#that’s all Im capable of writing

[canaidliafail]

Can I request something where Eivor and Kassandra like reader who is shy and innocent . She isn't much if a warrior but a healer, takes care of their eoulds is gentile. She also has scars was a slave.

sorry love But writing soft & innocent reader isn’t much of my type 💕 Doubt I will do that trope justice

[deoidesign]

Time and Time Again comes back tonight!

Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know it was a long hiatus.

My health was struggling, my arm was (is) hurting, and I decided it wasn't worth it. I'd rather be slow!

So thank you for giving me that grace, and I hope you'll be there with me for the rest of the series.

[catboythanatos]

ok hear me out????

things that i think stone had to do to nurse robotnik back to health after the end of sonic 2:

-physically dig him out of the rubble and carry him in his arms to safety

-cut his clothes off of him to access his injuries without bending or pulling on anything

-clean, stitch, and bandage wounds

-set broken/dislocated bones

-procure (steal) hospital-grade painkillers and medical equipment

-surgically remove shrapnel embedded in him

-hook him up to an intravenous line to administer (stolen) fluids and nutrients

-build or procure some kind of machine to monitor his vitals and alert him immediately of any changes

-carefully bathe and dress him

-monitor him 24/7 for days, barely sleeping, meticulously cataloging every detail of his injuries to keep track of any slight change in his condition

-kiss him on the forehead (this is what actually made him better he didnt need to do all that other shit)

[hellamorte]

do you ever think about how lucanis keeps losing and losing and losing — his entire life? losing his parents, losing his childhood because of the crow training, losing his freedom, his sleep, and one year of his life due to imprisonment. then the maker smiles upon him, and he's discovering something good (rook, the veilguard team, purpose), acquiring something back (his family, his life, his freedom, his job, his city), finding some peace in mundane things (coffee, cooking, taking care of others). it feels like the scales are finally moving, balancing — only for him to lose again. he loses caterina, he can lose his city to blight, he loses at weisshaupt, he loses grip on himself (thanks to spite), he loses control — he loses himself, piece by piece. rook can help lighten the load on his chest (thanks to spite), he gets caterina back, and breathing feels a little bit easier. but loss is not done with him. he loses illario, and it feels like losing a limb, a large piece of himself violently torn away. he's visibly shaken, but no one truly knows what it takes to string the assorted pieces of himself together and keep functioning. and then loss deals what seems like the final blow: some of his friends are dead or lost, and rook is gone, too. he failed; he only knows death, doesn't he? life only takes, and takes, and takes, giving only to tease and take it back. at that moment, he's falling apart completely — until they find rook, and there's a sliver of hope once again. the scales are moving, the team wins, they eventually go back to their lives — and that's when he realizes that the final blow is the life as the first talon.

[slytherinshua]

txt writers are literally so bad at using tags properly pls just tag the fic for the member its written for not every member omg it’s so annoying trying to find smth for tae or kai and only seeing choi line I get that they’re more popular but it only makes it harder to find stuff for tyunning like I’m already in a drought every tyunning bias barely gets fics and if ppl do write for them it’s always like ot5 headcanons not to mention trying to navigate the miles of smut to find actual fluff is an impossible task oh my god I’m so sick of it all pls just give me tae fics in peace

[arek-ian]

Knowing that both of Dongsik's parents had dementia when they grew old, mostly due to the amount of grief they had been through, makes me wonder what Dongsik's future will be like.

He will likely end up like his mother when the long-hidden effects of his grief finally surface — the way he keeps staring distantly and blankly, probably imagining his twin sister. He might even ask why she stopped coming home. Juwoon says nothing, which makes Dongsik start to blame himself for not reaching out to her first. Then, Juwoon would take him to visit her on their birthday, maybe. Dongsik then falls silent because, even though he didn't say it, he hates to remember that he forgot she isn't here anymore. But Juwoon knows.

In fact, unintentionally, Dongsik becomes more and more quiet as he grows older. Juwoon realizes their roles have changed. He is the one who keeps talking about unremarkable things or important ones just so the man won't get lost in some other world. He would peel him fruit and wait patiently for him to assure him it’s sweet. And when those cold nights linger, bringing with them some unpleasant silence, they remain cuddled, sharing the same air and letting the silence engulf them thoroughly. Until Dongsik pulls out of his distant thoughts and quietly starts brushing the now-gray hair from Juwoon's forehead, his hand becoming slower bit by bit until he falls asleep.

Juwoon, too, grows old with him. When he sees the first visible wrinkle on his face, his frown deepens — not because he longs to be the young and handsome inspector again, but because he fears he will start to look more like Han Kihwan. However, all of those doubts would fade away with the air once Dongsik traces with his fingers the crow's feet on Juwoon's face or the small faint wrinkles on his hands. The ones that always felt so soft and smooth now feel the same as his own hands. And he then remembers, because Dongsik never forgets this handsome face.

"Juwoon-ah, have you eaten?"

Juwoon remains between his hands, waiting for his smile to reach his eyes as the recognition flickers in them. He is capable of waiting.

"No. We will eat together."

