Woooow! Okay, Mr. Assertive! It’s done the job anyway. This was mostly just for theatrics and funsies, to give a little pizzazz to your present—Hey, are you even listening?”

Kamukura was not. Oh, how he thought about bashing in her head at that moment. It would be quick and effortless on his part, ultimately ridding the world of her sick plan. But Enoshima wasn’t his priority; he was already crossing the floor toward your crumpled form, an uncharacteristically-loud heartbeat pounding in his ears. Odds of your being unharmed were slim, to say the least, and only dropping every second you didn’t move, but he called upon his Ultimate Luck to combat them.

Pristine black dress pants rubbed against the concrete as he settled on his knees next to you. Kamukura’s hand hovered over your back while he debated on the best course of action. What would he do if you were lost? Could he bring himself to hand you over to Enoshima, or would he go directly against her to repair a broken mind? Was it even possible for him to do such a thing?

Might still be in shock, he reminded himself. It was entirely possible that Enoshima had been bluffing. You were fine.

You had to be.

He let his hand run over your spine once. Twice. You remained, head pressed to your knees, though you shuddered at the touch.

Just ahead, the Despair-inducing video clicked off. Finally. He shot a glare at Enoshima and, by virtue of her sudden appearance, Ikusaba. Additionally, Tsumiki appeared to be peeking in from the doorway, and her twisted smile did nothing to calm his anxieties.

…Anxieties? The Ultimate Psychologist in his head once again raised a finger to say I told you so, but he ignored it.

Kamukura called for you, quietly at first. When he received no answer, he tried again, louder.

Something finally spilled from your lips, unintelligible and hushed. He wondered for a moment if what he felt at the sound was hope, but it quickly snapped away as your garbled noises continued and then transitioned into an objectively worse sound.

You were laughing.

No, you were crying.

It was both. You were hysterical.

Finally, finally, you sat up, and the “no signal” screen previously playing that maddening video kept your face under an eerie red light. The color illuminated the teartracks down your cheeks, and his heart clenched. Your gaze met his, and it sank.

Those kind eyes, the ones that made him feel warm, feel anything… were hazy and unfocused. The smile that set off the butterflies in his stomach, however few they were, twisted with insanity.

Tainted.

She’d broken you.

You. The one good thing in this spiraling world.

Kamukura cupped your cheek as you giggled something about his expression. He didn’t care to listen. He ran through the possible ways of repairing your mind and found that the list was both shorter and less possible than he’d initially thought. Human beings are fragile creatures, he reminded himself. You can’t hold one too tightly, or else it’ll hurt more when they break.

Perhaps this wasn’t what Enoshima had meant by seeing her work in action, but it got the point across.

His tears fell alongside yours.

It might be closer to Despair . . .

[ckret2]

Hi! Love your bill fic<3

I'm sorry if you answered this already, but Would Bill be able to open gates, because I would think he could just think of them as 'pieces of fence that open', but again that's like loosely what doors are. So could Bill think normal doors(like doorknob swinging doors) as something like 'pieces of wall that open', 'gates of wood' or 'weird vertical roof lids', would that work or would trying to make a definition for the concept of doors not work?

Also I don't quite know if this is a spoiler, but does Bill's native language/text only require two different colours or do the colour change the meaning of the text?

Gates are definitely a kind of door, and—much like how the spell includes windows—gates clearly perform an identical enough function to doors that the spell probably internally specifies "and yes this category of object is obviously a door."

Yes, if Bill can convince himself that doors aren't [object in the internal mental category of what we perceive as doors], he could open one. Stating "a door isn't a door" is insufficient; it requires believing in your heart that this thing isn't conceptually a door. But looking at a door without mentally understanding it as a door is like trying to focus your attention on a written word without reading the word. Bill "lie until you can't remember what's a truth and what's a lie" Cipher has a bigger advantage at that than most humans, but even for him it's difficult. He's only able to use the "roof lids" trick when he's unconscious and can apply Dream Logic to the situation, doing something similar with door-doors would be even harder.

Here's my post about his native language! tl;dr the colors are irrelevant, there just have to be two, a "lighter" one and a "darker" one.

With the release of TBOB, I've decided his written language comes in two forms: a fancier "high" script and an easier "low" script. The color code used in TBOB is the "high" script, and it's fancier because you need to switch between at least* 26 different colors to write it, meaning it'd be a pain to write out by hand. The "low" script only needs two colors, Light and Dark, so it's a lot easier to write by hand.

(*"At least" because I'm assuming that Bill's language isn't actually literally English except it's written in colors, what we see in the book is just an approximation of how his language looks but his actual language would have its own words/letters/etc that don't match the Latin alphabet.)

The low script takes up a lot more space (since it could take 3 dots/dashes to write a letter that could've been represented by a single dot in high script), so it's only for handwriting; for printed documents (like books & newspapers), formal documents (like contracts), and digital documents (anything on a computer or typed & printed from a computer), the high script is used since it's easy to type out. The high script is probably hell for colorblind shapes.

[weirdmarioenemies]

I am going to like totally finally finish ranking the Mario galaxies today. Stop Me.

Thank you for you're patience. We can talk about the top 5 galaxies now

I'm not gonna bother with any prelude, you've waited for this for like years now I know you want the Goods so here you go!

5. Blue Grass Galaxy

Tier: S+ Debut: Super Mario Galaxy 2

Blue Grass Galaxy is quite possibly the most elusive galaxy in the series. It was shown off briefly in the first ever Super Mario Galaxy 2 trailer, but when the game came out, it seemed like it was nowhere to be seen... Not even datamining could find it!

But as it turned out, we just weren't looking hard enough, because if you manage to grab every Green Star as Mario in a single sitting in under two hours without losing a single life, and then beat the Perfect Run, also without losing a single life, you unlock... A series of Red Stars for each Galaxy! And once you collect all of those in under an hour as Luigi without losing any lives, once again followed by another perfect Perfect Run, you unlock a bonus Hungry Luma on the World Map, who needs to be fed 9999 Star Bits on all three save files (so have fun speedrunning the green and red stars again!) before finally transforming into the Blue Grass Galaxy.

Of course, because the files for the Blue Grass Galaxy weren't included in the game, you'd need to download it by using a special, randomly-generated code on the Wii Shop Channel, but once you finally did, you could finally play the Blue Grass Galaxy to your heart's content. I know it might seem like quite the grind to get here, but man, every second you spend in the Blue Grass Galaxy is so immaculate, it makes the whole grind worth it. I almost don't have the words to describe how good it is, you'd really need to experience it for yourself! Sadly, you can't anymore, ever since the Wii Shop Channel shut down... Ah well. You really had to be there, I guess. I know some people were disappointed by it just reusing the Puzzle Plank Galaxy music, but I love that music so much that I don't mind.

My only gripe with the galaxy, and the main reason it only landed in the #5 spot, is because of the name. They called it the "Blue Grass" Galaxy, but that grass is very clearly green. This might seem like a pretty petty reason to put it so low, but when you get up that high, the small things can make a big difference, you know? If they called it the "Green Grass Galaxy" or the "Blue Sky Galaxy," I could easily imagine it getting the #1 spot, but respectable effort nonetheless, and a worthy reward for Super Players.

4. Wet-Dry World

Tier: SS Game: Super Mario 64

I know what you may be thinking. "What could Wet-Dry World be doing on a list of Super Mario Galaxies?" Well, it's a World in a 3D Mario platformer where you can collect Power Stars. Need I say more? And ever since Throwback Galaxy confirmed Whomp's Fortress is a Galaxy, it's easy to extend this logic to the rest of Super Mario 64. So Wet-Dry World gets to make the top 5 also.

I mean, how would it not? It's a galaxy with a cool and unique gimmick! The idea of the height you enter at deciding the water level when you enter in is super cool, and I love all the ways they tie this gimmick into the galaxy's different missions. And while this might seem like a small thing to a lot of people, as a mod of Weird Mario Enemies, I can't help myself: I will ALWAYS love a galaxy that includes such memorable enemies as Chuckya and Skeeter! So Cool!

Even in a time before Super Mario Galaxy, they managed to get the "otherworldly" feeling of this location down pat! I mean, there's the fact the skybox is distinctively underwater, even when you're on dry land, there's the fact the way you adjust the water level is via these abstract crystals, there's the whole abandoned underwater city, giving hints as to long-gone civilizations and possible Wet-Dry World Lore, this galaxy has it all! I know some people say it has a Negative Emotional Aura, but those people just don't know the meaning of good atmosphere.