[allonepiece]

bonney shrinking to her real age and form and giving vegapunk a hug while also apologizing for how she's acted. vegapunk giving her kuma's last gift to her, one that's meant to look like the sun and act as a protective charm — the sun, just like the type of deity Nika is, the promise of a future of freedom, joy and laughter; what kuma wanted for his daughter, even if he probably couldn't see it himself.

[electric-plants]

i think cyno and alhaitham would keep their relationship secret for a while solely as an experiment/to challenge themselves to see how long they could last before the rumor mill sussed them out

[diodellet]

cw: unbeta'd rambling once more, all mistakes are mine. vague references to true crime content, nothing graphic. just thinking of what would discomfort the charas, im basically throwing darts 🥴

i hc'd that kalim doesnt really get scared by ghosts and urban legends and to add onto that: i think kalim would be icked out by people with an interest in true crime.

like, the content hits uncomfortably close to his own encounters and some people frankly take a bit too much pleasure in going through all the gory details - wait, you're telling him there are people who fall asleep while listening to true crime podcasts?! on that note, some psychological thrillers (especially the 'adapted from true events' kind, compared to the 'dystopic social commentary' ones) would also fit into this category - just being plain uncomfortable to sit through, a movie/podcast/tv experience making him sick to his stomach.

i just think that kalim doesn't get the appeal at all, no matter the explanation. if someone tried to show him a few cases, he'd just be sitting in uncomfy silence.

(on the flipside, i think jamil hates horror movies with an abundance of jumpscares compared to slashers. he has an uncanny sense foretelling when they're gonna happen, but he still flinches during the actual jumpscare. bonus points if a fakeout is good, u get to see his soul jump out of his body twice.

on the topic of true crime, jamil just doesn't vibe with it, especially when it's not well-researched and/or poorly handled in its delivery. and like, he's already gotten the fearmongering-type of warnings* from the adults in his life plenty of times. he doesn't want to see it packaged in a spooky, edgy, internet detective-way, but he's more rational? understanding? of its appeal to others.)

[bamboozled-distress]

Alfred ready to fuck up nightwings kneecaps so that he can’t leave till hes healed properly is probably one of the only good things that came out from war games 😭 and this is probably the most in character thing that’s come from anyone in the entire event

[fallenwhumpee]

"An Hour."

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Hospital settings, aftermath of captivity, mentioned death.

Medic, despite what their job would suggest, wasn't a caregiver. They were just a mechanic working on circuits, not who carefully kept the whole mechanism running. They could fix people, but it was that. Someone would have to take over the aftermath.

Much to Medic's relief, Leader was a caregiver. A good one, even.

Too good, they lately noticed. Too good that it was starting to make Medic worried. But just like every other day, Medic knocked the infirmary door in exactly same time, before opening it fully. Youngest was asleep in the hospital bed - Medic had said Leader that it was unnecessary, but Leader  brought one anyway - and at last drops of their IV.

"An hour," Leader muttered. At this point it felt like a ritual. So, without a word, Medic moved and changed Youngest's IV to antibiotics as Leader deserted the room silently. Probably to sleep.

Good, Medic thought. Leader needed it.

Medic made their way to the armchair, only to see Leader's office keys on it. For a moment, they considered giving it back. They respected privacy, but they were also curious. For the last one month and a half, all Leader did was looking for Youngest, caring for Youngest or staying in their office. The first two was understandable, but the third...

Now Medic could learn whatever Leader was doing in their office.

Medic hesitated. They shouldn’t invade Leader’s privacy—Leader had done nothing to earn suspicion, at all. And Leader never broke anyone's boundries, so Medic doing it to them was just wrong. But something had been gnawing at the back of Medic’s mind for weeks now, something beyond the usual worry for Youngest. Leader’s behavior, so single-minded, so intense, felt wrong. So wrong for someone almost obsessed with making the future better. And if there was something in that office that could explain it...

Steeling themselves, Medic turned and walked down the hall to Leader’s office. The key slid into the lock with an ease that almost felt too simple. "Where's Leader?" Medic shouted. Leader's room was wide open and Leader wasn't there.

"Went for a quick walk," Right Hand shouted back.

Medic took a deep breath. "Okay," they muttered. With a simple twist, the door creaked open. Medic slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind them slowly. The room was dim, the only light filtering through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the walls. At first glance, it looked like any other office—neat, organized, professional. Just like how Leader liked to keep everything. Medic opened the lights.

Notes. Dozens of them, pinned to a board on the wall, scattered across the desk, and even taped to the edges of the bookshelves, almost creating a wallpaper. Most were in Leader’s precise handwriting, detailing locations, names, dates, and other pieces of information that, together, painted a picture out of a detective's office. Medic’s gaze was drawn to a map on the wall, marked with pins and red string connecting various points. They moved closer, recognizing the locations as places where incidents had occurred—break-ins, disappearances, attacks. All related to Youngest.

Their heart pounded as they picked up a file from the desk. It had a picture, the person's face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking who it was. Medic had seen that face around Whumper—one of the underlings of them. The person had been found dead two weeks ago, the cause still under investigation. There were detailed reports about them, autopsies, locations, biographies... informations that Medic doubted Leader had the authority to kno let alone storing.

They set the file down, their hands trembling slightly. Leader had been gathering evidence, but it wasn’t just about finding Youngest. It was about something more.

Another photo on the desk caught their eye. Medic took it, revealing more photos, more notes underneath. Some were crossed out, others highlighted. A list of names—people connected to the kidnapping—each one with a note beside it: confirmed dead, under surveillance, possible lead.

Some of these people were no longer a threat because they were dead. Was it coincidence, or had Leader...?

The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped Medic out of their thoughts. They hurriedly closed the folder and placed thr picture back on the desk, glancing around to make sure everything was as they’d found it. The door clicked shut just as the office door opened.

Leader stepped inside, looking tired but alert. They froze for a moment, eyes narrowing as they stared in the sight of Medic standing in their office.

“What are you doing here?” Leader’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a warning.

Medic tried to keep their expression neutral, forcing a casual shrug qs if they weren’t digging through the room for the last ten minutes. “You left your keys on the chair. Thought I’d drop them off.”

Leader’s gaze flicked to the keys in Medic’s hand, then back to their face. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Leader crossed the room, taking the keys with a nod.

“Thank you,” they said, their tone polite but distant. “Please wait for my return next time.”

Medic nodded, feeling the tension in the air like a physical weight. They turned to leave, but couldn’t help one last glance at the desk, at the folder now lying innocently on the surface.

Leader didn’t miss the look. “Is there something else?”

“No,” Medic replied quickly, shaking their head. “Just... take care of yourself, okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Leader’s expression relaxed, a smile so soft and tender taking over. “Don't worry. Byt you should get some rest too.”

How could Medic be suspicious of them when all Leader did was worrying and caring for the team? Shoving the guilt down, they forced a smile and left the office.

-•-

Later that day, Medic was in the break room when the news broke. The television mounted on the wall buzzed with static before the anchor’s voice cut in, somber and urgent.

“We interrupt this program with breaking news. Henchman, a key figure in the recent string of criminal activities linked to the late terrorist Whumper, was found dead earlier this evening. Authorities are investigating, but details remain scarce at this time.”

Medic’s blood ran cold. Henchman—another name on Leader’s list. Dead. Just like the others.

They stood frozen, the room spinning around them. The timeline didn’t add up. Leader couldn’t have done it—they had only left the office for ten minutes, not enough time to cross the city and back. But the coincidences were too many, too pointed.

When Medic next saw Leader, they couldn’t help but study their face, searching for anything. But Leader looked even more drained than the last time, still trying to hold it together desperately. When Medic mentioned the news, Leader’s response was calm, almost indifferent.

“Tragic, but not unexpected,” Leader muttered, shrugging slightly. They weren’t even focused— they looked like they could just collapse and take a twenty four hour nap. “Agency was after them. It was only a matter of time.”

Medic nodded slowly, but the uneasy feeling in their gut only grew. There was something, something that was beyond their understanding. But as Leader walked away, Medic knew one thing for certain— Leader was doing something wrong. It was either their sleeping habits or the team had a huge problem.

-•-

Soo, have another random one. This is standalone, but I wrote this with "A Score to Settle" in my mind. Not quite part two, but I began writing with that intention.

[randomwriteronline]

Mata Nui refused to sleep.

He had not given a reason for it, in the distinct way one does not give a reason for something they find immensely discomforting, so none had bothered to pry further, and he had never slept.

This was a useful problem. Useful, because he could still rest through meditation whilst remaining aware of his sorroundings, meaning there was always someone to keep an eye out for the many rogue crawlies that infested Bara Magna at night and any Bone Hunter ambushes, so there was no need to take turns keeping awake and vigilant; a problem, because Kiina now had to be wrestled to sleep lest she abused the down time they had to pester the stranger on space and planets and the such, and Mata Nui was more than glad to speak of anything she might have inquired about at length.

That would have also been a useful problem, as his explanations were told in a low gentle monotone that could have lulled a furious Rock Steed into a chittering pup gently kicking and pawing at the sand in its slumber, if the Gaquri would have managed to stop interjecting with far too loud a volume of voice.

As it was, however, all their conversations did was hinder everybody else's attempt at getting some shut-eye.

When Ackar awoke, the night was perfectly silent.

He wondered briefly why in Plude he'd stirred. A sudden flesh-rendering pain jolting through his right shoulder answered him a little too eagerly for his tastes, and he groaned as he kneaded into it with his fingers.

"Ackar?" a half whisper reached him.

He grunted in acknowledgement.

Mata Nui shifted from where he sat to lean over him: "Is something the matter, my friend?"

The Glatorian pushed himself upright with a bit of difficulty: "Nothing, nothing... Give me a second," he muttered, "I shouldn't sleep with it, but - urgh! Alright, alright, hold my elbow a moment, would you?"

He hissed his thanks through gritted teeth as his limb was caught in a gentle grip. His fingers slipped below his armpit and fumbled angrily with the folds of his skin as his grimace twitched with each spark of pain: at last, with a few clunks and exhausted pops, the arm went limp in Mata Nui's hold as it detached from the rest of Ackar's body, leaving the Glatorian to sigh in relief and move his hand closer to the crook of his own neck.