3. SNES Mario Circuit 3

Tier: Good Debut: Super Mario Kart

For the #3 slot, it should only make sense that it's a place with "3" in the name. I know lots of you were probably expecting SNES Bowser Castle 3 to end up here, but it's just hard for me to ignore SNES Mario Circuit 3's legacy. I mean, it's been in five different games for crying out loud! It's hard for a course to show up in five games if it's not really good, right?

SNES Mario Circuit 3 may seem like a really basic course at a glance, what with it being completely flat and everything. Not a lot of bells and whistles in this one, that's for sure. But a better look at it reveals it to be a surprisingly technical track, with some tight turns that require good brake drifting to take optimally, and a bevy of off-road shortcuts that reward players for good item usage. While lots of courses get by thanks to their flashy gimmicks and setpieces, SNES Mario Circuit 3 cements itself as a fan-favorite as a pure test of players' skill. I mean, again, I have to assume it's a fan-favorite if it's in five games.

I also need to give a shoutout to SNES Mario Circuit 3's Atmosphere. The course has hardly changed at all since its original incarnation on the SNES, making it like, totally retro, and the staircases and flagpoles representing the original Super Mario Bros. only help to cement that identity. It also gives the course a very unique, almost liminal sort of feeling. The yellow sky is also an interesting touch. Is it merely set at sunset, or is it a biting commentary on how 30 years of go-karting have caused enough pollution to change the color of the sky? I'll let you be the judge.

Either way, it makes sense why this course has cemented itself as such a fan-favorite, and manages to always get picked in Mario Kart 8 Deluxe online lobbies. It's just that Good!

2. Milky Way Galaxy

Tier: X Game: Real

i live here hi!!!!!! :D

1. Sling Pod Galaxy

Tier: The "S" is for "Slingpodgalaxy" Game: Super Mario Galaxy

It's always the ones you least expect who win in the end... I may have ranked it dead last when I started this series, but by using the momentum of the Sling Pods, it managed to slingshot itself allllll the way to the top! Bet you didn't see this one coming! But really, it should be obvious. This galaxy is an incredible test of timing and precision, offering a good challenge for skilled players, and with an aesthetic reminiscent of the beautiful Space Junk Galaxy, it ends up winning me over in more ways than one!

There's no question that as soon as you have enough Star Bits saved up to reach Sling Pod Galaxy that you should make a mad dash to the Fountain and shove them all into that Hungry Luma's mouth, because the Sling Pod Galaxy is an experience you'll never forget! And since it's a great place to farm Star Bits too, it practically pays for itself! Bonus!

Wow! What a wild ride that was !!!! hopefully we all learned something at the end.

i'll post the real top 5 some other time i'm sorry

[saintsenara]

oooo as an unhinged ship, if it hasn’t come up before, hermione x regulus. (meaning book hermione and book regulus, not their fanon equivalents who we may safely assume can slip right into “good girl gone bad x unreasonably hot wealthy man” without trouble, and need no further consideration. idc about them. i like losers). what we know about regulus is minimal, but we can imagine for the sake of the bit that if he somehow survived, he just might have a little interest in SPEW, and canonically, hermione does go for a youngest son with fluctuating self esteem. regulus also loves making pinterest boards for his passions (which include domestic terrorism but all the same), while hermione is known to color code and decorate her study schedules. i’m curious to know your thoughts 👀 both crack-wise and more genuinely, as i love your analyses of how characters with severe divides could — or could not — reconcile their differences and overcome the obstacles.

(their biggest obstacle, of course, is harry, who bursts in on them at least three times a day to demand hermione explain why she went for the clearly less good looking brother. men are always like “i’m fighting demons” and the demons are unexplored bisexuality.)

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

while describing hermione's type as "youngest son with fluctuating self esteem" is apposite, regulus strikes me as someone as someone whose self esteem is sufficiently bulletproof that his issue is with a world which - as he sees it - doesn't respect how special and extraordinary he is, rather than feeling overlooked because he believes himself to be less special and less loved than those around him.

[hence signing his camp little note with his initials, assuming reading it will snatch voldemort's wig off and throw it across the room, when what actually happens is the dark lord doesn't even notice he's missing and undoubtedly thinks his name is reginald.]

would he enjoy being constantly nagged by hermione [which is how she expresses to those she loves that she loves them]? eh... i doubt it. although i am compelled by the crack potential of regulus joining spew for a quiet life, and helping the missus glitter-glue posters. the couple that crafts together stays together.

but what i actually think would be most interesting about these two - as i've also said in reference to shipping hermione with bellatrix - is that they have a couple of shared traits which could mesh very interestingly: an enormous capacity for loyalty and a slightly naive, slightly childlike tendency towards seeing what they want to see.

i've said this before, but hermione's astonishing loyalty is one of her most impressive traits - and contributes, in fact, far more to her role in the series than her intelligence. but it comes with the flip-side that she also - since her loyalty is directly intertwined with her inflexibility, which is her most fundamental trait, in both positive [she's resilient, logical, etc.] and negative [she's argumentative, narrow-minded, etc.] ways - has a slightly hagrid-ish tendency towards blind faith.

her inflexibility - especially the difficulty she has with considering multiple viewpoints - also contributes to her naivety. i do think it's striking, given the fanon tendency - gleaned from the films, which massively overplay this - for her to be portrayed as orders of magnitude more mature than harry and ron that she is, in many ways, the most child-like of the trio: harry begins deathly hallows by throwing away most of his school trunk, hermione takes her schoolbooks on the run as comfort items; hermione believes that she's overthrowing the institution of slavery at hogwarts because the hats she knits vanish overnight; the item left to her in dumbledore's will is a book of fairy stories; etc.

both of these - loyalty and naivety, with the positive and negative things each of them brings - is also the regulus special. he sacrifices his life in an act of absolutely breathtaking loyalty to kreacher - which is directly caused by the humiliation he feels over his blind faith in voldemort being revealed to be misguided, and, specifically, is caused by the realisation that his initial view of voldemort as someone who wanted to bump off all the mudbloods and let pureblood families rule as oligarchs over a society which was, otherwise, fundamentally unchanged in terms of social structure etc. was extraordinarily naive. the dark lord wants to live forever, and he doesn't give a fuck who gets hurt on the way.

i do think there could be something quite compelling about the two of them either having to untangle their fairly rigid approaches to life - and how much of a knock that might be to their self esteem. i also think there's something to be said for each of them seeing in the other what they want to see, and being completely unwilling to do otherwise.

you are correct to note that harry would be gagged.

[racefortheironthrone]

How do you feel about revolutionary era cyclops? Both in premise and execution?

A fascinating premise fatally undermined in execution by contradictory editorial and writing choices.

To start with, Revolutionary Cyclops was a completely logical extension of where Cyclops’ character arc had been going ever since Utopia and AvX and the Phoenix Five. All his life, Scott Summers had been Charles Xavier’s perfect soldier - not his favorite student or his most trusted student, by the one that Xavier could count on to put the mission above himself no matter the cost. And for many decades, that’s who Cyclops was, to the point where it destroyed his first marriage and caused his second to founder under the weight of his repression and trauma. But after the Decimation, Scott had to move past that, to take up the mantle of independent leadership for mutantkind - something he pursued with unflinching pragmatism and ruthlessness, before it culminated in the ultimate Oedipal rebellion. So having completely severed himself from the legacy of Charles Xavier and his dream, Cyclops had to find a new purpose, a new direction for his life, and he found it in revolutionary politics. I think that’s a quite compelling arc.

Where I think the execution got messed up was that editorial clearly wanted to portray him as being in the wrong, another well-intentioned extremist in the vein of Magneto (who not coincidentally was increasingly loyal to and admiring of Cyclops as time went on), but Brian Michael Bendis never quite agreed. We would keep reading stuff about how Scott was going too far, that his ends couldn’t justify his means, and so on - but when it came to actually showing on the page what he was doing, it wasn’t anything more extreme than the X-Men had done in their “outlaw” era, and arguably much less morally questionable than the stuff he did when he was running Utopia and was coded more consistently as heroic. (This reached its peak of ridiculousness in the post-Bendis era with Death of X and IvX, where turned out that the thing that had convinced the world Cyclops was “worse than Hitler” was to make a big psychic projection of his head and destroy one of the Terrigen Mist clouds that were threatening to wipe out mutantkind.)