His friend stared at the body part suddenly in his palms with no shortage of surprise.

"It is a prosthesis," he noted, a little awed: "I did not realize that."

"Yes, well - it's not really your fault for that. It's not that easy to tell, and I never mentioned it," the Glatorian replied as he did his best to massage his aching shoulder blade.

The motion attracted the attention of blue eyes: "Are you hurt?"

"Ah... Nothing to be worried about. I should not sleep with it, is all. It decides to start stinging like Plude if I do that too much."

"You have slept with it all these nights, though."

Ackar gave a lopsided smile: "I know, I know - but when you're out here in the desert, it's always better to have two arms at the ready rather than one."

Mata Nui nodded solemnly, with a grave air about him, as though the Glatorian had bestowed great wisdom upon him instead of basic Bara Magnan common sense, and the veteran warrior could not help chuckling a little at him.

The otherworlder took great care to place the fake limb on the sand so that it would not jam its inner mechanisms before turning once more to his friend: "May I help you?"

"With what?"

"Your shoulder."

"It's just inflamed muscles."

"It doesn't seem as though you can reach the spot bothering you very comfortably on your own. I would be glad to lend a hand."

"Oh? You have experience with this?" the Glatorian teased him lightly, but he did slowly begin unfastening his chest armor with careful movements made surprisingly swift by half a lifetime practicing with only one hand.

"I do not," Mata Nui confessed, completely missing any and all implications: "But I do wish to be of help."

"If it would please you, then, be my guest," Ackar smiled. "Though I will say, at the cost of sounding like a frail maiden - take off your gauntlets at least. I'm pretty sure you'd rip my flesh right off of me if it got pinched in your armor."

"I see. That is an unfortunate request."

"Why so?"

"I am physically incapable of removing my armor."

The other just shrugged casually as he pulled off his undershirt: "I can help you with it."

"You are very kind, but I did not mean that it is impractical to fasten or get out of," the otherworlder clarified. He placed a palm on where his clavicle should have been, lightly curling his phalanxes around the edges of the golden yellow metal covering his upper half: "Taking this off would be akin to skinning me."

Ackar responded to the information with a wide eyed stare.

"Ah," he convened finally: "That'd be quite terrible."

"It would indeed, my friend."

"So - hold it, hold it. You've been naked this whole time?"

"I... Would not... Describe myself as such."

"No, no, I mean--" the Glatorian reworded himself as he scooted over, "This whole time, we've been running around fighting for our lives, fending off vicious beasts and Bone Hunters, and you haven't had a single piece of protective gear on you?"

Mata Nui blinked: "I am shielded," he replied.

"I don't mean Click and the whole - thing, that you make him do that turns him into a shield," Ackar said as he settled down with his back to his friend. "I mean something that keeps your soft insides from getting sliced in half at the first swing of a blade, or from getting skewered by the first Thornax launched into the back of your knee."

"I am shielded." the other insisted.

"By what?"

"My carapace."

His fingertips laid on the Tapyri's back, only to retreat in confusion a moment after. Whatever puzzled him was eventually deemed inconsequential, as he returned to study the shoulder blade beneath his fingers in search of any anomalies beneath the skin that could clue him in on where to strike.

"Your what?" Ackar asked.

"My body is naturally armored," he explained without breaking focus: "Much like insects, certain species of reptiles, or likely the Vorox and Zesk from what I could observe of them, I am covered by an exoskeleton meant to protect my organs and sustain my body. It is unclear whether I possess an additional endoskeleton, like you, but I must confess I am not very keen to find out."

"Huh," his friend noted. After a moment, he added: "Because you'd have to be skinned."

"Yes."

"Very fair."

That was quite the load of information.

By all means, this wasn't necessarily the first time they'd heard of carapaced sentient beings - the Fezeri of the Iron tribe had something of the sort, and if you tried searching through their old settlements enough you were bound to find some molts that had survived the passage of time - but they still had bones in them. Like normal people.

And yes, of course, Mata Nui was abnormal under every aspect if you looked at him for longer than two minutes.

But being a huge humanoid bug?

Now that was unexpected.

More than everything else.

Including coming from space. Because even Kiina had imagined that spacepeople would have had bones in them, or at least been aware of having them.

All of a sudden the Glatorian gave a short snorting laugh.

"You're so confusing," he said whistfully, craning his neck back. "By the looks of it one would guess you're just a slightly irregular fellow, and yet you're some sort of alien who's more like Click than any of the rest of us. You're just full of surprises."

"Oh! I suppose that is true," Mata Nui mused.

He sounded somewhat amused by his resemblance to the beetle. Like he hadn't noticed it himself until now.

His fingers slid on what seemed like a slight bump under the oily skin. That must have been the problem, he thought to himself, and without further ado dug his thumb in the spot: against his carapace he almost felt the individual fibers of muscle flatten under the pressure he exercised upon them, the tight knot they were wrapped in struggling not to yield and unfurl.

He didn't quite get the time to focus on that, however, as he was startled out of the tactile sensation by a deep gurgling sound rattling almost right in his audio receptor.