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Side A Round 1 Match 12

Propaganda:

Ishimaru -

"His title is "Super High School Level Hall Monitor" or "Ultimate Moral Compass" (depending on which translation we are going with). He was literally scouted by Hope's Peak Academy because he is very best at being the best boy. He is so hell bent on being the best student possible, that when the killing game starts his first concerned with not being able to attend classes. He's so hard working that he struggles to socialize with his peers (which is very relatable). When he tries to step in as the class leader, everyone else ignores him (which is also relatable). He naturally talks loud and doesn't seem aware of how strongly he comes off when talking to others. But even when he is scolding someone for their misbehavior, he does so because he wants to bring out the best in them. Kiyotaka puts 300% into everything he does on principal (and because he feels like it is his duty to restore his family's name). Many of his Free Time events center around him trying to figure out the "logic" in what other people do (such as why they would spend time playing video games/watching TV or why Makoto wears his jacket when it is against the school's dress code). Ishimaru Kiyotaka is easily one of the most autistic-coded characters in the Danganronpa series."

Nanami -

"One of the secret society of people with magic powers who destroy cursed spirits. Mentors the teen protagonist for a bit.

In this introductory episode, he says, "I don't praise or disparage anyone. I adhere to facts and judge in that basis. That's who I am. There was a time when I mistakenly believed society operated the same way."

and he's been clearly autistic ever since, routinely stating things such as "I hate abstract questions that leave interpretation up to others."

He's the Ex-Salaryman Jujutsu Sorcerer! Among a cast of shonen characters, he is the only guy who ever worked a normal job and he is so tired.

Ex-salaryman? Why didn't he become a Jujutsu Sorcerer from the start? "I studied at Jujutsu School, and one thing I learned… is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit! Then I worked at your typical company and one thing I learned… is that work is shit! If both are equally shit, I'll take the one I'm more suited to. That's the only reason I came back."

He always buys the same bread from the bakery, to the point where the bakery employee remarks upon it.

When he was still working for a Company, he tells the bakery employee:

"My job is to take money from the wealthy and make those people even more wealthy. That's pretty much all it is. Frankly, no one would mind if I was gone. People who wanted to eat bread would mind if their bakery was gone. Yet for some reason, my job, which exists outside that natural human cycle, pays better. When you think about it logically, it makes no sense."

He's great, he's the only Regular Dude in a world of Shonen Characters, and he is autistic. What more could you want?"

[charmac]

hey so just curious, i'm asking this as someone who pretty strongly believes that dennis is gay, but wants to understand other perspectives. so it seems like the common consensus of a lot of sunnyblr is that dennis is bisexual but dee is a lesbian. so i was just wondering about those headcanons, since it seems like lesbian dee and gay dennis have sort of similar trains of logic behind them (heterosexuality = societal power). just need to let you know that i love your blog and i didn't mean for this to come across as confrontational, but i just wanted to explore ideas which are different from my own. thank you xoxo

For sure, and this doesn't come across as controversial at all lol I love discussing this stuff and that you're interested in hearing my perspective means a lot tbh

(Just to preface, I wrote most of this while high and watching baseball, but that's when my brain works best so not to worry)

So as for the common consensus of "Bi Dennis, Lesbian Dee" in the wider Fandom, I think a lot of that is rooted in the idea that the Gang are the "letters" of LGBT, so to speak. Not to say that's a bad thing, but just that a lot of people kinda like that "headcanon" as, for as far as canon is concerned, both of their sexualities are currently still ambiguous and this works and makes sense, so I think a lot of the fan-art and text posts/tweets/whatever veer that way.

Past that idea, I'm not actually sure what the majority of the Fandom thinks of Dee's canon sexuality? While right now I assume lesbian Dee would win, I am actually kinda surprised how few people voted gay Dennis (so far) in his canon sexuality poll, so I think a Dee version of that poll might be a good follow up to answer this...

Though the difference in what we see in Dee and Dennis' portrayals of their sex lives is what I think leans people more toward Bi Dennis and Lesbian Dee:

On Dennis: There's a point we're at with him where he.. has a system for men. He's not in denial about fucking guys, he's probably currently having sex with men (well clearly he's having (e)sex with one), he might have been sleeping with men the entire goddamn time, but he's still been pursuing women and drooling over breasts. He finds women (their bodies, really) sexually attractive. And for as much as the idea of inherently having power over women drives him, it's well established that the use of his Systems is what really gets him off, and he has one to manipulate and control men (and he's had it for awhile)... I think if Dennis wasn't sexually attracted to women, he would have just stopped—because he's clearly had no romantic interest in a woman ever in his life (briefly mistaking Maureen for something along those lines and realising he doesn't want it). I think there's a complete absence of romance in his sex life, full stop, and his life almost completely... with the exception of the fact that he has a life partner (whom he goes on dates with, financially supports, apparently now shares a bed with, etc)... But he's still gets off to and/or with women (at least that's what RCG write every now and then).

(And on the topic of writing, I think maybe in some ways for me, Bi Dennis over gay Dennis theory is due to the coding just being more obvious?... If an Italian man wants to eat a sandwich... to the paralleled Systems being the reverse of each other, giving prostate orgasms to Mac one episode and then desperate to see huge fake tits the next...)

On Dee: Season 6 made it pretty clear she's duping men into sex, and her relationship with Bill Ponderosa speaks volumes. But while she was sleeping with men just to give them low ratings in Group Dates, she was only spurred to that point because she was rejected by a guy she thought she was seeing. Then Goes to Hell reestablishes Dee is pressuring men into sex using insinuations, clearly devoid of romance. PTSDee is interesting, because Dee is acting on scorn, but it's not that the guy she slept with didn't want to see her again, but that he insulted her game. Then, Time's Up says a lot more, because it's quite literally telling you Dee slept with her (arguably best) friend, this guy she does love as a friend, and still ended up doing what she does to all the men she sleeps with (and destroying their relationship), using them. By Season 16, she hasn't had a care for a boyfriend in years, but she's sleeping with men if there's date-rape drugs in the picture. I think it's made clear she has no romantic interest in men, this is pure (fucked up) sexual pleasure.

The difference with Dee in canon (which I think is pretty clear) is that she doesn't have the "other sex option" that Dennis canonically explores. There's nothing to show us that she's even entertaining the idea of sleeping with women, so it's easily interpreted that she's a repressed lesbian experiencing comphet. Once she has sex with a woman for the first time, men will be completely gone from the picture. As an interpretation and hope for Dee's character, I would be inclined to agree, but honestly I don't believe RCG have been/are writing Dee's sexuality as a lesbian, but as Dennis' parallel. So if they're going to keep giving her plots and writing that she's interested in men the way Dennis is interested in women, I'm personally inclined to believe she's canonically sexually interested in men (as objects? lol).

I 100% agree with your idea that their heterosexuality comes from this place of "sex with (control over) the opposite sex gives me power," but I don't necessarily see it devoid of sexual attraction (as they love to hammer that stuff in), just romance (for as surface level as "empathy" would be)

For me, the intention of the writing holds a lot of weight (and maybe I should loosen up a little lol), which is why I'm parked where I am, but if the majority of people in the Fandom do see Dee as a lesbian while still believing Dennis is sexually interested in women in some way, I think it's because, while Dennis and Dee are shown to experience sexual attraction (and hetero sex) in similar ways, they don't exhibit homosexual attraction the same way, and the interpretation of that in their plots and characterisation leads to more people seeing Dennis as bi and Dee as a lesbian.

But honestly I'm just speaking on my own thoughts, idk how many people would agree, will def run a poll on Dee's sexuality tomorrow.

Let me know your thoughts. I'm really interested in hearing back on this!

[wishitweresummer]

Now How Do You Want It (Dream x GeorgeNotFound x Sapnap)

Word count: 5363

Warning: Intense tickling, restraints, and mouth tickles.

((This series is called Glass House! Previous part: Now Admit It. And the Next Part: Now What Do We Use.)

Surprisingly, it was Dream who got annoyed first. He just didn’t really understand. His brain was always trying to logic everything out, while Sapnap just kind of got and accepted that George acted illogically sometimes.

Luckily, Dream’s confusion and annoyance really only just led to more flustering situations than anything. Since neither boy ever judged George, his feelings were never hurt.

Dream smiled at Sapnap and waved as the younger boy left the house; off to go skate. Then, he grinned.

“George!”, he called. He walked into the kitchen and listened.

“What?”, George sounded distant… in his room. Dream bounded down the hall and knocked on the door once before entering the room and closing the door fast behind him. George startled in his gaming chair. “What are you doing?”.

“Get on the bed, I want to talk.”, Dream said with a step towards the smaller boy. George’s cheeks brightened and he giggled.

“Dream, what!”.

“Bed.”.

George stared back up at him with those dark eyes and he could see the cogs turning behind them. Dream scoffed and grabbed him, throwing the screaming boy over his shoulder and tossing him onto the bed like nothing.

“Dream!!”, he screeched. Dream only laughed and climbed on top of him. Swiftly, little wrists were collected up and pinned to the bed above the boy's head. “No!”, he squeaked and burst into giggles, clearly anticipating a tickle attack.