Ackar, for his part, was trembling so much that the flesh folded around the back of his ribs seemed to be trying its hardest to imitate the vibrating tempo of a dragonfly's wings as it raced its peers across the surface of a lake.

"Oh, I think you found it!" he gingerly said before his friend could wonder whether he'd accidentally hurt him - which in a matter of seconds was no longer a concern seeing as the Glatorian all but leaned further into his thumb: "Go on, go on, those bastards are hard to get rid of--"

Another growl reverberated through the otherwise still air, and Mata Nui realized it was coming from directly under his palms.

Ergo, it was coming from Ackar.

He tried digging harder into the skin: the shoulder wiggled around his finger in a very curious way and the gurgling's volume raised a little more, while the trembling returned to rattle through the Tapyri just as hard as it had before.

Sound and tremors repeated in varying intensity as he continued to knead his fingers against the suffering spot, usually accompanied by the body in question trying to recline directly into the pressure much like certain creatures do when gently scratched in specific areas. He deduced these reactions must have been positive ones, meant to communicate a contented or happy disposition - perhaps specific to the Fire tribe? The trembling in particular, with its very visible reverberations all across the being's frame, seemed to require the presence of an amount of skin which was notably higher than what he could glimpse on Gaquri and Lebori alike... Although Ackar was also significantly older than Gresh, Berix and Kiina, and it would not have been wise to rule out the possibilty of age playing an important part in determining the quantity of soft tissue.

Speaking of the skin, though he was very taken with the large splatter-like marks all across his back, there was also something else that was puzzling if not outright concerning him about it.

"You're sweating quite a lot," Mata Nui noted out loud.

Ackar leaned so far into his hand that he almost dropped down right onto the sand.

"Ah - 'sss not sweat," he drawled through the rumbling in his neck: "Don'- don't frrreak out now, ok- 's mucus."

His friend hummed, unbothered: "That explains the consistency."

"Don' worrrrrry about it - 's norrrmal, yesss? We - us Tapyri, we jusss' make it, see... For the, the tem- RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Sorrrrrry, so'ry... We live near volcanos 'n' open lava pools, so the temp'raturesss would shrrrivel us up..."

"I understand... It keeps you hydrated in otherwise extreme climates."

"Uh-huh... Plus 's easierrr t' wash off the ash like that... Jusss' ssscoop it all off, and the'e, all clean like an oil'd up--" an even more powerful gurgle took over his throat, and he arched his back so much that Mata Nui had to quickly catch him with both hands before he slipped right out of his grip. Now that the Tapyri's face was in view he could note with great interest that his thin teeth were paraded in a wide trembling grin, almost clattering together, and that his eyes were squeezed shut as if he were in great pain - although the effect his expression gave off, even looking at it upside down as the fallen god was, seemed closer to exceptional enjoyment. He watched him mutter a curse under his breath before his voice raised again, slurring in bliss: "A'e you su'e you've nev'r done this beforrre? Y're good!"

"I am afraid I only have theoretical knowledge at my disposal, although in great quantities," his friend replied, a little embarrassed as he laid the other's head down onto his armored legs.

Ackar grinned a little wider as his nape touched down on something pleasantly warm: "Ahhh, booksss, booksss..." he chuckled, wriggling in place, fingers idly pulling the air in uncoordinated motions: "I g'ess they'rrre good f'r sssom'thin', eh?"

His chest jumped with a giddy silent giggle, causing his rumbling to stutter a few times.

Now that he looked at his actual arm better, Mata Nui realized that its back too sported large splatters of different pigmentation. He caught it in his free hand very carefully, turning it over to observe it better while the Glatorian simply allowed him to, maybe not even noticing: their position and shape was not as random as it appeared, but instead seemed to follow an imperfect pattern which mirrored that flanking the man's spine. A quick glance at his prosthesis revealed no such detail on the fake flesh.

Such a curious thing, he mused as he thoughtlessly played with the organic limb - pressing on its palm, lifting it, bending its elbow and wrist to watch the skin crease and muscles tense or relax. He'd seen this sort of appearance on a few creatures along his travels, usually to ward off predators by denoting some sort of poisonous nature... Perhaps the Fire tribe had evolved to secrete a type of venom mixed into their protective layer of mucus in response to threats, or it could have been a strategy of ages past that had managed to survive with each subsequent step they'd taken up their evolutionary ladder for some reason or another.

He'd never had a tongue to test the effects of different poisons personally, and while he might have had one now (though he wasn't sure, since he had not had the time to properly study or think about this body's anatomy much) he was a little uncertain on whether his friend would have appreciated having his fingers shoved in Mata Nui's mouth for the sake of scientific research.

He had come across a few sapient species that considered that a formal greeting, but he would rather not take his chances.

Maybe he could have asked later.

He felt Ackar's shoulders shift and squirm in his lap to get more comfortable, and he returned his attention to him just in time for the Tapyri to open his eyes and meet his gaze in turn.

For a small period of time they simply looked at one another. The otherworlder continued idly moving the other's limb, exercising a gentle pressure upon his palm as he shifted the arm up and down without any rhyme or reason; Ackar himself just let him do as he pleased, only blinking back at him, face stuck in a neutral expression, not making a singular attempt at stopping him.