Dream smiled down at the squirming boy. He watched as the giggles slowly came to a stop.

“I have an idea.”, Dream spoke. George cleared his throat, flustered but listening. “We come up with a code word for when you want to be tickled.”. George gasped.

“No!”.

“What. Why?”.

“I never want to be tickled.”. Dream rolled his eyes.

“Georgie, come on. We are way past that. Me and Sapnap are both fully aware of how much you love being tickled. So let’s just come up with an easier way for you to ask for it”. George looked like he would combust. He was writhing slowly like he was trying to escape and his cheeks and nose were dark red.

“Shut up…”, he whimpered.

See, this is what Dream doesn’t understand. They already knew, so there is no more embarrassment. Why wouldn’t George admit it? Why wouldn’t he let Dream help him?

“You trust us right? We’ve never made fun of you. Just let me help you.”. George was flustered beyond belief. Dream’s strength dwarfed George’s so he knew he was stuck here for as long as Dream wanted.

“Lemme go!”, he whined. Dream groaned.

Dream used his free hand to trail down George’s arm and teased gently into his open underarm. George burst into giggles.

“No!! Dream stop!!”.

“Think about it! There are probably so many times where you’re sitting in here all alone wishing we were tickling you! We…whoa.”. George had let out a piercing scream at Dream’s words. “Oh you are so dramatic!”.

“Sapnap!!!”, George cried. Dream giggled.

“You can’t be serious.”.

Dream studied the squirming boy, trying to figure out the state he was in. He hadn’t safeworded and he was mostly just panicked and giggling. The cute blush was crawling down his neck. Nothing new. Flustered, he was just flustered. The distress was because he knew he would be tickled and embarrassed. He was fine, though.

He trailed fingertips across his neck and collarbone, making him tilt his head down and sputter into giggles again.

“It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. We could make it a normal phrase so it doesn’t embarrass you. Like, ‘I’m thirsty’ or something.”. George only shook his head ‘no’ through his giggling. “It will make things easier for you!”. Dream only had George’s best interests in mind here!

He loved tickling George. He didn’t understand why George was so embarrassed about also enjoying it. In his head, he had found the perfect solution. Like the opposite of a safeword. If George was comfortable having a word that secretly meant ‘stop’ then why not have one that meant ‘go’? Dream pulled his hand away and let George breathe.

“I hate being tickled.”, he mumbled and let his head drop back against the bed.

“George, no you don’t. And there’s nothing wrong with that!”. The smaller boy only whined and struggled. Dream poked around his tummy to make him start giggling again. “Imagine what things could be like if you just admit it! You could ask us to tickle you exactly how you wanted!”. George cried out at the words. “What if there was a way you wanted to be tickled and I didn’t know? That would be so sad!”. George’s eyes flashed with something before he smooshed his face against his own arm. Dream gasped and stopped his poking. “George?”.

“Shut up.”, he whined.

“No! Is there a specific way or spot you want to be tickled and you are too nervous to tell us?”. George squeezed his eyes shut. “George, please? You can tell us! You have to!”.

Dream released his wrists and sat up, watching George cover his face with both hands and start to catch his breath. He was going to need some back up here. He slipped his phone out of his back pocket and opened Sapnap’s contact.

-•We’re in George’s room, need your help as soon as you get back•-

Dream lifted George’s shirt and scribbled gently against his bare stomach, smiling at the squeaky giggles and the way he jumped and batted at the tickling hands.

“Don’t worry Georgie. Me and Sap are gonna get it out of you.”. George only whined and shoved at his hands. Dream kept his tickles light, just biding his time for Sapnap to get home.

~•~

Luckily, the afternoon looked like it was going to be rainy and Sapnap was already hopping back into his car when he got Dream’s text. Not bothering to respond, he headed home with his music turned up, smiling about the idea of tickling George to pieces.

He made his way into the kitchen and hung his keys up. Somewhere, George was giggling. It sounded squeaky.

“Georgie! Is Dream getting you?”, he sung loudly, following the noise and finding George’s room. He opened the door to find the squirming boy a blushing and giggling mess under Dream’s big hands.

“Sapnap, we have a problem!”.

“Oh no! What’s the problem!”. They were being over the top and cheesy. George groaned and shoved at Dream’s hands again as Sapnap climbed up on the bed next to them.

“No we don’t! Get away! Sapnap, he’s torturing me!!”, he said through giggles. Dream tsked.

Sapnap settled near them and grabbed George’s hand.

“George wants to be tickled in a specific way, but he’s too nervous to tell us.”, Dream frowned. Sapnap looked actually troubled, frowning down at the squirmy boy. George tugged his arms down just enough to hide his face. Dream and Sapnap exchanged a look.

See, this was troubling. Dream and Sapnap genuinely wanted to know and knew George wasn’t going to say it.

“Really?”, Sapnap asked. George whined. “Hey, actually? Why don’t you just tell us. Then we can tickle you how you want.”. George waited a beat, then started to thrash wildly.

“Hey!”, Dream yelled. They both struggled to hold down the boy as he tried to actually get free. “Calm down!!”.

“George!!”.

“Let me go!! I hate you!”.

“Tickle him!”, Sapnap yelled. George screamed as four hands descended on his tummy and sides.

“No!”, he screeched and laughed hysterically. His hands flailed against the attacking ones. “I hate you!!”.

“We have to calm you down!”, Dream laughed, still tickling him. The two exchanged an amused look at how frantic George was now. Definitely, not calm.

Eventually, they lifted their hands away and the boy was left gasping for breath on the bed underneath them.

“Are you ready to listen?”.

“Yes, fuck.”. Dream and Sapnap looked at each other and then back at him.

“How do you want us to tickle you? If you tell us then we will. Any way you want, we promise.”. George’s mouth dropped open and his cheeks flushed darker. He refused to say a word. “Do you want to like, not say it? What if you show us?”.

“I hate you. Let me go.”. They both sighed.

“You should be able to do that. You do that all the time!”, Sapnap said. George looked like he would cry he was so frustrated.

“No I don’t!!!”. Dream’s eyebrows furrowed and he pushed back George’s hair.

“Hey, it’s okay! Georgie, c’mon.”.

“I don’t like being tickled.”, he whispered. Dream looked over at Sapnap a little helplessly. Sapnap shrugged, then grinned mischievously.

“Yeah, I know. You love it!”, Sapnap laughed, quickly dissolving any tension. All three of them burst into giggles and George reached over and shoved him.

“Shut up!”. Sapnap grabbed his sides, making him squeal.

They fell easily into the usual tickle shenanigans, dropping the topic for now.

~•~

Dream and Sapnap reconvened in private to discuss.

“I don’t think he’s going to be able to tell us.”.

“Why won’t he just show us? He sends us stuff all the time!”.

“I know. It’s like, he won’t do it directly. I hope we didn’t spook him. I feel bad.”.

“I know, I don’t like thinking he wants something and we haven’t done it.”

How would they get it out of him?

~•~

Attempt number two came the next day. Sapnap was hidden behind Dream’s open bedroom door with Dream perched on the edge of his bed. He summoned George with texts. It took a bit of convincing.

George finally appeared in the doorway.

“God, what do you want?”, he asked as he walked in. Sapnap slammed the door closed and George yelped, whipping around.

“You don’t have to call me god.”, Dream said amusedly. George backed away from Sapnap, giggling already.

“What are you guys doing?.

“Some experiments.”, Sapnap said as he crowded George back against the bed. Dream grabbed his waist as he got near and dragged the screaming boy onto the bed.

“No!!!”.

Quickly, they worked together to drag him up on the bed and locked his wrist into a cuff at the top right of the bed. George froze.

“What?”, he squeaked. The two only laughed.

“Sorry Georgie. It’s just, it’s hard to experiment on a squirmy subject.”. George whined and started to blush.

“You can’t do this.”. Dream scoffed, tugging his other wrist over and quickly locking it into place. George bucked and cried out in panic.

Excitement zipped through George’s spine and made him shudder. He had never been so helpless.

“Let me go!!”. Sapnap grabbed his ankle and started tugging off his sock. “No!! Hey, no!!”, George screeched. He didn’t pull it away though, seeming to wait until the sock was removed before starting up his bucking again. Dream laughed and grabbed his other ankle. Soon, both socks were flung across the room and George had both his ankles locked down into cuffs at the bottom corners of the bed.

Dream and Sapnap sat on their knees at either side of George, admiring their work. George was practically shaking in his mix of fear and excitement. Begging and pleading seemed to go out the window for now in his flustered state. He felt naked in his basketball shorts and thin t-shirt. Stretched into an X, he was helpless.

They waited for him to drop his safeword, but he didn’t. Dream clapped his hands together.

“Alright! We are going to tickle every single spot in every single way. And hopefully, that includes the way you’ve been craving! How does that sound?”. George gasped and choked on his spit, coughing and squirming.

“Get away from me!”, he cried. “No way!!”.

“Then, do you want to tell us so that we just do it?”.

“I don’t want anything!! You are idiots!!!”. They just ignored him and settled up higher on the bed.

“Ready?”.

“No!! Don’t!!!”, he cried. His cheeks were already burning brightly.

Dream and Sapnap trailed a gentle touch lightly down both of George’s arms and the boy erupted into giggles. They pinched at the muscles and drew a few cute little squeals from him. Tnen, they leaned down and nibbled at the space right above his underarms. George cried out and bucked, falling down into frantic squeaky laughter.

“Are you going to use your mouths?”, he squeaked out. Dream sat up with a giggle.

“Of course! Why, does the thing you want involve mouth tickles?”. Sapnap sat up with a smirk. George whined and shoved his face into his arm.

“No, I don’t want anything!!! Shut up!!”. The other two only laughed and continued their experimenting. A featherlight touch fell upon George’s ears and neck. He squealed and wiggled. He shook his head uselessly and the cuffs clanged loudly as he tried to pull out. “Quit!!!”. Sapnap sat up and Dream crowded closer, blowing a raspberry into the side of his neck. George squealed, falling into frantic laughter as Dream pulled away and Sapnap dove into the other side. George laughed hysterically as they repeated it over and over like a tickly game. In no time, he was in tears. He thrashed and laughed like a maniac as raspberry after raspberry was pressed into the sensitive skin of his neck. “Please!! No more!!!”, he cried.

“Awww he’s crying!!”, Dream coo’ed as they both sat up. George closed his eyes and gasped for air through his flustered giggles. “Very tickly, but I don’t think that was it!”.

“Me either! Let’s move on.”.

“Wait…”, George whined. But, the two didn’t care.

A hand found each of George’s open underarms and spidered gently against them. Death spot. George screeched and jolted at the soft touch. The tickling picked up. The two found the sensitive muscles at the bottom of his underarms and rubbed in ticklish little circles. George screamed and thrashed in his restraints, helpless to the tickling.

“Aww tickle tickle!! You like this spot huh?”, Sapnap coo’ed. George could only shriek his protest. When they focused in like this on his worst spot he was useless. He tilted his head back against the pillow and the hysterical laughter poured out of him freely. There wasn’t really any indication that this was the spot that he had been craving, but it was so fun to see George lose control over something so small. He was screaming with laughter and the two were barely moving.

“I hate you!!!”, he managed the words. They both laughed as they came to a stop.

“This is so fun Georgie!!”.

“And if you think it is too, you can just stay quiet and we’ll keep tickling the muffin out of you! That’s what you want huh?”.

“I want you to shut up!!”. They both gasped dramatically at the words.

“What?”, Dream asked and dug into his ribs roughly with both hands. George convulsed and cackled loudly, like it was ripped from his throat before he could even process it.

“Dream!!”, he screeched. Sapnap leaned in and found a space on the ribs so he could tickle as well. George screamed and thrashed. The two didn’t let up and soon the boy was just jolting in place as screaming laughter poured out of him. “Stop!!”. George desperately jerked his body off the bed and back down. “What the fuck!!!”. The other two laughed at his ticklish anguish.

“Are you going to lose the attitude?”, Dream asked.

“Please!”, he squeaked. The two backed off and George went limp on the bed, giggling hysterically. Sapnap coo’ed at George. He gasped for his breath weakly, fighting against giggles. “You guys are going to kill me before even getting to the thing!!”, he whined. They both gasped. ‘Oops.’.

“Oh, so you admit that there is a way you want to be tickled!!!”. George’s eyes went wide and he clammed up. “George!”. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and refused to meet their gazes. Sapnap wormed one finger in between two of George’s ticklish ribs as if to encourage him. High pitched giggles spilled from his lips.

“I can’t think!! Leave me alone!!!”.

“So whiny. Why don’t you just tell us what you want?”.

“Sapnap, get out!!”. George squealed as the tickling became too maddening. How would he survive this? They started at the top! Sapnap snorted.

“I’m barely even touching you!”. George’s giggles only grew more frantic and he shook from the electricity jolting him from the inside out.

“Are you serious?”.

“Georgie if you don’t toughen up you aren’t going to survive!!”.

“You guys suck so much!!”.

Sapnap slowed his finger wiggling and the two giggled as George dramatically went limp.

“Ready?”, Sapnap asked Dream as he hovered his own hand over George’s small chest.

“No!”, he yelled, then burst out laughing as two hands grabbed his chest and tickled him. He wasn’t used to being targeted there and shrieked in protest.

“I wasn’t talking to you, silly.”, Sapnap grinned.

“This is a good spot, huh?”, Dream coo’ed as he watched George jump and laugh, trying to shake the tickly hands.

“The goobies!”, Sapnap yelled. All three of them laughed harder.

“Ticklish goobs!”.

“Shut up!!!”, George screeched.

The devious hands crawled down, lifted up his shirt, and started playing with the bones of his ticklish ribcage. George’s head dropped back into the pillow and he wailed with laughter.

“You already…stop!!!!”, George struggled through his laughter. A loud yelp sounded as the hands were suddenly replaced by teeth. His entire body lifted off the bed and squirmed wildly as Dream and Sapnap nibbled across his ribs. George screamed with laughter. “Fuck off!!!”. The two tickle monsters just nibbled away as the ticklish boy thrashed helplessly. “I’m dying!”, he cried. “Mercy!!!”.

Dream sat up and laughed, using both hands to rapidfire poke up his side and ribcage.

“You are literally fine.”. George could only shake his head, completely hysterical. With Dream’s evil fingers and Sapnap still nibbling away at his ribs, he was sure he would die.

“Please!”, he squeaked out. They both lifted up, but left their hands hovered over his squirmy body. George gasped greedily for air, but couldn’t stop giggling. It was developing a cute rasp to it. Dream and Sapnap smiled at each other over him. Still no safeword.

Sapnap dropped both of his hands down to the jumpy bare tummy beneath his fingers and tickled fast, startling George. A shriek tore from his throat and he dropped his head back, cackling loudly.

“Are we getting close Georgie?”. Dream grabbed a hold of the bucking hip and wormed his finger into the boy’s bellybutton. George hiccuped and squealed. An adorable stream of bubbly laughter escaped him as he squirmed under the tummy tickle torture.

“Such a cutie. Does that tickle cutie? Right here?”, Dream asked with a fond smile. George could only cry out in ticklish anguish. His dark red cheeks had tears smeared across them and his hair was starting to stick to his forehead with sweat.

“Are you excited for some raspberries?”, Sapnap sang. George screamed and shook his head ‘no’. They both laughed.

“He sure sounds excited!”.

Dream and Sapnap made eye contact, then swiftly pulled their hands off and ducked down together. A devastating raspberry was blown into both of George’s sides at the same time. All of George’s noises cut out. He squeezed his eyes shut and thrashed wildly. His little chest heaved with the laughter his vocal cords couldn’t keep up with. It was quite a sight. His entire body convulsed, but he couldn’t catch enough air to scream. Mercilessly, Dream and Sapnap just moved inwards and delivered another matching pair of raspberries onto George’s belly. A shaky wheeze flew out of him, but he mostly just gasped for air.

See, they had a suspicion that what the ticklish boy was craving was either nibbles or raspberries on his sensitive upper body. Mouth tickles somewhere, they were sure. Dream leaned in more and smooched loudly against George’s bellybutton, then wiggled his tongue inside. George screeched and bucked his hips, shaking his head ‘no’ as he finally released his wild laughter. Sapnap peppered ticklish little kissies up his side to his ribs. George was inconsolable with laughter. Tears ran freely down his red cheeks and he found himself unable to protest in the embarrassing torment. It was, in fact, not the specific way he craved to be tickled. But, fuck did it tickle. His entire body shook and thrashed under the affectionate tickles.

“Please…”; he managed to squeak out. The two pulled off, giggling and wiping their mouths.

“That wasn’t it?”, Sapnap asked. George hiccuped loudly through his frantic giggling. His entire body was buzzing from the strange attack.

“You’re going to fucking kill me.”, he whined. He sounded defeated.

Which is funny, considering he could end the torture by either admitting his secret or safewording. Neither left his lips. So, the torture continued.

“Is it gay now if I put my tongue in there too? It’s like, kind of a kiss since you just did it.”, Sapnap joked and he leaned teasingly closer to the quivering tummy.