"Oh," he spoke at last with a nervous laugh: "Well. Hello."

What a strange thing to say. Mata Nui tilted his head slightly: "Hello," he replied in tone.

"I've made myself comfortable, haven't I?"

"If you are referring to your position, I took the liberty to recline you myself in order to keep you from getting injured."

It was unclear if the information reassured the Glatorian or not, as his reaction was to widen his pupils slightly, considerably darken the skin of his nose, and only peep: "Ah."

"You were leaning rather far back. You could have fallen."

"Ah," he repeated. "Thank you, friend."

"It was my pleasure."

Ackar's nose turned a little darker again.

Mata Nui touched it thoughtlessly: its temperature had increased, he mused to himself, so perhaps blood was rushing to that specific spot for one reason or other.

"You might be building a fever," he warned.

"I do not believe I am," the Tapyri replied a little stilted, again with an embarrassed chuckle, "But thanks for worrying."

Concerns soothed, the fallen god dug a digit back in the pained spot and earned another gurgle for his good deed, which reverberated this time across the plates of his legs. He was surprised to find it caused a weird, pleasant sensation akin to a feeling he unfortunately was not sure he had a name for yet.

He returned his attention to his friend: "How is your shoulder feeling?"

Ackar had shut his eyes again, and squirmed in a sort of pleased manner: "Betterrr," he replied, growls now coming from his throat in shorter bursts. He cracked open an eyelid to look at his own arm being maneuvered by Mata Nui's hand as though it were the limb of some sort of machine, losing himself in the feeling of the armored palm and the limp movement of his own joints: "Havin' fun?"

The other followed his gaze, and instantly turned bashful: "Oh - I apologize. I was lost in thought," he whispered sheepishly, placing the limb down on the Glatorian's chest.

His friend cackled: "It's quite fine, it didn't hurt."

Another gargle rumbled through him as the last kink in his muscle was smoothed down.

Mata Nui continued massaging the spot either way, and Ackar continued quietly responding to his kindness with soft purrs; and for a short while, as the desert breathed its tired chill and the winds didn't blow any sand into their eyes or noses or mouths, they simply remained quiet.

Fingertips ran across his arm softly, slowly.

If he concentrated enough he could hear how the barely perceptible sound them scraping the mucus off of one another.

It was terribly comfortable.

Terribly soothing...

A soft monotone stirred him from the torpor he was falling into: "In truth, I was quite taken with your skin's markings."

Without opening his eyes, Ackar turned his head: "Hm?"

"These," his friend explained. He felt him trace an unclear shape on his forearm a few times, gently: "You present an irregular pattern of noticeably different pigmentation both here and on your back. The closest condition I could try to compare it to would be vitiligo, but it does not appear to be anything like it."

The Glatorian hummed softly: "Oh, we just have them... They're common, to us Tapyri. Splatters, spots, dots... Various colors, too..."

"How curious," the otherworlder murmured. He moved from one spot to the other seamlessly, following their borders. "Poisonous creatures often advertise their toxicity to potential predators through similar visual cues."

"Is that so..."

"Perhaps you too have some."

Ackar chuckled as he humored him: "Perhaps I do, who knows!"

"Like a salamander."

"And what is that?"

"It is a term that indicates a family of small amphibians of which many species contain a potent poison within their mucus-covered skin. Their appearance is quite similar to that of lizards, so they are often mistaken for reptiles despite their lack of scales. Land-dwelling turtles often incur into a similar yet opposite misconception, being believed to be amphibians when they are not."

"Hm. And their poison, what does it do?"

"It is deadly in exceptionally small doses and can affect the victim by means of contact with bruised skin, ingestion, inhalation, and injection."

"Oh, I'd like that."

"You would?"

"Yeah, why not? First sand bat to swallow me whole gets a nice surprise, and I take that bastard down with me."

He laughed softly, reclining his head further into Mata Nui's lap.

His yellowish eyes looked up again curved into half moons, meeting the fallen god's own with a lopsided grin: "That'd be a nice little consolation at least, wouldn't you think?"

His friend's glowing irises looked back down at him with a sort of vacuous glimmer.

They were a very nice blue.

The otherworlder's hands were heavily segmented, each articulation encased in a golden shell fitting perfectly against the others. It was really curious how he'd never noticed that until he had his cheeks cradled into one of those palms, weirdly coarse and warm like sand.

Mata Nui looked directly into his eyes: "You are so deeply interesting," he said with such earnest awe.

He sounded so starstruck - he was so starstruck, staring at the Glatorian utterly entranced as though he was marveling at the sight of in the most incredible discovery of this age.

"If the circumstances of our meeting had been different, less wrecked with quests and worries," the fallen god continued, speaking awfully softly as he returned his mellow grip to the Tapyri's hand and began shifting his arm around aimlessly again, to feel the shift of muscle and skin and mucus, "I would have loved to simply watch you live for weeks on end. To take note of your speech patterns, your specific anatomy, how your body moves, how it reacts to stimuli..."

"That," Ackar murmured, breathless: "Is a bit forward - isn't it?"

His friend leaned his head to the side ever so slightly, not blinking.