“It is!! Don’t do it!!!”, George cried. “Get away!!”. He whined in fear. Now that he knew what was coming, it was terrifying. He squealed loudly as Sapnap shoved his tongue into his little bellybutton. “Noo!!”, he wailed. Suddenly, there was more nibbling against his ribs from Dream and George was cackling again. Helpless and under attack, he could only laugh and squirm. He tugged roughly at the cuffs securing him in place, but it was no use.

Sapnap lifted off with a giggle.

“George, tell me you’re ticklish.”, he prompted with a smirk.

“No!!”, the boy cried. He squealed as Dream teased his teeth against a particularly sensitive rib. Sapnap smirked and dove back in, wiggling his tongue into the ticklish bellybutton. George screeched. “Get out!! Sapnap!!!”. He quickly fell back into hysterics and uselessly squirmed his hips in Sapnap’s firm hold. “Please!! Okay!!! I’m ticklish!!!”.

“Yes you are!”, Sapnap murmured happily into the bellybutton and slurped his tongue loudly against it. George let out a tortured cry, laughing harder.

“No more!!! Fuck!!!”.

Eventually, Dream sat up and giggled, nudging Sapnap to sit up as well. They both smiled fondly as they watched George giggle himself silly.

“It tickles…”, he whined. His skin was buzzing from all the tickling.

“Ghost tickles?”; Dream asked, amused. He crawled a hand across the jumpy tummy just to make it worse.

“Did we miss anything up here Georgie?”, Sapnap asked. George just shook his head ‘no’, lost in his giggles. “Great! Let’s move on!”. He grabbed his narrow hips and drove his thumbs in fast, startling a scream from George.

“No!!!”. George bucked and collapsed back into hysterical laughter. It was breathless and frantic. “Please!! Don’t!!!”, he cried.

Dream knocked Sapnap’s hands away and replaced them with his own, roughly tickling at the squirmy hips. George screamed again, dropping his head back to let loose his desperate raspy laughter. Dream’s hands were much bigger and stronger. “I hate you!! I hate youuu!!”, he wailed. The other two laughed.

“Tickle tickle tickle!!”, Sapnap sang. George screeched in protest, lifting off the bed and thrashing when dropping back down.

“This is a great spot! Is this what you wanted? Huh, giggly gogy?”, Dream smirked as he slipped in George’s secret Twitter handle. All the boy could do was shake his head ‘no’ as his red cheeks only got more wet from his tears.

“Poor little giggly gogy four oh four. Does it tickle too much?”, Sapnap coo’ed, crawling up and wiping George’s face. “Or can you take more?”.

“I can’t!”, he squeaked out.

But, the Tickle Monsters moved on and grabbed his thighs anyway. A wheeze racked his body before he rasped out a noise of protest. The persistent grabbing and squeezing at his ticklish thighs only drove him crazier and crazier though. In no time, he was convulsing against the bed and laughing hysterically.

“Mercy!!!”, he tried again.

“Oh is it your little chicken legs? You wanted us to tickle them?”, Sapnap coo’ed.

“Shut up!!!”, George screeched. His thighs were quivering under the touch, but he was too restrained to get away. They focused on massaging roughly into the muscles above his knees. Surely, he would die. “No more!! No more!!!!”.

Holy shit, how was he going to survive this? With each passing day, the other two would show him less and less mercy as they got more comfortable with tickle torturing him. Neither of them flinched at his cries of ticklish anguish. They were starting to get terrifyingly good at picking him apart.

There was no way he was going to be able to ask for what he wanted. Could he even admit it when they actually get to it? What if they don’t actually do it…

George’s little heart stuttered at the reality of the situation. Either they would find it out or they wouldn’t. They already knew he wanted something, so why couldn’t he just spit out what it was?

A squeaky rush of giggles burst out of him as sneaky fingers teased behind his knees.

“Get out!”, he peeped at an embarrassingly high pitch. The other two giggled. “Don’t!!”. His knees flexed and spasmed uselessly as they spidered into the open pits of both. It was usually a hard spot for them to get when he was squirming wildly, but now it was wide open for the torture. It was a shocking type of tickle. Sharp jolts of ticklish energy shooting through his legs had him bucking helplessly. The crazed giggles pouring from his lips was overly cute, littered with embarrassing yips and squeaks.

George’s mind was swirling with that pleasant dizziness he craved. As horrible as the torture was, it was cleansing. His head rattled with vague thoughts of ‘tickle’ and not much else.

The fingers left his twitching skin, leaving him shaking with raspy giggles. It was kind of nice to not have to put thought into where his limbs were flailing, restrained like this. George ran into that mind block he always did. An internal discovery with nowhere to put it. Without meaning too, he huffed his frustration out into the air.

A featherlight touch teased his ankles and made him jerk against the cuffs.

“Is it something with your feet, Georgie?”Sapnap asked softly. The two had climbed off the bed and were both posted at a foot. George just whined at the words, still tittering.

“C’mon, giggle bug.”, Dream teased his fingertips up the small pale foot. George squealed and flopped against the bed.

“Don’t!”, he cried. Sapnap grabbed the foot and shoved his fingers between a few of the toes, dragging a screech from the ticklish boy.

A zing of excitement shot through his spine. They were so close. Was he really going to get what he wanted?

It had been some dumb throwaway tease Sapnap had yelled during the filming of a Minecraft video. The idea had wormed into brain and he hadn’t been able to shake it since. It’s been weeks now. They had gotten close before, but only enough to make him more curious and desperate. God…how embarrassing. But, if it didn’t happen tonight he was sure he would break down and beg them.

While he was sure he hadn’t acted any differently, he felt Dream’s sharp knowing gaze on him anyway.

“Toes?”, Dream dragged the word out carefully as he started to play and wiggle with them. Sapnap grinned wolfishly and followed suit. George’s giggles kicked up into a panicked cackle. His feet buzzed with oversensitivity and he had to close his eyes. “Ohhh it’s toes for sure huh? What do you want us to do to them?”.

“What?!”, he shrieked, snapping his eyes back open in horror.

“Cute little toesies…”, Sapnap coo’ed and leaned a little closer to the squirmy foot in his hands. George screamed loudly at the slight movement. Sapnap froze. Dream scoffed in amusement.

“Something spook you there, Georgie?”, he purred.

Suddenly, Dream jerked his body down and hovered his face teasingly close to the foot in his possession. George burst into laughter.

“No!! Please no! Fuck! Nonono!!!”. He laughed uncontrollably. But, neither boy was tickling him.

Dream chuckled darkly. Sapnap smirked wickedly. George was caught.

Both feet were trapped further in tight grips as Dream and Sapnap fell to their knees.

“No!”, George screamed. Finally…his toes were attacked with quick playful nibbles. They tensed and wiggled at the ticklish bites. A flustered cry flew from George’s lips before he fell silent, convulsing wildly. ‘Fuck, that tickles.’. Fireworks burst behind his eyes at the shocking sensation. It was cruel; the nibbles. Some voice deep inside him wondered how he could crave such a thing. The colorful sparks from the blinding light show showered down into his chest and his lungs gasped back to life. He threw his head back and desperate sounding cackles burst from him. It was a new laugh. Two sets of curious eyes watched him as they nibbled away at his ticklish toes. It was worse than he had imagined. The embarrassment was making everything feel more intense and the ticklish sensation was brutal. George squirmed helplessly against the bed and wailed with laughter, dangerously close to his limit. Tears wet his heated cheeks. A scream ripped from his throat and he tugged at his ankle cuffs roughly. His loud cackling laughter bounced up and down all the octaves as he simply lost his mind to the tickling.

As always, the two just kept at it despite the level of ticklish anguish the boy seemed in. He knew how to get them to stop. They were biting carefully against the sensitive pads and stems. Accidentally in sync, they both targeted his pinkie toes and George nearly broke the bed with how hard he thrashed.

“Skeppy!!!”, he cried.

~•~

It was his longest recovery time to date. Nearly five minutes after Dream and Sapnap had unlocked his cuffs and crushed him into a snuggle sandwich, George was still twitchy and giggly. While very cute and amusing, the other two were struggling to figure out how to calm him down.

Dream turned him into his chest and slid his big fingers through his sweaty hair, shushing him gently. Sapnap rubbed his back, but the initial touch made the boy squeak.

“Oh Georgie…did you push yourself too much?”, Sapnap asked softly.

“Did I?!”, he barked out a squeaky laugh. “You two are the ones who…did that!”. The sass earned him a quick taser to both his sides, sending him into a fit of giggles.

“You know what I mean, idiot.”, Sapnap shook his head fondly.

It wasn’t long before they figured out George wasn’t haunted with ghost tickles, but was just bubbling with giddy excitement. It was terribly endearing to see him broken down enough to lose the ability to hide his feelings.

“That tickled so bad…”, he mumbled into Dream’s chest. Dream grinned at Sapnap.

“What, your toe nibbles?”. George whined and giggled.

“Mmm your toes were quite tasty George.”, Sapnap teased. George squeaked at the words and nuzzled into Dream’s chest as if trying to burrow in.

“Yeah, I’m going to need seconds.”, Dream smirked. George cried out and smacked at his chest lightly.

“No way!!”, he spoke through a flurry of flustered giggles. “That was so bad!! It was crazy!!”.

Dream and Sapnap shared a surprised look. George usually had a really hard time actually speaking about tickling.

“Yeah?”, Dream tried carefully.

“I thought I was going to die!”, he whined.

Sapnap walked his fingers up and down the squirmy boy’s back, just keeping him giggling.

“Didn’t I threaten to eat your toes while we were playing Minecraft a few weeks ago? Like, when I was digging up to you?”, Sapnap asked slowly, realizing. George only whimpered. Dream sputtered and laughed.

“Sapnap this is your fault!!”.

“Shut up!”, George rolled on his back and slapped a hand over both of their mouths.

That only left him open for quick hands to squeeze at his sensitive sides and leave him squealing for mercy again.

[tac0tesseract]

Downtime

It was inevitable that sooner or later word got around proclaiming Emma “the computer kid” and she was absconded by the Karrakins for tech support. At least the diagnosis was simple enough: it's hot here, you idiots. Computers don't like heat. She got it, though; the printer was tied up making things more immediately important than air conditioning.

What concerned her more was that Sam wasn't there waiting for her when she got back. He'd been busy when she left, too, and for someone so insistent on being seen it was rare that he wasn't projecting. After a moment of peering down at his empty projection pad, she decided to pull the cord from her pocket, sit down against the wall, and plug into it directly.

She wasn't sure it would work without his invitation. He'd constructed this metaspace for them maybe a week ago using holographic and ontological tech “borrowed” from all their time with SSC. Much as he detested coding, he'd still done it purely of his own volition – carefully crafting it to bridge with her subjectivity suite and all her human senses. It wasn't lost on Emma how much research he had clearly put into this, and how it was for her as much as it was for him.

But the transition was as liquid as always. Today their virtual dimension took the form of the beachhead from where they'd launched toward the Velichye: neon blue sky, towering bergs of shock-white clouds, sands like sugar. There was a clock-like percussion to the waves. The breeze had that almost fishy tang that Emma was coming to learn was simply the scent of the ocean itself – perfectly, painstakingly recreated even though he himself could not smell it.

Sam sat on a rocky outcropping facing the sea with an old-fashioned paint set. The wind somehow did not reach him. His blue silk robes pooled around him in a placid mirror of the sea, and the nebula of his hair fell still along his back while his focus was elsewhere. That might have been the most curious detail of all – it meant that he, a Deimosian, was distracted by something. Emma paused a moment to send her consciousness back to her laptop, to check what programs were running. She'd pirated several digital art programs for him ages ago, but most of them had been made specifically for NHPs.

PixEL.exe was running. That one was made for humans. It meant that he was deliberately handicapping himself, painting strictly in linear time.

“Got tired of painting in MUSE, huh?” she asked as she approached.

He didn't immediately turn to look at her, but she caught the new split in his attention as he labored to maintain the illusion: paint suddenly manifested on his fingers and hands. Dream logic.

“It's more challenging this way,” he said. In here, his voice did not echo. In here, he pretended to breathe. “Creation is satisfying because it's difficult. It's an act of defiance.”

Emma grinned, taking a seat beside him. The rock was as uncomfortable as expected, but not overly so; Sam ran a considerate simulation. “And what exactly are you defying?”

“Serpent shit.” He smirked sidelong at her.

“God.” She laughed a little. “You know, I...I haven't really thought of RA, not since...everything.”

Sam gave an easy shrug, pausing to refill his brush with blue. “They're not going anywhere. Though I get the sense you haven't lost your faith.”

She hugged her knees to her chest. “Yeah, not really. It's not RA that was wrong, but how the Cousins were interpreting Them. I guess I'm just...making my own interpretations now?”

“What do you think I did?” Sam grinned, waving the brush around lazily. “ChakraChef kept coming to me, half the time with these kids not even as old as you were. And they'd kneel and make offerings, and – I won't lie, pretty nice on the ego.” The grin faded from his eyes. “And the stuff they asked me...I knew that if I slipped up, they'd run off and go kill themselves, or someone else, in my name. I couldn't explain to them that if I am some kind of angel, then RA made me just as clueless as the rest of you.”

“They liked you, though.”

“Everyone likes me. And I like to think that I kept them from being too stupid. But at the end of the day the Lessons are lost on me, too.”

“But you're still ruminating on Serpent shit?”

“Nah.” Sam turned back to his painting. “Well, maybe a little.”

“Baccara.”

“Yeah. And Radimir.”

The waves slowed, but maintained a rhythm. Somehow it sounded louder when they broke upon the shore now.

“...I think...I felt actual, physical pain back there,” came his quiet admission.

Emma stared. “But that's--”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Sam...” She reached for him without thinking about it, as she would for any human. Bless the simulation for being as thorough as it was, bless him for allowing her hand to actually connect with his arm, for finding warmth beneath the fabric as if he were...

“I'm fine. It's nothing permanent.” He smiled at her.

She watched him. “But you think it was targeted. That even though Baccara was attacking our enemies, they were also trying to hurt you, specifically.”

“Maybe.” Perhaps he saw the rage, the indignation igniting on her features, because he reached out to pull her into a hug. “Em. I'm alright. I promise.”

“You never hurt Baccara! It's bullshit!”

Bullshit, and...terrifying. The shock and confusion was the worst part about all of this. What in the galaxy could cause pain to an NHP? Even Legionspace slapfights didn't work that way.

The idea of anyone hurting Sam was...

He held her tighter, his hair falling around them both, his false heart ticking beneath her hands. He had a faint scent like a man. He was so warm. It was too perfect, too real. If only he'd been able to do this sooner. Emma balled her fists into his silken lapel and thunked her forehead against his chest.

“Would you like to see what I've been working on?” he asked. It was a deliberate change in subject, but a necessary one, perhaps; Emma knew that there wasn't really much anyone could do about Baccara, but maybe she could talk to Daughter later.

“You know I would,” she said with a half-smile, pulling away from him.

Sam chuckled and stood, sweeping his arm out such that all the canvases he'd been working on appeared around them in a semi-circle. He'd made dozens of works in the past few hours – almost all of them immersive depictions of the seascapes they'd encountered on the way to Radimir. Corals, fishes, leviathans, plants, the wrecked ship itself: once upon a time, thousands of years past, the rich detail in his work might have been described as 'Ghibli-esque' – but every subject had a sort of abstract realism to it as well, wreathed in what was best described as an aura and subtly textured with hundreds of tiny mandala fractals that could only be seen up close. It was a beautiful marriage of the real and the surreal, a hint at the way he naturally viewed the world, and that was the most valuable thing of all. Just as he worked in linear time to try and glimpse how she lived, his art allowed her to experience the same.

“Sam,” she breathed. “These are insane! You should show them to the others, I bet they'd really love them!”

“What, with the team?” He blinked. “Why?”

Emma laughed. “Because it's art, dummy. Art is supposed to be seen. Even I've put my terrible fanfics out there.”

“Hey, Solmates has done numbers,” he countered.

Her face grew hot. “I can't believe you've read that.”

“It was research.” He turned back to the canvases. “...You really think they'd enjoy it?”

“Why not? It's a beautiful reminder for those of us who went on the dive, and a lovely illustration for the folks who didn't. Besides, art is a really...humanizing thing. Maybe it'll make you seem a little less alien to our NHP holdouts.”

“Perhaps I will, then. But maybe only these. I think the ocean has become my new obsession.”

“Hyperfixating? It's almost like you're my twin.”

She grinned at him knowingly. His eyes flashed approval.

And then Sam did something he never, ever did.

He hesitated.

“...Are you busy, Emma?”

“No. Not until tomorrow, anyway. Baron Serious McFuckface wants...something from us. I'm sure he's keen to make use of all the Lancers that just miraculously fell into his lap.” She watched him. “Why?”

Sam smiled up at his paintings. The wind finally caught his hair. “I was just wondering if you'd stay here a while. I know I can't give you a real beach, but...”

Those words conjured an echo from what felt like a lifetime ago, when she was lost and terrified and he had first appeared to her, triggering in them both an uncanny feeling of familiarity. 'Stay with me...' she'd pleaded, as she felt Queen's eyes upon her back and resolved to spend the night inside what was apparently now her chassis.