"At least you should first..."

He choked on his own breath very briefly; he shut his eyes with a little bewildered wheeze and smacked his palm on his face.

Great Beings.

That could have been incredibly awkward.

Mata Nui, who was still holding onto his hand waiting for an elaboration with a fair share of interest on the matter, decided the necessary amount of time for an explanation's request to be polite had passed and curteously encouraged him: "Do continue. I would like to know the proper steps to follow."

But the Glatorian shook his head with a breathy cackle: "Don't- it's nothing, don't think about it. I'm very tired and talking stupid."

"I apologize. I should let you rest, then."

"Oh, no, if you - if you want to talk about something, it's fine."

A surge of warmth radiated from the carapaced fingers wrapped around his hand: "It would not bother you?"

"No, no... You've got a soothing voice really, so it wouldn't... I don't know how long I can listen to you consciously, but if you'd just keep telling me about... Oh, I don't know..."

"Would you like me to continue with the salamanders?"

Oh, he knew that little wiggle that had just shaken his friend's legs. It was the same as Kiina's flapping knees while sitting crosslegged, Gresh's one-handed claps and the weird little laugh Berix sputtered when he saw something he liked way too much.

Mata Nui really wanted to tell him more about those beasties.

Maybe he was excited about the similarities he'd found between them and the Tapyri. Or maybe he just liked talking - he'd always seemed awfully happy rambling to Kiina.

Either way, the little terrors had already gotten in his good graces with their poison, so why not learn more about them?

"I reckon I would," he smiled.

His arm was lifted again, and he could now see the excitement in his friend's eyes: "It would be my pleasure," he assured him. He leaned a little further down, closer to his face: "What would you like for me to start with?"

The Glatorian twisted his mouth for a moment: "To start, to start... The legs, let's go with those. How many do they have?

"They tend to have four limbs, two front and two hind, although certain species completely lack the latter," Mata Nui began without missing a beat: "The number of toes is also variable, but never exceeds four on the front and five on the rear. A rather incredible ability the entire salamander genus can vaunt is that of fully regenerating entire limbs without any trace of scarring."

Ackar hummed, amused, and moved his lone shoulder blade as though its arm was still attached: "That's a real good one, I'll say... Don't quite get the lack of back legs, though."

"Specimens that showcase such a peculiar characteristic tend to be fully aquatic throughout their entire lifetime, so perhaps an additional pair of limbs were considered more superflous to them than they were to other species that maintain an amphibious existence or even turn completely terrestrial upon reaching adulthood - though still favoring damp, cool habitats due to their permeable skin, preferrably near water." the otherworlder explained. Then, as though remembering it suddenly, he added in a slightly humored tone: "Sapient inhabitants of the planet on which I observed these creatures most often associate them to fire, particularly to the ability to resist it unharmed or putting it out entirely. A misconception created by the salamanders' habit of making their nests in rotting logs, from which they would flee when they were placed in the fire, also led to the belief that they were born from flames."

Something else they had in common with Tapyri...

One of their oldest tales, a myth to tell children - they were the spawn of embers, born from ashes still warm of extinguished bonfires, from the glowing rivers trickling down the sides of volcanoes...

Ackar squeezed his eyes hard and forced himself concious. A small sigh escaped him: he was already fighting a losing battle with his eyelids to keep them open, lulled into a thoughtless state by Mata Nui's excited monotone gently and eagerly pouring as much information as he could into his head.

His throat rumbled weakly, its grumbles vibrating against the equally pleased lap wiggling beneath his head - oh, if he could stay awake a little more, just a little more...

"Their diet tends to vary based on their environment and size, but they are known to eat anything the deem large enough," Mata Nui kept going softly, stroking the Glatorian's hand with his thumb: "Among their most common preys are insects such as flies, beetles, cicadellidae, moths, caeliferae and aquatic bugs, arachnids such as mites and spiders, earthworms, hexapods, and various larvae, while larger species may also hunt crabs, small mammals, fish, and other amphibians; in case of particularly scarce resources they might also resort to cannibalizing other salamanders, something that often happens between young specimens. Their jaws have each a row of small teeth capable of bending inward to keep the prey from escaping, sometimes helped by patches of teeth found on their palatine bones and vomer as well to better hold it down - aquatic specimens rely on them to macerate and tear the prey, as their tongues lack muscles and cannot be flicked out to catch food in the way their terrestrial counterparts' can. This is made possible by their ability to secrete a sticky mucus from glands positioned on the roof of their mouth and the tip of the tongue itself..."

And he continued talking for a good couple of hours, droning in the night with his quiet excitement without worrying too much about Ackar's silent snoring adding itself to the sound of Kiina, Gresh and Berix, simply happy to listen to them breathe and live around him and talk, talk, talk about all the marvelous things he'd loved alone until now.