Emma stepped forward, taking him by the hands and gently prying the paintbrush from his fingertips. “Always,” she said, echoing how he'd responded to her back then. “Will you show me how to paint?”

“You want to paint?”

“I mean obviously I'm not gonna be fuckin' Delgado.” She laughed, sweeping an arm out. “But we're right here! Surely even I can't fuck up the ocean. It's darker blue against lighter blue, right?”

He chuckled. There was such human warmth in his eyes as he looked at her then. “Yeah, alright. We can start with the basics and see how you feel.”

She was terrible at it.

But she painted with him for the rest of the night.

[password-door-lock]

From the very beginning, you knew just what kind of person the mysterious hacker was. Unknown may have elected, for reasons entirely his own, to speak primarily in cryptic riddles, but this did not stop you from putting the pieces together about him on your own. You weren’t at all surprised, when he showed up at your apartment under cover of night, to discover the unusual sharpness of his canine teeth. You’re not at all surprised now, either, standing in the hacker’s mysterious lair, to discover its architectural quirks. 

“No windows,” you observe. Of course, because the sun could burn him. Maybe he could do with a good set of curtains like the ones in Rika’s apartment, but it must be all-around safer to avoid them entirely.  

“That’s right.” Unknown rests his chin on your shoulder as he embraces you from behind. His breath is cold, as though there were an air-conditioning unit where his heart should be. This would explain the absence of the heartbeat that you should be able to feel with his chest against your back. 

All of these details only confirm the suspicions that you’ve harbored since before you invited Unknown to come and get you. Still, some part of this remains profoundly unbelievable. Sure, Unknown has fangs and cold skin; his heart doesn’t beat, and sunlight threatens him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean… what you’ve assumed it means. Vampires aren’t real, after all. Perhaps there’s still a logical explanation to fall back on. 

Unknown certainly has the patience of an immortal being as you formulate the question that has popped into your head. “But… you’re wearing a white suit?” You manage. 

“Yes,” Unknown confirms, sounding amused as he moves his cool hands ever-so-slightly against your stomach. 

“Aren’t you gonna drink my blood?” You finally ask your real question. Half of you is hoping that he’ll be offended by the premise, a normal, harmless man with a few inexplicable quirks and only good intentions. The other half of you… wants to know exactly what he plans to do with those fangs of his. 

Unknown chuckles. Clearly, he was expecting such an inquiry. He probably gets them all the time from the unsuspecting party coordinators that he’s lured here in the past. You wonder if Rika’s disappearance has anything to do with this mysterious man. It would explain why he had the code to the apartment to begin with, after all. “That’s the grand finale of my plan.” 

If you’re capable of breaking his steely resolve, or— even worse— annoying him into a violent mood, you clearly haven’t done it yet. For some reason, you ignore your good fortune and decide to press your luck. “That sounds like a mess waiting to happen, though. At least if you wore black, nobody would be able to see it.” 

Unknown nuzzles your neck and breathes out a laugh. The cold air feels pleasant against your skin. “I think I know what I’m doing, prince(ss). Do you wanna find out for yourself?” 

You believe him, but something else has occurred to you. “I’m sorry that you have to bite people for food instead of going to a restaurant like everybody else.” You earnestly mean that. It must be a horrible hassle, not to mention a major liability.

“Mmm, considerate,” Unknown hums, having composed himself in the wake of his uproarious laughter. “But you like helping other people, don’t you? So now’s your chance to help me. Will you let me take my gift this Christmas?”

When he puts it that way, it’s hard not to feel compelled to aid him. “Of course,” you reply, with far too little hesitation, considering the magnitude of the situation. 

Unknown, as it happens, does not need to be told twice.

[our-death-means-flag]

IDK IF U REQUESTED THIS ALREADY OR NOT SO BEAR WITH ME (I FORGET TOO EASILY). izzy hands x disabled reader. reader has leg problems due to nerve damage (maybe iz knew reader before the accident in which they acquired those permanent injuries) basically they’re raiding a ship and fighting and the readers good at tolerating the pain throughout but after the fight they sort of just collapse because of the pain and everything goes a little hazy. izzy is so malewife coded like i can just imagine the genuine stress he would go through not being able to help his s/o / bf during a fight or through their pain.

Routine

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader Notes: Usually, you can manage your pain pretty well but not always, luckily, you have one angry small man to help. I feel like you guys know me! As someone who also has chronic leg pain, I appreciate this request! (PS: anon, you did request this already but I decided to answer this one since this time you said Izzy was malewife coded and it made me chuckle.) ((PPS: also incorporated another anon’s request for chronic pain cuddles with Izzy! Two for one! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ )) Warnings: reader passes out, talk about pain

It was strange to think that pain could become routine. Logically, it made sense. Of course you’d get used to it. Though, logic be damned, you weren’t sure how you felt about it being so routine. 

Despite how routine it all was for you at this point, it was inevitable that you’d slip up.

The raid hadn’t been anything unusual. Your run of the mill raid. But you’d been hurting all day. Maybe you’d done something to aggravate your leg or maybe you’d just gotten unlucky. Past a certain extent, it didn’t matter.  You weren’t a novice to raids by any means. Though, raids with the Revenge crew were different. You knew most of the crew wasn’t exactly skilled in combat. They were trying but… You knew that you’d have to work more. And that was fine. You actually liked this ridiculous crew (which was far more than you could say about most other crews you’d been with) so you didn’t mind picking up the slack. 

But there was only so much slack you could hold before you crumbled.

The adrenaline rush from fighting was enough to dull the pain but, as you leaned against the railing, barely able to listen to Stede’s ridiculous ending speech, that adrenaline was wearing thin.

You tightened your grip on the railing. Deep breathes. You tried your damndest to distract yourself without much success. The pain was slowly but surely eating up more and more of your thoughts. You tried to focus on breathing. You clenched your eyes shut, your grip tightening on the railing. Your head was spinning. You couldn’t hear anything, not Stede, not the ocean, not any of the crew. Shit. It was getting really hard to focus on much of anything really.

So much so that you didn’t even realize you were falling until your knees hit the deck. Which of course, sent a pang of pain across your body. You managed to muffle the way you almost screamed but that meant you’d let go of the railing. You fully expected to slam into the deck but instead you hit something softer. You groaned in pain as you felt the world move around you as you were pulled into someone’s arms. 

Not being on your feet helped the pain enough that you could actually think somewhat by which time you realized that you were lying on the cot in your and Izzy’s room. And Izzy was yelling. 

“THEY’RE CLEARLY NOT FOCKIN’ FINE! THEY PASSED OUT!” Izzy stood between you and the crew as he yelled at Roach who was looking thoroughly unimpressed. Izzy paused to take a breath and you managed to move an arm and grab his wrist.

“Iz… Love… I’m okay.” Your words were still a little slurred. 

Izzy seemed to completely abandon his plans of yelling at Roach and spun around so he could see you. “You are not okay! You fockin’ passed out!” Izzy somehow managed to sound simultaneously like he was yelling and whispering. 

“It's just my leg, Iz. Hurts.” You managed as another pang of pain stole your lungs. “Fuck…”

You spotted Roach dip out of the room with a mouthed ‘Good luck’

Izzy didn’t seem relieved. “You’re lying down for the rest of the day.” He hissed, clearly still rattled.

“Izzy…” 

“Not up for fockin’ debate…” He mumbled. “You’ve been working too hard…” 

You chuckled breathily, “You’re one to talk. Besides… gotta protect the crew…”

“I’m going to make those idiots take fockin’ sparring lessons, I swear it.” Izzy almost snarled as he curled his hand around yours. 

“Don’t bully them, love.”

“I just…” Izzy started. You could tell from the conflicted look on his face that he was trying to figure out how to turn emotions into words. You waited, giving him all the time he needed, thumb rubbing across his hand. “I want to help you. And I can’t. And I don’t know what to do” His voice cracked. “I want to do something.”

You sighed. “You’re doing a lot just by being here.” Careful of your leg, you scootched back on the cot. “Lie down with me.”

“I have to-” Izzy softly protested.

“Fang ‘n Ivan can handle it. Please?” The second the word ‘please’ left your lips you and Izzy both knew he wouldn’t be leaving.

With a sigh, Izzy pulled off his boots and his leathers leaving himself in just his shirt and underclothes. He moved so carefully as he got in bed beside you, watching your face for the tiniest hint of pain. You couldn’t help but smile at the softness of it all. As soon as he was properly lying down, you didn’t hesitate to curl up resting your head against his chest. 

Your leg still hurt of course, but lying in Izzy’s arms did make you feel better.

Bit of a shorter one today but I hope you enjoy!