[jackass-jones]

I’m not deep enough in the yttd fandom to really know if this is a controversial take to have but. I think soushin is interesting. I don’t think this in a “omg wow they’re soooo in love and I want them to be together” way, not at all lol. But I think to act like it’s impossible to see a romantic/sexual aspect of their relationship is really fucking stupid. I try to refrain from acting like there’s a solid truth to their relationship cuz the game isn’t finished yet so there’s always the likelihood that we’ll get more information later, but the thing that always gets me is when ai shin mentions that hiyori claimed to be an older student at his school but he later learned that wasn’t true. It sounds so eerily like a grooming story and the way we see human shin retreating into himself In reaction to that hits really hard, like he’s embarrassed it ever happened

Then there’s stuff like the detail that hiyori would always take pictures of shin without consent and would hang them up, or the fact that hiyori kept a personal shin ai for himself that he had control over, or the way that maple is supposed to parallel shin. It all just sounds like they had a relationship that blurred the lines a lot in a way that was very uncomfortable for shin. Moments like the shin ai sobbing and Hiyori saying “no don’t be like that show me your cool side shin!” and shin reacting to that, it’s like hiyori is trying to praise shin while hurting him. Seems way too much like a common occurrence

I think also (but maybe im just projecting) that shin is pretty queer coded in a lot of ways (hot springs scene, soft-natured personality that he tries to smother, his relationship with hiyori paralleling a romantic one, etc) and I think this plays into his relationship with hiyori a lot. Because of gender roles and toxic masculinity bullshit, i really doubt shins soft personality was allowed to fly under the radar for most people, so he was isolated a lot. Hiyori probably made him feel special at first with the way he seemed to like this about shin, but it becomes pretty clear that hiyori loves to fawn over shin and treat him like a cute baby and really only loves shins personality cuz he sees it as easy to take advantage of. I think it’s really easy to imagine a scenario where shin is a closeted teenager who finally has someone he feels he can confide in and hiyori blurs the lines between romantic and platonic a lot and shin latches onto this because he wants to feel like he can be loved by another boy and thinks this is his only shot. It’s way too common and all the pieces just fit right into place, you know? And I’m aware of the line where shin says hiyori is like an older brother to him but imo I think these two things can actually perfectly coexist cuz again, theres blurring of lines going on cuz this is an abusive relationship and feelings are being toyed with constantly

Basically all this to say, I very much think it’s likely that there was a romantic and sexual aspect to this relationship going on. I wouldn’t say they were labeling themselves as boyfriends or anything, more like it was a vague mess that hiyori refused to elaborate on. I don’t ship these two cuz I think it’s pretty clear shin wants out of this relationship, but I think inherently being mad someone wants to explore the idea of them having this kinda relationship is really ignorant and is only gonna result in only shallow ass takes about abusive relationships being allowed

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

post apocalypse au where the plot of stranger things doesn't happen but vecna still tears the world open and brings the upside down right side up. and the scattered people who managed to survive the initial earthquakes and power outages and complete breakdown of society have to contend not only with creatures from the upside down trying to eat them, but also with what the bleeding of an alternate dimension into their reality is doing to their bodies

people with prolonged exposure to larger tears seem to be slowly changed into something else, like some radioactivity from the dimension is mutating them. people grow claws, or leathery wings, or their face peels open, or they turn into unrecognisable piles of eldritch goo. there's vampires, were-demogorgons, flayed, weird ghosts, and the number of super powered people like el was in the show skyrockets

other people who manage avoid this fate shun those that fell to it. and to an extent it's reasonable, some people who get changed in this way completely lose their humanity, like the flayed, and while others retain it it probably doesn't seem that way when a vampire-like person needs human blood to survive. but a lot of people are just as terrified of the changes happening to them as other people are, and while they may not be harmless, they'd much rather use their new biological advantages to keep people safe

despite this, people that have been 'corroded' by the upside down are ostracised, feared, sometimes outright hunted by regular humans. so sometimes, they band together. form their own little apocalypse groups

eddie is in one of those groups. he wouldn't say he's the leader, bc they don't really have a hierarchical structure and eddie likes to think he's managed to maintain his anarchic ideals even in the face of the apocalypse. but he is the oldest, and the most scary looking (if not the most actually dangerous), so the combination of everyone being younger and his ability to scare off corroded-hunters that come looking for them means everyone else kind of follows his lead

so no one really questions when he comes back to camp one day holding two passed out humans. a mole-dotted man and a freckled woman, probably about eddie's age, who were injured and had crawled into a ruin building to die. and like. what was eddie supposed to do, leave them there??? no, gareth, it has nothing to do with how pretty the guy is. no, eddie doesn't know how they'll react when they wake up in the middle of a corroded camp, they'll cross that bridge when they get there. el says she senses that they're good people, so clearly everything will be fine actually!!!!!

[variousqueerthings]

the thing is I do quite like individual stephen moffat episodes, I think they're good episodes. they get less good when you start to see patterns of writing and how he has a tendency of beating a dead horse + ongoing sexism which may be missed in one episode, but becomes very clear through repetition, but if one considers them as one-offs they're Neat bits of writing. it's when he tries to make it longform that it all falls to pieces for me and reverberates back. his lore is a mess and consequently so are his characters if one spends more than an episode or two with them.

[themeraldee]

My coworkers using Homelander GIFs as reactions gives me whiplash. Like it's one thing that it's obviously a popular show that my friends sometimes mention but it's a whole other thing to see it in a thread about work related stuff 😭